#fresh from the bog

[shiftythrifting]

Things That Like Carrots are lurking in the waters and are for sale for only 15$ on Facebook marketplace.

[shrekshrek]

"is it true that cats always land on their feet?"

"no! that is a myth, propagated by dogs!"

hmm... bit of a pattern here...

[shrekshrek]

"old friends" is an underrated relationship dynamic because it's such an innocent boring sounding term for what is usually some of the wildest shit imaginable. it's always like 'oh yeah we go way back, we have history' and then you find out that history includes sex, drugs, murder, divorce, war crimes and The Incident

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

YALL HOLY SHIT

LOOK WHAT SOMEBODY DROPPED OUTSIDE MY HOUSE

[falsestalwart]

it's finally the weekend so i'll be working on drafts

[shrekshrek]

"Puss in Boots" (2011)

“Puss in Boots: The Last Wish” | “The Trident” parallel

[shrekshrek]

just read this nice fic & they pointed out that Kitty's gatito blade is what she uses instead of claws, and so her giving it to Puss is a whole new level of trust

[barksbog]

Oh Wow Hammerhead Worms!!

finally you can grab one of these without risking being poisoned! and they are so soft and floppy! just toss them around! slap them! gently pet them!

adopt a little guys fresh from my bog

barks-bog.com

[this-mind-of-mine-ahh]

The Rotted Man

When I was a child of only three The Rotted man came for me late one night from my open door he slowly crept across the floor he took me by the hand and said I’ll save you from this life of dread we left the house in the early morn and took his carriage of blackened thorn we rode for hours through thick dense fog to a darkened unlit swamp filled bog where top-less trees with hanging moss were shields from the unseen winter frost the thick wet heat from the dense cool air crept up your back and through your hair he took me to his house of bones on a path laid with cobble stones upon his door hung a head of a child with hair of fiery red his hall was bathed in blood red tile the walls were stacks of flesh in piles He told me of his protective view and begged that I should join him too He smiled and through his rotted lips I saw a thousand children’s fingertips He promised me the world would pay and told me that I could stay Then we entered a smaller room and the rotted man gave me a red balloon Then I saw my mom through tinted glass The man with her was talking fast The tears were pouring from her eyes The man then held her while she cried Then the Rotted man did the strangest thing, He sat down with me and began to sing. A soft nice tune that filled my head With puppy dogs and fresh baked bread It was then I notice that the rotted man Was simply old and had a tan, And then my mom burst in the room The feel of warmth, her sweet perfume She hugged me tight and swore to me From here on out, Dad would let us be. No more bruises no more fights, No more screaming in the night, The rotted man had saved our lives, By taking those who beat their wives, And children that cry when they’re dropped, And are beaten senseless until they stop, I thank the Rotted man a lot, And never have I forgot, That the thing I feared, saved my life, They had found my father with a knife, There are real horrors on this earth, Some are subjected to them at birth, We were saved by a man made of rot, I was lucky, but many are not.

by thelirivalley

[shrekshrek]

i need puss in boots to do my top surgery and leave a P shaped scar

[theveryworstthing]

time to learn a little bit about the Yells. i've been writing a few lore posts for a while and instead of continuing to let they grow and fretting over them, i think i'm just going to throw a few out there and try to finish up the rest this week.

The Yells

Despite their imposing size, strange behaviors, and mysterious keepers, the Signallusc (or The Yells as most rabbits call them) are considered just another part of the island landscape. These towering faux trees serve as the island version of radio towers, and make all radio communication above and below ground possible.

Though the 2 largest of the naturally formed Yells are still upright and active (and heavily protected so that their natural life cycle can be properly studied), these days rabbits prefer to cultivate the towers so that they don’t grow in problematic areas or do…other things.

Wild or free growth Yells make their homes in dead rotting wood as natural decomposers, and many live out their lives as simple slime molds (or as simple as any slime mold can be). Certain conditions must be met to trigger the drastic color change and vertical growth that make them viable for communication use, and so wild Yells are usually found growing in small clusters in or around the resources they need to sustain their new forms. Dead trees or stumps with roots still in the ground are prime hosts for these slime molds and they’re actually seen as beneficial since they stabilize potentially dangerous dead trees and kill diseases or especially destructive insects that might harm surrounding living trees. Once inside these dead trees the slime mold eats them from the inside out, taking the branches first, and then devouring the mass from the top down.

