#might pop back in to doodle little more later

[copper-skulls]

some of my doodles on @findmeabowlofundertale 's whiteboard!! was very fun :]

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[cure-orchid]

So I know the show recently ended, but I ended up binging through TGAMM and loved it! The Ghost Friends are all mood and the Mollie ship is adorable. Then I learned about the Chairman Ollie arc for the scrapped third season and IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO COOL TO SEE!

I ended up writing down how I would imagine the story arc going down, and I headcanon that several of the planned season 3 eps (minus the ones that would clash with the finale) happened between JVTHM and The End (Ollie knowing about the wraith memory loss and how he says it could have hinted that it already occurred.)

My Chairman Ollie plotline: It starts with what was outlined in the already written scripts, and Ollie keeps spending more and more time in the Ghost World rather than on Earth. He’s becoming a little more forgetful as the episodes pass and has noticeable headaches. Things like his parents having a Root Beer Bar or the plot of the latest Country Pumpkin movie seem to surprise him when he should already know about them.

He’s missed a few dates with Molly and slipping on schoolwork so she takes an episode trying to talk to him at school but he keeps getting pulled away to fix something as the Chairman. The episode would really drive in how his human memories are failing even when he reconnects with his body and there’s a whole musical number on how Molly feels he’s growing distant. She finally catches up to him in the end and he looks partway between normal and being an empty shell(his hair is even losing the swoop!). She asks him out for ice cream but then we get a wham line “Sure, but… who are you?” Molly’s heart literally breaks as she discovers Ollie has lost all memory of her. He excuses himself and leaves Molly crying with Scratch and Libby coming to console her.

Next episode the remaining Ghost Friends are trying to figure out what’s wrong with him when June comes to Molly’s house trying not to panic. Ollie’s shell came home yesterday but not his wraith and he’s still not back. Molly, Libby and Darryl go to the Chen’s while Scratch goes to the Ghost World to see what’s keeping him. He finds Ollie still obsessively trying to engoodify the Ghost World and his orange glow is much more faded. Worse, when Scratch calls him by his name he asks who Ollie is. Libby manages to discover a page in her pop-up book that was stuck to another and reveals wraiths can lose their memories the longer they spend away from their body and without the will to live they cannot fully rejoin the two halves. Scratch arrives and with all they know they make a plan. Molly, Scratch and the Chen’s go to the Ghost World while Darryl and Libby keep an eye on their bodies. They get to Ollie and he doesn’t recognize anyone but Scratch, but has no emotional attachment to him. Big musical number as they all try to help Ollie remember but it doesn’t work. Everyone is devastated and it seems like Ollie might be gone forever.

Molly doesn’t give up, she pulls down his hood and cups his face, (this is where the drawing is) telling Ollie that she loves him and gives him their first kiss. Her yellow sparks course through him and his orange glow regains it’s color… and he regains his memories. When they pull away, Olly says her name and he’s pulled into a group hug as he says everyone’s names. He leaves the robe and hurries back into his body. A few hours later it’s just him, Molly and Scratch when the ghost council arrives. I haven’t come up with what happens to the robe but Ollie does relinquish his title as chairman and Scratch pulls the council away. Now alone, Ollie didn’t get to say it back in the ghost world, but he loves Molly too. They have another kiss and lean their foreheads together afterwards… and then Scratch comes back complaining that they already sucked faces once today already.

Update 5/27: Yep, I’m turning this into a fanfic. I said I wouldn’t but I got the inspiration on how to do it! It’s called ‘Record of an Engoodifier’

Also bonus doodles:

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Dinner and a Show

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, loves 🖤

English has always been your favorite subject. There’s something magical about the way twenty-six letters woven together in just the right combination can have a story coming to life, painting a picture behind your eyelids as your brain processes the lines on the page before you. It’s why you applied for graduate school as an English major.

But if your professor uses the phrase duality of man one more time, you might just blow your brains out.

You find yourself doodling random patterns in the corner of your notebook as your thoughts drift to a certain brooding brunette who would likely have much to say about Dostoevsky’s protagonist.

The unsub is a white male, twenty to thirty years old, with narcissistic personality disorder who struggles to reconcile his mediocre place in society with what he believes to be an above-average intelligence. 

Your phone buzzing on the desk beside you breaks you out of your reverie, and you flip it over to see a notification from your bank. A grin threatens to split your face in half as you open your messaging app and scroll down to AH 🖤.

Were your ears ringing? I was just thinking about you 😍

Before you have a chance to lock your phone, the speech bubble pops up and taunts you with its three flashing dots. It disappears, reappears, and then your phone buzzes once more.

I know you have class. Pay attention.

Says the guy who just distracted me with a nice little pre-weekend deposit

Is that your way of saying thank you, brat?

You feel a familiar heat prickling the back of your neck and take a quick look around to make sure your classmates are focused on the lecture. Hiding your phone in your lap, you hunt through recent pictures until you find a specific photo: a shot of your body from the neck down, clad in a lacy red set that barely counts as underwear. Attaching the image to your text, you shoot back a response.

No Daddy... THIS is 🥰

Shuffling from all around you alerts you to the fact that class has mercifully ended, and you stand to gather your things, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You make plans to meet up with a classmate at a coffee shop on Sunday to peer edit each other’s final papers for the course, then start your trek to the parking lot. As you approach your car, your phone begins vibrating incessantly and you tuck it between your ear and shoulder after accepting the call. “House of Hotchner’s whores, how may I serve you today?”

You receive an exasperated sigh in response, but you can hear the grin behind it. “What if it wasn’t me on the other end, hm?”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, you give your phone a moment to connect to the Bluetooth system before firing back, “No one else calls me, old man.”

“This old man can easily revoke the allowance he just gave you.” He speaks in a low murmur, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s making this illicit call from his office.

“Wow,” you laugh warmly, “you just went from Daddy to Dad in record time.”

“Please, for both of our sakes, don’t ever say that again.” Another laugh punches out of you and you relent, “Deal.” Then, after a beat, “Are you still coming over tonight?”

He sighs again, this time with true remorse. “No, angel, I’m sorry. We just got a case out in LA.”

“Alright, go save the world, Mister Unit Chief,” you tease. “I’ll do the hard work of keeping you entertained while you’re gone.”

His voice drops even lower, now tinged with a gruffness that sends a bolt of heat through your body. “Thank you, Princess. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I know you will,” you purr, knowing that the longer wait will make your reunion all the more satisfying. “Be safe.”

“Always.” You go to hang up the phone but pause when you hear him take a breath. “Princess?”

“Hm?”

“Get something purple this time.”

_____

Several hours and a stupid amount of money to be spent in one shopping spree later, you trundle up the stairs to your second floor apartment, arms laden with shopping bags. You let yourself in before closing and locking the door behind you, then head down the hallway to drop your purchases off in your bedroom. After a luxurious bath to wash the grime of the week away, you pull on one of Aaron’s t-shirts from your steadily growing collection and are preparing to settle on the couch to peruse takeout options when a knock sounds at the door. As if on cue, your phone lights up on the nightstand with a text.

Dinner’s on me, angel. Sorry I’m not there to enjoy it with you.

A pleasant warmth settles in your bones at Aaron’s thoughtfulness, and you open the door to find a delivery from your favorite Vietnamese restaurant and a bottle of Moscato to accompany it. After getting comfortable with your dinner on the couch, you hunt through your rented movies for the Fifty Shades trilogy and press play before typing out a response.

Keep spoiling me like this and I won’t know how to act

You’re my Princess- You deserve to be spoiled.

A giggle bubbles out of you and you resist the urge to kick your feet like a teenager with a raging crush. Instead, you opt for a much more dignified reply.

Thank you Daddy 🥰

With twenty minutes remaining in the sequel, feeling emboldened by several glasses of wine and the content playing before you, you send another text to Aaron.

I can’t wait to show you what I spent all your hard earned money on today 😘

He has yet to answer by the time the credits are rolling and you recall that, much to your dismay, he’s three hours behind you and probably still at the local precinct. Deciding that you’ll read to pass the time, you finish off your wine and put your leftovers in the fridge before heading to your bedroom. You open up a video call on your laptop and send an invitation to join to Aaron, then settle back against your pillow with your latest novel.

A few chapters in, you recognize that trying to distract yourself is a feeble affair when your eyes gloss over the same paragraph several times in a row. Giving up on the book, you place it on your nightstand and let your hands wander your body just as Aaron’s would. Wearing his shirt has you cocooned in his distinct smell, and you can’t help but close your eyes and imagine he’s there with you, touching you, teasing you. Desperately wishing it was his large hands caressing your curves instead of your own, you gently cup your breasts and roll your nipples between your fingers, hips arching upward of their own accord in search of some friction. You ignore the budding heat between your thighs, continuing to play with your nipples and enjoying the way the soft fabric of Aaron’s shirt heightens every sensation. Before long, soft pants are falling past your lips and your panties are soaked with your arousal.

One hand comes down to grip the edge of Aaron’s shirt as the other dips beneath the band of your underwear. You take it slow, drawing languid circles around your core, and you can practically hear the low rumble of his voice against the shell of your ear, telling you that You haven’t earned it yet. Sliding your middle finger between your folds, you try to imagine it’s Aaron’s thick cock, right where you want it but not giving in. He loves to watch you fall apart before he’s even inside you, letting your slick gather along his cock, the tip nudging against your clit now and then. The very thought has a low whine building in your throat, and you brush the pad of your finger over your sensitive button to draw out the fantasy.

Unable and unwilling to deny yourself any longer, you hook your thumbs into your panties and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off across the room. Your middle finger circles your nub once more, and then you ease two fingers into your core until your knuckles stop you from pressing any further. You whimper at the sensation, pleased with the fullness but frustrated it’s just not right, aching for Aaron to work his magic on your body. Letting out a determined huff, you clamp down on your bottom lip and begin working your fingers in and out of your pussy in earnest, your other hand coming down to collect your slick and spread it over your nub. You dig your heels into the mattress, raising your hips to try and mimic the angle of Aaron fucking into you, steadily increasing the speed of your fingers as pathetic little mewls fall past your parted lips. Your whines turn into full blown moans, and your cries are rising in pitch when you realize you’re no longer alone.

“Got tired of waiting for me, huh, Princess?”

Putting a pause on your self-care, you blink the haze of arousal out of your bleary eyes and find Aaron seated at a desk, presumably in his hotel room. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the top two buttons of his crisp white button down undone and showing off a tantalizing sliver of chest. His mouth is set in a hard line in an attempt at disapproval, but even through the slightly grainy image you can spot the gleam in his smoldering eyes.

Using your foot to nudge the laptop between your legs, you give Aaron a clear view of your fingers resuming their path of easing in and out of your soaking wet pussy. You simper, “Just getting warmed up for you, Daddy.”

“What a good girl,” he breathes out, gaze locked on your core. “Turn towards me, let me see all of you.”

You obediently change positions, scooting your laptop back so he can see a majority of your body, and his breath hitches when he spots the shirt you have on. “Is that mine?”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes fluttering shut as your middle finger circles your clit, and nod. “I hope you don’t- fuck- mind. Smells like you.”

“Whatever makes my little girl happy,” he says, and you nearly purr at the name. When you open your eyes again, you pout at the sight of him still in the same position. He picks up on your disappointment immediately and asks, “What is it?”

“Can you-” Your cheeks grow warm with a sudden shyness and you duck your head before softly requesting, “Wanna see you, Daddy.”

He raises one eyebrow at you, arms crossed, fixing you with that look. “Daddy’s right here for you to see. Use your words and tell me what you really want.”

A shudder races down your spine at his commanding tone coupled with your thumb brushing over your clit, and you suddenly find your voice. “What I really want is your fingers in my mouth and your fat cock in my pussy but-” A wanton moan interrupts your thought as your fingers curl against the perfect spot. “Right now I’d settle for just seeing your cock.”

“Was that so hard?”

You smirk at him as he rises from the desk and moves to the bed, settling in a reflection of your position with the laptop beside him. “Not as hard as you are right now.”

“Bold of you to assume, little one.” He laughs at how quickly you’ve adopted your brazen attitude, the sound rich and warm as it fills every corner of your bedroom.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you challenge, slowly drawing your fingers out of your pussy.

You hear him unzip his work slacks, the familiar sound sending yet another bolt of heat to your core, before he growls out, “I can’t.”

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, utterly mesmerized by the sight before you. Aaron is lazily fisting his rock hard cock, pausing to swipe his thumb over the head and gather the precum there before gliding his hand down to the base and gently squeezing until the vein on the underside is pulsing and your mouth is watering. Your body responds instinctively, walls clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled, your clit throbbing with need. Gathering the fresh wave of arousal dripping down your thighs, you press your fingers back into your hole and let out a frustrated cry. “It’s not enough.”

“Look at me,” Aaron says, his voice gentle but commanding, always in tune with what you need. You lift your gaze to meet his on the screen and he continues, “You’re not going to bed until we get you to cum, do you understand?”

