#carousel money box

[yourcoffeeguru]

Vintage Money Box CAROUSEL Fine Quality Silver plate || swtradepost

[be-good-to-bugs]

:D

[crabsnpersimmons]

an update on the crazy idea i mentioned: i have started on the paper prototype

+chopsticks

+lazy susan

+little gremlin helper? (he's more of a distraction, he keeps giggling and creeping about and asking me what makes me so special?)

the tl;dr: i had the crazy idea of making a small model carousel to display my DCA pins on. and since i'm having a bit of an artblock, this will provide a good break for me.

also apologies for the delay on replying to asks! you're all so sweet and your messages always brighten my day. i will get to you as soon as i can! i'm just arting a little slower as of late :')

longer explanation under the cut

so i ordered the youtooz dca pins because i earn adult money now and this is what i choose to spend that adult money on. and i realized i'm probably not gonna wear them because i'd be too scared of losing them, but i also don't wanna just put them in a box or frame them (some are bobble-headed and some dangle! i gotta let them move yknow?)

then this crazy idea came to mind... what if i made a tiny model carousel to display the pins on? that way they're displayed safely, but they are free to move around and be played with and i can remove them if i ever DO feel comfortable wearing them out. and if i ever get more DCA pins or keychains (like fan merch yknow 😍) then i can always add another "tier" to the carousel and make it taller. or i can mix and match what goes on the carousel. i also already have a lazy susan (i bought a pack of them from amazon for my spices and sauces) so, i could just put the model on it to make it spin (so i don't even need to make the spinning base!)

so yeah, this is going to be occupying my time and brain for the next couple of days (i'm somewhat going through a bit of an artblock too, so this will help me take a little break)

[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell, on the Death of Happiness:

- Perhaps it was the world’s press taking them too seriously and asking silly questions about the deeper meaning of their songs and about where the words came from that changed them from being simple songwriters. Songwriting became a “creative art” and was reinvented as being difficult.

- For John and Paul, songs were suddenly something that were “crafted” and then taken off to Abbey Road like a half-finished jigsaw puzzle for George Martin to work his alchemy on. It all became serious and expensive.

- Things changed. The passion went. […] I came to see on a regular basis how the four of them would be slumped in a corner at Abbey Road, with cups of coffee and bits of paper and cigarettes and joints, not doing a thing. George Martin and the new engineer, Geoff Emerick (who had replaced Norman Smith), would be sitting in the control room, or the canteen, bored out of their minds.

- I will always remember the twelve empty boxes [Magic Alex] made for George. They contained nothing and didn’t actually do anything, but George told John that they contained some kind of light ray that could recognize bad vibes. “Really? I’ll have some of those,” said John. “Yeah, me too. In fact, I’ll have two dozen. Put ’em on my bill,” said Ringo who was the most cynical of all the Beatles. Alex produced dozens and in all seriousness, they were lined up in key points around the Beatles’ homes, where, as far as I could tell, they continued to do nothing at all.

- The Beatles were under a lot of pressure at that time to prove themselves in the aftermath of Brian’s death. Consequently, the people who worked for them, or for Apple, were under a lot of pressure not to take the piss out of even the smallest of the Beatles’ bright ideas, including their involvement with the Maharishi, Alexis Mardas, or the Fool. They’re looking at you saying: “Go on. Say it. Say what you’re thinking! I can take it.” And you’re going, “No fucking way. One: you can’t take it. Secondly: I like it here!” To disagree would prove you were not tuned in and turned on.

- Denis left for the ashram, where he discovered that the Beatles were too high up in the clouds, literally, to care about films. George so desperately wanted to believe in this new religion that he called Denis into his hut and made him watch while he sat down cross-legged and levitated. When I asked Denis if he actually saw any space between George’s bottom and the concrete floor, he said evasively, “I’m not sure. George was wearing a robe, and it was very dark in his hut.” Denis was always very diplomatic.

- It seemed to me—and from what they said—that they were very earnest about meditation and Indian music, but found the Maharishi a faintly repulsive figure. They argued about it, but in the end they decided to give him the benefit of the doubt just in case he was some kind of magician

- [on hearing Jumping Jack Flash for the first time on the radio, Paul sends Tony to immediately request the station play it again.] There was a very funny look on Paul’s face as I went off to find the phone. As if, not only was the whole world on his shoulders, but now the Stones were about to hit their stride.

- As the sixties gave way to the seventies, the fun left. It was like a carousel on a merry-go-round slowly grinding to a halt, with the music dying and the lights going dim.

- Klein couldn’t have known that John was sensitive about being slightly dyslexic, but he had guessed correctly that John resented being seen as the junior partner.

- Not only was it hard work drumming up sufficient Krishnas to placate George when he wanted them around, but we were all bored to death at having to go along with the bunch of dropouts who marched up and down, chanting, clanging bells and begging for money.

- Previously, the Beatles had tried to get along; now there were factions. It was like walking on a knife-edge of conspiracies and backbiting. I watched the madness and the slow disintegration of Apple as barriers went up and years of lawsuits and wrangling began. […] People who worked for the Beatles and Apple were supposed to be totally faithful, but it was impossible to be loyal to everybody.

[taintandviolent]

Ride ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: 7k words. Jimmy tries to get you and your friend to ride the carousel, but she swoops in with the cock block of the century. Jimmy takes it real hard, but maybe... maybe you can change that by the end of the night. aka: a little angst, a little fluff, and a whole lotta smut that centers around a carousel. w a r n i n g s: female reader, female receiving, angst, mild fluff, kinda slow burn, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, rough sex. a/n: I have a problem... I've always wondered what it would be like to fool around on a carousel, and who better to explore that idea with than Jimmy Darling??? be fr. he's the one who would do it. comments are appreciated! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

It was a beautiful day, really. The sun was out, the sky held big, white clouds as fluffy as the cotton candy in your hand, and by grace of whatever God, the bugs had decided to stay away. The fabric of the tents fluttered, making snapping sounds every time the breeze caught it. 

Your bag swung at your side as you two walked through the field, passing the main tent. You’d wanted to see the Freak Show, but Debbie resisted, claiming that it wasn’t “good for us to see God’s mistakes” which you thought was a horrible and cruel thing to say, especially since you’d been teased in school for being so flexible. Some people’s bodies were just… different.

“I wonder how some of them eat.” Debbie sneered, bringing wretched images to mind. Although you hadn’t paid for the Freak Show, the posters of all the… talent… told you enough. Debbie expected a response, but you said nothing, feeling like the way you ate cotton candy was a privilege. You knew it was, and knew not to take it for granted.

“Carousel rides!” 

You snapped your head to the left, searching for the source. 

The man standing on a wooden crate outside of the operator booth proudly shouted the words over and over again. Children tugged on their mother’s dresses, pointing. Many of them were towed away with a frown, but a special few were treated, their mothers pulling change from their handbags as they approached him. For the most part though, throngs of people passed him, ignoring him. They’d come for the Freak Show, and didn’t want something as normal as a carousel. He’d grabbed your attention with his boisterous voice, and as soon as you two made eye contact, he took that as willing prey. Sure, you understood why; two girls, all by themselves enjoying a casual day at the Freak Show… “Just a nickel for the ride of your life!” 

“Ladies!” He stepped down off the box, making a beeline for you. Your friend immediately stiffened and started tugging you away, but you stood fast. He was handsome enough - you’d at least give him the time of day to do his little pitch. With an annoyed huff, Debbie crossed her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes skyward. 

“Care for a ride on the carousel? Let the pretty horses carry you for a few minutes, huh?” He crooned. 

Debbie laughed haughtily, shaking her head. You pinched off another piece of cotton candy before laying it carefully on your tongue. As the sticky sugar dissolved, you kept your eyes on the man, smiling a coy, come-hither smile. Finally, you swallowed and spoke again. “I used all my money on the Ferris Wheel. You’re awful cute though.” 

He grinned boyishly, leaning closer to you. He reached forward, carefully curling his fused fingers in, so as not to scare you as they neared your face. To him, hiding his fingers was a force of habit. You seemed like you might not have cared… but the risk was too great. With a soft, warm smile, the Lobster boy dragged his thumb across the corner of your mouth, removing a small fluff of cotton candy from the corner. 

“Y’think so?” 

You nodded, your soft curls bouncing with the motion.

“Well, in that case, baby, it’s free of charge for pretty girls.” 

“Oh, I doubt that’s true.” You cooed, leaning forward towards him. Surely that would get him in trouble with the big boss later. He glanced at your lips briefly before answering, and that sent a wave of undulating heat through your core. You couldn’t help but feel special at the mention of ‘baby’ even though you were certain that he called at least fifty girls a day the same thing and more. Despite all his lavish flirting, Debbie remained unmoved. In fact, a nasty scowl had developed on her once standardly pretty features.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re gonna turn down a free ride on a carousel now, are ya?” 

