#Wiggly feelings; Musings

[dikiyvter]

2morrow , i shall be here , , ,

[someforeignband]

🪱Wiggly Worm Wednesday!🪱

having thoughts about eddie and steve going to visit steve’s grandmother! (im spending the week with my nanna and am having thoughts)

It starts with this nebulous idea that Steve’s parents didn’t want to take care of Francesca’s mother after her husband died, so they moved Steve’s maternal grandmother to a 65+ community in Sun City, Arizona. Just like their son, they’d much rather ship off Franny’s mother instead of dealing with her needs. So, they leave sweet Cecilia in a massive 2,900 square foot condo in the Arizona desert, all by herself.

One afternoon in march, Steve gets a call from his Nonna. She explains she has had some plumbing issues and neither Franny, nor Richard is returning her calls. She complains that there’s palm fronds in her yard, and with the state of her back, she just can’t fix all of these things on her own.

“How do you feel about a trip to Arizona?” Steve would ask Eddie, after a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with his grandmother.

Thusly, a PanAm flight to Phoenix was booked. It was Eddie’s first time on a plane. Despite his nerves prior to getting on the flight, he has a marvelous time. Eddie discovers that he loves turbulence and puts his hands up and giggles the whole time.

Steve, to Eddie’s dismay, is the exact opposite. He squeezes the armrest the entire 3.5 hour flight. He can’t stand how relaxed Eddie is, not understanding how someone like Eddie could just be so calm.

Once they land, Steve tries to brief Eddie on his Nonna’s disposition. “She’s sort of a firecracker, Eddie. Very particular about pretty much everything. I’m sorry if she’s mean to you.”

Eddie tells him not to worry about it, assures him they’ll get through the weekend.

To Steve’s delight (and Eddie’s utter surprise), Nonna takes to Eddie like a fish to water. He can talk about the Bible with her. Wayne’s been pretty devout his whole life, so when Eddie makes a comment about her dish towel with Philippians 4:6-7 printed on it, Steve knows Eddie’s going to practically be family.

Cece is ecstatic to be able to show the boy pictures of Italia and tell him stories about her upbringing. She shows him pictures of Franny, pictures of her late husband, and her collection of photos of Steve’s baptism. It keeps Cece distracted, while Steve gets to work fixing her kitchen plumbing.

Steve can’t help but grin to himself like a madman as he tinkers with her pipes, listening to his Nonna and his boyfriend volley back and forth. Sharp as whips, the both of them, and god it was nice to watch Eddie get on with someone who was blood to him.

Steve didn’t have much family that bothered to be in his life.

It was nice.

And best of all— at least for Nonna— Eddie can eat her food. Eddie can seriously put it away. Steve stops after one helping of Parmigiana di Melanzane, but Eddie has two more servings, and saves room for dessert.

“Eat up, Edoardo,” Cece pats his cheek. “Too skinny, Stephano. You starving him?”

“Never, Nonna,” Steve laughs, shaking his head, watching Eddie shovel another spoonful into his mouth, grinning at Steve across the dining room table.

Despite the fact that they’ve been seeing each other for a few months, after dancing around each other for the better part of two years—Eddie’s feeling things about Steve fixing his grandmas plumbing, doing yard work, etc. The flush in Steve’s face, hands on his hips, complaining about the state of the yard: Eddie’s never felt more in love (and other tingly, warm sensations).

Further, Eddie watches Steve and Cece scream at each other in stilted Italian as she tries to pick up a scorpion and take it outside with her bare hands. Finally, after about forty-five seconds of screaming and the scorpion trying to wiggle away, Steve takes Eddie’s boot and smacks the thing with a scared squeal. It crunches under the sole and twitches a few times before dying on the salmon colored tile, guts splattered everywhere.

“You handled that well,” Eddie muses, once the whole ordeal is over, taking a dishcloth and floor cleaner, scrubbing at the thing’s guts.

“I couldn’t let her get stung. She’s seventy-nine!” Steve says, then shudders. “I never wanna do that again.”

Later that night, Eddie sips coffee out of a lumpy clay mug, a Stephano Original, while she and Steve play rummy. Catching eyes over the table, they smile at each other, knowingly. After a while, Eddie gets tired, slinking off to the office, where Cecilia had set him up with an air mattress.

Before Steve retires to the spare bedroom that night, his Nonna pulls him aside, wrapping him in a warm hug.

“Ti voglio,” She whispers, kissing his temple, smoothing his hair back.

“I love you too,” Steve answers quietly, thrown off by the unexpected display of affection.

“And,” She pauses, scrunching her dark eyebrows together, deciding exactly what to say. “I really like that boy, Stephano.”

Steve’s chest fills with warmth, not knowing exactly if she means what he hopes she means. But at that moment, he’ll take it.

“Me, too, Nonna.” He whispers, grinning at her. “Me, too.”

TAGGING ONLY @yours-etc!!!! WRITE SOMETHING I MISS YOUR WRITING

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 82 (Adorable Lavender)

Lavender had her father's blue eyes and mother's hair. A wiggly infant who loved wake up time, she was a delightful, happy baby who could even tolerate tummy time longer than most.

Her excitable nature did often leave her with hiccups, but this didn't impact her digestion like her pediatrician feared it might. Even her tired cries made her parents' hearts swell. Heather and Conrad settled into a daily routine: sending Ash to school before they left for work, delivering Lavender to daycare on the way. At night, they helped Ash with his homework, spent time with the kids, and cared for their pets.

Conrad's workload at the precinct was heavy. His search for Ximena's brother did his schedule no favours, but Conrad was careful and meticulous with his cases. With young kids at home, none of his fellow detectives suspected he had any free time - let alone that he was using it to search for Rafa under the table.

More than anything, Conrad hoped it wasn't too late to get through to him. If San Myshuno PD found him first, Rafa would be sent to prison. Conrad had been the closest thing to a father-figure he'd ever had, and he couldn't help but feel, when he left Ximena, he'd left Rafa, too.

"Gord hovers so much more now that Lavender's here," Heather mused. "He doesn't even get excited about leaving for work with you in the mornings anymore."

