#mister and miss rabbit

[that-theaven]

Which couple should I draw?

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

so the winnie the pooh au is going great

[askfacultystaff]

Note: Never underestimate Miss Black Rabbit

*Miss Black Rabbit glaring at Rama's enemies*

Rama's enemies be like:

(Looks like Rama's enemies got scared by her, especially her scary look -v-)

[parme-san]

calling this one "everything in my drawing app that would otherwise never see the light of day" 👍

[i-like-polls]

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 2: CHARLES SMITH, THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 

synopsis: charles makes sure you're getting on okay as you continue to try to evade arthur (poorly, might i add).

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: i almost leaked this to my classmate when sending her a link. nearly shat myself but we're all good this is all still under wraps

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

Charles was right. Even though you want to help, there’s really nothing to do besides hunt – and the good Lord knows you’re useless when it comes to that.

For the last day or so, you’ve just been hanging around the garage-made-kitchen. Even though Javier told you you weren’t intruding (and that “everyone needs shelter”), you feel like you are. It’s not a good feeling. So you stayed outside, in the company of a man who introduced himself as Simon Pearson and the camp cook, Charles, and occasionally Javier when he found the time to swing by. 

A fair few people have introduced themselves as well – Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Lenny Summers, Reverend Orville Swanson, Leopold Strauss (who just oozed sleaze), Miss Karen Jones, Miss Tilly Jackson, Miss Mary-Beth Gaskill, and little Jack alongside his mother, Miss Abigail Roberts. Those who didn’t directly introduce themselves to you were pointed out by Karen and you were given a run-down on them.

So far, these are the people as you know them: Missus Sadie Adler is a grieving, skittish widow. Uncle is a lazy sack of shit. John Marston is better at being wolf food than being a father. Miss Susan Grimshaw is stubborn (but caring – somewhat like how neighborhood mamas care). Miss Molly O’Shea has a stick so far up her ass she spits splinters when she talks. The man tied up in the barn, Kieran Duffy, is an O’Driscoll (or ex-O’Driscoll, if what he insists is true is really true). Oh – and the blond man that punched Bill? That’s Micah Bell: a man with the eye of a viper tasting the air and the nose of a shark waiting for blood in the water. From what you’ve deduced, his general vibe is “I would take sexual relationship advice from Bill Cosby if given the chance.”

All in all, a healthily diverse group of people – even if the traits that make them diverse aren’t all that desirable. (Mostly Micah’s. Especially Micah’s.)

But Charles is nice enough. So you’ve stuck with Charles. Even if you need to hang around Pearson to hang out with him. Pearson isn’t an intrinsically bad guy, just… a little off-putting.

Right now, you’re able to put your hands to use by opening canned vegetables and putting them in the cauldron-looking pot Pearson has for rabbit stew. Across the table, Charles is butchering and deboning a rabbit as best he can with his injured hand. You try your best to keep your eyes on the cans of carrots and celery you’re opening. 

There’s footsteps. You glance up. It’s Arthur. You look back down. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Pearson gripes to no one in particular. 

You watch Arthur approach the fire and he holds his hands out towards the coals in your peripheral vision. He shakes his head. “Ah, we’re okay.”

“We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For, what – ten, twelve people?” Pearson gestures over to where you and Charles are working. “Even more with them and that widow.”

Despite yourself, you can feel the tips of your ears start to burn. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Needing to eat? If anything, Pearson should be the one feeling embarrassed for talking about you in front of you. Yeah… that’s it. 

Pearson continues. “When I was in the Navy…”

Arthur immediately interrupts him. “I – I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mister Pearson.”

And yet, he keeps going despite Arthur’s protest. “We were stranded at sea… for fifty days.”

“And you, unfortunately, survived,” Arthur drawls. 

You glance up at him from underneath your eyelashes and smile. His eye catches yours, and your gaze drops, as does your smile. Instead, you work on getting your finger under the tab of a can of chopped onions – which is hard, considering the thickness of your gloves.

You feel Arthur’s eyes leave you and let out a soft sigh of relief that clouds in front of your face. Charles holds out his knife to you. You tip the top of the can towards him, and he wedges the (bloody – ew) blade of his knife underneath the tab and opens it. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You clench your jaw when you feel Arthur’s eyes on you again – yes, very briefly, but still. You can count the number of times you’ve made eye contact with him on one hand, and you don’t want to add to that total. 

Thankfully, Pearson seems ignorant to your plight and continues complaining. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn’t able to get supplies in!”

“Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short,” Arthur snaps. “We’ll survive. We always have. And if needs be, we can eat you – you’re the fattest.”

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh and clear your throat to mask any noise you might’ve made. You pour the onions in the pot and glance at the rabbit carcass, now carved up and stripped of meat.

“Damn, there’s nothing left on that thing,” you say. “You’re good at that.”

Charles nods in response. “If you’re done, you can put it on the fire.”

You lift the pot with a grunt – it’s heavier than you expected, but nothing you can’t handle. You move over to the coals and hang the pot on a hook over the fire while Pearson and Arthur continue talking. 

“I sent Lenny and Bill hunting, and they found nothing,” Pearson says. 

“Well, Lenny’s more into book learnin’ than huntin’,” Arthur says. You perk up at that. “Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read, ain’t no wonder they haven’t found –”

“Enough of this,” Charles interrupts. Even though his voice is relatively quiet and deep, it still cuts through whatever Arthur was planning on prattling on about. “We’ll go find something. Come on, Arthur.”

“Well, take them.” Arthur gestures vaguely in your direction. “Since they seem so keen on helpin’ out, and all.”

“I, um…” You shake your head. “No, thanks.”

“They don’t even know how to hold a rifle correctly,” Charles says. (His bluntness stings a little, but it’s true. You know how to hold a handgun, but not these old-timey types.) “If they knew how to hunt, we would’ve gone already.”

Arthur sighs and shrugs. “If you insist.”

“Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson hurries over to the table you and Charles had been working at earlier. He pulls out a can from the small pile you had organized and tosses it to Arthur. “You’re gonna need something to eat out there.”

