#princess tutu needs more eyes on her

[dear-crybunny]

Once upon a time...

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Little Ballerina | Never Grow Up

second part of this small mini series.

summary: remi has her first ballet show.

pairings: leah williamson x reader

“Mummy! Mummy! Watch me twirl around in my tutu,” Remi shouts excitedly the moment that your wife walks through the door from training, her little face is lit up in anticipation as she’s eager to capture Leah’s attention ahead of her ballet show later this afternoon.

Leah gasps in awe as she immediately turns her attention in the direction of your four-year-old with an amused smile, “Wow, baby Gooner. I’m impressed!” She pauses, “You look just like a little princess.” She retorts playfully, poking her nose.

“Mummy, you can’t call me that anymore. I’m not a baby!” Remi insists, pouting at Leah while she stands there with her hands on her hips.

“Oh? But you’ll always be my baby, won’t you?” Leah teases your daughter, scooping her up into her arms and tickling her sides.

“Stop it, Mummy!” Remi scowls at your wife, doing her best to impersonate her.

You chuckle as you finish wiping Esme’s face with a baby wipe, “You’ve got some serious competition with that frown, Le.” You joke, something your wife finds less amusing to hear.

Your wife rolls her eyes with a groan, “Don’t remind me, not that I’m grateful she’s my mini me, but did she have to pick up on these traits, too? It’s something that my teammates like to remind me about, every single time they see us!” Leah exclaims, placing Remi down on the floor before she continues to twirl in her tutu much to your amusement.

“They’re just stating the truth there,” You remark, smirking at your wife.

Leah gasps and clutches her hand over her heart in a joking manner, “What? You’re ganging up on me as well now? Outrageous!” She exclaims.

“Mumma knows best, Mummy!” Remi chimes in, giggling as she spins around.

“You said it, baby girl!” You wink at her before you dispose of the wipe in the bin, “Do you mind helping Es out of her highchair? I need to finish getting our little ballerina ready over here,” You joke, in regards to the newfound love your daughter has for ballet, much to your wife’s own disappointment.

“At least I still have hope with Essie still,” Leah retorts playfully, unclipping Esme out of her highchair, “I can still hope for one footballer in the family,” She adds, pouting playfully as she lifts your youngest out of her high chair, “Right Essie Bear?”

“Ball, Mummy!” Esme cheers and claps her hands excitedly, wadling towards the stuffed football stranded on the floor, “Kick ball, Mummy!”

“Yeah!” Leah cheers, throwing Esme up in the air in celebration, “See? I still have hope!”

“Le, careful or she’ll be–” You start to warn, but none too soon is your wife spat up on all over her shirt by Esme and Leah can’t help but gag, not being a fan of sick at all, “Well, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited like this before,” You speak in a hushed voice, taking your place back in your seat as you left your little girl backstage ahead of the show, while you can already spot your little girl poking her head and waving when she caught sight of you and your wife, “And I have to say it’s nice to be sitting somewhere that’s not a football stadium for a change as well.”

Leah chuckles from where she sits beside you with Esme on her lap who’s reaching out towards you as soon as she sets her eyes on you, “Oh I’ll try to not too much offence to that, love,” She teases, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “You want Mumma?” She questions your little girl.

“You know I love watching you play in your matches, but I just hate the cold that bit more,” You tell her, scooping Esme up from your wife’s lap and settling her on your own.

“I don’t think you’ve ever sounded more British than you do right now, love,” Leah jokes, an amused expression on her face, doing her best to stay enthusiastic despite her mixed feelings of ballet being overshadowed by football.

“I’m not late am I?” Amanda questions in a whisper, slipping into the empty seat beside your wife, “Traffic was a nightmare getting here.”

“No, no, don’t worry, you’re just in time” You reassure her, flashing a warm smile, “They haven’t come out onto the stage yet.”

The older woman lets out a sigh of relief as she settles in her seat, “I thought I would have missed it,” She admits, “Is she excited? When she came to mine the other day with Le, that’s all she could talk about, wasn’t it?” She looks towards Leah.

“Yeah it was,” Leah smiles as she nods in agreement with Amanda.

“Nana! Nana!” Esme babbles, her eyes widening in excitement at the sight of Amanda.

“Hi Essie,” Amanda coos at your youngest daughter, “Are you excited for your big sisters’ dance show, huh?” She asks, softly.

“Watch ‘Mi!” Esme continues to babble and clap her hands in excitement.

Look, there she is!” Leah whispers, excitedly pointing as her face lights up as she spots Remi, amongst the group of girls that walk out onto the stage.

“I see her,” You agree, looking at your daughter while her tutu is slightly askew and her hair is gathered in a messy bun despite how you styled it previously before leaving her backstage, but nonetheless her eyes are wide with excitement, “You can’t say that she doesn’t get her confidence from you, Le,” You note, flashing your wife a proud smile as you begin to watch your daughter dance on the stage.

“Mi! Mi!” Esme babbles, clapping her hands together in delight as she mirrors the applause from the audience, “Mi!” She babbles, pointing at her sister.

Leah can’t help but laugh fondly, “Well at least we know she has one dedicated fan,” She retorts in amusement, her eyes never leaving Remi, “She looks so small out there.”

You watch with complete pride in your heart as Remi dances away on stage, sneaking glances towards you and Leah every chance she could.

“She does, but she’s doing so well,” You whisper in a hushed voice, continuing to watch the small performance with a beaming smile on your face, “I’m so proud of her.”

“Me too, love,” Leah’s heart swells with pride, a soft smile on her face and you swear there’s even a faint tear that quickly wipes away – Your wife, the big softy that she is despite the tough stern footballer that she makes out to be on the pitch most of the time, “I’m so so proud of our baby Gooner.”

The performance soon finishes and you don’t hesitate to give her a blow her a kiss while Leah gives her a big thumbs up and your daughter beams a wide smile.

“Oh she was amazing out there,” Amanda comments in awe of her eldest granddaughter, waiting for the show to finish to give Remi a proud smile and wave , “She didn’t look nervous at all.”

“She’s got her Mummy’s confidence that’s why,” Leah states, proudly puffing her chest out as she stands up to join in with the applause with the rest of the audience.

You stand up with Esme balanced on your hip and begin to clap in sync with everyone else, “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone you cried at all, Le,” You joke with your wife, nudging her in the ribs playfully with your free arm.

“Don’t you dare, I wouldn’t ever live it down,” Your wife pouts as they begin to disembark the stage, your own little ballerina running directly towards you, thankfully Leah senses it’s a good idea to take Esme beforehand.

“Mumma! Mummy!” Remi’s voice is full of excitement as she bounds towards you all, “Nana! Did you see me? Did you see me do the twirl?” She exclaims, practically vibrating with joy.

“We saw, baby girl,” You say, catching her in your arms and enveloping her in a big hug, “You absolutely smashed it out there!”

Leah is next to scoop her up, lifting her high in the air, “You were so good out there, baby Gooner!” She beams a wide smile, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Nana! Nana!” Remi’s attention turns towards Leah’s mum as she animatedly chats away to her, “Did you see me dance? I did the twirl I showed you!”

“I did! You were so good out there, sweetheart,” Amanda compliments her eldest granddaughter as she envelopes her in a hug of her own, “You know what I think this calls for now?” She thinks aloud.

“What?” Remi questions, tilting her head to the side.

“Ice cream!” Amanda replies enthusiastically.

“Ice cream!” Remi repeats, excitedly as if it made her whole entire day hearing them words, “I love Ice cream, so much!”

Your mother in law smiles and nods, “It’s my treat for our best little ballerina.” She says, poking Remi on the nose gently.

“Hear that, Mummy? I’m the best little ballerina!” Remi shouts in delight, excited at the prospect of a new nickname.

“I did hear that,” Leah nods in agreement with your eldest daughter as she scoops her up to sit her on top of her shoulders, “Nana’s right, you are the best little ballerina that we know.”

As you all begin to make your way out of the room, Remi continues to chatter excitedly to Amanda all about her performance as her little feet still dance while you’re walking.

“Something tells me this isn’t a one time thing, is it?” Leah whispers, leaning in to you as she wraps her arm around your waist.

You chuckle and shake your head, “I don’t think so, Le. I think she might have just found her new passion.” You admit to your wife, who’s tried to remain hopeful that Remi might still choose football.

“Well, if this is what makes her happy then I guess I can learn to love ballet,” Leah says, her eyes softening, “Just as long as she doesn’t give up on being a Gooner all together.”

“Don’t worry Le, she’s still your baby Gooner,” You reassure your wife, patting her chest in amusement, “But now she just has a new nickname as well.” You add.

Leah breathes a sigh of relief in a joking manner, “Which is?” She wonders, curiously.

“Our little ballerina,” You remark, a fond smile on your face as you watch your daughter in front of you giggle and dance away.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[kykyonthemoon]

hiiiiii i love the stories you make. Can you please make rafayel x ballerina reader where reader gets taken care of by rafayel after accidently twisting her ankle during practice?? tyyy 💗💗💗💗💗

Dear Anon-san,

Thank you so much for your request. I also apologize that it took a while to finally get to you. Hope you enjoy this piece, and I'm looking forward to your continued support <3

His Little Ballerina

── .✦ Rafayel x Female Reader|MC

── .✦ Tags: soft, sweet, physical hurt/comfort, fluff, healing, reader is a ballerina

── .✦ Word count: over 1k

── .✦ Ky Ky's note: This is also my first fic after being accepted into oracleofstars network. Yay!!!

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

When he came to pick you up at the hospital, Rafayel's face was already so pale.

Long story short, he had just received a text from you stating that you were at a hospital near your place and needed a ride home. You had accidently fallen while executing a simple pirouette, causing your ankle to twist. Rafayel crossed his arms as he watched you sit there with a swollen ankle, his countenance confusing..

"You can yell at me after you drop me off, okay?" You said. But he did not seem any content. You knew he was genuinely concerned about you, especially after he told you over and over that you were unable to practice ballet right away since you were still a bit unwell.

He had met you for the first time after your play. While everyone was praising your charm, Rafayel was the only one who pointed out the problem with your ankle.

For a Lemurian, witnessing your struggle while dancing reminded him of the agony a merman must go through when he abandons his tail to learn to walk on land. 

Therefore, you totally understood his response when he saw you were constantly getting injured on the practice floor. You did not defy Rafayel, but you felt awful for causing him so much tension.

“You only listen to me when you're in trouble, right?”