You nod, and he praises you with a small smile. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Princess,” he begins, your eyes tracking his every movement as he slowly works his hand over his length. “You’re going to put three fingers in your mouth- go ahead, do it now,” he encourages, waiting for you to place your index, middle, and ring fingers in your mouth before continuing, “and get them nice and wet for me. Close your eyes and imagine they’re mine. Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

You close your eyes and mumble an affirmative around your fingers while your head drops into a nod, the taste of your own arousal bursting over your tongue as you swirl it around the digits. “Such a good girl,” Aaron coos, and you once again clench around nothing at the pride woven through his words. “You just love having my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you cry, the sound muffled by your digits as drool slips out between the corner where your lips meet.

“Now take your fingers out of your mouth and let me see those beautiful eyes.” You do as he says, eager to please, and Aaron lets out a ragged, “Fuck,” at the sight of your lust-blown pupils framed by delicate lashes. “Slide your fingers into that pretty little pussy all the way, then hold still for me. Just like when I’m fucking you, yeah, Princess?”

Your mouth drops open and you take a shuddering breath at the stretch. “Now what?”

“You’re going to watch me and do exactly what I do. Your fingers, my cock. Got it?” A slow grin spreads across your face and you nod eagerly, understanding his premise. He slides his fist up the length of his cock and you ease your fingers out of your pussy, perfectly matching his unhurried pace. “Good girl,” Aaron breathes out, “just like that.”

He slowly builds up to a steady rhythm, the sound of his fist repeatedly meeting his pelvis joining with your fingers pulsing in and out of your sopping cunt to form a depraved symphony. You watch your lover on the other side of the country, transfixed by the way his typical stoicism is dissolving before you into guttural moans and hedonistic cries of your name. He bites down on his lip, determined to not break eye contact with you as you both fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut from pure pleasure. Aaron tugs his tie off and tosses it away, then hurriedly unbuttons his shirt, all the while working his fist over his length. Even in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his skin, and saliva pools in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue over every delicious inch of him when he returns home. You tell him as much, in vivid detail, and he releases a low groan that reverberates throughout your room.

“I’m so close, Daddy,” you whine, and you see his pace beginning to falter as well.

“I know you are, Princess. Doing so well for me,” he pants, now squeezing the base of his cock on every downstroke. With Aaron, you always come first- in every sense of the word. “I need you to cum for me. Need you to clench that pretty pussy around my cock so I can fill you up. That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” you cry out, feeling your walls clamp down around your fingers in response to his words. “Gonna be a good girl for you, Daddy,” you babble, “always wanna be your good girl.” Your entire body tenses and your breath stutters in your throat just before the coil deep in your belly snaps and a desperate cry of Aaron’s name bounces off the walls of your bedroom. His moans grow louder and longer, his cock feverishly thrusting up into his hand until he finally gives in to his orgasm, thick ropes of cum coating his hand and stomach.

Lying back in bed to give yourself a few beats to calm your erratic breathing, you quip, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous of a hand before.”

You hear Aaron’s warm laugh from a distance and then he’s filling your screen once more, now clean and fully sans clothing. “Trust me when I say the feeling is mutual.”

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you smile at the handsome man before you. “You know what my next purchase is gonna be?”

“Enlighten me.”

“A mold of your cock so I’m never without you.”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs immediately. “Then you won’t need me anymore.”

“Of course I’ll still need you! Who else is going to fund my lavish lifestyle?”

He grunts, unenthused, the hint of a smile making his lips twitch. “Brat.”

You scrunch your nose in delight and grin at him. “Thank you for my little shopping spree today. And for tonight, of course.”

“My pleasure, angel,” he answers warmly. “Same time tomorrow, if our case continues on this trajectory.”

With a playful laugh, you tease, “You wish.”

He grows serious, mouth setting in a hard line. “I’m sorry, Princess, you mistook that for a question- it wasn’t.”

“Yes, sir, Mister Unit Chief,” you respond through a nervous giggle with a mock salute.

“That’s my girl,” he breaks into a soft smile once more. “Get yourself cleaned up, drink some water, and get a good night’s rest, okay?”

You nod obediently and blow him a kiss. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” You go to exit the call, then stop when he calls your name, raising an eyebrow in question. “Save what you bought until I get home. I want to see you in my shirt again tomorrow.”

_____

Hotch taglist: @gothwifehotchner

[felagund-the-valiant]

In All Shapes and Sizes - Beleg x shapeshifter!reader

Love comes in all shapes and sizes. Beleg got to experience this first-hand.

Words: 612

Tags: fluff

A/N: a tiny little something I wrote for @doodle-pops underrated character event :D

A chill lay in the air, announcing the slow approach of autumn. The leaves crackled ever so slightly under his boots as Beleg tread the narrow path that led to your shared home, humming absentmindedly. The birds overhead seemed to pick up on his song and joined in with cheerful chirps and coos, entirely unbothered by his presence. A couple of deer trotted through the forest, watching him curiously before going separate ways. He spotted fresh paw prints on the same trail he was walking on – his tracking abilities told him they were left by a fox. A knowing smirk crossed his face, and he sped up his pace ever so slightly, wondering if he could catch up before either of you reached home.

Mere moments later, Beleg heard a rustle in the bushes but couldn’t spot anything moving, or so he thought. A flash of red fur appeared in the corner of his eyes out of nowhere and he felt a pair of arms and legs wrap around his body as you leapt into his arms. He stumbled back a little and let out a breathless laugh.  “Slow down there,” he gasped as he set you back on the ground, but you paid him no mind. “How I have missed you, meleth. Are you well? Any wounds that need tending to?” You scanned his body and did a gentle pat down. “I’m fine, no need to worry.” Beleg stopped your hands from wandering by taking them into his own and smiling reassuringly at you. “You know I’m always careful. And more than capable of tending to wounds, as you should know.” You lowered your head bashfully at his comment, catching the reference to your first meeting.

It had been more than unexpected. One rainy day, Beleg had found himself nursing a poor hurt fox he had encountered while on patrol and was more than surprised when a couple of days later an Elf was sitting in his hut with no sign of the fox. He had heard rumours of so-called shapeshifters from other wardens but never thought he would see one in the flesh, much less fall in love with one. Many a times he had asked you if you wouldn’t come live with him in the city, but you refused, preferring the solitude of the forest to the hustle and bustle of civilisation. It wasn’t difficult for him to make the decision to join you in living in nature and he had never once regretted it. Living with the one he loved was worth more than any comfort the city could ever hope to offer and he had already spent large portions of his life in the forest anyway.

“Race you home?” You asked excitedly and he snorted. “I return after a long watch, and you want me to physically exert myself even more? Also, we both know I don’t stand chance. You just want to brag about winning again,” Beleg teased. In your Elven form he might have been able to outrun you with ease, but foxes were faster than the Elves and he knew you would not pick the easy route for him. You sighed dramatically and he halted any complaints you might voice by bending down and kissing your forehead. “All I want right now is to be home, enjoy a good meal and cosy up with my beloved. Does that sound good to you as well?” You bit your bottom lip and pretended to ponder his request before nodding. You stood on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his lips and interlaced your fingers with his. “That sounds wonderful, actually. Let’s go.”

[dulltoned]

I know I mostly just ask random thoughts about brozone and how unbelievably angsty they are but

What about any headcannons about brozone? Individually or as brozone as a whole?

-🦦

(Also happy holidays!!)

Oh, that's a fun question. I genuinely haven't put too much conscious thought into it but I have a few that I can share off the top of my head.

There's at least one headcanon involving Branch in there for all of them but I might follow up with more headcanon posts somewhere down the line. (Excuse the funny little doodles, I wanted to see if I could make decent headers and I did... okay.)

-> He doesn't like being alone. He didn't spend the twenty-some years after BroZone broke up just on his own in the Neverglades but instead hopping around from place to place looking for new experiences and new people to meet. He'd always go back to the Neverglade Trail, though. Just in case someone needed him.

-> It was still really lonely but he never thought too much about his brothers or the Troll Tree. He's an expert at denial and avoidance.

-> He's pushy with Branch because he wants to try and help Branch be more open and direct with him but he doesn't really know how to sit down and have a serious conversation about it.

-> He's not stupid. He can be unobservant and a bit full of himself but he has a good head on his shoulders.

-> He and Branch bond over survivalist tips.

-> He was worried he was going to be a bad father. He still had a lot of stuff he was working on when he and Brandy had their first kid and he was old enough that he really didn't remember his dad. He certainly didn't want to emulate John Dory. He knew they'd be okay the second he saw his son in Brandy's arms for the first time.

-> Brandy helped him get over the toxic mindset BroZone gave him and while he can still struggle sometimes he's never been happier.

-> Amazing cook. His food is amazing. Cooking, baking, it's all divine.

-> He cooks for Branch a lot when he visits. At first it's because he couldn't get the image of his baby brother out of his head but then it was because Branch had confessed that no one really cooked for him before and he just couldn't have that.

-> Clay chose the admin building as his room back when he was still desperate to be anything other than the fun boy. He regrets it.

-> He and Viva have bonded a lot about their family traumas, especially over how much they missed their siblings. He never wanted to stay away as long as he had but after they found refuge in the Golf Course he never got the courage to leave Viva behind to go find his brothers.

-> Clay's hair just naturally changed color with age. It wasn't stress-induced or anything, it just happened. Like how some blonds change to brunette when they get older.

-> He really likes crossword puzzles and sudoku. It has nothing to do with his desire to distance himself from his fun persona. He's just a nerd.

-> He really enjoys Branch's input. Branch is an incredibly handy, if not a bit paranoid, realist who isn't afraid to share his opinions. It's really helpful when it comes to safety measures or even trying to avoid complicated emotions.

-> Floyd may be alive but he doesn't recover fast. The effects of the diamond vacuum (exhaustion, weakness in the limbs, a chill in his bones, dizziness, etc.) linger with him for years afterward and he finds it incredibly frustrating.

-> Floyd is such a smug little shit. He will give you shit and tease you to hell and back and then give you the most innocent smile immediately after.

-> He moves into Pop Village after he's rescued. It reminds him a lot of the Troll Tree when he was a kid and it's bittersweet.

-> He finds out about Branch's puzzle tradition and the two of them start doing daily puzzles together.

-> Floyd's pod is in the clearing where Branch's bunker is.

Surprisingly I don't really know what to put for Branch here but I think I'll reblog this later with additions for Branch and Poppy.

I hope you enjoy the holidays, thanks for the fun question.

[famouskidpainter]

Terrifying Wrath

Call of duty modern warfare 2

Included characters: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Simon 'Ghost' Riley,John 'Soap' MacTavish, John Price

Warning: Violence and mention of violence

Pov: Second point of view

You were a gunsmith who has repaired, customized, modified, designed, and even built many various types of firearms for Task141 for many years. You were known for your skills, dedication, commitment, and hard-work during your time surveying as well as always having your face concealed behind a hyottoko mask-causing many recruits and some of Task141 to wonder what your face might look like without the mask-but you're far more well-known for one thing and that is..your short yet utterly terrifying temper, making the toughest and hardest solider in the base to tremble in fear.

Price:

He highly respects and admires your work and dedication as well as hard-work.

Every so often, he would stop and pop by your workshop to merely say hi and see how you're doing or to just simply leave a plate of food on your desk as you often attend to forget to take care of yourself due to getting caught up with work.

When you're not working on something in your workshop, you and Price would usually go to a nearby Cafe and talk about whatever and enjoy a coffee with one another, but you didn't speak a whole lot and he didn't mind at all if you didn't speak as he also attends to not speak alot often, preferring to merely listen. So, you both would just simply drink one another's coffee in comfortable silence as people chattering in the background filled the Cafe.

You both have a modest and good relationship due to spending time and working alongside one another for many years. He may or may not know what your face looks like ;)

And..he knows of your infamous temper as he experienced first-hand..Due to losing a firearm you built for him after a mission in the Artic back in his younger years.

Let's just say..he learned to take extra care of the firearms you delivered to him till to this very day.

"YOU DAMN UTTER FOOL! HOW DARE YOU LOSE MY PRECIOUS COLT M-4 SOPMOD! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO MAKE YOU THAT KIND OF FIREARM!?" You roared, jabbing your index finger against Price's cheek with brutal force. "Owowowowow! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" Price tried to explain himself, but was promptly cut off by you now screaming in his ear, nearly causing his eardrums to bleed. "DIDN'T MEAN TO?! DIDN'T MEAN TO MY ASS! YOU RUINIED A MONTH'S WORK!" You proceeded to jab your index finger against his cheek, but with more force than before while chewing him out alive.

Later, Laswell was able to calm you down after buying and giving you your favorite food, mitarashi dango-Price was mentally thanking whichever God in his head as Laswell unknowingly or knowingly saved his ass that day.

