#ceil palmer

[chaotic-murder-gremlin]

I’m only 33 episodes into Welcome to Night Vale but I feel like Night Vale is tumblr and Dessert Bluffs is twitter

[inthedarktrees]

Laura?

February 24th, 1989 | Twin Peaks

[jolteonmchale]

I passed! I frickin' passed! I get to stay!

[girldickdotcom]

considering a twin peaks x thursday web weaving post rn

[or-not-2b---i-dont-know]

I do have to inform everyone that I unironically snorted watching the show for the first time when Corey basically stares directly at the audience and goes WE'RE GONNA CALL IT...

THE CEILING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[girlleon]

I MUST BE SPOILED AND ROTTEN (CAUSE NO ONE ELSE WOULD EVER DO)

real dad!leon x fem reader

warnings: father-daughter incest. could perhaps be read as a sequel for too close for comfort. daddy kink. also more nicole dollanganger, this is a little more directly inspired by uncle. pussy smacking, d/s dynamics, established relationship. title taken from spoiled and rotten by darling violetta.

Summer is blisteringly hot. It’s been nothing but eighties and nineties and humidity. It doesn’t even have the decency to cool the hell down at night. Your box fan doesn’t do much for you, the only air conditioner is in the living room.

Which is why you’re awake, staring at the ceiling with a gnawing in your lower stomach.

You get up, clad in dad’s old t-shirt and ruffle socks, and pad down to dad’s room.

The door creaks when it opens, there’s no reprieve from the heat in his room or the hallway.

You slip silently into his room and crawl into bed with him. “Daddy?”

Leon’s up in a moment, strong arms wrapping around you. Government training left its mark all these years later. “What is it, baby?”

“Can’t sleep.” You nuzzle his neck, leaving a kiss over his pulse.

He laughs, voice ragged from sleep, and your stomach flutters as one of his arms unwinds from you and dives into your panties. “Yeah? Think I know why, baby. Want me to make it better?”

You nod, lifting your leg up a little more for him.

Quickly, he withdraws his hand and smacks your pussy hard enough to make you jolt and cry out.

“What do we say?” No change in his inflection, but that’s your daddy.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mumble, rewarded with a kiss to your jaw and his hand gently petting over your stinging clit.

“My poor baby.” Leon coos, nudging your nose with his and leaving a kiss near your mouth as he slowly fumbles with your clit. “Your fingers not doing it for you anymore?”

You shake your head. “No, daddy.” They haven’t since he got inside you that first time, bending you over the kitchen counter while dinner burned on the stove.

Yeah, it was real fun trying to shut up the fire alarm whilst you both were naked from the waist down. Doing the dishes was awful, but that’s his job.

You stiffen up when he pushes two fingers in, no burning stretch because he got you used to three in no time.

When you moan, Dad rewards you with the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. “That’s my sweet girl.” He rests his forehead against yours, then kisses you as you get close, feeding off your moans and the way your walls squeeze his fingers.

Leon withdraws his fingers and gently wipes his hand on your tummy, patting your mound gently and grinning when you giggle. “Is that better?” He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you over, head in your neck.

“Mhm…” you nod lazily, already nodding off.

One orgasm plus dad’s weight on you equals a good ten hours of sleep.

You shift a little as you stand in front of your mom’s grave, feeling sort of ashamed in some odd way. Would mom be horrified if she was alive? If she knew her husband and kid were doing it on the daily?

Then again, you kinda ceded the kid label the second you let dad get inside you. Maybe that’s why you’re so interested in Twin Peaks, Laura Palmer was her dad’s own daughter-wife.

You lean into dad’s side unconsciously, staring at the headstone and sweating through your t-shirt in the fucking sun.

Later, as you’re cooking for the two of you, dad’s hands slip beneath your shirt, resting on your waist. “You’ve been all weird today, baby.” He sets his chin on top of your head and comes a little closer, fingers drumming on your sides.

He’s like a cat, Leon is. Never shows up when you’re actively showing attention to him and is bothered by it at best, only to turn around and come begging for it when you inevitably fuck off. You’d think he’d sleep at your feet if he could.

You sigh, stirring the noodles around the pan. “It’s complicated.”

Leon sighs too, dropping his head to ghost his mouth over your cheekbone. “So? Talk about it with me. I’ll uncomplicate it for you.”

You stir a little more, staring down at the pan and slowly sweating through your previously clean shirt. You should’ve just thrown this shit in the crockpot and called it a day. “Feel like I’m disrespecting her. Mom.”

His hands freeze; called it.

“Why?” He asks slowly, like he’s trying to interrogate you. Kinda reminds you of when he’d run a full investigation of why there were no leftover pizza slices left. If there are none left and only two people in the house, no dog, then how many graves are you spitting on?

You scoff, trying to pull away, but Leon’s got you cornered against the stove. “Come on, baby.” He goads, wrapping big fucking arms around your middle and pulling you in. “Why?”

You’d look at him as if he grew two heads if you could. “Because she’s my mom. Cause she’s your wife. You fucked her before me.”

He snorts in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Is that jealousy I hear, baby?”

You growl in annoyance, turning off the heat. “Don’t ‘baby’ me.”

Dad smiles against your face. “You sound just like your mother.” Of course this motherfucker isn’t bothered by it. “Just like her too.” He pats your ass. “In some ways, at least.” A wet kiss on your neck.

You make an unhappy noise, aiming an elbow at his ribs. “Focus, dad, Jesus fucking Christ. You can’t just fuck me every time we have a disagreement.” It’s not really a disagreement, he thinks you’re all in your head again. Got that from mom too.

Dad freezes, then withdraws, turning you to face him with the hands on your sides. “I’m sorry. Promise I’ll be serious.” Leon takes a hand and kisses it, keeping a hold of it like a bridge between you.

You huff, only slightly mollified by him. “You don’t feel… you’re not bothered by it?”

