#bring back eyewitness

[cesium-sheep]

at least my meltdown playlist still works.

[justwinginglife]

The Best Of My Life

You accidentally just had the best sleep of your entire life. And so did Hoshina. 

You honestly hadn’t even heard him enter the library.

Everyone on base had been doing their best to uncover No. 9’s schemes, you and the Vice Captain especially, and that meant late nights poring over news articles, historical reports, eyewitness testimony, scientific studies, all to figure out what 9 was capable of.

All you figured out was what you were capable of, and it was not this. If you had to spend one more night reacquainting yourself with these same four walls, you’d asphyxiate from the claustrophobia. You swore every time you entered this room, it got smaller and smaller. Eventually, the exhaustion enveloped your body, and you were encumbered by the sheer weight of this sudden enervation. Unable to will your limbs into submission, to command them to make the long journey back to your room, you passed out in the library. 

When the smell of cologne and coffee finally stirred you from your slumber, you were shocked to find the Vice Captain resting on your shoulder. And it seemed, from the position you were in, you’d slept on his head. You’d never even said more than “Goodmorning” and “Goodnight” to him before, and now, you were using him as your own personal pillow. The sudden, unexpected intimacy made you want to bolt. But he was sleeping so soundly, you couldn't help but find it so precious how much comfort and ease something as simple as your shoulder could bring him. He was sleeping as though you weren’t in wartime. As though you weren’t practically strangers to each other, your only bond forged through spilled blood on a battlefield. 

Right now, you felt the way one did when they suddenly found the space in their lap occupied by a cat or a dog- you just couldn’t move. It wasn’t right. Never mind that you might have to pee, you made a vow to yourself right then and there that you wouldn’t leave this spot, not until the Vice Captain had woken up of his own accord. You wouldn’t ruin the only moment of peace he might have for a while. 

So you stayed put, you stayed still, so still one would think you were dead. Your muscles started to ache from maintaining the same position for so long and, even worse than that, you were incredibly bored. But it was worth it. You found his breathing a soothing sound, you found his scent was quickly becoming more addicting. You found out he occasionally talked in his sleep, and that revelation also brought with it the discovery that you loved to hear him talk. Especially when his voice was dipped in drowsiness. You’d never heard him talk to you this much, ever. You thought to yourself, if you made it out of this alive, if it wasn’t automatically social suicide once he woke up and discovered the shame that had transpired, you would make a point to talk to him more. You would be his friend.

You absolutely would NOT be his friend. This became very clear to you when he suddenly shifted and snuggled closer to you, his hand brushing up against your thigh as he sighed in his sleep. As his breath caressed your skin, you hoped and prayed that he’d remain unconscious long enough for you to get your emotions under control, or at least just your face under control. You were unsure how you were going to explain away the shade of crimson seeping into your cheeks.

But it seemed you had no luck to spare today because he began to stir from his sleep. You cursed the gods. 

As he blinked the library back into his view, rubbing his eyes languidly, you thought to yourself that even the way he woke up was cute. And when he finally pulled away from you, stretching and yawning, you pondered how his absence from your shoulder felt even heavier than his head. You wondered if you could coax him back to sleep, convince him he was still laden with exhaustion. You’d never taken up much more than a minute of his time in the past, and now your ambition was suddenly desiring every second of his time. You wondered if holding your breath would freeze time, if closing your eyes again, relaxing against him, would compel him to stay here, to stay yours. Just for a moment. You could go back to being strangers in the morning. 

And then he spoke. “Was it just me… or was that the best nap ever?” 

You immediately took back your thoughts. After tonight, you’d never be satisfied just being strangers ever again. “Not just you. I feel amazing.”

He took a moment to properly examine you. It was though he was trying to figure out what exactly it was about you that made him so completely at ease. It was slightly unnerving the way his eyes roamed over you but you didn't dare look away, in case you blinked and he disappeared into some dream. He finally spoke, "You know, it's funny, I feel completely rested and ready to take on the day even though we only napped,” He checked his watch, “For about two to three hours.” 

You blinked. Had it only been that long? It felt like an eternity. You’d known nothing about him before tonight, and now you felt like you were privy to his most intimate self. 

He paused, appearing to take his next words into heavy consideration before proposing them. “Imagine…” His voice dropped to a low, hushed tone, “Imagine how good we’d sleep for a whole night.”

You swallowed, cheeks returning to their earlier rosy color. Was he proposing what he thought you were?

“Just think about it. Everyone’s been on high alert lately. Stress is high. Tension is high. Shit could hit the fan at any moment. We’re never promised a moment’s rest, let alone peaceful rest. And I’ve never slept so well in my entire life than I did when I was sleeping with you.”

You tilted your head as you processed this information, trying your best to avoid feeling honored for such high praise when you knew he was simply stating data rather than complimenting the way in which your presence set him at ease. It was an interesting suggestion, and if you were honest with yourself, you were intrigued by it. 

“So, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you want us to sleep together?”

He nodded, a cheeky grin curving across his face. “I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. It’ll be purely platonic. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be platonic, just business.”

You wanted to tell him that even if it wasn’t platonic, you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. And you certainly didn’t want to be just business. But, like an idiot, you held your hand out to him to shake on it like you were closing a contract rather than exploring a new level of intimacy together. Intimacy that no one else was allowed but you. You thanked the gods. 

He smirked and shook your hand. “Sounds like a deal to me. Shall we get started then? Because we’ve got a couple more hours until sun-up and I could use an extra boost.” He hoisted you to your feet and led the way to his bedroom, his hand still grasping yours as he navigated the halls. You wondered if he’d meant to continue holding your hand but you weren’t about to bring attention to it, the absence of his head from your shoulder was more than enough, you didn’t need to deprive yourself of his hand as well. 

As you neared your destination, you suddenly became all too aware of the tingling sensation that was slowly spreading through your body. Electricity soared through your veins as the anticipation consumed you. You imagined nestling into his bed. Inhaling the scent of detergent on his sheets. Feeling the divots in the mattress where he frequently positioned himself. You had unlocked the gateway to a whole new world, and yet still, it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted his universe. You wanted to know what he ate for breakfast, what kind of toothpaste he used, if he slept in just his underwear (you hoped he did), if he preferred boxers or briefs, if he was a morning person or a night owl, if he had any guilty pleasures, if he had a sweet tooth, you wanted to know every little thing about him. Every insignificant detail had suddenly been made significant in your eyes. 

He opened the door to his room and you entered his world. For such a rambunctious man, his room was surprisingly clean and orderly. He had shelves neatly lined with all manner of books, it seemed he wasn’t picky on the genre. He had swords on display, and you thought that was very like him. It probably served as both decor and legitimate weaponry, knowing him. His space was cozy, felt lived in, felt comfortable, but was also organized to the point that everything in view seemed to serve some sort of use, like he wouldn’t dare clutter his room with unnecessary baggage. He was an officer, his life wasn’t guaranteed, he had no time to waste on hoarding trinkets. 

It made you want to spoil him rotten. Made you want to fill up his drawers, his shelves, any empty space within sight, with gifts, with evidence of your interest in him. It honestly shocked you how quickly your interest in him had grown, from the moment it blossomed in the library to the moment you’d crossed the threshold into his room, into his life. You’d never go back, not now that you had a taste of him. 

Even the few moments he'd taken to slip into the bathroom and get changed into comfier clothes was enough to get you aching for his presence. But your sulking quickly subsided when he reemerged to toss you one of his shirts and a pair of his shorts to sleep in. He was a gentleman, he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, especially when he was the one who had concocted this crazy idea of sleeping together. 

You quickly put his clothes on, not realizing you had been so eager to try them on that you forgot to make the trip to the bathroom and had changed in front of him. Once he realized what you were doing, he turned around to give you some privacy, but not before you saw the look on his face. It started out shocked, had a brief moment of bashfulness, before finally slipping into amusement. He chuckled and shook his head as he waited for you to finish.

“Some business partner you are, stripping in front of me so soon.” He teased.

You flushed but you retorted back, “And weren’t you the one just enjoying the show a minute ago?”

He shrugged and crawled under the covers, leaving you without a verbal response, but the smirk on his face answered plenty. 

You knew this was the part where you joined him in the bed but you hesitated.

He gestured for you to come over, so you did. 

But you positioned yourself as far away from him as you could. You weren’t sure where all your nerve from earlier went. You’d wanted to be closer to him, but now were somehow afraid to touch him. As if touching him might cement whatever feelings you were starting to have for him. As if you might not ever get up from his bed again, you might not want to. 

He laughed. “You can strip for me, but you can’t cuddle me? I seem to recall the deal was us sleeping together and I don’t think you huddling on the edge of the bed counts.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you as close as he physically could before snuggling against you. “God, you’re so comfy.”

You froze in his embrace. What now? What the fuck were you supposed to do now? This was the part where you went to sleep but every part of you was wide awake. Every part of you was enjoying the feeling of every part of him pressed up against you. You wondered how much you were allowed to savor this. Should you be feeling guilty for just how good this felt?

Fuck it.

You sank into his arms, allowing yourself to melt into his touch.

He sighed as you relaxed against him. “Good girl. Let’s have the best night of our lives, yeah?” 

And then he conked out.

You rolled your eyes. How the fuck were you supposed to go to bed when he said shit like that to you?

But eventually, after adjusting to his warmth, after getting drunk on his scent, you drifted off into a blissful slumber right along with him.

And he was right. It was the best night of your life.

And again and again, you continued to have the best night of your life every single night that you slept with him. On the days that you weren’t able to sneak into his room, on the days when even a small nap was out of reach, it was painfully obvious to you both how miserable you felt without the other nearby. And that craving, that desperate need for the other, it eventually made itself known in the daytime too. Soshiro -he’d made you start calling him by his first name because it didn’t feel right for someone who he’d seen in her underwear and who’d seen him in his underwear (turns out he did usually sleep in just his underwear, and you’d learned that once he’d gotten more comfortable with you) to be calling him by his last name- was startled to find that even on his most well-rested days, he still sought out your presence. At first, he thought maybe he wasn’t as rested as he’d assumed, maybe his body craved another nap, but eventually he realized he just craved your voice, need your laugh to get him through the day. And you needed him just as badly. 

You loved the way he’d read you passages from his favorite books as you snuggled in his arms and soaked in the sound of his voice. You loved the way he hoisted you up on his back and carried your dead weight back to his room when training had properly kicked your ass. You loved the way he had learned how to braid hair, just because he liked fidgeting with your hair and wanted to make himself useful while he was fidgeting. You loved every moment you stole from him in passing, every secret he whispered, claiming it was for your ears only, every act of intimacy shared between you. You loved it all. You loved him.

He loved you too. It was evident in the way that he ironed your clothes for you because he knew you hated wrinkles, even going so far as to wake up early to do it if he knew you had a meeting first thing in the morning (and he made a point of knowing your schedule everyday.) It was evident in the way that he'd started suggesting romance movies as a way to wind down at the end of a long day, because he knew they were your favorite but he also knew you were too ashamed to keep begging him to watch them with you. It was evident in the way that he made you tea every morning because he knew you weren’t a big fan of coffee. He’d even switched to drinking tea himself, though he was an avid coffee drinker before he met you, because he didn’t think you’d kiss him if he tasted like coffee. But you’d kiss him even if he tasted like sour milk. You’d do anything to kiss him and just keep kissing him.

The first time you kissed him was completely by accident. He’d been nudging your nose with his, trying to ease you into waking up. You’d jolted forward and woke to find your lips mashed into his. When he recovered from the shock, and you’d started to pull away, clearly embarrassed, he did the only thing he could think of to ease your embarrassment. He pulled you in for another kiss. And another. Until you couldn’t stop kissing each other, until you couldn’t keep your hands off one another. 

Every night with him was the best night of your life, this you knew, but every day with him quickly became the best day of your life as well. He became the best thing you’d ever had, the best thing you’d ever have. The best love you could ever or would ever know.

And it all started because of a nap.

[ericsprincess]

until you overflow

nc-17, Na Jaemin/Reader, historical au, queen!yn, war prize!jaemin, mildly dubious consent, cunnilingus, penetration, breeding kink

~~~

You need an heir. 

~~~

“I already SAID, I am NOT going to do this now,” you spoke through your gritted teeth, holding yourself back the best way you could to not smash your fist on the table out of anger. The atmosphere in the room was tense, and yet the scene was all too familiar for everyone. 

"B-but you need an heiress! Your highness, the war is over so now we should focus on important internal affairs, one of which is ensuring the succession!" scuttered one of the ministers, a capable, but also an extremely annoying woman with a particular penchant for bureaucracy. One of those people who never knows when to stop, whether they mean well or not. 

“The war is over and we should focus on repairing what it ruined first, don’t you think?” you replied sarcastically, but the minister as if she were deaf to your tone. 

“But..what if something happens to you? We need to have the security of an heiress! The people need it, it will boost the morale of the entire nation too!”

And this was already going on for 20 minutes. For the third time just this week. 

Thankfully, this useless exchange was interrupted when one of your highest advisors, an ancient noble lady, an advisor of your mother before she was yours, stepped out, essentially ending the bickering. 

“Your highness, there is still the..new war prize. You surely know which one I mean,” the advisor bowed deep in front of you. “He seems very strong. He could give our queendom many heiresses. It would silence many mouths, not only about the ones talking about you, but also those that are raising concerns about his future and purpose. Please consider that.” she spoke and retreated back amongst the others.  

Of course you knew which one she meant. Ever since the moment he was brought by your army, and as a part of war prize paraded around the capital to be finally thrown to kneel at your feet, he’s been the talk of the entire country. There were many captives brought in that day, but this one, as if he had put the spell on our entire country. All the men and women alike were marveling at his beauty, mouths hanging open with fingers pointing at that one, do you see that one? as the procession of soldiers and captives and carriages full of gold was passing through the capital city towards the Queen’s Palace. People soon started spreading eyewitness accounts and half-truths as well, even sharing made-up stories how he was so strong and raging that he almost fought off an entire squad of your soldiers before he was captured, how they had to bring him bound in thick iron chains and muzzled, a beautiful, but rabid beast. 

Most of that was not true. As far as the generals’ report that was handed to you said, he was ambushed while he was quietly traveling on his horse alone on a forest path, and went willingly, with a smile. He just let himself get captured, even shooting a joke or two, greeting his captors goodnaturedly like old friends. However, under his plain clothes, your soldiers found out he was armed up to the teeth.

