#do you. do you see the little pink squiggle. do you see it do you see it do you see it do you see it do y

[denzartriste]

Scene from @cyrenescreams's new superhero fic. He says pac has long hair and i HAD to compensate for Fit being bald by giving Pac long long lucious hair this isnt my fault okay

Bonus monochrome drawing of pac and mike under cut. They're besties your honour <3

I just had a funny though of the grease or whatever genuinly being a fashion choice from Pac and Mike being like "we are leaving the shop you Have to wash your face" and then proceed to not wait for an answer

ALSO DAMMIT IN THE FIRST DRAWING I FORGOT TO COLOUR PACS UNDER TANKTOP BLACK :((( I PROMISED MYSELF I WOULDNT FORGET BUT I DID :(((((!!!!

[buckyalpine]

Imagine Bucky always sees you doodling away in a little notebook you bring for meetings. You obviously take diligent notes but every so often you'll zone out, fully focused on a mindless drawing with you brows pinched together. Sometimes your tongue pokes out and Bucky finds it utterly adorable, especially when you think no one notices.

He's never actually seen what you draw in there. He assumes your book is filled with tiny flowers or smiley faces, maybe a few squiggles of nothing at all.

You had forgotten to take your book with you, running off for a hot bath after listening to Tony drone on about missions and the importance of updated technology. Bucky noticed the small pink book, smiling at the tiny daisies that decorated the front; your notebook was as adorable as you. He grabbed it along with his own things, making his way to your room to drop it off.

The book slipped onto the floor, landing open; he didn't think much of it, hardly scanning the pages as he picked it up.

Then he stopped.

He saw the first drawing.

Then another drawing catches his eye.

It couldn't be.

Then he saw that one.

His jeans suddenly become unbearably uncomfortable, the tightness almost painful. His cock is rock hard and he has no way of hiding it, swallowing thickly as he scans the page.

Maybe this wasn't your book.

He flips to the front and your name is right there with little hearts dotted all around it.

Fuck.

-

You dried your hair off and threw on some comfy clothes, foregoing a bra since you were going to relax in bed anyway. You noticed you'd forgotten your book, running over to the conference room before it fell into the wrong hands.

it wasn't there.

You huffed, walking back to your room, hoping maybe it was just misplaced instead of actually lost, not noticing someone walking in and clicking the lock shut.

"Looking for something?" Bucky casually walked into your room while you yelped, breathing out a sigh when you saw who it was.

"Hey Buck. Yeah, I can't find my note book, have you seen it?" You fidgeted with your fingers, eyes growing wide when you saw it in his hand. "Oh thank God, you found it!-

You reached out for it only to have Bucky snatch his hand away, holding it in the air out of each, a smirk growing on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up hoping he hadn't seen what was inside, pouting when he shook his head at your feeble attempts to get your book.

"Bucky, give it back!"

"What do you use this book for anyway?" He cocked his head while you squirmed, not noticing he'd backed you against the wall of your room, "Hm?"

"N-notes.." You mumbled while he hummed, not even bothering to hide the hardness between his legs. You could smell his cologne and something that was distinctly him with how close he was.

"Doll... is there something you want to tell me" His husky voice whispered in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

"N-no" you squeak out, absolutely mortified over what he saw, gasping when his flesh hand came to wrap around your throat.

"I think I saw something like this" He nipped your ear lobe, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, his metal hand coming down to toy with the waistband of your shorts before slipping in. You let out a breathless moan as his cold fingers teased your folds, rubbing your wetness around.

"Was that my hand you were drawing sweets? hm? all covered in those pretty juices? Is that what you want baby? You want my metal hand to be covered in your cream, my fingers shoved up this little pussy?"

"Please Bucky" You whined, practically grinding yourself onto his hand while he let out a dark chuckle, pushing two fingers deep into your pussy. You nearly buckled over, his arm holding you up as he started to pump in and out, soaking his hand.

"Shhh, You're not as innocent as you look, are you Bambi. Hmm, which drawing was that... it looked a little like.." He continued to tease you, curling and fucking you with his fingers while you shamelessly sobbed out of pleasure, whining when he pulled them out. "Just like this?"

Bucky smirked, letting your slick coat his fingers, strings of arousal clinging between each digit. He shoved them in his mouth, groaning a your taste, licking them clean before grabbing you and tossing you onto his bed, pulling his sweats down just enough to stroke his cock.

"Let's see if I can help inspire some other drawings"

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon Riley x Curly Haired Reader

universally applicable to any curly girly (who wears her hair natural) 😋 pure fluff beautiful beautiful image from @ave661

When you and Simon first started going out, he only ever saw you with straight hair - you were worried about spending the night with him in case he would see your natural hair after a shower, and find it ‘ugly’. It was silly, but it felt like your curls didn’t look like other curls, they were just… a mess. The first time Si saw your natural hair, he was immediately all over you, even though he’d only come round to pick up his phone. He got so distracted by you that he completely ‘forgot’ about the phone, and just had to visit you again the next day to get it.

Simon Riley who loves to sit and watch you doing your hair. If you two have to stay at a hotel for a special event, and he’s ready way before you (his military efficiency), he is very happy to sit on the bed and watch as you try to fix that one curl that won’t curl like the rest of your head. He has NO idea what you’re doing, like, completely clueless, but you look pretty doing it.

Simon Riley who genuinely thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You’re hot with curly hair, with straight hair, you’d be hot with no hair - he really doesn’t care, he just loves you. That said, he does secretly have a soft spot for your curly hair. Something about the volume and the aura it gives you is so perfect. That’s his girl.

Simon Riley who lets you buy hair products with his money. He doesn’t care, he likes to spoil you, and he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his 3-in-1 shampoo but he’s happy to indulge his pretty girl if it makes her happy.

Simon Riley who is GREAT at messing up your hair. It feels so nice and he always has to touch it, playing with a strand when you’re sitting on the sofa together or full on gripping it while you’re making out. He’s finally learnt that he can’t just rake his hands through it (once they actually got stuck) but that doesn’t stop him from constantly tucking your hair behind your ear or patting it when he has an arm around you .

Simon Riley who, failing that, loves to smell your hair. You tell him it’s weird but your products just smell so good!!! And they smell like you!! If you’re in the kitchen, he’ll hug you from behind, and (not so) secretly smell your hair as he mumbles something to you about something totally random or about how much he loves you. One or the other.

Simon Riley who hopes that your kids have curly hair just like their mummy. The idea of his girl carrying around a toddler with identical curly hair, in little pigtails or tiny braids, melts his heart. He’s a tough guy almost all of the time, he’d probably intimidate any other guy on the street by his size and general rough attitude but if you gave him a baby girl that looked just like you, he would be totally devoted. He’d even let her try to put pink hair clips in his short hair, or draw on his tattooed arms. The idea of watching you do your baby’s hair for them melts his heart.

Simon Riley with whom you once tried to do that cute couple thing where you draw each other, and though you did your best to make a realistic drawing of him, he drew you as a stick figure with loopy squiggles for hair and little hearts around you. He was really proud of it, too. Says he hopes your kids don’t inherit his artistic talent.

i don’t know how many cod girlies have curly hair but i do!!! i wish i had a man to buy me nice products tbh

[deezbignutz]

More Redacted hc bc why tf not, yknow :))))) (this is also to make up for not doing Brachium and Christian but u don't need to know that-)

One time during their early stages of dating, Angel found out about henna from Baaabe and wanted to surprise David with it some cool squiggles and flowers knowing damn well he would have a strong reaction to it. He did in fact have a strong reaction to it, and so did Angel when they realised they were highly allergic to one of the ingredients used in henna and was immediately brought to the hospital by a very worried David.

