#shiny object fixation

[morgandria]

A bit of honey.

I’m late, but this is my #HaggingOut for July on the theme of Honey. It’s more a collection of things regarding bees and some recipes, since I didn’t have any active honey-based projects in July.

I love bees. I always have. I think of bees as a symbol of plenty and fertility, and a sign that a place is thriving. You can’t have a healthy land and a hearty harvest without the work of bees. Like most mammals I dislike getting stung, but it’s rare, and I’m rather content to let them buzz around me so long as we’re not pissing each other off.

Every summer I have a companion spirit that moves with me, who arrives in May and leaves by Canadian Thanksgiving. Grackle is a common guest. Last summer it was Garden Spider. I’ve had Frog, Toad, Snail, Spider, Garter Snake and Dragonfly. But most often it’s Bee, usually in the guise of a bumblebee.

I have made many lovely pieces of jewelry featuring bees over the years, a few of which I’ve kept with me:

And there’s a few that have moved on, but still remain favorites. I made a ritual cord that had bee charms for the tassel ends, and a full set of Aset regalia for a fellow covener’s first time as the vessel in an Invocation ritual that featured bees. I cannot think of things Kemetic without thinking of “They of Sedge and Bee”.

My grandparents always had buckwheat honey, which is strong and dark and thick, and that’s where my palate has stayed. I like most honey, but buckwheat honey from the fields around me sings to me. I buy my own honey from a local farm at the farmer’s market who really work hard to nurture the local native landscape. They also sell a huge bucket of their regular honey that let me bake and Craft with it to my heart’s content for quite a while.

I’m going to share two recipes, and then toddle off:

http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2008/09/majestic-and-moist-honey-cake/

Smitten Kitchen’s Honey Cake is hands down the best recipe I’ve tried. I stud mine heavily with nuts, more than they call for, but it’s equally as good without. I’m sure with some finangling it can be made suitable for various diets (although not vegan). I heartily recommend that you use 1tsp. of baking powder, though, and not 1 tbsp!

And I’ll share a simple Honey and Oat salt scrub recipe for the bath - it leaves the skin glowing and smells amazing.

Honey and Oat Sugar Scrub

2 c. Sugar

1 c. honey

1/2 c. oats

2 tsp. vanilla extract or 5 drops vanilla oil

That’s it from me for #haggingout! See you again soon, hags.

#haggingout #bees #honey #recipes #jewelry #shiny object fixation #witchcraft #hagging out

[gl1tteryzebra]

hey gorgeous 🙈 I feel like rafe is such a gym bro and he would definitely mansplain like how to grow his glutes or something idc about lol and reader’s just giggling and nodding along blushing bc he’s flexing his muscles and pointing to which ones he needs to ‘work’ on 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

hiiii my queen 😋 your brain needs to be studied cos ur such a genius for this…

"so you wanna make sure your weight sits back on your hips…”

despite the fact that you were nodding along enthusiastically to rafe’s instructions, you couldn’t prevent your mind from drifting elsewhere like some unleashed puppy— chasing after whatever shiny object piqued your interest.

the green muscle shirt clung deliciously to his chest; pumped muscles flattered by the tight material. your gaze fixated on every ridge and bulging vein that was accentuated. a small giggle slipping past your glossed lips as his pecs squeezed together at the top of the motion— only then did his blue orbs met yours in the mirror.

"hey...hey, you listening, kid?" he released the barbell with a huff, a sweaty palm tapping the fat of your cheeks. “this shit’s important.”

"I am listening,” you whined with an unconvincing pout, eyelashes batting up at him as you gestured to his exposed arms. “what ‘bout these ones? they’re are so big.”

“huh—oh my biceps, you like ‘em?” his lips stretched into a haughty smirk as your fingers experimentally dragged over the flexed muscle, softened features contouring into fascination as they hardened beneath your touch. “wanna see how I work ‘em?”

“uh-huh!”

the gym was fairly desolate at this time of night meaning you could sit on one of the empty benches as rafe stood before you, biceps expanding as he curled the dumbbell to his chest. you nibbled on your bottom lip, squirming in your seat; with each repetition his breath came out in a laboured grunt, face twisting into a pained grimace. you couldn’t help it, attention drifting to earlier this morning when he’d held his weight above you, hips ploughing into your own with an ardent passion. heat blossomed beneath your cheeks at the memory and you fidgeted with the sleeve of rafe’s hoodie to distract yourself.

“last one,” he groaned, arm shaking as he completed his final rep. “ten.”

“wowww, good job, rafe! you’re so strong.” you sprung from your spot, entangling yourself with his dewy skin, leaning up to place a quick peck to the corner of his lips.

“yeah? you think? strong enough to do this…” his arms wrapped around your thighs, hoisting you into his embrace. an airy shriek floated from your chest as his lips attached to your neck, sucking hard.

“ah—no, stop—ha! that tickles…”

he chuckled into your skin, lowering your giggling frame back to the floor once he was satisfied. your fingers splayed across the expanse of his abdomen, absentmindedly kneading into the taut muscles.

“gotta work on my abs, they’re real pain in the ass to train,” you glanced up at that, lips dropping into a frown. “oh, I didn’t know that.”

“ha—yeah, I was thinkin’… maybe you could help me with that.”

sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron drabble #divider by @fairytopea #rafe cameron prompt #bimbo!reader #gym bro!rafe

[inkykeiji]

character: valentino warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, possessiveness, toxic relationship, daddy kink, gun play, slight oral fixation, fem!reader who has unspecified piercings notes: for @sovya, who is val’s precious lil princesa ♡ and who always listens to my insane ramblings about ideas i had at exactly 6:20am hehe c: words: 687

Valentino has an interesting little quirk, you’ve come to learn; he always has to have something of his inside of you. It’s a simple fact, really. No matter what it is or where you are, a piece of him must always be within you in some way, shape, or form. 

He, of course, prefers for it to be a part of his body—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—but unfortunately that isn’t always feasible. 

And, of course, there are other objects that work well, too. 

Sometimes it’s his gun, barrel rammed down your throat as far as it possibly can be, teeth scraping against the N of his bedazzled name as you desperately attempt to swallow more, knees sinking into the plush shag of the carpet beneath his work desk, your chin resting on his thigh as you sit at his feet. Your lips pucker tightly around the barrel as they suck, thick dribbles of saliva oozing from the corners of your mouth to drizzle off your jaw in shimmering cords, while a dutiful tongue curls around the heated metal in a protective, almost loving embrace, eager to siphon it further into your body. 

Sometimes it’s one of his shiny gold rings, pressed flat under your tongue as you suck it into your flesh during your daily outings, the metal clacking daintily against your teeth while you mindlessly toy with it, the tip of your tongue hooking through the band then circling the halo in a lazy, messy outline, encrusted salt melting against your tastebuds, staining your tongue with the zest of his sweat. 

Sometimes it’s his favourite bullet vibrator, soft pink silicon engraved with his full name and a smattering of cute little hearts buried deep in your cunt as you go about your day, never knowing when Val might turn it on, turn it up, but always knowing that he’s watching through the discreet cameras he had Vox plant all over your shared condo, always ready for that telltale video call that you better fucking answer right before you cum—and knowing that if you don’t, you’ll be suffering endless edging until Daddy gets home (and sometimes after that, too). 

He gets off on it just as much as you do, chuckling darkly when your knees knock together and your thighs tense, a sharp gasp spilling from your throat and nails chipping as your fingers curl around the edge of the kitchen counter, tauntingly asking if something is wrong, amorcito? as his face swims into view, sadism stretched sharply across his face, eyes glowing with the knowledge that he holds all of your pleasure, all of that power, in the silky palm of his hand, controlling it with the single flick of a notch. 

Sometimes it’s his custom-made heart-shaped studs and barbells, embellished with ostentatious V’s and filling all of your piercings, glinting in the late afternoon sun or heating under your clothes as he drags you from store to store, an arm tightly linked through your own—showing you off, his most cherished accessory, his prettiest prized possession, his best accomplishment.  

If he has to pick a favourite, though, it’s his fingers, one of his four hands wedged between your soft thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt full and idly stroking the silky walls as he works—writing scripts or reviewing footage—and you play—mashing buttons on your pretty pink handheld or colouring a picture for him, book folded at the spine and balancing against your bent knees, little tongue playing with the point of your fang as you concentrate. 

And yet, despite the sensuality of it all, it isn’t even sexual half of the time, going far beyond the shallow pleasures of carnality. Because that secret, shared knowledge that there is a piece of him constantly inside of you—a private claim of ownership in the most intimate sense—provides a deep-seated comfort; a warm, dense calm that roots itself at the very core of your souls, that soothes anxieties and serves as a steadfast reminder: that you are owned, that he owns you, that you belong to one another, always. 

#valentino x reader #valentino smut #val x reader #val smut #valentino x you #val x you #hazbin hotel smut #APOLOGIES FOR MY FUCKIN 19TH CENTURY RUN ON SENTENCES HA HA HA #inky.val #inky.hazbin

[thedemonofcat]

Fae have a fondness for shiny objects, and once they spot something gleaming, it triggers an impulse to possess it.

When Jaskier, a fae, encounters Geralt, he becomes fixated on acquiring Geralt's medallion due to its shimmering allure.

#the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #joey batey #the witcher #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fic ideas #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #anya cholatra #the witcher season 3 #anya chalotra #the witcher season three #fae jaskier #witcher yennefer

[zekepng]

𝐂𝐀𝐓 & 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄

Being unleashed into the forest with a murder chasing you, you have the choice of fighting or flying. Fighting was always his favourite, yet the chase was always yours because you knew what would happen once he caught you.

Ghost face one shot, (TW) - knifeplay, punishment, spanking, fingering, rough sex, explicit content

Ao3 Link

Author's note: I wrote this for fun, so apologies for it being very short

The ominous forest stretches out as far as the eye can see. Lost and disoriented, the darkness obscures any sense of direction, leaving you feeling vulnerable and uncertain. 

A sense of anticipation fills the air as the sound of footsteps reverberates through the dense forest, abruptly ceasing.

You feel the impact of your body against the coarse bark of the tree, trying to catch your breath as silently as possible. Trembling with fear, you raise your hand to your mouth, unsure of how to evade the clutches of a murderer. 

Little did he know, the pursuit was always your favourite. 

Amidst the barren tree branches, a faint light beckons, while the resounding thud of sturdy boots draws nearer with each passing moment. With each step getting closer, you can feel your heart racing, as if it's ready to burst out of your chest. 

Even though you're both alone in the forest, the sound of heavy breathing can be heard right away making you question whether it’s him or not. 

You remain completely still, except for your eyes, as you vigilantly observe the area to your right. You notice a shiny metallic object that grabs your attention. Without hesitation, you swiftly emerge from your hiding spot behind the tree and deliver a swift strike to his shin with your right foot. 

The unexpected events take him by surprise, evident in his physical reactions. As he drops to one knee, he thrusts his right hand forward, trying to catch you with the knife. You quickly shift your body, causing you to lose your balance and fall backwards. 

You let out a deep grunt as you collapse onto the ground, giving him the opening he's been anticipating. An overwhelming sense of fear engulfs you like a raging inferno, compelling you to desperately claw at the earth and hastily retreat from the figure, who swiftly rises to his feet. 

His imposing presence looms over you, seemingly increasing in height with each passing moment. As he mindlessly wields the knife in his hand, you rely on your only defence—your legs. 

You vigorously kick and flail your legs, desperately trying to push him aside. 

Your right leg somehow manages to rise up and knock the knife out of his hand, sending it soaring into the abyss. Seizing the moment, you rely on your own strength to rise from the ground. As you do, his outstretched arm attempts to pull you closer, but you manage to evade his grasp. 

Confronted by the man who has relentlessly pursued you through the dense forest, you cautiously retreat, unwilling to divert your gaze from him. The mask covering his face has small stains and marks that could be dirt or blood. 

His gaze fixates on you as he carefully observes your expression, finding delight in the fear that seems to be overwhelming you. 

Out of nowhere, he lifts both of his hands up beside him, as if he's almost surrendering. The mysterious figure dons thick black gloves, concealing their true identity as they cautiously lower their fingers. 

You appear perplexed as you observe his fingers steadily falling. You maintain your composure as you cautiously retreat from the man, who suddenly quickens his pace by lowering his fingers. 

He raises a solitary finger, holding it up briefly. He keeps fixating on you, and it's hard not to notice the immense delight it's giving him. 

Out of nowhere, the finger descends, and he unveils something hidden behind his back with his right hand. As he retrieves the object from behind him, he tilts his head in a seemingly taunting manner, leaving you perplexed until another knife materialises in his hand. 

"Run," his voice commands, famous and familiar. 

You quicken your steps, your eyes wide with anticipation, as the man behind you resumes his pursuit, turning the chase into a thrilling game of cat and mouse. 

As soon as you catch sight of him hurrying his steps, you swiftly pivot your body and set your sights on the flickering light in the distance—a captivating new goal. 

You can't help but notice the metallic taste that fills your mouth, causing you to wonder if all that running is taking a toll on your body. The speed at which your feet transport you is truly remarkable. You would have given up a while ago but you were determined to beat your record. 

With each heavy footfall on the unforgiving terrain, a deep tremor reverberates through your being. The sight of an old house, illuminated by flickering light, brings a wave of emotion, almost bringing tears to your eyes. 

The house appears even more menacing than the thing that is pursuing you in the forest. 

As you glance behind you, you desperately hope that he isn't as near as you fear. However, your heart sinks as you catch sight of a gleaming blade hurtling towards you. 

In a matter of seconds, you swiftly manoeuvre your body to evade any potential harm from the menacing blade. Simultaneously, you hold onto hope that the door ahead of you is accessible. 

You instinctively hurl yourself against the door, propelling your body forward. As the door swings open, it nearly propels you into the house, revealing a surprisingly well-decorated interior that stands in stark contrast to the dilapidated exterior. 

