#it sure is a toy in a box!!!! this is so silly and fun

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

oh this is fun!! mine is a pun coming from the saying "life isn't always rainbows and butterflies" which means that you have to go through hardships sometimes. and yeah my whump blog has quite a few characters going through hardships!! but also what's a blog url without a silly whump pun, so rainbows and whumperflies it is. I did that when I was thirteen and thought I was so funny that I started going by rainbow and using rainbow for my whole tagging system and now I'm in too deep to change it

no pressure tags: @intotheautumnsky @i-eat-worlds @curious-sootball @whumperofworlds @fourwingedwriter

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[sleepymarimo]

A TAMA...WHAT? - TOJI FUSHIGURO

"toji. if anything happens to my tamagotchi while i'm gone, i'm actually never talking to you again."

"...huh?"

: ̗̀➛ 1.2k cw: none! silly goofy fun, tamagotchi death :'(

the sorcerer killer isn't sure what to do with the small device in his hand, which looks a little too colorful for his liking. too flashy. when you'd called him a few hours ago to tell him you needed a favor, he didn't expect to be a damn babysitter to a pixelated pet for a whole week.

he would've declined, maybe suggest a "compromise", but you seemed a little too serious about your threat of not speaking to him ever again.

and, despite his best effort to maintain a nonchalant front, he knew that he wasn't going to take that risk.

you'd let him stay at your place, a nice perk, so now he lays back on your couch and fiddles with the buttons while watching the small pet eat or play or even work. how does this thing have more of a stable life than he does?

lips set into a focued pout, those big digits of his nearly crush the poor buttons into dust. "the hell do you want now?" he growls, having just set down the device to watch a boat race on t.v.

toji's never been intimidated by new jobs, by thinking outside the box, but at this moment he'd rather be taking on a horde of curses.

yet... he kind of gets the hang of it. maybe a little too much.

by day three of his tamagotchi journey, he feels pretty confident about taking care of the pet. pride surges through his veins when he checks all the stats and sees no issue, the tamagotchi thriving under his care.

he becomes a little too obsessed with the toy sometimes.

shiu, on a call with the assassin, finds himself having to pause when he swears he hears this constant beeping in the background.

"fushiguro-"

"just hold on," toji interrupts, the phone resting on the table while he works on the tamagotchi. "this thing is sick as shit. i gotta give it medicine."

the mediator isn't even sure what to say at that, a part of him wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him. "i thought you were just going to get her a new one. you're still keeping up with that thing?" shiu asks into the receiver, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reaches for a cigarette and lighter.

another few beeps can be heard through the phone, then a relieved sigh. "fuck no. and m'not 'keeping up'," toji specifies, almost offended. "m'owning this piece of crap. it's easy work."

on the other end of the phone, shiu finds solace in a deep inhale of cigarette smoke. luckily, he's able to get toji on a pretty good gig with the promise of outstanding pay.

even during the meeting a couple days later, the sorcerer killer is brushing off high end clients as soon as he hears that damn beeping. "gimme a minute," he gruffly says, before mumbling in a more hushed tone. "s'fucking needy..."

raising one hand as if he's putting a simple pause on the conversation, he uses the other to click click click until he deems the virtual pet satisfied.

meanwhile, shiu is embarrassed as hell and makes an effort not to look the client in the eyes.

content enough, toji places the tamagotchi back in his pocket with a gentleness that he doesn't usually, if ever, displays. "a'right. so how much are ya paying again?"

...

by the time you arrive home a day later, exhausted from a flight and too many train rides, you're ready to be reunited with your virtual companion.

"okay toji," you call out, the door shutting behind you with a click. "where's mimitchi?"

you hear his heavy steps before you see him, his frame rather... rigid. "well hey to you too," he greets, stopping just before you and giving your form a quick once over. "and who the hell is mimitchi?"

sighing, you give him a proper hello before looking at him a little suspiciously. "that's the tamagotchi. mimitchi is her name," you explain, starting to tap your foot. where was it? "so...?"

his eyes momentarily widen, like he's genuinely surprised. "huh? it's a girl? and that's her name? what the hell..."

while it's a funny sight, you don't stop giving him that pointed look. your arms even cross, indicating that you really weren't in the mood.

toji scoffs at your little display, shrugging his shoulders. "i lost it," he replies. "must've fell out of my pocket or something..."

your heart drops. "you what? seriously? toji!" a pout settles on your lips, sincere disappointment written all over your features.

does he feel bad? yes, he does. with a sigh, he steps closer and wraps his arm around you, placing it on your lower back. he's shitty with words, but he knows how to ground you.

"look, sweetheart, i'll get you another one," he starts, his words making your heart feel a little more light. "tomorrow we can-"

breep! beep beep beep!

breep! beep beep beep!

while you freeze, toji's hand goes straight to his pocket. "shit, i thought it fucking silenced it."

jaw dropping, you look up at him as if he's just stabbed you in the back. hell, he might as well have!

"are you serious?" you chuff, not believing his audacity. your hand reaches for his pocket, but he's quick to pull out the tamagotchi and hold it out of your reach. "oh, you asshole! i can't believe you."

caught in the act, he allows himself to scowl just the smallest bit. "y'the one who left her," he points out, as if he has a say in how to be a present parent. "i'm just stepping up."

your offended gasp triggers a chuckle from him. reaching for the tamagotchi again, you whine when he moves it even further from you.

the back and forth lasts for a while, until a truce is made.

sitting on the couch, you hold the device and check up on mimitchi, who seems to actually be in pretty good condition. you're thoroughly impressed, even letting him know so.

"you're still a jerk for lying," you point out, sure that you weren't going to drop that anytime soon. he just shrugs, acknowledging his wrongs but not really apologizing, as per his usual style.

however, seeing that your beloved mimitchi is already retired and aging... you decide to let him have her. if he wanted the full tamagotchi experience, he was going to get it.

so, while he smugly pockets the toy once more, you just wait.

that moment comes a whole two days later, the day starting off just like any other. in your room, the morning light barely shining through your window, you wake in time to hear those dreaded sounds that no tamagotchi owner wants to hear.

beep...beep...beep...

then, you hear toji abruptly sitting up on the couch, pushing buttons left and right. "not a fucking chance..." he mumbles, surely not expecting a cute toy to have such an abrupt end.

you can only muffle your laughs as he stands, those heavy steps of his coming straight for your door to demand an explanation.

an: lol this idea came into my mind and i just had to get it out. hope you enjoyed bc i kinda laughed writing it:')

[ma1dita]

Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[vrystalius]

hii!! do you think you could write douma (+ other uppermoons if youre up for it) with a s/o that is very physically strong and could pick them up easily :o thank you in advance!!

Douma’s strong darling

How will Douma react to having such a powerful S/O like you?

Note: If I ever show my face in any way I need someone to make some sort of art of me chewing on him like a squeaky toy. I love him, your honor.

Pairing: Douma x gn!reader

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ

Adoration and admiration

Douma adores watching you demonstrate your strength over and over to him. Some may think he could get bored from watching you lift something heavy so effortlessly, making the cultists a little bashful at how attractive it seemed to them, but no!

He often pretended to be utterly starstruck or be swooned by your display of strength, slapping his hand over his chest dramatically to show just how much you make his dead heart race.

“Oh my, how utterly marvellous you are! You could crush me like a delicate flower if you wanted!”

