#so it's not like i don't have enough time TECHNICALLY

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[thir10th]

clothes-emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: a slow morning with Emily when you've just started dating tw: make out, no smut, just domestic fluff w Emily A/n: i was just in the mood for a little drable, what can i say

You feel a paw lightly patting your face, the soft fur tickling your nose

"Serge, please, 5 minutes" you groan at the cat that has already set on your pillow, wrapping himself in a little black ball, you'd find it incredibly cute hadn't he just woken you up an hour before your alarm went off.

You decide it's a lost battle and move to leave him occupy your pillow, burying your face on the other one, it smells like Emily's shampoo.

The woman feels your body pressing against hers, and she turns around to meet your face, her naked body pressing against yours closer now.

Her eyes still closed, she's still half asleep but she gives you a soft peck on your lips "mh-morning" she mutters.

Her silky black hair tickles your face, but you don't move, you let it cover your forehead and you inhale the scent.

"why doesn't he wake you up? he's technically your son"

"because you spoil him too much" she twists around trying to grab part of the sheet falling off the bed due to last night's activities.

Her nose scrunches in comfort, you think it's adorable and can't help but to kiss it. She barely reacts, which makes you think she's probably still too asleep to correspond.

Last night had been your 3rd real date with Emily, the familiarity you already felt being the result of the time you had spent being "just friends" until you finally gave in on your attraction to each other. You wouldn't have it any other way.

It had been Emily's turn for last night's date, after getting back from work, she cooked, opened a bottle of wine, and you ended the night making out in the coach, and the bed, and the shower, and then the bed again. You felt exhausted in the most perfect way.

"so what, i give him a little too many him treats, he deserves them" you sigh, giving up on sleep coming back to you.

You stand up, unwrapping your body from Emily's strong grip around your waist, she whines, but ends up giving it up and wrapping herself around the pillow.

You scratch Sergio behind the ears, and move to pick up something to put on so you can go make breakfast

you grab the blue shirt that she wore yesterday, and a pair of her boxers, both were laying on the floor, scattered around along with the rest of both your clothes.

You follow the trail that was left on the corridor, you find your pants and Emily's, your bra, your shirt, all the way to the living room. You pick them up, leaving them on the couch, then following to the kitchen.

You secure your headphones in your ears and pull up a favorite playlist. Coffee percolating. Music going. You hum along and gather the ingredients you need to make pancakes, the easiest recipe you could ever memorize.

You crack the eggs carefully, making sure no shells fall into the mixture, you swing around to the music in your ears, dancing to it as you cook.

One by one, the stack of pancakes gets bigger until you run out of mix, you sip on your coffee, turning around to set the table, but when you do, you jump.

"Jesus!" Emily leans on the wall, she watches you with a grin on her face "How long have you been standing there? You almost killed me"

"just enough, are you making pancakes?" she asks, you can't help but to feel embarrassed, she says she's been there enough, which probably means she's seen all your musical number, at least most of it

"Yes, you can get this there until I'm done here" you tell her, turning around to finish up, but instead of doing what you asked, she comes around you, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"you smell so nice" she whispers, her head rests on your shoulder, she kisses you there, and on your neck, leaves a trail of small, sweet kisses along your shoulder.

Her hands caress your waist, "you’re wearing my shirt" she says, pressing her lips against your pulse point which makes you chuckle "i am" you say.

Her fingers slowly brushing the bare skin behind her boxers "and my boxers" she nibs at the soft skin on your neck, the smile on your face doesn't fade, you turn to face her, surrounding her neck with your arms

"do you mind? that- that i wear your clothes- I mean"

"no, no, of course not" her hand moves to take a couple of hair strands off your face, placing them behind your hear in a loving gesture

"in fact- you look really good in my clothes" the bright smile on her face turns into a devilish one

her lips crash against yours, lips and tongue, the wetness in her soft lips making you groan on her mouth, she swallows your sounds, her hand grabs your face, yours wrapping around her waist, gripping the flesh.

You separate you lips from hers to much of your distaste "let me just finish this ok? can you wait just a second?" you ask, but she doesn't let go off you, her hands on your waist lower to get your ass, giving a light squeeze

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Emily chuckles, the intensity of her kisses and touches increasing now, tugging you back into her chest. Emily kisses the side of your head, and groans about having to wait to have you.

You finish all up as fast as you can, trying to ignore the woman-koala that's wrapped around your waist, kissing your shoulder where the shirt keeps falling off.

"ok, I'm all yours now, try not to burn me, the stove is still warm" she lets out a devilish laugh

“mh, I like how that sounds, mine”

she loves hearing you’re hers, and you know it. She bites at your earlobe possessively.

she presses you into the counter, her kisses get heavier, hotter, deeper. "Ems-" you say breathlessly "mh?" she asks, her lips back onto yours.

"don't start something you can't finish" you say taking a moment to get away from her lips, but she's back at it in no time

"who says i'm not finishing this?"

Before you can even react, she lifts you up to the counter, you wrap your legs around her waist, your ankles pressing on her ass.

"I let you in my pants a couple of times and now it's all you can think about, who would've said SSA Prentiss was such a needy woman" you joke, her lips still kissing your neck, she snatches at you and kisses you again, biting your lip a little harder than usual

"well, i guess i just can't get enough of you" her lips crashing against yours once more "you're just lucky you're so cute, or i wouldn't let you get away with something like that"

Her words have an immediate effect on you, making you whine aloud "oh, please, don't let me get away with it"

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

I can write a thousand of this if you like them! I’m a sucker for intimacy and domestic Emily!!!! 😭😭😭

Like and reblog <3

[bbyhellfire]

eddie likes to eats you out with your underwear still on (18+ only)

eddie munson x afab!reader, porn no plot, cunnilingus through underwear, no penetration, eddie has a panty kink, panty sucking idk what to call it

It’s not the first time he’s done this – eat you out through your panties.

The first time you assumed he didn’t realize it. You didn’t even notice it in the moment, your mind in a cloudy haze after spending the day smoking weed. It wasn't until Eddie was he was notching his cock at your entrance did you register your underwear still on your body.

The second instance you dismissed due to a lack of time. You had ten minutes left of your work break when he dragged you into the back of his van. You barely managed to yank your pants off before Eddie was settled between your legs.

“W–wait, let me get these off–”

“No time. Just lay back for me.”

But now – with sober minds and zero time restraints – you suspect that he actually likes it. 

Not that you mind. It’s unconventional, but so is Eddie. 

Settled between your legs, he pauses at the sight of the underwear covering your pussy. You know he can see how worked up he’s gotten you. Shit, you can feel how wet you are.

His ringed fingers dig into the softness of your thighs to pull you closer to him. He makes zero movements to pull your underwear down, and neither do you. You remain still, attention focused on how he presses his nose into your clothed cunt and inhales.

"Eddie!" You gasp. The rush of air makes your pussy clench, something he can feel with his lips ghosting over your entrance. 

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he glances up at you, “I can feel your pussy pulsing, baby. Drooling, too." You're soaked as if I didn’t fuck you this morning.”

He’s not technically wrong – the gusset is drenched in your arousal; whatever wetness that couldn't be absorbed is now smearing your inner thighs. Eddie is stating facts, but it's the way the he says it that makes goosebumps raise on your arms and chest. His words are so casual, the undertone of mischief barely recognizable, but it sets you on edge. You feel like you’re on a roller coaster waiting for the first drop.

He nuzzles his nose against your clit, making you whimper, “Please, don't tease. I need you.”

“I know, baby. You’re almost as needy as your pussy.”

Not one to waste time, he starts with a soft kiss to your clit before dragging his kisses down to your clothed entrance. It makes you collapse back on the bed, eyes closing as the only thing you can focus on is his mouth.

Maybe you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, but the way the wet cotton of your panties gives off a gentle friction as his tongue moves along your folds is damn near perfect.

“'Taste so good,” His hands grip your thighs a little harder as he licks a stripe against you. “Like fucking candy.”

As if to prove a point, he pushes his head forward to eliminate any sliver of space between the two of you. He continues to kiss you, lick you, suck you. Up and down, side to side until you're hiccuping his name.

You're right at the edge of release. The burning ache between your legs is spreading, traveling down your nerves. You manage to peel your eyes open and lift yourself up enough to see see the vision that is Eddie between your legs. His eyes are closed, as if lost in a trance, so consumed with the taste of you on his tongue that his hips are shifting against the mattress. Barely out of your view, you see it. The faint image of his hips shifting, grinding mindless against the mattress.

“Oh, fu–ck! You really like this, Eddie.”

Your words have his eyes snapping opening, pausing his movements to speak a muffled response. His ragged breath fans against your wetness. “‘Course I do. And I think you do, too. ‘Can feel you twitching, baby. You need these off?”

You shake your head no. Absolutely fucking not. The fact that Eddie is grinding against the mattress because he is so turned even with the fabric separating him from your cunt is so...erotic. Powerful even.

“No, just need you.”

“Then come for me and make it messy.”

And you do. Your orgasm crests shortly after he takes his clit between his teeth. Your undoing breaks with a rush of your release spilling out from the edges of your soaked underwear. Heat spiders through your limns, incinerating everything about you until you're left weak and panting.

In the disconnectedness of your orgasm, you start to register your surroundings. The clothes scattered across the room, the smell of sex permeating the small space, and a soft bubbling sound.

Your brows furrow as you listen closely , only to then realize Eddie is still between your legs, his mouth still moving against your cunt. He's still there, mouthing at you.

Your face burns with a new desire, your voice as wrecked as your body as you start, "Wait, are you...oh, fuck you are..."