Compared to other slime molds they can handle direct sunlight quite well, but wild yells still tend to favor hosts in shady areas and from the way these trees are devoured they seem to try and keep some sort of shell around them for as long as possible. This wooden shell not only serves as food, but also gives the growing Yell a moist, dark, home until its outer membrane is thick and strong enough to handle being constantly exposed. When wild Yells “die”, it’s usually because they’ve run out of host tree long ago, and have stiffened into a rigid structure that eventually cracks (usually due to being struck by lightning) and crumbles, releasing clouds of spores. The remains of a Yell dissolve in the first rain after they fall and tend to leave the area around the strange lotus pod-ish pit in the ground where “roots” used to be spotless, but smelling very metallic with a hint of foulness. Almost like not so fresh blood.

Through the observations recorded by island botanists and the specific botanical sect known as the Antenna, rabbits (and hares, as they were the first to investigate and made great strides in understanding the process before they left the island en masse) have learned exactly what triggers Yell vertical growth and have used this knowledge to cultivate Yells quite successfully. A combination of owl feathers, metal ore (mainly bog iron), charcoal sticks and or ash (best if created by lightning strike, wood preferred but animal remains like burned out hawks are perfectly acceptable), and a little starter wood are fed to the slime mold, and after it’s broken everything down it begins its transformation. It is then introduced to a host plant sprout, a type of fast growing, woody, creeping vine in the Grasp family bred specifically for this purpose (wild cultivars work fine but they’re half as hardy and the bond has a greater chance of triggering very upsetting mutations. These are different from the upsetting mutations, which are fine and harmless). From then on the slime mold seems to guide the host plant’s growth, forming a shell from the vines that is constantly growing and shedding. This serves as both a home and an ample food source.

The botany world is torn on whether this forms a mutualistic symbiotic relationship or whether it’s straight up parasitism. And yes, plant nerd blood has been spilled over this argument. Not a ton of blood, it’s not like this is the great lichen wars, but still.

The Antenna

All yell care-taking is done by the Antenna sect. This is a mysterious group of witchy botanists and engineers who, like the previously referred to upsetting mutations, are harmless despite their entire vibe. Well. Harmless enough for botanists anyway.

Not a lot is known about them by the general public but they keep things working smoothly and show up quickly when something isn’t.

Members of this sect haven’t had a set “look” or uniform for about a generation and a half due to the ending of a lot of the the founding member’s bloodlines, but each Yell site has it’s own culture that attracts certain kinds of people. Despite their differences, there are a few things that make Antennae easier to pick out of a crowd if you know what to look for. The skin of their inner ears develop thin branching markings or wave-like ripples depending on how they interact with Yells. Some have obvious hare ancestry and sport roughly branching horns that grow quite long and shed every year (these shed horns are fed to the Yells). Newer members wear a lot of lightweight ear jewelry to help pick up important signals and behavioral quirks from the Yells, but the longer they stay in the Antenna the less tolerant they are of this. Things get…loud. Behind their eyes. Inside their teeth. Seasoned members usually can’t stand wearing any metal jewelry at all. The head botanist of one of the most remote Yells wears ear plugs almost 24/7 because of left behind shrapnel from an accident in his youth.

He is deaf.

He says he’s not really blocking anything out, just sorting it properly.

No one really knows what he means. It’s fine.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Omg I just seen a barnaby plushie is coming out march 15! I just wanted to tell you cause I know you adore him! Omg I’m so excited- just shaking the bars of my enclosure right now-

yes, Thank You! the thought of him will motivate me through tomorrow! my reward will be buying him at the end of the day <3

[rebouks]

Keeping Lag to a Minimum...

I was chatting about a few things I do to combat lag over on discord and realised I do quite a bit of maintenance to reduce lag/load times. I decided to write em all down and before I knew it, I had a big ol' list. Here's hoping it helps!

Save/File Tips:

Clear your caches (located in the same spot as your mod folder fyi) I usually delete the onlinethumbnailcache, avatarcache and localthumbcache caches every time I exit the game, the main one to delete regularly is the localthumbcache file, they're just temporary files but it can get pretty big after a while.. if you're having any mod issues, particularly ui ones, it's always worth deleting that to see if it helps.

Remove any saves you're not using from your saves folder, and keep an eye on save file sizes. In my experience, any saves over around 30-40mb start to get a bit laggy. Things that bump this size up are the amount of townies in game and the amount of lots/objects in the world.

Regarding the above point, I regularly bulldoze lots I don't need anymore, just to save the game from having to cope with extra shit to load in the background and reduce save file bloat.

Similarly, I delete a lot of unnecessary townies. Also, try to keep the amount of outfits on townies to a minimum, ain't no townie need four swimsuit outfits, the game will thank you..

If you have cheats enabled you can usually shift-click/delete object on things like random coffee cups or stray cupcakes sims foolishly drop around the world (or eat em.. whatever tickles ur pickle) just get rid!

Whilst we're keeping objects in game to a minimum.. I try to clear sims inventories now and then, including townies. You can do this via mccc even if you're not currently playing that household by heading to MC Cleaner -> Sell Sim Inventory/Sell Household Inventory. RANDOM LUMPS OF CLAY BEGONE!