Asher has a knack for finding the most unsettling and disturbing facts and sending them to Milo because he doesn't need to know about it at all and gets pissed when Asher texts him in the middle of something important. (Also, fun fact! Camel's piss is as thick as syrup and it was thought to have medicinal properties, so people back then mixed it with camel milk and drink it. It did not have medicinal properties and didn't taste very good)

Gavin has a taser that is bedazzled in pink gems with text written on the front saying "Get tased, b*tch". He bought it for himself some time ago in case some perv got a little too comfortable without his consent.

Damien has a bad habit of chewing on his bottom lip when he's frustrated or zoning out, and he has done it so much that it old cuts bleed on its own even when he isn't biting it. This has led Huxley to buying lip ointments and lip balms for him and placing them in Damien's and his bags whenever they go out, he also has them littered around his home whenever he comes over, in the pockets of his clothes in case they don't bring their bags when going out, and one more he brings everywhere for back up.

Once Freelancer got Caelum a lego set for him to fiddle with while they were doing their coursework. The next day when he finally finished it, they watched in horror as Caelum destroyed the set so he could build it all over again, since he didn't understanding that once you build it, it's done.

Christian has a designer brand crescent cross body bag (it's not designer, he just likes saying it is because it's one of the only expensive things he owns), and because of this, Arden and Kelsey have lovingly named him an eshay (which is a stereotypically hypermasculine Australian man who are inclined to crime and violence, or basically just an annoying Aussie brat who's obsessed with masculinity/a chav) much to his chagrin.

Sweetheart has half empty cups and mugs scattered all over their room with most of the liquid in it drying up or turning into syrup from all the water evaporating. It hasn't gone so far as for mold to start appearing, but it's definitely getting there.

Porter has collected many little things that remind him of Treasure ever since he met them in that club, such as a surprisingly shiny penny from the ground, a cartoony key with a swirly heart on the end of it, a golden ring with hands on it that when worn looks like arms hugging your finger, and many other things that he keeps in his bedside table.

Darlin' and Sam write notes to each other and lay them around the house for each other to see when doing their normal routine. Like, Darlin' would be in the kitchen making their morning coffee and see a sticky note stuck on top of the coffee machine with some sappy shit like "Love you to bits, my Darlin'<3 P.S. Stop putting so many damn shots in your coffee, you're gonna get heart problems one of these days".

Hope y'all enjoy :)))))))

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :D)))))

[pedge-page]

Imagine baby Sarah getting paint all over the house and marker all over the walls and paint stains of her foot prints everywhere and reader gets emotional about the “art” and tries to convince Joel to keep the mess

Joel Dealing with Sarah - Art

- - - -

Joel never realized just how much damage and unsupervised 2 year old year old can do in 5 minutes. He was used to an immobile Sarah, whether that be needing carried everyone or just seeing how far she can crawl. But when she grew new able bodied lightening legs? It was a new level of parenting he didn’t fully think through.

 Art and colors were all the rage at this age. He has so many squiggly, scratched out, vomitous “art” pieces hanging on the fridge. And it didn’t matter what you wanted her to draw. her uncoordinated hands could only stab and streak across paper. And thus, Yellow streak was Spoon, blue streak was mom, and stabbed holes were Dad.

He had grabbed something very quickly in the kitchen before coming back to supervise the kid who was coloring with her fist and an upside down crayon on a very large sheet of paper. Only now, she was nowhere to be found. There were crayons and pencils and paper scattered all over the floor, but no baby. 

More horrifically, he did notice the box with all her art supplies was left opened, and the vacant spot that held her child-safe paint tubes were missing.

“Oh Shit.”

He’s checking behind the couch and then back into the kitchen in case he didn’t notice maybe she had followed her in there.

“Sarah,” he announces cautiously, but his voice echoes in the house.

He contines into the entry way when the first clue emerges: a bitty pink paint foot print.

“Oh Shit. Sarah!”

He runs up stairs, following the ever growing number of painted footprints left in her trail, and then splotches on the newly painted walls, fingers and smudged handprints like a multicolored serial killer following its injured victim up the stairs. 

“Shitshitshit,” he mumbles, putting his thumb to his tongue and trying to blotch it out quick. The paint was pretty damn un-eraseable with saliva alone.

“SARAH,” he booms more angrily. Nice daddy was on his way out, damned be your soft Mommy reaction.

The girl was getting spanked.

Finally rounding the corner to the master bedroom, he sees the little monster happily squiggling on his walls and she dances side to side. Her hair and face and clothes and skin were covered in paint, as if rolling her whole body along ever possible surface.

Hands on his hips, puffing steam through his ears, he opens his mouth.

The front door clicks open, and both Joel and Sarah’s ears perk up as your familiar footsteps enter the home.

“Oh my god!” You shout, undoubtedly noticing the horrendous streaks of paint all over your walls.

Sarah gets to her feet and barrels past Joel, hoping to see her Momma because FUCK this boring guy.

He smirks, knowing you’re gonna throw a fit. That THIS time Sarah and her behavior won’t slide, and you’ll take the fury out on her.

“Did you make art baby!” You shout excitedly as you finally see her waddle towards you. She coos giddily as you scoop her up. 

Joel frowns and makes his way to you. “Excuse me??”

“Oh hi Daddy.” You wave him off casually with a barely-kiss to the cheek. “Aww honey you got paint all over your hair little bean.” You kiss her forehead, all wrapped up in your arms and hanging off your hip. “Show momma what you made.”

You put her down and the two of you make your way past a very bewildered and near exploding Joel.

On your knees, Sarah directs you to her “artwork” all over the walls like an art gallery. She goes on with her gibberish words and you listen as intently as if it were English. 

He clears his throat. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m spanking her, right?”

You narrow your brows. “What?”

“Are you kidding me? What do you mean ‘what’.” He gestures to the destroyed walls. “I gotta repaint the whole house!”

“WHAT! Why would you do that???? We’re keeping it like this.”

He’s so ready to dunk you in time out too. 

“Joel its art—“

“This aint art—it’s a god damn mess! All over the walls? Baby, she can’t just do this.”

“But its her self expression, its probably one of the few ways we can try to understand her beauty— she could be a picasso when she grows up--"

“ITS SCRIBBLES. And she’s got it out for me,” he narrows his eyes to Sarah, scowling. “If you won’t let me discipline her—“

“She’s two--“

“Then at least let me make this house right.”

You cross your arms over your chest. Sarah looks up and does the same, minicking the disappointment on your face. 

“You never let us do anything fun,” you pout. “Always destroying things that make us happy.”

“Don’t you start on that,” he growls with a pointed finger. “She painted the walls, and she’s not allowed to do that.”

“If I painted the walls, would you tell me I can’t?”

He’s very tempted to say yes because you’d make a mess, but prevents the words from leaving his mouth. “No…”

Dignified, you announce: “Then I say my baby can paint the walls the way she wants.” 

He lets out a long, defeated sigh. “Staircase. Starcaise is only place she can have paint. I’m painting over everything else.”

You think it through, but nod. “Fine. And We will make it beautiful.”

He closes his eyes ask you and mini-boss version of you Sarah make your way, baby finger in your hand, out of the bedroom.

He lies down face forward in bed, and bites down on the pillow to muffle his shout.

-

The next day is Saturday. He had a project in the morning that helped distract him from the mess of his own home.

When he walks in, he’s immediately greeted with your bear hug.

He smiles and kisses your forehead. You’re covered in streaks of paint, some of which clearly wiped on your hair and lips without you realizing. 

“Keeping busy I see?” He chuckles.

“I think it’s coming along.”

True to your word, he’s impressed with the transformation. Once a plain beige, then a hodgepodge of paint, you had gone over and added creative detailing to the colors and mishap that Sarah had splotched over and made a unique design of flowers, suns, meadows and rivers, free flowing patterns and shapes that felt full of life and artistic workmanship, making the whole thing look intentional.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and admires the work. “You really know how to save that kid, don’t you?”