He hums out a lazy response as he greedily wrings the soaked fabric between his teeth until every last drop of you is in his mouth.

Yeah, Eddie really fucking likes this.

[elbiotipo]

your post about potatoes in fantasy worlds made me base my primary fantasy continent off sudamérica so i could use fantasy versions of andean and amazonian fauna/flora. I'm still trying to figure out how to change the geography enough to have the big desert i want in the right area(andes get an offshoot that encircles a rain shadow desert in the central north is the best idea i have) but actually being forced to consider how native wildlife works and needing to create trade routes if i wanted imported crops was fun. i was also trying to figure out why the southern hemisphere has more hot climates than the north and something said it's because the south on earth has less landmass so i think having the northern hemisphere above it be mostly tropical works if I have mostly archipelagos? also every time i see a european based fantasy have potatoes or tomatoes i shake my head and scowl.

The reason why the Southern Hemisphere seems to have more hot climates is indeed simply because the continental parts don't spread that far South to actually cold southern latitudes. The only place that really sticks that far south to have a truly cold climate is the Patagonia. And of course, Antarctica, which by coinicidence, basically surrounds the South Pole.

Here is a map of "temperate" latitudes, or rather, latitudes between the tropics and the polar circles (as someone who lives here, or indeed an Australian can tell you, many places there are not "temperate" at all but more on that below). What is important here is that the southern hemisphere has less places closer to the pole, except, again, Antarctica, while the northern hemisphere has lots of land near the poles. This is why we don't have our equivalents of say, Siberia, for example. The closest thing is again, Patagonia. Honestly an underused place for worldbuilding, with the steppe, the glaciers, the temperate rainforests, and the recently extinct megafauna, but I digress.

You could in fact have a tropical "north" if you keep most of the northern hemisphere's landmasses near the equator (here I'm picturing some kind of big Indonesia or Caribbean, an area where tectonic plates collide and there's lots of volcanic islands and lands), and you could place a big continent in the South to make it a cold South. Interesting reversal on the cold North/warm South of most settings.

This would bring some interesting effects, though. Placing a big landmass on any pole (not a small one like Antarctica) would lead to glaciation, as land is "colder" or rather less moderated by ocean (more on that later) and glaciers grow, and glaciers and arid land have greater albedo, reflectivity, that is, and so they reflect more sunlight, thus those place become colder, and the glaciers keep growing, and so on, until there is an ice-age. I don't have the link where I read it with me, but I recall that continents shifting to polar latitudes might have triggered ice-ages in Earth's past.

Deserts are very tricky to place. The standard worldbuilding recommendation is that the interior of the continents are drier as you get away from the sea, and that mountain chains and high terrain serves as rainshadows that stop rain from the sea. However, there is a lot more to it. A LOT more.

You can find deserts even next to oceans, in the so-called "horse latitudes", the meeting points of the Hadley Cells that circulate air from the Equator to the subtropics and beyond. The details are a bit technical, but what this means basically is that they create jet streams of circulating air at 30° South and North, keeping the climate sunny, warm and dry. This is indeed where many of the world's coastal deserts are: Atacama, Kalahari, and of course, Australia.

Meanwhile, in the equatorial zone, the "trade winds" (because they have regular wind patterns that have historical formed major sea trade routes, worldbuilding hint!) converge in the Equator, forming rainy areas... but not quite that simple.

The Intertropical Convergence Zone, where these winds meet, ocsilates during the year, creating monsoons, but as always, there are lots of factors involved. In particular, given our real life scenario of rapid climate change and global warming, a warmer temperature means more intense ocsilations. This makes monsoon events sharper (more droughts and floods in those regions) and more strong La Niña/El Niño events, which are their own thing, influenced by the Pacific which is a huge factor in global climate.

And this brings me to ocean currents. Usually, being close to the ocean moderates the climate, making it more rainy and warm, or at least stable. However, if the surrounding sea is cool, it means less evaporation and less rainfall, especially if it's influenced by cool polar currents (this is the case of eastern Patagonia, for example, with the cold Malvinas Current). The opposite is the case in, for example, Europe, where the warm gulf stream moderates climate, making it warmer and rainer compared to the same latitudes in the US and Canada. I'll admit I'm not very well informed on how ocean currents work, but the depth and salinity of the ocean have much to do with it. What basically happens is that dense salty water sinks and and this works as a "conveyor belt" for warm less dense surface water to flow over it and over great distances. These currents are slow, but since the ocean is so massive, they move extensive amounts of heat across the world. I will admit defeat here and just say I don't wholly understand how it works, but I can tell you this; if your world has a less salty ocean, your currents will be less strong, which means that the differences of temperature between the poles and the tropics will be sharper as there are no strong currents to overall moderate temperature. If this is all too complex for you as it is to me, the quick cheat is just looking at this map: warm water flows from the equator, and cold water flows from the poles, and they create "gyres" around the oceans and the Equator, and cold currents contribute to colder and drier climates (note the Canary, Benguela and Peru currents, the Malvinas current is not shown for some reason...)

Did I forget something? Oh, yes. A colder climate of course, means less rainfall, because there is less evaporation and there is much water "trapped" in glaciers and snow. Which seems to be the case during the last ice ages. Rainforests and forests in general retreated as deserts expanded. In fact, the few forests that remained served as refugiums for species that only expanded again once the ice age was over. Some especulate that this might meant a 'weakening' of megafauna, as they were trapped in those refuges with lots of interbreeding and weakened populations when humans arrived on the scene. Here is a very interesting map:

Now, there are some contradictions here and there, some researchers have said that the climate wasn't that dry and while I'm not an expert I tend to agree, many parts that are "extreme desert" there might be scrubland instead. But overall, it seems that colder times bring drier times too.

I'm still not done, but I'm almost done! According to the Biotic Pump theory, forests might also influence the climate and rainfall in a big way, basically, evapotranspiration (plants sweat, a lot, 90% of water through a plant evaporates to the atmosphere) in forests might actually create by itself the rainy environment where forests thrive, so for example, the Amazon is a rainforest BECAUSE of the forest there. I think with the increasing droughts here in South America we're seeing that theory proven in practice, as deforestation of the Mata Atlantica, the Chaco and the Amazon is causing less rainfall in the centre of the continent. Forests and plants also have a cooling effect, since they fix carbon dioxide, and also a bit of a warming effect, since they have darker albedo and so absorb more sunlight. I'm going to be very lazy and instead of reading a thousand papers say that they overall have a "moderating" effect.

Well, I could go on and on but I think I've already written way too much, so I'll leave you this to munch on a bit. It might seem like a lot, but when in doubt, you can always "eyeball" it by comparing real regions of Earth, and it will help you to create more interesting world than the omnipresent "spring-summer-fall-winter" temperate standard in so many settings.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! Oh, and also, if you found this helpful or interesting, I would appreciate a tip to my ko-fi!

[whousestypewriters]

i don't even know your name - jameson hawthorne x reader

pairing: jameson hawthorne x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, kissing + like running away from the police

a/n: hehe my first tig fic! and my first on this account. i had this little idea at exactly 12:26am in the middle of revamping this blog and wanted to write it i shouldve gone to bed, so sorry if this is crap - sleep deprivation is reallll. its also unedited-

ok so technically you did steal a car.

but come on, the seven police cars driving after you is just a little bit excessive. especially since its not even a decent car... from a junkyard - which to be honest you're still surprised it even started. no even cares about the damn thing except for you and the junkyard owner who apparently has a vendetta against you.

you've met the guy twice, he's a stinky old man who spends most of his days wasted and drunk. and he's never once paid attention to you sneaking in and out basically living in the car you've just stolen. sorry, borrowed.

the red and blue flashing lights bring you back to your current situation and you wince when you shift gears and swing almost violently around the corner into oncoming traffic. swerving around the honking cars and bright lights you manage to merge back into the right lanes and push forward trying to put distance between you and the cops.

you slip through the cars not even caring about the other people at this point. you just need this car. getting a job these days is harder then it seems and you'd just been offered a job with really good pay and the only requirement was you needed your own car to get to and from work.

so seeing as you're an eighteen year old homeless girl with little to no money, temporarily borrowing this car seemed like a really good idea - until it wasn't of course.

pulling over on the side of the road you decide to abandon the car and try to get away on foot - you can always catch the bus right? following the flow of the crowd you swirl your way through checking over your shoulder every few seconds, not even noticing the fact that you've gone up steps and entered a large line until the security guard calls out to you.

"hey kid! ticket?" swinging around you look up to the stern guard.

"pardon?"

"where's your ticket?"

"oh..." you trail off and the guard steps forward.

"miss, do you have a ticket?"

"....no?"

stepping forward the guard starts to reach for his gun. "miss i'm going to need to ask you to leave."

looking behind you, you try and work out your best escape route from the now approaching police men and the menacing guard at your back.

"uh yeah i'm leaving now," you say swinging around and slipping under the guard and bolting through the doors.

you enter probably the grandest entry room ever. its like straight out of a movie with the grand staircases and people in elegant clothing, unfortunately you don't get much time to admire everything with security and police on your ass.

pushing past the shrieking guests aside you run through the crowd to the next room, straight into the middle of... a dinner party.

great.

this is just great.

"GET HER!" the one of the policemen yells from behind you. you take off again rushing past women in fancy dresses and men in tuxes trying your very best not to step on any of their outfits - because hey, you may be homeless dressed like a middle aged man, but damnit you can appreciate a good outfit.

running into a hallway you panic slightly, choosing a random door and slamming it shut. trying to get ahold of your breath you close your eyes and rest your head against the door, taking deep breaths.

a throat clears from behind you and you practically jump out of your skin.

