#keyhole gardens

[sharper-than-a-serpents-tooth]

I want a fic where Athy and Jennette grow up in the Ruby Palace together but I want them to witness all the drinking and the orgies and the murder of the concubines and servants and see how that shapes their relationship

[nathanielmatychuk]

Secret Garden Ai assisted takes on an old drawing I made. https://linktr.ee/nathanielmatychuk

[dragonbleps]

FOUR tomats!!!! 🍅🍅🍅🍅

[a-r-labaere]

Mavigne, Or: A Treatise On The Metaphysics Of Inner Space Travel, And The Kingdom Of Erikaar, Whose Name Is Darkness Made Light, And Further Theological Expositions Thereof

apples and briar

[hayatheauthor]

Can you post something about different kinds of soulmates? The name on the wrist or red strings are nice but a little overused, maybe. Idk. Do you have anything different?

50 Types of Soulmates in Literature

The soulmate trope might feel pretty cliche to most but I love exploring them (great short story material, esp if you want to twist it into horror/thriller/non romance). Thanks for the ask! I hope this list is what you were looking for: 

Fate-Driven Soulmates

1. Shared Dreams – They meet in their dreams every night/[idea] after they turn [age].

2. Reincarnation– They reincarnate in every era and are destined to meet each time.

3. Aura Bonds – Their auras [change] when they’re near each other.

4. Mirror Messages – They see the other’s face in the mirror when they turn [age].

5. Starbound – Their soulmate’s birth constellation forms on them after their first meeting.

6. Heartbeat Match – Their pulses sync when they meet and get more uneven when they’re apart after that.

7. Shared Memories – They have flashbacks of past lives together.

8. The First Words – Their first spoken words to each other are tattooed on their skin.

9. Fragrance – They recognise each other by a unique scent only one’s soulmate carries (i.e. in the world you can only smell roses on your soulmate).

10. Scars – They have matching scars in the same place since their birth.

11. Colour - They only start seeing colour after meeting their soulmate. Can be changed to sound, touch, smell, etc.

Cultural Soulmates

12. Mehndi Marks - In Indian/Middle Eastern cultures, your soulmate’s name appears in your mehndi/henna.

13. Karmic Threads - In Buddhist traditions, invisible karmic bonds pull them toward one another.

14. Feng Shui Alignment – Their energies perfectly balance according to the Feng Shui elements.

15. Ancestor's Blessing – Their names are revealed through a ritual that summons past ancestors.

16. Name in Flames – In some folk traditions, a fire ceremony reveals their soulmate’s initials in the embers.

17. Feather Match – They exchange feathers that later glow when their soulmate is near.

18. Shared Songlines – In Aboriginal traditions, their paths align on the same Songline.

19. Palm Reading Prophecy – Their soulmate’s features or initials are foretold in their palm lines.

20. Dance of Fate – In certain cultures, a soulmate is revealed during a traditional dance when they naturally pair up.

21. Persian Tea Leaves – Their names appear during tea-reading rituals.

Object-Based Soulmates

22. Lock and Key – Everyone is born with a keyhole shape. When you turn [age] you’re blessed with a key that only fits into your soulmate.

23. Shared Journal – They write in the same journal without knowing how.

24. Twin Trinkets – When born, each person receives a magical [trinket]. Your soulmate has its twin. 

25. Compass of Love – A compass always points them toward their soulmate.

26. Two Halves – They carry two halves of the same [object].

27. Enchanted Maps – A map updates itself with their location when they’re near.

28. Eternal Rings – Rings burn hot or glow when their soulmate is close.

29. Song – When they turn [age] they hear a song sung in their soulmate’s voice. (Interesting: in this world, MC hears nothing. They think they don’t have one, rly their soulmate is just mute). 

Connection Through Nature

30. Tree of Life – Their world has a special garden you go to when you’re [age]. In the garden, a tree starts to grow when two soulmates are near. Note: if they ‘break up’ or one dies, the tree wilts and dies too.  

31. Blooming Flowers – When your soulmate is born, you get a flower bud [different for each]. When you meet the first time, this bud goes into full bloom. If you pass without meeting, it dies. This continues till you actually meet, and the flowers finally [fall off?]

32. Animal Guides – At birth you’re assigned a spirit animal who leads you to your soulmate when the time is right. (Ooh maybe your spirit animals are soulmates too OR hmo: they’re enemies! You haven’t met your soulmate yet because your spirit animals are doing everything to keep you [and themselves] apart). 

33. Shifting Shadows – Their shadows always reach toward the other. When you sleep, your shadows break away and meet each other. 

34. Bound by Seasons – They only meet during a specific season each year. Kind of like a Divergent ‘born into a season’ thing. (But what if a Summer and Winter end up being fated? But they can’t survive in each other’s seasons. [omg Tinkerbell] lol). 

35. Ocean Whispers – It’s said if you go to the ocean’s shore and say something there your soulmate will hear it when they go to the shore. (MC’s soulmate hates the ocean. They’ve never been. One day they finally go, and sit for hours as they listen to messages from their soulmate, who apparently lives by the ocean and has been calling to them every night). 

36. Star-Written Names – When you turn [age] only you see a name written in the stars. That’s your soulmate’s name.

Unconventional Soulmate Tropes

37. Memory Keepers – One soulmate is bound to forget each other in each new life, and the other is fated to remember and find them. The other only remembers if and when they meet. 

38. Parallel Lives – They exist in parallel universes but see glimpses of each other via [plot].

39. Shared Illness – They feel each other’s pain, sickness, and recovery.

40. Shared Mortality – They can only die when they’re together.

41. The Final Wish – When you turn [age] you get to make a wish and your soulmate has to fulfil it in order for you to meet.

42. The Sacrificial Lamb – One is destined to save the other through ultimate sacrifice.

43. The Time Loop – They’re stuck in a loop, meeting repeatedly until they get it right.

44. Dual Souls – They share one soul in two bodies, feeling incomplete without the other.

45. The Undying and the Mortal – One reincarnates endlessly, always finding their soulmate, if they fail to find them, their soulmate will not reincarnate and die forever. Except, you don’t know who’s the immortal one. 

46. Time Stopper: Time stops when you’re with your soulmate. It starts again when you’re apart. 

Sense-Based Soulmates

47. Sight: When you close your eyes you can see what they’re seeing. 

48. Warmth: You feel physically cold everytime you’re without your soulmate. Your heart turns colder every year, till when you’re [age] you both die if you haven’t met.  

49. Colour: You can’t see your soulmate’s eye/hair colour till your first meeting. The issue: they don’t know the colour, so often overlook this change. (Many resort to checking a colour chart every day till they see a new colour). 

50. Touch: You can’t feel anything till your soulmate touches you for the first time. Everything simply feels like its weight, not texture. 

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[lady-lani-1707]

"Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever- present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur."

- Margaret Atwood

Sabrina carpenter, let's talk about her.

She's one of many well known pop stars, and a sex symbol of Hollywood and western media, which in turn ends up influencing even developing nations. A child actor into a popsinger who released her new album "Short 'n sweet" which has gripped the charts.

The title obviously alludes to her height, something heavily refrenced by sabrina herself and reinforced through her branding.

This "sexy baby" trope is nothing but a pedophilic fantasy. In her concerts, sabrina will ask, "Have you ever tried *this* one?" And contort her body into a promiscuous pose that reveals her undergarments or even use male dancers to position herself in a manner referencing sex. That's not the concerning part. It's called the "Juno" pose, a movie about a pregnant teenage girl, and she refrences teenage pregnancy as some sort of joking leeway to sexualise herself. Additionally, the first image above is Sabrina carpenter recreating the classic image of Lolita, a young girl lusted after by a grown man.

So clearly 2 things are emphasised.

Her sexual attractiveness.

And her petite and small figure.

As said herself in her improvised catchphrases on her tours :

"I'm full grown, but I look like a niña/ Come put something big in my casita/ Mexico, I think you are bonita!" (February 2024)

Or how about...

"Gardens by the Bay, I wanna go there / Then, I'1l take you somewhere that has no hair / Singapore you're so perfect, it's no fair!" (March 2024)

Notice how both quotes emphasised sabrina looking like a "niña" (meaning little girl) in particular and being hairless.

