#which now all he is is a slinky thank you for that

[lymtw]

Hi ! This is my first time requesting something on Tumblr and I don't know if your requests are open, but if they are could you please write something about Toji where f!reader is his girlfriend (long term) and she gets in a small argument with young megumi in which he says she's not his mom (which she isn't, but she still kinda raised him with Toji). She gets sad and Toji comforts her and maybe scolds megumi and it's fluffy at the end ?

I hope it's not too confusing 😅 and if you don't want to do it it's completely okay ! I really like the way you write Toji and your works are so good !

A/N: Ngl I actually kinda teared up a little when I was thinking out the scenario for this. Don't judge me, it was like 2am-ish lol. This prompt is so good 😭🫶🏼

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji could hear bickering coming from outside your shared bedroom, familiar voices going back and forth over who knows what in the room next door. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, because he trusted that it would be over soon. You're an adult talking to a kid. Your logic is sharper than Megumi's, so things should be resolved quickly. His eyes shut again, but the arguing wouldn't cease. Who knows how long this has gone on for.

He sighs and blinks his tired eyes open, before getting out of bed to see what all the commotion is about at eight in the morning. He grabs his shirt from the end of the bed and slips it on, over his head, as he walks over Megumi's room. Your voices are much clearer to Toji, now, as he nears the door. He stands by to listen in on what's going on.

"I just organized your room, Megumi. All i'm asking you to do is to put your toys back where they belong when you're not playing with them."

"I am playing with them," the boy says, holding two dinosaur figures. "I'm playing with all of them. I'm gonna go back to the ones over there, right now."

You sigh. The argument has been looping this way for too long. It feels pointless to argue with a child, yet you're still doing it because deep down, it irks you to have put in so much effort to keep his space clean, just for him to trash it the second he occupies the room, again.

"Let's see." You start looking around the floor for toys you know for certain he hasn't been playing with. "You're not playing with this plushie or this car. This slinky isn't being used either and it's gonna get tangled if you don't put it somewhere safe."

The boy groans, tired of hearing you list off things you see out of place on the floor. He goes back to playing with the dinosaurs in his hands, blocking out your voice.

"Megumi, are you even listening to me?" You ask, setting some of the smaller toys you collected off the floor onto the top of his dresser.

"I don't want to and I don't have to," he utters, carelessly, not even sparing you a glance. "You're not my mom, so I don't have to listen to you. Just my dad."

You're stunned by this sudden revelation of his feelings towards you. The argument is over. Megumi was the winner because he got you to back off, but at what cost? Your heart weighed a ton after what he said. You had nothing else to say to him in that moment, so you let go of your end of the tug of war rope.

Toji hears your footsteps nearing the door and makes himself known by appearing as you're heading out.

"Hey." He attempts to grab your attention, but you don't even look at him. You pat his chest twice and leave the room. He takes a step out of the room, calling for you once more as you get farther away from him. "Ma." All he gets is a thumbs up from you as you keep walking, an indication of how you're not emotionally stable enough to respond verbally.

Toji sighs, briefly watching Megumi, who still hasn't stopped playing with his toys. He's completely unaware of what just went down.

He steps further into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to his mini.

"Megs, that wasn't cool." He receives a hum in response. "Why would you say something like that?"

Megumi's hands still. He briefly looks at his dad before resuming what he was doing. "Like what? I was just in here, playing with my toys," he says, feigning innocence, not knowing that Toji had been listening.

"I heard what you said and it wasn't nice at all. She's always been good to you."

"But what I said is true," he exclaims, his expressive, green eyes widening, defensively.

"Okay, let's calm down. I'm not raising my voice, am I?"

Megumi slowly shakes his head. He puts down the dinosaur toys and crosses his legs, folding his hands in his lap.

"I want you to look at it this way," Toji starts, looking around at the room you were once so proud of for returning to a pristine state, now cluttered with various toys and clothes. "She's always been here for you. She takes care of you when I have to go to work, she reads to you before bed, she wakes up to make you breakfast. You like when she makes breakfast, right?"

The boy nods. "I like when she makes dog shaped pancakes."

"Yeah, me too. You think she's gonna wanna be around and make dog shaped pancakes for us if you talk to her like that?"

Megumi shakes his head. "No, but she wouldn't stop telling me to clean up my toys when I told her that i'm still playing with them."

"Well, I only see you playing with this little pool of toys, here on the bed. Everything else is just scattered all over the place. You know she worked hard to clean this place up, right?"

"Mm... yeah," he responds, coyly.

"You're like a tornado, Megs," he says, causing the fluffy-haired boy to laugh. "Yeah, it's pretty funny, huh?" Megumi keeps laughing while nodding which makes Toji crack a grin.

"I'm sorry," Megumi mumbles, once he settles down. He looks down at the palm of his hand, tracing the lines on it with his thumb.

"That's not for me to hear, kid," Toji says, setting a hand on his head.

"But, i'm scared to tell her. What if she's mad at me?" He turns his head to look at his dad, eyes darting between matching green eyes and the scar that mars his lips.

"Nah, she loves you too much to ever get mad at you. How 'bout I go see what she's doing, and you draw something to give to her? When you're ready to give her your drawing, you can come out, yeah?"

"Okay." Megumi nods. "I'll go out there when i'm ready."

"Alright. See you in a bit. Love you."

"Love you, too, dad," he responds, a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

Toji leaves him to it, leaving the door slightly ajar when he exits the room. He immediately directs himself towards you. You didn't hide or hole up in the room, instead you went to the couch. Toji sits next to you, watching you scroll through your phone.

"Hey, you good?" He asks, watching your face as you turn your screen off and shift your attention to him.

You sigh. "Yeah, it's fine. It's not like he lied."

"Don't say that. You know he's wrong." He puts a hand on your knee, squeezing comfortingly. "He's still a brat that doesn't know the weight of his words. Thinks he can just fire out things like that and move on like it's nothing. As long as i'm here, he won't get away with saying ridiculous things like that to you."

"Yeah," you say, still sounding disheartened.

"I talked to him about it. The kid was just pissed that you called him out for the mess he made. He just wanted to be right, with zero logical thoughts in that head."

You nod, not wanting to say anything more about it. Everything Toji said was correct, but you still felt like you were tossed aside, in that moment. Like you were a puzzle piece that didn't fit into their family.

"Don't be bummed about it, baby. You know he loves you, and remember, he has called you 'mom' before."

That brings a smile to your face. You remember how shy he got after realizing what he said. The word slipped out so naturally. You treated him like you normally do, but on the inside you were all giddy and proud to be considered a maternal figure by him.

"There you go. There's that pretty smile," Toji says, grinning as he pulls you close.

"Stop," you say, blushing when he starts peppering your face with kisses. You giggle when he starts chasing your lips, eventually giving you the warm, comforting kisses he wanted to give you.

You push his face away when you hear the door to Megumi's room creak, followed by Megumi himself. He takes slow steps out of the hallway and when he sees you and Toji staring at him, he gets nervous. All the attention is on him so he diverts his gaze and looks down at the floor until he's standing in front of you two. His face is red and his hands are behind his back. Toji knows what he's hiding and he smiles.

"What's up, Megs?" You ask, when he just stands there, silently.

He shifts on his feet, looking at you and then at his dad, before looking at you once more. His arms come forward and his hands shakily extend a folded piece of paper towards you.

"For me?" You ask, enthusiastically, to which he nods before looking down at his feet, again. You unfold the paper and take in the whole page of bright colors. Toji looks at it over your shoulder, a soft smile resting on his face when he sees the genuine effort that was put into the page. The first thing you notice is the big 'I'm sorry' written in his jagged and uneven handwriting, followed by a heart that you can tell he redrew multiple times based on the faded outlines behind it. There's a drawing of two simplistic dogs and what looks like the flowers you put on the dinner table. There are three stick figures that resemble you, Toji, and Megumi. You smile when you see that he didn't miss Toji's scar. He used the top corner of the page to draw the sun and there are different colored stars all over the place.

"Aw, I love it! Can I keep it forever?" You ask, smiling when you look at his adorable blush-y expression.

"Yeah, I made it for you," he mumbles, shiny eyes looking back at you.

You fold the paper, carefully, making sure to follow along the crease he already made, and set it down beside you.

"Can I have a hug?" You ask, reaching your arms out. He nods and makes his way over to you, his small arms coming up short as they wrap around you. Your embrace envelops him entirely. He's nonexistent in your hold because of how small he is. You squeeze him a little tighter, causing him to giggle at the gesture. "Love you soooo much, Megs." Before you release him, you give him a small peck on the cheek. "How about some pancakes for breakfast?"

"Can you make them in the shapes of dogs, again?" He asks, tapping his foot, excitedly.

"Of course, I can," you respond, and he gets even more excited.

"Dad! D-Dad! Dad! She's gonna make dog shaped pancakes, dad!"

"Yeah, I heard," Toji responds, a dumb grin on his face. "You should help her out, today."

"Okay," Megumi says, before sprinting to the kitchen.

"I should go help him before he gets the kitchen messy, too," you say, rising from the couch when the boy quickly vanishes.

"Hey, come here," Toji says, pulling you back by your wrist. You're pulled down for some quick kisses, a continuation of the session that was interrupted earlier.

"Love you, doll," he says, his eyes flitting between your starry ones and that smile that makes him weak.