"hello."

"holy shit! doesn't anybody knock these days??" you shriek.

you look around the office trying to find the owner of the voice but to no avail. the office seemed plain enough a large plush chair behind a mahogany desk with sofas and book shelves adorning the sides of the wall.

"hello?" you look around the office again, bending down to check under the desk.

"look up," the voice comes again.

looking up you see the shadow of a boy sitting on the overhanging ledge of the bookshelf.

"who are you?" you ask eyeing the door and wondering if you still have enough time to get away before the police arrive.

"i think we should really be focusing more on you." the boy's voice vibrates through the room. he leans forward to the point of almost falling off the edge but somehow still staying on.

"i'm not important," you say, then motion up to him. "you'll fall."

"i can assure you i won't." for a moment the boy just lingers there before launching himself off the bookshelf and landing on the floor in front of you. "and besides you've piqued my interest." he strolls over to the desk and casually leans against it as if he wasn't a freaking godlike person.

seriously that bookshelf had to be at least three and a half meters tall!

the boy - now that you can see him better - is also godlike in his looks. its devastating how handsome he is. he's around your age with soft brown hair that seemed to be styled when the night began and had fallen across his forehead and his eyes. his eyes were like emeralds sparkling in the moonlight. suddenly you're favourite colour is green.

"now tell me again, who are you?" he grins - its an awful grin, the type that makes you want to die because its so beautiful.

swallowing the lump that formed in your throat you push the words out. "as i said, that's not important. what is important is that you forget you ever saw me."

the boy raises an eyebrow flashing another grin. "i'm afraid i can't do that."

"why?"

"because you are quiet unforgettable."

you freeze for a moment, then roll your eyes. "is that what you tell every girl who barges into a room to hide?"

"ahh so you're hiding?"

clenching your jaw at that slight bit of information you let slip, you nod.

"from?"

"who do you think jackass? i'm dressed like a 1950's street urchin and just crashed probably the most fancy dinner party i'll ever see, so really, who do you think i'm hiding from? fucking peppa pig?"

a loud bang comes from down the hall and you swing around wishing you had ran instead of talking to the mystery boy.

"come here." his voice snaps you out of your panic.

"what?"

"come here, you don't want to be caught? get over here."

narrowing your eyes at him you move closer to him. "what are you gonna do?"

he stares at you for a moment. "can i touch you?"

"WHAT?"

"not like that, god. that's where your mind went? no. i was just being respectful before i kissed you."

that you pause at. "you're going to kiss me?"

"well, with your permission of course."

"you don't have it."

the boy pouts playfully. "why not?"

"because believe it or not, crashing dinner parties and kissing random strangers who's names i don't know isn't something i do on a regular basis."

"well if you don't want to get caught...." he trails off.

"ew so what if i kiss you, you won't give me up? you think you're that good do you?"

"sweetheart, i am that good."

"not helping your case."

"if i kiss you it hides your face, none of them would ever try and cross me," the boy offers grinning again - does he ever stop smiling? seriously its harmful to look at someone this good looking for this amount of time.

"cause you're just that good right?"

"you're a quick learner."

the commotion from outside comes closer and you tense up weighing your options. goddamnit you're gonna have to kiss him.

"fine you have my permission," you huff. "just don't rat me out."

"i would never."

the police must have reached your door because they knock twice asking if someone is inside that they come out now.

"fucking hell," you mutter. "i cannot believe i'm doing this. i don't even know your name."

"don't worry you're in good hands," the boy says his voice low. he wraps his arms around your waist looking at you to make sure its okay.

"if you don't come out now we're coming in!" the voice from outside yells banging against the door twice more.

"by the way, the names jameson," the boy says before he seals his lips to yours and the door is ripped open with men pouring in.

but you hardly notice it. the boy's - jameson as he called himself - lips are warm as the press into yours. its soft but searing sending tingles through your brain. every thought or protest you had fell out of your head and your hands shoot up into his hair as he tightens is own arms around you.

you're so lost in the kiss you don't even hear the men behind you clearing their throats awkwardly.

pulling away jameson looks at you for a moment seemingly just as stunned as you are before he pulls your head to his chest and rests a hand on the back of your hair keeping your face hidden.

"yes?"

"have you seen a girl; brunette, around your age, wearing a black cocktail dress run through here or past here?" one of the officers asks avoiding eye contact.

"what did you say she was wearing again?" jameson asks.

"a black cocktail dress." these are like the worst policemen ever.

"well... yes-" you tense, this is it. this is where he rats you out, motherfuc-"but she went down the hall and through to the ballroom probably hiding in the crowd."

nodding each of the policemen leave the room and storm their way down the hallway. "uh sorry about interrupting you two as well," the last one says on his way out.

when its safe you pull back from jameson and thank him.

"its not over yet," he grins - seriously who decided he should be this handsome? and takes your hand leading you out the room and down the hallway. "follow me."

you slip out through the now empty entryway and run down the stairs together. this feels suspiciously like a romance novel. when you reach the steps you pull jameson to a stop. "wait don't you have to go to this dinner thing?"

"if it means not spending time with you, i'm okay with missing it," he winks.

"nope, you're not trying to flirt your way into being an outlaw with me," you tease.

"it was worth a shot."

smiling up at the boy who let you go free tonight you reach up on your tip toes and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "i'll be seeing ya jameson."

you slip out into the night leaving jameson on the steps. leaving behind the dangerous feeling that you could lose your heart to that boy.

at least you won't see him again.

[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]

a/n pt2: i hope you liked it!!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Fully Set-Up Johnlock Discord Server up for Adoption

@theshopislocal said:

Hiya :). I had a question for you, [...] Around this time last year, I got back into Sherlock fandom (series four kinda killed my interest for a long time, but I got recced a Sherlock fic that got me back into it). Since I left Sherlock fandom, I’d gotten into others (Spn, Harry Potter, etc), and joined a couple of discord servers that were super fun and very helpful.

So I started looking round for a Johnlock discord server, and found basically nothing. The ones that existed weren’t very well organized, or weren’t maintained well, etc.

So I put together a server myself. Set everything up, even coded a Mrs Hudson bot to help out around the place. A couple people I knew from other servers joined, and we had a nice time for about a week or so, before I realized that I’d expended all of my gumption on the making of the server.

Turns out that, while I’m good at the technical side of things, I’m not really mod material.

So I’ve got a kitted out server, with custom bots and emojis and a broad range of channels, and, not to pat myself on the back, but it’s a pretty nice server—and I have no idea what to do with it.

I was hoping you might know of someone who is still active enough/interested in the fandom to adopt the server from me? Someone who would actually advertise and get people to join? Someone interested in doing the mod stuff that it turns out I’m terrible at? I’d be happy to stay on as tech support, and the Mrs Hudson bot runs on a dedicated server that only costs me $2 a month, so I’m happy to maintain her as well.

You seem like someone in the know in the current fandom, so I thought I’d ask. If you can think of anyone or you want an invite link to the server, let me know. Although, fair warning, the server has very few members and is currently very quiet :/.

[...] The Snape/Harry server I’m in has all these events and fun stuff and I’m just.. not really able to do all that, but I feel like the Johnlock fandom deserves a nice community server like that, if that makes any sense?

Thanks for your time.

======

Hi Lovely!!

First off, sorry again for putting this aside for so long... I haven't been having the best couple weeks, LOL.

Secondly, as we discussed, I would LOVE to have my own discord server, but here's the thing: I am Lazy™, and I just don't have the energy to run one full time and ensure Mods and stuff are sorted out, especially since I do have a full-time job on top of very little free time and running this blog, LOL. I'm not gonna lie, I am a lazy bitch, hahaha.

AND as I mentioned, I'm happy to put the callout for anyone interested in taking over a Discord server :) From what I see so far, you put SO MUCH work into the server, and it's very very nice!! I truly hope that it gets picked up by someone, I'd be sad to see your hard work put aside.

If anyone is interested, please contact @theshopislocal and they can provide you with more details! 💜🖤

Please reblog if you can to put more eyes on this :) As I said, it's a BEAUTIFUL server, and I would love for someone to be able to take over moderation duties from Lovely!

[friccafracc]

so I've been making a Dungeons and Dragons campaign set in the Magnus Archives Post-Change, and I'm coming up with npc's for my players to interact with!

I have seen Strandy all over my dash here and on twitter, and I wanted to know if you'd be okay with me sticking him in my game as an npc? and if the answer is yes, could you give me some fun facts/backstory/info on him?

I just love the little guy and I think my players would like him too!

omg Strandy npc YES ok so Strandy technically doesnt have a name, but everyone just calls him Strandy because hes a "Stranger andy" ("don't ask me what that means"). Despite his constant social blunders, he's actually fairly competent on his own and knows his way around the fears and being an Avatar. While he's in disguise he has canned surface-level responses to small talk he uses over and over again. He also doesn't have a lot of patience and will get agitated if people ask him too many dumb questions. Backstory-wise, he won't give any information very easily (mostly because he doesn't remember a lot of it) but for mechanics and character building, he was a white guy living in the suburbs in southern USA (yes, he might have a little bit of an accent if you want to give him one shdfgkh) during the 50's and 60's--peak cold war era. He had a wife in a loveless marriage before he went full-avatar. He remembers the first time he wore a skin to impersonate his then boss. He doesn't remember what his name was. Fun facts! He's a little bit of a clean freak and strives to keep up appearances even after the eye-pocalypse. Technically he can eat, though it's lost its pleasure a long time ago (and besides, eating and drinking with the mask is clumsy and messy anyways). His closet comprises of the exact same white dress shirts, pants and ties that he insists are all for different occasions.