Debbie yanked your arm again, pursing her lips. “She sure is - get lost, freak.” 

Immediately, his debonair expression morphed into something much less friendly. Under a furrowed brow, his dark eyes narrowed into slits, darkening his once-amorous gaze. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring with anger. As you were towed away, you tried to throw him an apologetic frown, but he’d already turned away to kick the wooden crate he’d been standing on far into the field. 

Eve was making her rounds, checking in on everyone as she usually did. For not having any children herself, she had one hell of a maternal streak in her. Her and Ethel both looked after the troupe like they were their own, and that meant making sure that everyone was holding up throughout the day before they had to be corralled for the show. Jimmy had been assigned carousel duty that day, a position he usually shone in. His chipper attitude and undeniable charm brought the crowds, but when she walked up on the carousel, she could tell that Jimmy’s mood had soured. Over what, God knows, but she intended to find out. 

A soft hand came down on Jimmy’s shoulder. “What’s going on, sweetheart? What’s that face for?”

“It just ain’t right, Eve. These gals, they’re so pretty… and they’re full of coyote piss. Worst manners I’ve ever seen.” 

“I know, but you can’t let ‘em get to you. You know they’re gonna’ say something, sweetheart. It’s the same in every city, Jimmy… there’s always at least two that have nothing nicer to say. Like your mama’ always tells you, it says more about them than it does you.”

Jimmy knew she was right. He knew every single word that ever came out of her cherry-coloured lips was always right. Strong and wise — that was Eve. So why had those two particular girls gotten under his skin so much? He knew why. Underneath all the bitterness, he knew it was because you had been the prettiest girl he’d seen in this city — maybe in a few cities —  and that made the cruelty cut a little deeper. Sure, your friend had been the one to make the comment, but you hadn’t taken him up on his offer and you sure as hell hadn’t stopped her — which had to mean that somewhere, deep down, you agreed with her. 

Antsy, Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck before craning it to look up at Eve. He offered her an appreciative smile, assuring her that he’d be fine in a few, just needed a bit to cool off. So far, she wasn’t buying it. 

“It’s ‘cause she was pretty, wasn’t it? You always get so hung up on the pretty ones.” 

That was another thing — nothing got past her. 

Your breaths rushed out in tired pants as you ran through the field, clutching your purse to your side. You’d ditched the cotton candy in a bin so you could run freely. Arguably, telling Debbie that she needed to get head on straight might not have been one of the best decisions you’d made this summer. Debbie was your ride home, and that had hammered in that you’d have to walk to the nearest store and ask to use their phone if you wanted to make it home that night. What she’d done just didn’t sit right with you… and you were going to make it right. Besides that, if the rose-tinted fantasy you’d created in your head went as planned, you might have one of the best nights of your life. 

You were completely out of breath by the time you got to the carousel, but he was still there, holding the gate open for a group of teenagers as they scurried out like little mice. A very tall woman stood next to him, hands on her hips. She turned to you first, and quirked a single brow. 

“Hi,” you breathed. “I wanted to ride the carousel. And um, talk to him.” You jabbed your finger through the air, pointing at the Lobster Boy. 

“Well, I don’t know about our boy Jimmy, but the carousel is a nickel, honey.” 

You stared for a moment, processing what she’d said. You stuck your hand in your purse, fishing hurriedly around, praying to God that a stray nickel would be nestled in the crevices. After breathily apologising several times in the awkward silence, you finally produced a silver coin, holding it out in your hand, proudly. Before the tall lady could take it, two conjoined digits laid atop your palm, pushing it downwards.

“Carousel’s closed. Lunch break.” 

Now or never. “No, wait… please. Listen, I’m sorry about my friend. She… can be such a—” 

“Oh, you mean callin’ me a freak?” He asked. 

You recoiled, the bite in his words was harsher than you’d prepped yourself for. You swallowed, and straightened up, mustering up the courage to continue. 

“Look, Mr. Darling, I really —”

“Oh, we care about names now, huh?” 

He was really bent out of shape over this. You took a deep breath, pressing on. “I really did think you’re cute, and I would’ve ridden the carousel right then. I’m sorry that my friend said what she said. She had no right and I don’t have any right coming back here, but… I just… I had to apologise.”

He seemed to consider your words. You thought you saw a flicker of something in those deep, black coffee eyes of his but his expression remained stony, his arms stayed tight across his chest. The woman next to him shifted, nudging him slightly. You cleared your throat, trying to find the confidence to continue presenting your case, but the nerves took hold. The two of them remained impassive, unwilling to see past your friend’s heinous attitude, and you could hardly blame them.

With a small, courteous bow, you turned harshly, cutting yourself off. Any words that came from your mouth were going to be downright foolish, so you marched away from the pair, leaving a frustrated cloud of dust behind you. You thought you heard the woman call back to you, but you ignored her, not wanting any other bruises on your ego. 

Thankfully, by the time you’d made it to the outskirts of the main field, Debbie hadn’t left. After some sappy apologies, some agreements that that guy was a jerk, and a promise that you’d buy her soda at the diner, she agreed to stay friends. She thought you were a lunatic for even considering him, especially with those hands he had. You offered to buy her some sweets at the store too, and with a penchant for candy, she agreed and threw the car into drive. It was her father’s car, but she sure didn’t act like it. 

The store wasn’t far, but it felt like an eternity with the way she reprimanded you. Worse than your mother would. You rode in silence, sulking — as if it wasn’t bad enough that you’d been shot down out of your pink, cotton candy sky of delusions by Jimmy Darling. You almost opened the door before she’d stopped the car once you two had arrived.

As you stood in the candy aisle, you bounced on your heels. Debbie scoured the rows of jars for her preferred types, you began picked at your nails absentmindedly. It was inevitable that your thoughts drifted back to the red and white striped tents, to the wooden horses with graceful feathers atop their heads, and your mind conjured up the warm, sticky sweet scents of caramel and cotton candy. Jimmy Darling… your expression soured. For all you knew, you’d been blacklisted from ever seeing the show or setting foot on the fairgrounds. Anywhere.

“Alright, let’s go.” She barked, yanking you out of your stupor. Her arms were full of candy. Jeez, is she going to buy the whole store?!

On the way to the diner, you drove, because Debbie was far too invested in her candies to want to drive down the road a few miles. The diner was positioned just near the field, which was a terrific business decision on the owners of the Freak Show. From the vantage point of the tables outside, you could see the Freak Show in all its glory. The Ferris Wheel spun slowly. 

From where you sat, you could see the tip of the carousel, and for a brief moment, wondered if he was still there. Was he still calling to people? Had he found another pair of girls, both of them charmed to death by him? Was he guiding them to the horses with a wink? You hung your head, spinning the straw around in your glass, watching sadly as the soda bubbles rushed to the top.

“Well, look who it is.”

Your face fell, the last bit of colour draining from your face. You clocked his voice immediately. That drove a burning stake of embarrassment through your chest, sending you into a flurry of emotion. You turned sharply on the bench to face him. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing next to another man you recognised from the posters, the one who had the fire breathing act. Without thinking, you scowled at both of them.

“Can I help you?” Lips pursed into a tight, angry line. You were hurt more than anything, but you were putting on an extra show for Debbie. 

“I sure hope so. I can’t get your face outta’ my head, doll. It keeps —“ 

“Oh, we’re smitten now?” You mocked the way he spoke to you earlier. Your voice was sharp, biting, and a reflection of the cracks Jimmy had put in your heart. You felt it, he heard it. You were livid. Now he wanted to talk, now he wanted to give you a chance when a few hours ago, all you’d wanted was a chance to apologise, to make wrongs right and he couldn’t give you the time of day.

“Run back to your Freak Show, Jimmy Darling.”  

“Only if you’re coming back with me.” 

Debbie straightened up, mouthful of jellies. Even she, in her anti-freak state, couldn’t deny the charm the man held. Her eyes darted between the two of you, waiting to see who would fold first.

“Why should I? So you can humiliate me again? Make me apologise only to shuck me off as nothing again?” 

“You went and apologised!?” Debbie blared from behind you, her mouth sticky. 

“Hush up!” 

Jimmy smirked to his friend, who reciprocated the expression, clearly impressed by your sudden fieriness. 

“Huh? I asked you a question, Jimmy.” 

“Well, see…” he paused, clearing his throat. “I was just upset back there. But my friend here talked me down, and I—“ 

“Oh, how nice of him. Maybe I should’ve found him and asked him for a ride.” The words were accompanied by a sneer. The man next to Jimmy tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and smirked. It was a suave, dangerous smirk and you caught yourself; almost letting your eyes linger a little too long. As he closed the distance between you two, Jimmy cleared his throat again — a nervous habit. 

“Listen, doll face…” he muttered.

Debbie was waiting to see who would fold first… and it was going to be you, because when Jimmy Darling sat down next to you on the tiny little bench, and leaned his elbow on the table, your whole body felt like Jell-O. He smiled hopefully, staring into your eyes. Even Debbie stayed quiet then.