Please crush his head between your thighs, Douma has been staring at them for minutes on end, trying to hint at that he wants his skull and brain to be mushed together between those delicious muscles. He can get on his hands and knees if you like?

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ

Testing your strength and limits

Douma would whine and pout at the heavy box of ceremonial beads he has to drag from one temple to the other, purposely trying to lure you in with his damsel in distress act to test how far your limits, when it comes to strength, go.

He of course can lift the box easily on his own, but watching you do it is so much better! Besides, less work for him to do.

“Oh, don’t mind me! I just love watching you!”

Once, he glued a jar shut and handed it to you with an innocent smile, asking you to open it. Douma watched as you struggled with the jar but found himself completely dumbfounded when you actually managed to open it without breaking it, handing the jar and lid back to him with a sweet smile on your own.

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ

Teasing you

As mentioned before, Douma loves testing your limits, but he also loves teasing you for your strength. That way, if he eggs you far enough, you may demonstrate your strength on him. The thought of you overpowering him in bed makes him giddy, although your idea of using your strength on him is different than his.

You thought about picking your darling up and tossing him around the room like you once read in a very fluffy romance novel, while Douma’s wettest dreams consist of you using him, holding him down with your arms while you do whatever you want with him.

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ

A sense of security

Although Douma is the Upper Moon Two, third strongest demon there is, your power and strength makes him feel safer. Whenever you wrap your arms around his waist for a hug or hold him close to your chest, he feels like he is being held by a true soulmate, not just a random human he keeps around to entertain himself like he initially thought.

Your bodies fit together like the perfect puzzle, his heart above your heart, his face buried in your neck, his hands gripping onto the fabric of your nightgown as if fearing you’d leave or disintegrate.

But Douma plays this off as some silly moment of weakness, not a real emotion he is feeling.

“You cute little human, making me feel so stupid and silly. Do it again.”

💠

Anon, thank you for requesting for my man ‼️ Fun fact, “House of Vry” was inspired by the Eternal Paradise Cult. Also, the banner on my blog is the area where Akaza travelled through during the Upper Moon Meeting Episode to reach the meeting place and is also the area where the final fight of Douma will be! I wonder if anyone every noticed?

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[bloodyinkandquill]

Darkheart and child Reader

just got my new glasses in need to adjust to them i’ve got like a fishbowl effect going on, but it’s friday and im tired, might nap but i wanna try and do this before i nap

reviewed his wiki as i do with every request, one of TWO trivia on his is that he wouldn’t be a good parent… lmaoooo

- You weren’t the one to find Darkheart, he was the one to find you, he was walking through dark alleys at night, like he usually does, he’s weird, when he heard faint breathing, his curiosity got the better of him and he went to investigate, that’s when he found you asleep in a box, rather young and quite dirty, under regular circumstances he’d ignore you and carry on but something felt different about you, so he turned himself invisible to mortals and watched you

- He watched you for a few days, as you survived day to day finding food and shelter, clothing and water, whatever you needed, it was amusing to him honestly, but a part of his did take pity on you

- So one night as you were winding down trying to find a good place to sleep it began to rain, you ran for shelter at some random business’ back door that had a small awning and you sat there, it wasn’t big enough to lie down without rust of getting wet and it had a light anyways so you tried to just wait it out, that was until you noticed something, from deeper in the alley on the shadows a very creepy smile

- You screamed before slapping your hands over your mouth, he approached and as the light shined on him you realized he was one of the SFotHs, he knelt down to your level and told you he had been watching you, and if you’d like to accompany him, you took his hand and next thing you knew you were in his realm, it was honestly kind of scary there but it wasn’t raining which was nice

- Darkheart in his usual fashion chuckled quietly to himself as he watched you look around, he asked if you were hungry which obviously you said you were, so he gave you some grilled fish, not cut up or anything just a fish he had grilled whole, you ate as much as you could

- From then on you were almost always in his realm, it was safer there and he’d given you some sort of shelter, not quite a house but it was close, and he’d get you food and clothing and such, he wasn’t great at it but he tried, he also did not have a good concept on what mortals can or can’t eat so it was a learning period, he still occasionally brings you weird things thinking they’re food, but he’s done it less as times went on

- For the most part you usually leave him realm only to accompany him fishing, he teaches you how to and gives you a rod far too big for you, when it breaks because whatever bit the line was stronger then you that was the only time you saw him frown, it was basically his smile but upside down, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing because he looked rather silly, he got you a smaller training rod instead which works far better, it even had a rubber ducky bobber!

- He gets you occasional toys but they’re almost always older wood toys, like blocks, wheel ducks, that ladder thing, you do appreciate them but only so much fun can come from them, you do get stuffed animals though, specifically any and every fish stuffed animal he finds he gets and gives to you, you have an army of trout plushies

- When Venomshank learns of you he flips, he knows his brother has not been taking proper care of you seeing as you are a young child, he immediately brings you proper clothes and food, since his brother just gave you his own clothes to wear despite you being like half his height, he also gives you Sword’s old toys so that was nice, he comes by regularly to make sure you’re being taken proper care of, when Venomshank confronted his brother about it he just said ‘oopsies’

this was fun i’m going to sleep now

[midnight-mourning]

Not Santa

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 17❄️❄️

this was so silly and fun, really enjoyed it, hope you all do too ^_^

Prompt: MOON HAVING TO WEAR A SANTA HAT INSTEAD OF HIS HAT (they are red so similar but different)

Word Count: 1580

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It had started out as a simple joke, a passing comment you'd made while getting out decorations for the month. 

"Hey, you know, this is about the same size as your hat." You pull the red Santa hat out of the box, holding it up. "They ever let you play Santa Claus?"

Moon stares at the hat a moment, then chuckles, turning away. "They have not. What a silly idea."

"It's not silly!" You protest. "I think you'd be pretty cute in this, actually. Try it on, won't you?"

He scoffs. "Absolutely not."

"Why?"

He shrugs, "Don't want to."

"Why?" You press further. 

Moon steps back as you stand up, bending so you're closer to him. "Do I need a reason? It will look ridiculous."

"Sure if you don't take your other hat off first. Come on, i just want to see, please?" You beg. 

But, he's relentless, though teasing, in his resolve. "You'll have to do more than that to convince me."

"Lame." You pout, heading back over to the box of decorations. 

An idea pops in to your head then, a rather devious one. 

It starts small, just leaving the hat out in places where you know Moon will stumble across it. The naptime cubbies, the story shelf, his favorite spot on the playset to observe the kids. Each time, he either simply ignores and goes about his business, or he'll deposit it to you in some way. 

"Cute." He'd say, then walk off to attend to his duties. 

It only encourages you further. 

You decide to up the ante, finding more hats in storage and laying them around everywhere as well. Sun even lets you have this one, not insisting on cleaning them up or the likes. 

Moon still avoids the hats, but now he's taken to tossing them at you while you're not looking, as opposed to just handing it back to you. 

Your next move is a bit more drastic, and unfortunately unsuccessful as well. 

You wait until Moon's let his guard down, sitting beside each other monitoring naptime, when you reach up, and snatch his hat off his head. You quickly scramble to your feet, and hold out the Santa hat to him, keeping his night cap tucked behind your back, smile saccharine. 

