#thoughtlocks

ooc//

Before I go to bed: some very scribbly horrorlands doobles. Also apparently known as the “epic wings squad”.

These were for:

@jackfromthegrave​

@timcheals​

@thoughtlocks​

@bellcdonna

BONUS:

( i’ve been thinking about one for shades but godbless anyone who makes cottonmouth )

A S H I M M E R of light kicked up in a flurry of s u r p r i s e, as well as fright. Transparent wings, lined with soft refle -cted light shivered before settling back against her back-- no point in trying to hide it, if it wasn’t the one wing on show then it was the soft glow her form gave.

She met eyes with the newcomer... and let go a sigh of relief, her eyes shutting momentarily to calm her pounding heart.

( @thoughtlocks▐ █ RATINGS, LOVE JACK XO // ACCEPTING )

ATTRACTIVENESS:

    repulsive ― hideous ― ugly ― not attractive ― unappealing ― not unattractive ― meh ― no preference ― ok ― mildly attractive ― nice looking ― cute ― adorable ― attractive ― pleasant on the eyes ― good looking ― hot ― sexy ― beautiful ― gorgeous ― hot damn ― would tap that ― perfect ― godlike ― holy fuck there are no words

PERSONALITY:

    grating ― irritating ― frustrating ― boring ― confusing at best ― awkward ― unreasonable ― psychotic ― disturbing ― interesting ― engaging ― affectionate ― aggressive ― ambitious ― anxious ― artistic ― bad tempered ― bossy ― charismatic ― appealing ― unappealing ― creative ― courageous ― dependable ― unreliable ― unpredictable ― predictable ― devious ― dim ― extroverted ― introverted ― egotistical ― gregarious ― fabulous ― impulsive ― intelligent ― sympathetic ― talkative ― up beat ― peaceful ― calming ― badass ― flexible

HOW LIKELY THEY WOULD BE TO HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

    not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending ― fuck no! ― never ― no way ― not likely ― not sure ― indifferent ― i’m asexual ― maybe ― probably ― it depends ― fairly likely ― likely ― yeah sure ― yes ― would tap that ― hell yes ― fuck yes! ― wishing that could happen right now ― as many times as possible ― we are already having sex

LEVEL OF FRIENDSHIP:

    never in a million years ― worst of enemies ― enemies ― rivals ― indifferent ― neutral ― acquaintance ― friendly toward each other ― casual friends ― friends ― good friends ― best friends ― fuck buddies ― bosom buddies ― practically the same person ― would die for them ― true friends ― my only friend

FIRST IMPRESSION OF THEM:

    i hate them so much ― i don’t like them ― i don’t trust them ― they annoy me ― they’re weird ― i’m indifferent ― meh ― they seem alright ― they’re growing on me ― truce ― i think i like them ― i like them ― i’m not sure if i trust them ― i trust them ― they’re cool ― they’re genuine ― i think we’re going to get along ― i really like them ― i think i’m in love ― oh fuck they’re hot ― i love them

CURRENT IMPRESSION OF THEM:

    i hate them so much ― i don’t like them ― i don’t trust them ― they annoy me ― they’re weird ― i’m indifferent ― meh ― they seem alright ― they’re growing on me ― truce ― i think i like them ― i like them ― i’m not sure if i trust them ― i trust them ― they’re cool ― they’re genuine ― i think we’re going to get along ― i really like them ― i think i’m in love ― oh fuck they’re hot ― i love them

HOW GOOD OF A KISSER:

@thoughtlocks▐ █  “KISSED” // NOT ACCEPTING

💋‍  7. JAWLINE

She is ice carved in lithesome limbs and sleek form – cat-like, supple, woven in magicks bled into sinew and stars alike by the will of something that still evades his snatching fingertips. But she does not. She stands there at his desk waiting for further instruction, the prize snatched from the company of her companions still wandering the hellscape far below them.

He knows she can hear him coming, the step of sneakers so out of place on a man with five summer condos and a diamond pony. But he has always been the wild card, the agent of chaos in a galaxy he wants leashed into order – his order, his unyielding command.  That’s why sirens are a rarity, a true and genuine curiosity in a universe where there are too few. It makes his fingers itch, makes a fire of excitement flush hot in his belly just to have something new, untamable, dangerous. And he’s the one who wants her unleashed on the unworthy just to watch her take in the sight of the bodies crumpled in piles, fallen in the wake of her holy name.

(And not the one already collared in his care, the one in the cage opened only with I love you.)

Her spine stiffens a rigid line of steel when he leans in behind her. It only makes him breathe a chuckle warm against her ear, nose nudging through the silk fell of hair. “Waiting for me, kitten?”

His hands skirt down to the wide sway of her hips, clutch there in a lazy squeeze as he leans in enough for her to feel the outline of his pocketwatch against her shoulder and the buttons of his waistcoat outlined into her back. She never sinks back against him, never rubs her curves into the angle of his hips or reach back to twist his hair between her fingers. She only bristles needles and barbed wire, only curls a lip with disgust that somehow pulls him tighter, deeper.

“I told you not to call me that.”

Jack parts his mouth to reply with his usual taunt, but it stills itself at the tip of his tongue when she actually does tilt her face closer so that her nose brushes the square ridge of his jaw. There’s still nothing that indicates interest, nothing to offer her compliance in the fantasies he dangles at her in every touch, every poison word. But he stands still and waits, patient enough to see what else that siren has to spin.

One hand reaches up and as it clutches his chin, he remembers the strength hidden in fingers slender enough to betray that force in their reach. It’s just more heat in his blood, more light flickered alive in his eyes. Her face is still only a scowl and he feels it in her lips when they actually brush the ghost of kisses along his jaw. Slow, agonizingly slow, and soft in the way that teases him when he knows she could probably bite him feral if she so chose. It prompts a sigh past his teeth, though prickles a warning down his back all the same. It’s still there, still the precipice of danger when her eyes lock on his so unimpressed but so intent that he wonders…

But then she slinks away, shoves him aside so she can leave the room entirely.

          ❝ Alrigh’ mate?