#the unbridled whimsy within me

[de-dpool]

good heavens!!

see, i love the deadpool-lovers of tumblr but some of the shit that has been said about me is UNHINGED i dare say! how are some of you worse then me??? i get off on it though, just kidding! or am i?

[sapoteylx]

people being nervous to int with their mutuals is so odd to me sometimes because im probably the least intimidating/judgemental person ever

like you could send me a random death threat and i'd be like OMGGGGG!!!!!!!! wow thank you for taking the time to message me!!!!!!!!!!!

[chocolateydinosaur]

why is it that whenever im in a ler mood i just cant stop thinking about tickling someones tummy!! like its just such a tickleable spot!!

[worldend]

i really like how everuone is using the words whimsy and whimsical now

[prototypemordred]

me n the bad bitch I pulled by being silly (it turns out I cant compare to the unbridled whimsy within her)

[hisui-dreamer]

stolen hearts

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x gn!reader

Synopsis: you were so sure, that the Riddle Rosehearts, had broken a rule

Tags: fluff, reader is a tease, bot proofread

Word count: 737

Notes: happy birthday @faera-archive! i hope you'll enjoy this riddle fluff hahaha

Masterlist

The tea party unfolded like a fairytale brought to life, with an abundance of fantastical details that filled the air with whimsy delight. A table draped in an exquisite lace cloth showcased an array of delicate porcelain teacups, their surfaces adorned with intricate floral patterns that seemed to bloom under the rays of sunlight. The gentle clinking of teaspoons and the fragrant aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the murmur of conversation, creating a symphony of elegance.

Amidst the quiet chatter of the guests and clinking teacups, you turned to Riddle with a playful glint in your eyes. With a teasing smile curving your lips, you whispered so that only he would hear, "Riddle, I believe you've committed a grave offense against the Queen's rules."

Startled by your accusation, Riddle's eyebrow arched in bewilderment. He couldn't fathom what you could be insinuating. Of all people, he’d be the last suspect on the entire campus to have breach any rule, let alone one of the Queen’s rules.

"Don't be absurd," he retorted, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and certainty. "I assure you, I would never dare to break any of the Queen's rules, especially not as the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul."

In response, your laughter tinkled like the delicate chime of a porcelain cup. "You say that, but I fear you've stolen something from me. Rule 53 states that stolen items must be replaced, you know."

Riddle's heartbeat quickened, his eyes widening with surprise and a tinge of apprehension. "I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief. "I have never stolen anything!"

With a softness in your expression, you leaned in closer, the playfulness giving way to a genuine fondnes. "Oh, but you have, Riddle. You've stolen my heart. I'm quite certain of it," you confessed, eyes sparkling with affection. "And according to the rule, you must replace it."

A flicker of panic danced in Riddle's eyes, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of crimson. He struggled to find his words, his voice barely a breathless murmur. "I... I would never... I mean," he stumbled, his voice catching in his throat. With a cough to regain his composure, he continued, his bashfulness evident. "I haven't breached the rule. In fact, I have already replaced it… with my own heart."

As the weight of Riddle's confession hung in the air, the tea party seemed to transform into a haven of hushed anticipation, enveloping the two of you in a cocoon of shared understanding. The melodious chatter of the guests faded into the background, replaced by the soft flutter of expectation that crackled between you.

Your eyes widened, surprise mingling with a newfound understanding. Riddle's gaze, usually sharp and intense, softened with a blend of shyness, hope, and apprehension.

"Your own heart... That... that means what I want it to mean, right?" you asked, your voice a gentle breath barely audible amidst the enchanting ambiance of the tea party.

Riddle's gaze met yours, his eyes revealing the depth of his emotions. They flickered with vulnerability, a silent plea for acceptance. With a slight nod, his voice emerged, a fragile whisper that carried his feelings. "Yes, it means exactly what you want it to mean. My heart is yours, and it always has been."

Emotion welled up within you, swirling like the fragrant steam rising from the teacups. Your lips curved into a wide smile, a beacon of unbridled glee. In a gesture that spoke volumes, you reached out, your hand trembling, and intertwined your fingers with Riddle's. His bashful smile mirrored your own, and as he squeezed your hand, a silent affirmation passed between you, igniting a shared journey of love and enchantment.

A playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you posed your question, teasingly challenging a newfound revelation. "Wait, does this make me the King of Hearts?" you quipped, a mischievous smile playing upon your lips as you tugged his sleeve.

Riddle's reaction was immediate, a deep flush creeping across his face, like the blossoming of a rose in full bloom. His normally composed demeanour cracked slightly under your playful words.

"You... You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?!" he scolded, his voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. Despite his protest, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you continued to tug at his sleeve, betraying the joy he found in your playful antics.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[auspicioustidings]

Taggart

Summary: Silly little festive Price x reader x Soap for @bunnyreaper

Words: 1.2k

“You're right Captain, wouldn't be professional would it?” 

Gaz snorted a laugh at that. Simon's dry tone paired with the fact that the two of them were currently very much wrapped up in one another was making Price look like he was sucking lemon slices. 

Honestly he felt bad for his Captain. Soap and you were up excitedly flipping through the karaoke book and were even more casually affectionate than usual with the alcohol flowing which in turn was clearly driving Price mad. It probably didn't help that the dive bar that you all frequented was so endearingly decorated for the season, the twinkling multicoloured lights giving everything a whimsy feel to it that so suited how you and Soap always were together.

Honestly him and Simon would lay in bed at night and gossip away about this whole thing like a pair of old dears. You, Soap and the Captain were so stupidly in love with one another and all of you were so steadfastly ignoring it. It had been funny at first, but after a year of this it was now just getting frustrating to watch. 

“Oh sod off, you two aren't the same” Price grumbled into his whiskey, eyes never leaving you and Soap.

“I mean if you want to promote me up to Lieutenant then maybe that would be true and if I really have to take a promotion to help you out I suppose I could.”

“Cheeky git.”

“Just taking the piss Captain.”

“Doesn't make him less right. If you're fine with me ruining a Sergeant for anyone else why can't you?”

“Simon you say the most romantic things.”

“I'm a regular casanova.”

Price watched as Soap handed you a microphone with a flourish after hugging you and you both stumbled to the stage, faces flush with the effects of mulled wine and excitement. Goddamnit the two of you were going to be the end of him. He had been fine (so he tells himself) when it was only his wildly inappropriate feelings for John MacTavish he had to contend with. Then a year ago he gets told about some little firestarter medic that was facing a severe disciplinary for disobeying direct orders and assaulting a superior officer. You had refused to leave a man behind and then punched your CO and really he should have known then he was going to fall ass over teakettle for you. You were so like MacTavish in so many ways, and my God did the two of you bring out the best in one another.

He had watched with unbridled pride as you earned a promotion within 6 months of working with them. Overdue really, you should have made Sergeant well before then but you had the same problem that was common with the 141; a stunning lack of respect for those who did nothing to earn it but wear a set of stripes.  

And fuck, it was an absolute joy watching Soap take you under his wing. John always knew he was meant for big things, but watching him be able to teach you made him feel like tearing up. While you teased one another and got into mischief all the time, he also saw how gentle Johnny was with you. He saw the way he looked at you when your eyes were elsewhere, so much adoration that it made his heart hurt. 

Yes, you two were practically made for one another. He was just made to sit and nurse his whisky on the sidelines, cheering you on even if it made his heart break.

–

“Ye should replace it with… uh… yer maw watches Taggart!”

“But you watch Taggart!”

“Aye because it's a pure fandabbydozy show.”

Honestly made sense to you. Well, it made sense when you had tried several of the wonderful Christmas themed cocktails. Fairytale of New York karaoke was your stunning idea, but you were trying to avoid shout singing the word faggot at the top of your lungs and thus you would instead be viciously disparaging Johnny by suggesting his mother watched a detective show. Savage really. You nodded vigorously and Johnny smooshed your cheeks.

“Yer so cute wee yin, ma wee baby bunny” he cooed.

You did try to blow a raspberry at him but the smooshing really fucked up your attempt. Oh you wished John was here too, he always sighed and bonked you both on the head when you'd get into childish little exchanges like this. You frowned, suddenly sad about being too scared to drag him up with you. 

Johnny was easy to pull into stupid things like this, but with John it felt trickier. It wasn't like rank seemed to matter much out of the field in this team, Kyle and Simon were proof enough of that, but deep down you knew that wasn't what made you nervous about it. It was that you had stupidly fallen in love with more than one man. And even worse, you were fairly sure that they were in love with one another. The thought of them pitying you for your crushes horrified you something awful, but you just could not keep yourself away from them.