His faceplate twists once, twice, and then he chuckles, and you think you're finally victorious. 

But as he stands, you realize how wrong you are. 

"I'll give you until the count of three, Starlight. After that I won't play nice."

If you didn't know he was teasing, you'd hand it back no qualms. But, you can hear that cheeky lithe, practically daring you to test his paitence. 

You grin, and then run off into the dark. 

Careful to keep quiet so not to wake the kids, you search around wildly for a place to hide his hat. You find it in one of the small fake houses, stuffing it into one of the corners behind some toys. You hurriedly crawl out of the house, trying to find somewhere for yourself now. 

You're crawling into one of the playset tubes when you hear a chuckle above you in the darkness. 

You put a hand over your mouth to keep quiet, doing your best to smother your giggling. 

There's nothing but quiet all around you. You wonder if he's left and started searching elsewhere. 

Suddenly, red eyes encompass your field of vision, and you let out a muffled shriek as he drags you out of the playset and up into the air. After a bit, you're on the ground again, out of breath from the adrenaline rush, and trying to contain your laughter. 

Moon holds out his hand expectantly. You grin, giggling as you give him the Santa hat. 

"Sorry, it's all I have." You shrug. 

He takes it from you, shaking his head. You gasp, only to be covered in darkness as he pulls the hat on over your eyes. 

You make a noise of protest, and when you lift it to see again, find him putting his cap back on.

You puff out your cheeks, disappointed, and he chuckles. 

Moon starts to walk back to where the kids are sleeping, and checking the time you realize that it's time for the to wake up. You both start to gently rouse them one by one, Moon with smothered delight, you with veiled annoyance.

As he makes it over to the light switch at last, he turns to you, head tilted to the side. "Better luck next time, Little Star."

The lights come on, leaving Sun in his place. 

Sometime later, you're standing by the security desk sulking, head resting on your arms as you watch the kids play. 

Sun comes over to stand beside you, patting you on the shoulder thoughtfully. "I believe in you, Sunshine. I know you'll get him eventually!"

"Thanks, Sunny. But honestly, I think I'm losing hope." You hold up the hat in one hand, then slump further into the desk. "Maybe it's just not meant to be after all."

You hear his rays click once or twice. Then, he takes the hat from your hands. Adjusting his rays, he sets it on his own head and steps back, hands on his hips. 

"Well, what do you think?"

You smile, sitting up a little bit. "I think you look very handsome, Sun. And in the Christmas spirit."

"Aw, shucks." His rays spin, waving his hand at you. 

You put your head in your hand. "I mean it. Though you don't have to keep wearing it, can't be comfortable. Thanks for indulging me for a moment."

"I think I'll keep it, thank you very much." He crosses his arms, then seems to think of something, pounding his fist into his hand. "Oh! I think I've got it!"

You tilt your head, he continues. "This is all just a game to Moony, so if you make it a game with a definitive winner and loser, then he'll have no choice but to wear it!"

You think for a moment, then start to nod in agreement. "You're right, Sun. That's a great idea. And I know just exactly how I'm gonna make it happen."

You wait for the perfect opportunity; the holiday party. 

You make sure to keep the lights on enough to see, but low enough so that Moon could participate. Then, you choose the perfect game to approach him with your deal. 

"Antler toss, hm?" Moon asks, holding the headband with the reindeer antlers in his hands. "Another plot to get me to take off my hat?'

You stick your own pair on, smile polite, tone coy. "In a way. If I win, you have to wear the Santa hat the rest of the party."

"And if you lose?" He questions.

You shrug. "You can decide that yourself."

Moon's head twists in thought a few times. Then, he sticks the antlers on his head with a snicker. 

"Let's play."

You go first, and of ten rings, you manage to score seven of them around the antlers on his head. 

You cheer when you're done, victory certainly assured. There was no way he could beat you, surely not. 

Moon makes six of his seven tosses. Three rings remaining in his hands. You keep a smirk on your face but swallow internally, you can't lose. Your best guess is that he'll dispose of the hat, and then you'll never get to see him wear it. 

He misses the first toss, but then scores with the second. Now it's a tie game. 

You stand a chance of winning if you have to play again, he just has to—

The last ring lands on your head, and Moon laughs, victorious. You deflate immediately. 

"Gosh darn it." You sigh, shuffling over to Moon, rings on your head bouncing against each other only reminding you of your defeat. You hold out the hat to Moon. "Go ahead, destroy it then."

He chuckles, hand coming up under your chin to get you to look up at him. "Is that what you think I want?"

"Well yeah,"—you scoff—"What else could you—"

You're interrupted by a kiss to your lips, causing your breath to hitch and your eyes to widen. After a few moments, Moon pulls away, taking the hat from your shocked hands. 

"Since you've been a worthy opponent, I suppose it's only fair." He removes his night cap, and putting the Santa hat in its place. 

You're too surprised to react properly, face burning. "Okay, yay."

Moon chuckles, arms wrapping around you. "Is this alright?"

You come to your senses again.

"Yes! Yes um, more than alright." Your hands wrap around his neck. "Though, maybe not overly appropriate for a holiday party for children. Probably not setting a good example."

Moon tsks. "Maybe not, but I think one more kiss won't hurt."

"Moon!" You protest, but do nothing to stop him as he leans in again. 

"Now tell me, is this everything you wanted?" He looks up to the hat. 

You chuckle. "Yeah, that and more."

"And do I look handsome?"

You huff, smile on your lips. "Didn't take you for the jealous type. But yes,"—you give him a quick peck—"Very handsome."

"Very huh?"

You break apart finally, shaking your head. "Don't go getting a big head now, then that hat won't fit."

He snickers, and you grin. 

He was no Santa, but you think that's more than alright with you.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the silly prompt @buzzybee3 I think it was fun to have a sort of cat and mouse bit to it, but still all in good fun hehe

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[callsign-venus]

Put a Bow on It | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You find out that Bradley's present-wrapping skills are... less than stellar, so it's up to you to save Christmas.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few very light sexual references, incompetence of a grown man, fluffy fluff fluff

a/n: Thank you for the love on my previous posts — I’m really thankful to everyone who reads my silly little stories. Hope y’all enjoy this one, Merry Christmas!

“You can’t look at me like that,” Bradley says.

“Like what?” You ask, though you know exactly what he means.

It’s not that you mean to look at him with such pity, but who can blame you?

You weren’t exactly sure how he got himself into such a mess when you were only in the kitchen making coffees. Wedged between a stack of boxed Barbies and no less than 12 rolls of wrapping paper scattered across your living room floor, Bradley looks less competent aviator and more like an unsupervised 5th grader. Tattered strips of Santa wrapping paper curl around him, scraps of tape line both of his exposed thighs, and he’s so flustered he hasn’t even removed the bright red bow you tied around his head earlier. You both look down at the lumpy present sitting on the rug in front of him. For all his efforts, it wasn’t a spectacular result. 

“You did great.” You have to hide your face with a drawn-out sip of coffee because you know if he catches a glimpse of your expression, he will call you out for your bald-faced lie.

He can tell anyway. “I’m not sure lying is the best way to get on the nice list.”

You do feel bad. It was your idea to get involved in the neighborhood toy drive, and despite his protests, you pleaded for Bradley to help.