“Hm… “assorted, salted offal”,” Arthur reads off the label. He levels Pearson with a dead stare. “Starving would be preferable.”

You stifle a laugh and, again, clear your throat.

“Come on, let’s go,” Charles says, adjusting the bandage on his hand. 

“You can’t go huntin’,” Arthur says. “Look at your hand.”

“I can’t stay here listening to you two,” Charles says. He gestures to you without looking at you. “The conversation they make is tolerable, but, again, they can’t hunt. Look, if there’s game in those hills, I’ll find it – and you can kill it.”

“You need to rest, Charles,” Arthur insists.

“You think this is rest?” Charles’ face twists into a scowl, then he turns and walks towards his horse with a “Come along.”

Arthur scoffs under his breath and his eyes flick to you. You do your best to suppress the temptation to duck away from his gaze, as piercing as it is. You win, and he looks away, following Charles to the hitching post. They quickly mount up and ride out.

You draw your shoulders up to your ears and shudder. When Pearson shoots you a questioning glance, you excuse it with “What? It’s cold.”

When a few seconds have passed, you roll your shoulders back. You settle down on the chair that’s inside the kitchen, just watching a few late, fat snowflakes fall outside.

After a good ten minutes of watching Pearson and playing with your hands, you figure he’ll be fine on his own and wander out along the footpaths in the snow. You find who you’re looking for quickly. 

Lenny gives you a polite nod as you stand across from him, the fire on the ground separating you two. He has a rifle – the sight of which doesn’t surprise you as much as it first did – and he settles the butt of the gun in the inner corner of his elbow. 

“You’re Lenny, right?” You try. 

“Yeah. And you’re…” Lenny gives your name. You nod in response.

“I just…” You clear your throat and bat away the embarrassment and anxiety that’s creeping up on you – something that always comes with approaching strangers. “Arthur mentioned that you like books. I, uh… I read, too. Sometimes.”

“Really?” Lenny says. “What kinda books have they got out in the Mojave?”

You look down at the fire and think, trying to come up with some excuse and build your backstory. “We don’t have a lot of books – I live in a pretty isolated part of the desert. But there’s traders, and they bring medical books, and a few storybooks. I like the medicine books they bring. You?”

Lenny seems to hesitate for a moment. “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” You hum. “Huh. Poems are nice.”

There’s a lapse in conversation. You don’t know how to fill it. You say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Micah’s kinda a prick, right?” You blurt out. 

Your eyes snap up to Lenny’s face. He’s surprised, but his face quickly melts into a smile and he laughs. You feel the coil of anxiety in your stomach loosen. 

“Why, I didn’t expect you to come out and say it,” he says. “But your assessment is correct.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You laugh nervously, your eyes falling to the fire again. “I just get bad vibes from the guy.”

“Bad vibes?” Lenny echoes. 

The coil is tight again. You think for a moment. “Uh, yeah. One of the tribes I live with believes in, um… vibrational energy, that kinda thing. When you look at someone and you get a bad feeling without knowing them that well, they give you bad vibes.”

“Hold on,” Lenny says. “Vibrational energy?”

You nod and continue to pull things out of your ass and curse Lenny for being scholarly. “Yeah. Life… um, well. I don’t remember the explanation too well. But I remember White Bird – the Sorrows’ shaman – saying…”

You tilt your head and look to the side and think for a moment.  “He said, “All life is music – all music is rhythmic – all rhythm is life.” And that somehow relates to vibrations. I don’t know, you seem smart. Maybe you can understand what he was talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it sure sounds pretty,” Lenny says. 

“They’re good people,” you say. “Maybe you’d like to meet them someday – if you’re ever so far west you’re in the desert, I mean.”

Why the fuck did I say that?! You curse yourself in your head. They’re not real! The Dead Horses and the Sorrows and Joshua Graham and Daniel are all made up! They’re fictional characters –

“I don’t know, maybe,” Lenny says. “For now, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be goin’ that far.”

You hum and pretend to act disappointed while you fight the urge to crumple in on yourself in relief. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you’d like them. They’re interesting people, especially the Sorrows. Though, Joshua…”

You trail off as you check over your shoulder. Hoofbeats, you’re pretty sure. And you’re right – Arthur and Charles are riding back into camp, a dead, snow-dappled doe on the back of each horse.

“Brought some food back, boys,” Arthur calls.

They both hitch their horses at the post and hoist the limp does onto their shoulders, carrying them over to the kitchen. 

You look back at Lenny and jab a thumb over your shoulder at them. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think so,” Lenny says. “From what I seen, Arthur’s a butcher – a mean one, at that. I don’t think he’ll like it if his work’s disturbed.”

“That’s fair,” you hum. (Secretly, you want to thank Lenny profusely. You already know that Arthur’s a mean man – you don’t want to see him even meaner.)

You check over your shoulder again. From where you’re standing, you can see an old man has taken your seat in the kitchen, and you can hear Arthur giving him hell for whatever reason. What was his name again… Uncle, maybe?

Unfortunately, your staring caught Uncle’s eye. He beckons you over with a wave of his hand. You give Lenny a quiet, polite “See you later,” and head over, trudging through the thick layer of snow that’s settled on the ground.

“Yeah?” You nod at Uncle as soon as you step into the kitchen. You sidle up to the fire, warming yourself with the smoldering embers. 

“Thought it’d do Arthur some good to see the…” – Uncle waves you up-and-down – “…wonders some modernity will do you.”

“What? Modernity?” You repeat back. You tell yourself to calm down – you haven’t been found out. (Not yet.) “I’m far from modern.”

“Why, you’re perfectly modern!” Uncle says. 

“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and turn away. 

Your eyes catch Arthur wrapping wire around the back ankles of one of the doe corpses. He pulls it taut, then hooks both legs to the deer hoist. He lifts it with a grunt and puts the hoist on the hook sticking out of the wall. You avert your eyes before he turns around. 

“Well, I mean…” You shrug. “I guess I’m… sort of modern? But I don’t see any issue with what Arthur’s doing. He’s just hunting.”