Conrad knew why Gord didn't want to leave Heather and the kids, but he still couldn't find the right way to tell her the truth.

"Gord decides who he wants to serve and protect," he said instead, giving in to the Bernese's desire to stay home. "I can't make him chase down suspects at the station if he'd rather be here."

The longer it took to come clean, the harder it seemed to bring it up. He was grateful Ximena had stopped calling him, at least.

Ash was improving his grades and always breezed through his homework. Nancy had promised simoleons for every A grade on his report card, and the young genius was happy to work his wealthy grandmother for the extra spending money. Heather tried to object, but she couldn't stop Nancy from spoiling him.

Art was his favourite subject at this stage, and he spent hours drawing. Nancy wanted to sign him up for art classes with prestigious painters in the city, but he was happy enough with crayons at his craft table, and not quite interested in easels and paints just yet.

He was still a little unsure about his little sister, who was only moderately more interesting to him as an infant. "Lavender still doesn't do much, mommy. When will she be able to go out and play in the snow with me?"

"Not for a while yet," Heather explained. "But you were this small once, and you grew. She might even be able to hit her milestones faster if you play with her. Show her how to be a big kid like you."

Excited at the prospect, Ash was sweet with his baby sister. Lavender watched him wide-eyed and giggled at his stories about aliens and zombies and superhero princesses. But she, like her brother, liked best the one about the giving tree.

They were happy and Heather, like his coworkers, was none the wiser to Conrad's search for wanted man Rafa Bonilla. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Lavender's third infant quirk will be revealed, but it's not apparent yet!

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 7 - hustling for the good life

table of contents

if you made it to the end, thank you🥰

the way forward

Touring is absolutely insane. It’s not as crazy as some people’s like, say, Allie Gooding, but it’s still so. Much. Work. You don’t really dance, mostly hold your guitar while sitting in the middle of a stage while people twirl and leap behind you.

It’s a Blue Glass tour, technically speaking, but Mango is by far the highlight.

You’re in the city of its origin, with its muses sitting front and center. 

“I’ll let you go/Because it’s best for me/I slip out the back/And turn the key,” the audience sings.

i saw u on tiktok, Jamie texts that night. fukig mint the way the crowd sang all the words.

Claire was crying, you type back. And why can’t you ever spell “fuck” correctly??

cant all be smarty pants musicians, Jamie writes. Then, been blessed to be a dumb, sexy footballer.

Ok, I have to go to sleep. Flying to some small city tomorrow afternoon. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Called something like idk, Landon? Lodan?

He asks, u still staying at mine?

Yep. Can’t wait!!

FUCKIMG M I N T, Jamie responds.

—

You’ve been in Richmond for approximately four hours, just long enough to say hi to Keeley, eat dinner, and, you know, ditch Natalie so you and Jamie can make up for time spent apart.

“That’s disgusting,” she says before hopping into the hired car.

“Ok miss ‘I fucked-‘”

“WHOA, ok,” she says, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m out of here.”

But now you’re laying in Jamie’s bed as he runs his hand up and down your arm, tucked against his side.

“You’re bringing the team to the show tomorrow, right?” you ask.

“Hm,” Jamie agrees.

“Cool,” you say softly, “Do you think they’re going to want to meet the musical guest?”

“Yes,” Jamie says immediately. “Lads’ve been hounding me all week. Even fucking Ted’s been asking.”

You smile. “Seems no one’s immune to the charms of Allie Gooding.”

“I fucking knew it,” Jamie gasps. “Fucking knew it. You gonna do Creekside?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he asks, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “How you do all this shit, I don’t know.”

You’re silent. The truth is, you don’t even know how you do all this shit. Natalie is barely managing to keep your head on straight as it is. At first, it was fun to travel. Now, you just want a good night of sleep.

You have an especially hard time with meet and greets. It always feels too crowded and stifling, and there’s no Jamie to hold your hand or sneak you out the door so nine times out of ten, you have a panic attack while pretending that everything’s fine.

You’d be happy never touring again, just playing your guitar for Jamie in the living room. Writing songs for the people you love and only for the people you love. Mango felt important in a way that Blue Glass didn’t. It had a message and actually helped people, whether or not they knew it.

Claire sent you a small video every time her song was playing in a shop or on the radio, then end the song by clasping her thumb and index finger into a heart. She sent one of her and the other women in her new house, dancing to Kitchen Epiphany.

“We wouldn’t be here without you, babe!” she said at the end.

But she was wrong. You wouldn’t be there without her. It’s wrong, all wrong, but you only have a couple nights with Jamie so you roll on top of him and press your lips to his.

—

You’re in Greece less than a week and a half later, sporting a Tartt jersey as you pull up to your hotel.

Natalie’s been making wiggly eyes at you the whole time you’ve had it on but you don’t care because you’re almost done with this godforsaken tour and you haven’t broken up with Jamie. He still loves you, for some reason you don’t understand.

But hey, you’ve never claimed to understand the male brain.

As you make the mad dash from the car into the safety of the lobby, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn and see Donovan, your most recent ex. He’s smiling and holding hands with a girl you used to see around his photoshoots.

“How have you been?” he asks warmly. 

“Good!” you say. “Hopping all around the world, but good!”

He’s still smiling that picture-perfect smile. “Saw you’re dating Jamie Tartt. You guys actually look happy together. Just like me and Zoe. Unless, of course, it’s show?”

“Oh,” you reply, startled. “I, uh, well,”

“It’s ok,” Donovan interjects. “Zo knows we weren’t actually dating.”

“Oh,” you say again, relieved. You never did feel the need to act around Donovan. “Yeah, no, it’s real. At least, it feels real. Wasn’t set up by a PR firm or anything and we’ve been able to keep it pretty quiet.”

Donovan nods. “You’ve always been good in staying out of trouble. Me, not so much.” 

Zoe grins from her place on his arm. “Yeah, but now we get into quiet trouble. We’re getting married this week, and no one even knows that we’re dating.”

She holds out her hand to show you and Natalie the biggest ring you’ve ever seen.

“Nice,” Natalie says. “But we’ve got to check in. Great to see you, Donny.”