They tried to interrogate him, but even after hours, no one was able to figure out where he came from and where he was going. He spoke with an accent not native to the conquered kingdom, so he clearly wasn’t a local citizen, but refused to prove his ties to another country to avoid being taken as a war captive. Nothing about his clothes or things he had on him specified anything. He provided his name when asked, but it was a simple, plain name, very common in any country around, so no one even believed it’s real. 

So they just followed the orders and just like any other captive, they brought him to the palace to have his fate decided there, and most court people half-expected you would have him publicly executed, as a statement and also just to simply get rid of the potential threat. They threw him at your feet, and he didn’t beg for his life as everyone expected he would. He raised his head from where he was kneeling, dirty with hands tied behind his back, but said nothing and only smiled at you, before dropping his head back down. The crowd gasped at the audacity of him daring to even lay his eyes on their Queen and immediately started whispering, everyone expecting you would immediately order your guards to have his head cut off, bloodthirsty atmosphere rising in the hall.

But you didn’t want to. You have learnt years ago, by necessity, to have no qualms or hesitation about ending an unworthy life, but something drawn you to him. You couldn’t tell what, but you didn’t want to kill him, at least not before he would give you an actual reason. You didn’t want to waste his life, just for the fleeting enjoyment of the masses. You wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to yourself at that time, but you were also intrigued.

You couldn’t decide and you ended up stalling, staring at the back of his head that was hung between his shoulders, with his forehead almost touching the cold marble of the throne room as he was slumped on his knees. The throne room was completely silent, everyone waited with bated breaths for the verdict.

Then a sharp pain in your rib woke you up from your stupor. You startled and looked at the source - your closest court lady, who was until now only standing at her usual place by your right hand, entirely bored, has just elbowed you to bring you back to earth. 

She leaned over to you, covering her mouth as she whispered to your ear. 

“Keep this one. We will put him to good use.” 

You rolled your eyes at her as she drew back, and she just shrugged. What? Sue me, she mouthed back at you before she resumed her bored expression. 

You sighed and irritatedly waved your hand to the right, signaling the guards to take him to the dungeons instead of beheading him right on the spot. The crowd groaned a little, annoyed that they couldn’t witness an almost poetic death of an exquisite beauty, but no one dared to raise a protest. They all knew better than that.

~~~

This is all entirely her fault, you were rubbing your temples two days later to stave off the headache, thinking about what to do about him, cursing your best friend and her one track mind. 

But she did have a solid point, and you are a benevolent and generous queen so you decided to put him where he would be appreciated the best and guarded the most - a royal harem, private only for you and your court ladies to use at your leisure. 

Despite his dubious and potentially dangerous origins, you weren’t afraid for the safety of your court ladies. None of them were here just for decoration - all highly trained professional guards and assassins, the loyal extensions of your power, you weren’t afraid of them getting hurt or letting him escape. Vice-versa too - if anyone decided to become some kind of a vigilante justice and lay a hand on the mysterious dangerous man who could be seen as a threat to the queendom, he would be well-protected. 

It really seemed to be the best solution.

A solution that would make everyone happy - you would have one less problem, the man would be out of prying and gossiping public eyes hidden well within the palace walls, the court ladies would get a new shiny toy and him…Well, no one cares about what he thinks or wants. 

But even this turned out to not be an issue, because as it was reported to you a month later, the new harem addition was settling into his new role well. Maybe even too well, as you have found out from the gossips and giggles between the court ladies. Apparently, not only he didn’t have any reservations about the kind of services that were expected from him, but also he provided them very willingly and enthusiastically. Seemingly impossible to tire out, he was always happy to let himself be used by any woman, even multiple at once! as you heard the whispers.  

The never ending rumors about his skills with his fingers or tongue were constantly making you blush every time you overheard. But not only that, part of why he was so popular was also how comfortable and desired he made the ladies feel. He seemed to always figure out very quickly how each woman wanted to be touched or talked to, or whichever kink she might have. He was also not shy about his own body or sexuality, but his own needs always took a back seat. He seemed to be born for this role, made to please the others. 

The only thing he was not approved nor allowed to do was penetration. He was not deemed fit or deserving to sire a child for your queendom yet, that was an honor and a privilege reserved for only few distinguished harem members that have been in service for a long time. But the potential was there and everyone acknowledged it. 

The beautiful, charming Probably Na Jaemin has quickly become the darling of the harem. Friendly with everyone, staff, servants, even other harem members liked talking to him and had nothing to say about him but high praise. 

No suspicious behavior was reported, no escape attempts, no strange questions, no forbidden items found hidden between his possessions. Na Jaemin seemed to be fully satisfied and content with his living situations and when the servants asked if there were anything he could be missing, he only asked whether there would be a teeeny tiiiny possibility of getting a cat, maybe? If it wouldn’t cause too many problems, of course?

This bastard is just having a vacation on my account, you fumed as you were stamping your Queen’s Approval seal on the request to purchase a ragdoll for the palace. 

Despite the continuous nagging and encouragement from your court ladies, especially your best friend, you haven’t seen him yourself yet. Actually, you haven’t seen anyone from the harem recently, because you were avoiding the entire palace wing by a mile. You wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but you didn’t even want to run into him in the corridors. 

And now you’re expected to consider him as a possible father of your daughters. And you didn’t even have any good reason to reject this idea outright. 

~~~

You have been tossing and turning in your bed for hours already and sleep was yet to come. The full moon has been shining into your chambers so strongly you could see everything even with the lights of. That must be the reason why you can’t sleep, you fumed as you were annoyingly shutting the curtains. 

And then you were lying down staring at the ceiling in complete darkness for one more hour. 

Okay. I give up. You said to yourself and climbed off the bed, picking up a robe, some slippers and a candlestick holder for some light to take with you. 

You left your room quietly and let your feet lead you while trying to not think about where you are going. You passed a few guards on your way, replying only with a curt nod to their deep bows. At the very least you could see for yourself that they are doing their job properly. 

You finally ended up in front of the door that was the target destination of your night trip. You put your hand on the handle and were just about to open it, when the door flew open and a young giggly lady ran out straight into your arms, startling you both. 

You did your best to not drop your light or burn either of you, while she quickly (and with complete horror) realized who did she run into, composed herself and started apologizing, bowing deeply and begging you for forgiveness. You just dismissed her with a wave of your hand and she didn’t need to be told twice - she bowed once more for good measure and disappeared into the corridor. 

Once the commotion calmed down you were free to look into the room. It was a normal harem room, nice and spacious, beautifully decorated with imported furniture and full of lights and candles, with a big bed in the middle. And just there, in the middle of the bed, leisurely spreaded on the finest silks your country could provide, was Jaemin. And what a sight for sore eyes he was - dressed only in light silk pants,so thin, you could almost make out what’s under them, with only his upper body on display, all in its tanned and muscular glory. Lying there, like a picture perfect example of debauchery, sweaty, used, and covered in lovebites and bodily fluids, as if letting himself to show you what he's there for.

He didn’t scramble off the bed to bow to you, which would be a punishable offense and he must have known. Instead, he let his head drop back on the pillow and with drowsy eyes, tired voice and wide smug smile he asked: 

“Your highness… How can I help you?” he drawled slowly, without any care about what’s proper and what is not. He seemed to enjoy being seen in such a state, especially by you. 

You clenched your jaw. You will not be entertaining this kind of behavior. You promptly turned on your heel and left his room, slamming the door behind you. 

You took on the way back to your quarters, fuming the entire time, but trying to not think about why exactly. 

~~~

It’s been a few days and you can’t sleep again. But this time, you are not trying to. You’ve been periodically alternating lying restlessly in your bed with pacing around your room. You might have checked yourself in the mirror once or twice. And now you’re back in bed, more nervous and anxious than you should be. You keep glimpsing on the clock even though it’s still a little bit too early - your instructions were clear - better later than to be seen. But you still can’t wait, you’re not sure if it’s just the anxiety or also maybe some anticipation. 

The heavy door to your chambers slowly opens, revealing your visitor - Na Jaemin, slipping through the door silently like a cat, closing them after himself without any sound. He’s wearing only a thin, almost translucent white silk shirt and some light linen pants - both entirely inappropriate attire even for slinking through the palace corridors deep at night. He is looking at you, his facial expression neutral, not exposing any of his thoughts. 

“Your highness,” he greets. He doesn’t bow. 

You nod in reply, but don’t know what else to say. Usually you wouldn’t be so shy or embarrassed, but none of your harem members unsettles you like he does. You could just order him around, but it doesn’t feel right, you don’t want it like that. The moment is so awkward that you don’t know whether to start laughing or not, as you are just staring at each other. So you decide to slightly break the tension by lifting the silk duvets in invitation. 

He doesn’t wait a second and swiftly joins you in your massive canopy bed, throwing half of the bedding off on the ground. He settles between your legs, laying down on his belly and pushes your nightgown up. With just a brief glance at your face to confirm his intentions he gets to work. He starts eating your pussy with the skill and talent of someone who, well, eats pussy as a profession - and it would have felt maybe too impersonal if he weren’t so good at it. He’s enthusiastic and he clearly likes doing it, with his eyes closed and occasional humming. It feels good, his tongue feels like it’s everywhere at the same time and the tempo is perfect, even more when he dares to slip two fingers inside you. 

It’s good, too good and you don’t want to come. Not yet, not before he does what needs to be done. But he doesn’t know that yet. 

You reluctantly grab him by his hair and unstick him from your pussy. He looks so beautiful, his eyes are closed and his face is flushed, with sweat gathering on his temples. His lower face is all wet and his lips are so red. He opens his eyes, slowly, blinking: 

“You don’t want to? Is that not why I am here?” he asks, looking surprised. You are not sure whether to trust it or he’s just pretending.  But you don’t feel like you are obligated to explain yourself to him. 

“Take it out. Put it in,” you order. 

“Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” his face transforms completely, his smug wide shark smile back on his face. You let his hair go and he gets up, keeling between your legs, towering over you. He starts to untie his pants. 

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, while grabbing you by your hips, pulling you closer to him so easily as if you weighed nothing. “I heard some gossip about an heir. So are you just using me for breeding?” he says, putting on a fake accusatory tone. How does he have the mental presence to pretend-pout while he’s literally pushing his hard cock inside, flashes through your head. 

He stops when he’s all the way in and leans forward over you, unmoving and staring right into your eyes, his unsettling smile plastered on as usual. 

“Yes.” you do your best to keep your voice stable as he starts moving. You relax and lift your legs to wrap them around his back to push him deeper. His movements are fluid and he’s gentle, clearly thinking of your comfort first, not just hammering in without consideration. 

“The royal court has found you a purpose,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. You drop your head back on the pillows. “And I am not using you, you should be honored.”

“Does the royal court not care about the father of its heirs being just a lowly pleasure slave? Maybe we are more equal than you think, you know” taunts Jaemin. You run your hands over his wide back, holding on for the dear life and he’s starting to fuck you more thoroughly, his tempo getting faster. Despite that, he doesn’t seem to get any winded, his stamina is solid and his self-control clearly impeccable, as he doesn’t seem to be affected in any way. But he is, you can feel him sweat, you can feel the slick wetness between your bodies just as well as you can feel how hard he is. 

“It’s-it’s not important,” you stutter between thrusts. You’re slowly getting there and it’s becoming hard to think. He’s going fast and deep and finally you can hear him getting out of breath. 

“Okay,” he breathes out. He lowers down so he can kiss you on your neck. “I’ll give you your daughters” he puts his lips close to your ear, his deep voiced whispers accompanying his final thrusts, as he loses the rhythm and cums inside of you, with your orgasm following right after, triggered by his and his words. 

You keep holding on to him tightly as you feel pumping his cum inside of you, both coming down from your orgasms. You’re enjoying this closeness and you don’t really want to let go, but everything is getting too hot and sticky, so you reluctantly let him drop on the bed next to you. 

You feel completely liquid but when you glance at him, he’s already recovered, with his breath back to normal and wits fully gathered. 

He grins at you. “Your highness~~ Were you satisfied with my services?”

Yes. “We will see that soon.”

He turns to his side and gets close to cuddle up to you. You don’t know what to do with your limbs, but let him do as he wishes. Which is sticking himself fully onto you like an octopus. 

“I was thinking, If it works out well, maybe you could let me make a few more babies for your court ladies, so the throne heir has friends to play with, what do you think?” he mumbles into your skin.

Fuck no. It’s not that you are possessive, not over a measly harem member, but something about this proposal rubs you the wrong way. You frown and start to fight your way out of his embrace to scold him from a more dignified position, but you’re stuck in an iron cuddle grip. And the more you try to wiggle out, the tighter it gets. 

“Noooooo? Does your majesty not like this idea~~?” he asks. “That’s okay then, we will just have to work eeeeeextra hard to make this one a twins,” he laughs, already scrambling up so he can get between your legs again.

And you can’t help yourself, and laugh with him.  

~~~

a/n: i like to imagine that this jaemin is actually a runaway youngest prince of some neighboring country who decided to become a hitman for hire, because that’s just so much more fun. he loooves killing people, but he really did need a vacation :) 

[poppadom0912]

the reader and jay dated, they ended up breaking up because jay joined the army, he left leaving her a note. the reader moves on but she finds out she's pregnant she decides to keep the baby. ages later she gets a job at intelli, they are at a crime screen, the reader spots her daughter. the team are a little skeptical when they see the reader giving her money. hank brings her in for questioning, the reader tells voight that thats her daughter, jay realises that the girl is his.

Warnings: Mentions of break ups and swearing, angst with a happy ending?

A/N: Hello! I hope this lives up to your standards. I don’t know how happy I am with this but it’s whatever. I felt like adding a backstory would’ve taken away from the main story so i apologise in advance for the differences between what you asked and what i wrote. Hope you enjoy!!

*****

"Alright baby, have lots of fun. Love you lots."

"Love you too. See you later."

And with that, you were alone, watching your daughter run away with her friends.

Recently, whenever you were with her, the guilt was chipping away at your conscious. All because of your job.

You had known Antonio for years, being partners before Intelligence was formed. So when it was established, you joining him was a no brainer.

It was your fault you hadn't ever spoken or told anyone about Eliza's dad. The only one to ever know that you even had a child was Antonio, but all he knew was that a child existed, not their age or gender, and that their father left before you could tell him about your pregnancy.

But then Jay had joined intelligence and the tension between you two was so palpable it could easily take a physical form.

So, you confided in your long-lasting partner who, with this newfound knowledge, wasn't so forthcoming to the man.