Arthur’s eyes fly to you again when you say his name. You wish that the Spanish Flu had come sooner so you could wear a facemask to hide your pursed lips and clenched jaw. After a moment, he looks away.

“What a surprise,” Arthur drawls, “to find the camp rat loiterin’ around in the kitchen, chargin’ dimes for his thoughts.”

He pulls away from the deer hoist and walks over to the fire. He keeps a healthy distance, but you can still feel some sort of heat coming from him when he stands next to you. You guess a man that tall and broad would be a furnace in cold like this. 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Uncle asks. “I feel we haven’t spoken for days.”

“I do my utmost to avoid you,” Arthur retorts.

Charles approaches the fire, standing on your other side. He gives you a small look that says “Ignore them. They can, and will, go on for hours like this.”

Uncle looks over at you and laughs. “He loves me, really. It’s his… sad way of showing affection.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You and Arthur turn to look at each other. You hadn’t meant to speak over him, and from the kind of-surprised look he’s sending your way, you think he didn’t mean to speak over you, either. You nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“It isn’t.” He turns back to face Uncle and waves a hand. “Now shoot, get lost.”

“Well…” Uncle shrugs and stands. “See y’all later.”

Pearson swipes a bottle from Uncle as he steps out. He then looks over at one of the deer. “See you got on just fine.”

Arthur nods toward Charles’ direction. “Charles is a wonder.”

“Have a drink, my friends.” Pearson holds out the bottle across the fire. “Ya earned it.”

Arthur takes the bottle after you wave it away. He takes a swig and sputters, coughing. “Jesus!” His voice cracks. “What is that?”

He passes the bottle to Charles, who sniffs the rim and takes a tentative sip. 

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing – the only thing!” Pearson laughs as Charles hands the bottle back. “Keeps you sane, it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur glances at Charles and waves a hand in his general direction. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Charles says. 

He makes eye contact with you and nods towards the cabins, indicating for you to follow. You do so while listening to Arthur and Pearson talk about skinning the deer. (And you hide a smile when Arthur asks Pearson if he gets to skin him, too. He’s mean, but at least he’s funny with it.)

“You settling in okay?” Charles asks when you’re in a somewhat secluded area. It’s not all that isolated, but it’s out of earshot for most people.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not being a massive asshole about everything.”

“You’re lost,” he says. (You notice he leaves out the very obvious “and scared” he could’ve tacked on the end.) “And you need help. It would be cruel not to give it to you.”

Yeah, totally! You think to yourself. You’re literally one of the kindest people alive and I’m… what? A scumbag that’s taking advantage of you? Oh, it’s so sweet that you’re ignoring the blatant lies I’m throwing in your face! Thank you, Charles! Thanks a fucking million.

“Still. Thank you,” you say instead. “You could’ve easily kicked me out in the snow and left me to freeze.” 

“We could’ve.” Charles looks out at the horizon. The way he pauses almost makes you think he’s considering it. “But we didn’t.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

Apparently, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you or continue the conversation at all. After a few moments, you awkwardly hook your thumb over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna, uh…” You nod. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?”

Charles is still looking out at the treeline, looking at the way the snow weighs down the leafless trees and the way even the smallest sound could disrupt everything. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3

Part 2

Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!

The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”

“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”

“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”

Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”

Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”

“Ah.”

Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.

“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.

Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.

“Your Dad?”

Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.

“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”

Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”

“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”

“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.

“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”

Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”

Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.

“So, con artists or mad scientists?”

“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.

“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.

“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”

“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.

“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.

“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.

“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”

“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”

“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”

Part 4

[alientee]

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit reader part 3

I lied there will be a fourth part 🤣 sorry I’ve been gone for so long. By the way this amazing art was drawn by @klaudia96art it’s based on this story I just had to have me and my demon drawn lol

Alastor and you made it back to the hotel without any more problems, you both headed towards the kitchen the kitchen. “Alright darling I’ll get the ingredients out, I can’t wait to taste your cooking once more.” You set your gift down on the table pulling your hair back. “Well considering I’ve spent so much time with your mom I bet it’ll taste just as good as hers.”

You start to wash your hands and hear something crash to the ground. As you turn around Alastor is looking at you with a thin smile his eyes as wide as they can get. “H-how is my ma….I’m sure she has her doubts that id ever show up in heaven seeing as it’s been so long” You walk towards him bringing your hand up to caress his face. He leans into your touch his eyes looking more gentle than crazed as usual. When it came to his mother Alastor wanted nothing more than to make sure she was happy, her opinion is what mattered most in the world. "She always say’s she just hopes your alright and happy wherever you are. And that she misses you.”

Alastor rest his head into your neck, inhaling your scent. It had been so long since he’s been able to hold you, to feel content again. Usually he hates being touched by others, it feels like a disgusting burn he can’t get rid of. He was never a fan of touch unless he initiated it, unless it was from his mother and you were soon added to the equation. A thought hit him and once again he was tense pulling back looking at you frantically like an actual deer caught in headlights.

“Please don’t tell her why I’m down here. It would break her heart, and I can’t stand the thought of knowing I disappointed her.” You could feel his fingers tighten on your shoulder, any harder and he would break skin. As you tried to calm him down you realized just how much your husband was still there. Yes he was a killer and a cannibal who had no problem taking in the joy in the suffering of others. But he was still a mamas boy through and through.

“Alastor I have to tell your mom I saw you she misses you so much. She just wants to know you’re doing ok. But I won’t tell her…. Why you’re down here, it’s not my story to tell anyway.” He paused for a moment sighing “I suppose that’s good enough for me….. should we start cooking?”

“Oh no mister I’m cooking. Your gonna sit down and relax” you push alastor to the table pulling out a chair for him “But dear-“ “No buts! It’s been so long since I cooked for you. I missed spoiling my husband hehe.” Alastor could only sigh and lean both arms on the table his hand resting in his hands looking at you with that large goofy smile. “If you insist sugar”

As you began to cook more of the residents started to show up much to alastor an annoyance. Angel was the first one to walk through. “Wow toots you got it smelling great in here! Watcha cooking?” You giggled, you were kinda embaressed to say you went overboard with the cooking. “Well I made jambalaya, shrimp and grits, fried chicken, corn bread and a peach cobbler. Husk almost spits out his drink at the spread your making.