“God,” she says as she drags you away, “that could’ve been you. You would have made perfect plastic babies with that absolute fucking Ken.”

“Hey, Dono was nice,” you defend.

“Uh huh. What with all that… personality.”

Ok fine, so maybe he was rather one-dimensional. He and Danielle seem perfectly happy. You’re glad that he’s doing well, despite your so-called “torrid love affair.”

You’ll have to drop by their room at some point to catch up for real.

—

You end up going out to a club with him. And Natalie and Danielle of course, but as you step through the doors, you’re kicking yourself. Why did you think this was a good idea? It smells and it’s crowded, but you’re going to suck it up for Natalie, and for the sake of socialization. Your only consolation is that pretty much everyone will be too drunk to know who you are.

It’s all fine, you’ve had some water and you’re dancing with Natalie when the lights hit your eyes wrong, or maybe the beat dropped when you weren’t expecting it, but it doesn’t actually matter because your eyes go wide and you feel like you’re drowning. You push your way through the crowd out the door, barely noticing Donovan and Zoe hot on your heels.

“Hey,” he calls after you, “you alright?”

No, you want to say. No, you’re not alright because you’re with a bunch of strangers and you just want to be home with Jamie. You want to kick a football around with him on the weekends and hold his hand and be alone. You can feel tears sliding down your cheeks, and Donovan cups your face in his hands to wipe them away. 

“Maybe we should go,” he says concerned. Zoe’s leaning against a wall, phone out. 

“Already got an Uber,” she says. “You’ll be ok, babe.”

Donovan presses a kiss to your forehead. “C’est pas de problème,” he says. “Ne stresses pas.”

—

You can tell something’s wrong the moment you wake up. Maybe because you can’t hear Natalie in the other room or maybe it’s intuition, but the air isn’t right. You open up your phone to Instagram and find a picture of you and Donovan from last night. He’s holding your face and looking at you with what you know is concern, but to the observer looks like- love?

Oh shit.

The caption is the standard bullshit - “Forest Fire singer reignites old flame,” and you think you might be sick.

You keep scrolling and there’s another one, this time with Donovan kissing your forehead. The caption underneath is a rant to the effect of, how could you cheat on Jamie Tartt? What a greedy little bitch.

The more you go, the more you find. It’s the same set of pictures with the same set of captions.

It’s the damage to your public image that concerns you. You’ve been around long enough to know that it will blow over, especially because it’s unsubstantiated. You’re thinking of Jamie.

Oh god, what’s he going to think? You’re positive he’s seen it already, because how could he not? It’s so rare that you have a so-called scandal, that you’re trending. If he didn’t find it on his own, one of his friends definitely sent it to him.

Your phone is blowing up with news notifications and text messages. You have ten missed calls from Natalie an inbox full of voicemails. You’ll probably delete all of them without listening. 

But what you really care about is Jamie because in the plethora of messages all you’ve gotten from him is a single fucking voice memo. It’s five seconds long, the exact amount of time it takes to say “fuck you,” and you don’t want to open it. 

But a voice in your head compels you, the same voice that gave you the ok to fall in love with him in the first place, so before you can talk yourself out if it you press play and hold it up to your ear. 

“Hey,” says Jamie’s voice. “I love you.”

And that’s it. 

You don’t even try to calculate what time it is in London, you just hit the call button.

“Hey,” says Jamie’s real, actual voice.

“Hi,” you breathe. “I love you. And I hate touring. And press. I just want to make my songs and never fucking tour again. Donovan and I weren’t even doing anything. I had a goddamn panic attack and he was helping me calm down, and his literal fiancée is like three feet off camera but no one knows they’re together because fuck the press.”

Jamie chuckles. “No one’s making you do all this, love. You don’t owe people anythin’. You can just live your life without selling it. But like, if you want to sell it you can. You know?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Oi. Look. Are you actually doing what you want? Because if it ain’t making you happy, you can stop.” 

You can hear a muffled voice in the background before you have a chance to respond. 

“Yeah, it’s her,” Jamie says to the voice. 

There’s a chorus of your name as Jamie says, “Dani and the lads say hi.”

“Tell them I say hi,” you respond. “Wait, where are you? It’s like nine there. Are you at training?”

“Weight room,” Jamie says, “but don’t get distracted. Are you happy?”

“No,” you say. “No, I’m not I want to- I want to play my guitar in your backyard and talk to Clare and help out Christine and not give Natalie a fucking aneurism every single day. I want to be able to sleep and not worry what people think of me and I want to like singing again. I want to visit my friends and have time to listen to their music and maybe I’ll tour with them, but only for fun. And most of all, I want to be with you. I want to go to all your matches and wear so much red and blue that I look like a gremlin and then I want to go home with you. And I want, like, domestic stuff too, like grocery shopping and cooking and- and-”

“And brushing our teeth at the same time,” Jamie helpfully supplies.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m really tired of all this.”

“Well,” Jamie says, “you’ve got one more week. Then fucking come home.”

—

You tell Natalie she’s fired, just to see the look on her face. 

She starts yelling when you tell her you’re kidding but only kind of and then she hits you with her purse, stringing together curses in both English and Spanish.

She’s less mad when you give her a raise and tell her she’s now in charge of managing all your shit so you don’t have to.

“I thought that’s what I was doing already,” she says, and now it’s your turn to smack her.

“First decision I’m making is switching to KJPR,” she says.

You ask, “What the fuck is that?” with a nose wrinkle.

Nat just grins. “Keeley’s PR firm.”

You let out a scream. “NO FUCKING WAY. NO FUCKING WAY! How did I miss that??”

Natalie shrugs and says, “She told me to pass on the message because she figured you were busy. I sent her a very nice gift basket from you.”

You sigh and grab Natalie for a hug. “You’re the absolute best, you know that?”

“Uh huh,” she says. “You’d be dead without me.”

—

It’s off-season, a year later. You’re on a beach in Brazil, lying in a chair next to Keeley, who’s in a hot-pink bikini.

“I never want to go back to England,” she says, sipping her drink.

You laugh. “I think your boytoy would disagree.”

