#(FOR REAL)

[nemesyaaa]

Jake peralta <3 (all the crew actually but Jake...)

Y'all are gonna have to pry Brooklyn 99 from my cold dead hands

[hainge]

Makeup and fun!

bllk!dads feat:Michael Kaiser, Itoshi Sae, Shidou Ryusei, Yukimiya Kenyu and Chigiri Hyoma a/n: I am in fact so proud of chigiri's one adhabdahbfhj wrote it while kicking my feet it’s also almost 2am </3 productive life

Michael Kaiser

It started off normal.

Michael was on the couch, reading a book with one leg up, while Matilda sat beside him, munching on an apple and staring at him like he might suddenly turn into a movie.

They’d built Legos earlier, some weird-looking castle that had two doors and no windows. Matilda was proud. Michael was too tired to point out the structural flaws.

Then, she disappeared for five minutes.

When she came back, she held a makeup bag.

“Let’s do your makeup,” she said cheerfully.

Michael looked over his book. “Don’t you wanna draw or something?”

“Nope. You sit still. I’ll make you beautiful.”

“…I’m already beautiful.”

“You’ll be more.”

He sighed, marking his page. “I don’t think your mom will be happy if she finds out.”

“I’ll be careful.”

That was a lie. But she said it with such confidence, he let it slide.

Ten minutes in, Matilda had broken the mascara wand clean in half. She gasped, whispered “oh no,” and then used her fingers instead. It was clumpy. His lashes stuck together like tree branches after a storm.

She moved on.

Her tiny hands dug into a fancy compact, blush, probably, and then she scooped concealer with the same finger. She didn’t blend. She smooshed. Right onto his cheek.

“There,” she said. “Nice and red. Like a tomato.”

“Cool,” Michael muttered, trying not to blink.

Next came lipstick. It snapped halfway through the first layer. She shrugged and pushed the broken part into his lips like she was applying glue to a poster.

“I’m so good at this.”

“You are,” he agreed, because lying to your kid was allowed when they were already emotionally attached to the outcome.

Then came the eyebrow gel.

Except it wasn’t gel anymore. She mixed it with something else. Foundation? Water? Guilt?

Whatever it was, it ended up smeared across his eyebrows like brown glue. He scratched his head and instantly regretted it.

And then… the powder.

It slipped from her hand with a soft “uh-oh” and hit the floor like a mini explosion. €45, gone in a puff of shimmer.

They both stared at it.

“Don’t move,” she whispered. “We clean.”

They wiped, dusted, swept. Matilda even used one of his old soccer jerseys to soak up some of the fallout. When they were done, the room was cleaner than before.

They sat in silence. Michael looked like a defeated clown.

Matilda smiled. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks. I can’t feel my face.”

You came home already done with the day.

Work had been hell. Your boss was passive-aggressive, your back ached, and all you wanted was to put on your comfiest sweatshirt and exist in silence for twenty minutes without being needed.

Instead, you opened the bathroom door.

And paused.

The first thing you noticed was the powder. It was subtle, but your trained eyes caught it, the faint shimmer near the baseboards, the slightly off-color grout line.

Your heart sank.

Then came the rest.

The cracked blush compact. Your favorite lipstick, snapped in two like a breadstick. Foundation cap missing. Concealer and blush mixed. Mascara, twisted open and dried out. Your setting powder? Gone. Vaporized. You didn’t even want to touch it.

You stood there, gripping the doorframe, jaw tight.

They touched your stuff.

You stormed down the hallway, shoes still on, bag still hanging from one shoulder. No greeting. No preamble. You walked into the living room and-

There he was.

Michael. Your grown-ass husband. Lying on the couch like he hadn’t committed a war crime. Face full of smeared glitter, eyebrows suspiciously sticky, and faint remnants of fuchsia lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

He looked up, blinking innocently. “Hey.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “Michael.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you look like a rejected Bratz doll?”