“I know I went to overboard, it’s just been so long since I’ve cooked for alastor I wanted to make all his favorites minus the cobbler. Feel free to join us I know we won’t eat it all.” You hear alastor muttering under his breath that the others could leave. You went back to cooking as the rest of the residents filled in but you stare at Charlie when she entered with a man who looked just like her. When both your eyes lock he looks at Charlie happily. “Charlie is this the angel you were telling me about?”

You leave the stove and walk towards him “hello I’m ____,It’s nice to meet you.” Lucifer pulls your hand up to his lips kissing it. “Charmed, it’s a pleasure to meet you” the room is filled with a sound of large static making everyone cringe. Lucifer is the only one who looks bored, rolling his eyes. “Problem bell hop?” Alastor is by your side in an instant.

“Keep your mouth away from my wife” Lucifer looks at you and alastor back and forth until his eyes land on Charlie. “So you weren’t kidding, he’s actually married….. to them…..and you agreed to marry him willingly not by force?” He looks back at you and seeing you nod in confirmation is all he needs for him to put a deadpan look on his face. “…….But you’re way out of his league like waaaaaay out of his league. Plus I don’t think Bell hop boy here knows how to…..satisfy needs that’s arnt cananalistic?” “I beg your pardon? Why the fuck does everyone keep bringing that up?”

You shake your head as you hear angel dust laughing in the back ground. Saying how he had said the same thing earlier, in between laughs. “Yes so I’ve been told, and I think he’s in my league just fine, I can’t wait to show y’all the pictures after dinner, alastor was so handsome hehe.” Alastor looks caught off guard for a second before grabbing your shoulder. “Now dear I’m sure no one wants to see that-“

“He’s lying”

“We all want to see it”

“My rival in hissss youth? Excellent ammunition for later batlesssss”

Alastor just looks more annoyed but seeing your big doe eyes looking at him reminding him so much of why he couldn’t resist your wims when you were both alive. “Very well but you will only see the pictures of my choosing and there will be no more than 3” Everyone groaned but accepted it knowing alastor shouldn’t be pushed over the edge. “Foods ready! I hope y’all like it” Everyone starts to make a plate except for alastor, you make him two plates with all the food you made on them except for the dessert.

While you serve him his plate kissing his cheek everyone can’t seem to stop staring,even nifty. Seeing the very independent radio demon getting served with a goofy smile on his face was so domestic and strange. But what no one else expected was for you to make a plate for Lucifer. He started thanking you profusely looking really shy about it. Everyone else was trying to scoot away from alastor who was starting to let his shadow tendrils rise. “Thank you! So much but I’m… you didn’t have too. Not that I’m not grateful! It’s very sweet of you”

“It’s my pleasure you are the king after all.” “Oh NO no no no no no. Please treat me like any other guest. I hate all the kingly stuff haha. How bout I make you a plate full of pancakes tomorrow?” You shrug stating you’re only here for today but you appreciated the offer.” Cherri bomb looked at you giving you a crooked smile. “So tell us about you and smiley, any good stories?” You tried to think of the least embarrassing but most entertaining memory you can think of.

“Well now that I know Al’s past this story makes much more sense now. Me and him went camping with some of my friends. Mind you I’ve known these people for over 10 years. One of my friends got really drunk and ended up falling off a cliff but he swear he was pushed, but none of us believed him because he was waisted. Then a bear ended up chasing him because he had leftover food in his pocket. He just had terrible luck the whole trip and guess who was near him that whole time.”

Everyone turned to look at alastor who continues to eat with a thin smile. “What? He talked over everyone, made crude jokes to my wife, and thought he could play jokes on ME of all people. The trip was more enjoyable with him unconscious. He should consider himself lucky he’s not dead, had he not been my wife’s good friend he wouldn’t have left the camp grounds.”

“I still can’t believe all of that really was you” You made your way back to the sink to clean the dishes, you could hear all the complements on your food and while you thanked them you could feel something pulling at your side. It’s nifty, and it looks like she’s trying to reach for your face. “A mess! Don’t worry I’ll get it miss.” You didn’t know what on earth she was taking about untill you felt someone come behind you and a wet sensation on your cheek.

It didn’t dawn on you what happened until you saw Alastor behind you. You blush in embarrassment realizing that he licked your cheek. “You had a little sauce on your face dear, now come sit and eat” you were about to comment until angel muttered. “I can’t believe I got that” you turned to see him holding his phone up, he must’ve wanted to take pictures of you and alastor. Speaking of alastor you don’t think you could move fast enough to stop him from pouncing at angel dust.

Speaking of alastor you don’t think you could move fast enough to stop him from pouncing at angel dust. “Alastor No!” Lucky enough Lucifer had been enough to restrain him. But if looks could kill both Lucifer and Angel would be dead by now. Seeing as the “big dick in charge” had a hold on Alastor, Angel Dust decided to get one final jab in. “Can you tell us a story now of why Ole freak face is sad in the sack?”

Too bad for him Lucifer’s grip couldn’t hold shadows though.

This was not proof read much~

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim @thereeallink @sakuraluna2468 @fandomfan-102 @crystal-freak24

[1lenii]

Is that my Hair Tie?

42/1610!Miles x F!Reader

basically everytime miles is over, he take something to remember you by when he’s on prowler duties (more often then not a hair tie)

Not really angst(?) but definitely fluff

Reader knows Miles is the Prowler ‼️

Translate the Spanish line Might do another part to this

Enjoy⭐️

****************************************************

“Miles!! Hey baby, why you over so late?”

(Y/N) was wrapped in a towel seemingly ready to shower as she greeted Miles who was coming in through her window

“Just wanted to spend some time with you before I left for…”

Miles trails off averting your eyes, looking at the feet of your bed frame, while leaning on the window pain in the process.

(Y/N) clicks her tongue in acknowledgement shuffling from her previous spot

“Oh.. lemme shower first, yea?”