It seems that in the modern day feminism, adult women co-opt girly femininity as proof of their sexual attractiveness. Adults who are regressing with frilly socks and bows on pigtails and endless aesthics like bimbo/softgirl/tradwife all promoting girlhood from the school girl clothing to the childish attitudes as the perfect woman. Endless girl-math, girl-talk, girl-dinner and plenty more sub categories demeaning women into girls. Using a pedophilic manner of embodying a teenage girl in all their perceived ditzy, naive, high-pitched soft and feminine talk and then turning around and telling us that no - actually that's what's sexually attractive for women to emulate.

Adult women so detached from that humiliating isolating experience of being a teenage girl that they now regress and try sexualise that experience.

On the other hand, young girls are hearing the wrong message. Adults are telling them that sexualising themselves isn't a good thing yet these same adults praise and invest in their favourite celebrities and pop media that all sell a harmful idea. They see sexualised women in media get all the positive reinforcement and have that socially programmed craving for male validation and attention.

Now to young adolescent girls, they want to rush into womanhood. They dress and try to act like the Caricature of a Catty 20, something rich socialite. The rise in sephora teens paying hundreds for makeup and clothes not made for them. Adult women are regressing, and young girls are trying to grow up too fast to be taken seriously for once.

For as much as many adult women feel heartbroken at the statistics of harm and harassment and child sexual abuse young girls face, it seems to be very shallow. They support industries that make girlhood into a hypersexual pedophilic caricature that only leads to harm of real girls.

Of course, they don't want to be girls anymore. They think growing up gives them agency, being taken seriously. I feel so bad for the little girls who grow up and realise... that never ends. That humiliation and demeaning from boys in their classes continues well on as an adult.

If adult women are too busy role-playing as hyperfeminine teenage girls and glorifying girlhood, and teenage girls are oversexuliaing themselves and wanting to escape girlhood for womanhood then WHO is protecting little girls?

It can't be the adult men who are the main consumers of child sexual abuse material and the pimps and groomers and traffickers.

It can't be the government's who don't crack down on female opression worldwide.

It can't even be adult women, who cater to pedophiles and pedophilic men by making themselves seem as petite and feminine and small and girlish as long as they physically can. Never wanting to age or be dare caught bare faced unless they have dozens of surgeries to look as youthful as they can naturally.

No. Nobody cares, it seems. The world seems to revolve and center male fantasies. Money is a the resource used to trade girls around - the real currency and delicacy that unites men from all over the world.

If adult women keep funding and praising idolculture that promotes pedophilia, than those adult women shouldn't call themselves feminists. It's one thing to listen to their songs, but buying merch and renting tickets and keeping that industry well fed is a disservice to all women.

You might say, so I just watch nothing? Do nothing? There's no radical feminist singers, and not everyone fits my viewpoint. Surely it's unrealistic to expect change? That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that if someone cares enough, change happens, and you must give things up.

There's many ways to go about this, for one ignoring celebrities and celebrity culture, you might download their songs so as to not give them money for their work. And just in general, ignore them.

Death of celebrity culture is death to the beauty industry who all promote pedophilic beauty standards and profit off of womens desire to look youthful.

If you can't send money to save young girls, deny money to these celebrities that cater to pedophilic men's wet dreams.

Of course, it's going to be hard. It's feminism

You have to prioritise women and girls safety over fitting in. Ignore celebrities, reject the normalisation of gross pedophilic and misogynistic standards.

And remember, we are NOT the weird ones, everyone else is desensitised because pretty much every main industry benefits from the exploitation of the female people.

My dear sisters, don't worship female celebrities, they pander to pedophiles.

- Lani, your Lady

[xreaderanonaccount]

So Warm and Fluffy

Synopsis: Harbinger men (minus Pucinella) with an S/O who wears their Fatui coat.

Characters: Pierro, Capitone, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe

Tags; Suggestive on Childe

A/N: Gawd, I need more lore on all the harbingers. I need MORE. I also lowkey didn't know what to write for Panatalone, which sucks cause I absolutely love this man.

The party was a bore, you couldn’t help but let out a bored sigh. Pierro seemed to immediately notice this and placed a gentle hand on the bottom of your back.

“Is everything okay my dear?” Pierro whispered into your ear, you leaned against his shoulder and sighed.

“This place is a bore and there’s nothing fun.” Pierro hummed in agreement as he stared distantly towards the crowd. There was a small crowd of aristocrats huddled around you two hoping to earn a favor from the Tsaritsa. You just sighed again before looking at the giant door that beckoned you toward them.

“Dear, I’m going to walk around a bit. Is that okay?” You asked, tilting your head towards him. Pierro closed his eyes and gave a soft nod.

“Make sure you bring a scout.” Pierro sighed as he turned back to a conversation an aristocrat was trying to make. You smiled to yourself before beckoning a nearby scout to follow you. You were very lucky that the party was hosted in one of the many Fatui’s castles, even more lucky that this just so happens to be Pierro’s. You and the scout silently walked down the empty hall, your shoes echoed around before stopping by a familiar door. You smiled as you fished in your pockets, pulling out a small key. You gently placed the key inside the keyhole before turning it. With a soft click the door opened revealing a huge office. You knew this office quite well as this was Pierro’s main office. You walked towards the giant desk smiling as you picked up a small picture of you and Pierro. You gently placed the picture back down before walking around the office. Staring out the window you sighed happily staring down the garden that Pierro planted for you. You were so lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that slowly drifted down, that you didn’t feel the soft click of the door open. You smiled to yourself thinking about the nice stroll you and Pierro took earlier in the morning. You suddenly felt warm, when you felt a soft coat gently placed on your shoulder. 

“You’ll get cold if you stay still like that.” Pierro murmured against your ear, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. His mask slightly biting your skin. You giggled as you turned to face Pierro. 

“Well if I do get cold you’ll somehow keep me warm right?” You smiled as you placed your hand right where his heart lay. Pierro deeply chuckled as he cupped your hand as you planted a soft kiss on your wrist.

“Of course, my dear.” 

Capitano grunted as he attacked the dummies with his giant claymore. You stared unapologetically at Capitano’s abs, muscle, anything your eyes looked around. You sighed dreamily as Capitano's muscles moved and contracted with each swing. You two were in the lobby of Goth Grand Hotel which Lord Regrator generously booked… forever. Capitano swung his claymore, slicing the dummies in half. Capitano huffed and puffed as he circled his shoulders. Loosening the tension in his shoulder. You clapped at Capitano’s display,

“You look so good Darling.” You smiled as you slouched against the plush lobby couch. Capitano gave out a hearty laugh before walking over to get a drink from his cup. 

“Thank you my love.” He laughed as he lifted his helmet slightly for him to wipe his sweat. You hummed as you looked around the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel. It was quite fancy, true to Mondstadt architecture the arcs curved beautifully with etched designs watching over you two. The soft light emitting from the crystal chandelier shone upon you. Your eyes drift before you spot Capitano’s Harbinger coat. He didn’t wear it as Mondstadt’s weather didn’t deemed it cold enough for him to wear it. You traced your hand over the details of the Harbingers coat. Whoever designed it clearly had a good sense of fashion. You smiled as you pulled the heavy coat towards you. Capitano’s smell filled your senses as you took in a deep breath, allowing his scent to fill your lungs. You couldn’t help but sigh as you got comfortable on the lobby couch. You watched Capitano continue his training, his sleeveless turtleneck hug his muscles so well. Capitano swung his claymore making eye contact with you who was snug underneath his harbinger coat.

“Comfortable?” Capitano asked, hoisting his claymore over his shoulder. You nodded as you pulled the black fur close to your face.

“Your jacket is very comfortable.”  You smiled as you adjusted your position, Capitano laughed as he turned back to his dummies.

“Well then I'll ask Pantalone about getting you a custom one." You can hear Capitano smile as he slashed at the nearest dummy. You couldn't help but laugh,

"That would be nice wouldn't it?"

You shivered inside Dottore’s lab. Your lover is a mad man so of course he loves to have his lab ac on in an already really cold nation. You are already wearing thick layers but the cold keeps biting your skin. 

