beautiful dolls not worth it get out

lilysflowershop  asked:

Ayyy yoooo, it's Lily coming at you with a request! *finger guns awkwardly* So hun , I love your blog as you know and I'm here for some fluffy times. Literally, because could I please have some headcanons on the bots discovering that their human s/o can turn into a cat anytime they want?? I'm gonna go with Transformers Prime - Optimus, Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Bulkhead and Ratchet. Thank you so much, you rock my socks!

Eyyyyyy! Lily! *returns awkward finger guns* Fluff is the best! Definitely my favorite thing to write. No, my dude. You. Rock. Mine.

Optimus Prime

-He doesn’t believe you. He thinks you’re playing a joke on him. He’s had many people try to draw out unprime-like reactions from him, before, but this was a bizarre way of doing it.

-When you assure him there’s no BS involved, he’s curious. He didn’t know humans could do that. Oh, it’s just you? Okay.

-You show him, and he’s astonished. Look at you! How pretty! May he touch? He can.

-You’re so soft, and he loves it. 

-He pets you, when you’ll let him. He’ll go for hours, stroking your fur, and staring off into space.


-No way, that’s wicked cool, S/O!

-What’s a cat?

-You show him, and he can barely contain himself. You’re almost like a transformer!

-Can all humans do this? Can Raf, Miko, and Jack? Why didn’t jack tell him? Why don’t they do it in the movies? Can I touch you? Does it hurt when you change? Are you forced to change when exposed to the light of the full moon?

-He pets you, and falls in love with you all over again. Why didn’t you tell him sooner?

-He’s obsessed with this “alt mode” you have, and asks to see it all the time.


-He laughs. Good one, S/O! He doesn’t believe you

-You show him, and he whirrs in awe. You’re even smaller than before! 

-Can run fast, like other cats? Really fast?

-He can’t stop touching your fur. It’s…so…soft…

-C U D D L E S


-Uh. What?

-He’s confused. He’s pretty sure humans don’t have alt modes. In fact, he’s positive.

-You show him, and he’s enchanted. Wow, look how beautiful you are!

-He doesn’t pet you, but you rub against him. You’re a plush doll, he swears.

-He won’t come out and ask you to change, but he does like it when you do.


-He calls bull. No way. He doesn’t believe it for a second. You’ll have to show him.

-Humans are strange. He’s done. Homosapiens are not worth this crap.

-Alright, fine. You’re a cat human hybrid. Good for you.

-If you rub against him in any way, he’d pat you softly. “Yes, yes. You’re very soft,” he’d mumble

-S/O, get off Ratchet’s keyboard


A Little Trip

anonymous asked:

j and you go away on a little trip , it’s great and all. Very romantic with lots of fluff and smut. But during a hike you have to listen to his be a cry baby bc he’s hot and tired. Not paying attention you slip and fall almost falling to your death. j freaks out and doesn’t leave your side the whole rest of the hike making sure you don’t fall to your death.

damn, I’m back at it again with taking words from the request and making them the title.

warnings: fluff, light smut, pissy Joker, near death experience

word count: 1,144


“Wake up, baby!” The Joker smiles with excitement as you open your groggy, sleep filled eyes. You blink, your retinas adjusting to the bright light from the chandelier hanging above the bed. J pulls you out of bed and pushes you towards your closet. “Start packing, we’re going on a little trip!” You glare at him. How is he so bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6am? 

He slams down your suitcase onto the bed, looking to you, nodding his head to say ‘go on’. You don’t move, only walk over to the bed and sit back down, rubbing your eyes. He skips over to your closet and begins to drag out clothes and shoving them into your suitcase. “Hopefully I’m getting enough clothes, if I’m not, you can’t blame me, sleepyhead.”

You lean back onto the silk sheets, covering your eyes. “Ah ah ah, no sleeping. Get up.” J pulls you out of bed again, removing your pajamas, which is only one of his big t-shirts, and putting a pair of leggings on you with a hoodie. He doesn’t bother putting a bra on you.

You sit on the big, plush chair in the corner of the room as you watch him pack his and your suitcase while he quietly hums to himself. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, it being the first thing you’ve said all morning.

