#and bought another stuffed frog

[jupitercomet]

The Trial Run: Chapter One

summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.

warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley, language, underage drinking, allusions to sex, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you’d like, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

the trial run masterlist

“Remind me again why I have to go to this?” Natasha eyes Giselle’s collection of waterproof mascaras wearily, her apprehension thinly disguised on her face.

Giselle sighs, setting down her mascara wand—Dior, you note—and locks eyes with Natasha through her vanity mirror. “It’s the sorority’s last party until finals. You’re going, Nat.”

You giggle when Natasha plops down on the bed next to you with a loud groan and prod her gently with your toe. “It’ll give you an excuse to wear that swimsuit you bought a few weeks ago,” you offer. “And maybe Mickey will be there.”

“As if he’d be caught dead at a Delta Nu party.”

“Reuben’s going, and Bob is too, I think. He’ll probably be there, Nat,” Giselle pipes up from her vanity stool, applying another layer of mascara. From behind her, you and Natasha lock eyes, a mischievous look mirrored in both of your expressions.

“Ooh, Reuben’s going, huh?” You roll forward on Giselle’s bed so that your face is just behind her shoulder. “Is that why we’re going? So you can suck face with Reuuubeen?” You sing out his name, dodging Giselle’s hand that tries to shove your head away as Natasha joins in your laughter.

“‘Suck face’? What are you? 12?” Giselle huffs, cheeks pinkening as you fall back on the mattress.

You let out an overdramatic, offended gasp. “That’s not nice! How would Reuben feel knowing you bully your friends?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Giselle puts down her makeup with a glare, but there’s a smile she can’t fight off her lips. She jumps on you suddenly, grabbing a decorative pillow as Natasha moves out of the way. Letting out a startled laugh, you try to wriggle out from under her when she hits you with the pillow. “How’s this for bullying?”

“Nat! Nat, help!” You laugh, flailing dramatically and knocking a few of Giselle’s Squishmallows off her bed.

Natasha shakes her head with a snort. Having moved away the moment Giselle pounced, she’s now watching the two of you from the hardwood floor. “I’m good.”

“Wow,” you gape at her, ignoring the plush hitting the side of your head as you lean up to look at her. “I see how it is. You guys hate me.”

Giselle scoffs with a laugh, stopping her pillow attack and getting off you. “And you have a victim complex.”

“I see someone’s paying attention in psych,” you quip, stretching out to pick up all the stuffed animals you knocked over. You pluck a piece of fuzz off of Mr. Pickles, a Build-A-Bear frog you’d gifted Giselle for her eighth birthday, brushing off his overalls before setting him down against her pillows.

You gnaw your lip in thought, keeping your eyes trained on Mr. Pickles, before you suck in a breath. “Will, um, will the Sigma Chi guys be there?”

“I think so,” Giselle’s back at her vanity, mouth dropped as she finishes applying the coat of mascara you interrupted. “Why?”

“No reason, just… just wanted to know. Since me and Bob are fifth wheeling.”

“If anything, Bob and Mickey are fifth wheeling. I’d ditch Mickey for you in a heartbeat.” Having moved back to sit next to you, Natasha shoves your shoulder with her own good-naturedly. 

Giselle, however, narrows her eyes slightly in faux suspicion, turning around on her vanity stool to look at you. “But what’s that gotta do with the Sigma Chi guys?”

It seems to register for Natasha too, who perks up beside you, and you grab Mr. Pickles to hide your fluster. It only spurs Giselle on though, as she narrows her eyes further. 

“No. Stop it,” you point at her warningly. “I do not have a crush. I was only asking because last time, you guys ditched me and I had to listen to Jake talk about NFTs for two hours.”

There’s a part of you that feels bad about lying to your best friend, but you soothe the guilt by insisting it was a half lie.

You know your friends didn’t purposefully mean to ditch you and, truly, you take no offense to it. They’re just getting caught up in their first college relationships, you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same. But it did mean that you occasionally found yourself alone at the frat and sorority parties Giselle could manage to drag you to.

For a while, you had Bob to keep you company. And usually, for the beginning of the night, he still does. You both catch up on classes and homework, swapping notes about professors—you’re thankful he’s also an English major because you’ve been able to register for a few classes together next year. But even he is enticed by the allure of sorority sisters so eventually you wave him off and find yourself sitting somewhat awkwardly in a corner until your friends are ready to go.

And it isn’t like you want to be the tag along—though Giselle and Natasha insist you aren’t. In the beginning, you and Bob had taken the hint of being the last two left single and went on a few dates. They were fun, and you liked hanging out with Bob, just the two of you, but it was clear to you both that you were just friends. You’re painfully and childishly in love with someone else and Bob figured that out on your very first date.

Giselle was slightly bummed that it didn’t work out between the two of you, but you assured her you were fine. Though you do get ditched occasionally, for the most part your group of friends all stick together. It’s rare that you honestly feel left out and if you do… There's always Jake and his NFTs.

Finally Giselle relents and you let out a silent breath of relief. “Well, good because, as someone who’s forced to know them, anyone associated with my brother is not worth your time.” Giselle gives her lashes one last check in the mirror before patting for you to sit down on her vanity stool. “Besides, in that suit I picked out for you? I won’t be the only one sucking face, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not sucking face with a stranger, Giselle, have some decorum.”

“But you could though. What about Landon? He’s pretty cute.” Giselle’s fingers glide over her mascara tubes. She had perfected a pool party makeup routine over the years and both you and Natasha indulge her by letting her help you get ready.

Again you wrinkle your nose, looking up as Giselle pumps the mascara a few times—ultimately deciding on a Pacifica one. “Bob had geography with him last semester and, apparently, he spews off some of the stupidest shit. I think I’ll pass.”

“Hmm—Blink—there’s Tanner?” Giselle holds the mascara wand to your eye. From behind you, you hear the door close as Natasha goes to change into her swimsuit. You snort when she shouts a “Good luck!” over her shoulder.

“Giselle,” you laugh, blinking again when she moves the wand to your other eye. “Please stop trying to set me up with every living, breathing man.”

“I’m not!” She protests, and you grab her hand to let her know you’re partially joking.

“I get you don’t want me to feel left out, but I promise I don’t.”

Giselle sighs, looking down guiltily until you nudge her leg with your own. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m going to ditch you now that everyone’s coming back to California with us for the summer.”

“Giselle, please, I’ve long since accepted that I’ve been replaced with Reuben—” You cut yourself off with a laugh when she whines your name.

“That’s not funny!”

Your eyes crinkle in a grin. “I’m kidding. We’re gonna have a perfect time this summer, and you’re gonna suck all the Reuben face you want, and I’m gonna be fine. Deal?” You stick your pinky out.

“Deal,” Giselle wraps her pinky around yours resolutely before picking up the Pacifica mascara again. “But I’m telling you, you’re gonna look so good tonight that even Sigma Chi won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Bradley’s jaw ticks in annoyance when a downpour of water droplets land on his forearm and chest, the culprit being a freshman who reemerged from his cannonball with a loud holler. Bradley doesn’t understand why Delta Nu even invites freshmen, but then he recalls how they wait on the girls practically hand and foot. He scoffs. Freshman boys are so eager to please.

Still, they’re a nuisance, splashing him with water and encroaching on his time with Makayla. They’re just puppies when he thinks about it, tripping over themselves and practically drooling at the sight of any pretty, older girl in a bikini. Bradley knows he sure as hell wasn’t like that as a freshman. He didn’t need to be, not when he always had girls chasing after him.

Well, except one girl.

Makayla Cunningham had been unattainable to Bradley from the second he stepped foot into Sigma Chi. And the worst part is that she’s perfect for him. The president of Delta Nu, who comes from a wealthy, recognized family. Not once had she so much as looked at another member of Sigma Chi, hardly ever going on dates with college guys period, and, on top of all of that, she’s the hottest girl on campus. She’s successful, drop-dead gorgeous, and unattainable—it’s like the universe was handing Bradley the perfect girl. Except for the fact that she wants nothing to do with him.

Though he wants Makayla, Bradley certainly isn’t abstinent, and he’s built up a bit of a reputation. A reputation that Makayla isn’t fond of. He’s tried to convince her that she’s different, that she’s perfect for him unlike the other girls he’s slept with, but she refuses to hear it.

But, with his senior year on the horizon, Bradley is determined to have her hear it. He knows Makayla loves his attention, she wouldn’t play this game of cat and mouse if she didn’t, but even she has to admit that they’re running out of time.

It unfortunately seems Makayla’s chosen to play games tonight anyway, as she’s been entertaining freshman since Bradley got here, only shooting him sultry smirks when she can tell he’s losing interest. So now he’s sitting between Jake and Javy, getting splashed by freshman boys doing cannonballs and watching them flirt pathetically with his girl. Stupid fucking freshmen. Bradley can’t believe he’s going to have a whole flock of them staying at his house for the summer.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit,” Bradley gets up with a growl, interrupting Javy who’s been recounting another party he went to the weekend before. He ignores the protests of his friends, making his way to the keg of beer set up in the backyard.

As if everyone can tell what kind of mood he’s in—or maybe it’s just because he’s Bradley Bradshaw—the crowds part and no one stops him for small talk. It only seems to sour his mood more though. If Makayla wants to spend her night with puny freshman Bradley’s not going to stop her, but he certainly isn’t going to sit there and watch her either. Instead, his night’s panning out the way it usually does and he’s going to wake up with a killer hangover and a random girl in his bed.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a couple of freshmen, Bradley.”

Bradley turns around from the keg with a flat expression. Makayla’s standing in front of him, flimsily hiding her smirk behind a red solo cup. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he rips his gaze away from her to look out at the party surrounding them. “‘M not jealous. Just thirsty.”

“Right,” Makayla teases. 

It’s quiet as Bradley takes a sip of his beer, the silence almost uncomfortable as he swallows.

“My answer’s still no, Bradley.”

He hums, his tone slightly bored when he responds. “And why’s that?”

“Because you’re not a boyfriend,” Makayla laughs. “Like, I’d hook up with you—”

“You know that’s not what I want,” Bradley cuts in.

“Well, I don’t want a boyfriend who’s gonna treat me like a hookup.”

Bradley’s jaw ticks again. “I’m not gonna treat you like a hookup.”

“Bradley, you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Makayla laughs incredulously. “You wouldn’t know how to treat me right.”

“You think that just because I don’t date means I don’t know how to treat a girl?” Bradley scoffs, taking another sip of his beer.

Makayla pauses for a moment, saying nothing for several seconds. Suddenly, she turns to him with a challenge in her voice. “Fine. You think you can be a good boyfriend? Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it,” Makayla sounds more resolute and, again, that smirk is on her face. “If you think you know how to treat me, prove it to me.”

“And how the fuck would I do that?” Bradley cinches his brows. 

Makayla looks around the party, her eyes mischievous as she turns back to Bradley with a sugar sweet smile. “If you can prove to me that you can keep a girlfriend the entire summer, I’ll go out with you. Think of it as a trial period.”

“You serious?” Bradley can’t help the smirk growing on his face. He hardly considers it a challenge, not when there’s a campus full of girls who do just about anything to be called his girlfriend. “I just gotta keep a girlfriend for a couple months?”

