#toy aeroplane

[smittenroses]

— Solace in you

ask box open | commissions open | hit the tip jar | Patreon

Fandom — Identity V Pairing — Aeroplanist | Charles Holt/Anne Lester | Toy Merchant Summary — Charles isn't good at talking with others, but he's good at building forts. Content Warnings — lots of fluff, hint of comfort/comfort Word Count — 1,242 Author's note — Thank you Holt Superfans for letting me brain-dump ideas <3 Toy Aeroplane shippers rise up (ao3 link soon)

The shadows were long in the Friday evening, making everything seem more elongated than it actually was, Charles’s footsteps seeming even louder without the presence of the usual bicker and chatterings of fellow survivors that resided in the walls of this forever changing paradox. He had long since forgone the effort of attempting to count the days that passed since he found himself stuck beyond the large wooden doors that seemed to loom in their forever sense of gloom.

The blankets that he cradled in his arms, bright as the sun, cut through that gloom as he settled on his mission. Yellows and soft pinks and blues all the same, pillows rested on top of blankets as he made his way through the halls. After a while of being in the manor, you learned how to get around; don’t let the constantly twisting and turning halls overwhelm you and they’ll let you get to where you wished to go.

A left, another left, passing the Forward’s room, and then the Perfumer’s, he could hear their noises on the other side of their doors; evening is when most survivors went to their quarters to freshen up or take refuge after a long day, but yet as the plain door of the Toy Merchant came into view, he couldn’t help but feel at home. Charles had never expected to find a person that he could understand in what could be deemed hell, but the golden blonde hair of the woman and her soft blue eyes had drawn him in, captured them in her own. Soft, caring, the woman rarely spoke up for herself, but yet so much brewed behind those blue eyes that he had grown to adore, shuffling the blankets in his grip as he rapped his knuckles upon the door, the sound of something being made muffled through its wood.

“Miss Lester?” Charles called, hearing the sound of tools still as he called her name, “May I come in?”

He had learned first and foremost about the woman is that she always locked her door when she was busy thinking, noting how the keyhole on the side he stood was side ways; the locks may as well been for show given how many of the residents knew how to pick a lock, but yet it made Anne safe to do so anyway. He could see the way the knob had worn away from use, the woman inside most likely not being its first resident inside.

“Give me a second, Mr Holt.” Her voice was muffled through the door, the sound of metal clinging and clanging echoing through the hall as the Toy Merchant was most likely packing away her materials. With soft footsteps and the click of the lock, Charles watched as the door swung open to reveal the woman he wished to see most in the world. Her eyes were long with lack of sleep, her eyes duller than usual, her hair wasn’t braided and yet she shined brighter than the sun with the soft smile she gave. “Yes?”

“You… looked down today.” Charles muttered as he bounced the blankets in his arms, “It may be intrusive but…” could I come in rested heavily on his tongue, his throat constricting slightly as he came to those words. It wasn’t weird to be standing outside of a woman’s room, holding blankets and pillows and secretly a little teddy bear amongst the linen, right? It sure felt like it, feeling the way his ears warmed with the thought, his mouth and nose disappearing slightly into the linen, staring at her through his mop of curly hair.

He had rehearsed this a hundred times, why was his tongue tied in knots now? Why did his heart flutter and why was his chest feeling so tight? Maybe he was having a heart attack, he swore by it, but even if he were to drop dead right here he knew that he would only awaken back in his bed again, his body almost brand new. His mouth opened and closed again, the stubble of his chin scratching against the fabric, though as he saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards once again, he knew that he didn’t need to have any words.

“Of course you can come in, Mr Holt.” She said, stepping aside. It was then when her body wasn’t hidden behind the pile of fabric that he noticed that she wore and simple dress today, the fabric plain against her usual wear, her feet bare. He tried not to think much of it, passing into her room without much else to say, though as he looked for chairs to use he let the linen sit on her messy bed.

Reds and blues and yellows decorated her room, as marvellous as she was in her daily, though as he got to work using the two chairs that seemed to be normal in every room, he watched as Anne’s head tilted, watching him work. “It may seem silly,” he begun, tying one corner of a blanket to the bed knob at the end of her bed, the other side thrown over the back of a chair, “but when I was little, my… my mother would make us blanket forts when we were upset.” Even when he came from no money and a never full belly, his mother shone bright in his memories with the way she would use whatever they had to try and distract them from the coal towers and smog of their home.

His fingers itched at the memory, his brow creased as he focused, but yet he knew that he wouldn’t make something as close to what his mother would make at home. It would be close enough, however, the blankets finding their root in their spots, the pillows finding themselves underneath the hold. Their conversations were brief and short before he finally stood back, admiring his handy work. The roof was dipped a bit, the fort not that big, yet Anne’s eyes only showed something more golden than the sun as she stepped closer to the pile of blankets and pillows.

Had… she not seen a pillow fort before?

“This is for me?” Oh, oh, he really hadn’t expected her tears to rim themselves with tears, or her bottom lip to quiver, but her was ready for her arms to wrap around his middle, squeezing him with her might. “Thank you… Thank you so much, Charles.” Her voice as soft as a mouse, her blonde hair a frazzle, he didn’t know where to put his hands for a moment before he settled one on her hip, the other in her hair as he tamed the fly aways. His hand so easily cupped her head, his thumb tucking hair behind her ear, and he swore she could feel his heartbeat drumming away at her ear.

