#dilly dolls

[alittlebitbethany]

Hi everybody I’ve posted a new #youtubevideo on my channel in honour of @worldcpday today. Please check it out it would mean a lot to me.

Image Description: a screenshot of a #youtube video featuring a picture photo of a #blythedoll with Green eyes , wearing a green sleeveless shirt mini dress and White go-go boots. The text reads BC’s Doll Place: Happy World Cerebral Palsy Day 2023( With Subtitles). #cerebralpalsy #worldcerebralpalsyday #worldcpday #worldcpday2023 #disability #dollphotography #blythe #blythedolls #blythedollsofinstagram #green #dollcollector #dollcollecting #takaratomy #neoblythe

[kishibei]

DZIFA YOUR THEME IS SO GORGEOUS? the vibrant colors on dark mode scratches my brain soooo nicely, i’m staring in awe 0.0 !!

PLS UR REBLOG ON MY GETO THING HAD ME PISSIN U WAS GOIN FERAL !!! thank you pookie <33 , i swear it dont hit the same on light mode!

[jjsgirly]

prettiest thing i've ever seen … farmhand!rafe cameron ! 18+, mdni. ༄.°

you were so graceful, rafe thought as he watched you tend to the little flower garden you had beside your house while he worked out the field with the other farmhands, tending to various things, getting all sweaty underneath the golden rays of the sun.

you were the only daughter of the man he worked for, which meant he was extremely protective over you. you were cute, soft spoken, and never lingered too long around any of the farmhands that worked on your father's property, excusing yourself with apologetic smiles and dainty curtsies.

rafe was absolutely, completely, and utterly enamored with you; he had been ever since he got a peek at you hiding behind your minotaur of a father, spying on him from behind his shoulder and clutching onto his shirt. you were enrapturing, and he had started to long in that moment to get closer to you, though those thoughts were quickly shut down as soon as your father introduced you to him with a firm tone that read "don't fucking touch her or even come near her," which he heeded because he needed this job (especially now that he knew what a cute lass was residing in that big ol' house).

despite being cautious and obedient around you with your father's tone ringing in his ears like tinnitus whenever he got even a bit closer to you than he probably should've been (wasn't his fault his job required him to be all over the place on the damn property and you just so happened to be there, too), he found it increasingly more and more difficult to be compliant the longer he dilly-dallied around you.

he was drawn to you in ways he couldn't even begin to describe (and in ways he probably shouldn't have been). he was like a fish attracted to bait with you, your sweet smile leering him in, and fuck, those fucking eyes that looked at him, big and round, resembling a doll. how he longed to see them from other angles and perhaps how your mouth would fall agape, delicate, soft noises leaving them as he—

fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

to say he didn't constantly imagine you in perverse situations with him would be an understatement. all the time, 24/7, and probably 365 days a year if your father would keep him for that long. lord, he hoped he would, just to see your pretty face. he knew it was wrong to be thinking about his employer's daughter like that, but if he just so happened to see you doing one of your many mundane activities, wearing those dainty dresses that you always do, and just needed to bend over to retrieve something, he couldn't help it with the blood rushing to his dick. it kind of just always seemed to happen.

he loved you, truly. you were a ray of sunshine that he looked forward to seeing every day when he woke up, always wanting to look his best for you, even if whenever you saw him he was always sweaty and smelled like musk, dirty from work, but he made sure to smirk and keep his distance, waving to you. he wanted to hold you, tangle his stout fingers into your hair, and lavish you in attention like you so rightfully deserved; you already managed to capture all of his, not that he was complaining. he wanted you so bad, so fucking bad.

you were down bad for one of your father's farmhands. it was unintentional. you hadn't meant to become so caught up with him, but you were, and you were starting to come to terms with it.

god, he was so perfect in your eyes. he worked with the many other men out in the field of your father's property, and you'd purposefully linger on the front porch and watch him work, leaning against the railing with your eyes glued to his strong, muscular form, sheen with a layer of sweat, his dirty-blond hair sticking to his dewy forehead, and his eyes that were the color of the sky glowing underneath the sunlight whenever it hit him at the right angle.

he was sweet, always polite around you whenever he was near, and incredibly respectful. if he was wearing a hat, he'd take it off when you were around, keeping it either at his chest or his side, and would put it back on when you left. he'd smile and call you "miss" or "ma'am," a drawl mixed in with the formal titles. his gaze would shy away from yours if you ever made eye contact, which you found endearing and would giggle about to yourself. he was just the definition of a gentleman through and through.

you had become interested in him when he had first gotten hired, hiding behind your father the whole time as he showed him around the property, telling him where everything was and such, ending the little field trip in front of your house. he was told to never step foot on the threshold unless absolutely necessary and that the house was meant for family only. he nodded. then his sapphire eyes drifted to you lurking behind the large frame of your father, which made you blush. you were shy; always had been when getting introduced to new people, but even more so when they were that hot.

"mm. yes, this is my daughter." your father's voice lowered, bordering dangerous territory as he slightly shifted so the new farmhand could see a bit more of your face. his large hand made contact with the top of your head and gave you a few reassuring pats, knowing how timid you got with strangers.

that was as far as the introduction went; it never really did go past that with the other farmhands either. your father never told them your name because of something—overprotective spiel, something—they didn't need to know it anyway. you rolled your eyes at the notion, but you didn't protest; after all, your father was a scary man.

from that moment on, though, you were smitten by that dirty-blond, blue-eyed farmhand and wanted to get close to him, know more about him, and converse as people rather than employer and employee, but you knew you couldn't, not with the strict, unspoken rules in place that kept him hundreds of feet away, it seemed.

you thought about him a lot, usually at night and nestled away in the comfort of your room, a hand between your legs, back arching off your plush mattress with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth to stifle any noises that left you. it was only human to, you supposed, but you were raised properly and felt a bit guilty for being so dirty, even in your own room, by yourself, but you couldn't help it. the images of him hovering over you, making you writhe in pleasure with pearly tears prickling your eyes, gasping out his name that you didn't know and could only guess, guided your hand to pump two of your fingers in and out of your soaked cunt, flushed, and breathing heavy. the night would end with you whimpering out pathetically, wanting to call out his name but couldn't; it was frustrating, then you'd clean up and drift off to sleep to dream of him some more.

"goodmornin' miss daisy," rafe would call out to you as you emerged from behind the front door of your house and wave to you, a smile spreading across his lips as you'd wave back with a hint of puzzlement on your soft features.

"y'know, 'cause of those pretty flowers you tend to. thought i'd name you somethin' i can call you other than miss all the time." he clarified for you, watching as you nodded with understanding.

the nickname made your heart flutter in your chest as you strolled across the porch and to the side stairs that lead to your small garden, eyeing them. honestly, you hadn't even really taken time to notice what breeds of flowers you were taking care of until now, noticing that you were, indeed, caring for a patch of daisies tucked away in one of the flowerbeds.

you went along with your morning routine, tending to your garden and occasionally looking up to see rafe work in the field. it was an early morning, usually you'd get up a bit later than this but you were roused from your sleep unexpectedly by your father knocking on your door, opening it a bit to tell you he had to be somewhere early, and you sleepy acknowledged it with a hum. after he had shut the door and you flopped back down to go back to sleep, it finally clocked you, and you shot up with a sudden burst of energy. early. early. early.

you knew that the farmhands were already up, their schedule much different from yours, so you knew the farmhand you were interested in was already out, doing his tasks, and you quickly got out of bed and got dressed and such, dolling yourself up as the singular thing going through your mind on repeat was to get him into your house and spend time with him. get to know him. converse with him like people instead of employer and employee. maybe even… it made the blood rush through your veins.

placing down the water container on the small wooden bench beside your garden, you turned around and stood there, admiring rafe from afar. he looked fucking delicious. sweaty, shiny, and hardworking. you felt your legs go a bit wobbly as you started to prepare yourself for what you were about to do, the blood rushing through your veins pumping in your ears. with small, tentative steps, you made your way across the space of land and approached rafe with a gentle smile, stopping to stand a few feet away as he paused his ministrations.

"i don't think you're supposed to be out here, miss daisy-lou." he commented gruffly, his bright blue eyes narrowing as he inspected you with suspicion, wiping his dirty hands along his light-washed denim jeans, staining them with grime.

"i—i know i'm not but, um, i just thought you'd like to take a small break? god only knows how many breaks daddy gives ya and i'd like to offer you somethin'. tea or coffee, perhaps? it is still early, after all." you explained carefully, hoping he'd accept, and clasped your hands behind your back as you gazed up at him with those killer eyes.

rafe stared at you for a long while, partially because he was skeptical and partially because he was ogling you and your beauty. fuck, you looked insatiable. dressed in a white dress made of cotton with intricate lace trim, sheer white thighs with mary janes, and two white ribbons tied in your hair, you looked like a fucking angel that he wanted nothing more than to strip down, corrupt the innocence of, but those were inside thoughts, not outside actions.

"i mean, i guess. i wouldn't mind a cup of coffee or whatever you have, miss daisy-doll." he answered, reaching one of his hands up to rub the back of his neck with a small grin gracing his lips as any thoughts of this being unprofessional had left his mind at the look of you lighting up like a firefly, eyes twinkling with cheer.

he couldn't fucking believe he was inside the house that he had been explicitly told not to step foot in. loitering in the kitchen as you stood by the coffee machine, humming a tune, and tapping your nails against the countertop as you both patiently waited for it to be done.

when it had finished brewing, you got out one of your father's coffee cups and poured in until it was a little half full. "cream or sugar?" you asked politely, hearing rafe grunt before responding with a slight strained voice, "none. thanks, though." and turned around on your heels with a wide smile, eyes full of mirth.

you drifted towards the man as he leaned against one of the cabinets, the hat that he had been wearing in his hand, as per usual with you, and passed the cup over to him. he reached out rather hesitantly, taking it from your small, warm hands, a spike of adrenaline coursing through him after touching your skin for a few seconds.

you stood there, close to him, no longer a few feet away but rather inches away, eyes glued to his face as he lifted the cup and took a drink of the coffee. plain, black coffee. bitter, yet sweet, wondering if he could taste you in it since it was brewed by you.

there was nothing but silence for a few moments, neither of you talking, just simply staring at the other, nerves wracking your brains as you both processed the fact you were in each other's presence without the air of being cordial, though now it was replaced with a tension that either of you wanted to admit just yet.

"where's your father?" rafe asked finally, already suspecting he wasn't in the house or he would've probably been dead as soon as he stepped through that door, but he wanted to hear it directly from the horse's mouth, just to make sure he was correct.

"daddy had to leave early this morning, work-related, i'm guessing. sorry, i didn't tell you earlier; i thought it wasn't important." you answered matter-of-factly, shifting your gaze away and moving towards the kitchen island, blue eyes following you intently, and leaned your hands on the edge.

he hummed. "well, your daddy don't want me near you, daisycakes, or frankly anywhere near this house," he stated with a sigh, placing down the coffee onto the counter behind him, barely even drunk out of.

"i'm old enough to be around who i want, talk to who i want, and do what i want. he's no longer the dictator of my life." you responded with a pout tugging at your lips, irked by the fact it was your overprotective father that made it impossible for you to do just this. talk to rafe.

but it was true, you were of age, no longer a child, and you could do what you damn pleased. the sentiment had a smirk edging at the corners of rafe's lips, his gaze roving up and down your figure as you stood by the island with your back turned to him, and he couldn't ignore the itch to get closer to you.

"yeah, miss daisy? what is it that you want then?" he cooed, pushing himself away from the cabinet and over to you with heavy steps, the floorboards creaking quietly underneath the weight of his boots that had you straightening, heart pounding in your chest as he drew closer and closer, fingers pressing harder into the granite countertop.

you didn't answer for what seemed like an eternity as rafe now stood directly behind you, his large, calloused hand reaching out to hover for a few seconds over your hip before grabbing onto it and pulling you back, pressing you against him. his warmth enveloped you, seeping into your skin through your dress and making your head dizzy from how fucking close he was now.

your head tipped back to look up at him, his angular features peering down at you with a smug ass grin split across his face, his eyes darkened with an undeniable lust pooling behind them that had you pushing your thighs together with anticipation.

the next word that left your lips had him reeling in pleasure, knowing damn well that it wasn't an invitation for conversation you had offered but an invitation for him to do as he pleased, to give you what you both so desperately wanted, and he obliged happily, that saccharine toned, "you." on repeat in his mind.

your poor bed creaked in protest, your headboard slamming against the wall as you hugged yourself closely to rafe, arms wrapped around his neck, back arched off the soft mattress, his cock balls deep inside of you, hitting that gooey spot inside of you over and over again with keen precision, your legs loosely locked around his waist.

his hands supported him, gripping the light blue frilly bedsheets as he drove himself into your inviting heat, groaning against your ear as it squeezed around him so nicely, your gummy walls a snug fit for his thick, heavy cock, which had you gasping for air as it repeatedly speared you, harsh and fast.