"Love you." He doesn't let go of your hand until the link breaks, once you're out of his reach.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: you’re a snack

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: G

genre: romance, fluff

pairing: lucifer x reader

summary: Being friends with the King of Hell was interesting to say the least. But Angel is tired of watching you both dance around each other.

Being friends with the King of Hell was interesting to say the least. When he decided after the extermination to live at the hotel, you seemingly saw him everywhere you were for the most part.

Like one day last week, you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen wanting to get a cup of coffee and blearily watch Alastor make breakfast. There was something comforting about it and you always thought it was cute he pulled his hair up. When you got down there to take your seat, Lucifer was in the seat next to yours, your coffee ready to go. You blinked a few times, confused and looked at the whole scene. Alastor was making breakfast and Lucifer was antagonizing him, Alastor giving it right back. All the way to threatening to make “the King of Hell coffee for him and slipping arsenic in it just to see what happens.”

You sit down looking at your coffee and then at Alastor and Lucifer. “Did Alastor make the coffee?”

“No, I did for you. I asked Alastor how you normally take your coffee though.” Lucifer said, smiling and somewhat proud of himself.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure Al over there with his prime supply of arsenic didn’t touch my coffee.” You said as your eyes could barely keep themselves open.

“Oh, I’d never put it in your coffee dear! That’s reserved for deserving pests.” Alastor said, scrambling some eggs. You nodded and thumbs upped him. You took a sip and hummed.

“Thanks Luce for the coffee.” You said and Lucifer looked at you, his cheeks aflame and nodded.

“O-Of course!” He looked ready to say something else when Charlie bounced in, saw you and proceeded to grab you and pull you to the door. No amount of protests stopping her for she had an activity. Your coffee was almost left when Lucifer snapped and the coffee disappeared and reappeared in your hand in a thermos to keep it warm. Your eyes widened and looked at him.

“Thank you!” You yelled as were now more willingly pulled around the corner and out of sight.

These occasions happened frequently, to the point where Angel started making fun of you as the “King of Hell has a crush on you”. It never failed to make your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you always told him to “be quiet.” But quiet and Angel only went so far and it was not one of his committed relationships. So, the minute he found out you liked Lucifer, you had to physically jump him to make him be quiet.

That is where Angel’s idea was born out of though. He was going to take you out, make Lucifer jealous and then all these months of tip toeing around each other would end up in you both finally admitting your feelings for each other. It was brilliant really, to Angel anyway. Which is why you found yourself in a slinky dress, make up done and hair done, walking downstairs to meet Angel at the bar. Husk telling you both to be careful, his eyes lingering on Angel as you smiled. Suddenly as you turn, there is Lucifer.

“Oh my golly, where are you both going, like that?” He says motioning to your outfits.

“We’re going out to a club Your Highness!” Angel exclaims. “Wanted to get out and have some fun dancing.”

“Well, you definitely look like… What did you call it the other day Angel… a snack! You look like a snack!” You choke on air hearing Lucifer tell you that.

“Aw, thanks short king! I know, Y/N definitely does look like a snack.” Angel says leading you to the door. As you pass, Lucifer stands there shocked.

“I know I said you look like a snack, but when I called you that I didn’t know you smelled like one too!” he exclaims coming up to you. “What time will you be back?” You open your mouth to answer but Angel beats you to it.

“Probably late. Why ya askin’? Wanna come with?” Angel grins.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” Lucifer said shaking his head. “I just wanted to see if after you both came back this one restaurant would be open and we could go check it out. I hear it’s good food if you’re up late at night.”

“Oh I see, well, I won’t be able to come because I’ve got a few things. But Y/N would love to, and what we’ll do is come back early, that way there’s plenty of time for you both to eat before the restaurant closes.” Angel said dragging you off. You look bewildered but smile and wave at Lucifer.

“I’ll see you later and I’ll text you!” Lucifer smiles and walks deeper into the hotel.

“That’s a date Angel, right?” You ask Angel as you both walked further away from the hotel.

“Yup Hot Stuff, you just got yourself a date with the King of Hell.” Angel says smiling. The rest of the walk is you gushing over this happening and Angel listening. Happy to finally put an end to all the dancing around each other you two had been doing.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 56

part 1 | part 55 | ao3

March

"Steve, honey," Claudia calls from the living room, where he can hear her shuffling around to get her things ready for work — the rustle of a jacket, the clink of keys against her thermos. "Do you need anything before you go?"

"I'm fine, Ma!" Steve answers.

And he is. He is fine. It’s been three weeks, and Steve is fine! He has a date tonight with a girl he doesn’t care about, and he's gonna cheer on Lucas at the championship game, and the other day at work he got a fifty cent per hour raise. And sure, his nightmares are worse than ever and his head aches all the time, and he’s had some weirdly persistent sinus infection or some shit going on, but he only teared up once this week while jerking off to thoughts of Eddie, so.

All in all, not bad.

He shoves a plain bagel in his mouth and rushes to leave the house; passes Claudia on the way out, who's now rapping her knuckles impatiently against Dustin’s door and asking, “Dusty, what’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late!" to which Dustin replies with a panicked shriek: “DON’T COME IN, I’M NAKED!”

Jesus Christ. "Deafen my other ear, why don't you?" Steve mutters under his breath.

He throws Ma a parting wave and heads out to pick up Robin so he can take her to school before his shift starts. She looks nicer than usual, and she won’t stop reapplying her mascara, and by the time Object of My Desire starts playing on the radio Steve is practically begging her to just suck it up and end this will-they-won’t-they thing with Vickie because it’s been months of obvious flirting and Robin still won’t make a move.

“I listen to you, and now look at me!” he argues, as if the handful of pointless dates he’s used to distract himself from Eddie are anything to look at. “Boom. Back in business.“

“Mm,” she objects, a little ‘you’re so full of shit’ frown on her face. “Not the same thing.”

Don’t say it, you bitch, don’t even—

“You ask out a girl and she says no…”

Oh, thank fuck. Steve sags in relief and licks the corner of his mouth as he listens to her rant, grateful that she’s just working the small town homophobia angle and very graciously not pointing out how half-hearted and sad his attempts to move on with his life have been. It’s a small mercy he repays by rambling about girls and boobies and girls who definitely like boobies until she scowls so hard at him that she smudges her mascara and has to apply another coat.

—

Dustin calls the store some time around lunch. Asks if Steve wants to sub in for Lucas at tonight’s Hellfire campaign, which, first of all, fuck you — he’s been helping Lucas practice for months now, he’s not about to miss this game — and secondly:

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie the Freak Munson?” he asks, idly playing with a slinky. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pass.”

"Dude."

"What?"

"You can’t just call him names because you’re pissed at him! That’s not cool!”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the slinky so hard it flops off the counter’s edge.

“Look,” Dustin says, his voice dipping into that low and slow and trustworthy thing that makes Steve want to snap the kid’s non-existent collarbones. “I know you won’t tell me what happened, but whatever it was, he’s sorry, okay? He’s really, really sorry. And he asks me about you, like, every day; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was in love with you or something.” Steve chokes on his own spit, and Dustin just keeps going; steps right over Steve’s corpse to continue his impassioned plea. “Besides, friends forgive each other! Right, Steve?”

Goddammit. Steve really regrets saying those exact words in that exact order the last time Lucas and Dustin had a fight. “Man, you can’t just use my own brotherly advice against me.”

“I can, and I will.” Wow. What a little shit. “Seriously, dude, come on! How many times do I have to pass on his apology messages before you just talk to him?”

How many times? How many times?

Steve doesn’t know.

He just knows he’s not ready; knows that as soon as he talks to Eddie, it’ll make it all real. It’ll be over for good. Whatever words they exchange next will get etched into the headstone of the thing they briefly had. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and make sense of the vortex in his head, but all he gets for the effort is a fresh migraine coming on.

He’s saved from answering by the doorbell’s chime. “I got some customers,” he says over Dustin's squawk of protest. “Gotta call you back, bye.”

—

part 57

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[the-universal-sun]

On what age range does Stan regress? And also what type of agree gear does be use? Just politely asking as a fren :3

Yes! Thank you friend for the ask! There’s going to be more coming this way because I’ll have entirely too much time on my hands in the next few days! So please enjoy this too!

Can you guys tell what book I apparently really like?

I don’t think there’s a solid age he regresses down to, like consistently, I think it’s around the 2-5 mark, unless something happens or he’s feeling extremely distressed, then he regresses down younger. Which, in that case, means he HAS to have someone take care of him. Which is probably going to be Ford, he’s the only one he can really trust to care for him in the way he needs when he feels that young.

As for gear, it depends.