“C’mon… whaddya’ say? After the show tonight, say around… nine o’clock?” 

If it were possible, you would’ve told him no, but the way your gaze softened would’ve given you away. So, instead of lying to him, you took a deep breath and turned back, making brief, embarrassed eye contact with Debbie before returning your attention to your very interesting soda. 

Jimmy waited a few more moments, but finally got up without another word. His friend muttered something you couldn’t hear. You were proud of yourself and how resilient you were acting, because deep down, you wanted to run back to him, clutch him at the collar and beg for his attention again. But you didn’t, and he didn’t come back, just walked off down the dirt road with his friend, laughing and joking. Your only option now was go to see him at nine o’clock. 

Somehow, even though she was still sore, you convinced Debbie to see a movie after you finished your sodas, just to pass the time. You’d gone and apologised and made her look bad, so she was mad at you and made that known. As you munched on popcorn, you thought about lecturing her on her choice of words, but ultimately, decided against it — she was rooted in her ways and you in yours. The hours dragged and the movie was no help. You couldn’t even recall the plot as the images flashed before your eyes. Some romantic plot, but you were too busy thinking about your own plot with Jimmy Darling, the Lobster Boy. Too busy swimming in his deep, brown eyes and basking in his bright, poster-boy smile. You’d give it all just to see it again… just to see him look at you the way he had this afternoon. 

Eventually, the movie ended and it was just about eight-thirty — enough time to get to the field. Debbie may have been mad, but she still offered to drive. She swore up and down that she wouldn’t pick you up, however. That was alright, you mused. If you had your way, you wouldn’t need a ride home. 

About that time, Jimmy leaned against one of the horses. There was a part of him that was screaming that this was a waste of time and there wasn’t a chance in Hell that you were coming. Another part that was more gentle, softer, and more romantic whispered quietly in his ear that something in your eyes earlier today had begged for him to touch you, to hold you close to his chest and nuzzle his lips against your neck. Girls were funny creatures, but boy did he love ‘em. Even through all the tribulations and mood swings, Jimmy was obsessed with those long-legged, bright-eyed, pink-lipped girls. There was just something about them.

Given his unfortunate circumstances, Jimmy didn’t particularly see himself as a Casanova, but the reality of it was that he was every bit of that. In every city their caravans pulled into, Jimmy always found himself a handful of girls who would swoon over him, and another select one that was adventurous enough to be moaning his name by the end of the week. He was doing ‘em a service, giving them a taste of the wild side of loving. 

You approached from the opposite side of the meadow, passing quietly by the Ferris Wheel. Everything was abandoned, the circus-goers had long since left, leaving nothing but empty popcorn bags and heavily trodden grass. The main tent was alive with chatter though, full of people. You assumed Jimmy wasn’t in there, and when you craned your neck to look over, you saw a black woollen hat poking over the top of one of the horses.

“I’m here to ride…” you said quietly, approaching from behind. 

Jimmy spun around to the direction of your voice, a delighted smile on his face. He was thrilled — over the moon, in fact. In a flurry of excitement, he yanked his hat off his head and threw it to the ground before latching onto one of the twisted golden poles. With a small laugh, he swung himself off the carousel onto the grass, the blades folding underneath his weight. He rushed up to you, like he had earlier in the day, and immediately, his gaze locked onto your lips, glossy with some sort of lipstick that you’d put on just before showing up.

“I didn’t think you’d make it…” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said. “I think you knew very well that I would.” 

“Sure, maybe I did.” 

You gazed up into his pitch dark eyes with a smile. For such an inky set of hues, they sure were warm. He looked back down at you, tilting his head slightly. A love drunk, half-lidded look washed over his features and with a breath, you mirrored it. You rose to your tip-toes, biting the corner of your bottom lip. 

That was a look of wanting a kiss, and boy was he glad you’d given him the green light on that one. Jimmy placed his hands on your elbows before slowly sliding them up the backs of your arms. Once they reached your shoulders, he pulled you in closer. He lowered his head with a smile, and finally, your lips met in the softest, tenderest kiss you’d ever had in your life. “C’mon,” he said, breaking the kiss as he took your hand. “You came here for a ride, and I’m gonna’ give you one.”

With your smaller hand in his, Jimmy wasted no time in leading you to the carousel. After a little deliberation, you chose the tan horse with the beautiful, golden plume on its headdress, its head reared up in an enchanting whinny. You hoisted one leg over the horse’s wooden body, holding your skirt down in the middle to avoid flashing the man behind you. Once you were situated, Jimmy took hold of the worn leather strap at your waist, wrapping both arms around you to slip the prong into the size-appropriate hole. Both his large, vascular hands came down on either hip, giving you a gentle pat. 

“Gotta’ strap you down, in case this horse decides to take off.” Jimmy teased. He gave you a wink before stepping off the carousel and making the short trek to the operator’s booth. After he’d slipped inside, he flipped a switch and pushed forward on a lever. The music started first, breathy and light. Shortly after, the carousel gently came to life; the horses that were high dipped gracefully, and the ones that were low, rose ever so softly into the air, until they were all galloping in unison. 

You held on, delighted. Even though you were no longer a child, riding a carousel still held a certain joviality. The horses went up down as light as air, and you moved your body with their motions, stretching up and curving down as they circled around their track. You wondered where the rest of the troupe was. Surely, they’d heard the sweet, mellifluous sound of of the calliope as it drifted over the tall grasses and rode on the soft breeze, inviting anyone who heard it to come for a ride, come for a ride.

Jimmy stood just in front of the carousel, watching as you swept by, circling round and round. Every time you caught a glimpse, you blushed. You didn’t have to be a mind-reader to hear his thoughts; he was admiring the way your body seemed to course with energy, following the movements of the animal below you, and matching their gait. He figured you’d do that with him, too. God, I sure hope she does. 

The carousel was going slow enough that Jimmy could step on without injury, but even then, he was skilled enough to do it at a higher speed. He waited until the black horse passed and then quickly hopped on. He was several horses behind you, which meant that you’d be looking for him out in the field on the next rotation. And you were — he saw your neck lengthen as you looked for him, turning slightly as you passed the spot where he previously stood. Jimmy travelled from horse to horse, his hand flattening on the hard, wooden rumps of each of the horses as he passed them. As he approached, you were none the wiser, still giggling softly to yourself and swaying delicately to the music. 

“Havin’ fun?” He asked, laying his hand on the small of your back. Instead of lurching upwards in fright like he expected you to, you melted into his hand. With a sigh, you dropped your head to the side, thankful that it landed on his shoulder. You got a whiff of his warm aroma; he smelled like a carnival would, a perfume of popcorn, cotton candy, warm grasses and sun. You took a few deep breaths, calming your nerves. With the euphoria of the carousel, you were already so full of emotion. Now arousal? Just because he touched your back and you smelled him? Poor little fool. You weren’t sure you could handle another overwhelming sensation. 

“This is the most wonderful carousel I’ve ever ridden,” you confessed dreamily. “And I’ve ridden so many.” 

“This ol’ girl?” He asked. He stroked the horse next to you, fingers dancing lovingly over the tresses of the horse’s frozen mane. “Aw, shucks. She probably loves hearin’ that. She’s been with us since… hell, since before I’ve been apart of the show.” 

He looked up, watching as the oiled gears rotated, bringing you up and down. Him and Eve had repaired this thing a handful times, and his mother had even sculpted a new head for one of them. The white one, on the other side. Of course, she’d done such a good job that barely anyone noticed. There’d be a day where she’d break down so bad that they couldn’t fix her, but today wasn’t that day. 

You’d made quite a few rotations by that point, and the songs would start repeating sooner or later. He asked: “Had enough?”

“I could ride this all night, Jimmy. All night.” You replied. 

“How ‘bout you ride something else?” 

Your jaw dropped open, but Jimmy closed it with a knuckle. Immediately, he started to stammer nervously, unsure of what had come over him.“Gosh, I’m sorry, that was uh —

You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips into his warm, plush ones. You didn’t want to hear an apology. There had certainly been enough of that today. His hand cupped your knee, caressing it softly. The feeling took your breath away, leaving nothing but a quiet little whimper that vibrated against his lips.

Moving away from your knee, Jimmy’s hand trailed upwards until he met the thick fluffy petticoat of your dress and flipped it up, delving underneath before it fluttered back down. His thick fingers grazed your slit over your panties, feeling the heat that radiated from it. You weren’t sure if you’d already started leaking into the satin, but whatever Jimmy felt was enough for him to break the kiss and gaze deep into your eyes.

“Baby, baby… c’mere.” After freeing you, Jimmy hoisted you up into his arms wedding-style. Your arms wrapped around his neck, which you immediately took to kissing and nipping playfully at. His breath hitched when you did. Careful not to hit your feet on any of the horses, Jimmy navigated around each of the horses. He finally reached his destination, and set you carefully down on the swan chair, making sure you were comfortable before sinking into the spot next to you.

