#trudi plush

[gaelsstuffiehome]

What a chonk!

I love a good teddy bear, and this guy is probably one of the nicest I've ever seen! He's the Ettore bear from Trudi, in the 22 inch size. I've admired Trudi plush for ages, but just never bought one because the more cuddly-sized ones tend to be a little pricey, but he was on sale for $24.99! For a bear this size, made with such high-quality materials and detailed design (look at those paws, and his cute little bear smile!) that's an absolute steal, and I'm glad I got him when I did because he's back up to $59.99 already.

It's a little hard to tell in the lightbox photos how big he is, so here's one with a can for size comparison:

He's a good lapful of bear 💕

[plushieanimals]

trudi ~ sweet labrador

[unicornoftheday]

Trudi

[lady-stormwind]

A cute Turtle

Trudi turtle

My plush animals here

[weasel-posting]

Drew my ermine Snowdrop so I could use it as a comm example :-)

The myth the legend:

Plush ID: Trudy Toys Ermine

[alrightbuckaroo]

it's okay. we're okay.

the teeniest tiniest character study brought on by this post by the wonderful @lonestardust and partly inspired by a conversation with the amazing @reyesstrand <3 also credit to the divider <3

“Hey, hey,” TK’s voice is quiet, calm, as it pierces through the silence.

Though, it’s not really silent. No, right now Carlos is surrounded by a symphony of chatter and rattle. Frantic voices overlapping, the unmistakable sound of pressurized water, and his own brain blaming him for the incompetence that led them here.

Then TK’s calling him baby and the world falls still. TK’s running his hand up and down Carlos’ arm, reminding him that he’s not in the throes of a nightmare and TK’s right here. He’s right. Here.

Carlos stumbles through an attempt at an apology before TK is pulling him in even tighter. Carlos plants his chin in the crook of TK’s neck, breathing in the scent of the man of his dreams because it means he won’t be smelling smoke.

“It’s okay,” TK whispers, his voice delicate like saying the wrong thing might cause the moment to shatter. “We’re okay.” He presses a kiss to Carlos’ temple, and though it’s chaste, it’s kind, it’s soft.

Carlos feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest; that is if he didn’t drop it somewhere on the tarmac.

Then, TK confirms the blood on his shirt isn’t his own and that he’s okay. Carlos waits for his breath to catch up before he’s confirming with, “You’re okay?”. He asks the question as if it’s a plea, as if he’s begging.

TK grabs Carlos’ face in both of his hands. His loving, faithful hands. He answers Carlos’ plea with a kiss brought on by warm, plush lips that remind Carlos of home. He draws back and continues to hold Carlos’ face with steady hands. “We’re okay.”

Carlos nods before wrapping his arms around TK even tighter. He just got him back, he can’t fathom the thought of losing him again. TK’s fingers tighten their grip around Carlos’ jacket, reminding him that he’s not going anywhere.

Just like all those months before, TK presses a kiss to his temple. Again, it’s chaste, it’s kind. It’s soft.

Carlos’ world is crashing down on him. All he wants to do is marry the man he loves but his own cowardice is putting that to a halt. He looks up at TK with red-rimmed eyes and a pathetic smile, “I’m a terrible friend.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” TK ushers out, his voice hushed the same way it was as Carlos’ apartment turned to ash. TK captures Carlos’ face in his hands and Carlos can feel something inside of him hitch. TK’s always delicate with him. “No you are not.”

Carlos must look like he doesn’t believe him because he repeats himself. “No you are not, okay?” He falls quiet, waiting for Carlos to agree; needing Carlos to agree. Carlos barely nods, but TK catches it. Of course he does, he always promises to catch Carlos whenever he falls.

“You’re an incredible friend,” TK reassures him, his thumb gently gliding over the soft skin of his cheek. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

TK gives him a watery grin and Carlos can’t help but think he must look like he believes him.

Life washes over Carlos like a wave. Building upon itself before eventually crashing against shore. His eyes open with bottled pressure, perceiving the golden light casting through Trudie’s kitchen like they’re rays of Heaven.

Carlos gets a glance at TK and he can’t tell if he’s been brought back from death or if Heaven is just this sweet. He really hopes it’s the former, he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.

Then, TK, beautiful, amazing, too good for this world, TK, is holding his face in his hands and Carlos knows. He’s not just alive; he’s not just breathing. He’s okay.