To have her so close, to feel her pulse against his own, he couldn’t help but gulp, his throat all the much drier with words caught within.

“I… should take my leave.” It was scandalous to be in a woman’s room, but yet she didn’t let him go, instead holding him all the much tighter. She rooted him to the spot, his breath hitching in his throat, but as those blue eyes stared up at him, he knew he couldn’t go.

“Stay with me a little longer?”

“I’ll stay with you as long as you wish, Anne.”

[kabirbajaj]

How To Make A Toy Aeroplane | Learn Basic Electronic Circuits | DIY Activity

In this video, we’re going to learn how to make a toy aeroplane. This fun and easy DIY activity will also teach you about basic electronic circuits. In this guide, we'll show you how to build a toy aeroplane from scratch. Whether you’re new to crafting or have some experience, this step-by-step guide will help you create a cool toy aeroplane that you and your kids will love.

Materials needed:

Ice cream sticks

Glue gun

Cutter

Battery

Electric motor

Copper tape or conducting wires

Small electric fan

Waste bottle caps (optional)

First, we'll show you how to put together the ice cream sticks to make the aeroplane's body and wings. Then, we'll connect the battery and motor using the wires to power the small fan, which acts like the aeroplane’s propeller. This toy aeroplane doesn’t fly, but it’s a great-looking toy that kids can play with and learn about basic electronics. By the end of this project, you’ll have a wonderful toy aeroplane that is both fun and educational.

[thylacines-toybox]

A strange find from the local recycle shop, an oddly seal-like plane with a dog pilot who can sit inside! Made by Clifford B McGuire, who upon searching seem to make a lot of pilot/aviator animals.

Process of cleaning them up below...

The sealplane caught my eye in the big toy bin first! A friend looked it up and discovered it’s meant to come with a pilot, who I found hiding way at the bottom of the bin. They made me laugh so I had to save them, either for me or for somebody.

The sealplane had a couple of stains on its wings and body, while the pilot had a very stained shirt and torn tie, and was just a bit scruffy looking. Apparently the sealplane is supposed to have a couple of engines under the wings too, oh well! Guess it just glides now.

First I unpicked all of pilot dog's clothes to clean and fix separately! The different materials would need cleaning different ways, especially felt which doesn’t wash well.

To help the hat hold its circular shape better, I turned it inside out and trimmed down the edge of the seam on the inside, then added a circle of foam to help keep it flat.

I decided not to wash this part, I just trimmed off the bobbly and tufty areas on the surface of the felt to neaten it up.

Dog had a hole in his neck so I stitched that up too. Actually I stitched all the way around his neck just for some extra strength.

Wash time! Using some warm water and a little dish soap, I gently scrubbed the sealplane's yellow spots without soaking it entirely, then brushed clear water through to rinse. I avoided scrubbing the felt pieces.

Dog actually wasn't too dirty under the clothes! I just gave him a little bit of cleaning, mainly on the light areas.

Since the shirt looked like normal shirt material, I tried soaking it in normal shirt stain remover! It worked really well! (Also it looked cool in the cup because a rainbow was shining through it while it fizzed!)

All the parts hung on the line to dry. Flying! Dog pilot must have pressed the eject button.

Once dried, I stitched the clothes back on to the pilot. I used the remaining piece of his tie as a template to cut out two new pieces of black felt which tie together.

Sealplane’s printed lettering was lifting up in a few spots, so I used a teeny tiny dot of superglue on the end of a pin to just dab under the letters and pressed them back down with my nail. I trimmed stray tufts off the felt around them too.

It would have been nice to touch up the flaked paint on the plane’s zipper too, but I don’t really have the right stuff for that, so I’m calling them done!

[pickingupspacetrash]

[ryansbedroom]

LEGO Fabuland 'Sandy Seagull's Plane' (1985). Bought from a collectibles store in Cowell in 2022. Left side exhaust pipe was in two pieces (hence the tape as a so-called temporary fix) but now it's gorilla-glued together (see last picture).

[derelictheretic]

hayfever is trying to assassinate me send help

[campbelltownhobbies]

From Kits to Collections: The World of Plastic Aircraft Models

Introduction to Plastic Aircraft Models

Welcome to the fascinating world of plastic aircraft models! Whether you're a seasoned model enthusiast or just starting out, the realm of plastic airplane toys offers endless possibilities for creativity and enjoyment. Join us on an exciting journey as we explore the art of crafting detailed replicas of these iconic flying machines.

Building Techniques and Tips

When it comes to building plastic aircraft models, there are various techniques and tips that can help you achieve a professional-looking final product. One key tip is to carefully read the instructions before starting as they often contain valuable information on assembly steps and painting guidelines.

Before assembling your model, make sure to clean the parts thoroughly to remove any mold release agents or debris that could affect bonding. Use a sharp hobby knife for precise cutting and sand down any rough edges for seamless fits. Test fitting components before gluing them together can save you from potential mistakes later on.

Consider investing in quality modelling tools such as tweezers, clamps, and brushes for better precision during the construction process. When painting your model, thin your paints with acrylic thinner for smoother coats and let each layer dry completely before applying the next one.

Experiment with weathering techniques like dry brushing or washes to add depth and realism to your model. Practice patience throughout the building process; rushing can lead to errors that may be difficult to correct later on.

Plastic model planes

Campbelltown Hobbies - Plastic model planes have come a long way in terms of quality and detail, making them a favourite pastime for both hobbyists and collectors alike. Whether you are just starting or have been building plastic aircraft models for years, there is always something new to learn and explore in this fascinating world.

