#day 23 trinket

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

Beep Beep

@flufftober day 23 Trinket Garvez WC: 655 Ao3

“What is this?” Luke asks with interest picking the small gold bag that’s just been placed on his desk up by the straps, “A gift? For moi?”

“Oh, don’t- don’t let it go to your head. I get everyone gifts, I’m very giving, as you may remember. And it’s just a little thing. Just a- you know, a trinket. A token of good faith that I’m on the right track again and I’ve got my head in the game and, and… and I’m sorry…for being a jerk” she adds slowly, knowing he doesn’t want to re-live the cringe-inducing moment of manic oversharing any more than she does. 

Things between them since then had been weird in a he-should-have-been-weird-any-normal-person-would-have-been-weird-but-he-wasn’t sort of way and she hadn’t said sorry and it was sitting in her stomach growing every day since that she hadn’t acknowledged what she’d done was…not good. 

Especially to do to him…given… 

The bag has some weight to it but it’s not large, making Luke all the more curious about its contents. Now holding it by the base, he tips it, the item sliding easily into his palm. He brings the small rectangular object up, squinting as he turns it left and right in a faux display of inspection. He then looks at her, a queer questioning look on his face, but smiling. Always smiling. 

“Penelope, this a pager. Where did you find this? Does it even work? I don’t think the Bureau’s used pagers in 30 years- actually, I don’t think they ever used them. I’m not even sure Rossi-”

“Zuuuzzhh!” she buzzed, covering his lips with her finger, “I KNOW. YES it works. Look. There’s only one number that will ever be on it, and,” she paused, fumbling in her skirt pocket, then triumphantly pulling something out, “there will only ever be one on mine. Ok?” 

Luke regards her for a moment and for that moment she can’t breathe, the weight and meaning of what she’s said pressing on both of them, the understanding in the look he’s giving her. This was a terrible idea. The worst idea.

Carefully, quietly, he treads, “Penelope, are you saying this is just for you and I?” 

And then she does it though she doesn’t want to, she turns and retreats. “Oh, my go- can’t you ever- just. Not think too deep? It’s not that deep.”

 “But, Like, obviously, if it’s an emergency, call” she turns back to add, before nearly stumbling at Luke rising to follow her. 

It’s just for them. A simple, complicated, impractical, long ago thing. A way to stay in touch but not connected to everyone else. Just them. But she looks like….he hates what she looks like. Hates needing to give her that levity and space after so long, but he does, he couldn’t not give her what she needs, “You know we need a secret code now-“

“Ugh.” she shakes her head. -Thank you-

“I mean, how are you going to know what-“ he continues, making a joke out of it.

Whipping around, she finds him face to face and juts her hand palm-up at waist level, “I change my mind- give it back I’m going to chuck it into the-” 

“Noo,” Luke laughs, pushing the hand down and pulling away, making a show of keeping it high out of her reach, “this is mine now, no take backs, Chica. Possession is nine-tenths of the law”

“I hate you.” Penelope glares before spinning back to march off. 

“I don’t think you do.” Luke teases, jogging after a second to catch up to her quickly escaping form.

“Well you’re wrong, like always, and I do.” she says over her shoulder. 

“This pager says otherwise” he sings, letting her go, watching her go.

“That pager will never say anything, so have fun carrying it around,” are the final words in the discussion, but a secret smile fixes itself to two sets of lips, smiles that would stay the rest of the day.

[divinemissem13]

Bits and Baubles

Flufftober, day 23: Trinket Fandom: Star Trek Voyager Ship: Janeway/ Chakotay AO3 link

Like the Delta Quadrant equivalent of a souvenir keychain, he brings back something small from each away mission (the peaceful ones anyway). There is no grand presentation, no elaborate ceremony of devotion. She just finds them the next day, sitting on her chair on the bridge or on the desk in her ready room. 

Sometimes, when they encounter an actual civilization, he might buy something small at the market. From the uninhabited planets, he brings back a unique stone or a leaf (or on one occasion, a fossilized insect!). 

She convinces herself it doesn’t mean anything. They are only mementos meant to catalog their journey. She preserves them for the sake of research.

It’s not like when Molly would bring her a stick, or a ball, or (God forbid) something else dug up from the dirt. Molly would drop the gifts into her lap and look up at her, tongue hanging out, with a mix of love, admiration, and pride shining through her eyes from the very core of her being.

No, those ‘gifts’ from Molly were signs of love, in the only way a dog knows to show it. 

These little trinkets from him - they’re just practical. 

Aren’t they? 

[distant-screaming]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: OMORI (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hero/Mari (OMORI), Aubrey & Basil & Hero & Kel & Mari & Sunny (OMORI) Characters: Mari (OMORI), Hero (OMORI), Kel (OMORI), Aubrey (OMORI), Basil (OMORI), Sunny (OMORI) Additional Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Pre-Canon, Established Relationship, Best Friends, Children, Cute, Chores, Treasure Hunting Series: Part 23 of Flufftober 2023 Summary:

Mari and Hero wash dishes, flirt, and get a real treasure demonstration. Kind of in that order.

(or: pre canon heromari + friends)

[mslaevateinn]

A trinket to remember their rocky start and get him through the rocky days

Here is a drabble for the twenty-third day of Promptober!

Written for: “Trinket” for @flufftober

Pairing: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets No warnings Word count: 100

Hugh touched the chain around his neck. He had picked up the habit a few years into his relationship with Paul, whenever his partner did something reckless.

Can be found on AO3!

Hugh touched the chain around his neck. He had picked up the habit a few years into his relationship with Paul, whenever his partner did something reckless. Lately with the spore drives, he had been doing it a lot. Despite helping to design a safer navigational tool than the barbaric system Paul had been using… Hugh was never serene.

But this necklace, as illogical as it sounded, helped. Paul had bought it for their meeting’s anniversary on Alpha Centauri. A gem pendant, star and their initials. A trinket to remember their rocky start and get him through the rocky days.

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

Prompt Day 23: Trinket

Fandom: Bob’s Burgers

Ship: Frondbrose (Mr. Ambrose/Phillip Frond)

Rating/Length: 3,302; T

Tags: Dolls, Mr. Frond’s therapy dolls, Petty Theft, Petty as in he doesn’t steal much and petty as in ambrose is petty, Idiots in Love, the feelings are mutual but they’re both dumb, Witchcraft, Crystals, Canon typical Ambrose drama, Flufftober 2023, Fluff

Summary: The doll looked just like Phillip Frond. Right down to the little damn sweater vest and glasses; the man had knitted them by hand too. It was terrifying how accurate it really was. Jasper dropped the doll back on the desk, making a face and moving to wipe his hand on the back of his pants as if he could rid his fingers of the offending object.

“Who the fuck knits dolls of their own likeness?” He sneered under his breath, glancing around the office.

Jasper Ambrose finds a tiny knitted likeness of Phillip Frond, steals it, and realizes his true motives and just why he can’t stop thinking about what happened in the closet.

A continuation of flufftober day 18 “This Never Happened”

Day twenty-three of flufftober 2023: trinket

@flufftober

[rainbowfey]

Day 23: Trinket

@flufftober

Kushina slowly grabbed another pickle and pulled the peanut butter jar a bit closer while watching Minato intently. He was shuffling about, scurrying from the kitchen to the living room to the hallway and all the way back to the kitchen. Even just watching him made her nervous. Usually, Minato was the calm and level-headed one of the both of them but right now he seemed more like a headless chicken running around. He kept grabbing one thing, running to another room, setting it back down in a different place and picking up something else. A bit curious, she observed how he picked up a small red plushie for the third time, only to bring it back to the kitchen from where he had taken it away only a couple of minutes earlier. Kushina contemplated whether she should say something but she decided that a good bite of the pickle would be the better option.

The pickle crunched between her teeth, its sour taste blending with the smoothness of the peanut butter to a divine amalgam. She closed her eyes in relish, mesmerized by the taste explosion on her tongue. But suddenly, she felt a movement close to hear and Minato’s voice grew louder.

“What if you need to visit the doctor while I’m gone?” he asked, sounding a bit panicked.

Kushina opened her eyes again and saw that his face had twisted with concern, his big blue eyes wide opened. She gave him a soft smile and shook her head. “Don’t worry, that won’t be the case.”

Minato’s voice almost cracked when he immediately shot back, “But what if it is?”

Kushina stared at him, pondering about what to say to calm him down. While Minato returned her gaze looking almost a bit fearful, she had an idea. Carefully, she fumbled another pickle out of the jar and put some peanut butter on it. Then she held it out to Minato, giving him an asking look. “Take one, that’ll help,” she said.

Minato grimaced and took a step back. “No, thank you. I think I’m fine.”

Kushina furrowed an eyebrow threateningly, fixating her gaze on him. “I mean it, honey. Take one!”