Leon’s eyes study you for a while, brows slowly furrowing. “I love you. Lots and lots, baby. What—“ he holds your hand a little tighter. “what we have, what we do, is only a natural extension of that.”

When you’re silent again, he reels you in, his fish on a line and hook in your cheek. “The royals did that, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, and Prince Phillip was a ghastly looking beast.” You mutter, pressing your ear to his heart. Dad snorts above you.

Hear that? That beats for you. Used to beat for mom, but he got a new one just for his precious girl.

“And Nicholas the second’s son had that blood disorder because of it.” That’s probably not true, but also could be true, who knows.

Divine punishment, like in a One Hundred Years of Solitude when that kid was born with the pig tail after generations of inbreeding. The entire settlement in Venezuela got wiped from the face of the earth for that. Rocks fall, everyone dies.

Lot’s daughters raped him. His wife got turned into a pillar of salt because she looked back after they fled Sodom and the girls never got any comeuppance.

He smooths a palm over your head. “Honey, Alexandra also had the same problem. So did at least two of the daughters.”

“But we don’t know.” You look up at him and frown.

Dad pouts down at you too before kissing you. “Your mom is always in my heart.” He says once he’s pulled away, wiping a bit of his spit from the corner of your mouth. “And so are you. She’d want me to be happy.”

You hold back a snarky comment, only giving him a look. Leon shrugs and straightens up. “Is that all it was, babydoll?”

You nod after a moment and he pats you on the ass again. “Better?”

You suppose so, you’re not really sure.

You feel a little like everyone knows when they look at you. Like Girl, Interrupted when Angelina Jolie looks at Brittany Murphy’s character and tells her everyone knows her dad rapes her, but what they—we—all missed is that she likes it.

Liked. Likes. Same difference, honestly. All that matters is that she—you—liked what her dad did to her. Rape.

God, what if his coworkers found out? Incest is a felony in most states. You and him go in the clinker, and everyone knows what happens in prison showers.

There are some things better kept between family.

Your dad loves you, you know he does. You love him too, even if everyone else is weirded out about it. He needed a relic of mom’s around, and what are you if not that?

Cum is thicker than water, in that sense.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Welcome to Villa Barton built in 1993 and remodeled in 2006. The villa is located in Straffan, Co. Kildare, Ireland. It has 5bds, 6ba, and is listed for €4.5M / $4,903,078.50. I don't know how to describe the decor, you just have to see it for yourself.

The tour begins with this very large room lined with wood paneling, and travertine floors.

If you like this carpet, good news, b/c you'll see it again.

Like here, in the sitting room with red walls to match. Note that the bar is quilted in red leather to match the Chesterfield sofas.

Quite a large bar with plenty of space for bottles.

The room also has an ornate fireplace.

This is my favorite room, big, white, and perfect for showing off the best feature of all- the big gold legs screwed into the ceiling.

This is some big dining room. It appears that the carpet is framed by the floor. This table seats 16.

Initially, I thought, what is a kitchen set doing in an office? But, it's the kitchen, which is so large, but so disappointingly sparse. They don't even show the stove or anything.

More hall, more carpet.

This is a very cool home gym. Barbie would love it.

Purple walls with the red carpet wouldn't have been my choice.

I think that this may be the empty wine cellar.

This is one of the bedrooms, and it's quite spacious. Could be a guest room.

The matching en suite has a big jetted tub. Does the floor match the wall? I've never see anything like that.

This palatial white, black & gold bedroom is the primary. You can see that it also has a large sitting room.

It has an en-suite, with that carpet. The shower seems awfully high off the floor.

Wow, look at the office. I've never seen computer screens attached like that. What the listing photos don't show, and I wouldn't expect them to, is the home's safe room, in case of a home invasion.

Look at this patio and garden. It's like in a movie.

The outdoor grounds are stunning.

The bad news is that the nearby golf course was designed by the famous golfer Arnold Palmer, and there is a mandatory yearly service charge and membership fee of €5,244.26 / $5,714.88.

https://www.daft.ie/for-sale/detached-house-villa-barton-1-churchfield-straffan-co-kildare/5723217

[ilikereadingthisiswhatilike]

October

(X) = Smut

Heavy Metal Family Agatha Harkness

Forget her @lovedrruunk  Summary: In which you get played by your situationship. Jinx thinks you deserve better anyway Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Jinx

AFLAME @vxsellie (X) Summary: your apartment goes up in flames and you're unlucky enough to have been on the top floor, your front door blocked by fire. thankfully, a certain firefighter finds you before it's too late Warnings: None Specials Tags: Multi Part, Fire Fighter AU Ellie Williams

again &. again @acid-ixx Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Multi Part Batfamily

Soulmate Soul Animal @darkstaria Summary: Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Multi Part, Soulmate au Batfamily

Come to Bed, Jinx @ha-rinrin Summary: After days of sleepless nights and drowning herself in Silco’s unfinished business, Jinx’s exhaustion is overwhelming.  Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Jinx

Right where you left me @space-cowgirllll Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Major Angst Abby Anderson

FORTUNE @lotties-ashwagandha Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Head canon Rogue Amendiares

PRIVACY @lotties-ashwagandha (X) Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Panam Palmer

Jealous @hanako-arasakas-twink Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Head canons Panam Palmer

house wife @witchesverse (X) Summary: after wanda meets you in her hex, she decides that she wants to keep you as her own. Warnings: noncon, heavy manipulation, degradation, mention of murder Specials Tags: Head canons Wanda Maximoff

Oh darling, will you still walk me home? @joannasprose Summary: helping out a reserved, and distant Violet after a pit fight and her unrelenting absence. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Vi

tickets @babygirlwritessmut Summary: Vi`s weird behavior bothered you, later she decided to have a serious conversation about the future of your relationship Warnings: None Specials Tags: grumpy x sunshine Vi