In just a matter of moments, your gaze lands upon the staircase situated to your right. You quickly hurry towards the stairs without considering a plan. 

Upon reaching the fifth step, an intense sensation grips your left leg, forcefully dragging you downward. 

You feel a sudden impact as your body collides with the unforgiving stairs, leaving you breathless. The strong exclamation "fuck!" Bursts from your mouth in a rough grunt as you sense yourself being pulled down the steps. 

An intense and noticeable pain spreads through your entire body, as if it originates from deep within your veins. 

He releases his grip on your foot and grabs your thigh while twisting your shoulder to guide your body to turn over. You struggle against his grasp, but in the midst of the struggle, he brandishes a knife, aiming to strike. 

The sharp blade grazes your cheek, leaving behind a vivid crimson mark. 

You vigorously strike him with your hands while wiggling your legs free of his grasp. The male pulls you further down towards him, leaving you trapped beneath him and before he has the chance to do anything else to you, you bring your knee towards your chest and throw it into his stomach. 

With a heavy grunt, he gets choked up and releases his grip on you. You shove the male away from you and watch as he trips down the few short stairs, giving you time to climb up the remainder. 

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” you hear him call out from below but you don’t waste a second. 

Three doors catch your attention as you reach the top of the stairs, each one identical to the other. You run towards the furthest one and pray there will be a way to escape somehow. 

As you slam the door behind you, an object stops it from closing. Looking down to the ground, you notice his foot is wedged between the gaps, preventing you from shutting him out. You grunt and huff as you try to force him out. 

Suddenly, using all of his weight, he knocks the door wide open, sending you flying back. Your body smashes against a dresser, causing everything to slide off. Without seeing his face, you can tell from his body language that a large smirk is evident on his features because he knows he has you. 

He lunges towards you, blocking your exit. As you go to protect yourself by raising your fist towards him, he harshly wraps his digits around your exposed skin and slams you against the wall using all his force. A wince escapes your lips while you try to calm yourself down. 

“Caught you,” his heavy tone whispers like smooth butter. With no warning, he trails his knife along your exposed thigh, inching higher and higher but stopping just before your thong. “You’re getting faster,” he praises. 

He presses his knife against your clothed clit, causing your breath to hitch because he’s teasing you the way he knows you like it, “but not fast enough.”

"You cheated," you accuse, breathless. Struggling against his hold on your hands, you refuse to give in as he strengthens his grasp. "You knew I was going to run into here.” you declare.

He inclines his head as he uses his knee to gently widen the space between your legs. "You had the option to continue running, but instead, you chose the simpler path." Every nerve in your body tingles as his voice resonates, while the blade gently glides over your skin.

Your head moves in a cautious manner, aware of the sharp object tracing your face.

"And due to your actions, I’m going to have to punish you like the slut you are.” His demeanour undergoes a complete transformation, leading to a shift in his tone. Suddenly, without warning, he forcefully hurls your body away from the wall and onto the floor.

Caught off guard, a grunt escapes your lips as you hit the chilly ground. You can't help but notice the imposing figure before you, starting from his sturdy boots and moving up to his mysterious mask, making you feel a lump in your throat.

Gradually, he approaches you, observing your every move as though you were a defenceless creature.

"Get on your knees," he orders as he halts in front of you.

You gaze at him for a few moments, your heart pounding in your chest, uncertain of his next move. Out of nowhere, his sizable hand grabs onto your hair, making you flinch as he lifts you up from the ground until you're on your knees.

With a firm hold on your hair, he leans in closer to your face. “You better start fucking listening, otherwise I won’t be happy.”

In an instant, he releases his hold on your head and begins to unbuckle his trousers. Even though you've been in this situation countless times, a wave of nerves still washes over you.

As he removes his trousers, you are met with the noticeable shape in his boxers. He seizes the band and yanks it down, allowing his thick cock to spring free. 

Innocently, you stare up at him, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you.

His cock appears larger than you recall. The tip is a bubblegum pink with two prominent veins running down the base, seemingly twitching at you, eager to be savoured.

As you look into his eyes, you gently grasp his cock and move in to kiss his tip. You tantalise him by gently swirling your wet tongue around his tip and along his slit, eliciting a deep grunt from his mouth.

As you focus on him, you withdraw and watch as the saliva from your lips falls into your hand. You caress his cock, lubricating it with saliva, and then proceed to take him into your mouth.

A sharp hiss escapes his lips as you once again sense his large hand grabbing onto your hair. He forces your head forward, making his tip reach the back of your throat.

Your eyes widen as you gag with his cock in your mouth. His head tilts back, as he treats you like a puppet, controlling your movements as you struggle. Your face glistens with saliva; tears well up in your eyes as he reaches the back of your throat, yet you remain fixated on him.

He stares down at you as you perform the intimate act. “Look at you, sucking my cock like the whore you are."

He moves your head away from his cock, giving you a moment to catch your breath before thrusting it back into your mouth. The room fills with gags and grunts as he rocks your head faster, signalling his closeness.

"Fuck," he grunts softly as he keeps thrusting into your mouth. He manipulates your head as if you're a puppet controlled by his desires.

He relentlessly mistreats your mouth while muttering curses under his breath. You sense his throbbing cock pulsating in your mouth and with one last thrust, your mouth starts to fill with a heated fluid that shows no sign of stopping.

You try to swallow it, but there's just too much coming out.

He withdraws his cock from your lips, and as he does, some of his release begins to trickle out, flowing down your chin.

“You’re such a fucking mess,” he remarks, running his thumb along your chin to gather the spilled fluid. Suddenly, he pushes his thumb into your mouth, ensuring not a drop is wasted.

He removes his hands from his gloves and tosses them aside. As he walks behind you, he tightly grips your hair strands and pulls you back. Whimpers escape your lips, fueling his excitement.

Suddenly, your body is forcefully pulled towards the bed, but he halts just before you make contact. He abandons you on the floor as he settles into the bed. “Stand up and strip,” he orders.

Gradually, you rise from the ground and position yourself a couple of metres away from him. Feelings of excitement and anticipation surge through you as you begin to remove your top. Tossing the fabric to the side of the room, you then lower your skirt to the floor.

Even with the mask concealing his face, you sense his gaze absorbing every detail of your form.

As you step out of your skirt, you nervously wait for his next words, "everything."

You reach behind yourself to unhook your bra, letting it slip off your arms and land on the floor. Sensations of exposure and vulnerability wash over you as you slide your thong down your legs until it falls to the ground.

“Get down on all fours,” he orders, making your eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

"Wha-" you begin to say, but he swiftly tilts his head at you—a clear warning.

Biting your tongue, you carefully lower yourself to the ground. You kneel and place your hands in front of you, seeking reassurance from him. You notice a slight nod, indicating his desires.

He commands, "“Crawl to me.” His deep and alluring voice whispers those words, “And when you reach me, you’re going to climb onto my lap.” 

You find yourself engulfed in a whirlwind of uncertainty, unable to even consider protesting against him. Following orders, you begin to move towards the man, his attention never leaving you.

Fortunately, the proximity isn't far, but you proceed cautiously, suspecting it might have aroused him.

You grasp his thighs and then climb onto his lap with your exposed body. With your arms around his shoulders, you straddle his lap, anticipating his next move.

He moves in closer to your ear and softly murmurs, "Good girl."

As the two words escape his lips, you’re met with a bundle of pleasure, taking you by surprise. His thumb gently caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion as his fingers explore your inner folds, whispering, "You're always so wet for me."

All at once, his fingers slide into your wet pussy, prompting you to clutch his shoulders and bite your lower lip, nearly breaking the skin.

As gentle whimpers try to break free from your lips, his fingers delve further into you. You move your hips against his, breathing heavily. "P-please..."

“Do you want another finger, baby?” He asks while curving his two thick fingers against your walls.

You nod eagerly, aware that speaking will reduce you to a whimpering wreck.

Without a second thought, he slides two additional fingers into you. Your fingers grip his shoulders tightly as you let out a moan of ecstasy, causing him to savour every moment, “H-holy fuck,” 

He softly murmurs, "I wish you could see yourself dripping down my hand, you slut," almost pushing you to the brink.

“Fuck me,” you exclaim as you keep grinding your hips against him. "P-please..." Your words fade into a soft sound of pleasure as you try to communicate.

"P-please fuck me," you finally manage to plead.

With a single fluid motion, he withdraws his fingers from you and pulls you close as he rises to his feet. He swiftly repositions you on the bed, facing you downward with your ass facing him.

A sudden jolt of pain reverberates through your body when his hand makes contact with your ass. Sensations intensify as he glides his cock between your folds, making you nearly plead for more.

As you open your mouth to speak, a sudden, intense, choked up moan flees from your throat as his thick cock enters your tight pussy. With his head tilting back, he murmurs, "I forgot how tight you are,"

You grip the comforter tightly as you sense him thrusting into you. He quickly increases his speed, building up tension inside you, leading to muffled moans escaping your lips.

“You love my cock fucking your tight pussy, don’t you?” His voice is tense as he poses the question, and when you struggle to reply, he smacks your ass and then forcefully pulls your hair to lift your head.

You nod with tears in your eyes and whisper, "Yes, yes, I do."

“Because you’re my fucking slut,” he grunts as he intensifies his movements inside you. 

#ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface one shot #scream #scream oneshot #scream smut #knifeplay #roughfuck #smut #zekepng

[queenimmadolla]

do you think we could maybe possibly 👉👈 see penny or wayne’s first christmas? 🥹

you got it, babe! lemme present to you, Penny's first Christmas :') ♡

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader) Summary: It's your daughter Penny's first Christmas, which means Eddie HAS TO sing to her. He has to.

Warnings: very brief sad eddie, but it’s okay because he has you and penny :)

a/n: this request is also inspired by @kitmon who beta'd this AND wrote their version which is an absolute gift this holiday season. read. it.

more dad!eddie and penny (plus baby Wayne) can be found here. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Christmas in your life was always hit or miss. More so miss the older you got, though you didn’t like to talk about it much considering you were only 20 years old and way too young to be jaded. Still, you wanted to capture the same sort of contentment and comfort it brought you as a child for your own baby.

Eddie felt the same, having never really had an idealistic Christmas. Wayne had tried to make the holiday decent for him, but they both missed his mom so much, they usually just ordered a pizza and spent the day on the couch watching the few home videos they had. Two tapes.

He remembers his mom trying her hardest to make it good for him, can recall being given a present while they were cuddling in the backseat of her scrappy, near-broken down car, surrounded by blankets for warmth while his dad and his . . . supplies were strewn about their shack of a home. It’d been a cassette, a mixed volume of Christmas songs Eddie had developed a fixation with after hearing Christmas music play in the various department stores his mother took him to during the day for warmth, unwilling to expose him to whatever it was his father was cooking in their one room lodge. 

She’d made sure he was snug in one of the blankets before she turned the car on and played the tape; they'd spent the rest of Christmas day singing along to it, over and over again. It had been the last Christmas he’d ever had with her.

While it was a memory he cherished, he was keen on never letting Penny experience Christmas, or any day, like that.

It was the reason why he hadn’t protested when you insisted on decorating the trailer with an almost sickening amount of red and green decorations. He’d never seen so much tinsel in his life. Actually, up until then he’d never encountered it before.

Penny was drawn to it, as she was any shiny thing, and often had to be dragged away when she tried to crawl as fast as she could to the Christmas tree so she could yank it off and shove it into her mouth, desperate to chew–as well as she could without any teeth actually fully out–on anything to soothe her gums from the pain of the teeth trying to break through.  Eddie couldn’t wait until they’d come in and she wouldn’t be in pain anymore, nor shoving things in her mouth. The night the tree had gone up as well as the decorations, he’d spent more time than he’d care to admit crawling around the floor to make sure none of the hooks for the ornaments or any of the small light fixtures had dropped to the ground because now that he was a dad, every single thing he saw was a choking hazard for his baby girl. 

And she loved to give him heart attacks.

Like right then, as she opened her mouth as wide as she could to try and stuff a bell that had fallen off one of the bows tied to your bedroom door knob, into her mouth. Eddie dropped Sweetheart, wincing as he heard the body of it make contact with the carpet, and darted over to where Penny had plopped herself, carefully pulling the bell out of her tiny, surprisingly strong and drooly grasp.

“Pretty one, that doesn’t go in your mouth,” he cooed, shoving the bell into his pocket before lifting her into his arms as she whimpered, head moving around to try and spy the object she’d been about to consume. When it became clear to her he’d taken it away, her plump lower lip jutted out and wobbled while her big brown eyes began to fill with water.

“Oh, no.” He frowned, mimicking her expression before he pressed a couple of kisses to her squishy cheek as her whimpering intensified, fat tears rolling down to meet his lips. “My poor baby, daddy hurt your feelings, didn’t he?”

Even though he was saving her freaking life, he still had to apologize.

“I’m sorry, honey. Why don’t we play with one of your other toys, instead?” Eddie readjusted his hold on her as her whimpering turned into cries, the forced hiccuping kind with her eyes squeezed shut to force out more tears in an effort to make him feel like the Worst Father™ in the world. Eddie sat down in front of the couch, a crying Penny perched on his lap as he reached for one of the few discarded toys she’d gotten bored of earlier. It was a green rattle, shaped like Kermit the frog’s head, one of Penny’s favorite toys since she seemed to be obsessed with the muppets, even at her young age. “Look, baby! It’s Kermit.” He shook the rattle a little ways from her face to gain her attention and like magic, her cries stopped, breath only hitching with her hiccups as she focused on the toy in his hand. Here came Eddie’s favorite part.

