#and she looked at me like I was insane LMAO

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

imagine this.

a gentle and sweet girl is living in her small cottage with her extremely overprotective and powerful (possibly former criminal…) guy who she fixed after some crazy shit and now he’s down bad and obsessed with her. they’re currently living their most peaceful lives after all of the insane crap that they’ve gone through, living their lives hunting and collecting berries and helping injured animals in the woods. they even have a baby girl together, who strongly resembles the father in looks but the mother in personality.

and then one day someone random person ends up outside of their sweet little cottage, injured and unconscious. the girl, being the sweetie that she is, lets them stay and nurses them back to health. but the husband is passive aggressive as fuck and he’s always just like “you’re lucky because im only letting you stay here because of my wife” and he’s sent them so many nasty looks before but instantly switches up the moment his wife is there.

and their kid is also the sweetest fuck ever to the injured person which pisses the husband off so much. but anyways the injured person is shocked because they’ve heard stories of the two of them because of all of the adventures they’ve had, and while the husband is just gloating and being so stupidly prideful and annoying about it, the wife is just like “oh, that was all in the past” and the husband just side eyes her like what the fuck??? you literally said “i can fix him” about me and was successful about it too during our journeys together??? was that all nothing to you???

and then they a second child enters the wife that night.

———

thought of evajacks (ouabh) while writing this lmao

[calebslittleapple]

feels like home: sticky fingers

After a few weeks apart, Caleb reconnects with his Pip-squeak, only to find that she's pretty beaten up after a mission. Fortunately, Caleb knows exactly what to do to take care of his girl. From one moment to the next, everything changes, and what starts as an innocent interaction quickly evolves into something else entirely... two-shot, post club-interactions, but can be read as a standalone as well (though, this is part of my feels like home series).

Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)

Genre: Smut (with feelings); chapter one is M, chapter two is E; 18+

CW: Codependency; Pip-squeak as an endearment; MC is named "Emme" short for "Emme Sea" lmao; Finger Sucking; sensual massage; Vaginal Fingering; humping

Also on AO3

Chapter 1/2

After that dizzying night at the club, things settle back into the same old, same old, mostly because work’s been insane for both of them. At least, that’s what Caleb’s telling himself.

Naturally, he can’t stop thinking, feeling, reeling over the memory of his sweet girl, his beloved Pip-squeak, coming apart in his arms. Along with that, the way she’d woken early the day after, slipped from bed and made him breakfast.

That was normally his role to fall back into, but it was a domestic kind of sublime to walk into her kitchen, and see her standing there, cooking bacon, while wearing one of his t-shirts—old, stretched out, and way, way too big for her.

Caleb couldn’t put his finger on why, but he liked the way she looked in his clothes. Felt a bit like she was wrapped up in him. The possessive pieces of his heart shifted upon seeing her there, ever so slightly falling into place as if a simple moment like that could make his fractured heart whole once more.

They didn’t talk about what happened, because, of course, they didn’t. But she was different. A little surer in her touch and teasing. Hands lingered as the food was shared between them. Her eyes fell on his lips, the line of his neck, the broad stretch of his chest, which was purposefully emphasized by the two-sizes-too-small tank top he was wearing.

He flexed some, and she noticed that too. What was the point of having a physique like his, if not to show it off to the one person he’d crafted it for? Judging from the way her chewing stopped and how her eyes lingered, his many, many hours spent working out weren’t going to waste.

“See something you like, Pip-squeak?” he teased, but his voice was raspier than he’d thought it would be. Catching her staring was painfully intoxicating.

“Hmm?” she replied while shaking her head a bit. “What did you say?”

Caleb huffed out a laugh. “Pass the syrup.”

Picking up the nearby vessel, Emme quietly cursed as some of the sticky liquid sloshed over the edge and onto her fingers. After setting the syrup down, she stood and started to turn toward the sink, but Caleb caught her up in his gravity before she could move away.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

Shifting on her feet, she cocked her head at him, and Caleb couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes fluttered, just a little, as he let his power roll over her before pulling back.

Caleb held his hand out for hers. “Let me see.”

She swallowed, looked at her sticky fingers, and immediately focused on his lips. Caleb’s mouth curved into a knowing smile, which earned him a pretty pout.

“You’re terrible,” she breathed but held her hand out, anyway.

“Oh, c’mon, Pip-squeak,” he murmured, his warm hand gently skimming along the length of her forearm before curling around her wrist. “I know you like it when I’m bad.”

Her lips parted with a soft sigh that sounded anything but perturbed, pink tongue flicking out to lick her lips as her actions betrayed her thoughts.

“What are you going to do…?”

“You don’t know?” he asked while leaning closer to her hand, slow enough that she could pull back if she wanted.

He needed to prove something to himself, needed to prove that it wasn’t just the alcohol or the strange anonymity of that seedy club. Caleb needed to know that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

He could see it now, in the way she stood there, legs spread just a touch too wide, as if she was imagining what it might be like to fall into his lap and straddle his waist. Or maybe it was in how her hips switched, swaying almost the same way they had while she’d ground herself into his thigh the night before.