“Oh yea go for it” Miles mumbles

Giving Miles a light kiss, she made her way to the bathroom closing the door behind her, few seconds later hearing the water hit the bathtub floor, going down the drain

Miles is left with his thoughts as he scans (Y/N) room, noticing the rhinestone covered headboard

The boxes of Jordan which he bought a while back so they could match

The pile of folded clothes ready to be put away

The way the stuffed animals sit organized on her bed from biggest to smallest

And the jewelry pieces on their respected hangers on her vanity

Out of all of these extravagant things Miles takes particular interest in a hair tie.

A spiral hair tie, the colors of purple and pink melting into 1 with a detachable heart charm

Pushing off the window pane, Miles makes his way to the desk with the Hair tie, carefully grabbing it and slipping it on his wrist which is now dangling in front of his face admiring it

Only breaking out of this trance when he heard the running water shut off, he quickly took a seat on (Y/N) bed

Not long after she comes out of the bathroom refreshed and her nightwear now making her way over to Miles

Taking a seat next Miles, embracing in a tight warm and heartfelt hug

“How long”

“What?”

“How long are you gonna be gone for?”

“..3 days max”

“I’ll miss you oka?”

“Y yo mucho más”

“Estoy enserio Miles, quiero que te cuides”

“I will ma, when have I ever not came back”

“Not presently”

“And never will”

Miles ended the conversation by pressing a kiss to (Y/N) lips, urging her to take comfort in her bed, slipping in with her.

(Y/N) wraps her arms around his torso pressing her forehead against his chest making sure to not let go.

Holding him till the morning.

Till he had to leave.

Till…

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

*3 days later, Miles came back from his duties as vigilante, and here we have Him and (Y/N) cuddling as soon as she cooked him to eat, now they are in each other embrace on the verge on sleeping*

“Hey Miles”

“Yea..?”

“Is that my hair tie?”

“No…”

“It totally is isn’t it, so you had it the whole time I was looking for it”

“…”

“No fake sleeping you faker” (Y/N) said poking at his face

“Not as fake as that stuffed rabbit you got there” he’s says opening one eye

“Your gotta be nice to mister hopps”

“You named it…”

“Duhh”

****************************************************

[smol-bby-bear]

Animal Teddy Name Ideas

Fox

🦊 Foxy

🦊 Amber

🦊 Autumn

🦊 Frankie

🦊 Blaze

🦊 Ember

🦊 Hunter

🦊 Pumpkin

🦊 Ash

🦊 Mister/Miss Fox

🦊 Red

🦊 Bandit

🦊 Swiper

Cat

🐱 Whiskers

🐱 Buttons

🐱 Mittons

🐱 Meow

🐱 Puss

🐱 Fluffy

🐱 Mochi

Dog

🐶 Pluto (Mickey Mouse & Friends)

🐶 Goofy (Mickey Mouse & Friends)

🐶 Snoopy (Snoopy)

🐶 Scooby/Scoob (Scooby-Doo)

🐶 Bolt (Bolt)

Deer

🦌 Fawn

🦌 Bambi (Bambi)

🦌 Fauna

🦌 Sven (Frozen)

🦌 Aura

🦌 Nova

Shark

🦈 Chomp/Chomper

🦈 Finn

🦈 Sharky/Sharko

🦈 Blue

🦈 Aqua

🦈 Spike

🦈 Bruce (Finding Nemo)

🦈 Mister Nibbles

🦈 Bubbles

🦈 Nom Nom

🦈 Splash

Bunny/Rabbit

🐰 Bun Bun

🐰 Hopps

🐰 Judy Hopps (Zootopia)

🐰 Fluffy

🐰 Flopsy

🐰 Skippy

🐰 Carrot

🐰 Nibbles/Nibbler

🐰 Cinnabon

🐰 Willow

🐰 Thumper (Bambi)

🐰 Peter/Flopsy/Mopsy/Cotton-Tail (Peter Rabbit)

🐰 Lola (Loony Tunes)

Cow

🐄 Moo

🐄 Daisy

🐄 Bessie

🐄 Milkshake

🐄 Buttercup

🐄 Dottie

Bear

🐻 Mister Bear

🐻 Teddy Bear

🐻 Grizzle/Grizzly

🐻 Honey

🐻 Pooh Bear (Winnie the Pooh)

🐻 Winnie (Winnie the Pooh)

Frog

🐸 Pickles

🐸 Hopps

🐸 Kermit (The Muppets)

🐸 Ribbet

Panda/Red Panda

🐼 Panda Pop

🐼 Oreo

🐼 Po (Kung Fu Panda)

🐼 Bamboo

🐼 Pandy

Pig

🐷 Oink

🐷 Piglet (Winnie the Pooh)

🐷 Pinky

🐷 Babe (Babe)

🐷 Puddle

🐷 Hamm (Toy Story)

🐷 Miss Piggy (The Muppets)

🐷 Pumbaa (Lion King)

Monkey

🐵 George (Curious George)

🐵 Abu (Aladdin)

🐵 Cheeky/Cheeky Monkey

🐵 Boots (Dora)

🐵 Banana/Nana

🐵 Bongo

Duck

🦆 Quack

🦆 Duck

🦆 Daffy (Loony Tunes)

🦆 Donald Duck (Mickey Mouse & Friends)

🦆 Bill

🦆 Puddles

🦆 Waddles

🦆 Splash

Big Cats (Ex. Lions, Tigers, Cheetahs)

🦁 Rawr

🦁 Simba (Lion King)

🦁 Nala (Lion King)

🦁 Mufasa (Lion King)

🦁 Scar (Lion King)

🦁 Majesty

Lamb

🐑 Baa

🐑 Lamby

🐑 Spring

🐑 Blossom

🐑 Lavender

🐑 Lucky

🐑 Wooly

[angiechia]

"Little Brother"

John joins the gang

No ship intended, just a short random thing i wrote instead of sleeping :P

☆☆☆

Some random day in 1885

The day had been awful for Arthur.

