#but she's also still just a lost kid?????

[holyblonded]

lost and found | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!teader

summary: you get lost in the city of london, causing the team to panic

warnings: light angst i would say

notes: decision day is slowly approaching and i still haven’t figured out where i am going 💔

“You have your toothbrush?”

“Yes, Olga.”

“Your Switch?”

“Yes, Olga.”

“Did you pack your gum? I know you only like that specific brand.”

“In my front pocket, Ol.”

“And what about—”

“Ay!” Alexia’s voice cut through the rapid-fire questions as she appeared at the top of the stairs, suitcase rolling behind her. “The game is in England, not Australia.”

Olga shot her a glare. “I’m just making sure she has everything.”

“You’re acting like she’s going off to war,” Alexia huffed, joining the two of you at the door. “We’ll be back in three days. And you’ve asked her about her toothbrush three times already.”

“I just don’t want her to forget anything,” Olga argued, crossing her arms. “She always forgets something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Alexia beat you to it. “She’s not a child, Olga. She’s sixteen now, not five.”

“Exactly! Sixteen! Still a kid.”

“I’m right here, you know,” you cut in, hands on your hips. “I can pack my own suitcase.”

Both women looked at you, then at each other, then back at you. “No, you can’t,” they said in unison.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not that forgetful.”

Olga raised an eyebrow. “Really? Last time you forgot your phone charger.”

“And your cleats,” Alexia added. “You had to borrow Lucy’s, and they were two sizes too big.”

Your cheeks flushed. “That was one time.”

Olga folded her arms, giving you a pointed look. “You also forgot your passport for the Madrid trip.”

“That was… also one time.”

Alexia snorted, shaking her head. “You nearly gave the whole team a heart attack when we realized at the airport.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Okay, fine. Maybe I forget a few things.”

“A few?” Olga scoffed. “You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”

Alexia laughed, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just excited.”

You swatted her hand away, scowling. “I’m not a kid.”

“No,” Olga agreed, grabbing your suitcase and giving it a once-over. “You’re a teenager who needs to be reminded to pack her gum.”

You looked at her, exasperated. “I packed it! It’s in my front pocket. How many times do I have to say it?”

Olga narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing you. She unzipped the front pocket of your backpack, digging around before pulling out the pack of gum triumphantly. “Okay, good. You’re off the hook for this one.”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. “Olga, you’re acting like she’s going off to college, not an away game.”

“Someone has to be responsible,” Olga defended. “Especially since you’re the one who taught her how to pack last minute.”

You grinned. “Yeah, Ale, you did teach me that.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, feigning offense. “I taught you how to pack efficiently, not forget half your things.”

“Sure, sure.” You gave her a cheeky grin. “Whatever you say, ‘last-minute queen.’”

Olga looked between you two, hands on her hips. “Great. Now there are two of you.”

You and Alexia shared a look before bursting into laughter.

Olga sighed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. I’m surrounded by chaos.”

“Aw, come on, Ol,” you teased, nudging her arm. “You love us.”

She huffed, but her eyes softened. “Unfortunately, I do. Now, let’s get going before you two make us late.”

You grabbed your bag, giving her a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

Alexia laughed, grabbing her suitcase. “Come on, chaos queen. Let’s go win a game.”

The three of you headed out the door, Olga grumbling about being stuck with the most forgetful people on the planet while you and Alexia shared a conspiratorial grin.

The plane had barely taken off, and you were already on your third lap around the cabin. There was just something about private planes that filled you with an uncontrollable burst of energy. Maybe it was the excitement of the upcoming game. Maybe it was the sugary snacks you’d snuck on board. Either way, you were bouncing off the walls, much to the team’s dismay.

“Estrella, sit down!” Patri shouted as you zoomed past her, nearly knocking over her water bottle.

“Can’t catch me!” you yelled back, leaping over Aitana’s outstretched legs as she tried to trip you.

Pina watched you with wide eyes, probably fearing for her life. “She’s going to bring the plane down,” she muttered to Marta, who just shook her head in resignation.

“You’d think she’s never been on a plane before,” Marta sighed, crossing her arms. “Does she have an off switch?”

