#plush checklist

[dejwrites]

( 𝟽𝟽𝟽 ) ⸻ pretty mouth, pretty girl !

before reading please be advised of the following — female reader, female antomy described, reader is black coded (descriptors included), modern au/non curse au, usage of spit, titty fucking, established relationship (reader & choso are dating), this fic belonged to another character but i gave it to my pookie, enjoy !

The coolness of the silver rings that decorate his fingers touched his lips as he was in deep thought. He liked you. Correction, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.  He liked the way your tongue licked the wrapping paper when you two smoked in your favorite spot after a joyride on his motorcycle. He liked how you lathered your lips in whatever lip gloss was in your miniature purse that could only fit a piece of candy and probably about two other things. He enjoyed how you talked—your voice like a sweet tune on a Sunday morning. He enjoys the sun bouncing off your brown skin, giving it a perfect glow—like a spec of gold was sprinkled on it.

 Choso enjoyed how your coils fell in your face after a successful attempt at whatever hairstyle that had his oversized t-shirt you wore the night before drenched in water and hair products. He loved that you got along with his brother Yuji Itadori; former flings couldn’t tolerate the pinked-haired male. But you, you seem actually to be able to have a conversation with him—so any stamp of approval from Yuji was huge for Itadori. He can go on and on—create countless Apple notes checklists about what he liked, cherished, and loved about you. But nothing beats the one thing that had his cock twitching in anticipation.

The way you looked up at him when you were on your knees.

Your plush, plump lips are swollen from kissing. Your knees are bruised from the wooden floors below your body—Choso forgot to put a pillow down. But he was sure he’d put a bandaid and clean up the bruises late on, but right now, he wanted to focus on you. Your pretty manicured hands holding your tits tightly together with his cock wedged in between them. The lewd, wet sound of the spit he hawked down on them and the lube he found me in his nightstand was like music to his ears. His burning ears felt so hot that he could have been running a fever.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Choso whined while his hips bucked upward several times. He wanted to touch you some more badly, but if he did—he’d come so quickly.

“Like what?” You questioned as your mouth gasped open just in time for thrust forward in between your boobs and your tongue to brush against the slit on his pink-shaded mushroom-shaped tip. Being sure to let your tongue briefly brush against the silver hoop that created his Prince Albert piercing.

“Shit, I can’t wait to fuck you after this.” He grunted through broken whines as he increased the movement of his hips. He was bucking so recklessly that it was causing you to fall backward just a bit.

Your hand grasped at his toned thighs to stop him briefly, “Slow down! You’re going to make me fall.” You glance up at him through your eyelashes, and instantly his cheeks fade to a crimson color in not only humiliation but the fact that he is about to cum.

“I’m sorry. I told you to stop making that fuckin’ face, and you just do it.” Choso says, his teeth nip on his lower lip. If he could, he would bite his lip off in embarrassment.

“I can’t help it that my face makes you about to come,” You respond before you grasp at the bottle of lube that is next to your body. You opened it, lathering it between your tits, and now grasped upon them tighter. “Now, you might want to hurry before the others come over for game night.”

Shit, Choso was thinking so much with his dick that he forgot about the game night.

He didn’t respond to your words. He went back to thrusting his girthy cock in between your boobs. With each thrust, you’re trying not to let the grasp on your boobs go. With each thrust, Choso’s beautiful eyes are staring down at you and how you look. 

This was the look he was talking about. The way your teeth dig into your bottom lip as if letting him titty fuck you was the most important task that you must concentrate on. Or that on some thrusts, your tits are spilling apart in one hand because you were so eager to rub at your clit through your panties—he already knew you were soaked. Chaotic sexual activities like this always had your panties soaked. So soaked that they stuck to your pussy lips briefly when he dragged them down your legs.  

His finger grasped at the wooden nightstand next to his bed to gain some form of balance as his thrusting continued. His head fell back in a temporary bliss, and he could feel his cock twitch in anticipation. His thick cock being wedged between your perfectly sized tits was driving him insane. His body heat increased with seconds, and he tugged the graphic t-shirt up and brought the ends of it in between his teeth so he could get a better view.

“Continue that; I’m about to come, baby.” Choso coos softly. 

He could feel his balls grow heavy, and he knew that he was about to release a heavy load. The way that you knew him, his soul, and his body so well—you knew it too. Your hands grasp tighter at your boobs, and you begin to maneuver your body to match Choso's reckless thrusting between your boobs. He lets out a dragged-out slur of your name before he's a coming mess. 

Thick ropes of cum shoot out the tip of his cock, similar to water squirting out of a water gun. His hand gripped his cock as he angles himself to paint his canvas. You, his stunning girlfriend. You wait patiently—no desperately for his cum. His cum that he lets shoots all over your pretty face. His cum that drips down on your perky tits—just adding on to the mess that decorates your chest. 

The sight of his white-shaded cum imprinting your face probably became his favorite look. Especially seeing the sight of you letting your tongue drag alongside your lips to collect the liquor that splattered on your lips.

Maybe the game night for tonight can be postponed. 

[kyletogaz]

gorgeous, i don’t know if you're accepting requests (if not, please disregard this whole thing) but i can't stop thinking abt kyle with a significant other who braids his hair every time he returns from a long deployment 🥹🥹

i’m sorry it took so long, i hope you like it. 🩵

welcome home, it’s wash day!

kyle says he’s coming home today.

he’s been gone for weeks, and you miss him. the phone calls, texts, and video calls are nothing compared to having your man home from deployment, and in your arms. you’ve barely gotten a wink of sleep since he told you the night before.

“darling, i’m coming home,” kyle croons into the phone when you answer on the first ring.

warmth spreads through your body at the sound of his voice. “are you really?” you blurt out, hope blooming in your chest.

“yes, darling. i can’t wait to see you.”

you can barely contain your excitement when he tells you he’ll be home sometime in the afternoon.

you’ve been keeping yourself busy all morning while you wait for kyle to come home. you’ve been glancing at the clock every now and then, willing the time to go faster. when it doesn’t, you try to read a book. and when that doesn’t help, you end up in the living room, sitting on the sofa with the remote clutched in your hand as the tv drones on. you’re not really paying attention, though. the only thing on your mind right now is kyle as you anticipate his arrival.

you’re not sure how long you sit there caught up in your thoughts, before you hear keys jangling and the front door opening. kyle barely manages to give you a, “honey, i’m home,” before you’re on your feet, launching yourself into his arms.

you knock into kyle with so much force, you almost send the both of you tumbling to the floor. and kyle is just laughing in delight while he hugs you tight. "i've missed you, sweetheart," he murmurs against your temple. he’s so happy to be home.