Not only did you feel guilt for not telling Jay that he had a daughter, but you also felt guilty for not telling Eliza, who knew she had a father out there in the world somewhere but had never met him.

However, you had shown her countless pictures of him - you weren't that evil - so she was aware that she was her dads carbon copy and when she was a newborn, you struggled to look at her and if she were to ever see him in the streets, she would easily recognise him.

And that's what worried you the most: the two of them accidentally meeting without you present.

*****

The murderer on your current case had struck again and everyone was at the crime scene doing their respective jobs.

As you were finishing talking to an eyewitness, you caught sight of a familiar group of girls at the back of the crowd of bystanders, a certain brunette standing out to you.

"Sorry Tonio, give me two minutes."

Without waiting for a reply, you patted him on the arm and walked away, aware of his eyes and a few others following your movements.

Were you acting without thinking? Yes

Did anyone know who your daughter was? No!

Was this going to be a mistake? Oh, definitely but having your baby at a crime scene took precedent in this situation.

“Elizabeth Y/L/N, what are you doing here?” You asked, bending under the yellow tape and pushing her and her friends away so they could talk without anyone eavesdropping.

“The cinema’s around the corner.” Your daughter pointed somewhere behind you. She was the only one talking and from the looks of all her friends faces, she’d be the only one to do so.

“Alright well, this street is inaccessible for the rest of the day.’ You said, your tone strict and firm. “Here, take this and get yourself some food from that place you all like.”

The smile that brightened up her face, you could never stay indifferent to that for long.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You warned them, a soft smile remaining on your lips as you waved them off. All her friends saying their thank-you’s and goodbyes in sync.

You walked back to Antonio with your chest feeling lighter.

Unfortunately for you, you failed to notice the look shared between Voight and Al.

*****

You’d been over the moon when you saw the two lines. You and Jay had been dating since High School and despite never seriously talking about having kids, you both knew that marriage and starting a family together was going to be in your future.

Trying to contain your excitement, you went about your day as usual, going to work, talking with colleagues and friends, doing the groceries before going home.

Surprisingly, the apartment was quiet and empty when you stepped through the door. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday, Jay always finished work before you. It was an unspoken rule that whoever got home first was in charge of dinner.

But today, everything was dark and in the same conditions you left it in this morning.

Turning all the room lights on as you walked through the apartment in search of your long-term boyfriend, you stumbled upon an envelope addressed to you in very familiar handwriting.

Feeling your heart thundering in your throat, you carelessly set the grocery bags aside and picked up the envelope with shaky fingers.

‘Y/N, I wish it didn’t…’

With those words, your entire world and everything you knew came crumbling down.

*****

Back in the bullpen, everyone stood back as Antonio presented the new information gathered from the previous crime scene. As Antonio finished, Adam came in, adding what he knew from a very knowledgeable witness.

As you were trying to pay close attention, you felt someone watching you. Such an uncomfortable feeling causing you to turn around and make eye contact with your boss who jutted his head towards his office.

Confused, you followed his silent instructions with no questions, aware of the multiple eyes belonging to your coworkers that were following your movements.

Closing the door behind you, you remained standing as Voight leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms.

“Anything you wanna tell me?” The suspicion was sky clear in his tone.

Your brows furrowed in further confusion, your mind struggling to follow what he was insinuating and where this was going.

“No? I’m sorry but I don’t think I understand.” You licked your lips in uncertainty. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

He just continued to stare at you blankly. Now you were starting to get nervous.

“If you tell me now, I can cover for you. We can work something out, but you have to tell me.”

You wanted to scream out all your frustrations. What the hell was he on about?

When you remained silent, he finally gave in.

“Who were you giving money to?”

A laugh slipped out from the revelation which you immediately tried covering up with a cough so you weren’t given a reprimand.

“She’s my daughter.” You revealed, a small smile on your face as you spilt one of your biggest secrets to him. “No one knows besides Antonio but all he knows is that I have a child, not their age, gender. Nothing.”

Instantly, he knew your reasons without you justifying yourself.

“You’re keeping her under wraps?”

You nodded, “from everyone.”

*****

Jay wasn't dumb.

Ever since he joined intelligence, things between the two of you had been awkward from the get-go. Your shared past was known to all your colleagues and it was never brought up.

But it seems that Antonio would never get over it as still to this day, a grudge was sometimes still held against him which given the circumstances, Jay understood.

Several years working together, you two were fine. You'd talk only when needed and hang out only in group settings. Other than that, you were never seen together.

Somewhere deep down, Jay wished that you would allow him to explain himself and finally apologise but your grudge was ten times stronger than Antonio's.

At the crime scene earlier today, everyone had seen you walk away and very suspiciously talk to a group of girls who you then handed money to.

The silent knowing looks they all shared held the same message. They all loved and adored you but they couldn't be ignorant to what they just saw.

Voight pulling you away to talk privately in his office only confirmed their suspicions.

When you re-joined them again a little later, the air was thick in anticipation, everyone wondering what happened between you and Voight.

You picked up on it straight away.

Now you hesitated. Telling Hank about your daughter was one thing. He was your boss and that man could take even the biggest secret to his grave.

It wasn't that you didn't trust them because you did, you would and do trust them with your life. But as soon as you revealed her age, everyone would connect the dots and that would lead to you being forced to actually talk to Jay.

"Umm." You licked you lips, wondering how to say it exactly. "Well, that girl I gave money to, she's not some criminal rando... She's my daughter."

Silence.

More silence.

"No fucking way."

"What?!"

"You have a freaking child?"

All their voices overlapped as they expressed their shock, Antonio clearly less so than the rest of them but still surprised nonetheless at knowing more.

You couldn't bear to look in Jay's direction.

"You have a fully grown child. Oh my gosh, you have to tell us everything." Kim asked nicely, her eyes wide from shock but also happiness. "Y/N, you’re a mother!"

You laughed, her giddiness contagious.

"Her name's Elizabeth." You started, smile soft and a sparkle about your eyes as you spoke about your favourite person and subject in the world. "It's always just been the two of us, so it's never been easy but we manage."

The rest of that hour was spent not working but everyone listening intently as you finally spoke about your daughter.

Jay finding you alone in the locker room at the end of the day wasn't a surprise. You'd been waiting for him to say something for a while now.

"Elizabeth?" He paused, watching you sat on the bench as you got your things together. "You named her after my mum."

The emotion was strong, weighing heavy down on his tongue, making it hard to talk. You still couldn't look at him, keeping your eyes trained in front of you inside your locker.

"Of course I did. That's what we planned, no?" You reminded him of the time you both came up with baby names. "I love your mum more than my own."

"And she's..."

"She's turning twelve."

"Fuck."

You couldn't stand the thick tension.

"She knows about you." You fiddled with the string bracelet around your wrist. "She's grown up knowing everything about you. I've sown her pictures of you and us and-"

You exhaled shakily, the emotions starting to get to you. "I've tried my best with her, to keep her opinion neutral but gosh Jay. You've caused me so much pain that at times it's so hard to see her adore this idea of you when she knows nothing of what you did to me."

Jay didn't try to stop your rant. "And I've been so scared that one day she'd see you in the streets and you'd reject her but-"

"I don't know how I feel about you back in our lives- back in my life." You finally looked at him, your eyes glistening from unshed tears. "I can't go through the pain again."

"Y/N, I'm-"

"No." You stopped him, your eyes burning into his. "I've already accepted your apology but this is going to take time. I'll introduce you to her and if you want, you can get involved in her life but leave me alone."

You were breathing heavily when you finished your rant.

"I can do that." Jay complied without a moment to waste. "Anything you want, anything she wants, I'll do it."

You exhaled shakily.

Wiping your eyes, you closed your locker door and zipped up your bag. Checking yourself in the mirror, you reapplied lip balm and patted your under eyes dry.

"I'll text you my address"

Jay stumbled on his words, confused at what you meant. "What? I-"

"She's home now. Did you want to meet her?"

"Yes. Yes please."

[rottenpumpkin13]

Imagine the firsts getting competitive over queens blood

Why Queen's Blood Is Banned From SOLDIER, A List

• Some people don't know how to play fair and make up rules on the spot, which results in arguments between opponents. One time Zack made up the rule that slapping down three cactuar cards automatically wins the game, and Kunsel was so enraged he shoved a cactuar card down Zack's throat.

• Some people⏤Sephiroth⏤are too good at QB and and it angers others who don't stand a chance against them, leading to cheating accusations. This came after Angeal was so convinced Sephiroth was cheating that he called the police. This resulted in Lazard having to explain to the dispatched officers that the "cheating" in question was because of QB and not Sephiroth cheating on his apparent lover Angeal.

• Some people⏤Genesis⏤don't know how to lose, which turns the above point violent. Genesis has been known to throw entire decks out the window and set them on fire if he loses. If he loses to Sephiroth, guarantee the table will be broken in half and they end up on the ground in a fist fight.

• Sephiroth lost to Genesis once and Genesis never let him forget it, bringing it up in every conversation. Sephiroth grew tired of this, so he did the healthy thing and attempted to staple Genesis's mouth shut.

• The matches take too long because no one wants to lose, so they spend time planning their moves and strategies. One match between Angeal and Zack took three hours, they skipped a giant mission they had been prepping for weeks for, Lazard had a heart attack, and in the end Zack realized he had spent three hours pouring his concentration into the game for nothing. He had to be sedated.

• The Counterfeit Booster Pack Fiasco: Kunsel started selling shady "limited edition" QB decks behind Lazard's back⏤selling things is also banned from the 49th floor. They started selling like hot cakes, but Lazard caught wind that there was something going on. So he interrogated Sephiroth.

Lazard: I know that there's unauthorized goods being distributed amongst the program.

Sephiroth: You don't say.

Lazard: Tell me what it is.

Sephiroth: How would I know?

Lazard: Eyewitnesses claim to have seen you purchase something from Kunsel in the men's bathroom this morning.

Sephiroth, not thinking AT ALL: It was candy.

• And that's why sniffer dogs were brought in at 9 AM on a Wednesday and everyone had to do a drug test.

• Random people pop in at random times of the day to play against SOLDIERs. Reno uses this as a way to bet money and has scammed Zack out of three paychecks already. Cloud swings by on occasion to beat all three 1sts, enjoy watching them lose, and leaves.

• Deck theft runs rampant. Every day there are reports over stolen QB decks and accusations that have ruined several friendships, which hinders everyone's ability to work together. No one is safe. Sephiroth's deck got stolen, Genesis's deck got stolen, Angeal accused Sephiroth and Genesis of theft, Zack....has a suspicious amount of good cards.

• People play when they should be working.

Lazard: Angeal, where's your mission report?

Angeal: Genesis ate it.

Lazard: Excuse me?

Angeal: I beat Sephiroth in a QB match and Genesis was so jealous and enraged he grabbed the report right off my desk and chewed off a chunk.

Lazard: I'm convinced that there's crack in those apples.

• The straw that broke the camel's back and got QB officially banned, though, was the match between Sephiroth and Genesis that ended in them getting stitches because they discovered a way to effectively stab each other with the cards.

• Its rumored that the mere mention of Queen's Blood is enough to make Lazard have a nervous breakdown.

[leiascully]

Smutty fic prompt? Established MSR. Mulder and Scully are on a case, Mulder is being serious, Scully is amused but not convinced - and just wants to stay at the hotel and have sex for the week because the case is a total waste of time. Mulder telling her everything he wants to do to her but ultimately rebuffs all advances, and it’s all fun and games because Scully thinks he’d rather chase monsters than put his money where his mouth is. Anyway — he ends up being a man of his word which takes her by surprise

I think this fills your prompt, anon.

9000 words; M/E for sexual situations including pegging; good little agents don't consort while on assignment, but they really, really want to. (ao3 link)

“You’re serious.” She fixed him with a level gaze over the roof of the rental car.

“I’m always serious,” he said, and they both ignored the inherent fallacies in that statement. “Are you serious? You thought I brought you up here to play house?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” She gestured at the forest around them and the quaint bed and breakfast standing in the clearing. “That you brought me up to an adorable B&B on the wooded shores of Lake Champlain for a week to hunt another sea monster no one’s ever actually seen?”

“There have been over 300 eyewitness reports of a snake-like creature in the lake, dating back to the Iroquois,” Mulder told her. “That doesn’t even include the latest series of reports. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to investigate it.”

“First of all,” she said, “your last lake monster ate my dog.”

“It wasn’t my lake monster,” he muttered.

“Second of all,” she said, fixing him with a steely eye, “last time you took me on a trip that was so obviously a wild goose chase, we hadn’t yet escalated our relationship. So yes, Fox, I thought you brought me here to play house.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re back to Fox?”

“I think I’ve earned the right to use your first name now and again.” She smirked. “After all, I’ve been inside you.”

To her surprise, he blushed.

“How many rooms did you get?”

She heard his feet shuffle. He wouldn’t look at her. “Two.”

She sighed. “Lake monster.”

“Lake monster that’s been frightening tourists,” he said. He came around the car and stood a little too close to her, the way he always did. “The tourism bureau asked around. Someone told them we were the people to solve their problem.”

She leaned against the car and tipped her head back to look at him. “Two rooms.”

“Come on, Scully,” he said in a low voice that made her tingle. “You know the people in finance already share our expense reports around. I want to win the betting pool.”

“And what will you do with your thousands?” she teased.

He shifted even closer. She felt her lips part in anticipation as he leaned down, but he skimmed past her mouth to whisper in her ear: “Take you on a real vacation.”

She reached out past the loose lapels of his suit jacket and hooked her finger into the waist of his trousers. “You better.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped back, taking her with him like they were dancing. They’d always been dancing, she thought. Two steps forward, three steps back, but rarely entirely out of sync. He reached behind him to pop the trunk and pulled out her suitcase, pretending to strain against the weight of it. “Maybe you won’t need this many clothes for our vacation.”

“Hmm,” she said, “maybe I’ll bring something less bulky than a suit.”

“You could wear one of those little t-shirts,” he suggested. “Some cutoff jean shorts.” He paused, clearly caught up in an intriguing possibility. “You could wear my boxers.”

She smiled at him. “Maybe even something more abbreviated than that.”

He dropped his voice even more. “Scully, are you holding out on me? Do you own lingerie I haven’t seen?”

She leaned into him, slipping her fingers further into his trousers to graze the elastic of his boxers under his shirttail. “I guess you’re not gonna find out this week.”