If Fiddleford is his caregiver (and even though this would be in the early 80s we are going to be anachronistic. This is fiction we can take liberties) then he’s getting at least one pacifier. Fidds probably made it for Stan so he doesn’t mess up his teeth even more, and he probably made it to have a cute little nickname spelled out. I like to think Fidds uses food/southern nicknames for Stanley when regressed, so think something like “Pumpkin” or “Junebug”. He does have his “Poindexter” plush that he’s had since he was 19, but Fidds does win him a really big Duck plush when the fair comes to Gravity Falls. He has some sippy cups because he has a tendency to tilt the cup all the way up and pour his drink all down his face and clothes. He really only has some footie pajamas for when it gets to be winter up there. It’s not easy to come by someone who will custom make clothes in gravity falls, especially nothing like the kind of clothes Stan wants. So he mostly settles for some softer clothing with fun designs and patterns. Nothing vibrant that’ll hurt his eyes. Sweats and grandma sweaters mostly. Fidds makes sure he has a lot of paper and coloring books with as many crayons and markers as he wants. He loves to color and draw. He also has some blocks, a lite brite for when the lights needs to be off so his eyes can rest, play doh, and fighting robots to name a few. He has a few story books that Fidds will read to him. Fidds wants to spoil him, but he knows that he can’t buy Stan everything he wants to, so he does what he can (for now…)

If Ford is his caregiver (we’re doing Grunkle Ford for now) then he is going to do his best to spoil Stan with all he wants as much as possible. From buying stuff online (the internet is marvelous!) to making/inventing it. Ford’s got Stan enough pacifiers stashed around the ship and later shack to have a different one every day. He’s getting Stan sippy cups of all kinds of patterns and designs. it’s easier than cups for him if he’s got dentures since he likes to take those out. He’s got one bottle for the times he’s feeling extra small. He’s got some nice and warm footie pajamas for when they’re in the Arctic, and some lighter ones for more general use-sometimes his brother just needs a lazy day where he can wear what’s basically pajamas. Those kinds of footies are going to be the kind that are animal themed with the ears and tails-Ford thinks they’re so cute. He’s also got some nautical themes pajama sets for the summers spent in Gravity Falls. That’s not even accounting for all the soft handmade sweaters Stan’s got from Mabel that he wears-his favorite having dinos on it-and the soft pants and shorts he feels more comfortable wearing now that his secrets out in the open. I’ve already mentioned Poindexter, that’s a staple for any kind of regressed Stanley, and I mentioned in a few posts Shanklin 2, the stuffed Opposum Ford gets Stan after finding out he’s barely got any Little stuff. He will give Stan all the toys he had back in Jersey and all the toys he’s ever wanted. Legos, blocks, slinkies, playdoh, etch n sketches, fighting robots, hard to break tea sets, coloring books, fancy crayons (This is art, it deserves the best!), anything Stan looks twice at really. He goes a bit overboard, but he’s just trying to make up for all the years he’s missed out on. Also Goodnight Moon, can’t forget that book. That’s Stan’s favorite out of the multitude of books Ford reads to him.

Now if it’s just Stan regressing by himself? He only allows himself the bare minimum. He has Poindexter, an old onesie he allowed himself to buy a few years beforehand, and old and worn pacifier, some crayons, coloring books, blank paper, Ford’s old coat that he likes to wrap around himself when he misses him, a sippy cup, and Goodnight Moon. He feels guilty letting himself indulge. He feels ashamed to be acting like that, a child, to be needing his paci and sippy cup, even in the privacy of his own home, even though he can’t help it. So without anyone there to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge or to spoil himself like he is when he’s being taken care of.

[winwintea]

dreamies as your disney world boyfriend

pairing ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader author's note ▸ i am working on the SERIES I PROMISE GUYS... it's just quite long... oops. i needed to channel my inner disney for inspiration for this sorry. the prompt seemed to make more sense in my head so i guess it's just, 'dreamies at disney' now lol. ALSO SOME DISNEY TERMINOLOGY in there i apologize. should make sense but if it's confusing ask me lmfaooo

mark lee

photographer boyfriend obviously 

doesn’t even complain about how many photos you want to take

is actually dying inside but hides it away with dad jokes to cope with the pain

“it’s not even noon yet and dis-knees are killing me bro” 

will only complain about the heat 

“It’s like we’re on the surface on the sun dude… like satan’s armpit. that’s crazzzzyy.”

you couldn’t help but laugh

but then he just KEPT GOING

“it’s like we’re in the inside of a mouth… there are things sticking to things that-” 

and you cut him off right there.

can’t help the fact that bro is a D1 yapper.

will not wear mickey ears though no matter how much you beg him to :(  

favorite ride: slinky dog dash

least favorite ride: dumbo

huang renjun

the boyfriend that actually disney bounds with you

so y’all are disney bounding as nick wilde and judy hopps from zootopia (renjun’s idea)

chenle took him to shanghai disney once, so he’s a big fan of duffy and friends

oh how disappointed he was when he realized that the mascots don’t exist in WDW

“preferred parking? i would prefer parking to be free, thank you very much.” 

mood is very sour upon entering

“i know you’re cold but i did tell you to bring a jacket.” rude.

however once you two start collecting your first character signature he’s locked in

somehow more excited to meet the characters than the kids are? (ur 24. reality check!)

he gets more into it as the day goes on

YOU BET HE’S WEARING THE MICKEY EARS. 

although he already had fox ears on to begin with anyways

favorite ride: mickey & minnie’s runaway railway

least favorite ride: seven dwarfs mine train (it was too short)

lee jeno

foodie boyfriend 

wants a turkey leg like really badly 

“that guy has a turkey leg… sir- um sir- where did you get that turkey leg”

you have to bribe this man with food.

which honestly is okay by you because you just wanna take photos of the food.

"yknow with this ride being 50 years old, you'd think they could've made the boats a little bigger. have to man spread now" 

whatever you’re thinking of, that’s literally not what he meant. 

he’s an innocent lil guy. (seriously, it just came out wrong.)

holds ur hand on all rides. 

let’s you grab onto his muscles arms while you are nervous on the thrill rides

no mickey ears though. (it’s the bow that always throws them off)

favorite ride: rise of the resistance 

least favorite ride: teacups

lee haechan

out of pocket boyfriend who will not stfu

“bambi’s the only movie i really couldn’t watch… i could not be as strong as bambi” 

after you give him the, “wtf” look he just continues. on.

“cause if my mom died well… there goes my friend group.”

will randomly start singing disney songs in the middle of waiting for a ride. 

in those show/ride/attractions he’s the only one clapping and screaming. 

especially true for the beauty and the beast sing-a-long attraction, cause yknow he’s gonna scream his lungs out.

yeah he’ll wear mickey ears, but you bought him a goofy hat instead. It was more fitting.

“can’t believe disney made a character after me… should i sue?”

also complains a lot. way too much.

“EPCOT? more like every person comes out tired.”

favorite ride: pirates of the caribbean (he kept making a booty joke over and over again)

least favorite ride: toy story midway mania (bc he lost)

na jaemin

hardcore boyfriend photographer (pt 2) + ‘mom’ boyfriend

man knows all your best angles and where to take photos

“picture, picture over here… yes yes right… in front of the castle angel. oh that’s so pretty… in… in… down… up… okay! smile!”

you two spend like half the day taking photos, jaemin needs to show off his gf ofc.

cares for you the whole entire day, makes sure you drink enough water

aggressively refills your waterbottles every second he gets. 

“when it doubt, chug it out! (cue jaemin chugging his own bottle)

he unfortunately will not wear mickey ears. (jaemin i believed in you.)

he’s not the one being taken photos of, so no mickey ears for him.

“princess i don’t wanna hear it. the humidity is good for you. this is like nature’s pore declogging.”

favorite ride: frozen ever after

least favorite ride: none (bc he did everything with u <3)

zhong chenle

in between buying you everything and calling everything too expensive boyfriend

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A MEMBERSHIP WITH CLUB 33.

this man pulls you into that sus green building on main street, and your jaw drops.

club 33, is an exclusive, membership only restaurant at disney. it’s like an elite society filled with rich upper class, but at disney. (never been inside not sure how to describe it but oh boy is membership expensive.) the waitlist got so long in 2007, they closed it for 5 years. look it up on wikipedia disney lore goes hard

“i just asked a couple of friends, and they recommended me this place.” boy.

you’re panicking because you’re severely underdressed. (you’re in a jessie costume.)

he reassures you, since you’re at disney, and being dressed like this is normal.

once u have one of the most expensive meals of ur life, chenle drags u to every single thrill ride.

he also buys you a balloon and a bubble wand <3

but for some reason when you arrive at the gift shop he realizes he’s spent a lot.

“okay enough gift shop. look away from the gift shop. this vacation already has us in poverty.”

AND BRO ACTS LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TRIP IM NOT KIDDING.

he’ll buy you a nice meal at one of the restaurants and then…

“we’re not getting churros they’re 5 dollars.”

no mickey ears either why do you even ask

“next time i’ll take u to shanghai, it’s better okay?”

favorite ride: tower of terror

least favorite ride: it’s a small world after all

park jisung

anti-disney everything boyfriend

gets frustrated at everything. cannot read the map.

when he goes on small world…

he severely questions his mental sanity. like actually guys i think he needs help.

“this ride is for kids.” 

the ride in question: the barnstormer! a 40 second kiddie roller coaster that has top speeds of up to 25mph!

literally jisung’s 13 reason. 

he was screaming his little heart out poor baby.

“I’m not wearing those. Stop.” you do not stop. “Take these off of me right now.”

he wears the ears for half of the day though so a win is a win.

“we’re going to the other park? we’re not going home? there’s 3 more??????”

favorite ride: none

least favorite ride: all

[marvelobsessed134]

Love Me Tender Part One: the meeting

Series masterlist

Pairings: 60s!rockstar!bucky x innocent!fem!reader

Warnings: nervous reader, charming Bucky, societal expectations of the time period, men being men ig idk, mentions of drugs, hint of WandaNat/time period homophobia (sorry)

It was around 9 o’clock when the party was in full swing. You sat in the large Palm Springs mansion living room around starlets and musicians alike. You didn’t know why your father dragged you here but you have a pretty good idea. He’s been trying to find you a husband for weeks now ever since you turned 18. He said that as soon as a woman is a legal adult she must find a husband. Which you don’t really mind you just hope this guy-whoever he may be-is nice.