"not as much as i've missed you, baby," you coo sweetly while staring at him in complete and utter adoration. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

kyle shifts away slightly so he can get a good look at you. you watch as a soft smile spreads across his lips. he thinks you’ve gotten even more beautiful while he was away.

“you checking me out, garrick?” you ask with a teasing grin, laughing softly when he wraps himself around you. you let out a happy sigh when his hand strokes down your back and over your hips, then back up to your face.

“that a problem, sweetness?”

“not at all,” you say before capturing kyle’s plush lips into a kiss. you giggle when he gently yanks you into his broad chest. when he’s done kissing you senseless, you pull away with a pleased look. “let’s get you settled in and then we can do something about your hair.”

whenever kyle came home from deployment you would give his hair a good wash and condition so you could braid it. you would sit kyle down on a chair, shove your phone in his hands, telling him to pick a style from the images in your camera roll. it was your favorite routine. if he was home for a long stretch, you’d make sure kyle left for deployment with fresh braids, his bonnet, and a few of his favorite hair products.

kyle’s braids usually last for two weeks, so whenever he was gone and couldn’t make it back home to have them redone, he’d give his hair a good wash and throw it up in a ponytail until he came home. one time when you suggested that he learn how to braid his own hair, he looked at you like you were crazy. but i like it when you do it, babe. you give the best scalp massages.

as you step away from the front door, expecting kyle to follow, you tell him how cute he looks with a ponytail. he’s right on your heels following you up the steps with a big grin on his face. when you reach the top of the landing, you leave him alone to get settled in, so you can gather everything you’ll need for his hair. you’re so busy going over the checklist in your head, you don’t hear kyle join you in the bathroom.

“need any help, love?” he asks, startling you a bit, from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

you notice kyle’s now dressed in sweatpants and a tank top. you bless him with a smile, before telling him he looks cozy. “i think i’ve got everything i need. you can help me carry some of this stuff downstairs after i’m done washing your hair.”

once kyle’s hair is nice and clean, you run the blow dryer through his soft, thick locks. kyle’s sitting on the floor between your thighs enjoying the sensation of your fingers massaging oil into his scalp.

“you know you don’t have to sit on the floor,” you point out, gesturing to the kitchen chair he’d carried into the living room a while ago.

“i’d rather sit here in between your lovely thighs. it’s my favorite spot,” kyle mutters as he scrolls through your camera roll looking for a hairstyle.

you feel yourself grow hot as his words. “kyle, please,” you huff, fighting a smile. “have you found something you like?” you watch as kyle holds the phone up for you to see. the person in the picture has braids going straight back, with a braided heart on the left side of their head. “oh! that’s so cute. i can do that. you’re gonna look so good.”

kyle squeezes your ankle gently. “i better! johnny’s gonna be so jealous when he sees this.” he’s already thinking about taking selfies as soon as you’re done.

you just shake your head with a laugh and reach for the comb to part kyle’s hair. while you’re making magic with his soft locks, he’s chatting animatedly about the things that happens on base. between him and johnny, you’re not sure which one of them gossips the most. it’s fun though, because kyle always has you on the edge of your seat every single time.

“i love this you know,” you hear kyle mumble quietly. you’re almost done braiding his hair and you can tell he’s barely awake. he’s leaning against your thigh with his eyes closed. he looks at peace.

“what’s that?” you ask as your fingers glide through his hair with precision. you’ve saved the heart for last because you want it to be perfect.

“having you braid my hair every time i come home. you’re so good at it, babe. got me looking good all the time.” he let’s out a soft sigh when you pause your braiding, to lean down and press a kiss to his temple.

you tell kyle that braiding his hair is one of your favorite activities to do. you’re always looking up new ways to be creative with his hairstyles. and you love the fact that kyle lets you. when you’re done, you drag him to the nearest mirror so he can look at your work. you ask him if he likes it, and you can’t control your laughter when he sees the heart and says fuck yeah, baby i love it.

“well i’m happy you love it, honey. next time we’ll try adding some tinsel.”

a/n: this is the pic i’m referring to:

[marlopawsome]

Made a Plush Checklist for Palia

Because i found one for fishes and it helped me so much so i made one for the plushies

[sixhours]

looking for the light

Rating: Everyone Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel and Sarah, Sarah Miller, Joel Miller, baby Sarah, soft!Joel, Joel needs a hug, Joel is trying really hard OK, angst, angst with a happy ending, but mostly just angst, sorry Word count: ~750, it's a baby fic

Note: Y’all can blame @frannyzooey for this little bit of heartache.

You can also read on AO3.

~*~

She screams for what feels like hours.

“C’mon, baby girl,” he whispers, a note of desperation creeping in. He’s been through the checklist–formula, diaper, swaddle, rock–but she won’t settle. “Sweet girl, Sarah girl, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

We’re okay.

And she screams.

Her little face scrunched up, tears streaming down–those are new, he thinks dully–body arched taut as a bowstring.

Pace and rock and sway and prep the bottle only for her to spit it out, check the diaper, rub her back in slow, firm circles, pace and rock and sway and shush.

Screaming.

He turns 23 today. Or maybe it was yesterday. He doesn’t know what time it is, doesn't know how long she’s been like this.

“It’s alright, you’re alright. C’mon, baby girl. I got you.”

Screaming.

And then his hands are shaking too hard to hold her, his vision blurred with tears of his own.

He can’t do this.

He sets her in the crib, the one she hasn’t used since they brought her home, tiny limbs poking out of her car seat harness like a starfish, practically swallowed by the thing, so small.

Fleeing from the room. He doesn’t make it far. She is gravity and he is stuck in her orbit.

He slides down the wall in the hallway, curling in on himself, chest so tight he thinks he might pass out. When he finally sucks in a decent breath, it’s a barking, wheezing thing, and he wastes it on a sob.

Laureen walked out two weeks ago. No note, no call, just went back to her parents in Albany. The paperwork signing over her rights is sitting on the kitchen table, stained with coffee rings and sour milk.

Tommy’s bedroom is empty and he’s god knows where, probably drunk or fucking around with some girl. He’s 17, still a kid himself, another responsibility he isn’t ready for.

Joel bites down hard on his fist and wishes desperately for the mother they buried six months ago.

He can’t do this. He can’t. He can’t raise a baby and pay the bills and keep his brother out of trouble. He should…

No. No, he can’t do that. The nurse handed her to him in the hospital, all red-faced and slick, and she’d taken his heart when she wrapped her tiny hand around his thumb.

So that’s not an option.

But Christ, he’s drowning.

“Please.”

He doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Doesn’t know anything but the needling sound of her cries that he can no longer ignore.

He stands, swipes at his eyes, goes back into the room. Picks her up.