She could almost feel Minato’s reluctance when he slowly crept closer, his eyes focused on the pickle, a hint of horror on his face. Hesitantly, he accepted the pickle and stared at it as if it was going to poison him even by only touching his skin.

“Take a bite,” Kushina said, staring at Minato who pulled a rather unhappy face now. “It’s delicious, don’t worry.” “I doubt that,” Minato said under his breath but he did as she asked and took the tiniest bite Kushina had ever seen of the peanut buttered pickle.

She grinned to herself when his face twisted while he chewed. His eyes started watering but he did give her a reassuring smile, even though it seemed a bit forced. When he got ready to take a second bite, Kushina couldn’t hold her laughter back and softly grabbed his wrist. “It’s all good, you don’t have to do it just to make me happy,” she said with a grin. “I know you find it disgusting.”

Minato shook his head emphatically. “No, I don’t! It just tastes a bit … peculiar, I’d say.”

Kushina’s grin widened and she patted his hand. “It’s fine. Normally I wouldn’t be craving a combination like this either. But it did take your mind off of your worries!”

Minato paused and looked at her a bit surprised. “You’re right,” he said almost incredulously. “This taste really does drive out everything else.”

The small accomplishment gave Kushina a feeling of pride and she smiled at him. “Peanut butter and pickles make the perfect potion to calm you down.” She tenderly stroked his hand and got a bit more serious. “Everything will be fine, Minato, I promise. You have nothing to worry about. If anything, I should be the one worrying!”

He looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Kushina tilted her head and eyed him pensively. “Well, you are the one going on a mission, not me. I’ll stay here in safety while you go fight some bad guys. So, you have no right to be worried when you’re the one getting himself into a dangerous situation.”

Minato couldn’t stifle a laugh at her words. “Kushina, I’m not fighting bad guys. My team and I will accompany a person of significance from one location to another. They hired us as a safety precaution, not because they’re expecting any trouble.”

Kushina knew that and of course, she wasn’t too concerned. After all, Minato was the greatest shinobi she knew and his team also had something on the ball. She did hope however that reminding him of his upcoming mission would take his mind off of his concerns about her. “Yes but you never know, right? You’ll still have to be careful and keep an eye out for any signs of danger.”

Minato came closer and smiled at her tenderly. He carefully laid his hand on her stomach and stroked it softly. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll be back in no time for you and our little one.”

Kushina leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Are you feeling better now?”

Minato paused and seemed to think about it before he nodded slowly. “I think so. But … I don’t want to leave. I can’t stand the thought of being away from you and our little guy.”

Kushina melted away at his loving, but slightly sad tone. Compassion arose in her when she saw the conflict in his eyes. Pickles and peanut butter did provide a distraction for a short while but now she realized that his inner turmoil was deeper than that. From the corner of her eye, she saw something red and fluffy and suddenly, she had an idea. She carefully got up and walked around the kitchen isle to grab the red plushie lying on the surface forlornly where Minato had set it down a bit earlier.

Kushina smiled when her fingers grazed the cottony surface of the plushie. It had a shape that vaguely reminded her of a toad while Minato had insisted that it looked like a red blob with big puppy eyes. The plushie was holding a small trinket in its little hands that vaguely reminded her of a coin engraved with the Namikaze clan’s symbol – this was what had tipped the scales for her to buy this plushie instead of another one. She walked back to where he was sitting and showed him the plushie. “Remember when we bought this?” she asked and smiled when Minato’s expression softened instantly.

He nodded with a mellow grin and reached for her, poking his finger against the small trinket the plushie was holding on to. “Of course, I do. You said this looks just like one of my summoned toads wearing my clan’s symbol. You also said it would be our little one’s first plushie when he’s born.”

Kushina nodded affirmingly and stroked the plushie absentmindedly, her finger grazing the fine lines on the trinket. “You know what our little guy would love even more? If his daddy told him stories about how his toad plushie went on adventures with him.”

Minato looked at her curiously and asked, “What do you mean?”

She carefully put the plushie into Minato’s hand and smiled at him. “This one will be our little one’s lucky charm. You’ll take the plushie with you so that it can be full of adventures when you return. You look after the plushie and I take care of our little one until you come back. Deal?”

Minato looked at her with big eyes for a moment but then he turned the plushie around until he saw its face smiling at him from above the trinket with its delicate symbol. For a while, he looked at it, his eyes full of affection. Then he nodded slowly and set the plushie in his lap, facing Kushina. He protectively cupped it with his hands and looked at her solemnly. “I’ll take good care of this small buddy – and when I come back, the three of us will take care of our little one together!”

[spookyvalentine]

fifty questions for rook

(no spoilers!)

Round two (spoilers)

veilguard is finally here yall!!!!! and now a set of character building questions for rook, because i wanna know all about them! there will be more question lists as I play the game, but those will be marked with spoilers and under a readmore for the next sixty days

1. How old is Rook?

2. How did Rook get the nickname? What do they think of it?

3. What was Rook’s life before their faction?

4. Which faction did they join, and why? How long has it been?

5. What was life like for Rook before joining the Veilguard?

6. What was the reason that brought Rook to Minrathous?

7. Why does Rook agree to join the Veilguard?

8. What makes Rook a good leader?

9. What is Rook like on the battlefield?

10. Does Rook know their history? Do they know of the HoF, Hawke, the Inquisitor?

11. Does Rook keep up with current events? (How aware of the situation are they at the start of the game?)

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

13. Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse?

14. What does Rook see when they look in the mirror?

15. What’s the first thing people notice when Rook enters a room?

16. Got any tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

17. How’d Rook get those scars?

18. Their fondest childhood memory:

19. What is Rook’s love language? What love languages do they respond best to?

20. What’s it like to see them smile? Their laugh?

21. What does Rook’s voice sound like? One of the voice options available, or do they have a different accent/voicecast?

22. Most embarrassing memory as a teenager:

23. What does Rook wear in the off hours? Do they like dressing up?

24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed?

25. How does Rook like to spend their free time?

26. Rook is in charge of the grocery list. What’s on it?

27. When was the last time they cried?

28. Does Rook have any pets/animal companions?

29. Any vices?

30. What is Rook’s class? Did they choose it?

31. What specialization does Rook pursue? What called them to it?

32. How would a desire demon tempt Rook?

33. What do fear demons look like to Rook?

34. How does Rook begin their day?

35. Ultimate comfort food meal:

36. What would Rook say are their flaws?

37. Does Rook ascribe to a faith?

38. Did Rook have any relationships before Veilguard?

39. What is their room at The Lighthouse like?

40. Describe Rook’s bed:

41. What’s on their nightstand?

42. Something Rook regrets:

43. Is Rook the type to gossip?

44. What is Rook really good at?

45. Who was Rook’s closest friend before joining the Veilguard?

46. What does it take to earn Rook’s trust?

47. What’s Rook’s temper like?

48. A color, flower, animal, and weather to describe Rook:

49. What will always make them laugh?

50. Are they a mystery, or an open book?

+1 What does Rook smell like?

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

how I percieve Hotchniss:

as requested by @em-prentiss

emily:

tropes: action girl, blue blood, lady in a powersuit, back from the dead, brainy brunette, dark and troubled past, honour before reason, sarcasm personified, reckless and sexy

she/her

libra sun, scorpio moon, leo rising

bisexual 

born 12th october 1970

chaotic neutral

ENFJ personality type

cat person

only child - and very much gives only child energy

red is her favourite colour

body count: "private, thank you very much!"

her favourite movie of all time is 'Carrie' - but she can't resist a good old mystery novel

has some secret skills she doesn't really talk about or use until she needs them; plays the piano, did ballet until she was 15, can horseback ride.

her favourite book of all time is 'Jane Eyre'

dog ears her books to save her pages - either that or uses literally anything as a bookmark. argues that it makes her books look 'loved'

her favourite meal is a good cheeseburger (although she'll tell you its some kind of fancy pasta)

chews her nails when she's stressed

grew up in multiple embassies across the world including: UK, Iraq, Russia, Italy, France, Greece, Spain, and Egypt.

mommy issues galore although she'd never admit it

daddy issues, too, while we're at it.

absentee father who was 'working' all the time - only 'working' meant having affairs and avoiding their home as much as possible

her parents only put on the show of a functional, happy marriage for elizabeth's career, a charade emily was also expected to play a part in. she did so until she went away to college

her dad died when she was 23

nomadic lifestyle all her life due to her mom's job - finds it hard to settle down as a result

has a little box of mementos from each of the places she's lived, trinkets that would be of no value to anyone else but mean a lot to her

has a few small, discreet tattoos

multi-lingual but not a show off about it - sometimes dreams in italian

is also multilingual in sarcasm and often uses it to diffuse tense situations.

had an abortion when she was 15 - doesn't regret it but has always wondered. marks the day each year, even if it's just with a prayer. it's the only time she prays