“It will be fun,” you said before kissing his pouty lips. “I’ll make us coffees and you can light a fire and it’ll be so festive.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he cupped your face with his hands, “but I’m not lying when I say I can’t wrap a present to save my life.”

“You’ll do great.” You gave him another quick kiss and considered the matter over.

So, he didn’t do great. Could you really blame him? He tried to let you know beforehand, and it’s not like his military career was spent doing arts and crafts. You take another sip of your coffee before setting both mugs down and padding over to sit on the floor next to him.

“Am I off the wrapping duties?” He gives you a lopsided smile and slides his hand around your waist.

“You wish.” You reach over his lap and undo his wrapping job. “Get ready to learn a thing or two.”

He laughs when you use his own words against him, as you have throughout your entire relationship.

When you two weren’t yet dating – but still very much infatuated with each other – Bradley used pool as an excuse to get close to you, though no excuses were needed. You were putty in his hands already.

“Get ready to learn a thing or two,” he’d murmured in your ear. It was a Friday evening and The Hard Deck was packed, so he had to get close — mustache-ticking-your-ear close — so you could hear him over the rowdy crowd of sailors. And he was teaching you how to make a combination shot, so he had to wrap his arms around you so he could guide you through the motions. And you were a receptive student, so you had to lean against him so he could feel the curve of your ass — just so he knew his technique was working.

Now, nearly a year later on the rug of your living room, you slide up behind Bradley like he did that Friday night, your fingers gliding down his thick biceps towards his hands. They’re huge under yours, earning a laugh from both of you.

“Sweet girl, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” he says as you rest your chin on his shoulder. The curled ribbon from the bow in his hair tickles your check.

“Well, I know how to play pool thanks to this little trick. I’m sure I can use it to teach you how to wrap a present.”

You guide one of his hands toward the pair of scissors and another towards the pile of wrapping paper.

“Since I’m a great teacher, I’ll even let you pick which paper to use,” you say.

He lingers over the rolls for a moment, ultimately choosing a cranberry red paper with prints of cars carrying snow-dusted Christmas trees.

“Ok, now let’s roll it out. Look at me, Bradley.”

He pulls back a little so you can make complete eye contact. Even after months of dating, his warm brown eyes undo something in you, leaving you feeling like you’re brushing shoulders with the clouds. How did you ever get so lucky?

“It’s very important to measure the paper before cutting,” your voice softens as you drop the strict teacher act. “Put the Barbie at the edge of the wrapping paper, then you kinda fold up the other edge and see if it’s long enough.”

He takes a moment to soak you in before he can bring his attention back to the present. Up close, he can fully appreciate the graceful curve of your lips, the exact shade of your eyes. In the weepy, late morning sunlight, you are radiant.

The fire crackles in the background. The only other sound is your synchronous breathing.

You lean in slightly. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I promised Cathy that we’d deliver the presents by 2, so you need to get moving.”

“You should boss me around more often.” He stares at you for a second longer before turning his attention back to the present.

You’re glad he turns around so he can’t witness the violent shade of red your face flushes — nearly as red as the wrapping paper.

Once the paper’s measured, you show him how to cut it with one swooshing glide of the scissors.

“It’s like I’m a professional,” he says.

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” You squeeze his hands gently. “We’ve still got to tape this sucker up.”

He groans as you peel the scraps of tape off his thigh.

“How did you even do this to yourself?” You collect all the tape into one big wad. “You’re a grown man”

He shrugs. “I guess my mom was gone before she could teach me.”

At the mention of his mom, your heart melts. What you wouldn’t give to have her here for him, to walk him through this process he should have learned years ago. To spend another Christmas with her boy. You run your fingers through his sun-lightened locks. One night when you two first started dating, you sat on your porch alone. Under soft-falling moonlight, you promised Carole that you’d be there for her son; promised her that she and Goose could count on you to make sure he’d always be ok.

Something in Bradley’s face makes you think you were doing just fine on your promise. You can’t help the heat that rises to your checks when you catch him staring at you.

Then, with a mischievous smile, he swipes the tape wad from you, aims it, and launches it right at your face.

You try to get mad, to lecture him about the children who will be let down on Christmas morning without their Barbie doll, but the grin on his lips washes away any amount of anger you could dredge up. He wags his eyebrows and you can’t contain your laughter as it spills out of you and fills up the living room.

“You can’t be trusted with this dangerous weapon.” You grab the tape dispenser and wipe a tear from your eye. “I’ll rip the tape for you so you can just focus on folding.”

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m actually trusted with dangerous weapons daily at work.”

You roll your eyes, but to his credit, Bradley is willing to learn. You gently guide him through the folds, but he picks it up pretty quick given that he doesn’t have to juggle the wrapping paper and the tape.

“That’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He holds up the present, admiring the sharp folds and the perfectly festive wrapping paper. “And I’ve got the perfect girl to thank.”

You dodge his incoming kiss, instead patting his cheek and standing up.

His brows knot in confusion before he realizes what you’ve gotten up to retrieve: a roll of velvety green ribbon.

You hold it up triumphantly. “One final touch.”

The absolute pain on his face steals the grin off yours.

You sink back down to the floor and wrap him tight in your arms, sliding your hand up his back to rub circles between his shoulders.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs against your chest, “I really don’t have that in me.”

You kiss the top of his head. If Bradley draws the line here, you’re more than happy to finish the wrapping. Hell, you’d even lace his fucking shoes if it spared him the torture of tying any more bows. You are head-over-heels for Bradley Bradshaw, and you know he knows it. It’s a good thing he’s equally head-over-heels for you.

“Ok, Bradshaw, I’ll tie the bow, but I’ll need a little help.” You break away from him and begin unspooling the ribbon. “I know your mom taught you this.”

And he smiles because he knows what’s coming.

You twist the ribbon around the package, cross-crossing it over the top. You look to him, and already he’s jumping into action. He ceremoniously raises a finger and plants it perfectly on the intersection of the ribbon.

“Perfect.” You steadily finish the bow. It’s really good, you have to admit: entirely symmetrical, huge and bouncy like a cartoon.

And then Bradley is on top of you, pulling you into his lap, smushing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your lips. His kisses are hungry, but not sinfully so. You’re hungry too. Hungry to share the rest of your lives together. To wrap presents for your kids on Christmas Eve while they pretend to be asleep down the hall. To savor early Christmas mornings in matching pajamas, sipping hot chocolate while a fire sings in the hearth. Late Christmas evenings where he pulls you into his lap on the piano bench and plays your favorite carols — a little sloppily from the spiked eggnog and having to reach around you. 

“I’m not in your way?” You would ask, already knowing his answer.

“No, you are right where you need to be.”

And he would play long into the night, celebrating the fact that he gets to spend Christmas with his sweet girl. No December 26th would pass without you waking up to find you had both lost your voices.

Your phone rings, rudely barging into your domestic dreams of the future. You’re tempted to ignore it, but Bradley accepts the call and brings it to your ear, leans his forehead against yours.

“Hey, Cathy,” you say.

“Is there any chance you can get the presents here sooner?” You and Bradley can both hear how harried the toy drive organizer sounds. “Sorry to even ask, you know I appreciate you, but some paperwork got messed up and —”

“Sure thing, don’t worry about it.” You break in to spare her the breath.

“Thank you,” she says. “And bring that sailor of yours, too. I might need help loading the truck.”

You laugh. “I’ll make sure to bring him along.”