Hope this gives you enough for Strandy npc and I hope everyone has fun in your campaign!! :D

[salchat]

So, here's another Dean. This one's in neocolor crayon, which are very soft crayons - you can use water with them, but I haven't here, because the paper's newsprint and it would fall to pieces very quickly if I used water.

While I was drawing, I was pondering various arty matters. Mainly, how some art/craft posts - mostly on Facebook rather than here - irritate the hell out of me. You know the ones. Where there's some amazing piece of art/craft, but the caption is something like, 'please be kind - it's my first time!' When it's blatantly not their first time, unless art and craft is just plain easy, which it isn't. Anyway, I'm not sure why people make those posts - for others to comment how amazing they are? I suppose. But it must be pretty hollow to receive such compliments. Unless it really is their first time. And even then...

So, anyway, it made me think, why do I post my art? What exactly do I get out of it? Do I do it to receive validation in the form of compliments? I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but I just wanted to be really honest with myself. And also, why do I make art in the first place and why this particular type of art, drawing the same characters over and over?

Well, I think I draw for the same, or similar reasons that I write - because it's my own world, that I can control. There's comfort there, isn't there? And comfort in the characters I draw and write about - they're not called comfort characters for nothing, after all. And they're beautiful, aren't they? They're just damn beautiful. Why wouldn't I want to draw them?

So, I guess I want to pour my love into creating something beautiful, or as near beauty as I can get. And I choose to do that with my crayons or my charcoal or my pastels because I love those things too - their colours, the way they spread, the way you can make big, soft marks or sharp, dark marks, the way you can smush them around with your fingers, the way you can just mess about and sometimes it doesn't work and sometimes you get an amazing effect that you didn't know was possible. I love drawing randomly, roughly, searching and searching until I find what I want.

But why post online? Hmm... Well, yes, it is nice when people think what I've created is technically skilful. I have an ego that likes to be stroked, same as anyone else. But if that was the only reason, I'd probably cheat. Some people do. And if that makes them happy, who am I to criticize?

Anyway, I think what I'm after is connection, which is in no way an original thought. That's what makes fandom so wonderful, isn't it? The way you can find connections with other people all over the world. I think when I post, I'm looking for people who love the same kinds of things that I do - the same characters, obviously, but also the same kind of approach to art. The colours and the roughness, the playfulness and the 'continuing mission' to find beauty. I think I post in the hopes that someone will see my art and think, 'hey, I like that.' And that they'll feel a little spark of joy.

I think that's what all our fan creations are about. You get the firework of joy and excitement that goes off when you create your story or your picture and then, around the fandom world, other people get a spark struck from your joy. Which is pretty flowery stuff, but, hey - I'm a writer, aren't I?

That's enough rambling. Nearly. Because I also want to do the thing I often do, which is totally anti the 'it's my first time!' kind of posts. This is very far from my first time and I want you to see the crappiness of my progress shots, because it's important to know that there's almost always a lot of crappy stages before you reach something you consider beautiful. Not perfect. I'm not after perfection, which is impossible anyway, and I would never say any of my stuff is perfect because it's far from perfect and I don't want that - I want life and humanity and striving toward something.

I'm gonna shut up now, because there are burgers to be cooked and chocolate cake to be eaten, and hey! Doctor Who's on soon! Bye!

[agirlandhersweetdelusions]

Mermaid who is infatuated with your legs and wants to be in between them. The encounter is by chance, but it ends in something deeper than friendship. 🌊

Feminine Reader x Mermaid

CW: Smut | Some Horror | Mentions of Drowning | No death

"C'mon don't be a baby," Noah said. His tone indicated that he was joking, but you knew well enough that deep down, he hoped you would swim in Lake Lost at night.

"Leave her alone. You know she's not down for things like that," Mira hissed in his direction.

Mira had been your best friend since high school. She knew what you liked, didn't like, and downright hated. Which made it all the more surprising when she started going out with Noah years later.

Noah had always been an ass. He spent a majority of 11th grade in detention, and a majority of college skipped class from being too hungover. In your opinion, Mira was too good for him. It was an inside joke that if she were into girls that you would treat her way better.

You sighed. "If only," you thought to yourself.

The water seemed to have an electric hum to it tonight, and the closer you walked to the edge of the dock, the louder it got.

"Do you guys feel that?" You asked, turning to face your two friends. Of course they didn't because they were too busy making out. Again.

You cleared your throat.

"Earth to horny. Can you hear me? I am standing right here, you know."

Pulling away from Noah, Mira's eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Embarrassed looked cute on her.

Noah, however, wore embarrassment about as well as he would wear anything. Proudly and way too loud for your liking.

"What can I say," he pulled Mira back to his chest. "She's hot," he finished with an annunciation on the "t".

"At least go back to the car so I don't have to watch," you sneered. Clearly, you were the least important thing here.

"No! This is supposed to be our little reunion before the wedding," Mira's eyes dropped as she tried to step towards you. Ah, right. The wedding. You were going to be Mira's maid of honor next week.

None of it felt real. The wedding. College graduation. Hell, even life itself felt strange these days. It's as if everything you knew turned inside out over night, and nobody else felt the difference but you.

You took a deep breath.

"I can always jump in the lake some other time," you faked a half smile.

"Besides. I'm sure you two would like to make one last memory here before becoming," you swallowed, "husband and wife."

Mira turned her head. What her eyes fixated on, you couldn't quite tell. The only thing apparent is that she'd rather look anywhere but at her so-called best friend.

"Well," Noah said breaking the tension.

"Maybe she's right. We can always go for some new memories." He wiggled his eyebrows and Mira's shoulders eased. Your stomach lurched in a pattern with the waves behind you.

"If you're sure -" Mira began.

"I'm sure. Go. I'll be here. I - I missed Lake Lost."

"Really?" They said in unison, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. You know, I love lore and mysteries. What is Lake Lost besides one big mystery. All those bodies are still missing. Surely, it was from boating accidents or drowning, but still. You guys deserve some privacy."

Mira's gaze leveled with yours. Her eyes, a coppery brown, finally showed signs of softening.

You were getting comfortable under the heat of her eyes when Noah swept her off of her feet. Literally.

"Let's go, future Mrs. Scobolt."

With that, they were disappearing in heaps of laughter back towards the car. It wasn't quite that far from the dock, but Mira suggested parking at the entrance in case anyone showed up.

Technically, the park closed at sunset which was 2 hours ago, but when you saw the sign from the backseat of the car, you got a little excited.

Mira hadn't been wrong. You guys used to spend every evening here in the summer. It was where you learned to swim, where Mira caught a baby crab, where a pelican stole your shoe, and where you and Mira kissed.

These waters have seen everything and more. Much more.

Your spine ran cold in the July heat at the thought of the deaths. They had explanations for all of them, but it was eerie how they all occurred at night. Who would go boating at night? The lake is closed!

Then again, here you were. You looked back towards the car, but a thick fog had begun to roll off of the restless waters. You couldn't see more than 200 feet around you in any direction. It was as if a cloud had swallowed you in the time you were thinking.

Going back to the car was still an option, but the mental image of Mira being pounded into by Noah set off a dozen alarms in your head.

Her head rolling back, his hands on her hips.

No. You'd stay at the dock until you were sure that whatever they were doing was over.

Cementing the idea in your head, you say down at the edge of the wooden structure. The water reminded you of the midnight sky, an abyss that had no end. Yet, the clinginess of your shirt to your skin meant that the humidity was only rising.

You decided to soak your feet in the water, and as your legs made contact with the coolness of the lake, a happy sigh escaped your lips.

A few minutes pass of you relaxing on your forearms, feet gently swaying in the lake. You watched the ripples from your moments with hooded eyes.

"I can see how people fall asleep out here," you think whilst fighting back a yawn.

The rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, the chirp of bullfrogs, the increasing bubble of the water - wait.

You sit up, fully alert and eyes wide. The bubbles are concentrated in one area, but they're quickly moving closer to you.

Whipping your head to the car, you open your mouth to call for help. The problem is that nothing comes out. You're stuck.

It's as if you've been submerged in ice. A chill coats your bones, freezing you in place. Your mind races onward, begging your legs to rise from the water.

The circle of erratic lake closes in and as the bubbles reach the edge of your legs, you come to your senses.

But it's too late.

The summer air is warm, but the spot of the lake where you're pulled into is warmer. Water floods your vision and you find yourself flailing, gripping as nothing as you are pulled down into an ombre of darker blues.

You can't see what's grabbed you, nor do you care. Why does it feel like a hand? That doesn't matter, you begin to kick with the hope of striking anything.

The murky water is quickly filling your lungs, and your ability to struggle is growing weak. A blackness eats at the edge of your vision, and dizziness begins to set in.

"Mira!" You try to scream, but it comes out in a slew of air bubbles that only floods your lungs quicker.

You give one more kick, stronger than the rest. You feel your heel connect with a mass. Suddenly, you're free. You slowly make your way to the surface, fighting the urge to pass out.

"Fuck," you gasp in a voice that sounds unlike your own. Coughing and sputtering, water spews from your body, and you grab onto the wooden base of the dock for support.

"What on earth was -," you stop when you hear the familiar rumble of hot water. The bubbles. They've come back, and they're racing towards you.

With no time or energy to pull yourself onto the dock, you wait - panting, for whatever the creature is to take you again.

