#HOO this one took forever

[college-cryptids]

[A continuation of a previous tale.]

She was so small when she was born.

My daughter came into the world in the way most children did, red-faced and squalling, only a few moments old and already full of spirit. For a moment I was afraid– had she been hurt somehow? Was she ill, in pain? I had no other children; I did not know what to make of her screams, and they frightened me.

But the midwife was an old woman who'd seen many children into the world, and she only tutted. With lungs like that, she said, my little girl would grow up strong.

Just like her mother, I'd said, proud. My brave, beautiful wife had chuckled though her face was beaded in sweat.

No, she'd whispered. That fire she gets from her father.

I didn't know what she meant, then. The midwife handed my only daughter to my wife, her wailing soothed from her mother's familiar touch. When she was at last passed to me, small and fragile and more precious than gold, I was deathly afraid. My hands were clumsy, callused, strong but unsteady. I feared I was unsuited for the task of carrying such a priceless load.

But when those tiny eyes opened, and I met my daughter's gaze, I had no choice but to try.

That year was a season of turmoil for our little household– a new baby brings worries and troubles along with the joy, and my wife had not recovered from the strain of bearing her. She died that icy winter, planting one last kiss atop our baby's head before her pale hands went still. I dug her grave with my own heavy hands, my tears warming the icy ground only for mere moments as they fell.

I planted a rowan sprout in place of a headstone with my sleeping daughter wrapped snugly on my back, and in the dead of a winter's midnight I vowed she would not meet her mother's fate.

The seasons passed like falling leaves. My daughter– I called her Keena, for her mettle– grew from that tiny, delicate bundle into a hardy child, curious and kind, with a shock of red hair like curling flames. Soon enough she was trailing after me as I went about my work, asking countless questions. She wanted to know about the trees I felled, the tricky ways of the candles in our lanterns, the forest's creatures that tittered and laughed when the shadows grew long.

The first of these, I answered readily. But as for the last, I had no reply.

It was midday when Keena clambered down from her perch in a neighboring oak, wanting to know about the markings on the handle of my axe. I granted the tree I was after a reprieve for a moment as I knelt down beside her, took her dirt-stained fingers in my own. Together we traced the carved letters of her mother's name, and she listened as I told her the tale with a somberness I hadn't expected from one her age.

As she grew ever faster she persisted in her questions, wanting to know this and that, seeking knowledge beyond the scope of my shoddy understanding. I was certain when school began that it would be good for her. And in truth it was– she loved her books and the other children she came to know. When she wasn't looking I watched in wonder at the look on her face when she pored over her lessons, marveled at the delight and dawning understanding that made her face light up so brightly the sun would have envied her glow.

But the questions changed, in time.

Now, ours was a village steeped in traditions, in half-uttered rumors hailed as gospel and salt lines on every doorstep. Keena returned from the villages wanting to know of the iron charms that the young women carried, wanting to know why the old crones pressed daisy chains into her hands when they heard that she came from the forest. I told her what little I knew of those paltry superstitions, and soon enough she was shaking her head just as I did. The forest was home, I told her, and its supposed mysteries were nothing but useless folk tales.

You're shaking your head at me. So am I– you must know that I know different now. If only I had known then.

But the questions kept coming, day after day as Keena went to and from the village. Some days no sooner had her tawny braid come into view between the tree trunks than a question had already passed her lips. I calmed her worries easily enough, told myself it was only childish fear that she would outgrow in time.

Until the day she didn't come home.

I don't want to linger on the terror of that day. Something in me died, when the sky darkened and my little girl was nowhere to be found. In the weeks to come I tore through every inch of the village more times than I could count, praying to every god in the temple that I would find my heart.

I didn't find her. She had vanished, disappeared without even a whisper, and no one knew what had become of her.

The fervor faded as the village moved on, as the seasons kept withering and they forgot about my Keena. But I could not forget. I petitioned the citymen, the few nobles who deigned to pass our way, I would have gone to the king himself if they would have let me beyond the palace gates.

"The wild man," they called me as I searched one end of the village and the forest around it, then the other, over and over again. I suppose I was. My heart was missing, and without it I was nothing.

With a heavy heart I carved Keena's name into my axe, every stroke of the knife heavy with a thousand apologies. The final cut was a vow, a promise to find her even if it killed what little remained of me.

It was the crone who told me of the fey, twenty years after I had last welcomed my daughter home, insisting it was truth even as I scoffed in her face. It was the creatures of the wood who had taken my daughter, those phantasms I had scorned for so many decades. They took children who interested them because they could scarcely father children of their own, and they couldn't bear the notion of their people dying out. It was they who had stolen my daughter away, she said. It was them she was pursuing.

The crone didn't want me coming with her, I think. Perhaps she felt it was too dangerous for a simple woodsman, perhaps she only found me poor company. I have no clue– I couldn't be dissuaded.

The crone took me deep into the forest, to a place even I had never seen before, treading over the moss and tangled roots as though she did so every day. She pulled her hood close around her as she led me to the fairy ring, telling terrible stories of what would happen if I stepped into it. She gave warnings of eternal servitude and stolen names, of a world that would change you if you wandered it for too long.

She allowed me time to ponder, but my mind was made up. My daughter was missing, and I had coated my axe-head in iron.

It was a long journey, mine, and steeped in blood. I found rather quickly that those fable-born creatures didn't take kindly to a human wandering free in their kingdom, but I learned the ways of their realm quickly enough. Their world, if not their nation, spoke the language of growing things, and that was a language I knew well.

It would take too long to share how I discovered where they'd taken my Keena– any creature smart enough to feel fear can be compelled to share what it knows, but too few of those feathered, pompous beasts had the knowledge I was after. Suffice it to say, I could not breach the castle walls alone.

The crone had come through the ring with me, in search of another lost soul wandering the fey realms. She traveled these roads often enough, she said, and she did not bat an eye when I told her I was to force my way through the shimmering palace gates. She listened quietly when I told her of my Keena, my brilliant little girl who glowed like the sun and warmed everything she touched.

She gave me a long look, when I had told my tale in full for the first time in twenty years. When she had been silent so long I thought she had simply grown uninterested, she asked me something I didn't expect.

What will you do, the crone asked me in a voice of brambles and smoldering fire, if she isn't the child you remember?

What will you do if she cannot come home?

I couldn't have made it into the palace without the crone's help. The fey palace was strange and alien, twisting in peculiar ways and glinting in the shade like a burning candle. The creatures that walked it were beasts unlike anything I knew, all clawed hands and bugs' wings and ears that drew back in anger like hungry wolves. The crone wove some enchantment over us both, hiding us from discovery with red cloaks and sprigs of rowan wrapped in scraps of cloth, pressed quickly into my hands.

I don't know what I expected to do, when I reached the throne room of the Faerie Queen.

The doors splintered apart easily beneath my axe, and my heart burned with anger at every swing. I was thunder and blazing fury as I stormed inside, the fey courtiers reeling back at the bloody, glinting edge of my blade. I spat curses and threats as the Queensguard rose and drew their blades, protecting that... thing, on the throne.

When axe met sword, and I heard the cry of a voice I would know anywhere in the world, something shattered in my heart.

My axe had been slowed by a guard in shimmering armor, with hair like fire tamed into a long braid down her back. I will never forget the expressions that crossed her face then, one after another– fury, bewilderment, fear.

And finally, dawning understanding.

My Keena halted the rest of the guards with the authority of a general, speaking words of ash and starlight to the strange Queen. I don't know what she told them, but they sheathed their blades and allowed me to embrace her. I wept as she did, held her close as she told me what had become of her since she had come to this alien place.

She had been sworn to the Queensguard, Keena told me. She had grown so wise and so skilled–as I knew she always could be– that she had been chosen as the right hand of the fey crown.

I was less surprised by this than I was by how brilliant she was. She carried herself with the confidence of a practiced soldier; she spoke with the knowledge of the highest scholars. Oak leaves bloomed from her braid like spring flowers, and her armor gleamed like the rising sun.

My daughter had grown up strong.

Oaths meant little to me by then– I took her hand and pleaded with her to come home with me, but Keena only shook her head. The fey didn't work like we did, and without the leave of the one who had bound her, she couldn't leave their realm unless she meant to return. Their magic, she mourned, had ways of knowing your intentions, and it was not easily defied.

I proposed plan after plan, offered anything I could think of; it was all for nothing. I would have torn that kingdom to pieces if only it would bring my little girl home again, but she wouldn't–or couldn't– hear of it.

I would have stayed with her then, built myself a new life among these strange creatures, but Keena would not have that, either. Being there had changed her, had caused fey magic to bloom from the depths of her being and warp her spirit like the boughs of a tree in a storm, and she didn't want me to share her fate.

At last I pressed my axe into her hands and kissed her forehead, and for the second time in twenty years I bid my daughter farewell.

The crone didn't speak as we made our way back to the human world, breaking her silence only to hush the red-swaddled infant in her arms that she had saved from some fey noble's house. I made the journey in a haze, empty and despairing and unsure what to do. I hardly protested as the crone led me to a cottage that was not my own, a house creaking and unfurling like an oak tree in the wind.

The infant didn't quiet for her, but he did for me. I held the slumbering baby in a stricken haze as the crone puttered around her hearth, speaking to the pot over the fire in a language I didn't recognize.