Hurt @jgrills Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Platonic Vi

Torn Between Fire and Ice @ha-rinrin Summary: In a world divided between Piltover’s rules and Zaun’s chaos, a forbidden connection grows. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Caitlyn's Little Sister Jinx

bratty sub @ha-rinrin (X) Summary: bratty sub jinx x dom fem!reader Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Jinx

Sweet Distractions @ha-rinrin Summary: In the quiet of a lonely night, a familiar chaos slips through the window Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Jinx

Backburner @prowresfics Summary: You get fed up with being pushed to the back of Rhea's mind and confront her. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Rhea Ripley

First Bite @ripleyresonance Summary: How does a hook-up turn into an eternity with fangs. You may not know much about this world, but sometimes one bite is all it takes. Warnings: Blood, Murder Specials Tags: Vampire Au, Vampire Hunter Au Rhea Ripley

Left To Face This Alone Together @specialinterestshows Summary: Rhea’s girlfriend (reader) and Damian’s girlfriend (OC) don’t often get a reprieve from their abusive partners, but when they’re left without supervision, their imaginations run wild Warnings: Domestic violence/abusive relationship mention Specials Tags: Mutli Part Rhea Ripley

Let Go @official-cvntified-gay (X) Summary: Sub!AD and Dom!Reader Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Alcina Dimistriscu

Drain Me @r3starttt (X) Summary: Sub!AD and Dom!Reader Warnings: Blood Specials Tags: Vampire Au, Stalking Au Caitlyn

hunting&f*cking @theresascove (X) Summary: you feel her presence drawing closer. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Pray Au Ellie Williams

oh baby, can you hear me moan @girlrotterr (X) Summary: You come home earlier than usual to find your roommates door slightly ajar. You can’t help but peek inside. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Roommate Au Ellie Williams

you know how I love it when you ride on me @theresascove(X) Summary: Ellie fucks you in the locker room showers while her teammate is chatting to her in a nearby shower Warnings: None Specials Tags: College AU Ellie Williams

Giving In (to the Love): Townie @venusindelusion Summary: If you thought you had terrible luck before, tonight will definitely prove that your life is jinxed when a misunderstanding with a pink haired girl makes your college life a little more difficult. Warnings: None Specials Tags: College Au, Mutli Part Vi

BLOMSTERTID @mo0nfairy  Summary: Centuries-old mage, Y/N L/N, possesses magical abilities unheard of. A few citizens monopolize the remnants of magic they find, of which they now title “Hextech”. Hearsay of this power bleeds through all of Runeterra, until Piltover and Zaun find themselves in an anarchic war to obtain said power. Before Y/N can even blink, however, the humans neglect their plans when they realize they’d rather have Y/N instead. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Mutli Part, Arcane x reader

Halloween Heartbeat @thetorturedfagdepartment Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Halloween Au Ellie Williams

nosferatu @themidnightcrimson (X) Summary: after wanda meets you in her hex, she decides that she wants to keep you as her own. Warnings: noncon, blood, supernatural, horror, gore, Specials Tags: Vampire Au Wanda Maximoff

Arcadia @multifandomme (X) Summary: When you think about Alcina, you just can't help yourself... but you soon discover that her self-control is as flimsy as your own. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Alcina Dimistriscu

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 @les4elliewilliams (X) Summary: None Warnings: mention of blood/murders, drugs usage Specials Tags: Ghost Face Au Ellie Williams

GhostFace @r3starttt (X) Summary: None Warnings: Gun Play Specials Tags: Ghost Face Au CaitVi

Arcadia @multifandomme (X) Summary: Alcina disrupts your maiden duties to engage in a little fun. Warnings: None Specials Tags: None Alcina Dimistriscu

Use ful less Child @maicenitas Summary: In your attempt to help your mom, everything goes as wrong as it possibly can Warnings: Child Abuse Specials Tags: Multi Part Batfamily

Picture Imperfect @ripleyresonance Summary: Your ex-girlfriend shows up at your engagement party. Will old habits die hard or the wish of a stable life prevail. Warnings: None Specials Tags: Ex-girlfriend Au Rhea Ripley

Mafia @savannahsdeath (X) Summary: None Warnings: None Specials Tags: Mafia Au Ellie Williams

[lilyletham]

Heart-Shaped Box

hiiiii! I finally finished my long-awaited sequel to 'A friend on Thanksgiving'! I may have gone a little overboard with it, though. This has not been beta'd and I've gone over it a few times for errors but if there's any stragglers, all mistakes are my own. Happy Valentine's Day <333 Words: 1.6k Pairing: Jacob Palmer(Crazy, Stupid Love) x reader - wording is very gender-neutral, total reader insert Content description/warnings: Inebriation from alcohol, angst, vomiting, some mild fluff

Over time, the two of you grew into a casual and relaxed friendship. There was sometimes a slight fluttering under the surface, perhaps an echo or a whisper of something more, but neither one of you ever acted on it, as it seemed to disappear just as quickly as it surfaced. Jacob came off especially distant in the days approaching Valentine's Day. While he's had plenty of temporary company in his bed on that holiday in the past, it didn't soothe the lingering loneliness forming at the center of his chest when he thought about it.

You were surprised then when he declined your invitation on the 14th to hang out, watch cheesy movies and eat takeout. It was practically a weekend ritual with him at this point. He mentioned he had a date and promised to make it up to you later. Without much further thought about it, you left him to enjoy the night while you curled up on your couch and browsed Netflix. You binged-watched an entire corny B-movie trilogy before your eyes started to get heavy and your belly was full of snacks. You checked your phone, 1:44am.

You wrapped your fleece blanket around yourself and closed your eyes. Just as you started to drift off you're startled by a shuffling sound approaching your door and the jiggling of your doorknob. You also heard…singing? Very off-tune singing. You got up and checked the window and sure enough, Jacob was wobbling in front of your door, singing Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana(or attempting to anyway), trying to insert his house key and confused as to why it didn't work; every other lyric of his song replaced with a mumbled 'fuck' and 'goddamn lock'. He must've thought he was at his house. It would almost be adorable if not for the fact that you really didn't want him to destroy your door attempting to jam his key in.