“Can we please turn the heater on?” You asked, but it seemed the question fell on deaf ears. As none of the segments seemed to hear you, they were too busy arguing with something that you couldn’t understand. You frowned slightly as the cold got to you. You got up and started to pace around the lab trying to warm yourself up. It was slightly working if it wasn’t for the fact that every other step you were taking you were bumping into one of the many segments. You always apologize and move out of the way. You did a couple more laps before you were stopped by Omega who just gave a small smile.

“Darling dearest, I believe you’re getting in the way. How about staying in Prime’s office till he returns?” He asked, not even waiting for your answer before guiding you towards Dottore’s office. You tried to protest but it seemed that protest didn’t reach Omega who just opened the office door and gently pushed you in.

“I’ll ask Delta to bring you something to eat, just stay put okay?” Omega gave you a smile before closing the door with a soft click. You sighed in frustration as you waltz around Dottore’s office. It looked off putting for some people, but you thought it was just his weird hobby. The assortment of body parts in jars, taxidermy animals, different types of ruin guards splattered around. It was a mess but a weird organized mess. You walked around his desk sitting down on his plush chair. Still freezing cold, you looked around the office spotting a small closet in the corner. Smiling, you got up and walked towards the door. Maybe Dottore at least will have a lab coat or something for you to wear. Opening the wooden doors, they gave a soft groan as you peered inside. The closet was mainly empty except for one item, his Fatui harbinger coat. You smiled to yourself as you ran your hand through the fabric. It was so soft under your hand, the soft metal clanked against each other as you cupped the teal crystal. You admired the crystal in your hands as it sparkled in the light. You gently took the coat off the hanger and put it on. The warmth instantly engulfs you, along with his scent. You smiled to yourself as you walked back towards his desk chair. You plopped down back on the plush chair, wiggling a bit, getting yourself comfortable on the plush chair. Finally comfortable in the severe cold lab you nuzzled your head against the black fur. The thick winter coat made you instantly feel warm. As you enjoy the deserved warmth you feel your eyes becoming droopy. Sleep lures you in as you close your eyes, the warmth, dottore’s cologne, and the comfort of being close to the segments. It seemed that you lost the battle as sleep took over slouching against the desk chair.

Dottore walked into the lab to the buzzing sounds and movements. He rolled his shoulder as he put on his white lab jacket. Before he could get to his experiment table he was stopped by Delta who handed him a report.

“Here is that report you wanted,” Delta nodded as Dottore took it out of his hands. He flipped through the pages pleased by the results.

“Good, get back to work.” Dottore threw the report back to Delta’s arms, who just nodded. But before he was able to get back to work Delta told him about your state and how cold you were. Dottore rolled his eyes as he knew you would be cold and asked what they did about it. Delta mentioned that you paced around a bit before being put into his office. Dottore was curious about what you had gotten up to in his office. Dismissing Delta, Dottore headed to his office giving soft raps against his own office door. He thought this was silly but he rather you not throw something at him then be startled for a bit. When he didn’t hear a response he opened the door, only to be greeted by you snuggled up in his fatui harbinger coat sleeping on his office chair. Dottore smirked as he walked over to you, watching your sleeping form. Oh how naive you are to let your guard down, if you were anyone else he would have stuck so many different types of needles into you. Draw some blood samples, screw it, why not inject you with a mind altering drug? But lucky for you, you were his darling dearest, and he could never hurt you. He smiled to himself before tilting his mask up just enough for him to plant a kiss on top of your head without it poking your head. With a very rare and out of character soft smile Dottore turned back and headed to work. At least he doesn’t have to hear you complain about the cold.

You and Pantalone walked down Snezhnaya’s greenhouse, a greenhouse that was owned by the Fatui for the public to see ecosystems from different regions. Hand in hand you walked down as you listened to a guide explain each plant from different regions. You smile as you listen to the guide, you would glance back at Pantalone who would always smile at you but you knew for a fact that he was bored out of his mind. He got particularly bored during the Liyue region, you didn’t care, you were just happy to see so much green. Snezhnaya is always cold and has deep shades of blue, so seeing this much green always makes you feel better. You two concluded your tour and were ready to head out, but as soon as you stepped outside the bitter wind blew against your face. You shivered against your already thick jacket, it seemed that the Snezhnaya weather had dipped way below freezing. You breathe into your hands to keep yourself warm, but alas it didn’t work. You stared out on the snow covered streets. Pantalone said that a vehicle should be coming soon but you couldn’t see crap. You felt yourself being pulled gently back inside the greenhouse before having a thick outer layer gently placed on your shoulder. You looked behind to see Pantalone smiling at you, he was wearing his purple inner jacket which seemed to do little to hide Pantalone’s shiver. 

“Pantalone, you’re shivering here.” You tried to protest by removing his Fatui coat off your shoulder but you were stopped as Pantalone placed it back on your shoulders.

“I’ll be fine my lily, your comfort is my utmost priority.” Pantalone smiled as he then turned to one of the workers ``kindly” asking them to bring a heater. Kindly is putting it nicely, more like he was demanding it with a nice tone. You giggled a bit before settling down on a nearby seat. Pantalone turned back to you giving you a rare soft smile that he only gives when you two were completely alone. 

“You look ravenous in my coat dear, I should have the tailor make one to your size.” He smiled as he adjusted the collar. 

“That would be nice,” you smiled as you saw a light shine through the greenhouse's door.

You were rummaging through Childe’s closet, as Teucer wrote a letter missing Childe. So in return you thought it would be really cute to send one of Childe’s dress shirts over, hoping it would keep the young lad at bay. As you rummage through you feel something soft and fluffy brush against your hand. You paused for sec, Childe doesn’t own anything fluffy. He’s normally wearing something semi-fancy or an outfit fit for a warrior. Letting your thoughts get you, you pulled the fluffy object out of the closet. You gave a soft smile as you pulled his formal overcoat out. You brushed against the fabric, you normally only get to see him wearing this during special events. And when those special events happen you normally can’t see him because you’re so far away from the stage to see the harbingers so close. But when you do get a glimpse you understand the girls in Snezhnaya who fawn over the harbingers. Childe looks so handsome in the coat, and looks very warm. 

An idea popped into your head as you walked out of the walk-in closet. You pranced towards the giant mirror that sat in your shared bedroom. Gently putting the outer coat on you were overwhelmed by Childe’s cologne. You smiled as you hugged the coat closer to you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you were engulfed by his coat. The metal charms softly clanked against each other as you gave yourself a little twirl. Smiling to yourself you cuddled yourself into the black fur. It was so soft and warm and reminded you so much of Childe. As you were lost in your thoughts you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You yelped in surprise before you heard a familiar chuckle. 

“You look so cute Zolotse.” You hear Childe mumble against the fur.

“Ajax! You’re home early.” You looked at him in surprise. He smiled as he stared loving at you.

“Yeah, I was able to finish work early and was just too excited to come home.” He laughed a bit before burying his head back into the fur coat. You leaned into Childe’s lean body as you two stayed in that position for a moment. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Pantalone to make a custom jacket for you.” Childe smiled as he picked you up in ease and twirled you around. You two laughed before Childe dropped you two on your soft bed. He was on top of you while you were sprawled against the bed. The Coat slightly hanging on you.

“Ha, you look so cute wearing my clothes. I wonder…” Childe gave a devious smile before you playfully hit his shoulder.

“Take me to dinner first Mr.Fatui Harbinger.” You two laughed as Childe fell on top of you engulfing you in a hug. 

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If you like elegance, this house has it. The 1893 Queen Anne Victorian in Easton, MD has been completely renovated and it's not that gaudy, gold, phony "elegance," it's very classy. 5bds, 6ba, 3,995 sq ft, $1.795m.

It begins on the porch that features draperies and a screened-in area, as well.

Open the front door and there's the beautiful carved stairs and an open living room.

Lovely fireplace, bookcases, and a view of the porch.

Next is a big, sunny dining room.

The screened portion of the front porch. It was a great idea to screen part of it in.

Look at the powder room's beautiful sink and toilet set.

Comfortable less formal family room.

The kitchen is huge and features a built-in dining nook with benches and shelving.

The pantry is equipped with a wine fridge.