“Apparently not,” Patri answered, dodging you again as you sped by, this time with a bag of chips in hand. “Estrella, those aren’t even yours!”

“Finders keepers!” you shouted, shoving another handful into your mouth as you took another lap.

Alexia’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “Estrelleta. Sit. Down. Now.”

You skidded to a halt, nearly crashing into the seat in front of you. Turning around slowly, you met Alexia’s fierce glare. Her arms were crossed, her jaw set. She looked like she was about to lecture you into next week.

“Uh… just stretching my legs?” you tried, giving her your best innocent smile.

“Sit. Here.” She pointed to the empty seat next to her, leaving no room for argument.

You swallowed, trudging over to her like a scolded puppy. She waited until you were buckled in before giving you a look that made you shrink an inch. “You’re grounded for the rest of this flight,” she said firmly. “No more running. No more stealing snacks. And no more bothering the team.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were silenced by her raised eyebrow. “Yes, Ale,” you mumbled, slumping into your seat.

The plane hit a pocket of turbulence, jerking violently. You barely moved, used to the occasional bumps. But Alexia… she went rigid. Her hands gripped the armrests so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her face lost all color, and she looked straight ahead, eyes wide and unblinking.

You blinked at her. “Uh… Ale?”

She didn’t respond. Her breathing quickened, and she looked like she was about to pass out. The plane dipped again, and she grabbed your arm, fingers digging into your skin. Hard.

You yelped. “Ale! You’re crushing me!”

Her grip tightened. “We’re going to die,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Your eyes widened. “What? No, we’re not! It’s just a little turbulence!”

“We’re going to crash. I knew it. I knew we should’ve taken the bus.”

“Ale, we’re over the ocean.”

She didn’t seem to hear you, her panic in full force now. Her nails dug into your arm as the plane shuddered again. You tried to pry her fingers off, but she was holding on with the strength of a hundred angry lions.

You looked around, desperate for help. Across the aisle, Lucy was watching, a smirk playing on her lips. You locked eyes with her, mouthing, Help me!

Lucy’s smirk widened. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and pretended to sleep.

Your jaw dropped at the betrayal.

You tried again to wriggle out of Alexia’s death grip, but she was unmovable, her eyes fixed on the seat in front of her like she was facing down her worst nightmare. “Ale, seriously, you’re cutting off my circulation!”

“If I die, you’re grounded forever,” she mumbled, voice trembling.

You groaned, slumping back in your seat. “If I survive this, you owe me so many snacks.”

Another bump, and Alexia’s grip tightened even more. You bit back a scream, deciding right then and there that you would never, ever run around on a plane again…. at least not when Alexia was onboard.

You walk with the team through the unfamiliar city streets, taking in the crisp air and the buzz of the city as you fall into step beside Aitana. Your hands are stuffed into your pockets, your head on a swivel as you soak in the sights. It’s a routine walk before the big Champions League match, meant to loosen up your muscles and calm any nerves.

The air is charged with anticipation, and you can’t help the bounce in your step.

Aitana’s talking about something, probably the opponent’s midfield setup or a funny meme she saw, but you’re barely listening. Something’s caught your eye. You slow your pace, the rest of the group moving ahead as you stop in front of a shop window.

Your heart skips a beat. Plushies. The cutest plushies you’ve ever seen. A row of them, perfectly lined up behind the glass, big eyes sparkling and tiny paws outstretched. There are kittens, puppies, even a little fox that looks just like the one you used to carry around as a kid.

You press your face against the glass, eyes wide. You need them. All of them.

You look over your shoulder. The team is a few paces ahead, their laughter echoing down the street.

Without a second thought, you slip into the store, the bell above the door chiming as you enter. You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cuteness in the small shop. Shelves upon shelves of plushies, each one more adorable than the last.

Meanwhile, Alexia’s heart is racing. She glances over her shoulder, expecting to see you trailing behind Aitana, your usual spot during these walks. But you’re not there. Her chest tightens.

“Has anyone seen Estrella?” she asks, voice sharp. Her eyes scan the group, counting heads. You’re not there.