“I’m real glad you decided to come tonight.” He murmured, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I meant what I said about not bein’ able to get your face outta’ my head.” 

“Well, I meant what I said about you being awful cute.”

Jimmy hurriedly crawled on top of you, supporting his weight on the back of the chair. His head hung between his shoulders as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours, his warm breath washing over your cheeks. 

“I want you real bad,” he slurred. You picked up the faintest hint of alcohol on his breath, biting and strong. “I need that heat, baby.” 

The fabric of his dark jeans were pulled taut with his growing arousal, and when you hooked your fingers around the top of his belt, your fingers grazed the warm skin of his tummy. He whimpered as you tugged him closer, urging his hips into yours. You wanted it, batting your lashes with wanton intent. God, he thought. I could fall head first into those doe-eyes if I’m not careful…

Slowly, Jimmy began grinding into you, bringing himself as close as he could with clothes on. You were so soft and warm underneath him. It drove him crazy. You whimpered pitifully, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. One of his hands was on the back of the chair while the other was beneath your ass, pulling you up to meet each of his thrusts. 

“Harder, Jimmy.” was all you said.

Jimmy thrusted deeper, rolling his hips back and forth and grinding against your centre. The hardness beneath his jeans bumped against you, rubbing determinedly against your cunt. The friction was just enough to get him stiffer, but not enough to satisfy. Like a lover persisting that something was too much, the wood creaked louder. Jimmy slowed his grinding, looking up at the old neck of the swan. “We oughta’ move this somewhere else… I dunno’ if she can handle…” 

“Handle what?” You asked, out of breath and distraught that he’d stopped. The tiniest beads of sweat decorated your hairline. Jimmy had you worked up and only from some heavy grinding. 

“Well, to be honest doll face, what I wanna’ do to ya’.” 

Your cheeks flushed, hotter than the surface of the sun. They had to be beet-red as your eyelashes fluttered shyly at him. “Jimmy…” you whispered. He grinned, and took a few steps back, extending his hand towards you. Your curious eyes trailed down, sweeping over the bulge in his jeans. You weren’t the only one who had gotten worked up, it seemed.

You took his hand and he pulled you off the swan seat with ease, his bicep flexing underneath the cuff of his sleeve. As he led you off the carousel, your hand was swallowed by warmth and size. The journey was short, but the reason for the destination was obvious; it was secluded and out of view. Behind the carousel, between two smaller tents, the grasses were high, swaying back and forth with the breeze. Jimmy sat down first, pulling you down onto his lap.

You needed no instruction from the man beneath you; your hips began grinding back and forth on his groin, picking up where you two left off. He groaned and fell onto his back, weakened with pleasure. You could see his skin flushing with arousal. A smile curled around your lips, feeling more powerful than you could ever remember. Jimmy was beneath you, panting in ecstasy, and all you had to do was wiggle your hips back and forth to make him come undone. You bit your lip, planting your hips hard, and shimmied back and forth, feeling his bulge grind against your swollen clit. Jimmy practically whined at that. It was a high pitched, desperate, breathy sound.

“Baby…” He leaned up, his chest heaving. “You’re drivin’ me wild.” 

You nodded, knowingly. It wasn’t a secret that you were driving yourself wild; you were certain that by this point, you’d left a sizeable wet spot on his jeans. Your hands moved to his chest, taking your time with his shirt as you carefully pulled each button out of its slit. Once they were undone, you pushed the shirt off his round shoulders, letting it fall to the grass below. Jimmy watched you intently. 

“Where’s my strap now?” You asked, tracing circles on his bare chest. His skin was tanned and warm, like it had taken the warmth of the summer sun, absorbed it and made it its own. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the flesh just above his nipple. Jimmy hissed in response, lifting his head to look at you. 

He looked at you curiously, a single eye brow lifted. “Your what?” 

“My leather safety strap… you know, in case this Lobster takes off…” 

“Ohoh,” Jimmy laughed a low, sweet molasses-like chuckle. “Oh, baby. He will. But don’t you worry, I’ll hold onto you nice n’ tight.” 

You pressed your lips against his, humming an excited laugh into his mouth. Feeling adventurous, you reached down the front of his jeans. Right away, the tips of your fingers were met with a velvety hot tip, slick with pre-cum. You swept the pad of your thumb over the slit, smearing the clear fluid over the tip. His heavy, swollen cock was already sensitive from the grinding that you two had been doing, so the slightest touch had him bucking his hips into your palm. The motion pushed your hand farther down into his jeans, allowing you to feel his stiff cock, and the heat that radiated from it. 

“Jimmy,” you cooed. “You’re so hard…” 

“Well, ‘course I am baby… you think you can move those hips on a guy like that and nothin’ happens?” As he spoke, Jimmy’s long, conjoined fingers gripped your hips, urging them back and forth again as if you to remind you what you’d been doing. Your body obeyed, undulating back and forth, riding the base of his cock, while your hand stroked just below the tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, baby, just like that…” 

You kept up, easing more pre-cum from Jimmy’s tip. Your blush had spread to your neck, a direct result of you being embarrassed by your provocativeness. You’d never been this dirty in your life, and your first sexual encounter had been far less licentious than this — but it all felt so natural with him. 

“Ahhh, alright — I’m gonna’ lose it, baby. You gotta’ stop…” He said, abruptly yanking your hand from his jeans. 

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” He echoed, pausing to kiss you. “What’s wrong with that is…” Another kiss. “I want inside uh’ you…” Another kiss, and he looked down at your body, watching as your chest heaved with each hot breath that left your lips. He wrapped one arm around you, flipping both of you over so that his body was atop yours. Feebly, you cleared your throat. The knot in your stomach wound tighter as you scooted back from him, arranging yourself and laying down on the shirt. 

“C-could you… use your fingers first?” You faltered, sounding more nervous than you actually were. The question was fuelled more by curiosity than fear. Jimmy’s cocoa-coloured eyes seemed to darken even more, mischievously. 

“First, huh?” An adorable crooked smile cut across his face. With lips pursed, you shot him a sideways glance. By this point, he had to have known what you wanted, but acted as aloof and innocent as ever. He returned your glance with a wink, knee-walking himself closer to you. With a tight breath, you shimmied out of your panties, setting them next to you in the grass. Your dress skirt had enough length, providing a layer of protection between your ass and the ground. 

He stretched his hand, curling and uncurling his long, conjoined digits, like a runner stretching his legs for the marathon ahead. You had him feeling nervous, like a virgin on prom night, so he was thankful for the familiarity of using his hands. He was used to this part. He knew how this went.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, eager to watch. Jimmy’s fingers fell to touch you, nearing your entrance. The tips of them grazed your slit, slipping along your drenched folds and spreading the wetness. His thumb circled your clit, sending a shockwave through your body. The muscles in your abdomen immediately tightened, and a searing ache started just above your bladder. A breathy moan left your lips as you arched your spine upwards in white hot ecstasy. 

“Feel good? Tell me, baby.” 

“Y-yeah,” you whined. “Yeah, it does.” 

He looked down at you, craning his neck to get a better view. You were more than ready; leaking like a faucet. You’d probably been ready, but Jimmy was usually a gentleman and favoured comfort over speed. He did it with all sorts of girls all across the country, for cryin’ out loud. He knew how to get ‘em worked up enough that he could bottom out in one thrust. But of course, he rarely did. They didn’t want his cock, they wanted his freak fingers. 

But not you. You wanted all of him. 

Jimmy held his breath as he curled one set of pincers back towards his palm, inserting the other into your cunt. He exhaled heavily; it was warm and slick, the sweetest thing he’d ever felt. 

“Hohh… babydoll…” He closed his eyes, and began pumping. You were already writhing and panting underneath him. Jimmy grinned bright. He loved the noises that all the pretty girls made when he touched them, but there was something special about the noises you were making. You were expelling these short, high breaths, and thrusting your hips to meet his fingers each time. The immediacy of his need hit him like a freight train. His cock twitched in his briefs, demanding attention. He needed you. Now. His cock tensed again, urging more pre-cum from the tip. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” 

He prayed to the stars above that you’d say yes. When he saw your curls bounce with the motion of your nodding, he heaved a sigh of relief and flopped over, reaching into his jeans to free his cock from its cloth prison. You couldn’t help but gawk at the way that it stood attention, red and angry and looking for somewhere to go. 

“C’mon. On top. I’ll give you the real ride uh’ your life now.”

You gathered your dress and petticoat into your hands before throwing one leg over his waist. Beneath you, Jimmy held his cock, guiding it blindly over your slick folds. You whimpered every time the hot tip bumped into your aching clit. Straightening up on your knees, you paused, doubting your ability to take him all in one go. He sensed your hesitation. 

“It’s alright baby, take it nice n’ slow.” His accent was like honey, dribbling out and coating your heart in a warm, sticky mess.