“Hold it, hotshot, I didn’t finish. I pick the girl,” Makayla grins when Bradley’s expression drops. Her eyes go back to trailing over the college students swimming and lounging in her backyard. “I know you, Bradley, and I know there’s plenty of girls that would let you treat them like shit and stay with you regardless. No, she needs to be someone desperate enough to get with you before summer, but not insecure enough to stick around.” Her eyes still suddenly, lighting up as they take in your figure smiling along with your friends but still clearly an odd one out.

Makayla smirks. “Her.”

Bradley squints at you, pursing his lips. You’re pretty at least, and there’s something about you that seems familiar even though he’s never seen you before. He watches as you speak animatedly to a girl whose back is facing him. You’re smiling brightly before you throw your head back with a laugh.

“Just the summer? And you’ll go out with me?” He checks.

“You last the summer,” Makayla nods, “and I’ll go out with you, Bradley. Deal?” She holds her hand out.

Bradley looks away from you, grabbing Makayla’s hand in his own. “Deal.”

“Oh,” you giggle to Natasha, looking down at your empty cup. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Despite your hesitance, you’re actually having a good time. The late spring air feels nice on your skin and the air has dropped a bit to make it the perfect temperature. Though you’ll never tell her, you think Giselle was right, you needed this party to remind you that summer was just around the corner.

You make your way around a group of sorority girls, smiling politely and nodding to the ones who recognize you. When Giselle first told you she was joining a sorority, you and Natasha hadn’t exactly been thrilled about the idea. You’ve come around to it more now—the girls aren’t nearly as mean as movies make them out to be, but you can’t lie that you’re still slightly scared of them.

Shaking off the thought to continue your quest for a drink, you pick up your pace to reach the cooler of beers and soda that’s been haphazardly set on the grassy lawn. You search through the cubes of ice, smiling delightedly when your hands find a Sprite. You grab a straw from the cup beside the cooler, opening your can and popping it in to take a much needed sip of your lemon lime soda.

Maybe there’s a part of you that’s a bit buzzed from the few sips of Mickey’s drink you tried earlier because, when you stand up from the cooler too quickly, you’re knocked completely off balance. You take a couple steps back to catch yourself—your feet trying to catch up with the rest of your body.

“Hey, now,” a low voice sends shivers down your spine, two large hands holding your hips in place and stilling your feet. Calloused skin seeps warmth around the ties of your bikini bottoms. “Careful, sunshine.”

You take a nervous sip of your drink as if that will delay the inevitable, turning around slowly as your teeth clench down and flatten your straw. The sight before you almost makes you trip again and—somehow worse—reminds you that hands are still holding you up by your hips. 

In front of you is a wet, shirtless Bradley Bradshaw, ball cap slung backwards on his head to hide the wet strands of curled caramel that are slicked against his scalp. Your eyes trail down to follow the beads of water rolling across the divots and dips of his abdomen, his relaxed muscles glistening in the setting sun. You can’t look away from the water droplets until they physically disappear, absorbing into the waistband of his swim shorts—which hang so low that his defined hips are completely on display, tan skin taut against his muscles and bones. You swallow thickly. 

When you manage to pull your gaze away, Bradley is smirking at you, fingers fiddling with the strings of your bikini, making it very apparent that he’d caught your borderline awe of his body.

“Um, nice, um, nice bathing suit,” you try to cover and, had it not been more embarrassing to have Bradley see you cringe at your own words, you would have.

Bradley lets out a light snort, shoulders jumping slightly with the air that leaves his nose. “You too.”

His hands are still on your hips, a position far too intimate considering it seems like he doesn’t even recognize you. Your heart sinks a bit at that. For a lot of her friends, growing up with Giselle Bradshaw meant inevitably having a crush on Bradley. You weren’t quite special in that regard, you’re just unlucky enough to have never grown out of it. Even almost a decade later, he still makes your cheeks hot and your knees jelly.

However, you’re still coherent enough to know that, if you let Bradley continue playing with your bikini bottoms, you’ll do something far more embarrassing than just ogle him. Subtly you take a step back, putting some much needed space in between the two of you. Part of you thinks you’re only imagining it, but Bradley almost seems disappointed that you did.

He recovers from it quickly though, taking his hat off to rake a hand through his hair before putting it back on. “Sorry.” You have to physically stop your eyebrows from raising. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Bradley apologize before. “Didn’t mean to almost knock you out.”

“No, it was— It was my fault. I should have watched where I was going...” you trail off quietly, keeping your eyes trained on your drink.

When you say nothing more, Bradley wets his lips. “You got a name, sunshine?”

“You—” That gets you to look at him and you hope you don’t come off as hurt as you feel. “You wanna know my name?”

You and Bradley had never been close, you know that and you never tried to pretend that you were. But you’ve been Giselle’s best friend since you were five years old. You spent more summers at her house than you did your own. You never expected Bradley to consider you friends, but you thought he would have at least recognized you.

You don’t know if you should be grateful that Bradley is oblivious to your inner monologue, but he is, a smirk growing on his face as he mistakes your dejectedness for humility. “That so hard to believe?”

You want to say yes. Yes, it is, given that you’ve known him for 14 years of your life. But before you can even begin to piece any words together, you hear a loud shout of your name. Giselle’s feet scamper across the concrete pool deck as she laughs out apologies to the people she’s weaving through to get to you. There’s a bright smile on her face—that quickly dissolves at the sight of her older brother.

“Is he bothering you?” Giselle glares at Bradley accusingly, but the elder Bradshaw doesn’t even seem to notice, his eyes tracing over you in genuine shock as your name falls from his lips in a soft mumble. You watch a flicker of recognition pass over his features.

“Shit.”

Taking a step closer to Giselle, you purse your lips as you realize what’s happened. Bradley’s embarrassed that he tried flirting with you now that he knows it’s you. You clear your throat softly. “Thanks for catching me, Bradley. It was, um, nice to see you again.”

With that you turn around, ignoring Giselle’s pestering questions as you let her lead you back to Natasha and the rest of your friends. Humiliation burns at your shoulders and neck and you’re far too modified to even attempt looking back at Bradley. You try to drown it all out with a long sip of your drink, letting Giselle distract you as you do your best to forget all about her older brother.

Behind you, Bradley watches the back of your white bathing suit for a moment, before he tips his head back and runs a hand over his face. Bradley groans. “I am so fucked.”

“Sunshine!”

You almost think you're hallucinating when you see Bradley Bradshaw waiting outside the department building your class was in. But you know you’re hallucinating when it seems like he’s waiting for you. You go on as normal, not looking at him as you continue your usual route to the library. He’s certainly not talking to you and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself for the second time. 

There’s a sound of footsteps, though there always is right after classes get let out, so you think nothing of it until there’s a blur of navy blue in your peripheral. You furrow your brows, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and the navy blue slows to a stop with you. Your head has to crane up to look at him and your eyes widen when it finally clicks in your brain that Bradley is standing in front of you in a tight fitting navy blue t-shirt.

“Bradley?”

He grins, running a hand through his hair. His biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. “Were you just planning on ignoring me?”

“I didn’t—” You open and close your mouth a couple times, having to take a step closer to Bradley when someone tries to pass you both on the sidewalk. “Is Giselle okay?”

“What?” Now it’s Bradley’s turn to look almost as confused as you.

You genuinely don’t think this could get anymore embarrassing and you look down so you don’t get flustered by Bradley’s honey brown eyes—because that’s the last thing you need right now. “Sorry, I just assumed… that’s why you’d be talking to me.”

Bradley almost seems to wince at that, but you’re sure you’re imagining it. Really you just want to get out of here and you’re trying to come up with a feasible excuse when Bradley looks somewhere over your head. You’re about to say something when his hands are suddenly on your hips and he’s yanking you into him with a force that has you tripping. You let out a yelp as you collide with his chest, your hands pressing against the firm muscles of his chest.

The answer to this sudden movement comes in the form of a group of three girls walking right where you had been moments ago. Bradley looks down at you, the corner of his lip lifting in a lopsided smile. “Sorry.” There he was apologizing again. “I got a thing for almost tripping you, huh?” He lifts one of his hands to scratch the back of his neck after a moment when you don’t respond. “So, where you headed?”

“The, um, the library.”

“Me too,” Bradley lights up slightly.

You have to physically close your mouth before you blurt out your surprise at that statement. Because Bradley doesn’t study. Most of the time Bradley doesn’t even go to his classes, Giselle is always complaining about how he just shows up for the exams and somehow always passes.

“Okay…” you trail off. You really don’t want to go to the library with him. Not when you’re still close enough to him that his cologne is dizzying and one of his hands is still on your hip and he’s looking at you with those big, brown eyes—

Yeah, you have to go.

“Oh,” you pretend to wince. “I left something I need in my dorm. I should probably go back to get it.”

Bradley deflates slightly, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He wets his lips. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”

Your grip tightens on your backpack straps and you can only manage a small nod.

“Will you go on a date with me?” 

You blink. And then again. And again. “What?”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley smiles like he hasn’t just destroyed all that you believe to be true about the world in three seconds. “I’ll take you to mini golf, we'll get some food after.”

“Mini golf?”

Bradley’s smile falters. “Or— Or something else, I guess. What do you want to do?”

“No, I mean—” You try to build up some courage from the fact that Bradley appears to be losing some of his. “You want to go on a date with me?”

“That so hard to believe?” Bradley repeats his words from the weekend and, again, you find yourself wanting to tell him that yes, it is.

Your entire life, Bradley has never once paid you any attention and now he’s suddenly flirting with you at pool parties and asking you on dates. Maybe Giselle really was right about that bikini.

“Okay,” you say finally.

Bradley pauses. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, letting out a breath to steady yourself. “I’ll go on a date with you, Bradley.”

I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold​​ if you want to be notified when I post

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw au #rooster imagine #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster angst #rooster au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #the trial run #buggy’s got a pen

[strawbs-screaming]

punch out boxers and what i think they had as a childhood stuffie + some extra guests

As a break from that one Forbidden™ post, heres something fluffy, sorry if the translations suck im using a translator

Glass Joe - a cat plushie with dark blue button eyes, lovingly named "Jojo" after himself, think of a calico cat for its pattern and its built like a teddy bear except for its head & tail

Von Kaiser - a teddy bear, creatively named "Bär" (means bear in german, i know how creative this is) suprisingly squeaky clean with a few stitches and a eye missing

Disco Kid - a koala named "Mr. Dance" that he regularly gave concerts to along with dance performances and talked to a lot, a bit pink since he accidentally messed up while washing it but still loved nonetheless, mr dance is a real one

King Hippo - a hippo plushie made from rags with souless button eyes he made a crown for, he got the name inspo from his plushie since it was named "King hippo", he jokingly refers to himself as "King hippo the second" if anyone knows about the original hippo

Piston Hondo - a frog plushie that is also suprisingly clean with a copy of his headband on it with a red belt, smells like mint for some reason named "マスターフロッグ" (master frog)

Bear Hugger - a stuffed salmon plushie handmade by a friend, smells like death and has a bite taken from it because he bit it while dreaming & ate a chunk from it

Great Tiger - a tiger plushie with sunglasses named "awesome man" (i couldnt find a proper translator and google translate sucks so im writing it in english) that smells like his dads perfume with a few cuts & a eye holding on for dear life, he performed magic tricks for it and made it have drama with his clones

Don Flamenco - a flamingo plushie with a red scarf around its neck, patched up with colorful fabrics, named it after himself, its eyes also happen to be missing, he argued with it constantly and fought it for no reason

