#sugar glow kit

[cutiepieautistic]

Roxanne wolf self care/stim kit

Putty/chewy/tangle jr

Squishy/plushie

glow sticks/fidget cube/scented nail polish

Icon credit

[esouliie]

Christmas at the Romanoff’s

(natasha romanoff x reader) & (platonic!yelena belova x reader)

tags | christmas headcanon – friends to lovers, first kiss, fluff and comfort!

notes | hello, pls take this small headcanon as a thank you for reading and supporting all my fics even though i cannot keep up with demand lmao. i promise to do better in the new year. merry christmas! <3

It’s your first Christmas with Natasha, and you quickly discover that the Black Widow is… not exactly a holiday enthusiast. At least, not in the traditional sense. When you first arrived at the apartment she shares with her sister, you were greeted by Yelena’s unholy mix of holiday cheer and chaos. Mismatched ornaments hung precariously from a tree that was way too big for their living room, a plate of burnt cookies sat on the counter, and garish Christmas music blared at an almost concerning volume. Natasha, however, looked like she was about two seconds away from wrapping the excessive lights around her neck.

“I hate Christmas music,” Natasha mutters under her breath as you hang up your coat. Yelena’s halfway through yelling “All I Want for Christmas is You” with a Santa hat perched at an angle on her head. “She’s been doing this for weeks,” she adds, her voice low like it’s some covert confession. It takes you all but twenty minutes to realise that Natasha has a very complicated relationship with Christmas. She doesn’t hate it exactly—she just doesn’t really know what to do with it. With all the joy. When you try to hand her a burnt gingerbread cookie, she looks at it like it’s some kind of alien artifact. “Why would I eat a cookie shaped like a man?” She asks flatly, before breaking it in half like it personally offended her.

She then proceeded to argue how she’d be more likely to eat one of these ‘monstrosities’ if it was shaped like a woman…

But there are little moments where she tries, and it’s adorable in the most understated way. You catch her quietly fixing the crooked ornaments on the tree when she thinks no one’s looking, muttering under her breath about how “the reds need to go next to the greens.” One night, after Yelena goes to bed, you find Natasha scrolling through YouTube tutorials for how to wrap presents, muttering curses in Russian every time the tape sticks to her fingers.

And then there’s the stockings. Yelena insisted everyone have one, even though Natasha grumbled about it. But before you went to bed on Christmas Eve, you noticed that Natasha’s stocking was the most stuffed. There’s a random assortment of things crammed in there—protein bars, an extra pair of thick socks, a tiny first aid kit. You don’t have to ask to know that she filled her own stocking, long before Christmas Eve. The thought makes your heart ache in the sweetest, saddest way. She spent so many holidays alone that it just… became her normal.

Finally, it’s Christmas morning and Natasha is draped over the couch like a cat, one leg tucked under her, watching as you and Yelena clean up the mess from last night. She’s quiet, sipping a mug of tea, but you’ve learned by now that quiet Natasha doesn’t exactly mean unhappy Natasha. In fact, she looks content—eyes crinkling every time Yelena grumbles about your “lack of enthusiasm” in picking up all the decorative pillows.

What really steals the show, though, is the mountain of presents you’ve brought. You didn’t mean for it to get out of hand, but once you started, it was impossible to stop. You’d see something and think, Yelena would love this, or Natasha would smile at that, and next thing you knew, you were hauling six bags into their apartment like some sort of festive mule. When the gift exchange begins, Yelena dives into her pile like a kid on sugar overload. Her laughter is infectious as she opens each one: a set of retro pins for her jacket, a waffle maker, a framed picture of you and her after a mission (that one earns a rare hug). She’s glowing, grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. Natasha just sits there, watching her sister, her fingers loosely holding the edge of the blanket draped over her lap.

You notice she hasn’t opened her gifts yet—not even the ones with her name written in your careful handwriting. You nudge her gently, teasing, “what’s the matter, Romanoff? Afraid you’ll cry if I outdid you?” She gives you a half-smile, the kind that makes your chest ache a little because it’s soft in a way she rarely lets herself be. “Just... enjoying the show” She says, her gaze flicking back to Yelena, who is now holding up a pair of horrible light-up slippers you found at a charity shop.

When Natasha finally opens her gifts, it’s much slower, deliberate. You’re nervous, even though you know she’ll never let you see it if she doesn’t like something. But the small things you picked—a leather journal, a new cream scarf, a rare first edition of a spy novel she once mentioned—earn a quiet “thank you,” each one accompanied by that little smile. It’s the last gift, though, that gets you. It’s a snow globe. Inside, there’s a tiny replica of a mountain standing tall in the heart of Russia, the one Natasha had mentioned missing when she told you about her childhood. The one she only saw once and yet managed to comfort her throughout her life. Her fingers tighten around it, and for a moment, her expression shifts—just enough for you to catch it. Sadness, maybe, or longing.

She doesn’t say much after that. But when you look at her later, as Yelena’s dancing around in her ridiculous slippers and yelling about how she’s making everyone waffles tomorrow morning, Natasha’s looking at you like maybe you’re the best gift she’s ever gotten. And maybe she wouldn’t mind Christmas each year if you were around.

Later that night, you find her in the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she swore she didn’t want. The two of you stand there in the soft glow of the tree lights, listening to Yelena snore on the couch. “I don’t really get Christmas.” She admits softly, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fake fireplace video Yelena left running on the TV. “But… I think this year was nice.” And when she looks at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips, you know she means it.

Without thinking, you step closer, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face. “It’s more than nice. I’m so happy.”

And that’s when you hear it—a distant jingle. You glance up, realising Natasha’s holding a tiny branch of mistletoe above your heads, her expression smug but her cheeks just the faintest flush of pink. “Well, would you look at that…” You murmur, before giggling at her antics. She leans in slowly, her breath warm against your skin. The kiss starts soft, hesitant, like she’s testing the waters. But when you cradle her face in your hands, she melts into it, kissing you deeper, with a tenderness that leaves you breathless.

And when you finally pull back, her forehead resting against yours, she exhales a quiet laugh. “Okay,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, “maybe Christmas isn’t that bad.”

From the living room, Yelena’s snore breaks the silence—loud and obnoxious. Natasha groans, but you can see the affection in her expression when she shakes her head. “Don’t tell her I said that.” She adds, smirking. And just like that, the moment is gone, replaced by the familiar warmth of Natasha’s dry humor.

But later, when you catch her adding an extra blanket over Yelena on the couch, you realise that maybe, Natasha likes Christmas more than she’d like to admit. And maybe this Christmas might bring more than just holiday cheer.

[skzdelf]

Strings and Storms | Han Jisung

⭑ PAIRING: Han Jisung x reader

⭑ SYNOPSIS: Han Jisung, is a renowned rapper, songwriter, and composer the world admires. He works tirelessly into unimaginable hours, always striving to give his absolute best but he never seems to know when to stop and give his body the rest it deserves.

WORDCOUNT: 0,9k (963)

A/N: divider is not mine!!

A loud thunderstorm woke you up from your sleep. The entire room was bathed in shadows, except for the fleeting moments when the lightning illuminated the vast sky, casting brief flashes of light into the room before being replaced by the deep rumble of thunder.

You turned in bed, reaching out to face your boyfriend, Han Jisung, hoping to fall asleep in his warm embrace. But your hand only met the cold, untouched side of the bed. He had never joined you in the room.

Grabbing your phone from the tangled sheets, you checked the time: 4:22 a.m.

You got out of bed, pulling on one of Jisung’s oversized hoodies to keep yourself warm from the chill brought on by the rain. Making your way down the hallway toward the kitchen, you already knew where he’d be—still in his studio, lost in his music, either composing or perfecting new sounds for his group’s next comeback.

You decided to prepare him a warm drink first, something to soothe his overworked body and mind. In the kitchen, you made him one of his favorite teas, lavender with two teaspoons of sugar, carefully pouring it into his SKZOO mug.

As you walked through the dimly lit hallway, the soft glow spilling from the slightly ajar door of Jisung’s studio guided your steps.

Inside, you found him hunched over his desk, one hand buried in his already messy black hair and the other clutching a pencil as he scribbled furiously onto scattered sheets of paper. Many of them were crumpled or violently crossed out.