Penny’s breathing got a little more intense, heavy as her eyes widened with an almost scary amount of focus behind them before she threw her weight forward, only stopped from face planting on the carpet by Eddie’s hand around her plump tummy as she grasped the rattle. Then, she let out the happiest shriek, aggressively shaking the rattle before she began whacking Kermit’s head against the carpet on the side of Eddie’s thigh. See, while he knew she liked The Muppets because of how transfixed she became when watching the movies, he couldn’t figure out whether she loved or hated Kermit. Eddie chuckled as she let out various coos of delight, all high in pitch as she began smiling and laughing. “There’s my happy girl.” He lifted her briefly to give her cheek another kiss before setting her down between his legs as he carefully stood up, eyes still focused on his daughter happily abusing The Muppet toy. “I can’t tell if she likes Kermit or if she has a great disdain for him,” you commented as you emerged from the bedroom, glancing back at the door while you closed it due to its lack of jingle. 

God, you really were his other half, always thinking the same thing as him. Usually. Eddie dug around his pocket, pulling the bell out to showcase it to you. “Your daughter took it upon herself to go on a quest in search of you and almost choked on this.” Your heart grew three times its size as you learned not only had your baby missed you enough to go looking for you, she apparently found you and had yanked off a bell dangling from the bow secured around your bedroom door knob to get to you. “Why is she my daughter when she stresses you out?” You gave him a playful glare as you walked over, scooping Penny into your arms. She immediately threw the Kermit rattle away in favor of gripping onto your sweater, furiously trying to pull the neckline down. You grabbed hold of one of her little hands to stop her, “Uh-uh. Nope. You finished eating half an hour ago and you are not about to use my nipple for your teething.” You’d made that mistake one too many times already and while it hadn’t been so bad at the start of her teething, now that she actually had teeth coming in, it hurt like a bitch when she’d clamp her gums down.  Penny didn’t like that. Her happiness immediately died away, replaced with the forced tears again. You groaned, ready to submit to her demands when Eddie picked Sweetheart up off the ground, strumming once to catch Penny’s attention.

Her head snapped in his direction, waterline shiny with tears she was ready to abandon. She knew what Eddie bringing the guitar out meant. Well, usually. Eddie would tune Sweetheart around her, maybe play some of Corroded Coffin’s less harsh stuff to her but when it came down to the real deal, he��d usually put a pair of noise muffling headphones, he’d bought especially for her, on her cute little head. 

“You like that, little bitty pretty one?” Eddie laughed, the sound so soft it somehow had you blushing.

Penny’s lips parted, gums exposed as her little nose wrinkled with how hard she was grinning at her dad.

“I’ll be right back,” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her soft curls and your forehead before he disappeared into the bedroom, returning moments later with the acoustic.

“Alright, now we’re ready to party.” At the last word, Penny released your sweater to clap her hands together, it’s what she knew to do at parties.

Eddie sat down on the couch and you followed, sitting  on the other cushion, placing Penny between you two as he got settled.

“Today calls for something special,” Eddie licked his lips, fingers gently drumming along the neck as he thought back to that last Christmas in his mom’s car, to one song she sang with a level of emotion he hadn’t been able to understand at the time.

He cleared his throat, fingers plucking at the chords as he began.

One chord. Two, three, four chords.

“Bells will be ringing, this sad, sad New Year’s 

Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues.” 

He crooned, palm tapping on the body of the guitar in rhythm with the beat he knew startlingly well for someone who was more of a Grinch than a Christmas enthusiast. 

He remembered every Christmas after that last one being exceptionally lonely. The one after his mother died was spent in his dad’s VW bus while he worked in the house. His dad got him a toy he didn’t have any batteries for and left him with the blankets formally stashed in his mom’s car, though he’d check on him whenever he remembered. He’d been six and all alone. 

“My baby's gone, I have no friends

 To wish me greetings, once again.”

Christmas of ‘71 hadn’t been much better, but he’d learned to really use his imagination to escape. While it was another holiday spent in the bus, he’d had a couple of his toys to act out his stories, and his dad remembered to get him batteries for the new one he got him. He didn’t check on him that Christmas, but Eddie was fine. By Christmas of ‘77, Eddie was used to spending the holiday, as well as most of his days alone. His dad had moved on from giving him a toy to comics. Instead of coming up with the stories, he’d read them straight out of his mom’s books (which he fished out of the trash after his dad threw them away). His favorite was Lord of the Rings. 

“Choirs will be singin' Silent Night, 

  Christmas carols by candlelight

  Please come home for Christmas, 

  please come home for Christmas

  If not for Christmas, by New Year's night.”

Christmas of ‘78 was his first with Wayne, who had insisted they spend it together in the living room despite how little they’d interacted all year and how awkward their dynamic still was. Every Christmas following was significantly better and he deemed it perfect when you came along. Only he’d been wrong. 

Eddie tore his gaze away from the guitar in his hands and pulled his head out of the past in favor of staring at his future: the baby girl in her red and white striped Christmas onesie gazing up at him in wonder, and her beautiful mother just behind her.

“Friends and relations send salutations

Sure as the stars shine above.”

Eddie leaned down over the neck of the guitar, briefly pressing his forehead to Penny’s as she let out a happy shriek, her little hands reaching up to rest on either side of his head. He chuckled, giving her a wink as he leaned back up—not too far away—and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Before he could get the next verse out, Penny let out a long babble that was much too coordinated to be just baby talk and Eddie’s eyes gleamed, heart just about ready to explode into a confetti when he realized she was trying to sing with him. 

“You wanna sing with me, baby?” He asked, voice soft and face nearly splitting with his grin when she answered by moving onto her knees and extending her hands in the air, bouncing on her diaper-cushioned bottom.

Penny was dancing. 

It was both the most adorable thing and also freaking hilarious considering she looked like she was trying to pump a crowd up on the dance floor rather than listening to her daddy sing her Christmas songs.

Eddie threw his head back with laughter and you were smothering your own behind your palm, wanting nothing more than to run and get the camcorder but you couldn’t miss a single second of this. 

Once he’d recovered, having been strumming the same chords he left off on much longer than he should have, he continued singing to Penny who wasn’t at all put off from crunking on the couch by her parents’ laughter. 

“But this is Christmas, yes, Christmas, my dear,

 Some time of year to be with the one you love.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to her little nose after crooning out the last word, flinching a little when she practically uppercut him with her head since she refused to stop bopping up and down. 

“So won't you tell me you'll never more roam?

 Christmas and New Year's will find you home.”

The long winded babbling picked up after that as Penny decided she could dance and sing with her daddy.

Eddie had never had a better singing partner, no offense to you.

He leaned forward again, staring into Penny's pretty brown eyes—he knew she got them from him, but her eyes were so much prettier than his, he couldn’t explain it—fingers barely even strumming the chords as Penny slowly settled, shiny mouth dropping open as her chunky cheeks cinched up with the force of her wide smile to match her dad’s.

“There’ll be no more sorrow,” Eddie sang, his chest aching with the love he had for her as her babbling turned into cooing once more, “no grief and pain. And I'll be happy, happy once again.”

The last note drifted through the trailer and you understood your cue.

“Yay!” You began clapping to encourage your daughter who immediately joined you, chubby, dimpled hands applauding eagerly for her dad as she let out a couple more shrieks of delight and momentarily glanced back at you to make sure you saw her clapping, look mommy! I’m clapping again! I can do it, too! 

Eddie preened under the attention, bowing forward.

“Thank you, thank you. You were a spectacular crowd. Especially you in the front.”

Eddie booped Penny’s nose and she giggled.

“And I’ll see you backstage.” Eddie winked at you, smirking and pleased when he saw you shift around and get all shy. As you discovered almost immediately after giving birth, having Eddie Munson’s baby didn’t make you immune to his flirting. 

“Alright, rockstar. I was backstage this morning.”

“And you’re gonna be backstage tonight, several times. And tomorrow morning, a couple more times after that, when we drop Penny off at Maude and Wayne’s, in the van at least twice this week, and—honey, I can go on.”

You threw the cushion you were resting against at him and he dodged it effortlessly, shooting you a mischievous look before he focused back on the baby girl between you. 

“Mommy doesn’t wanna show me any love,” Eddie pouted at your daughter and you scoffed, eyes narrowing at the blatant LIE. The things you wanted to show him were not appropriate to do in front of your child and he knew it, “Can daddy have a kiss?”

Penny babbled but she knew what that word meant, and she loved giving kisses.

Penny leaned forward, practically drooling all over Eddie’s pursed lips as she gave him the world’s sloppiest kiss.

Okay, so she didn’t exactly know how to give kisses, yet, but she still loved doing whatever the heck it was she was doing. She’d get there as soon as she developed better motor skills.

“Aw, thank you, baby.”

Eddie scooped her up, cradling her to his chest and you were moments away from mentally listing all the reasons you could not give him another baby when Wayne entered the trailer, arms full of presents and Maude trailing quietly behind him. 

“Merry Christmas,” he called over the stack and Eddie handed Penny over to you as he got up to help Wayne.

“You didn’t need to go overboard for Pen, Pops.” Eddie commented, carefully unloading them under the tree in the corner of the den alongside the gifts you and Eddie had purchased for each other and Penny, as well as the gifts your friends had dropped off earlier (most of which were also for Penny).

“The majority of that is not me,” Wayne stated and Maude blushed, making her way over to the couch to give you the softest of hugs. 

She reached a hesitant hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls and you shifted Penny around in your hold until she was closer to Maude.

Penny and Maude were very familiar with each other, Maude watched her while both you and Eddie were working and on date nights, but the widow from a few trailers down was still shy at times, never wanting to overstep boundaries that weren’t really there.

She was kind and you were happy Wayne had finally found some happiness rather than simply existing in the trailer (that was now yours and Eddie’s) for the rest of his life.

Penny reached for Maude and she happily accepted her into her arms, allowing you to join the boys. 

“We appreciate it, but Penny’s probably going to be more taken with the wrapping paper than anything in those boxes,” you said as you stood next to Eddie, who tucked you under his arm.

Wayne gave you the smallest of smiles, almost proud looking. “‘That’s what Maude said. Didn’t just get her toys, she also got her stuff like yarn since the little rugrat’s always reachin’ for Maude’s.”

The three of you turned to watch Maude set Penny down on the carpet. She immediately began crawling for the presents under the tree, stopping and sitting in front of the largest which was wrapped in a reflective green paper with a beautiful red bow.

Seeing your daughter surrounded by so many gifts and a family that obviously loved her brought you immense joy.

Yes, Christmas used to be hit or miss for you. You had a feeling that would no longer be the case for you and your family.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #girl dad!eddie munson x reader #girl dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #pennyverse #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #queenimmadolla #eddie munson christmas

[hobiebrownbrowser]

Enlighten Me

Submissive Hobie Brown x FEM!reader

🔞"NO KIDS ALLOWED"🔞

Summary: It has been a while since the both of you had gotten to hold each other.

Contents: Anal, Oral sex, Submissiveness, Bondage, Anal play, extreme orgasm, Sex Toys, Overstimulation.

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. His face was serious as he told you that he wanted you to enlighten him. You didn't know what he meant, until he pulled out a few toys from your drawer. His eyes fixated on you as he inches closer.

He wanted you to make him overdose on pleasure, Wanting to feel every bit of his body disintegrate from your touch. He wanted to feel your hands on his skin, how your nails grazed softly upon him.

He felt vulnerable every time he was with you, Telling you that every part of his body was calling for you. Hobie gliding his hand up your spine, whispering out your name, Ushering you towards the bed as he lays down comfortably.

Your figure finding it's way between his legs. You tied him to the bedpost, His arms and legs spread beautifully for you. You admire his body, pulling off your lingerie so his eyes could linger on your presence.

He told you how beautiful you were, Taking the aroma of your scent in as you reach over to grab the lubricant. Your scent was delicious and sweet, A shiver running up his spine as he feels something cold coating his cock.

His body adjusting to the cold thick substance that was dripping down the base of his dick. He watched as it oozed down, His breath stuck in his throat as you wrap your pretty little hands around him. Your grip firm as you give light strokes.

He could already feel his stress melting away. His skin burning with passion as you sped up the pace. The man below trying to stiffen his cries. You told him not too, Adrenaline making his heartbeat painfully in his chest.

He felt the way your hand would caress his thigh, A loud whimper emitting from him as you smear the lubricant below his cock, probing at his anal with your finger. His hips bucking as your finger slowly slid into him and back out repeatedly.

His chest heaving heavily as he feels you add another digit, Mind completely blank once you'd found a perfect rhythm. The tip of your fingers hitting his prostate so deliciously. Your name releasing from his lips as his orgasm grows near.

He didn't want you to stop, desperately pulling on the shackles that binded him from movement. The change of pace making him see stars. His hips following your fingers, Wanting them deeper inside of him. Pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock. He was so close, yet you rejected him.

He begged you to let him cum, His back arching off the bed as you slowly pulled away from his distraught figure. A shiny object in your palm. You placed it around his cock, forbidding him what he wanted for so long.

You watched him pull on the restraints, A look of mischievous on your face, Grabbing another sex toy from the pile. There was no way that was fitting inside of him, A dildo in your hands, coated with more lubricant.

"Color?" You could feel his uneasiness, A flutter in his abdomen before saying green. You gave him a sweet innocent smile, telling him to relax his body.

He watched you wrap your palm around his cock once more, A broken cry escaping him as you push the tip of the toy inside. His legs trembling once it had brushed against his prostate. He felt every inch, Every jolt of the toy before it halted in him.

You praised him for doing so well, Pulling out the toy halfway before pushing it back in. You watched as the tied man became a whimpering mess of coherent words, Every thrust of the toy sending electrical shocks through his body, Edging him closer to his orgasm.

His hands gripping tightly onto whatever he could reach. Tears threatening to swell in his eyes as he begs you to take the cock ring off. You hushed him, your strokes matching with your thrusts, sending him over the edge.