Aran Ryan - a giraffe plushie named "spots" that has seen some stuff, half of its face missing, constantly wet (think of that webkinz plushie post) probably moldy with thousands of stitches & patches that smells like spoiled milk

Soda Popinski - a husky plushie with blue beady eyes, somehow in one piece except for one eye gone & sewn up nicely, named "Охотник" (Hunter) that smells like your grandmas house, lovingly hugged and tucked in along with him

Bald Bull - a sheep plushie, somewhat yellowish fur & glittery eyes named "kuzucuk" (no exact translation for this, kuzu means sheep and -cuk and most verbs similiar to it is usually added to mean little, either in a rude way or a cute way) that is always really warm and smells like cinnamon, he has sobbed into that plushie right after decking it in the face many times

Super Macho Man - a dino plushie (specifically a t-rex) named "Chompers" that has a few bitemarks on it and reeks of glue, he made it act out godzilla

Mr Sandman - a squirrel plushie named "Ms. Walnut" that has a portion of its tail missing and has one button eye and another stitched up eye, he always talked to it for advice and apologized to it after he punched it from anger, he always imagined Ms. Walnut's voice as a posh british lady when he made it speak

Doc Louis - a crocodile plushie named "Pickle" that reeks of pickles somehow, tail sewn in a half-assed way, always rko'd for some reason

Little Mac - a polar bear plushie, gifted to him from doc when he was first adopted named "tiny mac" stitched up lovingly, he still has it and is not ashamed, not one bit (me too bestie, shout out to that one pikachu plushie i bought with my own money at a bazaar and still hug every night)

Carmen - clown plushie with a dress very similiar to hers named "Señorita Payasa" (Miss Clown), the reason she has a polka dress is because of her and was the main reason she loves clowns

Narcis Prince - a horse plushie named "horsey" that is loved very much, always accompanied him with his imaginary tea parties, sewn up in the stomach nicely (he secretly still has it and still loves it very much shh shut up)

Gabby Jay - a handmade doll of him by his grandma, called "Gabs" for short, always held it close to his heart and sprayed his perfume on it, no injuries (unlike gabby jay himself LMAOO) , no dirt, and no trauma, beloved

Pizza Pasta - a flour bag with eyes drawn on, stuffed with fluff (with no flour thankfully) named "L'uomo della farina" (flour man) with a lot of patches, bitten very often

#punch out #headcanon #punch out wii #punch out headcanons #Punch out snes #punch out arcade #yeah ill tag them all #don flamenco #aran ryan #bald bull #glass joe #piston hondo #great tiger #gabby jay #bear hugger #disco kid #von kaiser #narcis prince #carmen punch out #pizza pasta #doc louis #little mac #king hippo #super macho man #mr sandman #soda popinski

[idoninjagoheadcanons]

do you think the ninja would have any plushies/stuffed animals

Oh, for sure. They all have different plushies for different reasons, but they do all own plushies.

Jay: Jay canonically has a stuffed animal named Mister Cuddlywomp, and that thing is just so beaten and loved. It has patches on its patches, and it looks more like a monster than a Teddy Bear. Jay loves it so much, though, and the others can’t bear to make him get rid of it. It’s probably the only plushie Jay had for a long time, due to him growing up in a junkyard and then the ninja not really having a lot of extra spending money. However, you can bet that when he was able to, he bought another Teddy Bear to keep alongside Mr. Cuddlywomp. He also has a dragon one that has reversible sparkles that was a gift from the other Ninja.

Zane: Zane feels like a guy who likes toys that have fun sensory things, like weight, crinkle paper, and reversible sparkles. They are often used as something akin to a stress toy. Zane finds that they are very soothing to hold and fidget with. He has a kangaroo one, a teddy bear, and a dragon one.

Cole: He definitely got a bunch of stuffed animals for free from various concerts he went to as a kid, but he wasn’t a big fan of them cause they were pretty small and Cole is a fan of bigger stuffed animals. As a joke, someone gave him a giant teddy bear and he loves it. Aside from that, he has a dragon that looks like Rocky and a stuffed panda.

Kai: He never had any chance to get stuffed animals, due to him focusing on raising Nya. After all, he had to be an adult and make sure there was food on the table. He didn’t really get into the stuffed animal thing until Lloyd got him a dragon plushie after the Overlord was defeated for the first time. He promised Lloyd that he would sleep with it, because he might think that it was dumb but it was Lloyd and Lloyd never liked asking for things. So Kai slept with it, and he realized that it was actually very comforting to have. It was like having his siblings with him. Kai still sleeps with it to this day.

Nya: Nya had a few, small stuffed animals when she was little, because while Kai was willing to give up things like that, he would be damned if he didn’t allow his little sister to have them. Nya had a robot plushie and a small bunny as a kid that she still keeps to this day. She also got a blue sea dragon plushie from Jay.

Lloyd: Poor guy never had any plushies as a kid, because of being raised to be evil. He tried to get a few as a kid, but they were almost always stolen/destroyed. So when he could get stuffed animals, he was incredibly excited. He has a stuffed dinosaur, a frog, a dragon, a lizard, a bear, and a snake. He has them all lined up in a nice little pile on his bed.

(Also, I want to see if anyone gets the connection between them all. It should be fairly obvious.)

Anyway, that is my headcanons on the ninja and their stuffed animals! I hope this is satisfactory!

#ninjago #ninjago headcanons #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd garmadon #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #ninjago zane #stuffed animals #soft headcanons

[taavisplushies]

all the stuffed animals i’ve gotten as gifts, and who got me them!

(long post warning)

⬆️ this is astra! i got her for christmas one year as a kid! i’m thinking it was from my mom but i’m not 100% sure.

⬆️ say hi to bbq sauce! my evil niece got me him as a gift, she found him at a garage sale! (btw i don’t call her evil to be mean. she’s just normally a very evil person. she stabbed me once)

⬆️ berto! my mom got him from krogers. i was feeling really depressed around the time and this was to cheer me up!

⬆️ say hi to big smooch! my friend hayden got this for me as a gift. i think it was a late christmas present but i’m not 100% sure!

⬆️ this is evil dude, another plush from my evil niece! he’s from a garage sale.

⬆️ fuzzy! yet another gift from my evil niece. wow, i’m sure making it seem like she’s not evil at all lol!

⬆️ say hi to garbage bag! this is a gift from my dad :) my dad normally doesn’t get me stuffed animals because he thinks i’m too old for them. so when he got me this it meant a lot!

⬆️ say hi to hopscotch! she’s a gift from my friend chris :) i bought chris a peepy a while ago and they bought me this frog in return which was super nice! i told them it was okay, and they didn’t have to get me anything, but they insisted!

⬆️ this is jeremy. he’s a christmas gift from my favorite niece! yes i know picking favorites is bad but you don’t get it. she’s like my own kid! i babysit her so much and sometimes people even think i’m her mom lol (makes me feel old tho bc if i was her mom, i’d have given birth at 11 years old oof)

⬆️ say hi to legs! another gift from my favorite niece :) she found him at a garage sale

i’ll reblog this with the rest of them!

#oops im rambling #list #gifts

[davnittbraes]

The Fourth Step - Chapter Thirty-Four

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5100

Warnings, etc.: anxiety, angst, mentions of strict religious code in a negative context, fluffy fluff, silly banter because it’s these two, SMUT, Mando’s Fingering Skills™️, squirting, a good old fashioned prone bone, I’ve always wanted to use that sentence somehow and I’m delighted to have finally done so, tender afterglow moment that hurt my heart to write

Notes: this chapter is like a parfait - a layer of domesticity, a dollop of heart-to-heart conversation, a whole-ass scoop of sexytimes and a cherry on top of introspection. Enjoy and please brush your teeth afterwards.

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

“Well, pfassk.” 

You press down on the lid of the storage crate again, but it still doesn’t quite close enough for the latches to catch. 

Throwing the lid open, you glare at the contents inside. “Which one of you is causing the problem?”

Quiet is the only response, the contents silent and the ship’s engines a gentle hum in the background. The kid’s soft babbling drifts down from the cockpit, and Din’s muffled reply. 

You’d taken on the task of putting away the supplies you’d bought on Nevarro while he ran diagnostics on the Crest or some other such mechanical wizardry. And since the kid had a habit of climbing into small spaces when you weren’t looking - that time he’d locked himself in a crate still makes your stomach turn with anxiety - Din had removed him from temptation.

It’s good for you, having something to keep your hands and mind busy right now. 

Those emotions that have been simmering for a couple days are close to the surface, but it’s going to take time and concentration to talk through them. Not something you want to try with a mischievous little green dude constantly pulling your attention. 

But that’s ok, you can wait until the kid goes to bed. 

You know Din will be there to listen, whenever you’re ready. 

Reaching into the crate, you move around the rations you’d just stacked inside, taking the first few off the top and sliding them into a small gap toward the back. 

Your gaze snags on something unfamiliar. 

A large, grey box underneath where you had first put the rations. 

You had somehow missed it before, but now it’s a glaring strangeness. Nervousness flutters in your stomach - given the type of people you and Din are trying to avoid, a random box showing up on the ship is probably not a good sign. 

There’s a flap or something sticking out of the top - a scrap of paper? 

Carefully, you pull it free, trying not to shift the box too much. 

It has writing on it, scrawling, uneven letters but you can read it -

You might act like teenagers but your backs definitely aren’t young anymore. Take care of yourselves, my friends.

Understanding slices through the nerves. 

Cara Dune. 

She must have snuck this in while helping you load up supplies, just before you’d left Nevarro. 

Your smile shifts into a grin as you pull the grey box out into the open, see the words printed on the side. 

Anticipation trips your heartbeat. 

Suddenly you’re looking forward to the kid’s bedtime for another reason. 

*****

Your heart keeps up its fluttering throughout the day, though its reason alternates between excitement and nervousness. 

The kid is thankfully well-behaved, and adorably grateful when you tuck his stuffed frog that you’d found into his pod. At some point in the last few weeks, the toy had ended up beneath a shelf and despite you and Din searching for the better part of an hour, it had remained there until you’d moved it while rearranging the hold. 

Now, the kid is snuggled into his hammock, stuffed frog clutched in his tiny clawed hands, breathing even and slow as sleep finally pulls him away from the world. 

Your gaze lingers on the frog. 

A flash of memory - 

Din, sifting through a small box full of trinkets, odds and ends that Cara’s recruits had gathered while they cleared the Aqualish raiders from the sewers that had once been his home. 

I know the child it belongs - belonged to. She would want you to have it.

The guilt that had dulled his voice, then his confession that he blamed himself for the deaths of so many of his people. 

You had tried to find the words to lessen the weight of his guilt, but it’s woven through his sense of obligation to his people, so firmly embedded you don’t think he’ll ever be truly free of it. 

Because he’ll never let go of that obligation.

The well of emotion you’ve been keeping just under the surface roils, threatens to break through.

“I could hear you thinking from the cockpit.”

His natural gentle rasp is obvious even through the helmet’s modulator, soothing and familiar enough that you don’t startle as you realize he’d come down the ladder without you hearing him, too lost in thought to see he’s standing right next to you until this moment. 

You smile, though it feels weak. “Sorry. I’ll try to be quieter next time.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He runs a finger gently along the edge of the hammock in a wordless goodnight to the kid, then keys the bunk door closed and takes off his gloves, tucking them into his belt. “I’ll listen, whenever it gets too loud.”

Your smile is genuine this time, gaze lingering in the curve of his helmet under the dim lights, seeking his gaze behind the black visor. “I know you will.”