Even though he grumbled, Rafayel helped you up, holding your bag and pointe shoes on one shoulder. When he saw your few struggling steps, he winced. Then, he leant down and picked you up. 

"Eh? Rafael?! Put me down.”

Your face turned red. However, Rafayel continued to carry you in his arms and walk away. He said:

"You heard what the doctor said; from now on, you must rest and let me care for you. That means I shall become your legs.”

“But… Is it necessary to carry me like this? You can just give me a piggyback ride…”

Rafayel shook his head: “I won't do so. Carrying you like that would make me seem no less like a turtle!”

You sighed and gave up. You allowed Rafayel to take you to the hospital gate in front of a large crowd. You felt so embarrassed while he kept that serious expression on his face.

You expected him to stop carrying you after you left the hospital, but Rafayel walked instead of calling a taxi. You rolled your eyes and asked:

“Are you going to carry me all the way home?”

Rafayel took a short peek at you before returning his attention to the road ahead. “Your place is nearby. We can walk home.”

You shifted your body somewhat uncomfortably. Rafayel's arms closed around you even more. You nestled myself into his neck and whispered: "People are looking..."

At that moment, a child who had just left the candy store noticed you and Rafayel. She asked:

“Miss! Are you a princess?”

Rafayel's footsteps slowed down a bit so the child could keep up. That was when you discovered you were still wearing your tutu with a flared skirt. People from the studio took you to the hospital; however, because they were busy and knew Rafayel was on his way, they departed right away. 

"So, you must really be a princess to be carried like that, right?" The small girl inquired innocently again. 

Rafayel came to a complete halt. He grinned at her and said:

"Correct, kiddo. She is a princess.”

You used a hand to hit him on the shoulder and said to the child:

"No, no. It's not true. I'm not a princess..."

But it seemed that the child ignored those words. She noticed your twisted ankle and asked:

“Is Her Highness injured?” 

"Yup." Rafayel responded on your behalf. “She just fought a terrible monster, and it injured her ankle.”

The child's eyes were glowing, as if she really believed Rafayel's narrative. She spoke again:

"What a pity! So you came to rescue the princess? Are you her prince?”

Your cheeks felt heated. Perhaps it was because the sun beamed in this way. You were ready to urge Rafayel to stop teasing the child, but perhaps he, too, was caught up in this fabricated setting. 

“A prince? I am not a prince.”

“So who are you?”

Rafayel smirked, he said while looking at you, as if those words were just for your:

“I am the God of the Sea. I am her God of the Sea."

“Whoaaaaaa!” The child cheered, and you held your breath as you caught Rafayel smile at you. The sunshine appeared to cast an aura over him. You could only adore him silently, fearing that a single breath might cause him to vanish. 

At that moment, the girl's mother summoned her back. She placed a little bag of sweets on your lap, atop your flowery skirt, and declared:

"For you, Your Highness. Perhaps you need them more than I do. I pray Your Highness gets better soon!"

After saying that, she ran away. You just had time to say thank you, almost like a shout behind her.

Rafayel grinned all the way home, and you felt happy with simply a bag of sugary treats. You poked his cheek.

"See how delighted you are. She handed me candies; you won't be getting any of them!"

“So unfair!” Rafayel yelled as he kept strolling down the pavement while holding you in his arms. “I'm having a hard time carrying you home. How come you're so blind to see it?”

“Then why did you walk home instead of taking a taxi?” You softly pinched his face and noted the way he pouted.

“I'm exhausted, and dehydrated. Yet you're far from being gentle with me after all!”

You giggled and replied, “You just told that kid I am a princess. So you must serve me in the next few days, right?”

Rafayel did not respond. You figured he was reluctant to confess you had him in the palm of your hand, even if this was not something new for either of you.

“If you stay silent, it means you agree.” You said cheerfully. “Come on, my God of the Sea! I want to go home and have seafood for dinner!” 

Rafayel exhaled. “I give you an inch, you will take the whole yard.” However, he still smiled pleasantly. The afternoon sun imprinted both of you on the road, while your shadow just kissed his, on the cheek.

Mood board from my photo in game & Pinterest.

[seresinhangmanjake]

From Two to Four

Single Dad!Jake Seresin x Single Mom!reader

Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter's birthday from being ruined.

notes: this is going to be a mini series from @rosiahills22 request :)

warnings: none.

Words: 841

----

PART 1:

Your arm is being yanked on but that isn't unusual. With the way your son is, you're surprised you've not had a trip to the hospital to have your shoulder shoved back into its socket. He's strong for his age, and with the handful he is already, you just know you're in for more surprises as he ages; ones you can only hope you'll know how to tackle on your own.

Jamie pulls you through small crowd after small crowd in his effort to make it to the treats. Only when you're in line does he drop your hand so he can press his nose against the glass shelf displaying every variety of candy he could possibly want. A sugar-high child was not in your plans for the day, but you refuse to dull his excitement.

"Mommy, can we get rainbow gummies?"

His voice blends with a sudden cry, and you turn your head to find a small girl leaning against one of the theater's decorative pillars. Her blue tutu is scrunched in her little hands, and the bedazzled tiara on her head is beginning to slip sideways. Softly brushing away her tears is a man crouched in front of her. He tries to right her crown as her finger shoots directly toward the large movie poster behind the man's head.

"Daddy!"

"I know, baby, I know. But it’s sold out," he sighs. "We'll come back tomorrow, OK? I'm sorry."

He stands straight and takes her hand, a look of utter heartbreak marring his handsome features when he begins to lead her past you toward the door. 

"Excuse me,” comes out of your mouth without a thought. 

When he pauses, the little girl nearly bumps into the back of his calf. His eyes meet yours, and the tenseness tightening his brow and the line of his lips soothes. 

“I don’t mean to bother you, but I have two extra tickets to the same movie if you want them."

A dark blond brow raises. “You’re going to see The Dragon Princess of Amethyst Mountain 2?”

“Well, the first one had such a gripping storyline." You chuckle at the amused expression on his face. “My son is with me,” you say and look behind you at the boy all but licking the glass case in anticipation. “Jaime, come here, sweetheart.”

Candy magically forgotten, Jamie bounds over to you with the widest of grins, stopping right beside you to stare up at the man.

“Hi!” he says loudly and clearly, with a certain confident authority only a four-year-old could possess. “I’m Jameson “Jamie”.

The man laughs. “Hi Jameson “Jamie”, I’m Jake, and this is Olive.”

Jamie’s eyes immediately go to the girl. His head tilts. “Like the snack?”

“Jamie, honey, don’t say–”

“Yea,” the girl pipes up, her tiny fist rubbing at the dried tears below her eye. 

Your boy's eyes light up, and you know what he's about to say before it exits his mouth. “I love olives!”

"Really?"

"Yep yep!"

Jake chuckles, releases his daughter's hand, and moves to stand beside you so he may join you in watching your children form an instant bond. 

"Just so you know," he says, leaning closer, "I didn't name my child after a food, intentionally."

You don't care what and why he named his child as you watch Jamie take an immediate liking to her. He needs a friend, and you've never seen him invested quite so quickly. 

"Hey, I don't judge," you reply, making the man laugh again. You're starting to like it. It's deep and husky and has an intoxicating element that wants to lure you into your own fit of giggles. 

"I'm Jake," he formally introduces, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so as you offer your name in return. "So how did you end up with extra tickets to the best movie in town?"

"I've got a sister who's a flake and a brother-in-law with a missing backbone," you say before clicking your tongue. "Which is a shame, honestly, because I think he really wanted to see it."

"Well, I hate to say I'm thankful for that, but you've just saved my daughter's birthday, so…"

"Daddy," Olive calls, her entire mood having taken a complete shift, "can we get rainbow gummies?"

"Sure, baby."

Jamie and Olive jump up and down, their hands tightly clasped together. Then your son hurriedly leads the girl back over to the candy case to show her everything she's about to enjoy.

"How old?" you ask.

"Four."

"So is Jamie."

As if on cue, Jamie looks back at you. "Mommy, and cookie dough bites?"

"Your boy's got a good appetite," Jake says, crossing his arms and nodding his head Jamie's way. 

"Oh, just you wait. He'll want–"

"And popcorn, Mommy?"

You snort. "See?"

Jake's eyes travel over your face, pulling forth a light blush that you can already feel heating your cheeks. His wide open lips display pearly whites, and there is a glint in his gaze when he says, "Well we better get them their snacks then."

---

A/N: More to come for this little series! I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @kmc1989 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792

[mellowsadistic]

The Magician's Game - Chapter 4

Susie’s New Life

“Come here, little one!” Susie’s mother called. “Come to Mummy!”

Susie immediately got up and abandoned the stuffed animal tea party she’d been forced to play with (“Would you wike some tea, Mister Snuggles?”), hurrying over to her mother as fast she could. Once she reached Mrs Taylor, she felt a sudden weakness in her knees. Against her will, her body did a submissive little curtsey. She lifted up the hem of her silly little frock and flashed her wet, drooping diaper. “Here Mummy,” she said. Normally she was allowed to wear cotton underpants and use the little plastic training potty in the living room, always under supervision, but occasionally her mother changed her into nappies and told her she couldn’t control her bladder. Susie had spent that whole morning dribbling wee-wee into her pants like a dumb baby. Her mother had told her she couldn’t hold her pee, so she couldn’t.

“Good girl,” Mrs Taylor cooed, smirking. Even after months of having her independent daughter back under her thumb, she was still delighted by the sight of the once mature, rebellious young woman reduced to an obedient little lady. She looked especially adorable in her soggy nappy, blushing crimson, her eyes fixed on her sweet little Mary Janes. “Come with Mommy, sweetie. We’re going to your nursery. We need to get you changed into your special dance clothes, okay princess?”

“Yes, Mummy,” Susie said again, with another curtsey. Then she waddled hurriedly after her mother, wrinkling her nose at the horrible, yucky wet feeling of her diaper squishing between her legs.

Once they reached her bedroom, her nursery, Susie couldn’t stop herself scrunching up her face in disgust at the baby-pink wallpaper, the large crib, the changing table, and the childish toys that littered the carpet. She didn’t want to pull a face, but Mummy had told her that was how she was supposed to react to things she didn’t like. No more superior sneers. No more cold stares. Just wrinkling her nose and pulling what Mummy called her ‘yucky face’.

