#kids doll house online

[bootyful-seventeen]

Sometimes I really wish I had time travelling powers just to fling myself back to the classic age of Barbie movies in the 2000’s and grab myself the dolls + a few of the fashion sets while they were still affordable

[maisontini]

Shop for Buy Kids Furniture Online: Durable, Eco-Friendly & Stylish Rattan Doll Houses

If you're looking for unique and stylish furniture for your little ones, look no further than Maisontini. As an online retailer specializing in kids' furniture, Maisontini offers a wide range of beautifully crafted pieces that are sure to capture your child's imagination. One of their standout products is their rattan doll houses, which are not only functional but also add a touch of charm to any playroom or bedroom.

Rattan doll houses are a popular choice among parents who are looking for durable and eco-friendly furniture for their kids. Buy Kids Furniture Online is made from rattan, a natural material that comes from the rattan palm and is known for its strength and durability. This makes it an ideal material for kids' furniture, as it can withstand the wear and tear that comes with everyday play. Additionally, rattan is a sustainable and renewable material, making it an eco-friendly choice for environmentally conscious parents.

One of the reasons why Maisontini's rattan doll houses are so special is the level of craftsmanship that goes into each piece. The result is a stunning piece of furniture that not only serves as a play space for your child's dolls but also adds a touch of elegance to their room.

Maisontini offers a variety of rattan dollhouses to suit different tastes and preferences. From classic designs with pitched roofs and open sides to modern designs with sleek lines and contemporary finishes, there's something for everyone. Each doll house is designed with the needs and preferences of children in mind, with features such as removable roofs, working doors, and open windows that allow for easy play and interaction.

One of the reasons why parents love Maisontini's rattan doll houses is that they are not only functional but also incredibly stylish. Rattan is a versatile material that can be woven into intricate patterns and designs, resulting in unique and eye-catching furniture pieces. Whether you're looking for a doll house that matches your child's existing furniture or one that makes a statement on its own, Maisontini has options to suit your style.

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When it comes to safety, Maisontini takes it seriously. All their rattan doll houses are made with child-safe materials and finishes, ensuring that they are free from harmful chemicals and meet the highest safety standards. This gives parents peace of mind knowing that their child is playing with furniture that is not only beautiful but also safe.

In conclusion, Maisontini offers a wide range of stylish and eco-friendly rattan doll houses that are perfect for adding a touch of charm to your child's playroom or bedroom. With their high-quality craftsmanship, practical features, and versatile design, these doll houses are not only functional but also make a statement in terms of style. If you're looking for unique and sustainable furniture for your child, Maisontini's rattan doll houses are an excellent choice. Visit their website to explore their collection and bring a touch of Maisontini's charm and elegance to your child's play space. With their commitment to craftsmanship, safety, and sustainability, you can trust that you're getting a high-quality product that will provide endless hours of imaginative play for your child.

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

[ghosty-writes-23]

His Precious Doll Face. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Slight NSFW (Somnophilia) Mentions of Stalking & Kidnapping, Obsessive/Possessive Behaviour, Panty Stealing.

Pairing: GhostFace!Leon + BestFriend!FemaleReader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: You were Leon’s sweet and innocent childhood best friend that was too naïve to know what his true intentions were, he just wanted to keep you safe and protected.

Word Count: 1.7k

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, just wanted to say I didn’t actually think I would be posting this on time but even this time I surprised myself, I have re-written this about 3 times today and I am finally happy with this version I wrote, a huge thank you to everybody that votes on the poll, it was fun seeing everybody interact with it and see everybody’s choice, I do plan on publishing something for Valentines Day but I am not making any promises, anyway just wanted to say a huge thank you and I hope you enjoy the story.

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

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18+ Content // MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+ Content.

Sitting at home relaxing on your couch watching Netflix, that you stole the password for from your best friend, Supernatural played in the background as you scrolled through your phone reading about the recent Ghostface murders that had been happening around the university campus.

Many people think its a student dressed up as the iconic horror slasher while others just think its just some crazy nutjob, but since the murders classes have been strictly online until the person reasonable has been found. After reading another new article claiming that the authorities should be doing more to catch this murder you exited the page and went to see your text messages. 

A couple where from Chris complaining that he wished you had accompanied him and Leon to the halloween party their frat was throwing, another message was from Claire showing the costumes the girls were wearing, Ada was going as a vampire, Claire was a witch and Jill went as fairy and chris photobombed the picture dressed as michael myers, the picture made you laugh as you sent a heart back, you didn’t feel like going to the party or any social gathering, just a comfy movie night in was all you wanted.

After reply to Claire you saw Leon messaged you, the pair of you had been best friends since you were little kids, being next door neighbours you practically grew up together, always staying at each other's houses for sleepovers, movie nights and even got accepted into the same university as each other, your parents were best friends and would do double date nights when you and Leon grew older, clicking on Leon’s message you read what it said. 

“Miss you.” was all the message said, it brought a small smile to your face. It wasn't a secret that you and Leon were a little bit closer than friends since you basically grew up together, but that is all you were just friends even though sometimes you wished it was something a little more. Shaking your head you looked at the time on your phone 1am it was time for you to go to bed.

Grabbing your TV remote you flicked off the TV before wrapping your blanket around yourself and got off the couch, as you did you heard a creak in the floor in your hallway, causing you to freeze slightly but then you thought it was just your cat coming inside. Shrugging off the feeling you headed up to your room, not seeing the shadowy figure that looked up at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Pushing open your bedroom door you went and flopped onto your bed exhaustion washing over your body as you don’t even bother to get under your blankets as you close your eyes. Just as your mind was about to drift off to dreamland you could have sworn you heard your bedroom door open but when you open your eyes there's nothing there causing you to think you have have started to go crazy, but soon there was a soft meow before your cat jumped up on the bed purring as it pushed its face against yours, causing you to smile as you pet its head. 

“You keep giving me a heart attack.” you said to the feline as you softly scold it, but it just purrs and curls up beside you before going to sleep, not having the energy to close your door you drifted off to sleep not seeing the shadowy figure was now in the corner of your bedroom. 

Looking at the sleeping woman, the shadowy figure felt his heart race as his breathing got slightly heavy, his blade in his pocket before he raised up and pulled the mask from his face revealing himself to be none other than your best friend Leon, there was a blood splatter on his face that he didn’t bother to clean up, he had to come and see you.

He knew once you found out what he had done you would never want to see him again, but he was doing all of this for you, to protect you those people who would have hurt you and he couldn’t have that, he loved you too much to see you ever get hurt, so he dealt with them so they would never hurt you in the first place.

Everything he did was to protect you from the cruelty of this world, he didn’t care if he had to get his hands dirty if it meant you kept that innocent and sweet smile. Walking over to your sleeping figure Leon kneeled down and took off one of his bloody gloves then gently rested his cold hand on your cheek causing your face to scrunch up at the sudden cold feeling but you didn't wake, his thumb slowly creased your cheek as he looked at you with a lovesick look.

You here his precious doll and he will always protect you and have your best interests at heart. Looking away from your face Leon noticed your oversized shirt had ridden up where it rested just under your breasts giving him a full view of your stomach and cute black panties you were wearing, they were his favourite because of how they looked on your body and that he had brought them for you.

Letting out a heavy breath, Leon tried resisting the urge to kiss your stomach, how your soft skin would feel under his lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh and leaving little marks showing everybody you belong to him, the thought sent a rush of heat through his body. Taking a deep breath one little kiss wouldn’t hurt so he moved to half way down your bed and leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach, he promised himself to not leave any marks, unlike last time, but this time he was determined not to. 

Your skin felt so soft under his lips, almost as if kissing a marshmallow he could almost taste the sweet taste of your body wash from your shower earlier in the night. Leon knew of this because of the camera’s he had placed around your place, so he could always have an eye on you. Feeling you stir Leon frozen in place before you turned over a soft noise leaving your lips as you settled back into your bed. Leon knew you were a light sleeper so he had to be careful and quiet. 