So, go ahead, pick up your favourite plastic airplane toy kit or collection, unleash your creativity, and let your imagination take flight with these incredible miniature replicas of aviation marvels!

[ellacelines]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by ella celine (@ellacelinestudio)

It's there, and you'll see it,

developing my final personal project 

second slide is my moodboard; Margate Seashell Grottos and Doris Salcedo‘s Untitled Sculpture

[arkieandsprig]

Things to do when your bored (little edition)

Hi guys it’s sprig here I have a jar that I use when I bored (it’s mainly used when I’m not regressed). Today Arkie asked me to look through the jar and find things that littles could do. Then they asked me to share it with you guys so here it is.

Watch funny YouTube videos (with your CG or your stuffies)

Play a board game with your CG or little friends (My favourite is pictureka)

Have a bubble bath (with bath toys if you have any)

Make paper boats, paper aeroplanes, paper chains or paper snowflakes

Play some age appropriate video games (I like animal crossing and slime rancher)

Do some colouring

Plan your very own business

Make a collage

Take silly selfies (photo booth is a good app for this)

Write a story

Draw an animal (real or made up)

Read an age appropriate book (my favourite is starpuff)

Watch an age appropriate movie (my favourite is my little pony: the movie)

Junk modelling (make models out of recycling)

Go for a walk with your CG or a stuffy

Have a teddy bear picnic

Make a pillow and blanket fort

Learn how to make scoobies

Design your very own poster

Draw your dream house or playroom

Go outside and do a scavenger hunt

[yeoldenews]

It’s Dear Santa time again!

Every year since 2010, I have spent the month of December posting children's Dear Santa letters.

Publishing letters to Santa in the newspaper first became widely popular in the late-1890s, though scattered newspapers did so as early as the mid-1880s. I believe this sudden explosion in popularity was at least partially the result of the famed "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause" editorial which was published in The New York Sun in September of 1897.

In large cities Dear Santa letters often acted as a method of getting needed clothing and supplies to impoverished children when parents might be ashamed to ask for charity. Subscribers to the newspaper could choose a child’s letter and provide the items they asked for. The most common requests were shoes and coats.

Sometimes newspapers offered prizes for the best letter (which I suspect often acted as another clandestine form of charity as the winners were often letters asking for basic clothing and school supplies.) Though these prizes could range from the ordinary (a sled or a doll) to the extravagant (a $20 gold piece or a live pony.)

Often local stores would enter children in a drawing if they mentioned the store in their letter - which on occasion would result in children hilariously name-dropping every store in town just in case.

Writing Dear Santa letters was also commonly an activity done at school, often following some rough form letter. These letters are fairly easy to spot as they often hype up what a good student the child was and include effusive praise for their teacher (who would likely see the letter before it was sent.)

So why have I spent hundreds of hours of my life over the last decade reading tens of thousands of these letters?

Children's voices are largely absent from the historical record.

Dear Santa letters offer an extremely rare opportunity to see history unfold through children's eyes - in their own (often creatively spelled) words.

1914′s “Remember the children in Belgium” becomes 1918′s “Please visit my brother in France”.

During the Great Depression the very common phrase “I know you’re poor this year too Santa” gives a glimpse into parents' attempts to explain to their children why they might not be getting as much this year.

1939′s “Be careful flying over Europe” becomes 1945′s “Since the war is over you’re making bb-guns again right?”

Requests for toy flying machines become aeroplanes become fighter jets become space shuttles.

Dolls and wagons become Shirley Temple merchandise become Erector Sets become Barbies and Star Wars action figures.

But through all these changes one thing remains clear throughout 130+ years of letters to Santa, despite the rapidly changing world around them - children have always been children.

I hope you enjoy these letters as much as I do! (All decade+ of posts are tagged “Dear Santa” if you’d like to see more than just this year’s selection.)

Hapy Holadays and Marry Crimes!

[lucy90712]

babysitting- Gavi

"I know it's last minute but would you mind babysitting today your dad and I have to head out of town tonight we'll be back tomorrow morning I'll give you money for dinner and everything" my mum said on the phone 

"Of course I need to ask Pablo but I'm sure he'd be fine with it I'll let you know as soon as I've got a reply" I said 

It's not often that my parents ask me to babysit. My little brother Milo was a surprise to say the least but despite me being old enough to help out once he was born they very rarely ask and any time they do they always pay me like they would any other babysitter. I would love to just say yes to help them out but now that I live with Pablo in his house I don't think it's right for me to just have my brother with us without him knowing. All it took was a quick text and Pablo answered straight away saying that it was more than ok so I let my mum know she can come over whenever. 

It was then that I realised I wasn't at all ready I'd organised all of this while still in bed so I hopped out of bed and got ready at lightening speed and started on child proofing the house as best as I could. Seeing as Pablo and I are still in our teens and definitely not ready to have kids of our own his house isn't exactly child proof every piece of furniture seems to have sharp corners and there are plenty of uncovered plug sockets. Past me had thought that one day I may need to babysit so I did pre buy some things so all I had to do was find them and put them out. It took me quite a while but just as I finished doing as much as I could the doorbell rang and as soon as it was open I was nearly taken out by Milo who for someone so little has a lot of strength. My parents were in a rush but they gave me everything they have at home that I'd need before heading straight off to where they needed to be. 