✨️ religious trauma ✨️ 

rebelled against her mother as a teenager and their relationship has never really recovered

spoilt, privileged lifestyle 

likes her luxuries as a result and doesn't shy away from them 

never had too many close friends growing up - due to the moving around a lot

bit of a wild girl at college, there's not really a sexual position or an illegal substance she hasn't tried at least once (except the ones you inject, she's not insane)

still sneaks the occasional cigarette

cannot abide by any rule she considers arbitrary

loves a good horror movie, the gorier the better but the supernatural ones freak her out

has a secret passion for classical music when she’s stressed - particularly beethoven and bach

emily has a love for fine wine and is something of an amateur connoisseur, able to tell the difference between a good vintage and a cheap bottle. she and rossi bond over this.

her passion for coffee, however, is much more lax and she can drink even the roughest of instant crap. 

can also whip up a mean martini

she’s a cat person but never had a pet growing up due to all the moving around.

emily’s guilty pleasure is reality TV—she finds it oddly comforting and a way to unwind from the seriousness of her day-to-day life.

often doodles when she's on the phone—her notebooks are full of random sketches.

loves an indoor plant but finds it incredibly difficult to keep them alive

fucking loves technology and is slightly addicted to TikTok. has to limit her own screen time.

speaking of TikTok, she's totally on BookTok and loved the ACOTAR series.

loves spicy foods - often challenges herself to try the hottest dish on the menu.

bit of an adrenaline junkie, whether in her home or professional life. overly impulsive sometimes as a result

what she wears:

aaron:

tropes: badass in a nice suit, stoic leader, chronic hero syndrome, highest kill count, death glare, grumpy to her sunshine, deadpan snarker

he/him

scorpio sun, taurus moon, virgo rising

heterosexual

born 2nd november 1965

lawful good

ISTJ personality type

dog person

bodycount: 2

favourite colour is navy blue

eldest son, his brother, sean, is 11 years younger than him

his favourite book is 'one hundred years of solitude'

prioritizes his fitness and likes to take on fitness challenges to keep himself healthy

lonely childhood even though he had a little brother

abusive, drunk for a father

emotionally absent mother who was trying to deal with her own trauma

his mom died when he was 25

his dad is still alive out there somewhere but they're not in contact, and aaron has no intention of being

had to be the strong one for his little brother

comes from a pretty poor background, has built himself up to be and have everything he is and has 

always felt like more of a father than a brother to Sean because of their age gap, and the fact that he practically raised him

loves to go camping and be in the wilderness

a morning person - likes to get up and out of the house as early as possible

a very neat person - you'd be forgiven for thinking he was in the military (he never was) by the way he makes his bed and stacks his clothes

collected coins as a kid, something he never grew out of. has a very well organised collection he values greatly

keeps his books neat and tidy - always uses a bookmark

loves an old western, likes an action movie, horrors make him uncomfy and he's a secret sucker for a rom-com

reluctant green thumb and often ends up taking care of the plants that emily brings home and gives up on or gets distracted from

has a soft spot for old-school jazz and sometimes listens to it when he needs to decompress.

he's a surprisingly good cook, which is a skill he honed while having to take care of his brother, although the recipes were a lot more basic back then

still has his parents wedding rings, a fact about himself that he wrestles with since he doubts they were ever in love

prefers handwritten notes to digital reminders, is a very tactile person. never really fell in love with his phone.

hums softly when he's concentrating, a habit he's more often than not completely unaware of, and emily finds it adorable

keeps a stash of chocolate in his drawer in the office - stocks it with emily's favourites

wears his grandfather's class ring. it's the only family heirloom he has, and sometimes he feels guilty for not giving it to sean

has a collection of old vinyls from the 70s

visits the same diner every saturday for breakfast. after getting together with emily, the visits become less frequent but they still go now and then. aaron says they have the best eggs. emily thinks they're just ok, but she likes to see him happy

aaron isn't a big drinker; he'll have a few beers on a night out, or a whiskey after work occasionally, but he very rarely engages in any binge drinking. emily's only seen him really drunk a handful of times throughout their relationship.

he is, however, partial to the occasional cigar and although emily sneaks her own cigarette now and then, she can't stand the smell of them.

what he wears:

Hotchniss:

the only time hotch is not a morning person is when emily is in his bed, then he never wants to leave the comfort of the covers and the warmth of her body

hotch will watch a horror movie with emily with a straight face, but hate it the whole way through. emily will pretend to be into his action movies, and doesn't let him know she's actually bored out of her mind. their middle ground is a good western or a rom-com.

their first big fight is over a clash between their idea of 'tidy' - emily is laid back, doesn't mind a bit of clutter. aaron is...borderline ocd. they fall out over her having left a towel on the floor...again.

they are very well matched at chess, and often their games can go on for weeks in between cases and life. currently emily is winning by two games.

aaron would rather to repairs around the house himself, where as emily is used to throwing money at a problem and making it go away. they try to compromise but they're away so often for work that more often than not, emily wins because aaron just doesn't have the time, but when he does take on a project he loves the manual labour, and emily loves to sit back and watch x

it was his dream to restore a classical care so emily bought him one for his 50th birthday and its his pride and joy. he painted it red just for her

emily reads before bed and aaron does the crossword, with his glasses perched on the end of his nose and emily thinks it's the cutest thing.

emily's love of spicy foods means that more often than not aaron has to resign himself to buying her two meals when the spiciest dish on the menu is just 'a little too spicy' - he doesn't mind, really

they're both incredibly competitive. emily gets sweary and loud when she's in competition, aaron gets smug and smirky and that drives emily up the wall. their second biggest fight, ever, was over a game of monopoly. it's been banned in their household ever since.

emily takes aaron to a ranch for one of his birthdays - to celebrate his love for an old western, and because she thinks he'll love it! turns out aaron hotchner is terrified of horses. emily spent the first day riding and trying to convince him to do the same, and after that they just enjoyed the views and each other's company, and the horses, but from afar.

emily often teases hotch about his love for organization and can’t resist occasionally hiding a few items just to see his reaction. he pretends to be frustrated but secretly finds her antics adorable.

surprisingly, when they go on vacation, it's emily who wants their days planned down to the moment so that they don't miss anything, and aaron who just - finally- wants to relax and 'go with the flow'. emily finds this version of her husband disconcerting.

emily loves to surprise hotch with impromptu weekend getaways. he pretends to grumble about the lack of planning and the expense of it all but secretly enjoys the surprises and the thought she puts into them.

financially, aaron and emily grew up in two very different places. aaron watched his mother scrimp and save every penny to try and provide for him and sean, when she was lucid. when she wasn't, he had to figure it out himself. he's worked since the age of 14. emily had everything in life given to her on a silver platter and, even now, occasionally spends out of her trust fund. aaron gets frustrated by spending that he sees as frivolous and emily has to remind him that they're well off - she still has her trust fund, even if neither of them were working. it's infrequently a source of contention between them, though.

they dated before emily's 'death', before paris. he visited her in paris, where their flame sparked again but when she came back to the team nothing happened. then beth happened. then emily left again.

they stayed in contact while she was in london and eventually realised they were miserable without each other. emily moves back to the states, returns to the BAU and they get back together.

they marry that same year. it's a really small ceremony, attended only by the team, jack and sean. neither of their surviving parents are invited.

they started a two-person book club where they choose a book to read each month and discuss it over dinner. they always donate one copy - whether to charity or a friend. sometimes both if they agree that the book sucked.

they create the 'hotchner cup' which is a trophy that they play for every family game night. it's an old, tarnished badge of hotch's with 'Hotchner' written across it super-glued to an old ballet trophy of emily's. it's currently in emily's possession...due to the chess situation.

emily's a cat person and hotch loves dogs. as a compromise, they have one of each.

when emily has their kids, they share the position of Unit Chief at the BAU and alternate shifts, so someone's always at home with the kids. it's their one rule; the kids never get left alone.

they have three kids together, ava, livvy and alex. jack is aaron's son from his previous marriage to haley, and emily loves him like her own.

they share a home office and walking into it is hysterical; there are two desks and it's immediately obvious whose is whose because aaron's is meticulously organised and emily's is a mess.

aaron always dreads his weeks 'on' at work, because he knows he's going into his desk being an absolute mess. emily is the same because she says whenever he cleans up, he puts her stuff away and she can't find anything. she prefers her 'organised chaos'.

even though emily is a luxury resort kind of girl, aaron forces the family to take an annual camping trip. every year, emily complains about it; alex and ava follow her suit. jack and livvy love the camping trip like their father. even though emily and the kids complain, they also secretly love it.

they take an annual family photo during every camping trip

every year they all celebrate haley's birthday together with a special meal; homemade lasagne followed by apple pie and ice cream, both favourites of haley.

when it comes to parenting, there's no doubt who's the strict parent. emily definitely takes a more relaxed approach than her husband.

however, when it comes to bullying or the kids being in danger, emily has to be kept in check. more than once she's threatened to pull her badge on a kid - or parent - at school. more than once, she's had to be talked down by her husband, and sometimes the kids.

when aaron eventually retires early, he takes up teaching at the academy. they still have lunch together most days.

after aaron retires, emily takes on the role of unit chief by herself and eventually progresses to section chief, which is more of a bureaucratic role than she ever imagined for herself, but it means she gets home to her family every night.