His gaze went back up to your face, making sure you were fully asleep again before he let out a soft breath, this is what you do to him, you drive him crazy with the most simple and innocent actions just you sleeping peacefully was enough to make his body feel hot all over, to make him crave touching you in a way no best friend should and it was all your fault, but was he complaining, no you could never do any wrong in his eyes. 

Moving onto your bed Leon made sure his movements wouldn’t disturb your peaceful slumber, as his body hovered over your sleeping form his breath picked up, it fanned over your face causing you to stir again, holding his breath you settled down once again your breath evening out and your snores light and soft, Leon didn’t want to risk waking you up so as he slowly moved off the bed, he let his lips trail down your body as light as a feather, but as he got to the top of your cute black panties Leon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet smell, he could see a small wet patch forming causing the cheap cotton to stick to your pussy.

Leon could feel his lips go dry, licking his lips he looked like a predatory looking down at its prey, his eyes had darken and his breathing was now more uneven, reaching a finger up he ran his finger up the slick fabric being as gentle as possible, a soft noise leaving your throat as he pulled his finger back it was wet with your slick without thinking Leon placed his finger in his mouth causing a whine to leave his throat, he wanted more but it was too risky so he came up with a better plan, carefully and slowly Leon hooked his fingers into the top of your panties before gently pulling them down your smooth legs and off your feet. 

Once your panties where off Leon brought them to his noise and breathed in deeply, your scent filling his nose causing his eyes to roll back once again driving him wild, He didn’t want to take your innocence just yet he wanted you to be awake so you could feel all the pleasure he would bring to you, so for now this would have to do. Getting off the bed Leon placed the panties in his pocket before he walked over to you and gently kissed your head. 

“Goodnight Doll, i’ll see you again real soon.” Leon whispered before he grabbed his mask and placed it over his face before he carefully walked out of your bedroom and gently closed the door….

The Following Morning.

You woke feeling refreshed and well rested, your cat peacefully slept on your jacket that was placed on the chair that sat by your window, the early morning sun warming its fur, your stretched your arms over your head letting out a soft noise as your back made a clicking noise, running your fingers through your hair a feeling washed over you, as if you were missing something, reaching under your blankets you noticed your panties where missing, you were pretty sure you went to sleep with them on.

“Must of kicked them off somehow.” You thought as you shrugged your shoulders and pushed your blankets off your bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for your morning Uni classes and shift working at your mom’s bakery, where you will see Leon and tell me all about the supernatural episodes you watched last night and how your cat gave you two heart attacks.

As you made your way to the bathroom, you didn’t notice the small camera watching your every move, Leon was behind it smiling as if he had hearts in his eyes. “Soon doll, you will be mine.” he said as he placed his bloody hand on the computer screen, as there was the sound of a muffled scream behind him as a person sat tied up to a chair with tape over their mouth.

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's "Ghostly Gossip"! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" now introducing our second student entry for the blog... 'some guy I found on my grandma's attic'-- huh..? Wait, who wrote that down?? "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

Messy (but progressively getting better) design notes:

Epel was one of those designs that just clicked instantly with me, I had a vision of the basics I wanted all sorted in my head even before I gathered most reference pics. I don't expect this to happen again to a majority of the remaining cast though 😫

Watching those doll restoration/repainting videos while drawing helped me set the general mood I wanted for him, even though the final result doesn't show much of this inspiration, at least in my opinion... I love the makeup and face painting details these artists put on the dolls, but I was afraid too much of that would make his design too heavy-looking combined with the rest of the outfit. If I ever decide to design alternative outfits for this series, I'll try to show off more of this lost aspect there

For the character in itself now, I imagine him in this AU to be more free to do and act however he wants compared to his og universe counterpart. Still being supervised by Vil, but not in the same level as before. Probably the reason why he got all those scratches and cracks on his body, I like to think he's having a little more fun with being a gremlin and running around all he wants lol. And due to that, his skin care routine baisically consists in Elmer's glue, to stick any broken porcelain shards together. Vil is not exactly content about that, but he lets most of it slide at this point 👍

Epel's totally the type of kid who goes around the gardens to casually collect bugs like he's in animal crossing. Like this video I found on reels, which I don't reccomend watching if you have a phobia of spiders/insects/bugs/snakes/frogs/etc cause, you know. But anyway I think MH Epel holds this exact energy and it's- kinda terrifying! In a good way though. come on let this kid be a kid for once. I also think this more playful part of him fits well with the fact that he's a little doll. OH and the fact that og Epel grew up around the elderly back in his hometown kinda makes sense in this universe too, like, he's the type of doll some grandparents would keep in their old house as a family relic or something. Could very much be the beggining of a horror story.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 6 - The Butterfly Effect

Read on AO3

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Contains: No Y/N (2nd POV but Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Poorly translated Spanish, Lots of introspection

~4.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly nothing particularly bad happens this chapter.

John gives you space for the next few days, letting you settle in around the edges of his own routine. You’ve always been an early riser, and so is he, but he starts every day with a run, and you prefer a slower pace. You’ve taken to coming downstairs after you hear the front door close, and stretch on the living room floor (you wouldn’t call it yoga, but you’ve spent the last few years keeping up with the Kinsey kids, and you know how important it is to maintain flexibility), and make coffee before you go back upstairs to get dressed and ready for the day. John always showers first thing after his run, but after the second day he starts taking off his shirt before he drinks a glass of water at the sink, watching you from the corner of his eye to see if you’re looking.

And maybe sometimes you are. It would be a useless endeavour, pretending that he’s not nice to look at. He’s big, barrel-chested, with thick, muscular arms, and he’s hairy in a way that’s unbelievably attractive, and he gleams with sweat after his runs. If he didn’t look so damn smug every time he catches you looking, you’d probably gladly spend a few long minutes studying him. Something about the man makes your fingers itch to pick up a pencil.

You just orbit around each other for those first few days. He’s working on some project outside, and you putter around the house a bit and look for new jobs online. You were surprised that he didn’t confiscate your laptop to keep you from calling for a rescue, but he made no effort to stop you from using your laptop or your phone. Perhaps he’d really listened when you’d tried to set boundaries. He’s certainly given you space to adjust.

On Wednesday, you video call your Lola— It’s been routine for ages, since you always had Sundays and Wednesdays off from work— and catch up. You start the call shortly after John leaves, to give yourself some time to talk privately. It’s nice to see her familiar, wrinkled brown face, even if she’s half the world away from you.

She clocks that you’re not at home right away, and gets that sly, knowing smile when you tell her you’re staying with a friend. “¿Estás viendo a alguien?” she asks. “¿Un joven tal vez?” Are you seeing someone? A young man perhaps?

“No nada de eso. Sólo quedarme con un amigo.” No, nothing like that. Just staying with a friend. Once again, lying to make it seem like you’re not in trouble. It’s not like your Lola would be able to do anything about your situation anyway. You would just worry her.

Of course, Lola is much too observant not to see that you're hiding something-- Even if all she sees of you is a video call once a week, you're her granddaughter and she knows you. "Dalisay," she says, her tone a mocking approximation of sternness. "Eres una mujer adulta. Me gustaría saber que eres feliz, que estás saliendo con alguien agradable. No tienes que mentirme. Mientele a tu otra abuela.” You are a grown woman. I would like to know you're happy, that you’re seeing someone kind. You don't have to lie to me. Lie to your other grandmother.

You laugh. "¡Es complicado Lola! Él es—" It's complicated Lola! He's—

The door opens, and John limps back in, early. "Rolled my ankle," he explains, taking your wide-eyed look as concern. "Just need some ice."

"Muéstramelo," Lola demands, laughing. "Tiene una voz hermosa.” Show him to me. He has a handsome voice.

John turns toward you, frowning. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"I always call Lola on Wednesdays-- John, sit down, you need to ice your ankle, what are you doing?"