His hands cup your face, warm and reassuring. You revel in his touch for a moment, breathing deep, then grasp them, press a kiss to a palm before curling your fingers around them and holding them against the place where your heart pounds at your ribcage. 

You need to feel those hands, close, steady, as you let that well of emotion rise to the forefront. 

He waits, ever patient, watching you. 

Always watching you. 

Funny how it used to make you uncomfortable. 

Now it reminds you that he sees you. 

He sees you. 

And he trusts you to be honest with him. To be in this together. 

A single deep breath, your heartbeat thudding as your lungs expand and contract. 

Talk to him. 

You meet his gaze behind the visor. “I know what I was feeling, the other day. When you said Karga had a lead on the location of other Mandalorians.” Your head shakes a little, negating your own words. “I know what I’m still feeling.”

He doesn’t speak, a soft squeeze of your hands all the encouragement you need. 

“It’s a lot of things, actually. Not just one feeling - no, wait.” You pausing, looking inward, parsing through the buzz of emotion. “I think it feels like a lot of things because it’s so much, but when I look deeper, past all the noise, I can see what it really is.”

A subtle shift, he edges closer to you, thumbs stroking over the backs of your hands. 

The noise clears, sharpens, realizes. 

You swallow past the threatening lump in your throat. “It’s fear. I’m afraid, Din.”

Tension twitches his fingers, the helmet tilts slightly. “Afraid of what?”

The words almost get stuck, snag on your tongue, it’s so tempting to push them back and say something else, something that hurts less to voice out loud but you can’t, you have to say them or they’ll eat you from the inside out, you know that now. He’s shown you that. 

Another swallow, the lump is persistent, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Losing you.”

A pause, like he’s thinking of what to say, then his voice drifts softly between you. “Where are you afraid I’ll go?”

Kriff, he couldn’t just give some sweet reassurance, some insistence that he’s not going to leave you so you can have the excuse to turn the conversation - he cuts right to the root of it all. 

Your words shake a little despite your best efforts. “With them. With your people.”

His hands grip yours tight, as if he’s trying to emphasize the truth behind what he’s saying. “Where I go, you go.”

And you wish that was enough, the firmness in his voice enough to dull the doubt edging that ice-cold well of fear that’s rising quickly but it’s not. “But will they let me go with you? Will they let us be together?”

“They -“

It all pours from you in a rush, disjointed and sharp. “I love you, Din, just as you are, as the man and the Mandalorian. And I would never - but I’m not Mandalorian, I don’t think I can be, I can’t follow The Way like you do, it just doesn’t feel right, for me, but I don’t want to lose you and -“

“I don’t expect you to swear The Creed.” That firmness is still there but stronger, strengthened by steel-wrapped honesty. 

Even that’s not enough and fear keeps rising, bubbling out of you. “Can you say for sure that neither will they?”

Silence, thick and heavy, tension no longer just twitching but pulling his grip tight.

Damning, telling silence that says what you fear the most. 

Too late, he lessens his grip, helmet shaking side to side once. “It doesn’t matter what they say.”

Tears blur your vision and you keep going. “But it does, it has to, and that’s ok. They’re your people, they saved your life, raised you, protected you. I -“ the words actually do stick this time, you have to push them out - “I can’t ask you to choose between your people and me.”

“If I have to choose, then I’ll always -“

“Don’t.” Your hands fly free of his, press against his breastplate, desperate to stop his next words. “Don’t say it, please. You can’t possibly know what might happen in the future. Please don’t say something you might regret.”

A finger nudges your chin, you open your eyes - when had you closed them? - and he’s there, still there, with you. 

For now. 

His finger curls under your chin, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “I know how I feel about you. And I know nothing can happen that will change that.”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, you can’t look at him, already seeing him slipping away -

“Tionas.”

The word cuts through your fear, sharper, straight to your heart. 

That single word, become a term of endearment, with a deeper meaning. An identity. 

You. 

The real you, not a face you put on, not a mask you wear. 

He sees you.

He knows you. 

He loves you. 

Your lungs burn as you breathe, and you focus on it, feel the fear cracking with the movement, the warmth of his fingers on your skin thawing the doubt and flooding your chest. 

“Nothing and no one can come between us.” His voice is full of that love, the source of that firmness he’s been speaking with. “We are one when together, we are one when parted. Remember?”

You open your eyes, look into his gaze behind the familiar black visor. The light bleeds into the silver of his beskar, almost illuminating it from within, making him glow through the blur of your tears. 

A light. A star in the night sky. 

A man you love.

A man who loves you. 

Your heart stumbles, those words resonating through your body, pulling forth the memory of the Mando’a that has cemented itself in your thoughts. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.”

He cups your face once again, fingertips brushing away the tears that have slipped down your cheeks, and steps forward, leans his forehead against yours. The cool of the beskar on your skin anchors you back in the moment, the unknown future relegated to where it should be. 

Right here, right now, with him - is where you should be. 

Your smile is full of a sudden lightness, weight of emotion letting go. “Thank you. For listening. And for reminding me that I’m safe with you.”

His breath catches, barely heard through the modulator, but there. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

All that emotion finally melts away, leaving you to feel his hands on your face, the nearness of his broad frame. 

And the knowledge of what you have waiting for him in the hold. 

Excitement finally wins out as the last of the dark thoughts fades, bolstered by the need to be close to him after letting your emotions scrape so raw. 

Your hands slip down his breastplate, skim up his sides. “Take me to bed?”

“Gladly.” He lets his fingers trail down your neck as he pulls away, a wordless promise of more when he gets to his destination. 

Anticipation makes you bite your lip, feet light as you move to the corner of the hold where your shared blankets used to be, him close behind. 

You can hear the moment he sees it, bootsteps faltering, stopping. 

His modulated voice, lilting with surprise, floats over your shoulder as you continue on. “What is this?”

You can’t stop the little bubble of laughter from slipping past your lips as you dramatically throw yourself onto the bed. “A gift from our good friend, Cara Dune. Our best friend now, actually. I’m sure you agree.”

The mattress bounces just slightly underneath you, not by any means plush and luxurious, but far better than a few blankets on durasteel. Those same blankets you’d made up the bed with, so the scent of both you and Din already permeates this new nest of sorts. 

Your hands smooth out a wrinkle in the blankets. “It’s a travel bed, barely big enough for two but, in fact, big enough, and that’s all that matters. Plus, it folds back into the box it had came in, which is convenient if we ever do need the extra room in the hold.”

He moves toward you, bootsteps now steady and sure, helmet tilting as he examines the bed frame. “Looks sturdy enough.”

You look at him, catching the deepening rasp in his voice. “Only one way to find out.”

Two more steps and he’s kneeling on the bed, casually sliding his hands up your legs to push them apart, settle on his knees between them. “And what way would that be?”

Want tingles down your thighs and across your hips, lifting them slightly, seeking more of his touch, and you raise an eyebrow as you look up at him. “Playing coy? Is this something you picked up watching those HoloNet dramas you love?”

It’s a blur of motion and suddenly you’re pressed front down into the bed and he’s straddling your thighs. “Mir’sheb.”

You arch your back into his grip as large hands cup your ass. “You love my sheb.”

He groans, a low vibration that shoots straight to your core. “I do. And I love these pants you wear, let me see everything. Love to watch you walk in front of me, climb the ladder to the cockpit, bend over to get one of the kid’s toys -“

“Crikking hells, Din.” Heat swarms over your skin, his words burning a path straight to your core, inner walls clenching hard around nothing and clit throbbing at the emptiness. 

One hand slides down in-between your thighs, cups your already wet heat through your clothes. “Love this pussy, too, always ready for me.”

His fingers press over your clit and you gasp for air, pleasure sparking up your spine. “Pfassk, need you, please -“

“You don’t want to tease me some more?”

A faint laugh pushes past your racing heartbeat, head swimming with building lust, hips rolling to find that friction against his fingers. “Sick of teasing, too much of that going on right now.”

He clicks his tongue. “Mir’sheb again.”

You look at him over your shoulder, all broad shoulders and shining beskar and helmet tilted playfully and you want him so bad it hurts. “Well, you know what to do about that.”

His hand slips from between your thighs and despite knowing what’s coming next you moan at the loss, forehead falling to press against the blankets. 

He hooks his fingers over the waistband of your leggings and underwear, tugging them down in one smooth motion, stopping at your boots to yank off the whole tangle of clothing. 

Your pulse flutters so hard in anticipation that you can feel it pressing against the delicate skin of your throat. A twist of something else sends goosebumps rippling down your bare legs. 

He’s seen you like this before, but not often - your intimacy is usually shared in the dark of the night cycle, the day to day motions of life not allowing for much else. 

Being laid out this way, now, even with your torso still covered by your shirt - something about the vulnerability of letting him see you like this, exposed, amplifies the growing throb between your thighs. 

The thunk of your clothes and boots hitting the floor is followed by the whisk of cloth being pulled free, then he’s guiding your hips up with one hand while pushing his bunched up cowl under them. 

Your thighs twitch with the gentle scrape of the fabric, again when his hands trace the movement up the back of your legs, long fingers grasping the curve of your hips to settle you in place. 

It’s endearing, a little frisson of sweetness and caring that curls into your growing arousal, flares with the knowledge that he always considers your comfort. 

Then he’s back on you, not between your thighs as you thought he would be but straddling them again, pressing them tight together between his own as he slides a finger through your slick folds and all your musings of endearing sweetness fizzle out in the rush of heat that courses through your veins. 

He presses his finger into your clenching entrance, his groan of satisfaction mingling with your whimper as it sinks deep. 

Oh pfassk -

The calloused fingertip slowly drags along your inner walls and pleasure surges as he grazes over that spot, the one that he seems to find every time he buries his fingers inside you and your hands clutch at the blankets, your hips arching sharply into his touch. 

Another thick finger slips in alongside the first and you keen into the blankets. Your voice cracks as you rock back into him. “More, please, need more -“

He smoothes his free hand over the curve of your ass. “Mmm, you know I love to hear you beg, mesh’la.”

Pleasure sparks as his thumb swipes over your clit with each thrust, steadily pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes, like that, please, pfassk so good -“

Over and over his fingers drag along your inner walls, his thumb circles your clit so perfectly and you can feel it, tightening your core. 

He shifts but doesn’t let up his rhythm, the hard length of his cloth-covered cock pressing into the sensitive skin of your thighs. “Fuck, you’re going to come for me already, aren’t you?”

The feeling of his hard cock grinding over your thigh, evidence of his pleasure simply from watching you take your own shoves you right to the brink. “Yes please don’t stop gedet’ye - “

His fingers twist and push and your entire body shudders as they hook right over that spot and pulse in time with your racing heartbeat, shoving waves of heat through your core -

The intensity tears a cry from your throat and it’s so much a hot blinding wall of pleasure that’s pushing you further and further -

Your hands scrabble at the blankets as the pressure builds. “Din -“

“Let go, cyar’ika, come for me.”

The squelch around his fingers grows louder, filling your ears, layering into the steady stream of nonsensical sounds that’s falling from your lips and wet heat floods your core -

Crikking hells -

A burst of pleasure so bright it whites out your vision -

It screams through your body and you fall. 

Bright hot wet -

Lungs gasp for air, aching, the release shuddering every muscle.

His fingers pull out in a rush of slick and your pussy clenches at the loss, clit throbbing as the wet heat engulfs it. 