Pace and rock and sway and shush.

“Please, Sarah.”

Whispers swallowed by screams.

“Please, baby, tell me what you need. Please.”

Tears on his cheeks to match hers as he begs. He begs.

“Please, baby girl.”

And then he must bounce just right, or pat her just right, because she lets out the loudest, most magnificent burp Joel has ever heard. It shouldn’t be possible, such a big sound coming from such a tiny body. It rings in his ears and settles her quaking limbs, spit-up soaking the back of his shirt. He never has the burp cloth on the right side. It doesn’t matter.

Quiet.

“Was that it?” he sniffs, pathetic. “Was that all, sweet girl? Jus’ had a bubble, huh?”

Shuddery little hiccup against his chin.

“There she is,” he murmurs, cupping her tiny head in one palm, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “My girl, my Sarah girl.”

He collapses into the plush glider rocker, the one that cost a full month’s pay, the one Laureen insisted on. He hadn’t blinked, just wrote the check.

One foot on the floor, one on the ottoman, rocking. She settles on his chest, ear to his heart, already drowsy.

“We’re gonna be okay, you an’ me,” he whispers, nose pressed to her crown, tears still drying on his cheeks, willing himself to believe it. “We’re gonna be jus’ fine.”

~*~

Dawn.

She stirs, little snuffling noises, mouthing one tiny fist. 

He shifts her into the crook of his arm, sleep-crusted eyes blinking open to look at her, lets his thumb trace the velvet-soft curve of her cheek.

“Mornin’, baby girl.”

Dark brown eyes mirror his. The softest coo in answer.

And something new.

Tentative, hesitant at first, then blossoming.

“Yeah? You like that?”

Throat thick with love, shaky in-breath. Happy tears this time.

“Yeah,” he whispers, returning her first smile. “Yeah, we’re gonna be okay.”

[bendycxmet]

hello hello! My apologies if ever you're requests aren't open rn but if ever they are would it be alright to request a Vash x reader prompt <33?

I was thinking reader and Vash just having a happy and silly moment together like eating donuts or cuddling together but then when reader spares a glance to the side and sees Vash smiling all warm, happy and real they get all teary eyed and sentimental cause they're just happy to see Vash smiling and enjoying himself the way he deserves. I'm sorry if this prompt is too much but if ever you're willing to pick it up thank you so much!

Hope you have a lovely day/evening!

requests are always open! i should make that more obvious... but thank you for this sweet ask! i hope i didn't make it tooo angsty i tried to stay on the soft side but we gotta be real sometimes hehe sorry this took so long! life got hectic but i hope you enjoy my lovelies! muah muah

Love, Peace, and Donuts

Brown paper bag filled to the brim with the sweetest of delicious donuts, oily stains now slowly seeping through the material. Radio on the nearby table playing the recent hits from all around Gunsmoke, a poppy and bouncy song being transmitted from the speakers. Boots and shoes kicked off at the entranceway, two bodies leaning against each other on the plush and cushioned couch. All things on a checklist of Vash’s dream relaxing Sunday morning. 

You can practically see Vash mentally ticking the items off his list, the last item being marked off as he sags more in the cushions behind him, an arm being slung around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. 

“Satisfied?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at his relaxed state. He was full of energy this morning, sitting up in bed as the first rays of sunlight hit the wall opposite your window, stretching his arms outward before collapsing on your sleeping form, attacking your face with wet kisses to rouse you from your slumber. His eagerness early in the morning was later explained by him mentioning that the baker in town was unveiling two new donut flavors this morning. 

“You know it. Sorry to wake you up so early. I just didn’t want the newest donuts to run out.”

“How could they? We were the first ones there. The baker hadn’t even opened the door yet.” 

“Oh, but they were so happy to see us! First customers of the day!”

“More like scared to see us,” you mumble, remembering how the baker had recoiled when she saw Vash jumping in excitement once he got a whiff of the fresh dough smell emanating from the mortar and brick shop. “But I bet they were glad that we bought two dozen donuts to make up for our…early arrival,” you quickly remarked, not wanting to sour his good mood. 

He reaches forward to grab another donut from the bag, popping it into his mouth and leaning his head back onto the back of the couch. He hums along to the tune floating in the air, fingers drumming along as well on your shoulder. You join him, your head flopping back on the cushions and turning to look at him closely now. 

He finishes his donut, swallowing the delicacy and humming, a soft smile splayed out on his face. He continues his humming, but feeling your gaze on him, opens his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against the sudden light, and turning to look at you.

Being woken up so early must have fried your brain. Slowed it even. You didn’t notice when he was nuzzling your face first thing in the morning, or when he chatted with the baker, hand holding yours gently to keep you close, or when he burst through the door of your shared space, boots thrown haphazardly in the hallway, turning to you with the bag of donuts held above his head, both of you dancing around each other while dodging the shoes thrown around the doorway. 

You hadn’t noticed that this was the happiest Vash had ever been since you had known him. 

The smile gave him dimples, the corners of his eyes crinkling. The unprotected softness and adoration he held in his eyes immediately broke something in you. 

“I love it when you smile,” you quietly say before sobs rack your body. You hunch forward, hands coming to cover your face as the tears stream from your eyes. You mentally scold yourself, hating that you perhaps just ruined his perfect Sunday morning. You cave in more, arms completely encircling your head in an attempt to hide your pain from him.

You had seen this man face horrors no human being–well, plant–should ever face. Years upon years turned into decades and then a century of Vash constantly facing hate, fear, dread, pain. The will and determination you always saw in him was beautiful and inspiring, but sad to see. Why did he ever have to be that way in the first place? He didn’t deserve it.

You hear him squeal behind you, straightening to hug your body closer to him. 

“Oh, Angel what happened? Did I wake you too early? We can go take a nap right now!”

You shake your head at his guesses, your sobbing starting again. You feel his hands grab yours, watching him with puffy eyes as he kisses your wet palms, licking the saltiness away. 

“What’s got you so worked up, my love?”

“You’re… happy. I can see it so plainly now.” You sniff, collecting your thoughts. “For years, I would hear you shout ‘Love and Peace!’ at everyone. But I wanted that for you-” a whimper cuts you off, but you grit your teeth against the onslaught of tears. “I wanted happiness for you, Vash. I wanted you to have so much of it inside you that it showed truthfully on the outside that you were happy, and I- I finally saw it today.” 

Vash traces your cheeks with his lips, kissing the corners of your eyes. He leans back, caressing your face to make sure you look at him. He’s nose-to-nose now with you.

“You are my happiness. You are my love and peace.” Tears begin to blur your vision, Vash quick to dispel them from your lids.