It started with some promise, as Hosea suggested a job robbing a dressmaker in Saint Denis. Arthur agreed without realizing he'd end up running from three huge dogs guarding the lady’s house like loyal bodyguards, ready to bite and tear anyone who got too close. Meanwhile, Hosea was "distracting" the lady—if you could even call it that. It looked more like he was courting her.

After all that, Arthur’s cut was only 10 dollars. Not much, he thought, but he had no choice but to take it. He decided to blow off some steam at a saloon, where some fellow tried to pull a fast one on him and picked a fight. With his ego far too big for a man of just 22, Arthur accepted the challenge, even though the drunk was twice his size.

After getting beaten up, Arthur was in a foul mood. The only thing that might calm him down was a ride out in the open, so that’s what he did.

For some reason, he chose to ride through the Bayou, a place known for its giant gators and treacherous swamps. Lucky for him, Boadicea was a brave mare—brave against gunfire, hunters, and even ferocious wolves. But gators? They scared the hell out of her, which Arthur learned when a sleeping gator spooked her. She threw him off, sending him tumbling into the mud, and he had to scramble away from the reptile, who had just been trying to get some sleep.

After that, Arthur figured he’d distract himself by picking up a newspaper from a kid selling them in Rhodes. Maybe there’d be something interesting going on. But his heart sank when he read the newlyweds section and saw a name he knew too well.

Mary Gillis had gotten married.

Or rather, Mary Linton now.

He let out a deep sigh and threw the paper in the trash, anger boiling inside him. That’s it, he thought, I’m heading back to camp. I need some sleep.

Luckily, nothing much happened on his ride back to camp. If he was fortunate, he’d get to feast on Pearson’s stew tonight, and Miss Grimshaw would probably make him take a good soak in the nearest river.

When he arrived, he left Boadicea with the other horses and tried to sneak over to his tent, hoping to avoid Hosea, Dutch, Grimshaw, or Pearson. They were always asking favors, and being the youngest in the gang, that burden often fell on him.

“There you are, Mister Morgan!” Miss Grimshaw’s voice called out. He sighed. “I was just about to ask if you could fetch me a—My word! What in the world happened to you?” the woman exclaimed, seeing him covered in mud.

“…I fell” Telling her his horse threw him off seemed a bit embarrassing, right?

“Sure looks like it… Let me see—” She moved in quick to grab his hat, probably planning to clean it up and send him off to wash, but Arthur stepped back, gently pushing her hands away. Nobody touched his hat.

“Whoa there! I reckon I’m just fine, Miss Grimshaw. Just need a little sleep.”

“You smell like you’ve been rollin’ in a cesspool, young man! I ain’t havin’ you stinkin’ up the camp. Get yourself cleaned up, you hear?” Her voice took on a sharper edge, and Arthur rolled his eyes, heading toward the river.

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, tossing his jacket on the ground. Miss Grimshaw snatched it up with a huff, planning to wash it later.

His bath was quick but did the trick, and once he was cleaned up, he headed back to camp.

“Much better, Arthur!” she said with a clap of approval as he walked past her, making him feel a bit sheepish. Once again, he made for his tent, but before he could enter, another voice stopped him.

“Mr. Morgan!” It was Pearson, the camp cook.

Arthur let out another weary sigh and made his way over to the “kitchen,” if you could call it that. “Mr. Pearson,” he greeted, his tone dry.

“I’ve had a hankerin’ for some rabbit lately,” Pearson said as he skillfully chopped vegetables. Dinner was close, the sun sinking fast.

“Rabbit?”

“Yep! Them big ones you find out on the prairies. Think you could hunt me some for tomorrow?”

At least he didn’t need it now. “Sure,” Arthur agreed, giving a nod before turning once more toward his tent. Just as he was about to step inside, he was intercepted by...

“There ya are, Arthur!” Dutch Van Der Linde.

"Now what, Dutch?" Years of trust between them allowed for a more relaxed exchange.

"Son, I heard about Mary..."

"No."

"I know, I know, Arthur. You probably don’t wanna talk about her, but… well, I remember how much you cared."

"Dutch," Arthur grumbled, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

"What I’m tryin’ to say is there’s plenty of women out there, son, plenty! You can find another."

Arthur got angry, pushing open the tent flaps without stepping inside yet. "Mary’s in the past!" he lied. "It doesn’t hurt 'cause I’m over it, and I don’t want another woman, thank you!" His tone betrayed him.

Arthur entered his tent and let the canvas flaps fall behind him, shutting Dutch out. He ran his hands over his face in frustration, cursing silently while quickly untying the bandana from his neck and shrugging off his suspenders. That’s when he heard something coming from his bed—a snore.

Arthur fumbled around his desk until he found the gas lamp and lit it. As the tent filled with light, his eyes landed on a kid with dark hair sprawled out awkwardly on his bed, uncovered, mouth open, drooling on his pillow with crooked teeth.

"And why in the hell is there a damn kid in my bed?!" Arthur bellowed from inside the tent, waking the boy with a start.

"Ah, that’s John," Dutch replied from outside. "Hosea and I rescued him today; they were gonna hang him."

"Wha... what’s goin' on?" the boy, around twelve years old, mumbled, his face barely masking the confusion as he looked up at the man before him.

"And you gave him my bed?!" Arthur got out from his tent, incredulity etched across his face, while Dutch beamed like he’d done the best deed of the day.

"Well, we didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You took your time."

"Well, here I am. But who’da thought we’d turn into a damn orphanage and start adoptin’ brats?"

"What’d you call me, old man?!" the kid hollered from behind him.

Arthur, surprised, turned slowly to face John, repeating what he’d just heard. "Old man? Old man?! I’m twenty-two!"

"Yeah, twenty-two in each foot. You’re older than a barrel of aged whiskey."

Arthur resisted the urge to pounce on the quick-tongued kid. "Who do you think you are, you little...?"

"But ain't this a heart-warmin’ sight?" Dutch chimed in with a smile. "He’s just like you were when we found you."

"At least I respected my elders," Arthur shot back, glaring at the kid sprawled in his bed. "Outta my bed, now!"