She huffs and says, “Not my fault he has all that fucking hair. And anyway, he’s the one who wanted to come!”

“Fucking grandad,” Jamie grumbles good-naturedly next to you.

“You invited him,” you say. “You said, ‘Babe, Roy has to be there when we elope.’”

“How was I supposed to know he hated the sun?” Jamie asks, exasperated. “Twat never said anything!”

“He wears black all the time and never smiles, babe. He’s basically a vampire. You should’ve known.”

“I can fucking hear you,” Roy says from under the umbrella. “I’m not fucking deaf.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and say, “I’m just glad Natalie left yesterday. Some honeymoon this is.”

Jamie gets up from his chair and flops on top of you. 

“Oof,” you grunt.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “Hey, think there’s a pitch ‘round here? I brought my boots. Think they’re under the bed, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “‘Football is life,’ or whatever. I’m gonna write a hit song about how my husband likes a fucking ball better than me.”

“I’d pay good money to hear that,” Roy says.

Jamie props himself up on his forearms and puts on his most angelic expression. “That’s me, the adorable yet sexy trophy husband. I’m your muse.”

“You’re something,” you say. “Ooh, I think I can use that in the song!”

table of contents

[eggelette]

Webby and Wiggly Twin Theory

I haven't seen this theory in my musings of the Hatchetfield/Lords in Black lore, so if it's already cropped up I apologise and I'd like to credit it here if someone mentions it

I just wanted to raise the theory that Wiggly and Webby are twins. Initially I had thought so because of the interesting conflicting relationship of "The Lord in Black" Wiggog Y'wrath and "The Queen in White" Webby. As creatures beyond our understanding they both act as the figureheads of the Black and White respectively, and while Wiggly is the leader of the Lords in Black, Webby is their enemy. They are siblings themselves but them being twins makes the lore feel balanced. One cannot exist without the other. They are defined by each other.

Also in sketching out Webby's potential doll design, I realized that to me Wiggly's design actually makes a lot of sense. Wiggly shares the same features (the little prongs from the mouth resemble those of a spider spider! Webweaving also being Webby's biggest theme). Webby is ACTUALLY Hannah's friend in Black Friday, while Wiggly pretends he is one to her and to the Hatchetfield citizens.

I also like to think that the dialogue of Wiggly saying "Webby is a stupid bitch" is the most sibling like attack when the horrors are made each other. Like I like to imagine Webby telling Hannah that Wiggly is a deceitful little prick.

I also think that the two being twins speaks to the cosmos, and also to the rest of the Lords in Blacks. They all have the potential to do good- to be good, they even did so in Nerdy Prudes Must Die in getting rid of Max Jagerman. Yet they persist in playing with humans' lives, like when they subsequently enabled Grace Chastity. All reflect humans potential cruelty but also kindness yet they don't do any of the latter. I think part of them are trying to impress Wiggly, because they do not compare to Webby, his twin sister, because Wiggly wants deep down for there to be six Lords in Black.

Webby is what stands in the way of the Black and White expanding into our grey reality. Webby, even as the queen of the white, treasures the greyness of humanity in the silver threads she weaves across dimensions.

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Nightlight For Your Pride

[Lamb meets the usually confident Swiss in a time of weakness and doubt. Short read, but a wholesome one.] Below the cut.

"You're just... not really my type."

It shouldn't bother him, Swiss knows.

Most of the time he can let that sort of thing slide, cause, shit, if he was everyone's type he'd be up to his ears in warm bodies to cuddle, but he thought...

Swiss thumps the back of his head against the stone wall behind him, running a hand down his face as the other fiddles with the cigarette pinched between his fingers, unlit.

"I'm sorry if I led you on, that wasn't my intention."

He really thought...

"I don't mind hooking up, but dating's a no."

He was so fucking embarrassed.

"No, it's, it's fine." He'd said, "No worries."

Fine.

No worries.

"Dammit..." Swiss groans, sinking down into a squat.

He'd kind of walked off after that, after saying it was fine, and just... kept going.

Honestly, Swiss had only meant to take a short walk to clear his head, but now he's here; The old chapel on the other side of the woods past the lake.

It's a place he's maybe been once or twice before, but never alone, and certainly not this late in the afternoon.

"Haahhh... Man, why am I so hung up on this?" he mutters to himself, rummaging through his pockets for his lighter, "I didn't even like her that much, I just..."

What had he been thinking?

"Stupid."

They just got back from tour, he should be celebrating, not getting hung up over some girl.

Some pretty, smart, talented girl, who made his stomach feel all wiggly...

"We can still be friends though."

Swiss lets the cigarette hang in his mouth and go to ash.

"I don't think... that's possible." he mumbles, then asks the air, "Do you?"

"I have... no idea." a voice from somewhere above his head has Swiss scrambling away from the wall.

"Who's there?!" he shouts, panicked, "Who-"

"The nightshift." says a little ghoul as they hang over the top of the wall, horns glowing bright green in the fading light, "I did not mean to startle you, but there was not a good time to announce my presence."

"The nightsh-Oh. Oh, shit! How late is it?" Swiss asks, patting himself down for his phone, but coming up empty, "Shit..."

The ghoul on the wall slinks down and crouches on the ground in a very froglike pose, reaching into a pouch around their waist and withdrawing Swiss' phone from it, holding it out to him carefully.

"You dropped this by the lake."

"You've been, uh, you've been following me that long?" Swiss chuckles nervously, wondering how he hadn't noticed them before taking his phone back, "You... you could have said something sooner."

"Mn, you did not seem like you wanted to be bothered." the ghoul replies, long, pale tail sweeping through the leaves on the ground, the eerie glow coming off the spade casting yet more of that strange green light, "Normally, I would not follow someone so far. I do not like wandering too much, but it will be getting dark soon."

"Wait..." Swiss stares at the ghoul for a moment, tilting his head, "Wait, do I know you?"

"I do not think so?" they reply, mirroring the tilt, "You do not look familiar to me."

"No, no, I..."

Swiss bites the inside of his cheek, thinking back on a conversation he'd had with Dew ages ago now...

What was...