“Listen to me when I say that you are the reason for every good thing that has happened to me. I live this life now with so much happiness and love knowing you are by my side. Your very existence is enough reason for mine.” 

His affirmations lift a weight you hadn’t known you were carrying until this moment. You let out one final cry of relief, gratitude, love. You're not sure yourself, but Vash kisses them away again, embracing your emotions.

You breathe, breathe in the air and him, collapsing against his chest, the emotions and early morning catching up to you. He leans you two backward onto the arm of the couch, humming a sweet, slower tune as he pets your head, his other hand rubbing your back. Your breathing slows, face dry now from rubbing into his shirt. You glance up once more before closing your eyes, seeing the tenderness etched into his face as he leans down, and kisses your forehead before the both of you slump into a midday nap. 

A/N: i recommend the song "tenderness" by general public! it popped into my head while i was writing this

masterlist

divider

[cashmakozume]

dumpster love

once upon a time (grocery run ୨ৎ)

⟡ m.list

your pov

with daichi and you making small talk, the walk to coach ukai’s store was comfortable. it didn’t feel forced, which is something you liked. the gaps of silence were accepted between the both of you and it felt as though the both of you agreed upon it.

“so, what do you need?” daichi’s voice broke your train of thought.

“pretty much everything, to be honest.” you replied, being sincere in your needs.

you explained to him that both of your parents worked a lot, and they travelled constantly. this left you to fend for yourself at home. you were in charge of your own cooking and cleaning.

“doesn’t it get lonely?” daichi asked, genuine curiosity etched all over his face.

“well, it does.” you started before greeting coach ukai once you’ve reached the store. “sometimes, i wonder why i have to move around with them when they don’t even come home.” 

you stopped to pick up a basket but daichi beat you to it and ushered you towards the aisles.

“b-but i’ve gotten used to it though!” you quickly added, not wanting to put a damper onto the mood.

“if you want some company, you can come over!” daichi offered. “pretty sure my mom wouldn’t mind and my siblings can bother someone else for once.”

“i wouldn’t want to bother you and your family.” you replied, while looking at the aisles, going through your mental checklist of what you need. you were sure that he was just being nice.

“who said you would be a bother?” he added. “i promise you won’t be one.”

daichi held out his hand in front of you, with his pinky finger out. 

“holy shit, you make pinky promises?” you asked him, visibly excited.

“what do you think?” he shook his hand, trying to bring attention to it. “don’t leave me hanging.”

you finally linked up your pinky with his and the both of you mirrored the widest smiles.

⟡ inch resting...

⟡ daichi really wants the hedgehog plush but he doesn't want to steal it bc he has manners

⟡ the entire nekoma vbc has the cat plushie bc kuroo forced them to get it and y/n picked the most deranged looking so she can name it kuroo and piss him off (kenma helped)

⟡ suga convinced daichi to beef with kuroo on twitter (kiyoko barely stopped him bc she wanted to see the end result, don't tell anyone)

note from miyako

i'm sorry for the time jumps i wanted to move the story along if not i'll actually write a day by day play and it will be 500 chapters long bc i am deranged

✗⚬ﾒ𝟶, m ♡

⟡ taglist goes here [comment that you want to be in!]

@rinheartshyunlix @cloberrii @staygoldsquatchling02 @starlitsawamura @nnnyxie @integers

[bigfan-fanfic]

Writing Game 1.1: Simple

Prompt: Picnic Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

Thank you to the 87 wonderful freaks who voted on my lil poll! I hope you enjoy the first of nine little short fics for this first round!

"Y'know, traditionally, picnics don't involve so much... silver." Clark chuckles, gesturing at the chilled silver tureen of fruit, the mahogany charcuterie board, and the few cloche-covered platters of sandwiches, profiteroles, and chocolate covered strawberries laid out as they take a picnic in the gardens on the grounds of Wayne Manor.

Bruce gives a smirk, his dark blue eyes twinkling. He leans across Clark, enjoying the way the farmboy blushes as he glances down where Bruce's shirt creases at the open button. "That so? I wasn't aware you were a picnic aficionado."

"Oh, hush." Clark chuckles, pushing ever so gently against Bruce's chest to move him back to his side of the plush red patterned carpet laid down beneath them in the garden - probably some material like cashmere.

"Truthfully, I... may have gone a bit overboard." Bruce admitted. "Despite my extensive training, I am... rusty with my culinary skills."

"Wait, you're telling me part of your Batman training was cooking?"

Bruce levels an unamused look at the astonished Kansan.

"Sorry. Carry on."

"I just... sometimes I can go overboard when it comes to extravagance, to cover up the inadequacy I feel at the basic level."

"You're charming enough at parties." Clark muses, observing Bruce, watching him make a conscious attempt to remain open in his body language, to defy the instinct telling him to conceal his emotions. It was adorable how hard he had to try to be vulnerable.

"It's easier when I'm playing a role. When I'm Bruce Wayne, the socialite, the Prince of Gotham, it's no different than playing the role of Matches Malone, or any other aliases. I can throw myself into the character. When I'm stripped of pretense... I'm woefully incomplete."

"Well, that's just not true."

Bruce rolls his eyes. "You really think that? My deficiencies in simply making a meal for myself without Alfred's aid, my failures as a parent and mentor, my lack of skill in basic socialization-"

"When you make yourself into a checklist, you're bound to leave some stuff out. You look at yourself with such a critical eye, you're bound to see all the flaws before the good. If nothing else, that just goes to show how self aware you are." Clark smiles, gently plucking a chilled square of watermelon.

"Leave it to you to turn my self-pitying musings into a complement."

Clark smiles, using a black cloth napkin monogrammed with a gold W to catch the juices of the fruit running down his chin. "Pa always used to try and freak me out. He said if you swallow a black watermelon seed, you'd grow a watermelon in your stomach."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "I haven't heard about that."

"It's not true. In fact, it's not even anecdotally true; nothing will happen, they're not even slightly toxic, like apple seeds. It's just some random thing we used to say or believe. Like that you shouldn't swim right after eating."

Bruce doesn't talk about his parents. Just as a general rule. And he doesn't now, even though he can probably tell that Clark is wondering if Bruce's dad would've told him these silly little lies, or any of the other countless common parental platitudes. Clark is a deeply empathetic person, and it hurts him to imagine that Bruce never got to be with his parents. It's not even the same kind of situation as him with Jor-El and Lara, who are still somewhat strangers to him - he still had parents. Still had Ma and Pa. And Bruce had Alfred, but it couldn't be the same.

Clark looks at him and instead says, "Can I have a hug?"

And Bruce looks startled, but obliges him. Gracefully, fluidly rises and practically straddles Clark, embracing him. Clark sighs happily and leans back until he's lying down, Bruce on top of him, pulled into an inadvertent kiss.