Mrs Taylor turned around to her daughter and lifted her frock up and over her head, leaving her bare-chested. Susie tried to cover her breasts, but her mother smacked her hands away. “No baby. There’s no need to cover your boobies. You haven’t got anything Mummy hasn’t seen before.” Susie’s lower lip trembled as her hands dropped immediately to her side. Her mother slipped her shoes off her feet, leaving her in nothing but her squishy wet nappy and her frilly ankle socks. “What a soggy girl!” Mrs Taylor cooed, probing the discoloured front of Susie’s diaper with her fingers. “You’re Mummy’s widdle pee-pee pants, aren’t you precious? Yes you are! Yes you are! But I don’t think you need a change just yet. That can wait until later. Let’s finish getting you dressed.”

Susie could only stand there like a doll as her mother pulled a ridiculous tutu up her legs and over her nappy. The puffy frills stuck out from her waist, failing spectacularly to conceal her bulging potty pants. Next, a pair of ballet shoes over her socks, and finally a pair of glittery pink fairy wings that slipped into place over her shoulders.

“There we go!” Mrs Taylor announced happily. “Fully dressed! Come and take a look at yourself, cutie.” She led her daughter over to the floor-length mirror and stood her in front of it.

Susie almost started crying when she saw how absurd she looked. An attractive women in her early twenties (as her bare breasts made clear) dressed up like a little girl pretending to be a fairy princess, her wet diaper peeking out beneath the hem of her tutu, letting everyone know she wasn’t even mature enough for toilets. She gritted her teeth and fought to keep her face set. She didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her cry like a baby, but she still couldn’t stop herself from pulling her yucky face.

“Awww, what’s that look for, sweetie?” Mrs Taylor cooed. “Who’s Mummy’s pretty baby? Who’s my pretty little girl?”

“Me Mummy!” Susie blurted. The words spilled from her lips beyond her control. “Me a pwetty giwl!”

Her mother laughed. “That’s right, sweetie! Now let’s go and show you off to Mummy’s friends, and you can do your little dance just like we practiced.”

“Yes Mummy,” Susie said. She tried desperately to keep her feet rooted to the floor, but it was useless. She was nothing but a passenger in her own body when her mother gave her an order. She followed her mother out of her nursery and down the stairs towards the living room. The sounds of conversation reached her ears. Her mother’s twisted friends had been delighted to see Susie ‘put back in her place’.

A chorus of laughter rang out once Susie entered the room, and her lower lip trembled again. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, wishing it would swallow her up and end this nightmare.

“Say hello to your Aunties, princess,” her mother ordered. “Just like Mummy told you to do.”

A big dumb smile spread over Susie’s face at once. She looked up and waved enthusiastically at the five women sitting on the sofas and chairs. “Hewwo Aunties!”

“Awww!” they all cooed in unison.

“Hi baby!”

“Aren’t you just the cutest!”

“That outfit is much more appropriate than all those silly things you used to wear!”

“I could just gobble you up!”

“I’m so glad you’re back where you belong, little one!”

“Little Susie-wusie wanted to show you all the dance she’s been practising,” Mrs Taylor announced. “It’s a bit different from the dancing she used to do when she was out partying at university, back when she thought she was a big girl, but she’s still very proud of it. Go on, sweetie, sing your little song for us!”

Susie tried once more, desperately, to control her body. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t disobey her mother. “I’m a little baby,” she sang, to the tune of I’m A Little Teapot. “Wet and dumb!” She struggled to hold back her tears. “Here is my nappy…” She patted it. “And here is my bum!” She spun around, stuck out her padded bottom, and wiggled it at her mother’s cackling friends. “When… I get… all stinky…” she sang between grunts, sinking down into a squat and straining to fill her diaper just like Mummy had ordered her to do. She felt sick and disgusted at what her traitorous body was doing. The seat of her nappy bulged and sagged. “Here me shout!” she sobbed, getting up and turned back around to face her audience with tears running down her cheeks, her loaded diaper now sagging halfway down to her knees. “Mummy!” she cried. “I did a poo-poo in my pants!”

Her mother’s friends shrieked with laughter and applauded, while Mrs Taylor smiled, darkly satisfied, and pulled her tearful daughter into a hug. “There, there, stinky-bum,” she cooed. “It’s okay. Mummy’s very proud of you for doing your cute little song and dance. It’s only to be expected that you pooped your pants. You might have thought you were a mature, independent woman who was clever enough to go off to university, but now you know you’re just a big, silly baby who can’t even stop herself making yucky messes in her nappy.”

“But you made me!” Susie whined. All her complaints came out in an annoying, whiny voice now, ever since her mother told her that was how she was to complain about things. “I can control myself!”

“Awww, is my widdle Susie-wusie being a fussy-pants?” Mrs Taylor crooned. “I think she is!” Then she leaned close to her daughter’s ear and whispered an order. “Throw a tantrum, Susie. Right now.”

Immediately, Susie lost control of her emotions. “I’m not a BABY!” she screeched, stamping her feet and pumping her fists madly the moment her mother had pulled away. “I wanna go back to college! I wanna go to parties and have sex with boys! I wanna be a grown-up again!” She stomped about stupidly, looking utterly ridiculous in her tutu and fairy wings, her bare breasts and her stinky diaper both jiggling wildly as she bounced up and down like an overgrown toddler. “I don’t wanna be a stupid baby! I’m a big girl! I’m a BIG GIRL!”

Susie tried to calm herself down. She knew this was exactly what her mother wanted – to make her to look like an absurd, oversized two-year-old – but just as it had been for months now, even since the Magician had put her in this state, she was completely unable to disobey her Mummy. Even her little ‘rebellions’ were controlled, only a means to humiliate her further by forcing her to act like the anger she felt at her situation was merely typical toddler fussiness. So Susie could do nothing as her body dropped to the floor and started kicking its legs and pounding the carpet, bawling its eyes out and shrieking that it was a big girl.

“Uh-oh!” her mother sang, glancing knowingly at her friends. “I think little Susie just earned herself some smacky bum-bum time!”

They all laughed, even while Susie continued to scream and shout.

“That naughty girl definitely needs a red bottom!” said one.

“Babies are often like this,” said another. “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that Susie is too. I’m sure a spanking will sort her out!”

Mrs Taylor smirked as she dragged Susie to her feet, sat down in a chair, and pulled her flailing adult daughter over her knees. “Bad baby!” she scolded, bringing her hand down on Susie’s bottom. “Very naughty girl, Susie-poo! This is exactly why Mummy can’t let you grow up! Imagine, still throwing tantrums at your age!”

Susie cried and thrashed as her mother spanked her, alternating between smacking what little of her bottom wasn’t covered by her nappy, and bringing her palm down forcefully on the seat of her baby-pants to make the mess inside squish horribly against her bum.

This was her life now, Susie knew. Toddler activities and tantrums and spankings. No free will. Just a doll for her controlling mother’s amusement. All Susie could do was hope that one day her mother would let her grow up again, or the Magician would take pity on her and undo what he’d done. But Susie had a feeling that wouldn’t be for a very long time.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Not Dead Yet | Part 02

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader

-> Synopsis: After trying to avoid Jeonghan (and the other ghosts) Y/N encounters him on the stairwell and is unable to ignore him anymore.

-> Warnings: Paranormal au. Hints at a possible evil spirit lurking about. Sick child in hospital but doesn't mention the illness, hints at her having been in hospital for a while. Y/N almost cusses a couple times. Hints at Y/N and Jihoon fake dating. This is a work of fiction. In no way does it reflect the guys.

-> Word Count: 2,616

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Not Dead Yet Masterlist | SEVENTEEN M.List

As Y/N walks along the footpath leading to the hospital, she digs through her bag, looking for something she promised one of the kids she visits. When she can't find it, she starts to cuss but stops herself when an elderly lady glares at her as she passes by. She bows in apology before continuing her search. 

Just a moment later, Y/N feels a sudden chill run down her spine and turns back to see the woman has completely vanished and is nowhere to be found. 

Frustrated, she scans the area, mentally scolding herself for revealing her ability to see ghosts to the old woman. “You would think I would know the difference between the living and dead by now,” she mutters under her breath, ensuring that only her brother on the other end of the call can hear her. 

“You chose to volunteer at the hospital,” Seungcheol, chimes in. “You’re surrounded by both the living and the dead there.” 

“I’m surrounded by the living and the dead everywhere I go,” she replies, rolling her eyes at his comment. But then, she suddenly exclaims, “Aha!” as she finally finds what she was looking for. It’s a small ballerina doll that used to be hers. She believes it deserves a new home with the little girl she’s befriended through her volunteer work. The little girl loves ballet more than she ever did. “I need to go. Tell Eomma I’ll be there tonight, but if she tries to set me up with one of her friend’s sons again, I’m going to leave and-,” she pauses, an idea coming to her. “Actually, I should bring Jihoon. That might keep her off my back for a while.”  

“You brought Jihoon a few months ago,” he reminds her. “Are you going to tell eomma that you’re fake back together?”  

“Shi-Yah!” she exclaims, stopping herself from cussing again as the elderly woman from a minute ago suddenly reappears in front of her. “I’ll find someone else to bring,” she quickly says, ending the call before he can respond. She frowns at the lady, taking out her earbuds and placing them back in her bag. The elderly woman says nothing as Y/N moves past her to go inside the hospital. Making her way up to the children’s ward, she keeps her head bowed so she doesn’t make eye contact with any more spirits. 

“Jeon Nari, I have a surprise for you,” Y/N calls out as she enters the room where the six-year-old girl is sitting on the hospital bed, colouring in her princess colouring book. She notices that the young girl’s father is with her and greets him politely with a slight bow of her head.  

Jeon Wonwoo, Nari's father, looks up from his phone and stands to return her greeting. “It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says, his voice reflecting the worry and exhaustion of a parent who has spent long hours in the hospital with his sick child. “Nari’s been talking about you non-stop since your last visit,” he adds. “She was so excited to learn that you used to do ballet.”  

Y/N smiles, her heart warming at the thought of Nari's excitement. It confirmed that she’s making the right choice in passing her once beloved doll down to the sweet little girl. “Well, speaking of ballet,” she says, pulling the ballerina doll with a pink tutu from behind her back and holding it out towards her. “I thought you might like this.” 

Nari’s eyes widen in excitement, her colouring book momentarily forgotten as Y/N passes the doll to her. “Wow! She’s so pretty!” Nari exclaims as a large smile makes its way onto her face. 