But on the morning of my third day there, as the fog began to clear, I did come to know it. It was the language of the fey.

She told me parts of her tale then, weighing each word like precious stones, parsing out the story between answering pleas from the passel of children running in and out of doors and refreshing the odd little symbols drawn in chalk on every doorway and window.

My only question was the one she already knew– could she set my Keena free?

That, the crone didn't know. But she swore to try, if in return I aided her in searching for the other souls captured by the fey.

I sharpened myself a new axe, and before long I had set to work.

I see my Keena still, every blue moon when I gather the strength to follow the crone into the fairy ring, or else I hear news of her when the latter returns with a different child saved. There is a somberness about her now, so unlike the little drop of sunlight that brightened my every waking moment. It is a rare moment when I can come close enough to speak to her, but I relish every chance. It is slow going, this new work of mine, as fey magic is a thorny bramble near impossible to unravel. But I swore that I would understand it, that one day I would undo the spell that keeps Keena trapped under fey rule like all the others.

One day, I will bring my daughter home.

His daughter was stolen by the Fae. Two decades of fruitless searching later, his time for vengeance has come. He kicks in the door to the Queen’s throne room as she flies to her feet, grabbing the hilt of her sword before recognition flashes across her face. “Dad… what are you doing here?”

[rayyanishere1]

A Day in the Life of a Loser: Loser Ford AU

Chapter 4: Science Fair

25th April 1970

Good morning, my dearest diary! Today is the day of the science fair!

I managed to finish my perpetual motion machine just in time and it's completely functional. All I have to do now is safely transport it to the school. I'm gonna win first place, I'm sure of it!

All the other participants had already set up their projects a few days ago, but I'm sure there's still a few good spots left. Just hope I don't have to take the dingy spot with the ceiling leak.

Well, I'm off! Time to blow those judges' socks off!

∆∆∆

"Sixer! Are you ready or not?"

"Yes, yes, coming!"

Ford looked at himself in the mirror and for once, didn't completely hate himself. Hell, he felt proud!

He rushed outside to Stan and loaded his project into the cargo. It was still moving, as a perpetual motion machine should.

"You're excited, aren't you?"

"Of course! How could I not be?"

Stan laughed and ruffled his brother's hair. Ford protested, complaining that he spent a while making his hair look good.

"It doesn't matter how you look, nerd. Your motion-whatever-machine—"

"Perpetual motion machine!"

"Yeah, that, if what you said about it being 'impossible' to make is true, you've got a fortune under your belt."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

Ford carefully carried his project into the school's gymnasium and scanned for a place to set up. Nothing much he can see from here...

Wandering around the many tables, he failed to find a spot for himself. There had to be at least one place, right?

Just as he dreaded. The only empty space was a dark, dingy area with the leak in the ceiling.

Well, no turning back now. He reluctantly set his machine on the table and covered it with a tablecloth so that it wouldn't get wet. Who knows what could happen if it did!

"Ford, help me out over here!"

Hearing his brother in need of assistance, he rushed over.

Drip, drip, drip.

The judges roamed the gymnasium, taking note of the sheer amount of baking soda volcanoes. They should just ban them at this point.

∆∆∆

Things seem to be going well. The judges don't look impressed at the other presentations. Lots of baking soda volcanoes.

Oh, I see them! Are they skipping my table?

∆∆∆

"Hey! Aren't you going to judge mine?"

Oh, the poor thing, they hadn't even noticed him! The judges walked over, seeing how the area was... Less than appealing.

Ford pulled out a fairly thick stack of cue cards and hyped up his project.

"For millennia, people tried and failed to create perpetual motion machines. But here with you today is—!"

Dramatically, he yanked the tablecloth away to reveal his perpetual motion machine! Except for the fact that it wasn't in motion.

"Wait, what? What happened to my machine?!"

He frantically looked over it, trying to figure why his perpetual motion machine had stopped.

"Perpetual motion means nonstop, isolated movement, kid. It violates the first few laws of thermodynamics."

"Try again next year."

How could this have happened? It was working just this morning, and the days before that! It literally never stopped! That was the whole point!

As Ford desperately searched, he felt a drop of cold water fall on his head.

Sure enough, the tablecloth hadn't completely protected his machine from the dripping water above.

So close, Ford. So close.

A familiar set of footsteps came up behind him.

"Hey, Ford? You alright? Where are the judges?"

Ford failed to compose himself in time and broke down. He barely forced out a few words between sobs and hiccups as Stan tried to decipher his gargled speech.

Soon enough, Ford gave up on verbal communication and gestured to his broken machine. He wiped his tears, trying to get a good look at it.

There seemed to be some exposed circuitry on the back. How had he never noticed that?

He reached out towards it and promptly got shocked. Right, wet hand. Not a great idea to touch exposed electronics.

"Ow!"

Ford quickly retracted his hand, wincing in pain. God, today was a gift that kept on giving. Not in a good way, but you get the point.

Stan rushed to Ford's side, making sure he wasn't seriously injured. He's no expert, but an electrical shock didn't sound good.

"Let's just get outta here."

He led them both outside and back to Stan's car. Being in a more private space, Ford's waterworks restarted at full force.

"Everything was going so well! I told everyone that I was going to win—I was! I did the impossible! I forgot to tighten a few loose screws and now everything's ruined—"

He rambled on and on about how he messed up everything, how stupid he was for not noticing such a thing, the whole shebang.

There was really no room for Stan to interject and stop Ford from spiralling seeing as he was talking a mile a minute.

Stan opted to wait it out.

He drove them to the nearest convenience store and got them snacks. Jellybeans for Ford and Toffee Peanuts for himself.

"You feelin' better, bud?"

"No."

Honestly? Stan expected that answer.

Ford stared off into space, not bothering to eat his jellybeans.

"Wanna go home?"

That seemed to snap him out of his trance.

"What's Pa gonna think of all this? What are we gonna tell him?"

Welcome back, panic! Didn't miss you whatsoever!

"He's gonna find out eventually... I'll talk to him."

On the drive home, Ford looked outside the window. He eyed the beach, thinking, how difficult would it be to swim from New Jersey to Europe?

"We're here."

Seems like Filbrick wasn't home yet. That's good! I guess?

Ford bolted upstairs without a word. He needed to unwind. Write in his diary. Anything.

He was practically scribbling on the pages with how fast and sloppily he was writing. His thoughts went faster than his hand, even the ink in the damn pen couldn't keep up.

∆∆∆

Today did not go as planned. A leak in the gymnasium's ceiling made it's way inside my machine and blew it's circuits.

I humiliated myself in front of the judges.

I humiliated myself.

∆∆∆

It was only when tears started to fall on the page did Ford realize he was crying. Again.

Maybe he should just go to bed.

[minxinq]

oh, close your weary eyes

[ace-writer-lani]

May I present to you Jason and Reyna, the chaotic duo pre-HoO (cause I said so):

Jason: ...

Jason: You didn't

Reyna: But I did

Jason: I—Whatever happened to being a respectable figure of authority?

Reyna: Please, like you've never broken a rule or two before. I know you were the one who filled the baths with hundreds of orbeez

Jason:

Reyna: Which took forever to clean up so thanks for that

Jason: Fine. Just don't be surprised by the noise tomorrow morning

Reyna: Oh I won't be. In fact, I'm looking forward to it

[The next morning]

Octavian [screaming at the top of his lungs as he runs outside in a bear mascot costume]: WHO DID THIS?! RELEASE ME AT ONCE!

Jason [trying not to laugh]: Can he not take it off?

Reyna: Nope. I made sure the zippers were glued in place

Jason: How did you even get him in that?

Reyna: I had a few people who owed me some favors

Jason: ...I'm kind of afraid to ask why

Reyna: Good

[dani-ya-dig]

Something that I really love about Sam, and have always loved since I listened to his first video, is how he entirely subverts the expectations for vampires. Not just modern day ones but the expectations that have always been there for vampires.

(And his southern accent but that’s not what this post is about)

When vampires first rose to popularity, what they represented was a fear of sexuality. They were inherently sexual creatures of the night who lured innocent people into the shadows with their powers of seduction only to drink their blood.

We even see this in most of the redacted vampires. Vincent was literally introduced as “the flirty vampire”. While later he was given some depth and we learn that he just picked up that act from Porter, it was still an integral part of him in the beginning. Even Alexis, as little from her as we have heard, she speaks in a very low, sultry tone. Even when she isn’t trying to be flirtatious.

This is a very inherent part of vampires some lore even describes it as a power that they have. (I believe this is addressed within Castle Audios lore as “the lure”)

But Sam doesn’t have that. He isn’t flirty. He isn’t seductive. Not in the traditional way anyways. (Because HOO BOY AM I SEDUCED)

Sam doesn’t try to lure Darlin in when they first meet. He doesn’t really try to lure darlin at all, really. They just naturally grew close. It was active flirtation, it was just chemistry and care.

Even when they do admit their feelings for each other Sam still doesn’t want to have sex. He hadn’t for over a decade, and the last person he had sex with stole his life away from him. Of course he didn’t feel comfortable.

And I think this all helps to portray the most important part of Sam’s backstory.

He wasn’t supposed to be a vampire.

He never planned on being turned. He didn’t want Alexis to turn him. He never wanted to be that.

The same could be said for Vincent, he didn’t wanted to be turned either. He wasn’t given a choice. However, Vincent still took on that flirty vampire persona.