Think of a save file like a lot.. the more objects in it, the laggier it gets! Try your best to remove anything or anyone unnecessary where you can.

Hit "Save As" instead of "Save" now and then - the more you overwrite a save, the more chance it has of going wonky, treat your game to a fresh one now and then and remove the old one from your saves folder (maybe don't delete it right away in case you wanna roll back, keep it somewhere safe).

If you can (although ik it can be a pain) set up a new/fresh save, you'd be surprised how bogged down old ones can get! For legacy players, it's usually best to do this whenever you have a small family to save yourself some pain, since you can just save the household and take em to a new save (you will lose sims inventories/household inventories/relationships with sims outside the household tho so beware! Pictures/other collectables can be saved to a lot however, and you can always cheat back relationship bits etc.. bit of a last resort but new saves are shiny and fast!)

Make sure your Screenshots/Video folders are empty - move em somewhere else, it works, trust me. If you have a lot of custom music installed try n' clear some of those out too.. the smaller that Sims 4 directory is, the better.

Delete any last exceptions/last crashes (same spot as your mod folder again) you don't need em unless you're planning to upload em somewhere for help.

Settings Etc:

If you get a bad lag spike, opening the main menu and/or saving can randomly stop this. If it doesn't, try exiting the game, clearing your localthumbcache and restarting.

Clearing all notifications from the game panel can also help.

If you can, close all other apps and background apps you don't need whilst playing, ts4 is super memory hungry so it can definitely help.

The GraphicsRules Override file by Simp4Sims can reduce lag/latency and make your game look a little better in the process!

Srslysims Simulation Lag Fix mod can help reduce lag too (if you've altered the game speed via mccc tho, don't use this unless you plan on resetting it to default).

If you aren't keen on, or barely use a pack, consider disabling it.

Not ideal, especially for those of us taking screenshots, but lowering the graphics settings whilst playing definitely helps.

If you use re/g-shade, consider switching it off whilst playing and only turn it on for screenshots.

A clean and tidy pc/laptop runs better in general. Remove anything you're not using/don't need anymore to free up space, remove temp files, clean up your folders now and again etc etc.. especially that dreaded mod folder, speaking of...

Managing Mods:

SORT OUT YOUR MODS FOLDER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.. skdsjdjs it doesn't have to be immaculate but at the very least try n' clear it out now n' then. Also try to separate your script mods/overrides from the rest, patch days don't need to be so stressful ;-;

Personally, I don't merge my mods; if something breaks it's much harder to pinpoint! It makes it easier to find/delete specific mods too.. and let's face it, there's usually one or two items in that set you could do without lmaooo.. also, don't think it helps much tbh! Yeah you could say the game doesn't have to work as hard to load merged files but that's debatable, it's still the same amount of items/polys at the end of the day ¯\(°_o)/¯

If you like merging files and/or see results from doing so, you can merge stuff you definitely know you're never getting rid of, especially CAS/BB stuff.. but steer clear of merging gameplay/script mods! If a merged file seems to be the culprit when using the 50/50 method, try unmerging it and 50/50ing it again! You might not need to get rid of everything if something's borked.

Bulk Rename Utility can be used to remove all spaces and special characters from your mod files, the game doesn't particularly like loading those so it'll thank you.

The Sims 4 Mod Manager is a great way to sort through your mods, you can easily see, move and delete files from here (not great for build/buy, poses etc as thumbnails are usually missing, but great for CAS stuff). An extra hint with this that I've noticed is that if any of my mods get renamed with [D1] at the beginning after looking through them via the mod manager, it means it's a duplicate file so you can get rid.

I also use the Sims 4 Tray Importer to help me sort through mods. Simply save a sim/lot with any cc you don't want and find it in the importer, you can then go through all the cc in the cc tab and delete/sort it (I also use this to sort cc if a bunch has the wrong tags etc, makes it easier to find in my folders by saving em to a lot or w/e - it also spots duplicates which is handy).

It's a ballache, but the 50/50 method is tried and tested if you're having issues.

I like to keep an abandoned cc folder tucked away somewhere, that way you can remove mods willy nilly without stressing about losing them. If you change your mind, you can always grab it back!

[bogleech]

MORE SUNDEW KITS AVAILABLE! A tiny carnivorous plant swamp that should grow for you even if you IGNORE IT ENTIRELY, by which I mean the following are some jars I have never touched (let alone opened) in over six months to a year:

This is the scale of the little baby sundews I will send you:

Here's how the sphagnum moss can grow depending on conditions:

Tinier little plants and liverworts will also come in your moss! Includes instructions in the box but here's some FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

Don't they ever need air?!