Beautiful new black & white kitchen. This is a proper cook's kitchen.

Going up to the bedrooms you can see the delicate carving in the railing and each post has a finial. It's the details that make a home special.

All of the bedrooms are big and bright. This one features a stained glass keyhole window.

All of the baths are newly renovated. This one is a lovely combination of old & new with a pretty vintage tub.

It looks as if each bedroom has its own ensuite.

Double shower with such pretty tile.

This room has a fireplace that looks like it works. What pretty doors.

Very elegant 2nd fl. sun porch.

Another beautiful bath. They're all so pretty and tasteful.

New digital sauna.

The reno included the addition of a walk-in closet/dressing room.

The primary suite has a sitting alcove with a beautiful gothic arch.

Isn't this a wonderful place to sit and read or relax?

I love the brass fixtures in this bath.

If you need a home office, this one is perfect. Love the way the desk faces the window and there's even a built-in banquette big enough for taking a nap.

The patio and gardens are gorgeous. Love the fountain and wrought iron arch.

This is the back of the 1 car garage and a lovely potting shed. My mother has that same shed and I always wanted to move in. It's a great she shed. 8,364 sq ft lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/132-S-Harrison-St-Easton-MD-21601/339235664_zpid/

[lightandfellowship]

I've spoken on this in the past but I love the implications of the Gizmo Shop in Traverse Town and the Castle Chapel in Hollow Bastion, both being churches that seem to have been repurposed during the ongoing Heartless apocalypse.

Like, the implications of turning what appears to be a church based on its facade (it even has a bell on top, notably the thing that reveals Traverse Town's keyhole) into a shop. A commercial building for trading material goods, kinda the opposite of spiritual (depending on your definition anyway). No one in Traverse Town used the church as a church I guess so they were like "screw it, free real estate"? Again during an apocalypse mind you which apparently has lasted like 9 years by the time of KH1's events, so I feel like that says a lot about the trajectory of people's faith during that trying time...maybe a lot of residents just stopped believing in anything after losing so much and seeing no end in sight, eventually leading to the church becoming unused and repurposed. Just. Really cool bit of environmental storytelling there if you choose to believe this was intentional in any way.

Then there's the Castle Chapel in Hollow Bastion which is more clearly canonically a church due to its room name. It's covered in rose, thorn, and raven motifs (an indicaton of Maleficent's influence on the castle—some of these details even vanish once you defeat Dragon Maleficent) and the altar at the end of the room has a big Heartless emblem on it, as if it's the Heartless who are now being worshipped as opposed to...whatever used to be worshipped in Radiant Garden. (There is in fact a species of Emblem Heartless found at the End of the World called "Angel Stars" that have white feathered wings so like...yeah. Angels. The comparison is there. Divine messengers meant to enact God's will or whatever. I can imagine Ansem SoD seeing it that way, mixing religion and scholarship into his Darkness obsession). Real "wanting the world to end and thinking the Heartless apocalypse was meant to happen" vibes at this chapel.

So yeah, these details likely weren't here before the fall of Radiant Garden, it was probably just a normal chapel back when the world was still called Radiant Garden, the Emblem Heartless didn't exist yet, and Maleficent was nowhere in sight. But again, you have this visual of a church losing its original congregation, either due to loss of faith or people escaping a dying world, and then said church being turned into something else. In the Castle Chapel's case, getting twisted to worship something much more sinister.

I think future games, especially KHUX, get a bit more obvious with its religious imagery/symbolism/references/themes, but in KH1 it's definitely there too, and I think that's cool.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Bad Boy and His BabyCakes | Yandere Loki

Yandere Pantheon College AU (2/7) | Master List

The average student—(Y/n) was a crowd favorite. Known for their pure-hearted nature and kind gestures to the faculty and students. Always walking by in the modest version of the uniform they still turned heads. Grades practically perfect and a smile that brought so many to their knees, (Y/n) is a crowd favorite. 

An all-around goody-goody student with not a shred of dislike.

There was one thing others didn’t like about (Y/n); ironically enough it still wasn’t them. It was their boyfriend Loki Laufyson. 

“Oi Oi Oi Oi Would you like for me to split your skull open on this disgusting floor or in the broken toilet?”

Loki Laufyson is the adopted son of one of the educational administrators; part of the elite that had openly made it their mission to take this school and its average students down. Whether it’s out of boredom, hate for the poor, or plans of his own—Loki openly agrees with chasing the Pantheon’s students away. His escapades varied from minor pranks to life-threatening attacks. A shark in the school with no reasonable pattern except for his favorite snack. 

“Honeyboo!”

The cornered student frantically scanned his position, wondering if it was so obvious he’d been attacked. Taking a glance at his fallen companion, they hadn’t gotten up after hearing a sickening crack against the pristine tiles of the boy’s bathroom. The sink was overflowing leading to a growing puddle diluting the blood teeming from his friend’s head and the blood dripping off his attacker’s fist. 

Said attacker’s face twisted as though he’d eaten something sour and the taste had never left. The glare directed at him was like the final etches on a tombstone being engraved. As though it was his fault that he and his friend were so visibly miserable. The pressure from a steel-toed boot on his hand told him it’d be worse if he so much as breathed too loud.

Loki turned to open his arms, “Babycakes!”

Hugging each other while twirling around, the couple looked incredibly cute—even if this reunion was happening in a bloodied and flooded bathroom. 

“I thought you were going to wait for me in the pavilion, Sweetums?”

“I was but I realized how badly I wanted to walk with you near the tulips! They really just remind me of your eyes.”

“Aw, Pookie!”

Hearing their torturer’s voice raise an octave higher was always alarming. In the same way, the pierced elite with a keyhole muscle shirt, with the school uniform hanging off his shoulders was so needily rubbing his face into the chest of the school’s sweetheart. Just as alarming was the way Loki let anyone survive after being interrupted but that was the effect that only his beloved partner could have.

Already the apple of everyone’s eyes for two different reasons the staff and student body bowed to their whims. On the account that (Y/n)’s tears were a reason worthy enough to cut classes and that Loki’s wrath would leave dorm buildings going up in flames.

“Come on Loki-baby,” (Y/n) spoke in a whiny pleading tone that would’ve had the opposite effect on others. But the intense blush on Loki’s face said that was not the case; practically purring at the fingers threading through his green locks. 

“How about we leave for the garden,” a flash of (Y/n)’s sympathetic gaze relieved the cowering student for a second. “I think these two have suffered enough.”

Loki doesn’t turn toward them only holding his partner above the flooded floor. He lets out an annoyed growl, as though he wished to continue his massacre. He relents smiling widely as he tosses (Y/n) up high before catching them again to skip out of the bathroom.

“Okay, baby let’s go then!”

“Yay!”

The couple is already out the door and the remaining students are a little bit closer to survival. But Loki wouldn’t allow their peace to come easy, flashing a malevolent smile over his shoulder.

Granted his attention was quickly turned back to his partner to receive a multitude of loving pecks.

Melting in seconds the students are thankful that the Pantheon’s Bad Boy happens to have his favorite drug. And until he can properly control it he can’t have the college shutting down at least not yet. 

Noy while his babycakes is so eager to attend.

But if he’s not destroying the school he’ll have to settle for the average students.  

[adventuresofalgy]

On the night before the big storm, a strange and eerie calm had fallen over the wild west Highlands of Scotland. For most of the evening there was no rain, no wind, and very little sound of any kind, but occasionally, without warning, there were strange, brief showers, light but insistent, which only lasted for a few minutes, then stopped as abruptly as they had started.

Algy felt that it was all rather unnerving, especially considering the ferocity of the winds that were forecast to hit the area in little more than a few hours' time. But a fluffy bird is rarely daunted, as his friends may have observed in the past, and so, as darkness fell, he simply sought out the most sheltered corner of his assistants' garden, in a spot where there was no risk of any tree falling upon him, and tucked himself well under the canopy of a very pretty fern, beside a substantial mass of ivy which had grown over the years to completely smother an old, low wall.