I think this illustrates the difference in how Vincent and Sam grew into their turning over time. Vincent, while extremely depressed in the beginning of his turning, grew into it. He eventually learned to accept himself as a vampire, and even embrace it. I think him taking on that traditional, flirty vampire act, was his way of embracing what he now was.

Lovely’s part in Vincent’s character growth, rather than teaching him to accept himself as a vampire, was helping him to learn that he didn’t have to be someone new just because his mortal self is dead.

Sam, while he accepted the fact that he was a vampire passively, he never really embraced it as part of himself. I think this is really well illustrated by how he handled feeding before he fed from Darlin. “I’ve never been one to savor the taste. I just chug it like a supplement and pour a cup of something I actually like the taste of”. (That was paraphrased pls don’t hurt me if I got something wrong). He accepts that he needs blood to survive but he is going to incorporate it into his life passively, and focus on the things he actually likes. He accepts that he is a vampire, but he won’t take it as a part of himself.

I think this is even shown well in Sam choice to “chose morality” (as it was put in the trigger warnings of that one video, still hung up on that btw) rather than live forever. He accepts that he is immortal, but he isn’t going to embrace it.

To Sam vampirism isn’t a part of himself, it’s just something that was done to him. Like a giant scar that covers his body, his face, his eyes, even his core. It still isn’t him.

The way that Darlin plays into Sam’s character growth, I think has potential to change this and I think it’s something interesting to explore.

So far Darlin already has played a pretty big part in Sam’s character growth. Before meeting them he was closed off. Isolating himself from pretty much everyone but a few people in his clan. Darlin has brought him out of that. He now has people, he has the pack. While he does love Vincent and Lovely (and possibly Fred and Bright but we will never know what happened with them), it’s important to have people outside of the ones that you are forced to interact with by circumstance. Especially if said circumstances are horribly traumatic for you.

Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and all that.

However, I think Darlin inadvertently helping Sam to embrace the vampiric aspects of himself is interesting concept. Especially now that Sam has fed from Darlin, and enjoyed it, and saw how much his mate enjoyed. I think Sam slowly accepting vampirism is absolutely a possibility in the future.

If it ever happens or not I will still adore Sam’s character all the same.

Anyways this was a really long winded way of explaining that I like how Sam subverts the typical tropes with vampires, and I appreciate how it ties into his turning being non-consensual. I like to rant if people haven’t picked up on that already lmao.

Also I miss my girlfriend. Erik bring Sam back home immediately.

[dilatorywriting]

Heyo, heyo. I Live! Sort of lol

So! I just wanted to say thank you all so much who have reached out over these past two months to check in. Genuinely, I have some of the nicest people hanging around here and it forever blows my mind. I'm still on the wonderful winding road of Fixing My Brain, and can have some ups and downs with the meds I've been on, but we're getting there!

Anywhohaw, I'm not just popping in to say hello, lol. I have ACTUAL writing for you all! Woo hoo!! It took me an Age to finish this bit because I think I was just so down in my head that no matter what I was writing, it never felt good enough, so I wrote and scrapped this chapter at least a dozen times. But! At last! I did a Thing. So I hope you all enjoy it!

Also, as a note, I have so many messages and asks from so many lovely people! And I will get around to them! I'm just portioning my spoons into little bits for the moment, so one thing at a time. But I see you all! And I adore you and will answer you soon!

<3

[princessmaybank]

Hey Princess 👑! Chefs Kiss 💋😘 for writing and you deserve the 1.5K celebration 🎉 and may I please get Cherry red 🍒 with prompts 24 and 25 cause they are my fav! Thank you so much have a wonderful day! Love you lots!😘

Thank you so much honey and absolutely! Sorry it took forever baby, I hope you like it though!

Gettin' Mouthy

Pairings: Dom!Boyfriend!JJ x Kook!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Annoying!reader, public, hickeys, fingering, grinding, oral (Fem. receiving), rough!JJ, gagging, daddy kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, etc.

Summary: Reader had an attitude problem and JJ decided to fix it!

Author's Note: I hope you all like this one, I would really enjoy some feedback on this one! Enjoy!

Moodboard

"I just don't see why you can't get me both Jay!" She whined. All day long it's been this back and forth game of which thing to buy her. I couldn't afford both and she damn well knew that but didn't seem to care I guess.

"You know I can't afford both!" I said, irritated. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Maybe you should get a better job." That's when I snapped. I pulled her by the wrist until we were far enough away from the street in a small alleyway. I pushed her harshly up against the brick wall and my hand found its way around her throat. "Who do you think you're talking to?" I ask through gritted teeth.

She rolled her eyes again, not giving a fuck. "You. Who else would I be talking to?" She snipped at me. "I suggest you choose your words very wisely darling." Her attitude hasn't gone away, I can still see it in her eyes and in her body language. "Or what?" She asks. I paused. She's a brat but she's never been this bratty. "Who do you think you're talking to?" I ask, getting genuinely upset. Her arms crossed against her chest with another huff and eye roll. "There's no one else around...who do you think I'm talking to?" She said in the same tone that started this mess. I let out a huff as my tongue swirled the inside of my cheek.

"You're testin' my patience darlin'." I gave a small fake laugh. "Oh boo hoo.." Y/N mocked. I slammed her against the wall again, keeping my hand around her throat. "Fix your attitude or I'll fuck it out of you." I snapped. "Take me home then." She rolled her eyes with a huff. I let out a deep chuckle.

"Oh no princess, you wanna act like a spoiled little bitch in public, you're gonna get punished in public too." I smirked and her eyes finally went wide. "What? No Jay..I was only playin! Swear!" She tried to save her ass but it wasn't gonna work. "Too late for that princess. You're fucked." I grinned.

I swiftly grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. My other hand roamed her body as did my lips. I kissed and bit at her neck, leaving a path of beautiful red markings. "Jay- s-someone might see us!" She whined. I continued my line of kisses down her breasts and smirked against her skin. "Shoulda thought about that, huh." I said looking up at her with a shit-eating grin. All she could do in response was whine some more and wiggle around, but she wasn't going anywhere.

"Remember princess...I'm still in charge, no matter how bratty you think you can be." I whispered in her ear before flipping her around and pinning her to the wall. I put my hands on her hips and pushed my hips against her ass. I placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, causing a small gasp to come from her lips. My hand snaked its way up under her dress. I gasp in her ear when I find a little surprise. "No panties? Naughty girl." I tease her slit by lightly running my finger over her folds. "For you daddy. For later." She whined again. "You're lucky it isn't a windy day, doll." I release a breathy moan in her ear as I insert my middle finger into her. She moaned and tried to grind against my hand. "Ah ah ah. I don't think so princess." I pulled my hand away from her and placed them both back on her hips.

I jutted my pelvis forward, lightly grinding my cock against her ass. "JJ, please, stop teasing!" Y/N yelled. My hand slapped over her mouth to keep her from shouting more. "Gonna get us caught with that loud mouth of yours." I pulled her a little bit away from the wall so I could bend her over. "C'mon princess you know what to do...hands on the wall." I smirked as she huffed before complying.

"Mmm good girl.." My hands slowly massaged her ass, giving each cheek a little slap before dropping to my knees. "Wha-what are you doing Jay?!?" She yelled again. Without a second thought I gave her pussy a nice slap causing a yelp. "Shut that pretty little mouth princess, ya never know what could get shoved in there."

She finally settled before my tongue swiped from her clit to her asshole. I grabbed her thighs to support her as my tongue swirled around her perfect little cunt. Moans spilled from her lips, even when I peppered her lower lips with kisses. My tongue circled her hole before plunging in and out with the most beautiful noises coming from my little lady. "Oh fuck Jay- need more!" She always loves to whine.

Before I knew it she was fuckin' herself with my tongue. Her hand crept down to her clit and toyed with it as she pushed herself backwards. "Oh..oh shit..." Moan after moan leaving her body. Just when she thought I'd let her cum, I pulled away and stood up. Once again she whined and complained about me doing this to her. Y/N turned around to start arguing with me.

"Really Jay?! You knew how close I wa-" I cut her off by slamming her against the wall. I quickly pulled off my belt and wrapped it around her head and used it as a gag. I stepped close to her and bent down to her ear. "Since you seem to have no control over that pretty little mouth princess.." I smirked.

One hand stayed on the extra length of my belt while the other worked my jeans down. My lips attacked her neck, earning me some muffled moans. I got my cock out and started pumping myself and continued. Y/N was eager and so was I, she took my cock and led it to her entrance. "Someone's needy.." I tease. She rolled her eyes at me. "Even gagged you find a way to give me attitude.. unbelievable" I let out a small laugh before slipping inside her juicy pussy.

I lifted her leg up and gently started thrusting. Her head fell back against the wall and she closed her eyes. Y/N didn't get to sit like that for long because I pulled her head back up with the belt. "Eyes on me princess." My thrusts got faster and I forced her to keep looking at me.

I was a mess. She looked so beautiful like this. I took the belt off and urgently attached my lips to hers while speeding up my thrusts some more. I reached down and started circling her clit. "Ya ever-gonna mouth off- again princess?" I said through pauses for breaths. "mmmm fuck, probably!!"