Laswell sometimes would tease Price referring to the incident and he would go silent as his face turns a bright shade of red of embarrassment.

He even shudders at the mere memory of it, praying that he doesn't relive that incident again. But, his prayers weren't heard as..one day, he again lost a firearm of yours during a mission.

Soap:

He also respects and admires your work and dedication as well as hard-work.

He would come and barg in your workshop, almost daily..Much to your dismay.

He would also stand beside you beside you while you worked on repairing or building a firearm as well as constantly asking you questions of every little thing you do..You remember the many times you had forcefully kicked out Soap from your workshop as you couldn't work in peace without him getting on your neck.

He has drawings and doodles of you in his sketchbook..Not exactly as he would normally use or make assumptions on how your face looks like without the mask due to that he has never seen you without it.

And..He also knows of your infamous temper..As he may or may not have lost or damage far to many firearms to the point where he had to beg you on his knees to make him another because he either lost or damaged it.. He still remembers the letter you sent him and it wasn't entirely pleasant..

"Hey Ghost, has Y/n come by as I'm still waiting for that new gun." Soap said, folding his arms over his chest as he stood in front of Ghost's desk. "Hmm..they did and they told me to give this to you." Ghost responded back as he placed his pen down on top of the slightly scattered papers, reaching down and pulling open a drawer from his desk and taking out an envelope from within it, handing it to Soap. "Thanks.." Soap stated, grabbing the envelope from Ghost and opened it. After Soap pulled the letter from the envelope and read it, he stared at the letter with a nervous and terrified expression as bits of sweat began to form on his forehead. "What does it say?" Ghost asked, briefly glancing up from the paperwork on his desk while continuing to fill them out. Soap didn't responded back as he merely stared at the letter in his hands before finally being able to speak once again.

"Hey Ghost..do you happen to know what is y/n's favorite food?"

It took a lot of convincing, begging and mitarashi dango to get you to forgive Soap and to give him a new firearm..after giving him a threat if he even lost or broke it, then you'll make sure to make his death slow and painful as well as appearing like a mere accident.

He promised that he wouldn't break or lose it..he hoped that you wouldn't do exactly what you threatened to do to him as he might of lost it..again.

*Pretend it says "I have no gun for you".*

I'll make a part 2, but with Gaz and Ghost. Please be patient with me and have a good day/night.

[soldrawzz]

"Fox Chase" - A Super Short Moomin FanFic

A friend of mine and I were chatting on instagram when we came across an ADORABLE little video of a red fox kit prancing in some wildflowers (fox zoomies, so cute!) It got me thinking and in a spur-of-the-moment move I wrote a super short Moomin Valley oneshot Fic. My friend encouraged me to share it here for others to read. I'd like to invite anyone who feels compelled to doodle/draw/sketch for this lil fic idea to go ahead and do so (I might try as well at some point). Be sure to share it with me if you do so I can see what amazing stuff you came up with!! HAPPY SPRING EVERYONE!!

FIC BELOW

Moomintroll awoke earlier than usual. A whisper called out through his dreams from deep inside him; Something Needed To Be Seen. Rather than roll over and sleep away the feeling he rose from his bed, stretched with a yawn and peeked tired eyes out his foggy window into the early morning light. The sun hadn't quite made it over the mountain peaks yet. The valley was blanketed in a thick fog, obscuring most in view beyond the forest tree line. The whisper grew stronger within, compelling him to abandon the cozy warmth of his room and walk out into the stirring world.

Something Needed To Be Witnessed.

With a sigh Moomin pried open his window, stepped over the frosted ledge and slid down the makeshift ladder, landing with a gentle 'thump' upon the dewy grass. Away he marched across the bridge, glancing sideways to greet his blurred reflection and off he went into the beckoning woods.

At first he wandered aimlessly, admiring the shifts and swirls of the fog as he stumbled over logs, tiptoed around melting patches of snow, until the tug from inside drew his attention to a small animal trail. The trail was only slightly overgrown with dormant weeds; he was certain he hadn't seen it before winter and surely wouldn't have otherwise noticed if not for the nagging feeling demanding he follow it, sooner rather than later. Onto the path he stepped, pace hastened until a ways away Moomin found himself led to a clearing along the hillside. A gentle breeze rustled the early spring flowers ready in waiting for the mist to clear, to meet the rising sun. Still more the feeling called to him, Witness Me, See Me. Moomintroll stepped into the clearing and the world fell silent. The early birds roosted and waited, the trees stood tall, still. He forced himself to breathe, slow, deliberate breaths despite every fiber of his being screaming to hold it in for fear of drowning out the now bellowing call; Watch, See, Observe.

Moomin crouched low to the ground, the grass tickling his chest and chin as he met the moist earth, and waited. Sunbeams broke through the clouds, drifting lazily above the clearing. The fog began to clear in patches as the steam from the heated earth forced it up and away. The purple and pink flowers began to pop into life, opening bit by bit to the inviting warmth of the greeting sun. Still Moomintroll waited, waited. Watching...

A rustle in the trees, A Call, A Cry, A Whistle, A Tune. A song grew in his heart, familiar and longing, loving. He knew now what was coming before he saw but still he waited as his mind and heart caught up with his line of sight. In the distance, across the meadow a small green figure approached the field. Soft footsteps, barely audible, made their way to the edge of the clearing and halted mere inches from the buds.

The figure slid something heavy off his shoulders, dropped it beside his feet and proceeded to remove a pair of old, time worn boots. He then removed a tall green hat from his head and placed it up against the trunk of an adjacent tree. Moomin clasped his hand over his mouth as the figure stepped cautiously into the clearing, carefully weaving between patches of pink and purple, head whipping back and forth like a deer screening the horizon for signs of threat or disturbance in the otherwise tranquil meadow. The coast was clear. Moomintroll was not spotted. He observed as the pull in his heart, the humming voice in his head began to bellow to Watch, To See. His urge to rush upon his friend only just outweighed by his curiosity at the site of Snufkin gingerly sneaking his way to the center of the field. The boy in the tattered green cloak took one more look around before glancing upward to the sky, almost directly into the sun, standing firm and rooted, as if to dare the sun to beam down on him with all it's might. He took in a deep, audible breath, held it. The voice within Moomin suddenly went quiet and he looked on in puzzlement...

The boy raised his arms above his head, stepped forward a few inches with a single toe and with a shout as high as a whistle and jolly as an elf, Snufkin rolled! Cartwheeled into the flowers! He leapt and bounced and ran in a circle, bounded back to chase a tail that was not there. He doubled back and ran from one end of the clearing to the other, laughter like blue bells tinkling in the morning sun. And the world breathed! The birds chirped, the trees swayed, the breeze whipped Snufkin's hair about his face, tugged at the snowy tufts of Moomin's fur as he stared in bewilderment through the tickling grass.

Moomin stifled a startled laugh, the call in his heart returning in full force, changing it's tune. Join Me, Come, Let's Play! And Snufkin danced on in the Spring-filled meadow, relishing the sun and singing back to the breeze, to the trees, to the birds and the bees. A newfound courage overtook Moomintroll, drove him to leap into the clearing and cartwheel into his friend.

Snufkin fell to his knees with a gasp, and stared down the troll in shock. He panted, winded, eyes wide and frenzied; Moomin's own bashful but hopeful. The boy lifted himself from the ground, brushed off his coat with a long sigh. Moomin looked around confused as the silence between them seemed to still the breeze and a cloud passed over the sun, it's shadow engulfing the entire pasture and accentuating the last of the mist that still clung to the treetops. Where did the voice go? What happened to the song?

"Well then..." Snufkin finally spoke after a long pause. "Best get ready." His voice was stern, scratchy from lack of use. How long had it been since they'd seen each other? Spoken to one another? As Moomin glanced up the clouds cleared, the sun returned, willing away the last of the fog to feed the hungry needles of the pine trees. A small hand reached out to the troll. Moomin, shyly, took the hand and hoisted himself up, dusted off his portly belly and made to apologize for disturbing his friend's (very odd) ritual....

"To the boulder and back!" Snufkin roared and OFF like a bullet he ran to the far end of the field. Moomin nearly toppled again in his bewilderment. Chase! Chase! Run, Tag, You're It! The voice rang out and without a second though he dashed away after his friend, never to overcome him, for how could he really? A wild spirit like Snufkin couldn't be caught, couldn't be tamed, but to be invited into the revelry when the song beckoned them, how could Moomintroll resist the chase? Spring had finally come. Welcome Home, a mirthful voice rang out, and Moomintroll couldn't tell whether or not it was his own.

(The End)

[bell3hound]

✦ Artist Introduction + Looking for Art Mutuals

+ I also write a bit too with photography on the side

A bit about me

✧My name is Bell3Hound or just Bell or 3? I am an traditional and digital artist who is soon moving to the middle of nowhere-ish (I'm a bit excited about it really)

✧ I am 20 and going to college to study concept art or phycology? (Is that how you spell it?)

✧ I started a new years resolution to draw at least a sketch or even doodle everyday, its been going pretty well so far

+ I also wanted to write a short paragraph story every week since why not?

✧ I want to write and/or draw a book one day of my own story or a comic (but I'm to much of a perfectionist to start...so fan-comics for now)

✧ I also watch random 1950's-2010's shows lost to time so yeah

+ While sometimes drawing my own oc's...of said show...

✧ I draw on Clip Studio + IbisPaintX (phone) + Gaomon Drawing tablet and Monitor and I also borrow Procreate (I have adult money now, someone should take my wallet)

Likes

Reading, Writing, and Drawing

Shows: Httyd, Running Man, Big Hero 6, Gravity Falls, EAH, Little Witch Academy, Winx, %100 Wolf, Merlin BBC, Miraculous Ladybug, TrollHunters, Sluggterra, Student Spirit, Ninjago, etc.

Anime: Overlord, Spy x Family, Mashle, Nanbaka, BNHA/MHA, Trigun/Vash the Stampede, The Vampire Dies in no time, Bakuman, etc.

Music: 1920's, Frank Sinatra, electro swing (caravan palace), and classical

Books: The Cruel Prince, Jonathan Strange & Mr.Norrel, Howls Moving Castle, etc.

I more than welcome/encourage art trades or just encouragement on any current or past drawings, so lets support each other!

if you have any similar interest of one of these just message me, don't be shy! I was/am nervous (and a bit embarrassed) writing all this to the internet to see, but I need to socialize a little or else I'm gonna start talking to the funko pop's I have in my room (and they might talk back sooner or later)

here my linktree but it pretty much has all of this stuff already

[pleasantlyinsincere]

May Pang, Sunday Mirror December 14, 1980

MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH LENNON - I didn't steal her man - by Tony Frost

John Lennon's secret love has talked for the first time about her "beautiful and tender" affair with the tragic superstar.

Chinese beauty May Pang has fought back the tears and said: "I still can't believe he is dead. Now he is gone, I feel a part of me has died too." Lennon turned to May after breaking up with his Japanese wife Yoko Ono in 1973. They spent eighteen 'Idyllic' months together - living in Los Angeles for six months, then setting up a love-nest on New York's fashionable East Side, before Lennon eventually went back to Yoko.

Only a few close friends knew of Lennon's romance with May, who was once secretary to him and Yoko. The affair was deliberately concealed from fans.

May, 30 but looking ten years younger, overcame her grief at last week's assassination of the ex-Beatle to give me an exclusive interview at her Manhattan apartment. "They were such magical times", she said. "Thank God, no one can take away my precious memories. I count myself as a very lucky woman to have shared some of John's most tender moments, his private thoughts and, most of all, his love. John brought me more happiness than I could hope to find in a lifetime with another man."

May originally worked for apple, the Beatles recording company. She became very close to Yoko and helped her in women's lib campaigns. "I don't want to say anything that might be hurtful to Yoko", she said. "She was always very kind to me. I didn't steal her man - they had broken up before John and I became lovers. I know she is deeply upset, and my heart goes out to her. But I have shed as many tears as Yoko."

Last Monday night, when Mark Chapman pumped five bullets into Lennon outside his New York home, May was at a friend's flat half a mile away. "We had the radio on," said May. "The disc jockey suddenly interrupted saying 'John Lennon has been shot'. At first I thought it was some kind of a sick joke. The initial news flash said that John was wounded. A few minutes later it was announced that he was at the hospital being operated on. I began shuddering and held my breath. I prayed that it wasn't true, but the third bulletin revealed the awful truth - John was dead. I screamed hysterically for several minutes. I stayed in bed for two days, sobbing and just thinking of John. I couldn't eat or sleep - my body was so numb from shock."

TOO UPSET

"The only thing I managed to do was pull a call through to Yoko. One of her aides answered the phone, saying she was too upset to talk to me. I can understand her feelings. Perhaps she cannot forgive me for loving John as much as her, and I feel I have no right to intrude into her sorrow. I left a message that I would gladly to anything to help her or their little boy Sean."