“Will you promise to take good care of her for me?” Y/N asks, her smile mirroring Nari's as she sits down across from her, her heart swelling with affection for the little girl. However, her smile dims as an unsettling chill fills the room. She senses a presence lingering in the doorway, and for a brief moment, it feels as if time has frozen. 

The atmosphere shifts, the warmth of the moment dissipating as Y/N's gaze drifts toward the entrance. A figure stands there, half-hidden in the shadow. The air grows thick with an unspoken tension, and Y/N's heart races as she tries to decipher the emotions swirling around her. 

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the silence, bringing her back to reality. He gazes at her with worry. “Are you okay?”  

She manages a smile, though it doesn’t fully reach her eyes, and nods. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay for long today,” she says, causing Nari to pout. Unbeknownst to Y/N, her visits have become one of Nari’s favourite parts about being in the hospital. “Since it's my day off from work tomorrow, I’ll be here much earlier than usual. You’ll be the first person I’ll come and see.”  

"You promise?" Nari asks, her expression a mix of hope and excitement as she holds up her tiny pinkie finger. 

"I promise," Y/N replies with a smile, linking her pinkie with Nari's and pressing their thumbs together, sealing their promise. The gesture brings a comforting warmth back into the room, yet an unsettling feeling still lingers in the air. Looking towards the doorway, she sees that the figure is no longer there. Trying to shake off the feeling, she turns her attention back on Nari. “I should get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” 

After saying her goodbyes, she exits the room, the unsettling feeling following her as she walks down the corridor and exits the children's ward. The air around her starts to feel almost suffocating so she chooses to take the stairs instead of the confined unescapable space of the elevator. As she descends the stairwell, the unease turns into feeling of being followed, the presence heavy, dark and ominous. Half expecting to find the figure from the doorway, she looks behind her only to find no one there, living or dead. With her heart pounding against her chest and her footsteps echoing in her ears, she quickens her pace and reaches the next landing. There she stops for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself, her eyes never leave the stairs she just descended, wary of any spirit that might choose to show itself. 

After a brief moment, she braves herself and turns to continue her walk down the stairs, but just as she does, a sudden fright nearly sends her tumbling backward. A scream escapes her lips as another presence makes itself known, breaking the suffocating ominous feeling in an instant.  

"I knew you could see me!" he exclaims, his voice echoing off the walls. His eyes gleam with a wild intensity, a mixture of mischief and something deeper. "You can't pretend anymore." 

“What is with you ghosts sneaking up on me today,” she groans with a frown on her face.  

“I’m not a ghost,” the man insists. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you are a ghost,” she informs him, her voice tinged with exasperation. “That is why I can see you while no one else can.”  

“But I’m not dead,” he counters, frustration clear in his voice. 

“Yes, you are,” she replies, her gaze flicking nervously to the door off to the side, hoping no one decides to walk into the stairwell at that moment. 

“I’m not!” he argues, reaching for her wrist, only for his hand to pass right through her. He tries again, with the same result.  

Each time he does it, it sends a chill through Y/N’s body. “Would you stop?” she scolds him moving her wrist away. 

“I’m trying to show you that I’m not dead,” he growls as the fluorescent lights above them begin to flicker, his frustration and anger boiling over. He’d spent the week trying to get her attention, unable to communicate with anyone else. “Just... come with me.” His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability breaking through as he almost sounds like he’s pleading. “You have to believe me.” 

With that he turns on his heal, walking through the door. Y/N hesitates for a moment but there is something within that compels her to follow him. Her curiosity piqued; she walks closer to the door. Pushing the door open, she steps into a brightly lit corridor with an intensive care unit sign hanging from the ceiling. 

Y/N's heart races once again as she takes in the scene, her breath hitching in her throat. The ghosts are everywhere, some with solid forms, others with translucent forms flickering in and out of focus, some hover near the doors of the patients rooms, their expressions a haunting blend of hope and despair and others drift aimlessly, looking at nothing in particular.  

The distant beeping of machines and the soft murmur of voices fills her ears as she searches for the man that led her this way. She finally spots him standing before the automatic glass doors of the unit. 

Reaching into her bag, she pulls out her earbuds, sticking them into her ears and keeps her head down, avoiding eye contact with the other ghosts as she makes her way over to him. "I can't go inside," she tells him. 

"I'm right there," he says pointing to one of the cubicles at the back of the room. She can just make out the end of the bed, but she can't confirm if it’s really him. 

“If you’re not dead, how can I see you?” she asks, more to herself than him.  

"How should I know?" he replies anyway. "You see the others, right?"  

"But they’re already dead," she answers.  

"How can you be so certain?" he asks out of curiosity.  

"You think there’s someone in there in a coma from the Joseon Dynasty era?" she says, motioning towards the woman at the end of the hall, her face etched with worry. "I bet she’s here because she’s watching over someone in there. You’d be surprised how many ancestors show up to welcome their family member into the afterlife. It makes it less scary to cross over into that dimension." She pauses, her gaze drifting back to the woman, who stands with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It’s like a welcoming committee," she continues. "They reassure them that they’re not alone and guide them over. It’s a beautiful thing, really.” 

His gaze turns to the woman, "So, you think that’s what’s happening here? That she’s just waiting for someone to join her so she can welcome them home?"

"It’s that, or she just doesn’t want her ancestor to be alone," she replies, her heart racing with the thrill of her own conviction. "It’s not just about the end of life. She could just be here watching over her entire bloodline, making sure they’re safe and healthy. It’s probably why she looks so worried.” 

“I guess you’ve been doing this a long time,” he says, turning his gaze towards her. 

“A very long time,” she sighs looking back inside the intensive care unit. “But this has never happened before. I’ve never seen or communicated with someone who’s in limbo.” 

Just as he opens his mouth to speak, someone calls out Y/N’s name. Her eyes widen as she turns, pulling her earbuds out. A blush creeps onto her cheeks as she greets the handsome man in a white coat. “Dr. Hong,” she says, bowing her head. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today” he smiles, causing Y/N’s heart to flutter and for a moment the situation she’s found herself in is a distant memory.  

“I—uh, I just dropped something off to Nari,” she stammers, feeling a little bashful. Joshua Hong, a doctor who transferred from America, seems to have that effect on anyone he comes across. There’s reason his nickname is the gentleman. He’s kind, polite and respectful to everyone, he doesn’t anger easily even in intense situations, and speaks with a soft, calming voice. He’s also incredibly handsome.  

She quickly snaps out of her little trance that she found herself in when the man who isn’t quite a ghost, loudly clears his throat from besides the doctor. Glancing at him, he doesn’t look impressed by the sudden interruption. Quickly looking back at Joshua, she continues “I-I also thought it would be a good time to stop by and see how my friend,” she looks out the corner of her eye at the man before focusing on the doctor again, “is doing.” 

“Who’s your friend?” Joshua asks, glancing down at the folders in his hands.  

“Uh-” she pauses, her eyes flickering between the doctor and the man she now realises she never got the name of. 

“Yoon Jeonghan,” he tells her. 

“Yoon Jeonghan,” she repeats and Jeonghan nods with a small triumphant smile. This is his chance to get some more answers. 

“I was handed his case this morning,” Joshua informs her. “I can’t really tell you anything but it’s a strange one. Just know that were doing everything we can to figure out what happened and why he won’t wake up.” 

“So, you don’t have anything?” she hears Jeonghan ask even though Joshua can’t hear him, the frustration from earlier resurfacing. “This is great,” he scoffs but his voice quickly turns to one of panic. “What if I’m like this forever? I can’t be like this forever.”  

“Oh,” she says, her look turning to one of sympathy when she hears the tone in Jeonghan’s voice. “Thank you for doing everything you can do,” she thanks Joshua. “Hopefully he wakes up soon.” 

“I hope so, too,” Joshua says reflecting her sympathy. “Well, I should get in there and start my rounds. It was good seeing you.” 

“You too,” she says, her heart not fluttering like it usually would when he said the last part. She watches him step inside the unit and make his way to the back of the room where Jeonghan pointed out the bed he was laying in. 

“Now you believe me,” he says and all she can do is nod. “Not even the doctors know what’s going on. What hope do I have if you don’t even know what’s going on?” he sighs, sounding defeated. “Maybe it all goes back to that weird guy. He must have done something to me. It’s the only explanation that I have.” 

“What weird guy?” she asks, now looking at him.  

“There was this weird guy that was leaning against my car, he was talking nonsense, then I passed out when I went to leave and woke up here, like this,” he explains. “He told me the person who can see me will know his name,” he adds looking at her, expectantly. 

“I don’t know anyone who would do that,” she tells him.  

“He also said something about the Gods,” he says, thinking back to the strange encounter.  

“The Gods?” she asks, surprised by his words. “If the God’s are involved, I’m not the person you’re looking for. I just see, feel and communicate with ghosts, that’s it.” 

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not exactly a ghost, am I? Yet, you can still see and talk with me.” 

“This- this is way above my pay grade,” she shakes her head, now trying to deny that this was happening. “Not that I get paid for it. I should go. I wish you luck with everything and I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”  

“You can’t leave-” Jeonghan starts as Y/N begins to walk away at a fast pace, trying her best to put distance between them.  

She steps inside the elevator, her eyes connecting with Jeonghan’s desperate ones, one last time before the doors close. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[missheavenfield1215]

Excuse me sir but

THIS IS THE WORST SELF INSERT OF WHOLE STORY...

I mean, they both have golden eyes, white hair (that's weird for a 15-year-old teenager)

I am referring to the fact that Drosselmeyer has put his physical characteristics on the protagonist of his story... It's a little... Narcissistic.

And being much more paranoid, they both keep the protagonist moving...

Literally

And metaphorically

Ahiru transforms into Princess Tutu to see Mytho smile, but it's Drosselmeyer who gives her the things she needs to do so. But it's because Mytho gives Ahiru the strength to keep fighting, but Drosselmeyer keeps her moving to make his novel end in tragedy...

Technically, both of them keeps her in her character inside the story.

Part 2 of this theory

[fetishfairytales2]

The Cucky ALPHAbet, Pt. 1 (Story)

Credit for the original concept of Brandi and Heather goes to @wittlesissyb4by and their excellent story “Besties”. Credit for the original concept of the “Cucky Alphabet” goes to Safeword Ignored Comics.

Each of the bolded letters corresponds to the letter from the song!