The hand on your ass squeezes, fingertips digging. “Fuck, kar’ta, I need to be inside you -“

Your head turns instinctively, mouth pulling free of the blankets. “Yes fill me up, gedet’ye, Din.”

He groans at your words, hands leaving you, the rustle of fabric reaching through your pleasure-soaked awareness and want instantly starts building again, rippling through your core. 

A shift and his weight is moving up the backs of your thighs, a thumb pulling apart your slick folds and -

The smooth head of his cock presses to your fluttering entrance -

A push -

Oh pfassk -

His hands grasp desperately at your waist. “So tight, I -“

He cuts off as his cock sinks another inch into your slick heat, and your eyes roll back with the slow thrust, the stretch is incredible with your legs pressed together like this and you can’t breathe it’s so good. 

A roll of his hips shoves him deeper and every muscle in your body goes slack, all focus directed to the thick of his cock shoving your tight cunt open for him.

Pleasure burns in your core with the throb of an ache and air finally rushes into your lungs as his hips press against your ass. 

Your cunt instinctively squeezes, body pleading for more and he rocks into you, his own instincts obviously driving him to move and yes you want that -

His weight presses you down into the mattress and you can’t move but a tilt of your hips shifts him inside you and the growl that cracks through the modulator makes you whimper with need.

The hands on your waist smooth down your back, catching on the fabric of your shirt. “Easy, cyar’ika, you’re so tight like this, need to let you adjust -“

Your inner walls suddenly clench, so tight it almost hurts but feels so good and you keen into the blankets, rocking back into him. 

Words spill from your lips, muffled and rough with pleasure. “It’s ok move please need you to move -“

He thrusts deep, a sharp snap of his hips that almost feels involuntary and your pussy clenches around his cock and the tension breaks -

His hands leave your back and he plants them on either side of your head, steadying as he pulls back and shoves deep again -

Yes yes yes -

Again and again -

The cowl shifts slightly underneath your hips and a fold of cloth grazes your clit and your voice wavers with cry of pleasure. “Right there yes right there -“

His grunt cracks through the modulator as your orgasm looms, cunt pulses around his cock. “Fuck -“

The bed creaks as he steadies his pace to deep, driving thrusts that slam against that spot every time and grind the cowl against your clit and crikking hells -

Pleasure so big and heavy it’s intimidating builds in your core and you’re swept away in it. Your hands grab at his, grip his wrists, hold on tight.

Din -

His voice rasps in your ear, cool steel of his helmet brushing your cheek. “Come for me, soak my cock, please -“

Pleasure cracks and spills and -

Wet hot heat erupts down your spine and trembles through your thighs and tightens your core and gushes from your spasming pussy. 

He growls, the sound stuttering as he picks up his pace. “So good, does it feel good, love?”

You murmur something in response but the words aren’t clear to your own ears, static noise of overwhelming pleasure drowning out everything except the sharp grunts punching through the modulator with every snap of his hips, the squelch of his cock pulling more and more slick from your pulsing cunt, the wet slap of his soaked flightsuit smacking against the bare skin of your ass. 

Waves of pleasure crash over your body again and again, it won’t stop, relentless, and it’s so good tears squeeze from the corner of your eyes and a sob catches in your throat and he thrusts again once twice more -

Then he’s slowing, cock pulsing against your still-fluttering walls, warmth of his spend flooding your hot core and finally it breaks -

You gasp as your body wrings a last wave from your orgasm, squeezing around his cock once more before releasing you from the grip of pleasure. 

He pants for breath above you, arms trembling, helmet dipping to rest on your shoulder for a moment before he’s pulling away. 

Hands smooth down your back in a silent apology - he knows how much you love keeping him inside you after, he loves it just as much - and you know you’d normally whine in protest but you can’t find the focus to do that right now, too blissed out to do anything but lie there. 

He moves behind you, a different kind of groan vibrating deep in his chest as he falls onto his side next to you, bouncing lightly on the mattress. 

Your smile is immediate, seeing that familiar black visor come into view, and you work up the energy to wriggle closer to rest your forehead against his, sighing in contentment when he slides a hand down your back to soothe already pleasantly sore muscles.

A long moment passes, just you and him, breaths steadying and heartbeats falling into sync. Your fingers inch toward him to bump against the helmet, fingertips tracing the beskar over where his mouth is. 

The urge to kiss him, taste him, feel his lips on yours is a deep ache in your bones, but you don’t want to ask him to take off the helmet, never want to push him to do something that holds so much meaning for him. 

Instead, you let yourself bask in the quiet, the softness of the bed and how it molds to your body, the scent of the two of you filling your lungs, and the solid nearness of Din. Let this moment soothe the rawness that emotion had left behind, fill those cracks and gaps until there was something solid to lean on. 

Cool air swirls against your bare skin and you can’t stop the shiver that runs through your body. 

He follows the movement, dipping between your thighs to glide his fingertips through the mess there. “Should get cleaned up.”

A soft snort of laughter slips out, words finally coming back into focus. “That’s a project I’m not feeling up to at the moment.”

His fingers drag over the plush flesh of your ass, leaving a trail of wet slick and come as he hums in agreement. “Think my cowl caught most of it anyway.”

“Worth it?” The twinge of embarrassment and guilt that twists in your stomach fades almost immediately, his huff of laughter brushing it away. 

“Yes, tionas. Definitely worth it.”

*****

He wishes there were words for it. 

For how he feels about you. 

‘Love’ just isn’t quite… enough. It’s too light, too small of a word for the depth of this ache in his chest. 

Though it does sound much bigger when you say it. 

I love you, Din. 

You’d murmured the words as sleep took you, soft lips brushing his hand that you’d tucked under your cheek. 

Those words had tripped his heartbeat, guided him to pull you closer into the curve of his body. The way your ribs had expanded in a contented sigh under his arm as you’d settle back against him had sent a tremor of emotion through his chest. 

He had pressed a kiss to your neck, letting you feel the words as he repeated them back to you. 

I love you, too. 

No, those words are not enough. 

He’s given you so much already - his secrets, his trust. The privacy that he’d held so close for all of his adult life. 

And yes, his heart. 

Still, not enough. 

He would give you everything.

His eyelids flutter open, staring unseeing into the darkness of the hold. 

Everything. 

There’s that word again. 

Everything is different with you. 

And it has been, since the day he first saw you. 

The world had been dark and dull, endless days of struggle and pain and guilt. 

And then it wasn’t. Because you were in it. 

As if a light had suddenly shone directly on him, warm and bright.

That light gleams in your gaze when you look at him. 

Everything is different with you. 

No. 

Some things are the same. 

He’s still Mandalorian. He still follows The Way of the Mandalore. 

A thought catches on the outskirts of his mind, itching, worming deeper. 

The Way has always been his fate, the path he must walk. 

It would have him dedicating his life to his people, foregoing all else in service to the true Mandalorians. 

It would have him walk his path alone. 

Because he knows - he knows, with absolute certainty, he will never find another like you, let alone one who follows The Way. 

Someone who sees him, his guilt and his shame and his inner torment, torn between the ideals that had saved his life and the love that had shown him how to live. 

Someone who loves all of him. 

There’s only you. 

And if given the choice between that which would resign him to a path of solitude and darkness simply because of a few words spoken when he was too young to know what he was giving up or the one who would sacrifice her own happiness before forcing that choice on him…

Well. 

His path is now brightly lit and clear before him. 

Nothing will pull him from it. No one will. 

His thoughts shift, some part of him seemingly satisfied with that conclusion. 

The memory of your eyes, wide with fear, tears blurring that gleaming light. 

He sighs, catching the movement at the last minute so as not to wake you. 

He’s tired of seeing fear and doubt in your eyes. 

It makes sense, he knows why it’s so often there. 

You’ve lost everything you’ve ever had, whether directly by someone else’s hand or by your own, twisted into action by thoughts planted in your mind by the hatred of others. 

He understands why you doubt. Question. 

Expect loss even when it doesn’t come. 

He knows you need reassurance. 

More than just his simple, too-small words. 

Realization washes over him, chilled and warm at the same time. 

He stops breathing.

There are words for it. To describe how he feels about you. 

To show you, and his people, and the entire galaxy what you mean to him. To each other. 

To protect the two of you from anyone who would try to come between you.

Yes, there are words for exactly that purpose.

The memory of your lips forming the first part of those words pins the thought to the forefront of his mind. 

You don’t know their context.

But he’ll give it to you. 

He would give you everything. 

***** Mando’a translations:

Tionas - question 

Mesh’la - beautiful

Cyar’ika - sweetheart

Kar’ta - heart 

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader #mando x you #the world is light embodied #TWILE

[jus-a-lil-mouse]

@jupernaturalweek day 3: sustenance! featuring my Gabriel fankid Joan! You can see her in this FANTASTIC piece by @this-is-z-art-blog . (Also this one. And this one.)

Joan sits next to Kelly on the wicker couch on the porch, careful not to bump into her. She hands Kelly a coffee sweetened with hazelnut creamer, and Kelly gives her a conspiratorial wink. This is their routine: on Saturday mornings, Castiel goes to get groceries, and Joan and Kelly sit outside and drink coffee and chat. When Castiel gets home he will scold Joan for letting Kelly drink it, but he will also have gotten them another container of hazelnut creamer.

Joan sips her own coffee - Kelly asks, “Did you remember to add a little coffee to your creamer this morning?” - and looks out over the lake. Joan uses a trickle of her Grace to keep their mugs warm. Castiel would scold her for it, but Joan knows how to hide her Grace in birdsong and the whisper of wind through the trees.

Kelly is telling her a story about working in the White House (which Joan understands is a big deal, even though she doesn’t really get it) and Joan is half-listening, because she doesn’t know what a Secretary of Commerce is or does. She is busy thinking of her mother. She never thought much about her mother, because she knew her for all of 47 seconds, but she thinks about her more now that she knows Kelly. Did her mother love her as fiercely as Kelly loves Jack? Did her mother sit on the front porch of that cabin and drink coffee even though she wasn’t supposed to? Did Joan remove the chemicals from her mother’s blood the way Jack does for Kelly?

Did Joan’s father chase after her and her mother the way Jack’s chased him? What would it be like to be wanted so desperately?

—

Joan loves talking to Kelly. Kelly tells her about music and celebrities and politics. Joan tells Kelly about frogs and the tides and flying. Kelly teaches her about saints and sins on Sunday mornings after she watches a church service on the television. Joan listens but doesn’t believe, and she knows that this, too, is something Kelly is doing for Jack.

Joan does not like talking to Castiel. Every single angel she’d ever met had tried to kill her. She felt justified in assuming that Castiel would do the same to her and Jack as soon as he could, no matter what Kelly or Sam or anyone said. She’d ignore him or snap at him but he still kept trying.

When he went to the store he’d get everything she put on the list, and then would get her things she didn’t even want. Sweets and fruits and little toys and trinkets that matched the ones he bought for Jack. She’d told him to stop. He didn’t.

She told him that Jack wouldn’t be born a baby, that he wouldn’t need a crib or a Baby’s First Teddy or a little pouch for when he lost his baby teeth. He told her that it was for Kelly, not Jack. She already knew that. She just wanted him to be wrong.

—

For her entire life, the only things Joan has owned are the clothes she is wearing. The only things she ever thought of as Hers is the necklace sitting heavy on her neck.