Aitana turns, a frown forming. “She was right behind me…” Her voice trails off, eyes widening. “Oh no.”

Panic sets in fast. Irene’s head whips around, searching the street. Marta’s already jogging back the way they came, eyes darting from alleyways to storefronts.

“Estrelleta!” Alexia shouts, her voice echoing down the street. She doesn’t care about the stares from strangers or the worried looks from her teammates. Her chest is tight, her stomach churning. You’re gone.

Irene puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly. “We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She’s sixteen,” Alexia hisses, her voice cracking. “In a city she doesn’t know. Alone.”

The rest of the team is buzzing with nervous energy, faces pale and eyes wide. They’ve all seen you sneak off before, but never like this. Never without telling someone where you’re going.

“She was here just a minute ago,” Patri says, voice trembling. “I should’ve been paying attention.”

“We all should’ve,” Marta snaps, more at herself than anyone else. “Where the hell did she go?”

Alexia’s head is spinning. Images flash through her mind, dark alleys, strangers with bad intentions, you calling out for help and no one hearing you. Her heart races, her hands shaking as she digs out her phone. She tries calling you, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Damn it!” She curses, panic twisting her gut. “Where are you?”

“We should split up,” Keira suggests, her voice urgent. “Cover more ground.”

“Agreed,” Irene says. “Alexia, you and Lucy check that way. We’ll go down the other street.”

Alexia’s moving before she can even think, Lucy at her side as they jog down the sidewalk, eyes scanning every corner, every doorway. She can feel her pulse in her throat, panic clawing at her insides. If something happened to you…

She shakes her head. She can’t think like that. You’re strong. Smart. But you’re also sixteen, and impulsive, and sometimes you don’t think things through.

Her chest tightens again. You’re also hers to protect.

“Estrella!” she shouts again, her voice breaking. “Where are you?”

Lucy grabs her arm, forcing her to stop. “Alexia, breathe. We’ll find her.”

Alexia presses her hands to her face, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. She can’t fall apart. Not now. Not when you need her. Then, she hears it.

“Oi! Where’d you guys go?”

Her head snaps up. You’re standing on the corner, arms full of plushies, eyes wide in confusion.

Alexia’s legs nearly give out in relief. She rushes toward you, eyes blazing. “Where the hell were you?”

You blink, looking down at the armful of stuffed animals. “Uh… I saw these and…”

“You saw plushies?” Her voice is shaking, fury and relief battling for dominance. “You saw plushies and decided to leave without telling anyone?”

Your face falls. “I was gonna catch up—”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Her voice cracks, and you realize just how shaken she is.

Your heart sinks. “I’m sorry, Alexia. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She exhales, her shoulders slumping. She pulls you into a tight hug, nearly crushing the plushies between you. “Don’t ever do that again,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

You nod against her shoulder, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I won’t. I promise.”

Irene, Marta, and the rest of the team catch up, relief washing over their faces as they see you safe and sound. Aitana looks at the plushies and bursts out laughing. “Seriously? That’s what you were doing?”

You sheepishly hold up the fox. “He looked lonely.”

Pina snorts. “You’re unbelievable.”

Alexia pulls back, wiping her eyes before anyone can see. “You’re grounded.”

Your eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“For making me worry,” she snaps, but there’s no real anger behind it. Just pure relief. “And for sneaking off like that.”

You open your mouth to protest, but her fierce glare shuts you up. “After the match, you’re grounded. No arguments.”

You sigh, but a small smile tugs at your lips. “Fine. But can I at least keep the plushies?”

Alexia looks at the fox, then at your pleading face, and finally relents. “Fine. But they’re staying in the hotel room. Got it?”

“Got it.”

She pulls you in for another hug, holding you tightly. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she whispers.

You nod, hugging her back. “I won’t. I promise.”

As the team gathers around you, all joking and teasing, you realize just how loved you are. And as Alexia keeps you close for the rest of the walk, you understand just how much you mean to her.