He's standing on one leg, in the middle of the kitchen, fishing a mug out of the cupboard rather than getting something cold and sitting right down. "I--"

You're not sure what possesses you, but you get up, and you make him sit, and you go to make him his coffee and wrap a bag of frozen peas in a tea towel. When you turn around, he's reached across the table to pull your laptop closer, smiling at the camera when Lola claps he hands together, beaming.

"Es guapo, Dalisay. Pero no joven, ¿eh?" She says, laughing. He's handsome, Dalisay. But not young, huh?

"No," he agrees, "soy demasiado viejo para ella. Todavía soy lo suficientemente egoísta como para intentarlo de todos modos.” I'm too old for her. I'm still selfish enough to try anyway. Lola laughs at his honesty, pleased with John already.

You set down the coffee and glare at him. But you gently set the ice pack on his raised ankle. He pulls you into his lap, sitting you on his other thigh. "John!" You protest.

"Oh, relájate, apo,” Lola chides, unhelpfully reading the situation just the way John wants her to. She seems impressed by John's accented Spanish, happy to not need to translate her words to English to speak with him. She speaks English perfectly well, but she prefers Spanish, calls English clunky and ungraceful. "Yo también fui joven una vez. Me preocupaba que ella nunca encontrara a alguien.” Oh lighten up, apo. I was young once too. I was worried she would never find someone.

"No es que ella no pudiera,” John says. "Ella es tan hermosa, pero mantiene la distancia." It's not that she couldn't. She's so beautiful, but she keeps her distance.

“John, stop that,” you say, and you do mean the way he’s talking, but you also mean the hand that’s firmly gripping your hip, kneading your soft flesh. It’s not hard enough to bruise, not even enough to hurt, but it’s distracting, and makes your heart flutter. The movement is also hitching your skirt up a little higher on your thighs.

The innocent, laughing look he gives you is no help. “Sorry, love.” He kisses your shoulder, his hand sliding up to your waist instead.

You glance over at the screen, wincing when you see two of your cousins crowded into the screen with Lola, all of them stifling laughter and one of them holding a chubby baby.

“He needs to buy you a ring, cuz,” Ligaya says, waving her baby’s chubby hand at you. “Say hello Berting, that’s your auntie Dalisay and her boyfriend.” She and her sister, Ceci dissolve into giggles. The baby laughs too, although he doesn’t have any idea what’s going on around him.

“He’s too old to be anyone’s boyfriend,” you grouse.

“He looks more like husband material to me,” Ceci crows. She points a threatening finger at the webcam. “You’d better be good to her! She’s our favourite cousin.”

“Y mi nieta favorita,” Lola says, And my favourite granddaughter, cupping her hand around her mouth as if that would keep Ligaya and Ceci from hearing her. They both laugh, unoffended, Ceci batting Lola’s shoulder lightly.

“I will,” John promises. “She makes it easy. She’s much too good for the likes of me.”

“And don’t you forget it, English!” Ligaya agrees. “Are you coming to see us for Christmas this year, Lisay? There’s at least four babies you haven’t met yet.”

“I’m not sure I can afford to this year. We’ll see if I can find work—”

“¿Qué pasó? ¿Perdiste tu trabajo?” Lola asks. What happened? Did you lose your job?

“You practically raised those niños!” Ligaya protests, as if that would change the facts of the matter. “They love you!”

You grimace, and haltingly explain that Mr. Kinsey had made a pass at you, and you’d been fired so that he and his wife could work out their marital issues. Apparently you’d been just too tempting to have around, despite the fact that you had less than zero interest in your former employer. By the end of your explanation, Lola looks ready to fight, and Ligaya and Ceci both look furious too. “It’s alright,” you say, trying to convince yourself as much as you are them. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave if they didn’t fire me. And I didn’t want to be raising someone else's’ kids forever.”

Ceci wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Yeah, Lisay, you want your own babies, eh?”

“You should start painting again,” Ligaya suggested, flicking Ceci with the hand not currently supporting her son. “You could sell prints online, portrait commissions. You’re as good as your mother, and she made it into that London Gallery.”

Lola notices the way your smile strains and shoos your cousins away. “El consejo es bueno aunque graznan,” she says. “Eres demasiado buena para dejar de pintar.” The advice is good, even if they quack. You’re too good to stop painting.

You change the subject, and Lola talks some about the children, about neighbourhood gossip, catching you up on everything before you end the call. You sigh, sinking into John unconsciously. He’s so big, and so solid, you wish you could do away with that undercurrent of fear ruining the little comfort his arms would provide you otherwise.

“Why’d you stop painting?” he asks.

“It’s not the same anymore.”

“Is anything ever the same?”

You twist to look at him. His eyes are too blue, piercing though you like he’s able to read the thoughts in your head. You have to remind yourself that he can’t, that he doesn’t know you well enough even to guess. You’re getting to know him pretty well though, and you recognize this earnestness, this plea to let him in, to let him help. John is a man who needs to do something all the time, that needs to focus on a task. You wonder what it is that nips at his heels so sharply— Is is inherent, genetic, something unavoidable, written in the core of his very deepest, truest self? Or is it just that he’s running from something, and must stay in motion, driving himself ever forward to keep it from catching up?

“Have you ever lost anyone, John?”

Surprise widens his eyes for a flickering second, before he hides it behind a tight smile. “Think we’re talking about you, Doll.”

“You don’t have to answer. I think it’s just easier to understand, when you have. Painting just reminds me of my mam. It’s like trying to swim with lead shoes on. It’s so hard to keep my head above the water that it’s easier just not to swim.”

“Maybe you could try takin’ off the lead shoes,” he suggested, his arms tightening around you. Levity and reassurance, like he knows exactly what you need. “Or maybe you just shouldn’t go swimmin’ alone.”

“A lifeguard,” you say, rolling the thought around in your head. Maybe that was the problem, the empty space was too apparent when there was no one around to fill it. You’d painted the flowers on the credenza with Ripley there, and that had even been nice. You’d thought it was just a fluke, but you hadn’t really thought about why it had been different. “That’s an interesting thought.”

“Did you have everything you’d need? We can look through the boxes for your supplies.”

You shake your head. “No. Yes. I have watercolours somewhere. Just no acrylics. But I could start with watercolours.”

“Yeah? We can look now, if you like.”

“Maybe in a bit. I’ll make breakfast first.”

“I can do it,” he offers quickly. “I want to take care of you.”

As much as you aren’t quite ready to admit it, he already is. “No, I think it’s my turn. Just give me a minute. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but this is kind of nice.”

He hums his agreement, picking up his coffee. You think he’s doing it so he can’t kiss you, and you’re so pleased that he’s starting to get it that you almost consider kissing him instead.

But you don’t. You just let yourself enjoy the moment.

Maybe that’s enough, for now.

You decide that having him sit and watch you painting would be awkward, so once you hunt down your watercolours and a sketchbook with heavy paper, you set up outside while he works. He’s constructing some kind of frame over a concrete pad, a covered porch, you think. You sit out of the way, facing the copse of trees that surround the house, and the overgrown, weedy garden. It looks like it had been set up early in the season with the best of intentions, but you suspect that it was too hard on his knees and back. He’d made the mistake of planting everything straight in the ground— You probably would have suggested planter boxes, if you’d been here in the spring. Then he could have sat on a stool— It would have helped keep the bunnies out too. The few tomatoes left on an abandoned vine have little bites nibbled out of them— Almost everything has little bites taken out of it.

It makes you smother a laugh. It’s easy to imagine John railing against nature— He’s so stubborn, there’s no way he gave up for a good long time— Cursing the rabbits and deer, leaning over the once-neat rows until his back ached. There’s a pair of rusting garden shears stuck out of the ground, evidence that he quit in a fit of pique some months ago.

He’s looking at you— He has a sense for when you let happiness slip through, like a hound picking up a rabbit’s trail in the woods. You can feel the burn of those bright blue eyes on you, the heavy weight of his attention. Does he make note of everything you smile at? You wonder how long the list is now. Puppies, the Stuart kids, Lola and your cousins, and now his poor attempts at gardening. You haven’t really let much else get past your careful, polite mask, knowing full well that stone-walling him is your best defence. He’s searching for an opening, and once he finds it, he’ll pop you open like a clam.