“I’ve just never,” Jimmy pressed a conjoined digit into your lips, shaking his head. “Don’t gotta’ explain yourself. It’s gonna feel good to me either way.” 

Your knees spread, slipping against the warm grass as you lowered yourself down onto his cock. At first, the squish of his head was comforting and the heat felt good — really good, but then it was the strain of your cunt trying to accept his girth. You forced your hips down further, and your cunt swallowed the head and half of the shaft.

“Ohh… my god.” As the stinging stretch subsided, making room for his thick cock, a deep moan echoed over the field. Gingerly, you moved your body up and down, feeling full and tense.  Jimmy made a fist in front of his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Sure, he got some tail every now and then, but it was his hand more often than not. He led a “satisfy them now, worry about yourself later” kind of lifestyle, and all for a couple bucks. 

But this… this… 

He groaned loud, unconsciously thrusting his hips and stuffing the rest of himself inside of you. His cock bottomed out, veiny and pressing against your slick walls. You winced, overcome by the sensation. It was almost too much, but you took a deep breath, and kept at it.  

Jimmy’s chocolate eyes softened, full of adoration, as he watched you, feeling your body tremble. She’s never ridden anyone before, save for those horses. 

“C’mere, baby. Keep that ass up, and I’ll do the work.” Jimmy’s warm arms wrapped around your back, pulling your chest to his. His arms enveloped your, warm biceps pressing against your shoulders. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, and that’s when he took ahold of your ass, digging his digits into the marshmallow-soft flesh of your cheeks. You backed your hips out slightly, adjusting to the new position. 

With a slow breath, he started thrusting up into you. His cock was so slick, messily slipping in and out of you with ease, and the way it was hitting you, the way the ridges of his head popped in and out of your cunt… made your eyes rolled backwards. 

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” you panted, meeting his hips. “I promise.”

At first, he didn’t answer, only craned his neck up to kiss you hard. His tongue delved into your mouth, swirling hungrily along yours. You moaned into his mouth. Loud. His large hands, spread out on your ass, moved up and down with each thrust, using it as leverage. You gripped his broad shoulder tight, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. 

“I know, baby… I know you don’t.” 

The melodies of the cicadas and the rustling grasses hardly concealed the wet slapping of his thick cock as it pounded into you. Loud enough you were sure that someone could — and would — hear. But it felt so good. You couldn’t stop even if the entire freak show was standing around you, watching, taking notes. 

He fucked harder and the feeling of his cock as it massaged your cunt, hitting all the right spots at a gentle curve had you whining into his ear. In your shoes, your toes curled tightly, almost cramping. You begged for him, cried for him, and told him how good it felt. He groaned, moaned and growled in response each time you did. Called you angel face, baby doll, and honey — names that sounded so good on his lips. You shuddered hard against his warm body, drenched in sweat. 

Jimmy let out a series of pants as he picked up his speed. You were so close, whining brokenly with every hit of his cock. With a sudden deep sound, his whole body tensed. The veins in his neck popped and his teeth clenched tight, sounds of ecstasy breaking free from between them. You felt the heat of his cum coat your insides and it sent you over the edge — your own orgasm ran after his, clenching around his cock, and leaking down onto his thighs. His thrusts slowed sporadically, twitching up into you before they finally subsided. 

He wrapped his arms around you as his cock softened inside of you, both of you panting in unison. Subconsciously, he was protecting you from the chill that would inevitably settle on your sweat-coated body. As he stared up at the stars, the twinkling little pinpricks of light, Jimmy Darling promised you another ride — one home. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that this was his last weekend in your quaint little city. He wasn’t quite ready for that devastation yet.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamarss / @silverzoomiesies / @kaisbasementwhore / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha/ @randodummy / @throwinginmythai /

Ask to be added to taglist for future fics!!

[milomaxxy]

Unfortunately, I'm going to have to put this put there for basically the foreseeable future:

I don't have any money. Like, at all. It doesn't even matter that I just got money today, bc it's all already gone to the various necessities. What little bit of "extra" money I have goes to my toddler, bc I'm not depriving her of enjoying things when we can. I feel like it's not a sin for me to let my 4 year old spend $2 for the carousel or buy a little glow-in-the-dark dog, or get a treat once or twice a month, y'know?

With that being said, until my spouse and I are able to win the fight to prove to the SSA that we're both disabled, this is our permanent financial status. We barely scrape by month-to-month and some months we have to beg from friends or family for the last week. So we don't have spare funds, at all, and that means we're incapable of donating without putting our family at risk of not getting what we need. We need our medicine every month, or we get seriously sick (me especially, since I have long covid that agitated my already chronically ill ass). We need things like toilet paper, trash bags, toiletries, cleaning supplies, and the other necessities it takes to keep our home and ourselves clean and healthy. We very obviously need to cover our bills and rent, or we'd be on the streets (again, after JUST getting into our apartment at the end of October). Our cat obviously needs her food and litter every month, especially with her being an emotional support animal. As is we can't even afford to use the bus as often as we need, so we end up hurting ourselves walking further than we can to get groceries.

So, until we're able to win our disability benefits cases, we sadly are unable to help anyone else. We can't risk our toddler, or being homeless again. I'm sure I'll end up keeping updates about it, if only bc it's exciting to get anywhere with the SSA, but for now this is an official "I'm so broke we can't even really afford to eat in order to ensure our toddler gets to eat for the next few days until food stamps comes in; so please stop asking for money" post.

I'll still reblog donation links, mutual aid requests, and the like, but I can't handle the constant reminder that I have less than a dollar to last the rest of the month. I'm almost to the point of closing my ask box until my financial status changes, just bc my mental health has taken a considerably large dunk since getting bombarded with requests to donate even after stating I literally have nothing to donate. I have basically pennies to my name, to last 30 more days. But I'm gonna have to put my mental health on one of the burners, if only so I can still be active in my family, y'know?

[furby-junkie]

A bootleg money box resembling a McDonald's Furby

Carousell HK

[katebishopofearth]

I know this is out of nowhere but do you have any tonynat fic snippets you can share with us? I really love your writing 🥹

Ahhhhh this ask means so much to me you don't even understand 🥹

Here's... a thing...? that started out as a response to a prompt from a million years ago, it takes place in a Hollywood AU, but in order to write for that AU I obviously had to develop the entire elaborate backstory, after which... I did not finish writing for the prompt I am so sorry 😭 it's in the works I promise

But for now, here's the backstory:

In the glamorous world of Hollywood, money alone wasn't enough to open doors. You also needed status and fame, the ephemeral currencies of Hollywood.

And Tony Stark was nothing if not Hollywood royalty. He grew up in the limelight, the only child of celebrated actors Howard and Maria Stark. He had cameos in blockbusters before he could walk, became a leading man at the age of sixteen, and made a name for himself as not only a brilliant actor but also a notorious playboy following in his father's footsteps. Everywhere he went he had a different girl on his arm, he courted the affections of a handful of men, and when an interviewer asked him about settling down, he shrugged off the idea with his trademark devil-may-care smirk.

Natasha Romanoff found it all rather amusing. Because for a year now, Tony Stark hadn't been going home to his sprawling beachside mansion with a carousel of beautiful and interchangeable men and women. He had been going home to her cozy townhouse, cooking dinner in her kitchen, and spending his evenings curled up with her on her couch.

It had started as a chance encounter at the friend of a friend's, which led to an evening of lively, engaging conversation over drinks. He had seen her debut movie, which came out eight months ago, a small indie picture about two sisters that made barely a splash critically or in the box office. But he had seen it, and he had some surprisingly deep and pointed insights into it. It proved to her that there was a brain behind all his bravado, and broke through any reservations she might have had about his status as the A-lister of A-listers.

Then Tony expressed interest in her new project, and she cast him in a supporting role. They spent a lot of time together during that project – two months in the middle of nowhere. When Natasha was deep in the mires of rewrites, shooting schedules, and editing, it was Tony who brought her a sandwich, a cup of tea, or an aspirin. Sometimes, he acted as a sounding board, letting her bounce her ideas and frustrations off him. Other times, he cajoled her into taking a break – watching old spy movies, going for a walk, or drawing her out of her hyper-focus with a lively debate over something as pointless as almond milk or the Star Wars prequels.

It was on one of these breaks, in the last two weeks of shooting, that she kissed him. It might have been in the middle of From Russia With Love, in the middle of a field at dusk, or  in the middle of a discussion about aliens. The details didn't matter – what did matter was that despite his reputation, despite the energy that fizzled between them, Tony didn't make the first move. That had always been reserved for Natasha. When she pulled back and asked him, "was that okay?" he smiled so that the edges of his eyes crinkled, and he said in wonderment, "no one's ever asked me that before", before he leaned in for another kiss. When their lips met, it was with a sense of inevitability, like they had been, all this time, finding their way to each other.