“Thank you so much, sweetie. See ya soon.”

“See you soon.” You hang up your phone and toss it on the floor.

You peck Bradley on the check.  “Ok, ready to put those new skills to good use?”

“Ready.” He smiles and runs his hands through your hair. “Ready to do anything for you.”

You scramble out of his lap because if he keeps looking at you like that, you definitely won’t get the presents to Cathy on time.

You turn on the TV and fetch your still-steaming coffees from the table. Quickly, you and Bradley settle into an easy wrapping rhythm, the hum of a carol floating out of your TV, accompanied by the silent promise of all your Christmases — and many wrapped presents — to come.

[ohbo-ohno]

i wanna know ghoap's individual reactions to them finally breaking the reader, maybe the reader's been bratty all day long, refusing to play with the new toys simon got for her or sulking when johnny tries to play dress up using her, maybe simon's getting a little pissed and just pulls her onto his lap, she struggles, but then a warm, calloused thumb to her clit, rubbing gently, with his hot breath against that sensitive part her neck has the stiffness suddenly melting, and simon's eyes spark with GLEE as he sees her own eyes glaze over and she whines and pushes her hips further into his hands. god that would be so fun. but i'm not sure how this would work out for johnny

i need an oxygen machine

Simon's a little tired that day, doesn't quite have the energy to force you to submit, to force you into the soft headspace they want you in. So when you gripe and bitch he just grabs you, dragging you over on top of him without a word and ignoring your complaints. He curls you into him, scoops your legs up and tucks your feet under one thigh, has your ass planted on the other and rests his arm behind your back to give you support. You get a little wiggly and he doesn't even say anything, just growls out a low noise against your temple and sneaks his free hand between your legs. You go all stiff in his arms, and he strokes a little. Nothing much, just enough for you to feel the sensation, feel where he is. And you just break for him. Go fully limp in his arms, legs falling open and head falling to his neck as you let out a little keen, burrowing your face beneath his jaw and panting. He can't fuckin' believe it. He tugs you even closer, rubs just a little faster and pets up and down your back, mummering to you there you go, sweetheart. that's nice, isn't it? bein' so good for me, so soft. lettin' me be nice to you, so good. isn't this good? don't you like bein' good for me? that's my girl.

it would take a little more for johnny. you've got your guard up around him in a different way than you do with simon. you know what's happening with simon, have at least a bit of an idea what he'll do to/with you. but with johnny you've got to always prepare for the unexpected, so you sort of tiptoe around him a lot. the moment he thinks he's actually got you is just a lazy saturday afternoon. simon is napping on the couch, and johnny pulls you into the kitchen with him to make a cake. no reason, he just wants to do something with you, and it's rainy and gross out so he can't even take you on a walk anywhere. you're a little softer that day, had been good and not need any scolding or punishments, so your walls are lowered. you make the cake together from a box mix, johnny drawing the process out to spend as much time with you as possible. he picks you up by the hips at one point, drops you onto his feet and holds your hands as he dances the two of you around. it's silly, and johnny's singing terribly as he does it, all dramatic and loose, pulling your body along with his and not even making you take a step. you can't help but laugh, loud and full. johnny's heart stops when he hears it, and he quickly turns, pushing your back into a counter. you cut yourself off, staring up at him in surprise, and he gets so panicked, worried he's lost you already. so he does the first thing that comes to mind - dips his finger in the bowl of batter next to you and swipes it onto your nose. you lose it, already in a good headspace. you just burst out laughing, tears welling in your eyes. he can't even laugh with you, just stares down all wide-eyed at your euphoria. it's then that he knows it'll all be ok. you can be happy with them <3

[w1shb0n3z]

Chilchuck girldad shenanigans!!! +Senshi's thoughts on mlp at the very end

(Brace yourself. This is a long one)

What's Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity? It's not doing their hair, no. That's just something he's been praised on. Being able to put his girls hair up in different styles whenever his wife wasn't around was seen as very admirable and lots of people complemented him on it. Especially non-half-foots (becuase they seem to think the father is less involved in the kids life LMAO) And though his daughters loved when their dad did their hair, they much proffered when their mom did it since it was neater

Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity (well, general girldad activity) is actually playing pretend. He seems like the type to just playfully scoff at kids he sees engaging in an outrageous, glorified LARPing session. And he is. He is that type. He thinks it's playing pretend is silly. But, when it comes to his daughters, it's charming.

He found some genuine entertainment when he was making believe with his little ones while they were young. Fully immersed in the ever complicated plot and nonsensical characters, he loved seeing the spark in their eyes and the giggle in their voices as they played out their fantasies. He'd also like to be dense from time to time just for the reaction it got. Saying things like "but bears can't fly" or "I thought you said princesses couldn't swim" be uase there's something very humorous about being scolded by a toddler

Once the girls got older, though, his favorite activities became specific to the kid.

For Meijack, his mini-me, it was teaching her his craft. For Flertom, the one that looks just like her mother, it was makeovers. And with Puckpatti, his bright-eyed youngest, it was shopping.

A little more of Meijack

She had taken an interest in locksmithing when she was young; so much so that she would often swipe a spare lock when her dad wasn't looking. Mei had proven herself to he a very crafty and tactile person. After about the 15th time, Chilchuck was tired of this and decided to improvise.

He took a nice square wooden board, sanded it down to make sure no mishaps would occur, and then attached some latches, locks, and other miscellaneous things to it. He essentially made a busy board for Mei, and she loved it. She would often be found in her room, buckling and unbluckling, messing with straps and zippers and locks and ties.

He'd make her a new board each year on her birthday; that is, until she turned 5. After that, she got puzzle boxes, and each year, they'd get more and more complex. If they were invented at the time, Mei would totally fuck up a Rubix cube on the low.

Expanding a bit on Flertom

After finding baby Fler with a face smeared with her mom's ruby red lipstick, Chilchuck knew he had a future full of make-up modeling. So following that incident, he bought Fler her own little make-up kit.

Initially, little Fler was satisfied just beautifying her own face, then showing it off to her dad; however, she did start feel like good old papa Chuck was missing out on the fun, so she pressured him into letting her put some eyeshadow on him. It was bright blue, it was messy, and it was awful to apply.

After a year or two, the make-overs got better and better. 10 year old Fler was becoming quite talented with her cosmetic skills. She'd gone from doing outlandish looks on her dad to actually finding styles that fit him and testing out new ideas on him.

What about Puckpatti?

Now I did say that Puckpatti's designated activity was shopping, but what I meant to say was haggling down prices and looking for deals. Ever since she was young, the adorable, unassuming half-foot had a knack for bargaining— even while trading toys in the playground or snacks in the lunchroom.

Chilchuck first noticed Patti's gift after she came home from school with a necklace on. ...She certainly didn't come to school with it, so it's safe to say Chilchuck was confused. Once he found out what actually happened, he did get Patri to return the necklace and focused her abilities to learning how to shop efficiently.

Patti truly did enjoy shopping with her dad. And kn occasoik they would go to different shopping centers together. Chilchuck would always get discounted tools, courtesy of Patti, and Patti would find a pair of shoes or some fruit and nealry cut the price in half. They go wandering place to place, talking and spotting the best deals, It's always a fun and productive time!