You nuzzle your face into his sweaty chest.

‘Speaking of, where is…?”

You widen your eyes and look around, forgetting that Sarah had abandoned her post of watching you. 

“Oh SHIT!” You shout, running down towards the living room.

Sarah had somehow gotten a fresh coating of paint all over the new dress you bought, and her poor victim today was helpless Spoon, who stares at you remorsefully. She is sitting quite obediently as Sarah splotches her little pink handprints on the dog’s head and back.

“Ankles weights,” Joel says plainly, observing with a little nod at the scene as you go to yell at Sarah about painting the damn dog. “How about baby ankle weights?”

"Order them now," you seethe, grabbing her hand and Spoon's collar and stomping off the the bath tub to get them clean.

Joel rolls his lips in circle motion, trying not to smile to himself.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[radio-fmm]

Law the muse

fluff drabble + gn reader

Masterlist

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Law was a workaholic, you knew this better than anyone. Since the dawn of time you had tried relentlessly to change his habits, worrying about his wellbeing and craving his presence and attention. Regardless, your good intentions had gotten you nowhere, so this is how now you find yourself tucked away at your special corner in Law’s office. A comfy sofa and a nightstand with a beautiful lamp and cozy pillows the doctor had put together for you to be alone together with him.

Suddenly, he has become very aware how you had been sketching away in your notebook for a while now, every now and then catching your gaze on his form and sometimes, when he disappeared from your field for vision, your pencil would stop and wait for him to position himself back on his desk. Curiosity gnaws at him as he sees you completely fixated on your work

“What are you doing?” his voice breaks your focus and makes your eyes jump and stare directly at his direction

“What do you mean?” Your attention diverts coming back to your task at hand, brows furrowed in complete concentration, an antic of yours the Captain always noted to be quite endearing

“You have been squiggling for quite a while now” his remark makes you hold the sketchbook closer to you, a strong pink blush sitting on your cheeks makes Law even more curious

Before you can even explain yourself, your dear sketchbook disappears from your lap in a swift move from Trafalgar’s hand, now appearing on his desk

“HEY!” In a hurry you scream and get up storming to his place saying something about privacy and betrayal, Law doesn’t register any of the things you’re saying as his eyes land on a beautiful drawing of him working at his desk

He is quite surprised by how well you had captured his essence and the noticeable knowledge of anatomy and lighting on the piece. Even though it was just pencil and paper, he couldn’t help but find it quite homely, your feeling of the scene bleeding through the work

He can’t help the sweet smile that forms on his lips, a strange warm feeling forming at the center of his being. He feels flattered and quite proud, his ego boosted by the way you perceive him and the cute little hearts you added at the side of the drawing

“Give it back you thief!” Was the last thing he heard before you snatched the sketchbook out of his grasp

“It’s amazing” Law stares at you with a softness you rarely got to see on him, one only reserved behind closed doors

Holding your sketchbook to your chest covering the drawing, you mumble a shy “Thanks”

“Didn’t know I was your muse” he teases after seeing your obvious fluster

Your face went from pink to red in an instant making Law laugh before he tries to take the sketchbook from your tight hold. You allowed him to set it on the desk again, defeated

“You’re really good, don’t know why you’re hiding this for me”

You look at your drawing and then finally meet his gaze “I just never had such a handsome model” you say trying to turn the dynamic around but failing, feeling even more fluster after a smirk plasters on his face

“Can I have it?”

“It’s not finished”

“It’s perfect just as it is” his words makes your heart flip, Law being the first person to ever acknowledge your talent, you nod sheepishly before his arms wrap around you, his head looking up at your flushed face

“Quite the talented artist I have here”

The next morning as you enter Laws office, coffee mug in hand, you can’t help but feel so loved after spotting your drawing framed on his desk

[dellalyra]

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙮

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ

A/N: hello it is i pixie emerged from hibernation to drop you this month late extra of our favourite family and then crawl back into my lair.

cw: the usual swearing, mentions of sexism, menstruation and female reproductive system, suggestive ending.

“No way! See I heard it had something to do with that little twerp from the Zen’in clan. Navel - or nacho or whatever the fuck his name is.”

“Ugh - why does that not even surprise me. He’s such a shithead, like you should have seen the look on his face when my mom interjected at a Jujutsu higher ups event she muscled her way into. Honestly it’s gotta be like - microscopic. Oh and it’s Navel now - never using Naoya again.”

Shoko and you had just been out on a girls day out, just the two of you - a visit to the arcade, lunch, some shopping and an exhibition on the human body. It had to be done, girl time was integral to maintaining a sense of sanity when the other 50% of the friend group was G.S squared.

The gossip had continued back to the dorms, where you both stood holding bags of snacks and the days haul while you put in the key code.

The door swung open and there stood Satoru Gojo, and Suguru Geto - both decked in pink party hats and shouting ‘surprise!’ (okay, gojo was shouting - geto was just saying).

“Jesus Christ!”

“What the fuck?!”

The camaraderie that came from the jumpscare resulted in Shoko and you both swearing and jumping in surprise at the sudden appearance.

Before either of you could react any further to it, long arms still a bit unaware of his strength, tug you both into a bonecrushing hug.

Shoko twists Satoru’s nipple through his shirt so he shrieks and lets you both you (you hide your disappointment).

You look at Geto, who winks with a devilish smirk and turn to the wall where the table is laid out with both you and Shoko’s favourites and a giant handmade poster on the wall with “Happy International Women’s Day” in large bubble writing.

Suddenly the confused silence was broken as a cheerful voice started singing, and was then accompanied by a louder Satoru.

“Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you, Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you! Happy InternationalWomen’sDay Shoko and Y/N, Happy InternationalWomen’sDay to you!” echoed with far too many syllables in the tune of ‘happy birthday’ across the room as Haibara emerged from the kitchen, with a strange red blob shaped cake in his hands followed by a very unhappy looking Nanami Kento.

The cake was placed on the table as you and Shoko looked at it in confusion - it was a red colour frosting on a cake shaped like a weird triangle with two squiggles coming from the sides joined to two cupcakes. For the life of you - and Shoko too if the look on her face was anything to go by - you had no idea what the cake was meant to be.

Suguru’s smirk was unnerving as he looked between you both.

“Shoko-senpai and Y/N-senpai! So strong, and powerful, and clever and pretty! Not that being pretty is important for being a woman - it’s just a bonus - not that it’s not great that you’re pretty, because it is, like it’s amazing! If I was into girls I’d definitely be into you both! But it’s not what makes you amazing!” Haibara says, clapping his hands.

“The strongest, most powerful, clever and cunning and most beautiful girls! We couldn’t do any of this without you. Well, I could -” Satoru starts.

“Satoru.” Geto warns.

“Okay, maybe I sometimes need backup and you girls are definitely the best choices after Suguru!” He finishes.

“That was barely complimentary.” Nanami scowls.

“We love and respect you both!” Satoru says.

“Some love you more than others…” Suguru smirks.

“Equally! Equally! We love you all equally and in a very friendly, respectful, and caring way!” Satoru says, kicking Suguru’s shin.

This whole time, you and Shoko had just been staring between them all.

“What the fuck…” Shoko whispers.

“Ditto…” You pipe in.

Satoru pops pink party poppers in both your faces and then Suguru uses the distraction to place a party hat on both your heads.

“Shoko - you save our asses, sometimes literally on an almost daily basis. Your no nonsense attitude and ability to care for us all and unflappable nature is a core reason we’re all here and we would be lost without you. You’re also underhandedly funny, and we’re very thankful to have you in our lives.” Suguru says, smooth and steady as always, and elbows a fidgeting Satoru.