[clarisse-owo]

this post unearthed some memories in me and I'm making it everyone's problem.

so, here in brazil we had a magazine that focused on kids. they had a section with jokes, a section with games, a section with fun trivia and much more.

they also came with toys

every "season" was around 6 months and every edition came with a toy that was paired with the season's story. by that i mean comics.they created comics with fun stories for kids to get attached to the toys.

the first ones were just numbers and letters that turned into robots, but they did a circus themed one as the fourth toy season, they even had one themed around halloween stuff.

so, back to bugs. in 2012, they created the insectron (not related to the transformers one)

the first magazine of the season came with a binder, a toy, a page for the binder and the magazine (duh)

i know it looks awful.

the comic was really bare bones as far as i remember, but it was fun for kids and they had touys.

every magazine also came with a page containing insect info to put in the binder (that i sadly don't have or else i would show it.

this is the whole roster of toys

the toys are just insects that are robots. the transformation was minimal unlike transformers (example below)

these guys were kinda charming

these are the insect characters.

i had velokid the snail but i lost it a long time ago

this is the art style of the comic. very anime-esque

I don't remember if it had an animated series to go with the comic, but other seasons had, like reino dos dragões (dragon's realm), megaferas (megabeasts) and missão mitologia (mythology mission)

and why did i remember about that seeing an christmas jewel spider? easy, it's because of tana

she was my favorite as far as i remember and maybe the reason i liked spiders as a kid.

but I'm still pissed off that I didn't get a dragon toy. i really wanted the dragon's realm toys but they stopped selling them when i got to know about them and insectron was the one being sold.

but i got even more pissed to know that they stopped selling this magazine around 2018, when another company bought it.

Christmas jewel spider, Austracantha minax, Araneidae

This species, found throughout Australia, should not be confused with the American species of spinybacked orbweaver, Gasteracantha cancriformis. As seen in the photos, colors and markings can vary by individual.

Photo 1 by reiner, 2 by connor_margetts, 3-4 by pimelea, 5 by peregrine80, 6-7 by mozziemike, and 8 (egg sac) by thistlemouse

[artemisiasmuse]

always known | CH.4

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut eventually, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

< previous next >

there was no ignoring your festering affection to rafe cameron when a girl is in his face, very obviously flirting. you’d stepped away for a few moments to greet your college friends when she took your place, well much more than just your place. jealousy flares in you hot and omnipresent and you can’t pretend you don’t recognize it so instead you try to dull it. you drink more than you should and none of the boys at the party look anywhere near attractive compared to him. even at school you had staved off the advances of anyone approaching you because no one seemed to cut it. not when your best friend was becoming your ideal man, he always had been if you were honest. if anyone looked at your ex’s next to him they would’ve realized it before you did. You hated how easy it was for her to make her intentions known, how he seemed to be enjoying the attention, when you couldn't even own up to your own feelings. topper noticed your continued return to the kitchen and eventually cut you off in your warpath.

“hey easy there, ‘can’t have you drinking us all under the table.” you stumbled into him, not really watching your steps and his hands steadied your shoulders, retreating like it burned him, in case rafe saw of course. the thought made your frown grow deeper, even if rafe shared an inkling of your feelings you couldn't make him jealous, you’d been off limits for as long as you or anyone else in figure 8 could remember.

“move topper, i flunked an exam okay?” it was a lame excuse, one that would’ve worked had you not known topper for the majority of your life. you’d never failed an exam, that still hadn’t changed. clearly your excuse didn’t work because rafe found you in the kitchen moments later, you relished slightly in the absence of the girl on his arm.

“hey kid, how much ‘you drink?” it was a nickname from your childhood, that and “baby” which now was also tarnished by your desire. you had constantly reminded him he was only five months older but in elementary school that meant a world of difference. you stopped correcting him, you would never admit it but the nicknames rolling off his tongue in that earth-shattering deep voice of his made your brain a bit foggy. he would never admit that he had long since learned the implications of calling you “baby” in public and it only spurred him on more. standing across the island from him, you took a few seconds to respond, walking yourself down from the jolt of need in your core. at least you could blame your slow reaction on the alcohol.

“i lost count.” rafe made his way around to you, an eyebrow raised at your response. by the looks of it you were already drunk. unfortunately you weren’t drunk enough to black out and ignore the eventuality of him leaving with the pretty blonde, not yet at least.