Now to Senshi

If you've made it this far, congrats! Here's your reward

Either in a modern AU, or just due some crazy magical force, Senshi finds out about MLP.

Now, would he watch this on his own? Nope. A colorful show about ponies doesn't catch his eye, so sorry.

But let's just say he ends up watching MLP. (Moslty because in this scenario, Marcille had mentioned liking the show and senshi heard it was about horses- or well, ponies)

After whatching a few episodes he's come to a few conclusions and has gained a couple of opinions.

Who's his favorite character? Big Mac

Who's his least favorite characters? Diamond Tiara, Silverspoon, Gilda, Rainbowdash, and Rarity

He does NOT fw the them.

His opinions on the mane 6 + a few more

Twilight: very uptight, but has the potential to be a leader of some kind. Not a personal favorite

Fluttershy: Thinks she needs some guidance and to grow a backbone, but is very impressed witb her connection to the fuana

Rarity: Does NOT like her. Thinks she's spoiled and prissy and snippy

Applejack: Likes her! Think she's nice and hard working and well rounded

Rainbowdash: Think she does wayyy to much. Someone needs to teach her not to be so full of herself. He legitimately didn't want to watch some of the episodes because he felt like rainbowdash was just being an ass (some with Rarity)

Pinkie pie: Too hyper for his taste. Thinks she's pretty odd

Spike: he finds the idea of keeping a small dragon as a...well, a little brother figure, to be odd. He doesn't get the fact that Spike has a crush on Rarity and thinks that the gang should treat him with more respect

Zecora: Another character he actually likes. The episode introducing her frustrated him a LOT, he actually haf to pause it becuase all that pony racism was too much for him

Luna/Nightmare Moon: He's iffy about her. Ay first, he didn't have too much of an opinion on her, but once he figured out her deal, he liked her a little. He doesn't blame her for turning evil at all

Celestia: Thinks she's USELESS. Oh my god. He's confused because she seems like she should be a queen and not a princess, but based on what she sees her do, he isn't surprised that her status is princess

[bluesgrxce]

Michael Afton x Reader

A story in which you help Michael (and Helpy! 💖) run their little pizzeria restaurant

[Part 2]

"Mike... I need you for a second!"

Your call echoed throughout the cramped halls of the pizzeria. It didn't take long for your husband to enter the dining hall from one of the hallways. 

"...Yes, love?"

Oh, he knew he was in trouble. He always used that sweet, innocent British accent and kept his hands politely behind his back. He knew this act of his made your heart throb and he used it to his advantage whenever possible. But you couldn't let him get out of this one- Not this one. 

You pointed to the far corner of the dining hall. "I thought we agreed no discount ball pits."

Not even calling it 'discount' would do it justice. It was a flimsy cardboard box filled with ballpit balls and a wooden plank as a diving board. Heck, the ladder didn't exactly look safe to climb on either. 

"A-Ah." Michael tensed. "Yes, but..."

"But what? Look at the box- Only toddlers could fit in it! And that isn't if the diving board doesn't break under their weight beforehand! How would the kids play on it?"

He scratched his face nervously. "It isn't for the kids."

"Then who is it for?"

Helpy waddled in the room from the same hallway Michael came out of. He wrapped his stubby arms around your leg and gazed at you with those glassy, faux eyes of his. You gave him a kind yet forced smile.

He had basically become like an adopted child (Or pet, both would be correct) after you and Michael began working on the pizzeria. Helpy actually believed Michael was his father due to the silly bear mask he wore, and Michael's daddy issues were too strong for him to resist, so you were deemed the other parent by default. 

And now he looked like a kid begging their parent for a toy at the store... Wait, why did he look like-

Your expression switched to shock. You gave your husband a glance that said 'Really?' He nodded and shrugged. 'Really.'

...This was weird as hell. But it was oddly endearing too, in a way. You gave Helpy an awkward pat on the head.

"Okay... You decided to spend, what, like thirty dollars just to give him a-" You hesitated. "I guess it's a toy which he'll probably only use once?"

"I doubt he'll only use it once. He's very easily entertained." His point was proven by how Helpy was tugging on your pants with childlike amusement. "And he wanted it so, so badly. He gets to test everything else out. Why not let him try this?"

"You spoil him."

"I can't help it," He dryly muttered. "I'll make sure to take it down before we open for business, but just let him have his fun for now."

You hummed lowly, not convinced. But after taking another peek at your robot bear child/pet thingy, you knew you couldn't say no to a face like that. These boys and their charming acts will be the death of me.

You sighed, "Fine."

Helpy cheered and went to climb the ladder. Michael wrapped an arm around your shoulder to help ease the anxiety of watching him nearly fall multiple times. He did a giddy dance as he prepared to take the leap. 

He jumped.

Crack!

...What?

It happened in the blink of an eye. One second, he was plummeting in the air. The next, he's lying on the cold, hard floor. His head was turned and his eyes were shut peacefully. It seemed like he was sleeping, but he couldn't be. He wasn't moving. Not even a twitch.

"Oh... Oh fuck. Fuck, Michael, he's d--"

Helpy's head cracked back into place. He bounced up with a greater level of energy before, a jolly grin and clapping his hands cutely. He went straight up the ladder again and took another leap. He landed in the ballpit with a huge splash this time. 

You couldn't have been more in shock, but Michael simply stood there casually. You glared at him. "What in the world just happened?" 

"Helpy had an accident, is all." He pressed you against himself reassuringly. "He's a robot, darling. I wouldn't have let him go up there if he couldn't handle it."

...Yup, these boys would definitely be the death of you.

[helloliriels]

"Do you think The Doctor exists?"

Sherlock asked John.

The question came out of nowhere as he was hanging a stocking up by the fire.

There were three, side-by-side. One for John, one for little Rosie, and one for Sherlock.

It took a moment for John's brain to catch up to what Sherlock was asking?

"Sorry ...? The doctor?" John asked, tilting his head as if trying to recall what they had been discussing previously? "What doctor?"

His hand hovered over the tree as it held a snowflake ornament, midway to hanging it on its waiting branch.

"You know ...?" Sherlock shrugged, "The Doctor." He waved his arms to indicate all of the Christmas decorations. "The one who shows up while you are sleeping and delivers christmas toys?"

John's eyes went wide.

"You don't mean ... are you ... ? Are you talking about Santa somehow?"

"No, John," Sherlock Holmes rolled his eyes, leaving all but the word 'idiot' out. "Everyone and their dog knows Santa Claus isn't real! He could never make deliveries on a global scale with just a sleigh and handful of reindeer?!"

"No," John chuckled to himself, "course not. Silly me!"

"He doesn't even have a time machine," Sherlock muttered, sounding a little affronted.

Then he was stepping back to admire his handiwork on the mantle before picking up a strand of garland from the box of decorations, and lifting out a packet of fairy lights.

"Hang on a mo-"

John carefully hung up the ornament - mind still reeling with thoughts - as he made sure he would not drop and shatter anything, before climbing down the stepladder to face Sherlock more directly.

Once he was on firm ground, he came over and turned Sherlock around.

Sherlock froze. Staring down at the closeness of John, at the warmth of his hands touching him ... blinking both at it, and then up at John's now glittering eyes.

"You mean to tell me ...? John asked, voice tinkling with mirth, "...that you grew up ...? With tales of Doctor Who delivering your Christmas presents??!"