"s'good, never had such a perfect little cunt wrapped around m' dick before. holy shit," he rasped, dropping onto his forearms and pressing your back against the mattress, angling himself to plunge his cock deeper inside of you, drawing whines from those pretty lips.

"too deep! noo, t-too deep!" you whimpered helplessly, pearlescent tears welling up in your watery eyes as rafe lifted his head just enough to gaze down at your scrunched-up face, flushed, forehead dewy from sweat, and mouth agape with moans being pulled from the back of your throat.

"yeah, doll? too deep?" he mocked you, giving you a feigned sympathetic look, bringing one of his arms down, his hand purchasing at your hip, pressing his rough fingers into the supple flesh that'd surely leave bruises later, and lifting you a bit more, shifting and folding you, pistoning his dick even deeper.

you threw your head back against your pillows, arms leaving rafe's neck to grab onto anything around you, needing to ground yourself as you felt like your soul was leaving your body, getting transported to heaven. the dirty-blond took the opportunity to lean in and attach his lips to your neck, marking it up with searing kisses and bites, making his way to your collarbone.

"so perfect. so, so fucking perfect. the prettiest damn thing i've ever seen." he murmured against your moist skin, his hooded sapphire eyes peering up at you through his damp bangs that had become matted to his forehead.

you whined at the compliment, white-knuckling onto your bedsheets, and clenched around rafe's dick, having him see stars as his jaw went slack, a low, gravelly groan leaving his mouth as he gave your hip a smack, earning another clench around his dick and a whimper.

"come for me, daisy. need it, doll. need it s'bad, you have no fucking idea." he growled, moving his hand from your hip to start rubbing fast, short circles on your puffy clit, causing you to lift your hips up more, your lower body going with it, and let out a gasp, petals fluttering around rafe's slick-coated cock.

"noo, no! too much! please, no!" you choked out through the tears that were now streaming down your cheeks, your voice breaking as you reached your hand out to try and push his hand away, landing you a smack, and immediately drew your hand back to the bedsheets, crying and sniffling from the overwhelming amount of pleasure that crashed over you.

"uh-uh. come for me, daisy-doll, come around m' cock. c'mon, come for me." he continued, overstimulating your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching with predatory eyes as you began to convulse around his length, legs starting to tremble, and inaudible moans leaving your lips now.

your hand flew to the base of his neck, digging your nails into it, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a hiss of pleasure, leaning down closer to you. "want your name, please?" you asked him through incessant sniffles, his lips curling upwards into a prideful smirk, and hummed, brushing them against yours in a fleeting kiss.

"rafe," he told you before you were thrown over the edge, locking your legs around him and drawing him in closer, spasming around his dick as you came hard, screaming out his name as if you were calling out to a god, nails digging into his skin, making him follow suit and come inside of you.

his body fell limp on top of yours, sticky with sweat, his hard dick softening inside of you. both of you panted, gathering your bearings, and your eyes started to flutter shut as rafe lifted his head from your cleavage, looking to your blissed-out face, and smiled, lifting his hand from between your legs to cup the side of your face, stroking your skin with his thumb.

"what's your name?" he asked after catching his breath, still yet to know what it was after all this time.

you nuzzled into the warmth of his hand, a small, dazed smile pulling at your lips as you hummed, telling him your name. his eyebrows raised, repeating your name; it sounded like velvet on his tongue, making you giggle and nod your head.

he smiled. "pretty name for a pretty girl," he whispered softly, elated to finally know the name of the graceful daughter of the man he worked for, even more so that he was now closer to her than he'd ever been, now never going to leave her side, or bed, for that matter. he'll die happily, right there. with her.

© jjsgirly on tumblr ! do not copy or transfer my work onto any other platform, please.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very much appreciated. ♡

[middlingmay]

Gale Cleven never learned to flirt

And I have some HCs about that and how it came to bite him in the ass.

Here, have 2K+ words of the Buckies being an absolute mess.

Gale managed to reach his mid-twenties without ever flirting.

He and Marge had been inseparable since they were kids. Being together was second nature, so by the time their teenage years hit, the awkward rituals of their classmates trying to catch some guy or girl’s attention just didn't apply. Gale simply told Marge whatever he thought and felt. If it never strayed into the territory their classmates were so eager to dive into head (or pelvis) first; if it never sounded like the cheesy lines boys used to ease past a skirt, then that’s because he was too much of a gentleman. Everyone knew it. Marge’s dad never batted so much as an eye when she spent time with Gale, because he was such a good boy.

Really, that should have been the biggest clue among many before he signed up.

But then he did sign up, and he met John Clarence “Bucky” Egan, who flirted with everyone and everything.

No, really—everything.

One night after one too many beers, John was leaning against a coat rack, regaling Gale with some story or other. He gave a particularly enthusiastic wave of an arm, and nearly sent it toppling over, and him with it. But John's reflexes were still good even three sheets to the wind. He caught it before it hit the ground, set it up right and said, “Sorry, doll. I’m normally a gentleman. I’ll show you, sometime.”

It was the first time Gale laughed until he cried.

Gale had been flirted with plenty, of course. Others back home had batted eyelashes at him and sidled up to him and placed fleeting, coy touches in innocent places.

John did absolutely none of that.

He drawled and called Gale doll, sweetheart, dilly and beau. He’d look Gale in the eye whilst talking to someone else entirely and say, “My guy, Buck, here…”

He pressed their foreheads together and grabbed Gale's thighs tight and put an arm over the back of Gale's chair.

He’d chuck Gale's chin and press hands firm into the small of Gale's back, around the curve of his hip, into the dips of his waist and that was usually followed by a quick, deliberate clench of his sizeable hands.

John outright called him gorgeous, “a real heartbreaker”, and the others would laugh but that was always one of the few times John didn’t join in.

He watched Gale’s training and his flights like a hawk, bugging others over the radio: “Where’s Buck?” He’d bugged those in the tower so much, that he nearly got himself banned.

John sang love songs - badly - and smirked at Buck the whole time.

Finally, in the after, when they’d left Wyoming and Wisconsin behind for good, John had stepped up behind Gale in the kitchen in the house they shared and reached forward. He placed a whisky glass of apple juice on the counter and came round to Gale’s side. He leaned his forearms on the counter and looked up at Gale through tumbling curls he’d been letting grow a bit and said,

“Lookin’ awful lonely there, doll. What’s a guy gotta do to be your fella?”

And apparently Gale was easy, because he downed the apple juice to wet his parched throat and lips and threw his arms around John’s neck and kissed him with a fire he hadn't felt this side of a plane.

He threw the rest of himself at John, too, who caught him easy and hoisted him up on the counter. He pulled Gale's hips forward by the belt loops and ground his own hips up against him just as his tongue slid home dragged and teased out the gaps and moans Gale couldn’t control—

That afternoon, evening and night had been incredible. But, if Gale thought finally getting what they had been stepping towards for all these years would have taken some of the pressure off, he was dead wrong. He craved more.

Only, he had no idea how to go about getting it.

He wasn’t like John. Never had been. Flirting and being so damn bold didn’t come easy to Gale. Truth be told, he’d never has a reason to flirt before. And for the first time in his life, John was being absolutely no help.

If Gale didn’t know him any better, he would have said he was being shy.

But ain’t no man who could do those kinds of things with his tongue got any business being shy.

And Gale knew John wanted it, wanted him, just as badly. He caught the heated looks; heard the aborted gasps when Gale did something - anything - that showed off his physique (and his brain, he’d later discover). Christ, he felt it every time he woke up before John in the morning.

But it didn’t seem fair to always leave it to John. John had done the bulk of the legwork throughout their whole relationship, even before they finally figured it out. It was Gale’s turn.

So, he started easy.

The next morning that he woke first, the heavy weight of John at his back, he buried his smiling, blushing face in the pillow and rocked back into Bucky’s hardness. He did it harder than he expected, and Bucky woke with a groan pulled from the depths of him and grabbed Gale and pulled.

Gale revelled in his easy and rapid success and coyly teased, “John. You woke me up with that thing.”

And John abruptly released him, full of apologies and sweet kisses to his shoulders before he toddled off to the bathroom, leaving Gale painfully disappointed.

Disappointed, but not deterred. His next idea involved Bucky’s favourite hobby: lookin’ at Buck. There were horses stabled in a field nearby, and Gale had permission from the owners to take them out for some exercise anytime he wanted.

John had never been, but agreed readily enough when Gale asked him to come along.

Gale made sure to wear his tighter pants, and when they got there stripped off his shirt so he was left in only his tank, and mounted a horse called, of all things, Major.

Gale didn't go overboard. He was still workin’ an animal that demanded respect and care. But he made sure to show Bucky the flex of his thighs, the roll of his hips, the strength in him, staying in the saddle when Major wanted to jump.

He got a little lost in it and wasn’t sure how long it had been. But when he looked up, John was gone.

He found him back at the house, stumbling down the stairs red-cheeked, glassy-eyed and a little breathless. And Gale knew. He knew that look; had seen that look so many damn times since they were cadets in basic.

He looked at John with such vicious fury, that he’d gone and done that without him, that John had turned tail and given him a wide berth for the rest of the day.

Gale was going to pull out every damn hair on his head. He’d tried everything he could think of: pressing up against Bucky whenever he moved past; biting his lips like he knew John loved. He even rubbed Coppertone on John’s shoulders and back when he was out doing yard work in the heat one day. But, when Bucky had turned to him and rasped a husky, “Thank you”, Gale got so worried that John was dehydrated, he’d rushed back into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water and glowered at him until he drank it all, before fetching him another one.

One day, Gale had had enough and decided to take a leaf out of John’s book. He was gonna flirt with that man like he’d seen John do a dozen times before, even if it made him feel like the stupidest man alive.

He allowed himself a small whisky for courage. In return for John dramatically reducing his alcohol intake, Gale sometimes, rarely, let himself indulged and shared a glass with John.

He downed this one in one go and headed into the living room where John was trying to pick a record.

Gale sidled up to him, placed his arms around his waist and said, “Hi darlin’. Can I buy you a drink?”

John’s eyes crinkled, he smiled so wide, and leaned back into Gale's arms. “Oh, I dunno. My ma warned me about guys like you.”

Gale thrummed with excitement that John was playing along, finally, finally getting the damn hint. He let his hands move from John’s hips to the spot on his belly, just above the waistband. His fingers tickled and traced along the hem. “Guys like me?”

“Mhmm. Y’just wanna get me outta my skirt.”

Gale's breath hitched. He moved the palm of one hand to John’s thigh. Heavy and slow, he stroked it up and up, letting John feel the drag of each finger. “I think you’d look good outta your skirt,” he mumbled with a nip to John's ear. He stilled his hand on John’s upper thigh and with one finger, drew a teasing line across the expansive width of it. “Maybe keep the stockings on, though.”

John choked on a laugh, on thrilled disbelief, and Gale grinned into his neck and let John turn in his arms.

And the best part, Gale quickly decided, was that for the first time ever, he managed to make John blush—at the mention of women’s stockings no less, which he had much more experience in than Gale.

Gale rejoiced as John careened forward, tongue slipping straight into Gale’s panting, waiting mouth, and Gale whimpered in the dizzying satisfaction of it as they fucked their tongues into each other and their bodies writhed standing there, in a promise of what was to come.

But then, John pulled away. Gale watched him suck on his own tongue, like he was savouring the taste of something, before clarity and realisation descend over John’s face.

“Ah,” he said. “That make sense.”

