#Skunky mischief

[witchyskunkrulez]

As a scientist and a scholar, I would like to buy one of your potions for experimentation. Rest assured, all research notes and experiment logs will be shared with you.

~ @thetruescholar

* the female skunk regards you with slight suspicion * " I suppose that could be possible..... How much are you willin' to pay? "

[witchyskunkrulez]

” Well, I’ve always wanted a cute lab partner~ “ * Salem chuckles, their tail flicking*

Happy pride month!!! *Makes an Indigo Park OC just to make them kiss the non binary skunk*

This is a half joke, I also thought it would be fun to have a possum character as the game has a raccoon and a skunk

Btw check out the first chapter of this game if you like mascot horror, this one is REALLY GOOD!

[lovebugism]

smutty requests you say... maybe eddie x reader fooling around secretly, while wayne's home? so like a little exhibitionism kink?

i'm just now realizing i totally misread the prompt so pls forgive me anon, i'll happily write a part 2 to this if u want!! — the first time uncle wayne catches you and eddie in the act™ (established relationship, inspired by this universe, smut 18+ | 1.3k)

“Alright. I’m headed out,” Wayne announces in a gravelly drawl, huffing as he rises from his creaking recliner. His work boots sound heavy on the worn carpet as he trudges towards the front door, closer to a wretched and unavoidable graveyard shift. His old bones are weighed down by a preemptive dread and a homemade meal you cooked with him in mind.

Eddie feels bad for being so happy to see him leave.

“Have fun,” the boy lilts playfully from where he’s sprawled along the couch, smiling wide with his head tilted to his shoulder.

Wayne grumbles vaguely in response.

“Bye, Mr. Munson,” you grin more sincerely than the boy beside you.

The man flashes you a mere hint of a grin, which is a whole lot more than most people get these days. He pulls a worn baseball cap over his balding head and nods once in your direction. “Bye, sweetpea,” he responds in his usual gritty and melodic Southern cadence.

The rusted hinges of the screen door squeal open and shut behind him. A wintery breeze billows in, briefly piercing the heated trailer and biting at Eddie’s burning skin. 

You idle on the other side of the couch, with your eyes drawn to the sitcom playing in static colors ahead of you — unaware of your boy’s building desire and far too distant for his liking. Eddie marvels at your profile, unabashed and boyish, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

He hears Wayne’s truck door close with a muffled thud. The ignition rattles for a moment, then roars when amber headlights shine suddenly through the sheer curtains. Eddie waits until he hears the tires crunch against the gravel drive before he pounces on you, like unsuspecting prey to a predator of unbridled longing.

You squeal when his mouth locks suddenly with your pulse, warm and wet on your unkissed skin. He wraps you in his arms like he intends to smother you against him. You swear you can feel his heart racing against your shoulder. His tongue darts along the most sensitive spot on your neck, and your head tips back with an airy laugh.

“What?” Eddie mumbles, muffled into your skin.

“Nothing,” you giggle. “Just thought you’d last longer than that.”

“Hm. Feel like I’ve heard that one before.”

“Shut up,” you gripe, but pull him impossibly closer just the same.

You bury your nose in his wild curls, inhaling the sweet scent of his conditioner and the subtle skunky smell of weed. He mouths at your neck with an intentional sloppiness that makes your eyes flutter.

Eddie grumbles a moan against your skin, which you feel in little tingles in the pit of your stomach. “You taste good,” the boy observes mindlessly into your pulse.

“I taste like sweat,” you scoff against his temple. “I still need to shower.”

“What’s the point? You’re just gonna get dirty again.”

Eddie pulls away with a soft smack. His lips are rosy and softly swollen as they curl into a grin. His chocolate eyes swim with mischief as yours narrow into a squint. “You’re such a boy,” you deadpan.

“Just love you,” the boy shrugs. “That’s all.”

You’re grateful when his lips finally meet yours. You’re only able to breathe when he’s kissing you, in a heavy exhale through your nose that fans along his cupid’s bow. He licks into your mouth tasting like a homecooked meal and nicotine and boy. Something foreign and nostalgic and tender. You melt into him accordingly. 

When he urges you to lay back against the couch, you let him. You cradle his face in your hands to keep him close as he props himself on his forearms, careful not to crush you despite his efforts to kiss the breath from your lungs. His weight is a comforting one anyway — body warm and lean and pleasantly heavy on top of yours.

You forget to take another breath until Eddie pulls away. You inhale deeply, lungs grateful for air, as the boy’s mouth treks down your jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collarbone, spit cooling and drying again on your skin. Goosebumps pebble in their wake, while his hand slides down your stomach.

His fingertips creep into the waistline of your pajama pants, perhaps a fruitless distraction from the lovebite he sucks just below your jaw. It’s a burning sensation of his teeth, followed by a warmer, more pleasant one as his tongue smooths over the bite.

“What are you? A vampire?” you giggle, fingers twisting in his hair.

You feel his smile curl into your neck. “Maybe,” he quips.

“I have to go leave eventually. You know that, right? And my roommates will freak if they see a hickey.”

Eddie whines between his kisses. “No, you don’t,” he insists with an audible frown. “Why can’t you just stay here forever?”

“Even if I wanted to, Wayne would still see. And that would be equally as horrifying.”

“He won’t be back until morning,” Eddie argues, punctuated by his teeth scraping your pulse. “It’ll be faded by then. Probably.” He licks over the bite and pulls away, peering down at you with a mischievous leer. “Unless… You want me to stop?” he offers in a sarcastic lilt.

You squirm under his gaze. “No…” you answer sheepishly.

He grins. “Then stop complaining, sweet thing.”

“Eddie,” you scold when the boy ducks down again, continuing his assault on your delicate skin, though you make no further attempt to stop him.

His kisses grow wetter and warmer and more languid as his hand travels down down down. A breathy moan catches in your throat when his calloused palm cups your bare pussy.