I pinched her clit. "Ow! fuck, no! I won't ever mouth off ever again daddy!" She squeezed her eyes shut as my pace quickened and I suddenly got sloppy. "Almost there princess..c'mon.." I grunt. "Oh fuck- don't stop daddy! please please please...right there" She squealed and came on my dick, nearly sending me over the edge.

"Where do ya want it princess?" My breath hitched. "In-inside.." I smirked. "Fuck..yea take my cum princess..fuck- just for you..oh shit.." I released inside of her just like she wanted. She was still recovering as my liquid shot into her.

"Sorry for mouthing off Jay, I learned my lesson, even though, no one came down here." She giggled and I chuckled. "Next time your ass is on display princess. But I am glad I fucked your little tantrum away."

[hydrngea]

Heyy!

Can you do a rafe cameron x reader fluff where she gets made fun of by some girls at the country club and rafe overhears and helps her?

Take your time and thx!

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛

a/n : thanks sm for the request 💕💕💕 sorry i took forever !!! hope you enjoy!

masterlist / latest rafe fic / ao3

—————

there were all sorts of talk about you and rafe cameron spreading around the country club.

everytime you went out to drop off an order at a table, you’d hear whispers of your name and feel heavy glares being burnt onto the back of your uniform.

you knew that the people were gonna talk. you were the kook-kings new girl and that was enough to rile up every girl in the obx, especially since you were a pogue.

the sharp voice of your boss pulled you out of your trance as you washed some dirty dishes.

“hey, y/n! switch places with jere at the bar so he can go on break.”

fuck

that was the last thing you needed today and might as well been your last straw. of course he had to switch you to the bar ten minutes before the end of your shift. you internally groan at his words, whilst putting forth your best country-club smile and pushing past the trap door.

the second you walk out you’re ushered over by a high pitched girl from the corner of the bar. great. of course it’s the assholes from school calling for you.

“hey, yoo-hoo! we need some refills over here.”

you hurry over to the group and forced greeting “how may i help?” you ask with a fiegned sweetnsss to your voice, silently praying under your breath that they won’t order anything too complex.

you definitely jinxed yourself.

“can we get 6 spicy margs with extra spice?”

you can’t help the disappointed sigh that escapes you- it’s probably going to take you past the end of your shift to finish mixing that many drinks.

it seems like your dissatisfaction is apparent to them, because the girl in the middle, bianca, you think, cocks her head to her left and pouts.

“is there a problem? you do realize this is your job right?”

you’re taken aback by her comment, even though it shouldn’t surpise you. she’s been kildare’s self appointed queen bee since elementary. her words aren’t very out of the ordinary for her, but they still sting at your chest.

another one scoffs, shrugging a shoulder as she combs her fingers through her freshly balayaged hair. “i know it’s hard for you pogues to be on your feet and work for your money, but what’s the point of the paycheck if you can’t even do your job enthusiastically?”

your clench your fist at your side, digging your fingernails into your palm while biting your tounge. you try not to make it seem like they’re getting to you, but you know by the burning feeling on your cheeks that your body is betraying you.

“so 6 spicy margaritas?” you attempt to end their shaming of you by clarifying the order, but they totally ignore you, continuing on with their degradation.

“really, y/n. if you want the tips you should at least act happy to be at your job.”

happy was the last thing you were feeling at the moment.

“i’ll take that into-“ you voice cracks in the middle of your sentence, your frustration catching up to you. suddenly, you feel small, small like you’re the size of the fire ants that strut over the ground; even smaller. “consideration.” you finish, muttering the last word.

you make to turn on your heel and start on the drinks, yet you hear your name fall from one of their lips once again. you try to focus on pouring the alcohol increments correctly, but you can’t stop yourself from tuning into what they have to say about you.

“i bet she’s gonna leave rafe the second she drains his bank account.”

“please; rafe will leave her once he finally realizes he deserves way better than a pogue. just a matter of time.”

the conversation just keeps getting worse, to the point you almost drop the marghertis as you carry them over towards them.

you let out a somewhat relieved sigh when you see rafe walking over towards the counter, twirling his car keys on his pointer finger.

“hiii rafe.” bianca says, her voice drippping with desperation that almost makes you gag. rafe acts as though she were on mute, completely ignoring her while he beelined in your direction.

he leans against the bar, offering a smile that’s reserved for just you “hey baby,” rafe greets. “ready to go home?”

“yea. let me just grab my stuff and i’ll be out quick.” you reply, quietly as you finish wiping down your work area.

rafe notices your hushed tone and your upset mood without you having to announce it; you have that angry look in your eyes and your skin is flushed scarlet with your jaw it taut. something’s up.

he watches as you trudge out the door and slightly juts out his lip in a small pout, wondering what’s going on with you right now. usually you’re all cheerful and happy when he comes to pick you up from work.

“of course y/n needs rafe to rescue her from work.“ his ears capture the annoying voice of one of the girls gathered together at the corner of the bar. he turns around, looking at them with his brow furrowed in disgust.

“god, i don’t know how he deals with he-“

“what’d you just say?” rafe pushes himself off the counter and stomps his way towards them, giving them all a glare made of steel. the girls all tense in their seats, voices piping down as they just look at him.

of course fucking bianca’s the one to open her mouth to try and respond. rafe doesn’t even give her the opportunity to say something, cutting her off before she can’t even start. “keep that mouth shut. especially if your gonna talk shut about my girl.” he threatens, eyes shooting daggers at her.

just then, you appear from the corner and rafe walks away from them, possessively wrapping an arm over you shoulder, pressing a firm kiss to your forhead and then your lips. “let’s get out of here, huh?” he whispers against your lips and you reply nod, giving him a small smile before you bring your fingers to interlock with his which rests by your bicep.

you can’t help the giggle which falls from you as he mutters a pointed comment towards the girls while you walk past them- loud enough that you’re sure they heard.

they definitely will be keeping their mouths shut from now on.

———

taglist : @maybankslover @mrsstarkey1 @of-many-fandomss @penny4yourthoughts @dearreader03

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Pages of You, by @wolfpants

Surprise! I got a thermal binder for Xmas and this is what I chose to do with it first!

Big learning curve still in progress here, which is why my margins are RIDICULOUSLY NARROW after trimming. The challenge for me with ppbs is the cover, forever and always. I'm determined to sort them out, though.

If you don't know it (but of course you know it), Pages of You is a fabulously engaging muggle AU Drarry fic set in 1980. It is delightful and centered on a Harry who is discovering his bisexuality, the joy of sex in general, and the joy of Draco Malfoy (scion of his bookselling godfather's nemesis/cousin-in-law, naturally). Harry is so dissembling and boyish and on-the-cusp in this fic, and Draco is repressed and yet determinedly himself. God, it's great.

The typeset was quick on this one as I was keen to try out my binder, but I still took the time to pick out the best fonts I could to represent Draco/Hematite's and Harry/Shopboy's handwriting.

A few little notes under the cut on the process.

I used "presentation paper" for the cover which is matte, lightweight cardstock (37 lb) but has some sort of coating that makes it print more like photo paper? Idk. It was the right size/price. I took a leap and bought some soft touch laminate to cover it. 1.5 mil film on a roll is a pain! Omg! But I will figure it out. And it does come out SO nice and light and soft to the touch, true to its name. I think it'll be a dream for wrap covers if/when I figure out applying it more neatly/simply.

The thermal binder was quite simple to use but I think I have a learning curve on the application of the glue strips ahead of me. I cut them slightly shorter than the length of the spine (per YouTube) and still had a little spill-over at the ends, and even up into the side of the cover/text block. Nothing disastrous but not as neat as I'd like.

I bound the block to a blank piece of the cover paper, not sure about laminated cover plus thermal binder, but didn't cut the blank cover down (reasoning it'd be trimmed with the text block anyway) and hoo boy. Forgot about how hard it'd be to trim with a big wonky cover sticking out. Hence the over-trimming.

I then glued the laminated cover to the block with PVA and trimmed again. So much trimming!!!

Final step was to iron on the gold HTV on the front, which went on like a dream and makes me feel feral whenever I look at it.

I want to try this bind again to improve on the trimming issues but I’m still super satisfied with this product. It’s a tangible functional lovely object I can read and hold and touch. Love it. Looking forward to more paperbacks in 2025!

[gilverrwrites]

A Roy with 🥺✊❤️🎇🙈🛏️

🥺 first time headcanon

Roy had been lusting after you for so long, that the first time you banged it out, he took it as confirmation of a full-on relationship. He’s not dumb, he’s been around the block, he's had many a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits situation, but for some reason, the moment you climbed into his bed, something in his brain clicked and he unconsciously decided then and there that you weren’t getting back out.

When he tells the story he makes a joke out of it, says you fucked him so good he just had to commit, but that’s not quite true. The decision had been made the moment you looked at him from your perch on his pillows with those beautiful captivate eyes he’d been dreaming about for months.

✊ masturbation headcanon

Big fan of porn. When things like Onlyfans and Pornhub partner programs became more mainstream he didn’t hesitate to start paying for his porn (sometimes detrimentally, when he’s at his worst), but he’d always been a gooner. When you started sleeping together, he gave it up, but he pesters you constantly to let him film the two of you doing it.

Don’t worry babe, he won't get your face in it. If anybody miraculously managed to get a hold of it, they’d never know it was the two of you.