“Hanji?” you called out softly, stepping into the room with the steaming cup of tea in your hands.

Jisung glanced up from his notes, his lips curling into a tired smile as his weary eyes blinked slowly.

“Hi, my love,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“You haven’t slept at all, have you?” you asked, placing the mug carefully on the least cluttered spot on his desk. You moved closer, your fingers instinctively reaching for his hair, smoothing it gently.

He shook his head, leaning into your touch with his eyes closed, clearly craving even a moment of comfort.

Your gaze dropped to his hands resting on his lap. The tips of his fingers were red and raw, some of them showing faint traces of dried blood.

“Ji, I told you to be more careful with your fingers when playing the guitar,” you murmured softly, reaching out to take his hands. But he quickly pulled them away, hiding them from view.

“Let me see them, please,” you insisted gently, leaning closer. But he shook his head again, a weak smile playing on his lips as his eyes avoided yours.

“It’s nothing, really,” he whispered, though the crack in his voice betrayed him.

You cupped his cheek with your hand, tilting his face toward yours. “Ji, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to bear all of this alone?”

For a moment, the room fell silent. You could feel his breath grow heavier as though he was fighting an internal battle. Slowly, he lowered his hands, letting you take them into yours. The scars and marks left by hours of playing were evident, etched into his skin.

“You don’t get it,” he finally murmured, his voice breaking. “It’s not just for me… I do this for them—for the fans who believe in me. They expect the best. I can’t afford to let them down.”

“The fans wouldn’t be happy to see you hurting yourself like this,” you replied softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his hair. “Let me take care of your wounds, okay?”

“It’s not necessary,” Jisung rasped, shaking his head, though his resistance was weak.

Ignoring him, you left to grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom. When you returned, Jisung had already cleared a small space on his desk for you. He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a mix of exhaustion and affection.

“I’ll be quick,” you assured him as you sat down, taking one of his hands gently in yours. The other rested on your lap. His fingers, covered in faint scars and cuts from the guitar strings, trembled slightly under your touch.

“This doesn’t even hurt,” he tried to joke, though his voice lacked energy.

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take care of it,” you replied firmly, dabbing at his wounds with a damp cotton pad. His fingers flinched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

The silence that followed was calm, broken only by the soft rustle of the cotton and his deepening breaths. When you looked up, you found him watching you, his expression a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken.

“You always worry too much,” he murmured, his voice laced with drowsiness.

“Because you don’t worry enough,” you countered softly, finishing the last bandage.

As you set the first-aid kit aside, you noticed his eyes beginning to close, his head dipping forward slightly.

“Jisung…” you whispered, cupping his cheek with your hand. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He opened his eyes just enough to meet yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Only if you come with me.”

“Always,” you promised, helping him to his feet. He leaned on you slightly as you guided him back to the bedroom.

As soon as he lay down, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His bandaged fingers rested gently against your skin, a quiet reminder of the love and care that filled the space between you.

With a deep sigh, he drifted off to sleep, and not long after, you joined him, the sound of the storm outside fading into a peaceful silence.

[sosa2imagines]

I swear this is the last idea, don’t mind me😭

If it’s okay, can I please request a Lloyd x fem!reader where he happens to find an abducted woman when he barges into a warehouse to take out an enemy and takes her back home with him. He is really gentle with her and helps take care of her and helps treat her wounds and helps her feel safe for the first time in a while and spoils her. He has no plans of ever letting her go, not that she even wants to leave herself (she is perfectly content staying with and being taken care of by Lloyd forever). Also she def jumped into his arms after he told her he offed the man who had kidnapped her in the first place

Girlie just wants to be held😭

Hey dear, I hope you enjoy this. Lloyd is my most favorite.

Warning- Angst, kidnapped, hostage situation, fluff.

The air is stale, rank with the scent of sweat and grime. Moonlight streams in through a crack in the ceiling, bathing the space in a pale, silver glow. The only other source of light comes from a bulb dangling from an exposed wire, casting wavering shadows on the warped floorboards.

Shifting your raw, chafed wrists slightly, you peer out into the darkness beyond your small corner. Every creak of the old building sets your nerves on edge, your breath catching in your throat with each sound. Who's out there? Allies? Enemies?

You grimace as your cramped muscles spasm, pain rippling through your exhausted body. Every inch of you is bruised or scraped, a tapestry of purples and blues painted across your skin. But it’s not just the physicality that’s tormenting you. It's the helplessness, the uncertainty, the knowledge that you’re at the mercy of others with no hope of escape.

You just want this nightmare to end.

You jerk back as the warehouse door abruptly slams open, the metallic thunk like a thunderclap in the silence. A brief volley of gunfire follows, crisp, sharp detonations that send a shudder through you. Then, silence. The heavy footfalls echo across the floorboards, getting louder with each step until a towering shadow falls across you.

Your eyes widen as he crouches down, your vision blurred by tears. He towers over you, muscular and broad shouldered, his polo shirt stained with smears of blood. But it’s his eyes that draw your attention, those blue depths holding a strange lack of malice.

“Hey there, sugar.” His voice is soft, a low and warm. He gives a small, reassuring smile, the first hint of warmth you’ve seen in days. “I’m not here to hurt ya.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the hint of gentleness in his voice. The man, obviously capable of violence, evidenced by the bodies you’re certain lie behind him, holds out his hand, palm up in a non-threatening gesture. His gaze falls to your wrists, the skin raw and angry from the ropes. A flicker of concern passes across his face, he reaches out and gently wipes away the tear streaks on your cheeks.

“Let’s get you out of here.” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if his volume might break you.

You don't even consider resisting as he picks you up, holding you with a gentle strength that surprises you, his arms warm and strong. The heat of his chest presses through the thin fabric of his shirt, and for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of security in his presence. You collapse into his chest, letting yourself be enveloped by his warmth. 

Lloyd's home is the very epitome of luxury, you’ve only seen in magazines, filled with expensive furniture, expansive windows, and the clean, sharp scent of leather and cedar that dominates the space. He's surprisingly careful with you, gently setting you down on the cushiony sofa before disappearing into another room and returning with a first-aid kit.

“You’re safe now.” he reassures you with a soft, sincere smile. His voice is gentle, his tone earnest as he kneels beside you. “No one’s going to hurt you again.” He lifts the first-aid kit, his movements slow and deliberate as he begins to tend to your wrists, cleaning the raw skin with a touch that’s infinitely more tender than expected.

His touch is precise and patient as he works, his hands gentle and skilled. When you flinch at the pain, he halts, the deep cerulean of his eyes lifting to yours in question. “Too rough?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.

You shake your head, a small sigh passing your lips. “No…It’s alright. Thank you.”

He nods, continuing his work in silence. Once he’s finished, he tosses the used bandages aside and grabs a blanket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Hungry? Thirsty?” he asks, already heading toward the kitchen. “You look like you could use something warm.”

A small laugh escapes from you, as Lloyd begins to bark orders at his men.

Over the next few hours, you unburden yourself, telling him everything, the night at the club, the man who refused to take no for an answer, the terror of the days that followed.

Lloyd listens intently, his jaw clenching tight as the tale unfolds, the muscles in his hands tensing into fists. When you finally finish, he leans back in his chair, his expression chillingly calm, his eyes hard and determined.

“He’s dead!” Lloyd asserts, his voice cold and utterly certain. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” His gaze is steady, his eyes locking onto yours, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

“Thank you,” you whisper, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“Shh…” he murmurs, his hand soothingly rubbing your back. “You don’t have to thank me, sugar. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that bastard get away with it.”

Over the days that follow, Lloyd makes it his mission to take care of you. He spoils you in ways you've never experienced before: your favorite meals, soft, fitted clothes, and an endless stream of affection that leaves you utterly breathless.

He’s constantly there, a watchful presence, his protective nature a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

You feel yourself starting to relax, the fear that once gripped you evaporating slowly. You can’t imagine leaving, can’t fathom returning to the life you once had before Lloyd.  He’s become your safe haven, your protector, your security and strength. But most importantly your heart belongs to him now.