No, it was definitely in how glassy her eyes looked and the pretty flush on her cheeks. There was no alcohol coloring this interaction. What other places on her body would flush, he wondered. The tips of her nipples? The soft skin at the juncture between her legs and thighs? What about her ass? As decadently formed as it was, would her ass look even better with a bite mark… or two?

Caleb could feel himself growing hard in his gray sweatpants but was marginally relieved that he wouldn’t need to reach down and adjust himself this time. No distractions. Just her eyes locked on his as he pulled her hand closer and closer.

She didn’t gasp when he sucked her fingers into his mouth—index and middle; warm, sticky, and sweet. No, what she did was much, much worse than that.

Watching for every single reaction, Caleb swirled his tongue before delivering a long, soft suck, and his girl took in a halting breath, fluttered her fingers in his mouth, and fucking whimpered his name.

“C-Caleb!”

Broken, halting, haunting. He wanted to hear her say it again. To hear her say it while he pressed into her from above, while his head disappeared between her thighs, while he did every single thing he’d ever dreamed about doing to her, but dared not do.

They were growing closer and closer to the day when they would dare, and he was doing his best to be patient. He’d draw out every moment so when that day did come, when she finally gave in to her desires and realized that everything she’d been wanting was right before her eyes, it would be after he so thoroughly seduced her that she’d never think of denying either of them.

Ever. Again.

Caleb wasn’t a patient man, but he could play pretend with the best of them. For her, he would make the planet collapse in on itself if she but asked. But all she needed right now was patience and time. As his tongue swirled and his mouth pulled, he lingered there, and let her think of all the other places on her body that would feel oh so good if he ever got his lips, teeth, and tongue on them.

And he would. But, for that moment, he let her go and was not so secretly smug about the sweetly blissed-out look on her face, and the way she stumble-sat into her chair before picking at her food again, desperate to look somewhere, anywhere but at the face of the man she knew the best, and needed the most.

Weeks flew by. She texted, same as always. She called, and he answered on the second ring, same as always. But where once Caleb could soothe himself with the knowledge that he’d be able to see her soon enough, now he is consumed with the memories of their interactions and, more to the point, her reactions.

The clothes she left at his place for use during her visits no longer smell like her, likely because he spends most nights with his face wrapped up in them. The only peaceful rest he’s able to get is when she’s near. When he knows she’s safe. Now, her shirt and shorts just smell like him, and as much as he enjoys leaving his scent all over her space, he wants the same for his home.

Logically, Caleb knows that Linkon is a safer place for her, for a multitude of reasons, but the greedy, dark spaces of his heart want to keep her high in the sky, in Skyhaven with him. He’s smart enough to know how to keep her safe at his apartment. God, he’s done it before. But as good as it makes him feel to know without a doubt that she is safe, he can’t stand the look in her eye at that particular betrayal.

Just one more sin for the consummate sinner. But with her, ahh… It feels like he can find absolution in her arms. No matter how dark he gets, his girl will always be there to pull him back into the light. She promised him, just as he’d promised to always be there with him.

Finally, when Caleb thinks he’s at his wits’ end, he gets a text from Emme asking if he wants to meet up at her place on the weekend. Naturally, he agrees. Even if he didn’t have the time off, he’d have figured something out. He’s so excited about it that he decides to surprise her the night before, which isn’t uncommon for him.

So, with snacks and an overnight bag in hand, he lets himself into her apartment and waits for her to get back home from work. From how she tells it, she’s been overtime on something important. Caleb did some digging and managed to find out it had something to do with Wanderers convening just outside of the city limits.

It’s miserable work, as important as it is, and he worries because that’s who he is. Caleb wouldn’t be Caleb if he wasn’t worrying about his Pip-squeak. He’s just wired that way. And this time, he’s right to be concerned because when she finally gets back to her apartment at just after 2 a.m., she stumbles in.

Of course, she’s not entirely surprised that he’s there—who else would be watching movies this late in her living room, who else would know the security code to her suite, and who else would show up unannounced, like him—but she looks put out, all the same.

He watches her for a moment longer as she pauses at the entrance to her home, leaning against the doorframe as she breathes deep, head hanging heavy, body drooping… He’s moving before she can fall, her body pitching forward into his strong body instead of the floor.

“Whoa, Pip-squeak! What’s wrong?”

She looks up at him, and the dark smudges under her eyes, along with the scrapes on her cheeks and neck tell him everything he needs to know.

“Caleb.” One word spoken, half annoyance, half supplication. It’s all he needs. A moment longer, and she’s swept up into his arms.

“Let’s get you washed, dried, and cared for,” he says, sounding more competent and put together than he feels. In truth, his heart is pounding in his chest, and it’s taking everything he has not to drive over to the Hunter’s Association and ream out whoever is responsible for putting her in the situation that got her in this state.

Not that he’d dare leave her now.