They’re okay. 

They always will be. 

[iliketangerines]

tear tracks

a/n: i want her so bad

pairing: trudy chacon x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), tribbing, dacryphylia

Trudy has one of your legs hooked over her shoulder and your other trapped underneath the weight of one of her thighs, smiling down at you as you grip onto the pillows supporting your head

she bucks her hips forward, rubbing her clit harder into yours, and you let out a choked shimper, small tears starting to brew at the corner of your eyes as you gasp for air

“aw, can’t handle it, sweet thing?” her voice is teasing, one of her hands gripping onto the plush flesh of your thigh, digging her fingernails into the muscle as she watches you unravel in front of her

her other hand is settled on your stomach, gripping onto the soft fat and admiring the way it puffed out whenever she grabbed at the softness

you whine, body trembling, unable to form words anymore, not with how she had eaten you out for an hour before, making you cum too many times to count on her tongue

Trudy licks her lips at she glances down at where her hips meet yours, biting her lip as her clit rubs over yours, sending pleasure sinking into her stomach

it’s a nice feeling, but the small warbled sounds you let out stroke her pleasure much better, the sound of your desperation and begging, so close to crying

she wants to see you cry, to completely lose yourself in the pleasure, to let her take care of you fully and completely and drive you to the edge of madness and pleasure

“c’mon sweetheart, let go for me, you can do that for me, right?” her tongue runs over her lips, tasting the remnants of your orgasm on herself as you try and choke out an answer

a slow roll of her hips forward has your mouth parted permanently, eyes cloudy and hazed over in pleasure, and one of your hands shoots down

Trudy smiles and coos at you, moving her hand from your stomach to intertwine her fingers with yours, and you finally let out a sob, tears falling down and wetting the pillow beneath you

it’s a delicious sight, a delightful sound, sobs of pleasure ripped from you as she grinds against you in a slow perfected rhythm, letting the pleasure climb inside of her

your tears, so full and wet, eyelashes clumping together with the water makes Trudy groan and fixate her stare on your face, how you fall apart underneath her as your entire body trembled underneath her

a pitiful whine erupts from you, your back arching off of the ground as you cum once again underneath her control, her hand

Trudy can’t help it as her own pleasure finally snaps in her, an orgasm sweeping over her senses, but she keeps her eyes on your face, the beautiful tears falling down your face

slowly, her hips stop in motion, and she lets your thigh down from her shoulder and moves down carefully to lie down next to you, carefully moving her hips away from hers but keeping your legs tangled together

your arms come around to encircle her, and you bury yourself in her chest, body still slightly shaking as the final sniffles leave you

��you okay, hun?” Trudy puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing her thumb in circles as you take in breaths of her

“yeah, yeah, ‘m okay, just wanna cuddle.” you mumble it into her skin, and she watches as your breathing slows, your grip on her waist unrelentingly tight

Trudy lightly chuckles and makes a mental note to clean the two of you up the next morning as she closes her eyes and draws you in closer to her

[thewolffairytaler]

Farewell, my innocent Minnie - oneshot | Sinclair brothers x daughter reader

_____________________________

Summary: During the aftermath of the House of Wax being burned down, the police came to investigate the area. They find and try to communicate with a little girl who stands in the middle of the outside investigation area. So when the officers can not get information out of her or even get her to speak, Carley decides to tell them what she knows.

The metallic tang of blood and the stink of burned wax permeated Ambrose's air, clinging to everything, even the cool fall air, like a horrible perfume. The eerie stillness that had descended on the town following the chaotic finale of the previous night had been broken by the entrance of the police, a small force of county cops, and a few state troopers. The skeleton ruins of the House of Wax, a memorial to the atrocities that had taken place there, were blocked off by yellow tape. Sitting on the back of an ambulance were Carley and Nick, who were still suffering from the psychological and physical effects of their ordeal. Although paramedics carefully cleansed and bandaged their injuries, the deeper wounds—the ones that are not visible to the human eye were going to take considerably longer to heal.

As the officers attempted to piece together the disjointed puzzle that was Ambrose, the investigation was a chaotic process. The town itself was in ruins, a holdover from a bygone era. Only burnt fragments remained of the petrol station, which until lately had been the only indication of life. Many areas were covered in a coating of filthy muck, and the roads were hardly usable. The forensics team was also permitted to enter the church, which was the scene of the so-called "funeral" and the source of so many corpses as well, specifically, Trudy Sinclair.