In the way little kids do he had a ton of energy so I suggested we play with some of his toys that my mum had given me. It's been so long since I let my inner child take over that I think I had more fun playing with the cars and trucks pretending they were building all sorts of things than my brother did. Mostly it was just nice to see him as I've been so busy that I haven't spent as much time with my family as I should it's crazy how fast kids grow and develop new skills I feel like I'm with a whole new human not the kid I saw just a few months ago. As we were playing with some toy aeroplanes the front door opened and Pablo came in, usually I'm Milo's favourite person but as soon as you get Pablo in the mix I'm always long forgotten. Today was no different either as soon as Pablo had stepped into the living room he got the same greeting I did this morning but he saw it coming and picked up the charging child with ease. 

Despite just getting back from training Pablo suggested we go to the local park so I packed up a bag with some snacks while Pablo put Milo's shoes on which is a battle for anyone other than Pablo. We headed out and I was quickly left behind they went running off towards the park while I walked behind admiring their little bond. Pablo was definitely only running to not let Milo get too far away but as soon as they got to the road across from the park Milo stopped and waited for Pablo as he's been taught not to cross the road without holding someone's hand. They both waited for me so I jogged a bit to catch up but after that they were gone again heading towards the field to play football. As much as Pablo has spent his morning training and playing football he was still so excited to play with Milo who has just started going to practices on a weekend so was looking forward to having his new skills tested by a professional player. 

I let them play football together as my football skills leave a lot to be desired I think I may be worse than Milo who's only just started learning. Eventually I suggested that we go play in the play park which Milo seemed happy about and so did Pablo who needed a bit of a break from trying to match a toddlers energy levels. Milo wanted to go on the slides so I followed him and went up and down so many times I was starting to get dizzy. He then wanted to try the monkey bars but he's too small so I had to hold him as he went across which would be fine if I ever kept up with going to the gym but I don't so my arms got tired quite quickly. A point came where I couldn't hold him anymore so Pablo came to my rescue and suggested the swings. We took turns pushing Milo who was having the time of his life with his high we let him go, the sound of him giggling just melted my heart. 

Eventually we'd tired Milo out and he wanted to go home for dinner and then bed. He tried walking but he was just too tired so Pablo picked him up and carried him the whole way home. If the events of the day so far hadn't already melted my heart enough it definitely exploded with cuteness seeing Milo snuggle his face into Pablo's neck. Whenever the time comes Pablo is going to be the best father he's already so good with Milo and any other child he meets. The image of Pablo holding our baby the way he's holding Milo filled my brain and only made the smile on my face bigger. Of course we aren't ready to have our own children yet but days like these make me so excited for when that time comes being able to share all the amazing moments that having a child brings with the person who means the most to me is something I can't wait for. 

Once we made it home Milo just wanted to cuddle with me so Pablo took charge of cooking dinner but I did my best to help where I could. When the food was ready we all ate dinner together before I did Milo's bed time routine with him as I knew what my parents do with him every night. Pablo came back to join us when it was time for a bedtime story we both sat on the edge of the bed as I read Milo's favourite book while Pablo stroked his head until he was fast asleep. We both exited the room as quietly as possible avoiding all of the squeaky floorboards and pieces of furniture which are hard to see when the lights are off. 

We headed downstairs and both flopped back onto the sofa starting to feel the tiredness of keeping so active all day. This is half the reason we aren't ready to have kids of our own as I know we'd both be so tired at the end of the day and we like our sleep but we wouldn't get nearly enough of it. After gathering our thoughts for a second Pablo moved closer to me and got me to rest my head on his chest while he played with my hair that's falling out of the ponytail I put it in this morning. He pressed a kiss on the top of my head so I looked into his eyes which had that look in them the look they have when he's at his happiest.

"I'm exhausted but todays been amazing I can't wait to have kids of our own one day" Pablo said 

"I'm glad you say that as that's all I've been thinking about all day you are going to make the best dad when the time comes" I said 

"And you will be the best mum I just know it" he said 

"Right now though I think we wait a few years for kids I don't think I could do this every day kids are really draining" I said 

"Agreed how many kids would you actually want?" Pablo asked 

"I think at least 2 but not too many I know it's takes a toll on your body and I don't think I could handle having lots of kids" I said

"2 sounds perfect but we will have as many as you want it's your body so if 1 is enough then we will be a happy family of 3" he said 

"Until then I'm more than ok with just sticking to baby sitting" I said yawning 

"And practicing making babies" Pablo said which earned him a slap on the arm but he wasn't wrong practicing is fun 

[kabirbajaj]

How To Make Aeroplane With Paper And Straw | Make Easy Airplane With Paper | DIY Activity 

Finding activities that can keep your kid engaged and help them to learn motor skills can be a little daunting task. Especially, the easy and fun activities that kids find interesting.

So, here Stupid Labs brings you the easy and fun DIY activity of making a straw aeroplane that will fly higher than the other paper aeroplane. 

To make this simple aeroplane, you only need a few materials that are easily available at your home.

Materials Needed:

Two drinking straws, one sheet of A4 or letter-sized paper tape or glue scissors

To make a simple paper aeroplane, start by cutting two long strips of paper, each about the width of your hand. These will form the wings and loops of the plane. For the wings, fold one strip in half to find the centre, then unfold it and place a straw along the fold line, securing it with tape or glue. 

This straw will be the plane's body. Next, cut the other strip in half, forming two shorter strips. Fold each into a loop and tape or glue the ends together. Attach one loop to the front of the straw and the other to the back, ensuring the back loop is slightly smaller for better flight. 