He straightened slightly. “Okay, first of all, that’s rude.”

You dropped your bag onto the floor with a thud. “What. Did. You. Do.”

From behind the couch, a small head popped up. “Hi Mommy!”

Matilda.

You exhaled through your nose. “What. Did she do to you?”

“I was her model,” Michael said, a bit too proudly.

“And my makeup?” you snapped.

Michael hesitated. “She… borrowed it.”

“You LET her?”

“She said she’d be careful!”

“She's FIVE, Michael!”

Matilda slowly slid out of view.

You marched into the middle of the room, pointing toward the hallway. “Did you not see the broken blush? The mascara? My €45 setting powder? It’s a war zone in there.”

Michael had the nerve to look slightly offended. “We cleaned.”

“I don’t care if you vacuumed it with a Dyson on holy mode. My entire routine is in pieces.”

Matilda peeked back up, holding a Lego brick like a peace offering. “We made a castle?”

You turned back to Michael. “You know what else you made? A €124 shopping list.”

He winced.

“Oh, and you’re not just replacing the makeup,” you added. “You’re explaining to the Sephora cashier why you need glitter-resistant setting spray and a blush called 'Super orgasm'”

He sighed. “Do I have to say the shade name out loud?”

“Oh, you’ll say it. Loud and proud.”

Matilda tugged at your sleeve. “Mommy… am I grounded?”

You crouched down, voice soft but firm. “Matilda, sweetie, I love you. But if you touch my serum again, I’ll file a restraining order.”

Michael cleared his throat. “Does that go for me too?”

You glared at him. “Michael, if you so much as look at my mascara again, I swear to God—”

He stood up quickly. “Matilda. Shoes. Let’s go.”

“Where?” she asked.

“To sell a kidney,” he muttered. “Apparently I owe your mom half of Sephora.”

Itoshi Sae

Sae should’ve known better the moment Kimiko came into the room with her hands on her hips like a CEO.

“Daddy,” she announced, “I’m going to be a makeup artist when I grow up.”

Sae didn’t look up from the TV. “That so?”

“I already made a lookbook. I call this one ‘Sun Princess.’” She shoved a paper into his face. It was a crayon drawing of a girl with gold eyeshadow and orange cheeks, wearing what looked like a tiara made of eyeliner pens.

Sae blinked. “Looks... bright.”

She nodded. “Yup. And now you’re going to wear it.”

He slowly turned his head. “Come again?”

“We’re trying it. On your face. With Mommy’s makeup.”

Sae closed his book. “That’s not going to happen.”

She squinted at him. “Do you want to hurt my dreams, Daddy?”

“…no"

“Sit down. I already laid out the palette.”

He sighed, like a man heading into war. “Just the eyeshadow. Nothing else.”

Kimiko was already tying a towel around his neck like a cape. “Sure, sure.”

An hour later, he’d lost all control of the situation.

The “just eyeshadow” plan had escalated fast.

“Stop frowning. You’re creasing it,” she scolded, dabbing more gold onto his lids with a tiny sponge she kept calling her “power blender.”

He didn’t dare move.

“I said close your eyes. But not too tight. Ugh, Daddy, this is hard work. I’m building a brand here.”

Sae said nothing. His cheeks were burning, not emotionally, physically. Kimiko had layered on so much blush, he could feel it tingling. Not to mention the bronzer, which she’d called “spicy powder” and generously applied all over his jawline and cheekbones.

“Looking good,” she muttered to herself, smudging one wing of eyeliner with the grace of a chaotic Picasso. One side is snatched. The other is... interpretive.

“I can’t feel my skin,” he said.

“You don’t need to. You’re art.”

He looked in the mirror. Orange undertone. Flamingo blush. Uneven eyeliner. But no products broken. No brushes destroyed. She even cleaned the sponge after each shade change. Honestly? She had technique.

Still. He felt like a baked sweet potato.

You came home to this masterpiece.