He groaned.

She gave her fingers one last wiggle and extracted them from his waistband. He heaved his own suitcase out of the trunk and closed it. They trundled their luggage along the brick path and up the stairs. She looked at him one last time as they stood on the porch in front of the lobby windows.

“Two rooms?”

“Don’t worry, Scully,” he murmured. “I’m sure I’ll be able to hear you through the wall.”

Heat flooded her body as he opened the door and ushered her in with one hand at the small of her back. This time, she didn’t mind that he’d gotten the last word.

+ + +

When they were checked in and settled, she went to his room and sat on the bed. All the furniture in the place seemed to be charmingly mismatched antiques. Mulder’s bed had four posters and it creaked picturesquely when she shifted her weight. “Tell me about our suspect.”

“Champ?”

She sighed and rubbed her hand over her face. “Of course it’s called Champ.”

“We’re dealing with a protected species here, Scully.” Mulder leaned against his dresser. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “The lake was declared a safe haven for its resident monster in 1981. In 1984, 58 different people claim to have seen Champ. Early reports declared it to resemble an enormous serpent with the head of a sea horse, a white star on its forehead, and a band of red around its extremely long neck.” He stepped forward to pass her a fuzzy copy of a photograph. She studied it. “This is the Mansi photograph. No one’s ever been able to debunk it, but Sandra Mansi destroyed the negative, so nobody’s ever been able to authenticate it either.”

“Naturally.” She got up and went to the window. The lake was visible as a blue glint through the trees. “And what crimes has Champ perpetrated?”

“Overturning small watercraft, biting fish off people’s lines, that kind of thing.” He joined her at the window. “No human casualties.”

She let her shoulder brush his chest. “So what are we doing here? It doesn’t sound like there’s anything for us to investigate. If anything, this level of activity would draw in tourists and benefit businesses like this one. The loss of a fish here and there seems negligible.”

“No human casualties yet,” he said, “but there have been reports of people feeling something large brush against them in an area where there was no underwater debris.”

“Are there fish in the lake?”

“Big ones,” he said. “Sturgeon and gar, for starters.”

She gestured. “Ta da. There’s your suspect.”

“Neither sturgeon nor gar are capable of disappearing multiple swimmers and boaters.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You never lead with the most pertinent information.”

“Impertinence is my middle name.” His eyes twinkled as he grinned at her.

“I think I read that in your file.” She turned to face him. “So what are we supposed to do about it?”

“We do what we do. Dredge the truth up from the depths.”

She looked longingly at the bed. “Wouldn’t local law enforcement be better at this? We know nothing about the area.”

“Local law enforcement hasn’t turned up anything.” He sat on the bed and took her hands, drawing her close to stand between his knees. “Help them, Scully-Wan Kenobi. You’re their only hope.”

She softened, gazing down at him. By default, they’d become two of the foremost experts in American cryptozoology, and their solve rate on missing persons cases was the envy of the Bureau. Maybe it was Mulder’s intuition; maybe it was her eye for detail. She couldn’t deny that their expertise was unparalleled in cases like this, paranormal or not. “I want a nice vacation after this.”

“I promise.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“And not to Loch Ness.”

He laughed, soft and low. “I promise that too.” He looked up at her and his eyes were like a forest fire. The blaze in them kindled an answering flame in her belly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She pouted a little. “How?”

“Very, very slowly.” He licked his lips, making his meaning clear. Scully squirmed and he pressed his knees into her hips, pinning her there.

“Did we ever decide if we can consort during a case?”

“Go against the regulations?” He turned her hands over and rubbed his cheek with its incipient stubble over the soft skin of her wrist. “Why, Agent Scully, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

She curled her fingers around his jaw and ran her thumb over his lips. “And if we solve this thing tomorrow?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Then I guess I’m buying plane tickets and you’re buying lingerie.”

“This B&B could be haunted,” she suggested. “Then we’d have to stay and investigate.”

He squinted up at her fondly. “Why didn’t I know you were susceptible to the charms of creaky floors, Scully?”

“Maybe you don’t know me very well.” She tilted her head, challenging him to challenge the patent absurdity of the statement.

“Then I’d like to know you better,” he said in a voice like velvet. Damn him, he always understood exactly how to disarm her.

“Not until we solve this,” she scolded him, and stepped away. “I’m going to freshen up.”

“Hey, Scully?” he said from the bed.

“Hmm?” She turned in the doorway to face him.

“How big a box of condoms do you think the drugstore will sell me?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know, but buy two.”

She heard him exhale in a rush as she slipped out the door.

+ + +

As it turned out, they shared a bathroom. She’d been too distracted to think about the geography of it when she’d glimpsed the door in his room. The B&B was an old house with a lot of additions. She doubted there was a true angle in the place. But it was charming. There was a clawfoot bathtub that she was definitely going to get better acquainted with.

She freshened up and changed into her small-town uniform of jeans and a windbreaker. People in places like this often distrusted suits. She’d learned over the years that she needed all the credibility she could get. For some reason, showing up armed with federal credentials and factoids about cryptids didn’t garner much respect.

Mulder was also wearing jeans when she found him downstairs. Scully was suddenly glad he’d cut his hair. If he’d been looking like that with his hair falling over his forehead, she would have dragged him straight back upstairs, and let anyone missing stay missing. His ass, hugged by denim, was a more compelling force than anything previously discovered in her known universe.

Instead, she took the file folder he offered here and spent the drive to the local police station reviewing the details. Behind a thick stack of garbled reports of enormous, half-visible underwater shadows and unexpected friction, she found the reports. Most of the people who’d gone missing had been found a few hours or a day later, including a group of teens who’d been stranded when their boat ran out of gas. Fortunately, they’d been in shouting distance of Burton Island State Park, and someone had spotted them the next morning. There was the occasional death by drowning, but the bodies turned up with marks of predation that didn’t indicate anything bigger than fish. Frankly, Scully didn’t know why most of them were included. A nine-year-old who’d wandered away in search of ice cream and been rediscovered sleeping in his parents’ car didn’t deserve a missing persons report. But it was a small town. Maybe local PD didn’t have much else to do.

There were two people who had disappeared the previous week and hadn’t been found. Both women in their thirties. A place like this would need seasonal workers, but when Scully checked their addresses, they were both townies. Grown and raised here, graduates of the local high school (go Panthers). One worked in an antique shop (of course). One managed an ice cream parlor and its attendant roster of high school employees.

“Just these two actually missing persons?” she asked.

Mulder drummed on the steering wheel. “So far.”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “And you’re sure this isn’t a joke case? Something you dreamed up so we could dillydally on someone else’s dime?”

“This is a legitimate investigation,” he assured her. “Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz are gone. No one’s seen or heard from them. They were fishing buddies. Their boat was found washed up on shore halfway across the lake with all their tackle in it.”

“I take it this was uncharacteristic behavior.”

He nodded as he flipped on the turn signal. “Neither of them’s missed a day of work in years without a doctor’s note. Never late. Reliable as the sunrise.”

She examined Naomi’s photo. A young-looking thirty-something with dark wavy hair. She was smiling in the photo, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And now…what, devoured by a mythical creature?”

“It’s a possibility,” Mulder said. “However extreme. The boat wasn’t far from one of the areas where frequent sightings have occurred.”

Scully flipped the page and re-read the sparse details of Naomi’s life. “Allegedly.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. It was a familiar push and pull between them. No case would have felt complete without it.

They reached the edges of the town, and then, very quickly, the center. The police station was easy to find. When they walked in, Scully knew jeans had been the right choice. It wasn’t the kind of place a suit would garner any kind of respect.

“Gosh, we will be glad of the help,” said the police chief. Her name tag said Hughes. She seemed earnest enough. “We do stay busy around here during tourist season. Not just people going missing, but petty theft, the occasional fire, all that. A lotta DUIs, if I’m honest.”

“And you’re…experts?” Chief Hughes’ second-in-command was standing in the corner of the room, thumbs hooked into his pockets. “In…Champ?”

“We’ve done extensive work in cryptozoology,” Scully said coolly. “Champ, as you call it, is just one example of a larger clade of hypothetical marine reptiles. If these women were consumed by such a creature, we would be able to verify that predation occurred. If there are other, less fantastic explanations, we’ll find those.” She glanced at Mulder, who was lounging in his chair. “Isn’t that right, Agent Mulder.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Agent Scully.” He smiled at the police chief, who blinked back at him, her mouth open just slightly.

He was such a little shit sometimes.

+ + +

They spent the day on the lake. It might have been romantic, if it hadn’t been for the trio of deputies assigned to them. They kept looking at Mulder and Scully, nervous or envious or skeptical or some combination of all three. She was used to it. Big city feds in their sunglasses and windbreakers inspired a variety of interesting feelings in their less cosmopolitan counterparts. She’d seen it all.

“Bet I could bully them into letting me drive the boat,” Mulder whispered to Scully, leaning in so the deputies couldn’t hear them.

“You’d have to dump me in the lake first,” she whispered back.

“And let you get eaten by Champ?” His eyebrows crimped together under his sunglasses in an exaggerated expression of woe. “Scully. I would never.”

“I would,” she told him.

“I accept my fate.” He sat back, stretched his arms along the side of the boat.

The deputies showed them where the boat had been found, the boat, the intact tackle. Scully examined it all dutifully. Mulder examined it less dutifully, gazing out over the water. He had one hand on his hip, the other shading his already shaded eyes. He looked like a statue.

“Does he see something?” one of the deputies asked Scully. Her voice was hushed, almost worshipful.

“I’m sure if he does, he’ll let you know,” Scully told her.

The purported victims’ boat having yielded nothing, the deputies herded their federal charges back onto their own departmental boat. Scully peered into the depths, Mulder’s hand braced on her back. No serpents emerged. There wasn’t so much as the silver flicker of a fish, although that was telling, in its own way. But they’d disturbed the waters with the wake of their boat, coming and going. The fish had fled the limnetic zone because of the noise of the motor, not because of some primordial beast.

Still, it was nice: the sunshine on the water, the convivial throng of tourists on the beaches. She and Mulder talked to the assistant manager at Cassy’s ice cream parlor, a young man clearly flummoxed by his brevet promotion.

“I don’t know,” he said, bewildered. “She’s great. Runs this place - ran this place - really well. I mean it’s hard to deal with a bunch of kids sometimes, right? But she started working here when she was a kid and just never stopped. I don’t know. I don’t know.” He put his face in his hands. Scully patted him on the shoulder, a little gingerly.

Afterward, they got ice cream: strawberry for Scully, butter pecan for Mulder. They carried their windbreakers folded inside out over their arms to hide their credentials. They might have been anyone. They walked along the lake shore and he smiled down at her and they could have been an ordinary couple. The sunshine gleamed on his skin and brought out gold flecks in the green of his eyes. She couldn’t stop looking at his mouth.

“What?” He licked his lips exaggeratedly. “Ice cream?”

She shook her head.

“Then what?”

She squinted up at him. “You’re just really pretty sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

She smiled. “Sometimes.”

“Well, you’re really pretty all the time.” He bumped her with his arm. “And that’s my professional opinion, by the way. I’ve been working on your profile a long time. I don’t want to brag, but I’m known for my powers of observation.”

“That’s not what profiling is,” she said sternly.

He tilted his head at her. “Sometimes.”

She huffed: not a laugh, not a sigh, but happy. “Sometimes.”

+ + +

They got dinner at a little restaurant. The fish was fresh, the coleslaw was crisp, and the fries were hot. There was homemade pie on the menu and Scully indulged in that too. If she couldn’t have Mulder, she was going to treat herself in other ways. It had cooled off by the time they finished dinner. Scully shrugged her windbreaker on. On the drive back to the B&B, they rolled down the windows of the rental car.

“This is summer,” Mulder said with satisfaction. “T-shirts in the afternoon, sweaters in the evening.”

“Not like DC,” Scully said. She put her arm out the window and spread her fingers to feel the breeze push through them.

“Not like DC,” Mulder agreed. “Unless you like being wrapped in a wet wool blanket.”

Scully let her head loll over on the headrest, gazing at him. “I can think of other things I’d rather be wrapped in.”

Mulder flicked his eyes at her. “Or maybe you’d rather be unwrapped?”

“Maybe I would.” She tipped her hand so the breeze washed over it. “But someone put a note on me that says ‘Do not open until Christmas’.”

“Not until Christmas, Scully,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Just until we’ve wrapped the case.”

“Wrapping begets unwrapping. I see.”

“A little motivation for us,” he suggested.

“You know, I always thought that I’d be the one who insisted we separate work and play,” Scully mused.

He chuckled. “I did too. Turns out you’re not the good girl you play on tv, Agent Scully.”

She wished that didn’t send a little thrill through her. “Aren’t you glad I’m not?”

“Desperately,” he said, with a raspy edge to his voice that sent another frisson up her spine. He pulled into the little lot of the B&B and turned the car off, then slung his arm over the steering wheel and turned to her. “Don’t think I wouldn’t unwrap you right now, Scully.”

“Haven’t we paid enough cleaning fees to the rental agency?” she said, leaning toward him just a little. Mulder’s event horizon extended too far - she’d been pulled in unexpectedly so many times.

“Not for this.” His voice strummed a chord inside her. “Variety is the spice of life, Scully.”

“Uh huh.” She tipped her chin up. “And what would you do with me, if you unwrapped me in this rental car?”

“Obviously, I’d start with kissing,” Mulder told her. “I’m a gentleman. I’d never jump right in unless you asked for it.”

“Mmhmm,” Scully said.

“Oh, sorry, I misspoke,” Mulder said. His eyes glinted. “I meant I wouldn’t jump right in unless you begged for it.”

Scully licked her lips. “And under what circumstances do you think I’d beg for it?”

“If I kissed your neck for long enough, you might,” he said. She was staring at his mouth, half-hypnotized. “That spot behind your ear. If I put you on my lap and played with your tits and you could feel how much I wanted you.”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I’ve always considered myself to be a stubborn person. I don’t think that would do it.”

“Maybe if I stretched you out in the backseat. Braced myself over you. Stroked my way up the inside of your thigh,” he suggested. “Never quite touching exactly where you wanted. I’d use my hands, my leg. Maybe my lips. Just teasing until you can’t stand it any longer.”

“Mulder.”

“Yeah?”

“Is that what you were doing for the past seven years?”

“Metaphorically,” he said, twinkling at her. His eyes were dark. “Are you ready to beg?”