The damp, velvet feeling of you makes Eddie’s eyes widen. He didn’t know you’d be naked down there. He might’ve been more careful about it if he had.

“Shit,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you squeak, face swirled apologetically.

Eddie pulls away again, head spinning as he stares down at you with heavy eyes. “No— Don’t— Don’t apologize for that shit, are you kidding?” he stammers, then laughs at how sorrowful you look. Like this could ever be a bad thing. “It’s hot.”

You smile sheepishly. “I’m just running out of clean clothes. That’s why I had to do the laundry today.”

“Well, next time, I’m just gonna lock the door to the washer,” Eddie retorts playfully. “So then you have to walk around naked.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a boy,” you repeat, right before you drag him down by his shoulders to swallow him in another kiss.

You lick into his mouth only to find that his hand had never wavered. He cups you delicately there still, and creeps his middle finger between your satiny folds. 

Your hips buck on instinct. His palm bumps your clit. Your moans entwine in a kiss.

The screen door opens again with another grating screech. You and Eddie part instantly, swollen mouths smacking as your heads turn in sync.

Wayne stills in the doorway, weathered face swirled in horror. Neither of you move for several long moments — like, if you stay still, you’ll turn invisible somehow.

“Really?” Wayne huffs. “On the couch?”

Eddie’s wide eyes dart awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” he wonders breathlessly, still on top of you and still with his hand down your pants.

“Forgot my damn wallet.” Wayne keeps his gaze averted as he trudges to the tiny, square dining table by the window. He tucks the leather billfold into the pocket of his navy jumpsuit and promptly returns the way he came.

You and Eddie spare a wordless look of horror between you in the meanwhile.

“Do it in a bed next time, alright?” Wayne advises from the doorway with his back facing you. The rusted door creaks open and, just before it shuts behind him, you hear him shout. “And use protection!”

[purplolart]

Uhh how about 🐶 and 🐾 for the ask meme?

🐶 - Opinion on Patton?

I think Patton is a really good representation of the heart, emotional and complicated. He’s shown himself to be witty and more clever than we give him credit for! He’s always a clean laugh, even if there are many times he makes me cringe so so much. However, that doesn’t mean that he’s without his faults. He can get fairly annoying, and still hides a lot from Thomas until coaxed to show it. Heck, until fairly recently it seemed like no one was giving Patton time to make his cases, or even listen to him (tho I think that is something they all struggle with). I do like the direction they’ve taken him in the most recent episodes, changing his “only good” core and making it more complicated than before. (The frog... I just can’t even begin to describe the feelings that made me feel)

I get compared to him quite a lot irl, so I tend to point out the flaws in him more often then not. But I do like his character, it’s a sigh of relief to see our bubbly bud, and I hope to see him more openly ambiguous as it goes on.

🐾 - What pet do you think each of the sides would have?

Ooh, good question!

I think it’s easiest to say that Virgil has a tarantula, but I find that odd if Thomas is afraid of spiders... I think a reptilian friend would also be cute because of their supposed low maintenance, my personal picks for him would be a bearded dragon, a turtle/tortoise, or maybe a little ball python. But why stop at average pets when it’d be just as cute to see him snuggling with a raccoon or possum? Maybe the earned trust of a skunk would boost his confidence as it nuzzles into his neck (plus a skunky companion could prove well at keeping Roman from TOUCHING HIS FUCKING STUFF AND-!)

Logan probably isn’t a pet person, but I think if he had to have a companion, it’d be those at home ant colonies, some pure white rats, or an aquarium full of saltwater fish. He’s convincing himself that it’s purely to study them, but then he’s angrily grumbling at Mitochondria for getting into a fight with Supernova and suddenly realizes he has children. Or perhaps he’d have a well trained Blue Macaw on his shoulder, and hearing some of the facts he’s said spouted back to him just makes his day that at least someone is listening to him.

I think it’s fair to assume Patton would have as many dogs as he could handle, but given our most recent episode, it would be cute to see a couple frogs hopping on his shoulder. Of course he would have cats as well, but probably just the Hypoallergenic ones. And pigs! We can’t forget that he’d have cute little fuzzy pigs! And ferrets, behold his living slinkey babies! And mice and birds and cows and-! You know what, let’s just give him a barn so he can have all of them.

Roman is not one to stop at normal pets (despite the few cats that still manage to ooze out of his drawer space when he’s not paying attention). Assuming they have to be real animals, he’d probably be seen accompanied by a bright red fox by his calves, and an enormous wolf and tiger at his hips. But why stop there? The more esentric the better! So of course Virgil had more than just a heart attack when Princy decided A LITTERAL FIREBREATHING DRAGON RESTING ITS HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER, AND A GOD DAMMNED COCKATRICE ON HIS LAP were the best pets to be with him as he ate his cereal. (He had to stop bringing Lord Guenivere and Lady Aurthur into the livingroom after that day, especially since Aurthur had turned Logan to stone for an hour to two)

Remus is just as - if not more so - an ecsentric pet person like his twin. Of course his choices are a bit more extreme than his brothers. He has a special place in his heart for sea creatures, and uses his powers to have his octopus, cuddle fish, angler, giant sea worm, and A LITERAL GODDAMN SHARK to be roaming around his room without the need for water (they float around now, but Remus was laughing for 20 minutes straight just seeing them flop around at first). The ones he brings out of his room, he calls his strays, and they are literal abominations of science. He has an army of rats that have been tested on and mangled in some way, and he gives them all so much well-deserved love. That doesn’t mean that your pet that glows in the dark or has a human ear on its back isnt creepy, especially during movie night REMUS! WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THOSE DISEASE CARRYING BASTARDS CRAWLING UNDER YOUR SLEEVES, REMUS-?!