Add a bit of tape to the front for balance. Hold the plane by the straw and gently throw it, making adjustments to the loops and wings as needed for a smooth flight.

[thylacines-toybox]

A wonky little aeroplane sand "animal" bought from a toy shop in January 2024.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptcation. two fills in one day wooooo that's how much i hate my job lolol]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) 24: imperfect (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

The silence that greets John as he walks up the seventeen steps, bags of groceries in hand, is perfectly ominous. He's only been gone two hours, for God's sake.

… but he's kidding himself if he thinks Rosie & Sherlock can't do a significant amount of damage in twenty minutes, let alone two hours.

He resigns himself to a huge repair bill and/or an angry Mrs Hudson, and opens the door.

Sherlock is stood in front of the sitting room table, holding a squirmy Rosie. 'Hello, John.'

'Hi Daddyyyyy.'

John raises an eyebrow. 'She's very excited about something.'

Sherlock clears his throat and looks down momentarily. 'Yes. Well. We may have had an exciting…incident.'

John sets the bags down on the kitchen table then walks back to face them. He runs his eyes over his daughter, but doesn't see any obvious damage. 'Any blood?' 

'Absolutely not,' Sherlock says immediately.

'On either of you?' John amends.

Sherlock shifts Rosie in his arms. 'Not important.'

'Alright, I'll bite. What is important, then?'

'Well, first we need to apologise, because we may have--'

'Broke bowl,' Rosie interrupts him firmly.

John shakes his head. 'We break bowls all the time, I don't--'

Sherlock moves aside, and John sees what's on the sitting room desk behind him.

'Oh,' he says shortly, his heart plummeting somewhere into his belly. On the table sits a sad pile of ceramic shards where once a handmade bowl had stood.

His eyes start to sting. John has very little left of his mum, and she'd been especially proud of that bowl. He can feel his heart rate increase as anger begins singing through him.

'I'm so sorry, John.' Sherlock's voice is low, and John's gaze snaps to him. His cool eyes are muddled with worry, and that's enough to jolt John into action.

'Need a minute, thanks,' he says, enunciating clearly, and Sherlock doesn't hesitate to nod, then reaches for a toy with which to distract Rosie.

John closes his eyes and doesn't count to ten; instead he forces air into his lungs, pictures his baby girl, and begins to count her toes and fingers. This he does, over and over and over again, until he can breathe, until he feels the anger slip and slide on its way, transforming into resignation and maybe even a glimmer of acceptance.

It is what it is.

He opens his eyes and breathes out. His body feels loose, almost depleted, but the red haze is gone. 'What happened?' he asks, throat a bit rough, as he approaches the table. Part of the bowl is actually intact, though there are a few small cracks running along it like wrinkles.

'We were playing aeroplane,' Sherlock explains, 'and her feet made an unexpected landing, one could say.'

John's lips twitch. 'And you're all right? You didn't try to heroically save the shards and end up slicing your hand open?'

Sherlock's face-- John's not sure what to make of it, exactly, but he has the feeling that as soon as they've settled in for the night he's going to have the living daylights kissed out of him. He is very much on board.

'It's just a little cut,' Sherlock says. 'And I already have a plaster on it.' He shifts Rosie and holds up the wounded finger in evidence.

It's a Sesame Street plaster, and that for some reason breaks John. He feels laughter shake through his limbs. 'Oh, Christ,' he says, wiping his eyes and looking up at Sherlock. A final chuckle escapes him, then he nods. 'You know what we're going to do?'

'What are we going to do?'

'We're going to declare that what was once a bowl is now an ashtray. In its final form, like.'

Sherlock lets out a surprised huff of laughter. 'An ashtray, you say?'

Rosie is not to be left out. 'What's ash tray?'

John and Sherlock exchange a look, but Sherlock speaks first. 'Something that will sit on our shelf, right here--' He walks over to the bookshelf by the fireplace. '--right next to the one that we s--'

John clears his throat.

'--acquired from the Palace.'

Rosie perks up, no longer interested in the ashtrays one little bit. 'Palace?'

Sherlock realises he's landed into some Prince & Princess Time a split second too late to do anything about it. 'Yes, palace,' he ad libs. 'In the sky!'

Rosie's eyes go wide, and the corner of John's mouth turns up. 'Well done.' He walks over to where they're standing and kisses them both. 'I'm going to put away the groceries and see about tea, all right?'

Sherlock leans in and kisses him again before he can move away. 'Thank you,' he says quietly while shifting Rosie to his other side. 'I know that's difficult for you.'

John nods in acknowledgement, and picks up the newly-christened ashtray one more time. 'Looks a little… rough, but should work fine.'

'It has character,' Sherlock replies.

'Personality.'

'An origin story.'

'A palace!' Rosie interjects, throwing her hands up in the air.

John's grin matches Sherlock's smirk. 'Close enough.'

[ <3 ]

And we get a little further from perfection Each year on the road / I think that's called 'character'; I think that's Just the way it goes

[inspired by 'Imperfectly' by Ani Difranco, from the album Imperfectly, which I have been listening to obsessively bc of this, and it's been a marvellous, self-indulgent time.]