Gale frowned, even as John drew him in close and pressed their foreheads together so softly and asked, “Wanna go to bed?”

Gale could have crowed. “Mhmm. Yeah. Yes.”

John brushed a hand through Gale’s hair. “Yeah. Lets get you all tucked in, before you wake up with a sore head.”

Drunk. John thought he was drunk. And rather than giving Gale what he wanted, he was trying to be a gentleman and send him to bed. But Gale was too frustrated to be endeared by the evidence of John’s goodness. Not tonight. No siree.

He almost screamed and threw his hands up in the air. “Goddamn it, John! I’m not drunk!” He even stamped his foot. “I am trying to fuck you!”

John just stood there dumbstruck while Gale raged.

“I have been trying for days! But you, for the first time in your sorry life, have become as dumb as a bag of rocks! How come a girl used to just have to look at'cha long enough and you were all over her, but I try every trick I got and nothing!”

That jolted John out of his Gale-induced stun. “Tricks? What tricks?!”

“Oh I don't know: how about rubbin' against you like a damn bitch in heat the other morning!”

“You said I woke you up! You haven’t been sleeping good!”

“And showing off with the horses—!"

“That was on purpose?! Buck - I left because I got hard watching you! I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of perv! No one should feel like that around an animal!”

“The I rubbed you down with Coppertone?!”

“I was gonna! I got that one and I was gonna, Buck! I swear to God, but then you made me shotgun water and started yellin’ at me about dehydration!”

Gale had worked himself into a fervour and paced the living room, barely looking at John.

“After that first night, you ain’t come near me like that again. And I know I’m hopeless at this kinda thing, and you got a lot more experience than me. But I don’t want it all to be on you. And Christ, John, I was starting to think you didn’t want—what are you doing?!”

John’s shirt was on the floor and he was using one hand to wrestle his undershirt over his head and the other to unbuckle his belt.

Muffled under the fabric of his shirt Gale heard him say, “You said you wanna fuck,” he finally pulled the shirt over his head and his curls sprung free and wild, “we’re gonna fuck.”

Gale stood with hands on his hips, still in his lecture pose. “Right here?”

John lost the belt and went for the buttons on his pants. “Right here.”

Gale drummed his fingers against his hips and stared as John dropped his pants. “Well…that’s, good.”

John snatched Gale by the belt and dragged him him. “Don't be getting shy on me, now.”

And normally that was exactly the kind of thing that would send all of Gale’s bravado running for the hills, but he’d been so desperate for so long that he pounced on John before he even made the conscious decision, and together they undressed him in record time.

John got him on the floor, somehow, and twisted and flipped them so Gale was on top, and Gale looked at him with one eyebrow arched in breathless judgement. “Really?”

John nodded wide-eyed. “Oh, yeah. Really. I’m serious, Buck. I don’t think I can go near those stables with you again. It’s indecent.”

Gale gave an experimental roll of the hips, and when John keened and bucked underneath him, Gale clenched his thighs and drove him down and brought him back under control easy. So he didn’t see that much difference between the skill this would take and what he used to work Major. But still. After what he’d put him through, John didn’t deserve to have it too easy. “Hm, I don’t know. How long you gonna last like this? You got a lot of making up to do.”

And John looked mortally offended, but he’d learned something about Gale through all of this too, and said, “About a long as you will when you see me in those stockings you’ve been fantasizing about.”

And Gale’s hips jerked without his permissions, and things descended beyond the power of words after that.

Later, as they languished on the living room floor with the throw from the couch tossed over them to ward of the evening chill, John turned to him and said, delighted, “You could just ask me to fuck you, you know. Ever thought of that?”

And Gale smirked and nipped at the finger tracing his cheek. “Don't count on it.”

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

He Suddenly Became a Plushie!?

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. This is a rush translation.

After finishing my work, I returned to Ieyasu's room.

Mai: "I'm back, Ieyasu. Huh?"

(I thought he'd be in his room by now.)

Ieyasu: "Hmm? Welcome back. Sorry, I must have fallen asleep without realizing."

Mai: "Huh? Where are you?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? I'm right here."

Mai: "Huh?"

As I heard Ieyasu's voice, a plush toy resembling him appeared beside the writing desk.

(No, a stuffed toy can't just stand up and talk, right!?)

Mai: "Wait a minute, are you serious? Is that really you!?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about?"

Ieyasu: "Huh? Aren't you unusually tall today?"

Mai: "No, you're just small! I mean, you're a plushie!?"

Ieyasu: "Plushie? What's that?"

Ieyasu: "!?"

After moving his body, he noticed his own hands and finally grasped the situation.

Mai: "What happened while I was away?"

Ieyasu: "Even if you ask me, I have no idea. I was just writing a letter and suddenly got sleepy. Then, when I woke up..."

Mai: "You found yourself like this?"

Ieyasu: "I guess."

Mai: "Are you okay? Can I touch you?"

Ieyasu: “Go ahead.”

Mai: “Okay.”

Carefully, I place the small Ieyasu in the palm of my hand.

(What should I do? He’s so tiny.)

Ieyasu: “Hey, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Mai: “Ah!”

Ieyasu tapped the tip of my nose and moved his short arms.

(Is he trying to fold his arms? They’re too short for that, though.)

Ieyasu: “I don’t know why this happened, but I’ll find a way to return to normal.”

Ieyasu: “And you, don’t worry more than necessary. Just keep smiling, as usual. Got it?”

He said that and pointed one arm towards my face.

(He's trying to reassure me, even though it's harder for him.)

Mai: "Thank you. You're right. Being depressed won't solve anything."

Mai: "Thanks to your cuteness, I'm feeling a little better."

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? Moving and talking dolls are creepy as hell."

(He's embarrassed.)

Mai: "That's not true. You're small and cute."

Ieyasu: "My bad. I guess the real me is huge and totally not cute."

Mai: "Your normal self is tall and handsome! I love your usual appearance, of course."

Mai: "So, can I help you look for a way to return to normal?"

Ieyasu: "You're still going to help, even if I say no anyway."

Ieyasu: "Do as you like."

I couldn't help but run my fingers over his cheek as he turned away.

Ieyasu: "Hey, what are you doing?"

Mai: "Hehe, you're just too fluffy and cute."

Ieyasu: "Stop grinning like that. I’ll remember this when I return to normal."

He turned away, sulking.

(Even as a plushie, he's still stubborn. Huh?)

Suddenly, a black stain on his back caught my attention.

I casually shifted my gaze and noticed a brush beneath the writing desk.

Mai: "Ieyasu, there's ink on your back!"

Ieyasu: "Really? It doesn't hurt or itch."

Mai: "Are you sure it's okay? Ink isn't poisonous, right?"

Ieyasu: "Calm down. It's just ink. I can just wash it off."

Mai: "Then let's wash it!"

Ieyasu: "Now?"

Mai: "I'm worried it'd stain your clothes. Just wait. I'll prepare everything quickly!"

Ieyasu: "Hey!"

Quickly preparing hot water and a basin, I lifted him with both hands.

Mai: "I prepared it in a hurry, but I hope it's okay to get you wet."

Ieyasu: "It should be fine. Worst-case scenario, you can just dry me off."

Mai: "Still, if we leave it, the stain will only get worse."

Ieyasu: "If you're going to dilly-dally, then don't wash it."

Mai: "I'll do it!"

With determination, I gently submerged Ieyasu in the warm water.

Mai: "Ieyasu, is it too hot? Are you okay with the pressure? Does it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "You're worrying too much. Just do it properly."

Mai: "But even you are careful when washing the Wasabi doll."

Ieyasu: "That was something you gave me, so I can't help it."

Mai: "Then I can't help it either. I'm washing something precious to me."

Ieyasu: "I see."

Ieyasu: "So, how long are you planning to keep washing me?"

Mai: "Well, it seems like the ink has soaked in more than it looks. Ah!"

The ink spread to his stomach, and I panicked.

Mai: "Wait, I'll get it off now!"

Ieyasu: "Ugh."

Mai: "Did it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "No. It just tickles."

Mai: "Sorry, I'll try to be gentler."

Ieyasu: "Hey, it's getting even more ticklish."

Mai: "But it's not coming off easily."

Ieyasu: "Guh!"

As I gently rubbed, he trembled more and more.

Ieyasu: "Hey, aren't you done yet?"

Mai: "Just a little more. Hang in there, Ieyasu!"

Ieyasu: "Even if you say that, I..."

The small Ieyasu started squirming in my hand, almost falling into the basin.

Mai: "Ieyasu, don't move!"

Ieyasu: "I can't take it anymore!"

The next moment, water splashed everywhere.

Ieyasu: "Huh?"

Mai: "----!"

(He's back to normal!)

Mai: "Maybe getting wet was the trick?"

Ieyasu: "Who knows? I'm just relieved to be back to normal."

Mai: "Wait, what about the ink stain?"

I quickly moved closer to check his back and stomach, but I couldn't find any.

Mai: "Great, it seems like everything's fine!"

Ieyasu: "Fine? Not quite."

Before I could react, the wet Ieyasu grabbed my waist and swiftly pushed me down.

Mai: "Um, Ieyasu?"

Ieyasu: "I told you several times it was ticklish, but you didn't listen."

Ieyasu: "Now it's payback time."

Mai: "Ah..."

He untied my obi, opened my kimono, and touched my bare skin.

Mai: "Wait, Ieyasu, you're soaking wet. You need to change."

Ieyasu: "I'll be taking it off anyway."

Mai: "Mm."

His rough hands caressed me, and he kissed me more passionately than usual. 

That night, we shared the warmth of our bodies until Ieyasu was completely satisfied.

Ikesen Masterlist

[starlightrosa]

LEE POMNI PLSS lers jax or ragatha or both maybe they had a sleepover in the circus or pillow fight turned tickle fight <33

Oh anon, that's such a wonderful prompt! I hope you enjoy, my dear :)

Giggly Jester

Summary: A simple pillow fight ends in a very ticklish way for a certain jester.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warning: slight intrusive thoughts for Pomni (in bold, there's only one though)

Enjoy! (First time writing TADC ever, hope u like it my dear :D)

Life in the Digital Circus was… interesting, to say the least. And very… unique characters too. A ringleader with a pair of teeth for a head, a doll who was probably the nicest of the lot, a sarcastic purple bunny, a chess piece who was slowly going insane, a sentient ribbon who cried when her mask was broken, whatever the hell “Zooble” was supposed to be… yes, that was what Pomni was given to work with when she had put on that fateful headset, and was transported to The Amazing Digital Circus.

The ringleader, a guy called Caine, had set up adventures with the whole crew on Pomni’s first day, which consisted of gathering up some creatures called “Gloinks.” Unsurprisingly, Caine’s latest “adventure” wasn’t very well received by any of the Digital Circus members, least of all Pomni. A new girl to the circus and its whimsy wonder, it was very easy for the poor dear to get a bit overwhelmed, and Pomni was trying her best to process in her very colourful room.

That was when Caine popped into existence in her room, scaring the poor jester so much that her jester hat fell off and hit the floor with a comical splat, her little musical bells jangling as they made contact with the ground of her room.

“Wake up, Pomni!”

“AAAH! Oh my God! Caine, don’t do that!” Pomni implored, the jester clutching at her digital chest, feeling her heart pumping beneath the pale skin. Caine tutted and waggled his gloved finger as Pomni picked her hat back up and jammed it back on her head.

“Now, now, Pomni. Don’t be such a jumpy Josie! I just wanted to make sure you’d hear me. Jax and Ragatha would like to meet you at the main stage. They have an idea to help you get acquainted with your new life here in the Digital Circus. And we all know that I, as the ringleader, fully endorse any idea to make you comfortable here.”

“Ragatha and Jax? Oh no…” Pomni muttered. Ragatha was nice, sure… but Jax? That sarcastic lilac rabbit only ever liked to see funny things happen to people, regardless of intentions. Pomni was sure nothing good could come from being with Jax.

“Come along, Pomni! Let us not dilly dally, or dally dilly for that matter!” Caine urged, grabbing Pomni by the waist. With a snap of his gloved fingers, Pomni was transported to the main stage. She felt really dizzy after the fact, her colourful irises whirling about in her head briefly before her vision managed to correct.

She turned around to scold Caine for doing that, but the AI had vanished. Pomni sighed and looked around.