May's flat is a shrine to Lennon. Two pictures that she took of John - one showing him shirtless on a beach in California, the other relaxing with ex-Beatles drummer Ringo Starr - take pride of place. A note that Ringo slipped through the door of their New York home is pinned on the wall. "Dear John and May, Popped round to see you. Will call again." May has all of Lennon'd records but her most treasured possession is a doodle he produced.

"He was talking about finding peace and tranquility in his twilight years," she said. "He sketched for several minutes and handed me a drawing of himself as a little old man. 'That's how I'll look, when I'm 64,' he told me."

Lennon obsessed with assassination during the early Beatlemania years, later curbed his fear of death. "His great desire was to grow old gracefully," said May. "Some people fear old age, but John actually looked forward to it."

May, who was nicknamed 'Mother superior' by Lennon because she loved to organise things at his recording sessions, now works for Rod Stewart's record company. She cuddled two pet cats as she told of the gentle side of Lennon.

"When he read about callous acts of violence throughout the world, he would take it all so personally. 'Guns are for cowboys in the movies,' he said. John wanted desperately to be accepted at the level of the ordinary man. He always shunned bodyguards, to avoid attention being drawn to him."

WITTY VERSES

In a magazine interview shortly before his death Lennon said he had sometimes beat up his women. "He was never like that with me," said May. "He was a kind, caring and gentle companion. We would often stay up until dawn discussing music and the world's problems. Sometimes as we lay in bed he would recite poetry - nothing heavy just little witty, amusing verses - or sing to me. He was a real romantic and I don't believe he was capable of hurting a fly."

Lennon's fling with May ended after he bumped into Yoko backstage at an Elton John concert in New York.

She suggested he should improve his health by cutting down on alcohol, losing weight and stopping smoking. An appointment was made for him to visit a hypnotist who treated heavy smokers. Friends say that after his first session in the hypnotist's chair Lennon walked "almost spell-bound" back to Yoko's flat. From then the two were inseperable.

"When John went back to Yoko I knew it was finished between us forever, because he was a loyal and honorable person", said May. He was faithful during our time together and since he returned to Yoko there was never any question of him looking at another woman."

The last time May spoke to Lennon was three years ago ata party at Regine's nightclub in New York. "He was very careful in his choice of words because Yoko never left his side," said May. "I believe he could sense that I had never stopped loving him. I will love him forever. There will always be a corner of my heart reserved for John Lennon.

Lennon's affair was observed by Chris Charlesworth, then American editor of Melody Maker.

Chris, 33, said in London: "He was obviously infatuated with May. Yoko thought it would be a short-lived fling while John sowed his wild oats. I don't think he could ever get Yoko out of his mind. He used to ring her every few days just to hear her voice."

Chris said: "Dying so young was something that never entered John's head. 'When I'm 64, Yoko and I will be a doddery old couple living in a tiny cottage in Ireland,' he said. "Yoko envisaged them growing all their own vegetable and milking a couple of goats every day."

Lennon gave the reason why the fab four could never perform together again.

He told Chris: "If we got our act together it wouldn't be as good as the old days. We're rusty old men." The world will now never know if he meant it.

[ayarnofpearls]

Since Alastor is girlie pop:

I needed to draw them bonding and kicking legs together. They are bonding over favorite body disposal methods during a sleep over.

(UH so I'll info dump about these under the cut lmao bc I love talking about death too much. Plus relationship dynamics!)

I need to work on Scurris feet more, because as a squirrel she can totally do shit like this:

And a lot of that has to do with the feet, which is part of why I draw her bare foot a lot. Part of her thing is that she's only really a physical fighter- she does lightly use her magic but girlie has to get good. Meanwhile she's gonna crawl up walls for pouncing advantage.

And yes Alastor still has his monocle on, (Scurri took her glasses off) He...might sleep with it on. I can't decide what'd be funnier. 🤔 this actually might be before this doodle now that I think about it.

@sunstar-of-the-north

I like to think given the time period Alastor knew where the hog farms were for body disposal. There's a bunch of old tales about pigs that they will eat anything in their pen and if a pig tastes human blood you gotta put it down because it'll get aggressive and try to go after people idk about the second one but pigs will absolutely eat humans! A lil prep before hand and well nomnom.

The gator bait is more of a joke because I don't think they are that effective at complete consumption but if he plotted it right he maybe could fool authorities that it was a gator death. Forensics wasn't as good back then.

Dinner is dinner, though it's not said if he was a cannibal in life or if he started in death.

My favorite body disposal method is tossing that body in a hole and planting a tree over it actually but what I mean by fertilizer here is the nitrogen gas frozen body then pulverized version. However composting does yield lovely fertilizer as well.

Aquamation is using water for cremation type effect leaving only bones behind for later powedering in a cremulator.

Funeral pyre is like you think, only instead of the 'viking funeral' which will burn out before cremation it's more of an open air bonfire with the body in the middle. Loved ones or hired people will continually feed the fire until completion. These can be lovely ceremonies as loved ones can bring flowers or other burnable memorabilia to add to the fire.

...

This actually all futher plays into the opposite but complementary nature of Scurri vs Alastor. Alastor of course thinks of the dead in terms of meat vs Scurri thinking of them in terms of meaningful disposition. Design wise I like that they are two sides of the same coin.

Scurri has to be a physical brawler vs Alastors magic allowing him distance in fights, he can dip dive dodge but could you imagine him kicking someone in the face? Highly unlikely. Scurri has to dress for fighting whenever possible and Alastor is afforded his sense of style that would otherwise make fist fighting difficult. Scurri being my self insert would actually like to wear delicate clothing but isn't afforded that luxury yet. Same with her short hair. Her tail is huge weak point I joke with my friends it's a 4 feet long handle attached to her spine so she keeps her hair short, dont need ANOTHER thing for opponents to grab onto. Vs Alastor who if he has a tail it would be comparatively shorter. Fucking try grabbing his tail. You can't because you're dead for trying.

Alastor is a prey animal that has completely overcome his form, Scurri is doing her best okay.

So why do they hang out and eventually become queer platonic partners? They make each other laugh. Yeah Jessica Rabbit said it best. Ace icon she is.

"What do you see in that guy?"

"He makes me laugh."

Anyway this wandered a little from the point BUT I do plan on actually writing a profile. Usually my inserts are just me in hats but I reworked Scurri and then you know, she did kill a guy to go to Hell which (knock on wood) I have most definitely not done. So she's both me and not me. Love that for her.

I have a whole lore background and she doesn't even go to the Hotel until her 3rd year of being in Hell due to finding a found family (tm) and such.

[daintyduck99]

leaving notes for Rulie plz

The last day of school is always ridiculously—

Julie pulls Flynn out of the way as a large trash can barrels by, sighing as cheers erupt around them and a jock pops out.

Chaotic. It's ridiculously chaotic.

She just hopes that the guys aren't too involved in the chaos. The last thing they need is to get in trouble on their very last day of school.

Her hands move faster at the thought, sweeping stuff she no longer needs into the nearest jockless can. She starts cramming other things into her backpack to sort later, mostly shirts and sweaters.

One of them looks like Reggie’s, and she pulls it out to confirm that, yes, it's a flannel she stole from him months ago.

Flynn takes the opportunity to rifle through Julie's locker as Julie pulls the flannel on, quickly reclaiming a few items of her own.

She wrinkles her nose at the thick notebook lying in the bottom of the locker.

"Ugh, Jules, throw that away already."

Julie takes it out gingerly, shaking her head. She hugs it to her chest as Flynn groans, ducking her head to hide a blush.

"But you hate math!" Flynn exclaims. "Almost as much as I do. If you won't spike it into the nearest trash can, can't I?"

"No! Go spike your own notebook."

Flynn hums. "Nope, now I gotta know what's special about that one. Spill!"

Julie bites her lip. She finds a well-worn, dog-eared page and flips it around.

Flynn visibly melts, cooing as she reads.

These lines aren't for chatting / but your voice keeps me going / when my mind wants to roam / it leaps from each one

"That's cute. You wrote that part?"

Julie nods. She knows the silly, impromptu little song by heart, one that she'd totally forgotten to rip out before Reggie could see it, along with her sunshine doodles.

The page is also peppered with several of his smiley faces, a sunflower with hearts for leaves, and his equally silly response:

I'll always be cheering / On the rewired lines you're hearing / There's no problem you can't own / I'll be your number one

Flynn starts to flip through the pages, but Julie snatches them back. There's a good chance Flynn would land on his actual annotations, but there are also some conversations she'd never stop teasing Julie about, along with some she just…

Doesn't feel like sharing. Dream box material, scraps of secrets, sacred wishes.

Flynn beams. "I always knew there was something going on between you two!"

"Nothing official," Julie murmurs. "He's…"

"Sort of perfect for you?"

"In a band that's about to make it big!"

Flynn flaps her hand. "Long distance is a thing. I think you two could make it work. I mean, hello? Those lyrics alone?"

Julie sighs. She carefully tucks the notebook away in the back of her backpack, in the slim space for a laptop.

"I don't know, Flynn…"

Flynn grasps her hand. "Just come on!"

"I wasn't finished!" she yelps as Flynn drags her away, barely holding onto her backpack as they weave through the chaos, thankfully avoiding more jocks.

"Eh, you got everything important."

"But the janitors…"

The rest of her protest dies in her throat.

Reggie's laughing at something Willie drew on his little magnetic whiteboard, grinning like the absolute sunbeam he is, and Julie's heart starts to race. Especially…

Especially once his eyes land on her.

They get impossibly brighter, and his grin gets broader, and she might pass out.

"I better go check on Bobby," Willie says, which is entirely valid, but something about the way he says it and the look he exchanges with Flynn makes Julie squint.

Flynn adds, "And I'd better check on Carrie before she decides to throw away perfectly good sunglasses again," which, also valid, but—

"Oh, and Julie has to tell you something!"

If she didn't love Flynn, she'd be so dead.

Her and Willie both, honestly.

She giggles nervously as the two of them make their hasty retreat, only scooting closer to narrowly avoid an elbow to the face as another senior rips a folder in half.

Reggie just waits, looking at her with those bright, curious eyes, and she bites her lip.

Her gaze lands on his whiteboard, half taken up by Willie's drawing of a dog on a skateboard, and she moves without thinking, reaching for the marker.

Reggie makes a curious sound. "Wh—"

"No peeking!" she says through more nervous giggles, although they become a bit more genuine as he spreads his hands in an exaggerated show of surrender.

She scrawls a little sunflower, along with a handful of heartfelt words:

I want to be your number one, too. I love…

Which is when she runs out of room.

Huffing, she circles the you in your and draws a little arrow that leads back to it.

She steps away with shaking hands.

Reggie's breath hitches. "Julie—really?"

She nods, only to squeak as he scoops her into a fierce hug, hiding her flushed face in his chest. Her arms circle his waist.

It's nearly drowned out by a bunch of shouting, but he says, "I love you, too."

And she's always happy to see it in writing, texting him constantly during his first tour.

[klanceyuri]

Contractually Obligated

Summary: Two dumbasses at age thirteen write a contract, they'll go on a date if they're both single at age twenty two. Nine years later and both of said dumbasses are single and have been waiting patiently for the day they go on a date, as bros of course, for shits 'n giggles, that's all it is

Warnings: Swearing, minor blood, implied sexual content, heavily suggestive themes, gratuitous use of the word faggot, check ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: *climbs into the kenman enjoyer treehouse* so yeah, I wrote a fic and thought ya'll might enjoy cause we're starving out here. I main K2, but kenman holds a specific place in my heart alongside it, so yeah, have some kenman. hope ya'll like it and if you do consider dropping a like or reblog

"If you don't have a girlfriend by the time we're," Kenny pauses, thinking over his words carefully. If he chooses a timeframe too small he knows Cartman will buy someone, if he chooses one too large, Cartman might actually get a date. He laughs internally at the idea, "Twenty, yeah, twenty two, then we should go on a date."

Cartman gives a snort of laughter, "That's nine years Kenny, I have plenty of time," But, even as he says it, Kenny's words have planted an anxiousness in him. What if he doesn't have a girlfriend? He'll have to go on a date with Kenny, that would be... Not bad, but not good either. He rifles through his pockets, "Let's make it a deal."

"A contract?" Kenny asked as Cartman spread a piece of paper on the floor.

"Yeah, unless you're pussy," Cartman said rather boldly.

"Then let's make it blood," Kenny countered with as he reached blindly for a pen he knew rested on Cartman's desk. He pulled down a blue one and handed it to Cartman with a small toss, "Go on, write the terms."

Cartman fidgets with the pen for a moment, "And you wanna make it blood?"

Kenny nodded, "Yeah, unless you're pussy."

And Cartman instantly leaves the room, wordlessly, which is a worry for Kenny. He usually goes with a huff or an exclamation of some sort, but silence? Never, that is not Cartman.

Of course, before Kenny can act on his worry Cartman is standing in the doorway with a knife, the butchers cleaver. He drops back down on the ground, "How much of a blood contract are we thinking, Kenneth?"