But now she has a bedroom. Her own bed and her own window and her own view of the lake. Castiel gave her her own cellphone and Kelly taught her how to use it. She has every gift from Castiel she didn’t want lined up on the windowsill, except for a small stuffed toy that is resting on her pillow. She has a YouTube account and an email address.

If they stay longer, she’ll paint the walls. She’ll put a second bed in her room and that way Jack can sleep nearby so she can keep him safe. His toys can fill the space between hers. She’ll teach him how to hide himself and his Grace and then maybe once there’s two of them they won’t have to hide.

—

Castiel is in the kitchen trying to cook dinner. Joan can tell from here that he’s failing, but she also knows that when the fire alarm starts up, she’ll use the noise to cover up her Grace as she manipulates the molecules of their meal so that Kelly can enjoy it. Kelly’s show just ended and now they’ll chat until Castiel is done burning the chicken.

“Are you named after someone?” Kelly asks.

Joan shrugs. “Maybe.” She didn’t have enough time to ask, and she had no idea what family her mother may have left behind.

“I wonder if it’s a family name? Or maybe you’re named after Saint Joan of Arc,” Kelly mused. Joan had been wondering the same thing since she was given her name. Something in her gut screamed at the idea of being named after a Saint. Kelly was talking now as though it was a goal to strive for, and honor to be given; it just made Joan feel hollow.

“I don’t think that’s right.” Castiel’s voice was quiet when he interrupted Kelly. He looked at Joan like he could see right through to her core. “It’s Joan, from Yochana. God’s gracious gift. A Jewish origin is far more likely.” He nods towards the chain around her neck and Joan can’t breathe.

So she leaves.

—

She flies into town, hiding herself in a cold front. She stands in front of Beth Shalom for too long. Her mother gave her a name and a necklace and a command. For the first time Joan realizes her mother had given her a community, too. Joan doesn’t know what to do with that, so she stands on the sidewalk outside the temple until the sky is dark and full of stars.

When she gets back to the house, Cas is sitting in the living room. He’s holding a book - one of Kelly’s romance novels - but she doubts he’s actually reading it.

“Say it again,” she demands. “The- the Hebrew version.”

“Yochana. The direct English translation is Johana.”

Joan closes her eyes. Her mother gave her four things in 47 seconds and Joan hadn’t even known. “What if that’s what she was trying to say but she said Joan instead? Did she want me to figure this all out on my own or did she try to give me something more?” Castiel tilts his head and squints at her. She can feel panic clawing its way up her throat. “What if I want to be Johana and not Joan? She only had time to give me a few things so is it wrong of me to throw one away?”

“I think she would want you to be happy,” Castiel tells her. He’s silent for a moment while Joan struggles to remember how to breathe. “Yochana is the feminine form of Yochanan. It’s a variant of Yehonatan. The English version of that is Jonathan, which is the origin of the name Jack. No matter what you decide to do, that is something the two of you will get to share. You were both a gift.”

“Oh.” Joan sits down on the couch. She stares at the floor. “I’m glad I’m not named after a Saint.”

Castiel hums. “Yes, I think that Johana suits you much better than Joan of Arc would. Would you like to make some challah with me? I’m not very good at it. I have Dean’s family recipe though.”

Joan doesn’t like Castiel. She doesn’t like talking or being near him at all. But. “I’ve never made anything at all, so you’re better than I am. Will you teach me how to make that sound? I want to be able to say the name right.”

Castiel smiles at her the way he smiles at Kelly, and stands up to lead her towards the kitchen. “Of course.”

#jupernatural #jupernatural week 2023 #supernatural #joan #castiel #kelly kline

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

(If applicable) What was MK's first stuffed animal?

Cause I'm like that here's all of them in chronological order:

Wukong's socks

Pigsy's old stuffed bunny

A lion

A monkey stuffie for birthday

A red teddy bear from a relative

A goldfish for Christmas

Another monkey cause the first got lost

A squishy chicken from the arcade

A cow

A green western dragon from Mei

A blue dinosaur

A third (smaller) monkey because Wukong saw it and thought of him

A small dog from Nezha

A pig from eldest brother for birthday

A panda bear for birthday

Another, other monkey (not for birthday)

A pillow stuffie in the shape of a pig

A noodle dragon

A knitted cat from yard sale

A very soft squishy lamb for Christmas

A sloth

A 4 foot tall monkey from Ma & Tang

Another chicken

A penguin

A collection of Jttw characters as stuffies he bought himself

A dragonfly

Yet another monkey

An axolotl

A cute little mouse about the size of his hand

Dark fantasy elf

Another, other, other monkey with a hat

A small frog from Red Son

#:3 #32 #honestly #same #he still has a number of these #lmk #lmk au #lmk mk #plushes #:D #i like this ask #ask time! #ty for asking! #reincarnation au #2nd chances au #lmk qi xiaotian

[melishade]

Attack on Prime Halloween Anthology: Okiku, the Living Japanese Doll

Main Story    

The Rake

Red Death

Medusa  

“How much longer do we have until this is over?” Connie had asked the Commander as they sat around the bonfire.

“...Nine more days,” Hanji counted on her fingers.

“I will not be doing this again,” Optimus informed her in his holoform.

“Aw c’mon. Why not?” Hanji whined. Optimus merely gestured to the apprehensive faces of the Survey Corps, excluding Mikasa. She herself just looked eager. 

“I don’t see the problem,” Hanji shrugged.

“Hanji, you and I are tied,” Levi reminded.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Hanji denied.

“By the Allspark,” Optimus muttered under his breath.

“Let’s just get today out of the way, please?” Armin pleaded with Optimus.

Optimus sighed and turned his attention to the fire. He remember another story Miko had told to scare Jack and Rafael. “A mother name Yuna, lived with her daughter Emiko. Yuna had to work two jobs in order provide for both herself and her daughter, since her husband was not around. Yuna’s busy schedule made it hard for her to spend time with Emiko. So Yuna bought Emiko a doll, which she had named Okiku.

Emiko had spent much of her time with Okiku. She played with it, slept with it, and ate with it. Yuna thought it was amusing for Emiko to serve her doll food, even though the doll would not be able to eat. However, overtime, it became unnerving. Emiko had done everything with the doll, even take a bath with her. Yuna asked her if it would ruin the doll, but Emiko insisted that the doll needed a bath. 

But Yuna had to make extra meals that would ultimately be wasted. Emiko had referred to the doll as her sister in public, much to Yuna’s embarrassment. Even for a child, this was becoming too much for the mother. She had pulled Emiko aside and tell her as gently as possible that the doll was not really alive. Emiko could believe and make up what she wanted, but Yuna could not treat the doll as if it were her sister.

But she is real.

Yuna was too exhausted to continue the conversation, and simply let it go. However, Emiko did heed her mother’s advice, and less food and water was being used. One night she had tucked her daughter into bed, she had noticed something different about the doll. The hair looked...longer. It used to be at the doll’s shoulder, but now it was at the doll’s waist. 

I told you she was real.

Yuna had believed she was hallucinating from the lack of sleep and over-working herself. Over the next few days, there were other new features that she had noticed on the doll. There were teeth growing from her mouth and fingernails growing on her hands. Yuna had grown more and more concerned. Was the doll real? Or was it something else?

One night, when she returned from work, Yuna had noticed Emiko covering the doll in bandages. She stomped over and grabbed the doll. Emiko told her mom that the doll was sick and that she needed to be careful. However, Yuna was shocked to find the bandages had blood seeping through it. She had unwrapped the bandages of the doll and turned it over to find a flap on the back. She peeled the flap away, and was horrified to find a fresh heart stuffed inside the cavitiy of the doll.

I gave her a heart, mommy, and everything that she needs to be real. Can we go back to calling her my sister again?”

“...oh my fucking god,” Jean muttered. Meanwhile, Sasha was the one trying to stop herself from throwing up by covering her mouth.

“This feels like the horror that I want to look away from, but can’t,” Armin admitted with a nervous laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with that kid?!” Connie screamed, “My younger siblings never pulled this crap!”

“How did she even get those items?” Mikasa asked, “Where did she even get hair? Or even a heart?”

“That is actually something I can agree with,” Hanji asked, “Sure, I was a rambunctious kid, but I never dissected my own frog to stuff into a doll.”

“Who or what did she kill?” Eren asked.

“Is that a question you all really want an answer to?” Optimus rhetorically asked.

All of them looked quite nervous to respond to Optimus question.

“Yes,” Mikasa answered bluntly, with no fear in her eyes.

“Mikasa, what the hell?!” Sasha screamed at her.

Mikasa began to argue her case while the teens were scolding her for it. Meanwhile, Optimus just looked visibly tired. He’s aware that while the story is fake, the doll is real and exists in Japan. But he was going to refrain from telling them that piece of information.

(Sorry I didn’t post yesterday. I got busy and I needed to fix my hair which usually takes an hour at best.)

#tfp #transformers prime #tfp optimus #optimus #optimus prime #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #captain levi #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #sasha blause #Jean Kirschstein #connie springer #attack on prime #crossover #ao3 #fanfic #halloween #Halloween anthology #okiku #okiku the real doll

[chibitantei]

@epitomees / Naoto sends:

What do you gift someone identical to yourself? Not a twin situation, but someone similarly sharing your appearance, personality, and likeness? An exact copy of yourself, in layman's terms.

When it came to gift-giving, Chihiro always found difficulty obtaining what one considered the perfect present. Most times she wound up purchasing a simple, neutral item that one neither loved or disliked. Nothing too sentimental either. Sometimes it'd end up being chocolates or sweet foods as one tended to receive on birthdays. Other times, a stationary good meant for a bedroom desk or home computer suite.

None of these options were acceptable in this scenario.

Kazuki shared corresponding tastes and recreational activities much to Chihiro's awareness, since they were separate detectives in their respective timeline. Judging from her own experiences and observations concerning her own team's gift-bearings, she ruled out several possibilities. Mystery novels seemed to be one of their most common interests, and to be frank, an easy accessibility in case someone fell short of time. Coffee, as well. Those two choices lacked the creativity and care (though she sorely lacked those traits) Naoto decided to conjure for this occasion.

The decision fell upon something home-made, and perhaps a slice of store-bought vanilla and chocolate cake as an additional gift. Sweets never hurt, once in a while.

The day soon arrived, and once Chihiro received Kazuki's generous gifts it was time for her to present an equal amount of gifts. Nothing was wrapped. Chihiro rationed more of her time into piecing together Kaz's presents. She wanted these to be meaningful, and so more effort and work went into making it appear absolutely perfect.

The first item out of her briefcase was a irregularly-shaped leather book. It was new, large, with no signs of damage or wear along the wire-bound spine. The front covered held a laminated paper, with the title 'Chihiro and Kazuki' written in dark blue calligraphy. "There are not many whom know about my scrapbooking hobby, but considering..." A pause. "...our relationship, I wanted you to see my work for yourself." Specialized paper held various polaroid pictures taken from Chihiro's own perspective.

A sleepover spent in Kazuki's manor. Hercule being held in Kazuki's hands. Kazuki feeding the fat nugget a large selection of vegetables. Chihiro stuffing her face with a large Snickers bar, albeit a very sour expression.

"Several pages are left empty...but that's for a reason." One Chihiro would not specify. Kazuki, no doubt, knew the answer already.