Lastly Janus, our pretty snake boi. Yes of course he would have snakes, why would he have anything else? He’s not hiding anything, he absolutely adores being pinned as a one type pet kind of guy. Like listen, just cause he’s currently lounging with his ungodly long Burmese python, doesn’t mean that it’s all he’s interested in. In all honesty, he probably loves his chameleon chum just as much as he does his cold blooded brother. He just finds it soothing to see someone else changing their looks up, even if that’s gotten them into a handful of mischief that sends Janus looking for them for hours. He also semi adopts Remus’ color changing pets at times, because watching the cuddle fish and his chameleon having a camouflage-off is more than entertaining.

Oof this got longer than I thought it would.

Sanders Sides Ask Meme

[kruideniers]

Jehan Prouvaire is sitting in an empty bathtub smoking out of an enormous clear glass bong.

It’s Tuesday. The bathroom is the only room in the apartment well ventilated enough that the neighbors don’t complain when he smokes; it feels juvenile, but it will have to do.

Prouvaire cannot afford to get evicted again.

A Joy Division song plays tinnily from a cracked cell phone balanced precariously on the edge of the counter, haphazard between a tube of toothpaste, and nail clippers, and bottles of facial cleanser, and a stack of battered play scripts, for some reason. Montparnasse sits on the floor with his back to the door, and he’d like to ask himself how he got here: here smoking marijuana in a cramped bathroom like they’re teenagers again, effectively sitting at the feet of someone so strange, who’s dressed so badly - in pantyhose and an Insane Clown Posse t-shirt, three sizes too big on his bony frame.

He’d like to ask himself how, but they both already know.

Jehan Prouvaire is beautiful.

Jehan Prouvaire is beautiful and all the other adjectives in his poetry chapbooks and Jehan Prouvaire has got Montparnasse by the balls; like a vice; like every cliche in the book and then some.

A slender leg hangs over the edge of the bathtub, bare except for the sheer black pantyhose. The crappy stick-and-poke tattoos on Prouvaire’s calf and ankle are visible; his toenails are painted black, and chipped. He exhales sticky-sweet, skunky smoke into the air between them and hands the bong to Montparnasse with a pale, freckled hand.

Montparnasse pretends to ignore the subtle eroticism of it all; pretends he’s not powerless in the dynamic that’s at work here.

“Can I ask you a question?” Prouvaire asks, breaking the comfortable silence they’ve been sharing with Ian Curtis. He drags his foot slowly across the leopard print bath mat barely disguising the cracks in the linoleum floor.

“Okay,” Montparnasse says, inhaling deeply. He closes his amber eyes.

“You don’t have to answer, I guess. But like - uh. Hmm.” Prouvaire, eloquent and infuriatingly well-spoken even at the worst and most intoxicated times is rarely at a loss for words. He bites his chapped bottom lip.

“Spit it out,” Montparnasse says, ever delicate and sensitive to the needs of others. His eyes are still closed.

“Were you always comfortable with your gender identity?” Prouvaire asks. “I mean - did you always feel like you had the right language for it?”

“What?” Montparnasse asks. He opens his eyes and hits the bong again. His black eyeliner is smudged. “I don’t know. I was a poor, dumb kid growing up on the South side. I didn’t have the language for anything. I don’t think it was comfortable - I just knew I was a boy, and everyone else had to live with it as much as I did.”

He doesn’t know why he’s revealing this part of himself to Prouvaire, except that he had asked. Prouvaire brushes his fingers, reaching for the bong, electric.

Montparnasse inhales again, clean air this time, and counts slowly inside his head: One, two, three…

Prouvaire looks regal in the bathtub, despite the holey Insane Clown Posse t-shirt and the drug paraphernalia. His long strawberry blonde hair is piled on top of his head and his wet, glassy eyes are faraway, lost in thought. He breathes out smoke like a dragon.

“Why do you ask?” Montparnasse says finally, and it mostly doesn’t come out as a croak. “You’re one to talk about comfort,” he dares. “You always seem so comfortable with everything.”

Prouvaire hums softly. He holds the bong reverently; stares into the dirty water at the bottom as if it might possibly hold all the answers. “I don’t know,” he says. “I suppose there’s always comfort to be found, even in chaos.”

His cracked iPhone is playing a Bauhaus song now.

Then he says: “I don’t think I have a gender. I don’t think I ever have.”

“Okay,” Montparnasse says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it really matters. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about, I suppose.”

“It only matters as much as you want it to matter, I guess,” Montparnasse says, feeling ineloquent and inadequate. Surely one of Prouvaire’s faux-impoverished intellectual friends from the punk house is more well-versed in queer theory and more well-suited to be having this conversation than he is.

(But Prouvaire is sharing this with him, and Montparnasse won’t dwell on what that means any more than he won’t dwell on the soft scritch of Prouvaire’s pantyhose still scraping against the bath mat.)

“That’s true, isn’t it? Things only ever have as much meaning as we ascribe to them.”

Then:

There is a sharp knock on the bathroom door.

“Will you come out, please?” asks Prouvaire’s roommate, Combeferre. “I need to get ready for my meeting.”

Montparnasse scrubs a hand through his artfully messy black hair. “A prayer meeting?” He asks, arching his eyebrows exaggeratedly at Prouvaire, who stifles a laugh with their bony fingers.

“A PSL meeting,” Combeferre says evenly, their voice tinged around the edges with annoyance and their apparent distaste for Montparnasse. “Please?”

“Just a minute,” Prouvaire calls. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, but the look on his face is mostly fond. He sets the bong down next to the bathtub and stretches luxuriously.

“Well,” he says, softer now. “Thanks for listening to me.” 

He pauses. 

“Do you want to have sex?”

“You’re not going to the prayer meeting?” Montparnasse asks stupidly, mouth dry.

“Not this one. I’m an anarchist, not a communist.” There is a glint of mischief in his watery, bloodshot eyes. “I asked you a question: do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes,” Montparnasse says, equally as stupid as before. “Yes, I do.”