“Ragatha? J-Jax?” Pomni called, walking forward in the dark. Why were the lights off?

“Heads up!” came the only warning call before Pomni’s face met something soft, startling her. BIFF!

The lights clicked on and Pomni looked down to see… a pillow? Just a regular pillow that had been thrown at her. She looked back up to see Ragatha making her way towards her.

“Jax, you didn’t need to do that! You could have hurt her!” the doll scolded.

“Calm your stitches, Ragdoll. It’s only a pillow. Couldn’t hurt the new sucker with one of these if I tried.” Jax muttered, the rabbit’s ear twitching a bit in slight annoyance. He couldn’t do anything fun here, geez.

“You aren’t hurt, are you Pomni?” Ragatha asked, gently searching her face for injury. Pomni shook her head, her nerves hitting her again.

“Why are we here? Why do you have pillows?” Pomni asked, noting that Ragatha was holding one too.

“Hey, Kinger wasn’t using ‘em for once. He’s enjoying his little bug buddies, so me and Ragdoll decided to come up with a plan to make ya relax more.” Jax responded.

“Are you familiar with the concept of a pillow fight, Pomni?” Ragatha gently asked, smiling softly at the jumpy joker with her pinwheel eyes.

Pomni racked her brains. She used to have pillow fights with friends back when she was little. But trying to remember her life in the real, human world was becoming more difficult by the day. Pomni didn’t want to forget, but it seemed like that was an eventuality. She couldn’t even remember her human name.

I don’t wanna forget. But I can’t remember.

“Hey, shortstack. You still in there?” Jax asked, getting bored at Pomni’s long silence. “Don’t tell me we gotta teach her what a pillow fight is.”

“Shut up, Jax. Pomni? You in there?” Ragatha asked, keeping her voice calm. “Pomni, come on out of there. Don’t fall down the rabbit hole again.”

“S-Sorry…” Pomni stammered, coming back to reality again. She already had blushing makeup on her avatar, but Pomni still felt a slight red rush claim her pale face.

“Don’t apologise, Pom. You’re gonna be okay. Promise.” Ragatha smiled, and Pomni felt her shoulders gently untense the tiniest bit. Ragatha was very comforting in this strange world of whimsical wonder.

“This is all so adorable, but can we get this goin’ already?” Jax asked, holding a pillow in his arms.

“Oh yeah. So Pomni, basically this is just a way of goofing off, having fun, y’know? We’re gonna have a pillow fight. Pick up that pillow over there and when I say go, we begin. Okay?”

“Alright, sure…” Pomni said, going to where Ragatha instructed and scooping her feathery weapon off the ground. The pillow felt weirdly comforting in her arms. Maybe she could keep it.

“Alright. And… go!” Ragatha called, the three of them immediately whirling their pillows around. Pomni got a good few shots on Jax because of her smaller height, only for Ragatha to even the score. Feathers were comically flying everywhere, showering the trio in a fluffy rain. Ragatha was giggling, Jax was snickering, and Pomni slowly joined this melody of laughter as they whacked each other with pillows. This was actually… fun!

But feathers tend to stick, my friends. Specifically, tend to stick on clothes. And the first one to feel this was Pomni. She began to feel something lightly brushing at her collarbones and neck. She stopped and put her pillow down to try and pull these feathers from her clothes. Which meant she was no longer on guard.

And Jax hit her with a pillow. But he had sneakily opened his pillowcase and upended the feathers inside Pomni’s clothes. Pomni squeaked and started to wriggle immediately, the feathers brushing and reaching to more places the longer she wriggled.

“Ha! You look like a moulting chicken, shortstack!” Jax teased. Pomni’s laughter grew louder as she could no longer remain standing, the jumpy jester now lying on the floor and giggling to herself as these feathers were stuck deep in her clothes.

Jax chuckled at Pomni’s little predicament. “Welp. Guess that’s feathers one, Pomni zero.”

“Jahahahax! It’s tickling! The f-feheheheathers! They’re tickling mehehe!” Pomni answered back. Ragatha chuckled and put her pillow down, approaching Pomni with Jax in tow.

“C’mere, Pomni. Try to hold still, and we’ll see if we can get these feathers out of your clothes.”

“Ah, c’mon. Can’t we just leave her like this, Ragdoll? It’s much funnier seeing her laugh, you know~” Jax protested, a particularly shrill squeal from Pomni cutting off the next thing he was going to say.

Ragatha wasn’t listening. She gently sat on the left side of Pomni, as Jax took the right side. The two flashed a cheeky smile down at Pomni, as Ragatha saw the amount of feathers stuck in Pomni’s clothes. In her collar, her shirt, her sleeves too. And all the while, Pomni was lost in a world of tickle-induced giggles.

“Hehehelp mehehe!” Pomni begged, causing Ragatha to chuckle as she held Pomni in her arms, while Jax reached for the feathers. He snuck his gloved hands up her shirt and grabbed some of the feathers. He began to slowly drag them down her stomach as he worked to pull them out, taking his sweet time just so he could hear more of Pomni’s laughter.

“Nohohoho, Jahahax! D-Don’t dohohoho thahahat!” Pomni squealed, trying her best to squirm, but Ragatha held her still. Pomni’s legs kicked in an effort to release some of that ticklish energy. Jax just laughed.

“We’re tryin’ to help ya, kid. And you just keep laughin’! What’s so funny, Pomni? Are these feathers t-t-tickling? Are they, Pomni?”

Pomni felt herself blush even more at Jax’s words.

“No teheheheasing!” Pomni squeaked, trying to cover her face. But then Ragatha simply held Pomni’s hands in hers, preventing her from shielding any tickle spots.

“Your smile is adorable, Pom-Pom. Tickle, tickle, giggly jester~” Ragatha cooed, smirking mischievously as Pomni’s laughter increased on hearing the nickname.

Pomni could barely fight back. These feathers tickled like anything, and Jax removing them so slowly was not helping. Pomni was lost in a world of tickly feathers, and she just couldn’t do anything but laugh and half-heartedly squirm in Ragatha’s arms.

Yet somewhere in the back of Pomni’s mind, she supposed this wasn’t the worst thing to happen to her in the circus. Not by a long shot. Compared to everything else that had happened, this was actually… nice.

“Enjoying yourself, Pomni?” Ragatha asked, gently smiling down at her. Pomni nodded, and relaxed in Ragatha’s arms as Jax removed the feathers, pulling the softest, most honey-sweet giggles out of Pomni’s mouth.

“Y-Yeaheheh. It tickles…” Pomni murmured, giggling up a storm. Ragatha smiled.

“I know, Pom-Pom. I know.”

“Got to admit, kid. This is kinda adorable.” Jax continued. “Alright. Flip her over for me, Ragdoll.”

“Not my name, but whatever.” Ragatha muttered, flipping Pomni so the jester now laid on her stomach. The movement made the feathers on Pomni’s back move. Pomni was pretty ticklish on her back, so the jester’s laughter spiked. “AH! They’re ohohon my bahahahack! Ah, gehehet them ohohohout, Jahahax! Please!”

“Goin’ as fast as I can, kid. Just don’t move~” Jax challenged, even as he grabbed one of them, lodged at the top of Pomni’s spine. He gripped the feather and slid it slowly down her spine, enjoying Pomni’s reaction. The jester was absolutely shaking with laughter!

“JAHAHAHAX! STOHOHOP IHIHIHIT!” Pomni shrieked.

“Ha! Are you kidding, I’m not stopping for anything, kid! You’re so ticklish, it’s hilarious!” Jax fired back, but he still removed the feather. Once that one was out of the way, there was only a few left. But they’d formed a clump. A very ticklish clump, if Pomni’s choked back laughter was anything to go by.

“Ooh, Pomni. Hold on to Ragdoll, this clump is right on your ticklish little back. I’m gonna have to get them all at once. Ready~?” Jax teased, making a show of cracking his knuckles dramatically as he leaned over Pomni’s back, his fingers wiggling in preparation.

Ragatha held Pomni’s sides as Jax dived in, grabbing the ball of feathers and slowly sliding them down Pomni’s back in an effort to pull them out. Pomni pounded her fists on the ground, tears in her eyes from how much it tickled. She squealed and laughed like never before.

Eventually Jax pulled out the clump of feathers, finally giving Pomni some relief from those maddeningly soft tickles. She relaxed and sighed as Ragatha softly ran her hands over Pomni’s back, getting rid of the ghost tickles as she helped the giggly jester up.

“You sure are ticklish, Pomni.” Ragatha chuckled. Jax nodded.

“All that yelling, though. Think I’m deaf.” Jax joked. Pomni rolled her eyes.

Yes, life in the Digital Circus was strange, random, and confusing. But honestly, it felt good for Pomni to laugh and forget her problems for a little, even if that meant being at the mercy of a bunch of feathers in the aftermath of a ferocious pillow fight.

“We gotta do this again. What do you say, shortstack?” Jax asked, smirking. Pomni chuckled and made a non-committal noise as she walked back to her room. When she reached it, she opened her door and laid on her bed, staring back up at the ceiling with a soft smile on her face.

Maybe they could do this again, indeed.

The End! Hope you enjoyed!

[mothmothm0th]

Strangeness of In the Attic, or Foxglove's Perfectly Ordinary Break

It was quarter past two in the afternoon, which meant it was teatime soon, which meant Miss would be waking up soon, which meant Foxglove was right on schedule. It had watered the house plants, tended the garden, and fed the pond monster. It had placed empty casks of wine at the ends of three dead end tunnels and sent out invitations to three of Miss' least powerful enemies. That meant it was time for the task Foxglove dreaded the most: dillying the dallies.

Foxglove did not want to dilly the dallies. The mere fact that there was a task Miss could assign that Foxglove would prefer to decline if given the chance caused a stutter in its clockwork. Miss' consistent insistence Foxglove do it regardless pushed Foxglove to the limits of its Purpose. Fifteen minutes of such activity that would neither benefit nor hinder Miss. How could Miss punish it so?

Foxglove knew why, of course. It had collapsed one evening mere minutes before its vesper maintenance. Miss had taken this failure as the unforgivable strike against Her that Miss ought have. Miss wished to make this punishment task hourly. For every sixty minute block, Foxglove would have to spend twenty simply doing nothing. Cruel! And unusual! But Miss was merciful and allowed Foxglove to haggle its punishment down to a single dillying every two days. For that reason, Foxglove did not complain about the two percent loss to its productivity. Too much, anyway. Foxglove permitted itself a small amount of complaining. Complaining about dillying helped it fill it's dillying quota. With that thought in its little dolly head, Foxglove stomped up the cellar steps.

"It was that one's idea! It should do it!" came a cry from the parlor. It was Jessamine. Foxglove next heard Baneberry yell something back. Was Foxglove allowed to stop its fellow dolls from fighting? That would certainly count as benefiting Miss but perhaps Miss would see that it was an emergency. Jessamine and Baneberry were the best of friends. They should not be fighting!

Foxglove passed by Buttonbush in the kitchen. It looked fantastic in its big poofy maid's dress. Buttonbush was busy preparing tea and lunch; Foxglove didn't want to interrupt it. Being the focal character can be taxing and Buttonbush deserved to remain a mere cameo this time.

"...its small hat!"

Whatever Jessamine said about Baneberry's small hat, it must have been very rude indeed. When Foxglove entered the parlor, it took Baneberry several seconds to notice it and not even a beat for Jessamine to be filled with regret and fear. Rambling apologies poured out and drowned out Baneberry's tears. On a sofa in the corner of the room, Snowdrop read The Goodest Doll and Other Scary Stories in perfect ignorance of the cacophony surrounding her. A blissful Purpose.

"Jessamine, Baneberry!" Foxglove called for their attention. It had seen Miss do this so many times before. Fists digging into its sides, leaning slightly forward. Foxglove was a visage of Miss in doll form. The effect was immediate. Foxglove did relish its ability to bring its sister-dolls in line.

"This one wants to know why Jessamine and Baneberry were fighting!"

The two dolls glanced at each other and opened their mouths. A cacophany of explanations ensued, and Foxglove nearly wished it was dillying the dallies. Two accountings of misgivings and recounted insults brought Foxglove no closer to an understanding.

