#THIS ASK MADE ME GIGGLE /POS

[starheirxero]

Lord eclipse be nice to sun or I'll put gasoline and burn you hug him at least

Does coiling the most centipede part of his body around Sun count as a hug? /j

[lightbulb-warning]

im shaking, im cackli g so much at the artwork

caesar NOT BORINB

fence SHUICHISCUTE

spiral YOU ARE MY FAVORITE

*triumphant trumpet noises*

🎊🎊🎊 !!we have a winner!! 🎊🎊🎊

*there is now confetti everywhere. you'll be finding confetti stuck to your socks for the next few weeks. confetti is what your life has become.*

solved the codes in the draw- here's the prize!

[merecorder-meeple-official]

uh hi sorry if this sounds weird but. hypothetically if I needed to harmlessly defeat an army of over 200 MeTags in an infinite grassy plane. how should I do that

this is for a reoccuring dream I've been having I promise.

Uh, okayyyyy…

Harmlessly? Make them immobile, find a way to get them all stuck I guess.

Not telling you the best way to do that, because I don’t full believe this is a hypothetical-

[p0rk-guts]

you're disgusting. an utter failure. fuck you. go kill yourself. we all hate you here. stop pretending like it'll get better. pull the trigger

EHEHEHHEEHEE OH MY GODDDDD??? keep going that'ssss so hot........

[dirksawesomesprites]

your sprites dont make me hard! ☺

[stunie]

praying to all the gods and wishing on every single star that hsr wins the poll 😭🙏 on my hands and knees begging (going insane i Need to have a taste of your flavour of writing with hsr characters mm)

HAHXHXN you’re so cute 😭 i have i think 4 wips for hsr— but they’re just random shower thoughts i have (ie: oh my god ___ would say this line to reader)

I ALSO HAVE ONE CIMPLETED WIP but i scrapped it because i felt like it didn’t do the character justice > <

[murmurmurl]

hang in there, stranger on the internet. may i offer a 4koma tsukasa falling down the stairs

thank you, another stranger on the internet, I am very grateful for this offering of a 4koma tsukasa falling down the stairs. it has been much needed and is greatly appreciated

[ask-steven-stevenson]

You are going to sisyphus

(yeets droplet into sisyphus's domain and he cannot leave until he gets the boulder up the gigantic hill)

{DROPLET ANON NOOOO}

[starheirxero]

hi!!! apologies sorry that I'm stuffing asks in your already full ask box, just popped in to say hi cause you appeared in my notifs and I got excited :)

THIS IS FROM A BIT AGO BUT I AM WAVING AT U !!!! I need u to know that the other day u and another friend of mine both went thru my blog at the same time and I opened tumblr to 99+ notifs HEJAGQKDJD

[writersdrug]

Bartender ghost’s reaction to waitress reader getting hit on by a customer or customers.

There's not nearly enough of these in my askbox send me mooooreeeeeee

He kinda hates it. He hates seeing her getting ogled at, hates seeing them scribble their numbers on the receipts, hates the way they make you run back and forth to grab them ketchup, mayo, more drinks, or to ask Soap for an extra side of fries - hates the way they try to chat you up, leaning back in their seats and saying anything that'll get you giggling and bright eyed - Simon knows it's all for their pleasure, having you at their beck and call for an hour or two, making you their personal little errand girl and watching you weave around tables and customers for their own enjoyment.

Simon isn't mad at you for wearing those shorts and skirts that have the patrons' eyes glued to your backside, or those low-cut, tight tops that hug you so nicely, making them stutter as they give you their order. He's mad at them, those sleazeballs who think they're worth your time or attention. You're his waitress, not their toy. His pretty little over-achiever.

And that's exactly why he tolerates it. He knows you're a grown adult, and he knows you're smart. You play their game, smiling sweetly and acting the tiniest bit coy and frazzled, nonetheless fulfilling every single one of their requests. Pretending to be apologetic about a burger not made to a customer's liking, then barking out orders to Soap once you're behind the kitchen door (don't worry, he barks back). You do it all for the fat tips, the double, sometimes triple digits on their receipts. He swallows the bitter taste of jealousy - well, he tries to. He's got his own patrons at the bartop to worry about.

You waltz over at the end of your shift and slap a receipt on the counter. "Some bloke left me a billion dollar tip." You say with a cheeky grin, cheeks flushed from hours of running between tables.

Ghost cocks an eyebrow, looking at the receipt. Sure enough, the idiot had left his mobile number in the tips section - technically, he left you four billion.

"That won't go through, 'n you know it." He says, looking over the edge of the receipt at you.

You purse your lips and tilt your chin down, looking up at him through your stupid, bloody, gorgeous eyes. "Twenty percent auto-grat, since that's technically not a tip? Pretty pleeeeease?"

He wants to say no, just to prove he's strong-willed against your flirtatious antics. He's an ex-SAS soldier. He's better than this. Your charm may fool those boys at his tables, but not him.

That is, until you carefully wrap your delicate hand around his wrist, using your other fingers to fold the receipt over his knuckles. "It'll be our little secret."