It seems inevitable. Still, he’ll have to work for it, if he wants you to let him in. He’s already set himself the first of his Herculean tasks, to get you painting again. It would be easier to face the Nemean lion. Your grief has sharp teeth, unblunted even after a decade, still dug deep into your heart.

“You aren’t painting,” John says in your ear. His hands settle on your shoulders, holding you in your seat when surprise would launch you a few centimetres into the air.

You turn your head to look at him, and he’s far too close. “You aren’t working.”

“Takin’ a break. You look like you’re thinkin’ hard about something. What’s on your mind, Doll?”

“Your garden. Must have been a storm of misfortunes to make you give up.”

“Few things get the better of me, but this was one of ‘em. Have to settle for buyin’ produce at the shops like everyone else.”

“It’s not really so hard.”

“You the expert in gardening?”

“No, I just used to help my gran with her garden. Picked up a thing or two about keeping green things alive.” You take a dry paintbrush and dust it over his fingertips idly.

“That the one we talked to today?” he asks.

“No, that’s Lola. Gran is the Scottish one.”

He hums, smooths out tension in your shoulders with his thumbs, catching the slightest touch of your skin at the collar of your sweater. "Didn't think you had family in the UK."

You tip your head back, looking up at him. He shifts, leaning his forearms on the back of the chair, hanging over you. "Just my Gran, she got remarried a bit before we moved to Manchester. She thought her husbands-- Well, I'll say kids, but they were full adults, older than my mam already-- She thought they were more respectable than my parents. Wouldn't categorize her as a real warm and fuzzy lady."

"You don't talk then?"

"No. Not since my parents died. We had a proper row at the funeral and she's never apologized, and I'm certainly not going to."

"Learnin' a lot about you today, Doll."

“That I’m stubborn and that I distance myself from the people that love me?” you ask, flicking the paintbrush at the tip of his nose. His whole face scrunches, and it’s kind of endearing. You’re already feeling soft about him from this morning, because Lola liked him, and because he didn’t ask if she spoke English, just launched right into Spanish that was a maybe a little rough around the edges, but good enough.

“That,” he agrees. “But I think it’s good that you hold your ground. You’re not stubborn for the sake of it, you say what needs to be said. I’d bet good money that you were in the right.”

“It doesn’t always matter who’s right and who’s wrong, John. Sometimes you have to set aside ego to make things right.”

“Tryin’ to teach an old dog new tricks?” he asks.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll teach yourself. Now go on, get. You’re distracting me.” You wrap your hands around one of his, and press a fleeting kiss to a spot between his thumb and his wrist before releasing him. “And be careful of your ankle. If you need to carry something heavy, let me help you.”

He laughs and withdraws, his shadow sliding over your page as he moves away. “Yes ma’am. You’re pretty cute when you’re bossy.”

“I’m always cute,” you say blithely.

You don’t look at him, so you miss the way he glances back over his shoulder, blue eyes burning. “You’re damn right about that.”

Ducking your head down to hide your smile, you pick your pencil up and look back to the garden. Something about the red-handled shears stuck in the soil speaks to you, so you lightly sketch it out on the page, humming to yourself quietly. The next things you need to hunt down are your headphones and the old mp3 player so you can listen to music while you paint.

There’s something soothing about hearing John work anyway. The whirr of his drill as he screwed framing lumber into place, or the buzz of his saw when he cuts pieces to size. He’s methodical, exacting— What makes him so good at building probably made him a poor gardener too. He can cut and fit pieces of wood together to make any shape he pleases, he can make a plan and nothing will fight back against it, beyond a warped bit of lumber here and there, but a garden grows as it will, and there’s no controlling the wind or the sun or the rain, let alone the creatures that might come looking for something tender and green.

That same struggle plays out between the two of you. He sees a map and a destination where you see a landscape. The journey, the exploration, is what matters to you, the light and shadow, the soft growing things and the hungry teeth that nip at the roots. In his mind he’s already built a house at the top of the hill, and he wants to pull you inside, lay you down, plant his seeds in a different garden, watch something new grow. It’s not simply impatience, but a need for control, for surety.

He exerts that control outwards, bending the world to the shape he likes. You’ve always turned it inwards, pulling in on yourself, turning your life into a safe little cocoon, turning deprivation and isolation into an art. Constructing masks to get you through, reliable scripts, being whomever you need to be to make things easier.

And perhaps it was easy, but it was lonely too.

Maybe they really had done you a favour. By pulling you out of your comfortable routine, they’ve forced you to face yourself, for the first time in ages, to ask yourself what it is that you want, to see who you are.

You feel like a butterfly, wings still damp and unfurling, perched in John’s hand. He could risk letting you fly away, or he could force you to stay by destroying some integral part of you. There’s no telling which path he intends to take, not yet.

You can just hope.

It might be insane— It certainly feels insane— but you really want him to be a good man. Not just out of self-preservation, although it probably weighs something in the equation, but because you want him. He’s right when he says there’s something here, something that’s been rolling around in the back of your mind since Ghost dumped you in his lap. It hasn’t even been a week, but it feels longer.

You keep half an eye on him while you put the first pale washes of colour onto paper. A few small versions first, to get a handle on light and shadow, colour values, just to remember how to mix colours the way you want to, and then start on the larger version, feeling a little more confident.

You’ve just blocked in the base colours when you notice that John’s limping again, and showing no sign of stopping his work. Sighing, you set your paintbrush down and stand. “John,” you say gently, putting yourself in the path between the saw set up and his lumber pile. “It’s time to take a break.”

“No, I’m fine, Doll. Get back to your painting.” He tries to move around you, but you side-step and block his path again. “It’s just a sprain,” he says, exasperated. “I’ve worked through worse.”

As if that was a good reason to ignore pain. “And you never considered that maybe you shouldn’t have had to?”

He frowns down at you. The difference in your heights has to be at least a foot, but he has a funny way of tucking in his chin and hanging his head when you’re standing close like this, and looking at you straight on anyway. A soft little hand settles on his stomach, unbidden— You’re not sure that you’ve instigated contact with him before, it’s always been him reaching out for you, his big hands achingly gentle. Is anyone ever gentle with him? Is he ever gentle with himself?

“The work will still be here tomorrow,” you remind him. “You have time to rest.”

A raindrop splashes on your outstretching arm. The two of you look up in tandem, at a heavy grey cloud that’s rolled over head— It hasn’t blocked out the sun yet, and neither of you had noticed it creeping up— and then at each other. “Guess the weather agrees with you,” John says.

You both scramble apart and into action. John covers the pile of lumber and the saw with tarps, weighed down with a few odd bricks so they won’t blow away, and you quickly pack up the water colours and your paintings. You don’t get there in time to stop a few splashes of rain from hitting the page, but you get everything inside before it’s completely soaked and set it on the kitchen table for the moment.

While you’re filling the kettle and looking outside, watching the rain splash against the window, John comes in too, and looks at your work. “The rain ruined it,” he says. “I should have been paying more attention to the weather.” There’s guilt in his voice, as if it’s his fault that the rain chose to fall where and when it did.

You set the kettle to boil, and join him, studying the paintings. Each of them unrefined— The smaller ones are just work-ups anyway, but the raindrops have warped the colours, creating voids with saturated edges. You wouldn’t say they’re ruined. There’s an artistry to incident, story preserved on paper in a way that your art wouldn’t do alone.

“No, I like it better this way,” you say decisively. “It underlines the theme of futility, don’t you think? How we’re at the mercy of the weather, whether we like it or not.”

“S’pose so,” he admits grudgingly.

His mouth is set so it almost disappears under his moustache. He really does hate the reminder that he has no control over some things. You dash upstairs and grab a couple of towels and tuck them under your arm, and take John’s hand, leading him out onto the front porch.

He follows you without resistance, although there’s a funny, curious look on his face. “What’re you doing?”