Hotchniss tropes:

grumpy x sunshine rich girl x poor boy he's her boss mutual pining will they/won't they jealousy trope friends to lovers 'touch her and you die'

Photos Aaron takes of Emily:

Photos Emily takes of Aaron:

Joint camera roll:

How Hotchniss text:

Hotchniss playlist:

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Fluff/MW3 spoiler

Listen guys. Soap making Ghost an advent calendar with every day being a small trinket with a note. And day 1 has just a bottle cap with a note: "Picked it up on our first mission together". Day 5: bags of Ghost's favorite tea "I memorized your favorite pretty quickly Lt."

He gets something every day, but there are days with things that make something in Ghost crumble.

Day 10: A bottle opener. "I snatched it from the bar the first time you agreed to go for a drink with us."

Day 15: A hand written cookie recipe. Soap's mom's handwriting. "I would never guess you liked baking, but I knew from the start that my ma' will love you."

Day 20: A small sketch of Ghost's face "I have memorized your every freckle".

Day 23: A bullet case. "I survived because I have you to take care of"

Day 24. A ring " Simon, will you marry me?"

I am in a mood ❤️

[h0neybane]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TWST fankid ask game

༊*·˚ hii!! here's the ask game for ur twst fankids! feel free to reblog this to get people to send these questions. these are also open for me so feel free to send these questions my way!! also i tried to make this cute did i succeed

1. 💌 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What was their first word?

2. 🍼 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What was their parent's reaction to holding them for the first time?

3. 🐣 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Did they ever have any babysitters? Who was the babysitter?

4. 🎒 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How were they on their first day of school?

5. 🍳 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Favorite food as a child? Do they still like it?

6. 💗 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Do they share any expressions with their parent?

7. 💢 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What did they get in trouble for the most as a child?

8. 🎮 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Favorite game as a child? Did they play it with anyone?

9. 🚀 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What did they want to grow up to become? Has that changed in any way?

10. 🚶 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ When and where did they take their first steps? (swims??? if a mer??? or i guess you technically could still do first steps)

11. 🌍 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ If one of the parents is a Yuu, has your fankid ever been back to their home-world? How connected to it are they?

12. 🧸 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Did they have any stuffed animals as a kid? What was their favorite? Do they still have it?

13. ⏳ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's their favorite way to spend time with their family?

14. 💕 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Did they have any childhood friends? Who were they, and are they still close?

15. ✌️⋆.ೃ࿔*:･If they have siblings, how close are they with them? If they're an only child, did they ever want siblings?

16. 👁️⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Do they have any unique physical traits? (moles/freckles, hitchhikers thumb, dimples, etc)

17. 🏡⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What does their room look like at home? What does it look like in their dorm?

18. 🐈‍⬛⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Did they have any pets growing up?

19. 💔⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Have they ever had to deal with loss as a child? How did/would they deal with it?

20. 💘⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Who was their first crush?

21. 📺⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Did they have any favorite shows as a child?

22. 📚 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Do they like to read? What is their favorite book or genre?

23. 😳⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's their guilty pleasure?

24. 👠⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's their sense of fashion? Has it changed over time?

25. 🎻⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Did they take any afterschool lessons as a kid? (music, art, karate, sport, etc)?

26. ⏲️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ If your fankids were transported back in time to the present of TWST, what would be their parents reaction? (basically, your ship meets their future children)

27. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How does your ship parent your fankids? Is there anything that your fankids don't like about it?

28. 🎶 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What songs did they listen to as a child? Do they still like those songs?

29. 🏥 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How were they at their first visit to the doctor?

30. 🎁 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What gifts did they want on their birthdays growing up?

31. 🩷 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How does your ship show affection to your fankids?

32. 🏪 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Did your fankids ever get lost in a store? What was their reaction? What was their parents reaction?

33. 💅 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Do they share any mannerisms or habits with their parents? (bouncing their leg when nervous, playing with hair, etc)

34. 🕷️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Do they have any fears or phobias? Is there a reason for them?

35. 👄 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What physical traits did they inherit from their parents? Did any genes skip a generation and end up on your fankid?

36. 👩 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Do they have a favorite parent? Favorite grandparent? Favorite aunt or uncle? Favorite cousin or sibling?

37. ☹️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's something they SUCK at doing?

38. 👋 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How easily can they make friends?

39. 👛 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Are there any trinkets or objects in their room with sentimental value? (For example, a purse that was a gift from their favorite cousin)

40. 👀 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How aware of their surroundings are they? Do they flinch at the smallest noise, or do they sleep through a hurricane?

41. 😂 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What does their laugh sound like? Is it similar to one of their parents?

42. 🏢 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ If they attend NRC, what dorm would they prefer to be in if not their current dorm? If not attending NRC, but another school, do they like their school? Or do they want to transfer to another?

43. 🏰 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Speaking of NRC dorms, are they in the same dorm as their parent?

44. 💄 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Do they like to wear makeup? What styles or products do they prefer to use?

45. 🛁 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What selfcare products do they like to use?

46. 🍭 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What's their favorite flavor? (cherry, chocolate, matcha, etc)

47. ❄️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How resistant are they to the cold?

48. 🔥 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ How resistant are they to the heat?

49. 🩸 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ What was their first injury? What was their reaction? What was their parents reaction?

50. 🌡️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ When was the first time they got sick? What was their reaction? How did their parents take care of them?

going to stop here and continue later! will edit, reblog and retag when it happens 🌟 edit 10/21: UPDATED WITH 25 MORE QUESTIONS! some are more abt the parents then the kids but shhh....

tags (im just gonna do all my moots with fankids, SORRY IF I ACCIDENTALLY MISS ANYONE):

@blood-red-bumblebee @taruruchi @skibidibabygirl @oya-oya-okay @gimmeurmoneyagh

@screamintoad @angelwishess @twtysevapr @babyghoul138 @beneathsakurashade

@moonyasnow @cheerleaderman @theolivetree123 @viperbunnies

[askinkiskarma]

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪ: ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: It took a lot of time and advancements, but, with the humans' return to Pandora 8 years ago, and thanks to the constant raids of the Omaticaya, the scientists managed to make you and Spider an Avatar. Unlike him, though, you know nothing about and want nothing to do with it, and when your struggle to adapt becomes too overbearing, Jake decided to take matters into his own hands.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), pet names.

wc: 4.5k words

a/n: hi besties, and welcome to my first jake series! i have had this series in my mind for so so long, and it feels good to bring it to life finally. i am excited to get back into writing - i needed a little time to recharge after monster in me, and take a break and actually sleep and live my life hahahaha. anyway, i hope you enjoy this story, i'm so excited to write it and see where it takes me! xx

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, tsamsiyu - warrior, tawtute - human

series masterlist (x)

I want you to know, I’m a mirrorball I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

It was excruciating, the pain. It was never-ending, never relenting, it was enough to warrant the current position you found yourself in, curled up on your bed, knees brought close to your chest, hands grasping at your worn-down pyjamas, that much like everything else in this room, smelled like him, felt like him, was imbued with his presence and the memories he’s left that you’d never be able to forgive or forsake. Glossed-over eyes moved slowly through your room, at all the little trinkets you now had that you didn’t just a few months, all of them sharp and painful as they felt like they were digging painfully in you, leaving cuts and bruises in your already broken heart. Eventually, your gaze settled on a feather you were given the first day in your Avatar body, and it was an appropriate place to stop, as this was when it all began - this whole mess, that you were still debating whether it was worth it, worth all this, but which, at the time, was a pure and innocent new start, in a new body, in a new life.

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces

“Come on, honey, it’s late already. You know life in the village starts early.”

The dragging of your feet did very little to make you appear more enthusiastic than you were feeling currently, and Norm sighed as he took it your deflated predisposition. It should be a happy time. You knew that. How many people can say that got a new chance, at a new life, on this planet that felt weirdly in between a home and a prison? A new chance to belong - the first one, actually. A chance to thrive and to experience this world the way it was meant to be experienced, the way that the natives experienced it. And yet, a few weeks in, you still felt like a complete stranger in a body you couldn’t recognise, in a culture that has never been your own, in a village that has never accepted you, that never ceased to look at you and see through you, right to the flimsy core of insecurities and self-doubts that plagued you constantly, that followed you everywhere you went, like a shadow in a dimly-lit room.