Kicked off your shoes, dropped your bag, walked into the living room and just stopped. Your tired brain tried to process the sight:

Your husband. Sitting rigid on the couch. Bronzed to oblivion. Eyeliner tragic. Sparkle highlight catching the light like a prism. And your daughter, hands on hips, nodding at her own handiwork.

“...Sae,” you said slowly. “What the hell is on your face?”

“She’s living her dream,” he deadpanned.

Kimiko spun around. “Mommy, look! He’s the Sun Princess! I even did contour but like… experimental.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. “Oh wow. Oh my God. Your nose contour looks like… like a lightning bolt.”

“On purpose,” Kimiko said. “It’s called editorial chaos.”

You pulled out your phone. “Hold still. This is going on the family group chat.”

“Don’t,” Sae muttered.

“Say cheese, Sun Princess.”

He didn’t even blink. Just stared, cheeks blazing with artificial color as you snapped five photos in a row.

“I hope you realize this is revenge,” you grinned. “For letting her eat frosting with a spoon last week.”

Kimiko raised her hand. “I approve this revenge.”

Shidou Ryusei

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

No screaming. No running. No Shidou yelling about “epic snack time” or your daughter humming off-key to anime openings. Just… silence.

Until you stepped inside the room you shared with him, and saw it.

The ring light was on. Your makeup bag was open. And right in front of the camera, posed with one hip popped and fake lashes batting like palm leaves in a storm, was your husband.

Ryusei. In full glam.

And beside him, perched on a pink stool like a gremlin beauty influencer, was Shoko, holding a lip gloss wand like a weapon of mass destruction.

They both turned around, eyes wide.

“Hope you gu—” you started, then just froze. “What is going on?”

A beat of silence.

Then: “Welcome back to our channel,” Shidou grinned, glitter highlighter blinding under the ring light. Shoko struck a pose.

An Hour Earlier

They were sitting on the couch, halfway through watching cursed 5-Minute Crafts videos, when a tutorial for “Easy Lip Gloss in 60 Seconds” played.

Shidou squinted at it. Something in his brain clicked. Telepathically, Shoko gasped beside him.

They locked eyes.

“Let’s do a GRWM,” Shidou said.

“Yesssss,” Shoko whispered. “Get. Ready. With. Me.”

“Camera?”

“Charging.”

“Lighting?”

“Ring light from the closet.”

“Angle?”

“Front-facing and flawless.”

“Makeup?”

“…Mommy’s drawer.”

They fist-bumped.

The transformation was chaos, but organized chaos. Shoko, a menace with a mission, directed him like a six-year-old Spielberg.

“Okay Daddy, sit still. I’m doing the liner.”

“Sharp enough to kill a man?”

“Sharp enough to stab my opps.”

“Hell yeah.”

She narrated everything in a dramatic little Voiceover. “Okay guysss… so like, first we’re priming…what's primer again?…wait nevermind.”

Ryusei couldn’t stop grinning. He even helped her blend the concealer like a pro. Who knew he had technique?

And then—

“Time for the… the bonze,” Shoko announced proudly.

“Bronzer, pumpkin,” he corrected.

“Yes, that.”

She smeared it directly on his nose, no mercy. “DAMN, sweetie,” he said, wheezing.

They tried lashes. Took three tries. The glue got on his eyebrow. He may have lost some dignity but they made it work.

“Okay now do the final pose,” Shoko directed. “Look over the shoulder, then wink.”

Ryusei turned slowly to the camera, lashes flapping like moth wings. He winked. Then fake gasped.

That’s when you walked in.

Back to Present

You just stood there, blinking at the sight: Your grown-ass husband, with fuchsia blush, eyeliner wings that could lift a small bird, and lips shimmering in your limited edition gloss. Your daughter looking like she just conquered the runway.

They looked back at you with identical wide, guilty eyes.

“…Is that my Charlotte Tilbury lipstick?” you asked.