You opened the door and he very nearly stumbled forward onto the ground, as he was leaning on it with his key in his hand. He looked at you bewildered.

"What…wait…what are you doing here?" He slurred, eyes glossy and unfocused.

"Jacob, this is my house. You're at the wrong door." You replied, trying very hard not to laugh at him.

He squinted his eyes tightly and tried to focus his vision, looking around the outside of your yard and then inside your front door. "Are you sure?" He looked down at his house key and the change in perspective caused him to sway, and he gripped the door frame tightly to keep himself from falling down.

You held onto his arm to keep him steady and he absolutely reeked of alcohol. He was much more intoxicated than you realized, and that was going to be a problem. He could barely stand on his own, so you draped an around around him and reluctantly took him into your house, closing the door behind you. You peeled off his white jacket and the both of you hobbled to the couch. He felt like a rag doll as you plopped him down on the cushions, and he landed with an 'Oof' and a very un-serious giggle.

"What happened to your date?" You huffed, recovering from dragging a drunk grown-ass man across your living room.

He laughed loudly, the sound unable to contain its bitter tone. "I s'got ghoshted…at s-thuh barrr…" His words were mushed together and mumbled. "Shtupid…"

Ouch. Ghosted on Valentine's Day? That's harsh. You leaned over him laying there, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, and then you saw it. His face went lax, his complexion paled and he started to heave. Oh, oh no. You rushed to your kitchen to grab your garbage can and flung off the lid, bringing it to him, thanking your lucky stars you replaced it earlier. He unceremoniously rolled over on his side, grabbed the trashcan and violently emptied his stomach contents into it. You winced from how bad he was coughing and gagging and spitting. After a few more unproductive retches, he groaned and put the can down, laying back on the couch with his arm over his eyes. He seemed too embarrassed to look at you.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you got up to get him a glass of water, returning to him swiftly. He gratefully drained the glass and handed it back to you.

It seemed the puking helped to sober him up slightly as his response was much more coherent, "I'm sorry I'm such a f-fucking loser." He pushed out, his voice cracked from a combination of his forceful heaving and his emotions. His eyes were already watering from throwing up, but you watched as they welled up again, threatening to spill over.

"Aw, no, you're not a loser. The person who ghosted you is a loser." You reassured him, and he looked up at you with upturned brows, like he's unsure if you really mean it or if you're just being nice. You sensed his insecurity and put your hand on his shoulder. "I mean it, really. It's their loss. You're a great person Jacob, I want you to know that."

He choked back a sob and reached out to hug you, and despite him smelling like a minibar, you wrapped your arms around him and let him rest his head on the crook of your shoulder. The fluttering feeling returned in your stomach, and you tried hard to ignore it, pushing it down. After a few more seconds of sniffling, he brought his head up to look into your eyes, searching. You wondered if he too felt the same feeling just now.

"I should have just stayed here with you." He said softly. You weren't sure if it was simply a statement or a confession of some sort. When he leaned toward you, you had your answer. His eyes looked full of hope and yearning, and you very nearly let him close the gap when his eyes went wide and he quickly turned his head, heaving into the trashcan once again. You're reminded of where you are and the moment passes. You rubbed his back in soothing circles while he rode out his nausea, head buried in the can between his legs. Poor guy.

When his vomiting subsided you got him more water, some Pepto and encouraged him to relax and lay down on the couch to rest. By the time you replaced the garbage bag in the trashcan, he was completely asleep, snoring softly. You wondered if he would remember anything about tonight, or if he even really meant to do what he did. You couldn't help but sleep out in your living room on your lounge chair because you wanted to keep an eye on him. After you've determined he's probably going to stay asleep, you do the same, trying to relax and get even a few hours of rest from this chaotic Valentine's night.

It was late morning when your eyes finally opened. Your back was stiff from the awkward position on the lounge chair and then you remembered what transpired the night before. You noticed that Jacob was nowhere to be found, and his jacket was no longer hanging from the coat rack on the wall near your door. He must have left while you were asleep. There was a little part of you that missed him even though you just spent the previous night watching him cry and puke in equal measure. Thoughts swirled in your head about whether or not he remembered trying to kiss you, but you figured it would be for the best to not even bring it up. Alcohol can do a lot of things to people, especially someone freshly heartbroken and vulnerable.

You got up to start your day as usual, debating whether or not to get some discounted Valentine's candy for your stash. As midday rolled around you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, you were met with a lovely bouquet of flowers. Jacob peered around the colorful arrangement in his hand to sheepishly greet you. He looked tired and definitely hung over, but he thankfully had time to shower, change and brush his teeth.

"Hi. I'm sorry about being a drunk idiot last night and puking." He chuckled. So he did remember that part.

You smiled and took the flowers. "You're fine. All's forgiven. How do you feel?" You don't know why you even asked, he looked like shit and both of you knew it.

He humored you and grinned. "Like my head got thrown in a cement mixer. Do you have any Tylenol?"

You knew damn well he probably had painkillers at home but you let him in anyway, gesturing to follow, and he smiled. You told him where it was in your medicine cabinet and as he fetched the pills for himself you put the flowers in an empty vase. When he returned you watched him casually move about your kitchen, navigating your space comfortably as he filled a glass with water and took the pain reliever. It was as if he felt at home with you. You weren't sure why you hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps you just weren't paying attention. You locked eyes with him and you realize it-- he remembered everything. There were those butterflies again.

A beat passed, and then another. He tentatively approached you, setting down the glass on the counter and resting his hand on your waist. Slowly, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It was feather-light, experimental. When you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him, all apprehension in his mind dissolved.