“Y/N! You - are so awesome! You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and you make sure we’re all safe and strong and it’s so cool when you kick ass and I love exorcising with you - and your cursed technique is so cool and you work so hard and I don’t really respect many people but I definitely respect you! You’re also beautiful but that’s not important - not that you’re not like, importantly pretty! Because I think it’s very important that everyone knows you’re so pretty!” Came a gushing scramble of words from the usually overconfident Satoru - because complimenting the one person who has ever made him nervous was a bit of a shock to the system of the Honoured One.

For a moment, you and Shoko just stood in bewildered silence - still holding hands from when you walked in.

Before you look at each other, and simultaneously double over in hysterical laughter - clutching onto each other for support.

“This was so fucking strange, but I love it - we love it. Thank you boys, for this. It’s really appreciated.”

“That’s because we - appreciate you!” Gojo says, pointing between the four boys.

You hug all the boys, while Shoko inspects the cake on the table.

“Is this a Magikarp or something?” She asks, head tilted as she examines the red blob.

“It’s a uterus!” Haibara exclaims.

After trying to figure it out - the cupcakes where the ovaries should be and the triangle the uterus itself… it makes slightly more sense - but maybe International Women’s Day would be spent with an anatomy lesson from Shoko.

“Kid, listen - today we are going to be extra respectful of our girls, yeah?” Satoru says, opening the bag of pastries he had bought for breakfast the night before after Megumi talked him out of attempting to make pancakes. Megumi nodded, and placed the two bouquets of flowers on the two chairs his mom and sister usually sat in.

“They’re both very, very important to us. Sometimes, kid - the world is really shit for girls. A lot more than it is for us. Things that might be a bit difficult for us - not for me, but others - would be really hard for girls.”

“Periods.” Megumi grimaces, but nods solemnly.

“Yeah. But other things too. Like sometimes girls get less money for the same jobs, and people try to tell them how to look or how to act - or, no joke, tell them what they can do with their own body! Even simple stuff, like sometimes it’s dangerous for girls to go certain places, or people might expect less from them just because they’re girls.”

“Even for Mama?” Megumi asks, confused because from his perspective, the woman who has raised him the past 2 years is the most powerful (second to Gojo, but don’t tell him that) and formidable person he knows, and the kindest and funniest.

"Sometimes especially for her. Y/N is really strong, yeah?" Gojo asks, taking out a jug of juice and placing it on the table, before scribbling on one of your cinnimaroll post it notes and sticking it on the jug.

"Yeah." Megumi nods.

"Do you think that's scary?" Gojo asks.

"I think it's cool." The boy shrugs.

"Some men don't. They think she doesn't deserve it, or she is too weak to hold such a power - did you know your mama had more disciplinary meetings at school than I did?" Gojo says as he switches the kettle on.

"Why? Yaga-san said you were a nightmare student." Megumi is shocked at the thought.

"I was. But what's the difference between me and your mom?" Gojo says, pulling down 4 mugs. One with two puppies, one with the Winx Club characters on it, another with ‘Daddy Cool’ in big obnoxious yellow writing and the last with the BTS logo in purple.

"She isn't annoying."

"Okay, rude."

"She's a girl."

"Yep. That's why. Your - your Uncle Suguru was special grade too - and he and I did some crazy shit - and we got slaps on the wrist mostly, but your mom was late with a mission report one time because she was sick and they gave her extra work for a month. Aunty Koko too."

"But why?"

"Because weak men fear powerful women."

"That's dumb."

"Super dumb."

“Something girls in my class get notes sent home even though they didn’t do anything really bad.” Megumi scowls.

“That’s why we gotta fight to make sure we’re not part of the problem, and stop boys who are.” Satoru says, placing the heated pastries on the table.

“Like fighting them?”

“Sometimes they’re not even worth the effort, kid. Just stick up for girls and never treat them as anything less than a boy - okay? There’s shit girls deal with that we will never go through or understand.”

“Oh, like the stuff you and mama talked about with the girls my age in the Zen’in clan?”

“Your cousins, yeah.”

“And why the higher ups are dicks to mama’s family?”

“Exactly! You’re so smart you have to have gotten it from me.” Gojo smiles, hands on hips in his frilly apron.

“That’s not even possible.”

“Yes it is, I made it possible.” Satoru’s just winding the 9 year old up at this point.

“You’re impossible.” Megumi growls.

“Your hair’s impossible!” Satoru blows a raspberry.

“A slow start to the day is impossible, apparently.” Came your voice from where you stood leaning against the archway to the kitchen, a sleepy smile on your face in your fluffy blue robe and bunny slippers. Tsumiki padded up behind you, much brighter and a definite morning person.

“Happy international women’s day, my amazing girlie pops!” Satoru claps and scoops you both into the air with ease, giggles resounding through the room.

Megumi just scrunches his nose, staring bewildered at where the man gets his energy.

“Thank you, ‘Toru. You’re very sweet to do this.” You kiss him with a smile and walk to sit down at the table.

“Not as sweet as that a-” Satoru starts, but is swiftly cut off my Megumi’s disgusted groan, unable for his guardians flirting just yet.

You sit down and sniff the bouquet on your chair, delighting in the assortment of your favourite flowers, as Tsumiki does the same beside you.

“Happy women’s day, mama and Tsumiki.” Megumi nods, quiet but clear.

“Thanks, ‘gumi!” Tsumiki smiles, ruffling her younger brother’s spiky black hair.

“Thanks, sweet boy.” You wink at him.

As you go to pour yourself some juice, you can’t stop the giggle at the stick note on the carton.

‘Respect Women Juice’

“Yo, mini-me, did you grab the Doriyaki on the way home?” A 44 year old Satoru asks his 17 year old son who’s entering the kitchen.

“Yeah, I got extra too because ‘Rai’s been crabby so I think she’s due shark week.” The boy says, snatching a mochi from the box before Satoru could.

“Your mom too…” Satoru’s head turns sharply.

“Oh shit.”

“It’s happened…”

“We can do this - dad.” His son says with a straight, serious face as they both examine the calender.

“We just gotta be the best husband, son and brother ever.” Satoru nods.

“Well… that won’t be hard.” Akio smirks, only 2 inches shorter than his dad and growing.

“Of course it won’t. We’re the strongest.” Satoru says, doing his ridiculously intricate secret handshake with his son.

A moment later, two sets of feet pad down the stairs.

43 year old you and your 14 year old daughter walk into the room, your arms snugly wrapped around your little girl’s shoulders.

You knew what to expect on March 8th every year by now, it had been 25 years of it.

“Happy international women’s day, my incredible wife and mind blowing daughter.” Satoru says with a smile and open arms spanning half the kitchen.

“25 years of this and it still gives me butterflies, thank you ‘Toru.” You say, pressing a kiss to your husbands jaw by dragging his collar down to meet you.

“Thanks dad, thanks ‘Kio!” Mirai claps and hugs them both.

“Thank you, mochi.” You say, also dragging your too-tall son’s collar down to press a kiss to his cheek.

As you all sit down to breakfast, and chatter aimlessly, Satoru pulls you to sit on his lap as always.

“Oh, ‘Rai, I’m gonna go into the mall to pick up my new Nikes too - do you want to come?” Akio says, and even though this is a regular occurrence - it warms your heart every time to see that your two babies aren’t only siblings, but also best friends - genuinely enjoying each other’s company and actively seeking each other out. Something tells you that will never change, either.

“Sounds good, do you still want to try that new boba place? The one with the cat logo?” Mirai says, googling the opening times and showing it to her brother.

“Bring me back a brown sugar milk tea?” You plead, the same look on your face as when 17 year old you got excited for boba dates with Satoru.