You let go, and put the towels down on the bench. “What does it look like I’m doing?” The rain is coming steadily now, the sky turned darker, sun all but blotted out, and it’s cold on your skin when you step out from the shelter and into the downpour. You throw your arms out and spin, laughing.

There are many things in this life that you can’t control. Things that are fixed, unchanged and immovable, laws of nature, the whims of weather, and Captain John Price. But you have choices too. You can try to move a mountain, but you’d be better climbing over it. You can choose to struggle against the current, or let it sweep you along. You can dance in the rain rather than wish it were sunny.

And you can hold out your hand, and invite John to dance with you.

Image Credits: Banner Dividers

[probablybadrpgideas]

What kind of Internet Vibes do the different Vampire Clans have?

Assamites: The most impenetrable discourse you've ever seen in your life. The kind of callouts where you need 350 years of context and several PhDs to figure out what the person's actually being accused of. Despite the fact that maybe 10 non-vampires on earth know what any given post means, it still gets 80,000 notes worth of argument.

Brujah: An otherwise blank page that simply says "if you venmo $20 to this account I will eat your landlord no questions asked"

Followers Of Set: As a group of soulless immortal monsters dedicated to spreading wickedness in service of an ancient god of evil, the Followers Of Set's profiles sometimes make the top ten most fucked up things you've seen online today.

Gangrel: Extremely distressing furry art pages.

Giovanni: They reanimate dead memes and send them after you. More then one prince has been destroyed after having a LolCat captioned "I can has your soul?" myspaced to them.

Lasombra: The Lasombra don't show up on camera so instead of putting out content they just break into your house while you sleep.

Malkavian: Listen. Listen. You look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't following at least one blog obviously run by Malkavians right now.

Nosferatu: Monsterfuckers but the other way round.

Ravnos: Sadly if I continue White Wolf will delete my blog for bringing up that time they wrote the Ravnos.

Toreador: Toreadors have literally never experienced anything they have loved more then Instagram. The entire clan has gone feral, several elders have been killed over follower counts and the Toreador Antediluvian reentered torpor because it couldn't stop Instagram scrolling. It's a fucking bloodbath.

Tremere: You know those "occult safety" tumblrs that say things "don't use Ouija boards on Halloween"? The opposite of those. "Hey kids! Break a cursed doll over your head while yelling the true name of Satan! It'll be cool and fun!"

Tzimisce: Yet more unrealistic beauty standards for women.

Ventrue: Those weird focused group "cool tweets" designed to appeal to the youth, except the focus group is 1000 years old. Ever had a tweet show up in your feed "You know what's leet and unsus? The divine right of kings"? You're welcome!

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

A dancer dies twice

LeonKennedy x ballet!fem!reader

Summary: Leon attends ballet performances from time to time and a certain dancer caught his eye. An unexpected turn occurred and the favored ballet dancer stopped performing, causing Leon’s heart to break a little.

Warning: comfort/angst. mention of depression and weight loss. not proofread lol. nothing sexual but still.

a/n: I’ve been having this idea for quite some time lol. Why did I stop ballet dancing? Idk, I was a dumb kid lmao.

“A dancer dies twice - one when they stop dancing, and this first death is painful.”

The curtains were closed as Leon walked towards his reserved seat in the house. He wasn’t like other people nowadays dressing causally, he dressed up in his fancy suit. The first button of his dress shirt unbuttoned, just the way he always preferred. He finally got himself a small vacation and what better way to enjoy the weekend than watching a group of people dance along to Tchaikovsky?

He shifted in his seat as he looked over the pamphlet of the acts. He doesn’t know a thing about ballet but he does know that he likes the emotions conveyed in the way the dancers move. Whether it was the betrayal in Swan Lake or the serene feeling of the sugarplum fairy from The Nutcracker, he loved it all. But he would never admit it to his colleagues.

The orchestra began to play in a crescendo as the curtains pulled open, revealing a group of white dressed ballerinas huddled in a circle. And that’s when that serene feeling came. The ballerinas danced in their point shoes as their skirts moved gracefully every time they did a pirouette. It felt magical and he felt a sense of relief. Leon was an analytical guy, he analyzes everything he sees and tonight was no different. For tonight, he noticed a certain new dancer. Her hair tied up in the same bun as the other ballerinas but somehow it looked better on her. The white corset she was wearing hugged her lean figure just right, her arms moved under the spotlight swiftly. As if she was a doll. This was her performance.

Leon kept attending each time he could just to watch her. To watch the way her arm and leg angled perfectly at every arabesque she did, her grand jeté followed by the common chassé. She was just breathtaking. As if her purpose was to dance all night. And she did. She was the white swan. She was Clara. For months he watched as she slowly took over the main roles, she was that good.

But all that good came down with a price. Recently, he noticed the way she started to appear less and less. She danced the lesser roles now. And he couldn’t help but wonder why? Was she okay? Is she taking care of herself? For nights he felt worried. He even searched up her name online to find her social media. But the poor man couldn’t find it. It’s like all she did was perform.

Until one day, he spotted her walking down the street from her dance studio. He was out for a smoke when he saw her in her practice clothes, backpack over her shoulders as she walked towards her car. His eyes widened at the sight and he quickly threw his cigarette on the floor and put it out with his foot. He looked both ways before crossing the street and began to make his way towards her.

She didn’t notice until he spoke out to her, “Hey, you performed last week, right?” He asked even though he knew the answer already. She turned around and looked at him surprised but quickly smiled politely.

“Yes, I did. Did you enjoy the show?” She asked in her quiet voice, she seemed tired. He couldn’t help but nod as he looked down at her. “Yeah- you were amazing.” He mumbled under his breath, his heart beating fast as he began to feel his ears turn pink. She was even more beautiful up close.

And god was her laugh even more breathtaking. She giggled at his words and that only made him want to make her laugh even more. Just to hear that beautiful laugh.

It’s been a few days after their exchange and he couldn’t help but feel like a teenage boy for being able to get her Instagram. Turns out she purposely hid her account from the ballet house. Makes sense since she looked like the type to not want to be bombarded with messages from strangers.

They texted for some time and he kept attending her shows. He even bought her flowers after one performance in which she got the main role again. His heart nearly bursted into little pieces as he watched the look of surprise and joy on her face when she saw the flowers. He wanted to make this girl happy, as much as he could. So he kept bringing her gifts. And she kept them in a special memory box. It was all so romantic.

One day, she was walking home from dance practice with her headphones on. She was talking to Leon on the phone about some minor things like how much her feet hurt and how she needed new shoes. And he listened to her, no matter how much she talked because she talked a lot. He took in every word and analyzed it. Should he buy her the shoes? He would gladly spend his money on her if it meant she’ll keep dancing. If it meant she’ll keep following her dreams.

It was all going great until she noticed a car swerving slightly. She shrugged and kept walking as she talked to Leon over the phone. The car kept getting closer and closer until it swerved right into her direction. Her instincts jumped in and she was able to dodge the car, but her leg got caught under the tire. She screamed in pain and Leon quickly tracked down her location. He got his keys and drove to her, he didn’t care how fast he was going. He needed to be there, he needed to help her.

When he parked on the side of the road, he saw her holding on her leg as the driver staggered in his walk. He was drunk, Leon thought to himself. A drunk driver just ran over a dancer. A ballet dancer’s worst dream came true in the snap of a finger. Leon felt a lot of things. Anger, frustration, sadness, he felt it all. And his heart broke even more as he saw how much she was crying. He ran to her side and quickly called the ambulance.

He sat waiting in the lobby of the hospital as she was undergoing surgery. She had suffered a bone fracture and needed immediate medical attention. He stayed up as much as he could and waited for her. He would ask any doctor how she was doing, and honestly, no one told him anything yet.

Her assigned doctor finally came out and approached Leon. He told him that she was currently sleeping from the anesthesia but that he could see her. And he rushed towards the room she was in.