-No! Some plants can't handle but the processes of Photosynthesis and a symbiotic microbiome allow many plants to live in an airtight container as long as it holds any moisture.

Do I need to water these?

-No! If they're in a properly sealed clear container that never loses moisture, you will never have to water these. If you do need to add water for any reason though it HAS to be distilled, reverse osmosis water, or fresh rain water, not just filtered or purified water. Luckily you can buy distilled water by the gallon at any grocery store! This is the one rule you have to take to the letter; carnivorous plants grow in such a strict type of wetland, even water from most healthy natural ponds will kill them!

How often do they need to be fed?

-Technically never. As carnivorous plants they will grow bigger, faster and more colorful if you give them tiny prey, such as ants or fruit flies, and some people have success with crumbs of fish food, but be sure to remove any food that gets moldy. If you NEVER feed them, they will still grow anyway, just scrappier.

What about climate?

-Sundews are generally fine as long as they don't freeze solid or roast at over 100f for too long, but can still bounce back even from a little frost or a heat wave, basically more temperature-resistant than you probably are! What are their light requirements? -ANY light that plants can live on, including plant-friendly indoor LED lights! Sundews can make do just fine in fairly low to medium light, but also enjoy intense, full blast sunlight, which can even turn them reddish pink over time. As long as they aren't in total darkness, they should do alright! What about the mosses?? -Sphagnum moss grows right alongside sundews in the wild and enjoys all the same conditions!

What if it dies anyway?!

-Sometimes a sundew dies down naturally, especially after it produces a flower or under prolonged winter cold, but leave it be and you might eventually notice new growth. Here's one of mine that turned completely brown and rotten looking, then months later, every leaf sprouted a baby one:

[shrekshrek]

he does meet two ogres (sort of) named Tranche in the adventures of Puss in Boots

(earlier in the episode he said 'let me introduce you all to my wife!' and then ducked out a door and returned with a wig on and said 'hello, I am my wife now, it's nice to meet you all for the first time! haha! i have to leave now.' and then ducked out the door and put his hat back on and said 'that was my wife! who said she wasn't? if you do I'll eat you!!!' and this is the ending shot revealing that it really was his wife actually)

at some point puss says something like "wow that was terrible. i sure hope i don't meet any ogres in my future." but he does indeed not kill the ogre. there was a fight but they managed to resolve it peacefully (someone agreed to teach tranche how to read)

it wouldn't be unlike him to make the story a little bit more dramatic every time he tells it. or maybe he told it normally at first but when it spread by word of mouth, it snowballed, and he just rolled with it. or maybe he fought a meaner ogre some other time

Look the only thing I'm disappointed in with either Puss in Boots film is that neither one dares to answer the question when and how Puss got to be known as The Ogre Slayer. and in general the fact that the King hiring him just gives general bounty hunter esk vibes or something- as if he's known for killing Ogre otherwise. like what??

I am perfectly aware out of context its obviously referencing for those familiar, to the fairy tale of the same name where Puss indeed slays an Ogre.

That said within context of the movie this has never been addressed (unless something came up during the cartoon series? Though I'm skeptical)

Which means there are two possibilities I can think of for how he came to be known as such.

1 My man Puss out here riding on a big fat lie claiming he killed an Ogre(s) and simply banking on no one ever finding out the truth

2 Puss has definitely actually gone out and killed an ogre if not multiple at some point.

[leonsdolly]

Tammy Faye

Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Synopsis: In which you love Leon so much, you'd do anything for him.

CW: nsfw 18+, angst, obsession, depictions of murder, subby Leon, oral (m receiving)

WC: 4.4k

A/N: inspired by Tammy Faye by Nicole Dollanganger !

Red, black, red, black! Your hands are painted with the brilliant scarlet hue as you scrub them vigorously under the freezing tap water. You glance up at the filthy mirror to catch a glimpse of yourself. Black streaks of mascara trickle down your cheeks, mixing with the blood splattered across them like unholy rouge on a Venetian mask. You force a smile through the cracked exterior. Pierrot gone rogue. If he’d stabbed Harlequin eighteen times in a truckstop bathroom less than ten miles from Raccoon City and made sure to pose him all special for a handsome cop to find.

It’s as if all you see these days are red and black. How you long to catch a glimpse of the blue that swirls your lover’s eyes. The faint baby blue shadow you had applied that morning was a poor substitute. You screw your eyes shut and try to picture the particular shade of cerulean that you live for. His lovely face is overtaken by the gut-wrenching smell of copper and mildew as you open your eyes and continue scrubbing at your flesh. No matter, you’ll see him soon. For now, you focus on washing away all evidence of your inundating love. You scrub harder and harder and harder. Jesus, how much blood could a girl hold?