Thank god he has the counter to hide his raging hard on. He huffs and snatches the receipt from your fingers, turning to the POS.

"Fuckin' whatever." He says, punching in the tip. You squeal in delight and flit back to the restaurant floor to finish your tasks.

"Thanks Simon!" You chirp, and he grunts over his shoulder - discretely pressing his boner into counter.

You have to fan the heat from your face, remembering how his wrist felt in your hand.

[moonstruckme]

Using this request again: I am once again asking for Prince!Sirius, perhaps a tryst in the royal gardens? A stolen kiss while practicing a waltz? An eventful evening at the opera for the “engaged” couple? A midnight motorbike ride throughout the city, away from the palace guards? Sneaking out in the night to see each other?

Thanks for the double inspo babe ;)

cw: hint at abusive dynamic between Walburga and Sirius, arranged marriage

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.8k words

Sirius has grown really terribly fond of you. It’s been happening for a while. First you were a curiosity, then an amusement, and then somewhere along the way he came to care for you more than he should likely admit. 

You’re resplendent in the glow of the lights from the opera house stage, warm yellow kissing the curves of your face and reflecting in your pupils. Your gown spills half out of your chair and into Sirius’ lap, gentle blue like the twilight sky. It looks lovely on you. When you sat down, the skirt poofed out in front of you and you shot Sirius a look like are you seeing this?

Being seated next to you is, he has learned, a privilege of betrothal. Your engagement happened overnight, swift and unromantic. Sirius had simply woken up yesterday morning to be informed by his mother that he was to be married, presumably around the same time that a courtier or your grandmother was delivering the news to you. It was a bit surprising, though Sirius reminds himself continually that this is a part of the plan you and he made together all those weeks ago; it is possible, however, that in Sirius’ fanciful imaginings of how he might one day ask someone to spend the rest of their life with him, it did not involve his mother listing it off like one of the day’s appointments as she vengefully drew back his curtains. 

Your engagement was announced to the press by later that day. Tonight marks your first outing as a betrothed couple, the opera chosen specifically for its visibility and silent nature; you’re to be photographed, but not to chat to the press. Every now and again, Sirius will catch you rolling your shoulders like you’re being conscious of your posture. 

You lean close to him. “Can you understand what they’re saying?” you murmur. “It’s so slow.” 

Sirius has to cover his snicker by pretending he’s clearing his throat. “No, babe. It’s Italian, I can’t understand it either.” 

“Oh. Oops.” He glances over, and your expression has gone adorably sheepish. You look to be repressing a smile. “Don’t tell anyone I asked, then.” 

“Philistine.” He tugs playfully on the fabric of your skirt. “I’m leaking that to Bazaar.” 

You make a stymied giggling sound. Something flares in Sirius’ chest. “Hey, we’re engaged now. If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.” 

Sirius grins. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, beautiful.” 

“Sirius,” his mother hisses. 

Your lips disappear inside your mouth. Sirius rolls his eyes but obeys the implicit command, going quiet again. He reaches for your hand underneath the armrest, squeezing. 

Now that your relationship is public, your families know better than to let you and Sirius slip from their sights. During intermission you’re both kept in your seats while attendants leave the box to replenish food and drink. You shift a little in your seat, smiling and nodding politely at comments about the performance. Sirius suspects the gauzy underskirts of your dress are bothering you. You rarely complain, but when prompted Sirius can usually coax you into admitting some discomfort or another. You seem never to get used to the threads and trimmings of royalty. He’d pay a handsome fortune to see what you used to wear in your day-to-day life. Occasionally seeing you in your sleep clothes is treat enough; if he let his mind roam free, Sirius might indulge in fantasies of cutoff shorts, sweaters with threads pulled loose by age, thrift store sundresses and grass-stained trainers. 

You tap Sirius’ hand meaningfully before asking your grandmother to point you toward the facilities. The lights are down again, the press gone back to the foyer, so you’re waved off with no courtiers to follow you. Sirius waits a few minutes before saying he needs them as well. His mother snatches his wrist as he stands, but he’s made his announcement just loudly enough to be overheard; she can’t avoid letting him leave, though she makes sure to pin him with a baleful stare as he does. 

He finds you in a sitting area nowhere near the facilities, leaning against a wall with your lip caught between your teeth. You free it when you see Sirius, pushing off the wall to come towards him. 

“Hi,” you sigh, hugging him. 

Sirius enfolds you in turn. “Hi,” he says back, strangely breathless. It’s not unheard of for you to touch him, but to put your arms around him so unthinkingly, like you’ve been waiting all day to do it…Sirius wouldn’t have guessed such a gentle motion could knock the air out of him so entirely. He’d happily never breathe again. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Your hold tightens on his shoulders for a moment before you let go. “It’s just a lot.” 

“Is your skirt irritating you?” He grins. You mirror it, and Sirius watches with approval as some of the tension in your posture uncoils. 

“How’d you know?” you ask, something soft and almost coquettish in your tone.

“You’ve been squirming like someone let a colony of ants loose under there.” 

Your face becomes serious. “Really?” 

“No. You’re the picture of poise and good manners, I just have an eye for itchy formal wear. Stop worrying, sweetheart; the camera loves you.” 