[faggotwalkwithme]

here are the pictures from when i visited twin peaks!!!!!!!! (part 1)

explanations for if u dont recognise the places or what im referencing LOLS:

1: the exterior of the laura palmer house (as seen in the pilot, the return, and fire walk with me) 2: the table and couch with accurate crochet blanket as seen in fire walk with me and the return (for the scene in the return where laura's homecoming picture gets smashed, they used mary reber's framed copy so they gave her a new one and she got sheryl lee to sign it!!! she keeps the cigarettes and stuff :) ) 3: laura's bedroom from the pilot, mary reber put the This Would Look Nice on Your Wall and also has a lot of laura stuff in there 4: laura's bedroom from the pilot, she keeps a BOB mannequin in there and it jumpscared me like 3 times 5: the bathroom that laura washes her hands in and cries into when leland tells her to go wash her hands (scariest scene ever imo) 6 and 7: the ceiling fan... need i say more 8: the kitchen from the pilot, mary reber also keeps a very similar phone to the one sarah uses in that scene. her daughter also made biscuits and they were really good :) 9 and 10: the living room from fire walk with me, the return and the pilot. i tried to recreate that one shot of laura smoking in fire walk with me but i stood on the wrong side of the room lmao 11: my parents and i recreated that one pic of sarah, laura and leland :) 12: took a pic with mary reber!!! shes super sweet!(and she let me get a print for free :3) 13: my mum just took this picture of me taking a picture of the ceiling frame but i thought it looked a bit like one of the shots in fwwm. this is the front hall :3 14: donna's house exterior!!!! 15: mary reber answering the door for my dad hehe 16: just me in front of the house lol 17: the roadhouse exterior as seen in the pilot and fwwm!!! (maybe the return too i dont remember lol) 18: i'm being sheriff cable bending steel in the back of the deer meadow sheriff station and where the shed was in fire walk with me 19: this is where teresa banks' body was found and where leland pushed laura into the water after he killed her. i was collecting water for my science experiment lols :p 20: jack rabbit's palace from the return!! 21: my mum and me where donna and james were when they hid the other half of laura's heart necklace 22: the other half of laura's heart necklace (the tour guide put it there and it hasn't been removed for 8 years lol) 23: this is the area of the motel thingie where leland saw teresa, ronette and laura together (apparently if you stay in room 9, they've made it all creepy and burnt up and stuff and they call it the david lynch room) 24: same motel, but its room 8 which is where mr c like knocks on the door to go meet phillip jeffries 25, 26, 27, 28: the double r diner!!! i think we sat in the same booth that bobby, shelly and betty were sitting in the return, and i sat on the same (or like at least very close to) the stool bobby sits on in the pilot!! it was super cool, they had all the signs up and the menu and stuff and i bought an audrey magnet and laura sticker and we had coffee and cherry pie :) 29: nadine's silent drapes shop!!! the shop keeps a golden shovel and the drapes!!!! 30: me at carl rodd's bench with the titular twin peaks in the background :3 the tour guide provided a prop RR2GO cup for pictures lol

[ken-dom]

Midnight Thoughts

Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer

1.2k words

∘₊✧ Summary: Jacob, feeling lonely, reaches out. Seb, feeling irritated, makes an offer.

∘₊✧ Author's notes: This is entirely thanks to my pals on goosecord with extra special thank you's to Sascha and Clam for the fun chat that encouraged me to write this, and to K for checking my first draft and being my sanity as always! Song title from Midnight Thoughts by Set If Off, which seems so them somehow, especially from Jacob's point of view. Also, I am already SO tempted to write a second part to this…

∘₊✧ Warning/content: NSFW, masturbation, anal play, dildos, crying, hinted exhibitionism, sexting

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Jacob’s hips rock in a steady rhythm; not exactly slow but he’s not really going for it either. He’s bored, you see.

He’s riding a brand new dildo, thick and long and pinned between his heels while he slides himself down and raises his hips up again, an abundance of old – and some new – toys scattered around him on his crisp but ruffled bed sheets. The newest ones remain unopened, some he’s tried once or twice, and most are well-used, but none can quite hit the spot he needs them to. They rarely do.

He’s hard, he needs to cum. But he can’t. Because there is no one to see him climax, and where’s the fun in that?

He left the curtains drawn back on his floor to ceiling windows that stretch the full length of one wall in his bedroom. There’s no one out there, though, in the expanse of landscaped gardens. And why would there be? He lives alone, and he doesn’t get visitors. And if his gardener was on shift today, he would have drawn those curtains for sure, but then he wouldn’t have even got this far before giving up.

He needs attention and has no one to give him it. His cock needs attention, too, but he refuses to cum at his own touch whilst sobbing into his pillow again. Not today. If he’s going to sob, someone needs to make him sob. Make it a thrill rather than a pathetic attempt to feel some worth.

With a resigned sigh, he flops back and onto his side, propping his head on the foam pillow and reaching for his phone from the nightstand, his neglected cock twitching, but not leaking.

****

A drawn out, satisfied moan echoes around Seb’s apartment. A thin blade of sunlight illuminates a strip across his naked form, and if he was more coherent right now, he would appreciate the art of it, but all he can focus on his the heat building in his core as he fucks himself on his dildo, slow and deliberate movements clouding his thoughts into a haze of bliss.

He only has one toy, he’s used it for years, and it does the trick every time. Seb is well practised at getting what he wants, and pleasure is no exception.

The tip of his toy, perfectly shaped for his body, brushes so deliciously against that spot inside him that makes his toes curl every time he drags it out and pushes it back in, and he trembles, forcing himself not to speed up. Not yet. He intends to prolong his pleasure for as long as he can manage, until his throbbing, weeping cock can’t take any more and will be fit to explode with the slightest touch. 

Much like jazz, it’s an art.

The first thick pearl of precum pumps from his tip and he gasps at the brief, temporary relief in his already achingly untouched cock, and that’s alright for now. It’s building up, slowly but surely to the explosive orgasm he craves. After all, he has all day.