He saw how she laid on the bed, peacefully sleeping. He saw how she had wires tied to her arm. He heard the sound of her heart monitor beep at a normal pace. He slowly approached her and sat on the chair next to her bed. Leon took her hand and squeezed it gently. He couldn’t do anything except wait for her to open her eyes.

And he waited.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around as her vision tried to adjust to the harsh hospital lights. She looked down at Leon’s head resting on her bed as he held on to her hand. She smiled softly until she looked down at the cast on her leg. Her face fell and her heart shattered.

Her quiet sobs reached Leon’s ears and he woke up immediately. He cupped her face with his hands and brought her to his chest as she cried. She wrapped her hands around his back and held on to him. Her whole passion and dreams were now gone. And it wasn’t even her fault.

She spent months in her bed, getting up only to eat and go to the bathroom. But that was it. Leon took the liberty to take care of her. To bathe her, to feed her, to try and distract her. But she always had that emptiness in her eyes. Her light was gone and she was no longer under the spotlight. The ballet house had to let her go since her leg was so injured she couldn’t dance ballet anymore. She could dance but just not ballet. And it broke her soul.

She would no longer wait for the curtains to open, she would no longer dance along to the orchestra, she would no longer spot Leon sitting among the crowd watching her. It was all gone.

Leon slept on the couch as he took care of her. But even from the living room he could hear her cries. He noticed the way she lost her muscle and lost weight.

He walked to her room and sat down on the side of the bed with food. “You need to eat, y/n…” he spoke softly as he laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not hungry.”

He couldn’t do anything but frown. He didn’t want to force her to get better but he also hated seeing her in this state. He would do anything to go back in time and prevented the whole thing from even happening.

He helped her shower, kneeling down against the bathtub as she had her back to him. She had her knees on her chest and hugged her legs. His fingers gently massaged the shampoo into her scalp. It wasn’t anything sexual. He was just trying to help her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled under her breath as he poured water down her hair to wash off the shampoo. He furrowed his brows and replied back in a soft voice, “What for?”

She rested her chin on her knees and continued, “For all of this. I feel like a burden to you. You could be doing better things but instead you’re taking care of my depressed ass…”

His heart broke again, his fingers stopped going through her wet hair as he tried to think of a way to reply to her. “You’re not a burden… I chose to take care of you, none of this is your fault…” he whispered softly. She frowned as he kept washing her hair, “I know but… I just feel so… empty.”

He couldn’t do anything except stare at the back of her head with a sad look. He kept washing her hair and her body in silence. He wasn’t a man of words but he hoped that his actions spoke for the lack communication. He hoped she took his actions as a way of comfort. Because he knows what it’s like to lose something you love. He knows that feeling all too well.

He helped her into some new pajamas and tucked her to bed. He was about to leave when she took hold of his wrist, “Stay.”

She wanted him to stay.

And he did. He laid down next to her on the bed. She laid her head on his chest and cried. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. His shirt getting wet from her tears but he didn’t care. Leon ran his hand through her hair as the other rubbed her back gently. Her hands gripped on his shirt as she sobbed.

Her head remained on his chest as she slept after crying. And he did not move. He stayed like he told her to. Not because he was forced, but because he wanted to.

And he’d stay all the time if he was able to.

[ohbabydollie]

goofy dad schlatt (inspo @lovable-liar)

first things first, he refuses to have ipad children, will buy them toys, books, etc. but NO ipad

30 minutes a day MAX if they do get an ipad from a family member

loves reading books to them, will do voices, bring out hand puppets, the whole works if it means they’re happy

will ask people for favors if the kid wants something

“ted, just sing the damn song for my kid”

he tends to be the more fun parent

you’ll send him and your kid to the grocery store with a list and they do come back with the items and maybe a little more

“edible cookie dough? schlatt, i didn’t put this on the list!”

“sorry doll, but the kiddo was beggin’ for it”

came back with a cat once which you were slightly upset about but it ended up being one of your favorites

“thought ya said ya didn’t want the kitty” schlatt says smiling

“shut up, she’s grown on me” you say petting the cat as it lays on your chest, cooing at it when it purrs

will do the most during christmas for your kids

putting up decorations as soon as thanksgiving is over so when they wake up they can decorate the tree with him

will make gingerbread houses, cookies, make them watch the classic movies, etc.

buys them christmas advent calendars

makes sure everything is perfect for christmas morning

reads them books at bedtime

loves tucking them in when he gets the chance

teaches his kids to play baseball and makes sure to go easy on them

if anyone else is with them he’ll scold them if they throw the ball too hard and almost hit his kid

if his kid asks what he does he just tells them that he makes videos online for money

sometimes it causes a phone call home

“my husband does make videos online and yes he yells a lot but they aren’t what you think…NO HE DOESN’T DO PORNOGRAPHY!”

lots of the single moms flirting with him at games which he has to shut down real fast

sometimes their the mother of their kids’ friends which makes pickup awkward when both of you go to pick them up

the teenage years get worse though, but that’s a story for another time

[blackenedsnow]

Hey! Could you do Chucky interacting with an autistic little girl? If you're not comfortable that's fine 🖤

unlikely friend

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Chucky & (Fem) Autistic! Reader

NOTE: Hey! I’m autistic, too, and I wanted to make this story as realistic and respectful as possible when it comes to portraying autism. The reader in this story has some traits and behaviors that I do, and I hope it comes across in a way that feels authentic.

SUMMARY: What begins as an odd encounter turns into something almost… protective.

Chucky wasn’t used to kids like this. Usually, he could get into their heads easily enough—scare them, manipulate them, whatever he needed to do to get what he wanted. But this one? You were different.

He stood in the middle of the living room, eyeing you sitting cross-legged on the floor. Your eyes were focused on a toy train you were spinning in circles, the faint hum of the wheels scraping against the wood floor filling the air. Every few moments, you'd let out a soft hum, completely absorbed in your own little world.

“Hey,” Chucky said, trying to get your attention. He wasn’t used to being ignored, especially not by a kid. Most of them either screamed or laughed when they saw him.

You didn’t respond, your focus still entirely on the toy in your hands.

Chucky narrowed his eyes. “Kid, you deaf or something? I’m talking to you.”

Nothing. No flinch, no acknowledgement that he was even there. He stepped closer, his little shoes making soft tapping sounds on the floor as he approached. When he was only a few feet away, he stared at you, his gaze narrowing.

He’d seen you around before—you lived in this house, though your parents were usually too busy to notice much of anything. But this was the first time he’d been alone with you. You didn’t seem scared of him, which was odd. Kids were usually afraid of dolls that moved on their own.

"Hey, you hear me?"

This time, you paused, your fingers stilling as you let go of the train. Slowly, you turned your head, your eyes flicking toward Chucky. But instead of fear or surprise, there was just a blank stare, like you were looking through him instead of at him.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice quiet, but direct.

Chucky raised an eyebrow. "Name’s Chucky. You know, the killer doll? Maybe you’ve heard of me? In the newspaper? Online?"

You blinked once, twice, then looked down at the train again. "I don’t like dolls."

Chucky scowled. "Great, I don’t like kids. Guess we’re even."

There was a pause as you resumed spinning the train, the rhythmic motion and quiet sound filling the silence between you. Chucky wasn’t sure what to make of you. He was used to scaring people, getting them riled up or terrified, but you? You were a complete mystery.

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to figure out what your deal was. Your movements were repetitive, your fingers fidgeting with the train, and every now and then you'd make that soft hum again, like you were calming yourself down or keeping yourself occupied. He’d seen this kind of behavior before, back when he was alive—some kids just did things differently.

"You always do that?" Chucky asked, nodding toward the toy in your hands.

You didn’t look up. "It helps me think."

"Think about what?"

"Everything," you said simply. Then, after a moment of quiet, you added, "It feels good to spin things. Makes the world quiet."

Chucky was silent for a beat. The world quiet, huh? He wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, but he understood the idea of needing things to be a little less chaotic sometimes. Hell, he’d spent enough time in chaos to know when you needed a break from it.