“There’s only one other ghoul from that incident that’s still in residence here, but they live in the dorms with the human clergy, and they’re honestly kind of weird.”

“How so?”

“Walks on all fours all the time, glows in the dark like a radioactive sleep paralysis demon, dislikes other ghouls …except for fucking Aeth for some reason…”

“Why do you sound so bitter about that, hm~?”

"You're... Satanas I never did learn your name, but, I heard about you from a friend." he says finally, "You live with the clergy, right?"

The ghoul nods.

"I did not know whether or not I should be worried that people speak of me." they muse, "Or flattered."

Radioactive sleep paralysis demon...

"Ehn, it's subjective..." Swiss lands on, "So you are...?"

"Lamb."

"Lamb, okay. Uh, I'm Swiss." he says, offering his hand to them, "Nice to meet you."

"Swiss like the cheese, or Swiss like the country?" Lamb asks, giving Swiss' hand a gentle pat instead of shaking it.

"Oh, it's, I guess like the country kind, but it's more like, Swiss Army Knife, 'cause I'm a multi-"

...dislikes other ghouls...

Swiss pauses, biting his lip.

"-talented individual." he grins, "So, Lamb, um, care to escort me back to the abbey? Since it looks like the sun's going to set soon, and, ya know, can't see very well in the dark."

Lamb nods.

"Stay close then."

The walk back to the abbey is cathartic if nothing else.

Watching Lamb weave through the tall grass on all fours is silly, but something about the way they pause and wait for him to catch up, or look back at him, or warn him of dips in the path makes Swiss' chest feel warm.

"...Possibly rude question, but... why do you walk like this?" Swiss asks as they make their way round the lake, which Lamb stops at to lap at the water there like some kind of predator mammal taking a break from the hunt to hydrate, "Is it comfortable?"

Lamb peers back at him and hums.

"It's not particularly uncomfortable." they say, moving back into a seated position, "Feels safer."

"Safer?"

Lamb shrugs, then raises up, albeit not very high, standing at their full height.

They're really quite small, maybe around Aurora's height, possibly a smidge taller, but it's hard to tell without the ghoulette around to compare them to.

"I wasn't saying that to make you feel like you needed to stand up-" Swiss frets.

The ghoul gives him a confused look and carries on walking towards the abbey, their tail flicking through the grass, now brighter than before.

"Why..." Swiss starts, but cuts himself off.

"You can ask questions." Lamb tells him, as if sensing his hesitation, their tone shifting to a gentler one that puts Swiss strangely at ease, "I don't mind."

Swiss considers this, catching up to walk beside them.

"Why does your tail... glow?"

Man, he sounds like a little kid.

"I don't really know." Lamb admits, "But Omega said it's not hazardous or really... uh, toxic or anything of the sort. Although, I would not touch it."

"Why not?"

Yeup, little kid.

"It can get on your skin and stain it."

Swiss blinks.

"Really?"

And just like that, he's reaching out and-

"...Hey, Aeth, do we have any of the good dish soap?"

His hands keep that unnatural glow for two whole hours despite Aether almost scrubbing off a full layer of Swiss' skin, but it fades eventually.

And when it does?

He misses it.

[queenimmadolla]

I’m thinking of penny maybe when she’s like 4 or 5 wanting a pet snake but reader would never let that happen. The disappointment when she receives a fish tho…

this is messing with my head bc I AS READER would let my baby have a pet snake—i love snakes, had 2 of them before they died (rip my beloved babies)—and teach her how to take care of them but let me entertain your muse:

she’d be so disappointed and bored with a fish, but she’d give it a chance and it would, unfortunately, be a BB from Kill Bill situation. like, she wouldn’t intentionally kill it, but she would put it out of its bowl and step on it, more so for curiosity bc shes little and she’s accidentally stepped on like dogs’ paws and cats tails before in her haste and clumsiness and they were fine so she figured why wouldn’t it be the same with her fish? he’s extra wiggly too, so he’ll be fine! he’s not fine and she feels guilty for weeks. sobbing, and inconsolable…until reader and eddie have a cute little cinnamon ball python baby for her to meet.

she’s never handled something with such gentle hands as she does her new, slithery friend.

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: Some Moments in a Gentle War by David MacRae Landon

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/some-moments-in-a-gentle-war-by-david-macrae-landon/

This collection of #poems borrows its title from a line of the second poem, “Kleos, or Fame”. “Kleos” also begins the story of the #war, “gentle” because it is a commitment, at times a struggle, to care: for each other and our #world, from moment to moment, from day to day. To fight the gentle war is to live in opposition to another war, a war associated in several of the poems with “history”: reckless ambition, abuse of power, indifference to suffering, violence. There are moments—at times mysterious—when we feel the gentle war may win, so let’s celebrate, let’s remember those moments. In iambic pentameter? It is a meter usually more vigorous than gentle. But there are moments we want to remember and celebrate with vigor!

David Landon is the Bishop Juhan Professor of Theatre Emeritus at the University of the South in Sewanee. He won the American Academy Poetry Prize as an undergraduate at Harvard, where he was class poet. More recent poems have appeared in Able Muse (Write Prize), Southwest Review (Marr Prize, runner-up), Georgia Review (Lorraine Williams Prize, featured finalist), and elsewhere. As an actor he has performed with the Nashville, Alabama, and New York Shakespeare Festivals, with the Provincetown and New Orleans Tennessee Williams’ Festivals. Several of his undergraduate poems were republished in the Harvard Advocate Centennial Anthology (T. S. Eliot, Wallace Stevens, E.E. Cummings, etc.).

PRAISE FOR Some Moments in a Gentle War by David MacRae Landon:

In the intimate voice of a wise friend over a glass of wine, Landon’s poems both narrate and participate in a “gentle war”—that is, a quiet but noble campaign “to take back history from violence.” In locations ranging from the Metropolitan Museum to a rural Piggly Wiggly, Montaigne and Bach are at home, but so are the mundane details of unfolded laundry, a paper cup—all invested with what Landon calls “magic.” The enchantment is in the verse itself, a deftly conversational form distilled from Landon’s years as a Shakespearean actor. But don’t be fooled: these captivating poems are as current as today’s news, and give the reader strength to bear it.