Amidst the commotion, a lone figure stood out – a small girl, no older than six. She was clutching a white faded, plush dog backpack to her chest as if it was the only thing anchoring her to reality. Her wide, innocent eyes were filled with a vacant, haunted stare, a mirror reflecting the unspeakable terrors she had likely witnessed. One officer, a young man with a kind face and an abundance of patience, knelt before her, his voice soft and gentle. He offered her a bottle of water, a small gesture of comfort, but the girl remained unresponsive. He tried to coax her into speaking, asking her her name, if she knew her family, a series of simple questions that should have elicited some response. But she remained silent, her fingers gripping the fluffy fabric of her backpack plush as if her life depended on it. He eventually backed away, a look of frustrated concern on his face. It was clear to him that this little girl was in shock, a profound, debilitating state that had robbed her of her voice and her ability to comprehend the world around her.

With her eyes still coloured with blankness and that reality hadn't hit her yet, Carley added, "She's not going to tell you anything, not now anyway," her voice scratchy from the smoke. The girl's stillness cut through the confusion of the investigation as she and Nick watched from the back of the ambulance. "I saw her with Bo," she added, looking across at the charred remains of the wax museum. "In the church, during that… that funeral." The reminder of that hideous scene of wax figures and Bo's perverse eulogy for the deceased that he and Vincent had so brutally transformed into mannequins still sent a chill down her spine.

"He said she was his daughter," Carley spoke once more, her face furrowed in perplexity. "He referred to her as such, but I'm not sure whether it's true or not. Since I couldn't understand why he would have one, it's too crazy to be honest." Carley was doubtful herself, but she was unable to articulate why. The likeness, the way she handled her dog plush, or the fact that she was one of the few people who weren't wax may be the cause.

Nick, listening on the conversation, also turned to look at the little girl, his heart aching with a mixture of pity and anger. The entire town was a nightmare, an exercise in evil and human depravity, but to think this little girl has been subjected to that was making him sick. ”What's gonna happen to her?" he asked the sheriff, who was standing nearby, his face grim and wearied. "If she's Bo's kid... I don't want her ending up with the wrong people."

The sheriff sighed, his features etched with a combination of exhaustion and concern. "We'll try to get some kind of information out of her eventually. Once the shock wears off, she might be able to communicate, but if we can't find a relative... she'll end up in the system," he stated, his voice heavy. "An orphanage, probably. A foster home if we're lucky. But until then we just gotta wait, do what we can." The grim practicality of his words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the harsh realities that awaited children like her.

A different officer, a young woman with a gentle demeanour, approached the little girl. She crouched down, offering her a kind smile, and extended her hand. The girl looked at her hesitantly, but eventually, she took the officer's hand and allowed herself to be led towards a police car. As the little girl sat inside, cradling her dog backpack, she looked out of the window. Her eyes widened slightly as she spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Lester, who had parked on the side of the road, was standing by the edge of the police cordon, the family dog, Jonesy, at his side. He didn't look sad, but he didn't look angry either. Almost... indifferent, was that the right observation? She wasn't sure. He gave Nick and Carly a small wave when he made eye contact with the ambulance car, which one officer did see but ignored it as they didn't think much of it.

In the desolate terrain of her trauma, the young girl experienced a flash of recognition and a warmth that spread through her chest. In Ambrose, Lester was one of the few pleasant persons she had encountered. Despite his outward appearance, her uncle had street smarts, and she knew that he and Jonesy would be okay. It will be all right for him. She lifted her little hand and waved a quiet goodbye before anyone could see. A delicate bond amid great grief and uncertainty, a moment of bittersweetness.

Lester waved back, his hand shaking with passion, his heart hurting at the sight of her. Perceiving her owner's grief, Jonesy gently whimpered and nudged his palm with her nose. Minnie was Jonesy's little pal, the young child who would smuggle food into her mouth while Lester and the twins weren't there. Her face was so innocent and pure that Lester couldn't stop staring at it. All he could think was that she didn't deserve this. He watched as the six-year-old was taken into an unknown future by the automobile. He silently vowed to the gods, whoever they may be, that he would eventually see her again after swallowing the lump in his throat.