"So, you’re not scared of me?" he asked, changing the subject, though part of him was genuinely curious.

You glanced at him again, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him. "You’re a doll."

"Yeah, but a dangerous one."

"You don’t look dangerous. You’re small."

Chucky let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Size doesn’t matter. Trust me."

You didn’t seem too concerned, though. Instead, you set the train down and started rocking slightly where you sat, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt now. Chucky noticed your eyes darting around the room, unfocused for a moment before they settled back on the floor.

"It's loud," you muttered softly, more to yourself than to him.

Chucky frowned. There wasn’t much noise in the house—no TV blaring, no loud music—but you seemed bothered by something. He watched as you started to rock a bit more, your movements a little faster now, like you were trying to block something out.

"You... alright?" he asked, his voice unusually calm for once.

You nodded, but the rocking didn’t stop. "Sometimes there’s too much noise. In my head. I don’t like it."

Chucky wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He wasn’t exactly the comforting type, but something about the way you were reacting tugged at something inside him.

"You want me to... turn on the TV or something?" he asked, feeling a little out of his element.

"No," you whispered, "too loud."

He grumbled under his breath but stayed quiet for a moment, watching your movements slow down slightly. You were calming yourself, little by little. Chucky wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel the usual urge to scare or mess with you.

After a few minutes, you stopped rocking and looked at him again, your expression more relaxed. "Do you like spinning things?"

Chucky blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, I don't know."

You hummed softly again, then picked up the train and spun it once more. "It’s okay. Not everyone likes the same things."

There was something about the way you said it—so simple, so matter-of-fact—that made Chucky pause.

"Yeah," he muttered, "guess you’re right."

For the rest of the afternoon, Chucky stayed in the living room, watching you continue to spin your toy and hum quietly to yourself. It wasn’t the kind of company he was used to, but he had to admit—there was something almost... peaceful about it.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Leisure

Baby Billy Freeman x Preacher's Daughter!Reader

-> Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 //

Summary: Baby Billy is a guest at the Readers church. Reader is the preacher’s daughter who leads Sunday School for the young kids. Billy has taken a liking to her.

CW: age gap (reader is 21+),

a/n: I’m not really a Baptist Christian anymore and haven’t been for a long time, HOWEVER when it comes to writing things in this universe it’s almost hard to avoid writing as if the reader is a church goer. I’m trying to keep the religious aspect of it to a minimum, but if something like that upsets you I wouldn’t suggest reading. Religious trauma 🙃

~~~

A cool Southern breeze danced across your shoulders. It was Friday evening, the Sun wasn’t hardly going down yet but it would not be too long before the chill of the night fully took over.

Cold brick pressed against your back, arms crossed over your chest as you stood out front. This Chapel, which your father had pastored since you were in Kindergarten, was like a secondary home to you. Your mother smoothed down her perfectly fitting dress awaiting the guest you all would be welcoming. Your father straightened his tie, clearing his throat in preparation.

A older looking vehicle pulled into the gravel of the parking lot. Tires catching against the loose rock. A tall, thin man with platinum white hair and a huge white smile stepped out of the drivers seat. He was older, still about ten years younger than your parents.

Baby Billy Freeman. A somewhat washed up, old Christian Singer. Your father had seen his listing somewhere online and called inviting him out to your Church.

“Mr. Freeman! We are so grateful to have you here with us today,” your father approached, hand extended out in a greeting. “No need for formalities, now. You can just call me Baby Billy,” he shook your father’s hand a charming grin painting cleanly across his face. Your mother approached behind, she and Billy went through the same motions. Awkward greetings and a soft handshake. You stood back behind your parents allowing them to do the talking for the Church. Last thing you wanted to do was embarrass them.

You stood as straight as you could, hands folded in front of you. Soft, dainty smile painted your sealed lips. You watched as they talked about the church and how they could not wait to have him perform for the congregation. You observed Baby Billy. His eyes darting past your parents to get a look at you. Your stomach did a flip the first time you held eye contact with him.

That’s wrong of you. Lust is a sin after all.

You fell back as your parents turned to begin up the stairs of the church house. Allowing them to walk first. Baby Billy stopped and extended a hand to you, “And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

That pet name painted your skin pink. “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Freeman,” you smiled taking his hand in yours. “Now, now, doll. Like I told your daddy: call me Baby Billy,” he smiled staring deep into your eyes. “Of course Mr— Baby Billy,” you returned his smile.

Doll.

“She’s a quick learner,” Baby Billy turned back to following your parents. “Yep, that’s our girl. Y/N is the Sunday School teacher for the littles here,” your father spoke. Billy raised his eyebrows in response. You followed a few steps behind as your parents showed him around the walls of the church, stopping room by room to explain how the church was ran. Your chapel was no mega-church much like those of Baby Billy’s sister’s family, the Gemstones. Just a modest size domain with the seats filled on Sundays.

Your father took stance behind the poolpit, hands on both sides of the podium. Large hands smacking causing an echo from the handcrafted wooden frame. “And right here is where you’ll be standin’ on Sunday. I cannot express how grateful we are to have someone of your talent here, Baby Billy,” your father smiled.

“Yes sir, Mr. Y/L/N. God put me here for a reason, spreading the sweet gospel in his name is what I live for,” Baby Billy clapped his hands together. You all erupted in glee together. You looked out the window seeing the sun had gone down. Your mother joined you, “Well, guess we outta start heading out. Sun is gone down. Do you have a place to stay for the night, Baby Billy?”

Baby Billy coughed out a breath, covering it up with a fake smile, “Old motel down the road’s all I could get. Which is no problem, of course.”

Your father patted him on the shoulder, “No guest of our church will be staying in some drug ridden hole. We have plenty of rooms at our home, come stay with us for the night, Baby Billy.” Baby Billy’s face lit up. You had to fight your excitement when your parents started inviting him over.

Act. Casual.

“Well, I hate to impose,” Baby Billy waved off, your parents quick to insist. “That dirty motel is no place for you!” Your mother chimed. Billy’s eyes flashed in your direction. Hazel color melting your composure slightly. “I’d love to!” Baby Billy laughed, pulling your parents into an awkward forced hug. Your mind was a complete mess.

Baby Billy followed behind your parents’ car. Down the short gravel road, through the tunnel of beautiful lively trees, pulling right in front of the garage of your nicely sized home. No mansion, but a home large enough for a family to grow up in. Plenty of space for you and all your siblings when you all lived at home. Now it was just you. The house full of empty bedrooms, connected by Jack-and-Jill baths. You missed your siblings, but you loved the freedom of the entire upstairs to yourself.

Your parents got out, waiting for Billy to join them closer to the house. You lagged slightly, waiting to get out until Baby Billy was strutting his way up your driveway. You noticed how he stopped right next to you, standing so he was facing your parents.

“Well, Y/N is going to be your host for the evening, Baby Billy,” your father began. You grew hot in the face unsure what he was talking about.

“Your dad and I have some couples meetings to attend tonight for the congregation. You’ve lived here long enough to know how to make him feel like a guest, right?”

“We know you can do it, Y/N. Let Baby Billy stay in whichever room he chooses, help him carry his bags up stairs. We will be back later,” your dad patted you on the shoulder. Your mom telling you “love ya” as they both hopped back into their car, driving off.

Hesitation and embarrassment drowned you. Your throat tightening, unable to make eye contact with Baby Billy. Eyes staring into the taillights that slowly dimmed the further your parents drove off. They never really were home.

“So,” Baby Billy broke the silence, walking towards his station wagon, “Just you and me tonight, sugar?”

You blushed instantly. “I supposed it is. I’ll help you get situated for the night, Baby Billy,” you followed behind him, stopping at his trunk with him. He smiled at you, noticing how you were struggling to hold eye contact with him. “You ain’t got nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart. Baby Billy doesn’t bite,” he laughed, “Unless you want me to.” You darted your eyes up at him, cocking an eyebrow. You smiled, returning his laughter. Between the two of you, you carried all his items in one go. You led him up the stairs to the hallway of bedrooms.

“Well, this one is mine. You can have any of the other one’s you want,” you opened each door as you went down the hallway allowing him to look inside. He took an especially long time staring into yours.

Baby Billy walked into the bedroom directly next to yours. Dropping his bags onto the perfectly made bed. You followed behind him, pulling a suitcase of his. He stared out the window, hands on his hips. “It’s real nice of yall to let Baby Billy stay here,” he turned to look at you. A bright white smile painted his face. "Of course, Baby Billy," you returned his smile.

“Lemme show you around,” you turned the knob on the door leading into your connected bathroom. Showing him the way in and how to lock the door. You led him around the home, showing him the kitchen and living room. Where you hid the good snacks and drinks. The back porch that out looked the farmland your family owned.

“And that’s pretty much it,” you folded your arms over your chest, the cool air lifting your hair off your shoulders.

“If ya don’t mind me asking, sweetheart,” Baby Billy’s southern drawl rolled off his tongue as he looked out over your porch. “What’s a beautiful young girl like you doing hid out here?”

You sighed, leaning your body against the railing. “Daddy makes us live at home until we’re married,” you frowned. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it and joining you leaned over the railing. Glowing embers caught your eyes in the dark. "Your old man's smart for hiding you away. I'm sure you would be a heartbreaker," Baby Billy smiled lips drawling from the cigarette. You chuckled knowing not many boys had shown interest in you, not more than wanting a casual hookup. You looked up at the stars glimmering above the beautiful farmland.

Baby Billy admired you in the darkness. The dull glow from inside the house painting your figure. You caught his eye from the moment he stepped foot from his car.

"What about you? Your wife must be lonely while you travel," you questioned, not seeing a ring on his finger.

Baby Billy laughed, blowing smoke. "There ain't no wife to miss me," hazel eyes looked you up and down. You raised your eyebrows with his response. You were sure someone like him would be married. You could not deny the joy that filled you knowing he wasn't.

You yawned. It was nearing the night's end. You stretched, "Think I'm gonna head up and get ready for bed."

He flicked his cigarette over the edge of the porch, "I'm right behind ya." Baby Billy followed closely behind you, up the stairs. You leaned against the doorframe of the room he had chose. You watched as Baby Billy pulled his pajamas from his suitcase.

"You gonna stand there and watch me change?" he looked over his shoulder smirking at you. Your face flooded with heat and embarrassment. "S-Sorry," you straightened your posture, eyes on the floor. "No need to be sorry, doll. You can stand there as long as you want," Baby Billy teased. You lingered for a moment. Taking the time to really take in every one of his features. You walked into his room, Baby Billy turned to face you. Getting closer to him than you normally would a guest. Heavy eyes stared at yours, scanning your face for what you were doing. You ran your finger under his jaw, "Goodnight, Baby Billy." You walked over to the door of the shared bathroom, going through it to your own room. "Goodnight," Baby Billy sighed, watching you until the door closed.

This was gonna be a fun weekend.