Algy was reassured by the thought that if the storm became too fierce he could withdraw further behind the dense ivy curtain, where he would be completely protected, but it was dark and dank in there, and so for the moment Algy rested on a wee pile of dead leaves and twigs at the entrance to his ad hoc refuge, and watched the waning moon rise low over the hill. As he began to doze, he recited sleepily to himself:

The glass has been falling all the afternoon, And knowing better than the instrument What winds are walking overhead, what zone Of grey unrest is moving across the land, I leave the book upon a pillowed chair And walk from window to closed window, watching Boughs strain against the sky And think again, as often when the air Moves inward toward a silent core of waiting, How with a single purpose time has traveled By secret currents of the undiscerned Into this polar realm. Weather abroad And weather in the heart alike come on Regardless of prediction. Between foreseeing and averting change Lies all the mastery of elements Which clocks and weatherglasses cannot alter. Time in the hand is not control of time, Nor shattered fragments of an instrument A proof against the wind; the wind will rise, We can only close the shutters. I draw the curtains as the sky goes black And set a match to candles sheathed in glass Against the keyhole draught, the insistent whine Of weather through the unsealed aperture. This is our sole defense against the season; These are the things we have learned to do Who live in troubled regions.

[Algy is quoting the poem Storm Warnings by the 20th century American writer Adrienne Rich.]

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 2

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Toji x Snow White Here!

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Read Higuruma x Little Mermaid Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You slam the shutters closed and back away from the window. Already you’ve begun trembling from the cold, and despite the shackle on your ankle, you’re irrationally afraid of falling out the window. 

The chain on the shackle clinks as you move, and you follow it back to see what it’s connected to. Under the straw mattress, you find a great metal hook where the end of the chain is fastened. You pull at it, but there’s no way to get it free. It seems to be built into the hook somehow. 

Changing tactics, you sit down and examine the shackle itself. There’s a small keyhole on the side, and no other way to open it. You pull and jerk, but it doesn’t budge. 

Why would Choso do this? You thought things were going so well. You even fell in love with him. Did he have something like this in mind the whole time? And what does he even plan to do with you?

You run through possibilities in your mind, but nothing makes sense. If he wanted to keep you here for sex, why bother when you slept with him willingly? You make him all the medicines he wants. You spend time with him and even invited him to come visit you. What else could he possibly want from you? 

Just then you notice that your hair has been tied back up into a ponytail. It’s a bit messier than when you do it, but it’s clear that Choso has made an effort. Why would he do something so considerate while doing something as terrible as chaining you up? 

Footsteps echo through the room, and you look toward the door. Someone is coming up the stairs, and unless you’re completely wrong about his brothers being dead, it’s definitely Choso. 

You feel a surge of panic. Whatever he wants from you, it can’t be good if he’s taken you captive. You’re not sure if your heart can handle being hurt by someone you’ve come to love, someone you were so intimate with just before you were knocked out. 

The door opens, and Choso is on the other side, holding a plate of food. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there in the middle of the room.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, relief in his voice. He steps inside and sits the plate on the dresser. “I brought dinner just in case, but I was worried you’d still be asleep. That sleep medicine you made is more potent than I thought. Or maybe I used too much. It’s been two days.”

Two days?! You’d guessed around twelve hours! But this is no time to be shocked into silence. 

“Why have you taken me prisoner?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even and calm. Losing your cool will be no help at all. 

He blinks. “Prisoner? No, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m keeping you safe. After the threat is gone, I’ll take you home.”

“The threat? You mean the wolves?” How could he possibly rid the forest of wolves single handedly? Or is this just a way for him to keep you here indefinitely? 

“Yes, the wolves,” he replies, seemingly oblivious to how ridiculous that sounds. “Well, that particular pack of wolves. I’ll hunt them down and kill them all, so they won’t ever hurt you again.”

You step closer to him. “Choso, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine! The wolves are less active during the day, so just escort me home now while the sun is still up, and-“

“No!” he shouts, making you flinch and step back. His face then softens immediately, as if your reaction pained him. “I’m sorry for yelling, but I can’t let you leave until I know you’ll be safe. I promise I’ll take care of you, so don’t worry!”

“Choso-“

“I’ll cook meals for you every day,” he continues, cutting you off. “You like my cooking, right? I went to the village yesterday and bought you a couple of dresses to wear, and some books to read so you won’t be bored!”

“Please, Choso, listen to me,” you say, approaching him again. “I know you mean well, and you’re trying to look out for me, but this isn’t the way to do it. I need to go home. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

This time he takes a step back. “I’ll take you home as soon as I kill the wolves. It won’t take too long, but I can’t let you go before then. Those wolves are bloodthirsty, and they’re not afraid to attack humans.”

You stare at him for a moment, wondering if you should say the words bubbling up in your mouth. Since he’s taken things this far, you decide to stop dancing around the topic and ask, “Is that what happened to your brothers?”

His face goes blank, his eyes looking eerily empty as he says, “What are you talking about? My brothers are downstairs playing.”

For that brief moment, Choso frightens you to your core. For that one solitary moment, you believe he’s capable of anything. 

You feel your eyes becoming wet. “Choso, I’m more afraid of you than the wolves right now.”

He looks hurt, reeling back as if he’s been slapped. “Me? But I’d never hurt you! I’m doing all this to protect you!”

“But I don’t want this kind of protection,” you say as calmly as possible. “Don’t you care what I want?”

He wears a conflicted expression, which is a good sign. Maybe you can reach him. He backs up toward the door. “Of course I care, but I care more about keeping you safe,” he says as he opens the door and steps out. “Please eat. I’ll come check on you a little later.” Then the door closes. 

You stand there for a while, listening to his footsteps carrying him down the stairs. Once he sounds far enough away, you go over to the dresser and pick up the plate. Your gut reaction is to smash it on the floor, but starving yourself will get you nowhere. It might even end with Choso forcing food down your throat. 

No, the best idea is to appeal to Choso’s care for you. He’s clearly been driven mad by grief over his brothers, and it’s impossible to tell what he’d do when pushed into a corner. 

But the worst part is that, despite what he’s doing, you still feel love for Choso. He seems to sincerely believe he’s protecting you. 

For now, you decide to bide your time and try talking some sense into him. 

Later that evening, Choso returns to the top of the tower. When he opens the door and steps into the room, you gasp at the sight of him. 

His clothes are torn, there are bloody scratches all over him, and he’s carrying a heavy-looking wool sack. 

You quickly get to your feet and hurry over, but the chain prevents you from reaching him. He’s just inside the door, barely out of your reach. You extend one hand toward him. “Choso, what happened?!” No matter what he’s done, you still can’t bear to see him hurt. 

Choso looks at her with an anguished expression when he realizes she’s trying to come to him but can’t, because of the shackle he placed on her ankle. He takes the ten steps needed to be close enough for her to touch him, sighing in relief when her soft hands touch his shoulders. 

“I’m alright,” he tells her, shifting the bag to one arm. “More importantly, I brought you a gift.”

She looks skeptical. Of course she does. He’s well aware that she’s unhappy with this situation. He doesn’t like making her unhappy, but he knows she’ll understand after she’s here for a while with him. Eventually she’ll come to like being kept safe and pampered here. 

He opens the bag and dumps out the contents on the floor in front of her. Two gifts that will surely prove his devotion to her. Two bloody, mangled wolf carcasses. 

She doesn’t scream, but instead makes a strange little cry of alarm, barely above a whisper, as she steps back, one hand closed over her mouth. 

“Don’t you recognize them?” he asks, squatting down to hold one of them up. “These are two of the wolves that attacked you. There’s only four more.”

She looks horrified as her lovely eyes take in the dead wolves, then shift to his face. “You killed them yourself?”

Choso smiles, feeling proud. “Yes, with a hatchet! It was fairly easy to take a couple down once I drove the pack to separate, then I-“

He notices she’s crying, and it makes the words dry up in his mouth. She looks aghast. 

“Please don’t do something like this again!” she cries. “Think about what would happen if you’re killed by the wolves! I’d be trapped here alone, with no food or water!”

Choso’s heart nearly stops when he hears her words. How could he have been so careless? He put her at risk! “I’m sorry!” he says, dropping to his knees beside the wolves. “I didn’t consider that! I’ll bring extra food and water tomorrow, and I’ll be very careful when I kill the rest of the pack!”