His cries getting louder until he was repeatedly whining out your name. Desperately pulling on the restraints to not fall into the abyss. His head hung back from your sight. Incompatible mumbles making you finally give into his pleas.

One last cry faltering from his lips before the finale. You stopped everything, A look of concern plastered on your face as he repeatedly changed consistency. His colors flickering like a strobe you'd find at a party.

He's colors ranging from his orgasm. Changing from pink, too grey then, too purple and back to his spiderman consistency. You watched in awe, still a bit worried as you usher him back to reality. His shaky breathing slowly calming as you unshackle his body.

You immediately got up to get him some water, Returning to see he'd passed out.You still had to pull the dildo out of him, being careful not to hurt him. You cooed him to wake up, Apologizing for pushing his limits too far.

He only hummed, chugging down the water and pulling you towards him. Your body being squished between his arms. A kiss planted on your forehead before he'd told you to go to sleep. You obliged, ignoring your body as it aches in arousal.

"Goodnight bee."

Commission completed! (Click here to see the commission!)

#hobart brown #hobie brown #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x you #hobie brown imagine #hobart brown x reader #hobbie brown #hobie #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x black reader #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x fem!reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk smut #spider punk smut #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #18+ fanfic #18+ content #18+ obviously #18+ post #18+ readings

[justyouraverageanonbloghere]

Dream Made Flesh

I snapped a picture of my new body, my new life, and my new muscles. This will be the day where I will be reborn into a leather loving dom.

Just imagining me conditioning this body and getting older within has a shiny tent forming in these joggers.

Let me back track a little. I got so absorbed in my victorious conquest I forgot to give context.

You see, this body belonged to my jackass neighbor in the flat across from mine. When he moved in, I couldn't stop staring at those guns and that nice ass that looked like they were made from stone. The staring turned into me pressing my face against the peephole of my door and just rubbing one out as I watched him go to his flat and enter. At first I thought it was mere infatuation but it became a fixation. Instead of wanting him to pound me into a mattress, my thoughts transitioned to me pounding twinks like me into the mattress with a body like that. My fetishes and desires became more strong and unavoidable.

Maybe it was a lust depraved god that heard me. Or a sex crazed demon. Since the last thing I knew when I was rubbing one out and orgasmed, my eyes rolled in the back of my head and I was ejected from my body. Getting my bearings I saw my body out cold with cum splattered along my scrawny frame. I was about to jump back in until I realized something.

Why don't I make my dreams made flesh?

Grinning to myself, I flew through the walls to my neighbor's flat and found him passed out on the couch with only in his underwear and a black tank top. I wasted no time and slammed myself into his chest. With him being asleep combined with the shock of an otherworldly force colliding with him, it created the perfect opportunity to immediately seize control as I collapsed onto the couch with a thud.

"Gah fuck-" I groan as my neighbor's baritone voice came out. I gasped before grinning as I look at my perfect chest heave against the black fabric. "It fuckin worked!" I laugh. I get up and walk to my own flat, not caring that I'm not wearing pants and this beast of a cock was creating a tent through my underwear. I grab my hidden spare key and enter my flat. Now that I have this sexy body, I need to adorn it properly.

I often fantasized of my neighbor having a leather fetish and so I bought a pair of leather joggers that I felt would look hot on him. I used my pure strength to tear the underwear off of me so I can go commando in the leather that was about to fit my legs. Pulling the waistband up and letting it go with a snap, I give a good squeeze to my rock hard cock and moaned with a triumphant smile on my face.

Lucky for you, this isn't where the story ends. I figured that I got lucky with my control so I planned a way to take full control of this perfect body.

After giving my dick a firm squeeze through the leather, I dug in my drawers and found my prize. A thick 10 inch dildo that would make you cry faster than a chopped onion. I grabbed the bottle of lube in my nightstand and slick it up before pulling down the waistband of my joggers and easing the cock into this virgin ass. My eyes squeezed shut with a groan as I tried to press the tip in, but thanks to these muscles I forced it in with my new body's innate strength.

With a breathy laugh I kept shoving each agonizing inch in until I was stuffed full and wide and on my toes. I sighed in euphoria as this ass squeezed involuntarily against this thick toy inside of me while I pulled the waistband back up.

As I theorized, my neighbor began waking up from within me and immediately seized control and collapsed to the floor on his hands and knees.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck." He groaned as he woke up. "Wear the fuck am I?" He wondered, looking around before his body lurched from the foreign object deep within him. "The fuck.. Is there something in my ass? Shit.." he shuddered. He tried to stand but immediately fell on bended knee. "The fuck am I wearing? I don't own pants like these- Where's my underwear?"

With a bit of effort, the neighbor struggled to stand again and groaned from that toy grazing his prostate deep inside of him. I dont know if it was pure will power or innate strength because he found my bathroom and leaned against the sink to try and get his bearings together. I used this opportunity to control his hips and start grinding his erection against the porcelain.

"Nngg..fuck.." he groaned out, assisting me in the grinding due to his body's need to climax.

That's right. Assure my victory.

It just took a little push for veins to bulge in his arms as he started humping the porcelain like a sex crazed animal. His eyes screwed shut as his ass squeezed against the toy that he ceased questioning due to how nice it felt. But of course he wouldn't admit it.

Throwing his head back, he shot ropes of cum into the joggers. However, I used this opportunity to push his soul out with his seed so my victory will be at hand. His baritone roar shifted into my voice as I moaned and stared at the ceiling with a face that showed my earth-shattering orgasm.

"Ha.. ha.. Finally..~" I laugh as I give a hard squeeze to the toy in my ass and moan. "But we're not done yet.. I want us to be one..~"

I dive my hand into my joggers and began scooping all the cum I shot that contained my neighbor's soul. I'll digest his soul to gain all the information I need to perfectly navigate his life. Upon consuming the last of his cum, I gripped my head in pain as his memories, habits, information, and skills flooded my brain. My flamboyant voice shifted back to my neighbor's as I shredded the black tank top from the power coursing through my body.

"FUCK YES! THIS BODY IS MINE NOW!" I laugh as the euphoria caused me to shoot another load. Grinning, I grabbed my virile seed and rubbed it over my tits like lotion to prove the dominion I have over this perfect body. "It's kinda funny. I dreamed of this day where I became you, but I never knew your name. But that's not an issue now, Lucas~"

To celebrate, I sauntered back to my room one last time to show my true victory.

Now you're all caught up. So make yourself useful and serve me by keeping this dick warm in your throat, yeah~?

#body possession #male body possession #male possession #male tf

[midnight-glasses]

| If the Tsukinami brothers were your beloved pet cats?

Don't ask me why I did it.

— Carla Tsukinami:

Carla is an observant and silent pet, preferring to observe the environment from a strategic vantage point while maintaining an air of sophistication in his appearance.

When it comes to food, Carla has developed a taste for premium-quality cat food. He particularly enjoys a grain-free, high-protein blend with a delicate hint of salmon, his refined palate appreciates the rich flavors and textures.

He demands attention on his own terms and enjoys keeping everyone in suspense about his true intentions, even his owners.

Carla exhibits a fascination with intricate feather wands. As the feather flutters and dances through the air, his eyes fixate on the graceful movement, and he becomes fully engrossed in an enchanting game of chase.

He have a favorite hideout in the house, a luxurious cat tower positioned by a sunny window. He spend hours lounging there, observing the world outside with an air of mystery. The tower is his sanctuary, where he can enjoy solitude and plan his next moves.

When it's time for relaxation, Carla has a peculiar affinity for basking in the warm glow of sunlight. He seeks out the sunniest spots in the house, whether it's a windowsill or a strategically positioned cat tree. Bathed in golden rays, he luxuriates in the gentle warmth, his eyes half-closed in contentment, as if he's embracing the radiance of his ancestral origins.

One distinct quirk of Carla during playtime is his fondness for controlled stalking. He has a keen eye for observing his surroundings and stealthily tracking his toys or fellow feline companions from a distance. With calculated precision, he waits for the perfect moment to strike, launching himself into a graceful pounce that reflects his ancient “predator ancestry”.

Carla:

He has a peculiar preference for toys that challenge his intellect and agility. Among his favorite toys is a small puzzle box with hidden compartments and treat dispensers. He enjoys the thrill of figuring out the mechanisms and unlocking the hidden treasures inside, displaying his astute problem-solving skills.

Carla rarely purrs, but when he does, it produces a deep and thunderous sound that resonates loudly. Whenever he is content, relaxed, or allows himself to show his emotions, his purring fills the room, sometimes startling his feline companions and his humans.

Carla takes great pride in his appearance and has a meticulous grooming routine. He spends a significant amount of time grooming his sleek fur, ensuring every strand is perfectly in place. His meticulousness extends to his feline companions as well; he is often seen gently grooming their fur to maintain its pristine appearance.

— Shin Tsukinami:

Shin is a fiery and energetic ginger cat with bright yellow eyes.

He is always full of energy, constantly on the move and ready to pounce on anything that catches his interest.

Shin is the troublemaker of the duo, always getting into fights with Carla or causing chaos around the house. However, beneath his unruly nature, he has a gentle side.

He often seeks affection and attention from his humans, even if it's done in a somewhat rough manner: he enjoys giving “love bites” as a sign of affection.

Shin is an expert at finding small hideouts and secret spots throughout the house. Whether it's a cozy cardboard box tucked away in a corner or a high perch on the bookshelf, he always discovers a new place to explore. His erratic spirit leads him to unexpected places, and his humans often find him in the most peculiar locations.

When it's time to unwind, Shin seeks out cozy hideaways and snug spaces. He enjoys curling up in a soft, fleece-lined cat bed or burrowing into a pile of warm blankets. His contented purrs resonate gently as he drifts into a peaceful slumber.

Shin also has a curious fascination with shiny objects. Whether it's a candy wrapper or a reflection bouncing off a mirrored surface, his eyes fixate on the gleaming allure. He playfully bats at the glimmers, enchanted by their elusive nature, as if he's on a quest to capture the essence of light itself.

He has a obsession with interactive toys that mimic the movements of small prey. His favorite toy is a battery-powered mouse that scampers and darts unpredictably across the floor. His eyes light up with excitement as he chases after it.

Shin has a particular fondness for treats with a crunchy texture. He relishes in the sound and sensation of each bite, his tail swishing back and forth with delight. His humans often find him pawing at his food bowl, trying to coax out the last few pieces of kibble, never wanting the tasty experience to end.

He has a wide repertoire of vocalizations, using meows and chirps to communicate his desires and emotions. He has a unique way of expressing himself through his vocalizations, whether it's a demanding meow for attention or a contented purr when receiving affection. His expressive meows make it easier for his humans to understand his needs and desires, unlike his older brother, Carla.

All my written content is original, however, I do not claim ownership of the characters depicted. ©2023-Present.

#shin headcanons #diabolik lovers shin #shin tsukinami #diabolik lovers headcanons #midnightglasses headcanons #diabolik lovers #midnightglasses #diahell #carla tsukinami #tsukinami carla #carla headcanons #diabolik lovers carla #tsukinami brothers headcanon #tsukinami brothers headcanons #shin tsuknami #tsukinami shin #tsukinami brothers

[waterwindow]

i know theyre different its just difficult to word what i mean sorry. did you go to art school?

Yes I did :0 i hated every second of it tho and can't in good conscious really recommend. I did learn a lot about looking at colors and really seeing what color they are and the color wheel and shades n all that fun stuff but there's lots of resources online to teach you all that if you feel like reading.

Most of the stuff they taught me in school was to look at things in real life and try to paint with photorealism and i kinda hated it ngl. But it did help me learn to look at ordinary objects or events that i find interesting and try to replicate them in my art.

Like.... I love Clutter and Nature and Odd shiny things and Liquids and Big fat clouds, so I look at pictures of those things and try to draw them.

i look at pictures like this and i try to think about why i love them so much and try to capture them as best i can and after I did that for long enough I was able to incorporate the experience into my own artwork.

And in the last couple years i've been extremely fixated on tf2 (obviously) and rocket jumping (obviously) and so I've been looking at the maps. like 99% of my screenshots are just interesting maps that I could stare at for ages.

So I guess my real advice would be if you want to paint beautiful things, look at beautiful things? It sounds kind of lame but I mean REALLY look at them. Thats the most my art school experience ever taught me tbh, what it boils down to. You can learn the color wheel and the rules of anatomy and all that stuff is great but looking and studying and figuring WHY things look good is like 90% of the battle

#this is an essay im so sorry sdgsdfsd i feel bad I hope this is more useful than my lame answers so far

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

miss raven 🐦‍⬛ you like shiny things right?? what are your thoughts on rollo’s ring. didn’t you call it chunky before

Many times, yes— I find it super ugly, chunky (as in, it’s a weird shape and takes up a lot of space) and hard to coordinate with a look, but it works fine on Rollo.

There are a few Raven-Rollo interactions I've received; these will be differentiated from the usual Rollo at the Writing Desk interactions by a different phrase in the header. "Will today be the day?" is a reference to the opening scene in Hunchback of Notre Dame; Quasimodo asks a bird (nesting in a gargoyle's mouth) if they're ready to fly yet.

Will Today be the Day?

“… You’ve been staring at my hand for quite some time now.” Rollo’s observation was abrupt, an accusation with a sharp point. He casted Raven a suspicious look as they walked side-by-side. “Crowley-dono is your guardian, is he not? I would have thought him to instill better manners in his kin.”

She leapt, frazzled by the truth he bore. “Y-You’re absolutely right! My apologies… I will avert my gaze.”

Rollo scoffed. “What is it that you are planning, hmm? Do you intend to make off with my possessions the instant I lower my guard? Perhaps you’ve picked up a habit for pilfering from Ruggie-kun. It wouldn’t surprise me—you Night Raven College mages are all the same.”