She leaned forward, her lips nearly touching his. “Good night, Mulder.” She climbed out of the car and left him in the dark surrounded by the song of crickets.

+ + +

Later, in bed by herself, she touched herself just like he’d imagined, drawing her fingertips up the soft skin to brush her curls over and over until she was shivering with need. She didn’t stifle her cries. When she finally dragged her thumb over her clit, she said his name. She thought she heard a groan from the other side of the wall.

She was glad it was a small B&B. That meant fewer eavesdroppers. The other guests all seemed to be adults, at least. Maybe their vacations would be improved by this kind of soundtrack. It was her turn to be the one gasping in her tangled covers, even if she was doing it alone.

+ + +

The next day, she fell in the lake.

They’d borrowed the boat and the deputies again. Mulder was studying a map of the lake. It was all marked up with places of particular interest. Maybe that’s what he’d been doing while she was raking just the edges of her nails up the crease of her thigh.

“Right down there,” he said, peering over the gunwale. “There’s a deep spot. Maybe that’s where its den is.”

“Its den?” Scully said, joining him. “Doesn’t it have to breathe? Or is that part of the myth?”

“There could be pockets of air underwater,” Mulder said. “An intricate system of caves. Or maybe it can hold its breath.” He turned to look at her. Scully glanced over his shoulder. The deputies were watching them breathlessly. “Some whales can hold their breath for hours. Maybe Champ can too.”

“Maybe something cold-blooded needs less oxygen,” she said. “It might have a slower metabolism. And the red band around its neck - that could be a primitive system of gills. That could allow it to stay underwater, even in the benthic zone.”

“I love it when you come out to play,” he murmured, just quiet enough that the deputies couldn’t hear.

She opened her mouth to reply to him and then the boat rocked on a huge swell of water and she went over the gunwale before she could reach for the railing.

“Scully!” Mulder shouted, and grabbed for her, but she was past the point of no return and his grip on her ankle just meant she banged her side hard on the boat as she splashed into the water. It was cold in the lake. She was soaked instantly, water pouring into her shoes and down her collar. The current swirled, tugging at her, pulling at her until she couldn’t tell which way was up. Scully opened her eyes. She was deeper than she’d thought. The darkness under her rippled. She kicked toward the surface. Mulder was reaching toward her almost as soon as her head broke the water. He and one of the deputies hauled her into the boat while the other two braced themselves against the other gunwale.

“Are you okay?” he asked. A deputy passed him a towel and he blotted her face gently with it.

She spit out a bit of lake water and took the towel from him to squeeze water out of her hair. “I lost my sunglasses.”

“Tragic.” He took off his own and settled them on her nose. They were too big and slipped down, but she loved him for it all the same. She patted her pockets. She still had her badge and her wet brick of a phone and her wallet. Fortunately, Mulder had the keys to the rental car.

“Agent Mulder?” said one of the deputies. “What made the boat tip?”

“Heavy wake from another boat,” Scully said automatically. “A gust of wind that created an abnormally large wave. Unregistered seismic activity.”

“Or a lake monster,” Mulder said, still looking her over. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he turned to the deputies. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” said one.

“Not a boat big enough to pull that kind of wake,” said another. “You’d need a ferry.”

The last one shuffled her feet. “A shadow,” she said at last. “I think. Maybe nothing.”

Scully coughed. Mulder rubbed her back. He was pressed against her side. Her wet clothes were soaking him, but he didn’t move away. “Sorry to say, Deputy, you’re going to spend a lot of time investigating shadows if you stick with this job.”

The deputy’s brow was furrowed. “Do you think that’s what happened to Cassy and Naomi? A wave? But they could swim. Everyone here can swim.”

“All their gear was still in the boat,” Mulder pointed out. “They fell out and the tackle box didn’t?”

“I guess not.” The deputy looked troubled. “The lake’s too deep to dredge and too big to dive.”

“Then all we can do is our best,” Scully said. She shivered. The sunshine was bright, but the breeze ruffling the water kept it from warming her.

“Let’s get you somewhere where you can dry off,” Mulder said, and the deputies took the hint and powered up the engine.

+ + +

Scully ran a very hot bath in the clawfoot tub. Her clothes had dried a little in transit - they were definitely going to get a cleaning fee for the rental car, and not for any entertaining reasons - but she was still too wet and too cold to be comfortable. She peeled off her clothes and hung them on the towel bar with her damp towel from the boat underneath to catch drips. It was a relief to climb into the steaming foamy bath. She sighed, her whole body relaxing into the warmth as she tipped her head back to rinse her hair.

When she thought of the lake, she got fragments of memory. The breathless moment going overboard. The splash. The cold. The dark. It had only been an hour or two and yet it slipped away from her. She was glad she’d given a report before they’d come back to the B&B. Had there been something looming below her in the darkness? Even in the moment, she hadn’t been sure. Had she been brushed by a tangle of floating weeds? Had the water been agitated by cross-currents from boats speeding over the busy lake?

Had a monster tipped her into the water, or was it a silly mistake on a slippery deck?

She sighed again, sinking into the water up to her chin. For a while she drifted, eyes closed. The window was open for a crossbreeze and the smell of lake and pine mingled dreamily with the lavender scent of the bubble bath. She lay there, imagining the life of a prehistoric creature trapped in the modern world. If there were a monster, what had it seen? How much did it understand about the changes in its habitat? Did it long for the past? Had it eaten Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz? Had there been other victims?

The adjoining door creaked open. Mulder walked in and knelt by the tub, pillowing his arms on the side.

She opened one eye. “I thought we weren’t consorting while on assignment.”

“We’re not consorting.” He brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead and resettled his chin on his arms. “We’re conferring.”

She made a skeptical noise. “How collegial of us.” Most of the bubbles had popped, and what remained didn’t provide much modesty. They’d had less-clothed conversations about work, but not many.

“What happened at the lake?” she asked.

“You tell me.” He gazed at her. “You were the one in the drink.”

She pushed herself up a little in the tub so they were face to face. His eyes dropped predictably to her breasts and dragged back up to her face. “A larger-than-average wave rocked the boat. I fell in. There was some kind of current that pulled me further under than would usually result from a fall of such a short distance. I can’t speak to its origin. During my brief time under the water, I thought I saw movement below me, but it could have been anything, Mulder. A shadow. A log.”

“An ancient reptile.” The sun had shifted and the bathroom was draped in shade. What light there was reflected patchily off the bathwater to dapple Mulder’s face. She wondered if there had been a time in her life when she hadn’t known how beautiful he was. She couldn’t remember that either. Her life before Mulder felt somehow insignificant.

“What did you see?” she asked him.

“I only had eyes for you,” he said.

“You’re losing your touch,” she said lightly.

“I’m all right with that.” His eyes searched hers. “As long as you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. I’ve been wet before.” Her lips quirked. “You of all people should know that.”

“I had a suspicion.” He tipped his cheek onto his bicep.

“I have a suspicion of my own,” she said. He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue. “Cassy Miller and Naomi Diaz ran away or disappeared through otherwise un-supernatural circumstances.”

“Going out on a limb there, Agent,” Mulder told her. “I don’t know if I can present that kind of wild theory to Skinner.”

“If, and I stress if, there were a mysterious reptile that had been inhabiting this lake for centuries if not millennia, I don’t think it would target humans. We’re too noisy, too fast. Increased activity on the lake would likely drive it deeper, not provoke it.”

“Unless it were desperate,” Mulder said. “A drop in the population of fish. Rising temperatures in the lake.”

“A species would take generations to adapt to the changes that have occurred in the local environment, but this is one hypothetical individual, Mulder. One organism can alter its behavior on a timescale far more rapid.”

He nodded against his arm, just a little. “They were last seen in a boat.”

“So the report says,” Scully said. “But Cassy Miller’s car is missing.”

“There are actually a surprising number of car thefts for a town this size,” Mulder told her. “Something about teens and tourists.”

Scully opened her palm above the water. Her fingers were pruny. “That’s my theory.”

“I respect it,” Mulder said. “But I haven’t decided yet whether I agree.”

“Why am I not surprised.” She cupped water in her hand, let it pour over her breasts. The bubbles sluiced down the slope of her chest, pearling around her nipples. She watched Mulder watch her. His breath caught a little and his pupils darkened. “Are we still conferring, or have we moved on to consorting?”

“You know there’s nothing I want more than to climb into that tub with you,” he said in a low voice.

“I can recommend against wet denim,” she said. “The chafing ruins the mood.” She thought of straddling his lap, feeling the friction of the sodden fabric against her skin, and rubbed her thighs together in anticipation. Up until the chafing, it would be delicious.

“I think I learned my lesson today,” he told her. “No clothes. Just you on top of me, skin on skin. You could take your time. I’d worship your tits.”

“I think your vision ends up with water all over the bathroom floor.” She let her hand drift down her body.

“Worth it.” Hunger flickered in his eyes.

“Is it consorting if I’m pursuing solitary pleasures while we’re discussing a case?” she asked.

He laughed. “If so, we’ve been consorting for years.”

“I knew it,” she said. Her fingers wandered down her belly, strayed lower.

“Fuck, Scully,” he said roughly. “You know I can withstand anything except temptation.”

She toyed with her curls, imagining the slow swell of his erection. He shifted a little on his heels as she pushed her fingers between her folds and stroked slowly. She let her head loll against the porcelain. Her other hand rose to stroke her breast. Mulder took a deep breath and let it out in a slow hiss.

“You know there’s nothing but your own conscience stopping you from getting into this tub.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts out of the water.

“I told you,” he said. “I’m trying to take this seriously. I take you seriously. Everything we’re doing deserves our full attention, Scully. The work. This.” He gestured between them. “Whatever you think about my lake monster theory, there are two women missing. People are worried about them.”

“I know that,” she said, an edge creeping into her voice. Her hands slipped away from their pleasant tasks.

“We crossed a line together,” he said. “I don’t regret it. I’ll never, ever regret it. But there are other lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“You’re the one who keeps telling me all the things we’d be doing if we weren’t working,” she snapped.

“And I mean every word of it.” It sounded like a vow. “When we’re done here, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your name. But we’re not finished.”

“I’m finished.” She toed the stopper out of the train and hauled herself up out of the water, too cranky to finish what she’d started. He rocked back on his heels, looking wounded. “With this bath, Mulder. I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up for dinner.”

“I will,” he said. He handed her an enormous fluffy towel and helped her out of the tub.

“Scully,” he said as she opened the door to her room, and she turned just enough to indicate she was listening. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She went back to her room, dried off, rolled naked into the bed. She was too keyed up to sleep. She rolled onto her stomach and thrust against the ridge of her hand until pleasure spiraled tight within her. She moaned into the pillow, suddenly boneless as release hit her, and drifted into sleep.

+ + +

The rest of their investigation yielded nothing. They dutifully went in each day to work with local law enforcement. They searched a few other areas of the lake. The deputies made Scully wear a life jacket, but there weren’t any other mysterious waves. They followed leads to dead ends. Wherever the women were, they weren’t using credit cards. Cassy Miller’s car was found a few miles away. It wasn’t far from a bus station, Scully noted, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Subsequent trips to the lake produced no evidence of a lake monster or any foul play. No bodies. No torn clothes.

“We’ll keep following up,” Mulder assured the chief of police. “I’ve added their names to our list. If anyone turns up matching their descriptions, we’ll let you know.”

“I appreciate your help.” Chief Hughes shook their hands.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help more,” Scully told her.

“We’re grateful anyone showed up,” Chief Hughes said. “Not a lot of feds would care about our small-town problems. But two of our own disappear, that’s something we feel here. Like a missing tooth.”

Mulder looked away. Scully clasped Chief Hughes’ hand. “We won’t stop looking.”

Chief Hughes’ smile was watery. “Neither will we.”

+ + +

“I thought the breakfast at the B&B was excellent,” Mulder said as they walked to their gate at the airport. “Those scones were homemade.”

“The beds were also excellent.” Scully glanced up at him. “At least, mine was. I can’t speak to the quality of any other accommodations.”

“I’d stay there again,” he said. “Recreationally.”

“Oh? Are you seeing someone?”

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the passageway. She stopped too and looked at him curiously. He took her face between his hands and kissed her. It was profound. It was passionate. It was making her weak in the knees in the middle of a fucking airport. She put her hands on his waist to steady herself.

“It wasn’t because this is a secret, Scully,” he said. “I’d get your name tattooed in five inch letters on my ass tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I know. The work matters. It was just weird not to be on the same page.”

“It was,” he agreed. His eyes searched her face and he smiled at whatever he saw there. “Should we go home?”

“Are you conferring with me in a professional context, Agent Mulder?”

He shook his head, the smile turning into a grin. “I’m not interested in your professional opinion at this time, Agent Scully.”

“Then yes, we should go home.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked and she leaned into him.

+ + +

In the DC airport, Scully caught a glimpse of curly hair and a familiar profile. “Naomi,” she said quietly to herself, and then louder. “Naomi!”

The woman turned, blanched, tried to push through a crowd. Scully swore. It was the suits. It was always the suits. Scully pursued, Mulder at her heels.

“Naomi! You’re not in trouble. We just want to talk.”

Naomi turned at last, eyes bright but her chin held high. She was clutching the hand of a blonde woman Scully had seen in a dozen photographs.

“Naomi Diaz,” Mulder drawled. “Cassy Miller.”

“How do you know our names?” Naomi demanded.

“We’ve been looking for you.” Scully showed them her badge. “Police Chief Hughes called the Bureau to follow up on a missing persons report.”

“And here you are, remarkably unmissing,” Mulder said. He was enjoying himself too much for someone who had been completely wrong, Scully thought.

“We shouldn’t have left the way we did,” Naomi said. Her mouth trembled. “I know that. But we couldn’t stay.”

“Why not?” Scully asked, and then looked again at the women’s clasped hands and understood.

Cassy stepped in front of Naomi without letting go. “It’s a small town, ma’am. Everybody knows everybody there. The kids at my store, I watched them grow up. I babysat half of them. Their parents are the older siblings of the kids I went to high school with. If I changed shampoo brands, the whole town would know by the end of the week.”

“I see.” Scully put her hands in her pockets. A week looking for two women and no one had mentioned they were lovers. The picture drew itself.

“I have loved this woman for a decade and everyone pretends they don’t know that,” Cassy said fiercely. “They just look right past me. It’s almost worse than if they were hateful.”