She kneels down in front of him. “Don’t kill the rest of them! Please just stop all this. Wolf attacks are rare. I’m sure it won’t happen again. I’ll forgive you if you let me go home when the sun comes up.”

Her words are logical. They make perfect sense to Choso, but he knows logic isn’t always right. He can’t risk her being attacked again. Standing up, he looks down at her. “After I kill the remaining four, I’ll take you home. I promise. And don’t worry, I’ve killed a bigger pack than this one before. I know what I’m doing.”

She lowers her head in defeat, not even looking up when he places the dead wolves in the bag and leaves the room. 

Back downstairs, he strips off the bloody clothes and cleans up in the small washroom beside the kitchen. There’s a similar washroom upstairs for her to use. He cleaned her body the day before, while she was still sleeping, but he was careful to protect her modesty as best he could and not touch her inappropriately. 

After washing his hair and drying off, Choso pulls on loose fitting black pants and sits near the fireplace to warm up. He can’t help remembering how he made love to her in this very spot only two days earlier. When he’d been fully sheathed inside her, wrapped in her arms, he felt at peace for the first time in years. 

It was almost enough to make him forget. 

After a few minutes, he decides to go up and check on her. He misses the time they spent talking happily together, sharing stories about their lives. He hopes they can go back to that someday. These are his thoughts as he climbs the steps of the tower. 

You’re surprised when you hear footsteps on the stairs again. You didn’t expect Choso to come back again so late, but when he opens the door, he’s standing there in only black pants, no shirt, his hair loose around his shoulders and slightly damp. 

It reminds you that you find him very attractive, and you wish you could just turn that part of your brain off. 

“Ah, sorry if I’m bothering you,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “I think it’s time to change your bandages. Is it alright if I help you?”

You already found a drawer full of supplies in the dresser, but you haven’t changed them yet. To be honest, that’s been the last thing on your mind today. 

You’re not quite sure whether you should accept his help, or anything else. You haven’t even looked at the dresses he bought for you, spending the day in your slip. There’s a coal heater in the room, with a vent built into the wall to prevent smoke buildup, so you haven’t been cold unless you open the window. 

He stands there looking like a lost puppy, and you can’t help yourself. “Alright, you can help me,” you say, sitting on the mattress. 

Looking pleased, he hurries over to the drawer and gathers supplies, then sits down beside you. His hands are nearly shaking as he carefully removes the bandages from your hand and arm. As always, his touches are light and gentle, his fingertips soft on your skin. He continues this process with your other wounds, and it feels so nice and relaxing that your guard drops completely. 

When he’s finished, he starts to stand up, but you place one hand on his arm. “What about you?” you ask him, looking at the numerous shallow cuts and scratches on his firm torso. “Let me help you.”

His eyes widen slightly, a faint dusting of pink on his pale face as he settles back onto the floor and nods. With the same care he demonstrated, you clean and wrap his wounds with bandages, your hands lingering on his abdomen. You wonder if he’s aroused right now, considering the way his breaths are coming quicker and his eyes seem to be darker. 

Do you want him to be aroused? 

You’re not certain what you want. And while you’re still in this vague mindset, Choso softly asks, “May I touch you?”

Slightly dazed by his closeness, you say yes, assuming he plans to embrace you when he moves to be behind you. 

Instead, his warm hand slides under the fabric of your slip, between your legs. You gasp when his fingers gently prod your folds open and find your clit, stroking it until you become wet. 

“You liked it when I touched you here, right?” he says into your ear, and your whole body shivers. 

You shouldn’t let this happen. You should tell him to stop. Being intimate with him again will only make him feel like his behavior is okay. But you’ve been so stressed today, so wound up and worried. And Choso looks so beautiful with his hair down, his fingers feel so good, causing currents of electric pleasure to ripple through you. 

You should stop this, but instead you lean back against him, opening your thighs. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, one of your hands moving to his hair and pulling his face close enough to kiss him. You moan into his mouth as he continues rubbing your clit, your body beginning to quiver. 

Breaking the kiss, you look him in the eyes. “Choso… take me,” you plead, peeling off the slip and leaving yourself nude. 

You don’t have to ask twice. With an urgency bordering on desperation, he pushes you forward, onto your hands and knees on the floor. Within seconds, he’s shoving into you, a short whimpering cry escaping his lips as your warm, slick walls close around him. 

He’s less careful this time, less gentle as he thrusts into you from behind, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer. 

One of his hands slides around to continue stroking your clit, making you sob out a moan. His other hand reaches around your face, where his fingers dip into your open mouth. His thrusts get harder, faster, and the chain connected to your ankle clinks as it rattles. 

Oh god, you’re falling into madness with him. 

When you cum with a great shudder, you inadvertently bite down on his fingers, tasting his blood. He doesn’t even try to withdraw them. 

When he cums, fully inside you, he leans over your shaking form and says into your ear, “I love you so much. I’ll keep you safe… forever!”

The words, sounding sweet at first, snap you back to your senses when you realize what he’s actually saying. 

He intends to keep you captive here for the rest of your life. He’ll never let you go. 

The thought is sobering, and you instantly lose the sense of pleasure you’d just felt. In a moment of weakness, you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

When Choso pulls out, he wraps his arms around you, clearly wanting to be close for a while longer. You pull away from his grasp and say, “I need to go clean up.”

He looks at you as you stand up. “Do you need any help?” he asks, seeming so kind. 

“No, I’m fine,” you say, not meeting his eyes. 

You spend longer in the washroom than you need, hoping he’ll be gone back downstairs when you come back out. Unfortunately, he’s still sitting on the floor when you return. He must have noticed your change in attitude, because he looks worried. 

“Are you upset?” 

You finally look him in the eyes. There are lots of things you want to say, but all of them would probably make this situation worse. No, you need to be smart about this. Making him freak out and be on his guard will be no help to you. 

“I’m just tired,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

He gets to his feet and hovers awkwardly for a little while before heading for the door. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll bring your breakfast.”

“Thanks, Choso,” you tell him, pulling on your slip and sitting down on the mattress. 

He gives you an uneasy smile, then leaves the room. You listen to his footsteps, waiting until you can no longer hear them. 

A plan is already forming in your mind. You’ve realized tonight that you have to escape, and soon. The first step is to get rid of the shackle. Choso locks the door each time he leaves, but there’s a chance he might forget at some point. You need to be ready for that possibility. 

Sitting on the mattress, you bring your shackled ankle close and carefully remove the strips of cloth Choso has tied underneath the metal. Then you grit your teeth and begin yanking on the chain, pulling it harshly against your skin. After several painful minutes, you tie the cloth back around your ankle and slide it under the shackle. 

The next morning, Choso brings your breakfast and sits it on the dresser. He walks over to where you’re sitting and says, “How are you feeling today?”

You look up at him, rubbing your leg absently. “I’m okay. It’s just…”

“Hmm? Is something wrong?”

You extend your leg, the chain clinking. “My ankle hurts.”

He squats down and gently begins untying the cloth. When it falls away, a look of horror spreads across his face. Your ankle is wrapped in deep purple bruises. 

“I’m so sorry!” he says, digging around in his pockets and pulling out a small key. “I thought the cloth would be enough to cushion it!”

He quickly unlocks the shackle, then pulls it away from you. With one hand you rub over it, wincing. “I think it happened last night, when we were together,” you tell him. 

His face reddens. “I never realized it. I’ll leave the shackle off for a while. Maybe you don’t even need it.”

You don’t say anything to that, afraid you might say something that makes him suspicious. 

The day wears on, Choso bringing you meals and even applying a salve to your ankle. He seems happy to see you wearing one of the dresses he bought for you. 

He doesn’t know you’re preparing. 

By nightfall, you stop hearing any sounds whatsoever, and you have no doubt he’s gone to hunt the wolves again. This is the time to act!

You start by checking the door, just in case. As expected, it’s locked up tight. But that’s okay. You have a back up plan. 

It takes you several minutes to unfasten all the loops and ties in your hair, which you’d redone after Choso’s attempt at fixing it back. Once all of it is loose, you begin twisting it around into something resembling a rope. Then you drag the heavy dresser over to the window and tie the end of your hair around one of its legs. 