They kiss for a while, then lie together looking straight up, watching the clouds drift by in the sunlight. A brilliant day, not even just by Gotham standards. Bruce still isn't sure that Clark didn't fly up there before the picnic to ensure the perfect weather.

"I don't mind how extravagant you are. I think it's just how you show love. And besides, I know you don't really mind how plain I am."

"I envy it. I wish I could be simpler, I just... don't know how."

"I don't need you simple, silly. I just need you."

"That's exactly the kind of sugary sweetness I expect from you."

"Why, I do believe I'm growing on ya, Mister Wayne."

Bruce looks at him. Clark looks back. He can see Bruce steeling himself, preparing. And he lets out a very, almost comically, serious...

"I love you."

Clark allows himself one second of pure shock, realizing just how much it took from Bruce to say that, finally.

"I love you too."

Bruce's hand finds its way into Clark's, and they stare into the sky until the sun starts to set and the honeybees start coming for the fruit left uneaten.

Some things, it seems, truly are that simple.

[egg-emperor]

Eggy definately has a Sonic bop bag to vent his frustrations, but he hopes one day to have the real deal one day to wail on😈

lol YES definitely, he has a bop bag with Sonic on it, a stress board with his picture on it, a plush of him to beat up when he's mad like the ones that were made for E Series target practice, and his Hedgehog Hammer Whack-A-Sonic game in Adventure

checklist of what Eggman brings out when he's fucking PISSED at Sonic in hopes of the slightest ounce of catharsis

(I just made that third image on a custom dart board site I love it lol)

but Eggman is so strong and so mad that he commonly splits the inflatable from punching so hard, explodes the stress ball from squeezing too hard, the dart board has so many holes the picture is barely visible, he tears the plushies apart very easily, and the Whack-A-Mole Sonics are completely smashed to pieces. one day he hopes to do all of the above to the real thing!

[cvlutos]

“Heartslabyul’s Annual Valentine’s Day Tea Party”

| 02.13.23 | 0.7K | Rated PG |

Riddle Rosehearts X GN!Reader

Characters 18+ | Fluff | Soulmates | Poetic | Proceed with Caution, Beloved. |

T.Manor.Notes: YAY! I poured my heart and soul into Riddle’s!! Happy Valentine’s Day, Beloved!

RULE 500: SOULMATES MUST PREPARE THE ANNUAL VALENTINE’S DAY TEA PARTY TOGETHER. NOTHING SHOULD BE MISSING, NOR BROKEN, AND MUST BE MADE OUT OF THE FINEST SILK, CLAYS, METALS, AND CLOTH. ZERO SUBSTITUTIONS.

His hands are warm. Firm, like that of a strong oak tree that you once climbed as a child, with its thick trunk and sturdy branches that held your weight then and you were certain that even in old age, would—could hold you know. Ageless yet aged so gracefully as warm sun bleeds through green leaves, warming your skin and giving into your childlike sense of wonder. What could possibly be beyond its leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? You know the answer. The clear blue sky.

Spring is when the thread shines the brightest.

The crimson rope nearly glowing as you spend your days staring at the winding red that wrapped around streetlamps and swished and swayed between lovers who have already found each other. A string that never strays, and you know what lies attached, the special one waiting for you. Calling for you, with every winding of the thread, every turning road it leads you down.

His hands are warm, the string tied oh so tightly to his left pink, like a crimson ring, as your threads wrap gently around both of your wrists and hands. Palms pressed tightly together. The trolley jostles slightly, the bag you're holding swaying in your grip, once again becoming aware of where you were. Sitting upon plush velvet seats, as open-air danced upon your skin and shifted your clothing. The trolley is crowded, overflowing with couples, lovers—soulmates. Some married for years and some married recently. Others only just now finding their other half.

Soulmates.

That word often sends a shiver down your spine, as your glance at the one who sat beside you, who silently gazed at his phone, staring at the checklist of all the things we needed. You glance at the large paper bag that you hold, filled to the brim with decorations. The small trolley once again rocks your shoulder and brushes against his, yet he remains unfazed.

The checklist had all the items needed for the Tea Party. Most of which you acquired, having run around all the Queendom all morning until early afternoon, hand in hand like children in a candy store. Eyes bigger than their stomachs as they stocked up on sweetest delights. Yet with no one to wave a finger in your face and scold you. You both strayed from the checklist slightly.

“You seem quite deep within your pool of thoughts.”

As if someone had popped your balloon, you snap out of your thoughts, shaking your head wordlessly. “Is something wrong?” Soft gray eyes that reveal so much to you. Concern, curiosity, love. All of each in which he wants you to see.

“… No. I was just thinking.” He tilts his head further, brows furrowing together, yet he doesn’t speak, merely observing you. Watching you gather your thoughts in a way that would make sense, he squeezes your hand. A subtle motion, but one that has your shoulders relaxing almost instantly.

“We’re soulmates..” It comes out as a breathless laugh, as if dawning on you, that your soulmate was none other than the Riddle Rosehearts.

“… We are…” There's hesitance, yet not of regret or dislike, but of embarrassment and joy. The apples of his cheeks turn a soft pink, as he does a quick glance to your hand—his hand—hands entwined. He thinks to move for a moment, his palm pulling away. You won’t let him. The action startles him, a gentle clap sound following as your reposition your hand closer, tighter than before.

“Your hand is warm.” He mutters under his breath, eyes moving away from you, as you blink.

What could possibly be beyond its green leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? Beyond the red strings that followed closely behind as you climbed, higher and higher and higher. As you swat aside leaves, feeling branches scratch your cheeks. You knew the answer, yet it’s different. There are clouds. White fluffy clouds that slowly crawl against the blue sky. It’s different, yet—

“I'm happy… that we’re soulmates…“ There’s a breeze that blows, dances across your face, and ruffles your clothing, that makes Riddle’s words seem like a melody you have oh so long to hear.

And it is better than you expected.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited

[littlestpetshoparchiver]

LPSO Plush Checklist!!

[marokra]

The circus was quiet, after the dinner. Far too quiet. So quiet, that the recently-dubbed Geminitay was left alone with her thoughts. Which, for the record, was not a very favorable situation given the dangers of mentally spiraling in the digital plane.

She hoped that this was some sort of messed up nightmare. That she’d wake up in a cold sweat, and return back to her dead-end job. A job she hated, really, but she’d rather take that over this.

Gem pinched her arm, and then held her hands in front of her face. Yep. Not a dream.

She sighed and pulled up a mental checklist. Pretending this was a dream would get her nowhere. Might as well begin to process it all, right?

Can’t leave? check.

Trapped in a body that is most definitely not her own? check.