“It was like we were already dead,” Naomi put in. “We can’t get married. Landlords kept losing our application when we tried to get an apartment together. So it seemed easy. Everybody knows that people get drunk and stupid on the lake and nobody ever sees them again.”

“We read the reports,” Mulder told them. “Nobody in that town thought either of you would be drunk or stupid.”

“It was better than staying,” Cassy said in a firm voice. “Now we can start over. We can have a life that’s real. I’m thirty-two years old. I can’t spend the rest of my life playing pretend. Not about her.”

“They think you were eaten by the lake monster,” Scully told them.

Cassy laughed. “Champ? That’s just a legend.”

“No, it’s not,” Naomi muttered.

Scully exchanged a look with Mulder. “Regardless,” Scully said smoothly, “I think in this case, we can file a report saying that all evidence was inconclusive.” She paused. “Being eaten by a lake monster isn’t the worst way to go.”

Mulder was scribbling on a piece of paper. He passed it to Cassy. “Go to this address. The attendant in the Metro can show you the best stop. Tell them Mulder sent you. They’re weird guys, but they’ll help you.”

“And that’s it?” Naomi asked. “You’re not going to turn us in?”

“Leaving town isn’t a crime,” Scully told her. She started to turn away, and then turned back. “This may sound strange but…it’s never too late to start living the life you want. For what it’s worth, I think you’re both brave.”

“Thank you,” Cassy said.

Scully nodded and walked away with Mulder at her shoulder. They were quiet as they picked up their backs at the luggage carousel. She said nothing as they got into Mulder’s car. She waited until they had exited the airport road and merged onto the highway.

“Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“I told you so.”

+ + +

He parked in front of her apartment and carried her bag in for her. “What a gentleman,” she started to say, but before she could get the words out, he was pressing her into the door, his hot mouth descending on hers. She tugged at his lip with her teeth and then surrendered, opening her mouth to the insistent slide of his tongue. Their hands tangled trying to get to each other’s buttons. But finally, fucking finally, his hands were on her bare tits and she was digging her nails into his back. She could feel his erection against her belly. She cupped it with her palm and he groaned.

“Fuck, Scully.”

She dragged his head down and nipped at his ear. “Time to put your money where your very active mouth is, Mulder.”

“Anything you want,” he promised.

“Tease me,” she said. “Worship me.”

He pressed his body into hers, fumbling at the closure of her skirt. After a moment he gave up and just pushed it over her hips. His hands ghosted over her skin, barely touching, until her nerves crackled and fizzed like a plasma globe. By the time his thumb traced up the damp gusset of her underwear, she was almost panting.

“What do you want, Scully?” he whispered, his tongue flicking at the shell of her ear.

“I want to give it to you,” she gasped. His hips jolted against her and she moaned.

He bit gently at her shoulder. “I’m confused but very turned on.” His thumb grazed her underwear again and she arched into the touch for a moment. It was difficult to wriggle out from between his body and the door, but she had the fuel of a week’s worth of frustration. He followed her, shedding his pants as they slid off his hips.

She dragged her suitcase into the bedroom and tipped it onto the floor. She unzipped it and pulled out a bundle of straps wrapped around a slender purple dildo.

“That was in your suitcase the whole time?” he said from the doorway.

“I thought it was a different kind of trip,” she told him. She shook out the straps; they resolved into a harness. The dildo fit neatly into it. She’d practiced assembling it. There was no fumbling here. She shed her skirt but didn’t bother with her underwear, stepping into the harness and buckling it tight.

“I thought you were going to be the one begging,” he said, sauntering closer. “Looks like you’ve turned the tables on me again.”

“Say ‘please’,” she told him.

He knelt in front of her, gazing up her body. As she looked down at him, he lapped slowly at the head of the dildo. She shuddered at the way his eyes closed in pleasure. He opened them again and stared up at her. “Please.”

“Clothes off. Get on the bed.” She ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He caught it when she tossed it and spread it under his hips. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not in a while,” he admitted. “I didn’t know if you’d be into it.”

“It’s got more reach than my fingers,” she said. “And honestly, Mulder, I’ve wanted to fuck you speechless for years.”

“Is that a challenge?” His eyes gleamed.

“It’s a promise,” she said, pulling a latex glove out of her suitcase and snapping it on.

She took her time preparing him. A single finger up his ass in the heat of passion was different from the dildo, even if it was the smallest of the set she’d bought. He lay on his belly on the bed. She knelt between his legs, pushing his thighs wide with her knees. The marks of her nails were pink half-moons up and down his back. She liked seeing them: proof he was hers.

She worked him open slowly, slicking him with lube until he was dripping, rubbing her fingers up and down and up and down between his ass cheeks. One finger, slow and steady. Her pussy throbbed under the base of the dildo, aching for him. Two fingers and he was groaning, lifting his hips toward her. Three fingers - that was probably the same girth as the dildo, and he rocked against her eagerly.

“Are you ready?”

“God, Scully, please.”

“Turn over,” she commanded. “I want to watch you while I fuck you.”

He flipped himself over with a surprising amount of grace. She gestured and he tossed her one of the pillows. She dragged the towel over it and helped him wedge it under his hips. He looked so vulnerable like this, splayed out before her. His cock banged his belly and she couldn’t resist dragging her tongue up it to taste the salt. Her thumb stroked the tender skin under his balls, sliding back and back to push inside him. More lube. More pressure at his entrance. She circled it with her thumb, slicked the dildo with yet more lube, let the head of it rest against him.

“Scully, please,” he said in an urgent hush.

“Please what?”

“Pretty please,” he said. “Pretty please, please fuck me.”

She checked her watch. “It’s only 4:58 p.m., Mulder. Are you sure we’re off the clock?”

“Please,” he said. “I swear we’ll talk about it next time we take a case that looks like a vacation.”

“In that case,” she said, and pushed into him oh so slowly. He took the toy an inch at a time. She would have sworn his eyes got greener the deeper she pushed. He made a noise like she’d touched his soul. When she started to pull out, he whimpered. The naked need on his face floored her.

“I’m not done,” she assured him, and thrust again. Fuck, it was hard not to just snap her hips into his. She wanted to fuck him rough. Maybe once he had graduated to something bigger, she’d bend him over her couch. Maybe she’d pull out her most indulgent dildo, the one that was almost too big, and let him gag on it. Not tonight, but maybe if he pulled a stunt like that again.

For now she fucked him slowly. The base of the dildo ground against her pubis, not quite the contact she needed, but good. And his face while she fucked him, God - she could have come just from the way he looked at her.

“Enough,” he gasped when she was so on edge she was gritting her teeth to keep going. “Fuck, Scully, enough.”

She pulled out of him and he reached for her and dragged her up the bed. He undid the buckles on one side of the harness and she undid the other side and the straps fell away. She tossed the dildo to one side. And then she was straddling him and his beautiful fucking cock was pressing against her and how was she already this goddamn close? She was seeing stars and he’d barely touched her yet.

Mulder wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it against the wet cotton that separated her skin from his. She reached down and pushed it aside and moaned. His shaft slid between her folds. Fuck, yes, that was what she’d needed. She wasn’t waiting any longer. She cupped her hand over his and used her other hand to pull her underwear away and then she was sinking down onto his cock.

“Not yet,” he said. His hands grabbed her hips, urging her higher until she was sitting on his face. Her underwear had slipped back into place, but that didn’t seem to bother Mulder. He licked at her through the fabric, lips and tongue working together. The cotton blunted the edges of his teeth when he scraped them over her clit. She moaned, a high urgent sound, and he pulled her down hard and sucked her clit until she saw stars.

“Mulder, yes,” she was saying, over and over. Her legs shook. He lessened the pressure, then swirled his tongue in rapid circles until she was coming again, grabbing at the headboard. He slid out from under her and pressed up against her back, his big hands on her tits, thumbing at her nipples until she was almost coming again. She turned her head to kiss him hungrily as his fingers slipped lower, spreading her folds so that he could push two fingers inside her. His thumb circled her clit and she came again, a warm wave of pleasure that surprised her.

“I think these need to come off,” he said, and helped her wriggle out of her panties.

“Now will you fuck me?” she panted.

“However many orgasms that was wasn’t enough for you?” He grinned.

“It’s different,” she said. “It was good - it was fantastic - but I need you inside me, Mulder.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. He surged up behind her again, nudging her knees apart roughly, and pushed into her, filling her pussy in a way that immediately soothed the ache inside her and made it worse all at the same time. His arm locked over her shoulders as he heaved up into her, holding her in place on his cock. She whimpered and sank her teeth into the corded muscle of his forearm. She was clinging to the bars of her headboard. The motion of his hips rocked her up and down. His other hand was braced next to hers, his fingers curling over her fist. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Fuck, she loved him.

The pressure of him inside her made her desperate. She freed one hand, touched herself with trembling fingers. She was coming undone, again, her muscles clutching around him. He moaned and pulled out of her. She cried out in protest, still shuddering, but he put his back against the headboard and hauled into his lap, thrusting up into her like he’d never stopped. She braced her knees wide and took him as deep as she could, grinding against him. His thighs were tensing under hers. She was amazed he hadn’t come yet, and grateful, and determined.

“I want you to come inside me,” she whispered, and his whole body shivered. “I’ve been so good, Mulder, please.”

He bent forward and took her nipples into his mouth, first one, then the other, his mouth hot and desperate. She kissed his forehead, scraping her fingers through his hair as he squeezed her tits. And there, so unexpected, another orgasm building inside her. She rubbed herself against him in a frenzy. She’d never come this many times in a row, with a partner or a toy, but a week’s tension had wound her tight.

“I’m close,” he warned her. He rubbed his cheek over her nipple and the friction of his stubble made her gasp. “Scully.”

“I’m coming,” she said, and it was true. Sparks burst behind her eyelids and he held her hips down and pounded up into her and she could feel him inside her, the wet heat of his pleasure. It seemed to last forever as he surged into her and then finally, finally, she was back in her body, wrapped in his arms. When he eventually pulled out of her, it felt like a loss.

“I want to lick you clean,” he said. His voice was shaking.

“Next time,” she promised, wincing just a little. She was too sensitive everywhere, but it had been worth it. Fuck, it had all been worth it. They eased down together. Mulder flopped on his belly, ass in the air.

“Did I make it up to you?” he asked.

“I believe I got the rewards I was promised,” she said.

“If I’d known you’d brought your own equipment, I don’t think my conscience would have won,” he told her. “It was hard enough seeing you in that bath, all flushed and damp.”

She patted his ass. “You took it like a champ.”

He huffed a laugh into the crumpled sheets. “I would have absolutely bought a novelty t-shirt that said that.”

“I know,” she said.

He pushed up on one elbow and gazed at her. “And you would have stolen it to wear to bed.”

“With no underwear underneath,” she agreed.

He swore under his breath. “We could go back.”

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she suggested. “I don’t want you getting distracted by the local legends. Do you think I can find you a t-shirt that says ‘Rode Hard And Put Away Wet’?”

“We’ll have to get matching ones,” he said.

“We can do that.” She smiled at him. “You can wear it to work.”

“I think that would leave Skinner with some questions.”

She shook her head, yawning. “I think that would answer most of his questions.”

“You’re probably right,” he said.

“Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“I changed my mind,” she told him. “Lick me clean.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and settled between her legs like it was his job. His mouth was gentle on her tender skin. His eyes were closed like he was praying. She pushed her hands through his hair and let herself drift into a dream of a life where they could do this anytime they wanted, forever and ever, amen.

[thefirsthogokage]

This is not a holy war. Do not let israel convince you it is.

This is a slaughtering of innocent Palestinian Muslims, Jews, and Christians that have nothing to do with Hamas' attack by a falsely installed government that calls Palestinians "human animals".

Although the killing of innocents from both the israeli government and hamas is wrong, this has been building for a long time due to the israeli government's treatment of Palestinians.

The rage that brings these attacks stems from DECADES of abuse, displacement, murder, and more that israel has inflicted upon the Palestinians.

Israel justifying what they've done calling themselves a "Jewish state" when NONE of these actions are REMOTELY Jewish puts a target on the backs of actual Jews. Israel itself, by committing horrible atrocities in the name of a Jewish holy war is antisemitic, and breeds antisemitism against actual Jews.

It is not antisemitic to be against the israeli government.

What is antisemitic is the israeli government labeling itself and it's actions as Jewish.

Supporting the oppressed? That's Judaism.

Supporting Palestinians being free? That's Judaism.

While the actions of Hamas are not justifiable, neither are the actions of israel. However, the rage that has been building against the oppressive israeli government by the members of Hamas? I get that.

And before anyone comes at me, again: I am not justifying the actions, the rapes* the child murders, the kidnappings, the beheadings*, the bombings. I am saying I understand the rage of an oppressed people boiling over and attacking the oppressors. And in the same vein, I will never justify the actions of the israeli government and their murder, and starvation, and destruction of medical facilities, displacement, confinement and terrorist attacks against the people they oppress and hold captive and have complete control over.

*No Rape and beheading has been over 20 days later. What I believe has been proven that hasn't gotten much media attention is that Israel lied about the body count and who killed all of the people, there are many reports from eyewitnesses that IDF soldiers killed israelis.

[thatsnotmygunflash]

“Panic erupted at Central City Hall after unknown gunmen kidnapped Congressman Leonard Snart in broad daylight during his 'Metas are Human' rally. Eyewitnesses to the attack say three of Snart's security guards were killed in their efforts to protect the Congressman and four more were injured. Authorities say they are putting in every effort to recover the Congressman, working around the clock to bring him home safely. If anyone has any information regarding—”

“Hey man, are you watching the news?” Barry didn't bother with a hello when he heard the call connected, his eyes still glued to the footage of the kidnapping replaying on the TV screen. It was the first time since being back in Central that he'd felt the familiar course of adrenaline start to build in his blood. His feet were already vibrating just thinking about running head-first into a new mission. This was a problem he could solve as easily as making a run to the grocery store. He might not be in the military anymore and his whole team may be suspended from using their powers on US soil until the investigation is over, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to let that stop him from saving not only his personal hero but the Congressman leading the fight for metahuman rights. If Leonard Snart died, metahumans wouldn’t stand a chance against the discrimination and dehumanization they were up against in Congress. 

“Yeah, crazy right? Can't believe they got the drop on Captain Cold.” Cisco replied readily, the echoing broadcast accompanying his voice. “I mean, we've all heard the stories from General Lance.” 