“Get up,” Prouvaire tells him, and Montparnasse complies; will always comply. 

He brushes dust and hair off of his designer jeans, and helps Prouvaire out of the bathtub.

[witchyskunkrulez]

” Fond of me, huh? I suppose I don’t mind~ “ *Salem grins in a mischievous and maybe even dangerous way*

I drew the pretty skunk potion lady. Do you like her? I like her.

[stilinski-jpeg]

Wrong Loves My Company Pt 3

A/N: I know. This is long over due. But I’m back baby for real this time. There will be a few more parts to this so hold on tight. I’m a little rusty so bare with me. But yeah, that’s it ((: I'll insert the other parts to this when I get home.

Warning: smut

Word Count: 4064

As I pulled up to the apartment complex, I gave myself one more pep talk. I reminded myself who I was with and all of the reasons why I liked him. Although my thoughts did wonder to Dylan only handful of times, I was happy to know that I’d be spending all my time with Tyler.

I put the gearshift into park, and reached over my seat to grab my overnight bag. I’d stopped by my house just before heading over to the boys’ apartment to pick up a few things. I figured I’d be spending the whole weekend, so I packed extra. Some of those extra things included sexy lingerie that I was excited to tease Tyler with. I smiled to myself, imagining his wide toothy smile when I pranced around his bedroom in the barely there pieces.

Finally, I opened my door (bag in hand) and stepped out into the parking lot. That’s when the smell hit me. I didn’t know the smell well, but the piney, skunky smell was distinguishable enough. The building was big and there were mostly old people that lived here, so it wasn’t hard to guess which living quarters it was coming from.

The smell only grew in potency as I approached their door. I didn’t know if their devil’s lettuce was just that strong or they’d been smoking a lot of it; either way it would be interesting to see what I walked into. I rapped on the door, and waited. I couldn’t hear anything inside, no movement or sound. They were home, I’d parked next to Tyler’s car and passed Dylan’s on the way in. So, I knocked again.

Nothing.

I sighed, bending down and lifting the welcome mat. There lay a single silver key that unlocked their door. I’d warned Tyler countless times that this was a terrible place to hide a key, but he always laughed and said, “It’s not terrible, it’s unexpected. It’s so obvious that no one would think to look there.” I chuckled to myself thinking of the memory as I picked up the key and placed the mat back down. Sometimes I worried about how oblivious that boy was.

I nudged the key into the lock, feeling the locks give way, and opened the door. I was greeted with a cloud of smoke, blinding me momentarily. I stepped in, swatting the smoke away. It was amazing the amount of smoke that was in their apartment. It was like a thick fog clouding every inch of the room. There were no lights on except from the tv that Tyler and Dylan were sitting in front of. They looked like zombies, barely blinking as the pixels flicked from picture to picture. They were thoroughly disheveled, hair tousled and faces slack. Tyler was wearing a grey band t shirt and green plaid boxers. Dylan, was shirtless once again in the same grey sweatpants from earlier but with the hat from last night. Something about their appearance suggested they have done this all day. I drop my bag on the floor, hoping that would gain their attention to no effect.

“Hello!” I said finally, waving my hands at the pair.

They rolled their head slowing to look at me, like the zombies that they were. It was hard to stifle my laugh at the delayed reaction to my presence. Tyler’s eyes lit up, a wide smile growing on his face. Dylan wore that stupid smirk of his, the one that made my heart beat a little fast. His eyes were lazy and were barely making eye contact. Neither one got up to greet me, they stayed glued to their couch cushions.

“Hi guys! What’s-uh- what’s going on?” I questioned, nodding over to the bowl packed with weed and lighter on the end table by Tyler.

“Chillin.” Tyler chuckled, gesturing around to nothing in particular.

“I see that.” I laughed.

“We were going to make breakfast in a sec.” Dylan responded, and it was than that I realize he was still looking at me with that annoyingly sexy smirk and those glossy eyes.

“It’s like 7:30 pm right now.” I laughed again.

They looked at me in completely astonishment . Like I’d just told them that the moon really was made of cheese. That look was quickly changed with one of sadness. They’d probably hadn’t eaten all day, and this thought made me shake my head.

“I’ll order some pizza.” I sighed, digging in my pocket for my phone.

“Yes!” They cheered in unison.

I rolled my eyes as I dialed the number to our usual pizza place. As it rang, I was distracted by a conversation the two boys were having behind me. I’d walked into the kitchen, to get away from the noise of the T.V.

“God! She has a nice ass.” Tyler announced. He said it like it was suppose to be a whisper, but it came out much louder.

“Yeah,” Dylan added. “She does.”

“Dude!” Tyler chuckled, and I heard him hit Dylan. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Oh right! Sorry bro.” Dylan apologised, sounding a little distracted.

“Hello!” The voice in my ear hollered.

“Oh. Hi, can I have two large supreme pizzas?” I ordered, trying to get my brain back on track.

I threw my phone in my bag as I walked back over to the boys that were back to dumbly staring at the television again. I shook my head, not even bothering to announce that the pizza would take a little longer than usual because it was a Friday night. They wouldn’t notice anyway, I thought. I plopped down in the limited space between them, barely catching their attention. I looked over at Tyler who started laughing at something the little purple dog did on the show. The whole right side of my body was pushed up against his but he didn’t seem to notice. I frowned, slightly frustrated by the little amount of attention I was receiving. When he finally did move, it was to grab the bowl and lighter next to him.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I urged, taking the items out of his hands. “You’ve had enough I think.”

He looked upset, and for a second I thought he might protest but he smiled instead. Which is something I hadn’t expected.

“You haven’t had any, sex kitten.” He smirked, his eyes alive with mischief.

“Who’s going to watch over you two if I get high too?” I sassed back, moving to set the bowl and lighter on the coffee table in front of us.