[luveline]

Maybe this is a dumb request…but could you do a fic where Roan is having a really bad day (for no particular reason) and she is just kinda being fussy and behaving differently than normal and Eddie tries to figure out what’s wrong and make Roan feel better while reader falls more and more in love with the both of them. I literally think that would be the cutest ever🥰

i kind of made it so there was a reason but i hope this is still okay! ty for ur request ♥︎ fem!reader

You know it's going to be a difficult day as soon as you wake up, plagued by the absence of a small body between you and your partner. You turn on one side to slap off the alarm, and then the other to wake Eddie yourself. 

He's disturbed by the sound of the alarm but not quite there, and so you cup his face in your hand and rub a pattern into his stubbly cheek with your thumb. 

"My love," you mumble, careful not to breathe any morning breath on him. "Up and at 'em." 

"No." 

You laugh quietly and rub your forehead against his chin. "Yeah, baby. You need a shave, and Roan isn't awake." 

"I can see that. Got a distinct lack of knees in my chest." 

"And morning kisses." 

"Well, you can fix that." 

You climb onto your knees, cradle his face in both hands, and plant a perfect kiss on the tip of his nose. His hand finds your neck, and the two of you linger in place like twin statues for a stolen moment. 

"You shave, I'll get Roanie," you say. 

"Yeah." 

You make for Roan's bedroom. Sounds echo from the bathroom, the faucet running, Eddie shaking a can of shaving foam. You push open Roan's door and shut it behind you, hoping for another gentle wake up call. It can be the difference between a good day and a bad one, to be woken up sweetly. 

Picking carefully over a mess of toys and clothes, you remind yourself to clean up her explosions when you have the time, and lower yourself next to the small lump in her bed. She's still so small. 

"Macaroanie," you sing lightly, hand dropped onto her back. "It's time to get up, princess. I thought we'd have a special breakfast this morning, but we can only do that if we're quick." You rub her back, brush her hair out of her eyes. 

She shies away from your touch and hides her face in the pillow completely. 

"Come on," you say, patting her shoulder.

"No," she grumbles. 

"Come on, baby. I'll make pancakes, okay? But we have to get up now and pick your clothes." 

"No." She moves her shoulder, throwing your hand off. 

You pull your hand into your lap, feeling rather dejected, and totally unawares of what's affecting her. Thankfully, Eddie appears like a saviour, opening the door with a small piece of tissue paper stuck to his cheek. 

"Eddie," you sigh. 

"It's tiny. I was rushing." He finds his place at your side and assesses his still in bed daughter with a puzzled expression. "She sick?" 

"Don't think so." 

He cuts between you and encourages Roan's head to the side. She makes her indignation known, and Eddie says, "Let daddy feel your temperature," in his softest, kindest tone. 

He presses first the back of his hand and then the front to her skin. Practised movements. 

"You feel fine," he says, dropping his hand. "Come on, babe. I know you're tired, but we gotta get this show on the road."

She doesn't say anything, only curls in on herself.

Eddie looks at you unphased. Where you feel hopeless, unsure of what to do even though it's not the first time Roan's been in an unhappy mood, he's a pro. 

"Go do what you need to," he says to you, arms sliding under a grumbling body and hoisting her up into his chest. "I'm on Roan duty today." 

He smiles. You flash one back. 

After you're dressed and ready for work you meet them downstairs, where Eddie's somehow managed to dress himself and Roan, and is now trying to aeroplane cereal into her mouth.

"I'm not a baby," she protests. 

"You're my baby," he says, ignoring her grumpy attitude. 

She's scowling so hard she's gonna have a wrinkle between her eyebrows, and it gets worse as you leave the house. You try to smooth it away when you part, leaning down between Eddie's car and yours to give her your usual farewell kiss on the cheek. She allows it grudgingly.

"Have a good day. I love you." 

She mumbles. You pout and stand at full height, where Eddie offers an apologetic farewell all his own, squeezing your shoulder until it aches in the best way. 

"See you at six," he says. 

You nod. He kisses you, and you don't see them again until you're home. 

You worry about Roan all day. She's a happy kid, she's well-loved. She's loving. It's out of character for her to be so grumpy so you chalk it up to tiredness. 

When you get home, you plan on fulfilling your usual routine; track down Roan where she's watching cartoons on the couch, hug her within an inch of her life, find your boyfriend in the kitchen and hug him too. Eddie works less hours than you so he can be there for pick-up duty, and he's home first each day without fail. But today, there's no sign of him. 

No Roan on the couch. No cartoons. No dinner bubbling on the stove top. 

You check for his car in the driveway again and feel your lips tug down into an unabiding frown. 

"Guys?" you call.

"We're up here!" 

You toe off your shoes and bump up the stairs two at a time, more worried than anything. 

"What's going on in here?" you ask, pushing open Roan's door first. 

They're in her big princess bed, under princess silk sheets. Eddie's swapped his mechanic's coveralls for comfy clothes, and Roan is in one of her nighties. They're both on their backs, though Roan's face rests against Eddie's chest. 

"My sweethearts," you say, more to yourself than either of them. "What's wrong?" 

He runs a hand over Roan's hair. "Can I tell her?" 

She shakes her head and hides her eyes. 

Eddie gives you a sympathetic, sorry pout. "How was work?" 

"It was just fine." You feel behind you for the doorknob. "I'll make dinner, okay? You guys stay where you are." 

Roan pushes up so she can whisper in Eddie's ear. 

Eddie hums. "Okay." He smiles, eyes creased with fondness, and says to you, "Will you come and lie down with us. We- I missed you." 