****

Jacob stares at his phone. He’s messaged three women now, all of whom usually seem so desperate to jump into bed with him. But he’s getting nothing. Why aren’t they responding? None of them? Is there a Women Who’ve Slept With Jacob Palmer convention that he missed the memo for? Surely he should be a guest speaker at the very least.

His lip trembles and a single teardrop wets his pillowcase. Just one, at least, for now. 

He can’t let this end in him sobbing himself to sleep and being discovered by his cleaner in the morning, surrounded by dildos and vibes and fleshlights, and miserably alone.

‘Fuck it,’ he growls, frustrated, and opens up another new conversation, scrolling down his contacts to select a name from lower down the list. Lower, that is, than ‘Girl 1,’ ‘Girl 2,’ and ‘Girl 3 - v.2.’

****

Seb is gripping his pillow so hard with his free hand that his knuckles have begun to ache. He doesn’t notice this, though, until his phone pings and disrupts his flow.

On hearing the shrill tone, his fingers uncurl from the thin cotton, and his eyes, brimming with irritation, pop open.

He can’t have this. He simply cannot have the outside world ruining his pleasure with something as banal as ‘notifications.’

He deserves to cum in peace, in his own time, undisturbed. To finish his work of art.

Carefully, he reaches for his phone to switch it onto silent mode, forget about the disruption, and continue on as he was, but when he lifts the device from where he discarded it face-down on the bed, he sees the screen and his cock twitches.

Jacob Palmer1 unread message

His eyes widen at the natural response of his body, and he almost drops his phone in haste to unlock the message and see what Jacob wants.

‘Hey’

Seb rolls his eyes. Hey. How Jacob manages to get so many women into bed is beyond Seb, between his unoriginal chat up schtick and the way he seems to be absolutely convinced they’re all falling over themselves to have him between their thighs. Idiot.

But, beyond his better judgement, Seb, clenching around his dildo, lets go of the base to use both hands for typing, and replies with a simple, ‘Hi, Jacob.’

As if the reply was already prepared and ready to send, it flashes up immediately beneath his own text.

‘What u doing’

Seb huffs a disbelieving laugh. No punctuation. Shorthand. Jesus. Still, he types a reply.

‘Some quite important business. Did you want something?’

Attention, Jacob thinks, but he types, ‘No girls are texting back, felt lonely, thought you’d understand’

Seb rolls his eyes again, this time it’s partly at how quickly Jacob replies every time – he’s so much more needy than he realises – and partly at the assumption that Seb is bothered by women deciding not to reply to him.

He smirks as he crafts the perfect response, if he does say so himself. 

‘So you thought you’d text a guy instead?’

Jacob’s heart races. He bites his lip, hands shaking as he types, ‘I’m not gay…’ and hits send. His cock is finally leaking and his fingers turn white where he grips his phone hard, unblinking, as he awaits Seb’s response.

Seb sighs at Jacob’s passe reply exasperatedly and shakes his head. 

Fuck it. If he didn’t try now, it would never happen.

Blood boiling, he replies, ‘I fuck men and I’m trying to fuck myself right now so stop texting. Either get over here and fuck me yourself or I’ll come over there and fuck you.’

A pause. 

The longest pause Seb has ever seen from Jacob. He wonders if he’s scared Jacob off for good, their playful, intermittent flirting finally coming to an end because Seb was a little too honest. He begins to feel something similar to what Jacob had started out with swelling in his chest.

Then, to his relief, three dots. Jacob is typing.

‘On my way.’

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Agent Rushmore (CH 9)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 1382

Warning: Mild language, violence, gore, guns, fluff, smut, angst, PTSD, graphic scenes…

Prompt: Special Agent Locklyn Rushmore, a highly trained Russian assassin who is skilled in all forms of hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, negotiating and more. When her cover is blown, she is returning back to NCIS headquarters in D.C…

Locklyn Rushmore

The beeping was steady.

However, that didn't stop my deep hatred towards it. I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling before looking over at the monitor that I so badly wanted to shoot to get it to shut the hell up.

I sit up and the room was empty. However, there were a bunch of flowers and gifts surrounding the room. I let a shaky breath out, my eyebrows furrowing as I move a hand to my chest.

What the hell?

I let another shaky breath out, sucking in a breath before another breath leaves me. The monitor sped up as my chest began to heave violently and I was unable to catch my breath. Tears stream down my cheeks and I let out a sob as the door opens.

Director Shepard rushes forward, sitting beside me as she pulled me against her. She rubs my back, shushing my softly.

"Your okay, Locklyn. Your okay. I promise. You did it. You have ended this once and for all. It's going to be okay. I promise. Breathe. In through you nose, out through mouth. Try to take a breath in for at least three seconds and let it out for three." She soothes.

She guides me through this, until I was calm. My shaky hands reach up to my face where I wipe away the tears.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened." I whisper.

"You had a panic attack. It's okay. It happens to the best of us. And don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for." She says.

"Where is everyone? Is Abby okay?" I ask.

"They are in the waiting room. The doctor has been sending me in to check if you'd be awake because we are close. He didn't want you overwhelmed if you woke up to everyone in here. And Abby is okay. She feels guilty, but she is okay." She says, playing with my hair.

"I want to see them." I say.

"Let's get you cleaned up first and redo some bandages before we do that. And lets get some proper food in your stomach. You've been in the hospital for four days. They had you in a medical induced coma and was giving you time to wake up after." She explains.

"What about Tim? And Ziva? Oh! And Tony and Gibbs? They are all okay right?" I ask.

"Everyone is okay. I promise." She says.

"Ducky? Palmer?" I ask.

"Mhm. Them too. They are fine, I promise." She says.

I managed to get some real clothes on. I couldn't stand the gown. So, I was dressed in a pair of scrub pants and a shirt. That's all the hospital had, but they were actually pretty comfy.

I refused to sit on my bed, wanting to pace, so Director Shepard was waiting until I got back in my bed. I grab the IV, dragging it along with me as I walked out of my room.