“My grandmother said someone released a picture of me last week where I looked like a hunched-over tortoise.” 

“Well, your grandmother—and I say this at risk of a war between our nations—is a dunce.” 

There it is again. Laughter like fireworks popping in Sirius’ chest, hidden regrettably behind a raised hand. Your eyes are all impish delight. 

“You’re awful.” 

“You’re not a tortoise. It would be the flattery of a tortoise’s life to be compared to you.” 

“Isn’t it just…” You shake your head, expression unguarded in that way Sirius loves to think only happens around him. “Don’t you find all this engagement stuff a bit much?” 

He feels himself frown. “You’re upset about the engagement?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

“I thought,” Sirius says, somewhat offended though endeavoring not to be, “this was what we wanted.” 

“No, I know.” You blow out a breath. “I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen this fast, I suppose. Have they started talking to you about venues for the wedding yet?” 

Sirius lifts a brow. “No. Those sorts of decisions typically go through my mother, not me.” 

“Well, they’ve been talking to me about it.” You begin pacing, the layers of your dress swishing with every step. Sirius finds himself watching your restless hands. “Apparently, every member of my family has gotten married in the same church, but every member of your family has gotten married in a different church, and it’s only recently been brought to everyone’s attention that the members of both churches have been involved in some suspicious activities over the years. So now our advisors want to pick a new location, but your family wants to stick to tradition.” 

“Rather predictable of us,” Sirius owns.

“I’ve already had people asking me about floral color schemes. I don’t even recognize half the words they threw at me there.” You go by him once, twice, three times, your pace quickening with what Sirius presumes is the quickening of your heartbeat. “They want me to get allergy tested to be sure I won’t cause some sort of unexpected scene because of anything they serve at the reception. And—oh, I don’t know if you know, but we’re meant to taste cakes on Tuesday.” 

“That sounds fun,” Sirius says. “I rather hope I’m invited to that one, actually.” 

“It’s—yeah, that one does sound fun,” you allow, steps faltering slightly. “If we could just taste cakes, there really wouldn’t be any problem, but it’s not just that, you know? I’m supposed to start looking for a wedding dress soon.” 

“Alright. Hey.” Sirius catches your arm before you can pass him by again. You stop, looking down as though surprised to see his fingers denting gently into the crook of your elbow. He doesn’t let go. “Sweetheart, we can call it off. Okay? It’s alright.” 

You look confused. “Call off what, the engagement?” 

He nods. “We were never going to see it all the way through, right? We can end it whenever you like. Right now, if you want.” 

“I…” Your eyes move over his face. Sirius looks right back at you. “I don’t want that.” 

It’s absurd, the relief that washes through him. Sirius has a horrible feeling that he is setting himself up to be so, so heartsick. 

“No?” he asks, just to be sure. 

You shake your head. “I’m just…I’ll get used to it.” Your fingers find the end of his tie, toying with the silky material. “What about you? How are you doing with it all?” 

Sirius smiles. “There are worse fates than to be betrothed to a beautiful girl.” 

You get that look you do whenever he compliments you. Gaze fleeing his, lips curving bashfully, like they’re not sure if they’re allowed. “You don’t need to flirt with me,” you say. “We’re alone.” 

“Oh, but I love flirting with you,” he confesses. “Would you really deny me one of my scant joys in life?” 

Your eyes flick up to his, mirthful. “Your scant joys? The palace staff had out-of-season oranges sent from Brazil last week because you wanted an orange cake.” 

Sirius shrugs. 

“I’m just saying. There’s no one around to hear it.” 

“Lovely, I’ve been flirting with you since the moment we met.” He sweeps his thumb over the back of your arm, partly to tease you and partly just because he wants to. He pretends not to feel the goosebumps that rise from the action. “I’m not sure I could stop if I wanted to—or if you’d even recognize me. You might not like me without my flirting, did you ever think of that?” 

“I’d like you,” you say. Simply, unhesitatingly. 

“I suppose we’ll never know.” 

You shake your head again, your expression earnest. “I would.” 

Sirius’ heart thudders. He is suddenly, inescapably aware of the thickness of the air between you. It’s lessened in distance, somehow, heavying from your warm breaths and the heat of your bodies. His hand is still curled around your elbow. You have his tie between your fingers. Without thinking, Sirius closes the gap. 

You draw in a little breath. Your lips are soft and giving, and Sirius is terrified of you, he really is. You have his heart in the palm of your hand. 

When you don’t move after a moment, he draws back, his hand slipping down your forearm. Rejection is hot and sharp as a fire poker between his ribs.

He opens his eyes to find yours never closed. 

“I—” 

“Wait.” Your hand tightens on his tie, the other gripping his arm back. Your chin tips up, and your voice is breathless, ardent, pleading. “Sirius—” 

You push up at the same time as he pushes down, and your mouths crash together. 