“He’s right, join the party.” Dylan rasped from next to me.

Something pulled at my nether region at the sound of his voice. It was rusty from disuse, and unintentionally sultry. I closed my eyes, biting my lip, frozen. I was doing it again, imagining all the dirty thing I wanted that raspy fucking voice to say to me. What things I wanted his scruffy lips to do to me. I had to force down the groan that was building in me. Maybe one hit wouldn’t be so bad. I’d lose myself in the feeling of the weed and forget all about my boyfriend’s best friend fucking me into next week. I shuddered at that last thought, squeezing my legs together to force out the aching between them. I sat back against the couch, bringing the bowl to my lips as I did.

“That a girl.” Tyler voice oozing excitement as I flicked the lighter igniting the flame over the bowl of lightly burn green nugget.

I breathed in as the smoke started to fill my mouth, redirecting it to my lungs. It burned badly, but not necessarily in a bad way. The burn was complemented by the haziness my brain was slowly experiencing. The whole room seem to shift into a new world where space and time weren’t really relevant. I continued to allow the smoke to contaminate my body as the tv became the most interesting thing in the room.

I felt a presence, like someone was right next to me, and a second later I felt a pair of lips dangerously close to my ear.

“Breathe.”

Dylan’s low raspy voice hit my eardrum and my stomach did several involuntary backflips. I exhaled as if only his words could make me do so, feeling even lighter than before. When I looked at Dylan, his eyes were lazy but growing darker. I blushed, smiling coyly at him.

“Babe, look.” Tyler’s laugh broke the connection between Dylan and I snapped my head to the other side at him.

He was pointing to the TV and laughing wildly at how scared Courage the Cowardly Dog was. I giggled, placing my hand on his thigh. He did seem to notice, and the longer I left it there I realised he must be so high he was numb.

“Baby.” I said, now rubbing his thigh.

Nothing.

“Tyler!” I implored, growing impatient with being ignored.

“What?” He snapped, finally looking at me.

“Remember me? Your girlfriend?” I frowned.

“What about you?” He said curtly.

My heart sunk deep into stomach. Maybe it was the weed but the way he said that tore at me a little. Sometimes Tyler could be so distant. I knew he didn’t mean to be, but he was and it hurt.

I stared at him for a long while but he’d since looked away too taken away with the little purple dog on the TV. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my throat felt tight. The first two symptoms that tears were coming. I stood before I could let him get the best of me and padded over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Dylan was rummaging through the fridge and I barely even noticed him as I pulled a glass from the cupboard. To be honest, I hadn’t even noticed him get off the couch. I turned on the faucet, filling up the glass as the water poured from it. Before it was even half way filled, I brought it to my lips and chugged the entire glass. The water didn’t go far to hydrating my ever drying mouth. I began to refill the glass when I saw Dylan out of the corner of my eye.

“You okay?” He asked, nodding to the glass that was almost full.

It took me a second to answer. I just watched the glass fill up and then overflow, soaking my hand in the process.

“I don’t know.” I said finally, shutting off the water.

I didn’t take my eyes off the glass. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to really want to look anywhere else. I could tell, though, that Dylan was right by my side. This proved truer when I felt his hand against my back. I closed my eyes at his touch. Even through clothes it was still warm and comforting, two things I needed right now.

I didn’t have the willpower right now to stop the feelings every part of my being was feeling. His thumb absentmindedly drew circles on my back, showing so much affection in such a small gesture. My eyes flew open and I turned quickly to look at him. I startled him with my movement causing him to pull his hand away, taking the warm and comfort with him.

“I’m sorry.” He apologised, placing the hand that was once on my back on the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.

I looked up at him but he was still avoiding my gaze, looking everywhere but at me.

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” I said meaningfully, placing the glass down in the sink and turning fully so I was facing him.

At my words, his eyes met mine. Those beautiful golden orbs bore into me like they did the first night we met. It gave me the same feeling too, butterflies fluttering and heartbeat pounding. His tongue darted across his lips as for a brief second, his gaze falter to my lips and back. I grew even weaker, not being able to help when I took a second to wonder what his lips felt like as well. What he would taste like…

Ding dong.

The doorbell made us both jump and we separated like we had been caught doing something we shouldn’t. Now we both looked away. It took a second ring for me to realise someone was at the door and I briskly walked over to it, opening it tentatively. It was apparent how much more hazy it was in the apartment than it was outside when I opened the door. Smoke seemed to pour into the fresh air trying to escape its confinements. On the other side of the door stood a guy holding pizza boxes and wearing a red hat that read “Sal’s Pizza”.

“Oh, um uh how much do I owe you?” I asked, feeling around in my pockets for my wallet.

Why it’d be in my pocket and not in my purse I don’t know? My brain was apparently not working properly when under the influence. I heard the pizza guy chuckle and looked up to see him handing me the boxes with a polite smile. With confusion written all over my face, I took them from him and he walked away without another word. I stood in the doorway, stunned, before finally closing the door.

“Pizza.” I called as set the boxes down on the coffee table in front of Tyler.

“Thank god! I’m starving.” He groaned and threw open the lid of the first box, taking a pizza for each hand and sitting back comfortably on the couch.

I thought about attempting to mend my wounded confidence by offering some cuddle time or maybe a much needed make out sesh, but as I watched him sloppily devour the pizza my libedo was sudden deflated. I sighed and spun on my heels towards Tyler’s bedroom. I was exhausted from this night. As I walked past the kitchen, I remembered Dylan and suddenly realised he wasn’t there. I stopped right before the hallway looking around between the kitchen and the living room, but only saw Tyler and the glass of water I’d left in the sink earlier.