After that, the world shifted imperceptibly. It was the subtlest of paradigm shifts. Even after the shoot wrapped up and they went back to LA, and Natasha dove into the post-production phase of her film and Tony started shooting a new movie in his superhero franchise, there was no picking up their normal lives again.

[ryuichirou]

Headcanons I want to share to you about Fellow Honest and Gidel and I'll ask for your's in return:

They 100% bones on a bed of money lbr

Switches. I refuse otherwise

Must've been homeless or severally poor prior of the circus and might have sine depts to pay for the one who saved them (aka this world's version of that scary donkey dude)

I get the vibe Gidel is secretly hella flexible so yeah-

These are their songs

Why do I get the vibe silks/suspended sex is a norm for them

Not gonna lie lowkey scared if we see a damn donkey knowing what this is based off on

MAYBE murdered before but more in a way to protect the other ya know!

Are VERY protective of each other and I feel like Gidel has a real mallet ready to swing if he feels Fellow Honest is threatened and Fellow Honest is down to beat someone to a pulp with his damn cane

Tails tangled together-

I have a new headcanon they know Chenya from either the past or still friends with him

You know, like I already said, it’ll take us quite some time to get to these two, so we don’t have any thoughts or headcanons about them yet. When we do find out more, we’ll definitely get back to your headcanons and share our thoughts~

But for now I’ll just post your thoughts, so they don’t sit there in the limbo that is our ask box lol

Thank you for sharing!

[yourcoffeeguru]

Vintage Money Box CAROUSEL by Jamine made Hong Kong Fine Quality Silverplate || swtradepost

[queen-of-the-boos]

BAM ANOTHER ASK I STRIKE AGAIN

Band-aid 🩹 and Microphone 🎤 do not hold back when rambling give me everything in your head

Oh you asked for it.

1. If there was one thing about your f/o that you would want people to understand, what would it be?

Moon isn't pure evil. He's chaotic neutral. Yeah I said it. Most of my faves are. I'm not trying to woobify this robot I'm dead fucking serious he has so many neutral traits and it's like I'm the only one who sees them. I guess I'm insane? What else is new man. But anyway just.

He's programmed with security protocols and just wanted to catch Gregory. "Ouuu Gregory is just a kid" maybe so. But he's a fucking menace of a child. Look what happened to the others and the entire pizza plex because of that child. Granted the plex part was also because of a certain entity, but I digress. Moon was trying to stop Gregory in any way possible because it was in his programming.

THAT BEING SAID. He is also a meanie and silly. And you know what? I love that about him. I think he's allowed to be mean and be a little silly as a treat. If I was in someone's shadow all the time constantly being called bad and evil by even the official pizza plex merch, I'd snap too.

I think he just plays into the mean and bad role because it's all he's ever been known as. It's all he knows. Aside from how to take care of children. That can be an iffy mix. But yknow what? Contrary to popular and boring belief, some kids actually like villains better. I imagine there are little regulars of the daycare that adored Moon and he probably loved it. You know if he heard a little one say he was cool, he'd absolutely keep playing up and exaggerating his villainous tendencies. And that never became an actual threat until the whole virus incident.

Yknow something else. I like threatening Moon too. Yeah I said it. I don't care if he has a virus or not that won't stop me from loving every bit of him pre-present-or post virus. And no I don't think he's ever actually hurt a child before Gregory. I think he's scared them shitless but never laid a hand on one. I think he ENJOYED scaring them too. And I think that's fun sorry not sorry. Once again, being the opposite of Sun is all he really knows, and the virus just amped that up to 11.

Did you know that before they were programmed with the knowledge to care for children, they were both theater performers? Facts. It's no wonder poor Sun seems to have anxiety and Moon is so theatrical in his spooky personality. Sun always played the good guy and Moon was always the villain on stage. It's just their natural ways. Furthering my point.

Tldr; Moon isn't inheritly evil. He's morally grey. And programmed to be that way virus or not.

Wow that did get long. Sorry. Hm.

2. Does your f/o sing or play music? If so, how are they at their craft, and what's your favorite thing about it?

I hc Moonie both sings and has a music box for lulling people to sleep. They're a wonderful singer and I'd pay MONEY to fall asleep to their voice. Moon asmr when /hj

My favorite thing about it... Definitely when Moon plays waltzy tunes from his music box and asks me to dance with him- or when he does silly dances to his own music. He's really good at making up funny songs too! Some of them can be morbid, but I like morbid. I like him. I wish I could kiss him. "He doesn't have lips" shut UP yes he does they're right there carved on his big happy smile. Also idgaf I will kiss teeth like a sans selfshipper try me bitch (I'm sure you probably feel the same)

... I'm actually listening to the carousel theme for the first time and imagining dancing with Moonie under the daycare stars... But don't tell anyone....

[motownfiction]

pantomime

Daniel feels like he has to pantomime his way through life.

Ever since his father left almost two years ago, he’s had to exaggerate everything. He has to step in and do half the chores for his mother (because he doesn’t want Lola to feel like too much has changed; doesn’t want his kid sister to have to stop being a kid just because their old man bailed). He has to work double overtime to cheer up Lola when she’s sad about Dad leaving. He buys her milkshakes and big baskets of fries and listens while she talks nonstop about Kevin Sheehan’s adorable freckles; while she intermittently sings the chorus to “Vacation” by The Go-Go’s because she can’t help what’s stuck in her head. Daniel has to sing along with it, too, so Lola doesn’t feel like he’s not paying attention to her (because Dad never did); so Lola doesn’t feel like he doesn’t love her (because Dad never did). He’s like a fucking fairy godmother with no magic wand. Only the expressions.

And then there are the girls – the carousel of some of St. Catherine’s finest, all trying to figure out if what the last one said about Daniel DeLuca’s kisses was true. Daniel likes going out with them, for the most part. But even he can’t deny it’s a performance. He knows they’re expecting certain movements, certain catchphrases, certain stories they can run home and share with their friends because privacy means nothing if you have busy parents and your own telephone line. So he checks off the boxes. Moves on through it. It’s easy, and it’s what everybody wants. Even he wants it, most of the time.

He lies on his bed in the middle of the night with the radio on low. It’s dark, and he’s too tired to get up and turn it off. Besides, he’s always liked falling asleep to music. Whenever Mom and Dad would stay up all night fighting about time, money, and booze, music was there for him. It’s here for him tonight when he can’t stop thinking about how tired he is … when he can’t stop thinking about how it’s the kind of tired where you can’t fall asleep.

Snap your fingers, and I’ll turn you some flips / I’m your puppet.

In the cover of darkness, Daniel snorts and rolls his eyes.

Couldn’t be more on the nose if it tried.

Not at all.

(part of @nosebleedclub march challenge -- day xxix!)

[innocentlymacabre]

Due North [Part 4]: Into the Thick of It, Part II

23.08.21 | Part 3

Fantasy meets slice-of-life in the secretive, wonderous, and oddity-rich lives of the residents of Due North

The last few nights had been good to Tony, and he’d began to get accustomed to winning and to a winner’s money. He suspected word had got around about his fight with the minotaur and now his opponents lost before they entered the ring.

A little restaurant, perched atop a cliff overlooking the sprawling town below, had become his new favourite. La Francesca was named after the original name of the owner’s hometown, with some town rumours suggesting Giuseppe had been alive ever since it went by the name. They were famously secretive though, so no one knew how much truth there was to the claim. Giuseppe mingled freely and openly with their patrons, laughing and smiling their way through each diner, but always deflected any questions about themself. The only thing anyone knew about them was the history behind their restaurant’s name, something that they proudly exclaimed to the world, and had on display under a painting of the town’s shoreline.

“You obviously love the place so much. It’s practically the only thing anyone knows about you. Why don’t you ever visit?” Tony once asked them.

Giuseppe smiled. “You’re not from around here either, Tony. Why don’t you visit?”

Tony sighed a sad smile. “Ah, there’s nothing left for me back where I come from.”

“What’s your story, Tony?”

“Giuseppe, you have your secrets, I have mine,” Tony replied smirking. Truth be told, it was less of a secret and more a painful memory, but he liked sounding mysterious, especially considering it wasn’t often he got to.

Giuseppe laughed. “I can appreciate that. Looks like we’ve both set up shop pretty well out here though. I’ve heard about your fights.”

Tony smiled modestly in reply and Giuseppe moved on to their next patron.

The shop Giuseppe had set up, as they rather modestly put it, had a line of tables along a glass-panelled wall affording a magnificent view of the town it oversaw, bathed in candlelight encased in intricately carved glass and marble holders in place of electric lighting. Tony generally sat at the bar, seeing as how it was the only place where a solitary diner could get a table. In addition to the countless bottles proudly on display behind the counter, a carousel to the left shielded in a glass casing boasted a most delicate selection of wines. Tony generally wouldn’t drink much but did order a lot of pie and usually ended up taking a little home (in all honesty though, “home” ended up meaning the walk there).