Maybe it's for the best? You weren't exactly happy with your life before, and it's not like Mira would miss you at this point.

Just as you've resigned to becoming fish food, the creature begins to show itself. First, a black spot appears on the surface. Then, as it rises, you're frozen to the spot by icy white eyes with thick lashes of the same hue.

It's a woman. No? It's - what is she? Her eyes are huge and nearly human minus the color, but her skin is a milky blue. She's beautiful albeit definitely not human.

"Are those," your voice trembles, and you reach a shaky hand up towards her face.

The woman - thing, tilts her head. She doesn't move from your touch. Instead, you made contact with her skin. It's ice cold, and your suspicion was correct. She has gills.

Lost in a sea of thoughts, you hardly realize that you'd begun to stroke her skin.

"What -" her voice startles you back to the present. It is dreamy and quiet with a lilt that has you mesmerized.

"What are you?" She asks. Her eyes are wider than yours, but while you're staring at her face, she has taken a liking to staring at your chest.

The look on her face isn't at all displeased, and a heat trickles down your neck. As if on cue, her eyes snap to yours. She waits for you to respond.

"Oh, um. I'm a human. I'm a woman."

"Human? Woman?" Her head is still tilted, so you continue.

"Yeah. A human. I live up there," you point towards the land and her eyes follow. She blinks a few times before looking down into the water.

"And what are those?"

"What are what?" You look down to see what caught her attention, but instead of finding the source of her curiosity, you stir up your own.

A tail. She has a tail. Her human form ends at her bellybutton, and from there blooms a tail that glitters in sparks of white and lavender beneath the dark surface.

"Mermaid" you whisper under your breath.

Apparently, you did not answer the mermaid's question fast enough because you feel her looming over you before you see her.

Her chest comes into view, and you're forced to look up to meet her eyes once more. You bite your lip to avoid smiling at how gorgeous she is.

She chuckles, emitting a sound like tinkering bells and you feel a webbed palm on your thigh.

A panicked yelp slips from your lips before you register what happened.

"I apologize!" The mermaid responds.

"I did not know that your tails were so sensitive. I should have asked first."

Tails? She thinks you have tails? You look down at your legs, then back up at her. She's shrunken into herself, embarrassed at what she thinks may have hurt you.

"No. No no no," you begin to laugh.

"These are my legs," you swim around her in a small circle.

"They help me to swim, walk, and run. They're kind of important. I guess they are to me what your tail is to you."

You don't know why you've become so animated, but seeing the mermaid smile at your explanation has your heart picking up it's pace.

"By the way," you can't stop talking. You've tried, but the words keep flooding out.

"Why did the water bubble when you came? Also, why did you try to drown me?"

She blinks again, narrowing her eyes.

"Drown you? I - I thought you could swim like me? Are you not able to breathe water for long?"

"I can't breathe water at all. I have no gills. Human."

"Huh," she looks off to the side.

"Perhaps that is why those other humans did not last very long with me. I only wanted to study their two tails, but by the time I took them back to my shell cave, they did not want to talk to me."

Your stomach lurches again. She's the reason Lake Lost is called Lake Lost, and she has no idea what she's even done.

"So - So you only wanted to look at their legs? You drowned those people by accident?"

Recognition hits the mermaid like a wave. She spins around, scaled fingers over her mouth.

"I took their lives. Oh goodness, I drowned them!"

She did, and she should probably feel bad about it, but watching her tail flap in distress was not only upsetting you, but it was causing some bigger waves to form in the lake. You could swim, but you weren't sure if you could survive a tsunami.

You swim to her, placing a hand on her back.

"Warm," she turns to you, claimed.

"You are warm."

"Yes. I am. It's human blood. If I'm not warm, then I'll die."

She giggles at your factual explanation.

"You're very interesting. I still feel remorse for the humans that I hurt. I didn't mean to. I promise," she looks at you pleadingly.

"I know you didn't, and if it makes you feel better you can study my legs," the end of your sentence comes out as more of a question. You can't believe you just said that. What if she tries to rip your legs off?

Still, she's stunning. The moon is in its crescent phase, casting a dim shadow over the lake. Her dark hair has a faint light to it, and her white eyes look pearlescent. You could study her for hours, but her lack of shirt deters you as you don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She, on the other hand, has no problem with taking all of you in. Her claim is that she wants to study your legs, but every time you look away, her eyes flutter back to your chest, your lips.

Her hand twitches, and she claps both of them together in front of her.

"I would like that. Thank you," she smiles, and you shiver again at her teeth. They're razor sharp. She could kill you with one bite.

Not that she would. In fact, what happens next surprises you. Grabbing onto the dock, you begin to hoist yourself from the water without much success. Your hands are too wet to get a decent grip.

Sinking back into the water for the second time, you let out a frustrated huff.

Without warning, you feel a pair of icy cold hands gripping your hips, and a torso pressing itself to your back.

Staring into those white irises, she doesn't break your gaze and she lifts you onto the dock, setting you down gently.

You open your mouth to speak, but she beats you to it.

"You are welcome, human." A light blue creeps onto her neck and cheeks.

"What is it that fascinates you about legs? I know you don't have them, but they must look awfully funny to you from beneath the lake's surface."

"They do, but that is why I like them. They are something new. I have had this tail since I was young. It no longer interests me."

The mermaid takes pause, and her eyes scan you over again.

She continues, "Humans are different. Your anatomy is more complex. There are parts that do different things. I have heard many stories about your kind."

"Really? From who?"

"Fish that get set free, my sisters who used to watch humans from a distance. They say that if you make a human very happy, then something good happens. They called it "the cry".

Now it's your turn to be confused.

"Crying is usually not a good thing when humans do it. At least, in my experience. Though, I've not had many joyous occasions to cry over," you avoid her piecing eyes.

"No. It is not a sad cry. It is one that happens when you touch the spots between a human's legs."

She speaks in a voice that edges with excitement. You inch closer towards her at the edge of the dock until your legs brush her chest.

"Do you - are you saying that you want to do that? You want to have sex with a human?"

She laughs again, "Yes. I want to know everything about you. How your legs feel when I wrap them around my waist, how the -"

"What?"

"What would you like me to call your sensitive place, sweet human?"

"Well it's -" you snort out a laugh. You can't believe this is happening.

"Most people refer to it as a pussy, but you can use whatever word you see fit,"

"May I take a look at it?" she asks, moving forward to close any space between the two of you.

"And while I'm at it," she maneuvers your legs so that they rest on her hips, stroking them with her palms. You expected more scales, but her palms are completely smooth.

Leaning towards you until her nose nearly brushed yours, she whispers, "is this ok?"

You nod eagerly as words fail you again.

"Gosh, your legs are so cute. It's like they were made to hold people - or merpeople between them," she looks down, admiring the connection of your limbs and her body.

"Human."

"Hm?"

"I asked you earlier, but I think you were too distracted. May I see your pretty, sensitive areas?"

You think for a moment.

"Only if you promise that you'll greet them with a kiss."

Her eyes beam, a faint white glow added to their usual milkiness. A high pitched purr rumbles from somewhere within her throat, and she smiled, barring all of her teeth.

You lifted yourself enough that she could pull off your bottoms, but she protested the action.

"Human. I think you misunderstand my kindness. Please, do as I ask like an obedient creature."

Your ass hit the dock with a thump. Why on earth were you listening to her willingly? Is she using magic?

You didn't have to ponder because with a airy whisper of the word, "lift" you found yourself rising again for her to do exactly what you tried to help her with.

"Good girl," she mumbled.

And it was if your head no longer existed for the second she saw pussy, she was in a trance. She sunk into the water, leveling her gaze with your cunt. Her eyes reflecting no trace of what she saw, yet you could feel the wind rolling onto your clit.

You were wet, and she loved nothing more in the world than water.

"Pretty," she said breathlessly, still moving closer until her lips were centimeters from your clit.

"Is this it, sweet human?"

You knew she meant your clit. You could feel her cold breath chilling you from the outside, in.

"Yes, miss," you tested the nickname.

She made no sudden movement and to say, "What a polite pearl you are."

That must've been her last thought, too because after that you felt bliss. Short kisses were being peppered onto your folds.

She was working her way down to your entrance, teasing your hole with her double pointed tongue before she spread her affection to your inner thighs.

Your hand reached out, resting lighting in her damp hair, and emitted another of those high-pitched whines.

You gripped her harder.

"Do not get greedy, human," she teased, lifting one of your legs from the water to kiss her way down to your ankle.

"If it is me you want, then I will give it to you with time."

Her movements never ceased, and within seconds she was back between your legs, lapping at your folds.

Delighted hums left you in waves, and with a shaking voice, you mumbled, "Clit. Please, suck on my clit."

"Silence," she whispered, shutting you up in an instant.

She obeyed nonetheless. Her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves while her tongue continued its journey. It was clear that she was being extra careful not to nip you with her teeth, but the tentative behavior only made you want more.

You began to pant, grinding your hips onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open unbeknownst to you, and while she continued to sail you towards an orgasm, one of her eyes bled into an inky blue.

Her efforts ceased, and your eyes opened immediately. It wasn't like you to outwardly pout, but the loss of contact had your lower lip trembling.

When you noticed her eyes, you felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

"Are you alright?" You said breathlessly.

She did not respond.

Her hands gripped your legs in a bruising fashion, and she yanked you into the lake once more.

Instead of drowning, you found yourself being held to her bare chest. She was looking down at you expectantly.

"I want to know what you're feeling, sweet pet."

Her tone was like molasses. Sticky and sultry. You were lost in her, and her gaze did not move from you.