I signed again, missing his company. Not that I like his company or anything…

I continued my venture down the the hall toward Tyler’s room. The invitation of a cozy bed sounding more and more desirable as I inched closer to the room. I was halted when I passed the bathroom door that has just opened. I was greeted by Dylan almost crashing into me. He grabbed my arms to stop from knocking me over, but didn’t let go even after I was steady on my feet.

“Hi.” He said, his voice low and raspy as usual.

“Hi.” I breathed back, the looking he was now giving me causing my brain to frazzle.

He took a step closer to me and instinctively took a step back. His hands fell to his sides but he never stop hypnotizing with his stare. I took another step back, subconsciously trying to escape, but hit the wall directly behind me instead. Dylan stood his ground, the dimness in the hall casting shadows on his features making them more intriguing than ever. Still even in the dim light, his eyes shone like stars in the evening sky.

“I shouldn’t be here.” I said finally, interrupting the silence around us.

Though the statement was vague, he seemed to understand what I meant. That I was dangerously close to making a mistake I couldn’t take back. That if I gave into my selfish desires, I would be giving up Tyler. Worst of all I’d be hurting him.

“Then why are you?” He offered, taking that step that closed the gap between us.

He ducked his head until his lips were ghosting over my forehead. He trailed them down evoking goosebumps from me instantly. Our noses touched, and we began to play the game of Who Will Give in First. We weren’t touching each other besides are noses, but god I wanted to. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me. His tongue darted across his lips, catching the edges of my lips as he did. My breathing shallowed significantly and I could feel my power of will diminishing. I bowed my head trying to defuse the situation, another attempt in trying to stop myself. But Dylan cradled my chin in one hand and lifted it up to him.

“Because I can’t stay away.” I whispered finally, staring back into his eyes.

He smirked before he pulled my face towards him connecting our lips. It was like an explosive detonated in my brain. My whole body weakened as I fell deeper into the kiss and I allowed my eyes to flutter close. We stood there for what seemed like forever but it was definitely only a few seconds. It was good, too good but I had to stop it. This was too far. Gently but with a little power behind it, I pushed him away.

We detached, both of us heaving slightly at the ephemeral lack of air. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the shortage of oxygen or the fact that I finally got to do what I’d been secretly fantasising about since I met this guy. Well, partially. We watched each other as neither one of us made a move.

Walk away, walk away. I chanted in my head, trying to redirect my thoughts away from Dylan. But fuck he was raking over my body with that look, his bottom lip stucked in between his teeth. There was also the bulge poking out of the right leg of his pants. In the end it was his brief yet often glancing at my lips that made my decision for me.

I lunged for him wrapping my arms around his neck, crashing my lips on his. He grabbed me by my waist, pushing me back against the wall the I’d only migrated from an inch or so. I groaned in his mouth from the impact, feeling his length hard against my stomach. Dylan brushed his tongue over my bottom, my mouth responded involuntary by opening up to him immediately. With little effort he dominated, our tongue swirling over each other but somehow his always winning. I couldn’t stop now, truthfully I didn’t want to either. He tucked his fingers underneath the hem of my shirt and splaying then over my belly, carefully easing them up to just underneath the wire of my bra.

“You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted this.” He growled, pulling the cups of my bras down with a some force and tucking them underneath my breast so they were perked up and out.

I gasped when he cupped them, kneading them delectably. His hands felt rough, but delicate at the same. He brushed over my nipples with his thumbs, the peak hardening instantly. I let my head fall back to rest against the wall as I delighted in the care in which I was being given. Dylan lifted my shirt allowing air to cool my body and ducked down, latching on to the nearest nipple and rolling the other between his fingers. I let out a filthy moan, closing my eyes enjoying the pleasure and slight pain of him as I pulled at the hairs peeking out of his hat at the back of his neck. I was muffled by a hand over my mouth. My eyes shot opened and I caught Dylan just as he removed himself from around my breast. He stood up right, hand still over my mouth, bring his lips to my ear and whispering.

“Shhhhhh, kitten.” He teased, working his skilled fingers down to the buttons of my jeans. “We have to be

extra

extra quiet.”

As he said each word, he undid my pants even further until he could easily slip his hand down the front of them them. He still hadn’t removed his other from my mouth which turned out to be a good thing because when his index finger made contact with my clit, I let out a (muffled) cry.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He grunted, a smirk crossing his face.

That damn smirk.

He began rubbing slow circles into my bundle of nerves. It was hard to keep my knees from going limp as he worked me over. How one man’s fingers could be so expertly in tune to what exactly my body need, I don’t know. But I wasn’t mad about it. I hummed against his hand as his slow circles became faster, my hips suddenly rocking with his motion. The amazingly familiar pressure from deep inside began to grow. I removed my arms from around his neck so I could go back to kneading my breasts, pulling at my nipples ever now and again.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” He breathed in my ear.

His words were tantalizing, only added to the growing pull that would surely end me. Suddenly, there was a loss of friction and I whined against his hand. He looked at me, his eyes lustfully dark, and gave me one more little smile before plunge two fingers in me.

“Fuck, fuck.” I tried to say from behind his hand, holding onto my chest for dear life.

My eyes started to water at the delicious way I was now being filled. He wasn’t even moving yet. He just watched as I fell apart with just his fingers inside me. He shook his head a little, mumbling someone under his breathe. I didn’t have time to even figure out what it was because the torturous motion of him pushing and pulling into me had begun. I moaned and groaned from the other side of his hand, trying to keep my eyes open but failing miserably. I caught myself being swept away by his fingers. Those fucking little godsends. I would surely come undone any moment now and it wouldn’t even take much to do so. But because he’s Dylan, he added another finger AND his thumb that went back to taking care of my clit.

I’d decided that this couldn’t feel better if he tired. With me kneading my breasts and him completely dominating me with one hand while keeping me quiet with the other, I was in for the best damn fingering of my life. His fingers pumped in me faster and harder as he drew bigger circles against my bundle of nerves. The pull I’d been feeling was at an all time high, and it only took his lips on my favourite spot on my neck to do me in. I came hard. I tightened around his fingers and struggled to stay standing as he helped me ride out my glorious high.