You spotted Natasha Romanoff across the room in all glamour. The redheads perfectly curled hair, her black slinky dress, red lips and nails. She was talking to Wanda Maximoff. The two of them seemed pretty close, almost too close but no one said anything.

You’re wearing a floor length cream colored gown with your hair in a beehive hairstyle. You’ve been obsessed with those fashion magazines that show the latest trends.

Your makeup perfect, with thick eyeliner, pale pink lips, little rosy cheeks. It was no doubt the men there were staring at you. You are fresh meat.

Looking down at your feet, you saw a shadow loom over you. You looked up to see a rather handsome man, steal blue eyes, dark hair. He could only be the one and only Bucky Barnes. Of course you know him, everyone knows him. you have a bunch of his records in your collection at home.

“Um…hi?” You asked nervously realizing how much bigger he was than you.

“Hi, darlin’. Noticed you sitting over here alone what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked. He had a bit of a southern drawl considering the fact he’s from somewhere in the south.

You blushed, “Um yeah. I’ve been dragged here by my father he’s been trying to get my hitched ever since my 18th birthday.”

“Oh? You just turned 18?”

“Y-yeah.” You chuckled nervously.

“Well you’re mighty beautiful for a young lady like you. I’d outta take you out for dinner.”

“Really? But I’m just kind of boring I don’t want to bore you…” you looked down shyly again.

The rockstar put his fingers under your chin and made you look back up at him, the action giving you butterflies. “Baby you are anything but boring and I’ve barely met you.” Just then your father came up behind him.

“Ah, I see you’ve met my Y/n.” He said.

Bucky turned to your father, “Mr. L/n wow what a pleasure to be in your presence.”

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Barnes. Me and my daughter are big fans of ya.”

The two men chatted for a bit before Bucky brought up the fact he wanted to take you on a date. “That would be nice wouldn’t it Y/n?” Your father said. You smiled and nodded with a blush.

“Y/n. What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” The brunette commented making you blush even more.

“Here’s our house number go ahead and give us a call. Me and Y/n better get out of here before the drugs come out.”

“Yes, I will definitely call you. Thank you Mr. L/n.” He turned to you, “goodnight, Y/n.” And he disappeared into the crowd.

You went home that daydreaming about the rockstar, and having some very impure thoughts about him.

[suugarbabe]

Love your writing! Could you do a Theodore Nott and best friend reader who he is head over heels for but is too scared to admit his feelings. Mattheo knows how he feels and at a party or something like the Yule ball he brings her as his date to mess with him. Probably leads to a small fight with the boys but results in Theodore confessing to her and maybe some smut as well.

Love a little shy and angry Theo

You and Pansy seemingly walked into a conversation, nay argument, between Theo and Mattheo. As soon as the boys noticed you two, Mattheo made a b-line straight for you.

"Hello, darling," Mattheo greeted you, cocky smile on full display. You chanced a glance at Pansy as you rolled your eyes. She wore a smirk and raised her eyebrows as if to say 'play along I guess'.

"Hi, Matty. Something I could help you with?" You gave him a dazzling smile of your own.

Mattheo ran his tongue along the front of his teeth, eyeing you up and down, "Would you do me the absolute pleasure of going to the Ravenclaw party with me tonight?"

You shifted your weight, jutting a hip out and tapping your chin like you were thinking about your answer, "Can I wear whatever I want?" You stood straight now, putting your hands behind your back and batting your eyelashes at the dark haired man.

Mattheo gave you a dimpled smile, "Go naked for all I care, love." You smirked at him, pecking his cheek, "Perfect. See you tonight." You grabbed Pansy's hand and pulled her toward your dorms.

As you disappeared up the steps Mattheo returned to where Theo sat. "You gonna tell me what the bloody hell that was, Riddle?" Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend, "I told you, Nott. If you don't go after what you want, someone else will. Tonight, that someone is me."

In your room you and Pansy were having a similar conversation.

"I thought you were in to Theo," Pansy laid back on your bed, popping Bertie Botts in to her mouth as you dug through your trunk for the perfect dress.

You held up a slinky green piece with diamond straps, "Gotcha." You smiled to yourself as you stood, tossing the dress on your bed next to Pansy. She held it up, "Definitely slutty."

"Thank you," you smiled, shimmying off your school skirt and unbuttoning your blouse, "and I do like Theo, but he's being a bloody idiot. I thought maybe he didn't like me, but Mattheo just proved me wrong."

Pansy quirked an eyebrow as you pulled the dress over your head, "Little help with the straps, Pans?" She stood behind you, adjusting the diamond straps until the appropriate pattern was revealed. You turned to face her, giving her a twirl before she crossed her arms, waiting for your further explanation.

You huffed, mirroring her body language, "I know you've told Draco that I like Theo, which means that Draco told Mattheo because Draco can't keep anything to himself. SO Mattheo wouldn't ask me to a party when he knew I was pining after his best friend. Unless..."

"Unless Theo was being a huge pussy," Pansy nodded her head in full understanding. You smiled a devilish smile at her, glad your friend was able to piece it all together.

At the party you were giving Theo a full on show. You didn't let Mattheo in on your knowledge of the situation, but he seemed to be playing the role you wanted him to perfectly none the less.

With a decent amount of drinks your hips found a rhythm against Mattheo, your ass pressed firmly against his crotch as you both swayed to the music. You chanced a glance near the drink table where you knew Theo was essentially rooted.

His eyes were glued to your form, hand crushing the red cup in his grip and tossing it to the floor before stalking towards you and Mattheo. As he got closer, you opened your mouth to stop him but when you saw a fist flying you quickly stepped out of the way.

Theo's fist connected with Mattheo's jaw, which only made the latter pause for a second, a smirk gracing his face. Mattheo reared his fist back, fully planning to punch Theo back when suddenly both boys were frozen.

You took a step forward, wand outstretched, "That's enough." You lowered your wand, glaring at the small crowd that was forming before they quickly dispersed. You grabbed Theo by the wrist, dragging him out of the Ravenclaw common room and to the tower steps.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" For once you were looking down at Theo, him on the steps below you. Theo huffed, turning his head to look at his feet.

You were frustrated, not able to help nearly shouting at him, "Theodore Tiberius Nott, look at me right now."

Theo's eyes snapped to yours instantly, "I-I'm sorry," he started, "I don't...don't know what came over me." He looked down at his hands briefly before looking you in the eyes again, "Why did you come with him?"

You placed a hand on Theo's cheek, "Because the guy I wanted never did."

Theo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "I'm an idiot aren't I?" You laughed lightly, "Maybe just a little." You smiled, turning to place a gentle kiss on your palm.

"Go back in with me?" he asked, blue eyes full of remorse. You shook your head, "I think," you leaned down, giving a chaste kiss on the lips, "that maybe we should go to the after party."

You started down the stairs, Theo turning confused, "Where's the after party?" Without turning around you answered him, "In my room." This time Theo didn't hesitate before following quickly behind you.

[talenlee]

do you have any thoughts on how (if at all) the Toy Story films impacted how children play with their toys?

Yeah, quite a bit.

Toy Story is a 1995 animated feature film by Pixar Studios, distributed by Disney, that serves as one of those iconic examples of early 3d Animation that ‘holds up’ over time by people who haven’t gone back and looked at any of the humans in it. With the voice talents of Tom Hanks and Tim Toolman, it follows the narrative of a pull-string cowboy doll competing with a kung-fu action grip spaceman toy for the attention of their gigantically towering owner, whom they must never allow to know that they live, breath, and know his name.

For kids!

Look, classic yada yada, groundbreaking yada yada, wholesome yada yada. I actually got to see this one while inside a controlled christian media bubble, and if tomorrow I found out all copies of it had been deleted I would react like that ‘oh no, anyway,’ meme. It is not a movie for which I have an enormous amount of affection. I don’t want to talk to you about the narrative, though, not of Wilson’s Best Friend negotiating with the Last Man Standing about which of them will be more validated by an actual literal child and the ontological questions of why aren’t the parts of Mr Potato Head independently alive?

I want to talk to you about the humans of Toy Story. Specifically, about Andy, and Sid, and the weird world they live in, and the weird world they’ve created.

Andy’s a weird kid.

Andy’s a weird kid, in this specific case, because of the toys he loves.

Andy’s collection of toys features a lot of things that were, for want of better phrasing, are old. Plastic army men, Mr Potato Head, metal slinky dogs. In 1995, none of that stuff looked like the heavily branded, overmerchandised toys I was used to. Kid didn’t own any legos? No rainbow vomit coloured plastic slinky?

Sure, my collection had some old toys in it. That was because I was poor, and we got a lot of toys from the Salvation Army story or second hand from the throwouts in the church charity bins.

Thing is, as toys, Woody and Buzz aren’t really like the toys I was interested in during the 1990s. Cowboys weren’t cool. Cowboys were old. Cowboys were shown on TV in largely black and white. Cowboys were always about being sour and mad and long periods of nothing happening and nobody did a single kick flip and there weren’t any ninjas. Buzz Lightyear looked extremely embarrassing, and not like the kids’ toys of the time. He didn’t transform, he was big and chunky and not an action figure. Lords knows he wasn’t going to stand up to either GI Joe or Action Man. The scale was all fucked up, he clearly cost a lot, and we never saw signs of playsets or vehicles in the movie.