You looked across the room where the other neuro-link pod was being prepped, and next to it stood the only other young, human, adult on Pandora - your brother for all intents and purposes, the boy who you loved always, but hated in the moment, as you watched his lively and animated body language, practically beaming with anticipation. Spider, unlike you, settled in his new taller, bluer, shinier body almost immediately - a born acrobat, a made warrior, even before the Avatars were complete. He had no such compulsions, no shame or guilt, no embarrassment or anxiety, no feelings of inadequacy or imposter syndrome, just a pure, unadulterated joie de vivre and unquenchable fear of missing out. He got everything he’s ever wanted with that Avatar, and unlike you, he didn’t seem willing to squander the opportunity. You knew you should be more like him, and you were trying. The effort just wasn’t enough to overthrow the paralysing fear you felt every time you stepped foot in that village. You wondered if it ever will.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, doing your very best to ignore the racket coming from just a few pods over, you allowed Norm to close the lid on top of your caged body, doing your very best to clear your head of the screaming voice that got louder by the second, the harder you tried. You’ll never make it. You will never be one of the people.

Hush When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Life in the village did indeed start early, and while you walked away from Hell’s Gate and through the thick forest that surrounded you, you could already hear faint sounds coming from the general direction of the Omaticaya settlement, a dead giveaway people were preparing for what the day would inevitably bring, from training in the healing practices of the Tsa’hik or the warrior skills of the tsamsiyu, it was the relentless will to improve and contribute to the overall wellness of each other and their planet that fuelled Na’vi every day.

Soon enough, the carefully crafted tents came into view, each one unique to the owner, with pieces of bone or hides that gave it a personal, intimate appeal, and it was easy enough, once you knew the people, to be able to tell who each tent belonged to. You smiled as your eyes fixed on one tent in particular, small and understated, despite who it was inhabiting it - Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan, never found any use for unnecessary embellishments, be it on his person or any of his belongings, always preferring to keep the showing off to the actual battle or training, his impressive skill set and his ability to thrive in every challenge his brightest adornment. When he came out of it, like he could sense you were near, your smile widened taking him in, in all his tall, blue, muscular beauty. He was a handsome young man, the perfect mix between Neytiri and… him. He used to look more like his mother when he was younger, but now, all of 23 years old, he was more and more Jake with each passing day, and the thought both intrigued and scared you, almost in equal parts.

It intrigued you because, well… because there was something special about Jake, there always has been. Not just because he was the first and only human to do the consciousness transfer, to be accepted into the clan, to become one of the people, or that he was Toruk Makto, one of only 6 to have ever existed; not because he was Olo’eyktan, and a revered warrior and leader… but because he was him. He was kind and patient, he was sweet and caring, he was funny and fun… he was everything.

On the other hand, it was for the exact same reasons that Neteyam’s resemblance to his dad scared you. Because every time you looked at him, you saw Jake, and the feelings you harboured for him since you were old enough to pay attention, that dwindled in time, were mingled with the deep familial affection you felt for Neteyam, who has been your best friend since you were old enough to... well, have memories. You didn’t want your relationship with him to be marred by feelings you couldn’t, wouldn’t ever feel for him, you didn’t want your history erased by the possibility of more, not when it would be wrong - not when, at your core, you would just settle for him because you couldn’t get the person you really wanted.

“Oi! A little late for the mighty warrior to be coming out of his tent, isn’t it?”

Neteyam snickered as he noticed you and Spider approaching, and shook his hand in Spider’s direction.

“Why is she this mean only to me?”

Spider shrugged and patted Neteyam on the shoulder simpathetically.

“Girls, man… Am I right? Anyway, going to find Lo’ak and Kiri. See you guys on the training grounds.”

Hush I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

As Spider took his leave, almost skipping to the Tsa’hik’s tent, where he knew Kiri would be, you started walking quietly, anxiety rising in your chest with each step taken towards the grounds, where you’d once again, as you have for the past few weeks, prove to yourself and everyone around you that you weren’t made for this - the fighting, the battles, the wielding of death machines, be it a gun or a bow, none of it was yours to take, yours to concur. You were made for the labs, for the quiet, analytical lifestyle. You were made for wielding a guitar, and playing it until the strings broke, you were made for daydreams and illusions and fantasies you could only fathom yourself part of, for a happier, easier world that would allow you to be all of those things without incursions. Alas, the world was not what you envisioned for yourself when you were younger, and with this great opportunity, came sacrifices you hoped time would lessen and sweeten, and turn them into blessings in disguise.

“Are you ready for today?”

“Does that make a difference?”

Neteyam’s sigh was answer enough for you. He tried to help, he really did. He went above and beyond for you and you were grateful. He was a patient teacher and a great friend, and his determination, as always, came at a cost, the cost of another burden he had to carry, another person he had to parent and take care of, and while it was not lost on you, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

“You’re going to be okay. You just have to give yourself time to grow. You can’t compare yourself with Spider, who’s been in the village with us his whole life. It’s going to take you time and effort, but you can do this, Tawte. And I’ll be here, at every step, ready to catch you if you fall.”

You smiled a little, slightly distracted, as you always were, by his sweet nickname, and your thoughts flowed gently at the memories that stirred in you whenever he said it, at the way the first word he ever uttered as a babe was a slurred version of a word he heard all the time from his mother: tawtute... human. From her mouth, it was laced with poison and disdain, but not from Neteyam's, who loved you, ever since you were young, who accepted you for who you were. Tawte was a gentle reminder of how far you've come, and how the familial love between the two of you hasn't faltered through time, but only blossomed and deepened, much to your eternal gratitude.

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

Your eyes, hidden behind a sea of glossy tears settled on the next item, the broken tip of an arrow, that you kept since that day, when you somehow did so poorly in bow practice, you managed to break an incredibly sturdy arrow, much to Spider and Lo'ak's amusement, and much to your deep dismay. You thought how about your feelings of inadequacy were exacerbated by the Olo'eyktan's watchful eyes, who observed you intently the whole time, and how that inadvertently set everyone's gaze on you. So many eyes - watching, judging...fearful; so many words - whispered and snickered, and it hurt. It all hurt. But then... he changed everything, not just in that moment, so far removed from you now, but for the rest of your life, with just a few simple words.

“What?” the shock couldn't be shaken off your face, no matter how hard you tried. You knew you needed to get a grip of your emotions, but that was always easier said than done for a girl who was aptly described her whole life as "wearing her heart on her sleeve".

“Ouch, kid. You’re hurting my feelings. I would have liked to think anyone would be honoured to be personally trained by the Olo’eyktan, but I think I’ve been humbled.”

“No, Jake… of-of course I am, I just think… your efforts are better spent on someone else, someone… who’s worthy of it.”

It was minuscule, the change, but it was there - his eyes, his smile had an edge to them, that wasn't there before. He wasn't happy with your words, and yet, he remained calm and maintained the easy, outgoing, friendly nature of his tone.

“How about you let me decide what my efforts are better spent on, kid?”

That was enough to shut you up, but when he noticed the purple tinge in your cheeks, and the way your gaze dropped in shame, his expression softened. He brought a hand to your face, his thumb grazing your chin so that you'd look up at him, and you hoped the shudder that tried you went unnoticed to him, and to the rest of the clan.

“Here’s the deal. I think part of the reason you are having such a hard time is because you’re here, in this village you’ve never truly been a part of, with so many watchful eyes on you. You feel the pressure of performing well in front of the people, in front of my kids… in front of Spider. You shouldn’t have to do that. So, my solution is simple: you and I go for a few days’ hunt. I will teach you the basics, like I learnt when I first joined the Omaticaya. This way you get to relax a little, get to remove yourself from this place for a while and enjoy the beauty of Pandora, and who knows, kid? Maybe you'll find it's easier to be a part of us than you ever could have imagined. What do you say, mm?"

I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

How could you have said no to such an offer? Even now, with all this hindsight, standing on the edge of a cliff with so much room beneath you to fall, with one foot on the ledge and the other on a banana fruit peel, able to look at the situation from a vantage point you only got with all the months of history you've amassed, even now... you still would say yes. Because no matter the pain and the hurt that now seeped into you like rain through the cracks in the withered, dry ground, soaking into every facet of it... just like the rain, his presence and memory also gave you life, a purpose, a way to go on. And you wouldn't give that up, not while there was still breath in your lungs.

So you said yes. And you left, that same day, on the back on his beautiful ikran, for a long ride that would take you somewhere deep in lands you've never experienced before, away from whispers and prying eyes, away from the doubt and the fear. As you were flying far above the world you've known and loved your whole life, that scared you your whole life, you couldn't help but think of what Jake was doing, and feel grateful for it. You thought about how it only consolidated the way you've always viewed him, as a great warrior, a great father, a great mentor... a great man. You thought about your crush, and how it embarrassed you as a teenager, and how you couldn't look him in the eye whenever he came to the lab and asked you a question, how you couldn't be around him without thinking you're gonna catch fire. That was long ago.

It passed, you thought. The crush, slightly weird and completely unattainable, passed through time. Yet here you stood, bare back, yet another foreign feeling you were trying to get used to, flush against his muscular chest, his palm protectively wrapped around your abdomen, and somehow, you forgot to take in the beauty of this world you’ve never seen from such a high vantage point, forgot to enjoy the fact you were literally flying, the air flowing through your luscious, thick hair… you forgot to breathe.