"The average," Kenny said as he grabbed the knife by the blade, "Write the terms first bro."

Cartman rolls his eyes before popping the cap off of the pen and placing it down on the paper. He scrawls out some words, "If we aren't in stable relationships by the time we're twenty, then we'll go on a date," He reaches for the knife and Kenny yanks it away.

"Where on a date?" Kenny asked.

"I don't fucking know! But this is fine," Cartman stated boldly, "It's not like it'll matter when we're in our twenties, I'll be out of town and so will you, we might not even be in touch."

"We will," Kenny said. He held out a hand, pinkie extended, "I promise."

Cartman bats away Kenny's hand and the blonde feigns hurt, "I'll write it down," He quickly tacked on 'and if we fail to fulfill this because we lose contact its Kennys fault' before reaching for the blade.

Kenny grabs Cartmans hand.

"Faggot,"

Kenny ignores Cartman, he just presses the blade gently to the pad of Cartman's pointer finger. He presses his thumb to the center of Cartman's hand to keep the fingers tensed. He slices, clean through the skin and Cartman hisses as crimson bubbles up and drips down onto the paper.

He does the same to his own finger and lets a drop of his blood splash right next to Cartman's. Red bleeds into each other through the paper and Kenny grabs a red pen, he draws a heart around the splotches and Cartman cringes. Kenny just scribbles a little shitty doodle of them holding hands to get under the brunettes skin even more.

"I'm gonna have a partner when we're twenty two," Cartman spat under his breath.

Kenny lifted his gaze, "Sure you will."

"What about you? What if you have a partner?" Cartman quickly countered with as he watched the blood dry. He fucked up. He's fucked. He's gonna have to go on a date with Kenny when they're twenty two.

"I'll let 'em know in advance," Kenny said with a nonchalant shrug, "I will go out with you though, it's gonna happen."

"You absolute faggot," Cartman uttered incredulously as he stared at the blonde.

"I know, I don't care," Kenny hummed, "Make sure you get lots of practice when it comes to kissing before we go out, I expect you have some experience."

"You're so sure of yourself, Kenny," The brunette picked up the paper and folded it, "Who's holding onto it?"

"I will," Kenny said as he snatched up the contract, "You'll burn it."

Cartman gives an amused hum, "Caught me red-handed."

-/-/-/-

He had nine whole years to get his shit together, and if not that, then he had nine years to figure out how to fully cut Kenny out of his life so he'd never have to face the terms and conditions of the paper that haunted him in his nightmares until he was nineteen. After that he sort of, forgot about the paper. He had a small, impossibly short-lived fling with some chick and the contract was out of his head entirely.

Still, despite moving as far away from South Park as he possibly could, he still finds himself drawn back to the shit hole. A type of pull he can't deny, and it gets stronger every single time he hears Kenny's voice over a call. He doesn't notice it until he's on the border of South Park, standing beside the sign with his car parked on the grass. His last chance to run away, but he doesn't take it, he has unfinished business whether he likes it or not.

Despite not wanting to go through with it, he knows deep in his gut that he needs to do it. He needs to spend a night with Kenny on the town even though there's almost nothing to do. He's forgotten about the paper. He's lying. He's been waiting for this the same way Kenny used to wait for the hour he died. It's kept him up at night, thinking about how long it's been since he last touched Kenny, last saw his face, will they even recognize each other now? It's not like Cartman's changed much, but what about Kenny? Will Cartman still be able to tell it's Kenny just by the timbre of his voice and the way he walks?

Still, Eric Cartman, age twenty two, single, drives into South Park with a defiant determination to get this shit over with.

-/-/-/-

Kyle is taller than him now. That doesn't stop him from pinning the ginger to the wall, hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt just a bit. Kyle just glares down at him.

"I was beginning to think you'd died, thanks for never fucking calling fatass," Kyle snapped at Cartman.

Cartman just smirked and tightened the grip, "Yeah well, I don't exactly like you."

"Grow up," Kyle snapped and Cartman dropped him.

"Where's Kenny?" Cartman questioned as he rubbed off his hands on his pants.

Kyle shrugged, "I haven't seen him in days, last I heard from him he was worried he didn't have enough money. He never does, so I don't know why he'd be worried about it."

"Thanks Jew," Cartman said as he turned to leave, "Tell your shitty boyfriend I say hi."

And instead of being smug and saying 'you're going to see Stan anyways' Kyle just nods and says, "I'll let him know you say hi."

-/-/-/-

There's this muffled 'come in!' from Kenny when Cartman knocks on the front door of the auto-shop. When the door swings open a bell jingles and Kenny is sitting at the desk with his feet kicked up, he drops his magazine and his eyes widen as he stares at Cartman. The brunette takes a couple steps in further as he watches Kenny slowly get up from his desk, like he was afraid Cartman would run if he moved too fast.

"Hi, Kenny," Even though Cartman beat up his odd way of saying Kenny's name years ago, he lets it seep through for a moment.

"Are you real?" Kenny asked before he could stop himself.

Cartman can't help but grin, "Are you high? Cause if not then I'd say I am real."

For once in his life Cartman is glad he decided to hit the weights for a bit even though it didn't make him any slimmer. Instead it gave him enough wherewithal to handle being tackled into a hug by the ratty blonde. He can feel Kenny's grin against his neck with face mashed into his shoulder and arms squeezing so tight he can feel his breath shorten a little bit. He hugs back and lifts Kenny up, an easy couple inches off the ground, squeezing until he hears something pop.

"That felt nice, do it again," Kenny said before Cartman could even begin to worry.

He squeezed once again, another pop sounding off and the blonde relaxed against him, "Dude you are so fucking weird, you don't even say hi and you're asking me to crack your back."

"Massage therapists and chiropractors cost money," Kenny answered with as Cartman let him down, he didn't let go of the brunette. He basked in the warmth that Cartman gave off, it was like he was an electric blanket.

Cartman shrugged off Kenny who was still wearing this dumb gap tooth smile that he's been sporting since he was a little kid. And Cartman takes a brief moment to look at him closer, he's still Kenny, through and through, he just has more scars on his face.

"So," Kenny began, "What brings you back to South Park? You didn't come here last year for your birthday."

Cartman takes a small steadying breath, "I'm still single."

It takes a moment for the words to settle in Kenny's mind, "Dude, I'm-"

"Straight?" Cartman finishes, "Yeah, I thought so."

"No, god no," Kenny said, and he laughs a bit as he speaks, "I have work tonight."

"You didn't even book off time for our date? Some suitor you are," Cartman scoffed.

"Like, I am going to skip," Kenny said, "I own the fucking place."

"You own an auto-shop and you didn't tell me?" Cartman questioned, and he sounded hurt.

Kenny pauses, "Oops, but likewise! Where is it you wanna go on our date?"

"I don't fucking know, let's get some pasta," Cartman said before grabbing hold of Kenny's hand and leading him out of the building.

"Ah yes, a classic for romantic dates," Kenny said dramatically as he clung to Cartman's side, "If we don't do the thing I'm gonna fucking lose it."

-/-/-/-

They didn't do the thing, and as promised kenny did indeed fucking lose it. And at that, Cartman didn't share a single strand of spaghetti, in the same breath Kenny didn't offer any of his grilled cheese either. He knows exactly why he's pissy about Cartman not doing the thing, this was gonna be some jokey cliche date for shits 'n giggles. He doesn't know why he reached over the table, hands fisting into the collar of Cartman's shirt and tugging him across the table.

His heart slams in his chest, adrenaline, do or die, he can feel himself shake with hesitance and confusion. Why is he doing this? He doesn't know, all that he knows is that people are staring and there's a splotch of pasta sauce at the corner of Cartman's lips. The hue matches the one blossoming onto the rest of the brunettes face and normally this is where they would back away. But maybe the need to finish what he started is amplified by the fact Cartman doesn't resist when Kenny presses forward.

His lips are cracked, and the contrast is chilling. He slowly let's go of Cartman's shirt and for a brief second he pulls back just enough to swipe the smudge of sauce up with his tongue and it does things to Cartman. He didn't know that those things could be spurred on by Kenny of all people, his best friend since day one.

When Kenny actually rears back and sits down in his chair he wears a blank expression, a defensive mask he puts on because he stopped wearing the hood up years ago. He just grabs the second half of his sandwich and takes tentative bites as he watches Cartman whose still frozen, slowly sitting back and staring at Kenny. He reaches for his glass of wine, he did not have enough of it inside of him before that whole thing happened.

He takes a long sip before holding it out for a cheers, "Too friendship?" He makes sure the people who are still staring can hear him.

Kenny grabs his own glad of wine, "Yeah man," He clinks the glass, "Too friendship."

They swear they hear forks drop on plates at the toast.

-/-/-/-

"The restaurant," Cartman begins with, eyes trapped on the sky above them and heat of the engine still warming the hood.

"Yeah, the restaurant," Kenny responded with, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Cartman said, "Would you call me a faggot if I said I liked it?"

Kenny shook his head, "Naw man, would you call me a faggot if I said that I liked it?"

"If we both liked it then we would both be faggots," Cartman said, reaching blindly for the can of beer he knew rested on the hood.

"I liked it," Kenny said.

"Me too," Cartman said, his hand rested on top of Kenny's, he could feel the fizz of the beer through the can. The aluminum was so cold it made Kenny's hand feel warm.

"Guess we're gay then," Kenny said blankly, letting go of the can and watching as Cartman propped himself onto his elbows.

"We're both adults now," Cartman said as he took a sip of the beer, "We can be mature."

"Can we?" Kenny asked and the question gave Cartman pause.

"Yeah, probably," Cartman said, "What if I told you I've been waiting for this?"

"To have a Waynes World moment?" Kenny asked dumbly.

"No, dumbass," Cartman spat, but the vitriolic edge he once held is softened entirely. He can't muster it despite everything, no matter how much he wants too, "This, coming back to South Park and going on a date with you? What then?"

Kenny shrugged, "We could have sex."

"That's not gonna fix anything," Cartman said plainly.

"I know that," Kenny answered with as he sat up, "But it might be a nice change of tune."

"I'm not fucking you Kenny," Cartman said as he laid back down against the hood, "Not in public at least."

Kenny gives a hum, "I don't think I got a single date in my entire time of living after middle school."

Cartman laughs, "Neither did I."

"I think it's because I wanted this too," Kenny said, a little bit quieter than before, "It's stupid though, you're gonna be gone before the weekend is up."

"I don't have to be gone before the weekend is up," Cartman offered, "I mean, ignoring the fact I don't have a house."

"You could live with me," Kenny said, and maybe there was desperation on his voice.

"I'll consider it," Cartman lied, of course he's moving in with Kenny.

Kenny rolls over until he's right next to Cartman, "This is nice."

"Sitting on the hood of a car?" Cartman asked dumbly as he took a sip of beer.

"Closure is nice," Kenny answered with as he sat up. He propped himself on his knees and a hand came to Cartman's shoulder, "Again?"

"Again," Cartman echoes back because one word is more than enough for them to know what the other means.

And maybe Cartman feels a little bit stupid for not realizing it sooner, not realizing it until he's caught in gridlock with Kenny. It's so simple, and yet it took the both of them this long to figure it out even with all of their friends coupling off, they stayed single. They shouldn't've though. They should've realized this was it long before Kenny is straddling Cartman on the hood of a car, kissing him into submission.

Fingers interlace to press down until Cartman is against the windshield, he raises his knees to push Kenny closer, close him in. He's needed this for so long but he's pushed away from it for even longer. He would trail his hands up Kenny's sides, examine every expanse of skin he hasn't seen since they were young. He wonders what new scars exist, he wonders if some have faded entirely over time. Kenny let him take pictures of them, let himself be used for photographic experimentation when no one else would be willing to take off their shirt in front of Cartman.

Kenny pulls back and lifts his hands, resting a bit on Cartman's hitched legs, "How come we didn't make out sooner?"

Cartman shrugged, "Whenever you offered I was taking nude photographs of you, it was a bit too faggy at the time."

"A bit too faggy, Eric," The brunette shudders at the way his given name slides past kenny's lips, "We're making out on a car."

"We were nineteen," Cartman spat back, "I was-"

"Blind? In one eye only," Kenny answered with before Cartman could finish his sentence. Red flared on the brunette's face.

"God, you know me too well," The words are quiet and then he's on Kenny all over again, but only for a brief moment, "I learned some new photography stuff."

"Oh yeah? Still using film?" Kenny asked, bringing a hand to trace across Cartman's throat, and his jaw, and his lips, he nipped at the tip of the finger placed on them.

"I went digital, it's where the money is even though film is better," Cartman scoffed.

"Do you still have film?" Kenny asked, pressing a brief batch of chaste kisses to Cartman's throat. It drew a small whimper.

"Obviously," His answer comes out with bite to it.

Kenny gives a hum, "We should do a photoshoot when we get home."