“Yer sad” Johnny said, seemingly devastated by the prospect. “Dinnae be sad bonnie, cannae stand it when yer sad.”

God he really couldn't. Not that he was ever really able to say it out loud sober. Fuck he was so irrevocably in love with two of his team mates, what a place to find himself.

“OK, gonna sing out my sadness” you said, going a little overboard on the gloomy dramatics.

“Och that’s a pure sin, c’mere my wee darlin’” he replied as he wrapped you up in his arms and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe and were smacking him to let go.

Time to bury your feelings and give the best performance of your life.

–

“Jesus, they’re terrible.”

Kyle looked at Simon and Simon looked at Kyle before they both looked back at Price. He wasn’t wrong, you were God awful, but he was still staring like you and Johnny had hung the stars in the sky nonetheless. It was awfully cute. He was too distracted to even notice that there were eyes everywhere flitting between him and the stage, after all most of the regulars and all of the staff were very much involved in the betting pool on how this was eventually going to play out and maybe tonight would be the night.

They all watched with delighted anticipation as Price eventually downed his whisky just before the end of the song and stood, making a beeline for the stage. 

“Oh! Don’t remember that being part of the song” Kyle said with a choked laugh as Price very much lost all composure and thoroughly crossed rank lines.

Simon tilted his head in amusement and gave a low whistle.

“Suppose we should stop them before they commit a public indecency felony on stage.”

They didn’t have to in the end, the riotous cheering of everyone in the place distracted the three of you for long enough to realise you were very much in public. Surprising nobody, you decided to leave early and turn in for the night. It was not lost on Simon or Kyle that you all went to the same bedroom.

[narutocharacterpolls]

ROUND THREE

MAITO GAI vs UMINO IRUKA

Reasons for submission under the cut

Gai

was instrumental in the success of the story - he may not have won against Madara, but he put fear in him and had it not been for hacks, he would have decimated him where no one else could

believes whole-heartedly in his student to the point of dedicating his life to making him a splendid ninja

came from nothing, worked his way up from nothing, and is now considered to be one of the greatest shinobi to have come out of the Hidden Leaf. People know and fear him

made Itachi bail. That man was ready to fight everyone else, but packed it up when Gai came on the scene

kicked Jiraiya in the face and never properly apologized

great salesperson - always has a spare jumpsuit to give to passers-by and hook them on his favorite brand. True influencer and fashion icon

had a bowl cut before it was cool

was a great friend to Kakashi, and was there for him during the highs and lows of his horrifically stressful life. Arguably saved Kakashi's life with his constant support, and the story could not have happened without him. Is considered by Kakashi - one of the most powerful and infamous shinobi in the world - to be his equal and his best friend

loves kids. Supports his own students like he was their father, and equally takes pride in Naruto and protected Sasuke after Sasuke's first run in with Itachi

in the anime, he is shown to be hard on the outside but clearly permissive in that he would sneak Chouji food in the middle of a mission and try to push Naruto into figuring out who Minato was

confident in himself and confident in others - he is everyone's biggest cheerleader and he isn't just talk; he'll work hard with you. When he says he'll do something, nothing will stop him and he will follow his promises even when no one is watching.

hot. Man has pretty privilege

amazing, supportive teacher and friend

he is always trying to be positive in such a dark world and cheer up those around him

he's so good to Lee, Tenten, and Neji, you can just tell how much he cares about those kids

his speech to Lee was super moving. He knew Lee was scared and made sure to be there for him

he was ready and willing to die to defeat Madara in order to save the others

an actual decent upstanding father figure

unbridled whimsy

excellent tits

Iruka

he is kind-hearted and soft and has a big heart

he always has a watchful eyes over his students. But he can also be stern if needed. He knows how cruel the world can be and wants to make sure his students are properly prepared for the dangers they'll face

he doesn't have prejudices against his students. No hostility towards Naruto who was often the victim of misplaced anger due to the Nine-Tails who was sealed within him. Thus, Iruka came to be one of the only adults Naruto respected in his youth as well as the only person who could control Naruto's behaviour to some degree

due to Iruka's more nurturing, protective and compassionate nature, Naruto views him as a mentor and Iruka in turn, views Naruto as a younger brother

he treats Naruto to ramen whenever Naruto returns from a mission, where Iruka gets to see how he is developing as a ninja

his refusal to allow Naruto to graduate at first was not out of spite, but merely out of caring strictness and a desire for Naruto to work harder and reach his own potential

has a great sense of duty, honour and selflessness as seen when he protected Naruto from an attack, suffering a shuriken wound in his back in order to protect him

he regards the children of the village as the backbone of their village, even being willing to sacrifice his own life to ensure their safety