“You okay there, kid? Tell me if this is overwhelming, we can take a break.”

“N-no. I’m alright…Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

Jake struggled to rationalise how things could have ever ended up this way. How did this happen? A few short months ago, it seemed, his life was... normal, or as normal as life could be in the middle of an ongoing territorial war with a species that was once his own, that he now disowned, that he now despised most days. Still. Normal. The same way it had been since he arrived on Pandora, since he mated with Neytiri, since he had one kid, and then another, and another...

He's known you since you were born. He took pity on you, much like he did Spider, for the cruelness of the Universe, for whatever it took for you to be born on this planet he loved, but knew was inhospitable to those who weren't made for it. Aliens. That was about the extent of your similarities to Spider, though. Unlike him, you were sweet, docile, quiet. You never came out to the village, and the few times you did, you just stood in a corner, on some tree stump, clinging to Neteyam like a little lost puppy.

How did it end up this way? It was wrong, it was all wrong. He knew it in his heart he had to stop, and he's been trying... so hard, it was all so hard. In these months, despite his mind telling him otherwise, urging him to consider all he stood to lose, he still ended up putting his life, everything he's built up on the line for you, doing things that frightened him, ashamed him, embarrassed him, but that he couldn't stop doing because it was you. And you were everything, and the way you made him feel was everything. And it all started that night.

The training was not necessarily any less painful than it had been, but he was right - it was easier. He was a good teacher, you told him. You say you understood now where Neteyam got it from, his penchant for imparting wisdom in a calm, collected and patient manner. He went through all the basics, and after a good few hours, he felt like you were almost... relaxed. By eclipse, you were hunched over food that he was preparing over fire, while practicing your Na'vi - the only thing you felt comfortable enough to call yourself good in, and for the first time since you got your Avatar, you looked... happy. You needed this and he knew it. You didn't even know it for yourself, but he knew. And thinking about it, and him, made you blurt out a secret you held in your soul for years and years, before your mind had enough time to talk you out of it.

“I used to have a crush on you, you know?” You chuckled a little, and Jake was fascinated by the sound, which sounded less like a laugh and more like bells chiming in the wind, and by the purple tinge of your cheeks as you confessed something that he couldn’t believe his ears, that were now pushed back flat in shock.

“You used to have a crush on me?”

His tone amused you even further, it seemed, because you brought a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound Jake felt a sudden desire to continue hearing for the rest of his life.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know, kid, just… never thought out of everyone in this village, and the labs, people your own age, including my kids and Spider, you’d ever have a crush on an old man like me.” He chuckles his own rugged, awkward laugh and looks over at you, the way he couldn’t stop himself doing, it seemed, to gauge for a reaction that he didn’t know whether he wanted to see.

“I think that was part of the charm, actually.” As you catch yourself talking, you stop and turn, the tinge in your cheeks no longer a tinge but a splash of violent colour as you pat yourself aggressively with both hands, to release some of the heat that pooled unwelcome in your face. “I… I really should not… say things.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused and intrigued at the new development. “So you like ‘em older, huh, kid? Always the shy and quiet ones, ain’t that so?”

You retreat further in yourself at the way he just called you out, unconsciously making yourself smaller by bringing your knees in and wrapping your arms around them, your face buried in between your legs in embarrassment and you let out a small groan. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. First time in your life you were fully alone with this great man, this man that is a legend, that will have history books written about him even back on Earth, this man that knew so much and achieved enough to last lifetimes and instead of learning from him, instead of doing what you came here to do to begin with, here you are, running your mouth faster than your brain could catch up, making sure you would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again.

“Are you still playing that guitar of yours? You used to drive Neytiri crazy with that thing when you were young.”

“Yeah, I still play, just, I keep it to the rec centre mostly.”

“Why?”

“I just... don’t want to bother anyone.”

You sounded sad, too sad. He saw your eyes swimming with tears and he cringed at the way he was unable to make you feel fully comfortable around him. This shouldn't be this hard.

“Ah, kid… you can play in the village. The Omaticaya love music, they’re called the Flute Clan for cryin’ out loud. They just need time.”

“It’s been 23 years.”

Jake didn’t push anymore, not when you were right. It’s been a long enough time, but some things… some things don’t get better with time. Jake’s always hated that stupid old saying anyway.

“Y’know… I play a little guitar, too.” He scoffs a little as he thinks more about it. “Well, used to play. Probably not any good anymore, but at some point, I used to be.”

Your eyes shoot to him and the glimmer in them makes Jake’s mind come to a standstill - they were so beautiful. You were so beautiful.

“Really? That’s amazing!” And just like that, your previous outburst was swiftly forsaken and forgotten, the new piece of information far too exciting for you to dwell on anything else. “How come I’ve never heard you? You should play for us sometime.”

Jake smiled a sorrowful smile that stopped short of reaching his eyes. “Just… haven’t had the chance.”

There were a lot of reasons Jake hasn’t done so many of the things that used to bring him joy when he was human. But ya win some, ya lose some, that was always his philosophy for life anyway. He had so much to be grateful for in this life, so much more than he ever thought possible for a grunt like him. The Universe has been more than generous in compensating him for a lifetime of resentment and regrets, and so if he had to give certain things up, that he did so without thinking twice about it.

“So how did you learn?”

“My old man taught me, probably the only thing he ever taught me, unless you count how to run a backdoor draw while high off your ass.” Jake lets out a humourless laugh, enjoying the look of confusion plastered all over your face, and the way your tanhì seemed to shine brighter when you ruminated over something in your head. Your nose crinkles a little, as his words register fully in your ears and they twitch, and the humourless laugh quickly evolves in a warm, inward smile.

You were beautiful, he ends up acknowledging yet again, taking in all the mannerisms that somehow escaped him all these years.

“A what?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“Did you not… get along with your dad?”

Jake finds himself, for the first time in years, too many years, thinking about his dad and his life as a young kid back on Earth, and all the shitty memories that came along with that thought, memories he’s tried to repress most of his life. He catches yet another sigh before it escapes him, a habit he’s seemed to have quickly picked up in your presence, as you asked questions most people never did, questions he didn’t want to answer, questions he wanted nothing more than to be asked.

“My dad was a mean ol’ dog, who liked women and booze more than he ever liked Tommy or me. I could never find it in me to care when he died.” That was morbid, he recognises, but it needed to be said. Something about you just makes him want to just… confess things he shouldn’t be feeling, and shouldn’t be saying out loud, and yet here he was, heart thumping and palms sweating almost nervously, and the word vomit didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to over.

“He made mean sloppy joes, though. And he played the guitar like he was born with a six-string in his hands.” There were some good memories. The memory of his dad teaching young squirt Jake Future Days, his old, cigarette-imbued hoarse voice singing the lyrics that still had the power to bring tears to his eyes… that was one of the good ones.

You smiled as he spoke, a warm, inviting smile, that made the breath catch in his lungs and begged him to spill all the secrets that he tried so hard to bury deep inside, and he feels his stomach drop when he realises the feelings you invoked in him, for the first time in his life, were no longer ones he could justify or explain, but ones that demanded to be felt.

The silence was heavy and awkward after that, or so he thought, and he watched you as you ruminated over his words, as you nibbled at the fish he managed to catch while teaching you the basics of fishing. He shouldn't have said it, any of it. What the hell does he think he's doing, going around confessing the depths of his somewhat bitter soul to a kid who knew nothing about life, and who shouldn't have to carry his burdens to begin with. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Maybe being alone with you... was a mistake.

"You should go to sleep, kid. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the sooner we're done, the sooner your life can go back to normal."

You nodded gently and obliged.

“I think you’re lying.” You say, as you turn your back to him, closing your eyes and preparing yourself to return to your human body, as soon as sleep would find you. “I think you cared. I think you still care. And it’s ok to care. Sometimes… people are horrible and they suck… and we love them anyway. And I think that’s what makes humans special… and good.”

Jake was too stunned to be able to say anything else, as he stared mouth-agape at your back.

“Sleep well, Jake.”

Maybe he did lie. Maybe life will never go back to normal again and the thought... the thought terrified him.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself Tonight

taglist: @yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm @childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl @analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower

[theprongspotter]

Method - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 23 - 1,370 words

It’s three in the morning and James wakes up to loud bangs and what sounds like glass shattering. The random sounds used to alarm him, but now he’s annoyed. You see, the first few times this happened, he thought someone broke in, but as it continued, he realized that it had to be deeper than that. Nothing was ever stolen, just broken. In a desperate attempt to figure it out, he even hired a medium, who informed him that there was an entity playing tricks on him.