Just as Foxglove was about to give up -sixteen minutes till the end of dillying-, Snowdrop cleared her throat; purely an affectation of course. Though, perhaps its voicebox was rusty from disuse.

"Baneberry wanted to search the attic with Jessamine. Jessamine didn't want to," Snowdrop said.

"If Baneberry wants to be a witchling some day, Baneberry can't be afraid of attics!"

"Jessamine knows attics are scary and full of terrors!"

Foxglove shushed them both. "Why does Baneberry want to go to the attic?" it asked.

"This one heard a noise!" Baneberry said. "This one was reading a book on doll witches in its room when it heard a 'thump!' from upstairs!" It emphasised its point with a 'thump!'-style gesture.

"Baneberry is s-silly! Miss said the attic is e-empty!"

"But this one heard it! It heard the 'thump!'" Another 'thump!'-style gesture.

Before Jessamine could restart the argument in earnest, Foxglove raised an index finger. It was another one of Miss' gestures. It had an idea. Surely there was nothing in the attic that would be of consequence to Miss. This was the perfect way to dilly the dallies! Foxglove was a genius!

"This one recommends we explore together!"

Jessamine and Baneberry looked at Foxglove in stunned silence. They glanced at each other, then turned back to Foxglove.

"Is Foxglove punishing this one and Baneberry?" Jessamine asked. Baneberry nodded along furiously.

A punishment? Hmm... As far as either doll knew, Foxglove was still on the clock, as it were. Neither doll knew of Miss' orders for it. If it said it was a punishment, they would have to follow along, and since they were on break, it wouldn't even hurt productivity. Surely this was an act neither beneficial or harmful to Miss! Thus, Foxglove nodded.

"Th-then... This one thinks Jessamine and this one have no choice," Baneberry said. There was a hint of regret in its girlish voice. It had wanted to offload the scary stuff to Jessamine, after all.

And speaking of, Jessamine had gone pale. Metaphorically, of course. Its bronze faceplate was physically incapable of such an act. Yet, there was a kind of stillness in its frame that was not Still at all.

"It shall be fine," Foxglove said. "With a party of free, these ones can triumph over the attic with ease."

"Excuse me. That's not even a complete light party," Snowdrop said without lifting her head from her book.

"Are you volunteering?" Foxglove asked. Perhaps it could extend its reasoning to 'punish' her too.

"I'm not," she said. "Merely commenting. I have important books to read."

"Then these ones shall be a lighter party!" Foxglove proclaimed triumphantly. Jessamine groaned. Baneberry fiddled with the thin brim of its hat. Neither argued, however, which Foxglove took as assent. Eleven minutes till the end of dillying time. Eleven minutes was plenty of time to look through an attic. Foxglove clapped its hands together. "To the attic!"

Foxglove had never actually been to the attic. Miss never went there either. There was a certain *aura* about the place. Foxglove could swear the air in the immediate vicinity of the stairs leading up there has significantly mustier than anywhere else in the cottage or even its cellar complex. Even the floor around the stairs seemed somehow withered, nails rusted. It even creaked a little, no matter how delicate one stepped. With each step upwards, the decay seemed worse and worse. Paint seemed to chip away like fraying cloth, vibrant red giving way to the silver of dead wood. Was it like this from disuse alone? Or was there something else going on? There was but one way to find out. Up, and up.

At the very summit of the stairs, Jessamine laid its hand on Foxglove's shoulder. Poor doll didn't even have the willpower to apply any force. "Please, let's turn back," it said. How did it manage to be so expressive with its fear with its unmoving faceplate? Beside it, Baneberry didn't seem to be faring much better. It had enabled its floatation enchantment. Perhaps that was the smart thing to do. Foxglove certainly did not truly trust the wood underfoot.

"This one is not afraid of attics," Foxglove said. And yet, the layer of rust creeping across the door handle did stir some hesitation. The things it did to dilly the dallies. Foxglove laid its hand on the handle. Despite its gentle grip, it nevertheless felt rust crumble against its palm. If only Miss hadn't given it a sense of touch. If only.

Foxglove turned the handle and pushed. It only barely budged. Foxglove pulled, and the door didn't even do that. Jessamine took a close look, tapping its brass lips. "The door is stuck," it said. Baneberry giggled. Laughter is a common response to acute anxiety, Foxglove knew. But indeed, exposed wood, a bit of humidity, and enough time had together jammed the thing stuck.

"Can Jessamine help this one?" Foxglove asked, but only after leaving a very, very shallow dent in the door in the shape of its shoulder. The door took 1d1-1 bludgeoning damage; Foxglove took 1d4 morale damage plus 1d2 from asking Jessamine. How dreadful!

"This one thought that one would ask it *before* hurting itself," Jessamine chortled. It gestured to Foxglove to step aside as it raised its leg. Critical hit! The door swung right open. A powerful wind blew stale, stale air in the trio's faces. As if books had grown old and died, turned to dust. In that moment, Foxglove was thankful Miss had crafted its nose without the ability to get itchy.

"It stinks," Jessamine said. Foxglove agreed. It smelled like... sulphur. Just like lake monster feed. Wait. Foxglove patted the pockets of its maid dress. A slight squish. Oh. Apologies were exchanged.

Tentatively, Foxglove stepped in the room. The floorboards creaked in a way that reminded it of a dying ox. No, really! It was as if one of those things the boys in the internet radio shows had to make funny sounds on cue! The expression on Baneberry's dollish little face convinced Foxglove the attic hadn't already drained its sanity points. The oxen plank was real. Carefully avoiding the oxen plank, Jessamine followed in. Baneberry floated along.

The attic seemed oddly devoid of colour. Ash, dust, and that silver of dead wood. Even Jessamine's brass seemed to gather a thin layer of patina. Unless that pale green was its nausea. Foxglove didn't know. It didn't ask, also. In the grey, the dolls found themselves surrounded by crates, crates, and more crates.

"This one senses magicks," Baneberry whispered. It was glancing about the room, arms close to its chest.

"Where from? Which kind?" Foxglove asked. Baneberry was far more sensitive to such things than either it or Jessamine was. One time, Baneberry had caught a stray conundrum floating about in Foxglove's room. Foxglove didn't believe it until Baneberry had contained the conundrum in a cipher-solution casket. Foxglove could, so it claimed, tell from its complexity that the conundrum had been in the room for a couple of weeks --likely since that experiment with the pizza toppings. Foxglove still wasn't sure what a conundrum actually was but after it was contained, Foxglove had an easier time with its puzzle games again. Which is to say, Foxglove trusted Baneberry on these matters.

"This one doesn't know. Everywhere. The whole attic. It feels evil."

"Of course it's evil. It's an attic," Jessamine said.

"No! Not like that. An attic's evil is supposed to just be semiotic. It's a signifier of sorts for the inherent evil of the past. But this attic is..." Baneberry tapped its lip. "Ontologically evil. Like a mistake in the possibility space."

Jessamine glanced at Foxglove. Clearly, Baneberry had never found a conundrum in *its* room.

"Is it dangerous?" Foxglove asked.

"This one isn't sure. This one thinks it might be nothing. Perhaps the mistake-ness this one senses is just what attics signify. This one doesn't know. This one hasn't been in an attic before. This one doesn't like being in the attic. This one wants to leave."

Foxglove consulted the ticking of its clockwork. Four minutes left on its dillying shift. Four minutes was too long to be idle, yet not enough to begin anything. No, Foxglove had to stick to this course. "This one wants you to stay," it said.

Baneberry floated erratically but found a brave face. "Yes, miss," it said. Jessamine groaned like a sinking cruise ship. Seemed like it too was harbouring some ideas which Foxglove's words had run aground. Took the wind right out of its sails, ran into an iceb- I'll stop.

Something glinted in the far corner of the room. Through the monochrome, a faint speck of gold peeked out from under a linen sheet. Foxglove tippy-toed around the crates blocking its path. It wished it had Baneberry's floaty spell. Still, it managed it, and without splinters, too. Looking behind, Baneberry struggled to lift Jessamine off the ground. Jessamine could have simply walked through the stack, Foxglove thought. Tossed them aside, punched a hole... Perhaps Jessamine was showing respect to the semiotics at play.

The three dolls gathered around the linen sheet. From here, up close, it was clear that it was hiding a painting. The golden glint had come from its antique frame. Rather an ornate frame at th- a simple frame of straight li- a frame reminiscent of baroq- a frame styled after a headache. Foxglove wanted to look away. It couldn't. It didn't want to lay a hand on the sheet. The linen felt like velvet. Nothing good could come of unveiling the portrait. Its hand gripped the sheet and--

Jessamine grabbed Foxglove's wrist like a vice. The pain snapped Foxglove to its senses and it let go of the coarse and damp sheet.

"There's a portrait in every attic," Baneberry said, its voice quiet and frail. "Without fail, there's a portrait."

"These ones should leave."

Foxglove's inner clock ticked uncertainty. How long was there left on its dillying? No, no. Regardless of whatever else, it needed to know. This wasn't about obeying Miss' commands anymore. Foxglove raised its hand to silence Jessamine's compaints. No matter how much Jessamine groaned, Foxglove would stay. And if it stayed, so did Jessamine. Foxglove reached for the sheet again. Three ticks of its clockwork. Tick, tick, tick, pull! A great many grains of sand fell on Foxglove's shoes.

And then there was sand everywhere. It poured in like a river. Sand, sand, sand. Before any of the dolls could say sandcastle, they were knee deep in sand. Waist deep. A scorching wind blew in Foxglove's face. The portrait kept spewing sand. A strange person of indistinct gender with their mouth open, only their top row of teeth and wide open eyes visible through the stream of sand. Sand, absolute sand...

And the scorching sun against Foxglove's eyelids. Was it over? Had it been sent to hell? Something jerked its shoulder.

"Wake up," the something said in Baneberry's voice. "Wake up!"

Foxglove's first thought upon seeing the open skies was to wonder at the majesty. Perfectly blue, nary a cloud or girder in sight. Hey, wait a second. Where was the attic? There was a ceiling there. It's gone now. The shock jolted Foxglove upright. Sand fell off its hair and onto its shoulders. Irritating. It would take forever to get its clothes cleaned now, what with sand's property of getting everywhere. Hopefully the coarse texture wouldn't harm its textiles.

"This is a desert," Jessamine noted. "Sahara, if this one were to guess. Foxglove, this is that one's fault."

Foxglove nodded. No use arguing that. No, it was best to seek some direction. Had they crashed a plane here, their best option would have been to remain with the wreckage. But there was nothing, absolutely nothing. Although, and Foxglove knew its magickal knowledge was lacking, if the portrait had teleported them to Sahara, then the attic would still bear traces of that magick. One does not punch a hole in spacetime and leave no mark.

"Destinations seldom do, however. The outgoing hole scabs easier," Baneberry explained. Foxglove hoped that verb was a metaphor of sorts.

Meanwhile, Jessamine was staring into the distance. Perhaps the circumstances were too much for it to handle, Foxglove thought. Only, then Baneberry joined in. What could have caught their attention so? Foxglove trained its focus to where it thought the others were looking and... In the distance, it saw it glimmer. It looked like a faint outline. And a cross inside, like a window. But it couldn't be. It's...

"Just a mirage," Jessamine sighed.

"No no no," Baneberry said, wagging its index finger in the air. "This one thinks... This one thinks that window is not a mirage!"

"Then what does that one think it is?"

"It's a window!"

Another groan from Jessamine. Baneberry seemed serious, though.

"This one thinks that mirage is actually the attic window!"

"Then that means..." Foxglove trailed off.

"That means it's not a mirage," Baneberry exclaimed. "This," it plucked at the air. "Is the mirage!" And it tore a hole in the Saharan air. Through it, Foxglove could see grey wood. They were in the attic still! Baneberry tore at the hole, shredding it away like old wallpaper till it could fit its head through. Jessamine rushed in to help it, cutting into the mirage with a survival knife. Foxglove simply stood there, dumbfounded.

And then, poof! The mirage was gone, reduced to a thick layer of dust covering each and every surface. The three dolls looked like they were carved from marble, though only until Baneberry sneezed. Miss really Made it with the ability to sneeze? Oh, but there was that distinct itch in Foxglove's nose too. How long had it been? The question was expelled through its nose. And then, a sound like a gong going off. Jessamine, too? The three dolls sneezed and sneezed. In no time at all, the air was foggy with dust. Dust, swirling.