He carries her through the small space of her apartment and walks them both into the bathroom. Her bathroom is cramped on a good day, and with the two of them in there, it’s even worse. She bats at his hands and tries to tell him she can manage on her own.

“I’m not a child.”

“Of course you aren’t, but you’re still my girl. How could I live with myself if I left you alone now? What if you fell in the shower, or worse?”

She frowns, but some of the roughness of that expression is smoothed away as she thinks about it.

“You owe me, then.”

“Oh?”

“Next time you get sick. You call me. You let me in. No excuses.”

Caleb sighs. Of course, she’d bargain for something like that. It’s not in his nature to show weakness, least of all to her, but he’d promise just about anything and mean it to keep her happy.

“Deal. Now, strip.”

She blushes at that, only for her lips to frown again.

“What?”

As Caleb eases her from his arms, she’s unsteady on her feet. “I really… just don’t think I can.”

“Need some help?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but very much feeling like his heart is going to explode.

“Promise not to get mad?”

“No.”

“Caleb!” she exclaims while giving him a halfhearted shove. “There’s just a few scrapes. And I’m sure I’ll be bruised tomorrow. But it’s nothing major, okay?”

“Okay. But you’re going to let me treat your injuries.”

She pouts. “Fine, but it’s mostly just… really sore muscles. I think a Wanderer was trying to tear my spine out…”

He hates the sound of that but manages to transfer some of his anger to the fastenings of her clothes, quickly and efficiently stripping the layers of her outfit from her body until she’s standing there in nothing more than her underthings and the bracelet he gave her.

He loves that no matter where she goes, she’s got a piece of him with her, but he keeps that bit of information to himself. She already has his heart. Any more leverage and she’ll have him following her like a puppy… more than he already does, that is.

Caleb tries to be level-headed about this, but it’s a challenge given how very fuckin’ long he’s dreamed about seeing her like this, albeit in very different circumstances. Still, he loves her, loves her more than he longs for her, even, so he schools his features, wills his body to calm down, and has his Evol prop her up while guiding her roughed-up body into the shower.

And though it’s strange, and not entirely logical, Caleb swears he can feel her pressing back into his gravitational touch, leaning into his power as he works to support her and not lose his damn mind. Maybe it has something to do with her Resonance. God knows it wouldn’t be the first time that their shared connection bridged the gap between fantasy and reality.

Once the shower curtain is closed, his power slips away, leaving her to stand on her own two feet.

“You good?”

“I’ve got the wall,” she says with a sigh. “Can you help me after I’m done?”

“Of course.”

She manages to take off the rest of her clothes. They fall to the floor of her shower with a soft thump.

“Want me to grab ‘em?”

“Everything’s filthy,” she admits. “Guts and blood and gore. I think I’m gonna burn them.”

Caleb chuckles and shakes his head. He’ll get the gore out for her. He’s good at that. Listening attentively, he makes sure to check in with her as she bathes. Truthfully, she’s sounding better, at least, until a soft hiss sounds from behind the curtain.

“Everything alright, Pip-squeak?”

“Just a very, very sore muscle.”

The water stops, and she gingerly peeks her head out from behind the curtain. She’s adorably drenched, and every part of him is itching with the need to care for her. He’s pleased to note that most of the blood is washed away, and doesn’t seem to belong to her.

Guts and blood and gore, indeed.

“I got a towel ready,” he says, spreading it out and turning his head so she can step out of the shower without having to worry about him leering.

Caleb swears she snickers at him, but she ducks into his arms and lets him wrap her in the towel, just the same. She’s swallowed up by an excess of plush fabric, with only her feet and head peeking out from the edges.

It almost reminds him of when she was young, and how after playing with the sprinkler and tiring herself out in the summer sun, she’d complain about being cold, only for Caleb to wrap her up in a towel and help her dry off.

Well, he’s not that boy anymore, and she’s certainly not that girl, and what they are to each other is so much more than childhood friends.

Still, he tugs at the edge of the towel and lifts it so that he’s better covering her neck. “Can you turn around? I’ll dry your hair.”

“The blow dryer is—”

“Beneath the sink, I know.”

With everything ready, he first works at detangling her hair with her paddle brush. Her work’s made a mess of her hair, but he’s good at this—the best, actually. He has to be because the last thing he wants is to cause her any more pain.

After her hair is detangled and pulled back, he slowly runs the blow dryer over it while combing it on low heat. He’d hate to damage her hair. Once her hair is mostly dry, he quickly pulls it into a braid. Another thing that he’s quite good at.

“Hair ties?”

She holds up her wrist.

“Hair ties that haven’t gone through hell and back?” he clarifies while tugging the band from her wrist and throwing it in the trash.

“Medicine cabinet.”

He gets what he needs, ties off her hair, and picks her up again. This time, she squawks a little, but he gently rubs his lips against the top of her head and softly begs, “Please? Let me help.”

And mollified by his words or his actions, she settles and lets her head fall against his shoulder. It doesn’t take long to get to her bedroom, the door of which he gently nudges open with his power.