“Course, Mama. Papa, do you want one?” Mirai asks, her long snowy white hair bushy and wild from bed head inherited from you.

Satoru smiles, hand rubbing circles against your hip as Mirai types his order into her notes.

“Is Aunty Koko still coming over tonight?” Akio asks, looking up at you with eyes just like his father’s.

“She is, I think Uncle Cho too. I was thinking we’d order pizza.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, mom - you actually have mind reading technique I swear.” He pats your head as if you weren’t his mother.

The two kids wander to get dressed, leaving you still sipping coffee curled against your husbands broad chest.

Your phone dings with a notification from the family group chat, and Satoru nudges you to open it.

A selfie, clearly taken by Yuuji, face scarred and older but beaming expression unchanged - featuring a taller, sharper 31 year old Megumi with a toddler in each arm, looking out over the ocean at sunset.

“They seem bigger every time I see them.” Satoru laughs.

“The twins or Yuuji and Megs?” You giggle.

“Both. Still can’t believe ‘Gumi had the audacity to grow up so much. I specifically told him to stop.”

“Eh? Satoru - imagine how I feel! Both our sons are at least a foot taller than me! Try talking to a kid when you need a step stool to look them in the eye!” You poke his cheek.

“Nawh, poor baby. You’re as pocket sized as the day I met that pretty girl holding a ladybug waiting for introduction at Jujutsu Tech. Gonna carry you around in my pocket.” Your husband teases, squishing your frowning cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah - alright daddy long legs.”

“Seriously though - we should take another trip to Malaysia, get Cho to stay with the kids. We can ask the boys where they stayed, looks pretty as hell.”

“Let’s do it, pretty boy.” You kiss the corner of his lips.

“You know… the kids are gone all afternoon…” He says, large hands squeezing your waist.

“They are… and it just so happens I just bought something very, very pretty to try on.” You raise an eyebrow, biting your lip.

“Oh? A private fashion show?” He says, thumb on your lower lip.

“Just for my ‘Toru.”

“Invite really fuckin’ accepted, princess.”

[kisscara]

O5. madam faruzan who? [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series

you nervously fidget with your drumsticks, a coy smile on your lips as scaramouche talks to kaeya. yanfei taps your shoulder and whispers, "whenever you're ready." you rapidly nod and attempt to ease your nerves by relaxing your tense shoulders. but what if you're never ready?

you've performed in front of countless people, why can't you do the same for one guy? well, technically a group of three but you don't mind what kaeya and yanfei think. just him and him alone. you turn to yanfei, "um-" you recoil when the mic by your mouth suddenly makes a deafening squeal.

scaramouche pinches his temple, "kaeya, did you or did you not test the equipment?" kaeya puts his hands up in defense, "hey, i thought that was yanfei's job." scaramouche argues as kaeya makes his way up the stage, "her job is to set it up and yours is to test it! immature dickhead..."

kaeya sighs while wiping a hand over his face, "he can be such a pain in the ass, how could you even play along with this, (name)?" you look up at him and frown. does everyone really see scaramouche in this bad light? maybe they just need to get to know him more to take a liking to him.

kaeya gives the mic a few taps and speaks into it. "this good enough for you, mister moody?" kaeya chuckles when scaramouche gives him a deathly glare. "alright, you should be all good to go. oh and," kaeya looks at you while heading back down the steps. "try not to screw up, scaramouche can get real mad at that."

you felt yourself shatter like a clay statue hitting the floor. "oh, shut it, kaeya!" yanfei growls, knitting her brows together in frustration. she shakes her head, "don't listen to him, (name)... (name)?" your hands are shaking, causing your drumsticks to waver.

"i'm going to die today-"

"no, you won't," yanfei rolls her eyes at your dramatic act and firmly says, "you got this." you take a deep breath in and another one out. "yeah, i do. i'm ready now." you adjust your posture and sit more upright on your drum throne. scaramouche's eyes carefully scan you.

his lips form an anxious squiggle, 'they look so cool... i've always watched them on my phone or from afar but this is the real deal.' scaramouche places a hand on his chest, hoping to calm his rapid heartbeat.

as the song starts through the speakers, you begin the intro's drum riff only to be stopped by scaramouche's voice. yanfei stops the music and you tighten your grip. did you mess up already?

"is it possible if," he looks away, covering the pink tint on his face. "you could cover the vocals too?"

you gasp and beam, "yeah! i mean, yes, i could totally do that!" scaramouche clears his throat and nods, "my apologies for interrupting. you can play now." yanfei gives you a playful smirk and you smile back at her.

the music starts up again and you start drumming without a disruption unlike before. you never sang while performing, except for little background lines yun jin made you and the other members do as she led the performance per usual. but singing and drumming at the same time made you feel content.

だって本当は crazy, 白鳥たちはそう

it's like your voice was made for this specific song. everything was going well and fitting into place. scaramouche couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire time. he swore he couldn't even blink, feeling as if he would miss something groundbreaking should he look away.

見えないとこでバタ足するんです

kaeya examines scaramouche's dazed state. "he's out of it," he mutters in amusement. yanfei proudly hugs her tablet to her torso, smiling as you finally gather the courage you desperately needed for this moment.

本能に従順忠実 翻弄も重々承知 前途洋々だし⋯ だからたまに休憩しちゃうんです

sweat covers your forehead in a glistening sweat as you have the chance to rest your voice, since this part of the song is just silence filled with the instruments. your eyes avert towards the clear blue sky and then scaramouche. the two of you lock gazes.

like you do with your usual crowd when performing, you give him your signature wink along with a grin out of habit. oh, dear... he nearly passed out on the spot. with the final crash of your cymbals and banging of your drums, you finish off without a single flaw in your performance.

you're reminded of the first time you performed like this, in front of a small audience of three. those three being ayaka, her big brother who was always like your own, ayato, and their mother. they always supported your passion for drums and ayato was the one who gifted you your drum set.

you'd never forget him. he's living the high life in university at the moment, bound to graduate with a doctorate degree... more on him later. your current situation at hand is much more important!

a deafening silence is booming through the outdoors, accompanied by the peaceful songs the birds share along with the calm gusts of wind. you slowly pant, chest bobbing up and down as you exhale, "how was it?" yanfei and kaeya look over to scaramouche.

scaramouche lifts his head, his indigo hair framing his beautiful features. the way he looks at you with such confidence, a striking and powerful glare; it's no wonder you have no idea how much he so admires you. he opens his mouth and three words fall from his lips.

"it wasn't bad."

boom.

those words alone were enough to make your heart jump all over the place, your cheeks to heaten and your eyes to brighten. you exclaim, "really!?" from the surge of excitement, you instantly stand up, causing your snare drum to fall over. you quickly prop it back up and rush down the stage.

'oh, they're approaching me, they're approaching, they're approaching-' scaramouche's mind is in a jumble as you hold both of his hands in yours. his head explodes. not literally, i sure hope not. but explode... like the way a train releases puffs of smoke and steam from their cylinders going, 'choo, choo!'

yeah, that perfectly describes how he feels as you sweetly say, "i look forward to working with you on the school festival, president!"

yanfei and kaeya stifle their laughs. they saw scaramouche's, 'it wasn't bad,' as a complete disappointment for you, but you, you saw all of the good in it. that's all you needed to confirm that scaramouche indeed, has his unseen sweet side. yanfei sighs, "i'm glad it all worked out."

kaeya smugly adds, "i think president has a lil' crush, don't you think?" the two are lucky their conversation is out of scaramouche's earshot. yanfei pauses and watches as scaramouche stammers out words to you with a red complexion. you, being as dense as you are, mistaken it for him being startled by your sudden arrival.

yanfei squints her eyes and her jaw nearly drops in realization. only a fool wouldn't notice the obvious admiration you and scaramouche mutually hold for each other. how come she didn't see it before? the obvious mood change of scaramouche's and his somewhat kinder demeanor surely have a part in this.