Though I say that, and you know what he did look a lot like, size wise? GI Joe. Not my GI Joe, from the 1990s, which were the size of my thumbs and cost five dollars so you could army-build. Original GI Joe, from the 1960s, which was a much taller toy, literally a foot tall. You know, like how tall Buzz Lightyear is.

My point is: Buzz Lightyear is not a 90s toy. He was a toy that looked like a boomer’s toys. Andy, a child created to fit in 1995, in a large expensive home with lots of toys, has lots of old toys. Andy has toys that speak to growing up in the sixties, with one toy that’s meant to be a toy of the 90s that’s still kinda not.

But now those toys are iconic kids’ toys, now, because Toy Story became a classic, and people who saw it as kids had kids and shared it with their kids. That is, the parents saw Toy Story and went ‘oh that’s fine for my kids,’ then those kids passed on Toy Story to their kids, and so on and now thanks to it being interdimensional meme cryptid’s extended tentacles into our reality, Woody and Buzz are now iconic kid’s toys that rely on being this sort of post-packaged boomer nostalgia.

That’s the wildest thing. The combination of Andy’s wealth and diversity of toys (why do you have a ceramic Bo Peep statue?)  creates this weird impression of Andy being somehow a child with vintage toys that represent taste thirty years older than him. If Andy was poor and isolated it’d make a ton of sense for him to have all these old toys and none of the newest, coolest toys, like Sid has.

I’ve written about Sid in the past, in part because I think he’s the only character in the entire universe I have any real fondness for.

Well okay, maybe Rex.

Anyway, Sid’s poor? Like, his house, next door to Andy’s, is grungy and grimy and there’s a question about how Andy’s house is so nice and clean and fancy and Sid’s is basically a hell dungeon, but in hindsight it’s kind of hard to look at it and not see it as classic Disney Fisher King stuff. You know, the way that when Scar ruled Pride Rock, there was a drought, and the second Scar was replaced by Simba, there was rain. In this case, Sid, being bad, has a house that’s full of Badness, and Andy, being a good kid, has a good house.

But Sid is signalled as being poor. Everything in the house is grungy and secondhand, and he’s constantly playing with toys that have been discarded or lost, and he modifies them. Sid is curious and creative and yes, destructive, and he’s destructive of things that, as far as he knows until the movie decides to massively traumatise him, are just toys.

Like, think about that. Sid damages and messes with toys but he uses that to make other toys, to make things he plays with. His play is seem as scary and traumatising, because… what? Because he violates the ‘proper’ image of the toy. The toy that is not properly preserved, the toy that is torn in pieces and put together again is seen as somehow violated because it is no longer’ right.’ The implication there unstated is that toys are ‘right’ when they are sold to you, and when you change them from that product, they are ‘wrong.’

Sid’s sin is making his own toys, and he is punished by the avatar of a multinational company that will sell you toys that are right.

There’s this fun story beat, where in Toy Story 3, you find that Sid is now a garbage collector. You can see him wearing the same shirt, and dancing happily as he collects trash. In the garbage dump in that movie, you’ll find there are also no toys, which creates the strange question of how things get that way. A story that explains this, a story I like, is that Sid, with the skills he has with toys, took the job as a garbage collector to rescue these tiny sentient creatures from humanity discarding them and is running some sort of toy game preserve in his home. After all, he is, as far as we know, the only human aware that toys are alive.

And he’s the asshole, not the seeming adults who traumatise a kid for playing with toys. Sid, after all, doesn’t play nice.

Source.

[nina-renmen]

So um.... hi!

I was wondering if I could request some hurt/comfort with Miguel o'hara?

Maybe he gets hit with a spell from a sorcerer anomaly and he collapses? Or maybe he's struggling on a mission and is bleeding out and just can't keep his eyes open? It doesn't really matter which one you choose, but I really would like a happy ending, if that's ok!

Thank you so much for your time, have a wonderful day/night!

Ps. You can call me Slinky anon!

Of course Slinky Anon! Thank you for requesting! I hope I wrote this like how you imagined.

Warnings: angst but ends in fluff, mentions of blood/bleeding out, Fem reader, reader has to cut herself. I used a translator so I apologize if my Spanish is completely off.

Summary: Miguel always hid his feelings from you. That is until he’s knocking on deaths door and the chance arises.

Miguel waited impatiently, as y/n followed him. It was raining and even though Miguel’s suit protected him from the rain, Y/n’s suit wasn’t as durable.

Miguel hopped up on the building, Y/n following him with ease, but unfortunately she wasn’t as fast as he had liked. “Y/n, would you just hurry up-“

A whizzing sound could be heard, y/n’s spidey senses tingled and she dodged what looked like green smoke. Unfortunately, Miguel wasn’t as lucky. The green smoke turned out to be acid, practically tearing a hole in him. Y/n and Miguel seemed frozen in place as Miguel touched his stomach. Blood…Why was there so much damn blood?

Miguel felt dizzy, collapsing already. He was loosing blood as the acid ate away at his flesh. Y/n Looked over at the anomaly and quickly used her webs, pulling it over to her and reeling her fist back. The anomaly wasn’t strong at all, in fact it was a sorcerer. It’s downfall was it relying on long distance combat, never once thinking that someone would be able to get their hands on it.

As Y/n struggled holding it down, Miguel kept attempting to stop the bleeding. But putting pressure on it only seemed to singe his hand. Maybe this was supposed to happen…Was he really going to die like this?

A bone crushing noise erupted throughout the muggy air. The sorcerer Anomaly laid limp on the ground, its head slightly split open from Y/n’s abuse. Standing up with Bloody knuckles y/n sprinted over to Miguel, sliding over to him and gently pulling his hands away to look at the damage.

She winced slightly hearing his skin make a slight cream sound as she pulled his hands away. It already ate through the first three layers. Even if y/n brought him back he wasn’t going to make it in time. The only thing she could do is what Miguel forbid her from doing.

“No y/n…Don’t do it.” Miguel whispered as his mask slowly came off. Y/n pulled out a knife, ever since she was bit by that radioactive spider her blood could reverse anything that was internal.

“What else do you expect me to do?” Y/n asked taking off her mask. “I won’t let you die-“

Miguel grabbed y/n’s wrist, stopping her from cutting herself. “I can’t have you dying from blood loss-“

“And if I don’t do this you’ll die.” Y/n shook off his hand. Miguel was too weak to struggle back. The acid would reach his stomach soon, and if that happened there would be nothing she could do. He’s burn alive from the inside, and she’d have to do a mercy kill.

Lifting up her hand, Y/n made a deep cut as the red, crimson liquid seeped out of the back of her hand. Her blood mixing with his. Now she has to wait, and hope that their blood would be compatible. Miguel’s vision seemed to go in and out. “Hey…Hey! Don’t go to sleep Miguel!” Y/n exclaimed, lightly tapping his face to get him to wake back up.

A few seconds later Miguel’s burnt flesh seemed to be building back up again makings Y/n sigh in relief. Using her watch, she presses a few buttons before they were back in HQ.

“What the hell happened?!” Peter exclaimed, seeing Y/n, and Miguel. “We ran into a Sorcerer Anomaly, they had some sort of acid…He’s healing up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Peter nodded, his face full of panic. “O-Okay. Um W-we need [blood type] blood bags! Clean towels A-and an IV. I need everybody to get those things and bring it to the infirmary.” He exclaimed, giving everyone a job before turning to Miguel and picking him up, throwing the large man over his shoulder.

“Thank you y/n….For saving his life.”

Miguel groggily woke up. The bright light irritated his eyes. Miguel slowly sat up, his abdomen felt sore. But other than that he was fine.

“Good…You’re up.” Y/n spoke up from the chair in the corner of the room. Her hand was stitched up and bandaged.

“You-You did exactly what I told you not to do!” Miguel exclaimed, his expression Angry.

“Whoa, Whoah, Whoah! I saved your ass, and this is the thanks I get?!” Y/n stood up, matching his tone. She felt hurt, did he still think that she was incapable?

“That’s not the point! You could have bled out! You could have died!” He yelled back, now standing up.

“And why do you care huh?! I’m just some annoying girl that you brought here to fight!!-“

“I care because I love you!” Miguel heaved.

The room had gone silent. Y/n’s eyes widening as Miguel ran a hand through his hair and sat back on the bed. “I love you alright? That’s why I don’t let you go on missions by yourself…I’m scared you’ll die.” He said softly.

“Miguel I-“

“No…I already know that you don’t return my feelings…If you want to leave then you can. I won’t make you stay here…” Miguel trailed off as Y/n sat next to him, Cupping his face making the larger male look at her.

“I love you too.” Y/n said warmly. “I guess I just hide it well.”

Miguel looked at her, searching for any lies, any deception. But he found none. “But if I’m being honest—Hmph-“

Miguel cut her off, pressing his lips against hers. Practically stealing her breath away. “Promise me…” Miguel Mumbled against her lips before fully pulling away. “Promise me you won’t put yourself in harms way like that again.” He said, in an almost pleasing tone. “Promise me Mi cariño.”

Y/n pressed her forehead against his. “I promise.”

[tinas1469]

Zendaya Stole the Show in a Schiaparelli Lobster Skirt

Hang it in the Louvre.

Thanks to the now-settled WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes, promo-tour fashion is back on schedule, and who better than the fashion icon whose wardrobe is always bold and never boring to make her return? Ladies and gentlemen, Zendaya.