New name because her memory got messed up and she can’t remember any of the important details of her life? check.

Yep. All the signs were there. This was Geminitay’s own personal nightmare, and she was stuck living in it.

Earlier today when she went to check on Ren, Martyn had called this place Hell. and Gem was starting to think he was right. Everything she had seen today, The Void (with the eyes so many eyes that were all watching they were watching-), The Circus that was covered in deceivingly happy colors, the abstracted (unnatural, horrifying, dangerous) form of the so-called “Red King”, the fact that she couldn’t even remember her own damn name-

Not to mention how that “exit” from earlier seemed to be mocking her. Laughing at her feeble attempts to escape. And hell, if Gem’s theories were right, said “exit” was the thing that drove Ren to insanity. The thing the ringmaster had created to try and appeal to everyone’s desire for a way out drove one of his own to Insanity. Pretty messed up if you asked her.

Gem sighed, sinking down into the chair. Honestly, she should have expected this. You can’t be that surprised when the circus’s ringmaster is an AI that has no foresight.

A similar sigh was heard next to her, and she whipped around to see Scott sitting on the floor, the two making eye contact for a moment before he looked away. The plush glanced her beady button eyes to the side, and sure enough, Martyn was sitting across from her. Right. She wasn’t alone. This was fine.

She should say hi, right? She barely knew these people, hell, she had just met them, but it wouldn’t hurt to say hi. This was awkward. The silence was awkward. She was awkward. The tension could easily be cut with a knife. So, Gem did the most logical and reasonable thing to do in this situation. She grabbed the knife and started cutting.

“soooo. What’s the deal with Scar and Grian?” Worst icebreaker ever, Gem! this is the worst one you’ve ever used in your entire life! And sure, you can’t remember most of your life, but still!

Scott seems a bit caught off guard at the question, but recovers quickly. He plucks a star out of his hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Nobody knows. There’s been theories, yeah, but we’ve never figured out what’s going on with those two. Something about a previous adventure. A desert monopoly and a cactus ring, we’ve gathered that much.” the celestial replies, not bothering to spare a glance at Gem as he answers the question.

Martyn sighs. “Scar’s been making sad wet cat eyes at our,” he pauses to do air quotes. “‘ringmaster’ ever since we were thrown into this mess.” The marionette adjusts his position on the bean bag chair, sinking down to Gem’s eye level. “If you’re asking me, i’m tired of it.”

“So something happened with a past adventure and now they’re being all weird about it?” Gem tilts her head slightly, celebrating a little in her mind. You managed to start a conversation with the worst icebreaker known to man! Score!

“They’ve been weird about it for years, but sure, let’s go with that.” the marionette shrugs.

“Maybe it’s trauma. With Scar, at least. Not sure about Grian, is it even possible to traumatize AI?”

“Oh no no no,” A previously unseen jester poked her head over the edge of the balcony above, earning a surprised screech from Gem. “Grian isn’t an AI. He’s human. from our world.” the jester—Pearl, Gem’s mind supplied—hummed.

“Wait, what? but i thought he was-” She felt something hit her plushy body, glancing over to see that Scott had flicked a star into the side of her head. Ow.

“A lot of us thought that, when we first arrived here,” He paused, “Mainly because of his involvement with the circus itself. But over time, his more human mannerisms became glaringly obvious. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t noticed yet.”

“No AI starts wars for no reason.” Martyn commented. “And no AI has an inexplicable fear of being watched.”

“He started wa-??”

“-AI don’t take in other circus members as their own either!” Pearl cuts her off mid-sentence, the jester’s bells jingling as she jumps down from the tower, landing a bit to the right of Gem with an unceremonious fwoomph. “Grian saw us as family, siblings even, when we arrived. Well, me and Jimmy anyways.” Her voice drops to a low whisper, her uncovered eye darting around, making sure that nobody was eavesdropping. “Which was why he was so devastated when Jimmy. uh. abstracted.”

Gem could only nod. She noticed Martyn and Pearl have some silent communication for a moment, Martyn’s expression asking if he could continue. Pearl nodded, and the marionette turned back to Gem.

“It was something we hadn’t dealt with before. Nobody knew how to handle it. we didn’t even know it was possible.” Martyn added, frowning as he did so. The plush deer glanced over at Pearl, who sat in silence. Her gaze returned to Martyn.

“We tried everything we could to bring him back. Nothing worked.” Scott took in a deep breath before he continued. “He became too dangerous. People were getting glitched out left and right. The circus was a mess. And we had to put Jimmy in the cellar because of it.”

Well. That’s quite a bombshell to drop on somebody. Gem couldn’t even begin to imagine what everyone in the circus has gone through. And judging by Scott’s voice and the amount of crossed out portraits in the hall of doors, Jimmy was hardly the only one. Just how easy is it to lose your mind in the digital plane? How easy would it be for Gem to lose her mind? To actively harm the people she’s stuck with, no mercy involved? To be seen as a threat, and get thrown in a cellar with countless others? To experience a fate worse than death? She had to be careful. She had to be careful to never get too close, to always keep tabs on her mind. Because she’d never know when someone would get “abstracted.” She’d never know when she loses someone until it’s too late. She’d never know when she loses herself. Just one more thing to add to the list of reasons why she hates this place-

“Hello! Earth to Gem! Yoo-hoo! Hi! Hello!”

Pearl’s hand was flying in and out of Gem’s vision. The plush shakes her head. Better snap out of it. Dwelling in the possibilities would only make everything worse. Plus, this wasn’t even about her! This was about Jimmy!

“Right! Sorry. What were you saying?” Gem tilts her head as much as her stuffed animal body would let her. Which wasn’t much.

Martyn sighed. “As i was saying, Abstraction has become pretty normal for us nowadays. Yeah, I was a little bit caught off guard by Ren-“

“Extremely caught off guard.” Pearl chimes in.

“Extremely caught off guard, but someone getting abstracted is far from abnormal at this point. We’re used to it.”

“Mm.” Gem nods. “So, Jimmy was the first, right?”

“Yeah. Canary call, first to fall, forever caged in different walls and all that. That’s what They say about it anyways.” The marionette shrugs.

“Who’s They?”

A pause. Pearl, Scott, and Martyn immediately tense. A deafening silence blanketed the room, all eyes on the deer who asked the question.

A few seconds pass.

“Soooo, who wants to go drown in the digital lake?” Scott panickedly proposes. He glances behind himself, seemingly trying to make sure nothing was Watching him.

“Ahaha, I sure do love drowning! Come on guys let’s go like right now-” Pearl blurts out, a fake laugh tumbling from her lips.

Martyn nods. “I can’t wait to go dr-aha-own, byegemseeyoulater-”

The trio of circus members all but ran out of the tent, leaving Gem alone in a confused daze.