Today, something a little different was in store. Usually the walk home was quiet, the cool evening breeze mixing with the pie’s (somehow everlasting) aromas as he walked home, a whistle on his lips and not a care in the world. This time, a familiar face emerged from the shadows.

“Hello, Tony.”

Tony whipped around abruptly, keeping one hand on his box of pie and the other up in a defensive stance. The minotaur from the other night stared down at him, his face entirely expressionless. His horns were no longer wrapped, their deep green mixing with the night.

“There’s no need for that,” he continued. “Please, relax.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously.

“My name is Taur. Yes, Taur, the minotaur. Go ahead, I’ve heard all the jokes.”

Tony stifled a laugh and let down his guard. “Pie?” he offered.

“No, thanks. But please, follow me. We’ve got something to show you.” Taur turned around and began walking down the other side of the hill, opposite to Tony’s house, without waiting to see if he latter would follow.

Tony considered his options. On the one hand, he could go home, maybe drop in on Mr Tunt’s poker game, and go to bed with beer and pie in his stomach. On the other, Taur’s appearance felt like something out of a movie with secret agents recruiting an unsuspecting citizen to save the world. He knew it was stupid, he knew it didn’t make sense. He also knew there was no way he would be sleeping tonight if he didn’t find out what Taur wanted to show him. He jogged to catch up.

Liking the story? Consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience!💜 Continue reading below :)

↝✧↝

“Quit your complaining. You got to pick the bookshop, I pick the hike,” Bella chided.

“Yeah, well, at least you liked the bookshop too. I’ll never understand what you like about running through the woods and mosquitoes, all drenched in sweat.”

“Oh, shut it. You’ll see. You’ll love it by the end,” she said forging ahead, much more chipper than he was.

“Starting to think staying in the city would have been better,” Berto muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” he said, running to keep up with her.

Berto eventually ended up sharing some of Bella’s enthusiasm after a while, but there was no way he could give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right, so made sure to grumble periodically. In the middle of one such complain, Bella shushed him abruptly.

“Wait, shut up.”

“Hey!”

“Shh! Look there,” she said, pointing an extended arm ahead of them. The trees grew shorter and shorter as they hiked further away from the town boundary and stood somewhere around the eight-feet mark where Bella was pointing.

There were two men ahead of them, one of whom had their head quite literally in the trees. She couldn’t quite make them out, but she thought she saw horns protruding out from the sides of the head too; they blended in with the evergreen trees overhead, making it seem like they were only sometimes there. The two didn’t seem like hikers: they had no backpack or gear of any sort – not even a water bottle – and one of them was carrying a box marked with the sign of La Francesca, a restaurant both Berto and Bella had been meaning to visit.

The taller one seemed to be in charge, as if he were leading the other somewhere, but it didn’t feel like a hostage situation. Bella could make out conversational noises coming from them, but couldn’t quite understand what was being said.

“Want to follow them?” she asked Berto.

“Are you insane? Have you seen the size of that guy? If we follow him and it turns out we aren’t welcome, we’re done for.”

“Oh, come on. If he didn’t want to be followed, he should have been quieter. He’s clearly leading the other guy somewhere. Aren’t you even a little curious where?”

Now that she pointed it out, Berto saw it too. The larger of the two walked with purpose and navigated the forest’s uneven terrain with ease. He knew these grounds.

“Goddamn it,” he finally caved.

Berto and Bella followed the other two until the trees narrowed to a passage and eventually gave way to a large clearing enclosed in a circle of trees of its own. The taller man strode confidently forward down the line of trees and the other followed, albeit a little more meekly. Berto and Bella followed until they reached the clearing, at which point they hung back, huddled in the shelter of the trees. They were too far away to make out much of what was being said and their view was shielded both by the absurdly large people there and the trees standing guard.

“What do you think’s going on?” Berto asked.

Bella shushed him. “Shut up! We don’t want them to hear us.”

They observed in silence, desperately trying to hear even a snippet. Berto inched a little closer, dangling from a tree with an outstretched arm.

And that was his mistake.

The towering man had only made it a little past the edge when Berto’s foot caught a protruding root and he tripped and crushed a set of twigs underfoot.

The man whipped around, confirming the fact that Bella was not, indeed, hallucinating the horns, and snarled at them, menacingly stepping closer.

“Just what do you think you two are doing here?” he questioned, drawing out each syllable threateningly.

Berto and Bella shuddered in fright by way of reply, something that only seemed to anger him more.

“If you know what’s good for you, you two will leave. Now!” he bellowed.

“Hey!” came a familiar voice from somewhere in the back. “Ease up on the threats. They’re cool.”

Alecia.

Berto and Bella relaxed a little. They had been going to her diner almost every day and had become good friends in that time. Seeing her there eased their worries a little.

“Really though, you guys should get out of here,” she continued, getting up and walking towards them. “This place is kind of invite-only and we’re pretty serious about that. Taur more than others.” Taur gave a low growl to punctuate that last addition and huffed.

Berto and Bella gave Alecia a nod of thanks who promised them answers when they next met, and they hurried away, but not before Berto glimpsed Alia amongst the crowd giving him a little wave with an embarrassed smile.

↝✧↝

thanks for reading!

if you don't want to wait for the week-on-week releases, you can grab all 7 parts here for free! it’s a big, 33-page PDF, so you’ll get plenty of bang for your non-buck - whatcha waiting for?

Update: PART 5

my writing is entirely reader-supported, so I’d be thrilled if you could drop a coin or two into my tip jar! :)

annnnnd I may or may not slip a couple of for-your-eyes-only book bundles under the table as a little thanks ;)

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[believerindaydreams]

Things I am considering paying Failbetter actual money for:

"The Gift", because I've been meaning to since forever. And Dock Favours. 30 fate.

"Cricket, anyone?" Seems way popular. I like cricket. 45 fate.

Aunt: I do not want an aunt. I do want free action refreshes. 15 fate.

"Say it with flowers" It's a spy story set at the Cumaean Canal. This is almost but not quite guaranteed to have lore relevant to my Cynical Herald OC. 45 fate.

Picnic: it's only one fate. It's a picnic. Yes.

Mr Hearts' Meat Counter: actively unhelpful. But I don't have a 28 Seeker main for nothing. 2 fate.

Stormy eyed options: I like stormy eyed but there's, like, way too many options for bits of fate? Call it 20 or so.

Criminal faction item: I would like to see the flavour text that gives you a ridiculous hat. 5 fate.

Invite Slowcake to your party: okay I don't like him but this sounds funny. Five fate.

A sumptuous repast: clears wounds on restorative card. Pointless but I wanna read it. Five fate.

Copper cypher ring: one Great Games favour and some faction flavour text. Five fate.

A lapse of memory: five fate to get rid of my turncoat quality because I never could run Boxful of Intrigue. Five fate. Worth it.

Benefactor reset: you know what, shadowy would be very useful. To get. Eight fate.

The cursed university lab upgrades: 10 plus 10? Sigh

Record the name of your Ship/Spouse:

20 fate. Sounds fun.

Silk gloves: okay I knew I missed some festival freebies. Ten fate for player of chess gloves doesn't sound insane.

Set fire to your mirror: running out of memories of light sounds rather easier these days. And I would pay 11 fate to spite the Manager

Come back from the dead, 11 fate. I just want the flavour text honestly.

Jovial Contrarian Parabola picnic: YES. 12 fate.

Mrs Plenty, ditto: even more yes. 12 fate.

Wry Functionary: I make it 18 for his special content. And written by Emily. Yes.

Kill Jack the Ripper: 30 fate. Mayyyyyybe.

Upwards: good rewards once I hit the bone market. Probably. 25 fate.

Mushroom Dream: wine grinding and zailing. Goody. 25 fate.

Corpulent Carriage: I do not want another transport. It costs thirty fate. But also, I want a Corpulent Carriage.

The Ceremony: thirty five for more Honey Addled Detective. Damn it.

Velvet cloak with burning buttons: cool cool cool. Retired. Cost thirty five fate. Still want it.

Helicon House amber: forty fate. I haven't even seen the place yet. But I think I may like it.

"Flint" apparently Apis Meet is a bad carousel these days. But a new Zee port that isn't a doddery tomb colony sounds neat. And I would like the lore. 120 fate (ouch! Certainly the most postponable)

[coopdigitalnewsletter]

19 Dec 2022: What if shops didn’t sell things?

[Image: a collage of Kuka/Ruscha/Burtynsky]

Hail and farewell

This is the last Co-op Digital newsletter. It has had an excellent and enjoyable run, thank you to everyone who helped get it going with decisions, everyone who kept it going with content, and everyone who read it. We’ve been wrapping up with 3 questions. Previously: more radical membership and more than a shop? 

Thank you all for reading and sending ideas. The Co-op story continues on the magnificent Co-op Digital blog. Rod will still be writing about climate change and carbon transformation at Holdfast and about money at Checksies. See you there?