You open the window and look down, trying to judge the distance. You’ve done this many times already, and you’re still not certain you can reach the bottom. Even if you do, you’ll have to make a horrible decision. 

You’ll have to cut your hair. 

It’s the only way to escape, and you have a small blade that Choso left with the medical supplies, for cutting off strips of bandages. 

You have no choice. Choso will keep you here forever. There will always be more wolves in the forest. The longer you stay here, the harder it will be to escape, the more you’ll grow comfortable with being held captive by him. 

Steeling your nerves and your heart, you open the window and climb onto the ledge. Holding tightly to your hair as if it’s a rope, you begin easing yourself down, keeping your feet on the side of the tower. 

The climb down is terrifying. If your feet should slip, or your hands lose their grip on your hair, you could fall the rest of the way. Depending on how the length of your hair compares to the tower, you could smash into the ground or have your neck snapped if your hair suddenly stops your fall from this height. 

Luckily, it’s too dark to see much when you look down, so you can focus all your attention on your descent. 

It takes longer than you expected. At least twice you hear the sound of wolves howling. Is Choso hunting them now? You hope he’s not hurt, but you also hope he doesn’t come back before you’re gone. 

Finally, you reach the end of your hair, leaving yourself only enough slack to move your head around. You look down, and the ground looks close enough that dropping from here wouldn’t hurt at all. It’s now or never. 

You pull the blade from a pocket in your dress and take a deep breath, then you begin cutting through your hair. Tear fill your eyes as you watch the strands split off from each other. Your hair is sacred, it represents your spirit, but those are just ideas you grew up with. Logically, you know it’s just hair. It will grow back. But it’s still emotional for you. 

Once you’ve cut it free of your head, you extend your arms, holding onto the end of the “ rope”, giving yourself a few more inches, and then you drop. 

The ground rises up to meet you, and your legs quiver when the impact shoots from your feet up to your hips. It hurts, but you don’t think you’ve injured anything. You catch your breath, then run around to the other side of the tower, toward the path you’re familiar with that leads back to the village. You try not to think about your hair, about how it’s barely long enough to cover your ears now. 

When you round the tower, you stop dead in your tracks. 

Just a few feet away from you, Choso is walking toward the tower, a dead wolf thrown across his shoulder. 

[nathanielmatychuk]

What kind of secret is this? Hand drawn on a ReMarkable 2 tablet and then edited in Corel Painter. https://linktr.ee/nathanielmatychuk

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Scrub My Brain With Bleach - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi pays the price for snooping...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

As she moves to go, her foot catches something under the desk. It's a trunk, the wooden surface scuffed by frequent use. But the design's exquisitely ornate. The lid's inset with a mosaic of mother-of-pearl. It depicts a blue-haired sprite in a grove, a green dragonfly cradled in her palms. The motif is repeated in a band around the brass rim, where the dragonflies open and close their wings, their iridescent patterns shimmering as if in flight.

It reminds Vi of the folktales of Janna, passed into her tiny ear by Mom at bedtime. How the dragonflies were Janna's eyes, their luminous wings bearing the sparks of her magic. How they flitted through the old gardens of Oshra Va'Zaun, bestowing the Goddess's favor. How, should the light catch their wings just so, they'd grant a boon on a lucky soul.

And a kiss of fortune, upon their lips.

Jinx, Vi guesses, chose the box for its whimsy as much as its utility. She's plainly taken pains to keep it tidy. Despite the scratches on the varnish, its structure is solid, and its brass lid is freshly gilded. There's a padlock, burnished to a lustrous gleam, and a keyhole in the shape of a dragonfly's thorax. The key itself is a golden cruciform dangling off the chain that seals the lock.

For a moment, Vi wonders if the trunk is, in fact, a trousseau. Jinx hardly seems the type. Her idea of wedding finery would involve explosives more than lingerie—if she bothered to put anything on at all.

And yet the possibility's not as outlandish as it'd been while Vi was knuckling sleep-crumbs from her eyes in the guestroom.

The trunk is clearly a cherished possession. Maybe Jinx keeps her favorite jewelry here. Maybe she's got a cache of special grenades. Maybe she's hiding a skeleton. Or three.

Maybe Vi's a nosy, meddling shit.

But she can't help it. The trunk's so much like the hope-chest in Caitlyn's attic. Hers was a varnished lilac beauty, lined in rose-petal velvet, and neatly packed with sentimental relics. Her grandfather's bifocals. A pearl brooch from her mother's wedding day. Her father's favorite stethoscope.

And a threadbare pair of Vi's hand-wraps folded around a wispy strip of Caitlyn's panties.

Vi has teased her mercilessly over the last item. There was something so ticklish at the idea of the prim-and-proper Caitlyn Kiramman, with her fastidious manners and her blue-blooded airs, holding her very first fuck-me panties close to her heart—much less in the love-knot of Vi's grubby bindings.

"Just a memento," Caitlyn had squirmed, flushing scarlet. "Don't let it go to your head."

Vi smirked, thoroughly enjoying the display. "My head's the last place that's going, Cupcake. Never thought my wraps would rub shoulders with you skivvies. Let alone your granny's good silver."

"Oh, shut it!" Caitlyn snapped, flushing darker still. "If you must know, they're a reminder."

"Of what? How hard I rocked your world?"

"Not... precisely. I just wanted something real. To help me remember."

Vi was confused. "Remember what? I'm right here."

"I-I know." Caitlyn's lashes dipped. "But things could have turned out differently."

"How d'you mean?"

"That night. On the Bridge. It could have gone... terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Vi admitted, quieter. "But it didn't."

"Because of you."

"Huh?"

"Because you chose to come back." Caitlyn's eyes were shining, but earnest. "You chose to come back for me."

"It's not like you gave me a choice, Cait."

"But there was a choice." The sheen faded from Caitlyn's eyes. Only the earnestness remained. "You made yours. And I made mine. And I'd never have pictured it would lead to..." She trailed off, the flush creeping higher, except now the shyness was subsumed by an almost wistful wonder. "What I'm trying to say is: I wanted to keep a part of you with me. A part that's mine, and mine alone. So that if things ever went sideways, I could always remind myself: 'Caitlyn Kiramman, you took a leap of faith once. And it was the best thing you've ever done.'"

She'd looked at Vi then, and the naked emotion in her eyes was the sweetest torture. Vi's own face flamed. She was used to being the forward one in the flirtation game. To having the upper hand. Not being the one caught flat-footed and off her game.

"That's all the bindings are," Caitlyn whispered. "A reminder. Sometimes... even the craziest leaps can lead you home."

Against her will, Vi's eyes misted.

"Crazy leap, huh?" she managed, trying to regain her bravado. "Is that all I am to you?"

In reply, Caitlyn kissed her. Vi kissed back, a little roughly, just to prove a point.

When they parted on gasps, Caitlyn was smiling.

"You are," she breathed. "And I'd have you no other way."

They'd kissed, and kissed some more, and fallen into bed. But the shocky sweetness of the confession had never left Vi.

Not since.

Vi shuts her eyes, fighting the burn of tears again. In her hands, the trunk is heavy. The weight of a past. One that doesn't belong to her, not by a long shot. Whatever's inside is meant for Jinx, and only Jinx. Vi has no right to open it. Has no right, even, to be here.

Except there's a small voice in the back of her mind.

Wait.

Jinx's past, and the future, have always been tangled. Last night, the knot pulled taut, and her sister had nearly died. Vi had been dragged into the middle of it. So had the rest of the city. Maybe there's something in here that'll clue Vi in on how to unravel the mess. To keep Jinx from repeating her mistakes. From falling into the trap of believing her greatest failure was a childhood lapse that broke everything.

Or believing her only worthy gift is the power to fix it.

Maybe, just maybe, Vi can help.

The key fits into the lock with a delicate click. It turns. The padlock springs open. Vi lifts the lid. Inside are, in fact, mementos. But they're mementos of a life Vi's never seen. An eclectic mix of salvage, toys, and tools. Broken clocks, their innards dissected. Wind-up insects, their cogs and sprockets disemboweled. Half-empty canisters of spraypaint. A small cache of fireworks. A pile of old, dog-eared children's books.

Basically: a heap of shiny.