And Lloyd? He's got no intention of letting you leave his side, his protective nature only growing stronger with every passing moment. The thought of you returning to your previous life is completely and utterly unacceptable to him. Just like you, his heart if he ever considers having one, now belonged to you.

“I’m keeping you, sugar,” he tells you one night, his hand tenderly brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re mine now.”

You smile, leaning into his touch, a quiet sense of peace settling over you. “Good,” you murmur, your voice warm and content. “Because I don't want to be anywhere else.”

As time goes by, your bond with Lloyd only deepens. The fear and anxiety of your past life are distant memories, replaced by the safety and security he’s provided. His presence in your life is a constant, his protectiveness unwavering, his affection unquestionable.

Every night, as he holds you close to his chest, he repeats the same words, “You’re mine. Forever.”

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@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[theskit]

Stickers AU

Important!!!

Direct linking gets rid of the readmore cuts!

If you came here via direct link, or wish to use the direct links to another part of the story, and DO NOT want to spoil the surprise stickers, please click on my blog name to go to the actual post after using the link.

Part 7

《Prev Next》

Sitting on the hotel roof as he tried to calm down from the high-speed flight away from Batman, Danny looked over his ill-gotten gains.

Ooh, candy! Why did Batman have candy? Did he have a problem with his blood sugar? Shrugging, Danny popped a sucker into his mouth. What else did he get?

Fiddling with one piece of a thin stack of black metal, he managed to click a concealed switch that caused the sides to expand from an unobtrusive oval to razor-sharp, wing shaped edges. Ow!

Shaking the sting from his left hand, Danny inspected the thin, shallow slice on his finger before holding it to the edge of his hoodie to keep his blood off things until he got back to the room for a band-aid.

Getting the now obviously a batarang to collapse back down, Danny beamed. Score! He'd gotten four of the things, one each for himself, Ellie, Sam, and Tucker. He didn't think Jazz would mind not getting a vigilante throwing weapon as a souvenir. She usually used the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick or the Boo-Staff, having been mostly banned from long-range weaponry on account of her inheriting Dad's aim...

Shuddering, Danny banished the memories accompanied by that thought in favor of the last item. Looking it over, it seemed like an airpod? Did he grab one half of Batman's headpho-... Oh, Ancients that was a communicator! Could they track it? Who was he kidding, of *course* they could track it!

Freaking out juuuust a little, Danny stuffed everything else into his pockets, grabbed the comm unit, and high tailed it, phasing through walls and floors in his hurry to get back to the room.

Once there he dove for his luggage, pulling out the Thermos he'd brought along just in case, and dumped the ear piece in before locking it down.

There. Heaving a sigh of relief, Danny slumped down against the side of the bed he'd claimed when they first checked in. The ecto-shielding on the Thermos should block any incoming or outgoing signals until he could get Tucker to look at it and make sure no one could trace the comm back to him.

Wincing against the light as the bedside lamp on the other side of the room flared to life, he saw Jazz squinting at him fuzzily, one hand on the Anti-Creep Stick propped up on wall beside the bed. "Danny? Izzat you?"

"Yeah, Jazz, it's just me. I just got back, sorry for waking you. I'm gunna wash up and head to bed. You can go back to sleep." Danny felt bad that he'd woken Jazz up after she'd had a long day helping set up the Fenton convention booth and gently riding herd on their parents' over enthusiastic responses to the other 'ghost hunters'.

"Okay Danny, glad you're back safe. Night," Jazz mumbled as she turned out the light and laid back down. Danny smiled at her softly before turning to gather his things. It had been a good night, if more eventful than he had planned when he first went out exploring.

Batman had traced the comm unit's signal to one of the larger, more popular hotels in the area before the strangely fluctuating signal had cut out entirely.

Inspecting the roof, he caught sight of a dim glow. Kneeling down, he collected what looked to be a few drops of fresh blood with a swab kit. It appeared that whoever had taken his gear had rested here for a bit before leaving again, possibly to check what all they had taken, then finding and disabling the comm unit. He hoped they hadn't injured themselves too badly, probably on the batarangs, if it was indeed their blood he'd found.

The dimly glowing sticker, still on its backing paper with a drop of blood on the corner, caught half under an air conditioning unit, pointed to it being the same person. Picking it up, Batman inspected it for a moment before dropping it into a separate evidence bag. He'd put both samples through analysis back at the cave.

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort @bjurnberg @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @bianca-hooks123 @addie-lover-of-stories @pickleking8 @iconicanemone @sarina-elais @mur-ururu @sailor-goddess @dragonfirefeather @nutcase8691 @ravenpainter

[huellitaa]

bee's 2024 favourites 🎀

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 music!

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ singers & bands

tomorrow x together

avril lavigne

pinkpantheress

chappell roan

millionares

pierce the veil

nirvana

girls generation

amy winehouse

megan thee stallion

tommy february6

gwen stefani

kali uchis

charli xcx

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ albums

strawberry cream soda pop daydream, tommy february6

bling bling bling, millionares

the best damn thing, avril lavigne

tomorrow, tomorrow x together

eternal sunshine, ariana grande

boa, megan thee stallion

nevermind, nirvana

a brief inquiry into online relationships, the 1975

brat, charli xcx

big juicy, ayesha erotica

bleach, nirvana

sanctuary, tomorrow x together

⭐️𓂃 ࣪˖ songs

candyman, christina aguilera

lonely boy, tomorrow x together

eternal sunshine, ariana grande

cherry, lana del rey

beaches, beabadoobee

worthy, megan thee stallion

lottery, kali uchis

hands up!, 6arelyhuman

good luck, babe!, chappell roan

tinnitus, tomorrow x together

supernatural, ariana grande

obsessed, mariah carey

lucky girl syndrome, illit

its not living if its not with you, the 1975

ordinary things, ariana grande

cool, gwen stefani

i like money, millionares

tears dry on their own, amy winehouse

its a wrap, mariah carey

bet u wanna, sabrina carpenter

love, lana del rey

imperfect for you, ariana grande

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 beauty!

🍭𓂃 ࣪˖ bodycare

imperial leather, mallow and rose body wash (🎀🗒 note: one of my signatures!! ♡)

garnier rice water & starch hair mask ♡

barrym pink grapefruit lip scrub

beauty of joseon glow serum ♡

skinny dip london creamy vanilla sugar body scrub ♡ (🎀🗒 note: one of my signatures!! ♡)

💬𓂃 ࣪˖ makeup

no.7 shimmer face palette (highlighter, blush, etc.)

MUA metamorphosis lip & cheek oil (og extra) (🎀🗒 note: one of my signatures!! ♡)

maybelline new york, the colossal (mascara)

barrym "thats swell!" lip plumper

rimmel london sculpting palette (002 coral) (🎀🗒 note: one of my signatures!! ♡)

rimmel london maxi blush ♡

charlotte tilbury collagen lip bath kit

charlotte tilbury pillow talk lip lustre (🎀🗒 note: my autumn / winter signature ♡)

⭐️𓂃 ࣪˖ scents

miss dior, blooming bouquet ♡

sweet tooth, sabrina carpenter

jimmy choo, rose passion (🎀🗒 note: one of my signatures! ♡)

victoria's secret, bare vanilla (🎀🗒 note: my autumn / winter signature ♡)

avon, far away ♡ (🎀🗒 note: my summer signature ♡)

so, strawberry frappe (🎀🗒 note: my summer signature ♡)

so, flower bloom (🎀🗒 note: my spring signature ♡)

👛𓂃 ࣪˖ clothing

leg warmers ♡

low cut long sleeves

long coats ♡

subtle lace and frill accents ♡

tiered skirts

glitzy belts

dangly earrings

beaded jewelry

lots of accessories! ♡

long scarves (🎀🗒 note: my winter /autumn signature ♡)

hairclips hairclips hairclips ♡

flared, low waisted jeans

plaid halter tops (🎀🗒 note: my summer signature ♡)

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 entertainment!

🍬𓂃 ࣪˖ tv shows and series

my little pony!!!!!!!!♡

rick and morty

strawberry shortcake

gilmore girls♡

monster high

inside job♡

true beauty

kimi ni todoke

gossip girl

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ movies

princess diaries

legally blonde♡

kiki's delivery service

arrietty♡

princess and the frog♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ video games

the witcher 3♡

kirby's return to dreamland♡

animal crossing: new horizons

infinity nikki♡

sky: children of the light

wuthering waves

legend of zelda, tears of the kingdom

honkai star rail♡

genshin impact

project sekai♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 misc.!