“No, it’s not like that!!” Raven shyly brought her index fingers together, her eyes cutting away from him. She suddenly found the sidewalk to be of great interest. “It’s, erm…”

“Don’t mumble. Spit it out already.”

“Corvids—ravens, crows—have a penchant for shiny objects. I can’t help that my eyes are drawn to them. It’s in my nature.

“Hmph.” Rollo made to cover the crimson gemstone that crowned his finger. “You have surprisingly juvenile interests. At the very least, it appears to be harmless so long as you control your desire to acquire those trinkets for yourself.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t have such a desire in the first place! Besides, things that sparkle look their happiest when they're with their true owners."

"... Did I hear that correctly? Things that sparkle look happy?"

"Not literally, of course. I took creative liberty with the phrasing." Raven cocked her head to one side. "But don't you think when a piece of jewelry catches a stray beam of sunlight, it looks like the jewel is winking at you? That's what I mean when I say they look happy with their owners."

"Not ever," Rollo replied stiffly, "and your comparison doesn't work. Ownership means nothing; a jewel would shine all the same regardless of who wears it."

"Now you're just sucking all of the romantic lyricism out of it."

"It didn't need that to begin with."

He turned away—as if that were the end of the conversation—and elicited an excited squeak from Raven.

"Oh...!" She fixated on the gleam of gold and scarlet that peaked through a crevice between his fingers.

The ring smiled at me.

Her heart leapt, and she smiled back at it. (Rollo scowled, his displeasure obvious.)

“If you don’t mind, may I see it up-close?” Raven asked. “Just this once. I promise I won’t bother you again about it after.”

“… You may, but you’d better keep your promise. I don’t want to hear another word about this later.”

With that, Rollo offered his ringed hand to her. His fingers splayed out to allow for a good glimpse of his accessory. Raven bowed her head—a sign of thanks—and gingerly took his hand in her gloved ones.

She had expected him to be frigid—his fingers were so long and bony. But no, he was flesh too. Warm and pliant.

Of course he is. I don’t know why I was thinking of anything less. He is only human too.

Raven slowly guided his hand, watching the way the sunlight gathered on the ring’s facets at different angles. The band and prongs were golden, and the center stone was a gorgeous red.

Ruby? Garnet? Or something else entirely…? Cut into a lozenge shape—diamond-like prism, with additional flat faces she could see herself in.

“Oooh, pretty,” she cooed, sounding slightly dazed.

As Raven did this, Rollo inspected her.

She was a small thing, no taller than his shoulders. Dressed in black (like a certain lizard he loathed), perhaps she would have registered as more of an enigma had there not also been a sort of… fluffiness to her, thanks to her voluminous feather shawl and skirt. The top hat skewed at a jaunty angle really did make her look like a childish miniature of NRC’s headmaster.

He honed in on her ears. They were pointed, certainly not the shape of a typical human’s. She had mentioned her tendencies as a corvid earlier, implying animal heritage—but the ears suggested fae, not beastman.

He took in the rest of her face. With her eyes cast downward like this, her thick lashes shaded honeyed amber colored irises. Sun dappled raven hair, highlighting the small, mysterious smile at her lips as she regarded his ring.

Such a simple-minded girl, he sneered. It’s no wonder she’s so easily manipulated by mages and sympathizes with their cause.

A creature captured and tames to be in service to vile villains—Rollo would be lying if he said some part of him vaguely felt pity for her circumstances. Perhaps if she was removed from NRC and given the proper guidance and instruction, she could see reason. (… despite how annoying he found her to be.)

No, she’s too far gone to be rescued, he argues with himself. Draconia has already sunken his claws into her feeble mind.

What a shame, the voice in the back of his head simpered. She could have been saved from sin. We could have understood one another.

Her eyes suddenly fliicked up. “… Rollo-senpai? I think I’m done. Thank you for letting me look.

He quietly gasped—he had been caught staring. Cheeks heating, Rollo hastily pulled his hand away. His shame was masked with a stern frown.

“… That is enough. Let us never speak of this again.”

“Hehe, it’s the very least I could do for you.” She grinned in an irksome manner, the snaggle-toothed smile reminding him of the less savory smirks sent his way by other NRC students. “It can be our little secret.”

"I do not wish to share any sort of a secret with you."

Raven raised her brows. "Were you not the one who requested that we no longer bring up this incident? So it's our little secret, whether you want it to be or not~"

"Which I don't," he clarified stubbornly.

That was the truth--wasn't it?

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #Rollo Flamme #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk

[bambirex]

Keep My Heart In Your Gold

Pairing: Geraskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia

Additional tags: friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, sad geralt of rivia, supportive jaskier, trust, grief/mourning, renfri's brooch, inspired by season 3 episode 8

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,579 words

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Geralt always carries a brooch around with him. Jaskier wants to know why.

Author's notes: I can't stop thinking about Jaskier knowing what the brooch meant to Geralt, like, the implications of that??? It must have taken a huge amount of trust on Geralt's side to tell Jaskier this and since i'm insane about this whole thing, i decided I wanna write how that conversation went.

Read on Ao3

*

The brooch always seemed out of place for Jaskier. It wasn't exactly the type of accessory that you would imagine a dark, brooding witcher carrying around: pure gold and shiny gemstones, and delicate carvings that almost made the brooch look like it had an eternal smile.

Yet, Geralt always had it with him, strapped to the hilt of his sword. The sight of it was a little comical, here and there, to have something so pretty stick out during an intense fight with a gruesome monster. If the brooch got covered in blood, Geralt would wash it off with such gentle, caring movements, as if it wasn't just a simple object, but something more important.

But Geralt wasn't such a sentimental kind, was he?

Jaskier has been traveling with Geralt for a couple of months when he first brought up the brooch.

"It's pretty," he pointed out one evening as they sat by the fire, the orange glow of the flames reflecting off the gold.

Geralt followed Jaskier's eyes that fixated on the brooch. He let out a quiet grunt and returned to tending to the fire. Jaskier waited for a few moments. When no more reaction came from Geralt, he continued.

"How long have you had this?"

"A while," was all Geralt said. He didn't even look at Jaskier. Usually, Geralt wore a closed-off, strict expression. At first, Jaskier thought it was only reserved for him and his somewhat annoying shenanigans, but he's quickly learnt that it was just simply Geralt's face. There was something else to it now, though, a deeper, darker emotion, like bitterness.

"Was it a gift?" Jaskier pressed further as he scooted closer to Geralt. "I mean, it was, wasn't it? It looks expensive. Almost like it came from someone royalty."

Something flashed in Geralt’s eyes as he looked at him - like a fleeting moment of anguish. Whatever it was, it made Jaskier's chest tighten.

"How do you know that?"

"I hang around royalty a lot, Geralt, I'm a bard," Jaskier reminded him. "I know what kind of jewelry they wear, so..."

It wouldn't make much sense for Geralt, who famously despised royalty, to accept a gift from someone like that, let alone keep it. Whoever gave it to him, they must have been special.

"It's time for you to sleep," Geralt told him, not bothering with a reply to the actual question. Jaskier snorted.

"You're putting me to bed like a child?"

"You are a child," Geralt replied with a small grin. That made Jaskier sputter, but he did take his place on his bedroll all the same.

The brooch was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.

--

All of Jaskier's attempts at trying to ask about the brooch turned out to be futile. Geralt either completely ignored Jaskier until he gave up, or he changed the subject right away. If Jaskier was a little too pushy, Geralt would even snap at him and tell him to stop being so nosy.

Jaskier wondered why Geralt was so apprehensive about telling him. As the years have gone by, their bond deepened, and the witcher opened up to him more and more. He trusted Jaskier, that much was obvious: he left him alone with Roach without hesitation, told him about Kaer Morhen and the witcher trials, entrusted him with picking out the right potions for him after a fight. He let him give him baths, for Melitele's sake, it was obvious that Geralt knew Jaskier was someone he could rely on.

And yet, he refused to tell him about the brooch, over and over again.

"It's from someone important," Jaskier noted one day. It wasn't a question, and Geralt realized that, too, because he just stared down at his boots, the muscles in his jaw twitching, like he wanted to reply, just didn't know how.

Jaskier waited for him to open up at last, to let him in - to share something so clearly important with him. He looked at Geralt, trying to silently communicate to him that it was alright, that he could always talk to him about whatever heavy burden plagued him about that brooch.

"Just drop it, Jaskier," Geralt said eventually. The sheer pain in his voice was enough for Jaskier to reach out and give his hand a squeeze. He didn't press it any further. Geralt seemed eternally grateful for it as he laced their fingers together.

--

Jaskier stopped asking about the brooch after that. He relied on his vivid imagination instead as he walked up the hill after Geralt, looking at the gold shining on his sword.

Who could have given it to him? Was it a gift, a sign of gratefulness after Geralt has gotten ridden of a monster? Maybe, but he wouldn't have held it so dear, then. This was something deeper.

An old friend? Someone Geralt greatly cared about, someone who cared for him too - someone that Jaskier hoped to be like, one day, if Geralt was ready for it.

Family? His mother? The only thing that was left of her? Another witcher at Kaer Morhen? A token of love?

Love... maybe it was from someone really close to Geralt's heart. Someone who meant the world to him. Where did they go? Did they leave? Did they die? Did looking at their brooch cause Geralt great pain, a reminder of what he has lost, or did it fill him with joy, giving him the strength to move forward?

"I wish you could talk," Jaskier chuckled softly when he cleaned Geralt's sword and faced the brooch. It was already a big step that Geralt let him clean it, he hasn't before. It felt almost as if day by day, Jaskier got closer to Geralt's heart. Maybe one day he would learn the truth behind the brooch, and he would be fully let inside. Until then, he appreciated what he could get.

"I'd love to know your story. I bet it's a great one, isn't it? Good song material."

The sunlight glinted on the surface of the brooch, almost like it answered him. Jaskier laughed at the silly thought.

"Also, I want Geralt to fully trust me, you know?" Jaskier continued as he scrubbed at a nasty stain on the edge of the sword. "And, I don't know. I feel like you mean something to him. And it would mean a lot to me if he shared you with me."

The way the light reflected in one of the gemstones made Jaskier laugh again, because it looked like the brooch winked at him.

--

Jaskier was about to fall asleep when Geralt slipped out of bed. Jaskier didn’t question it; he knew Geralt often had trouble sleeping as his witcher senses kicked in during the night, picking up every single quiet noise and tiny movement. He also knew about the nightmares, the horrific images of having to take lives, and seeing his witcher brothers die haunting his mind. Jaskier didn’t think a big deal of Geralt leaving their bed, so he pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes again.

A couple of moments after Geralt got up, the bed dipped again. Jaskier cracked one eye open, trying to get used to the darkness in the room. Geralt was only somewhat illuminated by the moonlight, but Jaskier could still tell he was looking right at him.

"You're awake, then," Geralt stated. Jaskier rubbed his eyes as he sat up against the headboard.

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

Geralt looked down. Jaskier noticed he was holding something in his hand, but couldn't tell what it was in the dim light.

"You used to ask about it a lot," Geralt started. His voice was tired, pained. It woke Jaskier fully at once. Geralt didn't even need to tell him what he meant, because Jaskier immediately knew he was talking about the brooch.

"You've stopped."

"Because it's clear you don't want to tell me," Jaskier replied. "And that's okay, Geralt. I don't want to force you."

"I want to tell you," Geralt said. The moonlight glinted off the brooch as he turned it around in his hand. "I want you to know."

Jaskier hugged his knees to his chest. He tried to appear patient, but his heartbeat picked up as he realized that what he has been waiting for years - for Geralt to truly let him in, to share such an important piece of his soul with him - was finally happening.

"This brooch," Geralt said, looking down on the gold in his hand, "belonged to a girl named Renfri. She was a princess who had to leave her home because she was born under a Black Sun. She was prophesied to be dangerous. But she was just... a girl who was hurt. Too many times."

He looked at Jaskier as he continued. "She was a skilled warrior. Very strong and brave. Any man could have envied her strength. She was also witty and smart. I think you would've liked her."

"You think so?"

"Yes. I often wish you two had a chance to meet."

Something about the way he said it made Jaskier's heart flutter inside his chest.

"Renfri was special. In a way, she really was dangerous. When nothing good ever happens to you, when you keep hurting... it's hard not to become the very thing everyone was told you were going to be. But that did not make her a bad person. She had a right to be angry."

He reached out and took Jaskier's hand. Jaskier drew in a sharp breath when Geralt placed the brooch in his palm, laying his own over it until he covered Jaskier's hand with his own. The brooch was cold, but Geralt's skin was warm against his own.

"She was more than her anger," Geralt continued, looking down on their joined hands. "She also had a right to prove she was more than that. But she didn't have enough time."

"You loved her," Jaskier whispered. Geralt nodded.

"I did. And I killed her."

Jaskier only heard his own heartbeat in the dead silence of the room. Geralt sighed deeply.

"It was always going to end that way," he said, "you truly cannot trick destiny. I was told to choose between the lesser of two evils. I had to kill Renfri to stop her from unleashing chaos on the Continent."

Jaskier's throat felt dry and constricted around his words. "I'm sorry, Geralt."

"This is a reminder for me," Geralt continued. He ran his hand over the brooch, then Jaskier's palm. "That I can't escape the past the same way I can't escape the future. Renfri told me that the girl in the woods will always be with me."

"And who's that?"

"I have a hunch. The destiny I was trying to avoid, again. The one you also warned me about not trying to forget."

In the pale moonlight, Geralt's eyes shone bright as he looked into Jaskier's eyes.

"Renfri was the first human I truly let close to me," he told Jaskier, his voice softer than Jaskier has ever heard it before, "and somehow, although you are very different, I see her in you, sometimes. A constant reminder of my own humanity. And..."

He caressed his thumb over Jaskier's palm again, gently. "I trust you, Jaskier. You bring something good out of me. The same way she could have, but destiny stepped in. But with you... I think things are going to be alright."