He needs it for when you’re apart. He absolutely cannot go more than a couple of days without jacking off to photos of your naked body, to audio clips of you saying his name over and over. He’s dramatic af and you’re so cruel for making him go without.

❤️ making love headcanon

Roy's got a high libido, he’ll find any excuse to fuck you, cute outfit, sexy music, the dropped hat, anything. But there’s something about seeing you acting all domestic with Lian that makes him not want to fuck you, but to make love to you.

Finding the two of you laughing over a breakfast you’ve made together, seeing Lian come to you to ask for help or advice without fear or doubt, watching you bond over a shared interest or job that needs two pairs of hands.

Call it baby fever, or brooding, or any other name, but watching you step-parent is enough to make him smitten every time, and as soon as he gets you alone he’s kissing you so tenderly, leading you to the softest surface in the vicinity as he unbuttons your pants real slow. Telling you the whole time how amazing you are, how he’ll never get over you, how he wants to be with you forever.

🎇 orgasm headcanon   

His hips have a mind of their own when Roy reaches orgasm. He loses any and all control. If you’re on top, it’s legitimately like riding a mechanical bull, and he’s got the crescent-shaped bruises along the backs of his shoulders to prove it. From the second he feels himself hitting his peak, his hips start going buck wild, all the muscles from the waist down growing tight as he fucks you in a frenzy. Even the softer, slower session usually ends in the room being filled with the fierce sound of your skin smacking together as he ruts into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever cum.

🙈 something they’re shy about asking for

As previously mentioned, Roy has spent a lot of time browsing pornsites, he’s seen some stuff, and it’s only natural to be curious, to want to try it for yourself. He worries though, about asking for too much too soon, that it might overwhelm you, or make you think of him in a new light. He’s not a totally depraved pervert, okay... maybe he is, sometimes. He doesn’t want that fact to put you off him, so instead he spreads out his fantasies, and makes sure to enquire about your kinks in-between so as not to seem demanding.

You already know of course, and you do your bit to remind him that you’ll love him no matter what, that you’re down to try most things, but otherwise, you’ll just have to wait until he’s ready to file his next request.  

🛏️ soft sex headcanon

When you’re doing it softly, you really are doing it soft (sans Roy’s orgasm). Specifically, if you’re feeling blue, but horny. Roy’s gonna wrap you up in an oversized hoodie, or blanket, or anything big and cosy. He’s gonna hold you so delicately, and do all the work; long, lazy thrusts, from tip to hilt, countless gentle kisses to your favourite spots, a smile on his face every time you look at him, all while he coos in your ear, whatever praise or comfort you need to hear, all of it straight from the heart.

Bonus, cause there wasn’t a prompt that covers this and I wanted to talk about it

Roy goes nuts for tanlines. There’s just something crazy sexy about it to him, when you strip off and he can see the outline of whatever tiny piece/s of swimwear you’ve been wearing. Or when your clothes ride up, and he can just see a peak of the contrasting line where the darker skin meats your natural colour. He’s enamoured and he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to trace those strokes with his tongue.   

Smut emoji prompt requests are now closed.

[dragonflylady77]

i got you a whole flower shop

A Harringrove Valentine's Day fic I wrote this afternoon

present for @shieldofiron and also @lovebillyhargrove

oh and it's on ao3

Steve walks into a florist shop on Valentine's Day but his plans change after he gets a text not meant for him and he finds himself faced with Billy freaking Hargrove looking like every wet dream Steve has ever had in the past fifteen years since he finished high school.

“Sorry, I’ll be right with you.”

Steve made a vague noise of acknowledgement, too busy staring at the message he’d opened as he’d stepped into the first flower shop he’d spotted.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight baby. I’ll tell Steve I have to work late. Love you x”

He blinked a few times but the words didn’t change. The text was clearly not meant for him. Or maybe it was, he rationalised. That was one way to break up with your boyfriend without having to have the conversation.

He ran a tired hand over his face and put his phone back in his pocket. He wouldn’t need flowers after all. He tried to remember how much stuff he’d left at Jamie’s place during the few months they’d been dating and wondered if there was anything he’d miss if he didn’t get it back.

“I am sorry but it turns out I don’t actually need flowers after all,” he said, his eyes floating over the various buckets of colourful blooms in front of him.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The voice sounded surprised and familiar and Steve turned around to face its owner.

“Hargrove?” Steve said in shock, stepping closer to the counter. He hadn’t seen Billy Hargrove since graduation fifteen years ago. “What are you doing in Chicago? I always thought you went back to Cali…”

Billy shrugged and Steve took a moment to really look at him. He still had those light brown, almost golden, curls that Steve had always wanted to run his fingers through, piled high in a bun, his face fuzzy with scruff, blue eyes trained on Steve. That part at least was familiar. Steve let his eyes move down, taking in the white tee, tight across the front under the black apron with the shop’s logo on it, Billy’s biceps bulging when he crossed his arms over his chest. Steve’s mouth felt very dry all of a sudden and hoo, was it always this hot in this store?

Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He did, however, run that tongue of his along his bottom lip, another familiar sight, one that resonated inside Steve’s chest, in a place he’d been ignoring for years.

“Um, sorry, didn’t mean to…” Steve fumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. Fuck. He was being so awkward for no reason. He was usually a little bit better at human interactions.

“It’s okay, pretty boy, I know my good looks can be distracting,” Billy replied with a chuckle and Steve felt his face heat up. “To answer your question, my car broke down outside of St Louis and I realised I’d been kidding myself. There was nothing in Cali for me anymore. And I couldn’t leave Max alone with Neil.”

“Ah. I-I heard about him but Max never said—”

“I told her to keep a secret. Couldn’t risk Neil finding out. I made it back to Indianapolis on the Greyhound. Met a nice lady on the bus who offered me a place to stay for a while. Worked my ass off in a bunch of different jobs. Mona and her partner kinda adopted me, so when they moved to Chicago, I followed.”

“That’s why Max went to college in Chicago, isn’t it? Because you were there too?” Steve asked, a few things making more sense now that he knew about Billy.

“Yep. Got her out of the dorms too. She loved it at Mona’s as much as I did.”

Steve smiled. He was glad that Billy and Max had gotten away from his asshole father. He had only managed it himself recently, after more than a decade of working for his dad, being belittled every time Richard Harrington was in the office, no matter how good Steve actually was at doing his job. He’d jumped at the chance when he’d seen that job listing in Chicago and he’d cherished forever the memory on his father’s face when he’d handed in his resignation.

“That’s great, Billy,” he finally replied, and meant it.

“What about you, princess? What brings you to the Windy City?” 

“Oh, I live here too. Been here about three years, I think. I don’t have to tell you how good it felt to be able to tell my dad I was leaving and he could shove it.”

“Ooooh, go Stevie! Always knew you had it in you.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Took me twelve years but I got there in the end…”

“That’s what matters.” Billy grinned. “So, what are you after? Roses for your girl, on account of the day? Or something more original?”

“Oh, um, I, um…” Steve sighed. “I was gonna get flowers for my boyfriend, but after the text I got before, I don’t think I will.”

“Boyfriend?” Billy was staring and Steve realised he probably needed to elaborate a little.

“Yeah… My best friend Robin helped me realise some important things about myself after high school. She made being queer in Hawkins a lot easier. We were flatmates for ages then she moved to Chicago to be with her girlfriend. You know her, actually, Heather? Holloway?”

“Oh. Wow. Yeah, I remember Heather. So you’re…”

“Bi. Yeah.”

“And you have a boyfriend.” The way Billy said it, it wasn’t a question.

It left a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. He got his phone out of his pocket again and sent Jamie a text saying they were over.

“I had a boyfriend.” Steve snorted. “Whoever he meant to text when he texted me can have his cheating ass.”

“You don’t seem too cut up about it,” Billy said, his eyes roaming over Steve and Steve found that he liked it. All at once, memories of basketball training and all the posturing and looks Billy would send him in the showers and hallways of Hawkins High took on a different flavour. All the pet names Billy used to call him when they were teenagers… the same ones he’d used a couple of times in the past ten minutes they’d been chatting.

“I’d only been seeing him for a couple of months, wasn’t anything serious.” Steve decided to take a chance. He crossed his arms and leaned forward on the counter. “It does mean I am now free tonight…”

Billy mirrored his actions, the smile on his face genuine and warm. “Is that so, pretty boy?”

“Uh huh… yanno, in case anyone was wondering.”

“That’s certainly pertinent information.”

“I thought so.” Steve leaned a little closer, smiling when Billy did too. “What time does this fine establishment close?”

“Right now,” Billy replied, without a glance at his watch as he removed his apron and set it on the counter next to them.

“Really? Won’t you get in trouble with your boss for closing early on Valentine’s Day?”

“I’m the boss and I have a hot date,” Billy said with that smirk that had always made Steve’s blood boil. Only now he could name that emotion for what it was: lust. There was something else in Billy’s eyes, something more magical and durable.

“Anyone I know?” Steve asked, his heart beating double time in his chest.

Billy didn’t reply, instead he rounded the counter and came to a stop in front of Steve with a grin. He cupped Steve’s face with both hands and breached the last inches separating them, bringing their mouths together. Steve moaned, his hands on Billy’s wrists to hold him there. He opened his lips to Billy’s questing tongue the second he felt it, pouring all that he was feeling into the kiss, and getting it back ten fold.