🍮𓂃 ࣪˖ favourite trinkets

my melody tea party series figure blind box ♡

all the little sanrio trinkets i got from my advent calendar!

sylvanian family baking baby party series blind bag ♡

lalaloopsy sew magical! sew cute! pink button doll

lalaloopsy minis limited edition golden princess figure (🎀🗒 note: i dont remember the series name😭)

my melody afternoon tea series figure blind box ♡

funko pop! my melody lolita limited edition figurine ♡

lalaloopsy sew magical! sew cute! pink button doll mouse

🐧𓂃 ࣪˖ favourite plushies

👛𓂃 ࣪˖ favourite cds

the best damn thing avril lavigne cd ♡

live through this 1994 hole cd ♡

formula of love twice cd

tomorrow ethereal txt cd ♡

this is how tomorrow moves bea cd

norman fucking rockwell lana del rey cd

all my love, and happy new year! 🎆🎀🫶🏻💗

[acronym-chaos]

Soft and Cutesy ID Pack

[PT: Soft and Cutesy ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Amabel, Anya, Arlo, Beau, Benny, Bibi, Bijou, Bunny, Calla, Charlie, Cherry, Coco, Cotton, Daisy, Dashiell, Delilah, Dolly, Eddy, Ellie, Fawn, Felix, Finn, Florrie, Gabriel, Gigi, Honey, Isla, Jamie, Jasper, Jules, Juno, Kiki, Kit, Lark, Leo, Louie, Lulu, Mabel, Marsh, Micah, Milo, Mimi, Nilla, Noah, Ollie, Peach, Poppy, Remy, Riley, Rosie, Sammy, Snowy, Sofie, Sprig, Sugar, Sunny, Tessa, Theo, Tilly, Toby, Wesley, Will, Winnie, Wren

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Cud / Cuddle / Cuddles, Flu / Fluff / Fluffeir, Gi / Gig / Giggle, Hu / Hug / Hugs, Lo / Lov / Love, Ma / Marsh / Marshs [Marshmallow], Plush / Plushie / Plushies, Pur / Purr / Purrs, Smi / Smil / Smiles, Snug / Snuggle / Snuggles, So / Sof / Soft, Su / Sug / Sugar, Swee / Sweet / Sweets, Twi / Twink / Twinkle, Whim / Whimsy / Whimsicals

Titles

[PT: Titles].

A Dream Made of Softness, The Cherished One, The Cozy Dream, The Fluffy Wonder, The Gentle Glow, The Hug Collector, The One Wrapped in Ribbons, The Snuggly Star, The Sweet Embrace, The Warm Hug, [Pronoun] Who Brings Comfort, [Pronoun] Who Brings Sunshine to Storms, [Pronoun] Whose Love Feels Like Home, [Pronoun] With Tender Heart

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, End ID].

Requested by anon!

Also tagging: @id-pack-archive

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Life Could Be A Dream

Franchise: Star Wars (but modern AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, modern!AU, implied smut (scratch marks on Poe’s back, hickeys, mentions of nudity if you squint), fluff, established relationship, mentions of Poe being an F1 driver, no plot really just a sweet morning with Poe, did I mention fluff?

Summary: Poe always gets cuddly after a race; the more intense the race, the more he wants to be glued to your side. Yesterday's race was pretty crazy, but you’re not complaining.

A/N: This is ridiculously self indulgent, especially with the breakfast foods (I am a slut for a good serving of pancakes) also the inspiration and the song mentioned is Sh-Boom (Life Could Be A Dream) by The Sh-Booms, highly recommend listening while reading; for some reason I imagine Poe being a Formula One racer in a modern AU so voila

You blink your tired eyes open with the sun peering through the curtains of the hotel room. It’s warm and welcome on your skin. A lazy smile drifts over your face. You stretch a little before curling up under the thick blanket again; it’s smooth against your bare skin, perfect for a morning like this.

You slowly roll onto your side, turning your back to the window. Your eyes land on your boyfriend’s sleeping form. Poe is snoring softly, his dark curls tousled and unkempt. He looks so peaceful. His broad back glows in the morning light, the duvet haphazardly covering the lower half of his body. There are faint red marks near his shoulders, reminders of last night. Even after the longest, most intense races, he still has some… pent up energy.

Careful not to wake him, you lean forward and press a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. You then silently slip out of the bed, tugging on a clean pair of boxers. You’re grateful for the carpeting under your bare feet until you reach the cold tile of the bathroom. You brush your teeth, considering you can taste how bad your morning breath is, but you don’t bother fixing your messy hair. You wash your face with cold water to wake yourself up a little more, padding it dry with a facecloth. You look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes sliding over the hickeys on your neck and chest from Poe last night. Your fingers ghost over them.

After leaving the bathroom, you grab a shirt from last night. It’s either yours or Poe’s. You’re not sure, but you don’t really care all that much - it’s a shirt either way.

You wander to the kitchen, thankful the two of you had booked at an extended stay hotel; full kitchen with a big fridge, living space separate from the bed area; lots of space for you and him to stay for a while. You dig through the fridge in search of ingredients for breakfast. The two of you went out for groceries a couple days before his big race in Melbourne, so you had everything you needed to make a filling breakfast; Poe’s always hungry after a night like last night. You are too, quite frankly. You grab bacon, eggs and milk and put them on the counter, lightly kicking the fridge closed behind you. From the cabinets behind you, you collect salt, baking powder, white sugar, and a small bag of flour.

As much as you don’t like packing heavy when you travel for Poe’s races, you’ve brought it upon yourself to have some essentials so you aren’t eating out all the time. After the first few races, you pretty much put together a travel kit of cooking/baking supplies and other things you guys would usually have at home.

You grab a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon and begin mixing the dry ingredients together. You snag a normal bowl from the cupboard to mix the wet ingredients with a whisk. You then combine them together and leave it on the counter with a dishcloth over it, letting it rise. From the cabinets underneath the counter, you grab two pans; one for the pancakes when they’re ready and one for the bacon. As you set the pan on the stove to heat up, you hear shuffling from the bedroom area; Poe’s awake.

The pan warms quickly and you start laying bacon on it to fry. The sizzling meets your ears just as Poe appears out of the corner of his eye. You focus mostly on the bacon, but you can sense his presence. His arm snakes around your waist and he pulls your back against his warm, bare chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you say with a smile.

Poe hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Morning, baby.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log, but last night was amazing…” He nibbles on your neck a little, tightening his grip around you. You chuckle, bringing your hand down to squeeze his. “Bacon?” Poe inquires, changing the subject and looking down at the pan in front of you. His chin rests on your shoulder, leaning his head against yours.

“And pancakes,” you add, gesturing lazily to the mixing bowl.

“Mmm, I love your breakfasts.”

“You love all my cooking. And baking, for that matter.”

“Because you, mi amor, are an absolute god in the kitchen.”

“You flatter me, darling.” You reach for the tongs to flip the bacon strips. “I’m assuming you’re hungry. You’re always hungry.”

“For your food, always.”

“Flirt.”

“I’m just speaking the truth here.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Want help?”

“I love you, but you can just sit there and look pretty for now.” You turn your head to fully kiss him. “I wanna cook for you.”

“You always cook for me.”

“Yeah, because, no offence, but you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’m a Formula One driver, not a chef.”

“I’m not even technically a chef.”

“You might as well be,” Poe replies, untangling himself from you. “You are probably one of the best cooks I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. And eating with. And, you know, everything else.” He kisses the back of your neck before stepping away to sit at the island, watching you fondly. “You sure you don’t want help?”

“Well, how about you set out the fruit from the fridge?”

“That I can do.”

As you get a plate out for the bacon, as well as a couple pieces of paper towel to catch the leftover grease, while Poe goes to the fridge. You feel Poe’s finger drag down your spine, sending a shiver through your body.

“Tease,” you murmur, looking at him over your shoulder. He smirks at you, blowing a kiss to you. “You wanna put some music on?”