"Locklyn! Get back in bed! I'll go get everyone!" She says.

I ignore her as I walk to the waiting room. I walk in and everyone was doing their own little thing. Director Shepard sighs, which catches everyone's attention.

"Abby, your okay." I say relieved and she stands.

"L-Locklyn...I'm so sorry." She says quietly.

"Abby, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm so glad your okay. I was worried sick." I breathe, pulling her into a hug.

She lets a sigh of relief out as she hugs me back. I felt relief and I felt a wave of calmness wash over me.

"I should have called Gibbs. This wouldn't have happened then." She says once she pulls away.

"Abby, you did the right thing. If Gibbs showed up, instead of me...you wouldn't be here right now. I know how those men work." I say.

"But, look at you! Your hurt!" She exclaims upset.

"Abby, this is nothing. I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine. I'm a lot better now that I know everyone is okay. It looks worse than what it is. And before you point out I was passed out on the side of the road, keep in mind I had a few hits to the head. And my body was in shock with all that had happened. It was catching up after I got away. I'm fine though." I say.

"Did you eat? And drink some water and take your medications and get your bandages redone?" She asks.

"Yes. Director Shepard refused to let me see you all until all of that was done. I'm okay, Abby. How are you? Are you okay?" I ask and she nods.

"I'm fine. You saved me." She says and my lips quirk up a bit.

"Abby, I was just doing what I would do for anyone I care about." I murmur.

"Alright, let's bring this back to your room. You need to be resting in your bed, Locklyn." Director Shepard says and I roll my eyes.

"I'm fine. I want to move. I hate that bed already." I grumble.

"Lock, come." Gibbs says as he stands.

He reaches his hand out and I look at it confused for a moment before taking his. He lifts my hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss on my knuckles before he starts to lead the way back to my room. He pulls the blankets back, helping me up into the bed before pulling the covers up to my waist. I was leaned up against the pillows and he sat beside me.

I felt relieved as everyone entered the room and we were able to talk and catch up. It was all that I had wanted.

"You broke rule twelve guys." Tony says.

"Rule twelve?" I question.

"Rule twelve, never date a co-worker." Tim states.

"Hm. Strange. Seems like everyone here has broken the rule." I say.

"And what makes you say that?" Gibbs asks with a small smirk.

"Tony and Ziva's body language suggest that they are indeed together, not to mention the looks the two of them share. And the secret hand-holding and sneaky kisses here and there. And let's not forget Tim and Abby. Hm? The same thing, however Tim has also got to sleep in Abby's coffin." I say and both of their cheeks flush red.

"And you guys were trying to give me hell." Gibbs says.

"Boss...I-we can explain." Tim says.

"I don't need one. I broke rule twelve as well. I don't care. I don't plan on going back on it. If I break it, you all might as well." He says.

"Locklyn, you scared the hell out of me." Ducky says.

"I'm sorry." I say.

"Rule six." Gibbs warns.

"I'm just thankful you weren't the one on that table. You are a fighter. And you...you are like a daughter to me. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do." He says.

"I know. This girl is like a daughter to me...you gave us all a scare. But, I knew you would pull through." Director Shepard says.

I listen to all that I have missed the past few days plus random stories. I felt my love for this team grow and I knew that this team was my family, they were home. I'm honestly so lucky and grateful I was placed on this team.

With promises that they'd be back tomorrow, they all left except Gibbs who still sat beside my bed, holding my hand. I look over at him, smiling slightly.

"What were you thinking? You could have told me so we could of put a tracker or something on you." He says.

"Jethro...you and I both know you wouldn't have let me walk out those doors if I had told you." I explain softly and he sighs.

He slumps forward, his head resting on our joint hands. I bring my other hand to his hair where I run my fingers through it.

"What did they do to you?" He asks, lifting his head slightly to look at me.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." I murmur.

"Your one hell of a woman. When your ready, you know I'm here. We all are." He says and I smile slightly.

"Thank you, Jethro. I appreciate it." I murmur.

[hippolotamus]

The Lobby

so I'm researching the Palmer House Hotel for fic purposes... I'm doing the 3D tour and... my gods I need someone else to be unhinged with me. This is one ballroom. ONE.

[g0dspeeed]

WIP John Seed Day/Music Monday

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies & @socially-awkward-skeleton ♥️

Tagging @noodlecupcakes , @ladyoriza , @voidika , @adelaidedrubman , @strangefable , @onehornedbeast, @josephseedismyfather , @coetiroedd , @cassietrn , @v0idbuggy , @direwombat , @afarcryfrommymain , @afarcry5fromstraight and anyone else 💕

I just have John Seed on the brain today and decided to return to this WIP for a bit, which prompted me to then revisit a snippet from he and Cappie's dumpster fire of a relationship:

John almost yelled. Almost. Perched on his lips like a bird, ready for flight, was John's uncensored rage at what he awoke to in the early blue hours of the morning. The cotton of her t-shirt was damp with sweat and slot close to his chest. Her soft snores rumbled through her body, against his racing pulse. It soothed him like a balm and John was repulsed. They had a rule: No sleepovers. With, of course, the caveat of passing out or being too drunk to drive. But in the latter case, Cappie often preferred to stay awake or sober up in the living room and John very much enjoyed staying up with her until her thought process and words were less muddled. Not a drop of alcohol was shared between them the night before, however, nor any other substance. But there they were in his bed. Spooning. Before his anger could soar in the high ceilings of his bedroom, John observed their bodies with mirth in his sleepy eyes. Cappie was curled against his front and still dressed in her t-shirt and jeans beneath a thick blanket. Her ball cap sat on the wooden bedside table which allowed her thick, dark hair to fan out on his silk pillow and at the tip of his nose. It tickled with the heady aroma of her shampoo, something floral and with a hint of spice. And she drooled. Because of course she fucking would. That alone would be enough reason for John to admonish her and kick her out, but still, he paused.  John had tangled himself about her body like a weed. Every inch of him touched Cappie, from his bent knees behind hers,  his crotch hard against the plump flesh of her ass, to his chest. The arm under her head was numb while the other snaked over her ribs, his palm cupping her breast underneath her shirt. "You don't belong here," he purred into her hair, in a voice too soft to be a whisper.  Full lips ghosted her crown. "You don't belong anywhere. And look what you're doing to me. You're a cancer." His fingers stroked her skin. His hips adjusted and his arms held her close. "I need to cut you out, but I don't think I can anymore." A steady sigh, warm and soft, blew against the nape of her neck. His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks before John lulled back into a gentle slumber. And Cappie smirked in the dark.