Leonard Snart hadn’t always been a Congressman, of course. He was the beloved Mayor of Central City before that, and a decorated police officer briefly after being honorably discharged from the military due to an injury in the field. Leonard Snart was the only human to ever Captain the same covert metahuman team Barry had helped lead for the past five years. The original Rogues were legendary, especially their human leader. He may have only been human, but Snart had a genius-level intellect and was an expert tactician, not to mention an exceptional marksman and a bit of a kleptomaniac at the most convenient of times. Captain Cold was a decorated hero who helped turn the Rouges into the military's best secret weapon. The motivational stories that Sara had told them during training and the old missions she would drill them on had fueled Barry's endless quest to be the best operative he could be. Chasing Captain Cold's legacy like it was critical to his career, right up to the point of obsession. It had helped him rank up quickly, religiously studying Snart's tactical strategies, missions, and reports. Barry learned from his mistakes before he could even make them most of the time thanks to Snart’s detailed mission logs and his additional references to counter scenarios that would have been successful. Barry was the man he is today because of Leonard Snart–his hero, his teacher, and his inspiration. He couldn’t stand back on the sidelines and hope someone else was going to put a plan together and save Snart.

He had to do something. 

“Yeah, they would have just shot him in the street if they wanted him dead,” Barry theorized, finally giving in to the restlessness running through his body and taking off into a sprint, barely being able to enjoy the exhilarating feeling of running again before he was across town and right into the middle of Cisco’s underground workshop. “The kidnappers must want something else, but that doesn't mean they won't kill him when they get it.” 

“Is this you trying to ask me to look into where they’re keeping him?” Cisco questioned with a surprised eyebrow raised as he took the phone away from his ear and set it down near the gutted metal tube spilling over with wires sitting in front of the scientist, along with an array of tools and loose equipment. If Barry wasn’t mistaken it was one of Hartley’s sonic grenades he was tinkering with. The same sonic grenades the Miltary had confiscated. Barry knew he couldn't have been the only one going stir-crazy since being discharged, but Cisco had been smart enough not to inform the government about his ability to breach, allowing him easy access to anything he wanted, from this world or another. Cisco always had to be doing something with his hands, anything to keep him busy and his ideas flowing. It was a trait Barry had always admired about his best friend, especially right now.

“Maybe? I don't know. I feel like I should do something, he could die,” Barry replied warily, running a hand through his hair as he considered what would happen if he didn't get involved. “The guys who grabbed him have to be professionals, there's no way of knowing what they'll do if SWAT gets involved. I'm thinking if you can pin down his location I can be in and out with Snart before you finish telling me the address.” 

“I'll let Frosty and Cait know what's up while I track him down, have them set up the med room for him just in case.” Cisco was already abandoning his workbench and moving towards his computer as he spoke, typing out a message to the girls on his phone while he booted up his PC. “Want me to contact his team and let them in on the plan?”

“After. I don't want to take the chance if this is an inside job. I want Snart safe before we bring outsiders in on this.” Barry responded, knowing in his gut that the only thing they could afford to worry about right now was making sure Snart made it out of this alive. 

“Yeah good call, can't have the man spearheading the ‘Metas are Human' movement dying before he can get the bill passed.” Cisco agreed with an approving nod, fingers dancing over the keyboard as he pulled up the satellite footage of the kidnapping. 

“Exactly. He's our only chance at keeping our civil rights, Cisco, we gotta save him.” He didn't mention he was their only chance of getting the team back together and their dishonorable discharges dropped. Lance still kept in contact with them all even if it was dangerous for her own career to be mixed up with their disgraced team at such an uneasy time like this. She had risked it though to tell them she had talked to Snart about their situation and he had vowed to do what he could to get them all reinstated and the investigation handled by an unbiased party. 

“I know man, I'm tracking them through CCTV cameras right now, shouldn't be much longer. You should suit up.” Cisco suggested, pressing a button on a small remote while nodding towards the now moving back wall where he kept the team’s secret emergency gear stashed. It seemed like Cisco was keeping a lot of secrets from the government down here. 

“Red or black?” Barry asked the scientist, trying not to get caught up in the nostalgia of seeing his team's suits lined up and on display again. It had only been three months since the team was disbanded but it felt like years to him. This felt like coming home, much more than arriving at Central City airport after 12 years away had. 

“Black. Should probably keep this one stealthy.” Cisco replied, turning his head to the side to meet Barry's eye. “Are we playing this like Karmana or Kota Baharu?” 

“Moscow,” Barry said with a soft hum, trembling fingers reaching for the reinforced tripolymer fabric waiting for him. It really had been too long, the anticipation was almost too much for him to handle. He's missed the comfort of his super suit. Of his team. His life. God, everything had gone to such shit so quickly that he never even got to prepare himself for never suiting up and leading a mission again. It had been stripped from him just like his team, his rank, and his reputation had. 

“Oh really?” Cisco curved his surprise quickly, his worry pushing forward instead. “You think he'll remember the call sign?” 

“He'll remember,” Barry replied confidently, not wasting another second and flashing into his suit. It was even better than he remembered, like a missing limb growing back, or maybe he had missed his old life more than he cared to admit. Now, he felt safe and powerful and needed. Three things that had been severely lacking in his life since being discharged.

“Let's hope you're right,” Cisco muttered before glancing down at his phone and smirking in triumph. “I've got the location and Cait is almost ready. It's showtime, Lieutenant Flash.” 

“Don't call me that man. I'm not your lieutenant anymore.” Barry said with a shake of his head, brushing off Cisco's quick reply. 

“The government may have royally fucked us all over and disbanded the team, but that doesn't mean I lost respect for the rank you earned dude.”

“Whatever, can you just give me the address please? We have a Congressman to save.” Barry pulled his cowl up, letting it settle into place and feeling his shoulders drop down, all the tension he was carrying leaving him at once. There was no better feeling than using his powers to save someone, and now after months of moping around his shoebox apartment and his mind-numbing third-shift security gig, having to refrain from using his speed, he was going to get to use it to save Leonard Snart. He knew the ‘Oh shit, I’m going to meet Leonard Snart!’ freak out he would no doubt have later would be embarrassing and long, but it would mean Snart would be alive and that was more than enough for Barry to look forward to making a fool of himself in the future.  

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Cisco winced at the latest text that popped up, shooting Barry a constipated smile. “Hopefully he's like really grateful you’re risking it all right now to save his ass and can keep you from getting arrested for doing it. Frost says they know you're active. APB is about to go out. Waller is pissed.” 

“Better make this good then, I'm too pretty for prison.” Barry couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face as Cisco finally rattled off the address to him, offering him a lazy salute that a year ago would have gotten him kitchen duty for two weeks. Now it just earned him a good-natured laugh.  

“Good luck, Lieutenant,” Cisco said with an encouraging pat on the back, letting out a small laugh to himself when Barry took off just as quickly as he had appeared. “Something tells me you're going to need it.”

[acti-veg]

I agree Israel is committing war crimes, but is that the same as genocide?

I don’t think that their actions can be justified, but how can we know for sure that genocide is their aim?

If Hamas are deliberately positioning themselves near civilians, and retreat to a network of tunnels, how do we know Israel aren’t genuinely trying to target Hamas (and showing indifference to the lives of Palestinian civilians, rather than actively targeting them)?

You can never know for certain what anyone else’s intention is, nobody ever says they are aiming to carry out a genocide. But we can reasonably judge what their intentions are by observing their actions, and Israel has been crystal clear with us in that regard.

Israel have been claiming the use of human shields for decades, and even if true; they clearly use it as a convenient smokescreen. Nobody can say for sure since Israel continue to restrict and allegedly target journalists, but Amnesty International investigated the claim back in 2016 and found no evidence for it. Israel has never been able to supply sufficient evidence to prove this in court. That doesn’t mean it isn’t happening now though, and there have allegedly been some eyewitness reports that point to them doing so, at least in places. Amnesty point out:

We’re monitoring and investigating these claims but we don’t have evidence of this during the current hostilities. In previous conflicts, we have documented that Palestinian armed groups have stored munitions in and fired indiscriminate rockets from residential areas, which is in violation of international humanitarian law.

During the current hostilities, Hamas spokespeople have reportedly urged residents in some areas of Gaza not to leave their homes after the Israeli military warned people in the area to evacuate.

However, the lack of clarity from Israel on safe routes for evacuation, the lack of shelters, and numerous reports of civilians who did heed the warnings and flee doing so under Israeli fire, such statements by Hamas officials could have been motivated by a desire to avoid further panic.

International humanitarian law is clear – even if they did direct civilians to remain in a specific location in order to shield military objectives, Israel’s obligations to protect these civilians would still apply.

Even if Hamas are using civilians as human shields, civilians are entitled to protection regardless. Here is a good excerpt on this:

Marc Weller, chair of international law and international constitutional studies at the University of Cambridge, said that if 1,000 people were sheltering at a site that was proven to hide a Hamas presence, Israel would have to send soldiers in to only hit the enemy assets (principle of distinction). If it instead opted to bomb the compound from the air, it must be able to prove the existence of enemy assets and to argue that the “incidental” loss of life was proportionate to the military advantage gained (principle of proportionality).

Issuing an evacuation order to 1.1 million people and then considering an entire population as a legitimate target also contravenes the same principles. “Knocking on a building [to ask its residents to evacuate] may be reasonable, but telling a million people that they all have to get out because you are bombing everything is unreasonable,” the Cambridge professor told Al Jazeera.

“Israel cannot discharge its obligation of distinction by wishing the civilians away. This places the burden of protection on victims, rather than attackers.”

We can also look at what the judges who have seen more evidence than we have had to say, another excerpt here:

The ICJ ruling refers to the possibility of genocide without using the word. But it does quote the Genocide Convention directly, stating that ‘Israel must immediately halt its military offensive, and any other action in the Rafah Governorate, which may inflict on the Palestinian group in Gaza conditions of life that could bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part’. This was supported by 13 of the judges. Only two opposed it, including the former president of Israel’s Supreme Court, Aharon Barak.

The ICJ ruling states that Israel must actively ensure that in any Rafah operation the lives and basic needs of civilians are protected. The court stated that 800,000 Gazans have been displaced several times before and have already fled Rafah fearing for their lives; that many of these were responding to the IDF’s ‘encouragement’ to do so; and that most of them are living in inhuman conditions lacking access to food, water, sanitation, medical services and in most cases proper shelter.

Even if you don’t believe Israel are actively trying to commit a genocide, the conditions in Gaza are such that they could lead to the destruction of the Palestinian people in part or in whole - that is genocide, and it is deliberate because Israel have intentionally and knowingly created these conditions, ostensibly as a way to fight Hamas. What Hamas are or are not doing is ultimately irrelevant for the protections Palestinian non-combatants are entitled to, which make up the majority of those killed by the IOF.

Even if every claim about Hamas building ‘terror tunnels’ underneath hospitals and using civilians as shields are all true, even if they are committing every war crime Israel says they are, the collective punishment of the Palestinian people for the actions of Hamas are a war crime. A genocide is being carried out, regardless of the reasons for it.

The ICJ are right to tell Israel they must halt the offensive and are right to issue a warrant for not only Hamas leadership, but Netanyahu and Defence Minister Gallant as well.

[noseysilverfox]

In the ancient and boundless forest, day after day, the little spider collects morning dew in its web. With the first rays of the sun, it turns into a scattering of crystals. Everyone who finds this sacrament will receive a gift. The spider never offends travelers and always pours crystals into a bag.

However, if a traveler behaved in a hostile way in the forest and caused harm, then at home his gift turned back into water. The good man still had a scattering of gems. Some eyewitnesses claim that the spider gift brings good luck in all cases. Here is such a small miracle✨️🕷🕸🌿✨️

В старинном и бескрайнем лесу день за днем паучок собирает утреннюю росу в свою паутину. С первыми лучами солнца она превращается в россыпь кристаллов. Каждый, кто застанет данное таинство, получит подарок. Паук никогда не обижает путников и всегда высыпает кристаллы в мешочек.

Однако, если путник вёл себя в лесу враждебно и причинял вред, то дома его подарок вновь превращался в воду. У хорошего человека оставалась россыпь самоцветов. Некоторые очевидцы уверяют, что паучиный подарок приносит удачу во всех делах. Вот такое маленькое чудо✨️🕷🕸🌿✨️

[unnervinglyferal]

My old friend and ex-roommate came over yesterday. Neither of them is scared of new people but they were both awkward at first. My old roommate hadn't been to the apartment since the group home folks had helped us move, and he had never met my daughter. His first words at the sight of her were "oh fuck it's alive." My girlfriend's great-grandma asked them whether they'd like to hold the baby, but both the two of them and Bug looked at each other in a way that made it clear that none of them want that. They don't want to hold a baby and Stinkbug didn't want to be held by them either.

After a while of chatting while standing around the apartment, my old roommate admitted with some embarrassment that he had completely misread the nature of this visit and had a backpack full of beers for this. My girlfriend immediately informed them that if we're going to drink, we'd better be doing that outside. The family matriarch agreed, it's a nice weather out there. I told them both that I'm not going to drink, though it's all fine if they will. My old friend offered to go pick me a case of something else to drink if I'd like. Diet coke would be fine - that's enough of a rare treat.

So we sat outside on the yard bench swing and talked, catching up on what both of them are doing now and sharing stories of what my time before the group home had been with my old friend, and how times at the group home were with my old roommate. I think it was good to have them both here at the same table - I don't think either one would have believed a half of the other side's stories without an eyewitness to back it up.

I didn't smoke but out of old habit I rolled cigarettes for them - my old friend had a pack of factory smokes but hand-rolled ones are still cheaper, I needed something to occupy my hands, and he promised to pay my roommate back for the tobacco he smoked. It's pretty clear that despite of being a student he's currently the one of us who has the most money.

It was a nice, warm evening and as it went down, my friend and old roommate had pretty much gone through my old roommate's beers, when my friend mentioned that he actually also has some weed. I told them they're free to smoke it somewhere else but they are absolutely fucking not doing anything that will summon cops on the front yard of the house where my family is sleeping. My old friend was baffled that he'd ever live to hear me say shit like that, but the way he laughed sounded like he's proud.

It was around 9 pm by then, the two of them were out of beers, and it was starting to get cool outside, so we agreed it was best to call it a night while we were still all having a good time. My old friend and ex-roommate had found a lot in common with each other and agreed to carry on to a bar somewhere, and maybe smoke that weed. My old friend mentioned that he knows a guy who gives rides around here for a little fee, who might be on call tonight. My ex-roommate said he knows one as well, and for shits and giggles they decided to text their own car guy at the same time and see which one responds first.