You rush to get changed and climb into bed with them, crushing Roan in a big love sandwich. Your arm curls around her on impulse, as if you could shield her from whatever it is that's irking her. She doesn't respond in any way, but she's letting you cuddle, and it's enough. 

You listen to Eddie problem solve in awe. He talks slowly, quietly, careful questions that don't probe so much as guide Roan into the answers you want to hear. How was school? And what was for lunch today? Yeah, you like spaghetti, was it as nice as the one we make at home? Aw, that's too bad. We can have spaghetti ourselves this week if you want.

He talks for at least an hour until he gets to the very root of the problem. 

"You were sitting with Melissa again?" he asks. 

You toy with a baby curl, twisting and untwisting it around your finger. Hunger gnaws at your stomach but you refuse to move. 

"Yes… She had her hair in braids again." 

"Yeah?" 

You blink, interest piqued. It's the most she's said of her own volition all day. 

"And everybody said she looked pretty." 

He looks over Roan's head at you with a winning smile, but quickly tamps it down when Roan looks up and between you both. 

"I think you'd look so pretty with braids in, Ro," you say. 

Eddie nods appraisingly. "So pretty. Is that something you want?" 

She seizes up a little, like she hadn't expected to get caught. "I don't know," she mumbles. 

Eddie beams. "You know you look amazing every day, don't you? But, babe? With braids in? I think you'd look so beautiful." 

"Super pretty," you agree with a hurried nod. 

"But dad doesn't know how to do braids," she says, sounding at a crossroads between happy and let down. 

You hold her cheek in your hand and push up onto your elbow. "I know how to do them, princess. Remember, I did them for your costume day? And daddy can learn." 

"I can. You can have your hair whatever way you want, Ro. You could shave it all off-" He stops at your broken-hearted gawping. "Or, you know, something less drastic." 

Roan smiles like everythings been solved. Then, too soon, her tiny smile fades back into indifference, and she curls up like a pill bug. 

You're lost. 

Eddie, not so much. "You don't need different hair to be pretty." 

"Nobody at school calls me pretty," she says. 

You hold your breath. 

"Sweetheart…" He sits up and Roan hides in the space behind his back. He turns around, scoops her up, and kisses the top of her head. "Is your mom pretty?" 

Your heart literally soars, worse when Roan looks over his shoulder at you and says, "Yes," without hesitation. 

"Do you tell her that every day?" 

"...No." 

"No, we don't. We don't always remember to tell her, but that doesn't mean she isn't beautiful." He pulls her face away from his collar to smile at her. "Your friends don't always remember to tell you, but that doesn't mean you're not pretty. But I'm your dad, and I'm literally the smartest guy alive, and I say you look pretty every day." He tucks a curl behind her ear. "'Kay?" 

Your heart is a puddle in your chest, melted. 

"Okay." 

"Feel a little better?" 

She deliberately visually, eyes up to the ceiling. "Can we have spaghetti tonight? They don't make it nice like you, with the bread." 

"They don't, huh?" He smirks, charmed. 

"They really don't," you say.

They remember you're there, and both of them light up. Roan wiggles to be put down and makes her way on top of your chest, a weight you wouldn't trade for anything. "Oof," you say, wrapping your arms around her. "There's my girl." 

Eddie makes spaghetti. You get your after school cuddle. All's right with the world, until that night when Eddie keeps you up late for braiding lessons. 

"I'm a deadbeat," he says morosely, hair full of clumsy plaits of different lengths and tightness. 

You shake your head, head heavy with fatigue but entirely sincere. "You're the best dad in the world." 

—

more eddie and roan

[piratefishmama]

Vibe Check - Oneshot

Eddie would never claim to enjoy his job. It’d be far too strange for Eddie Munson to admit to enjoying a government based job but there was something fundamentally exciting about getting to see all the little gizmos and random shit that people tried to take onto aeroplanes with them.

Of course there was the usual, bottles of liquid over a certain amount, tiny scissors or nail clippers from grooming sets that they absolutely had no idea weren’t allowed on a plane. There were the fun days with the drugs, the weird days with bagged ashes for scattering purposes that looked like it could conceal drugs and thus had to be tested. Nothing like telling a family you had to test grandma for concealed cocaine cause the computer said no.

There were the shared looks between co-workers when they spotted a dipshit in line, be nice to your fellow flyers folks, the TSA might grab you for a full cavity check for funsies if you don’t!

But then, then, you’d have those people. The people who everyone would automatically judge by their cover because the cover was all they had. Eddie didn’t usually do that, he’d often stick with the vibes and let his co-workers base their hunches on looks, it worked for Eddie nine times out of ten but today..

Today he was off his game a little. The vibe check on this one guy was coming back ?????

Call a lawyer the guy looked like every suburban mothers' wet dream, the kind of guy who wore polo’s and sweater vests, and the type to have a yacht and actually go to the clubs for it on the regular, probably had a membership to his father’s golf club that he actually used. Maybe had a fancy corner office job in Indy, he looked like the corner office type. But the vibe check came back saying NAY, believing it on this particular occasion seemed like a stupid thing to do.

Like sure he was stunning, literally, just a beautiful specimen of a human being, which Eddie would quietly mourn never seeing again, but he looked so straight laced that even holding hands might be a stretch for him.

So Eddie was reduced to book cover judgements because the vibes were wonk. No big deal.

The guy was in his line, he didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable, taking his watch off, putting it into a tray, a ring not on his wedding ring finger went in, his members only jacket, his belt, and shoes, into a second went his phone and a small tablet plus their chargers. And into another went the carry on bag, he was prepared. He flew often enough to know about separating things into their own trays.