Author's note: Minnie is not the little girl's name, nor is she supposed to be an OC, but she has the potential to be one. Basically, Minnie is her nickname, I will write her with (Y/n) affiliations, but she'll have a personality as if she was one. So, it's pretty much like any (Y/n)'s out there. Sometimes, I feel as if (Y/n) is just something author's write to make readers want the experience of being in the story. Only to write the characters in a way where they are just the author's OC. Because I don't ever read a Y/n fanfic where I can relate, not once have I ever seen it.

[mysticalenclave]

🧸✨ My Squishmallow Picks ✨🧸

My Squishmallow Picks! Well, at least my favorites.

This post contains affiliate links. Mystical Enclave is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a way for websites to earn advertising revenues by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. We only recommend products we have either used, are using, or would use and share with our family and friends.

Squishmallows are pretty famous for being soft, squishy, and cuddly... But also collectible! Here are 10 of these cute things! (My favorites, of course)

1. Squishmallows Original 14-Inch Analea Purple Tabby Caticorn with Fuzzy White Belly - Official Jazwares Large Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/4gcLa4L

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Great for cuddles and is really adorable. Easy to use a box and blanket for a bedroom with said squishmallow. You can also let your dogs or cats sniff it and let them play with it if you don't mind: Free Toy! All my cats sniffed and left.

2. Squishmallows Original 5-Inch Austin Avocado - Official Jazwares Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3ZhhJIL

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ It's small, so 4 stars only. Still cute and adorable. Much easier to store on a shelf or in your closet that you are DYING to use after 1 second of looking at it. Cats love this. At least, mine do.

3. Squishmallows Original 20-Inch Nabila Purple Tie-Dye Narwhal - Official Jazwares Jumbo Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3YYr0VH

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ It's pretty big. 20 inches? A foot long and if it was 22 inches, we'd get two feet! Pretty huge, right? Cute too. It's a Narwhal with a name, personality and looks. I mean, who doesn't love Narwhals?

4. Squishmallows Original 16-Inch Malcolm Mushroom - Official Jazwares Large Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/472ki34

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Another huge one. These are pretty tall. I found this one in my spare time on amazon whenever I got obsessed with mushrooms (STILL AM-) and found a few mushroom decorations and then searched up for a squishmallow and found this one. 10/10, will recommend forever until I die. Or, until I stop obsessing over it.

5. Squishmallows Original 14-Inch Scarlito Purple Barn Owl - Large Ultrasoft Official Jazwares Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3SYOciX

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 1 foot and 2 inches. Ultrasoft too. I love it. I personally prefer Hedwig though... oops, spoiler alert, I'm a big potterhead. Scarlito is the perfect owl up for adoption. I once found a squish beanie from TY called Kirra and this was the perfect friend for her. Background information, Kirra is a cat.

6. Squishmallows Original 16-Inch Woodward Snowshoe Cat with Fuzzy Belly - Official Jazwares Large Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3Xf4qqH

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ This one made me happy. I will love cats until the end of my days. Oh wait, you weren't interested in that? Anyway, 10/10.

7. Squishmallows Original 5-Inch Maui Yellow Pineapple with White Belly - Official Jazwares Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3z4pGpE

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Okay, if you hate pineapple, skip this one. I love pineapple personally and I don't care about the size. It's pretty neat, isn't it?

8. Squishmallows Original 20-Inch Pyle Purple Mushroom - Jumbo Ultrasoft Official Jazwares Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3Ml4LSs

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Mushrooms AGAIN. I love them! Anyway, this one is perfect for Halloween, actually.

9. Squishmallows Original 8-Inch Felexine The Rainbow Fox - Official Jazwares Plush - Collectible Soft & Squishy Fox Stuffed Animal Toy - Add to Your Squad - Gift for Kids, Girls & Boys

Link: https://amzn.to/3YX6Rzi

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Felexine is purrfect for your fellow foxes. Also good for cats to play with.

10. Squishmallows Original 12-Inch Trudy Ladybug with Spotted Wings - Official Jazwares Plush

Link: https://amzn.to/3YZn2MD

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Easy to love, cuddle, and squish. Perferably squish. Kirra would love if Trudy visited!

Here's the end of the list! If you want to learn about the squishmallow or buy it at the official store, Jazwares, you can head over to their website OR check the bio of the squishmallow to learn about the squishmallow.