Securing you in her arms, her tail found a home between your legs. As she positioned herself, a few of her scales glided across your cunt, and you moaned into her chest.

A breath was let out by her, and a strangled groan followed.

"Did you - did you feel that?" You searched her neverending pupils for signs of pleasure.

"A mermaid's tail is much more than a vice for swimming, pet. I can feel every contraction, every throb of your pretty pearl. I love it."

She closed her eyes, hugging you tightly while her tail moved back and forth against you. Every few seconds she would go farther out with her movements so that a stray scale would make contact with your clit.

It was as if you were grinding on her except she was holding you, suspended in the foggy lake.

"Miss, please. More. Need more," you begged.

Her tail moved faster. Meanwhile, her lips found yours, kissing you harshly as if to keep you quiet.

Your tongues found each other, swirling before she plunged hers into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning into her mouth as your wetness coated her scaled.

Her heartbeat was increasing, and you were a mess.

"Pet, I am not going to last much longer. Use those pretty legs to move yourself on me. Let us finish together."

She loosened her arms. You used the opportunity to place your hands on her abdomen, grinding yourself faster against her.

"Such a good pet," is all you heard amongst the splashing of the water. The bubbles had returned, and steam rose into the air. You felt the nerves in your pussy throbbing, and you knew that she could feel it, too.

"Let it out, sweet human. Finish for me," she cooed into your ear.

Your legs trembled, and you nearly gave out onto her as your orgasm crashed onto you. Your hand groped her breast, and she placed a shaking palm over yours.

Her tail vibrated, and you heard faint a whimper and whines as she gasped for air. She had cum.

"Keep going. Keep moving. I am almost done," she begged, rocking you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of warmth and wet kisses, you both regained your breathing.

A tail and a set of legs stay intertwined in the sway of the waves, and she guided your hand up towards the moonlight.

The two of you stayed that way, enjoying the frog symphony and the crickets hum. Drifting to the center of the lake as you lay on her belly, watching as her webbed fingers toyed with yours.

"Thank you, sweet human," she said after a while.

You felt like you should be thanking her. After everything that's been happening to you, you finally felt real. You had been seen for the first time in a long time.

"If it is not too much to ask, may I see you again? I am sure there are many more parts of you that I could learn from."

You smiled to yourself.

"As long as I can learn from you as well. I'm sure you've got a ton of stories to tell."

She laughed. You were prepared to ask her about her family, but the familiar sound of tires on asphalt made you both freeze.

Mira and Noah. You had forgotten.

You felt your new companions heartbeat race. Turning to her, you took her cheeks in your hands.

"They're good people, but I understand why you might not want to be seen. I'll come back again tomorrow. This time, I'll bring you a gift."

"A gift?"

"Mhm. Something that you can keep or take to your sisters to show them,"

A few clicks sounded from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to yours.

"Fine, but take care of these legs, sweet human. I do like them very much."

She swam towards the dock with you on her back, shifting to set you on the wooden structure unharmed.

With a wink, she dove into the abyss of Lake Lost, and you heard Mira in the distance.

"Hey! Are you ready to go? Noah saw a park ranger coming this way."

Shit.

"Yeah! I'm coming," you glanced back at the lake, and a shimmer of lavender twinkled not so far away.

"Tomorrow" you thought to yourself.

You could look forward to tomorrow.

[applesaucesims]

After work, Niall took his car a bit further than usual, following Franklin to his home that he shared with Laura. He needed somebody to talk to about his doubts, and Franklin was the one who understood the topic the most of all.

Once inside, Franklin led his friend to a sitting room and lit the fireplace. Niall's eyes immediately jumped to a bottle of whisky that had been placed on a small table in just the right position to have a relaxing night of drinking on the couch. Although he had been trying to stay away from alcohol, Franklin seemed to be making a good point that he could just have a sip or two. Surely that could not cause any issues.

After a number of whisky glasses that Niall had lost count of quite early on, he slowly opened up to Franklin about the worries he had about Louis. He told him about the dream that his son had told him about, and how that had released feelings of doubt he had been pushing away rather than working on them.

As he listened to Franklin's words of encouragement, Niall felt his head getting heavier and the world around him seemed to be getting blurrier by the minute. Suddenly, his body seemed to act on autopilot, and he pulled his friend in for a kiss, just as he was about to turn away from him.

Thankfully, though, Franklin pushed him away immediately. They might have been together like that in the past, but that was all it was - the past. Neither of them actually still had any feelings for the other, and they had moved on a long time ago.

Bringing some distance between them, Niall scooted away in embarrassment. In doing so, his eyes fell to the photograph of Franklin's partner, Maxim, whom he had actually introduced him to, and then, just above, another photograph of himself with Emma, his wife. What was he even doing here? Was it really that easy for him to slip into old habits and make it worse at that? What would she say if she saw him like this now?

[TRANSCRIPT]

Franklin: "So, may I offer you a drink? Let me just light the fireplace."

Niall: "Erm... what sort of drink?"

Franklin: "You still like whisky?"

Niall: "Uhm... technically... but I haven't had one in ages."

Franklin: "Really? I can't imagine."

Niall: "I swear! I haven't had alcohol since... some time after Louis was born?"

Franklin: "Maybe that's why you're so stressed out."

Niall: "I mean... I can't say it isn't."

Franklin: "Right, surely one glass won't kill you. To take the edge off, you know?"

Niall: "Right."

...

Franklin: "So, you're worried because of a dream?"

Niall: "You're gonna tell me it doesn't mean anything, aren't you?"

Franklin: "Maybe not, but either way... That's got nothin' to do with you in the end, does it?"

Niall: *sighs* "I don't know. I guess I just hate to face that part of myself."

Franklin: "You're never gonna find peace that way, Niall."

Niall: "I know. And I love Emma so much, but thinking about this makes me feel like a fraud." *hic*

Franklin: "That's ridiculous. You just like both, and most of all you like her. It's that simple."

Niall: "Easy *hic* for you to say."

Franklin: *laughs* "How are you this drunk already? I need to catch up! Let me just top up my glass and- Mh!"

Franklin: "Niall, stop! What the fuck are you doing!?"

Niall: "I- I don't know."

Franklin: "That's enough drinking for you then."

Niall: "I'm so sorry! I don't know what's come over me!"

Franklin: "You really need to start properly working through this shit. I'll help you if you need me to, but I'm not here for you to fool around with for some distraction."

Niall: "I know, I don't even want that from you. You know this."

Niall: "I'm so stupid! I never should have come here. I tell you, this thing is causing nothing but trouble in my life."

Franklin: "Look, it's fine. Just figure yourself out. Your damned sexual preferences are not the issue here."

Niall: "Right. I'll- I'll try my best. Thanks for the talk."

[kaledya]

Bonjour. Guess who returned!!

I saw your post on how you can't really draw at the moment because of your back, I hope you'll be back at your thing soon ❤️

But to the questions, mainly about side characters:

1) I am curious about Mammon's daughter's character in further detail. Did you come up with a name yet? You said we could compare her to Charlotte from Princess and the frog in her sassiness and general demeanour, but is she really a bad person like her father or is she actually a good girl? How would she react if she found out (unless she knows) how Mammon treats his employees, mainly Fizzarolli (unless his character history changed in Sinners Symphony), for example Mammon threatening Fizz after announcing he's quitting his job? And lastly, what is her relationship with her "cousins" and "uncles/aunties"?

2) I was thinking about Bee's son, mainly about who's the father? I mean, since Beelzebub is currently dating Tex (unless she isn't dating him in Sinners Symphony), is he his father or not? If he isn't (which, Let's be real, I guess he isn't) what does he view him like, unless he doesn't know about him. What is his relationship with his mother like? Depending on the answer to the previous question, who was his real father and where is he now? What did Bee's son think about this? And lastly, do you have a name for him and again, what is his relationship with his "cousins" and "aunt's/uncles"?

3) What else could Belvedere (my precious favourite side OC of yours) do? We know he's a butler, and a good one for sure, and a teacher/nun for the royal offsprings, but where else his capabilities may lay? I doubt this is all he can do, perhaps he is more like Alfred than we thought?

Is the picture above accurate to reality? (Please be true please be true XD)

I just really want to see more of Hell's Alfred Belvedere in the future

4) Recently we have been revealed that there isn't such a fool that would fight Constantine. But let's say there would be a sinner that would be brave enough (or perhaps have nothing to lose?) to stand up against him for their honest opinion, for example speaking out what they think about his cold logic at the expense of his feelings and lack of empathy, and how they disagree with it (let's say based upon their experience in human life), perhaps even mock it. How would he react?

I just hope you'll get alright, and I will continue to watch your career with great interest.

Have a nice day/night, and may we meet again

Richard

Her name is Monet her nickname is Mone (I hate you Mammon) this name meaning wealty protector.

She's truly her father's girl, but

I can't call him completely bad. So let's look at it this way, she is the daughter of a sin and one of the most noble beings in hell. Why would someone like this treat imps well or respect them? Imps are beings located almost in the lowest layer of hell and have short lives. Monet grew up being taught that she was far superior to them In other words, she does not build the sets for evil, she does not think that what she does is wrong.

And in the scene where Fizz swears at mammon and quits, Monet took her father's side

"How dare that imp insult a Sin, even though my Dad spent his precious time for him!?

Monet even goes on stage and tells Fizz this

"I don't know what you think about your relationship with my uncle, but all you have your worthless body, you'll grow old and die, and all that's left will be my poor, heartbroken uncle."