After what feels like eons under the flickering fluorescent light, you turn the rusty faucet off and smile widely at your reflection again. If Leon were to see you now, would he be enraptured by the way your thick mascara coated lashes frame your teary eyes like a doll that’s been trapped in an unopened box, forced to watch the most heartbreaking scenes play out through the unrelenting acetate sheet? You shake your head forcefully, expelling those thoughts out. The cops will be here soon. A twinge of giddiness zaps through your heart at the thought. He’ll be here soon.

You reapply a fresh coat of red lipstick - Dior, of course, before taking one last look around the dingy restroom. It’s filthy, but it was your personal respite for the past few hours. You wrinkle your nose at the row of grotesque urinals lined up against the dirt encrusted wall. They were filled with mysterious liquids that made your stomach churn. Thick reddish-brown goop that lay still with unidentifiable objects submerged within like a bog in Hell. Who would even think of doing something as disgusting as sticking their hand in? You turn away and push the door open to be greeted by the warm summer air. The night sky looms over you, a black sheet covered in stars that twink and blink and wink down at you as if to say “your secret’s safe with us.”

While this truckstop is gross, its beauty lies in the fact that it’s tiny and desolate as hell. Sure, the city is less than ten miles away, but the dense forestry surrounding the Arklay Mountains provides some coverage along the highway, shielding this particular stop from careless eyes. If you weren’t careful, you could miss it altogether unless you paid close attention to the fading signs. And because this was in the middle of nowhere, there weren’t any workers manning the facility at night. You wink back up at the stars and circle around the bathroom towards the gaggle of deserted semi-trucks, towards the one with its back door unlatched and open for all to see, towards her. 

She sits up unnaturally, thanks to the crate you had propped up against her back. The emptiness of the semi’s trailer looks as if it’s about to swallow her for all that she’s got like a black hole. The shadows of moths fluttering against the lights dance over her, contrasting the stillness of her features. You tilt your head as you cross your arms and glare up at her. You’re still prettier, right? Her skin has taken on a sallow tone that appears even more unflattering in the harsh fluorescent light. Her hair is tangled and matted with blood. The black blouse she wears is torn and looks even darker with the stains covering it. You gently smack your lips, feeling the satisfaction of freshly applied lipstick. The whore got what was coming. 

Gone were the nights of crying on the kitchen floor as Tammy Wynette played from another room. Gone were the days of having to excuse yourself in the staff restroom at the station to wipe the raven smudges away from your eyes. Gone were the moments of sheer exasperation and disgust as you watched her touch his uniform clad shoulders and lean in close to let him brush his lips over her own.

You pull your dainty white lace-trimmed gloves out of your pocket and slip them on before padding over to the lonesome payphone. You deposit a quarter before carefully dialing the three digits that would summon your lover like Beatrice descending from Paradise.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’d like to report a dead body at the old truckstop about ten miles south of Raccoon City.” Click.

You put the inky black phone back on the receiver before smiling uncontrollably. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as the anticipation of seeing him very soon washes over you. You love him so madly, you’re convinced the only way out of it is 500 mg of midazolam, 100 mg of vecuronium bromide, and 240 mEq of good ol’ potassium chloride.

The dense forest behind the truckstop beckons you with open arms, and you oblige. You skip over to a spot that will allow you to have a front row view of what’s about to transpire while keeping you hidden among the foliage. From here, you can see the girl sitting up with deadweight limbs like a marionette being forced upright with invisible strings. The strings are in your hands, but you were forced to seize control of them from her. Who knows what her influence would have done to Leon?

A bat of her clumpy lashes here, a hand on his firm shoulder there, and your Leon voluntarily hooked himself onto the strings, dancing to the tune she hums from her spot in the dingy break room. You suppose you can't fault him entirely; it's in his nature to grin bashfully and gaze at a woman who fawns over him with lovesick eyes. After all, that's what you love about your sweet rookie cop. Sweeter than candy floss, tantalizing in every aspect like a perfect little peach ready to be plucked from Eden. He just needs to realize that you had always been leaning against the counter of that break room, observing the two with astute grace.

“Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the chief’s office?” You dissolved.

The first words he had ever uttered to you solidified that you wanted all his words, and you would give him yours. You can’t even remember what you had responded with, lost in the tranquility of his eyes and splendor of his smile. You didn’t miss the way those eyes softly ran over your cream silk blouse, caressing and thumbing over the first few buttons for a peek of something more, something buried deep within your soul. Those lips pulled back to beam at you, beckoning you to press every part of you onto them until you shed black tears from a warmth you weren’t accustomed to.

You hear the sirens approaching from your protected spot, silently thanking nature for watching over you while the love of your life approaches.