Love, Magical Enclave

P.S Want to learn about the new book series I'm reading? Look at my review I will post at 8 PM sharp!

[crusherthedoctor]

Some kid: My plush got stuck under this boulder :'(

Trudy: Don't worry, I'll handle this. *lifts boulder* There you go. :>

Sonic: 🥵🥵🥵

[junineo]

incredible. floored. what do i do with all this money?!??!?!

i really dont understand why neopets (and many other similar games) dont just have a staff member spend a couple weeks, every few years, rebalancing rewards from games. like... no, it wont break the economy if you simply go update the rewards from scorchy slots or dicearoo (or even the 1000np flash games reward lolllllll) to something decently relevant for the current time. in this case, giving me 10-50k np for this win feels like it wouldve been reasonable - and we already get more than 10k just from the daily quests, trudy, etc, so its clearly not going to have any major effect on the economy.

i guess the only actual problem is the php/html games being more vulnerable to cheating in certain ways. but like... they would definitely have been able to afford paying a good programmer to fix security and cheating issues before, even if they currently cant (and cant prioritise old games and old content due to lack of resources).

if i was able to earn like 10k from playing a flash game (if you got a rly good score, not just for any score) i would also be more likely to actually do that. and apparently grundo's cafe gives out item rewards when you get a good score, which is also a good incentive, and reminds me of my childhood on neo where they gave out magical plushies for high scores in some games. (i wanted to get a magical poogle or magical chomby plush so badly)

[beevean]

If it helps cheer you up: since you're fond of Cream's relationship with Trudy, how about a small writing prompt crack at that dynamic? :)

"I'm sorry," Trudy blinked, and shifted slightly in the chair too small for her. "You infiltrated one of Dr. Eggman's spaceships? By yourself?"

Cream vehemently shook her head. "No, I wasn't by myself, Cheese helped me!" The Chao in the bowtie, sat next to the bunny like a plush toy, chattered in confirmation.

"Ah, I apologise. But still, weren't you scared?"

"A little. But I had to rescue my mother from the evil doctor!"

"That is." Trudy let a little cough into her hand when words failed her. Sonic surrounded himself with formidable company, it seemed. "Well, I'm just glad that you got out of there safe and sound. You are a very brave girl, and I am sure that your mother is proud of you."

Cream beamed at the praise. "Thank you, Miss Trudy!"

Trudy returned it in kind, and decided she couldn't help it: she moved her hand and ruffled some of the fur of Cream's head. She wasn't just the most courageous little girl she had ever meet, she was also positively as cute as a button.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I sure would, dear, thank you."

The bunny offered the plastic teapot, and pretended to pour something in Trudy's cute teacup, which she then brought to her mouth... taking care of sticking her pinky out, of course.

[dcbbw]

Trudy Sloane

This story is my submission for #Sloane Washington Appreciation Week. Yes, it’s late. (SORRY!) For those who are unfamiliar, Sloane Washington is a potential LI for the Perfect Match MC, and possibly one of the better characters PB has created. She’s beautiful, highly intelligent, and has a myriad of interests and hobbies including astronomy, science-fiction (reading, writing, watching), coding, Greek mythology; additionally, she has a fondness for penguins. What’s not to love?

There were so many amazing themes for Sloane Appreciation this year, but I chose to go with exploring Sloane Washington, the woman. There are threads of canon here, but mostly it’s head canons. And yes, William Sloane from Rules of Engagement made his way in here.

This has been hastily edited, and not read over by others, beta’d, or any of the things that reassure me the story makes sense and I haven’t crossed any boundaries, so anything that falls flat or sits wrong is solely on me. Call me out in the DMs on it.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this fic as 100% error-free.

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspo: Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 2,225

Pairings: Sloane Washington x F!Kai Park (former), Sloane Washington x Khaan Mousavi

Rating M for Mature due to adult themes

Sloane Washington sits on the side of her bed, her palms running down her face as she scrubs sleep away from her eyes and cheeks. She rolls her neck to alleviate the pain caused by a crick as she exhales a quiet sigh while her eyes adjust to shadowy darkness.

The quiet in her domicile sounds … different somehow. She had been sharing her spaces with not one, but two people in the months following the downfall of Eros, but it was no longer a temporary arrangement subject to arbitrary whims and the trajectory of drunken arguments.