Caleb settles her on the bed and walks over to her dresser. “What d’ya wanna wear?”

“Mmm, I have some clothes ready in the top drawer.”

Pulling open the heavy wooden drawer, Caleb is surprised to recognize her clothes as his. “I was wearing this the last time I visited.”

“Yeah, your clothes are comfier than mine.”

“The shorts aren’t mine,” he points out.

“Your shorts would slide down my legs. The shirt is big, but it’s sooo nice to sleep in.”

As Caleb tugs the shirt and shorts closer, he can’t help but notice that it still smells faintly of his scent.

“Didn’t you wash this, Pip-squeak?” he drawls.

“Oh. No…” She sounds embarrassed, and he’s just about to tease her for always leaving her dirty laundry for him to do when she soundly sucker-punches him with what she says next. “It still smells like you… So… that’s why.”

That soft admission has the air retreating from his lungs in a wicked rush, words hitting with precision impact. Caleb doesn’t turn to face her. He can’t. His fist is tightly clenched around his shirt—the one that smells like him—his eyes are closed, and his breathing is so erratic that he needs to take a moment to calm himself.

Of course, he keeps her clothes at his bedside when she’s not in his home, but to hear she does the same—no, that she wears clothes that smell like him to bed—makes him feel fucking feral. He is not a good man. Far from it. He is who he needs to be so that he can keep her safe.

But when the reality of her words hits, it shifts his intentions for the evening entirely. He’d meant to put her to bed with a heating pad after checking for wounds, and then go to make her something to eat. Now she’d be lucky if he let her sleep at all.

“Where’s that massage oil that Tara got you?”

“How do you know about that?!” she balks.

“She was bragging about it at your birthday party. She’s remarkably chatty when she’s been drinking.” Tara was remarkably chatty all the time, but she got downright obscene with alcohol. Caleb got the sense that she was intentionally making him aware of the oil, almost as if she was giving him a not-so-subtle nudge.

As if any of this was up to him. Still, the knowledge came in handy. He’s feeling not the least bit smug about it, at least, until she hits him with another jab. “It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.”

Caleb closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and specifically does not think about what that likely means.

He clears his throat, but his voice is still rough when he finally manages to ask, “Can you dress yourself?”

“I can manage. But what are you going to do with the oil?”

Caleb shakes his head, turns, and fixes her with a look. “Massage your legs, silly girl. You could barely stand earlier. They’re gonna be hellish in the morning if you don’t take care of them now.”

“You’d do that for me?” she asks, cheeks still flushed from her shower, and towel wrapped tight. She looks good enough to eat, and Caleb expects that if he doesn’t somewhat sate the beast inside of him, he’s going to make a meal of her sooner rather than later.

Caleb stands before her, bunches her shirt—his shirt—up, and slides the top over her head. “Can you manage the rest?”

She nods, and he turns around to give her some privacy. “The shorts?”

“I can manage,” she replies, but her groans make his stomach twist with concern.

“They’re working you too hard.”

“My job is hard. This is what I signed up for.”

“Then you need to do a better job of taking care of yourself during your days off.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“I think ‘Daddy’ would be more fitting.”

“Caleb!” she squeaks. “Don’t say things like that.” But she certainly doesn’t sound as scandalized as she should…

“All right, all right. I’m sorry. You finished?”

“…Yeah, I got it.”

Caleb turns, tilts his head, and gives her a look. Her hair’s messed up now from the shirt, and she looks tired. A perfect pout greets his smile.

“Poor baby,” he softly croons. “Lay back and let me take care of you.”

He can see her swallow at that, like she’s having a hard time making her vocal cords work. “You’re just taking advantage of my weakness.”

“Naturally. How else am I gonna get you to understand that you need me?”

She huffs at that. “You need me just as much as I need you, Caleb.”

He snorts softly, teeth pressing into his tongue, before he softly admits, “You have no idea… Now, no more stalling.”

Caleb points to the bed, and she dutifully scoots back onto the sheets, albeit slowly and with effort. He manages to dig out the oil from her dresser and pointedly ignores literally everything else that’s hidden away in there because he won’t be able to behave if he does otherwise.

“I guess I should have grabbed the oil,” she starts to say.

He frowns. “Why?”

“Oh… never mind.”

“Something you don’t want me to see in there?”

She nibbles her lip, eyes fluttering softly as she murmurs, “Maybe… maybe not.”

The look she gives him is so coy and tempting that his mind goes completely blank and he utterly forgets what the hell he’d been in the middle of doing. At least, until she points to the oil.

“Are you gonna massage my legs or…?”

“Yeah… yeah. Right. Roll over, Pip-squeak. Lemme see where it hurts.”

She rolls over and Caleb’s eyes trail reverently over the length of her legs. She looks good. Too good. He hates that her coworkers get to even see a measure of this. Of course, he knows it’s insane to want to be the only one who can appreciate her, but his greedy heart feels it just the same.

“You been workin’ out more lately?”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Things look… tight,” he rasps, voice betraying his interest and desire.