On Sunday, the actress stepped out promoting Dune at Comic-Con Experience São Paulo in Brazil, donning a monochrome Schiaparelli look from its Spring-Summer 2024 runway show. Presenting Dune: Part Two alongside her co-stars (Timothée Chalamet, Austin Butler, and Florence Pugh), Zendaya went for sea-creature couture: an ivory plunging collared blouse paired with a slinky, ruched cream maxiskirt, which featured a 3-D fabric lobster (spines, antennas, and all). The design detail paid homage to the Italian house’s founder, Elsa Schiaparelli’s, 1937 lobster dress in collaboration with Salvador Dalí. However, Zendaya's longtime stylist, Law Roach, referred to it as a “sandworm” in regard to Dune’s fictional strange creatures.

Beauty-wise, Zendaya styled her chin-grazing bob with a slicked-back wet look and complimented her radiant glow with feathered lashes, rosy cheeks, and glossy lips. Diamond stud earrings and a pair of optic white pointed-toe heels provided the finishing touches to her winter white look.

The only other person who comes second to us for being in love with Zendaya is her boyfriend, Tom Holland. During a new interview with the SAG-AFTRA Foundation, Holland shared why he goes to her for his acting advice.

"Zendaya is probably the most honest with me," he shared. "Which I love, ‘cause you need that."

Last June, he told The Hollywood Reporter that the pair try to keep their love life as private as possible. "Our relationship is something that we are incredibly protective of, and we want to keep as sacred as possible," he said. "We don't think that we owe it to anyone, it's our thing, and it has nothing to do with our careers."

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

A Date Night HC with Black Mask and F!S/O 🖤

S/O loves to be spoiled and pampered by him. She teases him wearing a dress he likes on their extravagant date night to a high-end restaurant ... There will be a few surprises from him too :3c S/O is his enabler and lets him get away with a lot of his behaviour, and up to mischief herself.

"It's a good thing we pay so much to eat here, or they might actually kick us out-" Black Mask x F!S/O (Valentine's Event 2024)

Oh god don't enable him, he's already impossible. This ask is for the ongoing Valentine's Day Event!

TW: Suggestive, NSFW, fingering

Valentine's Day. The perfect excuse for an obnoxiously extra date night to show off to everyone else. No matter how far Roman got away from his roots, some things never changed. He was better than everyone else, as were you. Certainly one of the best parts for having a girlfriend like you was his ability to show that in public.

It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that you could have almost anything you wanted. When you didn't ask for much, he made it a mission to spoil you. Spa days, special treats here and there- You deserve it, you put up with his shit, after all. Seeing how much you enjoyed it just eggs him on.

So tonight he let you know exactly where he was taking you. Some high end place he's put a lot of money into for under the table deals. Tells you that you can pick whatever dress you want, but the panties? He's got those set out. Black and lacy, with stockings he pictures rolling up your thighs. Why wouldn't you take the opportunity to fuck with him back? A slinky number you knew got him hot when he saw it. Just a little too short and accentuated your body in all the right places.

You could hear the sharp, huffing inhale through his mask when he first saw you come out. You could feel how firmly he had his hand on your inner thigh while riding in the car, then how it moved to the small of your back as you entered the restaurant. He'd been quiet other than small talk. Telling the waiter to take you to "his" table.

He then forced his way to sit next to you, hand back on your thigh and creeping up, "You think you're fuckin' cute, huh?"

"Adorable, thank you for asking." The calm facade on your face flickered only for a second as his pinky moved up and down the front of the lingerie between your legs.

His gaze was intense, even when the waiter came back to ask for your order. It was then he ordered for you. Expensive. Something you definitely wanted but might not order on your own due to the price or the fuss of it. And a bottle of something old and fancy. His hand never left it's place until you moved it.

"Since you seem to like these so much..." You found yourself hiking up the dress almost to your hips. Another patron happened to look over... and quickly look away when they found Black Mask glaring back at them. And there in your hands was your now removed panties, which he snatched away to tuck in his pocket.

The wine was brought to the table, then... along with a box. He made a motion with his hand to you, "Happy Valentine's Day, doll."

Then, as you opened it- It was a bright red teddy bear... with a bracelet. The bracelet itself wasn't anything crazy. Yet you recognized it as one you'd been admiring a month ago. You hadn't asked for it. Yet he remembered the way you'd looked at it and decided you needed to have it.

"Allow me." He was already taking it off the bear and putting it on your wrist, "Yeah. Suits you just right."

"I... Thank you-"

"Don't say anything about making it up. You're gonna make it up right now." He's leaning to your ear before his hand tucks between your thighs, "Open up."

Before you could really respond beyond giving more space for his hand, he was plunging a finger inside. Praising you for being wet. Drinking his wine in his other hand as if he wasn't making you writhe. His palm pressed against your clit, making one smooth movement of penetration and stimulation. When someone walked by, he'd add another finger or push harder to get you to moan.

By the time the food came out, he had you on the edge. Yet he pulled away. The plates hit the table and he was licking his fingers. Looking at you knowingly. A little appetizer for himself.

Then he was cutting into his steak as if nothing happened, "We'll continue this later."

It was delicious, there was no question. Both you and your partner were taking small bites. Enough to assuage the hunger- You'd both be taking leftovers and finishing after certain events that night. He almost laughed when the waiter asked if you wanted dessert.

"Nah, fuck off. Give us the check."

It would have seemed the two of you were on the same page. Until, at least, you were leaving the building. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something black fall from Roman's pocket and hit the ground. He was already pushing you forward before you could turn around. Your mouth agape as you realized just what your partner intentionally dropped on the floor of the fucking public restaurant.

"Sir, you dropped your-" a waiter paled as he found himself picking up your recently worn underwear.

"Yeah, thanks kid." Roman sneered behind the mask, "She was just telling me she was feeling cold." He held them up to you, knowing you were going to snatch them from his grip.

It was in the moment you didn't know if you wanted to fuck him or kill him. To be determined.

[fe-fictions]

I can't believe I have to post about this a second time in a year, but I have another sick kitty...

We lost our senior cat Henry in February, it was just time for him to go. He was a handsome and wonderful 14 years old, and had been with us since we were children.

And not long after we lost him, my sibling and I (we live together) decided the apartment was just too empty without him...we were missing the warmth and the joy that a sweet kitty cat brought with him.

So we each adopted our very own cats; a handsome long-haired 3 month old boy named Gojo, and a beautiful short-haired 5 month old girl named Luisa.

Luisa is my baby girl. She was born in September, the same month as me, and she's my whole world. But the last few days, she's been eating less, playing less, and getting more and more docile and lethargic.

I took her to the emergency vet today because she wasn't eating at all and was hiding since yesterday morning. He told me that she had an auto immune disorder, and was extremely anemic.

He gave me three options; try steroids and antibiotics, see if she responds to them, or they could hospitalize her and give her a blood transfusion, which was way, way too expensive...if I had the money I would've done it in a heartbeat, and it breaks my heart to think that I could've done more for her if I had a better job and could provide for my baby more. And the third option was to put her to sleep there, because her odds were slim.

I chose the option to get her medication, which was a quarter the cost of a hospitalization, and he assured me typically saw really good results, but that sometimes it would take a few days or a week or two before seeing improvement.

I gave her the first dose as soon as we got home, got her set up in my room, but she's still not eating, won't go to the bathroom, and I'm just really, really worried that I'm gonna have to say goodbye to her, before she's even a year old.

I'm just not ready to say goodbye again. Twice in the same year, two of my sweet babies. I am not ready to do that again. It happened so fast. The shelter I got her at likely had no idea she was sick; she showed no signs of it until just a few days ago. I hate that she's so fragile, and that I can't do enough for her. It's just crushing.

I want to try and focus on the positive, and hope that she's gonna pull through in the next few days. I'm just so sad, because it wasn't that long ago I saw this behavior in a dying cat. I know what it looks like, I felt it, I could see it. And I'm not ready to do that again.

I was supposed to have at least ten years with this slinky little baby. I don't want to believe that I'm gonna have to say goodbye to her. I won't know for at least a few days; but if she stops eating and she can't go to the bathroom, I don't know where to go from there.

I just wanted to vent, I wanted to let you all know that's what I'm dealing with right now. I hope you'll continue to have patience with me, and to those who commissioned art from me, I'm gonna work hard to get it done ASAP since it's already been a while, and I just need to do something to keep my mind off of what's going on right now.

But yeah. That's what's going on at this moment, and so if I sort of disappear for a little while or my posts go a while without anything, that's why.

Thanks for being so sweet, you guys are such a wonderful group of fellow FE enthusiasts and I love writing for you all. It's without a doubt the group of the friendliest and sweetest people I've ever run into; whenever awful things were going on, IRL or online, I would always come here because the drama or the stressful mess would never reach it; this place is my little safe haven haha

So thank you for being here, and thank you for listening and for your patience! I'll do everything I can to keep up.

- chiyo

[childrenofhurinbut]

Incorrect quotes starring my Doriath trio (Beleg, Turin, Mablung)

(Yes they have a special place in my heart, no I won't apologise for dumbposting about them)

Turin: Thanks for not telling Beleg what happened.

Mablung, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.

Mablung: I feel like Turin is looking down on me.

Beleg: That’s because he's on the counter and you’re short.

Beleg: If you had to choose between Turin and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Mablung: That depends, how much money are we talking about?

Turin: Mablung!

Beleg: 63 cents.

Mablung: …I’ll take the money.

Turin: MABLUNG!!!

Mablung: Turin, Beleg, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in Mandos are you doing?