“Absolutely.”

You transfer the cooked bacon onto the plate, then put more bacon on the pan. Poe shuffles around behind you, connecting his phone to the speaker.

Life could be a dream, life could be a dream

Do, do, do, do, sh-boom

A smile crosses your face with you hear the song and you turn to look at Poe. He puts his phone down on the counter. You both begin to murmur the lyrics under your breath.

“Life could be a dream. If I could take you up in paradise up above. If you would tell me I’m the only one that you love, life could be a dream, sweetheart, hello, hello again, sh-boom, and hopin’ we’ll meet again…”

“You look so good in my shirt,” he murmurs, coming up behind you again. He kisses your cheek, resting his hand on your hip. “I ever tell you that?”

“You’ve mentioned…” you reply, relaxing under his touch.

“I love when you travel with me,” Poe says. “Thank you for coming.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, my love.”

Poe gently takes your chin in his hand to turn your head towards him. He presses a deep kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, he has a piece of bacon in his hand.

“Impatient?” You tease.

“It’s bacon. I’m hungry.”

You laugh when he takes a bite and his face lights up. “You’re cute,” you remark. His face goes red and he dips his head.

“Shut up.”

“No.” You tilt his chin up with your finger, pressing your lips to his. “You’re downright adorable, Poe Dameron.”

“You’re relentless.”

“You love me.”

“I adore you.”

You smirk. “I know.”

Some mornings, the two of you have to rush around, packing for another plane or prepping for another race, but not today. Poe’s got a free day, and he intends to spend every minute of it with you. Even if it’s just swaying in the kitchen, teasing each other. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

A/N: I just wanted a soft morning with Poe and the song had me in a fluffy mood so I hope y'all enjoy this because I know I did! Feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day y'all <3

[trans-librarian]

Good Mornings and Model Kits

Tags: M/M, Fluff, Domestic, Established relationship, Team Fortress 2, Medic, Engineer, EngieMedic, Science Party, German Engineering

WC: 1.5k

CW: None this is the fluffiest most self indulgent garbage I have ever written. We die like mercs choking on the sugar of this fluff. You could consider a line or two hinting at suggestive buuuuut it's nothing explicit

Translations:

Mein Leibe - My love

mein bärchen - My teddy bear

A/N: Sooooooo I always promised myself that I wouldn't start writing fanfic because like idk I told myself that it would be cringey to write fanfic and that anything I wrote would suck but to be cringe is to be free and this image was too strong in my brain not to write and gods I gotta let myself be and create what I want instead of what I think is good enough.

I was super inspired by @creedei and his engiemedic art. I was low-key inspired by these posts: (I also love popitdontdropit on AO3 they're transmasc engie fanfic will make you ascend to a higher plane)

https://www.tumblr.com/creedei/727483531127914496/sketch-dump (third image)

https://www.tumblr.com/creedei/721589317420695552/cute-aggression

https://archiveofourown.org/users/popitdontdropit/

Also its not noted in the fic or relevant but my engie is transmasc I need everyone to know because its my favorite hc. I fell in love with creedei's engie. He's mad gender euphoria for me as a transmasc guy with the same body type (also because i simp hard for medic so seeing the character I project onto with the character I like is just *chefs kiss*). And pyro who is mentioned in passing uses they/she pronouns because I like when this shit is as queer as possible and I get to choose what happens in this story.

I'll probably also cross post this on AO3 at some point and link it here. Anyway, Enjoy!!! *runs and hides*

A quiet dawn begins to trickle light into the Red barracks. All is quiet on a seldom day off for the Red Team. Medic drinks in this treasured time. With a cup of tea in hand he turned towards the infirmary where the notes from his most recent experiment await review. He definitely needs to reevaluate the actual size of a gorilla liver before putting it into Demoman again. The muffled sounds of snores creates a lulling tune that echoes in the halls until...

tink tink tink clunk

tink tink tink clunk

"Hm?" Medic's ears perked up to the quiet sound

click click

tink tink tink

"Vhat is zhat?" Medic turns to follow the sound.

A tiny symphony of clicks and clacks emanates from deep in the halls past the common area and the majority of the bedrooms. Medic follows the sound through the hall.

tink tink tink clunk

tink tink tink tink clunk

tink tink clunk

Medic finds himself at the Engineer's workshop.

"He never usually vakes up zhis early on a day off at least not vithout vaking me for some.....private time" Medic smirks to himself thinking of Engie and his previous day off exploits in Engie's room, Medic's room, the infirmary operating table, the shower... Medic gets lost for a moment in a glow of those steamy memories and shakes his head bringing him back to reality. "Vonder vhat he's doing?" Medic thinks and slowly opens the door and sneaks into Dell's workshop.

Dell's back is facing the door as he sits at his desk. The small bulbed lamp on his work desk illuminates a halo of light around the man. The soft sweater he's wearing adds a comforting warmth to the glow. An etheral god tinkering with his realm. Like a moth to a flame, the medic slowly crossed the room beelining to the one place where he slots in perfectly. Once within reach, Medic wraps his arms around Engie leaning his head on Dell's shoulder placing a gentle kiss before resting his head.

"Good morning mein leibe" Ludwig cooed "What's got you up so earl-" tink "Ow! vhat vas zhat"

"Sorry darlin' sometimes the little bits go flyin' because of the nippers," Engie turned "Where did you get hit?"

"Why?"

"So I can kiss it better." Dell smiled.

Ludwig groaned at the horrible pickup line and smirked "I got hit right here" and points to his mouth.

"I'm very sorry" Dell chuckled. He grabbed the Medic's chin with his gunslinger with the lightest touch only he is capable of and gave him a gentle kiss. "What brings you by the workshop this early, dumplin'?"

"I was getting some tea and I heard the sound of..."

tink tink

"Ow!" another small piece of plastic hits Medic in the forehead. "...Zhat. I heard zhat and started following and it brought me here, mein bärchen. Vhat is zhis anyway?"

"Sorry again. The lil bits that come off the model kit pieces can go flying in unexpected places."

"Model kit? I didn't know you even were interested in these let alone where to find them."

"Pyro turned me on to these last time we went to town. They begged me to take her to this store with all these fancy plushies that are imported so they could get a new one for their collection. Real quality y'know. She ended takin' a while but ended up choosing this nice bear fox thing that I learned is called a tanuki and then there was this other one that was an armadillo and I was thinkin' about it but I realized I would never use-"

"Sveetie. You're rambling"

"Thank you" Engie laughs, "what would I do without you?" He places a hand on medics cheek and places a kiss on the other. "So Pyro showed me these model kits they have and they said I would love these and I grabbed a couple to keep 'em around. This is the first chance I've had to put one together."

"Interesting. Vhat's it going to be?" The Medic looks at the subject of their boyfriend's focus and sees....well a lot of pieces that will make something? Small red and black pieces of plastic twinkle under the work lamp. A large pile of injection mold sheets loom next to Engie's work area. Pieces are in various states of progress some starting to take shape like limbs.

"It's gonna be a robot. A lot of these kits are different robots couldn't tell you much because I can't read the Japanese on the box, but it'll look neat when it's done based of the pictures." Dell informed his boyfriend as Medic snuggles closer to listen to the Engineer tell him about his latest project. "This piece is gonna be one of the arms and it bends like this so you can pose it and change out the hands. And this is gonna be the leg."

"Can I stay and vatch vhile you vork?"

"Of course, moon pie!"

Ludwig pulls a stool over behind Dell so he can stay in his current position arms wrapped around the engineer sinking slightly into his plush yet muscular tummy and rest his head on his lover's strong shoulder.

The symphony of click and tinks resumed as Dell settled into a new rythmn of work. The sound of Engie and Medic quietly talking, giggling, or just enjoying the intoxicating calmness together.

Ludwig watches Dell's hands deftly click the plastic pieces together. He marvels at the precise and delicate movement of the gunslinger. The same robotic hand capable of crushing bone and tearing metal also able to pick up fragile things with ease truly is one of the greatest miracles the Medic has ever seen. He can't help and feel so much love when with Dell. He could just...

"Gah! Ludwig, did you just bite me?" Engineer cried out grabbing the side of his neck.