Her reply is soft and teasing. “Someone did make me join that squat challenge last month. And here, I thought you had ulterior motives, but you’re acting all surprised.”

Caleb coughs to cover up some of his embarrassment and dispel a measure of his lust. Yeah, he had gotten her to agree to that challenge. Honestly, he’d been grasping for things to say, because he caught her right after a workout and the fine mist of sweat on her brow, along with the gorgeous flush in her cheeks, had him thinking of exercise of a different kind.

And here she’d taken him seriously.

“Gonna be as strong as me soon,” he manages while stepping closer to the bed. Her legs are spread on either side of him, and for one long moment, he doesn’t know what to do, or where to look next.

“Doubt it. Your legs are too long, and your thighs are too strong.”

“Been thinking about my thighs, baby?”

He’s teasing, sweet, and he means to catch her off guard, but she hits back so hard as she replies, “Yeah, your thighs… and other parts of your anatomy.”

Caleb sighs, long and hard. Says a prayer for courage to whoever happens to be listening, the Gods of the earth and the sea and space, or otherwise, and then, he gets to work. He kneels on the floor at the edge of the bed, and he’s tall enough that this gives him a good vantage point. He knows exactly what he wants to do next, and he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

 “Tell me if it hurts.”

~~~

Author’s Note:

Sorry, this was so big that I had to cut it into two chapters because I hate editing and I got busy with other stuff. I’ll post the other chapter tomorrow, so you can have something to enjoy (I hope) over the weekend. The second part is spicier :D

I listened to the hipsterist hipster music for this one to get me into the right headspace, please enjoy haha. Also somewhat inspired by what has to have been the most painful massage I’ve ever had in my LIFE (did not have the same ending, there was only pain lmao, but I was like hmm maybe Caleb would be good at massages for MC, and then, PAIN). Also Deeply inspired by that secret times where Caleb takes care of MC when she’s sick. Like GOD DAMN, Caleb. “You’re worried I’ll spoil you rotten. Too late for that!” ??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

Also, not that it matters in the slightest, but I wrote this before I learned it’s canon that she likes to keep his clothes around (and wear them???) because they smell like him. They’re just really transparent with how fucking down bad these two are for each other lmao.

Still really fucking obsessed here, guys. Chokehold, I think is a good way to put it. Caleb is a mf bias wrecker, like oh my literal GOD. I swear, some of these are gonna be from MC’s pov, but I’m working through some SHIT rn lol.

I also gave the MC a little name, “Emme” which is short for Emme Sea lmao. I have a challenging time with writing y/n or like using second person present tense. No judgment or anything like that, it just makes it hard for me to think of the characters properly when I’m writing them. ANYWAY, I’ll use it sparingly, but sometimes, it’s just better to have a name lol.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading! And extra hugs for anyone who left a comment. You are the apple of my eye, and thank you for giving me a space to channel this whatever it is? Obsession lmao. I’ve got a few other interludes planned (shower), and I’m taking requests (on tumblr), so either give this/me a follow, or check up on my tumblr :) If you enjoyed, I’d love to hear from you! Or feel free to share with a friend, if you’re lucky enough to have some Caleb-obsessed friends haha.

Don’t forget! I'll be posting any updates as installments (not chapters), so be sure to sub to the series or my user name to get updates on ao3, or just check my tumblr, i'll post here too♥️🍎

[sleepypanda01]

CB theories/thoughts part 5 (Did Prunella's mom actually buy the second key from the flea market?)

After overthinking a bit a thought occurred to me.

Was Goldie indeed the key that we saw at the flea market with Bronze? Was Prunella's mom the one who actually bought the other key? Where am I trying to get at, you may ask. Well, if we take a look at the second key and the key in the craft box of prunella's mom, doesn't the colour seem a bit different? (Or it is just me,I could have sworn they looked a bit different for a second, but it could be the lighting) The second key in the market looks greenish while Goldie looks light brownish when covered in dirt (if you look hard enough? lmao😭)

Also when we take a look at the back of Goldie we see that the dirt is not in the same places as in the key in the market. But what is more is that their keyrings also seem to have a different colour. The keyrings of the keys in the market are dark while the keyring of Goldie is of a lighter colour.

What is weird is that the seller says he doesn't remember who he sold it to, but Prunella's mom has a very unique style. You would think that a woman who dresses as if she came out of a fairy tale would be memorable enough. 

you're telling me he would not remember this woman?

Then when Chase wonders who bought the key we see a bunch of Shadow of people, you could think that it is not important and they are just shadows meant to depict unimportant characters that we will never see again, unless not really. Next to Chase's bubble of asking who bought the other key there is a shadow who kinda looks like one of Chase's friends. 

(It is more believable that the seller forgot who bought they key if it was this dude lol)

Maybe the answer to who bought the key was all along right in front of Chase (or well, behind him at that moment cause his back was turned lol). 