When I had, he eased his fingers out of me than out of my jeans. I stood there, steadied by the wall, as I breathed heavily. Dylan removed his hand from my mouth and placed on my cheek, pulling me in for a simple yet sweet kiss. Of course, this fantastic moment couldn’t last which only proven when Tyler’s voice carries through the corridor as he called out for me. Dylan and I disconnected and looked down the hallway at its opening. Dylan took a few steps back, watching me as I quickly zipped up my pants and walked to the end of hall.

“Yes, Tyler.” I answered, leaning against the wall.

“Babe, you gotta see this. Courage is like so like funny.” He laughed, reaching over to grab his bowl. He hadn’t even turned to look at me.

“Sounds like a riot but I think I’m going to head to bed.” I said curtly.

He didn’t seem to notice my tone and if he did, he didn’t care. Maybe it was a bad idea meeting Tyler’s friends. He wasn’t the same person I’d met a few months ago. After several minutes of no response, I shook my head and turned to leave. Tonight was a very weird night, especially between Dylan and I. That’s when I remembered he was still waiting for me. But when I looked he wasn’t there. My heart sank as the moment was swept away.

[thomasreedtn]

Garden Update: The Good, The Bad, and the Undetermined

Despite last week’s heatwave into the mid-nineties, which we had not reached all Summer, signs of Autumn continue to reveal themselves. A cool breeze here, crunchy leaves there, along with more squirrel activity than I’ve seen since Spring.

It’s also the start of Fall bulb planting season, and — since CPL (crazy plant lady) ordered those bulbs before what turned out to be a slightly dislocated rib causing all the neck and upper chest pain — I’ve got a lot of bulbs to plant. Not the 1,000 I planted in Goshen in 2015, but 200+ daffodils, alliums, irises and fritillaria are nothing to sneeze at.

About those fritillaria …

I sure hope they’re worth it! I ordered them as groundhog, rabbit, vole and deer deterrents. If the flowers and leaves smell even half as potent as the bulbs, they might also become Laura deterrents. Oh. My. Skunks. Seriously, those bulbs smell like skunk times ten. They won’t make you sneeze, but they might make me gag. Crown imperials are so stately, though finicky, and fritillaria meleagris (the checkerboard droopy tulip looking things) look so dainty. Let me tell you, they don’t smell dainty! And that’s the point. I hope they keep groundhogs at bay as much as people claim they do, because Kalamazoo Kal appears to have found the front yard gardens.

I can’t prove it’s him. Yet. But I strongly suspect, because a) I’ve seen him right across the street, eyeing our front yard; b) a possum moved into his former home under the backyard shed; and c) something has had major kale munchies on the side of the driveway that Kal used to zip past on his way to and from the backyard:

That kale is in a pot between lemon time and day lilies, away from the rest of the edibles. I noticed evidence of kale poaching several weeks ago, but I didn’t really care, because that kale was puny compared to my femur length kale leaves tucked behind the weeping birch tree on the other side of the driveway.  It’s also too close for comfort to the neighbor’s septic tank, so I figured whatever wants to eat over there, have at it, as long as it keeps that critter away from the rest of the garden.

That might not have been the best plan. I think someone now has a fever for the flavor of lacinato. Last night, I got a warning as I sometimes do that I should protect my main crops of front yard kale. Instead of hustling out with deer repellent spray, I spent an hour and a half on the phone and then dove right back into novel preparation. Characters, mirror moments, structure, genre, how to do this, how to craft that. Very productive time, I might add!

Unfortunately, someone found the golden goose. A completely unprotected brassica heaven, without the eagle eye view from the dining room table. Whatever ate this kale came up on the house side and munched a lot of leaves at least two feet above the already raised bed. It could be a rabbit, but I do suspect it’s Kal, even though he’s been warned –repeatedly– that the forbidden side of our yard means a trap. Don’t make me do it, Kal.

It’s not terrible yet, but the house side has been seriously gnawed, and if this critter continues like it has with the sacrificial kale, we’re going to have a problem. I suspect Kal due to groundhog’s notorious love of kale, but also due to some interesting timing. I had just yesterday decided those fritillaria stink too much to plant them all. They’re expensive, so I didn’t want to throw them away. I offered quite a few to a friend, but today, I needed to skim the top of that offer in an effort to deter (and thus spare) my worthy adversary.

Several synchronous gifts followed. This friend reminded me about planting garlic, which I already have scheduled to do, but she sent me a site with perennial vegetables in case my sea kale seeds (which I misplaced) didn’t sprout. I’ve procured and not received sea kale several times this year, so hopefully the third time’s the charm. Someone in Kalamazoo offered me one as a gift, but they dropped off the radar as soon as I accepted. Other locations had run out of sea kale, and I have no idea where I put those seeds! I thought of taking a root division in Goshen, but it was sooooo hot and muggy the day I visited. I also at that point, thought I had a plant waiting for me in Kzoo.

In any case, thanks to my needing to explain why I was tweaking the number of fritillaria, I now have 2-3 sea kale root divisions, ramps, another rhubarb and one (that’s all you need!) Egyptian walking onion en route. So thank you, Karen! And thank you, critter, although I will specify right now that this sea kale is not the thank you. You can munch on the dandelions, the sacrificial kale, and be glad I haven’t asked the cat to spray.

Another synchronicity about this suspected Kal violation is that just this morning I got inspired to change both point of view and the protagonist/antagonist structure of my novel. I’m still brainstorming, but I had a major aha moment right before I discovered the early morning mischief. The breakthrough involves creating a surprisingly sympathetic villain protagonist who finds himself caring about his adversaries. How do I show that sort of thing? What does it feel like? What sort of emotions and conflict might that fuel? Enter Kal into my prized front yard garden. Even if it wasn’t him — but oh, you fat rascal, I know it was — the suspicion gave me great insights into character, conflict and motivation.