–Jennifer D. Michael, Author of Let Me Let Go and Dubious Breath (Finishing Line Press)

In this splendid new collection, David Landon mines quotidian experience for its luminous gists, finding them as he conjures Montaigne late one night in a corner of the Piggly Wiggly parking lot in Monteagle, TN, or recalls a moment of in-flight pizzaz approaching Idlewild. These are poems in which the trials of life, the inevitable disabilities of advancing age, are met with a joyful exuberance. The gentle war is the war against entropy and despair, fought with love, hope, and gratitude. This is a book which discharges and inspires gratitude.

–Charles Martin, author of The Khayyam Suite (Johns Hopkins, 2025)

With clarity and formal grace, Some Moments In a Gentle War traces the contours of a life richly experienced. David Landon’s voice is frank, erudite, and threaded with surprising tenderness as he reflects on the passage of time and honors “the art of day to day.” These are poems to celebrate and cherish.

–Caki Wilkinson, author of The Survival Expo

Please share/repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #read #poems #literature #poetry #war

[e-m-p-error]

😳 ( let's go with both Vox )

Send 😳 For something my muse does when they are aroused

[ Vick ]

Vick is a wiggly thing. He cannot sit still. If he's feeling needy he'll grind on his chair or against his palm, even though he tries very hard not to. He craves friction and will seek it as much as he can.

[ Vox ]

Vox is very grabby when he's horny. If he likes a part of his partner's body he's touching it immediately. Depending on what it is, he'll give little zappies and that's a pretty big indicator of his arousal, too.

[hyumjim]

Then & now whatever runways ep 1

THEN.

Alexis Michelle: toot it’s cute. It’s a costume

Kahanna montrese: boot it’s generic

Heidi in closet: toot I can’t say anything more about this it would probably be problematic

Mrs kasha Davis: toot, elevated version of the flapper look I feel. Like the best possible version of that

Naysha Lopez: boot. I feel it doesn’t fit her?

Kandy muse: also boot I also feel it doesn’t fit her. Her hair is wiggly af

Darienne lake: boot, don’t really know why she is wearing that

Monica Beverly Hillz: toot. I like it

Jaymes Mansfield: toot. Eated

Jessica wild: toot mother

Jimbo: toot because it’s jimbo. This bitch is so stupid

Lalari: toot gorge like kinda black glamour version of alexis’s look. Love the hair

NOW

alexis Michelle: boot I don’t get it at all. Zentai suit realness? Don’t understand how it fits the theme

Kahanna: toot, well-executed, cute reference

Heidi: toot adorable

Kasha: boot? Love her but idk it’s a sweatsuit and kris Jenner is no longer interesting

Naysha: boot Im not seeing Donatella

Kandy muse: boot these runways are fast as fuck but idkkk not feeling inspired

Darienne: gentle boot. I like the idea of doing billlie but execution was meh

MBH: boot because of it looking bad

Jaymes: toot cmon jojo idc

Jessica wild: boot why is the hair flat

Jimbo: toot love you stupid slut

Lalari: soft boot because it sucks but idk I love it because it’s bad???? The bad wig. Slay

[updatesatbase]

Heads up

I write Starscream extremely headcon heavy. I focus a lot on the hatchlings/Sparklings cause I just found the fact of "daycare teacher Starscream" hilarious.

Personality

Starscream is twitchy, quick to anger and aggressively protective of the hatchlings. His prideful, snarky and can be rather rude. His not afraid to throw a punch if he feels it's deserved, but his not stupid. He will not pick a fight he cannot win. But be sure he will hiss and curse.

But on good days, when his calm and collected. His patiens, he loves to explain things, show how something works to anyone wondering. He likes to tinker, to use his hands. If you're ever looking for him his proberly perched on the highest point he can get to.

Past

Height: 31'ft (9.4m)

Alt-mode: F-22 Raptor

Trine status: Alive

Frame type: Flight warframe, Guardian, Seeker

Orgin: Cold-construct, made for fighting and guarding

Flight: Can fly in robot mode, but jet mode is faster for traveling and gives him better manoeuvering.

Weaponry: Complete list can be found here

So, the hatchlings. Where did they come from?

Comic bout hatchling guardian Starscream (for fun)

Now how they came to be. well, I can roll whichever you're more comfortable with. But unless you tell me what you prefer he is there carrier be default.

Carrier Starscream

They are his, they came from him. The sire? Up for discussion. As a seeker he can carry a lot. After they finish building and there sparks descent from his own into the little orb like structer. They emerge to the outside world. No it's properly not how you think, his not an organic mammals. After that they chill for a while before transforming into wiggly sparklings. Super tiny and adorable 10/10 would recommend holding.

As a hardcore poly(muli-ship) Starscream has probably rolled around with a bunch of the cons, possibly pulled an autobot into his clutches as well.

So any Deception or Autobot muses who wishes to claim one(or more) of the bitlets. This is your open invitation to kick in the door of my inbox and demand visiting rights (Or come into my messanger and plot something out?)

[sparkmender]

Get To Know The Mun

------The Basics!

Name: Samsa!

Pronouns: they/them or she/her as convenient

Zodiac Sign: Pisces, shocking I know

Single/Taken: @a-life-revised and I have a blood pact but everything else is a little [wiggles hand vaguely]

------Three Facts!

1- I work as a toy designer during the week, and I teach handcrafts (embroidery, knitting, crochet, etc) on the weekends :>

2- Spiders are my favorite animals!! Shortly followed by atlas & hercules beetles, and then bees.

3- I used to be a pastry chef at Disney World!

------Experience!

Platforms Used: hoorgh. Started on private chat boards in 2009 as Mickey Mouse for the KH fandom? Went through a couple of platforms. Tumblr since 2011.

Plotting / Winging It / Memes: yeah... yeah. However it works best, I'm just happy to be here, please just have patience with me 'cause I have the attention span of a goldfish and I'm borderline legally blind.

------Muse Preference!

Gender: SHRUGS. WHATEVER. Gender is kinda also [wiggly hand gesture].