“Come get your gift, sweetheart,” you murmur. “It's all for you, everything I do…”

Your heart thumps faster as the sirens scream louder and louder until they reach the truckstop. The slam of car doors echo throughout the otherwise silent night air as the officers’ frantic voices jumble over each other. You hold your breath as you identify your darling's voice among the two; your heart is about to blast off for the moon, leaving a red heart-shaped chemtrail behind it for all to see.

Some tinkering with flashlights and crackle of walkie-talkies, and there he is.

Leon rounds the corner to face the semi’s trailer, face going slack as he takes in the stage you set for him. He stands transfixed before her, immobilized like he’s now the one behind the acetate sheet. A pretty Ken doll, waiting for someone to tug at his strings.

His partner, Officer Redfield, flanks the semi as he joins Leon. “Fuck.”

Officer Redfield wastes no time in flinging open the car door and jamming his button to radio dispatch while his partner pales in the moonlight. You can't really make out what he's saying to dispatch but the terms “DOA” and “requesting units” and her name float over to you. When dispatch has confirmed that backup is on the way, Officer Redfield walks over to Leon and hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Kennedy.”

Leon shakes his head, a little dazed, a little frantic, but pretty just the same, and your thighs clench together. “How could this have happened again, Chris?”

Officer Redfield sighs heavily as he gazes up at the displayed corpse with unease. “I don't know. Goddamn it…”

He says something about how great of a colleague she was and how the entire station would miss her, but you can scarcely hear him over the blood roaring in your ears. Your beloved had asked how something like this could have happened again. Again. He knew. He was at least putting the pieces together. Your cheeks hurt from beaming in the shadows of the foliage; he was acknowledging the gifts you had bestowed upon him. A girl from a coffee shop whose smile drew him in like a shrimp to an anglerfish. A brute of a man who dared to connect his fist to such a lovely cheek during a drunken brawl at a bar. Both posed for his lovely eyes only, their last moments entombed in the polaroids tucked away in your desk drawer.

I’ve done it again, you silently mouth to him. I’ve done it again.

He doesn’t show up to work the next day. Or the day after that and the day after that and the day after that, and your organs fail.

An entire week passes, leaving your heart to writhe in agony from his absence. You stare forlornly at his empty desk from your own, shuffling papers mindlessly and feeling your hand twitch towards the letter opener whenever Chief Irons walks by - the bastard was the one who granted your darling “time off” to “process his emotions.”

A feeling of solemnity looms over the entire station as it whispers in hushed tones about who could’ve ripped away its beloved receptionist, a young woman who was in the prime of her life. The collective mourning is enough to make you want to vomit all over her desk, covering the slab of wood in your spite. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

You skim your fingers over the mahogany surface of Leon’s desk, feeling every crevice he feels as he hastily writes up reports and laughs at the other officers’ jokes like an angel breathing life into humans formed from dust. You long to see his splendorous face again, long to hear the stumbling of his words as his superiors tease him, long to inhale his reassuring scent as you brush past him to heat up your food in the break room. 

“You friends with him or something?” Officer Redfield’s voice shatters you out of your reverie with a jolt. 

“Oh, um, kinda…” Your voice softens at the question. Were you friends? Absolutely not. You were something better.

“Well, a few of us are gonna take him out tonight. Try to cheer him up after everything that’s been going on. Hell, we all need to cheer up. That last one hit way too close to home, especially for Kennedy.” His expression grows solemn. Three unsolved murders in such a short amount of time doesn’t necessarily boast confidence in the local police department. “You should come.”

You’re hesitant to respond. While your instincts are screaming at you to politely decline the invitation and instead observe the gathering from afar, a part of you realizes that you’ll get to be close to him. The thought makes you flutter like a little lacy thing in the wind that’s been pinned to a clothesline for as long as it can remember.

“I’d like that, thanks for inviting me.” You beam up at Officer Redfield. “You’ve all worked so hard. You deserve to relax as much as possible.”

“I don’t know about that.” A heavy sigh escapes his lips, and it looks like he wants nothing more than to tip his head back and let the whiskey slide down his throat, burning and clawing and gnawing at his esophagus until his vision turns black. “That’s three families who are cryin’ themselves to sleep, wonderin’ why this is happening to them.”

“Right.” Your eyebrows raise together in a display of faux sympathy, and your lovely mouth twists in a way that one could interpret as a pout of sorrow.

Where was the collective empathy when you were crying yourself to sleep every night while he was undoubtedly hugging her to his chest as they slept peacefully without a care in the world? Where was the justice in forcing yourself to be satisfied by your own fingers knowing it was a poor substitute for the heavenly cock filling her up? Where was the sense in any of it?

You slip back into an easy grin. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Raucous laughter and clinking of glasses and billiard balls missing their shots surround you as you enter a bar that’s rather homely in its own way. Your nerves are powerful enough to puncture flesh as you had primped and fussed over your appearance beforehand. This is your first outing with Leon, and you know that looking like anything less than Aphrodite’s descendant is not an option.