I walked to the nearby landscape store to get bulb fertilizer since I got my initial batch of 50 daffodils and a reblooming “Mother Earth” iris. While there, I ran into an edible gardener (gardener of edibles?) who actually offered me a groundhog solution besides, “Oh, you just have to trap them. That’s the only way.” “Here, let me show you what I use. It smells like vomit!” Sold! Actually, I did buy it and sprinkle it around the kale. I also sprayed the deer repellent around the edge of the garden. I wouldn’t put it in a perfume, but obviously, this guy has not experienced fritillaria!

Anyway, I got the bulb fertilizer so my daffodils actually bloom in the lawn’s poor soil, and I spent two hours planting eleven daffodils. I need to wait for some rain, or it’s going to be a long, slow Fall bulb season! Daffodils are the best gift you can give yourself, though, imho. One time planting brings decades of Spring cheer, and unlike tulips, nothing wants to eat them. I’ll view this batch first thing in the morning, as I open our bedroom curtains. The others will get scattered around the front and back yards, in spots that won’t get watered during regular garden season.

I also got the reblooming iris planted within easy view of the front window, and the root of a miniature aster by the mailbox volunteered to clone itself in a nearby spot, as well. You can see some of the current garden in bloom, along with newly planted beets and lettuce, and just imagine the deep purple aster and reblooming iris of I forget which color towards the right of this photo:

Speaking of asters, this one made it from Goshen! Once it finishes blooming, I will plant it out back by the shed, between the larkspur and clematis. In Goshen, this one grew to about four feet tall, so I look forward to prolific blooms next year:

All in all, the garden’s doing well. Two rhubarbs have established themselves in the 20-gallon Smart Pots out back, and today I noticed we even have a full sized strawberry trying to ripen before frost sets in:

The late Summer planted lettuce has finally taken off:

And a clematis who’d nearly given up the ghost before we moved in has recovered enough to bloom a second time this year:

So far, the kale muncher has left most of the collards alone:

And to top it all off, the shrub the former, former owner told us was a reblooming lilac is, in fact, blooming right now:

I have been so preoccupied with writing prep and sessions that I really have done very little in the garden of late. That will, of course, change as I plant the remaining 190+ flowering bulbs, garlic and perennial vegetables. Fortunately, my neck-rib-chest bizarre injury/initiation seems to have healed enough to get these babies in the ground. I get glimmers of how colorful the yard will be next year when this year’s newbies start coming into their own. With any good luck, those skunky fritillarias will do their deterring, while I do my writing, and Kal and I will continue this uneasy, yet somewhat comical dance of wills.

Wishing you and yours brilliant colors and abundant harvests — on whatever level!

          from Thomas Reed https://laurabruno.wordpress.com/2017/09/28/garden-update-the-good-the-bad-and-the-undetermined/

[witchyskunkrulez]

Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay. Gay? I was gay once. They put me in a pond. A water pond. A water pond with chemicals. And the chemicals turned me gay.

* concern *

" get therapy. "

[witchyskunkrulez]

your tail looks cool *cutely sets it on fire*

" GAH- My fucking tail!!!! " * They race to get water and put it out *

[witchyskunkrulez]

Your hair looks like it will taste like black licorice and strawberries.

" uh, thank you I suppose... " * She wasn't really sure if it was a compliment or foreshadowing of eating her hair. They hoped that wasn't the case *

[witchyskunkrulez]

You would unironically drink paint and then say it tasted good

* Salem regards the anon with a concerned yet very disgusted look, her tail flicking in distaste *

" absolutely not. Only a fool would do such a thing. I wouldn't be surprised if Rambley tried it though. " * she scoffs at the raccoon's name, looking away *

[witchyskunkrulez]

🧪🦨Introduction🦨🧪

” Hello there, dear tumblr people~ I am Salem the Skunk and I may or may not need some of you for test subjects for my potions. Ahahahaha!! Rambley won’t even get in MY way. “

(Heyo everyone! It’s Mod Cosmos here with another blog because Indigo Park has caught my eye and roleplay blogs are poppin’ up for it so, here’s Salem! She’s pretty snarky and sassy and certainly won’t hesitate to do anything to get what she wants and ruin the other Indigo Mascots’ day!)

“This is Salem speaking”

*This is Salem doing something*

(This is your dear Mod Cosmos speaking!)

“ Come ‘n ask some questions….. if you dare~ “

[witchyskunkrulez]

FDGHJKHGFDGHJUKHGFDRFTGHYUIJHBVFDERTYUIUHGBHJKLOIUYTFVBNJKIUYTFRERTYUJKHBVFCDSERFGHJIO(IUHNJKIUYHGFDERTYUIKJNBVFDERGTYHUIUYGFVBNMKLP)(*&^TFVBNMNBVFDERTYUIOLKNBVCDSDXCVBNJKO(*&YTFCV BNKJHGFDSERTYUIKJHVCXSWERT^YHGBNKOIUY&^TREDCVBNJKJBVCDERTYUIU&Y^%REDCVBNKO(I*&^TRFVGBHNJKJNBVCDSEW#$%T^YUIKJHGVFCDEDCVBJIOIUTRFDXCVBNJKMNBVCXSDERTYUJHNB NMKIUYTFC NMKIUYTFDSERTYUJNBVCDERTYHNJKIUYTRDCVBJKIU&Y^TRDC So anyway how was your day?

* They glare at the anon as they brush their tail * " You need mental help. " * She deadpans *

[witchyskunkrulez]

CAL-I-FORNIA GIRLS WE'RE UNFORGETTABLE-

* She's absolutely confused *

[witchyskunkrulez]

hmmm *noms a bit more* and a bit of low self image too.

💀