John was barely containing his enthusiasm.

"Doctor who?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Oh my God," John was now laughing with his eyes also, "Oh ... my. God! The Doctor?! The timelord with two hearts ... ! The one who travels in a big blue box? That Doctor??"

Sherlock shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and wouldn't meet John's eyes.

"That ... is ... " Sherlock huffed, "isn't that ... how it goes?" He looked around as if he had somehow gotten it all wrong??

Was John making fun of him?

It had certainly made more sense than a giant bearded old elf in red wool sneaking down non-existent chimneys! Or at least he and Mycroft thought so ...

John had stopped laughing. He stepped forward and looked up earnestly as Sherlock, "Will I ever cease to be amazed by how your brain works?" He asked, genuinely amazed.

Sherlock's eyes went wide as John stepped closer and ... his hand brushed the curls away from Sherlock's forehead.

Then he pulled Sherlock in for a kiss.

Now Sherlock's eyes were glittering, looking as if he'd opened every Christmas present early.

"Just know, if I find you kissing any other Doctor on Christmas eve ..." John warned, playfully, "I will be taking back all of your Christmas presents!"

Sherlock grinned, "Doctor who?" he mocked in return, stooping to pull John close again, "I only kiss this one."

John laughed as Sherlock enthusiastically smothered him in kisses. Only pulling away when they heard Rosie coo from the other room.

"Oh, I know what we're watching tonight!" John laughed.

Sherlock pulled John back and placed John's hand over his own heart. "John ...?" he asked, in serious reply to John's teasing, "are you sure you don't have two hearts?"

Just then, Rosie walked in, dragging her floppy bunny behind her ...

"Maybe ... even three?" Sherlock corrected.

John smiled ... knowing his own heart had just melted.

@johnlocky @chinike @rhasima @fluffbyday-smutbynight @lisbeth-kk @gregorovitchworld @john-smiths-jawline @topsyturvy-turtely @chriscalledmesweetie @calaisreno @khorazir @missdeliadili @masterofhounds @whatnext2020 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @bewitched-bullet @kettykika78 @discordantwords @bertytravelsfar @inevitably-johnlocked @red-pen-revolution @sabsi221b @sakshisahu @solarmama @janetm74 @a-victorian-girl @blogstandbygo @purplevatican @totallysilvergirl @7-percent @sarahthecoat @inevitably-johnlocked @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @dontfuckmylifewtf @iwlyanmw @saki101 @sgam76 @kabubsmagga @keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @loki-lock @a-different-equation @mrb488 @youcouldcallmegus @amyreadsandstresses @inatshej @dragonnan @tiverrr

[icycoldninja]

Living his best life (Dante X Fem!Reader fluff)

A/N: Sequel to this fic here. @altissia-09, you might be interested 😁

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" Dante let out a small laugh as a sweet, smiling little girl ran up to him, arms spread wide, mouth even wider in a big, silly grin.

"Hey there, princess!" He replied, lifting her into the air. "What are you doing?"

"I wanna play!" Your daughter cried, kicking her feet happily as she was spun around a few times.

"OK, what do you wanna play?" Dante replied, setting her down. Your daughter ran to her toy box and pulled out a small nerf gun.

"Shooting range!" She declared, happily.

"Alright!" Dante responded, echoing her enthusiasm. The two then marched towards the door, passing you, who happened fo be cooking in the kitchen, in the process.

"And just what are you two goobers doing?" You asked, teasingly.

"We're gonna play shooting range," Your daughter exclaimed, raising her toy gun into the air. "Jackpot!" Dante chuckled at his child's increasing imitation of himself; you rolled your eyes.

"Alright, have fun, you two," You said, laughingly. "And don't forget to be back in time for dinner."

"When is dinner?" Asked Dante.

"Yeah, when is dinner?" Chimed in your daughter.

"At 6. Don't be late, ok?"

"We won't," Dante promised, leaning forward and planting a kiss on your cheek. "Alrighty, come on then, D/N! We're gonna shoot some soda cans!"

"If we have time after, can we visit Uncle Vergil?" Your daughter inquired, as she headed for the front door.

"Uhh..yeah, sure, why, though?" Dante asked, bemused.

"I wanna shoot him!" Replied your daughter, with a grin almost as devilish as Dante's.

"Hell yeah, that's what I like to hear!" Dante cheered, ruffling your daughter's hair.

"Language, Dante!" You called from the kitchen, shaking your head after the two lovable morons left the house. Those goofy dingbats. You loved them so much.

Dante loved you and your daughter too; looking back on that day several years ago, when you tearfully announced your pregnancy on the doorstep of Devil May Cry, Dante was so glad that he'd chosen option B, cause now he was living his best life, and he couldn't be any happier.

[sendpseuds]

20 days until Christmas

"I don't think I've ever seen an elf with a beard before," Padme smiles brightly, giving Anakin's shoulder an affectionate pinch as she sinks down on the couch beside him, waiting for him to lace up his boots.

"Oh, Obi-Wan Kenobi has had several different style eras," Anakin replies with a chuckle, smiling up at the elf perched atop his refrigerator, his chest flooding with the warmth of wonderful memories everytime he catches sight of the little Christmas creature of cloth and cotton , "He has a whole wardrobe."

In the beginning, Obi-Wan hadn't looked too dissimilar to the elves lining store shelves — red felted body with a silly white collar, big blue eyes, and that cheeky little smirk that never fails to make Anakin smile. He wasn't exactly the same, of course, made in his mother's studio instead of in a factory, but that had only made Anakin love him more. Every Christmas she found ways to make it even more magical, adding details to his face, changing his hair, making him little outfits like the tiny knit sweater he wears now.

One year, when Anakin was at that age where all boys think their moms are horribly embarrassing, she sewed Obi-Wan a tiny Canadian tuxedo and gave him frosted tips. A stage made from cardboard boxes and a few strings and she had figured out how to make the poor elf dance like some tortured boy band member as Anakin manned the spotlight [held a flashlight] and failed to stifle his delighted laughter.

She always knew how to win him over.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Padme says softly, her voice trailing up at the end like she's not sure she's remembered it correctly, still looking up at Anakin's childhood toy, "Does the name mean something?"

"Not really," he replies with a shrug. "The last name came later," like the beard and the beauty mark on his cheek, that much Anakin remembers, "I think it was just fun to say."

[The way they would just say it over and over. "Do you like the snowbi Obi?" "You should knowbi by now that Obi-Wan Kenobi loves the snowbi." Anakin always imagined it annoyed the elf greatly.]

"My mom always said I started calling him Obi-Wan that first night," Anakin continues, leaning back into the couch pillows, his vision going a bit fuzzy with the memory, "She always said it was like I knew his name— that I knew him before she'd even finished sewing him." All this time later, Anakin still thinks it might be the truth. "I don't know," he shrugs, shaking his head like it might clear his foggy thoughts, "He's just always been my Obi-Wan."

In the days since Anakin pulled Obi-Wan from that box, it's been difficult not to feel like he's found a piece of himself he hadn't even realized he was missing.

"That's so cute," Padme smiles, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, "I'm glad you found him."

"Me too."

It only takes another minute to grab his jacket and check for his keys and wallet before they're headed out the door to meet Padme's friends for drinks at her favorite cocktail bar but Anakin finds himself lingering for a long moment in the doorway, his fingers gripping the handle, his mind fuzzy and focus far away.