Jaskier's eyes welled with tears as his heart nearly burst with an emotion so strong, he couldn't resist that eternal pull anymore - the one that made him follow a grumpy witcher at Posada, the one that never let him leave his side, the one that loved Geralt so dearly, always hoping, always longing to be the one Geralt trusted the most. The one Geralt loved as much as he loved that mysterious girl from the past, who left a part of her heart behind in that brooch.

In that moment, it just felt right when he leaned forward and kissed Geralt. Geralt's arm snaked around his waist and pulled him close until he was on his lap. He grabbed onto Jaskier's shirt like an anchor, holding him close almost desperately. Jaskier wiped Geralt's tears off - or were they his own, he didn't know anymore - as he continued kissing him, silently telling him that he would never leave.

"Thank you," Jaskier whispered as he pulled back to rest his forehead against Geralt's. Their hands were still intertwined over the brooch.

--

The soldier wouldn't let them pass, and they couldn't waste any more time. They needed to find Ciri as soon as possible. Jaskier could have screamed in frustration.

"Wait," Geralt said, reaching into his pocket. Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him. They didn't have any more money on them, so they had nothing to offer as a fee.

"What about this?"

Jaskier gasped when he noticed Geralt holding Renfri's brooch.

"No, Geralt," he whispered, "not that."

Geralt sent him a small smile, and touched his lower back fleetingly. A small gesture of comfort, as if he wasn't the one who was about to pay a douchebag Nilfgaardian soldier with one of the most important objects in his possession. Jaskier tried to reason with him one more time, but Geralt handed the brooch over anyways. Seeing that bastard take it made Jaskier's stomach churn, and his heart clench uncomfortably.

He didn't have time to dwell on it while he had to assist Geralt's fight with the soldiers, but it was the first thing he asked him once they got their horses ready for the road.

"Why?"

Geralt sent him a questioning look. "What do you mean why?"

"The brooch," Jaskier sighed, "Geralt, it was important."

Geralt smiled as he gently tucked Jaskier's hair behind his ear. He cupped his cheek soothingly.

"It's time to let go of the past," he said softly, "and focus on the future."

"But... there must have been another way, Geralt! I could have offered him a blowjob, although it wouldn't have been one given willingly."

"I would have chopped his head off before I let him touch you," Geralt scoffed. He smiled again when Jaskier leaned into his touch. "It had to be done. For Ciri, for all of us. It did mean a lot to me. But it's time to let it go - to let Renfri go."

He kissed Jaskier on the lips before he planted another kiss on his forehead. "Come on. Let's find Ciri."

Jaskier nodded with a smile. Geralt's heart worked in mysterious ways, but Jaskier was slowly learning its intricacies. He knew he was right: cherishing the past was important, but staying stuck in it didn't help anyone. He saw the way Geralt smiled at him before he grabbed the reins of his horse: he looked relieved, like a huge weight has just left his shoulders. The same way he trusted Jaskier with the truth all those years ago, now he trusted him to understand his decision. And Jaskier did.

He looked back at the camp one last time, saying goodbye to the brooch and its history in his mind - and to the girl whom, while he did not know, also meant a lot to him, because she was important to Geralt.

And now it was time to take his beloved witcher's hand and face the future, so they could rescue someone who also meant a lot to both of them.

#geraskier #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfiction #geralt x jaskier

[provincial-girl]

So, when I get really into a new show, I like to go ahead and look up the meaning of character’s names. Often there’s not much of interest there, or the name doesn’t say a whole lot. Then, every once in a while, I come across some neat stuff, which is what happens when you look into the meaning of names for A League of Their Own characters, particularly Greta and Meg's names. 

The first very first thing I found when I started down this specific rabbit hole is that Greta means “pearl,” which honestly makes so much sense for her. A pearl is this pretty, shiny object,  but it's created when a grain of sand or food particle gets stuck inside the shell of the oyster. To protect itself from the irritant, the oyster secretes a substance that will harden around the grain of sand and eventually become the pearl. Greta is exactly like the pearl in a lot of ways, because she’s shiny and charming, but her outward appearance is very much a product of all the things she does to protect herself from getting hurt. She has this secret that she knows is dangerous, and she constantly cloaks herself in this protective layer, putting on a performance to keep herself and those around her safe. The product is pretty to look at, made to be looked at even, but it is a hard outer shell meant to protect Greta from suffering any more pain than she already has.   

In an interesting twist, Meg means “pearl” as well, because both names appear to have roots that can be linked back to the name Margaret. We know so little about Meg, Carson’s sister,  that any attempt to draw parallels requires a certain amount of speculation. If the parallel is meant to be intentional though, it would suggest that there’s something similar about Carson’s sister and Greta that we don’t explicitly see.

 One possibility is that perhaps Meg’s fixation on behaving acceptably in the eyes of those around her comes from the fact that she thinks it will offer a layer of protection from censure. That’s why she marries and has kids right away, and bakes the pie that Carson promises the woman at the train station to save face (Greta’s end of the phone conversation with Meg suggests as much). That behavior and her insistence that Carson conform is a defense mechanism, a hurtful, damaging, deeply misguided attempt to protect herself and her family from the same sort of pain that comes from their mother failing to conform when she leaves them behind. She might actually be more concerned about protecting the family than herself, as she specifically mentions their father having to answer questions, as he probably had to when their mother left. She even says she wishes their mother was around so Carson wasn’t her problem, which suggests that Meg wouldn’t be reacting in this way if their mother had never left. Is Meg simply suggesting that their mother might’ve made this call instead? Maybe, but the fact remains that Meg behaves in the way she does, calls and yells at Carson for running away because their mother isn’t around, and she feels it’s her duty to do it to maintain an acceptable image of their family. It's a misguided attempt to protect them from censure and the same pain that comes from their mother leaving. 

The natural reaction may be to say, well, Greta and Meg are nothing alike, because there are a lot of ways in which they’re not alike at all. To start, the repercussions of not performing properly are so much higher for Greta than Meg. Meg doesn’t face the threat of physical harm that Greta does, and the censure she faces is much less intense than what Greta faces if she’s discovered. The fact, however, remains that a lot of their behavior is a reaction to societal pressures to conform and an instinct to avoid pain. None of this is to say that Meg’s behavior is remotely acceptable, or that Meg could ever be as compelling and well-rounded as Greta. What we know of Meg isn’t even a little bit flattering, but I don’t think Meg has to be likable to be understood. This potential parallel  simply gives a bit more depth to Meg, makes the story as a whole a bit more interesting. It suggests that every female character, even the ones as minor and unlikeable as Meg, face some kind of societal pressure to perform in a certain way or face repercussions, and their behavior and treatment of others is often shaped by that pressure.

Again, this all involves a certain amount of conjecture, and may very well be a coincidence, but ALOTO is such a thoughtful show that I just can’t help thinking there’s a real possibility this was an entirely intentional choice. Greta’s name meaning and the Meg parallel were the most compelling ones I found, but there’s also a whole bunch of other name meanings that I’ve found that are actually perfect for the characters, which suggests to me that at least some of these character names are very intentionally chosen for their meaning, and I could definitely see more meta potential in that list. Whether the name choices are fully intentional or not, I enjoy thinking about the way that small details contribute to a story’s larger, overarching themes, and love that this show continues to offer up opportunities to do just that. 

#ALOTO #a league of their own #Greta Gill #meta #I hesitate to post this because I don't want anyone ever thinking I'm a Meg stan #I am emphatically NOT a Meg fan #I just enjoy finding connections and seeing how they might fit within the larger narrative #I'd also be open to other folks who might have some other theories on what the parallel might signify #talk meta to me #my stuff #this show has me in an absolute chokehold in the best possible way

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Sixty One

Masterlist

Lucille: *isn't so sure about the routine part either. She's so used to just jumping into things without a second thought* I'll... I'll try.

Gardio: *kisses his daughter's forehead* You can do it. I believe in you.

Lucille: *questions how he's not giving her high doses of radiation every time he does something like that. Maybe she's part ghoul...?*

Gardio: I'll head down stairs and heat up my food. I'll be back up. *to Ma* Would you like me to heat up yours as well?

Ma: “Ah, that would be lovely, thank you. And you can tell Joyce that she may start baking dessert, the cookie dough is already prepped and rolled into balls. No doubt that the girl is drooling at the mouth just thinking about it.” (Remembers that Nick had just previously snapped at his daughter, maybe he needs a rest. Although, that may be difficult considering what just transpired) “I’ll go check up on them downstairs just to be sure everything is alright in the meantime, excuse me for a moment.” (Leaves to do just that)

Teshteal: *smiles and goes back to devouring his meal* Joyce: (Smiles back at her boyfriend and continues to eat as well, really trying to hold back on inhaling he macaroni and cheese)

Nick: *also saw it but isn't saying anything. He's too tired of this nonsense- as long as she's not trying to die*

Jasmine: (Fixated on the carousel with wide sparkly eyes. She’s a kitten, anything that moves and is shiny captures her attention. Anything that she deems cute as well, which is why she was staring at the rubber ducky earlier as it bobbled up and down in the water)

Donovan: (Knew this trick from their prewar days. He, Jie, and Lilac had discovered this and would purposely try to catch Jasmines attention with different objects then giggle when her eyes would go cutely wide with interest and delight)

Ma: (Walks into the guest room, pausing when she sees Donovan is up) “Donny…? Why are you here and not resting, love?”

Donovan: (Points to the bed with a sad smile, not answering the question) “Rosie likes the carousel music box, I knew she would...”

Ma: (Concerned for her son but she turns to Nick without pressing further) “How you doing there, Dad?”

Nick: I'll be honest, more than a bit worn out. *rubs the back of his head* Could use a break.

Lucille: *sits there staring at her plate. She feels so unsure... unstable. It's frightening*

Gardio: *comes downstairs. After heating his food* Ma says you can bake the cookies, now. *flashes them a smile* Teshteal: *pumps his arms into the air* Hurray! *immediately puts them on* Joyce: (Brightens up to match the energy of the sun itself) “Wonderful!” (Rushes to grab a baking tray and a silicone baking mat while Teshteal gets the dough from the fridge)

Ma: (Nods her head with a heavy sigh) “And you no doubt deserve one." (Looks to the girl hidden under the blankets) "I am willing to watch Rosalinda for you if you wish to take one.”

Jasmine: (Winds up the music box on her own when it runs out, still completely mesmerized by it as she sucks on her thumb. She doesn't appear to hear or understand what the adults are saying, otherwise she'd protest the idea of Nick leaving her)

Donovan: (Would stay as well just in case Jazzy goes ballistic again and is too much for one person to handle)

Nick: That would be swell. *slight smile but then goes back to a serious expression as he stands* Not now, but there's something I'm going to have to have you do to help keep her from losing control. *writing down something on a notepad then shows them. "Read silently- Assign you two as her 'commanders' so the words are effective on her coming from you. I trust you not to abuse this power."*

Lucille: *debating on whether or not she deserves dessert.*

Teshteal: *puts the little cookie dough on the tray in neat and spacious rows delicately* Joyce: (Making sure the oven is the right temperature and that the timer is set so the cookies don't burn)

Ma: (Goes wide eyed when she reads the note, flashing Nick an, “are you sure” look)

Donovan: (Neither him or Ma would abuse the power, he himself might not even have the guts to use it. He saw how it controls Jas, that it renders her useless. He’ll only use it if it’s a 100% case of a life or death situation, otherwise he’s taking the hard way of talking her through it. Using the Commands may control her actions, but not how she truly feels inside)

Jasmine: (Would normally have something to say about that, she hates the idea of having more handlers who can control her every move. The very idea would make her feel more trapped, more like a monster who needs to be put in chains. But it is for her own safety right now, and Nick can revoke Ma and Donny's handler status later)

Nick: *nods and writes* "Only use it if she's completely lost to the programming. Best to stick to Reset and Zero Day- those cause the least amount of harm from what I've seen... so far."

Teshteal: *slides the cookies in with a little hum, swishing his tail side to side happily* Gardio: *eating his food, watching the two bake cookies* Joyce: (Pops an extra chocolate chip in her mouth after setting the timer for about 15 minutes, grinning as she hold out another piece of chocolate to Teshteals lips for him to try)

Ma: (Hesitantly nods, hoping that it doesn’t come down to Donny or her having to use it on the poor girl)

Donovan: (Still has so many questions to ask, so many that he isn’t even sure where he would start when the time is appropriate. Probably he would start off with what exactly those vault people did to Jas, he already has an idea and it makes him shudder to think further)

 Jasmine: (Winds up her music box when it stops playing, running her fingers over the snowy white horses as they spin with the lullaby. She wishes she could ride a real carousel again, or at least see one...)

Nick: Thank you. This means a lot. *nods and walks out of the room*

Teshteal: *gets all blushy again at this gesture and takes a quick bite, being careful to grab the chocolate and not her fingers. He delights in the the taste- he hasn't had good chocolate in a while* Joyce: (Giggles cutely at this, putting her arms around Teshteals shoulders and stealing a kiss after he comes in close to take the chocolate chip) Teshteal: *squeaks in surprise but leans into the embrace* You pulled a fast one! *smirks cheesily up at her* Joyce: (Gives him a smile sweeter than the chocolate, pulling him in close) Teshteal: *smiles back. Pecks her lips cheerily then strokes her hair while he looks on at her in admiration*

Jasmine: (Blinks at the music box, almost immediately sensing that Nick is no longer sitting besides her. Her eyes widen, losing all interest in her music box)

Ma: (Frowns a bit. It would’ve been better if Nick had told his daughter he was leaving, even if she started crying it was better than her looking up and seeing that he had left without telling her. She slowly approaches the bed, noticing that the girl had shoved off her dress and kicked it to the corner) “Rosie honey….”