Turin, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that Beleg is sitting atop: Oh nothing much.

Beleg: I love you too :)

Turin: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Mablung: Wasn’t Beleg with you?

Beleg: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Turin: Why does Mablung always do the laundry so loudly?

Beleg: So everyone knows that no one helps him out in the house.

Mablung, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

Beleg: We're having a baby.

Turin: Oh, congradu-

Mablung, slamming adoption papers onto the table: It's you, sign here.

Mablung: I'm not doing to well.

Beleg: What's wrong?

Mablung: I have this headache that comes and goes.

*Turin enters the room*

Mablung: There it is again.

Turin: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Beleg: The cow??

Turin: What?

Mablung: Beleg, W H Y?

Turin: Everyone thinks I'm this soft cute person but I'm not!

Beleg: Turin, you cried for an hour after stepping on a bug yesterday.

Turin: It had feelings! It was probably going home to dinner and I killed it!

Mablung: ...It was a bug.

Turin: It was a BEETLE, and its wife is definitely worried sick, wondering where it is, and I really don't get why you all think I'm so sentimental because I'm not!

Beleg: ...

Mablung: ...

Turin: Stop looking at me like that!

Beleg: Guess what?

Mablung: What?

Beleg: No, you have to guess.

Mablung, thinking: I don’t know.

Beleg: Turin is in the hospital.

Mablung: Why would you make me guess that?!

Mablung: What happened?!

Turin: Some people are like slinkies.

Beleg: What?

Turin: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

Beleg:

Beleg: Please don't push Mablung down the stairs.

Turin, pushing Mablung down the stairs: Too late.

Beleg: Mablung isn't talking to me.

Turin: Enjoy it while it lasts.

Beleg: Turin is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind.

Mablung: Girls?

Turin: Homicide.

Beleg: Hey, Turin?

Turin: Yeah?

Beleg: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Turin:

Turin: Where’s Mablung?

Beleg: Okay, how do I cook? Be honest.

Turin: There’s no critic more honest than Mablung!

Mablung: Bad.

Mablung: Why would you give a knife to Turin?!

Beleg, shrugging: Turin felt unsafe.

Mablung: Now I feel unsafe!

Beleg: I’m sorry…

Beleg: Would you like a knife?

Beleg: Now, Turin, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay?

Mablung: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

Turin: Hey, Mablung, have you thought about having children?

Mablung: ...

Mablung: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

Turin: But we're not childr-

Mablung, already distracted: BELEG, PUT THE FIRE DOWN!

Turin: I hate Saeros.

Beleg: "Hate' is a strong word.

Turin: I have strong opinions.

Beleg: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Turin: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues?

Mablung: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Beleg: Would you slap Mablung-

Turin: Yes.

Beleg: I didn't even finish!

Turin: Sorry, continue.

Beleg: Would you slap Mablung for 10 dollars?

Turin: I would do it for free.

Mablung: Rude...

[ejzah]

Got inspired after watching the early season 1 episode, Past Lives. Could you write a fanfic where based on previous experiences, Kensi doesn't like flowers, but finally she starts to love them again when she begins to fall in love with Deeks.

I Hope He Buys You Flowers

***

February 2011

“What the hell is this?” Kensi demanded, upon walking into the bullpen and finding a light pink rose with a fine spray of baby’s-breath surrounding it.

In Kensi’s opinion, gifts of flowers never meant anything good. They were for apologies. For illness and death.

The house had been filled with flowers, buckets and wreaths and vases of the things when her dad died. When she was 19, her boyfriend before she met Jack gave her flowers and then she found out he liked another girl. She’d brought them to a few friends who were sick, or colleagues injured enough to land a stay in the hospital.

Flower gardens of course were an entirely different matter. She loved the idea of growing daisies, and moss roses, dahlias, and had even attempted to grow a few of her favorites in the past with predictably disastrous results.

Being give flowers though? No, she wasn’t really a fan. Especially when they were laying on her desk.

“No idea,” Callen answered her, sounding amused as she gingerly picked the little covering up between two fingers. “It was here when I came in.” Sam just shook his head.

“The flowers are courtesy of your favorite LAPD liaison,” Deeks announced grandly, coming from the direction of the stairs.

“You bought me a rose,” Kensi repeated.

“Yeah, and Nell and Hetty.” He tilted his head towards Callen and Sam. “Sorry, I didn’t get you guys any, cause I thought you might find it weird.”

“And we appreciate that,” Sam said.

Kensi sighed, already over the banter. “Ok, that still doesn’t answer the why. You know I hate flowers.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Deeks answered simply, like it was perfectly obvious.

“Which was two days ago,” Kensi reminded him.

“Yeah, and now everything is on clearance, flowers included. I always grab a few.” Deeks grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I might even share my Fannie Mae stash if you’re nice.”

“So, you just did this to be nice?” It was a foreign concept, especially when most gifts came with expectations.

“Pretty much,” Deeks said. “But you don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to.”

“No.” Kensi twirled the stem of the rose between her fingers, watching the colors swirl. “It’s ok. Thanks.”

***

July 2012

It had been a sucky, sucky birthday. Their case had run late, requiring Kensi to go undercover in a slinky dress and seduce a complete ass of a guy when all she really wanted to do was go home, eat store bought cake and zone out on Top Model.

She kicked off her shoes as she walked into her apartment, one landing somewhere under the couch, and she tugged her shirt off, leaving her in jeans and a tank top. That movement tweaked her strained ribs, because of course she’d gotten into an altercation with one of the armed guards at her would-be seductee’s mansion.

Thank god Deeks had been there to back her up. Instead of a bullet in the head, she’d come out with mildly bruised ribs and a sore hip. Which still seemed like a poor birthday present.

It would probably be smart to soak in a warm bath for a while, but that seemed like a lot of effort and Kensi was feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Heading straight into the kitchen, she scrounged up a personal frozen pizza—which was only a little frost burnt—a beer, and the rest of a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Carting all of her bounty back into the living room, she tossed it on the coffee table, she turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels. None of her go-to mindless shows were on, so she settled on some procedural that was a little slow paced and way too dramatic instead.

The doorbell rang just as she was about to take a bite of her pizza. Growling under her breath, Kensi pushed herself off the couch with a groan, intent on making the person on the other side of the door regret coming to her apartment.

She looked through the window, frowning when she found no one there, and only an unassuming brown paper bag on the top step. She opened the door cautiously, regarding the bag suspiciously until she found a little note card stapled to the top of the bag.

“Happy birthday, Kensalina. Sorry it wasn’t better,” it read on Deeks’ familiar handwriting.

Rolling her eyes, Kensi carried bag inside, clearing a spot on the table. She pulled out a bouquet of flowers, speckled lilies and small purple roses in the mix, a tiny stuffed koala, and underneath that, a slide of the best looking chocolate cake she’d ever seen.

She set each item on the table and surveyed them with a smile creeping at her lips despite everything. Deeks annoyed the hell out of her sometimes, but then there were times like tonight when he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

Bypassing her now cooled pizza, she popped open the plastic container and dug into the cake.

“Oh my god,” she muttered around a mouthful. Deeks would have a field day over her reaction if he were here. She savored each bite, her eyes drifting over to the bouquet several times.

Maybe flowers weren’t the worst thing in the world.

***

April 2013

“Deeks, pay attention,” Kensi snapped, nudging his shoulder, and interrupting his examination of a leather vest.

“I am,” he protested in a low, unconcerned tone, casting a slow, unassuming look around the market they were casing. To anyone watching, it would hopefully look like he was scoping out which stall he’d go to next.

“You know I like to blend in. We’re supposed to look like a couple enjoying an afternoon shopping.” As if to prove his point, he held up a particularly garish pair of high heels. She pushed them away with an amused grimace.

He continued on his way, easily balancing checking out the wares, chatting with the vendors, and keeping an eye on their surroundings. She admired him for a few seconds, lingering on the way he rested one hand on his hip, one leg extended to the side.

Now was not the time for ogling, she reminded herself. They were on the job. And Deeks would never let her live it down if he realized she was checking him out.

Moving on, she paused in front of a sunglasses stall, fiddling with a few random pairs while she watched a man edging his way through the crowd.

“You got something?” Deeks murmured, silently coming up behind her. He looped his arm around her waist, leaning into her side.

“Just a pickpocket,” Kensi replied. “We’ll have to notify the local security once this is over.” She should have found a reason to call pull away, but instead, she let Deeks lead her back into the main road between stalls, her hand resting on his lower back.

“Here.” Deeks held up a flower with a bluish-purple hue. “It’s not a fern, but it’s the best I could do.”

Kensi took it, taking a deep sniff. It had a light, pleasant smell.

“When did you have time to get this?”

“There’s a little stall over there. The lady grows them all herself.”

Kensi shook her head; of course he’d made friends with the flower lady.

“You know, we’re not actually here to buy stuff,” Kensi said.

“It would look weird if we didn’t.” Deeks eyed her briefly, something playful and definitely not professional flashing in his gaze. “Besides, it matches your top.”

A small rush of pleasure that he’d notice ran through her. For a moment, she wished that they weren’t in the middle of a case, and actually on a date. She pushed that thought down, passing the flower under her nose again.

“You know, flowers aren’t so bad after all,” she said told Deeks as they walked arm-in-arm.

***

A/N: I hope this was alright. I know I didn’t cover the whole length of Kensi and Deeks’ relationship, but I was drawn to start early on.