Foxglove's hair blew in the wind. Wind? Wind. It circled the attic and gathered the dust into a whirlwind. Foxglove had no hope but to close its eyes and brace itself. The wind howled in its ears and nearly drowned out Baneberry's cries.

And then, quiet. Foxglove opened its eyes again. It saw nothing. Or, well, as Snowdrop might say, Foxglove didn't see nothing because nothing is the absence of things, and Foxglove did see... something. It and its fellow dolls had been swallowed up by a deep dark void which an entity lacking in erudition might mistake for nothing. Another one of the attic's illusions, it must be. Baneberry's statements about ontological evil seemed irrefutable.

Something else Snowdrop might have noted, were she there, would be that the only time one sees dust floating in the air is when it has light to reflect off of. Snowdrop might also add that this is true of anything, really, but that in a void where one's compatriots are lit by some unknown means, which seemed independent of actual light, one might miss the presence of dust. And indeed, Foxglove, Jessamine, and Baneberry did not notice the dust permiating their surroundings.

Not until the dust coalesced, anyway. Great winds again surged towards a common end and dust bunnies and specks of sand and little chips of paint formed together a dreadful shadow. Jessamine steeled itself, Baneberry spun in the air. Foxglove too could not pretend to be brave.

"Whooo the fuuuck are yooou?" the winds and the detritus asked.

"These ones are dolls." A brave voice against the wind. Was that a hint of glee in Jessamine's voice? "Who in the name of copulation is that one?"

"Iii aaam... Iii aaam..." The coalescing figure waited a moment. Fair dues, it must be dreadfully difficult to speak when you are a pile of dust and wind. A moment of courtesy, to permit the being to solidify. The cloud took shape, more human, though by way of a giant snake. Perhaps an eastern dragon? Snowdrop would know better...

"I am," the being's voice boomed, "that nagging feeling, the haunting presence. I am that which you would rather fucking forget. I am what you avoid, what you dread."

Jessamine gestured something. Foxglove agreed.

"Where there is an attic, there I am. And you, 'dolls', have disturbed my divine realm!"

Foxglove glanced over to Baneberry. Their eyes met.

"And thus I shall rain my divine judgement upon you little fucks!"

Jessamine dug its heels to the void-that-was-ground. Baneberry steadied itself in the void-that-was-air. Foxglove reached into the fabric-that-was-pocket.

"Take this divine L and become dust within my realm!"

Two things happened at once. First, the being claiming itself to be the god of attics formed a great big hand and brought it down upon the dolls with enough force to shatter continents. Second, the trio of dolls sprung into action at once. Foxglove threw lake monster feed in the air. Globs of sulphur flew against the divine dust cloud and were immediately aerosolised. Baneberry cast an incantation, a blue flame which followed the trail of monster feed into the cloud. The moment it connected with the evil gestalt, it conflagrated into a fierce cerulean bonfire. Lit by fire, Jessamine channelled all its love for its Miss into its knife handle and drew from the sheath a shining blade of justice. With a single stroke, the blade tore through god and realm both. The light overwhelmed, and for the third time, Foxglove closed its eyes.

When Foxglove opened its eyes again, the attic was just an attic. Ordinary, dull, full of old clutter. The three dolls walked the stairs in silence. Buttonbush was waiting there to guide them to the veranda where Miss and Snowdrop awaited them. Foxglove struggled to meet Miss' gaze, and when she dusted it off, it could only muster a creak of a thanks. Jessamine and Baneberry weren't much for conversation either.

Later that evening, Miss gathered her dolls to discuss matters. No mention of the attic was made, though Foxglove was excused from its dillying duties.

In the dead of night, as Foxglove laid in its bed, Snowdrop knocked on its door. They conversed for a long time and though Snowdrop didn't know much, it had read of a being like the one Foxglove had met. Not a god, just something above humans and a grammatician's worst nightmare.

They couldn't even call themselves godslayers...

[otomefiend]

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: I'm his cherished doll

Chapter 3 Premium

Prologue (@/archiveikemen ♡)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I legit can't wait when this weasel finally owns his vulnerability.

~~Part 1~~

When we left the castle... I began my shaky journey bouncing about in Alfons' pocket.

Wrapped in his sweet scent, I felt like I was being hugged, which made my heart flutter.

(What if Roger fails to make the medicine? What if it doesn't work even if it's made?)

(... what is Alfons planning to do with me when this plan fails?)

While I was busy worrying about the outcome, Alfons made it straight to the destination,

And easily obtained the drug.

As we reached an empty road, I cautiously peeked out of the pocket.

Kate: "...... thank you, Alfons."

Alfons: "Don't mention it."

Kate: "Um... why did you slow down...?"

Alfons: "I just felt like it."

Kate: "Can you hurry up a bit...!?"

(I need to take the medicine before he does something questionable again...)

Seeing my impatience, Alfons snickered and stopped walking.

Alfons: "Haa.... I'm tired after covering so much distance."

Alfons: "I can't move any further without my adorable toy cheering me on."

(So fickle...)

Alfons: "...heh."

Much to my frustration, my stern gaze was met with his amused one.

Kate: "Then what do you want me to do...?"

Alfons: "Hmm... Let me think."

Alfons: "Kiss me, right here."

~~Part 2~~

Alfons: "Kiss me, right here."

He tapped his cheek with his finger, then put me on his shoulder and leaned against the railing.

Clearly having no intention of moving on until I complied with his request.

Alfons: "I suggest you don't dilly-dally."

Alfons: "Though I don't mind it myself..."

Kate: "Seriously, stop messing with me..."

With a scowl on my face, I straightened up and leaned towards his cheek.

Alfons: "Even your angry face is cute."

Kate: "Ugh...."

(Argh, why am I feeling excited all of a sudden)

(He says that to everyone; same with his kisses)

(There's no point in feeling self-conscious about it...)

That's what I thought... yet the prospect of kissing this outrageous guy...

was strangely thrilling.

I gave him a peck on the cheek and quickly pulled back.

Alfons: "...you're so adorable when you kiss me with that troubled look on your face."

His lips lightly touched my forehead as if returning the favour.

This unexpectedly sweet kiss caught me off guard and left me confused.

It did not feel like I was being toyed with, but rather... being cherished. It was strange.

(There are most certainly no feelings behind that kiss)

Alfons: "... What's with that look? Would you like more?"

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "... What's with that look? Would you like more?"

Kate: "Huh? No way..."

Alfons: "I see, that's too bad."

I quickly backed away, and Alfons gently put me into his breast pocket.

Kate: "Evening hasn't come yet, so don't get ahead of yourself."

Alfons: "I'm not. This was just a thank you for your encouragement."

Kate: "...... fine, just please hurry up to the castle."

Alfons: "Yes, yes, as you wish."

(I'm already being swayed by him...)