Multi or Single: I find single must blogs easier to do development etc with.

Least Favorite Faceclaim(s): why did I decide to use jerma for rattrap. what is wrong with me.

------Fluff / Angst / Smut!

Fluff: Primary motivator for writing Rung was that I just wanna see him happy...

Angst: ...but also I oocasionally torment him a little bit. Just a smidge. He's the Functionist Timeline version of Rung, he's been through the wringer.

Smut: Honestly as much as I love intimacy, it can be really hard for me to get in the headspace of writing genuine smut. I'm not a very sexual person in general. Rung is very sex positive though lol.

Tagged by: @blackwldcw !! Thank you!!

Tagging: feel free if you'd like to do it :>

[susan-gampre]

☼ - DAYSTAR - a secret they don’t want coming to light

There was... Laughter, in the air. Like that of wind chimes, made naturally and carried by the wind, to her it was music. In the distance, following a stretch of road that curved around a steep hill would the sounds of high pitched giggles and deep belly laughs are heard coaxing the weary to it's warm sounds.

Susan's journey had been long but uneventful as she was only miles north and in the mountains outside of the Brothel's humble village local, but the chill lingering winter weather had made the woman cold to the bone. The cold was a misery to her, but she marched on despite it. She'd pull her jacket tighter to her figure, the fur lining engulfing her skin in it's plush touch -- At the motion of her discomfort the tigress lingering at Susan's side would step closer in a gentle nudge of affection and attempted comfort, something which Susan would smile genuinely at.

She reaches her arm out to rest across Anthrel's broad shoulders, musing gently as they approached the end of the road, "Sweet girl..."

They'd come into view of a humble scene. A handsome town home of sturdy human architecture stood tall and proud in contrast to the twisting and wispy branches of the pandaren flora -- A dusting of snow surrounding the property, leaving everything in it's powdery blanket.

The chimney was smoking, lights were lit in nearly every window -- And there, in the front yard of the preserved acreage hidden in the cliffside, two boys were playing a game of snow ball fight. Both bundled up nice and tightly in their winter wear, jackets, hats and gloves protecting them from the frigid breezes which waft through occasionally.

Susan would pause then, the tiger not moving an inch forward in response to the hesitation -- Busy admiring the picture perfect sight of the handsome tykes as they played freely and happily in the snow, children with somewhat normal livlihoods, not a care in the world to them. One boy, alittle older and with notably dirty blonde, shaggy hair would pause in the playing when his stark golden eyes meet their match in his mother's gaze.

"Momma!"

Instantly Susan would feel her body react, her heart nearly leaping with joy and a lump forming in her throat that she'd nearly choke on as the weariness of the last few days came crashing down on her. he suddenly felt so drained her knees nearly buckle, but seeing her second oldest start sprinting toward her with an excited youngest trailing after, both squeaking out their excitement to have her home... She'd brighten up in her expression, eyes soft and brimming with affection, her lips curled up into a precious smile.

Without hesitation Susan ran forward, closing the distance between them by dropping to her knees in the snow, the skin of her knees burning against the chill of the frozen water -- But she hadn't a care in the world as the blonde boy slammed into her open arms, nearly toppling her over. She did topple over finally when the brunette boy trailing his brother slammed into them both, knocking all three of them over into the snow with a bought of laughter from them all.

From the porch of the home a nanny calls forth, amusement in her voice, "Welcome home, Miss Gampre! Dinner is nearly ready!"

Though she hadn't a care in the world, her arms full of two wiggly toddlers. Quietly her tiger would draw closer, laying in the snow and curling up around the trio in an effort to bring them some warmth and comfort as they all remained laying there, giggling in the snow together like fools, simply enjoying this moment of kindling love together.

"Welcome home, mommy," her youngest says, his little head resting against the nape of her neck, the snow peppering through his curly brown hair cold, but the gesture bringing her more warmth than any mead she'd ever drank. Her second oldest curls up into her side, his arms stretched to fit around her and his brother as he allows his eyes to flutter shut, simply living in this moment of unconditional love. With her boys no longer looking at her would Susan begin to feel her emotions bubbling to the surface, her eyes welling with tears as she whispers in response, "Thank you, my babies..."

Thank you, @captzexx

[elganac]

[ COLD ] from anderson to leah. seems to fit his alias as "IceCrown", no?

( prompts for muses who are Little Shits™ // not accepting! )

[ COLD ] — sender puts their cold fingers under receiver's shirt

was that a small dog, or was that just anderson's girlfriend squeaking like one? in her defense, upon feeling the champion's hands slide beneath her shirt, leah reacted almost instinctively. which, in this case, meant a rather high-pitched sound to express her surprise of feeling such freezing hands lay atop her own warm skin.

"baby!" like a wiggly worm, leah tries to curl into herself to escape from anderson's touch, bouts of laughing ringing throughout the room despite her protesting retort. "why are your hands so cold? go warm them up another way!"

[sweeterthanmydreams]

The Third Summer: Triple Trouble part 2 (the Hemming-Byrd Legacy)

[Legacy Challenge Rules] [My Legacy Sheet] [Blank Legacy Sheet] [Intro] [<< Previous] [Next >>]

At the cusp of Thursday & Friday, the infants age up. First is the oldest, Amethyst, who's gone from Sunny to Inquisitive just like big sister Ruby. Next is the little peanut butter puff, Merida, who's gone from Wiggly to a Charmer. And last but not least is little Tourmaline: after watching her two older sisters age up, she's finally said her first word to mom Lanuola: "happy"! She's gone from Cautious to Angelic. A quick diaper change before blowing out the candles resulted in her peeing on Lanuola, which ended up with the changing table needing a wash before she could blow out the candles; in the end, Tourmaline's birthday was pushed back just enough that she had to take her first steps during the first monsoon of the season. You'd think she'd be frightened, but Tourmaline decided that she Loves Sounds especially the boom of thunder and the patter of rain; we've got a little storm chaser in the making!