Steve let go of Billy’s wrists to grab his waist and dragged him closer. He couldn’t get enough of Billy, hands roaming up his back and down to cup that ass Steve had been dreaming about for months after high school, sparking his bi awakening.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry it took me so long to find you again,” Steve said, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Billy’s.

“S’okay, Stevie, you’re here now,” Billy said, dipping his head for a quick kiss. He buried his fingers into Steve’s hair and locked eyes with him. “Never letting you go now I’ve got you, though, I hope you know that.”

“Fine with me,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s middle, delighted to feel Billy’s hard body against his. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve. I don't know what flowers you like yet, so I got you a whole flower shop.”

Steve laughed as Billy locked up for the night then they went up to the apartment Billy was renting above the shop where Billy cooked them dinner. Then they spent all night in bed, worshipping each other, and it was the best Valentine’s Day Steve had ever had.

[facelessanimator]

I have so many questions about your Guardian Angel AU

Like I would assume this was after Timmy loses his fairies?

Also what happened to him, like how did he became an angel? Why?

How did the council managed his appearance and what happened when he woke up?

Who assigns him his charges and how exactly his duty as a Guardian Angel works?

Also what happened with his previous life? Like I guess the 500 years coma was in Fairy World years, since he beccomes Hazel's Guardian so on Earth things kept going, what happened with his parents, his friends?

Hoo Boy this is a nice doozy! SO!!

1 and 2: This AU takes place when Timmy is only 17, just One year shy of losing his fairies forever. Unfortunately the combined stressors of: - Knowing He's gonna lose his Fairies. - His parent's neglect becoming worse after age 14 to the point he spends weeks alone. - Cosmo and Wanda talking out loud about properties in Fairyworld they're looking into once they leave. -Francis's bullying taking an even harsher turn to the point Timmy was put in the hospital a few times. - The thought of losing Peri, the only one who took his emotions into mind at all times. and a whole lot more, sadly caused him to become Pataint 0 of a brand new disease that effects mainly godkids.

The Disease was named T.H.S [Timmy's Heart Syndrome], it shares similarities with BrokenHeart Syndrome but it mainly effects godkids who have been subjected to intense amounts of stress due to neglect or bullying. Timmy was affected with all the factors of it, at once, for the length of YEARS, so his death made the disease easier to contract as it sorta evolved.

After his death, Timmy was found, in pretty rough shape, at the rainbow bridge of Fairyworld by random civilians. He was quickly taken to the hospital where it was discovered his rough shape was due to his new wings growing in. Of course something of this magnitude has to be called in. Effectively putting the hospital on lockdown, none allowed to enter without explicit permission from the Council or Jorgen.

The death of a godkid was unheard of.

================================================

3: Once the Council learned of Timmy's fate, they basically locked the hospital he was at down TIGHT. Nobody outside was allowed to see him and any information of him was swiftly redacted from everywhere, even his Godkid file was sealed under the highest security. Timmy was basically wiped from everywhere in efforts to protect him from the eye of the public and media not even Cosmo, Wanda or Peri know he lives in Fairyworld, and he was put under strict 24/7 monitoring by none other than Jorgen, cause nobody wanna mess with him tbh.

But the news always spreads.

Waking up from his coma was a whole fiasco on its own.

Its a tad bit terrifying going to "sleep" with immense chest pain in your room and suddenly waking back up in FairyWorld with a whole new look and some BIIIIG reserves of magic that you have no idea how to control. Its the main reason Timmy has a halo rather than a crown. The Council and Some very powerful fairies put so much magic into Timmy's halo in an attempt to curb or even completely halt his magic until hes able to control it himself.

Which sorta takes the next 500 years. COUGH

================================================

4: HIS CHARGESSS!! As before- with his new powers comes with new abilities- and in the beginning his ability led him to kids who were suffering T.H.S at stage 2. His abilities and the spread of the disease made it harder and harder to keep under wraps so the Council decided that a new wing was needed to both study and attempt to stop the spread of the disease. Thus The Guardian Wing of FairyWorld was born. The Council held reign over it for a while, splitting into 2 to lighten the load until a proper Commander could be assigned.

Jorgen and More Higher Ranked Fairies were assigned to train Timmy in how to control his powers, leading to a few unexpected explosions till he managed to get a handle on it.

Lets just say Timmy out of Mortal School was actually a very quick and advanced learner. Advancing through most of his trainings, within the 500 years it took, with efficiency and speed not many fairies possess. Wasn't long before he was advancing through the ranks. TLDR- Timmy is actually the Guardian Commander, most Guardians are actually assigned charges by HIM. Tho Guardians are assignment status is a totally different process If anyone's interested!

================================================

5: ......His previous life was......not so good. His parents came home from a 5 week vacay to notice the house was exactly how they left it. Barely realizing their son was gone until a few days passed. Only then did they realize something was wrong. Once they entered his room and found it a mess with some blood scattered around did they THEN call in the emergency...

unfortunately no body was found. Chester and AJ were devastated once Timmy's disappearance was announced in the school. They honestly though that he was finally taken on vacation by his parents.. They spent years grieving their friend and even meet up on his birthday to remember him. [Disclaimer: In this AU Fairyworld and Earth kinda run on different times, time in the Fae realm kinda goes faster than Earth.]

Trixie acted like a total attention hog, claiming how she was so endeared by Timmy's crush and acting like she lost the love of her life- [I had personal beef with her as a kid XD]

Hell even Crocker and Francis paused their antics for a while once it was announced. Francis eventually went back to his old ways but Crocker became quiet, a more introverted teacher until he retired.

Tootie took his kidnapping the hardest cause she's the only one who knows. She knows he passed on. She was on her way to visit when she spotted the ambulance and a strange family rushing out with Timmy in their arms. She found where he was buried....and every year, without fail, on his birthday, she left flowers at his grave. She never told anyone, in fear they may see Timmy's memory in negative light or use it for attention.

As Well as a Personal Favor to a Strange Pink Haired Woman.

Bonus: Tormented Creator

[joannaliangart]

A LIST OF THINGS I CAN’T REMEMBER (2024) 6.5 x 6.4 in 23 page case bound book and handmade pastepaper. Papercut art and poetry

The “list” includes things of the mundane, humorous, and heavy. At its core, this book asks what exactly is worth trying to hold onto in your memory. Whether because of its trivial or traumatizing nature, is it ever better to forget?

---

not sure if this is called papercut art? I'd been referring to it as 'paper art' in my mind but googling that leads to a lot of like, folded/oragami stuff too

final project for my praxis class in 3rd year! Got a good reception towards it during crit which was lovely C:

god this project took fucking FOREVER, I'm glad I did it because it turned out almost exactly how I pictured it but my goodness gracious AUGH it was a lil rough. I'd be working on this thing literally ALL day from morning till Very Late into the night for SEVERAL days straight to meet deadline it was kinda crazy. My floor was covered in a fuck ton of pastepaper I'd made and my finger was getting callused from holding the x-acto knife so frequently orz 23 pages of papercut images AND papercut words?? whhooweee

Watching a full playthrough of in stars in time is what kept me company during those long long days and nights haha, tis a very potent memory I have now (which now that the whole project-making ordeal is over is a p fun memory lol; isat is v v good)

some thoughts about this piece I jotted down in preparation for crit day:

A list of things I can’t remember my intention was to gather a list of mundane unimportant things as well as more like sad or poetically troubling things to disrupt it throughout. At the end it says “if I want to remember these things” because that is also something that I don’t remember, and it’s kind of the crux of the whole piece as this book at its core is about what kind of things are worth trying to hold into in your memory. 

That last page had black text because it’s the hardest to remember or think about, and as such it’s meant to be hard to read/make out clearly. 

The wavy black on the spine area is supposed to be like an encroaching darkness of forgetting lol

used pastepaper to make paper art trying to take advantage of the textures and colours I can make with pastepaper

+crit day installation! There were no white plinths left just this bright pink one?? But I was like. Actually that might fit the vibe lol and I think it did C: made the whole piece pop

For the assignment requirements we had to choose something from one of the special collections we visited, and I chose Janet Kellett's beautiful Qualicum Blue. And was also sooo grateful that googling it brought me to a whole website of theirs that had info on its creation. It's what got me into the rabbit hole of pastepaper and hoo boy! making it was a wholleee process haha; here's the slides I made for when we had to present our material research:

I did a WHOLE bunch of experiments; I really wanted to know what I could and could not do with pastepaper and I'm glad I pushed the material so much in the amount of time we had to complete this part of the project. My prof was surprised at how many experiments I did haha

+fun fact: I asked my prof if they could recommend me a place to source black paper for my book, and they sent me to what looked like such a weird sketchy on the edge of town looking place lmao But it was all good they were like a mass producer of paper or smth and they had a lil storefront? in their warehouse selling what I assume were leftover batches in smaller quantities; that was p fun and! Now I know where I can find paper

Also I got some remarks that the papercut art reminded people of The Very Hungry Caterpillar C:

[catmansquad]

Suncream

Miguel X M!Reader (I remember seeing a post saying that the MXM content was drying up. So here's my contribution)

A day at the beach, beneath the scorching sun, but Miguel has forgotten his suncream. Fortunately, you’re on hand to rectify that little issue…

The sun was a harsh taskmaster, his blistering, searing light piercing through the cloudless blue skies and down to the silken white sands below. The few burning grains of sand that slipped into your sandals left you hopping from one foot to the other across the beach to where the two loungers remained unoccupied. Before you, the great view of the sapphire ocean stretched out seemingly forever until it blended with the horizon. It was beautiful here. You dropped into the blue lounger pulling off your sandals and brushing the hot sand from your feet, toes curling in irritation. Your attention was drawn to the sight of the other beachgoers; building sandcastles, swimming in the crystalline seas and splashing playfully, or racing across the sands in the midst of a volleyball game. You tired to relax, bag down beside you, and your gaze turned to the form of the man who took the lounger beside yours; reclining back with a relieved groan as he stretched his long legs out. He was almost too tall for the length of the lounger, almost. Clad in red shorts and a white shirt, red eyes hidden behind dark glasses as he turned his head to look back at you, a cocky smirk on his lips. ‘See? It told you this would be a good idea…’ A look of incredulity passed across your features, and his smirk only grew. ‘That’s not how I remember it, Miggy! I remember having to pester you for weeks- weeks before you’d agree to step away from your job to come to the beach with me.’ Miguel chuckled softly, watching you pout. ‘You could have had as much of time as you wanted- you know that, guapo, all you have to do is ask. But, no… You had to go out to scorch your feet on the sands…’ He shook his head, tutting softly, still with that amused smile on his face. He was toying with you, he knew you so well.