Gertrude Sloane Washington was engaged. To be married. The weight of the question asked, coupled with the permanence of her answer, changed everything. Or perhaps nothing. Time would tell.

Sloane extends her left hand, feeling the heaviness of the engagement ring on her third finger permeate her entire body. The modest gemstone twinkles weakly against the slivers of muted moonlight.

Naked, she rises and pads silently across the bedroom floor to a rocking chair that sits in a corner of the room. There’s just enough illumination eking through the closed blinds for her to make out her robe laying atop the pile of unfolded laundry sitting on the chair’s seat.

Her hair, normally plaited in an elaborate coronet braid, is twisted into two thick ponytails, one hanging over each shoulder blade. She lifts the tresses while black polyester fabric whispers against soft, almond-colored skin as she shrugs into the covering.

Sloane briefly glances over at the still-sleeping body in the bed; it heaves slightly and rhythmically, in sync with slumber-filled breath.

Khaan Mousavi. The man who would be her husband.

Sloane walks over to her bedside table, feeling the stickiness from their earlier coupling between her honeyed thighs before scooping her cellphone and exiting the room. She shuts the door quietly as the soles of her bare feet drag across the top of the carpeting; she takes a few steps before reaching the closed door of the apartment’s second bedroom.

It had been Hayden’s room once upon a time. Now, it was Hamza’s room. Hamza was Khaan’s son from a previous relationship, and soon to be Sloane’s stepson. Parenting was a frightening concept to Sloane, but hadn’t she essentially parented Hayden? The basics should be the same, right?

Brush your teeth.

Look both ways before crossing the street.

Be kind.

Don’t kill people.

She opens the door slightly, peering through the crack. A head full of brown hair lays on the pillow; the child lies on his back, small arms clutching a plush Sonic the Hedgehog. Soft snores emit from slightly parted lips. Blankets and sheets have been pulled away from his body, causing Sloane to hesitate in the doorway.

Should she go in and cover Hamza? She didn’t want the child to be chilled and potentially get sick. But Hamza was such a light sleeper …

Sloane shuts the door as quietly as she opened it, deciding to let the boy rest. She makes her way to the kitchen, her eyes taking in the furnishings that blended the girl she had been and the woman she had become.

Home.

The wall across from the bedrooms is covered with an enlarged photo of the aurora borealis; a corner curio next to the front door is filled with various diplomas, certificates, and awards bestowed upon the young scientist.

The entertainment center is filled with photographs of Sloane: a newborn baby, held in her mother’s arms; with her mother at both her high school and college graduations, both smiling broadly; college Sloane with the STEM club; with her current social circle, her arms wrapped around the waists of Kai Park and Hayden Young.

A bookcase is filled with books and DVDs, mostly science-fiction, dystopia, and documentaries.

The walls are covered with prints and vintage photographs of vaudevillian comedians. Sloane’s a fan of slapstick comedy because of its straightforwardness; there are no nuances to decipher or innuendo to wade through. The comedians share wall space with photographs and posters of historical women of color.

She makes it into the kitchen, walking across tiled flooring that had once rubbed her back salaciously when a former lover covered her face with sloppy kisses before taking Sloane drunkenly upon its freshly mopped surface just before a dinner party.

The same flooring that had taken the beating Sloane’s fists had pummeled against it when the lover left.

She glances quickly at the counter, seeing the stack of mail Khaan had tossed there before dinner. Sloane tightens the belt of her robe as she quickly sorts through the letters. Bill, bill, junk mail; she frowns at the last envelope, addressed to Gertrude Washington.

She knows immediately it’s junk or a solicitation of some sort. Sloane hadn’t been Gertrude in over a decade.

Sloane never bothered to ask her mother why she named her only child Gertrude; she had always assumed it to be a family name, belonging to a favorite aunt or an almost-forgotten great-great-great grandmother.

What she told herself is that she was named after a great woman in history.

Perhaps Gertrude Bacon, an aeronautical pioneer and writer with contributions in astronomy and botany; or Gertrude Barrows Bennett, an American writer of fantasy and science fiction. Sloane’s personal favorite was Gertrude Blanch, the mathematician.

Gertrude grew up in Washington, DC in an era where the options for black residents were limited. Children from lower-income families were encouraged to enter the military; mid-income parents steered their offspring towards the federal government for the job security, or vocational school to learn a high-earning trade such as cosmetology, barbering, or plumbing.