“Huh.” Weird.

[pupyr0arz]

unfinished gazreader kidnapping snip.

“You should see a therapist.” You pose it with a careful statement during what you’ve decided is Thursday night. Not out of any actual knowledge you’ve gathered, your kidnapper has been smart or you’ve been especially stupid. It’s just board game night, and that’s a Thursday night activity. 

He, your captor, pauses, setting down the monopoly piece. “Lovie.” He says, now with disappointment coloring his voice. You try not to act like it affects you in the slightest, it really shouldn’t. He dragged you into his weird dungeon and has been keeping you trapped here, but the ‘authority figure who’s sad you’re so stupid’ is ingrained somewhere in your psyche.

You waited until the two of you had blown all the way to monopoly, which is definitely something you’re never going to admit to any cop or shrink you see after this. Timing your attempts to coerce your way out of here so you’re the least lonely is a kind of pathetic that needs years to fester. You haven’t been here for years, the most you’re willing to accept is a couple of months. You try to focus less on how pathetic you’re acting and more on selling this.

“You’re obviously not a bad person,” you begin hastily, trying to 

rush past the lie. He hates it especially when you try and cozy up to him, weirdly enough, fussing about genuine feelings. Why did he decide to lock someone in a basement to genuinely change their mind about him? You try not to dwell on the details. Crazy people are crazy. “I think you just need to talk to someone. Really get all of these feelings out there.”

“I have more than enough people to talk to,” he tells you, reaching out to hold your hand. You run down your mental checklist as he takes it, don’t flinch away, don’t straighten your fingers, keep your arm loose and natural. “You shouldn’t worry about me at all. Just let me worry about what’s important.”

The unspoken ‘you’ is louder than anything else he’s said. Sometimes you wish he would scream at you, shout, threaten you, anything to justify the paranoia you digilaintly keep. You try for a smile, and he allows it, squeezing your hand. “You have friends.” You probe. “Are you up there talking with them a lot?” Would they hear you if you screamed? Could you get a message to them, somehow?

“Friends and coworkers. I haven’t invited them over, the place is too messy. Besides, we only got here recently. We should get adjusted, shouldn’t we?” He smiles, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth and you fight to keep your neutrality. The drop of infinitesimal hope is accompanied by his lips, plush and warm. He puts on chapstick religiously, which is something you’d joke about in any other scenario.

You have no idea if he’s lying or not. Everything is ‘soon’ or ‘just happened’ when he tells you, tiptoeing around giving you a solid timeline.

“Of course.” You say demurely.

[girlvulation]

I lied. I forgot I have two papers I need to write and final after spring break. This might be the only long post for awhile. If there are any mistakes let me know. I might come back and edit it once I sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is hard to tell how long you have been tied up like this. The feeling of soft rope tightly caressing your body. Intricate knots wrapped around each curve, keeping your legs apart and hands bound together as if you were praying. You were on the cusp of doing so. The soft sound of a vibrator bound to your clit by the shibari. Not knowing the last time you had squirted but knowing if one more, you might not make it into the next day. Your clit was swollen and red from the abuse that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Knees bucking against the lush carpet, trying to find a way to loosen the vibrator stuck against you. Not sure if he was still in the room. Just watching your pathetic body release nothing but cum and whimpers. It was hard to see with the scarf covering your eyes. Its opaque material makes everything seem darker than it already is. It didn’t help you also worse glasses and were currently without them. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the situation you were in right now. It had been three years since you last had a romantic partner or even had sex. Thinking it was time to try again but not wanting any serious romantic feelings involved, you opted for a partner at a kink club. The initiation was a long process, with plenty of interviews and a detailed checklist going over every kink from the basics to the most obscure. Even confirming your health through an extended panel of sexually related diseases to make sure you were safe enough to enter. After all that, plus a healthy fee, you could finally enter. It wasn’t quite like you expected when you first walked in. Instead of the usual fantasy of ropes, toys everywhere, and people naked or barely dressed, you were met with a luxurious-looking cigar lounge. The color palette envelops you in warmth and sophistication, with deep forest green walls accented by plush brown leather seating. It was bathed in a soft, inviting light that danced off the cream-colored marble floors and ornate gold fixtures, adding a touch of old-world charm. Each seating area is carefully curated for comfort and style, featuring plush leather armchairs and sofas arranged around polished mahogany tables. In the center of the lounge, a grand fireplace casts a warm glow, inviting guests to relax and unwind in its flickering light. A well-appointed bar offers an extensive collection of top-shelf spirits and wines. Soft jazz music fills the air, creating a soothing backdrop for conversation and contemplation. 

Amid the detailed environment, people were dressed in black tie attire. Each with a band around their arm as they conversed with the people around them. You knew the place was on a high scale compared to other dungeons in your area, but not to this extent. Even though you tried your best to match the dress code, you felt as though you were underdressed, not having the confidence the other women did. Straightening up and placing your red and yellow band onto your arm, you walked over to the bar to calm your nerves. That is where you met him. Tall, beautiful hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile oozing with charisma were your one weakness when it came to men. You shared a drink with the man, making an easy conversation. Every now and then, you would glance at your surroundings, watching as people entered different rooms with others. You knew that’s where the real fun began, and you were hoping you would be entering one of those rooms with the man in front of you. 

Cut to now, you kneeling naked on the floor as the third orgasm is ripped from your body. Did he really leave you in the room all by yourself? Becoming fearful of the situation, you were about to safe word before the scarf was removed. In front of you was the same man staring down at you with a mix of warmth and lust in his eyes. He had been here the whole time after tying you up. Watching you slowly lose yourself in the pleasure. A soft whimper left your mouth, the need to kiss him growing stronger with each passing second, but there was nothing that could be done. All you could do was watch as he removed the vibrator from your body, relief washing over. 

“You did so well for me, darling. Taking those orgasms like that. Just watching you lose yourself in pleasure, the drool dripping down the corners of your mouth as another orgasm took your body and overstimulated you. You have no idea how hard I got just watching. Do you wanna see it? Wanna see my thick cock all hard for you? Needing to be burning inside you? I promise we’ll get there soon”. The words he spoke washed over your body. The thick Texan accent made him even more irresistible. It didn’t matter how bad you needed him. In your mouth. You pussy, Your ass. Anywhere that he could fit. Slowly undoing some of the rope so that your body could be manipulated better, the man hummed as he admired his work. A few quips about how beautiful you were and how he couldn’t wait to fuck you were thrown in there from time to time. As the ropes from your legs were loosened and removed, he made quick work burying two of his fingers inside your cunt. A gasp left your body before you began moaning like the whore you were. 