Jasmine: (Listens for a few seconds, then pulls back the blanket so she can peep out and confirm that Daddy has indeed disappeared from the room. Her big doe-eyes well up with more tears as she sits up with the blanket around her)

Donovan: (Hadn’t moved from his spot in the chair. He takes the music box so Jas doesn’t drop it while she moves and sets it on the ground)

Ma: (Sits on the edge of the bed, cupping the girls cheek with one hand while the other rubs her shoulder) “He’ll be back, Rosa-Marie. He hasn’t left you here alone, I promise.”

Nick: *simply sighs at the realization of his own failing. Course saying he was leaving might have made her cling to him. He can't be sure.

Jasmine: (Starts sobbing as the fear grapples her, pulling up her knees to her chin so she can hide her face in them. Crying is not enough to vent her emotions however, she lost her ability to regulate that properly long ago. So by default she goes for her wounds again, trying to scratch them)

Ma: (Gently knocks the girls hands away from her bandages, taking them in hers. It would be best to send Jas to sleep for the night, the poor girl is still fighting off her fever and feels even warmer since she was under the blanket and has been working herself up with the fighting and crying)

Donovan: (Stands and starts collecting anything sharp or anything that could be made into something sharp away so Jas can hurt herself with it. He then locks the windows so she can’t escape again, feeling like he’s baby proofing the room for a small child)

Jasmine: (Desperately reaches for the door, quietly crying out for her father to return)

Ma: “Shhh, bebita bonita- estás bien…..” (Carefully pulls Jazzy in her lap, soothing her by patting her back) “Estamos bien…..”

Nick: *Contemplates going back but decides against it. She needs to get used to him not being around. She's not a toddler*

Jasmine: (Squirms to get away from Ma as she whines at what the motherly had said) “Nooooo!!!”

Ma: (Tightens her hold on the teen) “Hm?”

Jasmine: (Brokenly) “None of that…. Please!”

Ma: (Looks a bit hurt again but she nods at the girls request)

Jasmine: (Keeps fighting to break free)

Donovan: (Glances at Jas, knowing full well she would never act like this on a normal day) “Age regression…?”

Ma: (Solemnly nods) “That’s what I was thinking… Its not much of surprise, honestly. It’s one coping mechanism, better than her harming herself.”

Donovan: “And she doesn’t like Spanish…..”

Ma: (Somber hum) “Apparently not….” (Going through a checklist of what mental disorders Jazzy has probably developed and the habits that come from it)

Nick: *Hell. Maybe they can help her snap out of this state she's in. He's not going to do her any good at this rate. Currently just pacing outside smoking and mulling things over. He knows he ought to quit but he's pretty stressed at the whole ordeal*

Gardio: *finishes his meal. He took his time. He goes back to Lucille* Lucille: *staring out the window from her bed. Watching the sea and the farm. She sighs sadly. Wonders briefly what it would be like to be swallowed by the ocean. Probably not as romantic as she briefly imagines* Gardio: Hey, sweetie. How are you doing Lucille: Thinking about the ocean. Gardio: *nods solemnly* It isn't as peaceful as you think. Lucille: I know. It's pretty deceptive. Gardio: *hums to himself* Thinking of keeping you company tonight. Lucille: Dad... no. There's no other bed. Gardio: I'll sleep on the ground on a bunch of blankets. Lucille: You'll be bone tired come morning. Plus you're a Glowing One- I'm surprised I'm not suffering from radiation sickness, yet. Gardio: Despite my glow, the radiation I passively give off isn't enough to hurt a person badly. However, you might be adapting to the wasteland, too. *shrugs* Lucille: ...I still don't think it's a good idea, especially with my ankle.

Jasmine: (Starts kicking her feet even harder as she squirms, shrieking in frustration that she can’t move much)

Ma: (Tries not to sigh out loud in exasperation, she doesn’t want Jas to think she’s being a burden. She just wants the girl to feel safe and sleep) “Why did you take off your dress, sweetheart? Is it because you’re feeling too hot? Would you like me to fetch you a lighter nightgown?”

Jasmine: (Just shrieks and cries out some more, trying to pry Ma’s arms off from around her waist)

Ma: (Patiently, tightening her hold so Jas doesn’t fall off the bed but not too much that it hurts) “I told you Rosie, your father will be back soon. I can promise you that. But for now you’ll have to wait here for him.” (To Donovan) “Hand me the cloth and water from the dresser?”

Donovan: (Does just that)

Ma: (Starts cleaning the blood off the teens hands and face, humming while she does so. She might try to clip Jas’s nails as well to keep her from further scratching herself, although she’s too erratic right now)

Gardio: Well I could always get Nick to stay the night. Lucille: *scoffs* He doesn't have the time. I'm sure he'd shut down the agency just to take care of his infant teenage daughter. Gardio: Don't judge. She's probably been through a lot more than you know. Lucille: *turns her head back towards the window with a huff. Everyone apologizes for Jas's actions except Jas herself. Not once has the teen said she's sorry for any of the pain she's caused her supposed sister. She wouldn't even stand up for her when Donovan was interrogating her back at the orphanage* Gardio: Lucille, be reasonable. Lucille: I am... I'm just tired of everything to do with Jasmine right now... even Nick. *hurts to say that but she is. Even with him bringing her back to her senses, before, she still feels distant from the old synth*

Teshteal: *cups Joyce’s cheek and takes the opportunity to kiss her deeply, tongue and all* Joyce: (Squeals with delight, opening her mouth slightly as she holds her boyfriend tightly, ruffling his hair with her fingers)

Ma: (Swaddles the girl up in a blanket so it’s harder for her to fight and possibly hurt herself. She makes sure to leave a little wiggle room so she doesn’t feel completely trapped)

Jasmine: (Weakly, tears streaming down her cheeks as her muscles relax) “N-no!”

Ma: (Starts rocking back and forth on the bed, patting the girls lower back) “Hush now, Rosie. You must be exhausted.”

Jasmine: (Brokenly) “Daddy! No….” (Since her mind is so fractured, she can’t grasp the fact that he’s not abandoning her. All she knows is that he snapped at her angrily then disappeared from the room)

Ma: (Patiently once more, wiping some hair off her face) “He’ll be back soon, dear. For now, you can rest.”

Donovan: (Sits there with his head in his hands, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that the baby had a baby. Not that Jas is an actual infant, but she’s so young and small… That plus the fact that it was mostly likely from the cause of a cruel case of rape just rubs more salt in the wounds. He’s still debating when he’ll give this information to Ma, not that it’ll ever be easy but now still doesn’t feel like the right time)

Nick: *pacing still. Trying to walk off the stress*

Gardio: Sweetheart, I'm worried about you- Lucille: I know but I'll be fine. I promise. Gardio: *frowns but quietly nods* Okay... please yell if you need me. *leaves* Lucille: *keeps staring at the sea*

Teshteal: *very much freely explores her mouth this time with his forked tongue. Eventually it wraps around hers and tries to pull on it*

Joyce: (Pulls back and pouts when the timer goes off and they have to separate, quickly putting on oven mitts so she can take out the warm tray off cookies and set it down on top of the stove)

Jasmine: (Whimpers, trying to wiggle out of the blanket but the claws of sleep are pulling her in. She doesn’t want to fall asleep, she can almost guarantee that she’ll have nightmares and is afraid of what’ll happen to her while she does so)

Ma: (Gives the girl a kiss on the head, pressing her forehead against hers while she continues to rock on the bed to lull her to sleep)

Donovan: (Telling himself not to speculate too much in this instance, it won’t do him any good right now. He just needs to focus on doing what he’s always done, and that’s looking out for his family and keeping them safe)

Joyce: (Pulls back and pouts when the timer goes off and they have to separate, quickly putting on oven mitts so she can take out the warm tray off cookies and set it down on top of the stove) Teshteal: *pouts a little but lightens up. They have all night after dessert to kiss* Joyce: (Transfers the cookies onto a rack cool down with a spatula, mouth starting to water at the gooey goodness that smells heavenly) “Mhmmm. The smell is amazing…”

Jasmine: (Starts trembling like a scared little bunny but she stops struggling, nodding off further into sleep. She’s not happy about it one bit, but she’s lost the battle…)

Ma: (Sadly smiles down at the girl as she finally settles down) “Heh. The five S’s…”

Donovan: (Snaps back into reality, rubbing his forehead) “Hm?”

Ma: (Gestures at Jas with her head) “The five S’s, for settling down crying and fussing tykes. Seems to work on this one as well.” (Goes back to assuring the teen that she’s still safe and can sleep)

Donovan: (Blinks at Jas for a moment in thought, watching as the feisty and angry kitten melt into the sweetheart he once knew who’s quietly crying from the pain she’s in, then stands and walks out of the room)

Ma: “Where are you going?”

Donovan: “To get a rocking chair for you two.” (Quickly heads into Ma’s room and picks up the spare rocking chair she keeps in there, bringing it into the guest room)

Ma: (Frowns a little, not wanting him to lift anything heavy right now but doesn’t mention it. She rises with the girl in her arms and sits in the chair, adjusting the teen so she’s snuggled up closely with the blanket still around her)

Jasmine: (Whines in confusion at the sudden movement, squirming around with some leftover energy then settles in by nuzzling up against Ma’s chest, sobbing quietly with her thumb in her mouth)

Teshteal: *thinks they look absolutely delicious. His nose twitches at the lovely smell* I could just eat them all up. *reaches out but stops* But I won't. *puts his hands back at his sides. Very slight forced smile* Gotta wait for the others! Joyce: (Nods, getting out bowls for the ice cream) “I wonder when they’ll be ready for dessert... Or if they want any at all.” (Longingly gazes at the cookies)

Jasmine: (Weakly pleas for the pain and memories to stop in her half-sleep, biting down on her thumb)

Ma: (Now that Jas is no longer moving she carefully unwraps her so she isn’t so hot and stuffy under the blanket, gently draping a sheet over both of them instead)

Jasmine: (Fearful that her dad left her just like her aunt and birth mother did- absolutely terrified at the thought that she'll have to navigate and brave the storm alone again)

Ma: "Ssh, love. You're safe here with us." (Starts rubbing the girls stomach and sides as she did earlier in a tender circular pattern, rocking in the chair to create a soothing motion)

Nick: *considering leaving Jas here with them when they make their trek to the vault, still. Her and Teshteal. It'll be too risky to take them there especially since both are susceptible to commands*

Lucille: *thinking about what Jas signed at her and winces. She still thinks the girl is right. She's had it easy compared to her... mutters to herself* Such a selfish bxtch...

Teshteal: Should I go ask...? *waves his tail up and down a little as he eyes the cookies hungrily* Joyce: (Nods her head eagerly, so hyped about dessert that she’s almost shaking and frothing at the mouth)

Jasmine: (Blubbers again when Ma does the gentle rubs, lulling her into a deeper sleep. She wont be happy at all if Nick leaves her behind to go to the vault that is a several days trip away, that's another meltdown waiting to happen)

Ma: (Quietly to herself as she rocks and massages Jas) "I’ve got her Angélica... Your baby girl is alive. She's in good hands with her father...” (Remembering her late friend, thinking about how grateful she would be that her daughter made it through the bombs. She'd be heartbroken that the girl had to endure so much terror to get here, but also mighty proud that she got this far)

Jasmine: (Tries to nestle herself even closer to Ma by pressing her face above the neckline of her dress after moving it to the side slightly so she can hear her heartbeat and feel her skin. She’s craving the sense of protection and warmth close contact to another person brings that she was deprived of for so long)

Ma: (Smiles down at the teen, not minding one bit as she continues to rub her stomach and lower back)

Jasmine: (Hums softly in content, sucking her thumb as she breathes in sync with Ma and listens to her rhythmic heartbeat. Her free hand grips the motherly woman's dress to further secure herself)

Donovan: (Almost starts shedding some tears again as he witnesses this, swearing that he'll gut the bastards that dared to hurt the sweet and precious little girl. If he hadn’t lived for so long and had witnessed firsthand how cruel people are capable of being he’d question how they would have the guts when she looks so innocent)

Lucille: *wonders if she should just leave for 88. After that blow up, she doubts they'll ever be on good terms again. It would be doing everyone a favor and at least she'd be alive...*

Teshteal: *nods and bounds over to Gardio who's checking the fire* Dessert? Gardio: *blinks, processing what he's asking* Sure. *gets up to grab some cookies and icecream* Joyce: (Opens the freezer and pulls out a large container of homemade Neapolitan ice cream, quickly fetching a scoop from the drawers)

Gardio: *to Teshteal* Check if Lucille wants a cookie please. *smiles when he notices the neopolitan* Oh, how did they make this? *admiring the fact they even have it out in the wasteland. Then again. It's a miracle their house looks like one right from before the war.

Donovan: (Stands and starts undoing Jas’s bed, swapping out her slightly bloodied sheets for fresh ones) Ma: (Takes a damp rag with one hand and dabs it on the back of Jazzy’s neck and shoulders to keep her cool, carefully tossing her loose curls back so she’s not smothered under them) Jasmine: (Asleep, but still partly aware of her surroundings as she dreams of nothing. She can feel the cool rag on her skin along with the motion of her back being rubbed)

Teshteal: Sure thing, boss! *climbs up to the attic* Lucille? You want any dessert? Lucille: ...No. I don't deserve it. Teshteal: Oh boy... *heavy huff. Tries to put on the charm* You sure? It's really good! The cookies are fresh~! Lucille: Save them for someone who isn't some selfish brute. Teshteal: *frowns and looks down. He's not going to keep pressing. Just goes downstairs to ask Donovan and Ma if they want any dessert. He feigns a smile so they don't worry about anyone else than Jasmine*

Donovan: (Fluffs up the sheets on Jas’s bed so it’s nice and comfy for when they tuck her in later)

Ma: (Raises her head from the top of Jazzy’s when Teshteal comes into the room, smiling warmly at him) “Hello dear, how are you holding up?”