You see him before anyone else, just the way it’s always been. A modern-day Adonis standing unsuspectingly among the mediocre. His beauty wafts over to you like the aroma of honey and vanilla and brown sugar brewing on a stove, sweet and utterly tantalizing. It wraps itself around you, commanding you to drink it in until you relinquish all control. You’ve already given it all up for him. Gazing at him like he’s your cult leader, ready to usher you into the New World where it’s just you and him and no one else. You’ll do anything to preserve that world.

You make your way over to the group, greeting them and exchanging pleasantries before ordering your own drink. He’s leaning haphazardly on the edge of a pool table, and you casually stand by him, gripping onto your glass with trembling fingers.

He looks rather exhausted. Faint shadows encircle his eyes, and his blonde hair is a little mussed. His clothes are slightly rumpled, and he looks glumly at the tequila in his hand. His cheeks are painted with a subtle flush from the alcohol. You try not to reveal the utter state of adoration he’s put you in as you speak up.

“How are you, Officer Kennedy?”

He throws you a sidelong glance, and you catch it with bambi eyes. “I’m… hanging in there, I guess. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

You feel as though he’s taken an ax to every single appendage as you giggle softly and tell him your name.

He gives you a small smile as he nods at you. “I see you in the breakroom a lot.” His smile heals the bloody mess he just made, regenerating your wounds until you feel whole again.

“I do too. I’m really sorry about what you’re going through. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” You tilt your head sympathetically to show him you really care about his well-being. The angle also shows off your good side.

“Thanks,” he sighs. “I don’t know how something like this could’ve happened to her. Been beating myself up all this time wondering what I could’ve done to prevent this from happening. I don’t know. Sounds kinda crazy, but the other two cases we had felt pretty c-close to me too… You think I’m being real self-centered for that or something? It’s only my first year on the force, and I-I’m trying to process all of this. S’a shitty feeling…” His lets his drunken ramble fade away.

“I think you’re a good and kind person who is just trying to make sense of some horrible events that have happened.” You gently touch his arm as a way of offering comfort, and the feeling of his skin underneath your fingertips evokes an overwhelming surge in between your legs. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Officer Kennedy. You can’t blame yourself for anything.”

He blinks back tears that are starting to brim along his heavenly lashes, and your clit throbs underneath your dress. 

“I really appreciate that.” He smiles at you again which brings forth another wave of sticky arousal in your panties. “And Leon’s fine. Don’t need to do any of that ‘Officer’ stuff with me.”

“Leon.” Your favorite word in the world rolls off your tongue with practiced grace. He doesn’t need to know that you cling to the two syllables every night with frenzied cries as you try desperately to make yourself cum.

“Leon, what do you say we find somewhere a little more quiet? It can get pretty rambunctious and overwhelming in these places…” You lean in closer to gaze up at him underneath your pretty lashes, allowing your carefully selected fragrance to pull him under the depths of your desire, a siren calling out to the shipwrecked prince.

He lets out a stutter as the alcohol-induced blush dusted over his nose and cheeks intensifies further. It’s enough to put a Botticelli painting to shame.

“S-somewhere quiet would be good.”

You give his arm a gentle pat before leading him outside where the crisp night air kisses your faces, giving two lovers a proper welcome. The back of the bar is relatively secluded, and there is a small wooden bench that you promptly perch yourselves on. For the next minute or so, the two of you sit in silence. Your heart is about to blast off towards the moon as the realization that he’s here with his thigh pressed against yours hits you hard.

“Thanks for listening to me back there,” he finally murmurs with his eyes cast downwards. “I don't really want to get into that with the others.”

“Why not? They care about you, and want to make sure you’re okay.” I’m the only one you need, and I’ll make sure it stays that way.

“To be honest��� I don't want them to think that I can’t handle myself. That I’m still just a stupid weak rookie who can’t compartmentalize his emotions like a real man.”

“Oh, Leon…” Darling, sweetheart, baby. “You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You’re a talented cop and a great person. You feel everything the way you want to feel. No one’s judging you or looking down on you for it. Trust me on that.”

You’re so caught up in reassuring him that you don’t realize your hand has floated up to cup his cheek until he stammers something unintelligible. You let your thumb rub soothing circles on his soft skin as you continue.

“I mean, anyone can tell how kind and sweet and smart and skilled you are. You have the respect of everyone at work, including mine…”

His flustered expression causes your breath to hitch as you gently brush his bottom lip with your thumb. You could write poetry inspired by the way his lips curve into a shy smile, pulling his faint dimples out of their slumber and letting sweet nothings be whispered to them under the moonlight.