So, he tries putting earmuffs on, a sad method to put himself back to sleep, and rolls over. But the noises are too loud. Grumbling, James heads down to the kitchen, ready to tell off whatever entity is ruining his sleep schedule. However, when he steps onto the cool tiles and into the room, he seems to lose his voice. Yes, he sees a glowing figure tossing bowls and mugs onto the ground. But the figure looks like a man around his own age, with a sharp jawline, sharp cheekbones, black curls that fall a little past his ears, and stormy eyes.

James clears his throat, finding his voice. The man freezes. “So you’re the one keeping me up at night.”

The man turns around to face him, his expression blank. "It’s not my fault you lie down at odd times.”

James blinks. “What are you even doing?”

The man shrugs, now looking bored. “Ridding you of the most hideous china pieces ever. I refuse to be in a house with such items.”

James looks at what the man is holding. It’s a brown mug with black eyes, a nose, and antlers sprouting out of it. He frowns, yanking the mug from the other’s hand. Their fingers touch and James shivers. After collecting himself, he sets the mug on the counter. “That one’s a gift, don’t destroy that one.”

The man must take this as a sign that James is okay with his destruction, because he turns back to the cupboard and reaches for another mug. “Don’t,” James interrupts. The man slowly looks over at James and raises a brow, his arm falling back to his side. “What… are you?” James asks.

“Dead.” The man snorts.

James stares at the ghost, trying to process the situation. He’s been dealing with this haunting for weeks, but this is the first time he’s actually seen the entity responsible for all the chaos. And now that he’s face-to-face with him, he’s not sure what to say.

“Well, yeah, I figured that much,” James says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “But why are you haunting me?”

The ghost tilts his head, considering the question. “It’s not personal,” he says after a moment, as if that should be obvious. “This just happens to be where I ended up.”

James frowns, not satisfied with the answer. “But why me? And why the mugs? What do you have against my stuff?”

The ghost narrows his eyes slightly, as if irritated by James’ persistence. “Your ‘stuff’ is an assault on the senses,” he says flatly. “I have standards, even in death.”

James can’t help but feel a little insulted. “You’re trashing my place because you don’t like my taste?”

“Precisely,” the ghost replies, sounding almost smug. “You could at least take some pride in your home.”

James runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but you can’t keep destroying my things. Some of it has sentimental value.”

The ghost’s expression softens for the briefest moment, something flickering in his stormy eyes, but it’s gone before James can make sense of it. “Sentimentality,” the ghost mutters, almost to himself. “It’s always about that, isn’t it?”

James opens his mouth to respond, but the ghost abruptly turns away, drifting toward the window. “Fine,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ll stop breaking your precious trinkets. But don’t expect me to be quiet.”

"What’s your name?” James asks, curious about this ghost.

The ghost hesitates, his lips pressed together before he opens his mouth to say, “Regulus,” his voice soft.

James’s curiosity deepens as he stares at the ghost—at Regulus. The name feels like it belongs to another time, fitting for someone who looks like he stepped out of an old photograph, all sharp edges and elegance.

“Regulus,” James repeats, testing the name on his tongue. It’s strange, speaking so casually to a ghost, but there’s something almost… normal about the way Regulus stands there, as if he belongs in this kitchen despite the chaos he’s caused.

Regulus watches him with those stormy eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before his expression smooths into one of bored detachment. “Yes, that’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

James opens his mouth to introduce himself, more out of habit than anything, but Regulus cuts him off with a roll of his eyes and a slight smirk. “I know who you are, James.” His voice is soft, almost teasing, as though this is all a game to him.

James feels a flicker of something at that—surprise, maybe? A ghost knowing his name is unnerving enough, but the familiarity with which Regulus says it sends a shiver down his spine. “How…?”

“I’ve been around,” Regulus says dismissively, waving a hand as though the details are irrelevant. “It’s hard not to overhear when you’re stuck in a house with someone who talks to themselves as much as you do.”

James flushes, a little embarrassed. “I don’t talk to myself that much.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t press the point. Instead, he moves to pick up another mug from the cupboard, inspecting it with a critical eye. “Honestly, where do you even find these things?” he mutters, more to himself than to James. “Who in their right mind thinks this is aesthetically pleasing?”

James steps closer, watching as Regulus turns the mug in his hands. “I like them,” he says, a little defensively. “They’ve got character.”

Regulus scoffs, setting the mug back down with exaggerated care. “If by character, you mean a complete lack of taste, then yes.”

James can’t help but grin at the dry sarcasm in Regulus’s tone, even if it’s at the expense of his kitchenware. There’s something almost endearing about how seriously this ghost seems to take his self-imposed mission to rid the house of “hideous” items.

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” James asks, genuinely curious. “It’s not like you have to look at them.”

Regulus’s expression flickers again, just for a moment, before he shrugs. “Maybe I just prefer things to be… orderly,” he says, though there’s something deeper in his voice that James can’t quite place.

“Orderly,” James echoes, filing that little detail away for later. There’s more to Regulus than meets the eye, and for the first time since the hauntings began, James feels like he’s starting to understand a little of what’s been going on.

But there’s still so much he doesn’t know, so many questions swirling in his mind. And as he watches Regulus, he realizes that he’s more intrigued than ever. What kind of life—or death—has led to this ghost standing in his kitchen, critiquing his mugs in the dead of night?

Before James can reply, the ghost vanishes, leaving the kitchen eerily silent. James stands there for a moment, the weight of what just happened sinking in. He’s not sure if he’s just made peace with the ghost or if he’s simply in for more trouble, but at least the mugs are safe. For now.

He picks up the mug with the antlers, running his fingers over the familiar shape. “Sentimentality,” he murmurs, echoing the ghost’s words. It makes him wonder who this ghost was, and why he’s so stuck on a place he seems to despise.

As James turns to leave the kitchen, he hears a faint whisper, almost like a sigh, coming from nowhere in particular. It sends a shiver down his spine, but it’s not fear he feels. It’s something else—something that makes him think he hasn’t seen the last of this ghost, and that there’s more to this haunting than a simple dislike of ugly china.

[five-one-two-station]

Everybody should have their own fun, and this isn't trying to harsh anybody's buzz, but I find the impulse to make your own cutesy/badass Replika oc doing funny or heroic or badass things a little odd. Like, that character you designed as a super badass soldier, or well-armed and armored steely eyed cop type... who would they have been built to fight or police exactly? Remember who all those guns and weapons were intended for use on?

I know we're all sick of discourse over who "gets" the game, and I'm by no means scolding anybody for something that harmless, but what's interesting to me is the sense that designing overtly "cool" Replika personas and OCs, complete with the propaganda poster style imagery, feels a little...

I mean, bluntly, it's like the in-world propaganda worked, unironically, on some level, for many people. Kolibris aren't scary, they're whimsical and fun! Storches aren't notably cruel enforcers and chain gang drivers, they're Protektors! Falke isn't a camp commandant, she's a beautiful angel!

The Replikas aren't cool and heroic figures in the reality of the game. They're the carefully crafted organs of a system of control so dreadful it could do what it did to Elster and Ariane. They're victims to that system themselves too, sure - and humanising them is a nuanced and valuable observation of how totalitarian regimes maintain themselves - but that doesn't negate the fact they're also the ones who operate, enforce and perpetuate it, a big part of what the game knows and communicates about such societies. It's notable that the game makes it clear few, if any, of the Replikas actually buy into the Nation as an ideal at all - they enforce it no less pitilessly anyway, incapable or unsafe to imagine anything else.

Their affectations, pasttimes, trinkets, and even affections for each other, all serve to draw a stark contrast to how callously they regard the gestalts they keep suppressed. Their disposability is something they're conscious and fearful of themselves, but fail to recognise as a commonality with the people they brutalise every day, their business as usual. The only grief, tragedy or suffering they acknowledge is their own - they have no regard for any such things in the humans they have... well, dehumanised.

But S-23 Sierpinski was such a hellhole for most of its denizens under "normal" conditions that the nightmare it becomes is arguably an improvement; if only because there are fewer people left now to suffer it. There's a dark poetry here - because the place's banal cruelty is "off camera" to us, it's very naturally less real to us than the grief of the crying Eule. It's only natural, too, to forget how grim the Replikas' purposes are when you don't have to see anyone endure the brunt of it.

And isn't that the very same effect a state like the Nation is seeking in the first place, by disappearing people away to such dark little corners to have it done? In our world, no less than that one.

That works like a kind of propaganda too, not being able to see it - a propaganda of hidden things, as powerful as any poster. A space that's been intentionally left blank.

Kolibris are literal thought police; they intrude on people's very minds, interrogating them to death as a matter of course, with hardly a care either way. The various Protektor classes are functionally concentration camp guards and slave drivers. Falke and Adler are overseeing what amounts to a gulag, one so unimaginably awful Ariane preferred to spend years of her life alone in space to the prospect of being sent there, and inevitably worked to death, far underground.

I think there's a reason we never see one of those posters for LSTRs in game. How could we be asked to forgive our own if we ever did?