Donovan: (Turns around, also giving a friendly but tired smile at Teshteal)

Jasmine: (Sniffles and shuffles a little with a small cry)

Ma: (Shushes her and keeps rubbing her back and stomach, rocking the chair a bit more)

Teshteal: Just fine. Would either of you like dessert? *maintains his false smile the entire time he's there, only letting it drop when it seems appropriate*

Joyce: (Starts scooping ice cream for herself, offering Gardio the scoop when she’s done) “We get a shipment of prewar produce and ingredients from some vaults that grow them. I’m not sure about the details though, you’ll have to ask Ma or Donny about that.” Gardio: Too bad you can't grow your own... *smiles as he takes the spoon and scoops two large piles of multiflavored icecream into the bowl* It's been quite a while since I've had icecream. Joyce: “Yeah, they require a special and specific kind of care that you can only really find in vaults. I’m pretty sure these vaults that this stuff comes from are very exclusive about who gets what.” (Shrugs her shoulders, taking three cookies) “But Mama has her ways, and I’m grateful for that because this food is heavenly.” (Her emerald green eyes widen with delight as they fixate on her bowl)

Donovan: “Oh… We didn’t even eat our dinner yet.” (Glances at Ma who won’t be able to eat until after she’s done holding Jas)

Ma: (Waves her hand at her son while dampening the cloth again) “Go on down and eat, love. I think we’re fine in here for now.” (Rests her head back on top of Jazzy’s)

Jasmine: (Settles down and goes back to breathing evenly against Ma’s chest, her fingers tightening on her house dress)

Donovan: (Might just grab his food and come on back up here, he rather stay close to the two. Although, he still wants to check up on Joyce, he doesn’t doubt she’s still upset about what she witnessed earlier)

Teshteal: Alright! *scampers out. He would go back to the kitchen but he wonders where his possum toy is so he looks for that*

Donovan: (He walks over to give his mother a kiss on the head, then gently pets Jazzy’s hair) “I’ll be back soon, call if you need anything.” (Leaves downstairs)

Lucille: *still laying in bed. If she wasn't convinced Jas hated her before, that blow up really proved her right. Maybe Patriot was right when he wrote his note before his death. Mutters* Monster...

Gardio: Very. *nods then after a moment of silently eating their cookies and icecream* You and Teshteal seem to have gotten really close. How's that been so far?

Joyce: (Was stuffing her face with a cookie that had ice cream slathered all over it) “Oh, It’s been wonderful-…” (Stops short when her older brother walks into the kitchen, setting down her spoon)

Donovan: (Smiles at the two, giving a kind nod to his sister) “Hey JoJo…” (Notices her expression and his face fills with concern, opening his arms)

Joyce: (Scratch that about what she said about feeling fine, because within seconds she’s bolting across the kitchen to tackle Donny in a hug with tears in her eyes)

Donovan: (Wraps her up in a tight embrace) “Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

Joyce: (Muffled in his shoulder) “Did YOU get hurt!” (Still shook at the fight she witnessed, followed by gunshots and a brief glimpse of the girl covered in blood)

Teshteal: *suddenly remembers Nick and runs out to ask him* Want any dessert? Nick: *looks up from his thoughts* Hm-? No, thank you. I'm a little busy thinking- Teshteal: Okay! *runs back in and looks for his plushie*

Lucille: *pulling on a loose wire in her arm. She winces. Tells herself she deserves this pain. It's the least she can do to atone for her crimes*

Gardio: *blinks at the sudden change of her mood. Feels like he didn't gage the situation right. Then again, a friendly chat is usually a nice distraction from a recent scary situation*

Donovan: (Pats her back assuredly) “I’m fine, it’s nothing I have not felt before."

Joyce: (Shakes her head) “There were gunshots!! The window broke!”

Donovan: (Winces at the reminder of what Jas tried to do to herself) “They weren’t aimed or meant for me, she wasn’t trying to hurt me…”

Jasmine: (Whines and squirms at the bad memories coming at her while she tries to rest off her fever and injuries) Ma: “Shhh, little one. You’re safe and sound here. (Rubs her with a little more pressure just to help assure her, singing one of Jas’s lullabies to soothe the girl) “A la nanita nana, nanita ella nanita ella. Mi niña tiene sueño bendito sea, bendito sea….” Jasmine: (Melts once her fractured mind refocuses on the sweet lullaby and the comforting warmth from her skin. She misses her Dad terribly still, she rather be in his arms right now. But he's gone- he just evaporated into thin air)

Teshteal: *finds his stuffed possum. It's so much fluffier and soft now and he can't help but give it a big hug because of that* Possum! *smiling like a giant child*

Lucille: *tears up. With each pull, she sends a shockwave of pain shooting through her shoulder. She briefly entertains that this is what Jasmine wants- for her to suffer. Even if it's not true*

Gardio: *stands* I can help with your injuries, Donovan. *walks over and sets a hand on the other ghoul's shoulder. He shuts his eyes and focuses, releasing a burst of radiation through his hand and over the other ghoul*

Joyce: (Steps back while this happens, sniffling on her tears as she eats her ice cream)

Donovan: (Immediately starts to feel much brighter and stronger, his headache disappearing) "Whew, thank you! That feels much better." (Grateful smile)

Nick: *might stay out there till morning. He needs more than a couple hours away from Jas* Jasmine: (Keeps sucking on her thumb, sleeping like an angel child for now. At least until her nightmares and unstable mind become too much for her to handle again and she starts flaring around) Ma: (Looking out the window, continuing to sing the old Spanish lullaby since it seems to help Jazzy as she holds the fragile girl and hopes she stays fast asleep until her father returns) “Fuentecita que corre clara y sonora. Ruiseñor que en la selva cantando llora. Calla mientras la cuna se balancea. A la nanita nana, nanita ella….”

Lucille: *gets to the point where she's crying from the pain she's inflicting on herself. She soon has to stop or risk damaging the connection of the wire. She's not going to get any sleep thanks to this... not that she thinks she deserves sleep*

Teshteal: *comes back in, clutching his possum friend in his arms, its paws sticking out on top of them. Notices Joyce crying and freezes* Oh- Did something happen? *slowly and timidly walks over to his girlfriend*

Donovan: (Wraps his arms back around Joyce to comfort her, giving Tehsteal a somber look) “She’s just a little scared about earlier….”

Joyce: (Poor girl isn’t used to violence like this, the more complicated and deeper kind where emotions are entangled into the mix)

Teshteal: *looks down at his stuffed toy* I know it's not much but... *holds it out to Joyce with both hands* You can hold him if it helps. He helped calm me down when I was scared sometimes. *smiles*

Joyce: (Takes the stuffed possum with a small chuckle of gratitude at her boyfriend) “Thank you…”

Donovan: (Plays with some of Joyce’s golden hair, pecking a kiss on her forehead) “Although, I suppose we are all rattled.” (Pats her back) “Don’t worry about hiding it for the sake of everyone else...”

Joyce: (Goes back to hugging her older brother tightly while with clutching the possum, crying a little more. Donny and Ma are the first people she met who were kind to her, who sheltered her and became her only family. She can’t imagine what she would do if one of them suddenly died…)

Teshteal: *wraps his arms around Joyce from behind to give her a hug, turning this into one big group hug. He rubs his cheek on on the back of her head into her hair*

Joyce: (Chuckles again as she’s incased into one giant hug, humming softly)

Donovan: (Gives a quick pat on Teshteals shoulder in thanks of watching out for Joyce earlier, then goes back to petting her hair)

Dogmeat: (Comes trotting up the stairs to the attic, going straight up to Lucille and whining with big puppy eyes. He starts trying to sniff her, putting is front paws on the bed)

Lucille: *quietly without looking at him* Don't worry about me, boy... I'll be fine. Go back down stairs and play with Pirate...

Pirate: (Already upstairs as well, whining with concern and doing soft little woofs) Dogmeat: (Sniffs the air where Lucille’s arm should’ve been, looking back at Pirate as if to say, “Yo, she’s being a liar! We just heard her cry out in pain.” He then jumps down from the bed to go snitch on Lucille by alerting Nick as that’s what he’s used to doing) Pirate: (Follows him downstairs and out of the doggy door into the night) Dogmeat: (Trots up to Nick, barking with urgency while pawing at the pacing detective)

@lucilleandherrobots

#fallout #fo4 #fallout 4 #fallout oc #fallout original character #nick valentine #fallout role play #fallout rp

[the-blind-geisha]

Updated Fics + Other things:

Both Amnesia: A Dreamer's Requiem and In Another Life, We Could Have Been Lovers has been updated to third POV.

I know I was generous and gave Amnesia a new chapter as well as a slew of edits, but I didn't have it in me to bother doing the same with In Another Life.

My ADHD is just... hell. lol What I'm into, I'm into. And, sadly, without vocal support on my stories, I don't have the drive or energy to continue them.

Are they gone for good? No. I am sure there will be that one comment or two that'll encourage me onward. But without there something to feed my fixation, I am just kinda hanging by a thread where Demiurge is concerned. X"D

If I write him, it'll be original things. I can't do the fandom anymore as it's too restricting and also filled with dreadful memories. These two fics were in that area; thus, making it difficult for me to work with again.

Empty Heart I still plan on working on when I have the focus for it. Because that story is for me. ♥ I could get 0 comments and still enjoy writing it. But the others kinda... died slightly. X"D

If you do wanna see them continued, awesome! A comment is certainly helpful! If not? No harm, no foul! They are going to incubate for a bit till the anime (or movie) gives me SOMETHING to froth over where he's concerned.

The same can be said for any of my stories. A comment does drive my focus back to the story like you're dangling a shiny object in front of my face. X"D But till then--I'm going to focus on a few other things!

Thanks for the support!

#mod talks #update #stories

[wurm-food]

wurmmmm i saw that you're looking for requests and i've been craving some sabo fluff lately. i was looking at your prompts tag and the gentle love ones were so cute :^ they got me thinking maybe number 40? like sabo's been away on missions for a long time and comes back to base with a bunch of little gifts he collected that reminded him of his partner while he was gone? but also i trust your judgement with whatever you want to write lolol. just a thought if you want <3

ronannnnn, I absolutely loved writing this :) I’ve also had a particular song stuck my head that fit this so I used that as some added inspo. I’m always up for some feel good Sabo fics (he deserves it!) so I hope you enjoy! 💕

Time Moves Slow (Sabo x G/N!Reader)

Sabo collects gifts that remind him of you after being away on mission for months

Word count: 0.7k One Piece Master List

CW: SFW, fluff, longing

Notes: for @theogonies :) inspired by #40 on this prompt list and the song Time Moves Slow by BADBADNOTGOOD Read this work on AO3!

Sabo was exhausted. As each of his heavy, weary steps carried him forward to the entrance of the Revolutionary Army’s base, he realized he had been for as long as he could remember. The ceaseless grind of missions and responsibilities never used to bother him. He always managed to push through the mental and physical anguish of being on the road, the dull ache of loneliness could be cast aside and crammed into the furthest corner of his mind. 

That was, until you came into his life. Both of you knew what you were signing up for when you started your relationship, but that didn’t make it any easier. Weeks or longer would go by without a word of communication. Sabo was a wanted man so it was simply safer that way in his line of work. Until you saw him again with your own eyes, you had to assume no news was good news. But despite the physical distance that kept the two of you apart, the love and trust the two of you had for each other never waivered. With every welcoming embrace, you and Sabo picked up right where you left off as if no time had passed at all. He was grateful for you and missed you dearly. 

This particular string of missions took Sabo away from you for months. He watched green leaves turn to fiery oranges and yellows as they fell to the ground. Time seemed to move even slower than usual as he watched the island change with the seasons, thoughts of missing you accented by the crunch of leaves under his footfall. His heart ached, mind wandering through every memory of you he held dear, the way your face crinkled when you laughed, the way your eyes lit up with wonder when something piqued your interest…

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, a particularly red leaf hit the brim of his hat and fell into his hands. He picked it up by the stem, twirling it between his gloved fingers in the sunlight. It was a perfect, broad leaf without blemish, vibrantly glowing scarlet amongst a sea of earthy decay. 

A new memory took shape in his mind. He was standing beside you beneath a maple tree, snuggly wrapped in a sweater. The tip of your nose and cheeks were flushed pink from the brisk autumn air, a red leaf stuck in your hair that you had failed to notice. Without thinking, Sabo plucked it from your locks. You looked back at him doe-eyed and beautiful, an expression he etched into his mind from that day forward… As Sabo’s thoughts returned to the present, he warmly smiled and tucked the leaf into his notebook.

Since then, he collected trinkets and objects that reminded him of you. Anything from shiny baubles, scraps of poetry, or humble shells was added to his sentimental treasure horde. Rather than fixating on the perpetual longing in his chest, he looked forward to the day he’d see you again and share these pieces of his heart with the one he loved most. 

And now, as Sabo trudged through the dark hallway to your shared quarters at the base, the thousands of miles between you dwindled to mere steps away. His grip squeezed tightly on the wooden box he meant to present you as he turned the door handle. Finally, his pilgrimage was over.

Sabo slowly opened the door, the familiar creak of the door filled the dark room. His eyes scanned the room until he saw you, fast asleep in the bed you two shared. Your hair framed your face around you on the pillow like a halo, the all-too-familiar purr of your breathing filled Sabo’s ears like a lullaby. Even with how heavy his boots and his hat felt on his body, he felt weightless as he stood before you, heart no longer burdened by separation. He softly placed your box on the nightstand next to you as he peeled off his layers from his journey. The two of you could comb through those treasures tomorrow. He’d hold you in his arms, reminiscing on your stupid inside jokes and the little details of your life together you thought he’d forgotten. As Sabo laid down next to you, weary eyes growing heavy with sleep, all that mattered tonight was that you were with him again. 

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