"After sex," Cartman quickly butted in with.

"Obviously," Kenny said with a nod.

-/-/-/-

"Well that was," Cartman began blankly, his chest was still heaving.

"Intense?" Kenny asked as he reached for a cigarette.

Cartman nodded, "Still up for that photoshoot?"

Kenny shrugged, spewing a haze of smoke into the still air, the scent muddled with that of sex easily, "Maybe in the morning, I got the day off."

"Hows the creek doing?" Cartman asked.

There's a brief pause.

"Happily married," Kenny answered said.

"That could be us," Cartman mused and the blonde laughed.

"You really think you could handle marrying me?" Kenny asked, giving Cartman an incredulous grin.

The brunette shrugged, "I don't fucking know man, but out of all the guys, yeah, probably. Definitely not any time soon, having gay sex and going on dates is more than enough for me."

Kenny offered the smoke to Cartman who took it despite his better judgement, "I think that's called 'dating' Cartman."

"Then we're dating," Cartman said, "You're my hot mechanic partner and I'm your asshole photographer boyfriend."

Kenny laughs at the titles, "Man, we should've done this ever ago, been boyfriends."

"It would've made sense to just hook up when Stan and Kyle got together," Cartman said, tapping away the ash over the edge of the bed. Safety hazards be damned, "You even tried to convince me, fucking hell, it would've been so much easier."

"So much easier," Kenny echoed back as Cartman handed him the smoke, "Still, we're here now, we can finally double date Stan and Kyle."

"We should both front as having a girlfriend, right? And then when we convince them to go on a double date with us, then they realize," Cartman schemed, a lot less diabolical than he used to be, but there were consequences now.

"Wicked," Was all Kenny said, putting out the smoke and curling up next to Cartman.

"Sleep?" Cartman asked.

Kenny nodded, "Sleep."

[clarktooncrossing]

HELLO THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

Happy National Cartoonists Day, everyone! What, you didn't think my current computer crisis would stop me from celebrating the Holiday, did ya? Actually, it almost did. Y'see, despite this piece being drawn by hand, my computer's scanner wouldn't save the file onto my craptop. My computer's going through a processing error, meaning it's set to stop working any day now. Fortunately this hunk'a junk managed to work just long enough for me to upload the newest Sketch BOOM! Yes my friends, the Sketch BOOM is back! I figured if I could only post one thing for NCD it might as well be something covered head to toe with cartoons. Some pretty well drawn cartoons too, if you pardon me tootin' my own horn. It just feels so good to have drawn something, have it come out looking as good as it does, and to be able to upload it here on tumblr for you all to see. For the record though, screw tumblr's stupid@$$ upload size limit, I freak'n hate websites that do that! It makes me as mad as a blood-cursed Croczilla fighting a sentient mobile home, but we'll get to that in a bit. For now though, let's see what silly sketches managed to make their way onto the page, starting from the top left corner and making our way down.

Don't forget to be on the lookout for the Snow Conies, the tiny sentient species of snow cones that have invaded almost every part of the page! Can you spot all 8?

[1] DID SOMEONE SAY PIZZA? You wanna know what the downside is of drawing at the bottom of the page and working your way up is? You have tiny pockets of blank space that you're unsure what to do with. Such was the case was this corner, having been left blank after drawing #2. For a while I thought of filling the void with a cosmically charged Snow Conie in the same vein at Rosie, but the Cosmic Cutie was already part of the BOOM due to Discord shenanigans. Instead I opted for a Clarktoon that sadly hasn't been drawn in a while, that being the ever-goofy Pizza Monster. No doubt he was lured here by the scent of all the pretzel pizzas I've been eating lately. While he was here I decided to experiment with his expressions, adding more cheek to his smile. Honestly I think he looked better without them. Still, I'm happy to see him here as I hope all of you are. Now if only he'd stop hogging all the grub!

[2] EYE OF THE THERIAN Rosie isn't the only character here due to Discord shenanigans. At the beginning of every month my friend @Foxhatart opens herself up to sketch suggestions on her Kofi page. For the record, those of you wanting to help out another artist keep food in their bellies can click here. With a few of these Kofi slots still left open, Fox came to her friends asking if they had any ideas for pics involving her characters. Not knowing a ton about her characters, I joked that she ott'a draw her half-lemur girl Cath bench press a bus, her freakish strength having become a reoccurring gag via game nights. Funny as the idea was, I didn't expect Fox to actually do it. You can imagine my surprise when this popped up in my inbox a few days later. Consider this doodle a long overdue 'thank you'. Here we see the crazy Cath lifting weights with, of all peeps, Bumper! No doubt the little marshmallow's here for moral support since he can't actually build up any muscle mass. Ghost problems, am I right? Hope you enjoy this silly little sketch, Fox. Next time I'll have Cath bench-pressing your mortal nemesis; a train.

[3] TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH Despite what I said about Pizza Monster, he actually wasn't the last sketch to be included. No, that honor goes to the metal mercenary, the bodacious bot bounty hunter, the anarchistic anti-hero herself; Candy Banger! Much like the aforementioned monster I figured it had been too long since I drew Candy or really any of the robotic cast of 3K. Atop of that, Candy represented a good chance for me to use the stockpile of poses I've saved up from a thumb drive. Using one from a tumblr site called @posereference turned out to be surprisingly easier than anticipated, the only real flaw in the end being how I colored her. This is one of many coloring errors I made on this piece, Candy's hair looking more bluish purple than I had intended. Still, considering I drew her at all, I doubt Candy's complaining. Here's hoping I can draw more of her in the future, otherwise I might be riddled with bullet holes like that wall behind her. 

[4] AN AVERAGE DAY AT WHIMSYLAND And thus we've arrived to the first sketch of this compilation given to me by a friend, this one coming from @jackieariane. She and I both suffered during the Chapek administration of Disney, Jart regaling me with tales of when she dealt with rude customers at Animal Kingdom. It reminded me of when my friends AnimatedTigerGirl and RigbyH00ves worked at the Floridan Park too, all three of my companions having a surprisingly miserable experience. All these stories started melting together in my brain until I asked the question; what would happen if Brooklyn Nine Nine was set at Disneyland? Thus Whimsyland was born, albeit originally out of spite towards Chapek. I already detailed all this back in the DUDELZ from the Dumpster I posted earlier this year, but I failed to mention the human protagonist of this story, Wendy. Having been to Whimsyland once in her life at a young age, the young Vietnamese gal with OCD was immediately smitten by the place, vowing she'd someday work there. Spending the rest of her life researching the park and watching Matt Whimsy documentaries on uView, you can imagine Wendy's disappointment when she returned to the Perkiest Place on the Planet to find nothing was as perky. Whimsyland had lost its whimsy. It's here where she met Freddy Fox, the cartoon mascot of the company living in exile over how the house Matt built is being run today. In other words, what I'd imagine Mickey would be doing if he were real. Together these two kindred spirits are set to bring magic back to this wonderland! Overall I'm pleased with how the sketch turned out, though Wendy's face reminds me of my character Sue the Game Genie more than I'd prefer. Also, Fred Fox is way bigger than intended, no doubt I'll be changing that for future depictions of these two. For now though, this drawing has just enough Whimsy for my liking. 

[5] CROCZILLA: BLOOD CURSE More Discord Shenanigans! This time it's the result of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that @burningthrucelluloid somehow roped me into yet again. Instead of robots and dragons set in a medieval fantasy however, this time it's elves and crocodiles in an approximation of the American south. One ruled by Jerimiah Strahd, a ruthless blood-sucking bastard that Alec based off Leonardo DiCaprio's character from Django Unchained. If that wasn't a sign of how crazy this campaign has become, here's an actual moment from the game. The heroic but hesitant human Jason (YoungSamurai18), the loud-mouthed scaredy cat Toby (Mr-Herp-Derp), and the silent but deadly Ed (void-android), and the equally hungry and adventurous Crocie (me, of course) were hunting for a witch named Bubba Lysiga when all of a sudden the witch brought her mobile home to life in order to attack our heroes. Worse still, she put Ed under mind control to attack his comrades. Croc got the worst of it, his HP dropping to 0 due to him falling from the house and getting stomped on by its gigantic set of wooden chicken legs. Did I mention this campaign gets strange? Well it got even crazier when a dark, shadowy entity housed in Croc's body suddenly gave him a recharge, the reptile taking the chance to mix a Heat and Growth potion he obtained earlier to become CROCZILLA! It was a moment Alec was hoping would happen in game and I didn't intend on disappointing. Same goes for this sketch, it mostly going just as envisioned in my head. The pissed off look on my green friend's face, the damage done to the rusty trailer that is the witch's house, the tiny silhouettes of Croc's teammates in said home, the heavy fog, the Earth-shattering roar in the background, it all came out great. Save for one detail. You'll notice that Croc's eyes are black with red irises in this pic. That detail's due to Croc having blood curse abilities, hence the dark entity sharing rental space in his body. As such, you'd think Croc's fire breath would be just as vibrantly red, but sadly that idea didn't occur to me until after I made the fire blue as well as the shine off every surface. Spam it! Still, coloring hiccup aside, I'm mighty proud of this pic! Hopefully so are the rest of the Barovian Bozos that make up my team. 

[6] WONDER ZIGGY, CINEPHILE FROM THE PLANET GARBONZA EVEN MORE DISCORD SHENANIGANS! Cut to a few months back and I was restructuring my Discord server, cutting down the multiple move threads it had before merging them all into one. Being the story-driven bozo I am, I quickly wrote a backstory for this thread involving an alien named Ziggy falling in love with the Earth B-Movies he was picking up on his deep space probe. So much so that he came down to our planet only to discover there were even MORE types of movies for him to enjoy! It overwhelmed him so much that he blacked out, awakening the next day having purchased a since abandoned drive-in theater on the outskirts of Clarksburg. Faced with this new impulse purchase, Ziggy followed the oldest piece of wisdom known to man or alien; Screw it. After a refurb Ziggy reopened the drive-in, screening B Movies and cinematic shlock to an appreciative public. And if you can believe it, I typed all of that out after thinking about it for five minutes. My brain is weird like that. All that said, it'd take a couple of RP sessions before I got his personality down, that being an MST3K character if the show were written by Joe-Bob Briggs. In other words, a surprisingly well educated weirdo with a deep love of Hollywood history. It'd take me a while longer before finally sketching him, basing him off the titular villain from Robot Monster, an appropriate design for someone who loves old, cheesy movies. All he was missing was a pink Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat. If you think he's strange, you should meet his wife Wanda, though let's save that for a future BOOM...

[7] LOOKIN' SPAM GOOD! What better way to show my friends I care than drawing them in ridiculous outfits? This sketch, the first to be included in this BOOM, is a merging of two repurposed ideas I had for other pictures. The first would've involved the Swedish menace Finjix with a fish bowl on his head much to the confusion of Alec, the recipient of a kawaii make over. I can't remember where the fishbowl idea spawned from but Sir Alec the Adorable came from him scoffing at the idea that I could make anything cute, himself included. Just you wait Alec, I'll get you someday! For now though I swapped out making him uber-adorable in favor of dressing him up like the Wasp from Earth's Mightiest Heroes, the awesome animated show he finally binge-watched on my behalf. Granted I could've drawn him as Maria Hill, the character on the show he deemed the sexiest, but it wouldn't have been as funny. After all, all Maria's outfit is a blue jumpsuit. Far less interesting than Jart's leather jacket, an image that popped into my noggin following her telling me she's learning to ride a bike. That and me desperately clinging onto the back as she gave me a ride, but that would've been harder to draw. Instead I went for the jacket, a fashion statement that would be stupid in real life since she lives in the infamously hot country of Vietnam. Yet even in the face of logic, Jart not only humored me but encouraged me to include this in the final sketch. Thank goodness she did cuz I love how it turned out, minus the green stripes that were accidentally colored black like the rest. DRATS! Not only that but she informed me that she was no longer using her fursona, instead opting to draw herself as a human from now on. DOUBLE DRATS! Ah well, I have more ideas involving 'Trang the Tyrant' as I've nicknamed her, so chances are I'll get the chance to correct both mistakes in the future. It might also give me another chance to draw myself as Super Giraffe, which was what I originally intended to do with my own fursona. Sadly the costume still needs work so instead I opted for my classic Pagonian Wizard robes. Even in the face of all these snafus, I think we all look spam good!