“It’s a surprise.” He zips up his suitcase and finishes buttoning up the bottom buttons on his shirt, never the top buttons. “Frost!” He yells. Frost appears at the door.

“Yes, boss?”

“Bring the car around front.”

“Yes, boss.” Frost scurries off to obey his boss’s demand, shutting the door behind him.

J walks over to you, placing his hands your shoulders. “You seem so excited, kitten.” 

“I’m sorry, you know I’m not a morning person.” You look up at him. He looks nice from this angle. 

“Maybe this will wake you up a bit.” He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He pushes you against the wall, immediately kissing you. He supports you with his hand under your butt, and wraps his other hand around your neck as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You moan.

“Let’s see how wet kitten is now.” He slips his hands under your leggings, running over your heat through your already soaked panties. “Ohhhh, very wet.” He purrs in your ear. He moves your panties to the side and slips two long, cold fingers inside of you. You let out a high pitched moan and tug at the roots of his hair, making him growl. He slides his fingertip along my g-spot over and over again, slowly picking up the pace.You feel the knot in your stomach explode as your walls clench around him, your juices coating his fingers. He purrs as he licks it off.

“Are you awake now?” He smiles. You nod, grasping onto him for dear life as your orgasm dies down. He sets you back onto your feet, your knees weak. 

“The car is ready, boss.” Frost shouts through the door, knowing never to walk through a closed door in the Joker’s house. J smiles and grabs both of your suitcases and rolls them behind him as he walks to his car, you trailing behind.

“When are we gonna be thereeeeee?” You whine, your ass sore from sitting in the same spot for 5 hours, J refusing to stop at a rest area no matter how many times you begged. 

“Soon.” He says, eyes locked on the road. You weren’t even sure of where you were, but it looked like the complete opposite of Gotham. The land was very mountainous, and it was actually sunny. 

After about 30 more minutes of driving down back roads, J turned onto a dirt road. You saw a sign with an arrow pointing to a hiking trail. You glare at J. You hated hiking. He just laughed and got out of the car.

“Are you really hiking in that?” I look at his tight, black dress pants, dress shoes, and button up shirt.

“I always have to look nice,” He shrugs, starting up the mountain. You follow behind him, admiring the beautiful, dense woods. You hardly ever saw trees, and you never experienced this much peacefulness. You were so used to the hustle and bustle of the big city.

The trail was full of roots sticking up out of the ground, and you were sure you were gonna fall flat on your face at some point. You did your best to look more at the ground than the sky. It didn’t help much that it was almost a vertical uphill climb. 

You noticed J sweating through his shirt, sweat staining the expensive cloth on his back and under his armpits. 

“J, you seem a little sweaty,” You chuckle, poking at his sweaty cheek. He just groans and continues to trek up the steep hill. 

You were now only halfway up the mountain, and J had been complaining the entire way up.

“It’s hoooooottt.” “I’m tireeedddd.” “I’m thirstyyy.”

“It was your idea, babe.”

Finally, after 2 hours of going completely at a 90 degree slope, you reach the top of the mountain. The hike up the mountain was totally worth the view.

“Wow,” You breathe, taking all of the natural beauty in. You look over at J, who has also had his breath taken away from Mother Nature.

“I think we need to get a cabin up here.” He whispers in your ear, hugging you from behind. You lean into him and hum, enjoying his gentle voice and touch. You break away, walking to the edge of the cliff, wanting to see more.

“Be careful, doll,” J says. You look back at him and nod, sitting down on the rocky edge. J quietly pulls out his phone and takes a photo of you. He looks down at his phone and smiles.

You lean a little further over the egde so you can see whats below you, but you lose your balance and begin to fall forward. You yelp, grabbing for the ground behind you, but J rushes over and sweeps you up into his arms just before you began to start tumbling down.

“I told you to be careful,” He says with a stern voice, setting you on your feet and hugging you close. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to see more.” You cling onto his shirt, too afraid to let go.

You and J begin to make your way back down the mountain, him holding your hand tightly the entire time.