Their pairing in a nutshell:

I can make you want me Think I already have We can make it happen Make it dark I want you to have me like I've never been had You get all my wild parts Ah, wild parts

Kiss me, you have blue eyes I have always loved a blue eyed boy A blue eyed boy You ask if I want to stay, oh I hate that sad face...

...and then she ghosted him for Eli Palmer.

♥️

[novelconcepts]

vannat besties and 98.

98 - Recovery/Hospital

Natalie wakes slowly, a groggy muddle of heavy limbs and cotton-ball brain. Something is beeping. Her bedroom does not tend to beep.

Her arm doesn't usually have a needle embedded under the skin, either. Huh.

Bleary-eyed, she turns her head against a pillow not nearly beaten-in enough to be her own. There's a railing on the bed. The walls are sterile, the color of eggshells. It smells awful in here. So clean, her head aches with the punchy vinegar tang.

Or, maybe, her head aches for other reasons. The reason she's here, in a hospital bed. Where was she last? A bar. Her car, revved to 80 on back roads. A whisky bottle clamped between her thighs, the leather of her pants squeaking when she reached down and hoisted it free.

"You're lucky they didn't arrest you, you know."

She snaps her head off the pillow and immediately groans. Definitely a head injury. And a hangover. She's had plenty of both over the years to recognize the severity of that knock upon her proverbial door.

A chair has been pulled alongside her bed. In it sprawls Van Palmer, legs draped over one spindly metal arm, a paperback open in her lap. She looks tired. Unimpressed. Judging by the state of her hair and the suitcases she's hauling around beneath her eyes, she hasn't recently slept.

"What're you doing here?" Natalie rasps. Her throat is all needles, no matter how hard she swallows. She needs water, but the idea of drinking anything sends her stomach reeling.

Van doesn't look up from her book. "Behold. Your emergency contact."

"Since when?" Natalie didn't set that up. She'd have remembered. Probably.

"Since Tai redeveloped her sense of humor, I guess."

Natalie frowns. Tai. The one who paid for her last stint in rehab. The one who chucked Natalie on the shoulder, said, "You got this", and spoke no more of it. Her skin prickles at the memory, at the need of it. She hated Taissa paying. She hated Taissa walking away before she was even settled inside. She hated Taissa, though not half as much as she hated herself.

"I total the car?" It's not the real question. The real question is a splinter in her heart. I kill anyone? I hurt anyone? Why am I still doing this shit, Van?

Van's head bobs noncommittally. "Nothing a decent shop can't fix. You busted your head good, and you've got a stress fracture in...I don't remember. One of the ribs. Like I said, you're 98% luck."

Natalie scoffs, which hurts her throat and her head in equal measure. Doesn't do wonders for her heart, either. "Yeah. I feel real lucky."

"You should." Van looks at her, finally, and there's a heat in her eyes Natalie has seen in years. It sings of a cabin, a deck of cards, a queen of hearts. "I've seen this movie, Nat. We both have. You really want to watch it all the way to the credits this time?"

Natalie sinks into the firm mattress. She's twenty-four, far too old to be feeling cowed by an old friend aiming bullet-precision disappointment. The fact that it's Van is what counts. The fact that it's Van, who isn't smiling, isn't swinging her legs free to lean over Natalie's bed and squeeze her hand.

This is what Tai was playing at, she understands. Setting Van as the one they'd call. Tai always did know how to see the whole field.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Van's sneakers flutter-kick in the air, her shoulders pulling back so she can inspect the ceiling.

"Yeah, Nat. That's always the first step."

She's furious, it's clear. Furious that Natalie would do this to herself. Furious that Natalie, of all people, who knows better, would play this game with fate.

But furious isn't enough to propel her out of her seat, this room, Natalie's misery. She ducks her head back to her book, and, without another word about Natalie's choices, begins reading aloud. She's right in the middle, some book about gods and road trips and wars. She does different voices for characters Natalie hasn't met before, and somehow, Natalie feels like she's known them her whole life.

Natalie listens until she falls asleep, and for a little while, the shame recedes.

[wuntrum]

What was your inspiration for signals?

sooo the initial inspiration came from a place of wanting to have a story about a girl who was kind of doomed by the narrative (i remember specifically thinking about abigail hobbs, laura palmer, those types of characters---also the song "i know the end" by phoebe bridgers was big on my mind). the religious angle came from joan of arc, i think i remember thinking about what sort of story i would do a "retelling" of (the green knight also was big on my mind at the time), and also from a movie i had watched called saint maud (need to watch it again to be honest). and the electricity part came from twin peaks again, specifically fire walk with me and the return...i was (and still am) obsessed with how david lynch uses electricity as this like ominous omnipotent force that adds meaning to stuff he had already filmed (like, going back and watching the ceiling fan spin after all the electricity talk in the movie and the return...ough), and so i kind of wanted to follow that thread of thinking for myself and see what came out of it

stylistcally (for the actual pages), my main inspirations were leo fox's comic "prokaryote season" and freddy carrasco's comic "gleem", which are both beautifully drafted and laid out, as well as using the limits of a pixel-y style and limited colors (wanted it to feel like an original gameboy screen kinda)...i doooon't think my comic lives up to either of theirs but they were the main inspiration :)