Iruka to Naruto: "Stop acting like a baby! You want to know what I really think of you?! I think you're one of my most precious students… and… you're like a little brother to me."

he is Naruto's first mentor figure. He deserves more credit and screen time!

he's the only adult with a working brain

one of the few adults who sees Naruto as a human being not a God savior

is the only one who actually apologies to Naruto for treating him badly

one of the reasons Naruto turned out the way he did

he deserves a Reise

a nice father figure

[revelisms]

please do not feel obligated at all if you’re not feeling it or don’t get to it but since you’re taking writing reqs I would adore more tamaharu from you🫶 I really loved bee’s wing! when I got into ouran and asked for tamaharu recs it was recommended to me multiple times right away haha

Aw! I continue to be flattered by the day that folks are still enjoying bee's wing 🥲 It was such a special fic for me when I wrote it, and even though it's been ages since I've written these two, I still love them to bits. Truly the top-tier bi4bi disaster couple.

That said—the fact that you've just given me an excuse to put Ouran on my dash in 2023? I am showering you with hearts. My inner child nostalgia is brimming right now.

I've been in a very holiday mood recently, so I hope you enjoy this little Christmas-themed drabble 🖤

No warnings / 1.2k words / Established relationship, goofiness, fluff

It starts softly—a low humming of voices and breaths that echoes off age-weathered stones: contralto, baritone, tenor, soprano: ebbing like a pianist's solo against a murmuration of gilded strings—and builds. It tethers Haruhi's attention before she can wrestle with it, a warm set of fingers still squeezed within her own. On the horizon, past the speckling snow, the glittering panes of a cathedral window gleams.

"Can we," she finds herself murmuring. At her side, Tamaki shifts, the ungodly red-green-blue of his patterned sweater blurred in her peripheral. "Can we go there?"

She knows when he's smiling, that faraway little crook that makes her stomach twist in knots; can see it, now, out of the corner of her eye, a haze of snowfall glistening through his fringe.

"You want to listen?" he whispers. 

Of course, he's delighted—and not doing much of a job hiding it. Dragging her out to this festival had been his own doing, after all.

He'd spent the evening prancing between their kitchenette and their living room, hellbent on convincing her to go with him, no matter how much she loathed tourist traps like these.

("Haruhi is so mean!" he'd wailed, shaking that ridiculous pamphlet from their university's event board in her face. "A true Scrooge! A cheerless fiend! Look at this, look—they have ice skating, and cookie decorating, and roasted chestnuts, and a parade, Haruhi, a full Christmas Parade—"

Into one of their couch pillows, she'd let out a dismal groan.

"And—and caroling," he'd blustered on, beaming ear-to-ear. "And a baking contest!"

"No."

"But mon chous! Mon petit nounours!"

"No."

He'd resorted to burying her full-bodiedly into the cushions, like some overgrown lapdog with no awareness of personal space. "You leave me no choice. We'll bake at home. A full extravaganza to our lonesome, since my dear Haruhi is clearly horrified to be seen with me in public—")

Needless to say: she had ended up, some hours later, in the ugliest sweater of her life, arm-in-arm with her boyfriend's giddy beanpole of a frame, trying fruitlessly to steer him away from plowing children off their feet in the ice rink.

The night had gone well enough, to be fair. Much of it, though, had come insufferably (reluctantly) at the heels of his own indulged whimsies.

At one point, she'd found him masquerading as a back-up Santa Claus after the hired performer had supposedly jumped ship for a bathroom break. It taken every willpower she had to keep her mouth shut when he'd beamed at her, plucking down his beard with a wink, as though she'd never be able to break through the disguise. It had sent the little boy standing beside him into a blubbering outrage, and himself into a panicked flurry of damage control.