“Allegedly,” Shidou said.

“Those are my fake lashes,” you added, stepping closer.

Shoko giggled. “They’re Dad’s now.”

You blinked at them, speechless.

Then you started laughing, really laughing, because what else could you do when your husband looked like a drag queen who'd been coached by a sugar-fueled child?

“Pose again,” you said, pulling out your phone. “I’m not letting this go undocumented.”

Shoko threw up peace signs. Shidou did the duck lips. You died a little inside, and lived.

Yukimiya Kenyu

The house was calm. The kind of calm that only happened when the laundry was folded, the sun was setting, and the soft sound of your snoring floated from the couch nearby, finally getting the nap you'd been threatening to take all week.

Yukimiya sat on the bed beside a basket of warm clothes, folding neatly, rhythmically, while Emi matched socks and chatted like a little bird.

“daddy,” she said suddenly, “can I do your makeup after this?”

He paused mid-fold. “Hmm… I don’t know, sweetie. Mommy doesn’t want anyone near her vanity.”

She tilted her head, already pouting. “But I got all A’s on my tests.”

He exhaled, long and slow, but smiled. He was a weak man for his daughter, especially when her bangs fell over her eyes and her lip wobbled.

“Fine,” he said, setting the shirt down. “But we have to be quick. And we cannot—cannot—destroy anything.”

“Deal!” she beamed.

They tiptoed toward your vanity like two burglars in a heist movie. Emi took it very seriously. She had laid out each product like surgical tools. Yukimiya helped her sort everything, identifying brushes and palettes like a trained professional.

“Okay, this is foundation. Use the sponge gently. Don’t drag it.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“This is for your cheeks. A little goes a long way.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“This is highlighter, but—oh. You already opened it. Okay.”

By the time she was done, he looked like a K-pop idol. Skin glowing. Blush soft and natural. Lashes curled and coated delicately. His lips were still untouched, waiting.

“Now lipstick, Daddy,” Emi said with deadly calm.

“Wait—be gentle with that, the twisty part is—”

PRESS.

Too late.

She had shoved the lipstick halfway into his teeth with full first-grade determination. The tube cracked sideways under the pressure, smearing bright coral across his chin.

“…Sweetie,” he whispered, frozen. “Oh no. Oh no no no-”

“What’s wrong?”

“You broke Mommy’s favorite lipstick.”

Emi gasped. “Oh no. We were doing so well.”

“Ken…”

Both of them stiffened.

Your sleepy voice cut through the silence like a horror soundtrack.

You stepped into the room, blinking through your post-nap fog. You rubbed your eyes and froze.

There he was.

Yukimiya Kenyu, crouched beside your vanity. Eyes sparkly. Cheeks glowing. Coral lipstick half on, half under his mouth. Your daughter standing next to him, looking like she’d just murdered Barbie.

“Are you with…” you squinted harder, “what the…”

Yukimiya smiled with all the grace he could muster. “She got all A’s.”

You stared at him.

Then at your lipstick.

Then back at him.

“…You better pray that wasn’t my favorite-”

You blinked. Took a second look.

“…Actually, you know what? I always hated that shade. Looked weird on me. Makes sense it ends up working on you, of course.”

Yukimiya raised an eyebrow. Emi beamed.

“We slayed Mommy,” she said proudly.

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Yeah, yeah, you slayed, whatever. But next time? Ask me first.”

Yukimiya held up a tissue in surrender. “Noted.”

“I need coffee before I decide how mad I am.”

Yukimiya mouthed “thank god” and immediately started wiping his lips with a tissue. Emi was already trying to hide the broken lipstick under the table like a criminal.

Chigiri Hyoma

The night started peacefully.

You were out with your friends, finally letting yourself breathe. A girls' night, long overdue. You left the twins with Chigiri, who had promised you nothing catastrophic would happen while you were gone.

Promises are just... words, really.