Within the same minute, they both got a text - almost identical one - asking if they'd be down to share a ride with someone else who's around the same area. It turns out they knew the same damn guy. I sat with them until their ride showed up - I had never seen this guy before, myself - and headed inside.

I put all the clothes I had on straight to the wash before taking a shower and going to bed next to my girlfriend. She asked me if I'm sober and asked if we had fun, and was back asleep before I could answer the second question. My skin and hair still smell like cigarette smoke, but I can do my best to not bring that outside world in here. My friends are out there in it, but I'm not bringing it home to my family. Their life is out there, mine is in here.

[landofadonises]

NG-AD0372 Transformations - Eyewitness Testimonies, I

The biotechnician placed a notepad and a pen down on the cold, steel table, taking a seat across from a hesitant soldier fidgeting in his seat. As he adjusts himself and looks toward the soldier expectantly, the soldier takes a swig of water from the glass on the table and speaks up, stuttering. "Doc, you promise that doin' this for ya will get me my dose sooner? Y'know it's crazy weird to talk about this stuff... it gets me thinkin' all... I don't know..."

The scientist smiles knowingly, chuckling momentarily at the soldier's hesitation. "Don't worry, boy. Get to explaining. You're one of the first that were there to see your work partner change before your eyes. We want all the nuance, and believe us when we say we'll compensate you for your... efforts."

The soldier has a smile flutter across his face, but it fades as he gets to thinking about the topic at hand, squirming in his seat for a bit as he adjusts the crotch of his pants. He takes another gulp of water to soothe his parched throat.

"Well... everything was going normal, just cleaning the gym equipment with Mateo like normal, and I guess he picked up a pretty heavy weight to rack it, and I heard him... breathe a certain way when he felt it. He racked it but kept flexing his arms, and it was so weird... his sleeves were tightening like crazy, and he just kept getting, like, overstimulated? Like, his head kept knocking back and his eyelids were flutterin' and shit, mouth open, like he was tryna figure out what to do..." The soldier shifts in his seat more, the tightness in his crotch distracting his recounting of events.

"Then, all of a sudden, I saw some crazy veins poppin' out on the back of his hands, and he just grabbed his shirt and ripped off the sleeves in one clean rip, strong as hell... and the fuckin' pythons on him all of a sudden, so damn sweaty, hairy... and he just looked so unsatisfied, pouty, moany... I just had to help him..."

"Doc, you don't get it... the way that that sweat was shinin' on his skin... the musky smell, and how he just looked so damn pitiful... I went up and smacked a kiss on his lips and he moaned into my mouth... and... and..." The soldier trails off as he bites his lip as he recalls the events, in inner turmoil about how he reacted in the moment and how much he enjoyed it, never being able to properly shift his junk in his pants to bring some relief, so constricting...

"Well, soldier, that about does it. This was incredibly helpful to hear about how the soldiers react when the effects kick in." The scientist rises to his full stature and stares at the soldier across from him as the soldier continues to squirm, losing awareness of the situation around him. "You'll have a firsthand account of your experiences once you return to lucidity soon enough."

The soldier looks up at the scientist. "W--whuh? What? S-so soon...? I thought... evals..." His sentence is interrupted by a moan escaping his lips as his shaft competes for space in his pants, zipper threatening to burst open. He looks down as his double-sized turgid cock snaps open the zipper and latch, revealing a heavy set and swelling balls, the sudden relief and rush of air causing him to release an even louder moan.

The scientist chuckles as he grabs the soldier's jaw and directs his view to the near-empty glass of water on the table, the scientist tapping the rim and flicking it, causing the bit of remaining water to pool onto the table. The soldier, now understanding, falls into a euphoric state, ignoring everything around him, as the scientist walks out of the room and informs the attendant to lock the room as the situation plays out.

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

FAQ and frequent hate anons& comments

I keep getting the same messages/anons since some of my posts are doing well… I am writing and pinning this post to answer these.

Who am I? I’m 22, a Jewish and Israeli queer woman.

No, I don’t condone the death of Palestinians.

-I can hold a place in my heart for the suffering of other people, of “the other side” of the conflict. Obviously I do not wish for the death of anyone. I wish for a peaceful future for all sides.

I just happen to be Israeli and Jewish.

“You’re ignoring the death of Palestinians”

*Once again, I’m not trying to deny any of the suffering of the Palestinians. I am simply trying to bring up awareness of what us Israelis are going through. *

I’m trying to debunk the misinformation and dehumanising rhetoric towards Israelis/ Jews on this site, By telling my story and presenting more reliable information and sources.

“You’re privileged, you’re whining about x while people in Gaza are dying”

News flash,people in Israel die as well.

And HOW THE HELL AM I PRIVILEGED WHEN People from my city were murdered or kidnapped by terrorists???

My city is constantly under rocket fire. Unlike what some people comment under my posts -I am not deluded or privileged.

Wanting to live peacefully is not a privilege. And while I’m describing how war and terror affects my life I am not whining.

How hateful and hypocritical do you have to be in order to tell that to a stranger? The anons and comments I receive shock me every single time .

What are your sources?

-some of y’all literally trust a terror organisation over Jews/ Israelis.

I was asked multiple times to cite my sources for my countries’ borders. Huh? I don’t know, reality??

“What is your proof”

Anti - Zionists and antisemites are constantly asking us for proof, while you immediately believe Hamas.

this is unbelievable considering Hamas filmed their attacks with GoPros and live-streamed it using the victims’ phones and social media accounts.

There are also: surveillance cameras footage,  forensic evidence, post-mortem analysis,eyewitness accounts, interviews and evidence provided by first responders and survivors, etc…

“You’re brainwashed/ deluded”

Maybe, but unlike most of the people who write to me, I live here.

I back all of my claims with resources and facts,and I am more than happy to provide missing information/ clarify my posts.

I’ve cared about this conflict even when it wasn’t trending. I can admit my country’s faults and strive for a better future for my people, and love it at the same time.

The fact that what I’m saying may not fit your narrative doesn’t mean it’s not happening in real life …

Ps- While this is a trend to you - it’s my daily life for me. Don’t assume you know better because you watched a tiktok or read a questionable article (these are actually all things people have said to me …).

ALL DEATH THREATS , SLURS& HATE ANONS, NAZI PROPAGANDA AND CRAZY ALLEGATIONS WILL BE DELETED AND INGONRED.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

how many video game ideas do you even have?

an incomplete list of the bajillion video game ideas I have had over the past ten years (if you want verification, @raptorcivilization is usually the schmuck I pitch to) that I can't do because I lack infrastructure and resources:

a redo of the eyewitness dinosaur hunter game for the modern era (but obviously without the eyewitness brand) - so a 3D virtual museum environment with an on-site dig that brings dinos back to life. would include the history of birds after the end-cretaceous.

a redo of the magic school bus explores the age of dinosaurs game (doesn't have to be associated with magic school bus, a cute kulinda protag will work fine) - so a point and click game where you go to different environments, learn about the history of life, play mini experiments and mini games to learn, etc.

a museum tycoon game (why the fuck doesn't this already exist) (I have an elaborate system in my head that would include ethical collection and museum reputation as important factors)

prehistoric photo safari - you go back in time to different ecosystems and take pictures of various things you're asked to take pictures of, like "a pennaraptoran preening" or "a tyrannosaur family group" that kind of thing

an aviary zootycoon/planet zoo esque game - basically you're creating a zoo but it's only birds. I'm not bitter about planet zoo, no, whose asking.

or just another zoo simulator that's a better spiritual successor to zoo tycoon than planet zoo is, so it would include aquatic and extinct stuff like the zoo tycoons always did >_> also more birds

the same idea as above but now it includes fossil/extinct birds too, you're welcome

a game where you go back in time and gather prehistoric life and bring them back to the present and try to recreate extinct ecosystems, with an emphasis on ecosystem dynamics

similarly, an ecosystem simulator like tyto-ecology except... better. and still being developed. and mostly focused on extinct ecosystems.

a stardew-style farming game but you're ravens in a post-human world, creating a new society from scratch. as birds.

a bajillion different @saurian-game - like games set in different environments including the Manda Beds of the Triassic, the Jiufotang Formation of the Jurassic, literally anything other than the red beds of the Permian, Fossil Lake in the Eocene... the list goes on

domesticated Kulindadromeus sheephearder game (@paleopinesofficial you can just steal this idea and put it in your game, that's fine)

fossil stories - basically you live the life of different extinct animals based on their fossils, so dueling/fighting dinosaurs and stuff like that. it would be your basic choose your own adventure story type dealio.

a dinotopia video game. that's it. that's the entire concept. maybe something like simcity or the sims but in dinotopia. there's something there.

jewish themed stardew valley (this isn't dinosaur/bird or prehistoric life related, I'm just annoyed at the christonormativity in stardew [why does xmas exist in this alternate universe] and want to make a jewish version out of spite)

pet parrot simulator. mainly so that people who love parrots but really can't care for them can play the game. also so people who are thinking of getting a parrot can play the game and find out if they really can take care of one. I recognize pet simulators exist but they're never really accurate when it comes to parrot care.

I know I have more but these are the best ones. The ones I come back to the most are the museum tycoon game, the prehistoric photo safari game, and the redo of the magic school bus dino game; and @raptorcivilization is keeping the dream alive for the remake of the eyewitness game.

[sodor-spirit]

The spirit war: ( I really have many questions)

1.Did did Alfred fight too or just use his earth statues to fight with ‘The Three Guardians Spirits’?

2. When Alfred lose his side of the war does he show up himself?

3. After Alfred torn Thomas vessel.

-Did Thomas fainted or traumatised

-When Alfred torn Thomas while Edward was standing there (Edward before he attacked Alf)

((Wow… okay first of all mysterious grey person, I’m truly sorry for how old this ask has gotten. I seriously need to get better at answering asks and managing my tumblr schedule. Second thanks for asking this particular part of my “obsolete” au since it’s one I’m don’t get to show off as often as I want.))

OKAY NOW LET’S BEGIN:

1. During most of the war, Alfred went into hiding around various parts of Sodor and made his earth statues to fight. Reason for this is because Edward, Henry and Gordon wanted to banish him to the Shadow Dimension for everything he’s done and killing Crovan.

2. Yes and no. The trio was able to track him after receiving several accounts from eyewitnesses and was managed to corner him, but Thomas found him first because he wanted to prove to the others, especially Edward that he was ready to help fight against Alfred more directly. As a result he managed to capture Thomas and hold him hostage until the trio came.

3. Thomas was poofed instantly after his gold dust form was torn apart, because he had the guts to insult Alfred despite being taken hostage. But he is definitely traumatised even after nearly a century has passed and he ended up developing a form of amnesia because of it, being unable to remember what his life was like on the Mainland, except remembering that he came from Brighton. And for your last question: Edward got corrupted and kept impaling Alfred on large ice spikes, while Gordon and Henry could only watch with horror before managing to bring the Water Spirit back to senses and banishing him forever to the Shadow Dimension. Gordon would never admit it out loud but he feels guilty for not asking Thomas about his past life on the Mainland before getting his trauma induced amnesia.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

The Modern Lovers - Boston Center for the Arts, Boston, Massachusetts, February 23, 1974

The end of the Original Modern Lovers? This might've been the band's final official gig — thanks to Jesse J for passing along a recently surfaced tape. Jesse calls the recording's quality "atrocious," and he's not wrong (though it's as much the fault of the venue's cavernous acoustics as it is the tape's). Whatever, atrocious quality audience recordings are what Doom & Gloom is all about, am I right? So adjust your ears and take a trip back to a bitter New England winter just about 50 years ago.

Historic/interesting stuff! The set sees the Modern Lovers attempting to bring together their older, more VU-inspired material with the quieter, more innocent songs that Jonathan Richman was writing. There are tunes that will certainly be familiar — "Roadrunner," "Government Center," "Pablo Picasso," etc. And then there are several strong songs that — as far as I know — don't appear anywhere else in the Modern Lovers' discography (officially or unofficially). And hey, it all works pretty well; in some alternate universe, the band might've been able to reconcile their two sides and finally record a proper debut LP. It was not to be, alas — soon, Jerry Harrison would head back to Harvard to get his master's degree in architecture. And today, he is renowned as one of the world's greatest architects ... right???

Of course, we have to note the truly bonkers lineup — a heretofore unknown alignment with the Velevet (sic) Underground and George Thorogood galaxies. Though if the description below is correct (though the source says the date was Valentine's Day), Moe Tucker didn't even get to play because of George. That's truly b-b-b-b-bad. But, as Jesse pointed out, Jonathan and Moe did make it into the studio a few days later to record their charming rendition of the VU's "I'm Sticking With You." Was Moe's band really called the Bloody Virgins?! Hmmm, further investigation is warranted.

An eyewitness account? Although the Modern Lovers broke up in 1973, they reformed in '74 (maybe late '73) with a different drummer but that didn't last long because the drummer hated Jonathan. They did at least one concert: Valentine's Day 1974. I was there early with Jonathan so I got to see all the sound checks for all three bands. Unfortunately, the idiot promoters let the mediocre opening band, George Thoroughlynogood and the Delaware Destroyers, play for one hour and 45 minutes. They should have had 25 minutes max. Thus, the Modern Lovers could only play one hour. And the second band couldn't play at all, which is very unfortunate, as it was Mo Tucker's excellent (and totally unknown) all-girl band the Bloody Virgins (but me and Jonathan got to watch their excellent 25-minute sound check). Seven or either years ago, an internet music forum was discussing Mo, and I talked about seeing that band. A noted music critic (and friend of Mo) was pissed off and said that Mo never had any such band and that I was a liar. Luckily, I still had the concert ad and uploaded a photo of it to the forum.

Ernie Brooks: At one of the last gigs we did, when we played “Roadrunner,” we still didn’t have a record out, but that was always a catchy song, and we actually got some applause—and then Jonathan said, “People like that song too much; I don’t think we should do it anymore….” I think it was just part of Jonathan’s natural inclination that when things seemed to be going well—to go against it. He was very contrary. He was very difficult. I mean, anybody who is on to something new has some element of being a contrarian, because they’re rejecting the status quo. They’re doing something in the way they’ve figured out how to do it—and they don’t want to hear something different, even if it could make things better. When Jonathan said, “I won’t play 'Roadrunner' anymore,” it was pretty much the classic case—you can’t really get any more contrarian than that.