What if shops didn’t sell things?

Supermarkets and many other types of retail businesses are often high volume/tight margin machines, looking to increase volume and find small gains and complementary products and services with higher margins. Will this always be the case? 

As climate change bites into the world, making it less predictable, will the cost and availability of materials change the dynamic for retail? Do supply chains fracture? Will managing the entire lifecycle of products and packaging add cost that makes retail unviable, or will it unlock new business? Can shopping fit into circular economies if recycling and reuse becomes central? What if shops bought things from you, instead of selling them to you?

2040

Aya looks the length of the warehouse. There’s a haze in the distance where the unfactory starts and above the superstructure is barely visible behind the ambient dayglow. A city inside a building.

She pulls the door shut on her housing unit and walks to the bus stop. There’s only a couple of minutes to wait before a driverless bus pulls up. These carbon grey boxes crawl the building, patiently looping between the different work, housing and leisure zones.

Aya gets on the bus and sits. Her glasses immediately pop up an interactive about hitting this month’s KPIs. With a glance she flicks it away, and looks the other way to access shopping. A carousel of plaid shirts flickering across the field of view, partly obscuring the view out of the window of apartment blocks, terraced 2-up 2-downs, community centres, and behind her in the distance parkland and the executive mcmansions. Aya considers buying a shirt that says 2005 and has all the confidence of that era. The checkout dances and says: “Hey you know you could put that 229.50 into something more long term? Say Pension to put it to work for you.” Aya sighs, shuts her eyes and whispers “Cancel”, the UI an afterimage in reversed colours.

Aya steps off the bus at the warehousing zone and passes through two layers of perimeter security: ID badge and then a tongue print which performs ID verification and a recreational drugs test. Now she is matter-side. She steps through the air wall into a cavernous space: kilometres of racking, ducting, assembly areas, disassembly areas, recycling, storage, cabling, transport, uncountable shelves of racking and gigantic bays of raw material.

10 years ago, at peak shopping, this building was Amazon’s largest fulfilment centre, the entire building performing inventory, pick and pack - all of it heading into cardboard boxes, out the loading bays and to everyone’s home via the Amazon-only lanes on the motorways. 

Since then, the building has grown and evolved in response to 15 years of carbon budgets and circular economy targets. The shadow of the smile logo is still faintly visible on the wall. The work is now two-way: they’re doing as much inbound for recycling as they do outbound retail: the increasing value of material feedstocks made disassembly and recycling higher margin businesses. Across the way, building crews are pulling out the pick and pack racking, and hauling in more recyc stations.

Conveyor belts of toys, consumer goods, electronics, plastic items, everything. Some things are automatically sorted, separated by size or material type into smaller flows on smaller conveyors, a river delta. The metal goes off along a conveyor to be remelted in a distant area. The plastic is ripped apart into uncountable white-edged grains of feed stock. 

Further away, and behind more layers of security, are the goop vats where the synthetic bio voodoo happens. There’s a smell of ammonia and long chain polymers everywhere, which the air ducting cannot ever remove entirely.

Here though, the river belt meanders through rows of stations, where human-robot pairs work next to each other, pulling objects off the main belt and moving them to several smaller tributary belts for onward sorting.

Aya walks up to the only unstaffed station. A fixed robot is at the wide conveyor belt. Its body is a 7-axis spine of rotatable stainless steel segments that look more like muscles than components. Its arm ends in an array of cameras, lidar sensors and rubber tipped and suction manipulators. Around the robot is a 2 metre no-go zone hashed out in hazard orange. It has placed several objects in that space around its base. A Casio watch. A christmas tree toy. A clown painting on black velvet. Lego pieces.

The supervisor approaches and shrugs at Aya: “You make it work, if you can. I in’t going near it though…” Aya swipes her badge into the work station. The robot’s arm monitors everything that passes on the belt under it, occasionally twitching as if indecisive. But it is not moving and not sorting items.

Aya watches the belt for a while and reaches out to pick up an old lunch box in blue and red plastic. She shows it to the robot, and then with great care Aya places it on the floor, inside the no-go zone, and steps back. The robot’s arm bends, the array inspecting the lunchbox for several seconds. 

Then it straightens, moves back over the belt, and starts grabbing objects and sorting them.

Thank you for reading

Thank you friends, readers and contributors. If you want to find out more about Co-op Digital, follow @CoopDigital on Twitter and read the Co-op Digital Blog. Previous newsletters. Stay strong.

[indokuwaitindustries]

✨ 10 Surprising Facts About Modular Kitchens That Designers Never Reveal!✨

When it comes to modern kitchens, most people believe they know the essentials: aesthetics, space, and efficiency. But modular kitchens hold secrets that even top designers seldom share! Let’s uncover these hidden gems to help you make the best decision for your kitchen transformation.

1️⃣ Modular Kitchens Are Fully Customizable

Many think modular kitchens come as factory-standard designs. The truth? You can customize every element to suit your unique needs, from layouts and finishes to storage solutions. Whether it’s a compact modular kitchen in Karnal or a luxurious one in Yamunanagar, customization is key.

2️⃣ They’re a Long-Term Money Saver 💰

While the initial investment may seem higher, modular kitchens pay off in the long run. Durable materials like HDHMR ensure your kitchen lasts longer, reducing frequent repair costs. If you’re searching for a best modular kitchen designer near me, Indo Kuwait Industries will guide you toward energy-efficient appliances that not only enhance functionality but also cut down utility bills, making it a smart and sustainable choice!

3️⃣ Material Matters More Than You Think

Not all materials are equal. Top modular kitchens, designed by the best modular kitchen designer in Yamunanagar, use HDHMR boards, which are water-resistant, termite-proof, and more durable than traditional plywood. Looking for a sustainable option? Corian surfaces, often recommended by the best modular kitchen manufacturer in Yamunanagar, are a game-changer for modern homes!

4️⃣ Space Hacks You Didn’t Know Exist 📏

Hidden treasures like pull-out baskets, magic corners, and carousel units maximize space utilization. These smart solutions are perfect for small areas, making them ideal for a modular kitchen Karnal or other compact homes.

5️⃣ Acrylic Finishes Are Trending for a Reason

Acrylic is not just about the glossy look — it’s scratch-resistant, low-maintenance, and retains its shine for years. It’s no wonder it’s a favorite choice among the best modular kitchen designer in Karnal.

6️⃣ Modular Kitchens Are Eco-Friendly 🌿

Sustainability is no longer optional. Choose eco-friendly materials like Corian or HDHMR to create a modern, green kitchen. Modular kitchens also reduce material waste during installation!

7️⃣ Designed for Easy Repairs 🔧

One of the biggest advantages of modular kitchens is their replaceable components. Whether it’s a damaged drawer or a broken panel, repairs are quick and affordable.

8️⃣ Lighting Makes All the Difference 💡

Good lighting enhances functionality and ambiance. LED under-cabinet lights are energy-efficient and perfect for task lighting, transforming your cooking experience.

9️⃣ More Hygienic Than Traditional Kitchens

Modular kitchens come with seamless surfaces and properly sealed edges, reducing dirt accumulation. This makes cleaning a breeze and your kitchen more hygienic.

🔟 Designed for Busy Lifestyles

With pre-installed fittings and optimized layouts, modular kitchens are perfect for today’s busy lifestyles. They save time and effort, making cooking a pleasure, not a chore.

FAQs About Modular Kitchens

Q1. What’s the ideal material for modular kitchens?

HDHMR boards are highly recommended for their water and termite resistance. Acrylic and Corian are excellent finishes for durability and aesthetics.

Q2. Are modular kitchens suitable for small spaces?

Absolutely! Compact solutions like pull-out drawers and corner units optimize space, making them perfect for small kitchens.

Q3. Why choose Indo Kuwait Industries?

We’re the best modular kitchen designer in Karnal and Yamunanagar, offering tailor-made solutions with premium materials and cutting-edge designs.

Q4. How do I find a reliable modular kitchen designer near me?

Look for a designer with expertise, great reviews, and a variety of customization options. Indo Kuwait Industries ticks all these boxes!

Conclusion

Investing in a modular kitchen is not just about aesthetics; it’s about creating a space that’s functional, durable, and tailored to your lifestyle. Whether you’re searching for the best modular kitchen designer in Yamunanagar or planning a modular kitchen Karnal, knowing these hidden facts will help you make an informed choice.

Contact Indo Kuwait Industries

Address: INDO KUWAIT INDUSTRIES, NH-73A, near NEELAM PETROL PUMP, Ganga Nagar Colony, CHHACHHRAULI ROAD, Jagadhri, Haryana 135003

Call Us Today: +91–74660–00028

Serving Areas: Yamunanagar , Karnal and Nearby Areas

Tap to Follow us on Social media to stay updated with trends

Let’s make your dream kitchen a reality! 🚪✨

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