Vi recognizes her sister's magpie habit of hoarding glitter. The junk stuffed under Powder's bed was of a similar stripe: gears from Vander's old watch, diodes from garbage chutes, fistfuls of colored glass from the arcade, and a single, shiny golden gyroscope.

Vi's fingers touch the gyroscope, and the memory strikes her like lightning.

Ekko.

This was the gyroscope he'd gifted Powder, the twilit afternoon at the reservoir. The day he'd planted a smooch on her little sister, and stirred up a shitstorm when Vi caught them in the act. The day their world, tilting at precarious angles, had not yet gone sideways.

The day is gone, but the gyroscope is here.

Carefully, Vi lifts it out. She's stunned that it's survived the transition of past to present. The gold plating is untarnished. The mechanism is well-oiled. The tiny blue marble at the center, its facets winking, is still intact. As if, throughout the years, Jinx has treasured it more than all the deadly detritus in her possession.

Vi can't fathom why.

At the very bottom is a silk pillowcase. It's stuffed with mysterious flotsam. A small silver pendant shaped like a bird, its eyes made of tiny turquoise cabochons. A set of child-sized brass knuckles, the surfaces etched with a filigree of skulls. A plastic baggie stuffed with leaves, each one browned and crinkly with age.

And—what the fuck?

The curvature of a disquietingly sleek red object with a trigger that, when clicked, sets a row of gears whirring.

It takes a moment for Vi to recognize it as a vibrator.

"Shit," she says, and drops it fast.

It clatters back into the pillowcase, whirring. Vi switches it off, and knots the top tight. Her face smarts. She can't believe her little sister has a sex-toy. One she's seemingly designed to her own specs, judging by the unusual curves and polished contours and the silent-as-fuck mechanism meant to keep her old man from finding out.

Jinx, the Daddy's Girl. Jinx, the terrorist. Jinx, the sorceress.

Who, apparently, has been getting her rocks off.

"Goddamnit," Vi mutters. "I need to scrub my brain out with bleach."

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Imagine GER just finding darling and bringging them to Giorno out of nowhere (as a first meeting, Giorno not knowing darling beforehand)

My stand brought in a stranger and I end up obsessed with them?! That’s a wild thought for Giorno honestly.

Also don’t ask me how this devolved into a weird mix of headcanon/scenario either

I’m seeing somehow, some way, GER anticipated Giorno’s potentially developing feelings for you. He’d be so bewildered his own stand brought him a person, it’s so unexpected that the two of you end being confused not quite sure what to do at first. Since Giorno is the head of the mafia now, he has all sort of potential issues that could arise in it, thus leading you into danger.

There’s really no time in being upset at his stand, there really isn’t a point either. The blond decides to profusely apologize firstly, and he’s not quite sure how you got here. He puts on the gentlest smile he can muster deciding to guide you through this confusing situation. Ironically all of this worrying about you, probably leads to an obsession.

He of course has Mista help him through this, and to no surprise his jaw is wide open when Giorno straight tells him his stand brought you there.

You are eventually taken home, with seeing little of the estate Giorno was staying on. He distracts you as much as possible with casual conversation, he even rides home with you, knowing that’s still a compromising position on both his and your end. He’s certain you’ve accepted what happened and will likely keep it to yourself. The blond could likely leave it be, if he drops it now everything would be fine…

He doesn’t end up dropping it however, it starts off slow, with him keeping an eye out for any increase in crime in your area. Small little excuses that Giorno tells himself needs to be addressed. He ends up figuring out where you work, maybe stages a few people around other local businesses. Unbeknownst to you, you were now under the protection of the mafia.

Any criminal issues, or even abusive behavior is abruptly addressed and taken care of, it’s almost frightening how quick it happens. You’re rather unnerved at how some people look the other way when you walk by. Especially those you might have had a hard time with. There’s a few times you feel like you’re followed, but nothing comes of it. But hey that little garden you had bloomed to life so much, it looked like something out of a fantasy.

You had a feeling who was responsible for all of this, aside from the garden. (You had no clue Giorno was behind helping that flourish). What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t exactly call the police? And you knew people would just tell you to keep your head down. Did you do something wrong?

Ah your heart was starting to palpitate from panicking, one of your coworkers asked if you were alright. You tell them you think you need to go lie down, luckily they were understanding and happy to cover the rest of your shift. Leaving you to walk home shortly after lunch, your eyes casted down on the ground.

Nothing would happen…it would be okay. Yeah, just breathe….

Getting home your hands tremble while putting your key into the keyhole. A click and turn later you rushed inside, until you spot something in your kitchen. It wasn’t there this morning, at least not in the state and type of flowers that were there.

A vase that you usually put cut flowers in, which before you were left for work were in a sad, wilting state, and needed to be composted or thrown out, were replaced by a gorgeous bouquet. There was even a butterfly on one of the petals, slowly opening and closing its wings. You couldn’t really keep your eyes off it either…

It was beautiful, but it sent a sense of dread through you rather than comfort they usually would. Who ended up placing those there? They seemed to know what they had been doing with how they were cut.

Poor butterfly, did it accidentally get trapped in here too? You could at least relate to the feeling of being trapped. Free to roam but enclosed in a strange space at the same time? Was that really freedom?

[zablife]

Becoming Mrs. Shelby (Part 15)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: Ada comes to comfort you and sheds light on the demons of Tommy's past.

Part 14 Masterlist

You startled at the sound of someone rapping at the door, bolting upright from the bed where you'd thrown yourself down for a good cry. Before you could wonder who had come in search of you, Ada's voice echoed through the keyhole.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" she begged from outside your bedroom door. She had witnessed the awful display along with everyone else and became worried about you.

Sniffling pathetically as you opened the door to her, she sighed heavily at the helplessness in your red rimmed yes. That's when she realized you knew nothing of the past. It didn't surprise her that Tommy hadn't told you, but now she knew someone had to explain.

"You should know that this isn't your fault," she began slowly after guiding you to sit on the divan by the fireplace.

"Isn't it?" you asked, wiping a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand. "I'm his wife, I should have known the necklace belonged to Grace," you accused yourself on shaky breath.

She patted your hand sympathetically as she said, "He probably didn't tell you about this because it's such a painful memory for him. You see, she was wearing that sapphire when she died."

You gasped, a hand flying to your mouth to stifle the cry of shock.

"I'm afraid with the new hairstyle and the jewelry, Tommy was plunged into the memory of that night," she told you as she took a seat beside you.

"I had no idea....none," you sobbed into her shoulder. "I would never have worn it if I knew!"

"Of course not, it was a simple mistake," she comforted you. Then with renewed purpose, she lifted your chin with her fingertips as she asked, "Do you want to sit up here all night or come with me and put it behind you?"

"I can't show my face down there," you hiccuped.

"Let me help you fix your makeup and we'll go together," she urged, standing to collect the necessary tools scattered on your dressing table.

"Alright," you agreed, sitting perfectly still as she erased all evidence of your distress. You thanked her as you glanced toward the mirror, noting only a slight puffiness still remaining under your eyes.

As you rejoined the party arm in arm with your sister-in-law, you tried not to be intimidated by the side long glances of those around you. The only person you cared a whit about was Tommy and you quickly found him standing at the window.

A glass of whisky in his hand, he stood perfectly still, eyes fixed on a point somewhere out in the gardens.

Seeing that he was far off in thought, you approached him slowly. Placing a gentle hand to his shoulder, you begged, “Tom...Tommy, please speak to me.” 

The muscles tensed beneath your fingertips in clear agitation, but you would not give up. "I swear I had no idea about the necklace. If I had, I would never have worn it," you rushed to clarify. Placing a kiss to his cheek, you whispered, "I need you to tell me these things if I'm to be a part of your life."

Your heart lightened a bit as he nodded, hoping you could put the incident behind you. However, as he turned to face you, you were struck by the hollowness of his eyes. Suddenly you weren't sure if he'd been listening at all.

“This has all been a terrible mistake. I should never have brought you to Arrow House,” he murmured, walking away from you.

A fresh wave of sorrow washed over you, face flushing hot with embarrassment and tears. You spent the remainder of the party wandering amongst guests who refused to acknowledge you and you forced yourself to consider the notion that this was no longer your home.

Part 16