"I couldn't help it." Medic chuckled "You looked so perfect and it's so cozy. I had to bite."

"You're lucky I love you, moon pie"

"I know. Love you too leibe"

Dell refocuses as a faint set of teeth marks bloom on his skin.

tink tink tink clunk

tink tink clunk

tink tink tink clunk

click click click

click click

clunk

"Leibschen you put the thing on upside down."

"Are you sure? this looks right, dumplin'."

"Look at the picture the angular part of the kidney shaped piece should be pointing towards that half frisbee piece on the big piece"

Dell picks up the instructions and squints closely at them. Ludwig reaches his hand over and turns the upside down instructions right side up.

"Oooooooh. I see what you mean"

clunk click claclunk

"Thank you, sweetie"

tink tink clunk

tink tink tink clunk

click click

"Finally finished" Engie and Medic look at the little robot model in all its completed glory. The small figurine shined in the now brighter lit room each piece sanded perfect and each sticker placed precisely. The angular crimson robot sported a long bazooka in one hand and a clenched fist on the other arm. The sleek robot stands posed with one fist raised triumphantly.

"Let me try" Medic gently picks up the robot model and begins to fiddle with it. He pops out the gun hand and puts in a fist. He bends one leg while straightening the other completely. The arms are folded in front of it. After, carefully balancing the model on the table. Medic reveals the robot in a Katosky Kick. Dell and Ludwig chuckle looking at the cutely posed robot. They look at each other. Such a nice moment together. Engie leans forward and kisses Medic lovingly.

"Thank you for spendin' time with me, darlin'." Dell cooed warmly, "havin' company really made my mornin'." He gently places a hand on Medic's cheek and strokes it with his thumb.

Medic places a hand over Engie's. "Of course, my bärchen. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my morning."

Dell and Ludwig bask in each in this moment. Engie looks at his lover and sees the passionate and ambitious doctor he always fell for and keeps falling for every day. Medic sees the strong and beautiful inventor that fought to be here in more ways than one.

"Now vhat?"

"I don't know. Wanna go make a real robot?"

"I've got the perfect spider monkey brain I've been saving for a rainy day!" Medic squealed "You get the supplies. I'll get the brain and bring it back here" Medic planted a hard kiss on Engie's temple before running off.

[the-otherspace]

I guess this is where I'm putting my speculative biology art and worldbuilding stuff at the moment. I made a little freak.

These are called "born-warriors" as part of the mole cats universe and they couldn't be more different than the mole cats.

A long time ago, a young mole cat saw what it described as "an enormous monster that could walk on its hands and eat poison", which is what he told his clan members. From then on, sightings of the beasts kept coming up, so it was time for the mole cats to adapt to a mostly subterranean lifestyle. They dug burrows and stayed well away from the trees, feeding on mushrooms and burrowing invertebrates. Children were told to stay away from the trees and from the territories these monsters roamed or else they may get eaten. The monsters can be seen in a lot of artwork, usually tall and shadowy with glowing eyes.

What the mole cat in this story saw, though, was an arboreal and equally intelligent being who must have looked massive compared to the young kit. The beings were named "born-warriors" by the mole cats because they could take down massive grazers for meat a lot more easily, given their treetop vantage point and muscular upper body.

Where did the young mole cat come up with "It eats poison", you might ask? Born-warriors enjoy a diet of mostly fruit, which is made of sugar that mole cats can't taste. While sugar can't really harm a mole cat, it certainly doesn't taste great as a chemical compound!

The unique feature of the born-warriors, besides their fused bottom jaw (compared to the split bottom jaws mole cats have), is their preferred locomotion. They walk on a pair of muscular arms while their feet, delicate and dexterous, remain off the ground. The extra joint in their legs help them fold these legs and tuck them in close to their bodies. The feet have more digits than the hands, which have pads to help their grip. Their tails are prehensile, allowing them to hang from the trees and throw hunting spears from above. When communicating over long distances, they can inflate a sack in their chest to help carry the sound - this sound is a sharp whooping cry that can be heard for miles.

The entire world I'm building here now has two clades: One with the split bottom jaw (mole cats, grazing beasts, burrowing invertebrates, and similar ground-dwelling species) and the fused bottom jaw (born-warriors, gliding animals, flying animals, and most other species that can climb trees.) What I'll do with marine life, I've yet to decide. It all depends on where the marine life originated.

I have no plans for their culture or language yet. I just really wanted to draw one of these knuckle-walking freaks while I still had a good image in my head. I need to fix up the body so that it looks like it's balancing better. The tail is an iffy detail and had been added sloppily as a last-minute idea. I may allow it to curl up and stay close to the body. Otherwise, it may weigh the body down too much in the back. I'm not sure how this kind of thing works but I'm trying!

The feet-as-hands and hands-as-feet idea came from @jayrockin and their avians, which walk on their hands and use their feet for dexterity-dependent tasks.

[fridgrave2-0]

OKAY AND YOURE GONNA JUST LEAVE ME IN A CLIFFHANGER LIKE THAT? LIKE, WTF. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? IM SO ENTRALLED

HAHA SORRY I was trying to write the most important parts before I had to go to work

so, basically calhoun saves turbo from cybugs in this moment and he glitches out from her to hide in some crack with an aid kit he found. he genuinely believes that he just caused hero's duty to be unplugged, so he stays there willing to go down with the game like he "should've done before". while he tried to heal his arm with the aid kit, but soon he realized that it won't work

he spends there whole day, scared to close his eyes because when he does, he sees the green glowing mouths. being surrounded by the cybugs was a nightmare come true. because if they are him, he would've turn into a monster again and hurt tamora. tamora, who would've seen him being eaten

tamora finds him when the arcade's closed. she reassures him that hero's duty is fine and that the player freaked out about hurting her "favorite npc" more than the fact that he reacted out of game's limits. turbo is still shocked when she brings him to felix, and he doesn't speak much when she tells her husband what happened to turbo

felix couldn't fix his arm with his hammer. direct actions from players impact the characters differently, and without his game and his codebox it was just a matter of time when he'd get damaged beyond fixing. but he's okay with it, he's smart and can figure something out. a prosthetic arm, perhaps. but calhoun and felix feel bad about this, they feel guilty, and turbo hates it. because it was his decision to be in hero's duty, he knew the risks and lived like that for 15 years in sugar rush when each and every one of the races could've been his last. he got used to the adrenaline, to the feeling of constant danger. he had his game only for seven years, not even a half of his lifetime, and accepted the fact that he may die any day. and he lived so, like every day was his last, taking everything what was given to him

he loved every moment he spent with felix and tamora, it was the best time of his life, but he couldn't just sit in his new little house during daytime, waiting patiently for his partners while they do what they were programmed for. something that turbo took away from himself, something that he tried to replace with sugar rush, but the price of that was too high. vanellope didn't deserve any of this, turbo twins didn't deserve any of this, the characters of roadblasters didn't deserve any of this. all turbo wanted is to be a part of a game again, to be needed and not feeling so useless and helpless, but with another try he once again hurted the people he cared about

he glitched away from the niceland when he realized, that he was yelling all this at tamora and felix. they already felt guilty, he didn't want their pity as well. turbo found himself in sugar rush, and the fear of seeing vanellope or ralph was like a hold on his throat. so he moved to a place where no one would think to look

it was warm inside the mountain, wet and hard to breathe. being in this place again was strangely calming, memories of burning alive didn't feel so painful anymore. maybe that's because he went through much worse this day, he couldn't tell

he just wanted to stay alone for some time, think a little about everything, but apparently it was never meant to be. he was looking at his blurred reflection in dark brown liquid when a claw reached out for him out of the cola and tried to drag him down

turbo glitched out of this grasp only to see himself rising from the lava. a giant figure of king candy — a cybug mutant — had rise above him

[commanderbuffy]

Heart’s Canyon: Chapter *redacted* Snippet

Jade curls up in the plush chair, but despite the backlight built into her Kindle, she isn’t reading. She keeps her eyes trained just above the device. Looking into the kitchen at her girls…at her daughter and her ex. Her friend.

Kit pushes the bag of sugar across the counter that Pia is almost completely on top of, sock-clad feet just barely brushing the top of the stool.