[missdynamighttt]

okay not an ask but ive been dying to see some filo reader x katsuki 🙏🙏 katsuki would be so mesmerized he would learn to cook every dish there is and ask if it tastes like home UGH MY BABY

i know its NOT an ask but ><

katsuki wasn’t one to ask for help, but for you? he’d do anything.

you had been feeling a little down lately, and he knew that one of the things that always made you feel better was your favorite filipino dish. the only problem? he had no damn clue how to make it.

which is how he found himself pacing in the kitchen, his phone pressed to his ear as it rang.

"hello? sino 'to? (who's this?)" your mom’s voice came through, warm and familiar.

"hey, tita (auntie)," katsuki greeted, a little awkwardly but determined to speak at least a little bit of tagalog. "it's katsuki. i, uh… need your help with something... po."

"oh?" she sounded amused. "what is it, 'nak? (child?)"

he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "i wanna cook her favorite dish for her po, but... i dunno how. thought you could, y’know… teach me."

there was a pause, and then—laughter. "ay, ang sweet mo naman! (oh, you're so sweet!)"

he huffed, his cheeks warming. "tch. just help me out po, tita... please?"

your mom giggled but started giving him the instructions, step by step. katsuki listened intently, taking notes like it was the most important mission of his life. when he messed something up, your mom scolded him like he was her own son.

"no, no, not like that! ay nako (oh my gosh), katsuki, don’t burn it!"

"i’m not burning it!" he retorted, quickly adjusting the heat.

by the end of the call, he had the dish almost perfect—maybe not as good as your mom’s, but damn close.

"thank you po, tita," he muttered, a little embarrassed but genuinely grateful.

"of course, anak," she said fondly. "you take care of my baby, okay?"

he smiled softly. "always."

katsuki wasn’t the type to get nervous. he could take down villains, handle the most intense hero work, and push himself past his limits without hesitation.

but right now?

he had set everything up carefully—your favorite dish, cooked to the best of his ability, plated nicely in front of you. he sat across from you, arms crossed, but you could see the way his fingers tapped restlessly against his bicep.

"i know you’ve been feelin’ kinda down lately," he muttered, not quite meeting your eyes. "figured... maybe this would help."

you blinked at him, surprised, before looking down at the plate. your heart swelled. he did all of this for you?

"katsu..." you whispered, touched beyond words.

"just eat it already," he grumbled, trying to sound impatient, but you could see the way his jaw was tight, the slight furrow of his brows. he cared—he really cared.

so you took a bite.

the moment the flavors hit your tongue, a wave of emotions crashed over you. it wasn’t exactly like your mom’s, but it was damn close. the effort, the heart, the love behind it made it even better.

"this is amazing, kats," you said, looking up at him with genuine admiration. "how the hell did you pull this off? did you use a youtube tutorial? google recipes?"

katsuki scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. "tch. you think i’d trust some half-assed internet recipe?"

you raised an eyebrow. "then how—"

he huffed, looking away, suddenly seeming a little flustered. "called your mom," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "she walked me through it."

your eyes widened. "you called my mom?"

"yeah, yeah, don’t make a big deal out of it," he grumbled, avoiding your gaze. "figured if i was gonna do it, i’d do it right. so i asked the expert."

you stared at him for a moment, your heart swelling with warmth. "katsuki... that’s so—"

"shut up," he cut in quickly, face slightly pink. "just eat, dammit."

but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. he had gone out of his way to talk to your mom, to learn something that would comfort you. it wasn’t just about the food—it was about you.

you took another bite, savoring the taste and the love behind it.

"i love you, y’know that?" you said, smiling at him.

katsuki clicked his tongue, trying to act unaffected, but the way his ears burned gave him away. "yeah, yeah… i love you too. just finish your damn food."

but when you looked down at your plate again, you felt his hand reach for yours under the table, giving it a small, firm squeeze. and that, more than anything, told you exactly how much he cared.

katsuki watched you like a hawk, leaning in just slightly. "does it… y’know… does it taste like home?"

your chest tightened, warmth blooming in your heart.

"it does," you murmured, squeezing his hand back. "it tastes like home because you feel like home, katsuki."

he stiffened for a second, almost not sure how to process your words.

"tch. sappy little shit," he muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice, feel the way his grip tightened like he never wanted to let go.

"you're my home too, sweets."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[caitified]

TIME

CAITLIN CLARK X FAMILY READER

comments; i am working on paige’s family but i cant get over caitlin’s 🥹 so pls keep family requests coming!

warnings:none.

caitlin had been buzzing about the time photoshoot for weeks. athlete of the year. it was surreal, even for her—someone who didn’t often let herself sit in her accomplishments for too long. she had earned it, of course, with her record-breaking performances and her name becoming synonymous with basketball itself. still, she looked at you the night she got the call, her hazel eyes wide with disbelief, and said, “can you believe this?”

you could. you always could. you’d never doubted her for a second, not in college, not in her rookie season, not ever. but seeing her like this, standing on the edge of something even bigger than she already was—it made you so proud you could barely breathe.

the day of the shoot, you woke up early, the three of you tangled together in bed. bella, your two-year-old, had crawled in sometime during the night and sprawled across caitlin’s chest, her little fingers fisted in caitlin’s t-shirt. caitlin didn’t move much when bella did that; she never wanted to risk waking her up. instead, she just held her close, her hand splayed protectively across her tiny back.

after a while you all get up and head to the kitchen. caitlins nerves manifesting in the way she paced around the house with her coffee, double-checking her outfit and asking you if her hair looked okay for the hundredth time. you’d smiled from your spot at the kitchen counter, bella perched on your hip, her dark curls still messy from sleep.