"what? scaramouche, like me?" you ask, a brow raised as you look at yanfei. she nods, completely serious. you sputter and resort to laughing. "yeah, you almost got me there, 'fei! but i believe with a little more time and effort," you ball your fists up in determination, "i'll be his and he'll be mine in no time!"

you and the rest of the student council are at a family restaurant, under kaeya's suggestion after all the hard work they did and surprisingly, scaramouche agreed. yanfei waves her finger and closes her eyes, "no, no, (name), listen closely. i think he likes you-"

her eyelids lift as she sees scaramouche boasting about how hard it is to keep everyone in line as a president and you repeatedly comment him on his dedication to his role. yanfei deadpans, "such lovesick idiots..."

your phone vibrates in your pocket and you take it out, however you froze up the second you saw the text.

tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @loverhole @star583 @soobasaur @aeongiies @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @aaeng121 @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @kur44pika

taglist is now closed as i've reached the max tags in a single post. (50/50 tags occupied + officially removed users whose names aren't linked)

what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!

© kisscara

[welcome-back-to-hoimycraf]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAI!!!!!!!

i decided to write you a little something for your birthday!! i hope you enjoy this little tumblr exclusive <333333 @kaihuntrr

"The party has arrived!" Martyn announced as he swung open the door to Scott's apartment, brandishing his big bags of halloween candy in both hands like trophies.

His boyfriend snickered at him from his place behind the counter, surrounded by open bags of flour, dirty mixing bowls, and various baking tools. "The party doesn't start for an hour and a half, hun, who're you trying to impress?"

Martyn gasped dramatically, pressing a candy bag-filled hand to his chest as he walked over. "How dare you! The guests can feel my pure charisma and charm from their houses, I'm sure of it!"

Scott rolled his eyes fondly. "Yeah, yeah, candy bowl's over there," he nodded in the direction of a tacky halloween-themed bowl. It was even decked out with a mechanical hand to grab at you when you reached in.

"You're lucky you look so good in an apron, else I would've dumped you by now," Martyn teased, bumping their hips together on his way past. Scott huffed slightly, yet the upturned corners of his lips gave him away.

The bags of sweets were soon dumped into their proper place, with only a few stolen and pocketed for Martyn to munch on while party prepping. "Anything I can do?" He checked, doing his best to speak through the chocolate and peanut butter in his mouth. 

"Yeah- could you come over and help finish with the cupcakes?" Scott leaned back, revealing the pink-frosted "brain" cupcakes he'd been decorating. The icing had been squiggled over the tops of the cupcakes to resemble the pattern of a brain, which Martyn was impressed by- he surely couldn't do that. 

"Sure thing, boss man! Whatcha need?" He stepped over, taking the piping bag Scott held out to him.

"I kinda want them to have a bloody sheen to them- could you drizzle them with some jam in that piping bag?" 

"On it!" Martyn saluted, which Scott awarded with a giggle.

And with that, Scott headed to the sink to handle the ever-growing dish pile. The job Martyn had been given was simple, but when had he ever been one to let things stay simple? 

Scott jumped at the sudden loud groan behind him, glancing over to find Martyn dripping red.

"AUGHH- I'M BLEEDING OUT, SCOTT! BLEHHH!" He made a whole show of the jam he'd piped onto his forehead, waving his hands around wildly. 

"Martyn, that is jam." Scott rolled his eyes again, though his hearty laugh reassured that it was all in good fun.

Martyn drew out another groan. "Don't be such a party pooper! On my birthday? Ruining the party of a little birthday boy?" He whined.

Scott barked out a laugh at that. "It's not your birthday- what do you mean?"

Martyn huffed, crossing his arms. Jam continued to drip from his face. “Little do you know that it’s always my birthday. At least, that’s what my three hundred and sixty-six fake IDs say."

"Why do you need a three hundred and sixty-sixth one? There's only three hundred and sixty-five days in the year," Scott decided to indulge him, focusing back on the monster of dishes.

"Leap days!" Martyn supplied happily.

Scott opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off. "Also, I've got one for my drag persona, Marie Underwood."

Scott dissolved into laughter, which Martyn patted himself on the back for. "Well now I need to see one of your drag shows," his boyfriend chuckled once he'd composed himself.

Martyn shook his head. "Only Ren's allowed to come to them, unless you wanna pick up the craft?" He hummed.

Scott rolled his eyes, wiping his hands and walking over. He reached up to wipe some jam away from the corner of Martyn's lips, licking it off his thumb. Martyn swallowed hard. "You're lucky you're so sweet." He cooed, giggling at martyn's expression when the man realized he'd used his own joke against him.

Martyn frowned, leaning in for a kiss as retribution. It was playful, a promise for so, so many more bad jokes to come.

Scotr pulled back first, patting Martyn on the shoulder. "Alright, back to work!"

credit for the drag queen/multiple ids jokes to @deityoftherain!!! my bestest westest fwiend <333

[jarofstyles]

Dadrry and missus making Christmas cookies with their kid please please please

Hm. I think we can do that 🫶🎄

Check out our Patreon!

-

“That’s a very beautiful…” Harry looked over to Y/N for help as he tried to distinguish what it was that his son had made on the cookie.

“Snowman.” Y/N mouthed to him to save him. She wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t been babble singing the Frosty song. It did clash with the Christmas music playlist they had playing in the back but she didn’t mind. He seemed to take after Harry in the singing a song in his head, more particularly one place of the son, over and over again.

“A snowman! Wow. The blue top hat… red snow… what beautifully artistic choices.” He kissed the top of his curls before bringing a wet cloth to his face. It was covered in smears of icing, his little apron even worse. Sitting in the booster seat, his tongue was out in concentration as he used the piping bag the best he could.

“He is cool.” The boy chirped, making a messy squiggle on the top hat. “He is one of the snowman’s that come to life and he makes bikes. He rides it in the towns.” The matter of fact tone of his child made Harry chuckle, taking his seat next to him as Y/N slid over the paper plate with a few blank cookies she had cut out.

“Mm. I can see that. He’s very cool, bug.” Harry took two of the clean piping bags and held up the colors to his son. “Should we do white or blue for the snowflakes? What looks more cool?” He always liked having him involved in decisions. Making sure he knew his opinion and thoughts were valid with them.

He stopped his own piping back and scrunched his little nose, looking between the colors. It took a moment before his eyes fell to the pink bag nearly in line after Y/N had wiped them clean from his sticky fingers. “I think… pink. Pink cause… cause mommy says pink is cool for everyone n’it isn’t only for girls and we can use pink cause it’s pretty.” He nodded very seriously.

“Mommy is very correct. Colors aren’t for anyone in particular. Anyone can enjoy them.” He shot his wife a sink, nudging her foot under the table for a job well done. “So we want to do pink snowflakes? We can. I doubt they’ll look as good as your mom’s but… we can try.”

Y/N was good at cookie and cake decorating, always able to make it look pleasing to the eye. Harry? He wasn’t so gifted. It was the basics for him otherwise it turned into a mash of color.

“Pink snow! Pink snow! Pink snow!” Their child giggled as he grabbed one of the other cookies that was covered with mostly pink icing and handed it to Harry, not minding icing getting on his hands at all. “See? We did pink angel. Mommy helped.” He could tell from the little smile face and easily controlled halo and wings that he had done the base and Y/N added the details.

“Oh, wow! Look at that.” He raised his brow and looked at Y/N who smiled to herself as she finished her cookie.

“You and mommy are so talented. A pink angel. Who would have thought. I’m very impressed, bug. You’ll have to show me your creative process.”