If Goldie and the key in the market are not the one and the same,how did Agatha acquire Goldie? Why is he in her possession? Well the same goes for the market guy, why did he have two keys? In previous parts I theorized about people being connected to Ex Libris but having no memory of it due to someone's involvement. They both seem to be unaware of what is the keys' true worth. Going back to my theory in part 4 where I mention that the old man is missing 4 keys, if we accept the theory of the market key not being Goldie for the sake of theorising, then market key is the fourth missing key. 

If that's true then here are the possible missing keys and their (possible) keyholders:

1) missing key: Bronze ,keyholder : Deacon 

2) missing key : Goldie, keyholder: Prunella

3) missing key: villain key,keyholder: Simon?

4) missing key: unknown identity but since it looks so much like Goldie the metal could be brass, and if we look at the paper with all the key symbols there's a crown near the sun and opposite of the apple which is Bronze’s symbol and he was found in the market with some other key, mind you.

 Deacon also mentioned some key roles when they were trying to figure out what key prunella had and he mentioned the ruler key. 

So if I had to guess which symbol the ruler key has I would say the crown because a crown defines rulers and the role has similarities to the hero whose symbol is close to it. And if I had to guess the keyholder, I would say Chase's friend whose name I am not sure is mentioned.

So to summarize, the missing keys are the following:

Bronze, the helper key

Goldie, the hero key

The villain Key

The ruler key

Bonus detail: in my previous post I said that Simon might have put up the reward poster but it could have been the other friend too since the posters started appearing a few days later after the flea market day. Besides, birds of the feather flock together and either of Chase’s friends could have the same idea as him and put up posters.

Honestly, out of all the theories I have come up with, this is the most insane one, but the keys at the market were turned around so we could not see their symbols and this could have been on purpose, so who knows? 

[astars-things]

video game bingo

Vinnie hacker x reader

It started as a joke. Just a little something to keep myself entertained while Vinnie streamed for hours on end, lost in the world of League of Legends. I had crafted my own little "Vinnie Hacker Stream Bingo" card, filled with all his signature habits.

Moans when frustrated? Check.

Pops a Zyn? Oh, that’s an easy one.

Hits the desk? That’s a free space.

The list went on, and every time he streamed, I’d fill in a new card, never quite managing to hit a full row. But tonight? Tonight was different.

I curled up on the couch behind him, out of frame but close enough to hear the familiar sounds of his game. His chair was slightly turned toward the monitor, fingers flying over the keyboard as his brows furrowed in concentration. I grinned, marker in hand, watching the inevitable unfold.

First, it was the moan—one of those deep, frustrated groans he let out whenever someone on his team made a dumb play. My marker swooped across the square.

A few minutes later, I heard the unmistakable sound of him cracking open his Zyn tin. Another check.

His chat was spamming messages, probably roasting him, but I was locked in, watching like a hawk. Then it happened—an unfortunate team fight, an ult gone wrong, and Vinnie smacked his desk with the flat of his palm. The sound echoed in the room. My breath hitched as I realized I was one square away from victory.

I was practically bouncing in my seat now, waiting for that final piece to fall into place. And then, as if the universe itself wanted me to win, he leaned into his mic, groaning, "Dude, How is he not dead. This game is so bad."

I gasped dramatically, slammed my marker down, and shot up from my seat.

“BINGO!”

Vinnie’s chair froze mid-rock, his head snapping toward me, brows knit together in complete confusion.

“Wait… what?”

His chat was already going insane. Messages flooded in:

“OMG SHE FINALLY DID IT.” “THE BINGO QUEEN.” “VINNIE LOOK AT THE PAPER.”

He rolled his chair over to me, still looking lost. “What do you mean, bingo?”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing and held up my paper, proudly displaying my masterpiece. His eyes scanned the words—

Moans Pops a Zyn Hits the desk Complains about the game Says ‘how is not dead'

Vinnie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Ain’t no way you made a bingo card of my stream habits.”

I grinned, tapping the page. “You do this literally every time. I was bound to win eventually.”

His chat was now fully invested, spamming messages like “Make this a drinking game” and “Vinnie is so predictable lmao.” He shook his head, turning back to his mic.

“Chat, I feel betrayed,” he said, though his smirk betrayed him. “My own girlfriend is out here farming content off me.”

I leaned into frame just enough for chat to see my smug expression. “Don’t hate the player, babe. Hate the game.”

He let out a groan but couldn’t stop smiling. “I swear, I can’t do anything without you making a game out of it.”

I shrugged. “Keeps me entertained while you spend hours yelling at your screen.”

Vinnie chuckled, finally returning to his game, but not before tossing a playful glare over his shoulder. “Next time, I’m switching it up. You’ll never get bingo again.”

I just smirked, already planning my next card. “We’ll see about that.”

my first vinnie hacker fic hope you guys like it x

[dr-spectre]

Idk man kinda feels like u hate marie

What?

What gave you the impression that I HATE Marie? Hate is a strong word. I'm a Callie fan, why would i blindly hate on Marie? I do tend to be harsh towards Marie because guess what, SHES A FLAWED CHARACTER! ESPECIALLY IN SPLATOON 1 AND 2! OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN THE SHIT SHE SAYS TO CALLIE IN THE AMERICAN VERSIONS OF THESE GAMES?!?!?!?!