———————————————————

Early morning…

"Oh, Brandi..." I cooed, still in Connor's arms after another round of mind-blowing sex. He was such a stud. "Stop, babe!" I giggled, feeling his lips on my neck. "You're going to get me turned on again!" We were about to go for round 3 when Brandi simpered into the room. "Mmmph?” She struggled to speak behind the lip gag I made her wear. Her perfect  permanent ‘o-face’ expression was so adorable! Just like a little dolly. And of course, Connor loved it for, uh, “ease of access”.

Sitting up in bed, I grabbed a used condom from the nightstand and threw it at Brandi. "Snack time, sweetie," I giggled. "But don't worry, there'll be plenty more alpha loads for you tonight." Brandi just looked at the condom, unsure of what to do with it. "Here are your options, dummy," I said, lying back on the pillow. "Either tilt your stupid sissy head back and suck it down, or I pour it in your diapee and you sit in it all night. Now hurry up and make your choice, loser.”

“Oh, yesss, good girl," I moaned, tossing my head back in pleasure. Watching my pathetic little Brandi humiliate herself never gets old. I started touching myself as I watched her suffer, spreading my legs and teasing my clit under the covers. I'm sure Brandi is completely focused on me, but it's also fun to tease Connor a little. Mmm, I loved to flaunt my perfect body for real men.

I giggled as I watched Brandi struggle to get all the cum out of the condom and accidentally give herself a facial. "Keep it there, cupcake. It suits you," I snickered. "Come over here, honey," I beckoned. Brandi had her hands cuffed behind her back and a hobble chain on her ankles, making her waddle across the room a slow and humiliating one. Her pink tutu flared, showing off her Disney princess Pampers. "So, did you have a good time watching cartoons, Brandi?" I laughed, feeling Connor reach around me to play with my tits right in front of my ex-boyfriend’s eyes. “Mmm, thank you Daddy,” I moaned, just to rub it in.

"Mmmph, mmph…" she replied, staring at the ground. "Why not, loser?" I smirked and looked towards the open door. "Did Mommy's moans bother you? I know you’ve never heard them before, those are sounds Mommy only makes for real men..." I turned and kissed Connor again, more passionately this time, taunting her further. "Sorry, sweetness. I know it must have been tough hearing Mommy in action. Probably made that little sissy stick of yours struggle in that little chastity cage you’re locked up so tight in, huh?"

Once again, Brandi had nothing useful to say, just gazing at her feet like they were fascinating. I had to physically lift her chin to make her look me in the eyes. "Big news, little girl!" I declared, giggling as her face lit up with hope for a second, as if anything good could possibly come from this situation. "Daddy and I are going on a date today!" Her face instantly fell back into a sullen expression. "But we need your help, my dear!" Brandi's concern grew as she realized where this was going. "You see?" I turned to face Connor, "I can't bear to see her sad face! It's just so heart-wrenching!"

"Listen here, you little bitch," Connor barked at the pathetic sissy, towering over her. "You're gonna stay put and clean this fucking house. No kinky or weird shit. And we ain't dealing with your sorry ass tonight." I rolled my eyes and turned Brandi towards me. "What Daddy meant to say is that he's taking me dancing! We'll be out probably all night and I didn't have time to ask Kylie or Lyndsey to come over. So you'll have to be a big girl while Daddy and I are out, got it?"

[filmofhybe]

Christmas ballerina

🗯️ pairing : Yang jungwon x oc 💌 Genre: fluff, parent x parent smau (kinda) 1k words

warnings : jungwon is older here (27-28) while reader is (24-25) , kissing , panicking

Masterlist to my other works

As I delicately comb through Heeji's soft, dark hair, the anticipation for her ballet performance tonight fills the room. The living room is scattered with ballet tutus, ribbons, and a tiny pair of pink ballet shoes. My heart swells with pride as I think about our little ballerina, but the task at hand is proving more challenging than I anticipated.

"Heeji, sweetheart, you need to sit still..” I gently plead, trying to control the unruly strands that seem to have a life of their own. She squirms in her seat, her eyes darting around the room, trying to reach for another barbie doll that’s hair is probably the exact same craziness as Heeji’s hair right now.

"Where's Appa?" she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of impatience. "He's finishing up some work, my love. He'll be here soon.” I reassure her, I can sense her rolling her eyes as she continues to steal a glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. The minutes are slipping away, and Heeji's ballet performance is fast approaching.

"But I want him to help with my hair," she insists, her temper slowly getting to her. The familiar pang of panic creeps into my chest. She really taken over my temper..no wonder why my family was damn fed up with me.. I take a deep breath, realizing I need to get creative.

"Tell you what, baby. How about we surprise appa by having the most beautiful hair at the ballet performance? Won't that be fun?" I coax as i give her a smile, attempting to divert her attention from the impending meltdown.

Her eyes light up, momentarily distracted by the idea of surprising jungwon.I seize the opportunity to continue braiding her hair, but Heeji can't resist the urge to fidget. It's a dance of its own, as I try to keep up with her restless energy from the yogurt she has taken.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of the keypad sound echoes through the house. Heeji's face lights up with joy as she exclaims, "Appa’s home!" Her hair comes loose from my hand as her excitement takes over, running towards jungwon. I sighed as i cover my face in the paws of my coat.

Jungwon enters the room, wearing a warm smile that instantly eases my tension. Still looking perfect with the suit I picked out for him from this morning. He crosses the room in a few long strides, and before I can react, he showers me with multiple kisses on my lips. It's a brief but sweet moment that brings a smile to my face. "Hey, my beautiful ladies. What's going on in here?" Jungwon asks, glancing between Heeji and me.

"Keeps asking for you to do her hair for ballet that’s what’s going on.” I sighed as Heeji nods her hee with excitement.

Jungwon grins, clearly delighted by the request. He scoops Heeji into his arms, settling her on his lap. "Alright, princess. I’m not as good as doing your hair as Eomma, so let’s let her do it so we can make sure you have the most beautiful hair for your big performance."

I watch with a mix of relief and gratitude as Jungwon distracts Heeji with tales of magical hair fairies while I finally manage to weave her hair into an elegant bun. Heeji sits still, captivated by her dad's storytelling and the gentle strokes of the brush. Jungwon admires y/n from time to time, remembering those days where she would do his hair before performing, and still will before going to work.

As I finish the last touches, spraying it with hair spray and securing the ballet ribbon in place, Jungwon looks at Heeji with a twinkle in his eye. "You've been such a good girl. How about a special award for the most beautiful ballerina hair?"

Heeji's eyes widen with excitement, nodding at the fact she got reward. The three of us share a tender moment, surrounded by the paraphernalia of ballet dreams and the warmth of our family bond.

As we head to the ballet performance, jungwon holding a flower of bouquet for Heeji. I can't help but marvel at the beauty of these fleeting moments, realizing that it's the shared love and laughter that truly make our family complete. Heeji is truely a daddy’s girl.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world

[waklman]

hey! It’s my birthday today! I was wondering if you could write a small blurb about Bradley doing something special for babybear on her birthday? No worries if you aren’t able to! I love the series! <3

Birthday Suit

first off, happy freaking birthday!!!!! of course i’ll write something for you!!!! thank you for enjoying my series, i have on my party hat for you right as we speak B) i wanted to get this posted on the day of your birthday so sorry if it’s not as polished >.> (also maybe because i wrote this on the shaky bus..so that too haha)

warnings: fluff, 18+ blog in general, minors dni.

word count: 900

something ‘bout you masterlist.

“Shit–she’s not here yet, right?” Bradley asks frantically, nudging the door open with his foot—hands clumsy handling a cake.

He’s yet to look up from the very costly decorated birthday cake, trying to balance it with sweaty fingers. You’ve been raving over the local bakery’s designs lately—showing Bradley their custom made desserts to an endless degree.

Which only meant that—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t splurge on a cake. Especially one that was shaped like the head of a bear. When he finally arrived at the bakery for pickup, in his scramble to show up on time—Bradley couldn’t even be mad that one of the bear’s eyeballs were slipping off the edge, because you’d like it.

It would make you laugh, and that’s all Bradley needed to know before stuffing a fat twenty dollar bill in the tip jar—rendering the teenage girl at the register speechless.

As he sets the cake down, Bradley stretches his neck to face the group of usually chatty aviators surrounding the kitchen island.

His eyes are already narrowed into slits, staring at them through his eyebrows with a warning look.

There’s only silence between him and the group, who all have their mouths parted in shock. Hangman’s mouth is parted the widest, making the paper party horn slip from his teeth—which annoys Bradley even more.

Bob is the only one who can’t face Bradley, blinking down at the cake nervously—trying his hardest to ignore his choice of apparel.

“Don’t say a thing,” he grits, watching Jake collect his thoughts, lips puckering together—a clear sign that he does in fact—has something to say.

To no one’s surprise, he’s the first to speak up. “What the—What the fuck is on your face?” Jake sputters, lips curling inside his mouth to let out a hideous laugh.

He says exactly what everyone’s thinking, causing most of the pilots to double over in laughter. Though some of them—well just Coyote, accidentally spits up in his own hand, from holding in his amusement.

“What the fuck is on his face?!” Natasha yells the question at Jake. “Don’t you mean—What the fuck is he wearing?” Natasha puts forth, tugging on the pink tutu around his waist.

“Hey. Hands off woman, this took forever to put on.” Bradley grunts, turning his hip away from her hands.

It’s not like Bradley isn’t aware of how ridiculous he looks. There’s a full shaving cream beard ringing around his mouth for God's sake. Not to mention the bright pink tulle around his jeans—paired with a matching princess tiara sitting on his curls, of course.

He’s actually very aware that he looks like he’s been dressed by a group of six year old girls given free reign—also known as the collective who runs your brain. You’d have a hoot at this.

Before anyone else can get another word in—the front door of your apartment jiggles, and Fanboy quickly hushes everyone. The make fun of Rooster convention is put to an end as everyone scatters to a nearby hiding spot. If it’s one thing the group is good at—it’s knowing how to act quickly.

Right as you walk in, you almost fall over from being greeted with loud screams of “Suprise!” and “Happy Birthday!” and even one “I love you more than Rooster!” coming from Hangman.

Clutching your chest, your mouth stretches into a wide smile—heart full of joy at the surprise. “W-What? Oh my god,” you catch sight of Bradley first.

Completely dropping your stuff onto the floor, you go running at the flushed pilot, throwing yourself into his arms. Bradley stumbles back with a shy look on his face, “How do I look honey?”

You place a searing kiss to his mouth, letting the shaving cream stamp your own face—matching Bradley. “So freaking cute, I love the tiara,” you laugh, taking it for yourself.