Even as a child, Trudy, as her mother affectionately called her, was different. She was a voracious reader and loved spending rainy Saturday afternoons curled up in bed with a good book. She didn’t watch the other television shows her friends watched; Trudy was a fan of the Star Trek franchise, religiously watched the PBS science series NOVA, and instead of playing with dolls and makeup, she took anything mechanical apart to find out what made it work, in the hopes of improving it.

But her formative years weren’t comprised of only reading, libraries, and mechanics; her mother insisted that her daughter go outside to play and socialize. Summer days were spent outdoors with her friends and other neighborhood children riding bikes, roller skating, walking to nearby parks, and jumping rope on sidewalks.

It was a decent balance.

Sloane opens the refrigerator door, reaching for leftovers from dinner: Chinese food. She’s of a firm mindset that Chinese food and pasta are the foods of lovers. It was a no-brainer when Khaan asked what she wanted to eat after he proposed.

She methodically sets containers of wonton soup, spicy vegetable dumplings, ginger garlic tofu, and onion fried rice on the counter before reaching for a plate from the overhead cupboards. Khaan and Hamza preferred a cleaner diet; Sloane was not opposed, but expected no flack when she chowed down on cheeseburgers and pepperoni pizza.

University was an eye-opener on many levels for Trudy. The college’s population was a sea of diversity Trudy had never been exposed to before; her uptown DC neighborhood was completely black. Her inner-city schools had been filled with black faces of varying hues. Here, on campus, there were complexions of every color, accents and languages that were foreign to her nation’s capital-domesticated ears.

Academically, she soon discovered that high school wasn’t even a blueprint for navigating higher education. Her achievements, her being named valedictorian, her extracurricular activities meant nothing. Trudy was starting from square one, with only a thirst to learn and know more.

Socially, she found the best way to make friends was to network. While her social anxiety made being around strangers and large crowds difficult, Trudy signed up for the newly formed STEM (science, technology, engineering, math) club, the campus chapter of Hogwarts International (she was House Ravenclaw), and volunteered on the Student Government Association’s board. She began listening to AM radio, home of underground music and arguably, the birthplace of the podcast so that she could contribute to pieces of conversations swirling about her in the food hall.

Slowly, Trudy went from geeky loner to having a small circle of friends which was all she had wanted. She was there for a purpose, not popularity.

On a personal level, Trudy found herself eyeing both male and female classmates; her cheeks would bloom with blush when seeing someone especially attractive, and she would avert her glances when eye contact was made. She had never truly thought about nor questioned her sexuality. She admired physical beauty equally, and if someone caused certain urges to arise, so be it. To Sloane, it was simple: she liked them. In that way. But she never thought to act on anything until William Sloane, her first boyfriend.

William was a business major, with his life planned out for the next 10 years. He was tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, and a known Lothario. It was no wonder he caught Trudy’s eye; for her, the mystery was how she caught his. For a year, they shared study nights, attended concerts headlined by local talent, and found themselves late at night sweaty and tangled in wrinkled sheets before eating bowls of ramen while consuming cheap wine.

After an amicable breakup, Trudy found herself still drawn to the local music scene; she especially liked a group known as Angular Melodies. Trudy found herself traveling to see their shows: Philadelphia, Baltimore, Richmond, Va., and Charleston, SC. It was in the southern coastal town, surrounded by mossy trees, crepe myrtle, and enveloped in the most oppressive humidity known to man that Trudy met members of the band.

She was interested in the female lead singer, who was dating the female bassist. Who happened to have an interest in Trudy.

And that night after the show, in a cheap motel with faulty air conditioning and a bed too small for three bodies, Sloane Washington was born.

Sloane sits on her couch, legs tucked beneath her as she holds her plate of re-heated food. Her eyes are fixed on the television; Something the Lord Made plays on the screen. It’s one of her favorite movies. Her head lifts at the soft slap of bedroom slippers, and she smiles when she sees Khaan. His hair is free of its usual man-bun; he wears striped pajama bottoms and Sloane’s bedroom shoes. His eyes blink owlishly behind his glasses.

“Smells good,” he greets his fiancée as he plops in the sofa beside her.

“Have some,” Sloane offers as she pushes the plate towards him. “I’m getting full.”

“Thank you,” he replies as he takes the food. His eyes look over and meets hers. “For everything.”