""If you ask me, if you really loved him, you wouldn't put him through this pain."

Monet is really sassy and outspoken, but technically she's telling the truth here. Sins are immortal beings and 50 or 100 years is a very short time for them.And yes, according to Monet, Fizz is a pet. After all, you love your pet very much, but you know that it will die before you.And here Monet really doesn't want her uncle to be sad or heartbroken.Even though Mammon has a bad relationship with Oz, Monet loves her uncle.

After what Monet said, when Oz talks to Monet, Monet thinks, "Did I say something wrong?"So she doesn't realize that what she says is bad.

____

2-His nickname is Wasp

Wasp's father was a hellhound and died of old age a long time ago.Wasp really loved his father and had a good relationship with him.

Wasp considers his mother's relationship with Vortex normal. Bee had not had a relationship for 150 years, and when she became lovers with Vortex, Wasp was happy for his mother.

He's not on bad terms with Vortex, they're not too close.

Bee and Wasp have a really good relationship. Wasp is already very similar to his mother and likes the same things, so they have a very close bond.

He and Charlie are close, kind of like the Wasp, the fun cousin who loves to party.And they both have the same level of high energy,That's why they get along so well.

Wasp and Monet, they love to spend good time together and have fun. So they're really on good terms.

Constantine does not like Wasp's attitude and finds him irresponsible and childish. Wasp likes to get on Constantine's nerves.

Wasp finds the Satan's daughter very serious and boring, and the Satan's daughter finds him annoying. But still, their relationship is not bad, they get together from time to time and spend time.

3- Belveder is Alfred in every sense

He is a great and very strong warrior and also a very knowledgeable person.Someone who has been loyal and served Lucifer for centuries, even when lucifer was at his worst.

Belvedere is someone who gets his strength directly from Lucifer, so he can fight against most nobles without any difficulty if he wants, and he never loses his gentlemanly air while doing so.

He doesn't have a family himself, but he cares for Constantine and Charlie as if they were his own children.

Even though he is a hell born who is not born as a noble race, he is someone who no one will show the slightest disrespect to, thanks to his current position.

4.It is very rare for Constantin to talk to a sinner. He rarely talks even to overlords. The mere thought that a sinner could talk to him is an insult to him; if that sinner shows even the slightest disrespect, he will die right there.

Constantine is the prince of Hell, but he is disgusted with sinners. How dare a sinner come and criticize him?Just for this reason, that sinner crosses his limits.And he gets punished for it.

But if that sinner speaks logically and Constantine thinks they are right, he will not kill him, he will listen the sinner, and if he thinks the sinner is smart enough to deserve an answer, he will answer. So if you're smart and talk logically, chances of survival are higher.

The reason for Constantine's patience and tolerance towards the sinners in the hotel is Charlie, Charlie's presence protects them, especially Alastor. Constantine may be a loving brother to Charlie, but he is very cruel to others.

Have a good day too!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bela + Morning/Aftercare

Not requested, just felt like giving myself a prompt. This was originally just Bela + Morning but my brain kinda shifted it, so oops, guess this technically isn't a one word prompt fill anymore. Features a gender-neutral reader, Bela's implied to be your wife (I don't think I used the word, but y'all have rings), and there's the heavy implication that the two of you fucked the night before (maybe a bit roughly, at that, but she is a vampire lady, so...).

Under read-more for length, at 1200 words.

-----

Always being the first to wake had its perks, at times, even if it often meant overcoming pangs of loneliness. Most mornings have Bela going for a short walk, then perhaps taking care of a few things for her slumbering siblings and mother. Other times she simply used the opportunity to relax in peace. Today was one of the latter days, and for good reason, her body still pressed tightly against you, the soft blanket your only protection from the cool morning air.

Last night had been… eventful, for the two of you. Undoubtedly you would eventually awaken to find yourself sore, perhaps with a few light bruises, but with the bite on your shoulder freshly bandaged. Bela never neglected aftercare. Most of it had occurred before you fell asleep, of course, some tasks simply bear repeating now.

Carefully, slowly, Bela untangles herself from the sheets, leaving a gentle kiss on your brow when you instinctively reach out for her. All the air in her lungs becomes pointless at the sight of your sleeping smile. Even in the depths of your dreams, her touch was something to savor, a source of great comfort. Bearing a grin of her own, she forces herself to turn towards the ensuite. She’d get to admire you plenty while taking care of your scratches.

Glancing down at her nails, she can’t help but pause, inspecting the dried blood under the edge. Perhaps her grip on your back had been tighter than she remembered. Making a mental note to grab some soothing salve from the cupboard, she quickly cleans up by the sink. It’s not thorough, mostly just taming her hair and washing off the aforementioned dried blood, but she fully intended to save her bath for when you can join her.

By the time she returns to bed, you’ve started to stir. Briefly, your eyes open, squinting up at your beloved, and you offer her a meek murmur for a greeting. With the way you look at her, but don’t quite see her, Bela can only assume that you aren’t truly awake yet. Allowing herself a chuckle, she sets up her medkit next to your weary form. Ever so gently she sets about removing the temporary bandage from your shoulder. Instantly the scent of dried blood hits her, making her dizzy for a split second, and she looks at your bite marks with both pride and desire.

Part of her is eager to bite again, to further mark you as her own. But she quashes those instincts, suppresses them, knowing that there is no need to be so possessive. Not only are you loyal in your affections, the ring on your finger makes it clear to others that you are her partner. When she leans in close, it is not to reopen wounds. Instead, she allows herself a single, slow lick. Not much comes from it, the metallic taste less strong than she preferred, yet it still sends a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

“My sweet darling,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before beginning to dab a wet cloth against the bite. Each touch is gentle, soothing, only barely enough pressure to clean the dried blood. Bela begins humming one of her mother’s songs as she works. It’s a light melody, flowing and curling around itself, that fills the air with a pleasant buzz. “There we go, much better,” she speaks, applying an antibacterial cream, continuing her humming until the bandage is in place.

At last, you stir further, blinking up at her with growing awareness. Something warm blossoms in Bela’s chest when she sees how quickly you light up at the sight of her. Immediately your hands are reaching for her, wanting to cup her face or intertwine your fingers with hers. The first she allows, the latter she pulls back from, making a clear display of wiping her hands off on a spare cloth. No need to get medicine all over your hand. With the way you pout, she wants nothing more than to kiss you until you’re both desperate for air.

“Soon, draga mea, let me finish tending your wounds, understood?” Bela says, taking on a playfully stern tone. Although it takes a moment for you to process her words, having forgotten the ache of your body until now, your pout soon subsides. Then you cautiously shift, allowing her easier access to the pattern work of scratches across your back. “Very good.” This time her voice is more intimate, reminiscent of the night before, sending blood rushing to your cheeks. Once more she kisses your skin, this time where the back of your neck meets your shoulder.

“I love you,” you murmur, voice muffled by the pillow you cling to. Naturally, it’s the same pillow that Bela had been laying against half an hour ago. Your own was pushed off to the side, forgotten, teetering dangerously close to the mattress’ edge. The sight amuses Bela, and she has to stifle a chuckle, lest you think she’s laughing at your affection instead.

“And I love you. Now hold still, this may sting but for a moment, then the pain will fade,” she explains, a smile evident in the curl of her words. She waits for you to give a hum of acknowledgment before beginning to rub the salve into the skin of your back. True to her word, it has a slight burn, but it’s not enough to make you wince or whimper. Compared to the pain you gladly endured for her love-bites, this was hardly even a nuisance. If anything… the feeling of Bela’s touch, the gentle kneading of your flesh, is rather pleasant. Of course she notices, and leans down to murmur something teasing in Romanian.

Even if you don’t understand the specifics, you get the gist, and once again feel heat rushing to your face. This time Bela does not try to hide her laughter, the sound almost lilting. It’s bright. Warm. Entirely perfect, just as she is to you.

A few minutes pass, far too quickly for your liking, before you hear the sound of the medicinal jar closing with a satisfying click. For a moment, Bela makes no move. It’s not until you try to turn to look at her that she shifts, a hand on your shoulder keeping you down, the feeling of her breath fanning against your neck making you freeze. Pleased with your obedience, Bela releases you with a soft hum. Then she slips into bed next to you, in a familiar position, gesturing for you to lay on top of her.

“Come closer, draga mea, let me savor your warmth while the salve does its job. We can bathe once the medicine is absorbed,” Bela explains, and you start obeying before she even finishes speaking. As you curl against her, ensuring your back remains off of the bed, she quickly glances at the clock. Good, she muses, still plenty of time before breakfast. 

Yes, there are many perks to being such an early riser. The grandest of which is that she can enjoy this time with you, her duties fulfilled, her only work left to care and cherish her darling.

[nocturnalazure]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

I've been kindly tagged by @anamoon63 (thank you, dear ❤️) for answering this questionnaire on Ralph!

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

People dying because of him. Either because he would cause their death, or because he wouldn't be able to protect them.

Do they have any pet peeves?

Littering and cruelty to animals. Cruelty to any living thing, actually.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

A lot of mess because Ralph is a messy guy, a backpack with more mess inside that he carries around everywhere he goes, and a collection of maps (he loves them, he's never made the switch to technology).

What do they notice first in a person?