"Everything okay?" Padme asks, reaching out to grip his bicep like she's trying to pull him after her, "I don't want to be late."

"Yeah, sorry, I—" Anakin stutters, trying to identify the strange needling feeling crawling up his spine, "I feel like I'm forgetting—"

That's when it hits him.

I forgot to say goodbye to Obi-Wan.

That little habit came back shockingly fast.

Guilt twists in his gut as his eyes linger on his smiling Christmas elf sitting on top of the fridge in his cozy cable knit sweater and Anakin wants to say it.

He feels like he should.

He doesn't.

"All good. Let's go."

The moment he gets back from the bar, Anakin apologizes.

He's pretty sure Obi-Wan forgives him.

He always does.

[lionlena]

Dyeing your hair… (Joel Miller x reader) one shot

I just saw this photo and couldn't shake the silly thought of dying Joel's hair.

Summary: In an abandoned shop you found a box with men's hair dye.

Warnings: implied age gape, sweet Joel, just fluff, established relationship, just my silly idea

When you stuffed the dark men's hair dye you found in a ruined store into your backpack, you knew it was stupid. But you couldn't help yourself anyway. You just felt like a child who found a toy. Even tampons didn't make you this happy. When you rejoined Joel, he immediately sensed your mood. Not that he didn't enjoy your good mood. He loved you and hated when you were sad or hurt, but… When you had that… THAT smile on your face, he knew you were thinking of something ridiculous.

"What is that smile?"

You shrugged and shook your head.

"What smile? I'm just glad to see you."

"Yeah, of course…"

He walked up to you and looked at you carefully. He knew you were hiding something from him, but he also knew that sooner or later you would reveal it to him. He shook his head and gently brushed the hair away from your cheek. This tender gesture, even though so trivial, immediately made you feel loved. At times Joel could seem uncaring and harsh, but you knew his heart was soft to you.

"Let's go back home." He said and moved forward with his hand on the rifle.

You followed him happily, jumping up and down at the thought of what you were going to do. You weren't even that concerned about the danger. You always felt safe with Joel.

Once you were in your small, dingy apartment in Boston, you decided to show him your find.

Joel snorted at the sight of the box and frowned.

"What do you need this for?"

You smiled that way again and he subconsciously knew what was coming and grunted.

"NO."

"Oh, Joel."

"NO."

"But…"

"NO."

You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest. You looked at him with puppy eyes. You felt like you weren't defeated yet and you really, really wanted to see what Joel looked like when he was younger and his hair didn't have so many gray streaks.

"We'll do it for fun."

Joel rolled his eyes.

"Play cards for fun."

You moved closer to him and decided to change your tactics. You placed your hands on his chest.

"Jooo… Please, please, pretty please… Pleaseeee…"

You felt him soften as he looked down at you and swallowed.

"God, how old are you? 5?"

You didn't give up and slipped your hands under his shirt.

"We'll play your game later."

You knew you had hit a sweet spot when he placed his hands on your hips and squeezed lightly.

"You don't even know if it will work…"

"Hmm… We won't know if we don't use it."

You stood on your tiptoes and nibbled his beard with your teeth, making him growl.

"Fine!"

You giggled happily and pulled him towards the bathroom. You told him to sit on the toilet and started your work. Joel, of course, kept complaining that it was stupid and ridiculous… And so on, but you saw that little smile on his face because he knew he was making you happy. And he liked it when you were this close to him.

Forty minutes later you could admire your work.

And you were delighted! To you, Joel had always been handsome, but when his hair became darker, he looked so sexy. The dye didn't completely cover his gray hair, but the effect was still stunning. Joel noticed your gaze and smiled.

"How do I look? Are you satisfied?"

You grabbed his waistband and pulled him towards you.

"Satisfied is an understatement…"

Joel growled deeply and pulled you closer to him. He kissed you on the lips and when he pulled away he said:

"Good. Because now it's part of my fun."

He sat down on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, and you didn't resist at all. You grabbed his dark hair and moaned in pleasure. You knew you were in for a wild ride…

And you were already wondering if Joel would be persuaded to return to that abandoned store. You were sure there were two more packages of hair dye on the shelf. *

Permanentny tag list: @harriedandharassed

[earthry]

Papas as Caretakers (Headcanons)

Papas as your caretakers, completely sfw and platonic. They love you so much and would take so good care of you.

tw: sfw, fluff, agere, age regression, comfort.

Primo

Gentle, always patient. It’s healing, having him always willing to listen, always there to help you through big feelings when you’re small.

Sometimes when you’re feeling little and he has work to do, he’ll set out a blanket in the garden and lay out some toys, crayons and coloring books so he can both keep an eye on you and tend to his plants.

During the summer when it’s berry season he loves giving you your own basket and watching you run around picking berries and happily making excited noises.

A bit of a health nut. Expect lots of veggies and fruits. It’s okay though, he cuts them into cute little shapes and makes it fun.

Secondo

He can be firm and a little strict sometimes; he’s all about structure and routine. But he also knows how vulnerable you are when you’re little sometimes, how easy it is to upset you into thinking you’re not being good for him, that you’re disappoint him. So when you’re regressed, he’s so very gentle with you.

At first he’d just put some cartoons on and let you watch until you’re sleepy, but now he’ll sit you in his lap on the playmate and play with you. Sometimes he feels awkward but it makes you happy and that’s what counts for him. 

Loves to spoil you, buys you all the toys and snacks you want because he doesn’t know restraint. If he has the money to spend and it makes you happy— then of course he’s gonna whip out his credit card any time you make those little puppy dog eyes at him.

Terzo

He's very attentive and always checking on how you are in your headspace. Works very hard on making sure your environment and time spent regressed is positive. Of course he knows that's not always the case, but he does his best to at least find ways to help or comfort you. Whether it be cuddling you to sleep, getting you snackies, or piling you with stuffies.

Best caretaker to play pretend-- he'll play any role you want and always makes it so much fun. Very dramatic.

Makes bath time fun-- lots of bath toys and washable bath tub fingerpaint. He'll sit with you in his large tub with you in his lap and help you wash your hair and get clean.

Makes meal time fun too. If you like airplanes, will airplane feed food to you even if you think it's too silly or embarrassing. As long as it makes you happy, he doesn't care. He puts happy faces with whipped cream and syrup on pancakes, has the cutest tupperware of your favorite cartoon characters.

Will tell you that you're special and perfect and that he loves taking care of you every chance he gets.

Copia

Stuffed animals galore. You have so many! A lot of them are gifts from Copia. He calls them your personal army of cuddle buddies and gives them funny little voices sometimes. 

Enjoys cartoons just as much as you too. Lots of snuggle time while watching cartoons and happily sipping on juice together-- him from a juice box and yours from a sippy cup or a bottle (whichever you prefer). 

Always very silly and loves to make you giggle and squeal with laughter whether it be tickling you, making silly shows with your stuffies, or telling you stories.

Sometimes has trouble being strict. He's so, so susceptible to your puppy dog eyes. You're just too cute for him!

Melts when you tell him he's the best papa or daddy in the whole wide world.

Will always reassure you if you need reassurance about regressing or if you're worried that you're too much trouble for him. You are not too much trouble for him, you are the perfect amount of trouble for him.