“My pussy is open and hot and ready to clench around your cock. Please fuck me..” it was all you could say once his fingers curled inside you, but you knew it didn’t matter. He was going to have his way with you how he pleased. With a tsk and a headshake, he removed his fingers and put them in your mouth for you to taste. “My sweetheart is so need right now. With that type of begging, I have no choice, but you fuck your throat. That pretty pussy won’t get a taste of me until the very end. Okay, sweetheart?”

With glazed-over eyes and a nod, he removed his fingers from your mouth and stood up. He was already shirtless but began working at the black dress pants. Palming himself as he did so. Pulling himself out and giving his cock a few pumps, he thrust into your mouth roughly. With no time to adjust, you were reduced to just a throat to fuck. Even then, the pleasure from just the action alone made your pussy throb. The wet sounds of him fucking your throat and his moans filled the room. With spit gathering in your mouth, you swallowed around him, your mouth becoming a vacuum that made his cock twitch as you moaned and whimpered around it. “Damn baby, if I knew your mouth was this good, I would have fucked it from the beginning. What say we give this pussy a try, huh?”

With that, his cock was removed from your mouth, and you were carried to the large bed in the middle of the room. Positioning you on the edge as he lined his cock up to your pussy from behind. It already twitched with anticipation; he made quick work and thrust inside you, beginning a fast and harsh pace. Finally getting what you truly desired, you broke and rambled what came into your quickly deteriorating sanity. 

“My pussy needs you. It belongs to you. You own this tight hole. Yes! Yes! Unnh! Unnh! You’re so good! Unnh! You’re so good!”

The only thing that could heard in the room was your voice and his thrust. Watching you lose it on his cock, a soft chuckle left him as he stopped his thrust and began grinding into your pussy. The feeling made your eyes roll back as he brushed against your cervix. 

“God, look at you. Losing it on my cock. Do I make you feel that good, baby? Mmm…fuck, this pussy is so good. You feel so deliciously tight around me, sweetheart. You want my cum, baby? Want me to breed the greedy pussy of yours? Take this cum, baby. Take it all. Feel me pour all my seed into you.”

“Unnh! You fill me so full! Unnh! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! I love your cock! Unnh! You own me! Unnh! I’m your slut! Unnh!”

His thrust became more erratic and rougher as the near end. Feeling him breed your insides brought out another orgasm. You had forgotten how many times you did tonight while your pussy milked his cock dry.

[kollector-of-stims]

Cats vs Pickles series brings Kittens vs Gherkins:

EDIT MADE: THEM COMING TOGETHER AS THEY ARE ON THE CHECKLIST CAN BE FALSE!

Each pack comes with two small plushies, either 2 kittens, 2 gherkins, or one of each. They're this much smaller than an average Cats vs Pickles plush:

And a phrase (nice one, Felicia. They knew. I don't usually get pickles but you're an exception.)

And the "baby blanket" they come with is actually crunchy and plastic on the inside! Similar to a baby or dog toy! Very stimmy!

While I was looking through the packs, I also realized a trick/cheat really early on: you can partially see what's inside by pressing the plastic wrapping (the white parts work best) against the plushies inside:

(These are, from left to right, Cleo the Egyptian kitten, and Cheshire the grinning kitten. You can see the almost tire track-like pattern around Cleo's waist, and Cheshire's grin and freckles. Both were in the same bag and had to be moved/shaken around to change positions. Real life and better lighting may help.)

With that said, each pack contains 2, and it seems like the order on the collectors guide stays in order: groups of 2 show which kittens/gherkins are packaged with one another.

Cleo and Cheshire came together and Felicia and Waffles did too, ya see.

EDIT: TURNS OUT THAT THEY DONT ALWAYS COME IN THE SHOWN PAIRS. I GOT LIL RAINBOW MEOW AND LIL SKELEKITTY IN THE SAME PACK! Love them both but still. Be wary and check both plushies if need be.

All of this info together should hopefully help whoever wants to get a pack to get a pack with their prefered plushies inside! Let's hope that at least one person gets the kittens or gherkins they want with this guide and cheat!🤘

[compassionatereminders]

Any advice for a trans dude that hasn't transitioned yet ?

Also do you like animal plushes ?

As someone who at 31 is still early in my physical transition, and as someone who is not yet sure to which extend I wish to do a physical transition, I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask. But first of all, something that was very important to me was to detach the subject of presentation from the subject of identity. The reason why detaching the two was really important to me is because whether or not and to what degree I transition isn't what defines whether I'm a dude. I am transitioning to make myself more comfortable, but I am already a dude and there is no checklist of things I have to do to be valid as a dude. So it's for me less about looking the part and more about how I am viewed by myself and the people I care about. That part is more important to me than actually passing as a cis dude. Your motivation for transitioning should be that you want to look more or less a certain way, because if you feel like a dude then you already are a dude regardless of how you look and there's nothing specific you need to do to "become" a dude. The conclusion is that your presentation shouldn't be about proving your gender because in the right company you won't have to. Don't let anyone else dictate how you present yourself. That is entirely up to you and you are a dude if you say so either way. And yes, I am fanatically into plushies.

- Quinn

[talisman975]

When Camila and Beardo Philip go out together to buy baby items, they take turns picking out stuff. Camila has to help Beardo Philip since he's never been baby shopping before. Also, they have a checklist with them.

Camila: Philip, don't you think we have enough animal blankets in our cart already? 😅

Beardo Philip: (Is holding a cute horsie plush blankie) But Camila, love, look how cute this one is! I think our little angel would love it! We haven't used up all the space in our cart yet, so let's get it for her. (Makes an adorable pleading face) Please?

Camila: (Gives a playful roll of her eyes) Okay, fine. Toss it in.

Beardo Philip: (He lets out a giddy noise and excitedly places the plush blanket into the cart).

(The blanket, btw: https://www.amazon.com/Baby-Aves-Horse-Security-Blanket/dp/B07X3VZ2V9/ref=asc_df_B07X3VZ2V9/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=385216740158&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=18386057511621092216&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=m&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9007859&hvtargid=pla-846861727580&psc=1&mcid=3009ba939ce830158dd25264e6399577&tag=&ref=&adgrpid=80205191162&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvadid=385216740158&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=18386057511621092216&hvqmt=&hvdev=m&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9007859&hvtargid=pla-846861727580&gclid=Cj0KCQjwlN6wBhCcARIsAKZvD5j8q0mxQGqNoNv6Nag9FI2t4q_NsmmWYQOWlNVeFzxvQi-SAudThG4aAp4iEALw_wcB)

(enchantedchocolatebars)

@enchantedchocolatebars AAAAAAWWWWWW THATS A CUTE BLANKET