Jake’s already starting, “See, I don’t know—it looks fine on her but on Rooster it’s kinda—” Natasha jabs him in the ribs with her elbow, not wanting him to ruin the moment. Jake groans, catching the hint.

Bradley finally drops you, hands still on your waist as you slip back onto the wooden tiles. You get distracted, playing with Bradley’s skirt as he grins down at you, “How’d they get this in your size? I tried checking before but—”

“Ahem.” Payback cuts in, knowing you and Bradley tend to get lost in your own little world.

You both turn to face the noise, and everyone’s surrounding the cake, waiting for you to notice it.

“No. No you didn’t!” You gape, hands coming to your mouth—smearing your new white beard.

Your eyes start to actually well up watching everyone make excited gestures at you—happy that you got your dream cake. Hangman flaps his hands around the cake, with an open smile.

Unable to contain your tears, your fingers stretch over your eyes, covering your face completely. “Baby—wait hey are you crying?” Bradley worriedly leans down, trying to pry your hands off.

You fall foward into his chest, and he catches you. “It’s s’cute. The ugly little eyeball—I can't,” you muffle into your palms.

“Thought you’d like that,” he laughs, glad they’re just happy tears. Placing a kiss onto your hairline, he whispers, “Happy birthday babybear.”

“Babybear!” All the pilots shout in unison, some even tearing up themselves. In a flash, everyone's throwing themselves at you both, turning it into a group hug. Hangman is the last to join, wrapping his arms around everyone, sniffling.

You just cry harder at the sentiment, this is the best birthday ever.

note: as always, thank you for reading and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tags for this series: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68 @stark3ys @roosterbruiser @gracelyn-writes @zombiedeathsworld @blueoorchid @averyhotchnerr

join my taglist for this series here or follow @waklman-library and turn on notifs to get notified when i post !

[brownsugarwrites]

Do you think you could do number 16 in the prompt list with Carlos? There is such a lack of dilf!Carlos and it makes me sad D:

yes!!! dad!carlos x parent!reader (carlos with a dadbod and grey streaks….)

He would literally be so excited when you tell him that you’re pregnant and even more excited when you tell him its a girl. he buys so many things for the baby even though shes not even here yet.

He falls in love with the baby as soon as you birth her. Literally love at first sight.

When he does skin to skin contact with her he tears up hearing her little heart beat and feeling the tiny grip on his finger.

Literally thanks you everyday for blessing him with yalls daughter.

Will be more than happy to take the baby so you can take a shower or make dinner because he loves spending time with her.

tummy time warrior! the baby may hate it but he loves seeing her bobble her big head trying to hold it up to meet her daddies eyes loads of encouragement too. like “Look at daddy pretty girl” while rattling the toy to get her attention. When shes finished for the day hes like “Did so good today princess!!”

When she gets a little older he puts her in the baby carriers when they go shopping and picks up a toy she doesnt need everytime.

When she hits prime toddler ages hes always seen playing princesses and tea party with him. Even goes as far as dressing in tutus and tiaras so he could fit the theme.

Family movie nights when yall are watching some animated movie with a bowl of popcorn shared between the three of you.

She is spoiled rotten. Literally getting everything she wants if she asks with those big brown eyes.

Carlos the type of dad to match outfits with his baby girl and its so fucking cute.

Prime teen years is rough for papa Carlos. Shes still spoiled but when she starts hanging out later with her friends and even bring boys around he gets scared. You have to comfort him letting him know she wasnt going to stay his baby forever and it was ok that she was growing up. Definitely cries a few times 💀

definitely tries to have another kid (ifykim) 🫣

[reigningqueenofwords]

Different Towns

Word count: 1,493 Request: @fictionalabyss original idea was cute little weechesters on halloween. Dean bringing Sam around trick or treating and trying to make it a good time for him. but for love, can maybe make it that it’s reader seeing him every few years, like maybe her parents move around a lot for other reasons, and every so often, she finds herself in the same town as them, and she has a crush on dean, then meets him as a grown man when shes working a bar or something and admits she’s seen him around since he was a kid and still likes him ?

Read on AO3

Skipping down the street, you were humming happily. At 5 years old, your biggest complaint was not enough sprinkles on your ice cream. You were wearing your favorite pink tutu skirt, white stockings, cowgirl boots, and a white glittery top. Your hair hung over your shoulders in braids.

Your parents weren’t far behind you, so there was no reason for you to be scared. Seeing a little boy that you didn’t recognize, you smiled and waved at him. Your attention was too focused on him that you failed to see the rock that caught your boot.

Down you went. Skinning your knee, dirtying your stockings, and scraping your hands. “Ow, ow, ow!” You sat there, tearing up.

Although your parents were rushing over, it was an older boy that got their first. “Are you okay, princess?” He asked with a small smile.

“It hurts.” You sniffed, showing him where a small pebble was stuck to your palm. Your Y/E/C eyes looked into his green ones.

He made a face. “Yeah, my little brother has that happen a lot.” He told you. Your parents slowed a bit when they saw that he was distracting you. “You’re pretty tough for a girl.” He teased you, earning the meanest glare that your small face could muster. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

Your mother smiled softly, seeing that he was getting anything he could that was stuck to your hands. “Y/N.” You told him.

“Well, Y/N, look at that.” Dean grinned, showing you where the pebble had been. “Be more careful, next time you might not have a brave knight around.” He stood up, helping you as well. “Take care, princess.” He waved, walking off, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Now and then the green eyed knight would cross your mind, but usually it was fleeting. It wasn’t like you’d ever see him again. You’d moved from that town just two weeks after you’d met him, and moved two more times since.

It was nearing Halloween just two years after that. You were dressed up as a princess knight. A costume that worked better in theory. You were determined, however. Holding your father’s hand, you were lead through the neighborhood, going door to door. “Daddy! It’s a stormtrooper!” You grinned up at him, pointing to the boys that were coming down the stairs from the house that you were going to. “And Han Solo!” You squealed.

Han Solo looked at you and grinned. “I love you.” He chuckled.

You gasped. “I know!” You were so excited that he’d spoken to you. “Wait, Dean!” You ran over and hugged him. “I’ve been careful. Don’t worry.”

His eyes went wide. “Holy crap, what are the odds.” He laughed. “Go get your candy, I gotta finish taking my brother around.” His head motioned to the stormtrooper who nodded. “Looks like you don’t need a knight anymore.”

It had been 6 years since you’d fallen on that sidewalk. You were walking home from school one day when you were stopped by a boy that you’d seen in school. He was a well known bully. Being forced to look up at him didn’t phase you. “Awe, little girl all alone?” He smirked, knowing how scared kids were of him.

You gave him a sweet smile. “No, you’re here!” You told him, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you before reaching out to grab your backpack. “Let’s see what you have in here.”

Instantly, your smile fell. Your heel came down on his toes, making him bend over slightly. He was just low enough that you were able to pull your fist back and get him in the mouth. His hand went up, feeling the warm liquid on his hand. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” You snapped, glaring.

Hearing laughter, you turned and saw a couple of boys. “Good hit, princess.” The taller boy grinned. “I doubt he’ll be bothering you again.” He pointed to the bully, who, when you looked, was walking off.

You smiled back at the two boys. “Thanks, but I gotta get home. Bye!” Waving, you ran off down the street to your house.

It wasn’t until dinner that night that you realized that had been Dean earlier. Dean was the only one who’d ever called you princess outside of your family. A small smile formed as you thought about how proud he’d looked.

Standing against the wall near the food court, you were playing some game on your phone. Your friends were all getting drinks, but you’d be leaving soon and didn’t want to waste your money. “Well, hello.” You slowly looked up to see one of the school football players standing there, grinning. “I’ve seen you around school, you’re hot. How’s about you let me take you out?” He suggested, licking his lips.

“No.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Come on.” He pushed, leaning a bit closer. “I know how to show a girl a good time.”

You were about to let him have it when you felt the leather of a jacket on your shoulders. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” The man smirked at you before looking at the jock. “I suggest you start takin’ no for an answer, buddy.” His smirk had fallen, his jaw was tight, and his voice was low. “Now beat it before I beat you.” He ground out.

Smiling, you bit your lip. “Thanks.” You chuckled, going to turn to him. “He was about to wind up with a sore crotch.” You laughed.

“Oh, he should be thanking me, then!” He laughed. Your eyes couldn’t believe who they were seeing. Once again- it was Dean. “You okay?” Dean asked, worried.

You shook it off, about to say something when your friend tugged your hand. “Your mom’s here!” She told you, making you groan. Without giving you a chance to say goodbye, you were pulled away, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Balancing a tray on your hand, lifted just slightly above your head, you moved through the restaurant that you worked at. Your shift ended in less than an hour, and you were looking forward to it.

After moving around so much as a kid, you were done. You’d been living in this town since you were 19, and when your parents left, you opted to stay. It meant busting your ass, but it was worth it. Making friends was less stressful when you weren’t worried about when you would leave.

Dean hadn’t entered your mind in awhile. You figured it was some childhood crush, although when you were younger you were convinced you loved him. The thought made you chuckle lightly to yourself as you went behind the bar to help the man sitting there.

Setting the tray down, your hands leaned on the edge. You were in a black tank top, jeans, and your black apron hung on your hips. Smiling, you did your usual. “Hey, hun. What can I get you?” You asked sweetly.

When he smiled, his dimples popped like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, two beers. Thanks.” He told you.

“Comin’ right up.” You nodded. Turning, you grabbed two Coronas and popped the lids on both. Turning, you froze. The dimpled hottie had been joined at this point. Dean fucking Winchester.

In a suit.

He smirked at you. “You okay there, princess?” You were standing there, with your mouth hanging open like an idiot.

Finally, you set their beers down and crossed your arms over your chest. A huge grin spread over your face, your head tilting slightly to the right. “Dean.” You chuckled.

“Do I know you?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

You leaned on your elbows on the bar, holding your palm up. “You once told me that I’m pretty tough for a girl. And to be careful, because next time I might not have a knight around.” You told him.

The other man groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve slept your way through here, too.”

Laughing, you went on. “Two years later, you told me you loved me. I said ‘I know’ moments before hugging you. And you told me I didn’t need a knight anymore.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Dude. I was 7!” He looked at his brother. “Wait, I remember that night…” He looked back to you. “That was just in passing, though.”