"I ain’t movin’ nowhere, old man!" John retorted.

"Oh, come on, Arthur, the boy’s exhausted. You know what it’s like to be nearly hanged? First, they tighten that noose 'round your neck so hard you can barely breathe, and when they hang you, crack, your neck snaps. Poor little John must’ve been scared outta his wits."

Arthur glanced at the kid again, who now put on a pitiful face, nodding along.

"This is a joke, right?" Arthur said, exasperated.

"You wouldn’t mind sleepin’ under the stars tonight, would ya?" Dutch asked.

Arthur looked at the man, then at the kid, sighed, and said, "Just… don’t touch my stuff," with a stern voice.

"Relax, I won’t touch your junk," little John said innocently as he settled back into bed.

"Little shit..." Arthur muttered under his breath as he walked out of the tent. He looked at Dutch. "He ain’t gonna be in my tent long, is he?"

"Well… you wouldn’t mind sharin’ it, would ya?"

"DUTCH!"

"Oh, quit your whinin’, Arthur! The boy can’t sleep alone. We don’t know if he’ll try to rob us or slit our throats in our sleep."

"And you’re makin’ me watch him?"

"You’re the youngest of the gang, ain’t you? Or, well… you were." Arthur gave him a hard look. "Look on the bright side; it’s like you got yourself a little brother."

[thefrogman]

I hate that when I write posts like these I can either do them in a fun, creative way that grabs people's attention or write them with extreme information density, explaining every varible and citing every example—making sure that I preemptively avoid comments like this.

I like using metaphors and subtext. I don't think people always want things explained down to every technical detail. And I choose not to insult people's intelligence.

But when I do that and people miss the subtext or don't completely understand the metaphorical approach I used, I get comments like these.

No, the shallow depth of field is not the only variable and Mister Rogers is not the only example.

I thought that was fairly clear.

I do not have the time or energy to list every single factor and every possible show, movie, commercial, etc. that helped train people's brains. That post would be a lot more technical and a lot less fun.

But I really hate getting these comments. Because I feel like people are accusing me of not knowing what I'm talking about or that I'm lying or bullshitting.

I'm giving you a 101 explanation and inviting you to jump into the rabbit hole if you want to gain a deeper understanding.

Can I just ask that people approach this with curiosity instead of skepticism?

Instead of the snarky "that seems like a stretch", maybe ask a question.

Like, "What if someone never saw Mister Rogers and still sees the photos as miniature?"

And then myself or someone in the replies can give a more detailed explanation. It turns into a fun discussion. And I don't curl up into a ball of despair.

[askclairefpe]

★🎀Intro🎀★

This is a roleplay blog for Claire from Fundamental Paper Education/FPE.

She's silly and she deserved better :(

Headcanons 🎀

★ Claire focuses and studies hard when it comes to her classes.

★ She's mainly a straight A+ student.

★ Her favorite classes are science and music :3

★ Very sweet and kind, and she's also protective over her friends.

★ She's a Bisexual Demigirl (She/Her/They).

★ She has a crush on Engel :3

★ She likes strawberry creme flavored snacks ✨

★ Ticklish? Maybeeee.. Her sides are her worst spots-

★ She is ∆lice's younger sister, but she herself forgot about that :(

★ She's 16 on this blog.

★ Really dislikes the bully trio-

Rules 🎀

- No nsfw.

- Don't try to kill or attack Claire.

- Tickle asks are allowed, just don't make it weird-

- Don't ask for donations.

- No ZipClaire, please. But I respect the people who ship it.

- Be kind towards me and the people I roleplay with.

"Claire will speak like this"

[Mod will talk like this]

Claire's friends 🎀

@lana-and-her-sockpuppets @ask-lesbian-bubble @engels-ask-blog @abbie-appleboy

Bullies 🎀

@oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @3dward-th3-s1lly @ask-edward-fpe

Other students 🎀

@sk3ll-em0-k1tty @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley @silly-pan-robot

@ask-lizzy-fpe @ask-silly-rabbit

@sillylilchipster @chip-the-silly-fish

Alice 🎀

@alice-monstrous-princess

Teachers 🎀

@oreolovingmathteacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @miss-thavelll @ask-miss-thavel @silly-art-teacher @lesbian-history-teacher @mister-demis-ask-blog @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher

Principal 🎀

@principal-grace

Danger AU blogs 🎀

@danger-abbie @danger-engel @danger-zipster @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie

Kaaatieverse 🎀

@official-crazie @agethath3silly @ask-miller @askskary

Claire's twin!?/hj 🎀

@claire-the-silly

[That's everything! I hope you enjoy this blog :3]

[oliversoapeater-official]

Intro ★

"Well... This app seems interesting."

"Anyways, hey losers. My name's Oliver."

"Can't wait to make an absolute mess of this place :) Gonna cause a little chaos-"

Headcanons 🧼

★ Oliver is obviously a bully- so he'll respond rather rudely to some asks.

★ He has a weird obsession with soap, he has a large stash of it hidden in the school. Only he knows where it is.

★ He's transmasc, and he's also bisexual.

★ Surprisingly very soft at times, mainly towards his friends and ∆lice.

★ He can purr :3

★ Actually very ticklish (His underarms are his worst spot-)

★ Has trauma, but he doesn't want to talk about it.

★He also drinks liquid soap-

★ Will sneak into ∆lice's room just to see her <3

★Very protective of his friends.

★ He likes having his horns petted :3

★ He's just a silly guy :P

★ Will freak tf out if you take his soap away-

Rules 🧼

★ No nsfw. I know Oliver is 18 years old but nsfw still isn't allowed.

★ Magic anons and tickle asks are allowed, just don't be a weirdo-

★ Don't ship Oliver with any other FPE character or your oc. (I have nothing against oc x canon, tho- But Oliver is canonically dating ∆lice.)

★ Respect me and the people I interact with.

★ Triggering asks and Gaza asks will be deleted.

★ Don't try to attack or kill Oliver.