“mommy looks so pretty, doesn’t she, bella?” you said, smoothing a hand over your two-year-old’s hair.

bella nodded, her thumb in her mouth, but her little brows furrowed. “mommy’s always pwetty,” she mumbled, pressing her face into your shoulder.

caitlin leaned down and kissed her cheek. “you’re pretty, too, bella bear,” she said, her voice warm. “you and mommy are the prettiest girls in the whole world.”

bella giggled, but she clung tighter to you, like she knew the day wasn’t going to be just about her. you’d noticed this about her lately—the way she wanted more of your attention, especially when caitlin’s schedule got hectic. she was used to having her mom at her beck and call, and anything less than that just didn’t sit right with her.

…..

the studio was bustling when you arrived, filled with photographers, assistants, and stylists all working to prepare for the shoot. bella clung to your leg as you walked in, her eyes wide as she took in all the unfamiliar faces and bright lights.

“wow,” she whispered, her little hand gripping yours tightly.

“it’s a lot, huh?” you said gently, crouching down to her level. “but mommy’s going to do such a great job, and we’ll stay right here with her the whole time, okay?”

bella nodded, but you could see the hesitation in her eyes as she glanced over at caitlin, who was already being whisked away by a stylist.

“mama,” bella said softly, tugging on your hand. “why are they taking mommy?”

“they’re just helping her get ready for her pictures, sweetheart,” you explained, smoothing a hand over her curls. “she’ll be right back.”

at first, bella was okay. she sat on your lap, nibbling on a snack while you both watched caitlin pose for the cameras. caitlin looked incredible—her sharp features softened by the warm lighting, her hazel eyes bright and focused as she followed the photographer’s directions.

but as the shoot went on, bella started to grow restless. her little hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, and she kept shifting in your lap, her brows furrowed in frustration.

“mama,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of activity in the room. “why is mommy not looking at me?”

your heart ached at her question, and you hugged her closer. “mommy’s just busy right now, baby. but she loves you so much, and she’s going to be done soon, okay?”

bella didn’t look convinced. her lower lip jutted out in a pout, and she crossed her arms over her chest, her little face set in a stubborn expression.

“i don’t like it,” she mumbled, her voice trembling slightly.

by the time the shoot was finally over, bella was at her breaking point. the moment caitlin walked over to you, still glowing from the excitement of the day, bella turned her face away, refusing to even look at her.

“bella bear,” caitlin said softly, crouching down in front of her. “what’s wrong, baby? why won’t you look at mommy?”

but bella just clung to you, burying her face in your shoulder and shaking her head. “no,” she said firmly.

“no?” caitlin repeated, her brows knitting together in concern. she looked up at you, confused. “what’s going on?”

“i think she’s upset about all the attention you were getting,” you said gently, rubbing soothing circles on bella’s back.

caitlin’s face fell, guilt flashing in her hazel eyes. “bella,” she said softly, reaching out to touch her daughter’s hand. “i’m sorry if i made you feel left out. i didn’t mean to.”

but bella just shook her head again, her little hands clutching your shirt tightly. “don’t want mommy,” she mumbled.

the words hit caitlin like a blow, and you could see the hurt on her face as she stood up, her shoulders slumping. “i’ll give her some space,” she said quietly, her voice heavy with emotion.

…

the rest of the evening was tense. bella stayed glued to your side, refusing to acknowledge caitlin no matter how hard she tried. at bedtime, she insisted that you be the one to tuck her in, and when caitlin came in to say goodnight, bella turned her back to her.

caitlin sighed, pressing a kiss to bella’s curls anyway. “goodnight, bella bear. i love you,” she said softly before leaving the room.

you found her in the living room a few minutes later, sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. “she hates me,” caitlin said when she looked up at you, her voice filled with frustration and sadness.

“she doesn’t hate you,” you said gently, sitting down beside her. “she’s just two. she doesn’t understand. give her time.”

it was almost an hour later when you heard the soft sound of little feet padding down the hallway. you looked up just as bella appeared in the doorway, clutching her stuffed bunny to her chest.

“mommy?” she said quietly, her voice trembling.

caitlin’s head shot up, and she was on her feet in an instant. “bella? what’s wrong, baby?”

bella’s lip wobbled as she ran to caitlin, reaching up with her tiny arms. “want you,” she said, her voice breaking.

caitlin scooped her up immediately, holding her close and pressing kisses to her curls. “oh, bella bear,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “i’m so sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to make you sad.”

bella sniffled, her little hands clutching at caitlin’s shirt. “didn’t like those people,” she mumbled. “didn’t like mommy not looking at me.”

caitlin’s arms tightened around her, her hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’m sorry, bella. i love you so much, and i promise i’ll always make time for you, okay? you’re my most important girl.”

bella nodded, her little body relaxing in caitlin’s arms. “love you, mommy,” she whispered.