And you know what? It's a good thing that she's flawed, because she learns to grow up and be more mature in Splatoon 3. It's where she's less mean and more upbeat, which is a stark contrast to her making jokes about Callie's disappearance/hypnosis and "stupidity." (I know Marie does care about Callie but some of her jokes are fucking INSANE)

These are some of my favourite images in the entire franchise for a reason.

It's why I love Blushing Tide so much. It's why I love watching those two perform in the Grand Festival. Its why i love seeing Callie being physically affectionate towards Marie because it shows that she trusts her a lot and loves her deeply as a cousin. I cannot just hate Marie when I love Callie and hating on Marie would be stupid of me.

Just look at these two man. LOOK AT EM!!!! I CANT HATE CALLIE'S COUSIN!!!

I relate to Marie too, I relate to her overthinking and spiraling when she was going through a tough time before Splatoon 2, I relate to her hatred of tomatoes, pineapple pizza and the rest. I relate to her "lazy" personality and wanting to stay indoors than go out. Sure i hate myself a lot, but I'm not gonna project that on a sexy squid lady, like come on now.

I wrote a fucking cringey Marie x Shiver fanfic that will never see the light of day (unless someone sends me 10 thousand bucks lmao.) I HAD TO WRITE MARIE AND I LIKE WRITING HER!!!

If I had to make a tier list of the Idols, she would be in B or A tier dude. I like Marie. I love Callie more obviously but that's due to personal reasons and other things.

[the-1sttaste]

do you guys ever think about paul getting married on julia's birthday

like ok maybe it was just a coincidence but it explains john's reaction to me bcuz yeah of course he'd be going insane trying to get married w yoko 2 days later in paris *of all places* (and failing) and then actually doing it in gibraltar a week after... just saying

March, 12th.

I really don’t remember whether or not I invited any of the band to the wedding. Why not? I’m a total bastard, I suppose – I don’t know, really. Maybe it was because the group was breaking up. We were all pissed off with each other. We certainly weren’t a gang any more. That was the thing. Once a group’s broken up like that, that’s it. - Paul McCartney, in Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now, by Barry Miles, 1998

John, George and Ringo weren’t at the wedding, which might have been because of the tensions of the time, or because we decided to do it quickly. It seems like an important point now but it wasn’t at the time – it was just the two of us wanting to get married quietly. My dad wasn’t there either – I’m not sure he was pleased with me about that, but my best excuse was that it was the spirit of the times. We didn’t want a big fuss. - Paul McCartney, Wingspan, 2002

also i remember yoko saying john got inside the car, mad as hell and told her they were getting married and she (according to herself in that thing i saw) was like ... yea ok, like he didnt even ask so it wasnt a proposal at all, i cant find it tho but i've read it a lot of times, also prior to this there's the apple employee's version where john got in, saw like a zine or a newspaper or smt and got so mad he said he was gonna fire whoever did that lmao bc it was a pic of paul w linda announcing/congratulating them for their marriage and then he wrote things and I SWEAR it's real bcuz i did some deep research back when i found about it but i dont know how to look it up

[peofun1]

Compiling Metaphor Refantazio humans and their Hieronymus Bosch inspirations

Enemy spoilers up through 7/17 on the in-game calendar

far from complete, since I'm nowhere near done with the game yet, but these are all the funny little guys I've managed to find the inspirations for! I've put the enemy's names and the names of the Bosch paintings in the alt text for each image.

I highly recommend checking out Bosch's paintings, for these guys and the many other fantastical and macabre creatures in his works. it's kind of like a game of I-spy, lol

enemies I was NOT able to find a 1-to-1 inspiration for under the cut. if anyone out there HAS spotted a better match for these ones, feel free to add on!

so I couldn't find a good match for the big terrible baby, unfortunately. best I can say is that Bosch tends to paint a lot of creatures that are just a human head on legs.

same goes for the giant sandworm; I couldn't find anything even remotely similar even after scouring through every Bosch painting (and some sketches!) I could find. it feels inspired by The Garden of Earthly Delights, but I didn't see anything that really resembled this thing.

but again, if anyone knows of a better match for either of these, I'd love to see it!

[chimchiri]

gideon & harrow OR rd and sf as cowboys please please please

It's the cowgirl necro and her gunslinger cav! Who is so damn extra she's got three guns: one left, one right, and one in pole position! (She swears the ladies love it!)

[queerofthedagger]

One thing I think about a lot is that when Nargothrond falls, it is heavily implied that as good as everyone perished or, if not, got captured. Like, unlike with the Fall of Doriath, there is no mention at all of any refugees removing to the Mouth of Sirion - and yet, I assume that is very likely where Celebrimbor, at least, went? I definitely think he would have fought, but clearly he survived and neither Doriath nor Gondolin really were an option for him, and I doubt even more that he would have gone back to his family.

And there are a lot of implications to all that, but maybe the one that keeps me up most is that this means he would have likely been there when the refugees of Doriath arrived, when they told of what his family did. That his father is dead. What would he have been thinking? What would the survivors of Doriath been thinking? Like, I know there were technically several different camps to some extent, but I doubt they would have been wholly separate, especially upon arrival. What kind of horror to find someone who looks just like one of those guys who just slaughtered your friends and family. What kind of horror to look like someone who just committed such horrors.