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The lost episodes being more slow paced, filler like episodes with that have a strong vibe that something (or someone) is missing.

One episode is the younger members cleaning a bedroom in the mansion as punishment as it hasnt been used in a while and has a thich layer of dust and them getting distracted with all the cool and potentially dangerous stuff in there. Apparently, it's that mystery character's room, but, again, they never actually show up. Just have somber scene as everyone contemplates their friends, and someone mentions how much older they must be now. Reader think this character has good taste since the room looks very close to their own style ( and looks very familiar)

Another is that Jubilee (or another younger character) is hiding something in her closet, which is close to bursting. It's all these clothes given as gifts from the mystery character. But she's outgrown them and feels like awful that she's losing her connection to them, but she needs to get rid of them as she doesn'thave any space. It has a sweet message about letting go and always having someone in your heart, but Reader kinda wishes they got to see episodes of Jubilee wearing the clothes, they think they would have look good on her.

One episode is Xavier( or another adult) working himself near to death trying to find the character, and everyone worrying. It ends with a heavy hint of them being found as the adult stares into the screen with heavy relief. Reader swears their eyes dig into their soul.

Yes! I like it! I'll add a little to each one, if that's okay! (anyone who wants to add an idea for a filer episode, feel free to share your idea!) ( @thewickedweiner and @vivid-bun and @weebwholovesuchihasasuke!)

Episode One?: The younger characters stumble into a room that looks like it hasn't seen the light in years. A few posters line the walls, the bed has thick comforter and blankets in grays and brown and reds, there's old drawing books and classic literature on a nightstand, even a box of trinkets and a few clothes and items hidden in a closet. A thick layer of dust covers everything, causing several characters to sneeze. Some items are pretty cool, for example: fossilized clam shells, tumbled rocks, old books, animal feathers, shiny trinkets. And some are probably not as safe, such as: a knife they found, a notebook full of... it doesn't show... and a box full of old items that Logan and Morph are quick to tuck somewhere else. The characters mention some good old times, fighting alongside this mystery character, watching them grow, having fun outside of saving the day, old habits they had... They sound really cool to Reader, who notes their room is comforting, in shades that make them feel relaxed and at home, with items they'd find fascinating... Yet the episode is somber, with no one knowing where this character is or what happened to them, let alone if they're still alive... But it ens with the team promising to find them, and one or another putting things to rest, no matter what they find... (It leaves a sad feeling inside Reader, as well as a discomfort and feeling of dread...)

• Episode 12??: Jubilee is trying to hold onto the memory of the missing character or a friend of her's, but she can't hold onto the past forever. It's a needed message, one to help deal with grief amf moving on in a healthy way (or so Reader thinks). Jubilee has old clothes she can no longer wear, but were gifts from her friend, so she doesn't want to give them up. But she's reminded that her friend is still with her, and would want her to be okay, and that it's okay to move on, because they'll always be a part of you, always have a place in your heart. It's touching, making you smile a little, epically when the others comfort her...

• Episode 23???: What seems to be a final episode of the lost seasons (at least the first lost season, anyways) where Xavier and a few if the others have been working nonstop, trying to find this missing character, who's been mentioned the last season or two amd throughout the entire series, and everyone is afraid to hold onto that hope, wanting to either move on or run themselves ragged trying to find any trace of them... You watch with bated breath as the episode plays out, as various characters, even some villains or side characters, get involved... The team keeps trying to assure Xavier and each other they've done the best they can, that there's only so much they can do, that no one blame them for what happened- Amd then the last few minutes of the epsidoe depict a heavy hint that the characters found a clue, or that their friend was alive... and they were staring out at the screen again, as though they could see through it, too...

(I imagine a few episodes explore dealing with grief, guilt, and heavier emotions, while others show different places they've gone before with their missing friend, even a few where the villains or side characters get a day-in-the-limelight episode) (And some of what was in the box that Logan and Morph took, what was in the notebook, and a few hints as to what the missing character might have been like or little nicknames for them) (and Kevin is no help, playing the tapes whenever they're at the ReelTheatre, and jokes about not spoiling anything too early for Reader) (They walk Reader home one night, and are so glad to spend extra time with them!) (Bonus: some of the characters visit Reader or enter their home when they're asleep)

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; pure vanilla cookie

requested by ; anonymous (31/05/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; pure vanilla cookie

outline ; “can you please do some pure vanilla relationship hcs please? thx (btw: i hope you have a nice break)”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

pure vanilla cookie is a complete and utter gentleman in how he treats the people around him, but especially you as his spouse — starting from how he took his time to traditionally court and woo you before the two of you became an ‘official’ couple, and ending with him treating you as nothing short of royalty as you two settle more and more into your relationship

he rarely ever calls you by your formal name and rotates through a small selection of sweet pet names whenever he’s talking to or about you — including, but not limited to: ‘(my) beloved’, ‘(my) angel’, ‘(my) darling’, ‘dearest’, and ‘sweetheart’

he’s naturally a very giving person and will happily indulge in every single expression of love he knows of just to make sure you have no room left to doubt his feelings for you

acts of service — when it comes to taking care of you, status be damned pure vanilla cookie will do just about anything it takes to make your day a little brighter. this can mean all sorts of things, such as: going out of his way to get up earlier and make you breakfast in bed, sending word out to local vendors in the kingdom to ensure that they always have your favourite things in stock when he knows you’re going to go out to the market, or making sure that you get spoiled rotten and properly celebrated for every birthday, anniversary, or achievement.

gift giving — being the ruler of a thriving kingdom and a talented magic user, it’s safe to say that pure vanilla cookie is more than capable and willing to shower you with all sorts of gifts. of course amongst these gifts are things that are more lavish and elaborate (whole wardrobes worth of new clothing in the style of his kingdom, organised banquets to celebrate important milestones, using his magic to organise unforgettable dates for you both, and so on) but most of the things he gifts you are more small and thoughtful in nature, as is to be expected of someone like him: trinkets and souvenirs from his travels, books he thinks you’ll like, accessories that reminded him of you, and anything he sees that he knows will make you smile (e.g. a type of item he knows you like to collect)

physical touch — though he does tend to stick to a socially appropriate level of pda with you, pure vanilla cookie is far from the type to shy away from physical affection with you. around others he usually sticks to a set few acts (hand holding, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of your hand/your fingertips/your knuckles, kissing you chastely on the lips or temple, brushing any hair out of your face, and reassuringly stroking his hands up and down your arms), but in private he’s much more varied in his displays of affection: more passionate kisses, cuddling and hugging you, dancing with you at random, letting his arms rest around your hips or waist, kissing along your shoulders, neck and wrists, etc. (he’s just… very touchy with you haha)

quality time — you’re his absolute favourite person to be around without question, whether you’re going out and having fun as a couple or just sitting together in silence doing your own things parallel to each other. every conversation, every date, every outing, every holiday, and every moment spent with you is something he treasures dearly and he does what he can to make sure that you’re as content and as comfortable in his presence as he is in yours.

words of affirmation — he’s the type of partner who tends to shower you with praise and attention whenever the opportunity arises. most of his affirmations are verbal (calling you beautiful/handsome as he presses a chaste kiss against your knuckles, earnestly congratulating you for every achievement and accolade you collect, softly and quietly reassuring you before you step out of your comfort zone, smiling as he recalls your strengths and talents to his oldest friends with more awe than he recalls those old stories from his adventuring days, etc.), but he’s also the type of sappy romantic to leave little love letters and notes around your shared space for you to find in his absence (e.g. a neatly folded note on your pillow telling you where he is, reaffirming his love for you, apologising for being absent, and promising to make it up to you at lunch time / or / a floating note on your vanity in his signature cursive that recalls a different positive affirmation every day that’s designed to make you smile, laugh, and relax for the day ahead)

though it’s easy to forget given how passive and pleasant he’s become in recent years, pure vanilla cookie is still a very capable magic wielder and, thus, is more than capable of protecting you should it come down to that — of course he’d much rather have the option to talk things out without having to shed blood, but if your safety is on the line then he’s not above returning to his roots and making damn sure the offending party knows to never try a stunt like this again

on the rare occasion that hollyberry cookie and the other ancients actually manage to get him tipsy (or, better yet, outright drunk), pure vanilla cookie will not stop talking about how amazing you are and how much he loves you — if nobody stops him or brings him somewhere quiet to rest and sober up, then there’s every chance that the ancients will spend the next few hours hearing about every little thing he adores about you until he finally passes out or golden cheese cookie goes and gets you so you can take your poor boyfriend home for the night

(the girls all think it’s absolutely adorable, dark cacao cookis is mostly neutral about the whole affair and just lets him rant, but golden cheese cookie and hollyberry cookie have both been known to tease him by reciting the sappiest things he’s said about you back to him when he’s sober again — usually something about your smile or the sound of your laughter)

[ikaishere]

trinket

flufftober day 23!!! wild totally loves giving little trinkets to sidon