“i love you too, bella bear,” caitlin said, her voice full of relief. she kissed her daughter’s forehead before looking over at you, her gaze soft and full of gratitude.

you smiled, your heart full as you watched them. “told you she’d come around,” you said teasingly, and caitlin laughed, the sound warm and full of love.

thanks for reading! i love them so much, more to come. requests open.

[car-o-line]

Oh boy uhm. Really nervous to ask this

First of all, I've recently started following you and I just have to say, I love your work. Everytime I read your posts it has me giggling and kicking my goofy little feet in the air./pos /gen

I was wondering if you could write about what if Doey and his 3 consciousness would do with a blind player /w broken glasses (Their vision is shit and can only make out things if they're REALLY close to their face 💔)

It's completely fine if you don't want to do this or don't have the time, just dropping down a small request :3

AHJBHEJFGWQKJBHKFER, ahem, thank you omg ur so sweet- and also this came to me at the right time because my vision is also ass but I refuse to wear glasses so shhh🤫🤫🤫 AND DO NOT BE NERVOUS ABOUT REQUESTING I DON’T BITE, PINKY SWEAR😤

Doey with a reader whose vision is bad bad 👓🤏😐

You honestly had no idea how you’ve made it this far-

From using your grab pack to grab handles that seem just like a glowing color, to reaching for batteries that seem like a speck of dust, and even not knowing that you killed monsters(you didn’t even realize Catnap died until Poppy told you herself)

Speaking of Miss Wendy’s head, she also has no clue how you came such a long way. But she figured that if you could manage to do all of this without good vision, the things you could do with perfect vision would be unimaginable in a place like this.

Either way you survived and you did the job, that’s all that counted.

After escaping..uhm, a rainbow lion or whatever. You quickly came across a green dinosaur that somehow made piano noises, though for the 15 seconds that you first saw him, the next 15 seconds were how he died. You couldn’t tell what killed him until the something crawled out of the darkness and came straight up towards you.

“Hiya there pallll, don’t worry! I won’t eat you. Ahahah..”

You recognized who that something was, Doey. You were a pass employee after all, but he was hard to see. And hard to understand where he was at during the whole encounter. Was he spying on you when you couldn’t see? Who knows?

The mascot told you to follow him as he managed to squeeze his way through the holes in the brick walls, which made everything wayyyyy more confusing than it had to be.

Appalled, you literally just didn’t know where to go to follow him, you looked up, down, left, right, but all you could see was a blur.

Doey, eventually realized that you weren’t following him, so when be went back to where you first were, he was meant with you trying to grab the handle above(you found out how to follow him eventually) and missing each time miserably.

“Do you need help with that bud?”

(he scared you to death)

You sheepishly told him that you could not see a single thing unless it was real close to you. That’s why you’re missing so much.

He was a bit dumbfounded because if you were “Poppy’s friend,” wouldn’t she had chosen someone who would be the least at risk when it came to this sort of things. He imagined that if he grabbing a handle was a hassle for you, then everything else you’ve done must have been horribly troublesome for you.

Because Poppy wouldn’t let someone who’s basically BLIND do all her dirty work..right?

Right????

He decided to deal with that problem later, for now he wants to guide you personally to Save Haven. Somewhere where you can be safe until it’s not, or until he figures out what to do with you.

His way of transporting you was simple, just for you to piggy-back ride him til the area was reached(Jack just wanted a way to kind of actually touch someone without doing it randomly🎀)

Once at Safe Haven he had the Medic check up on you in case you got injured in anyway while he had a “chat” with Poppy.

“You let someone who can barely see go out and do all of the things someone in top-notch shape should be doing?”

“Listen Doey, who else is going to be down here and help us. Who else is capable to do the things they’re doing!?”

“Not them.”

“Doey-”

“I know you want this to happen as fast as possible Poppy. But using Y/n isn’t the right option, it’s a miracle they’ve survived for this long. And if they would’ve died, it would’ve caused the Prototypes attention much more then if Y/n hadn’t came here to begin with.”

“You don’t get it, Y/n has potential- you’ve seen what they’ve done!”

“And it’s great, but they’ve done enough. They will stay here until the Prototype is dead, end of discussion Poppy.”

And he means to keep his word until he physically cannot do so anymore.

Matthew is definitely the most concerned about your predicament. When he’s in control he’ll kind of be like a butler or a guidance for you. He makes sure that the other toys in Safe Haven know about your vision so that if they play or you’re helping them do whatever, that they know to either play gentle or not ask too much from you when you’re around.

Kevin did not give two craps at first I’m so so sorry😭 He’s so inconsiderate ain’t he beginning like, they don’t have glasses? Are they poor? When he’s first met you he purposefully hid your items from you just so you get annoyed. But when you got closer with his personality, he yells at anyone who bothers you or hides things from you. A hypocrite at his finest.

Jack used your vision as an opportunity to bond with you. Even if he wasn’t purposely doing it he sometimes uses your lack of sight to his advantage for entertainment. If you need something but can’t see it(it’s literally on your sleeping bag and you’re IN the tent) he makes a game out of it like if he finds it first you have to give him a hug or a high-five. He also wonders about it most too, so you literally just cannot see? Interesting…he said he’d cry if that happened to him. Okay Jack. Okay.