As the sun sets, Kit is lit in a fading orange glow and the lantern flashlights illuminate Pia’s hair in a way that makes it look comically orange in those perfectly crafted braids.

Kit helps Pia level out the cup of sugar and dumps it into the mixing bowl before sliding the flour across the counter.

Jade tries not to think about the fact that it isn’t just breakfast for dinner. It might be for Pia, but not for Kit. It never was for Kit.

Kit’s dad had promised to teach Kit how to cook. It was supposed to be every Sunday, something to give Kit something to do, to keep her from going crazy antsy.

She hadn’t had friends to burn energy off with. Not in middle school. Not before they met.

But that first lesson, making pancakes had been the last. Pancakes. The only meal Kit ever learned to make. Her happiest meal. When they were together, Kit would often tell Jade that she felt closest to her dad making pancakes.

Pia lets out a loud giggle as Kit flicks a bit of flour on her face.

“It’s a critical step to pancake making,” the woman deadpans. “You gotta get a bit messy.”

Taking that as a challenge, Pia takes a large pinch of flour and flicks it back at Kit in return.

Jade tries, and fails, to control her own laugh. Across the room, Kit’s eyes dart up to meet hers, as if she’d forgotten that Jade was in the room with them. She offers Jade a soft smile. And…fuck.

[missannemakes]

More Ombré/Gradient Yarn

More yarn came today! On the one hand, it’s all very pretty. On the other hand, not all of it is what I expected.

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

Lion Brand Ice Cream - Strawberry

This is pretty much exactly what I knew I was gonna get. It is very thin. Which makes sense because it is a three weight and not a four weight. Which I’m pretty sure I knew going in. I will say, the ball band says that you use a size 8 hook with it. Interested to compare this with the premier gradient, which is also kind of thin. Note that this one does not actually call itself an ombré or gradient.

Lily Sugar and Cream Strawberry

OK, not disappointed with this one either. Again, I knew what I was getting. And it’s very pretty. What’s interesting, is that I’m pretty sure the online listing said ombré, but the actual tag on the ball band does not say ombré at all. (Just checked – – the Amazon listing does say the original hombre yarn. The ball band just says the original. So that’s interesting…)

Caron Jumbo Ombré - Blossom

This one I am disappointed. The picture on the Amazon listing was strategic, and only showed the side of the ball, BUT you can see my side picture does show the purple and the cream that are in this ball along with the pink. I just checked on the yarn inspirations website and they use the same pictures. Don’t get me wrong. The colors are pretty – although I am not a huge fan of the neon salmon pink in there. I think it’s going to look nice worked up in all the colors. but it doesn’t necessarily look like an hombre and it doesn’t necessarily look like what was advertised. Maybe it’s a case of dye lot? I did get two in the package and the other one only seems to have one chunk of purple in it and they are the same dye lot… anyway – not superduper impressed there.

Lion Brand Mandala Ombré - Pure

This one is the most disappointing! Can you guess why? It’s gorgeous it’s absolutely lovely, but there’s a whole lot more blue than pink in there! This one I think definitely is a fault of a dye lot issue, but I am allowed to feel disappointed. I also wanted to make sure I showed the picture of the side of the ball band where it has the picture of what the yarn should look like in the pattern. Notice there’s is pink blue pink while mine is blue pink blue.

Red Heart Super Saver Super Craft Kit - Gradients

At some point, I’ll take a picture of the purple and the blue yarn that came in this kit, because I think they did a better job of making a gradient with those colors. The pink colors are not bad, and for all I know they may blend really well into each other when I use them, but the two middle ones perfect pink and light raspberry seem almost identical, and then shocking pink on the dark end is really quite shockingly pink and if I had my way, there would be a couple more colors in between there. But overall they’re pretty and I like that they tell you the names of these yarns so that when you run out of the 50 g or whatever they gave you, you can go and buy a whole skein more if you want it.

Mandala Gradient

Holy neon yarn, Batman! I was not expecting it to be this bright! Seriously, this thing practically glows in the dark! It is very soft. It’s pretty standard for the kind of yarn, I guess. At some point, I’ll get a comparison between just the look of this one and the premier gradient. Still pretty sure somebody was trying to copy somebody else, but I don’t know which side is which.

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

Well, at least I have a lot to occupy me.

I’ll try to do some testing and some comparisons this coming week. I am going back  to work on Monday (assuming we don’t get buried in snow 🤞❄️) so I won’t have a ton of time, but this project does not have to be done fast.

Of the yarn on my initial list, I think I still need to get the one that’s exclusive to Michael’s and the other premier ombre one. Those will have to be maybe payday treats for me.

Out of these yarns, which one is your favorite? Which one do you think is the best ombré/gradient?

[infinite-riches]

Bright Lights & Dark Spaces

Summary: “Bad morning?” Price’s motions closely mirror those of Ghost’s from mere moments before, not phased by the Brit’s harsh attitude this morning.

“From the moment I opened my eyes…” Ghost mumbles, lifting the fabric of his mask to take a sip of his favorite blend.

Or: Ghost has a headache and Soap knows just how to help.

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count: 1297

Warnings: none :)

A/N: So I may or may not be dabbling with the idea of turning this into something more...? Thoughts?

This lovely one-shot was inspired by this prompt from a member of the CoD babygirls server, much love to them!! <3

And as always feel free to leave feedback/constructive criticism <3

AO3 Link (if you prefer): Bright Lights & Dark Spaces

The sharp ray of light slipping beneath the bottom of the blinds was enough to signal to Ghost that it would be one of those days. The otherwise silent room was only filled with a soft huff and his bare feet making contact with the cold tile floor. No need to turn any light on, the offending ray of light being more than enough to illuminate the small space in a dim yellow glow. 

Hands immediately reached for the well-used and loved pot of eyeblack, muscle memory taking over. Black cream smeared against pale skin, a familiar feeling and borderline necessary practice these days. Just for good measure, a few painkillers are tossed back, knowing today won’t be easy. 

The worn balaclava is next, pulled securely over his head, hiding pale skin and soft blonde locks. Gentle pressure from the fabric eases the discomfort slightly but it's no use against the headache already blooming behind his eyes. 

With a frustrated grumble instincts take over, clothes and gear slipping into place mechanically, as had been ingrained in him so long ago. The last movement before the door is to grab the deep red sunglasses that had become one of the most important pieces of his kit. 

Opening the door allows the offending fluorescent light to spill into his private quarters, immediately eliciting a grimace from the large Brit. The glasses slip easily over his eyes and mask making the light slightly more tolerable. 

He trudges through the halls, irritation rolling off him in waves, rookies practically jumping aside as he makes a beeline for the 141 rec room. He can’t help but be grateful when he takes note that the small, private space is empty, immediately flicking one of the light switches off so the room is half as obnoxiously bright. 

His attention is now fully focused on the well-used and abused electric kettle. With precise motions the kettle is filled and set to boil as Ghost grabs his much-loved mug from the cabinet, followed by a bag of his favorite tea and two anticipatory sugar cubes. The beeping of the kettle rings sharp before he quickly snatches the handle and fills the mug, leaving the rest of the hot water for whichever of his teammates appears later.

The door to the room is pushed open, Ghost’s head snapping to the sound, eyes locked on the hand hovering above the light switch. 

“Price… don’t,” it's a firm warning with no malice behind it, Price nodding quickly in understanding. 

“Bad morning?” Price’s motions closely mirror those of Ghost’s from mere moments before, not phased by the Brit’s harsh attitude this morning. 

“From the moment I opened my eyes…” Ghost mumbles, lifting the fabric of his mask to take a sip of his favorite blend. 

“Well the good news is that I haven’t received a call from Laswell about that intel, means you should be able to hole up in your office if need be…” the older man gives the younger a sympathetic nod, having been aware of the light sensitivity and subsequent headaches for a while now. 

“Morning boys- interruptin’ something?” Soap teasingly wagged his eyebrows at the two older men. “Should I leave? Maybe put a sock on the door?” A light laugh left his lips as he flicked the other switch on. Ghost grimaced again, grip tightening on his mug ever so slightly. 

“M’ gonna go work on those reports, Captain,” Ghost pushed himself off the counter he was leaning against, giving both Price and Soap nods before he was out the door.