★ Don't push him into talking about his past-

"Oliver will talk like this"

[Mod will talk in red]

Oliver's friends 🧼

@zip-the-chaos-child @ask-zip-stuff @ask-edward-fpe @3dward-th3-s1lly

Other students 🧼

@engels-ask-blog @claire-the-silly @clairewithabow @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy @ask-lesbian-bubble

@that-emo-skell @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @silly-pan-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley

@ask-lizzy-fpe @ask-silly-rabbit

@askofficialfern

Teachers 🧼

@oreolovingmathteacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @miss-thavelll @mister-demis-ask-blog @lesbian-history-teacher @silly-art-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher

Principal 🧼

@principal-grace

∆lice 🧼

@alice-monstrous-princess

Other 🧼

@danger-abbie @danger-zipster @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie @official-crazie @viviansmagicshop @ask-miller @askskary @agethath3silly @thehomehorse @h0pe-anon @zeni-the-silly

[That's all! Byebye :3 my old account is @/oliverthesoapeater. Please don't interact with that one-]

[danger-engel]

⚠️ Introduction post⚠️

"Well, uhmm... Hello there. My name is Engel."

"I think Claire told me about this blog, I think."

"So, uh... Ask me anything, I guess."

⚠️Canon info + Headcanons⚠️

⚠️ He hates ∆lice the most.

⚠️ He often takes sedatives because of Claire's hobbies.

⚠️ He is afraid of injections.

⚠️ Danger Bloomie is always indignant that Engel gives in to emotions seeing a wounded body and calls him a “horrible medic”.

⚠️ He can draw.

⚠️ He often helps Danger Demi if he gets concussed.

⚠️Headcanons⚠️

⚠️ Engel is Pansexual.

⚠️ He worries a lot at times, and has slight anxiety.

⚠️ He sees Bubble as a little sister.

⚠️ He's dating Claire, and he often draws portraits of her.

⚠️ He doesn't like Oliver, Zip or Edward.

⚠️ Will do anything to protect his friends.

⚠️ He also hates Danger Bloomie-

⚠️ Abbie is his closest friend.

⚠️ He's 19 years old.

⚠️ Ticklish-

Rules

- No nsfw.

- Please don't ask for donations.

- You can send tickle-related asks, just don't be a weirdo or creep-

- Respect my headcanons.

- Don't spam-like or spam in the inbox.

- Don't try to hurt or kill Engel.

- Be kind towards me and my mutuals.

- Magic anons are allowed, but don't make it weird.

Other danger blogs

@danger-abbie @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie @danger-zipster

More FPE blogs that are also cool :3

@abbie-appleboy @engels-ask-blog @claire-the-silly @clairewithabow @ask-lesbian-bubble @lana-and-her-sockpuppets

@oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @ask-zip-stuff @3dward-th3-s1lly @ask-edward-fpe

@sk3ll-em0-k1tty @rabies-infested-riley @riley-crazy-kid @ruby-the-pansexual-robot

@ask-silly-rabbit @ask-lizzy-fpe

@oreolovingmathteacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @miss-thavelll @silly-art-teacher @mister-demis-ask-blog @lesbian-history-teacher @principal-grace

@alice-monstrous-princess

Kaaatieverse blogs

@ask-miller @official-crazie @askskary @agethath3silly @viviansmagicshop

[Mod is @zeni-the-silly ^^]

[lana-and-her-sockpuppets]

📝New intro📝

remade the intro cuz the old one is cringe-

Welcome to RP blog for my favorite sock puppet girl from Fundamental Paper Education :3

Some things on this blog are just headcanons, some are canon. Just a note.

📝Info/Headcanons📝

🧦 Lana is wearing her sock puppets 24/7 (canon)

🧦 She has a struggles with studying, like Abbie, but she manages to handle them positively without being too upset

🧦 She's kinda chaotic at times by nature, but she's actually just a cinnamon roll who LOVES affection

🧦 She's very creative one. She loves making various crafts, and her sock puppets were her best craft so this is why she almost never taking them off anymore

🧦 She's dating Abbie <3 ( @abbie-appleboy )

🧦 She always acts like her sock puppets are alive (just a silly headcanon)

🧦 Her sock puppets are precious to her, and if someone takes them away from her she might cry until she get them back

🧦 She's very friendly, playful and kind, but also extremely protective over the ones she's close with and can get VERY mad if someone hurt her friends (she will use her sledgehammer if someone hurt them-)

🧦 She's pansexual

🧦 She's ticklish :3 (her sides and tummy are her worst spot-)

📝Rules📝

No N$FW is allowed. Mod is a minor, and Lana too.

Don't harass me for my headcanons and what I ship.

Be kind and respectful towards me and other roleplayers please.

Don't force me into roleplaying with you.

Don't spam in the inbox and please be patient if I'm not answering your ask right away since I have other blogs to keep up with.

You can send tickle asks, just don't be weird about it-

Don't try to kill Lana.

🧦 🧦 🧦

About the mod IRL

I'm a bisexual(with a female leaning) and polyamorous girl

I'm a minor

I go mostly by she/her pronouns, but sometimes I'm pretty fine with using any pronouns

I'm into SFW tickling community

🧦 🧦 🧦

"Lana will talk like this."

[Mod will talk like this]

Other FPE(and non FPE) blogs that you should check out :3

@abbie-appleboy @engels-ask-blog @clairewithabow @claire-the-silly @ask-lesbian-bubble @ask-silly-rabbit @ask-lizzy-fpe @that-emo-skell @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @rabies-infested-riley @riley-crazy-kid @oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @ask-edward-fpe @3dward-th3-s1lly

@oreolovingmathteacher @miss-bloomies-science-class @miss-thavelll @mister-demis-ask-blog @silly-art-teacher @lesbian-history-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher @principal-grace

@danger-abbie @danger-zipster @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie @official-crazie @ask-miller @viviansmagicshop @askskary @alice-monstrous-princess

That's all for now. Might update later if necessary. For now, have a good day/night and have fun! ^^

(Mod is @just-cutie-avocado)

The character doesn't belongs to me. The character rightfully belongs to Kaaatie on YouTube/A3DGhost on Twitter(X)