“Another time, it was ‘good hit, princess’. Didn’t hit me until hours later it was you. You’re the only one outside of my family who ever called me that.” He looked like it sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. “You told me ‘sorry I’m late, princess’, and then told a football player off for me. I didn’t get to thank my knight that day. My mom showed up.”

Dean’s eyes were on the bar before they snapped to you. “Holy shit.” He grinned. “That was all you?!”

You nodded. “That was all me.”

[hellcheer-heaven]

Any Headcanons for girl dad!Eddie?

Yes, yes I do!

When he learned that they were having a girl, he was even more excited than Chrissy.

Eddie adored Elizabeth the moment she was born.

He is tender, gentle, and kind to his little girl.

He would move the stars and moon for her.

When she was an infant he would get teary eyed when he would pass her over to someone else, even if it was for a minute with a familiar person.

Chrissy would tell him that she needs to breastfeed her, but he can’t let her go, “No, Chrissy, I don’t want to. Please just a few more minutes.”

Eddie is pretty good at impressions so he would talk to baby Elizabeth as Kermit the Frog, Elmo, and Mickey Mouse.

Aside from the usual children’s songs, he will also sing gentle renditions of rock and metal songs to her; oddly enough those ones help to ease her when she’s crying.

If she wants to play princesses, he will gladly put on a tutu and tiara.

If she wants to play dinosaur, she will chase him and he must get “eaten” every time; otherwise he’s gonna “eat” her.

His knowledge of hair care was next to nothing, so he quickly learned how to care for and style her locks in different ways.

For her first day of preschool, he and Chrissy made her a little jean jacket with adorable patches: A butterfly, a heart, a rabbit, three flowers, and a rainbow.

Eddie wanted to add band logos, but he was worried that the teachers would judge her (turns out the teachers loved rock/metal too).

Chrissy reminds Eddie that Lizzie needs to eat nutritional food when she goes to preschool (which he does pack), but he’ll sneak at least one sweet treat into her lunch.

Eddie is the tickle monster: He loves to tickle Chrissy and Lizzie.

He is also the raspberry monster.

He will be her canvas when it comes to play makeup, “Pretty. So pretty like mommy and me.”

Chrissy has taken a number of pictures of three y/o Lizzie making up his face.

Lizzie loves to listen to her dad’s “scary/crazy music” and asks him to play it, resulting in them rocking out to Black Sabbath, Metallica, and more.

He will clap the loudest and cheer the longest whenever she performs a song.

Eddie loves to play his acoustic for her; he would play and sing Beatles songs to her.

He will create different voices for the characters in her story books.

He will give many, many, many kisses on her forehead.

Lizzie will try to get her dad on her side when Chrissy tells her “no.”

She gives him the sad puppy eyes and he’s trying not to let that get to him.

It was challenging at first, but he does learn to be consistent and follow through after telling her “no.”

He always tells her that he loves her.

When she begins to talk a little more, Eddie does a special morning ritual with her in front of the mirror every morning.

He holds her and asks her to repeat each of these phrases: “I am strong. I am brave. I am smart. I am beautiful. I am loved.”

[schafpudel]

Epidemiology of the Raven's Blood

Part 0: Prologue

Realistically, the blood does things because it's convenient to the plot of the anime, and no deeper thought needs to be put in than that. However, while it does explain inconsistencies in its writing, it's boring and not fun to my pattern-seeking brain. I like to piece together coherent internal logic to stuff in fiction, even if I know the authors themselves didn't think that hard about it. It's fun to me!

At the same time, Princess Tutu's meta-fictional conceit does give us some wiggle room to borrow the Doylist understanding and smuggle it back into a Watsonian explanation. So...

In-universe, I think, the purpose of the Raven’s Blood can be understood as a plot device to easily convert a separate “character” and their body into a narrative extension of the Raven; that this is why Drosselmeyer would write it into the logic of his story. Bored of a character you introduced previously and want to heighten the stakes? They're a toadie of the Raven now. And when we go a level down in fictionality...

To the Raven, other living things exist to be exploited. The only use you can have, beyond being a meal, is being a pawn who can get it what it wants – and what it wants is to consume. Like some ancient castle-bound vampire or wicked dragon, its power and intelligence are ultimately in service of a simple predatory desire. If you are neither edible nor manipulable, you are simply a nuisance.

Diseases and parasites will manipulate pain and pleasure, fear and love, the body and the brain. But while a real disease or parasite’s goal in psychological and physiological manipulation is to reproduce, to turn the infected into a means by which to spread itself to new hosts... the Raven's curse is uninterested in this. What matters, to the Raven, is that the cursed becomes a minion and a pawn, who can bring its prey closer to its own mouth.

Part 1: Lay All Your Love On Me

Did you know rabies induces spasms of fear and hallucinations in its victims, to get them to bite? That the characteristic fear of water is caused by the virus tightening its victims throats if they even think of drinking, all to the end of preventing the miserable animal from washing away its contagion-rich saliva? It presses levers and pushes buttons of abject misery on the control panel of the animal, on its quest to get what it wants.

One symptom of the Raven’s blood illustrated by Mytho’s progression that fascinates me is pain. This is not simply a magic juice that makes you evil; it is a sickness.

Let’s look at the the scene in episode 19, where Kraehe dances a pas-de-deux with (a clearly pained, unwilling, and unhappy) Mytho to try and convince him to “give in” to the Raven’s Blood and become her prince. She succeeds, causing Mytho to become possessed by Raven!Mytho, who immediately retaliates that he’s owed her love as a prince and that she should love him more, and him alone. (Strange, as Kraehe/Rue has never once indicated that she has any romantic feelings towards anyone else at all…)

What’s odd is what happens immediately after this point. Mytho’s eyes widen, as if what he’s just said has triggered some kind of… realization. We then see him tremble and close his eyes as they shift from pink to gold and back, indicating – as always – either a struggle between Raven!Mytho and “the Real Mytho,”or a struggle by Mytho against the Raven’s blood influence. (It often seems the show isn’t entirely sure whether to treat Raven!Mytho is a corrupted mental state and therefore part of Mytho, or as an intrusive raven persona possessing an agency-less Mytho’s body against his will.)

Mytho, once again under the blood’s control, pushes Kraehe away and stumbles off, clutching himself in a self-hug as he mutters about not having enough love. The crows rejoice as Kraehe looks on sadly.

This is clearly, from context, not just about Raven!Mytho needing to acquire love for sacrifices, because demanding more love from Kraehe would not accomplish that goal. He feels like he needs love, exclusively directed at him, from as many sources as possible. Viscerally, like a hunger or an addiction. And it hurts. The audience is invited to share Rue’s concern and sadness at this pitiful sight.

(This narrative choice *gets* at me a little, because we are not normally meant to sympathize with Raven!Mytho. By and large, he is treated as an unambiguously evil Other that has usurped the “real” Mytho’s body and identity. Yet here, he elicits pity. The monster in the prince is pitiful.)

Here’s the same body language earlier, in episode 15, as Raven!Mytho meets Pique to sacrifice her:

Saying he needs her love immediately reads as an act of manipulation: “only you can give me what I need” as emotional priming for the ritual phrase that will turn her into a willing sacrifice. It also reads as simply a statement that he needs her for the purpose of the sacrifice. (It is, of course, able to be said openly because Pique does not have the context to know this, and accordingly run the fuck away.)

But going back after episode 19, this moment (and several others, on a rewatch) feels a little... re-contextualized. All the above is still true, yes. But it also seems that Raven’s Blood Mytho really does feel like he needs other people’s love, on a visceral, gnawing level.

And the Raven eats love.

'I'm in control of the situation', Raven!Mytho said, sweating, "I'm not getting owned,"

If a real parasite did this - if, say, there was some animal that rewired its victims brains in such a way that they could only feel relief from pain when taking steps towards feeding it or its young - it would be internet famous for its insidiousness. Can't you imagine? There'd be a Bogleech.com article and everything.

As Mytho’s condition progresses towards its final stage from episode 21 onwards, we see these feelings explicitly infect the psyche of Mytho further, shown physically trembling as he describes his disorientation and confusion:

By the end of episode 23, Mytho's... condition has run its full course. Yet the pain continues, and it only gets more obvious that these are spasms of literal, physical pain. In episode 24, Mytho shudders in pain as he screams, clutches his chest, does some agitated fouettés, bows over in pain again, and then jumps out the door as he begs for somebody, anybody to dance with him.

We also get confirmation that the physical pain is accompanied by emotional pain, such as intensified feelings of loneliness:

(And, judging from other scenes, as well as Rue's behavior, intensified jealousy too.)

But Mytho cannot get anyone to dance with him, in this state.

(Saying the Raven "awakened" him, in episode 19 - did he mean the suite of demonic powers that the Raven's Blood has granted him? Did he mean the uncharacteristic charisma, eloquence, and manipulative cunning that burned in him like a fever while under its power? Those boons were all just to make it easier for him to seduce prey to feed the Raven. He loses them all once he's outlived that purpose.)

(No need for the infected slowly lure prey in with a silvered tongue and honeyed charms when they have a big strong beak to peck hearts out of chest, after all.)

He is no longer useful as a lure for prey.

His only remaining use to the Raven is as food himself.

Part 2: Serving Your Heart On A Platter

(In its own post on account of the image limit.)

For now, though, our conclusions:

1. Mytho's life is terrible. It is known.

2. Rue probably suffers from magically and emotionally induced chronic pain!!! and has her entire life!!!

Thanks for coming to my Lecture. See you next time for Part 2.

[harlowtales]

Jack’s Daughter wants a bear that looks like her daddy so she has him with her when he goes on tour.

Jack had just come off tour and had about a week before he headed out again. His daughter was not feeling him leaving at all. “I’ll make you a deal” Patricia said in his lap as she played with his beard “You get me a daddy doll so I can have you all the time ok?” She said trying to convince Jack of her plan.

Jack’s heart hurt when she said this. It was more confirmation that he was gone too much. He thought you were just nagging but now he saw what you were talking about.

“Patricia, I can do the next best thing.” Jack said swallowing emotions that were welling up in his throat. “Let’s go to Build a Bear and you can get a bear that has things daddy would have on him.”

Patricia’s eyes went big and her dimples danced in delight. “Yay!! Let’s go!! “ She said “just hold on, I need to grab my tutu…the pink one.” She said decisively. This let Jack know this was a very serious situation. “Ok I’m ready Daddy” she said grabbing her purse.