[8] ROSIE STARDUST, SPACE WIZARD Turns out I'm always right even when I'm spewing nonsense. Don't believe me? Plenty of peeps have made that mistake before. Take my friend Alec for example. In the midst of him running the current Strahd campaign I mentioned earlier, I jokingly tossed out the idea of Rosie transporting our heroes out of Barovia and into another universe. A cute 'What If' scenario the Dungeon Master wasted no time in shooting down. Mistaking my silly suggestion as a legit one, Alec explained how unfair it'd be for a god to play a game with a bunch of mortal meatbags. Let the record show that I never declared the sentient Einstein-Rosen Bridge to be a deity. Some alien cultures have mistaken her from one, but Rosie herself would be the first to tell you she's no holy being. Not that any of that mattered. Alec held firm to his statement, Rosie was denied access to any dungeons. For about six seconds before my buddy realized how a depowered Rosie would make a wonderful wizard for a Spelljammers campaign. Fueling this fire was his recent watching of The Owl House, imagining Rosie rocking wizard robes similar to those worn by The Good Witch Azura. Before I could say, "NOW EAT THIS SUCKA," he was leading the charge on my server of peeps demanding I draw Rosie as a space wizard. At first I was floored at the audacity! You shoot down an idea that wasn't meant to be taken seriously only for you to turn around and do so anyway? MAKE UP YOUR SPAM MIND! Then I followed Alec's example and got over it, the idea of Rosie in wizards robes too tempting a sketch not to capitalize on. In the end the only aspect of Azura that made it into the final product was the hat, minus the cute lil' crown. Everything else took cues from the fashion of @cherrysdesigns along with a style @girlofhearts101 turned me towards called whimsigoth. All of which resulting in an costume that gave Alec 'David Bowie Ziggy Stardust vibes'. It's thanks to that comment that Rosie now has a last name. Everyone, say hello to Rosie Stardust, universal explorer and space wizard!

[9] DIREKTOR AND 3D1T0-R Is there a Hollywood equivalent in the Star Wars universe? Some sort of glamorous planet where overpaid alien celebrities are shamelessly rebooting beloved classics for a profit? All while amazing writers are getting screwed out of the earnings they deserve? This was what I asked Alec during his binge watching of The Clone Wars. Surprising me once more, the Masked Maniac revealed that he had asked SIM-N the same question before, the two creating a character called The Direktor for their Monova comics. Her whole gimmick was producing hypnotic propaganda for the tyrannical Twin Emperors, a cool concept that never went anywhere due to the robotroll cutting From Destiny's Ashes short. Being the character man that I am, I decided The Direktor couldn't go to waste. Especially when she'd make such a good villain in the world of 3K and a good addition to this BOOM. After asking SIM-N for the character's original reference sheet I set out to give her a Clarktoon makeover while watching cutscenes of The Second Sister from Jedi: Fallen Order. No doubt Elizabeth Grullon's intimidating vocal performance effected my outcome, the alien movie maker now sporting a streamlined outfit along with a smugly sinister smile on her face. As apposed to her boss, the Direktor's little droid 3D1T0-R hardly changed in the transition. He was a little creepy ball to start and he's still a little creepy ball now. One that was cooked up by Alec according to SIM-N, which makes sense given our pal's passion for film editing. Once the two were fully drawn I decided to test out my shading and lighting techniques in an attempt to make her look more menacing. If the response I got from the others on Discord is any indication, I succeeded. Indeed, this fem fatale filmmaker will fit in phenomenally as a 3K villain. Now the question is to who? 

[10] JURAKISS Finally we conclude things with a sketch somewhat prompted by @zernna. Way back in August of last year she was commissioned to draw my cretaceous crusader Saura and her girlfriend Patricia enjoying a delightful day at the pool, a pic as charming as that description would imply. In my comment thanking Ze I couldn't help but laugh at how the two had already been declared a cute couple despite how I hadn't drawn the two together in my own artwork yet. The Alien Artist than demanded I draw 'moar art of them then', prompting me to ask if that was a challenge. She said yes. Though not from a lack of trying, it took me nine freak'n months to meet that challenge. Blame that on me being a picky artist since I have been meaning to draw references of these characters in the meantime. After all, Zerna got asked to draw Saura in other pics without having any color references for the Blue Beast of Fosslin. Fortunately Saura's shown up in a number of previous Sketch BOOMs, now getting to share the spotlight with Patricia here. A Patricia that would've been notably paler were it not for Alec asking if I had any markers that matched Patricia's skin tone. I didn't, but the local hobby store did! Who knew Sharpie made skintone markers? It not only helped me color in the cute Muslim girl here, but also Cath and Wendy later on. Talk about a perfect purchase! Now if only the colors of Patricia's outfit were as satisfactory. Ah well, there's always next time, since I'm pretty sure Zerna's challenge still stands. XP For now though, I hope you all enjoy this compilations of crazy scribblings fresh from my mind. If you didn't, worry not, chances are I'll be making another one soon....

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU ALL!

[ace-the-fox]

Me: Yeah I'll get the last two rare pair week days done the weekend after my exams. No biggie :)

My procrastination brain: Yeah... noooo

I still don't have the doodle done for the free day. Might get it done by at LEAST next week, but no promises. I'm happy to leave things here either way, I just wanted to get all the fics done at least lol.

Did I also just use this as an excuse to drop in an lwa oc that's been in my brain lately? Yes, I absolutely did. I'm not ashamed of it either.

Day 6: Dates

"Okay, before you do anything with your hairspray and your little pins, just know I've had this hair-do since I was thirteen."

Vonnie snickered, setting stuff up like a professional hairdresser. Or a mad scientist. Either one worked. "And that, Frankie, my boy, is precisely why I need to do this."

Frank pouted a little, blowing golden hair out of his face. It felt weird to have had it be down and in his face all day. Vonnie, an Appleton student a year above him and a good friend, had convinced him (REALLY convinced him) to try a different hairstyle for his first date with Andrew. Frank had relented in a panic three hours before the date and had run over to her house ASAP.

"Anyways, the more you hesitate, the later you risk running for your little date," Vonnie said, running their hand through the now loose blonde strands of hair. "Even though the two of you have practically been dating since, like, two years ago to me, but I digress. A first date is a big thing, after all. So, you'd best listen to me."

Yes. His first date. With Andrew. Frank could still barely believe it. He could barely believed that Andrew had asked him out before Frank could gather the balls to.

Andrew had approached it a bit like a business proposition. Matter-of-factly and sternly, but still a lot more awkwardly. His face went a particular fuscia that Frank hadn't thought was possible for his pale complexion. And how could the blonde ever say no (not when he'd been, at least consciously, crushing on the boy for a year by now).

So, here he was, sat in a chair in Vonnie's bathroom with the much taller person stood behind him. They'd tied their long, fluffy black hair up, though there were still curls falling in their eyes. Their father was always hounding at them to get a haircut, but everytime he made the appointment, Vonnie never showed.

Frank couldn't help but feel just a little nervous, even though he had no reason to be. He'd never been this nervous for a date, even with pretty girls that were way out of his league. To be fair, in any other circumstance Andrew would probably be equally out of his league, but in these circumstances they had been friends before this. And they had been friends for years. This was the closest Frank had known any of his dates. Why was he so jittery.

After a moment of scrolling through a pinterest board she had made for that moment (they'd had it for years, by then), Vonnie put their phone right in front of Frank's face. "You think this'll impress Andy-Pandy? It's close enough to what you usually do..."

Frank glanced at it. It basically was the same as his usual style, just a lot less solid. So more of it curled up in his face. It looked rugged. Stylish. Andrew might just be impressed.

Frank smirked up at Vonnie. "Do your worst."

And, so, Vonnie did. While the two of them sang along to cheesy 2010s pop for the next half hour. "I'm happy for you, Frankie, my man. I really, really am," Vonnie chuckled, finishing up with another choking spray of hairspray, midway through Kesha's 'TikTok.' "Now... What do you think?"

Frank looked in the mirror. A completely new yet uncannily familiar man looked back. He grinned, feeling a little bit better about his date now. He started to wonder if Vonnie's offer had been deeper than just wanting to see him with a different look to what he'd been rocking for five years now. "Love it. Thanks Von."

Vonnie hugged him from behind, in a way that made even the effortlessly friendly Frank jump a little. "Man, I am happy for you two!" she giggled. "I thought we'd all be in our thirties by the time this happened!"

Frank rolled his eyes but laughed. "Yeah..."

Vonnie finally addressed how still obviously jittery he was. "Don't you worry. I'm sure it'll be no different to you two hanging out together anyways... But do you want me to do a little stalking anyways, to wingman it just in case?"

Frank held up a hand. "Nope. I think we'll manage."

"You will," Vonnie laughed, reaching out to ruffle Frank's hair but retracting, so as not to scuff their own handiwork.

(And they did. A few hours later, Vonnie got a spam of emojis and five pictures of Andrew and Frank being cute and cuddly together from Frank. Vonnie sent back a response that she hoped was as smug as intended.

"Told you soooo 😘")

Bonus, the reference for Frank's hair because I wasn't sure how to describe it well enough 💀:

Not the most creative, but most of the results for "men's haircut ideas" are literally all the same DX

[chronic-escapixt]

Human Sacrifice (Part 2)

prisonworld!Kai x f!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, Dark fiction, NONCON, kidnap, rough sex, p in v, bondage, oral (f receiving), violence, spanking, degradation, explicit language, forced overstim, toys

*Kai is the king of pet names- calls reader babycakes*

word count: 3.8k

summary: you wake up alone in the middle of nowhere. unfortunately for you, you're not completely alone.

Kai sets me down at the table. Each passing moment I spend sitting still, stewing in my own idleness, eats away at my adrenalin. Leaving a fatiguing hunger gnawing in its place. Worsened by the smells coming from the stove. I crane my neck just to get a peak at the bacon frying in the cast iron skillet, sizzling and popping in its own oils, the pancake cooking up to a perfect crisp brown edge before it's flipped over.

Pretty soon he’s setting the plate on the table, directing a sly wink at me to which I return a scowl, not even looking down to acknowledge the food, not even moving to touch the silverware since I wouldn’t put it past him to get my hopes up just to snatch it away and gorge himself on the entire thing right in front of me. If I wasn’t practically starving, I’d be more tempted to vault the plate at his dense head and deal with whatever consequences came later. 

“Oh! Can’t forget the oj!” he squeals, dashing over to the fridge. My critical gaze follows where I notice the children’s doodles tacked to the door with novelty magnets along with what looks to be report cards and a refrigerator magnet with a frilly cursive font that says: Kiss the Chef. 

Not if I can help it.

He pours me up a tall glass then stares down his nose at me expectantly. I lean forward with squared shoulders, tight lips, creased brow, posturing to let him know that this silent standoff between us can go on forever. He leans back with a frustrated sigh and I know I’ve won until my stomach growls out loud, undercutting my small victory.

He smirks and nudges the plate closer to me, “eat up before your eggs get cold.”

“I’m not hungry,” I bite back.

“Mhmm, right.. I bet you think I’m trying to poison you or something - Well, babe, if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already.” Each word is slow and direct with brazen condescension. 

I collect my annoyance behind a placid mask.

“It’s just that my parents expected me home like.. yesterday. They’ve probably already reported me as a missing person. If they’re not already, the police will start looking for me soon and no matter what you do to me, everything is going to lead right back to you.”

He nods with consideration as I continue. “They’re gonna either find me alive or dead and you’re going to end up in prison. Doesn’t that scare you? I mean.. a pretty boy like you wouldn’t do too well in prison. Surely they’d do much worse to you than you could ever think of doing to me..”

Kai meets my gaze with a wickedly sharp grin, “you underestimate my imagination.”

His threat makes a tightness take hold of my throat, straining my words in my chest, “I - just think you should consider how this might end for you.”

He groans so loud, it makes me stiffen. “You still don’t get it, do you? We’re not in your world anymore! Your parents can report whatever they want to whoever they want, but no one is going to find you, so as long as you’re stuck here with me, you’re mine.” 

My palpable disbelief makes him inch closer, resting his palms on either side of the table and leaning down to me.

“Let me spell it out for you: we’re in my prisonworld, circa 1994, and there’s no one else here but you and me.” 

He’s dead serious but it’s so ridiculous I can’t help but let out a stream of chuckles, little laughs that clearly bite into his inflated ego the more I go on. I cover my face, trying to stop, desperately as tears prick my eyes. I feel crazy because I’m terrified, but laughter is all that comes out.

“Oh.. you don’t believe me?” His voice laced with reproach, “FINE! When you clean your plate, I’m taking you into town.”

When he turns and leaves me alone, I start to perk up, listening for his retreating footsteps before I stare down the buttery stack of pancakes in front of me, thick cut bacon that’s somehow just as crispy as I like it and a side of fluffy eggs. His proposition provides me food for thought as I begin cutting into my pancakes. Getting out of this house is my best chance at being found and getting away from him, even if it is on his terms. The food is so good I struggle not to scarf it down, still careful as I’m unsure if he snuck razor blades in my scrambled eggs. I cleaned the plate in minutes and chugged the orange juice. 

“I’m changing,” I try to bypass him to get to the stairs but he blocks my path with his body, folding his arms as to make himself even wider.

“No need. The only person that can judge you for looking like a slut is me, and personally, I like it,” he replies, licking his lower lip. I feel exposed as he eyefucks me in nothing but the slinky black dress. I feel a draft with every step, forcing me to tug it down over my backside and compromise the coverage of my breasts. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. 