“He is a mastermind.” Y/N hummed. “Very creative. Christmas cookies are always delicious but he helped with everything while you were working. He put the cookie cutters in and helped roll the dough with his own rolling pin.” She was doing the obvious parent brag that the baby couldn’t quite pick up on yet.

“I am a natural.” He said proudly, beaming with his little dimples and eyes he got from Harry. “Mommy said so. She said I cut the cookies out so good that the chef on the tv would be so jealous.”

“I bet he would be, little love.” Harry chuckled. “I sure am. You’ll have to teach me. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy. I will help.” He chirped in that childlike what that made it all seem so simple. “But you gotta practice, practice, practice. Member? You said it when- when I was learning the ABC song. You gotta.”

“Of course. I always remember. We will make some more tomorrow. If we have anything else in the oven now I think your Mumma will be too tired to have hot cocoa. And we don’t want that, do we?”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Pomni x reader who likes giving her face kisses? (Bonus points if she leaves lipstick marks on her)

Reader leaving kiss marks on pomnis face!

Feeling a little weird today and I gotta admit, I dont feel like writing much today (or really do anything) buuuut I know ill feel bad if I don't get any work done <\3 requests are still gonna be slow due to this + other stuff

Oh she gets so so red in the face when you pull her close to you for a kiss

Like I'm talking pink enough that you cant see those pink circles on her cheeks

Gets all wide eyed when you do it too

Mix of surprise and generally being overwhelmed by feelings and love(?)

Doesnt matter how often you do this or if shes already gotten used to your affections, shes always going to have that look on her face

Sometimes shes so lost in it that she wont realize you've left marks on her face, so she may or may not walk around for a while with the smudged makeup all over her... you're definitely going to need to tell her, before someone else does

Does that lil wobbly walk after you're done peppering her face

You know what? We're applying the cartoon stuff. I like to think her mouth comes up in a squiggled smile

She looks like that one charle brown gif

Well I was gonna put it but I cant find it so I'm hoping you guys know what I mean

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hii dear 💗 i was wondering if you could write a birthday blurb with tangerine or pietro (i think you already have one with tangerine? but id love another one lol) my bday is next wednesday (22nd) and just wanted to see a little fluff and cuteness lmao

thank you sm🫶

hii honey!! happy happy birthday, hope you have lovely day💓!! I did pietro, so then you can have both😭 thank your for requesting, hope you like it💌 link for tan bday fic

couldn’t decide if I should post it a few days earlier or today, but waited for today so it’ll feel special

BIRTHDAY

pietro maximoff x female reader

word count. 542

Pietro is always the type of guy to make a fuss about an occasion, to make a big deal over a special event. That was no different when it came to you. When your birthday rolled around, he'd spent the upcoming weeks brainstorming ideas and activities to celebrate your big day, picking out things you would like.

He'd get into your head from afar, planning a schedule late at night on his sofa, thinking of ways to make you feel admired, thinking of ways he knows you'd appreciate. Often, he'd come up empty, not because he didn't know you, but because thinking and planning isn't something that comes easy to him. He's more of a do-first, think-later guy.

With your birthday soon approaching, he felt scrambled trying to muster a plan, so instead, he decided to call his sister, asking for her input. He called her one afternoon while she was baking with her boys, phone wedged between shoulder and ear as she tried to separate the soon-to-be chocolate fight between her kids. She briefly gave him a few ideas, nudging him in the right direction - steering him away from the water park idea he had.

After the call, he was still clueless with the minimal help he got from his preoccupied sister. He thought back to the phone call, thinking about baked goods, and that's when he had the idea to bake for you. He knew you'd appreciate something homemade - something made with love, even though the outcome was likely to be horrific. 

The day before your birthday came around, which is when Pietro chose to get the bakes done. He spent the day baking cakes to the youtube tutorial that played on in the background, following the instructions to make the three-tiered heart cake. When it cooled, Pietro iced it -poorly- in colours he knew you'd like: light pinks and pale blues before decorating it with an abundance of sprinkles and even more piping.

Afterwards, he packed it in a box, tying a ribbon around it and wedging a handwritten Sokiovian note into the knot. He put it aside and began to ice the massive cookie he had baked earlier - piping squiggles around the edge and writing out a funny and juvenile word in the middle that he couldn't stop himself from.

Your special day came around, and in the morning, when he first awoke, Pietro sent you a paragraph of things he loves about you - ways he appreciates and cherishes you. He finished the text by telling you he'd be over soon with breakfast and gifts.

He got ready as fast as possible, wanting to spend more time with you on your special day, so he dressed himself in whatever loungewear he had hanging about - whatever was closest to him. He packed his overnight bag, throwing in an outfit for dinner tonight and something to sleep in. He then loaded his car, filling it with gifts, balloons, and surprises, carefully placing your cakes in the passenger seat. 

On the way to you, he picked up breakfast and coffee to fuel and prep you for the day ahead, wanting to make the most of your birthday - to make it as special as he could.

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

the cakes I had in mind:

[agere-fics]

Rainbows

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

word count: 500

pairing: caregiver!mama!Loki x little!reader

(loki uses she/her here ☺️)

summary: your mama helps you pick out your first ever pacifier.

cws: none that i can think of except for tooth rotting fluff! please let me know if something needs to be listed. /gen

a/n: hi guys! long time no see! i've been reading some neil gaiman books recently and it's been inspiring me.

♡

"Alright darling," Mama gestured to the coffee table in front of her that was absolutely full of pacifiers. "All of your options are right here."

There were greens and blues and purples. Reds, and oranges, pinks and yellows, too. Some of the pacis had polka dots and some were plain. A few had pretty decorations. Some even had rainbow squiggles, too!

It was a wonderful sea of colors that captured your little mind. Nothing else mattered. Just you and Mama and...

THE ARRAY OF PACIFIERS SHE MADE APPEAR OUT OF THIN AIR!

You still couldn't believe it...

How did Mama do that?!

"Spark?"

Your wide eyes moved towards the sound of Mama's voice.

"Honed in on the pacifiers, are we?" Loki chuckled.

"Mhm!"

You liked the sparkle in Mama's eyes. It reminded you of bright, shining stars and the twinkle lights in your bedroom. It meant she was happy, and you liked when your Mama was happy.

"Which of these lovely pacifiers makes you want to squeaaaal in delight?" Your mama suddenly tickled you while she spoke, enunciating her words.

You giggled and giggled.

And giggled and giggled some more.

"I don't-" you stopped and let out a breathy laugh. "Don knoooow, mama! Too hard!"

Your mama finally relented. "Ooh, I understand that. When I ascended the throne to Asgard, I had to choose between allllll of these wonderfully colorful garments and jewelry I-"

You stared at Loki, your lips slightly ajar and your brows furrowed tightly. Your adorable face blatantly had confusion written all over it.

Your mama shook her head softly. "Nevermind that, moving on! Let's see here..." Her eyes scanned the pacifier filled coffee table. "How about this one here, with the cute little turtle on it?"

You shook your head and scrunched your face.

"No? Alright...hmmm." She paused a moment to think. "Oh! How about this one with the-"

You stuck out your tongue. "Blagghhh."

"No problem, darling." Loki threw it swiftly behind her. "Definitely not that one, then- OH!"

Your beautiful eyes were wide and practically glowing. If life was a cartoon, you'd have hearts for eyes.

"OoOooOOO!" you exclaimed in intrigue.

The pacifier with which your eyes were glued on had your favorite animal on it and it was your favorite color! It was so very, very perfect.

"Aha! We've found your match, baby darling." She held it up closer to you. All you could do was stare in amazement.

Finally, a pacifier to call your own. One that'll make you feel content and happy. One that'll make you feel like the most special baby in the whole wide world. No! The universe! A special pacifier for the most special baby in the whole wide universe!