#ThisIsWhyYouDoNotBreakYourGlassesOrYouWillEndUpLikeY/n

[natailiatulls07]

Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader

Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader

Summary - A little walk to Pascale salon turns into an anxiety attack because of some intrusive fans (I have changed the request slightly, I hope you don't mind x)

Warning - Mention of Jules Bianchi, fans being intrusive, anxiety attack (It's not that descriptive), multiple mentions of being in the public eye/limelight

A/n - Tumblr is being a bit weird rn so I'm gonna try and post this again lol x

Marguerite

-

Being in the public eye does have its consequences, espercially when your father is considered a formula one legend and your guardian/older brother is a very popular current formula one driver.

One of these consequences is anxiety, it's something Y/n developed from a very young age. Of course she has her coping mechanisms and the people in her inner circle know how to help her.

-

It was a slow day for Marguerite. She didn't have any classes and she'd have the apartment to herself today. Usually she'd have Tom, her boyfriend, round to hang out but he was busy.

The day started out okay; Y/n had caught up with any unfinished assignments before relaxing in the living room. Rewatching her favourite show and playing with Leo.

Alexandra and Charles were out all day, leaving the dog with the younger girl. Charles had a press event for his ice cream brand, Lec, and Y/n knew that it'd be hard to contact the pair.

Normally Marguerite would join them, but she felt as though she hadn't stopped recently. Between grand prixs, school, social events and travel, she hadn't had a proper break in a long while. Don't get me wrong; she loves her life and she's forever grateful for the privileges, opportunities and things she gets but a girl needs a break ever so often.

Around about half day, she decided that Leo and herself needed some fresh air so Y/n quickly got everything ready. Hooking the lead to Leo's collar, allowing the excited dog to slip through the front door before following in suit.

Marguerite was wearing a basic outfit, no effort at all, just hoping that she wouldn't be recognized. Particularly in Monaco, Y/n is usually seen and recongized.

"Right, let's go Leo.."

-

The sun shined down on Y/n and Leo as they casually strolled past the harbour, she thought about walking up to Le Quai 28. It had been a long time since she's seen Pascale.

Yeah it was a bit of a walk but that meant less time confined to a stuffy apartment which was needed.

They were half way there when things started to go down hill. The sun had decided to hide behind a grey gloomy cloud. With a soft huff, Marguerite quickened the pace hoping to avoid the impending rain.

But her new pace came to a stop when three girls, alittle bit older than her, came rushing to her. They all had excited and giddy smiles on their faces. It scared her slightly.

"Hey, we love you, Charles, Alexandra! Oh and Leo, like oh my god hi!" Y/n knew they meant well but the continuous squeals and giggle made her slightly uncomfortable. Espercially today, she wasn't feeling social interactions with strangers really.

In her hand Marguerite felt Leo trying to tug on the lead, just like her he was just as uncomfortable.

But it only got worse. The sudden attention on Marguerite caused more people to notice her and Leo. She painted a forced smile to her face, the smile not meeting her eyes - not that anyone really noticed. More people started to crowd around her.

"Can you give me a shoutout on your social media? It would mean the world to me!"

"Y/n! Y/n! Can I have a photo please?"

"What's your favorite memory of Jules? It must be incredible to grow up as his daughter!"

That last comment stung slightly. Y/n loved to honour her late father but sometimes when strangers ask about her childhood with him, it's something she wants to keep for herself.

To her, it felt intrusive. You wouldn’t go up to a random stranger asking about their favourite memory from childhood.

Looking down Marguerite noticed how flustered and unsettled the poor small dog had gotten. Quickly she bent down to pick him up which relaxed him luckily.

"Excuse me, I- I would love to stay, chat and take photos...but I have to be somewhere.." She felt her pulse pick up and her smile fell slight before she was quick to bring the corners of lips up again.

After pushing past the crowd, her quick pace was resumed only this time alittle bit quicker.

Everything had flipped upside down for Marguerite, her anxiety had gone crazy unfortunately.

Tears clouded on her waterline, quick and short intakes of breaths pushed passed her lips. She hadn't put down Leo yet, she wasn't even planning on doing so.

Y/n wanted to call Charles and Alexandra but she knew that she wouldn't get an answer so making a mad dash to Pascale would be her best option.

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at Pascales salon, rushing in as the tears started to fall over a plump cheeks. Heads turned but they all knew her. Pascale was excited to see the young girl and the small dog, however that excitement fell short when she noticed the anxiety attack happening.

She moved towards the teen, taking Marguerite into her arms. Pascale had a slight idea of what had happened. It wasn't the first time.

She spent the next hour calming down Y/n, letting her and Leo relax in the back office. After a while, the older women decided that she'd call Charles to take Marguerite home.

First call…ringtone.

Second call…ringtone.

Third times a charm…ringtone.

Her shoulders slumped at the unsuccessful third attempt, her manicured nails raking through her hair. As much as she loved Marguerite and Leo, Pascale knew this wasn’t the place for her to be in this state - She needed to be home.