Probably some high-level business exec. He looked the type.

“Through here sir” his co-worker directed waving him through, the tray containing the guys carry-on was last, so he was through the detector clean as a whistle before Eddie had seen what was in his case.

Probably a good thing because Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva when that case rolled through.

Holy shit.

“Uhm” he squeaked. He. A grown man. Squeaked. He’d deny that later, even if his currently heated complexion was giving him away.

That... that was an entire carry on full of sex toys. What. The fuck. Was that a whip held together by handcuffs?

Maybe the vibes hadn’t let him down after all. His co-worker walked over, Mr Sex Pest in disguise cast them a raised brow.

“Holy shit...I’ll uhm ill just—”

“No the fuck you won’t” Eddie was up, scrambling around him after flagging the bag for checks. “I got this.” He had this. He was already in front of Sweater Vest before his partner could stop him from making the potentially career ending move of approaching the sneakiest sex loony ever with interest in mind. Sweater Vest could easily complain! Eddie had no real reason to flag it, they were all contained, no bottles, no concerning substances, just toys.

“Problem, sir?” Oh boy the airport was hot. Sweater Vest had moles, cute little moles, moving on.

“Just a few checks regarding the contents of your carry on.” Gloves on, he half expected the guy to try and stop him to save face, but no, he stood there with a raised brow and an amused little curl of a smile on his lips.

“Go ahead.” Zips open and holy shit. It was like Eddie had stepped into the back room of a sex shop. Floggers, a whip, plugs, vibes, clamps, shibari ropes, dildos, both fluffy and actually decent handcuffs, why have two pairs one shit and one not? They were all so neatly organised too, the man was tidy. Was that a sounding rod?!

Could be a creep, could be a creep, coooould be a creep.

“So...”

“So... sir?” Sweater vest seemed to be challenging him. Fine, he could play ball.

“Any liquids in here that I need to know about? Drinks? Lotion? Industrial sized bottle of lube?” At least Sweater Vest laughed. A surprised little giggle snort of laughter that sounded beautiful. Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“Nope, that’d be in the checked case.” Oooh Sweater Vest had a sense of humour “sorry I know it looks a little whacky, I’m a panel runner at the BDSM convention in Illinois this weekend, i know i'm headed in early but panel runners have to get everything set up properly if they're there for the whole weekend.” Eddie’s eyes widened, holy shit the vibes WERE right, haha fuck you supervisor who called him arrogant when he claimed to just be able to tell with people. “These are for the demonstrations.”

“...Demonstrations, on...?” He had absolutely no right to ask these questions what so ever, his colleague was already probably planning on ratting him out, but while curiosity did indeed kill the cat, satisfaction brought it back!

“A friend, A willing member of the audience, a dummy, depends on the insurance the convention has, this one allows me to pick a very lucky member of the audience since my usual convention partner is in Hawaii on her honeymoon like a traitor.”

“So... you’re a uhm... a—” not okay not allowed big nope so very unprofessional he was so fired.

“Not a Dominant, no. I’m a Submissive, both professionally and personally” didn’t need to tell him the personally bit, didn’t need to tell him that at all but he did, it was there, Sweater vest seemed pretty happy about it being out there too “I co-own an adult shop in Indy, one of the best for this kind of stuff but I have plenty of recommendations if you're not interested in my shop, here,” Sweater Vest pulled a gods honest business card out of a small compartment in the case, which listed him as the managing director/owner of one of Eddie's favourite sex shops of all time, a shop he’d only ever ordered from online so he’d never seen the owners. They had an incredible BDSM range and also delivered discreetly, they were a privately owned small business run right out of Indianapolis, also on the card though, was an Only Fans account, holy shit. “That ok with you, sir?” Sweet Cheesus on toast, had his pants just shrunk?

Steve. Steve Harrington. God that was such a golf club guys name, Steve leaned forward onto his elbows at a slight bend, eyeing Eddie up like he wanted to eat him alive, any other situation, Eddie would have let him. He wanted to bend that little brat over his knee. He loved bratty subs.

“Illinois huh?” Eddie zipped the case right back up again, as if he’d actually checked anything. He hadn’t. “Was thinking of going to that one actually, more of a dominant myself though...” trying so hard to be nonchalant to the most beautiful and confident Submissive he’d ever seen in his life “this a beginners panel?”

Steve smiled, clearly not angered by this deeply unprofessional halt to his journey. “Beginner, intermediate, pro, it’s more new toy and prop range demonstrations and a Q&A mainly, a variety of folks usually attend so... no matter your experience level you should come, maybe I’ll even make you my lucky audience member.” Steve took that card back, just to make a show of slipping it into Eddies chest pocket, tapping it once for good luck. “Can I get to my gate now, sir? Or do I need to be detained? I’m sure a cavity search would be awfully entertaining for me...considering...”

He couldn’t not ask “Considering?” His throat felt so dry, where was a confiscated bottle of unopened soda when you needed it?

“There’s four plugs in there, I actually have five” he winked, he winked. “The fifth wouldn’t fit.”

“Fuck...” Eddie breathed, much to the man’s amusement. “You’re ah—you’re free to go” he couldn’t actually hold him there and his co-workers were already starting to glare at him.

Steve grinned broadly at him before moving to grab his things, calling out a cheery “see you this weekend!” before he was off, and Eddie was taking his break early to book the next flight out to Illinois.