8:43 PM – Chigiri's Living Room

“UNO,” Chigiri said flatly, dropping a +4 on Mayu with zero remorse.

Mayu’s face crumpled. “…Not fair.”

Himari let out the most dramatic sigh in the history of sighs. “I’m bored. Can we do something else?”

Chigiri leaned back against the couch. “Like what?”

She looked around. Scanned. Calculated. And then, there it was.

Your mascara.

Sitting innocently on the coffee table. Taunting fate.

“Makeup,” Himari declared. “On you, Dad.”

Chigiri didn’t even flinch. “Not a good idea.”

“Daaaaaad.”

“Not a goooood ideaaaaa.”

“If you don’t let us, I’ll tell Mommy about the vase you broke when you kicked the ball inside the house.”

He paused.

“…Fine. Fineeeee. But both of you get one side. We’re splitting my face. Equal rights.”

9:12 PM – The War Zone

Chigiri sat cross-legged on the floor, every cell in his body screaming, “This is how legends die.”

Mayu, gentle and focused, handled the left side of his face with unexpected grace. She actually blended.

“Good job, Mayu,” he mumbled.

Himari was on a different planet.

“Noooo, don’t move, you’re gonna ruin my art!”

“Why does it feel like you're stabbing me?”

“Beauty is pain, Daddy.”

And then, suddenly-

“...What are you drawing?”

“Nothing.”

Pause.

“Is that-HIMARI--”

“SHHHH.”

She had drawn a dick on his cheek. In eyeliner.

Where a blush contour should be.

“Where did you even learn what that is?!”

“I have bros in my class.”

1:34 AM – The Aftermath

When you walked through the door, the house was oddly quiet. The lights were low. Peaceful.

You tiptoed to your room and found all three of them curled up in your bed, the twins tucked under each arm of your very unconscious husband.

But something glinted under the dim lamp light.

You leaned in.

"...Is that..."

You squinted.

"...Is that a dick on your face?!"

You slapped his shoulder in a harsh whisper. “Bae… babe. Babe! Wake up!”

“Huh—wha—” he blinked up at you like a stunned deer. “What time is it?”

You pointed furiously. “What. The hell. Is this?!”

He wiped his cheek lazily and only smeared the eyeliner more. “Himari’s creative?”

You stared at him, then sighed and walked to the bathroom. Looked down at the toilet and...surprise! there there was your mascara, floating.

The Next Morning – Breakfast Table of Regret

You sipped your coffee, staring across the table at your husband.

He sat on the opposite end like a man on trial, face wiped clean but soul permanently stained.

“So,” you said flatly. “Want to explain why my mascara was floating in the toilet like a drowned rat?”

Chigiri cleared his throat. “In my defense… she was threatening me with blackmail.”

“And the eyeshadow mixed with concealer?”

“Himari was blending ‘like the YouTubers.’”

“And the eyeliner art?”

“…She said it was anatomically accurate. I don’t even know what that means anymore.”

You rubbed your temples.

In the corner, Mayu and Himari giggled over their cereal.

“Next time,” you muttered, “I’m hiring a babysitter. One with armor.”

[rowanisawriter]

present and future wars

[bie-tch]

Very rough outline of my monstrosity au. I call it Odyssey!Kai. Yes it's an epic the musical pun. I'm very happy with it

Oooo been thinking about this for a hot minute. Was in my drafts for longer.

The imperium arc goes different too, Lloyd getting afraid at seeing Wyldfyre, her being fire adjacent and all, and thinking Kai is dead since she has his "fire" powers. After they get back to the Monastery, Zane actually becomes Wyldfyres mentor. The reason is that he finds her endearing and sees himself in her (not knowing who you are or where you came from). I have concept art rotting in my gallery, but it's not done yet sowy.

In this one, Kai doesn't find the bounty. Nya does. So she finds Lloyd first and traverses the merged lands for information. This, of course, creates irreparable damage to our boy. He does not go home early this time.