“You want me to make everything better, baby?” You let your murmur be as soothing as possible, an elixir that promises to heal the broken man before you.

He nods bashfully as your forehead touches his. You let your hand fall from his face, and he whines softly at the loss of warmth, and as much as you’d love to mentally record the sound so that it’s playing over and over in your brain for those unfulfilling nights on the kitchen floor, you swallow it up with your own lips.

Your first kiss is what people go to war for. As your lips move together in tandem, you’re overcome with nostalgia for a time when the aroma of freshly baked apple pie wafts through the home and neighbors wave to each other over their white picket fences and Leon comes home with a twinkle in his eyes as he kisses you and the bundle in your arms.

This is why you did what you did.

He whimpers into your mouth as the kiss grows deeper. His hands roam down to your waist, squeezing gently at your sides as you let your tongue intertwine with his. You move your lips south, along his jaw and towards his neck where you set up camp. He lets out a whine as you press your lips particularly hard against the sensitive spot by his throat, taking care to pay attention to the two little moles peeking back up at you.

“P-please…” He gasps at another scrape of your teeth against his delicate skin.

“Just leaving a few marks to remember me by,” you coo. “Making my pretty boy even prettier.”

To your delight, his hips shift uncomfortably at your words. You lower your hand to meet his crotch, gently palming the growing bulge underneath his jeans. His head tips back, proclaiming open season on his throat to which you attack with vigor. Your thighs squeeze together as your lover pants towards the moon. You’re so focused on making your pretty boy feel good with your soft rubs and passionate kisses that you’ve scarcely paid any attention to the soaking gusset of your panties.

You slowly but surely lower yourself to the ground, internally cringing at the feeling of dirt on your knees. Oh well, it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever gotten on you. You perch yourself in between his legs and fumble with his belt buckle. His head returns to its original position as he gazes down at you with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.

“Y-you don’t have to.”

“I want to, baby. I said I’d make everything better, right?”

“Mmm, yeah.” 

He sighs as you successfully unclasp his buckle and shimmy his hardened cock out of his boxers. You preen at the sight - it’s pretty, just like the rest of him, and weeping for your attention. You gingerly take it in your hands, marveling at the girth as you stroke it up and down with slow movements. He whimpers at the feeling and involuntarily bucks his hips up so that he fucks into your hand. You let him do this a few times before deciding enough is enough.

“What do you want me to do, sweet boy? Tell me, I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“Your m-mouth,” he whispers.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” you tease as you hover your lips over the head.

“Want you to put your mouth on it,” he says, sounding more brave. How cute.

You hum in approval as you plant a kiss on the flushed tip of his cock which elicits the sexiest moan you’ve heard from him all night. Your hips roll against nothing, seeking pleasure for the ache in your cunt, but you force yourself to ignore it. You can’t be selfish tonight.

You softly lick at the sides before working on enveloping his length with your warm mouth. You bob your head up and down, relishing in the heavenly noises escaping his lips. You savor the taste of him as you slowly lift your head off to suckle at the tip before diving back in again, letting each inch tease against your throat. Your cheeks hollow out as you gaze up at him through your mascara covered lashes, letting your eyes go hazy with pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he heaves as he grips onto the hem of his shirt for an anchor. It’s all too much - your puffy lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth, the black tears trickling down your cheeks as you take him in for everything he’s got, the way you’re massaging his balls to heighten his pleasure. “I’m gonna-”

You pull all the way off, and you swear he almost cries.

“P-please, keep going. Please make me cum, I was almost there…” Tears bead along his lash line, and he desperately reaches for you. Your heart swells as you feel your emotions crash over you at the sight of the man you love crying for you to make him orgasm. How far you’ve come since those melancholy nights on the kitchen floor.Their sacrifices weren’t in vain after all. 

You smile up at him and proceed to pleasure him in the way you can - the way he deserves. The lewd slurping sounds you make fill the air, and he tries not to thrust harshly into your mouth, but it’s all too overwhelming when you’re sucking his cock like it’s your favorite thing to do in the world.

He throws his head back and lets out a high-pitched moan as he bursts into your waiting mouth. You swallow his load, savoring the taste of his cum and trying to commit the feeling of it all into your memory. You pull off of his softening cock and press kisses to his twitching thighs as you observe his blissful state. His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. His cheeks are as flushed as ever and a bit of drool has escaped onto his chin. 

“Th-thank you,” he breathes.

“The pleasure was all mine.” You help him get fully dressed again and capture his lips in one more kiss.

“Do you maybe want to come over tonight? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to… I-I just don’t think I want to be alone right now.” His eyes are begging, and who are you to deprive them of their desires?

“I’d love to.” You smile sweetly at him and take his hand to lead him to the car, winking up at the stars as you do.