Sloane nods before focusing her attention on the screen again.

He acts as if either of us had a choice in the matter.

They both knew their union was built on mutual admiration and respect.

And love. For another person.

Kai Park.

Kai was unlike any person Sloane had ever met before. Free-spirited and slightly irresponsible, but with a wit and knowledge that surprised even Kai herself at times, she breezed easily into Sloane’s life by way of Hayden, whom she had been matched with.

Sloane fought her feelings against Kai; the woman had Damien chasing her like a rabid dog and Hayden wrapped around all her fingers. Fearing rejection, or worse … hurting Hayden’s feelings, Sloane instead forged a friendship with Kai.

It was stepping into the deep end of the ocean without a life jacket.

The more the two women interacted, the deeper Sloane fell. But Kai was falling for Hayden, even after discovering he was not human. She was also torn about her feelings towards Damien.

Sloane revealed that she was bisexual and had been in a polyamorous relationship. It made no difference, and Sloane distanced herself from the friend group until one Richard Cummings was revealed to be a crucial link to bringing down Rowan West and Eros.

Sloane was shocked to discover that Richard Cummings was none other than Khaan Mousavi, the architect of the Matches’ framework. They had worked together previously until Khaan’s mysterious and abrupt departure from Eros. She had always admired Khaan, or rather, Khaan’s keen intelligence and attention to detail.

She respected him.

Kai, however, had different ideas. She had made her choices regarding her love life, and neither Sloane nor Khaan had made the cut. Her thought process was to push the two who hadn’t won her heart together; she teased Sloane constantly about having a crush on Khaan, while foisting the idea of a relationship with Sloane onto Khaan.

The couple knew what Kai was doing, and they were both still so desperately in love with her that they allowed themselves to be “matched” to make her happy. It hadn’t been a bad decision; they had enough in common and had built a professional relationship along with cultivating a deep friendship.

And now they were going to marry.

Kai will be so proud.

Khaan puts the food away while Sloane dozes on the couch. Unknown to them, life is gestating within her body and has been for the past four weeks.

Down on the street, a sleek, black Town Car idles in front of the building. The two backseat passengers clasp hands as they stare up at darkened windows, unsure which ones belong to Sloane.

“They’ve stolen my child,” Soo-jin, Hamza’s mother seethes in a harsh whisper as she brushes dark bangs away from her forehead.

“They’ve taken children from both of us, my dear. They’ll pay. Soon,” Rowan West promises before tapping on the glass partition, signaling the driver to pull off.

 Tagging:  @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations @lizzybeth1986​ @sazanes​ @sloanewashingtonappreciationweek​

[shmoopsthecutie]

I wont be able to finish everything before midnight because I have school stuff to take care of, so I’ll just post the rest on two-loween

Day 8 - meme: its pretty much Trinity and Devins whole dynamic

Day 9 - marketable plush: a plush Kofee made of her sister, Pauline

Day 10 - Miku: David would be a hardcore miku fan

Day 11 - fast food order: Fun fact, Trudy absolutely loves french fries

Day 12- Non magic au: Jackie if her universe didnt have monsters of every kind

Day 13 - school au: a new character, Margaret, is definitely the type of teacher to just put on a movie for the whole period

Day 14 - Mythical creature au: A character who I have yet to name would definitely be a tanooki considering whats going to happen in her story 

Day 15 - Opposite personality au: One of my characters, Mike as a punk

Day 16 - Genderswap au: Just my dragon-guy oc genderswapped

Day 17 - Different time period au: Abby in a steampunk setting, including a few elements I’ll implement into their canon design

Day 18 - Retail working au: pretty much what would happen if one of my stories never started for this one

Day 19: Sonic au: not much of a fan of this one

Day 20 - animal crossing au: Pluff as an animal crossing villager, still with a weird vibe to her

Day 21 - Future au where oc has kids: fur babies count as kids, right? I couldn't come up with a design for a kid for Christine, but I know she’d be more than happy to adopt a shaymin

Day 22 - Magical girl au: instea of how people usually get powers in the universe, Cassiopeia got herself a rather marketable and toy-etic set of moves and outfit to boot!

[greycornersofas]

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[momagirl-cosmicstatic]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Trudy NFL Football Chicago Bears Collectible Teddy Bear Plush 1980s.