It had been five, maybe ten minutes before you were drawn from your book by Miguel sitting up with a low groan. ‘… Wow, it’s hot… Very hot. Hoo…’ You gave him the side eye, those glasses low on his nose, the glint of his red eyes squinting at you against the light of the sun. He was seeking your attention like a needy puppy, and you weren’t going to be so easily moved. Your eyes slowly returned to your book, rereading the same line twice over before you regained your focus. Beside you, Miguel nudged his glasses back up, eyes narrowed softly in irritation as his mind formulated a plan to regain your attention. ‘Ay, dios mio… This heat is so shockin’ bad…’ He pulled off his glasses, sensitive eyes scrunched shut against the blinding light of the sun and fingers curled into the hem of his shirt. ‘Actually…’ He knew he had your full attention as he pulled his shirt off.

He left it draped over the back of the lounger as he reclined back down, humming in delight. You couldn’t take your eyes off the man you loved; those broad shoulders, powerful arms, strong chest and rippling abs. ‘Show off…’ You snorted, hearing his little curious noise as he looked over. Then he grinned. ‘Uh-huh? Who’s showing off? I’m not… I told you, it’s too hot for me to wear a shirt.’ He settled back down, with the faintest smirk still present. You read through at least two more pages before the idea clicked into your mind. ‘Miguel…?’ ‘Mm?’ ‘A-are you only wearing suncream on your face?’ He glanced over as you marked your page and put the book down. You clearly weren’t going to get any reading done while Miguel demanded your attention. ‘Yeah. Put it on before we came here, remember?’ You pulled down your own sunglasses, glaring at him before pushing them back up. ‘So, you’re not wearing any on… the rest of your body? You’re gonna burn! Or worse, Miggy-  surely you know more than me about cell damage and skin cancer a-and…’ ‘Shh, shh…’ He hushed you softly, one hand held out as he pushed himself up with the other. ‘It’s all good. You brought the suncream with you, didn’t you? Of course you did. I know you so well, mi corazón…’ His words were a soft purr, reassuring. You sighed and rummaged into your bag, withdrawing the bright yellow bottle of high-factor suncream, shaking it thoroughly. ‘Turn over, Miggy, I’ll do your back.’ He chuckled softly at your words, you could feel his crimson gaze upon you, even through the glasses. ‘Well, you could. But I’d much rather you do my front…’ He licked slowly across his lips as that confident, smug smirk returned. A soft sigh tore itself from you as you hesitated, not yet ready to brave the scorching sands with feet hovering above them. ‘C’mon, Miggy, move those long-ass legs of yours, so I can reach you.’ He was still smirking, still unmoving until he shook his head. ‘Nah, lo siento, mi amor, I’m far too comfortable… You know where you can sit, though?’ He patted his lap, those baggy crimson shorts. You only had one choice, and he knew you wouldn’t refuse.

‘Ow! Ow!’ You tip-toed rapidly across the scorching sands and all but dropped into Miguel’s lap, straddling across those powerful thighs. ‘Comfy…?’ He purred softly, his huge hands moving to rest on your waist and giving a firm, if gentle squeeze. Miguel was an amazing boyfriend; tall, strong, charming, loving, and utterly doting. That wasn’t even starting to get into the man being a living, breathing Superhero, a half-spider down on a genetic level, the man who could bench over ten tons, outsprint most methods of transport, and spin natural webbing from his wrist. Also, the fangs, the fangs that showed when he smiled, the fangs he licked his tongue down when he was feeling playful. The fangs that he had nipped and bitten you with so often that you had begun to develop a resistance to his paralytic venom. What was the term? Mithridatism. That was it. His brother was a nice guy, too, but you certainly weren’t romantically interested in him. ‘Comfy.’ You responded, giving the bottle a firm shake before squirting it into one hand. Miguel relaxed, humming, pleased. He was still wearing that cheeky smirk as you began to rub it into his broad shoulders. ‘Mm..’ The delighted groan escaped him as you rubbed it in, working out the tension in those huge shoulders, touch firm as his form was very much unyielding. ‘…. That’s it, mi amor, just like that… Yeah… Muy bien....’ You moved your hands lowers, rubbing more cream down his arms, his tanned skin sparkling in the sun. You felt his fingers drum across your waist, squeezing softly, making his muscles flex and veins pop under your touch. ‘Mmm… Your touch is so good… I love it…’ ‘Miggy, don’t tell me you’re getting off on this…’ You hesitated and he lifted his head from the lounger, fangs peeping out from his smile. ‘Hey… Don’t stop. What about the rest of me?’ You rolled your eyes and squired more cream, focusing on his right arm, stroking down the skin until you reached his hand, entwining your fingers and slipping through his touch. As he turned his palm over, his claws emerged from the fingertips, curved and wickedly sharp. You had seen him cut through most things. Including one guy who had threatened you. Never mess with a possessively loving Superhero.

You had done the same to his other arm, with the same tender care. He shivered softly at the spurt of cream on his chest, fanged grin back as you began to rub it, massaging it across his broad body. He pushed out his chest as you rubbed across his hard pecs; every part of him was unyielding. But your worst mistake was squirming softly in his lap to try and get more comfortable. That soft groan followed, and you felt him stir beneath his crimson shorts. ‘Miguel, seriously, we’re in public….’ ‘Uh-huh? Nothing bad is happening here; just a guy making sure his boyfriend won’t burn in the sun.’ He clenched his abs as your hands ghosted over it, stopping shy of the band of his shorts. Then you began to softly rock in his lap. Almost immediately, his grip on your hips tightened sharply, stilling you. ‘Hey… Don’t make it too obvious… I know I’m the hottest man you’ve ever met, but we can go back to the hotel, if you really want to play…’ You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you watched him slowly lick his tongue down a fang, stopping shy of the sharp tip. You shifted softly again, resting your hands on his shoulders and leaned in to kiss his familiar lips, hearing that pleased rumble in his chest as the kiss deepened until you reluctantly parted. ‘But I just spent so long making sure my super hot boyfriend wouldn’t get burned in the sun…’ ‘Uh-huh? Way I see it, guapo, you just spent a long time caressing my muscles. So… If you can control your urges for just a little while longer… Then we can go back…’ His fangs scraped softly against your lower lip as he nipped there before pulling back. ‘… and you can caress all of me for as long as you want… How does that sound…?’ You rocked softly in his lap once again as you kissed him, uncaring for who saw you. Only Miguel mattered in that moment. ‘… Te amo…’ He rumbled to you before you parted once more. ‘I know, Miggy…’

[ruindunburnit]

Hello!! for the dn ask meme can I ask #29 and #30?

Oh my goodness I can't believe this took so long to answer!!!

29. This is a genuinely difficult question simply because there's only one bad one out there. The live action films (Death Note, The Last Name especially) struck me as so odd at first but really grew on me. The musical was outstanding of course (and I love musicals). The one that I love most though has to be the 2015 Drama, for the following reasons:

1. It took the best parts of previous adaptations and media and told the whole story in, like, 11 episodes. Goddamn.

2a. It reframed the classic story in such a fresh way that I truly recognised the solitary confinement as torture and actually *hated* L for torturing Light.

2b. It told the story beat of Light being confronted with being Kira (both times!) as an intervention -- a terrifying moment where you have to tell someone you love that what they are doing is hurting themselves and other people around you, and you cannot bear to watch them do it anymore. It turned this supernatural aspect of the story into something human and relatable in a way that amplified the drama.

2c. The way Light was forever changed by his experience with L, how he saw L and Ryuzaki as two different people - one he hates and one he only wanted to be his friend, and how he was reshaped by his confinement, reminded me of the Highsmith story 'The Glass Cell': the story of a man who left a traumatic existence in prison but can no longer live as a free man unless he is being constantly watched; he left the cell, but he us still inside it. It's a wonderful touch that told me the drama took itself seriously as crime fiction, while adding new discourse and dimensions to the whole story.