“I think you might have to wait here for a little while Marguerite…until Charles or Alexandra pick up..”

Pascale had sympathy for the young girl, growing up in the limelight wasn’t something that came easy to anyone really.

-

Around about two hours later, Y/n’s phone started to buzz and Charles’ photo filled her screen. She was quick to pick up the phone and answer the call.

“Hi Charlie..”

Her voice was quiet and soft. And little sniffles came from her nose every so often.

On the other side of the call stood Alexandra and Charles back at the apartment, both confused as to where the teenager and the dog had gone.

“Hey Marguerite, where are you? Are you alright?” His voice was filled with concern and confusion. He was glad to hear her voice but it sounded different.

“Y-yeah…I’m with Pascale and Leo at the salon…” Charles watched as Alexandra picks up his keys, they’d meet her at the salon. “Charlie…I had an anxiety attack..”

You see the driver knew of her anxiety, he was similar and they could relate to each other. But it broke him to know that he wasn’t there to help her in a time in need, something he vowed to the late Jules to do in his honour.

Y/n took in another breath of air, relaxing herself once again. “I was walking with Leo and then…a bunch of fans came and bombarded me…really shook me”

There were annoyed frowns on the older couples faces, they truly love the fans but especially not when they do things like that. They just wished they’d understand respect and privacy.

“Okay..I’m so sorry Marguerite, we’re on our way to the salon now…you and Leo sit tight and relax”

Alexandra’s voice rang through the phone call, she always had a reassuring tone to her voice - Something Y/n always really appreciated.

“Hmm…guys?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you and thank you…” Their hearts just swelled.

“We love you too Marguerite..” Charles voice echoed back through to her, making sure she felt that same love and thankfulness she had for them.

-

[haikyu-mp4]

Sponsored

word count; 742 – gn!reader who likes makeup

“Sugarpill… what is this?” Kenma mumbled as he opened another PR package. This one was a bright pink box, on the smaller side. He scrunched his nose as he opened it, finding a little flyer and something square with a pixelated cat on the front. “Fun size… eyeshadow palette?” he read off the label and looked up as the chat suddenly went crazy.

kozuluvr: omg its makeup

kenkenspudding: will we finally get beauty guru kodzuken?

raginggamergirl: I dont even use makeup n I want this palette

Kenma hummed under his breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know why they would send me this,” he said honestly, twisting and turning the palette in his hands before opening it and showing the bright colours to the livestream, also doing his best to read off the names, which were all gaming related.

urfavkuroo: makeup tutorial for your next follower special?

He looked down at the palette, seemingly studying it. “The names are cool.”

When you came home from work, you kicked your shoes off and sighed loudly as you strolled into the kitchen. You knew Kenma was playing on livestream, so you picked up two juice boxes from the fridge and went to his office.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed, waving at the camera as you stepped up beside Kenma and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You two announced your relationship a long time ago, and after getting through the short period of intense hate comments, most of his fans seemed to get over it. They realised that you were kind of awesome.

“Hi, how was work?” Kenma asked, taking the juice box from you with a small thanks after pausing the game.

“Same old, same old.” You glanced at the screen and then back to him. “And yours?” you asked back with a teasing tone. “Looks tough.” Kenma scoffed and pinched your thigh, making you giggle. He ignored your question in favour of leaning across his desk to pick up the pink package.

“Look what I got in my sponsored mail,” was all he said, handing it to you and watching for your reaction with a small smile on his face. He really likes it when you get home.

People started posting suggested makeup looks with his name on Twitter and you even responded to a couple of them from your account, agreeing with what would suit him and what would not.

That’s why you two agreed that you would do the makeup on him, announcing on Kodzuken’s channels that if they got him to his next follower milestone, they would get a makeup special.

And what do you know, Kenma got a follower boost from all the posts his fans made about him and the palette.

You happily helped him set up to film in your living room, so you could sit cross-legged and face each other on the couch where the lighting was a bit nicer. In preparation, you cleaned your eyeshadow brushes and put Kenma’s hair in a nicer bun so the camera could properly catch whatever you did.

He raised a brow as you held up the eyeshadow palette to the camera and put your hand behind it, explaining the product. “What are you even doing?” he asked you, pointer finger drawing stars on your knee while he watched you affectionately.

“This is what us beauty gurus do,” you said in a jokingly posh voice, also telling him “You wouldn’t understand.”

“This is my channel, you know,” he teased, using his other hand to tap your cheek. If he focused more on you, he didn’t think too much about how much more exposed he was to his viewers in a video like this compared to what he was used to.

“Shh, I’m talking to my devoted followers,” you said before laughing, picking up the next colour on a new brush and putting a quick kiss on his lips before you continued with the makeup. “We’re all Kodzuken fans here.”

Kenma knew some people expected him to act annoyed, but he also knew there was no way to hide how much he loved your soft touches and the concentrated look on your face as your brushes ticked his skin to give him a (supposedly trendy) “rainbow blush”.

There were even more mentions of him online after the video was posted. Now the fans shared screenshots and video clips of him and his partner, discussing how adorable you were together. Couple goals.

masterlist