S2 has 4 major changes. Wyldfyre is slightly calmer, Lloyd has visions of both the bloodmoon and a mysterious figure cloaked in fur and blood (that he can't help but feel pain for, he doesn't know why), Nya learns dragon rising technique first, and Cole gets sacrificed instead of Kai. Besides that, mostly the same. Maybe they struggle a bit with the Ras showdown, but it ends the exact same way with Nokt free.

S2 p2 has the most differences. For one, Geo and the finders live with the ninja now. He feels guilty for letting Cole 'die' like that, so he's thrown himself into training. He's doing well, and the finders are having fun with arin, sora, and wyldfyre. The monastery is definitely more full, but the ninja still feel the absences of Kai, Cole, and Jay.

Next, Cole isn't doing that bad in the ns. He's got bonzle, he can use his powers to shape the space since it's technically rock, and enough stories to last a lifetime. He's fine.

Zane and Wyldfyre bond more. He tells her stories and videos about Kai and how they'd get along, and she is ecstatic. Another fire user, how exciting!

Arin and sora are still looking for his parents. Still find the matriarch dead.

Meanwhile, Kai has all but lost it. He isn't insane, but his morals have all but been destroyed. The only thing he cares about is getting back to his family and anything and anyone that has come in between that has now died or burned to death. The guardian dragon and fire knight mech are his permanent companions, and they respect his decision to change his values. One can not survive being in the land of the monsters without becoming one themselves, anyway.

The tournament of sources plays out the exact same. If you're wondering about frak, zane took up Cole's role in the og series. When Jay and Nya fight, he actually comes very close to winning. Nya can't bring herself to hurt him, since this time she doesn't have her brother to kinda fill his void. Jay is about to eliminate her until a fire ball the size of a car chucks Jay into the nearest wall.

Nya and the rest of the ninja are horrified because, duh, and she rushes to his side. Jay is unconscious, and she looks to where the fireball came from. Everyone is so in shock that they don't even recognize that it was a fire ball. Except Wyldfyre, then Zane. He tries to tell Lloyd, but there a crowd blocking his way.

All Nya sees are security bots wrangling a hooded figure, but they're being dismantled by the second in a flurry of slashes. Also, it doesn't help that there are two giants (mech and dragon) just looking down at him saying something she can't hear. She can only make out a subtle, "Do you want them to see you like this?" Before the stranger flinches and finally calms down. He allows himself to be arrested.

When the source dragons send out those little messages for each elemental master, Kai actually gets one since he hasn't encountered ras yet. The messenger dragon leads him out of the realm of monsters, but it's still pretty far. He gets there, but it takes a day or two. Or three. That's why he's late.

Roby comes forward, and he is just upset. Absolutely annoyed. He says something about wanting to see the face of the perpetrator, and that sends Kai into another frenzy. He doesn't want his family to him like that. He fails this time, though, and his hat and mask are pulled off.

You can guess what happens next.

Roby is actually happy with the change of events, calling it an epic plot-twist, but the ninja?

The reunion is short-lived, as he's wrung away for interfering with a match. The ninja tried to get to him, but doing so could get them disqualified, so they bite their lips and accept it unwillingly. Not knowing what to do with the mech and dragon, they just give it to the ninja. Both parties accept.

All I have so far wowowowowow

[celibatedreamer]

[allthatispeculiar]

[somber-tone-man]

My dreams be like

[nessa007]

[morichaan]

[lacmuss-art]

please please please 🙏

Adult Phineas and Ferb in revival

[classycookiexo]

[5weetmeat]

since some of you are confused

[glitterypin]

rare sighting of Nine and/or Twelve in Thirteen's body

[gramarobin]

[judahlux]

I need to understand why Miguel, A FUCKING TEENAGER, is standing in front of Daniel and Johnny, TWO FUCKING OLD MEN IF YOU CARE, in the middle of a beach as if he were an angry latin mother scolding her two children