-----

The day passed agonizingly slow, headache persisting no matter his efforts. Blinds closed tight, shade pulled over the glass panel on the door, nothing but the small desk lamp on to illuminate the space. He had even opted to print the reports and notate them by hand to avoid the glaring computer screen, much to no avail. The soft knock on the door shook him from his thoughts, a confused look crossing his face.

“LT?” A brief pause from the Scot. “It’s me…” A grunt from Ghost was all the signal Soap needed to quickly slip inside and shut the door. He stood, opposite from Ghost, planted on the other side of the desk.

“I uhh…” Soap sheepishly shrugged. “Brought a few things that I thought might help…” He gently set the small collection of things down on his superior’s desk, including a fresh mug of his favorite tea. “Don’t know what exactly’s goin’ on but thought some of this might be worth a shot…” 

The front of the desk was now covered in a small smattering of things Soap thought might help with his LT’s headache– painkillers, bottle of water, hot and cold compresses– it was obvious Soap had more of a hunch than he was letting on.

“Soap…” Ghost’s voice was soft as he looked expectantly to the Scot for an explanation.

“Ma sister, she had migraines when we were growin’ up… looked like you did in the rec this mornin’…” 

“And you…?” Ghost’s eyes scanned over the things Soap had brought, not ungrateful for the gesture but slightly frustrated at the sight of methods already well tested.

“Got damn good at takin’ care of her… always preferred me massagin’ her scalp though..” Soap chuckled at the memory, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks as he realized the slight overshare. Ghost however seemed more intrigued than not, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he thought.

“Guess I best be leavin’ you, know that my yappin’ might not-” Soap stopped, already having taken a step towards the door.

“Johnny…” Ghost took a slow breath, steeling his nerves, preparing to cross a line neither of them ever had before. “Would you… would you be willing to try?”

Soap looked the older man over, eyes clearly showing desperation and fatigue, sunglasses discarded long ago. “You sure, LT?”

All it took was a single nod from Ghost for Soap to be behind the man, watching as Ghost slowly lifted the mask up and off his head, blonde locks spilling out, a warm honey color in the dim light. Neither man could ignore the way their hearts fluttered, the soft intimacy of the moment overwhelming but the start of something each had dreamt about for ages. 

Soap gently slid his fingers along the top of Ghost’s head, soft curls brushing against his skin. Using small circular strokes and medium pressure the Scot worked his way across the other man’s scalp, smiling with pride as he watched the tension in Ghost’s shoulders slowly dissipate. 

A soft moan escaped Ghost, so quiet Soap almost missed it, but Ghost was immediately adjusting himself in the chair, posturing a bit to hide his embarrassment. Eventually, Ghost had all but melted into the chair, eyes shut, breathing slow and steady.

“Still alive down there, LT?” there was a light laugh to Soap’s words as he noticed Ghost stir, almost as if he had been about to fall asleep.

“I…” Ghost paused, mulling over his words for a moment, choosing to hold back what he really wanted to say. “Thank you…”

“No need to mention it, LT– you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, the least I can do to pay you back…” Soap had taken a small step to the side, eyes scanning the rare sight of his Lieutenant's bare face.

Ghost quickly reached out, hand coming to rest on Soap’s hip, eyes tracing up his form till beautiful pools of blue were staring back at him. “I can’t thank you enough, Johnny… best I’ve felt in a while…”

“Course handsome…” Soap said with a wink, leaning down to place a flirty kiss on Ghost’s cheek before he moved to the door. “Couldnae ever say no to you…”

[your-local-uwu-artist]

HELLAO how about 6, 14, 15, and 25 for the Kirby OC ask game!!! :D

🗣️: If you could cast a voice actor to voice your OC who would you choose?

tbh I havn't really been able to nail a voice-claim/hc down for Button. Though I def think he would have a more masculine-sounding voice, but with some sort of quick to it (like being raspy or squeaky) the only thing I know for sure is he needs like, a loser white guy voice.... if that makes literally any sense

also I think they have the vibe of a character whos eng and jp voices are very different but somehow both work equally very well (like calcifur and meowth, both of those have very different directions taken with their voices but both work in the same way somehow??)

ummm some potential candidates are Charlie Day, Jack McBrayer, maybe Jason Ritter? Daniel thrasher has never voice acted but he's def a candidate

for jp something similar to either Nate's pkmn masters jp voice, or like, something very raspy and mascot-character esque

14. 🍱: If your OC had a dish themed around them at the Kirby Cafe, what would it be?

hmm I'm not sure? this isn't really my area of expertise: here's some random ideas tho~

-apple pie flavored waffle? shaped like a star of course

-little button shaped sugar cookies?

-half chocolate half vanilla cupcake? to represent the angel+demon thing, combine it with the sugar cookies maybe? have two of them decorated like his eyes mayhaps?

-apparently there is a way to make drinks glow in the dark but it requires a black light so dead end :(

-mac n cheese, idk how to make it cute but it needs to be involved

-wait! idea: pretzel shaped like a lyra?

15. 🧸: If your OC had any merchandise themed around them, what would it be?

now this one is actually right in my area of expertise I love toy design

for some less simple things:

one of those little craft kits that gives you the supplies to make something simple like a felt plush sewn together with yarn, you could sew a little small star-button billow, and a little kirby plush and the aesthetic is all Button themed. Or maybe a a friendship bracelet craft kit? there's a lot of potential craft kits what with being from patch land

or maybe a merry magoland themed re-ment set that features a little Button working a booth

or you know those little keychain plushies?

dude I could design these ALL DAY

hell I've thought a lot about button merch just with what I could feasibly make happen. Button acryllic charms? Button buttons? a Button themed candy bag keychain? those keychains with the little magnet heart accesories? I could do that with Button and characters he's shipable with. standee with tail wag? glow in the dark standee and the stand part is a magic circle? button enamel pins? button ACRYLIC PINS?

25. ⭐️: If your OC got their own spinoff game what would it be about and what would the gameplay be like?

a few ideas!

-epic yarn style! the story line is Button learns about Kirby's Magic sock and decides to visit home~

-game where you sail across the sea!!! Meta Knight wants you to collect a special flower that only grows on this one island, he's too busy with meta knight stuff to get it himself. So he has sent Button on this fetch quest. i guess you could make it into a platformer, but maybe it could be like a minigame collection? that would involve things like puzzle games to figure out navigation. or upkeep/tidying around the boat. maybe there could be 'events', like finding a waddle dee lost at sea and bringing them home. or needing to fix the boats engine

-prequel game of one of Button's journey's during angst-era. platformer but with a lot of puzzle aspects implemented

-if you wanted a more epic quest with co-op modes and all maybe Button caught wind of some powerful magic source and is seeking it in hopes of restoring his Halo, and of course theres a positive message in the end where no Button doesn't get his halo back but he got his Self worth back or smth. (the true halo was the friends we made along the way I guess) would still want puzzle aspects implemented

-game where kirby and co is on vacation but danger strikes and Button, Magolor, Taranza, and Marx has to take the place of Kirby and co.

-unrelated but take a moment to imagine Merry Magoland but with Button around doing his job. Imagine a special animation of them being shocked when the player gets a high score or smth

[kits-shrine]

Soft green eyes darted around like she couldn't decide where she wanted to look as one of her hands sought out Seishin’s, and the other clung to Ginko’s yukata, “I caused everyone trouble a-again, didn't I?” Ziz panted before quietly asking if the trade worked.

Ingall gave a sigh of relief as he squeezed Kit’s shoulder.

"No more than our hot headed brother." Ginko murmured hugging her close.

His hands were occupied pressing to his aching chest. "oh sugar... why'dya care so little about yurself?" Seishin asked achingly honing in that her questions had no care for herself.

"What in Stars name happened?!" Tamashii bite out as he stopped abruptly beside them depositing Ally on her feet and quickly plucking Seishin up into his arms. His tone had none of his usual peaked interest for the unusual Soul activity around them but a no nonsense harshness as his eyes glowed and he laid a hand over Seishin's chest and continued markedly more calmly "Shhh easy... easy little brother." Kit tucked Touma's face on her shoulder using Ingall to help add an additional wall between whatever drama seemed to be going down now.