3. The cast. Masataka Kubota was pitch perfect in looks and delivery as soft-boy-turned-jagged Light Yagami, Kento Yamazaki brought the weirdo to life, and Goki Maeda as Matsuda was a sassy delight, and played so well with Aizawa. (Also, shout-out to Mogi! Loved him! And Soichiro may have not been played by Takeshi Kaga this time, or had a mustache, but that was OUR FATHER. SIR.)

4. Did I mention that it took the best parts if previous media -- literally?? The finale had whole frames that could have been copy-pasted from the manga panels (which I spotted immediately because I have read that manga too many times). And Shoko Himura (a role from the original live action films) had an impactful enough role that it made up for all the times Ryuk mocked Misa.

(Sorry, Ryuk was a low point for me. Hated him in this one).

5. Near and Mello. Hoo boy, they rocked!

6. The plot twists were excellent.

7. The fan service. You know what I mean - but then, Kubota has played enough queer characters (including a role in the film 'April Fools', alongside Death Note alum Erika Toda) that he brings it like it's just second nature.

Anyway, if you can't find the Drama (English subtitles) anywhere, let me know -- I know a guy.

30. If you know me, you know I write minor characters from Death Note like I'm the union leader getting them enough work to keep them paid to the end of the month. So I'm going to try and answer this succinctly:

If it's not the Yotsuba Group (they all have such rich inner scumbag lives!), it's Sachiko and Sayu. Those girls Need their own short story where they're the focus.

[joyish-little-boy]

One Backstory to Rule them All

Anyone else think about how Sanji's backstory parallels every other Strawhat's backstory?

1. Luffy - Luffy is the most obvious, as they quite literally flashback to Shanks losing his arm right after Sanji explains how Zeff sacrificed his leg for Sanji. It's interesting the parallel here - because Shanks sacrifice is what took Luffy a step further in his dreams and made him determined to be the captain of his own pirate crew rather than simply joining Shank's crew, which is what he wanted to do previously. Now, for Sanji, Zeff's sacrifice had the opposite effect and Sanji chained himself to Zeff and what remained of Zeff's dreams rather than being pushed forward by it.

2. Zoro - I find it interesting that all of the Monster Trio parallel each other in their backstories in that all of them constantly lost when they were kids. Zoro lost 2001 times to Kuina, Luffy lost 50 fights to Ace and 50 to Sabo every day, and Sanji was constantly being beaten by his siblings. Each were called weak by those beating them, and each grew past that. What's also interesting to me is that there's the specific method of losing in Sanji's losing montage that's a direct callback to Zoro's backstory, as Oda includes multiple scenes of Sanji being beat at fights with wooden swords.

The difference being that Kuina is a decent human being and doesn't abuse Zoro. She calls him weak, but ultimately respects him as a rival and Zoro respects her in turn. Luffy also eventually earns that respect, though Sanji never does which leads to a noticeable difference in how Zoro and Sanji see themselves and their places on the crew - Thriller Bark I think being a perfect example of how Sanji believes that he's replaceable in a way that Zoro doesn't.

3. Nami - Nami and Sanji were both kids that found themselves in abusive situations, though at different ages. For both of them, their abuse centered around a man who's belief in their own superiority led them to a sense of entitlement to what was theirs. Arlong believed in his own biological superiority and Judge believed in the superiority of the Vinsmoke name, as well as genetic superiority which led him to experiment on his own children. Arlong values the lives of fishmen, the lives of the rest of his crew over the lives of Nami and the rest of her village. Judge values the lives of his other children over Sanji, seeing him as a failure for the way he was born (although it's also mentioned he blames Sanji for what happened with Sora). I think another very interesting parallel in their stories is the role of their respective older sisters. Nojiko and Reiju both privately support their younger sibling but both cannot stand up to the abusive figure in their lives. Nojiko gets tattoos to match Nami's to help her feel less alone, she listens to Nami, and does her best to try and support her through the 8 years of hell (8 years being another parallel to other members of the crew including Sanji). Reiju for her part laughs along with her brothers, but never lays a hand against Sanji and does her best to patch him up after everyone is gone. Their actions are indirect and discreet, save for the final fights, and that muted care is a very interesting part of each of their characters and it's why, I think neither of them felt it was their place to accompany their siblings on their journey. When Nami leaves, Nojiko lets her go, like she's always let her go. And Reiju pushes Sanji to leave, just as she pushed before. That regret of not being able to help more will stick with them forever.

4. Usopp - Usopp's backstory is all of 5 seconds long and still manages to parallel Sanji's somehow??? If I had a nickel for each strawhat who's mom was sick and died from illness when they were young, I'd have 2 nickels-

5. Chopper - HOO boy the parallel of your biological family hating you for the way that you were born and neglecting/abusing you for it hits right on Chopper's blue nose. Now, it's not all bad for either of them, though - considering they each had someone that accepted them for who they were. Chopper had Hiraluk and Sanji had Sora. Hiraluk inspired Chopper to be a doctor, emphasizing he had the most important qualification - a big heart. Sora meanwhile cried about how kind Sanji was to Reiju and her nurse, when he told her to "get better soon", calling him the "sweetest boy in the world". That kindness - that caring nature, is something that Hiraluk and Sora would do anything to protect and it's so evident that these two cared deeply for their kids. It's why Hiraluk ate that poisoned mushroom and encouraged Chopper to become a doctor and Sora ate the ruined food despite her fragile constitution and asked Sanji to cook for her again! This is love, baby!

These two kids were willing to risk so much to bring nourishment and care to the ones they loved, BOTH standing up to their biological families - Chopper fighting through his old herd of reindeer to get the mushroom, and Sanji sneaking out risking his father's wrath and braving the storm and wild dogs to deliver the food. Hiraluk and Sora are Chopper's and Sanji's source of encouragement which kick start each of their passions. And both of them tragically die which is honestly just heartbreaking. But all hope isn't lost, and both Chopper and Sanji find a new mentor, ones who are strict - but do care a lot for each of them, and help them develop the discipline they need to learn their respective crafts. Kurehara and Zeff are interesting parallels, both tough older mentors who are sharp of tongue and strict with their new apprentices. They can be this way without discouraging Chopper and Sanji, because the passion has already been ignited and so it's easy to see how they're good fits for helping these two live up to their full potential.

6. Robin - the big parallel with these two boils down to these two scenes and I sob about both of them.

Saul and Reiju, telling them to set out to sea, placing faith in the vastness of the world, knowing that they've done everything they can for now and planting that seed of hope that someday Robin and Sanji will meet people that can give them what they deserve is just such a touching moment. While this parallel is interesting, what's also interesting is the ways in which these two characters differ. The danger that Robin runs from is something that chases her, whereas the danger that Sanji runs from is his family and once he's made it onto the boat he's free. Robin thought she would never be safe, Sanji thought he was safe up until the wedding fiasco. And precisely the thing that hurts Sanji - the fact that his family wanted him gone - is so different from what's hurting Robin - the fact that she'll never be left alone by the government. Robin is wanted for the skills she and only she has, her story is (wo)man vs world, her bounty set at 79,000,000 which is the literal value on her head. Sanji is unwanted for the skills he, and he alone (in his family) lacks. There's no bounty, no one goes after him. His story is man vs self and undoing the damage that was done to his psyche as a child. It's so fascinating to me the way that both of these characters are saved by the crew in similar but such different ways, the way that each of them wanted to die, but for different reasons. Robin wanted to sacrifice herself because she's been betrayed and hurt by the world so many times that she couldn't trust in the strawhats' love. She loved them too much to risk being hurt like that again. Sanji wanted to sacrifice himself because he'd rather die than inconvenience the crew. Rather than not believing in their love, he doesn't believe he's worth that love, preferring to solve his problems on his own. And I think that it's so fitting the way that both of their stories intersect in Wano, with Robin being able to protect Sanji and Sanji finally believing in his own worth enough to ask for help. They're such different characters, with Sanji wearing his heart on his sleeves and Robin holding her's close to her chest and such interesting mirrors of each other.

7. Franky - they're cyborgs, what else can I say? The difference here is clear - Sanji's body was modified without his consent, whereas Franky modified himself. They're also both unwanted children, with Franky's parents abandoning him on Water 7 whereas Sanji's father was happy when Sanji left.

8. Brook - the parallel here is in the loneliness that both of them experienced, and really Sanji just got a taste of what Brook went through. Sanji and Brook were both parts of different crews before they were on the strawhats, albeit Sanji as a child and for a very short time, whereas Brook was with the Rumbar pirates for a longer time as an adult journeying very similarly to how the strawhats are now. Both were the sole survivors of their respective crews after being attacked, and though Sanji had Zeff on the rock, neither of them communicated with each other for the first 70 days after their initial agreement. Sanji felt a taste of the 50 years that Brook had to go through, with no food or water or way to escape off his abandoned pirate ship.

9. Jimbei - honestly I don't really have a good comparison for these two, other than they're both people who when confronted with the cruelty of others chose irrational kindness. Jimbe eventually learned how to live with and respect humans, and Sanji wouldn't let his family die, even after everything they put him through. They're both people who derived their codes of honor from others - Jimbei from Fisher Tiger and Queen Otohime and Sanji from Zeff. Idk maybe there's more there, but i don't really have too much to say about these two

Anyways, idk i just think they're neat 👉👈 and the way that Oda threw in parallels to all the other character's when completing Sanji's backstroy is so fascinating to me