Their smell. Even as a human, that's what stands out the most. If he turns into his werewolf form, or if he knows the person quite well, he's able to deduct a person's state of mind just based on what they smell like.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

It's a 10 for Ralph. Werewolf transformation is incredibly painful. But once he's in that state, he barely registers pain.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight, it's not even an option. Under threat (or what his body identifies as such), he automatically turns into a werewolf.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

We don't know anything about Ralph's family. They're all long dead anyway. When we met him first, he was living by himself in Moonlight Falls. He's a loner, and has lived most of his life alone. Starting a family was never Ralph's objective. He would be afraid to pass on his curse. That being said, he also has a pack instinct and being alone for too long in the past made him depressed and aggressive. In the end, he needs to be part of a community. He deeply cares for those around him, so in that sense he'd make a good family head.

What animal represents them best?

A WOLF, DUH. 🐺

What is a smell that they dislike?

Vinegar. And of course, that's what Bonehilda cleans the house with.

Have they broken any bones?

He broke his arm a long time ago when he was still working as a truck unloader (that was before his curse).

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Gruff and unsophisticated. :D But with kind eyes.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Both, actually. He likes getting up early but he can also stay up late. As a werewolf, he never feels the need to sleep.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

His tongue is very sensitive, so he doesn't like acidic and spicy foods. What he really can't get enough of is meat (particularly bbq).

Do they have any hobbies?

He's good with manual work, like tinkering and DIY. Not particularly a hobby but he likes the feeling of being useful. He also loves camping and hiking.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

The only person who'd throw him a party would be Pippa and she knows it would have to be a small group. Ralph would be a bit self-conscious, but happy. It'd be a good reminder that he's got friends now.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Technically, no. But he would if it meant something special to him.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

It's a tiny scrawl, totally illegible by anyone but himself. He applies a lot of pressure to the paper.

What are two emotions they feel the most?

Loneliness/solitude: it can be a sort of harmony with the rest of the universe when he's alone and in nature, but it can also be very sad when he's forced to avoid people.

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Fleece.

What kind of accent do they have?

I'm very bad at accents. I imagine something close to Scottish?

Tagging @danjaley, @kimmiessimmies, @nekrophoria and @eljeebee!

[hectorthedoggo]

i made a little oneshot with fugue es and enyu interacting. it's goofy and unedited but i don't wanna to edit it now so i'll just post it here :D

The warden woke up in an unfamiliar environment: the woods.

They shot up, whipping their head around. Where’s Milgram? Where-

They were met with the curious gaze of… themself? Who is imitating me?

Their outfit was different, though; it was a vest, and the cape had little pinpricks of stars. “Who are you?”

They flinched back at their confrontation, voice weak. “Ah! Uhm… my name is Es?”

Ah, that name suits them a lot better than me. “I am the warden of Milgram.”

“Milgram?” The kid who owned their former name brightened, tilting their head. “Like the psychological experiment? Y’know, that wasn’t illegal. Do you think it should have been? Wait, do you deal with things like law?”

The warden narrowed their eyes. This one’s a yapper.

However, as they analyzed the kid, their expression melted off. “Sorry, I talk too much.” Wait, is this kid supposed to be like us? I don’t appreciate it.

They stared further at Es. “Where are you from?” Wait, how are we going to interact with this person? They’re not a prisoner. What are we supposed to do?

I guess respect would be a good idea. But, what would normal be?

I have no idea. I’ll just try my best. Maybe I’ll try to act like I did in the first trial.

They smiled, nervously. “Ah, I usually live with my guardian. I got lost, though. I got moved by Kotoko, and couldn’t find my way back.”

“Wait, you know Kotoko?” Is there an overlap here? I don’t think this pathetic kid could be a good stand-in for us, though. Why aren’t they a warden?

Is there no Milgram here? Shoot, we don’t belong here. I’ll just act normal, but we’ll get home soon. I just have to not worry. We’ll be alright.

The possibility was scary, and scarily true. This Es doesn’t know Milgram… How do they live? Wait, they do look a little lost. 

“Yeah, she’s… persistent.”

This made the warden laugh a little. “No, she’s annoyingly persistent, isn’t she?” Like that time.

Es’ eyes lit up. “Yes! You get it! I told her: ‘get out of my house’, and she said: ‘no you’re abused’ or some stuff like that, and literally kidnapped me.”

“And you let that happen? Wait, is there no protective barrier?”

“No…”

The warden shook their head, in disapproval. “You know, as warden, we can have a protective barrier, against prisoners like her. We aren’t pushed around by the prisoners.”

Es looked intrigued.

“Being a warden? I mean, if Jackalope told me to be a warden, I would. Otherwise, he would say something like, ‘it’s too dangerous, you shouldn’t be doing something like that.’ I mean, he’s just worried about me.”

Their excitement fizzled out, and then they shook their head. “Wait, are you technically me? Cause, I mean, Jackalope said I shouldn’t interact with humans without permission, but he said that I was the exception for humans. So…”

The warden was more interested in the other part of their sentence. “Jackalope? I mean, I guess we could be considered the same person, but you have Jackalope, too?”

Es nodded, doing some 4d chess with multi-dimensional time travel to justify talking to them. “Yeah! Isn’t he such a good guardian?”

“I mean, for me, he usually disappears for a week or more, no notice. It’s annoying.” Especially when the other me has doubts or something. I bet they would still be into Milgram if he affirmed their loyalty.

I think he’s annoying, but he’s part of Milgram, so my loyalty must be to him.

“Well, mine’s better, worry not! He’s only gone for a day, at most. When he comes back, he’s apologetic, and he’s usually nicer to me after it.”

Wait, was that why Kotoko got them out? That’s a lame reason. I guess she’s just been dramatic.

I mean, we also don’t have anyone to take care of us, so I guess that behavior is justified, because Milgram leaves me alone too. 

Well, that’s because we have a responsibility to uphold, and Milgram thinks we’re responsible enough.

I’m assuming we’re the same age, so we’re both pretty self-sufficient. I think. Alright, so Jackalope seems like he’s a lot better in this place.

Es’ hands moved to warm up their arms, a comforting motion all too familiar to the warden. Wait, so should I be allowed to get attached to them?

I mean, it won’t be a long-term amount of time, so I guess they wouldn’t be a distraction…

They both had an idea of what was up with the other, of their unaddressed problems and delusions.

The warden got up, and abruptly gave Es a hug. Neither of them were sure why. They flinched momentarily, then awkwardly tried to hug back.

Both of them didn’t know how to hug. In any way. But, they both tried.

Es lightly latched onto them like a tick, and the warden lightly held them back. Hey, but this is nice. I can indulge myself once in a while.

They couldn’t see Es’ face.

Eventually, the warden detached Es from them. “Alright, Es. Do you think you could help me go back to Milgram?”

Es shrugged, like they didn’t just have a moment. “Honestly, all I want to do is get back to my tower. I really would want to help you, but I don’t know my way around the woods. I’d get lost.”

The warden nodded. “Alright. I guess we could wait for help.”

As if cued by the word ‘help’, the tent that the warden didn’t register earlier popped open, Shidou Kirisaki popping his head out. “Es, do you…” 

He trailed off when he saw the warden.

What? He’s here? “I can’t escape you, can’t I, you murderer.”

Shidou blinked, completely confused. “Uh… Es? Uhm, why is there another you here? I’m not mad, don’t worry, but did you tell them I was a murderer.”

Is he disregarding my presence?

Es shook their head. “No, they’re from another place or something. I mean, they have another Kotoko there, so I’m assuming there’s another Shidou there. And they’re not me, they’re the warden.”

The warden’s respect for this kid increased. They haven’t even seen us in action, but they respect our place as warden!

Shidou’s eyebags somehow got more pronounced. “Alright, so there’s two of you now…”

The warden wasn’t letting him off the hook easily. “So, judging by your reaction, you are a murderer. Why aren’t you in prison?”

“I- long story, but be assured, I won’t kill you. Uh, do you mind if I look at your hand?” He reached out to them. I’m not worried about that- wait, there’s no protection.

The warden defensively moved it to their chest. “I do mind. Get away from me, prisoner.”

However, the title didn’t hold any meaning here. He wasn’t a prisoner, and they weren’t considered a warden. 

I’m sure it’s alright. We’ll be fine, we just need to get back to Milgram, I’m sure we’ll be fine after that.

He moved towards them. “That looks really bad, though, so we should really get that cleaned out.”

The warden moved their hand to slap him, then remembered he technically wasn’t a prisoner. He, or maybe the others, could retaliate. I’m not sure if this man is still a pacifist here. 

“Fuck.” They swore. He can’t-

“Language.”

The warden realized that they might have to become a prisoner pretty soon due to his audacity.

Es watched this drama go down, not sure which side to take. They decided to try to stop it. “Okay… uh, warden, assault is illegal.”

Wait, they’re right. Fuck.

The warden turned to Es. “Is there anywhere we could go to get away from this man?”

Es grinned, and Shidou turned to them. “Woah, woah, Es, let’s not climb, do you remember what happened last time?”

It was too late. Es guided the warden over towards a tree, and said, “Follow me!”

Wait, I thought they said they didn’t know their way around the woods, so…

They took off their cape, and clambered up the tree. What in Milgram. “Up here, friend!” Up there? I’d have to take off my cape, and I don’t know how to climb.

They shook their head. “I can’t go up there. I can’t climb.”

“Es… oh my god.” Shidou looked exasperated, but sighed. “If it brings you joy. But, make sure to come to me for healing if you fall. Other Es, are you sure I can’t look at your hand? I can take away the pain.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language.”

This man wasn’t going to live to see the light of day tomorrow.

[halogalopaghost]

I'm not doing nanowrimo because 1: I work retail and 2: im not fucking insane but i DID just reread my 2017 nano project and i may be pondering a draft 2 🤔

[sysig]

Kissing Strangers 💋 (Patreon)