Another item came to rest in Kazuki's palm. A small sculpture with an oddly round shape, sprouting four stub-like legs and two indented eyes. Its large, gapping mouth took up a third of its structure. Were they some kind of creatures? At most, their unidentifiable species did not matter, although their frog-like shape reminded Naoto of the amphibians' loud callings on warm, summer nights. "These were found in my world's Daidara shop." She tipped her hat forward, obscuring her view of Kazuki yet still remaining in her sights. "I'm not sure...what made me consider purchasing these but...somehow I knew I needed to give you one."

Other than the wrapped piece of cake, it's all Chihiro had to offer. "I hope your birthday is just as enjoyable, with your team, and your Grampa, and Yakushiji." And her gifts too.

Naoto's Birthday | Closed

Receiving gifts from family and friends was normal, something from yourself wasn’t. However, it hadn’t deterred Kazuki from sending something to Chihiro, nor did it deter Chihiro from doing the same. As far as she recalled, this was the first time she had received anything from Chihiro.

Item number one. A book, much larger than an average notebook, irregularly shaped, too. It wasn’t until she looked at the cover that she understood what exactly this was. If she hadn’t figured it out, Chihiro’s explanation would have undoubtedly answered her question. A scrapbook. Polaroid pictures of various scenes. Almost as if they were truly twins. None of these happened long ago, hadn’t been more than a year, but bittersweet nostalgia filled Kazuki as she flipped through the pages until she came to a stop at the first blank page. There were more left, and even without the hint, she understood.

Item number two. Much smaller than the scrapbook. With one arm holding it, she extended her palm and what came to rest in it was... some kind of sculpted creature. It resembled no nonsensical Shadow found in the TV world nor a recognizable creature, real and fantastical. Four stubby legs, a body shaped like a frog, a mouth left open as if it were croaking.

As a whole, Shirogane Naoto was a master of implication. While Chihiro didn’t directly address the matter, Kazuki knew there was one other frog-like creature currently in Chihiro’s possession. Were these little things siblings then?

Item number three. A slice of cake, vanilla and chocolate. Best to be consumed today, after all the festivities were done.

This wasn’t a true item on the list, but Kazuki thought it counted. Item number four. Knowing that Chihiro, in spite of her claim to fame as the most difficult Naoto to read, did care about her. Of course she did. Was it not like her and the Investigation Team? Still, it put her mind at ease, knowing that their countless interactions had given way to something positive, not the other way around.

She set them down on the table. Everything was simple, but today had been a pleasant experience, something she never would have called her birthday years ago. With anyone else, she would have said a few words, gave a rare smile and perhaps shake hands, but with Chihiro, giving her a hug felt as natural as giving Yakushiji and Grampa one. “You do care after all,” she teased.

Kazuki pulled away and carefully flipped through the scrapbook until the first blank page greeted her. “Since I’m here, you must have your camera somewhere in the estate, correct?” She reorganized the objects until they were in suitable locations, ones that would look well when captured on camera.

“You should retrieve it and the little frog creature I know you’ve kept. I already have an idea of what I want to put on this page here, and I’m sure you know, Chihiro.”

Item number five. A celebratory photo to commemorate their birthday.

#Ask Status: Answered #epitomees #epitomees ; naoto #v: Into the Naotoverse #Event: Naoto's Birthday #long post #(points as them. it's the sisters) #(I'm emo for them always)

[lamm97russo]

The Ultimate Guide To best squishmallows

Probably the most well known reindeer of all of them is unquestionably Rudolph, and we like the understated search of the stuffie. Invest in him with Clarice for making the cutest few ever. We are able to validate because its dazzling yellow colour is strikingly adorable. It is also quite squishy, perfect for loved ones rooms or Whilst you play with close friends. The fantasy squad is bought at Claire's. Acquire of venture and buy on the internet to be amazed by one of many lovely people. Go to Claire's in person to make your range you. Leonard’s Tale: Leonard could be a lion, but he’s no traditional lion — he doesn’t consume meat for the reason that he’s a vegetarian! Rather than The standard red and white glimpse, this Kris Kringle is putting on environmentally friendly and also a plaid best along with his signature hat. She'd glance lovely inside of a Bed room or playroom and could even adorn the backseat of your vehicle, so You mostly grin if you look back and find out her. Like Cam the Cat, Sunshine is all smiles. It's constantly a sunshiny day for her! You may not be capable of Possess a unicorn in real lifestyle, but this pink plush will be the next best detail. Ilene the Pink Unicorn is don't just magical but As outlined by her bio, she also loves to camp with pals. Yet another a single for sci-fi and fantasy lovers, Roboyo the purple alien is actually exceptional with her sharp enamel, blue gills and additional antennae. She also includes a sparkly tummy that includes a rainbow of colours. As well as, you could get much more aliens like Loraly and Daxxon. One reviewer mentioned, “So gentle, I don’t even comprehend! It’s an AMAZING pillow. Great volume of squish. I get it to bed and I bring it with me to the couch After i awaken. I’m a 27 12 months outdated female obsessed with a stuffed animal And that i’m not ashamed.” https://www.google.ac/url?sa=i&url=https://squishmallowsmart.com cannot see are mystery Squishmallows which can be any character away from hundreds. At the time opened, you will have your own mini Squishmallow squad to Participate in with. For in excess of 100 a long time, The great Housekeeping Institute has been screening and analyzing customer products to assist families make wise possibilities. While our pros routinely rank significant-priced items like the best household vehicles as well as best wise refrigerators, we do also check and assessment Young ones' toys. Couple of factors are as Specific as dining with family and friends, with the deep conversations and shared food into the cocktail glasses that by no means go vacant. And, if frogs are your factor, You may also look for a blue poison dart frog and also a yellow toad across distinct suppliers. A single Reviewer Wrote: “I obtained this for a pal who owns cats and he or she beloved it! Really gentle and plush, would buy once again!”

#squishmallows #mart #squishy #best #top #new

[airprime7]

poetry/rap/whatever by me and @jenny-azoth

Nightmare Despair Helter Skelt air

unreal

That things not going anywhere

complex even but in the lexicon on which i build my name its all the same expedite the extra dime any money i buy by rhyme fair and square is mine

there?

yeah time

thanks obama (insert mic drop there)

prank disaster

egbert (you know the pronunciation)

yes i can enunciate on my copys heart body smarter than you think then you drink and its done, see aint what you thought or bought but deaths the price you pay not to stay to go away and left is nothing bodys stuffed with love and care another scare the dog attacks during frog backtracks end of line end of life in final strife start of dream and seams show clear the knit and sew let it go into bubble of troubles and dignity comes in the window are you ready to join your self and sibling go oughta cut this short or get caught up in ends the bends and falls faces change new grounds tread found red with blood by hand or blade the cans arent saved but she has no way he must escape not Just nor safe but we all cascade

#doveposting #my writing #poetry #homestuck #cascade #cascade day #1025 #dave strider #davesprite #rose lalonde #draconian dignitary #bec noir #jack noir #peregrine mendicant #wayward vagabond #no you dont get to know which character is which

[fr0gblog]

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Last fall I bought a box of 500 live crickets as a treat for the fr0gs. After they completely ignored it I learned that: A) Frogs do NOT glut themselves like bears before hibernation 2) Mistakes were made as most of them (both crickets [ugh] and fr0gs [yay] ) survived winter

There should not be cricket noises here until August at the earliest - and even when it is appropriate for crickets to be out, there should not be so many of them. I spent half an hour trying to hype the frogs up to do something about it. They won't even have to work at stuffing themselves and that was the point I tried to sell. One gave me a watery side-eye. Another made a fart noise and flopped backwards into the pond. The rest just stared.

GOOD TALK, LADS

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

good bones (2016) - maggie smith

“you are short :)”

feel free to tag your short friends i am tagging @muku-uwu sorry

#good bones #maggie smith #sorry all short people #hows the weather down there #i am so goddamn funny and original #guys i caved #and bought another stuffed frog #i have like 12 now #im losing it #god #anyway #blackout poetry #blackout poem #author #books #poetry

[kevingayimeanday]

Neil & Stuffed Animals: A headcanon

It starts with some shitty little fox that Nicky bought him as a joke because he found it in the baby aisle, but Neil fucking loves it.

He drags it around like a toddler with a blanket, taking it to all his games and sleeping with it every night.

Then, the fox starts to fall apart, mainly due to it being taken around the country every week for months (and that one time Aaron threw it out a window)

Neil says he’s “fine about it, it’s just a fox” so Andrew buys him a new one, because Neil just looks so sad when Andrew has to sew the tail back on for the 10th time.

Seeing how happy the new fox made Neil, Andrew buys him another one, a bear this time

Then a frog

Then a lion

Andrew keeps buying them because his bad days mean he can’t always cuddle with Neil, but stuffies don’t have that issue and Neil deserves hugs

(Also Neil does this little grin whenever Andrew hands it over and Andrew would die for that shit)

All of a sudden Neil, who has never been allowed to be soft nor form attachments to something as silly as a stuffed animal because they might need to leave it behind, has a shit ton of them

Like, he has to put them on the floor to physically fit in his bed

They all have names and Neil constantly forgets them because there’s so many, so he has to turn to Andrew because he’ll never forget them

He chooses a different one every night to sleep with so none of them feel left out

There’s always one at each game, in its own court-side seat

And Neil loves all of them, because he never really got to be a kid, never got to fret over something as trivial as the opinion of a stuffed animal and he’s making up for so much lost time

However, Andrew does debate when they move in together whether the smile was truly worth having to give up space in his own bed to an inanimate object

(It was)

#I just think that Neil would be soft #out of spite too #like…my father would have hated this #quick buy me another #all for the game #aftg #foxes #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg shitpost #soft Neil Josten #kevin day #nicky hemmick

[potionsprefect]

Newborn Toys

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Ethan and Victoria buy a sentimental item for their twins

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

“Are you sure they need another toy? The playroom is so full it might burst.” Ethan chuckled.

Victoria rolled her eyes from her place on the bed, laptop balancing on her very large belly. “You have to admit, this idea is clever.”

“My surname is Ramsey not lambsey, or sheepsey.” Ethan said sarcastically.

“It’s close enough. Besides, don’t you like the idea?”

“I don’t like the idea of people saying my surname is lambsey or sheepsey.”

“Well now you’re just being ridiculous. I would never say that.” Victoria laughed.

“Hrm. Doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t crossed your mind.” Ethan exited the en-suite.

“Well if I admitted that then I would be giving up my secrets too easily.” Victoria winked.

Ethan laid on the bed. “What do you guys think?” He grinned at her belly. Ethan pressed two kisses to her stomach. “Has Mommy bought you enough toys? Or would you like two more?” His words were met with a flutter of kicks.

“Remember. Daddy didn’t say no to those toys. He was just as excited.” Victoria grinned.

“If we buy two little rams then it makes more sense.” Ethan stated.

“But sheep toys are popular! Imagine our little rams cuddling little lambs.” Victoria stroked her belly.

“When you put it like that, the idea does sound appealing.” Ethan chuckled.

“So is it a yes?”

Ethan sighed dramatically. “I suppose we can find room for them.”

Victoria pressed her lips to his. “Best husband ever.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “How many husbands have you had?”

“One real one.” Victoria shut her laptop and put it on the bedside cabinet. “But fictional ones? The list is endless.” She grinned.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ethan groaned.

Victoria grinned as she turned on her side. “If it makes you feel better, you’re always number one.”

Ethan chuckled. “A position I never take for granted.”

Ethan took the box from the delivery driver and shut the front door, a small smile on his face. The box was heavier then he expected it to be. He laughed, guessing that Victoria had ordered more than just the stuffed toys.