~~~

[END//Part 1]

~ Thank you for reading! I really love writing for Baby Billy he is such a fun character. If you are interested in being tagged in future parts, let me know! ~

[tags]

@its-in-the-woods ~ @hiddlebatchedloki ~ @justme12200 ~ @vaultdwellingghoullover ~ @one-of-thewalkingdead ~ @toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @ryankaylamartin96 ~ @heif ~ @itsyellow ~ @cat-shepard ~ @dichromaniac ~ @ivyinthesun ~ @vivalanegan ~ @nerdragenewvegas ~ @tindropp ~ @megangovier ~ @stankface ~

[desertdollranch]

As 'Barbie' becomes the only billion-dollar blockbuster solely directed by a woman, one doll maker in the Bay Area is hoping to break barriers of her own.

When 3-year-old Jillian Mak asked for her first doll last year, her mom, Elenor Mak, couldn't wait to get her one.

But her excitement turned to disappointment the moment she set foot in the store. 

"There were rows and rows of Caucasian dolls [with] blond hair and blue eyes," she said. "And then, on the very side, there were these ethnic characters that looked ambiguously Asian, Latina. You just weren't sure."

She ended up buying the closest thing she could find, a doll with big green eyes and dark brown hair. But the idea that in 2022 she couldn't find a single accurate Asian American doll, in San Francisco of all places, was hard to wrap her mind around. 

"Dolls are not just a toy that's in passing," she explained. It's the child's first imaginary friend. It's the child trying to make sense of the world."

That's when Elenor Mak decided to do something about it. She started by doing an online search for "How to make a doll?"  

Then, she searched for an Asian toy maker. For the next few months, they researched everything from eye shape to skin tones to hair color.  

"We would go out in the sun and look at our black hair and compare it to these samples," she said. 

While there were a few Asian American dolls by big-name companies like American Girl, she thought they were "too stereotypical."

"We talk about how she loves sports," she said. "It's not a traditional association."

She named her doll Jilly Bing — Jilly for her daughter's nickname, and Bing is the Chinese word for cookie. One of Jilly's accessories is a hat that flips into an egg tart.

"We wanted kids to have fun and delight in learning about different Asian foods," she said.

Maria Teresa Hart, the author of the book 'Doll,' said being able to see yourself in them is critical. 

"We have all of our feelings and assumptions about society are all contained in these toys and children are smart they do pick up on that" she said. "They may not be able to articulate it as well as we can, but they do understand what is being shown to them."

Elenor Mak is now planning a whole cast of "lovable characters" she said will reflect the entire Asian American experience, including bi-racial dolls. 

Jilly Bing, which sells for $68 online, seems to have struck a chord, the dolls began shipping on Aug. 1, with hundreds of pre-orders. 

But the only customer that really matters is the one living in her house. 

When asked what she loved most about Jilly Bing, 3-year-old Jillian exclaimed: "Everything!"

[qhimberly]

For those of you who don’t know, I like dolls lol. I love doll houses and miniatures, and have built up a collection just to enjoy being a kid again sometimes. I got the official Canada and China nendoroids, and put their heads on some ob11 bodies that I bought online so they can change clothes. I also made my own Norway and Iceland. I just wanted to share my love for all things that make me happy. If you’re able, I encourage you to feed your inner child too (within reason).

[g00ngala]

i see some push back these days at the idea of "fandom adults" because there are plenty of adult fans of children's media who aren't automatically uncomfortable to be around, and especially because people who tend to love children's media to a "weird" degree are usually autistic people. but to me an adult fan and Fandom Adult are completely different concepts. i have literally no problem with 30 year olds who collect ducktales merchandise, or know everything there is to know about teenage mutant ninja turtles, or even adults who watch and love modern cartoons for children ranging anywhere from the owl house to the amazing world of gumball to fucking bluey. in fact, i think that's fucking awesome! i think that genuinely loving something so much even if it's intended for a younger audience most of the time is great! i think people who know everything there is to know about the ice age movies keep this world spinning. there's nothing i enjoy more than somebody telling me everything they know about something they care about.

HOWEVER. the problem begins when you get legions of adult fans in fandom spaces primarily for kids that expect the show or the fandom space to cater to THEM. when a bunch of adults start getting very invested in shipping child characters to an uncomfortable degree or expecting the show to be darker than it is and enjoy these things through an extremely skewed lens, sometimes getting into fights online with teenagers because that teenager said that the adult's favorite non canon pairing makes them uncomfortable, THAT fucking sucks. when you start to try and force kids media to cater to YOU, that is the problem. we see it now in many fan spaces here on tumblr, but if we go back in some years with internet history this can be applied to the brony movement as well. i think a bunch of adult men coming together because of their love for a show about magical ponies and friendship fucking rules, but a good chunk of these men either wanted to mold the show into something it wasn't, pushing out its intended audience from the online space or even worse making nsfw content of the characters which is where the actual problem began.

so if I'm hating on fandom adults, know that i am never talking about the autistic person who loves my little pony and collects all of the dolls, i am talking about the person who refuses to acknowledge that not all spaces should cater towards you.