Relive ; Bucky Barnes

WARNINGS: angst-y kind of vibes, dying 

summary:  “i died and came back and now i get to relive my last day with you knowing i’m going to die and you know nothing and i can’t prevent this and you have no idea what just happened and your heart is going to be crushed all over again” au

A/N: i hope i distinctly wrote this haha…

Bucky sighed in full vexation as he argued with you again about his new mission. This time the both of you were arguing because you were protesting about the lack of appreciation and love you were receiving from him –as you always hear him hurry out for a new mission, often times completely neglecting a farewell. “You know how my missions are important, Y/N. Steve needs me and I can’t let him down.” He quibbled and you sighed as he utterly was missing the point. “But I need you too. You’ve been blowing me off, totally forgetting that I need constant affection and support too.”

Keep reading

YAHAHA!!! I found a Francie!! (Was bagged with basketball girl on right for $2.99!) Her legs are stained a bit and one ankle is ragged with the leg click mechanism sticking out. She is beautiful.

I also found a treasure trove of shoes, though I had to search really hard to find them all. The store had unfortunately dumped them across multiple bags so I had to get three to make the pairs, plus search the bottoms of all the shelves for singles that fell out (whyyy are there always holes in bags of tiny things?!). Worth it. Will post pics tomorrow. Many of them may be knockoffs/clone shoes, but there are a lot of real gems that I can’t wait to try on Francie. So excite.

When Kurt is five, his favorite movie is Sleeping Beauty.

Burt likes to pretend it’s because there’s a dragon that destroys stuff because he’s still clinging even if his wife raises a knowing eyebrow every time Kurt becomes captivated by the story unfolding on his television.

They both know why. From the way Kurt blushes the moment Prince Phillip shows up on screen to the giddy way his feet kick when the prince wakes Aurora from her sleeping curse. Kurt loves Sleeping Beauty because Kurt loves Prince Phillip.

For Christmas that year, Burt bites the bullet and buys Kurt a Prince Phillip doll and nothing wakes him up faster on Christmas morning than an excited five year old screaming in his ear, clutching the doll like the most treasured possession that it is.

Keep reading

Can't help it

Author: Not moose

Character: Dean

Reader gender: Female

Requested by: Anonymous

Authors note: To the anon who requested this. I’m so sorry but I realized after I wrote the fic that you wanted the reader to be a hunter. If you would like me to re write it just send a message. :D

You groan as a shrill beeping sound interrupts the best sleep you have had in weeks. Ever since your dad died you have been restless and well, lost. He was your rock. You shared all the same interests and hobbies. He was your best friend and since his passing it’s like you are a sail boat stuck in the middle of the water with no wind. Just bobbing up and down with no direction.

“Hey, Y/N! We’re gonna be late for work. The drinks won’t pour themselves!” Your roommate Sarah yells at you from somewhere else in the apartment.

“Yeah yeah. Just a minute. It takes more than a couple of seconds to look so hot.” You yell back while pulling on your denim shorts (not too short that your butt is hanging out but short enough that you get good tips)

“Whateva’. You’re naturally stunning now get your tiny ass down here. I don’t want Shirley yellin’ at us again for being late.” You roll your eyes at the mention of your boss and owner of the The Smoking Pistol Bar. She was a hard ass but the pay was good and you didn’t get enough money from the garage your dad left you in his will. So now you work two jobs, one in the morning and one at night till the butt crack of dawn.

“I’m here I’m here. Let’s go.” You grab the keys and head off to the bar, not really looking forward to the drunk, middle aged guys, who smell like rotting fish and copious amounts of alcohol. They are always grabby and think they are entitled to your body. You know how to hold your own however, and have put them back in their place. Still, it’s frustrating, but it keeps a roof over your head so you trek along.

“Heyyyy. Hot steff! Yea you with the tight ass. Anowther whiskey… hic.. now..hic” A man at the other end of the bar, probably in his early forties who apparently has never heard of shaving, yells at you or rather says a mixture of slurs and hiccups. The sad part is that you have worked here long enough to decipher what he is saying with no hesitation.

“How about some water instead? I think you have had enough whiskey for now.” You flash him your best smile in hopes that he won’t argue with you, but of course your efforts are ignored.