I tried to ignore the fact that... I did not mind it in the slightest.

~~~

Roger's eyes widened a little when he saw us coming back with the drug.

Roger: "It's rare for Al to just get the job done like that."

Kate: "Huh? You thought he wouldn't do it?"

Roger: "Uh-huh. Frankly, I was certain I wouldn't see him until morning."

Kate: "And yet you sent us there..."

Roger: "Well, if you brought it, then great, if not, I'd just go get it myself like I originally planned, right?"

Alfons: "That's the kind of man he is, Kate. He doesn't care about other people's feelings, only thinking about his own convenience."

Kate: "...... you do hate Roger after all?"

Alfons: "Nah, certainly not?"

Roger: "So you do like me then?"

Alfons: "Not hating doesn't equal liking."

Kate: "Anyway, now we have all the ingredients for the medicine...?"

Roger: "Yeah, and the results I've been waiting for show promise as well. All we have to do is to mix this stuff."

Kate: "Will this help me get back to normal...?"

Roger: "It might. In theory, it should counteract the effects of the drug you took."

Kate: "I'm just grateful for this chance!"

Alfons: "It's almost like a human experiment, isn't it? You never know until you try."

Roger: "That's right. The final decision whether to drink it or not is up to you, young lady."

--- When the medicine was ready, I gulped it in one go.

~~Part 4~~

Alfons: "Please come out, Kate. No need to hide."

Kate: "... When you said 'tonight', what time exactly did you have in mind....?"

Alfons: "Ah-ha! It's the time after the sun sets. Don't be a bad sport and try to wiggle out of our deal."

(Urrgh...)

In the end, my body was still not back to normal, the sky was already tinted the colour of night, and the moon was shining brightly.

I ducked behind the typewriter to hide from Alfons and was struck by another bout of dizziness.

(What if the medicine has no effect, neither tonight, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow...?)

(What if the effects of the drug were irreversible and I really stayed like this for the rest of my life...?)

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like crying.

Alfons: "...... you're thinking about it again, don't you?"

Alfons: "Come now, it's futile. Just show yourself and let's do something fun."

As I hesitated, I heard a rattling noise, followed by sudden silence.

Kate: "Alfons...?"

--- there was no reply.

After waiting a few moments without hearing any sounds, I became more restless.

When I quietly emerged from my hiding place... I found Alfons slumped over the desk.

Kate: "...ah, Alfons?"

Kate: "S-stop messing around and get up, please..."

--- nothing.

(No doubt this is a trap to lure me out...)

Kate: "Alfons..."

(......still)

(What if he really collapsed from some kind of seizure ---?)

Kate: "Hey, is anyone out there...!?"

Even when I screamed, the sound my little body made was too quiet to reach other rooms.

(I should go get help. Roger might still be in the basement...)

I looked down at the floor. It wasn't going to be easy trying to get down having the body of a little kitten.

If I fell down, in the worst case scenario I would die. Serious injury was a given.

(However...I had no other choice)

Kate: "I need to get help..."

(It seems the best way to climb down is using Alfons)

Kate: "Pardon me."

I climbed up his arm towards the shoulder, then slowly slid down his tie.

Until my foot got caught in the tie pin ---

The pin fell out and the tie swayed dangerously.

Kate: "Waah...!"

(I'm going to fall ---!)

I instinctively grabbed it, but my tiny hands couldn't get a hold --

As I braced myself for impact, something suddenly wrapped around my body.

Alfons: "......I didn't expect you to actually try to get help."

~~Part 5~~

As I braced myself for impact, something suddenly wrapped around my body.

Alfons: "......I didn't expect you to actually try to get help."

Kate: "Huh...?"

I opened my eyes with a wince and saw grey eyes looking down at me in astonishment.

Alfons: "You really are so ridiculously selfless."

Kate: "Alfons...!?"

Before I managed to register being caught by Alfons' hand, I was already gently placed back on the desk.

Kate: "Are you all right...?"

Alfons: "Yes, of course. It was an act."

Kate: "You were pretending...!?"

Alfons: "I was curious if you would actually try to help me if I collapsed, considering your size."

Blood rushed to my face when a black-gloved finger poked the top of my head.

Kate: "T-that's horrible...! You have no respect for people's feelings...!"

Alfons: "Yes, feel free to curse at me. It's an appropriate punishment for doubting your sincerity."

(Seriously, this guy...!)

I felt a mixture of anger and relief, which ultimately made me bite my tongue and say nothing in return.

Alfons muttered whilst looking at me.

Alfons: "...... As expected, it doesn't really matter what your body looks like, Kate."

Kate: "What...?"

Alfons: "Whether big or small, you are still you."

Alfons: "Even though you're easily hurt, you're so foolishly honest."

The unexpected sincerity in his eyes took away all the conflicting emotions I had felt just a moment earlier.

Seeing that smile made my chest tighten, and the pang of loneliness I felt was akin to the one experienced when staring at a distant star.

(Why are you looking at me like that......?)

Alfons: "Yes, you're so foolishly honest, and..."

Alfons: "You love to feel good."

Kate: "Ah......!?"

His fingertips traced my body.

Alfons had a cheerful smile on his face; no trace of the vulnerability he had shown just a moment earlier.

(I have a bad feeling about this...)

Alfons: "A deal is a deal, and now I'm going to do whatever I want with you."

Kate: "Wha...."

The hands of the clock pointed to 10 pm.

--- There was no indication that my body was going to return to normal.

Epilogue

[fallingfadingdeepest]

Such a good dick dumb girl <3 you should play with your tits while repeating that a few times, thinking about how there's someone edging to your tits right now while you do

im a dick dumb doll

im a dick dumb doll

I’m a dick dum dolll

I

M a dick dumm dilly

Umm a dick dum dolly

[missrommydolly]

♡~Rommy dolly loves you~♡

Yandere oc x gender neutral reader

Silly facts about rommy dolly below :3

♡_the raggedy doll will make sure her appearance is 10/10 perfect when she sees you. She looks so soft and she smells like cotton candy! Dont you wanna hug her?

♡_if rommy gets the courage to flirt with you she will say the most corny lines EVER!

♡_she would totally go all giddy and flustered when she notices your presence

♡_your number one fan, she hypes you up in everything you do

♡_she writes poems inspired by you, but she gets really nervous by the thought of you not liking them so she just decides to keep them to herself

♡_she totally has a small shrine of your missing stuff

♡_girlfailure, big pink loser, is not smooth at all when flirting. She showers you with compliments but cant flirt to save her life

♡_huge simp, always doing what you want

♡_probably delusional. She would think that you being kind means that you feel the same way

♡_you sometimes do find weird how the pink doll seems to know very specific stuff about you, but you shrug it off. After all, rommy has always been the one remember important stuff. If you ask her she will tell you the exact hours, minutes and seconds since the day you meet her

♡_your friends do comment about rommy having a weird behavior, but shes just shy! She doesnt mean any harm. What can a small raggedy doll do?

♡_your other friends do seem more busy lately, thats odd. But anywho! Rommy will gladly accompany you anywhere!

♡_rommy dolly will be at your side, forever

.

.

.

.

Of course i am your girlfriend, silly dilly! Isnt that the whole reason you are reading this on tumblr? You are so funny, my angel! Lets keep having fun together :)

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (78)

Hilarius: So. . . How’s it been-

Wovey: Pie?🥺

Hilarius: Too expensive.

Wovey: But you’re rich!

Hilarius: I wish.

Wovey: Useless.

Hilarius: I’m not-

Wovey: Loser.

Hilarius: Wovey, that’s mean!😭

Wovey: Reaper told me to say that.

Hilarius: Reaper the farmer?!

Reaper: I did not!

Wovey: He also taught me a lot of swear words last night.

Reaper: She’s clearly lying! I’m a decent older brother!

Dill: Doubt.

Reaper: Shut up, Dill!

Bobbin: Reaper, how could you?! She’s just a kid, you farmer!

Reaper: It was Brandy!

Brandy: *jumps out of nowhere* Yes! It was I! Brandy Sharp Candy!

Reaper: See!

Brandy: Now give me your ugly ass shoes, farmer!

Reaper: Ew. Get away from me.

Brandy: Give. Shoes. Now.

Reaper: Be gone, werewolf!

Brandy: *turns to Hilarius* Yo, funny man, toss me your shiny clown shoes right now!

Hilarius: Are you going to bite, chew, and eat them?

Brandy: Duh.

Hilarius: No.

Brandy: Coward!

Hilarius: I’m not-

Brandy: A disowned crybaby clown!

Hilarius: Class Pres! Class Pres, Brandy is bullying me again!😭

Felix: That’s not my problem.

Hilarius: Felix Ravinstill!

Felix: I’m busy!

Hilarius: No, you’re not!

Felix: Yes, I am.

Hilarius: You’re literally playing UNO with Coryo, Seji Pie, Panlo, Dill, and Birdy!

Lucy Gray: *randomly slams a card on the floor* UNO! I win again!

Panlo: What?! How?!

Lucy Gray: I’m the best.😌

Dill: You’re the worst.

Lucy Gray: Pay up, Dilly Doll!

Dill: Heck, no! You were cheating!

Lucy Gray: Oh, was I?😏

Sejanus: Dill’s right. You keep hiding your cards under your dress.

Lucy Gray: Jealous?

Sejanus: No, I’m not single.

Dill: Burn.

Lucy Gray: How dare you say that to the Amazing Lucy Gray?!😡

Sejanus: Coryo and I are married!

Coryo: We’re engaged.

Lucy Gray: Oh, yeah?! Panini Panlo and I are getting married too!

Panlo: Heck no!

Sejanus: When?

Lucy Gray: After the games!

Panlo: Ew. No.

Lucy Gray: We’re getting married~❤️

Panlo: We’re practically strangers!

Lucy Gray: No, we’re not.😊

Panlo: *stands up and shouts at the cameras* I don’t know her!!!

Lucy Gray: See! My Pablo loves me!

Panlo: Over my stale bread!

Lucy Gray: Pablo, kiss me!😘

Panlo: I’m not kissing a bird!

Lucy Gray: I can sing.

Panlo: That’s irrelevant!

Lucy Gray: I’m a rainbow baby.

Dill: Baird, shut up. You’re not even that special.

Lucy Gray: That’s incorrect.😌💅

Dill: You’re incorrect.

Lucy Gray: I’m Covey.

Dill: That doesn’t make sense.

Felix: What’s a Covey?

Coryo: Forest hippies.

Felix: Oh, that explains a lot.

Lucy Gray: I’m the special one, you hear! I’m the singing rainbow bird! I’m the Amazing Lucy Gray Baird!

Reaper: Amazing my ass.🙄

Lucy Gray: And I can fly!

Panlo: Oh, I really wish you can, Baird.

Lucy Gray: Can what?

Panlo: Fly like a bird.

Lucy Gray: Oh, Pablo, you’re so sweet and romantic!🥰

Panlo: I really really wish you can fly far far away from me.

Reaper: I concur.

Lucy Gray: Pablo, why?!😭

Dill: I hope my District sees this.

Hilarius: Don’t worry, Dilly Doll. I’m recording this.

Dill: Nice.

Lucy Gray: I can talk to trees too!

Reaper: That’s not special. Lamina and lumberjack can do that.

Lamina: I can?!

Reaper: That was a joke.

Lamina: I can’t?! *starts crying*

Lucy Gray: I- I can also summon a flock of fat flamingos!

Reaper: Then do it!

Lucy Gray: I’m tired.

Reaper: That’s what I thought.

Lucy Gray: I- I- Well, you’re just a weird loser looking farmer!

Reaper: F*ck you!

Coryo: *slams a wild card* UNO! I win! I win! Snow lands on top!

Sejanus: Oh, my love, my Snow Angel, you’re the best!

Coryo: Of course I am, Babe.

Sejanus: Kiss?😘

Coryo: Later.

Sejanus: 50 bucks. *waves money*

Coryo: Kiss me, my love!😍

Sejanus: Yey! *makes out with Coryo in front of everyone*

Dill: Ugh. Here we go again.

Felix: *sighs* Can’t we just play UNO like normal people?

Reaper: Normal people?! Where?!

Hilarius: Can’t you guys just give poor precious Hilari some pie money already?!😭

Coryo: Precious?

Felix: Pie money?

Wovey: My money.

Hilarius: Anything for Wovey!

Wovey: That’s right!

Bobbin: That’s not fair.

Felix: What’s not fair?

Bobbin: Why does “sweet” little Wovey have her own Capitol servant and pie money maker henchman?

Felix: So? You literally have the best jar of Capitol pickles-

Bobbin: But where’s my henchman?!

Everyone:. . .

Bobbin: *Aggressively looks at the cameras* Where’s my pie money?! Give me my pie money!

Felix: Ask Juno!

Bobbin: Over my dead body.

Wovey: No pie, you die.

Hilarius: Seji? Seji Pie?

Sejanus: *is still busy waving his money and making out with Coryo*

Hilarius: Mr. Plinth!

Sejanus: *throws a rock bun at Hilarius* You’re dead to me.

Hilarius: Coryo?

Coryo: I’m poor.

Hilarius: Pablo?🥺

Panlo: I’m just a sandwich maker.

Brandy: *hugs Panlo’s leg* Shoes! I want your fancy shoes, Pan Pan!

Panlo: Get off me, werewolf!

Brandy: Never! *hugs both legs*

Panlo: Ask Reaper!

Brandy: He’s a farmer!

Panlo: So?

Brandy: He’s also mean and weird.

Lucy Gray: That’s right!

Reaper: I hate you.

Lucy Gray: I love me too.☺️

[pyre-screamo]

MAY SHOWS

5/9 @ The Palace PHL with Kiande Amedha, Zmar, and Nuvolascura

5/17 @ Saltys Bar NJ with Mt. Ida, Omega Glory, Kirkby Kiss, and Respirator

5/22 @ Clownhouse NJ with Quickclot, Final Resting Pose, and Halo Bite

5/23 @ Eurekas BK with A Forever Goodbye, Somber, Twoboyskissing, and Ennui

5/24 @ Cowboy Rodeo Ranch RI with Mt. Ida, Epicede, Toldnottoworry, and Twoboyskissing

5/25 Dilly Dally 1.5 @ Ukie Club PHL with Locktender, Powertrash, Mt. Ida, Ultra Deluxe, Sonagi, Catalyst, and Ostraca

5/29 @ Cinco De Mayo NB with Ted Williams, and Opposition Dolls (flyer and details soon)

Sorry tumblr wouldn't let me upload all the full flyers and details so check our Instagram or just ask for details lol. See u there :3

[junespriince]

Rating the inside jokes and things we've said out of context I have with Nebby ( @nebulous-shatin )

"so, do you agree." -100/10 BECAUSE MY LOYALTY IS TAKEN FOR GRANTED AND I FALL FOR IT EVERY SINGLE TIME I HATE IT RHDHDHDB NEBBY OS WRONG!

Bargain bin boy💕 8/10, I love him and his atrocious fits

Praise oia, 100/10, oia is life, oia is love.

Praise the Eldridge god upon Nebby's wardrobe, 10/10 bless neb sib for that duck too since it neb sib's duck lol will ask neb sib once there is I can hold it once, just once

Oh it grandpa! 4/10 BECAUSE I DON'T SEE GRAMPA AS OFTEN IT'S A CRIME!!!!

Thoughts? And prayers. 1/10, Nebby made me better at giving feedback BUT AT WHAT COST (tho 'FEEDBACK!? 😭" meme 10/10)

You slug! ∞/10 I was already obsessed with slugs and neb unlocked my true potential, I wouldn't be Sluggy wouldn't Nebby, most importantly timeline stuff

Vc? 8/10, I mean I get she too lazy to type shit because same and I love Nebby voice, it's very soothing for me!

Knee caps, now. 10/10 Nebby lost that one knee cap privileges.

Huggles, 9/10, Nebby just A HATER EXCUSE THIS IS PEAK WORD SMASHING.

Ew, German. -5/10, that's me being a hater but learning German is hard okay, I barely speak English well tf

*us shit talking so badly people ask are we actually fighting* 10/10, we just get bored, and being little shits it funny, if we finally have that real fight please let it be over something stupid it be so funny.

I want to strangle you 3/10, I told you I suck at platforms and you choose a platform puzzle game, that's on you lol

Horny jail 2/10, LISTEN NOT MY FAULT OKAY I LOVE 2D PEOPLE IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU

Found through birdflash, was writing about drawing birdflash, knew I love birdflash, sends her oc Dilly "Hi. Im nervous as it is." 200/10, that never be so funny to me and it branded on my brain, I ain't even written out the entire message but it up here.

Dragging me everywhere like a doll, 6/10 but I don't mind I follow Nebby to the end of the earth because why not.

Where was we? 1/10, our brain mush, we so forgetful

Peepaw and knight doomed old man yoai divorce arc, 8/10, was a funny moment playing with Nebby

I liked bullying him 10/10 Nebby gets me and my love for Cove

"I'll miss you're cute voice" 1/10 SHUT THE FUCK UP OH MY GOD I HATE UUUUUU NOBODY LOOK AT ME

Starlight, 8/10 nickname, I gotta bring it back the og nickname

Nebby, 9,000/10, just,,, don't take a drink every time I say Nebby you will die for alcohol poisoning

German goddess, 7/10, just when she use our shared brain cells to help me it is praise thee, but never used outside of joking.

Flirt 10/10 def Wally's favorite.

Ally, 9/10, shorting of my name! I adore!!

Lovebug 10/10, I is her bug, I bug her, and she loves me

Want to read that I got so far? 10/10, any fans for Nebby's work starve but I'm fed every single time, bestie privileges, sucks to sucks

Dream Nebby, 1/10 how dare you eat onions on pizza, have a TV in ya bathroom, and saying you don't like your kitty children get out of here evil Nebby,,, YebbN lol

Last one,

The first abomination child, 6/10 he haunts me. Truly worthy of being called a mistake.

I have so much more I'm realizing but I mean that's what you get for talking to someone every single day for 5yrs lol, god five years and it feels like a lifetime I've known ya nebs jeez

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Entertainment for the Masses Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Scene/Chapter: 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 / TBC Character: Alastor the Radio Demon Tags: Human Alastor, Murder, Description of Corpses, Character Death Summary: Alastor knew he'd made a mistake when he targeted that blond haired, rosy cheeked, paper-white skinned fat cat. He knew he did. He just hadn't expected that mistake to land him Hell of all places.

Far be it from him to not settle in, however, once the hallucination and drug excuses have worn their welcome. This was merely a bump in the road, a new opportunity to explore. After all, Hell is where his victims ended up--and it was filled with the filthiest filth that had ever lived. He'd not be wanting for Guests here. Not anymore.

Soon, everyone would know the name Alastor. He'd make damn sure of it.

---

Alastor knew he’d made a mistake the minute he attacked that dilly fat cat in the alleyway when he’d left Mimzy’s juice joint. It had only been a few weeks since his last guest at the edge of the bayou, normally he’d have a much longer cooling off period before the itch came back to bite at him. While that cooling off period had certainly gotten shorter the older he’d gotten, the last one not even lasting six months, this was the first time he’d had only weeks before the urge came to him. This time he didn’t even get the slow itch building in the back of his throat, the need to slice into flesh and taste blood on his tongue--instead it came upon him sudden and sharp with want so quick he just acted.

It was impulsive. It was hurried. It was entirely unlike Alastor. One moment he stepped out of Mimzy’s juice joint, pleasantly buzzed and pleasantly sore from a night of raucous dancing, and the next thing he knew was that man and a two by four. He’d moved before he even thought about it--all he saw was blond hair and pale skin and he wanted. He grabbed the two by four, raised it high like a bat, and slammed it straight into the back of that blond head. The stranger collapsed like a rag doll, blood staining the back of his pale hair. Alastor dropped the two by four in silence to drag his latest guest down back alleys and side streets in the dark, alone, hurried. He couldn't be seen. If anyone saw him--

This was not his normal. Alastor prided himself on being methodical. He spent time researching his guests when they caught his eye. He spent time learning their habits, their likes, their dislikes, before he drew them in and struck them down. He’d take his taste, then, and let the alligators have the leftovers. Instead here he was in the middle of the night, shovel in hand, pants soaked to his calves as he dug and dug and dug into moistened earth with a guest he knew nothing about.

It was a mistake. Alastor knew it was a mistake the minute that two by four had struck that blond head, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it. For the first time in nearly a decade of killing, he had the unerring thought that something was wrong with him. He grunted as he pressed the shovel into the moist earth again, through the growing pool of water from the swamp. He was sweating, soaked from the effort.

The blond hadn’t even tasted that good, either. Alastor grimaced past his glasses and grunted as he shoveled a bit of wet earth out of the growing hole. After another, heavy pull of wet earth from the ground Alastor stuck the shovel off to the side and reached for his impromptu guest. The body was wrapped in several trash bags that Alastor had to pry open first before he could wrap his fingers around the flesh proper.

“Tsk,” Alastor hissed to himself as he stared at the remains of his guest. The face was barely a face anymore after the number of times Alastor had hacked at it. It was sloppy. Sloppier than Alastor had been in a long, long while. He’d refined himself, this past decade. This was not refined, but something about this man just made his blood boil and Alastor wasn’t even certain what it was that set him off. It had to be something.

“Perhaps you were a wife beater,” Alastor reached down and hauled the body up with a grunt. His previous guest had been a wife beater. “Perhaps a rapist.” His last rapist had been two years ago. He’d castrated the bastard well before he killed him. “Perhaps,” Alastor grunted and grit his teeth as he took a step toward the hole he’d dug, “you were just Klan.” It’d been a year since he killed one of them, but oh how he had enjoyed his time with his Klan guest. It had ended far, far too soon for his liking.

The sting to Alastor’s pride came from the fact he didn’t know about this one. Normally he’d know them, know their sins, know their crimes. Normally he’d have the time to know his guests before he brought them home. He didn’t have the time with this one. Everything had been far too quick.

He’d seen the man at Mimzy’s. He’d been perfectly polite, there. A complete gentleman. A kind soul. Alastor did not recall seeing anything that truly enraged him in the juice joint. He’d certainly spared the man no thought, even when the blond cheerfully flirted with Mimzy, who flirted back in that wholly Mimzy way she had. The one that meant she intended to take a John home with her and fleece him for what he was worth before she dumped him into the alleyway so drunk and drugged up he couldn’t remember his name.

Yet Mimzy did none of that with the blond--Johnny, Alastor thought, his name was Johnny wasn’t it?--instead he’d left the juice joint not too long before Alastor called it a night himself. Then, the alley, and now, a body. Alastor dropped the mutilated corpse into the water-soaked hole in the earth. It landed with a loud splash, spraying mud and water up against Alastor’s thighs.

“Hmm. This is a problem.” Alastor stared at the corpse where it floated, lightly, in the watery dug grave. He placed his hands on his hips and stared for a long, steady moment at the space. “Normally,” Alastor said to the corpse, “I don’t need to dig so soon after a rain.” Normally the earth was drier, the water of the swamp still within the river and not pressing past its border into the marshlands so deep. Normally he dug shallower graves, unconcerned about passers by finding his guests and recognizing him.

Normally he knew they were scum of the earth. Nothing about this mess was normal, Alastor conceded. All of it was a giant, glaring, mistake. He contemplated how he was going to weigh this man down enough for him to pile the dirt back on. The night air rang with distant howls as Alastor grumbled, “This is your fault,” and turned on heel to find some decently sized rocks.

Alastor spent the next several minutes collecting the heaviest rocks he could carry and dropping them on the corpse in the hole until he couldn’t see the mutilated face anymore as it slipped completely beneath the water. Distant howls were his background music as he worked, the faint sounds of dogs at work, chasing out prey from the woods, followed Alastor as he grabbed the shovel and began to move earth again. He grunted.

“Good riddance to bad eggs,” Alastor grunted as he shoved down with his foot. The spade of his shovel dug into the dirt, and with another grunt the dirt moved with a wet plop into the hole. Mistakes or not, it felt good to be rid of filth. Stressed or not, Alastor felt more and more relaxed as the body was covered up, and up, and up. Soon there would be no more corpse, soon Alastor could return home to a nice, hot shower. He’d burn the clothes in the stove, they were a complete mess and salvageable.

The distant sound of howls were not starting to sound not so distant, and then they went quiet completely. Alastor paused in, hovered over the pile of earth and his shovel. He was frozen as he strained his hearing, tried to listen. It was odd for dogs to grow quiet, when they’d been so vocal earlier. It was odd for dogs to be out in the middle of the night. It wasn’t even hunting season, Alastor thought.

“Someone is hunting illegally...” Alastor tilted his head. He shoved his classes up onto his face, grin twisted faintly with the thought. A guest that hunted illegally could be interesting, perhaps. He tried to hear the dogs, but still heard silence. They must have caught their prey, then.

Except...except. Alastor stared at the half-buried body. Except that there wasn’t the sound of another animal, squealing and equaling in its death throws. Except there wasn’t the sound of the hunter’s riffle as it fired into the night, ending a life early. Except, except--except the heavy, loud crack that rent the air and had Alastor’s head snapping to the side.

Eye-shine, Alastor noted. A low, deep growl reverberated through the small clearing. Eye-shine and bared teeth. Alastor’s breath stilled in his chest. He recognized the shape of a catahoula in the swamp. He recognized the shape of a muzzle, the spotted coat, the bright eyes--the dog had its teeth bared as it growled low, threatening. A second growl joined the first and Alastor’s gaze slid to the other side--a second.

A third.

A fourth.

Alastor swallowed and looked to the hole he dug. He stared at the mutilated face as it floated back up to the surface, defying the dirt and rocks that held it down. He had the bitter, wasteful thought that this was all his fault. Johnny the blond fat cat who made his blood boil, who brought out the bitter, cruelest parts of himself without even trying--this was all his fault.

A dog lunged. Alastor ran. The shot rang out.

Silence.

[slenderofthejoker]

Uhhm hey Wildcard! It’s me again!

Iii have a little question..

- tea anon

A'ight, what is it doll, just spit it the f#$% out instead of dilly dallying.

[jonathanbyersphd]

Yes I will ask about the Jancy kids; favorite hobbies? Career goals? Jopper grandparents?

Bless U Nonny

Ok, so as we know I envision Jancy having two daughters named Jordan and Dylan (mentioned Here here and here and briefly here ) (Also possibly other posts but I can't find them atm)

ANYWAYS,

Jordan Joyce ( aka Jojo or Jordy) is the older daughter, I go back and forth if she's born in September or October either way she's born in 1997. I think she absolutely BEGGED for a younger sibling. Like she went to her first day of pre-k and immediately was like why does everyone have a baby sibling but me. Complained the whole time. Somehow finally got her way (her parents are pushovers and they wanted another baby) and thus she loves her baby sister more than anything.

When I said Nancy said copy/paste I meant it. Like not just looks, the ambitious weird girl thing too. She had a lowkey American Girl Doll obsession as a kid. (Karen did not help) She wants to be a cinematographer or documentarian. She does ballet, gymnastics and martial arts as a kid but only does ballet in her teens so she can have time for her "weird little movies" (and also mischief)

She also really loves reading like her goodreads/storygraph is STACKED. She support the NYC public library like it's no one's business. She also writes an extensive diary that she hides. I don't think she's necessarily the more responsible sibling but she gets away with more. Like no one suspects the quiet sibling (she's the quiet sibling btw) but she's the mastermind behind the cousin hijinks at the Wheeler's Florida timeshare. I think her favorite hobby is people watching in central park btw not in a rude way in an Anthropological study way. She thinks people are SO interesting.

Moving ON

Dylan Elizabeth (aka Dilly but only if you are a Hopper-Byers-Wheeler) , my beautiful beloved weird younger sibling. She's born in April of 2002. She's the loud sibling. She was OBSESSED with ratatouille as a kid. As a teen she stole a rat from the subway and brought it home as a pet. Also did ballet, gymnastics and martial arts as kid but plays soccer as teen.(Jonathan and Nancy are very confused on how they ended up with a soccer player but they never miss a game) She's got those Byers' music obsessed genes and makes Jonathan take her Vinyl digging every Thursday. Subsequently, she introduces him to phoebe bridgers (pharb dad Jonathan real 2 me)

Very into sculpture/performance art. Has been known to take home trash and try to put it in a sculpture or fix it. Plays the drums. She thinks her sister is the coolest person ever and will not be convinced otherwise. This is very much bc Jordan dyed El's dog hot pink once while Dylan was still very impressionable (She was 7, Jordan was 11). Absolute Pinball Wizard but is ONLY good at pinball all other video/arcade games escape her. I think she's not tiktok famous but def has a substantial following.

As far as Jopper as grandparents. Joyce is Nana and Hopper is PopPop OBVIOUSLY. Now, I usually headcanon that they move to upstate NY to be closer to Will & Jonathan in the city but either way. Jordan is the first grandbaby so she's doted on every single minute. Nancy frequently spends family gatherings being like where is my baby. Because Jordan is being passed around like a doll.

I think the girls def get along with Jopper Grandparents better than Wheeler grandparents. Because Karen is constantly putting them in matching outfits and other Karen things. (and Ted's just there in the recliner) Like they have a school break? They're going to Nana and PopPop's. But when they want something financially? They're going to Gigi Karen every time. Not super grandparent related, but family related they never let the Wheeler Boys win ANYTHING. Like the girls are so competitive with their cousins. (The Nancy jumps out) and they will cheat and scheme to get their way.