He takes us into town. Mr. Motor-mouth tells me all about the lore he built lore for his own delusions but I barely pay it any mind. Beyond the periphery of my thoughts, he continues - prisonworld this, coven that - I’m sure, the only prisonworld that exists is in his own deranged head.

I welcome the growing familiarity of our surroundings as we approach downtown Portland. The strange thing is, it doesn’t look the way I left it last break. There’s almost a nostalgic feel to the way the cars parked along the street are all vintage models I haven’t seen since I was a kid. The gas prices made me do a double take. The way payphone booths stood at each street corner. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was just one of those traditional towns that didn’t change with the times, but I DO know better. I grew up here. I notice as we pass the old theater that used to play classic films for 90 cents on the weekends that it’s suspiciously lacquered with the freshest coat of paint I’ve ever seen on it, which is impossible considering the building was abandoned when it went out of business last year. 

“- and so my coven created this little hell dimension for me.. where I’ve been on my own ever since.”

I search for people. In what should be the business epicenter of the town, there’s no one. Not a single soul walking, driving, making any noise. In fact, everything looks undisturbed, like an interactive picture taken in the mid 90s. My attempts to conceal my rapid breathing create an involuntary squeak from the back of my throat. 

“See, Portland, 1994 - just the same as it’s always been..” his voice trails off bitterly before meeting me with a grin that reaches his eyes.

Either I go with his neurotic story and magic really created this prison dimension - Or he’s managed to go to considerable lengths to create his nostalgia wet dream.

“Where is everybody?” I squeak.

His brow shoots up, “Have you not been paying attention?”

Kai parks the car just outside the market and grabs a newspaper off the stand on the way inside. I take it from him with trembling fingers just before scanning the headline: Family Massacred in Portland. May 9, 1994… the murders of 4 kids.. One missing.. Malachai parker.. Malachai - Kai. I lower the paper to my lap.

“You believe me now right? I can tell you’re putting the pieces together.”

“Your name is Malachai Parker.” I repeat for clarification.

“Kai-” he corrects me shortly. 

“And your dad is Joshua Parker?” 

He nods slowly. 

So the family mentioned in the article is them. I grew up close to the Parker family, often having play dates with the twins, Liv and Luke, when we were little - Liv was on my soccer team and Luke was my extremely awkward date to the Freshman spring formal. I never knew they had any older siblings, let alone a psychotic brother.

“Okay, so let’s just say I believe you about the magic stuff.. why was I sent here?”

“Well, clearly my dad has come to regret his decision and needs me back. I imagine you’re like the sacrificial lamb.. like a chunk of meat thrown to the lion so that he's full and happy before they let him out of the cage.” 

He really knows how to paint a horrific picture, but that still doesn’t explain why I was chosen out of all people. I subconsciously rub at the mark he left on my neck from his teeth, not deep enough to break the skin, but enough to still leave a sore ache when I touch it and to clearly convey his intentions. I’m a piece of meat.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Who names their kid Malachai anyway? It’s like they expected me to be evil.” 

I stop just outside the door, giving one final glance back for someone - anyone else.

“Come on,” He takes my arm and pulls me along.

“If you’re a witch, why not use magic to free yourself?”

“What do you think, I can just bibbidi-bobbidi-boo my way out of here? It doesn’t work like that for a lot of reasons,” He starts chucking random food and snacks into the shopping cart as we go along, “One of them being, I’m a siphon, meaning I don’t make my own magic, but I can suck it out of other witches or objects with my touch,” he shoots me a dismissive glance, “and since there’s none of that here, we’ll have to wait until my coven makes a move.”

How convenient. He’s a witch without any magic. I feel stupid. I want to kick myself for even playing along with his lunacy. The only thing that article proves is that he's a sociopath, but what could explain the apparent time travel that’s happened here or the absence of civilians? I don’t know how he did it, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility that he’s either the most successful serial killer of all time or he’s not working alone. 

I put that thought on the back burner because prisonworld or not, I have to find a way to escape. There’s no such luck while we’re in the store as he makes me hold onto the shopping cart, not letting me out of his sight. I retreat back to the car as he loads the trunk with groceries, fully resigned to head back to the house with him, but he makes one last stop at a seedy windowless building. 

We enter a small sex shop. 

“Why are we here?”

“Thought we’d get some new stuff to try before things start to go stale between us.”

I scoff, but he ignores me, fully occupied by the fleshlight toy display. I take the chance to look around, heading deeper into the store, past the aisle of gags and bondage devices and to where they keep the X-rated videos and magazines in the back. 

“This could be fun..” I hear him mutter to himself from the other side of the store. If I’m going to do something, it has to be now. I slip behind the counter and find a pistol tucked underneath the register. Bingo! Then I grab the set of car keys next to it, likely belonging to the pick up parked in the small lot. My plans to slip out the back are thwarted by the fact there’s only a storage closet behind the counter.

My heart drops to my knees when he calls out to me, “Hey! So, I just found the cutest little collar for you. Ooooh, and it comes with a matching leash. Come try it on!” 

I slip into the closet, clutching the pistol to my chest as I steady my breathing. 

It’s now or nothing.

I hear him approach. “Come on out, dollface. Unless.. we’re playing a game of hide and seek.” My heart pounds as fast as a hummingbird’s as he creeps closer. “I love this game, but I should let you know, I always win. Bet you can’t guess what my prize will be,” He’s on the other side of the door, hand slowly turning the loose knob.

“Gotcha!” he yanks the door open but stops in his tracks. I have the gun pointed at the middle of his chest.

His narrowed eyes stare past the barrel of the gun right into me. 

“Aww, are you gonna’ shoot me?” his jaw ticks, but the corners of his lips perk up like he’s slightly amused. I’m more afraid of the gun than he is.

“MOVE!” I hold firm and solid, my trigger finger twitching.

“Woah, woah, just put the gun down, hotcakes.” We’re frozen in this standoff until he gets annoyed and lurches at me for the gun. I pull the trigger, flinching in anticipation of the kickback but nothing. Is it even loaded? I don’t have enough time to try the trigger again before he wrenches the pistol from my grasp and decks me across the head with the barrel.

I’m lying on my back, stripped completely bare with my hands secured above my head.

His blurred image comes into focus, watching me from the foot of the bed.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” his grating voice pierces through the ringing in my ears as he moves up my body.

“Wanna see the cool new stuff I got for us?”

He drags the bag on the bed without waiting for my reply and shoves his hand inside, pulling out a vibrator, built like a blunt bullet.  

“You’re gonna like this.”

My jaw drops when he grabs a crystal plug and he takes notice, his sinister grin widening, “I don’t even remember putting that in there..” His mocking laughter sends a shiver down my spine. 

The next thing I see is a flogger, several leather prongs with shining enamel donning the tips.

“The way you’ve been acting, we’ll get plenty of use out of this one..”

He leans into me and his lips softly ghost along my own even as I sink back and tuck my chin, “So, what am I going to do with you first?”

It’s a rhetorical question, yet his eyes dart to mine eagerly awaiting a response. I don’t have anything, not one quip nor retort. I fucked up my only chance at escape and now I’m going to have to pay the price.

“Awww, nothing to say, babycakes? Where’s that bitchy attitude, hmm? Not one adorably pointless little struggle?”

“.. m’ sorry..” I all but whimper out, letting my emotions choke me up.

Something changes in him. I see through my teary eyes, a frown etched into his face as if he’s disappointed in my submission, like he expected more of a challenge before I completely shattered.

He sighs and turns to his arsenal of toys, giving it a considerable once over before lifting up the flogger.

“Maybe start with this? How many do you think you can take?”

He holds it in his grasp like a gladiator ready to tame me, I notice how his veins ripple all the way up his scarved bicep.

“NO!” I belt out, kicking my legs with ferocity. He scoops them up and flips me over on my stomach. I hear rattling behind my back and he yanks one leg to the side, fastens a shackle around my ankle and secures it to the adjacent bedpost. The other follows suit despite my protests.

“Wrong answer.. guess we’ll just have to see -”

“Malachai..” I hissed out his name. My final recourse to get him to hear reason, but I can’t force any more words from between my lips before he captures the base of my hair in a tight fist, yanking me up into his chest.

“Let’s set some ground rules, shall we?” I whine as he callously tightens his grasp, tearing locks of hair out of my scalp, “I don’t want to hear you call me that again, yeah? I will make mass murder look like child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you. I have nothing but time, baby. Understand?” His threatening words burn like venom along my neck.

“yEss” I croak, paralyzed with fear.

“Wonderful! I’m glad we agree on that. Now, back to the main event.” His tonal change is startling, something I couldn’t get used to. He picks up his weapon, the clang of the metal tips rattling against each other. 

I can barely lift my head before I feel those prongs lash across the bare flesh of my ass. The noise I let out is bone-chillingly inhumane, the way it tears up through my vocal cords, it barely registers as my own voice. His short grunts, gruff moans are perfectly timed with my sobs as he makes my thighs raw. I feel him cup my ass cheek with his hand, feeling it burn as blood rises up in my swollen capillaries, the surface welting up beneath his touch.

I think he’s had his fill by the time he places the flog down on the bed, then his hands are on me again, rubbing sloppy circles along my puffy pussy, lips prominent as he pushes them apart to dip into my drooling center. 

“Nearly two decades with nothing but pent up sexual frustration then they drop a cute little thing like you in my cage. Whoever sent you here, doesn’t give a fuck about you.” He releases an airy sigh as he slaps my clit with his rough palm.

I tense into an arched position, choking back a moan. 

“Poor baby doesn’t know if she wants to cry or come..”

He drives two fingers to the second knuckle, pumping in and out, scissoring me open as I whimper at the stretch.

“What’s all this, huh?” He withdraws and raises his digits to his face to analyze the viscosity of my slick, the way it creates clear strings between his thick fingers when he pulls them apart. “What are you trying to prove here? Think you’re too good to get off to me?”

I bite my tongue, but it’s alright because he speaks enough for the both of us.

“It’s not like you really have a choice. You’re gonna come real soon, aren’t you?” He reads my bodily responses expertly. I hear the buzzing of the vibrator before it finds my clit. My eyes roll back and I clench in place. 

“Bet you’re really having fun now, huh?” 

I feel the sheets grow damp below me. My cool slick soothing my sore flesh all the way down my thighs.

“You love it… you don’t gotta’ tell me.. jus’ keep making those pretty noises I like.. I feel like you’re just as deprived as I am.. all sheltered with no one to really touch you. Just your one shitty little vibrator you hide in your nightstand and keep on the lowest setting so no one overhears how the perfect princess isn’t so innocent.” 

He curls his fingers and I come so hard my brain misfires and my vision goes blurry. 

The next moments move in slow motion. I barely register him pulling off his shorts and freeing his cock before he’s back on me, yanking me closer by his firm grip on my hips. I gasp as he pushes into my pulsating heat, stretching my sex as my tight lips move along with the drag of his cock. 

He angles my body to his thrusts, tilting my pelvis up so he can drive me down onto his length. The rapid tempo knocks the air from my lungs. His pelvic bone digging into my sore backside. I make the mistake of looking back at him just as he stalls, his cock pulsating against my cervix as I can do nothing but milk him dry with my own orgasm. Becoming even more familiar with the way his brow tenses over his glassy hooded eyes, his powder pink lips fall open for small gasps and grunts as his load coats my inner walls.

He stutters forward, plunging his length deeper into my aching core. When he opens his eyes, I notice his lip twitch and curl in a smirk before he pulls away and I feel empty. 

He moves to release my ankles from their restraints and flips me over like a pig on a spit. He follows the length of my body with his eyes, feasting on my gooey center where his own cum starts to pool at my opening, dripping down my slit. He leans down and there’s a devious glint within his steely gaze that makes my breath hike.

He pulls my tender bud between his lips, alternating with wet open-mouthed kisses along my inner thigh, building me back up.

“S.. st… ss. Op… pl- EASE!” I gasp and sputter out my words between uncontainable moans. 

It feels so strange, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Maybe like my rose toy. But better? No, worse. It hurts. He sucks and pops my flesh, savoring me like sweet taffy, winding his tongue through my tender labia.

A feral noise rumbles in his chest as he scrapes his teeth along my engorged clit. I keen out loud as he alternates between suckling on me, turning me into a rapid ball of fire.

“D’ you see how much I spoil you? I cook for you, clean you up.. so ungrateful.” he slurps on the mixture of our juices leaking from my pulsating core. I try to swivel my hips and scoot away from him as he rolls my clit with his tongue, his face following my movements. 

“The more you try to squirm away from me, the more you open yourself up for me to taste you, babycakes..” His hold locks onto my trembling legs, pinning my thighs flat to my stomach. “Heyyy.. stop it.. stop running from me..”

I weep helplessly in his grasp.

@daisy-renae @quinsly

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