Title take from the Bruno Mars song “When I was Your Man”.

Thanks for the prompt!

[okdeannawrites]

Kiss game! 9 with 49 and BasicallyFamilyButNot!Jordan x Stiles please?

superfluffycam-blog asked:

Kiss game! 9 with 49 and BasicallyFamilyButNot!Jordan x Stiles please?

Jordan and Stiles kiss in public (9) and out of necessity (49).

Well, this is a first. I’ve never written Jordan and Stiles together before. I’m a Sterek girl, so…a challenge has now commenced!

HOW TO SAVE A LIFE

Jordan Parrish did not panic. He didn’t. He was a calm, even-keeled guy. He didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. He couldn’t afford to as a Sheriff’s deputy in one of the smallest, most dangerous supernatural counties in the west.

But even he felt the panic rising in his chest as he and Stiles pushed through the crowd gathered to watch Beacon Hill’s ball drop on New Year’s Eve. Behind them, he could hear the telltale click of a woman’s high heels. A woman determined to kiss him at midnight and steal the soul right out of his body, if what Stiles said could be believed.

Or maybe it was the hellhound part of him she wanted to steal. Stiles wasn’t too sure on that part. But what he was sure about was that they had to be in public at midnight and make sure someone else kissed him at midnight.

Which meant they had to find the pack in the massive crowd gathered to watch the ball drop, and thus far, they weren’t having much luck pushing to the front despite the deputy uniform he wore.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Jordan asked, hissing at Stiles as he once again tried to push his way through two burly guys who looked like they could bench press both their weights without breaking a sweat.

Stiles nodded, his own panic flittering through his eyes. “Yes. I’m positive that’s what the text said. Deaton even confirmed it for me. It must be in public where other people can see, and it must be at midnight tonight. It’s the only way to get her to stop and make her lose her powers.”

Because apparently, according to lore, if she didn’t get to kiss the prey she’d chosen at midnight, her powers were deemed null and void until the next quarter of a century arose. And with only five minutes left on the clock, they had to find the others before it was too late.

Renewing his push through the crowd, Jordan tried to pinpoint where the others might be but with the crowd still too thick, he knew they weren’t going to make it. He could practically feel the woman’s nails on the back of his neck, despite her still lagging a good ten feet behind them.

Unless she had the power to part the crowd to get to him.

Glancing back, he froze as he realized just how close she’d gotten to them. “Uh, Stiles, I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

Stiles glanced back then stopped, shifted, and all but plastered himself to Jordan’s front. “Change of plans, Parrish. You’re gonna have to kiss me instead.”

“What? Are you crazy? You’re my boss’s son!”

“And if you don’t kiss someone in the next ten seconds, you’re as good as dead.”

Shit. This was not what he signed up for when he moved to this town.  The Sheriff was going to kill him, and that was only after Derek Hale got through with him.

“Stiles—”

The younger man shook his head, took Jordan’s face into his hands, and at the stroke of midnight, kissed him for all he was worth.

It was easily the best and the worst kiss of his entire life. But it had the desired effect, because the second Stiles pulled away from him, they turned as one to realize the woman chasing them was gone, only a single, slinky red gown left in her place.

“I can’t believe that actually worked.”

Stiles turned and grinned at him. “And all it took was a kiss from yours truly. You’re welcome, but, uh, maybe don’t tell my dad about this? He gets kind of testy when I physically assault his deputies.”

Jordan laughed. “Stiles, you saved my life. I think we can keep this one a secret.”

Stiles exhaled in relief and nodded once. “Right. Thanks. And, uh, maybe don’t tell Derek, either? I don’t know how he’d take it and…”

“And you don’t want to screw things up before it has the chance to become something?”

Stiles nodded again, smiling ruefully. “I’m not sure he’ll ever let it get there, but I don’t want him to think this was anything more than me trying to help you.”

“I get it, and don’t worry, he’d get it, too. I’m sure of it.”

Especially since he could see Derek’s face in the crowd just over Stiles’ left shoulder, his eyes burning into him as if warning him to back away. Which Jordan did, quickly and in quick, heavy strides.

“Thanks again, Stiles. I owe you one.”

Stiles grinned. “Hey, what’s a kiss between friends and pseudo family, right?”

Right. Friend. Family. Pack.

What a lucky hellhound he was, to have friends who cared enough to kiss him to save his life. “Let’s just hope it never has to happen again.”

“It won’t. Because next time, we’ll get one of the girls to kiss you. Because no offense, man, but you’re lacking the necessary stubble to make my kissing experience the best it could ever be.” A bold grin accompanied his statement then he was gone, weaving into the crowd to join the others—and somehow finding Derek standing exactly where he shouldn’t have known he would be.

Jordan shook his head and turned, weaving his way back through the crowd to his patrol car. He had a shift to finish, and he prayed it was much less eventful than the rest of it had been.

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER

[crowlixcx]

For the brainrot series - as though you don't have enough requests, but I heard this song again today and the resulting assault on my imagination has irrevocably damaged my sanity, and I had to say something because I will not be suffering alone.

Okay, so, picture this:

Crowley is tired of the way things have been weird in this vague post-S3 world I'm picturing, and he's decided he's gonna Do Something About It (mostly because he's already about 'if I'm not a bush I'm not no one' levels of drunk). Naturally, he decides that what he's gonna do is woo his angel.

Easy enough. Humans do this shit all the time, and without the benefit of 6000 years of mutual pining and some slinky hips. In fact, thanks to his extensive knowledge of romcoms (a must for any demon if they want to learn inventive ways to sow discord among couple, etc, and for no other reason), he's decided that the perfect course of action is to serenade Aziraphale with a song that perfectly encapsulates his squishy, kind of embarrassingly soft feelings that the angel just has to give in and accept his expertly plighted troth (probably not a euphemism).

He is, at this point, at the 'I'm washing me and my clothes' stage of his drinking binge, but he's nervous, so sue him.

It takes him foreeeeever to pick a song (he only knows "bebop" won't do, but unfortunately that covers such a wide and sometimes contradictory swath of all music made since the 1940s, it's pretty impossible), and he keeps second guessing himself, so he makes it to the 'Kiefer Sutherland tackling a Christmas tree' stage of blitzed and hits shuffle on his 'Embarrassing Angelfeels I Can Never Admit To Even Under Pain Of Total Annihilation' Spotify playlist et VOILA! The perfect song! Crowley can't believe his luck, and he sets his plan into motion before he can do something stupid, like sober up.

So, it's about 3 in the morning at this point, and Crowley has set up his speaker system in the middle of the street facing Aziraphale's bookshop, and as you do, he climbs onto a stolen crate (containing an order of dildos the adult entertainment shop three streets over is going to be looking for in about five hours) and shouts for Aziraphale until the angel, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be hanging around at 3am on a Wednesday (mostly Mrs. Sandwich and her girls and poor Nina, who has unwisely chosen to arrive extra early to wait on a delivery of hazelnut syrup), pops their heads out to see what the deuce is going on.

Once he sees his darling angel, Crowley takes another swig of frankly embarrassingly cheap vodka for a demon of his tastes, hefts hus microphone, and starts to sing (for a given value of sing).

It starts off soft, all chimes and romantic piano, full of joy and longing, and Aziraphale's face does that thing where he's definitely embarrassed, but also pleased, so Crowley shuts his eyes, and that's when the disco beat drops.

Oh yes. Crowley is about to fucking boogie down for the love of his life.

He busts out all the moves, wiggling those slinky hips (because he's never been one not to use every weapon at his disposal), belting out mostly the right lyrics in somewhat the right key, generally on time and everything.

Aziraphale's face, if Crowley would open his eyes and look, is now crossing over into horrified, yet hopelessly enamored, with a dash of down bad. His tastes are varied and interesting, okay?

The music fades out before Crowley does, still belting for a good thirty seconds after the track changes to 'The Edge of Glory', which isn't as perfect for his purposes, but Aziraphale hasn't fallen to his knees in besotted supplication (also not a euphemism, probably), so Crowley figures he may as well, and the whole street is both glad and a little disappointed that this is when Aziraphale steps away from the shop door, reaches up for Crowley's hand, and drags him off the box of dildos and towards the shop.

"That's lovely, dear. Why don't we go inside so you can sleep this off before we talk about it."

Crowley, of course, follows along happily, about 80% sure that is a euphemism, and decides send a little blessing to Barbra Streisand in gratitude. He knew 'The Main Event/Fight' had been the right song to choose.

(It was not, in fact, a euphemism, and Crowley thinks the squirming agony of having to listen to Aziraphale somehow turn a love confession into a lecture about proper methods of courtship and being considerate of human sleep cycles while suffering the worst hangover of his entire existence is possibly the best worst thing he's ever experienced. Hell should take notes.)

(They spend the rest of the day getting to know each other, and that is a euphemism.)

Now.

Did I fail to peel this mental image off the surface of my brain for the last 24 hours and decide to share the agony and the ecstasy of it? Oh yes.

Is it the perfect song to confess your love to your ineffable crush with? Debatable, but it has good results of one (1) success and no failures so far, so we can't really say no.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

The level of detail in this is unmatched. The creativity? Inspired. When I started th brainrot series never did I think I would receive something of this gravitas. Bravo my dear, I'm in the palm of your hand. And the specificity of the playlist turning to Edge Of Glory? Delicious. This is truly, marvellously unhinged. God bless the Babs and to you for the gift you have bestowed upon me. I will treat it with love and care.