Jack couldn’t believe how she was growing. She was becoming all to aware that he wasn’t around as much as she deserved. This was the least he could do. “Buckle up baby.” Jack said as he made sure she was strapped down in her booster seat.

“Jack Harlow is coming in with his daughter we just got the call, they’ll be here any minute” The manager of Build A Bear said. Gee was waiting to met Jack there with his kids.

“Oh yay! Uncle Geeeee!!!” Patricia squealed and gave Gee a biggest hug her tiny arms could muster

“Yo wussup lil princess.” Gee said grinning behind his dark shades. Jack Harlow and EST Gee shopping was not a quiet affair. Fans started screaming and banging on the store glass as they walked around.

Patricia was used to it and was in her own little world with her dad all to herself. The lady helping them put their bear together was asking her what she wanted. “Ok 1st curly hair.” She said thoughtfully “dimples, blue eyes, a beard, and a big chain” she said as if those were standard ingredients.

The lady just looked nervous. She felt pressure to make Jack’s little girls happy, put she would have to see what she could do about a Kentucky state chain.

“She don’t have to have it exact.” Jack said with a chuckle seeing the look on the shop clerks’s face. For the chain they got a pic of it and made one as close as they could.

“That’s not it.” Patricia said discerningly

“Patricia they did their best. Say thank you.” Jack said not impressed with her attitude

“Sorry daddy.” She said looking down knowing her dad didn’t like her acting too spoiled.

Gee’s kids got their bears done and jumped on their dad with big hugs. “Look Uncle Jack!” They said cheerfully holding up their bears to him.

“That’s dope!” Jack agreed giving them high fives.

“Not as nice as mine!!” Patricia said competitively putting her bear in their faces

Jack rolled his eyes. She was even more competitive than he was. “Be nice Patricia” Jack said getting a good look at the bear with his features and laughed.

“Looks just like you dog” Gee said sharing a laugh with his friend. They left out the back of the store to avoid the crowds.

Patricia fell asleep in the Jeep sucking her thumb and holding the bear. Jack looked in the rearview to see the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. He carried her to the house over his shoulder fast asleep on his shoulder while hanging on tightly to her bear.

“Wow really looks like you baby!” You exclaimed when you saw it. Nicest hair I’ve seen on a bear.” You said with a grin “Give her to me I’ll put her down.”

You took your tired little muffin and put her down for a nap. “That was really sweet of you Jack.” You said cuddling up to him on the couch. “Jack?” You looked up to see tears tricking down his face. “Hunny? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not enough.” Jack said wiping his tears.

“What do you mean?” You said concerned

“Some stupid fucking bear is not going to be enough when I’m away for weeks.” He said miserably

“Hunny. You have to get over this guilt you feel. She’s fine honestly.” You said kissing his wet cheeks

“Yeah cuz she’s got you.” He said looking at you with all the sorrow in his heart in his eyes.

“She has US.” You corrected him. Once Jack was in these moods there’s not a lot that could be done, but he always snapped out of it.

Jack rested his head on you and you let him pick the movie and made some popcorn. You played with his curls as he got lost in the story. When Patricia woke from her nap she snuggled right in the middle of both you with her bear. “Mommy do you like Thomas?” She asked you

“Thomas? That’s his name?” You asked her

“Yes, isn’t he cute?” She said playing with the bear’s curls.

You looked at the bear, then at Jack, then back to the bear.” This is going to be hard to keep this straight.” You laughed

Jack finally smiled and tickled Patricia with her bear.

“Daddy watch his chain.” She said with a straight face.

“Oops my bad.” Jack apologized straightening the bear’s clothes and jewelry. It had on cargo pants and tank top.

“Thomas needs a case for his chain and sneakers like yours” Patricia said “and a studio”

“Ok got it.” Jack said taking note.

“I love you Daddy.” Patricia said kissing the bear

“I love you Patricia” Jack said trying to get her attention away from the bear

“Yeah you too Daddy.” She said patting his back in consolation

“Looks like you just replaced yourself.” You said laughing.

[neon-kazoo]

Spontaneous Parenthood

(Prompt by @autocrats-in-love : “Are you my new daddy?” The hero’s child asked, blinking up with wide eyes. The villain sighed. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”)

The villain was overjoyed when he learned the address of the hero’s real home and was practically vibrating with excitement as he followed the GPS to the location.

“You have arrived at your destination,” a monotone feminine voice announced.

“Yeah yeah, I see it.”

Villain slowed to a stop just in front of a classic suburban home, complete with grass that almost needed to be cut—such was the life of a hero, Villain presumed; too busy to pull out the lawnmower every weekend. He took in the off-white paint and the layered grey shingles on the roof. Two deck chairs sat adjacent to the front door, and a hydrangea bush in full bloom next to the mailbox. There were no cars in the driveway, and the garage was open and empty, beckoning Villain out of his SUV and into the home.

Once inside, he took in the large kitchen, with shiny countertops and a giant island. The living room was just as overwhelming, plush carpet and huge couch not quite properly filling the huge space. There were more doors on the far wall, but Villain found his gaze drawn to the grand staircase settled to his right.

Start upstairs, then work his way down.

Villain ran his hand along the carved wooden banister until he reached the top, then he headed for the farthest door on the hall.

Surely he could find something to use against Hero in this practical mansion.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs behind him sent Villain spinning into the nearest room, shutting the door swiftly but silently.

When he turned around, he saw something completely unexpected.

A child, sleeping in a small bed, tucked beneath a Tinker Bell comforter.

There was no time to process the discovery because outside the door, a woman’s voice sounded, “Yeah, it’s still in the shop. Katie’s taking a nap though, so I think I’m gonna let you go. Yeah, finally some Mommy-time. I can’t wait to actually finish this book.”

The voice faded, and Villain breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, was premature.

A new voice, this one tiny and young, caused Villain to jump two feet in the air.

“Who are you?” It asked, and the villain froze.

“Um…” he searched his surroundings for any plausible cover and found nothing but butterfly lamps and Disney Princess dolls.

“I’m a friend of your Dad’s?” He finally tried, uncertainty lacing his tone. He had no idea what kind of acting it took to convince a child, but he figured that probably wasn’t good enough.

His plan was in ruins, house now unsearchable with two occupants. He couldn’t just leave either, the kid would rat him out immediately.

That left only one option.

“I’m taking you somewhere else,” Villain spoke quickly, poking his head out the door to ensure the woman—presumably this girl’s mother—was gone.

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he replied as he took hold of a tiny hand and pulled the girl towards the door.

Kids like surprises, right?

“Uh uh,” she shook her head. “How do I know you’re not a bad man?”

“I am a bad man,” Villain responded automatically. When she tried to pull away from his hand, he scooped her up and started down the stairs quickly.

Distraction. He needed a distraction.

“What’s with the tutu?”

The girl looked down at her outfit: a pink tutu overlaying a pair of Mickey Mouse themed footy-pajamas, complete with an eye patch flipped up over her forehead.

“I’m a fairy Princess pirate!”

She appeared utterly displeased with Villain’s ineptitude at recognizing her incredibly well-established costume.

“Shouldn’t you have a tiara or something?”

Wrong question.

He watched as she took a big breath and opened her mouth and realized he had to act fast.

He said the first thing that popped into his head.

“We can get ice cream!”

Villain grimaced. His current plan was contingent on a child staying quiet for frozen treats. Not his best work.

Luckily, the promise of ice cream seemed to easily override the kid’s survival instincts. Villain would be sure to mention that to Hero when she gets returned.

Speaking of Hero.

“Where’s my Dad?” The little girl asked as they reached the driveway.

“He’s not here right now, but if you come with me you’ll see him soon.”

He unlocked the car, but Hero’s daughter refused to get in.

“I don’t want to go. Why are you here and Dad isn’t?”

Villain opened his mouth to reply before realizing he had no idea how to comfort a confused child, much less one he was kidnapping.

“Let’s just get in the car.”

The girl seemed to think for a moment before she spoke again. Her face shifted from upset to…curious?

“Are you my new daddy?” She asked, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

The villain sighed, exasperated. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”

“Daddy told me I shouldn’t get in the car with strangers,” she said sternly, pouting her lip slightly and planting her feet.

“I- okay, you know what, fine. I will be temporarily filling in the role of father in your Dad’s absence. Is that good enough? Can we get in the car now?”

“Sure!” Her face returned to its usual brightness, and she lifted up her arms and made grabby-hands at the villain. Villain loosed a sigh of relief and bent down to lift the child into the car.

“I can’t ride in the front,” she protested, and Villain froze holding her hovering in front of the open passenger side door.

“…right,” Villain hesitated, looking around for anyone to come catch him in the act and solve this problem easily. If the police were called, he could just drop the child and run.

Unfortunately, the street was quiet, and Villain had no legitimate reason to halt this abduction.

Setting the girl back down, Villain closed the door and opened the backseat.

Taking a second attempt at lifting her into the car, this time, she almost reached the leather seat before stopping him again.

“I need my car seat! It’s in case I get in a axe-see-dent,” she sounded, kicking her feet in displeasure.

Villain groaned.

“I don’t have a car seat.”

“That’s not very safe,” Katie—if Villain remembered correctly—crossed her arms and huffed exaggeratedly.

“Okay…I’ll just go…find one,” Villain murmured, mostly to himself.

Villain wandered absently into the garage in search of a car seat. He saw several things he had missed the first time in his excitement. For example, three bikes mounted to the wall, one suspiciously small and pink and sparkly. If the training wheels weren’t a big enough red flag, everything else should have been: a pink life vest, chalk, sidewalk paint, bubble solution. Villain certainly didn’t take Hero for one to occupied by a giant bubble wand in his free time.

By a stroke of luck, he recognized the seat sitting in a corner.

A few minutes later, after studying confusing safety instruction stickers and teaching Katie a few new words in the process, Villain successfully buckled Hero’s child into the seat.

Villain finally settled into the front, driving away after buckling himself—at Katie’s insistence.

“Play Lil Jon!”

“I told you, this is a kidnapping, I’m not going to play you music.”

Katie went silent, and Villain prayed she wasn’t about to burst into tears.

“When are we getting ice cream?”

Villain adjusted his rear view mirror to be able to keep an eye on the kid. Her eyes were locked out the heavily tinted window and her lip was trembling.

He cursed, internally this time.

Villain blamed innate parental instincts as he pulled into the Dairy Queen, ‘Turn Down For What’ blasting through the speakers.

He could feel the beginning of a headache pressing behind his eyes.

It was going to be a long ride.