“Did you add more things to the shopping basket when I wasn’t looking?” Ethan said as he walked into the living room.

“Would you really accuse me of ever doing such a thing?“ Victoria laughed.

Ethan sat down next to her on the couch. “Somehow I can never be mad at you.”

Victoria smiled. “Then my work here is done.”

“Let’s open these and put them in the nursery.” Ethan unsealed the box and opened it, taking our all the items that had been ordered.

“Look Jenner. New baby grows! What do you think.” Victoria held out the items in front of him. Jenner sniffed them curiously before laying his head on Victoria’s bump. “I think he likes them.”

“And here’s what we originally ordered.” Ethan pulled out the stuffed lambs.

“They look pretty good. Imagine them cuddling them as they sleep. Or it sitting at the end of their beds.” Victoria said.

Ethan stared down at the lambs, his face seemed hard to read. “Yeah… I’m sure they’ll love them.”

Victoria noticed this instantly and moved closer. “There’s something on your mind. What is it?” Victoria asked.

Ethan sighed. “These toys remind me of that stuffed frog that we saved for Dolores. It sounds silly out loud. But I know how much it meant to her.”

“Ethan… I would never have suggested buying two stuffed toys if it brought back bad memories. I’m sorry.” Victoria sighed.

“No!” Ethan put the toys down and turned to face Victoria. “No that’s… that’s not what I think. It’s nice that she had something so sentimental for little Ethan. Something that can help remind him of his Mom. I just hope that these two will think like that when they look at these.” He gestured to the toys.

“I have no doubt that they will. Because they will know how much we love them.” Victoria smiled.

Ethan gently pressed his lips to Victoria’s. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For everything.” Ethan rested his forehead against hers.

“I can say the same to you.” Victoria smiled. “Shall we go put these in the nursery?”

Ethan nodded and stood up, helping Victoria up as Jenner walked by her feet. They made their way up the stairs and into the nursery, placing the two stuffed lambs on a shelf.

“I wonder if they’ll be their favourite toy.” Victoria wondered.

“I hope it is. It has a great meaning.” Ethan smiled as he ran a hand over Victoria’s belly.

They were impatiently waiting for their arrival. They couldn’t wait to be parents.

They had grown so much over the last few months. It seemed like everything was going by in the blink of an eye.

Luke and Lily were now seven months old, they were currently lying on their mats, staring up at the moon and stars that hung above them. Their tiny hands grabbed ahold of them, giggling before letting them go.

“What are you both up to?” Victoria smiled as she laid down beside them.

“Are you both having fun?” Ethan did the same.

The twins reached out to their parents, Lily managing to grab ahold of Victoria’s earring.

“Ow that hurts.” Victoria laughed as she gently pryed Lily’s hand away.

“I’ve got something for the both of you.” Ethan said. He held out their stuffed lambs, Luke and Lily’s faces lit up as they grabbed ahold of them.

“Daddy washed your favourite toys, even though Mommy said they could’ve lasted another day.” Victoria chuckled.

“But Daddy is always right.” Ethan smiled. Luke giggled next to him as Ethan pressed small kisses to his cheek.

“Not all the time.” Victoria winked.

“Sometimes I admit defeat.” Ethan shrugged.

“But only when we’re alone.” Victoria laid on her back. “What can you see here? Can you see the moon and the stars?” Victoria looked at Lily.

Lily’s tiny fist reached up to touch the moon hanging above her. She babbled happily as she tried to pull it closer to her face.

“Can you reach it Luke?” Ethan said.

Luke reached up but Ethan gave him a helping hand and helped him grab it, giggling when his fingers grasped it tightly.

Lily who had gotten bored had reached for her stuffed lamb and was trying to see how much of it she could fit in her mouth.

“Looks like I should get the washing detergent back out again.” Ethan laughed.

“She’s just appreciating her love for her favourite toy aren’t you Lily?” Victoria grinned. Lily’s response was a giggle.

“I’m glad they both love them so much.”

Victoria smiled. “I told you another toy was necessary.”

Ethan laughed. “It seems like you can never have too many.”

“Just like shoes.”

“I still think you have too many.” Ethan said.

“I can never have enough shoes, you can never have enough bottles of scotch and our children can never have enough toys. I think we are all winners there.” Victoria laughed.

Ethan smiled. “That I will certainly not argue with.”

I hope you liked this!

Tagging in reblog

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke #Ethan x Victoria #playchoices #fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #fluff #choices: open heart #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

[raiseyourcups]

Life Day

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (I think it reads as gender-neutral) Warnings: none, just fluff Word Count: 1.6k of pure, tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: It’s Life Day and that means presents. But Din has trouble finding a present for you.

Life Day was coming up and Din was at a loss. He had never had to buy anyone anything for the holiday before. But now he had you and the ki--Grogu. He only had some semblance of an idea of what to get Grogu, but you? He had no idea. 

He knew you liked blasters but those weren’t Life Day presents, tradition stated that weapons were not appropriate because they took life. He vaguely remembered what his parents would give each other. But Din didn’t think those kinds of presents applied to you two. Not that you two weren’t--it was complicated. 

It took him until the week of the holiday, on some random planet they had landed on for supplies, to finally find what he was looking for. He made sure that you were distracted at another booth. He almost got distracted watching as you waved a stuffed...something in Grogu’s face before you turned to the person running the booth to pay them. Din did the same before you could turn to find him. 

He had just shoved your present into your bag when you came over. “You will not believe how cute the toy I got Grogu for Life Day is!”

“Does he know he has to wait until Life Day?” Din asked, nodding his helmet towards his son who was already hugging the toy that was almost as big as him.

“Don’t be silly!” You gave Din a light tap on his chest piece. “I got him another one that he hasn’t seen.”

There was a warmth that grew inside Din’s chest at the way you treated him. Everyone only saw the armor and would rather throw themselves into a sarlacc pit than speak to him. But you? You went out of your way to let him know that you were speaking to the man beneath the armor. It was almost like you didn’t even see it. 

“Are you ready to head back to the ship?” he asked before he could accidentally say something he didn’t mean to. 

“Yeah, I have everything I need,” you said but then your eyes drifted to something behind Din and you paused. “Actually can you take Grogu and go on ahead? I need one more thing.”

“I’ll go with you,” Din said, although he did take Grogu from you. He knew that you were aware of his unease leaving you on your own when they stopped on planets they hadn’t been to before. 

You came closer to him before whispering, “Din, I have to get you a present and in order for it to be a surprise…”

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence until you finally gave in, throwing your arms up in the air. “Okay fine but turn around and don’t peek.” You waited until he sighed and turned around, Grogu in his arms now. Once you were sure that he wouldn’t peek you rushed over to the booth you had seen. 

“I need one of these please,” you held the item up and placed the credits in the man’s hand. He gestured towards Din with a small smile on his face.

“Are you travelling with the Mandalorian?”

“Yes, why?”

He shrugged his shoulders but the smile stayed on his face. “No reason, enjoy your Life Day.”

“Thanks?” You say even though now you’re confused. You took the item you picked out and placed it in the bag with Grogu’s other toy and headed back to your odd pair. 

“Ready?” Din asked once you were by his side again. You pushed the merchant’s strangeness to the back of your mind and smiled at Din. With a simple nod, the three of you were off to the Razor Crest again. 

The presents both you and Din had gotten were all but forgotten for the rest of the solar week. He spent the time trying to chart out your next course, which planets were safe to land on for more than a day. You on the other hand had taken it upon yourself to try to teach Grogu his colors. Neither you nor Din wanted a repeat of him accidentally electrocuting himself even if you had expressly told Din to not have Grogu do that again. 

And while you knew Din was asleep, Grogu with him in his little hammock, you stayed up at night. Practicing words from a dictionary you had found on the HoloNet while hoping that it wasn’t all bantha shit. You weren’t sure you could live after an embarrassment like that. 

Life Day snuck up on you both and you had almost forgotten until Grogu came up to you with the one toy you had let him keep. “What’s wrong, Grogu?” 

He lifted the toy with one hand while holding up the other hand. It took a while for it to click but then it finally did. “Oh!”

It was Life Day and you had completely forgotten. You scooped Grogu up and ran over to your bag to grab both Grogu’s other toy and the present you had gotten Din. Both of the presents were wrapped in pieces of spare cloth that you had found laying around. 

“Din! It’s Life Day!” You exclaimed up into the cockpit, opting to stay down in the hangar to wait for him to come down. You heard a muffled bang followed by a curse. You winced, figuring he had hit himself on the armor somewhere, hopefully not his head. You watched as he came down the ladder and held up a finger for you to wait before he went over to the cot. He came back over to you with two wrapped presents and you stared at each other awkwardly. 

“Um, do you want to go first?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 

“How about,” he paused to clear his throat. “Grogu first?”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Yeah, that works. And then what about we give ours at the same time?”

Din nodded but didn’t say anything, just placed the one meant for Grogu onto the table. You did the same before putting Grogu down onto the table. “Grogu?”

He looked up at you with his wide, brown eyes, making a questioning cooing sound. “Go ahead and open your presents.” His eyes lit up and he ripped into the cloth, letting out a loud squeal when he saw the second stuffed animal you had gotten him. This one was a mudhorn while the one you had given him a week ago was a frog. He looked up at you and cooed happily before turning to the one Din had given him. 

You couldn’t stop the smile when you saw that Din had had the same idea as you and had bought Grogu a little stuffed Loth-Cat. “That’s so cute Din,” you said as you watched Grogu pull all of his toys in as best as he could to hug them all. 

“On three?” Din asked, pulling your attention away from Grogu, holding his present for you in his hands. 

“On three,” you agreed. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous about this present. It would be nothing compared to the other one that you were still worried about. 

You both counted to three before exchanging each other’s presents and opening them at the same time. You stared down at it in surprise, wondering if you had accidentally gotten them mixed up. You looked up at Din and could see the confusion in his own stance and that made you burst out in laughter. 

“Did we really get each other the same thing?”

“I guess so. Why did you--?”

“Because I noticed that yours was getting ready to break. Why did you get me--?”

“I wanted--if you wanted to, that is, I wanted you to be able to reach me if I have to leave the ship for more than a day.”

You stared at Din, mouth open as you tried to think of how to respond. “Um, there’s one more present I got you,” you finally said quietly, cheeks already warming as you licked your lips to wet them. 

“You didn’t, I only bought you the one--”

“Well I technically didn’t buy this one.”

“Oh?”

“Um...just don’t tease me, I tried really hard to learn this,” you said first before leaning over to where you knew Din’s ear would be inside his helmet. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

You went to move away but then Din stopped you by placing a soft hand on the back of your neck. He brought his helmet down to your forehead and you stared into the t-visor in shock. “Do you mean that?” 

“I-yes.”

Din let out a disbelieving chuckle, the voice modulator barely catching it, before he spoke. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika.”

You two stayed like that for a few moments before Grogu made an impatient sound and you both let out a chuckle. You only moved away long enough to pick up Grogu before Din pulled you into an embrace. “We make a really weird family, don’t we?”

“Yes but I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Din said, bringing his helmet back down to your forehead.

“Me neither.” You weren’t sure why Din was resting his forehead against yours but there was so much you still had to learn about Mandalorians. And you wanted Din to be the one to teach you everything. 

To himself, Din made a promise to himself and to you that next time there would be no helmet between your foreheads. Next time...

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian fluff