He also would have been there when the third kinslaying occurred, or at least very close to it. What an experience, to end up on the other side of it. To see exactly what might have become of him had he not foresworn his father years ago, and also to see yet again what became of his family. Like yeah, everything before/during the Nargothrond Disaster would have already been formative for him and his future choices, but I do feel even being in the vicinity of all of that would have been such a dire reinforcement of all those convictions and reasons that made him disavow them in the first place. And especially in terms of the third kinslaying, it's also why I personally really doubt that there is a chance at any kind of reconciliation with any of the brothers, whether it's his father or I don't know, Maedhros or Maglor. Like, I just don't think there is any coming back fromt hat, really, if there ever was.

[vaguely-concerned]

It's really interesting that Wynne actually has quite a measured, bordering on downright sympathetic response to hearing what Jowan did in the prologue -- if the mage Warden says "I still can't believe Jowan was that stupid", her answer is something like a thoughtful "Stupid, or desperate, or merely curious?". She seems to think of Jowan as a kid who got in over his head, rather than any less charitable interpretation. I do believe she genuinely is as against blood magic as she publicly expresses and as the Circle party line demands, but as a private person she clearly has a more nuanced and potentially kinder understanding of the reasons why someone might resort to it, at the very least.

(related: when she says that part about Irving telling her what happened, there's no dialogue option in the first stage of the conversation (except choosing the 'leaving the conversation' one) that doesn't net you +2 approval! no matter how the warden feels about it, she is ready to recieve it. I think that says something sweet about how Wynne conceptualizes younger mages and the honest real affection she has for them. if you didn't snitch on jowan and say you stand by that decision, though? +3 approval, apparently! what Wynne says and what Wynne thinks is not always the same thing indeed, her idea of where personal loyalty and integrity stands vis-a-vis a mage's responsibility to the circle may be more flexible than she'd have people believe, you'll be surprised to learn lol)

I have always liked wynne and found her interesting, in all her hypocrisies and her earnest care, but with slightly older eyes she's extra fascinating to me in the same ways that Iron Bull is -- seeing someone whose mind has had hollows carved out in it by the need for double-think and compartmentalization imposed by the oppressive systems and ideologies they live under, and the quiet fight of the self to still preserve vital parts of itself that the system deems unacceptable in the hidden backstage areas of the soul, as it were. (and for both of them part of that self is love and protectiveness of specific other people, beyond what their 'role' dictates is acceptable for them.) I think Wynne has managed to sneak more of her internal self through the meatgrinder relatively intact than Bull overall, but it's the same logic underlying it, for me, and it makes me feel such intense affection and compassion for them both to see how hard they try

[angelmush]

tis the season !

[theprincessandthepie]

LOOK AT HERRRRRRR <3333333

[yakkety-yak-art]

liking Spock’s parents is so funny bcuz it’s like, amanda and sarek: power couple. hopelessly in love. icons. i adore them. Also who the fuck let them have a child if these two were real i would hate them.

(this post is specifically abt journey to babel)

[sieglinde-freud]

ive probably talked about it before but there is obviously an inherent tragedy when it comes to the awakening second gen that is present in all of their characters, but some of them are definitely more comic relief-y than others? which is fine but i think the funniest thing ever is the devs making inigo fire emblem almost entirely a gimmick haha funny character (with like. TWO exceptions in his supports and those two exceptions are literally just his parents) and then realizing “hey people kinda like this guy. lets switch it up a bit for the dlc” and then made like. the best character in the world. like who knew all people needed to enjoy the womanizer trope was to drop him in situations where flirting was no longer an option. then come fates hes like a whole different guy (in a good way!) which, yes you can chalk up to him growing up, but theres a clear difference in how he was written and how selena and odin were written in the same guy and you can just see how the writers were like “holy shit we struck gold with this one” like its crazy hes crazy hes my favorite guy in the world. AND HES STILL FUNNY

[shima-draws]

So my roommate is also into One Piece. I’m not sure if he’s watched any of the anime, I know for sure he’s watched the live action, but earlier tonight he came upstairs and watched a few episodes with me while waiting for a food delivery, and then he got hooked, and then he sat and watched MORE episodes with me without really knowing what was going on. But it was still wildly entertaining to him, esp since I’m right in the middle of one of the (arguably) best arcs rn, and now he wants to finish the arc with me LOL. NOBODY is immune to One Piece propaganda. Or Bon-chan 🥰

[great-tusk]

I need her so that she and Turtwig can sit on my shelf and I can come over and give her a little kiss on the top of her head when I’m too stressed to sleep.