“Iff I- if I want another whiskey, you’ll give me another whiskey. Got that, bitch?” He says waving a finger at you for emphasis but it just makes him look more ridiculous.

“I’m sorry sir, but I have the right to refuse drinks to customers. Now, I’ll be happy to get you a water and call you a cab but you’re cut off for the night.” This time there is no smile, only a harsh, ‘I don’t take shit from drunk sad sacks’ look. The look fades almost instantaneously as his hand comes in contact with your left cheek, it didn’t hurt because he was too drunk to put any real force behind it, but it still shocked you none the less.

“Listen, you whore!! You can’t refuse me a damn thing! And maybe I’ll have to show you who’s boss!” He goes to land a sloppy kiss on your lips but he is pulled away by a man in a suit.

“Listen here you piece of shit. She is the boss here, and she is a lady, not a whore. You get your sorry drunk ass out of here before I kick you out.” The man with the most gorgeous green eyes you have ever seen, says to the man with a very stern voice.

“Oh pisss off Ken Doll. This ain’t yer business.”

“Like hell it is. You’re harassing this beautiful woman, who for your information was trying to help you out. So yeah, it’s my business.”

“She is just some bitch bar tender. She ain’t worth your time so-” the rude, inebriated man was cut off by the green eyed mystery man’s fist coming in contact with his large mouth. And that was all it took to knock him out.

“She’s not a bitch, jackass.” The gorgeous man says while shaking his fist.

“You don’t know that. I could be a total bitch. You could’ve just punched a man for no reason.” You joke while pouring the man a shot. You shoot him a flirty smile when he sits down in front of you.

“You look like a whiskey man.” You say sliding over the shot glass.

“On the house. Thanks for dealing with him. I could normally do it but I just don’t have the energy tonight.” You say pouring yourself a shot.

“He was being a total dick. It was my pleasure. I’m just sorry that you have to deal with that on a regular basis. Guys hitting your ass or trying to make advances or just being total assholes. It’s got to be rough.” He says before he takes the shot and hissing as the liquid runs down his throat.

“Ehh. I’m used to it. Comes with the job.” You say shrugging, taking your shot of whiskey.

“Why do you have this job anyway? Smart, beautiful girl like you could be doing anything. Why are you bar tending in a dive like this?” He questions holding out his glass for another swig of whiskey.

“Pays the bills. I want to be a mechanic like my dad is- well was. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But I don’t get much business in a small town like this. I’ve got this big garage filled with gorgeous classic cars that my dad and I restored together and it breaks my heart, but I might have to sell them if I want a roof over my head.” You sigh just thinking about it. Those cars are your pride and joy, selling them would be like selling your kid, if you had one.

“Classic cars huh? Like what?” The man asks grabbing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, obviously seeing the pain shining in your eyes. You give him a sheepish smile and squeeze back.

“Well I drive a '63 Chevy Corvette. That’s my baby, I would never sell that. But back at the garage I have a '69 Camaro Super Sport, an old Chevy Belair, and a '60 Mustang. All restored and in working condition.” You smile. Those cars are your life. The man whistles and smiles at you.

“I have to see these. Classic cars are so hot, and nothing is hotter than a stunning girl who appreciates them as much as I do.” He winks at you and nods towards the doors of the bar.

“Oh honey, appreciate is not strong enough. I love classic cars. They are so sexy and there is just something about them that just feels like home to me. When I’m working under the hood of one, or hear the engine roar, it sends shivers down my spine.”

“Like I said, hot. So are you going to show me or not?” He raises his eyebrows waiting for an answer.

“I don’t even know your name.” You say smiling at the man who you just met but feel close to anyways.

“Name’s Dean. And yours?”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Dean.” You grab your keys and coat walking over to the door.

“You coming, Dean? Or am I going alone?” Dean smirks and grabs his own jacket before following you out to the parking lot of the bar.

“You know, I could get fired for leaving early. Shirley will bust my balls. And for all I know your a serial killer or an escaped mental patient.” You says swinging your keys in your hands grinning up at Dean.