Ophelia heads out to a bar to do a little work early in the morning before the kids wake up. Since it's both Summer Vacation and monsoon season, the family heads out to a children's park in Brindleton Bay to celebrate. Ophelia's midlife crisis dries up almost as soon as they arrive! After some splash time in the kiddie pool, Amethyst decides that she loves sounds, too: the sounds of camera shutters and crowded places. Ruby gets some quality time with mom Lanuola & Bea finds her muse by the sea. Today we've also learned that Tourmaline is a little singer and that Amethyst has beaten the "picky eater" allegations by consuming every food put in front of her. Summer Vacation ends with fireworks and a toddler sleepover on the beach, hosted by big sister Bea.

Ophelia's birthday triggers early Saturday morning, so she knocks back her Potion of Youth in the quiet hours of morning. She takes the chance to reminisce on all that she's accomplished--her art, her fame, the birth of her daughters--and to look forward to what's next; is there further to go with her painting or is it time to hang up her hat, and strike out in a new direction? Over at the toddler sleep over, Tourmaline and Merida wake up with nightmares; good thing big sister Beatrix is right there to comfort them! Bea takes this chance to add some chaos to the mix by declaring Tourmaline her favorite; nobody like that. Merida handles her feelings on the matter by walking off into the sunrise.

In the morning, Lanuola and Ophelia invite over all the neighbors who supported them while they were struggling with the triple infant crisis. They serve them a delicious brunch of bountiful vegetables from their garden to thank them for being the village that raised their daughters. While putting the finishing touches on Ruby's birthday cake, Lanuola receives a surprise phone call: a friend has found her a foot in the door of the Entertainment industry. Putting her corporate days behind her, Lanuola decides to devote herself fully to her passions as a violinist, something that's been on the back-burner until now. Accepting the job means completing her Renaissance Sim Aspiration, so it's onward to Musical Genius!

Bea receives her acceptance letter to University! She's decided to enroll in Foxbury, starting off a Hemming-Byrd family tradition of future Foxbury Alumni. She hopes to study conservation so she can brighten up her island home, just like her moms, so she picks a distinguished degree program in Biology. Her course load is heavy, but she's always been headstrong: she's sure she can take it!

As the sun sets, it's finally time for Ruby's birthday! Mom Lanuola made her a bright pink cake and mom Ophelia is there to help her blow out the candles. After opening the bulk of her presents, everyone offers her a special gift: a hand-craft child's violin from Lanuola, a hand-knitted pink sweater from Ophelia, and Beatrix's hand-me-down bike. Cool! Ruby has grown up into an outgoing little tyke with ambitions to become a social butterfly; she's all geared up to become The Star and leader of the next Generation, but will she get that vital Child of the Islands trait when she turns teen? Or will she eventually leave to forge her own path? (For the record, Ruby aged up with exactly 1 Star in fame; I will be cheating that back if it disappears like Bea's did.)

Little Merida tries use her charm to avoid bedtime but it doesn't work on big sister Bea. The Hummingbird Collective is officially all elders now, except for the Hemming-Byrds. Soon it will be time to refresh the roster and start a new era for the club. Their time in the club was not wasted, though: thanks to Ophelia getting their art placed in galleries across the world, all of the club members have become two star celebrities. Alisha, Fetia, and Wiki have even achieved three star status through their hard work. The only exception is Duane Talla (rest his soul) who preferred to life guard the curb during meetings. Ophelia will miss them sorely when they're gone, but she'll always treasure the memories they had together.

While the club hangs out to paint, Lanuola gets a chance to practice her violin for work this time, finally maxing the skill. With the little ones all tucked up in bed and Beatrix burning the midnight oil getting ahead on her college homework, summer of their third year comes to a close. It's been eventful, with back-to-back birthdays and the birth of four children in the previous season, but Ophelia and Lanuola hope it will be calm seas ahead as their girls get a little older and a little more independent.

(And I, the player, hope that seasons won't need to be split across two posts next season.) You can find the toddler park I used in this post as "Choo-Choo Kids Park" under my gallery ID DreamingTaffy.

[dashodist]

아주 귀여운 고양이 ☆ׅ ֺ 𝗰𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵’ 𝗯𝗼͜𝘅! ❊ ̭͡ 𓃠 ˙ ₊ with a touch of whimsy and a hint of secret, the feline muse exudes an enchanting allure through her captivating gaze. it possesses a delicate depth that seems fragile, yet manages to captivate all.

⁽ ،̲،̲ ̲ 펄쩍펄쩍 뛰다.. ⛥⃞゙ㅤ o’ little bunnyㅤ ∩∩ㅤ𝆬ᥴ𝗎t͜𝖾 ꛆᦢ𝗅𝗅ꪱᧉ 〃 |ㅤ in-tiny check out this super cute double ponytail look! i totally am rocking it with these adorable wisps of hair on each palms. so on-trend, right?

𑁍̸ᅠ️완벽한 여성ᅟ 𝅄 lass in a blush,ᅟ𖤝̷ᅟּᅟbeaming o’ flush.. ⏀̶ is it just me or is there, like, a fierce fire burning in my eyes? and can we talk about this adorable blush on my cheeks? it’s giving me all the feels! so, no matter which one you pick, it’s gonna be lit!

⎯⎯ּ︭ ᅟᅟ그런 모범적인 행동ᅟᅟֻᅟ𖤝̷̶ᅟᅟ( ..picture this: she’s got these amazing bangs and her dark hair is, like, flowing so gracefully. And get this, every single thing about her is just so perfectly enchanting. it’s like she’s casting a spell with just a look. ᅟᅟ𑁍̷̈

𝟷𝟷 : 𝟏̲𝟏̲ㅤ╲ ︰💬 “𝗶 𝗳𝗼͡𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼͜𝗻𝗴!!📱” da͡ncing in the be͜ats o𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 ㅤㅤׄㅤํㅤㅤﹺㅤthe wiggly hand motions and twisty body bends, all in perfect rhythm. when i stumbled upon this tune, oh, how it made me boogie and croon along!

iroha 1 video tiktok.

⏝⊹⏝⏝ ◟ ✢ ◞ ⏝⏝⊹⏝

Thank you for : sna͡tchi͜ng me! ☆