Now, some hours later, the chill pinking their ears, they stand sipping their hot chocolates, hands tangled and watching the snow: a quiet, admittedly lovely moment, despite the crowds: the kind that never fails to make her look at his ridiculous clothes and windswept hair and the crinkle of unbridled joy in his eyes, and feel her heart melt, despite it all.

And the choirs are singing.

"I'm sure they have seats," he says to her, giving a light tug at their laced fingers. "Let's go see."

"But—the drinks—"

"Shh-sh-sh, a worry for another day," and he's already starting her off, his dress shoes slipping in the snow, determined nonetheless. His eyes glitter over his shoulder: a indigo prism of autumn skies, speckled with stars and moonlight. "My little bear wants to listen," he hushes, playfully stern, "we will listen."

Despite herself, a smile blooms.

The cathedral is more beautiful than she could have imagined. Grand iron-capped doors stand glossed with an evergreen so rich it shines nearly black. A pathway of tapered stone clicks beneath their shoes, resounding deeply into the cavern of a domed chapel, flanked with a wonder of gilded, candlelit-kissed glass. Nearest the dais, two choir groupings sing in tandem, tressed in robes of white. Their voices fill the air like some ancient holiness, like a folktale she'd forgotten: a mysticism that coalesces, beckons.

They're going to get scolded for not leaving tithes, for bringing liquids in here, for being visibly out of place, as she'd always felt in spaces like these—but Tamaki doesn't care. His thumb kneading gently at her knuckles, he shuffles them into a pew closer near the back, plunking down quietly amidst their cluster of other patrons.

His breath tickles her ear. "In Dulci Jubilo's one of my favorites," he whispers.

It's a gentle, powerful tune—wistful and reflective, in turns. The layers of the choir fill the hall in an cresting tide, striking a chord in Haruhi's heart that quivers.

She takes his hand between both of her own, holds it between her knees while they sit shoulder-to-shoulder. The song makes her think of the countryside in spring; like new life striving through desolation. A loneliness that feels like home, feels hurtful, feels hopeful, feels comforting. 

A loneliness that isn't so lonely, anymore.

Slowly, other movements come and go. In The Bleak Midwinter—a hymn that takes one by the hand and leads them to a pinnacle of beauty. Ave Verum Corpus—one of resolution, of rebirth, of redemption. Dormi Jesu—one that she turns to find Tamaki with the golden line of his brow gently furrowed, a lump in his throat, blinking a sheen from his eyes. 

Between her hands, his thumb fidgets. She squeezes it, carefully.

"My maman," he says quietly. "She liked this one."

Haruhi squeezes his hand tighter.

"I like it, too," she murmurs back.

For a moment, his closeness, the taste of green in his cologne, the calm that is him, in these rare enough moments, envelops her. Tears blinked free, he smiles down at her: a small lift of his lips, genuine and slightly crooked. And were they not in a church—were they anywhere at all, just the two of them to be found for miles—she may have kissed him, for long enough that she forgot anything but the hitch of his breath behind his teeth, the soft glitter of hair at his nape, the weight of his arms around her.

For now, the warmth of his palm will do.

The organ strikes up, again: a brighter shift. Tamaki leans down to nose into her temple.

"Can we make an orange garland, when we get home?" he says. His words pinch into a childish lilt. "With cinnamon sticks and cranberries?"

Haruhi fights the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she huffs out a breath, the start of a disobedient smile twitching at her mouth, and finds herself staring at the playful scrunch of his nose, close enough for her to count every freckle. 

"Fine," she sighs, poking her finger into the underside of his palm. "But just one."

Tamaki beams into a quiet giggle.

The old woman hunched in next pew finally cracks her back to shush them.

[serialgirlposter]

Oh! It's getting late.... maybe my silliness can perchance be contained for even only a single night

The unbridled whimsy within me:

[cherrytastiq]

the unbridled whimsy within me:

[bugs-r-neat]

got a new tea infuser... the unbridled whimsy within me could not refuse it (also rate my cup)

[papersnatch]

Oh good heavens, the authorities are approaching! Quick, everyone, contain your silliness!

The unbridled whimsy within me:

[worldend]

the unbridled whimsy within me:

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: First, a caption says: "Oh good heavens, the authorities are aproaching! Quick, everyone contain your silliness!" Then a gif of a cat captioned "The unbridled whimsy within me:" shows a close view of a cat repeatedly licking a camera and blepping, edited together with flash and glass cracking effects. End ID]