“You’re smart enough to know I’m not. You never would’ve come out here with me if you didn’t feel safe.” He says returning your grin. The light from the street lamp catches in his eyes rendering you speechless for a few short seconds.

“Ah but that’s just the stuff stalkers would say wouldn’t they?” You continue playing the little game, not wanting to move from the spot where Dean’s eyes shine so beautifully.

“I would never hurt you, Y/N.” Dean says grabbing your hand and looking you straight in the eyes.

“Ok, I believe you.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and turn towards your red '63 Chevy Corvette.

“Wow! That is one sexy car. Holy shit.” You can see in Dean’s eyes how happy he is and it makes your heart melt.

“Looks even hotter with you standing next to it.” You blurt out before you even realize what you were saying. You blush and put your face in your hands.

“Oh wow. I just said that, didn’t I?” Dean just chuckles and grabs your hands, pulling them away from your face.

“I think it’s adorable.” He smiles and you blush again. He reaches up and rubs your cheek, causing you to sigh and close your eyes.

“I know I just met you Y/N, but you are just so beautiful, and passionate and I can’t help but fall for you.” After he whispers those words to you he leans down and kisses you soft and lovingly, not like any kisses you’ve ever had before.

When you break away for air you lean your forehead on his.

“I can’t help it either.”

Femme Shaming

I’ve just found out it’s a thing. My god…

Here’s a letter to all the libfems who are buying into this crap

I’ve got $137 worth of Sephora beauty products waiting for me at the post office, and I can’t wait to get off work so I can go get them. I have 8 tubes of red lipstick; it’s my signature color. I also have hot rollers, garters, an actual steel-boned corset, and high heels. I love spending an hour or two getting all dolled up.

But it’s this ‘femme shaming’ you’re crying about that has taught me WHY.

It’s because I’ve been praised for conforming to patriarchal standards of femininity my entire life. It’s because I’ve been conditioned to find ripping hair from my eyebrows therapeutic. It’s because I gain positive attention and am treated well when I look like I’m 'supposed’ to look. I have come to understand that I’m buying into an industry that profits by making me too self conscious to go outside without painting my face so that it will be uniformly beige.

I used to defend these practices by saying that it was a form of self expression. In reality it is a form of self expression that has been deemed 'ok’ by a deeply patriarchal and mysoginistic society. “The customer can have the car painted any color he wants, so long as it is black” - Henry Ford.

The truth makes me uncomfortable. It lingers in the middle of my mind when I buy makeup or lingerie. But I’m not going to DENY that it IS the truth. It also gives me the strength to force myself to go outside without foundation on, and to try and buy less makeup and to stop buying clothes that are restrictive. It reminds me that high heels are crippling, and that its ok not to wear them; I haven’t for months now.

The industry of femininity has caused illness, injury, and even death for women for centuries. It makes money by enforcing our insecurities. It convinces young girls that they would be better if they had glossy lips. Women who do not conform to femininity are discriminated against; even those who simply don’t wear makeup.

When you deny the reality of the industry and claim to be 'femme shamed’, all you are doing is saying that you’re ok with the industry doing all of those things.


His head is off to *Ara to be all fabulously painted, so sorry for the headless pics, but I FINALLY finished the shirt! Haha, doing that needlelace on the sleeves and the collar took way more time than I expected(although it was on hold for a while too because of Ldoll), but I’m super happy with how it came out, so it was worth it ^_^ The shirt is made of linen and the sleeves and collar have handmade needlelace, and handsewn eyelets on the sleeves too. Now, he needs a cloak! I got this beautiful greyblue wool and the edges are going to be embroidered in the same color as the eyelets on the sleeves <3

I also got him some dark brown Leeke boots ánd he’s getting a dark brown angora wig by Kagami…I just can’t wait to see him all finished! He’s one of my oldest dolls(a Dive Seimei head on a Senior Delf body)and one of my favorites too <3

I posted these pictures on Facebook too and some people asked if I’m going to make embroidered waistcoats and such like this for sale, but they are só timeconsuming(the waistcoat alone took over 25 hours, and I don’t even want to think about the sleeves)that I think things like this will stay a personal project ^_^;;