"Mine!" You snatched it and all your Mama could do was grin excitedly.

"Yes, pumpkin, it's all yours."

You quickly slid it into your mouth and slammed your body against Loki, wrapping your arms tightly around her. Your words were less English and more like cute mumbles that Mama just adored. "Thank you, thank you, Mama!"

She laid her head gently atop yours. "Anything for my little one."

♡

[describe-things]

Hello do you have any guides/tips for writing image descriptions, I’m always at a loss of how much/little to include

Here's a post I made a bit ago going over the basics for what and what not to do.

Here's a tutorial showing different levels of detail.

I usually will include first, what is the medium? A photo? Digital painting? A traditional painting? (in which case I'll usually just say 'painting')

Here's another little tutorial for this post, showing images of increasing detail, and descriptions to match, which will hopefully help.

The main thing is to make sure you describe everything that's important in the image.

A good way to learn is to follow a lot of blogs that do image descriptions, so you can see how different people describe different things.

A new tutorial for April 2024:

simplest:

[ID: An MS Paint drawing of a grey square on a blank white background, saying, "Hello from Flatland". There is a simple black border around the image. End ID.]

a bit more detail:

Note that there's nothing inherent in the image to tell you this character's gender, but because I, the describer know it, I can simply use the correct pronouns and convey it that way.

If you're describing people whose genders you don't know, it's best not to assume.

[ID: An MS Paint drawing of a grey square on a blank white background, saying, "Hello from Flatland". He has a simple eye drawn on the upper right corner where his dialogue is, and has a pink heart and a brain represented by a circle with squiggle lines inside his body. There is a simple black border around the image. End ID.]

Some more detail:

[ID: An MS Paint drawing of a square on a blank white background, saying, "Hello from Flatland". He has a grey outer layer, with his insides purple, with a small eye just inside an opening on the corner where his dialogue is, with the corners appearing almost like a beak. He has a pink heart and a brain represented by a circle with squiggle lines inside his body. There is a simple black border around the image. End ID.]

Yet more detail:

[ID: An MS Paint drawing of a square against a blank white background, saying, "Hello from Flatland". He has a grey outer layer, with purple insides, and various blob-shaped internal organs in different shades of pink and purple to reddish-purple, with all of them general blob shapes except the purple heart, which is in a simple heart shape. There is a simple black border around the image. End ID.]

Ooh look at this:

[ID: A digital drawing A green sphere, which says in matching green text, "Hello from Spaceland". The sphere and its dialogue both cast shadows on the white ground below, where a square, tilted at an angle as though lying flat on the ground while we view him from an angle, says "Hello from Flatland". The square has a grey outer layer, with purple insides, and various blob-shaped internal organs in different shades of pink and purple to reddish-purple, with all of them general blob shapes except the purple heart, which is in a simple heart shape. End ID.]

I'm too lazy at the moment to twist my brain to draw a tesseract so you'll all have to use your imagination for the image that would come next lol...

Hopefully this helped demonstrate a bit!

[the-ventriloquizt]

[ Image: Some drawings of Jack Ryder and The Creeper. The first is a full body drawing of Jack Ryder walking along with a sarcastic look on his face, one hand holding the top of a green fedora off of his head, the other shoved into the pocket of his coat. He is wearing yellow tinted glasses, a dark yellow shirt, a tie with green and light green swirls, and a dark red jacket with embroidered pink squiggles that climb chaotically halfway up the jacket, sleeves, and across the shoulders. His pants are red with pink pinstripes, and he has plain brown leather shoes. A scribbly orange-red mass comes off of his shoulders like the Creeper's cape. The second drawing is a slightly modified redraw of a panel from 1st Issue Special #7, where Jack Ryder is sitting in the newsroom reporting about the Creeper. Jack is sitting in front of a blue and black background with a large photo of the Creeper beside him, who wears a wide smile and is winking at the camera. Little sparkles surround his face. Jack has a serious look on his face, and is wearing a burgundy jacket with a dark yellow shirt and cross-hatched tie. ]

No but seriously, how did they get such a clear (and pleasant) picture of the Creeper?

[ Image: A screenshot from 1st Issue Special #7, showing a green television airing Jack Ryder talking about the Creeper. Jack is sitting in front of a blue and black background with a large photo of the Creeper beside him. The photo shows the Creeper with a wide, easy smile. The Narrator says, "And so…" as Jack says, "…And remember, folks! The Creeper is clever and may be dangerous! If you do see him, don't try to apprehend him alone! Telephone the police or this station!" Jack is wearing a burgundy jacket with a yellow shirt and cross-hatched tie. At the bottom of the screenshot is written, "Continued on the 8th page following" ]

[fandomfluffandfuck]

hey what should I draw, mr.s?

I'm always partial to people and adjacent things, so, maybe some anatomy practice? Shoes? Clothes with interesting textures/shine/folds? Expressions? I don't know! Or...

Don't try to draw anything.

Listen, that sounds so fucking weird, but one of my friends encouraged me to try intuitive art where you just aimlessly do shit except for what you feel is right. Inuiting it. Scribble, make circles, dashes, lines, etc., whatever, there's no wrong way to do it. Just do it. Do what feels right. It doesn't have to be representative of anything, not an emotion or story, but it can be if you want to, too. Whatever. Use an art medium you're familiar with using or not. Use kids' crayons, use expensive, nice watercolors, either extreme or somewhere in between. There's no wrong way to do it.

I thought that sounded interesting when I was introduced to the concept first, and god knows I have enough sketchbooks unused lying around to experiement in. So I just picked up a sketchbook that someone distant in my family gave me who knows nothing about art, and nothing about the art I specifically make, so it's too small of a book for what I usually do and I don't particularly like the paper within it, so I was, like, whatever, okay, I'll "ruin" this book. And I just started scribbling.

I will say I don't love love love anything I've made yet, but I don't hate it the way I thought I would as a realistic artist that is very much a perfectionist. I've really only spent, like, 30 minutes of time (tops) on the intuitive drawings when I'm already spending 5+ hours to work on my actual pieces daily. So, it's low stakes. It's easy. But. It's still so interesting. It's been so good for me, even if I don't love the outcome, y'know? The process is fun or, at least, nice and flow-like. It's a good way to start or end a drawing session, I've found.

Shit, though, I made fucking magic this afternoon on complete accident! So, okay, maybe I do like that outcome of that scribble in particular. Even if it is a little embarrassing as a mess of smeared pink and red crayons in blurry squiggles and almost heart shapes. It's chaotic, and it happened because I got stuck thinking about my old best friend, whom I knew from 1st grade until high school. He, to say the least, was not a fucking good friend as it turned out. Yet, time puts rose colored glasses on you, and so sometimes I wonder about him. Sometimes, I even miss him, though I know it isn't real what I miss. (I also might have been in love with him? I don't know even know, and that's a whole can of worms.) That being said, I tore through a page with that intuitive art and... I was truly just scribbling, not trying to make anything representative. In the end, though, I made this lighter background with a very prominent, darker scribble in the abstract shape of the first letter of his name. I didn't do that. Not consciously. So, fuck, I was astounded when I looked down at it, feeling like I was finished, to see that letter. What the shit? I hate when art does these things to me 💀💀 Fine. I'm lying. It's very cool in an indescribable kind of way.

(Did I then immediately go on to start another page and make a vaguely disturbing scribble with lots of eyes and loose teeth and bloody looking smears that I also did not intend to make look like that? Yes. Is that besides the point? Yes.) ((Also, funnier, did I make something the day before yesterday that was undeniably vagina-shaped? Also, yes. It's an adventure out here, lmao.))

Whatever you do, get out there and do it, baby!! Draw! Be meticulous or chaotic! There's no rules!