“let’s stop hmm? i know you’ll be mad at me tomorrow otherwise.” he took the cup from your small hands, fingers grazing against yours and it jolted you. his voice was low and smooth against your senses, lulling you into submission, you were sure you’d do anything he asked if he said it like that. you looked up at him with crossed arms, rafe did his absolute best to ignore how your breasts propped up from the action, but really he couldn’t. you were too drunk to notice. you hoped you weren’t obvious when you looked at how his fingers wrapped around the plastic effortlessly, so much bigger and thicker than yours. he was too distracted to notice.

“it’s fine, go back to blondie.” your words slurred off at the end, you shouldn’t have said that out loud. again you could blame it on the alcohol.

“you jealous?” rafe found himself smiling at the notion, despite the glare you were fixing him with, he couldn’t pretend to be even slightly upset with you drinking yourself into a stupor if it was over him. he was sure that was unhealthy, whatever, you could lecture him later. you were always so good at telling him off, and he’d listen.

“what? no.” your immediate denial gave you away easily and rafe smiled wider, he felt too close all of a sudden and you stepped back, your back hitting a counter. rafe watched you try to make a distance between you two, adorably failing. he scanned your body for any sign that it actually hurt but from the way you were still trying to avoid his eyes he could see you were too preoccupied.

“it’s okay baby, i was jealous when you were hanging with top and kelc without me.” he practically purred the nickname, your hand clenching by your side. rafe wouldn’t tell you that he had purposefully been stringing along ‘blondie’ to make you jealous. your glares weren’t exactly subtle after a certain point. your heartbeat picks up at the pet name, at his honeyed voice lowering just for you. your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close, as close as she had him, maybe even closer.

“okay yeah i am, but it’s not the same.” you huffed out, proud of yourself for sounding coherent. you really should be better at holding your tongue but rafe looked too good today and you burned with jealousy that another girl had been able to ogle him all night. not to mention he was wearing the cologne he knew was your favorite, you’d even said so when he hugged you goodbye before class. the scent alone was making your frown deepen.

“what?” rafe couldn’t believe how transparent you were, he hoped you’d remember this tomorrow or at the very least you’d feel the same tomorrow. there was no way you were being serious though, you were just fucking with him. either way he really hoped he was understanding you right because he couldn’t let this go.

“forget i said that i’m drunk.” you looked away, embarrassed by how little rafe was reciprocating.

“no no, what do you mean?” he stepped closer, an inch away from you, sandwiching you between the counter and his body. you had to look at him, your expression cracking, you couldn’t pretend much longer, your eyebrows pinched and rafe recognized that you might be about to cry.

“rafe please-“ a plea whispered into the space between you two and rafe’s heart skipped a beat. the sound of you so desperately calling his name would haunt him forever but despite his mind fracturing into a million pieces, he still had to know.

“it is the same, it’s the exact fucking same, baby.” he leaned down to your height, his palms flat on the counter on either side of you, blue eyes bore into yours, commanding you to listen. he wasn’t teasing you. he was being sincere and you couldn’t believe it.

“are you sure?” there was barely any space between you two and the way he was looking at you should’ve been your answer but your vision was hazy.

“of course i’m fucking sure, did you think i cut contact with you cause i was tired of you? i did it cause you got a boyfriend.” he looked upset, you almost cupped his face with your hands, your fingers itched to press down the crease forming on his forehead from frowning. he watches the words sink into your pretty little head, how can you be so insanely adorable even now? he didn't plan for them to come out like this, in fact he had rather assumed it would be better if you didn't know the reason but it slipped out before he could stop himself.

“that’s fucking stupid rafe,” you say without any malice, your lip is jutted out in a pout and your eyebrows pinch together, god he wants to kiss you so badly. he’s a bit tipsy but not enough to think your first kiss should be at a party where anywhere can walk in while you’re struggling to stand.

“i know sweetheart, just-let’s do this when you’re sober yeah?” rafe worries you might not even remember this tomorrow.

“yeah…can you take me home?” he knows you mean tannyhill, you’d been staying there ever since your place flooded and he wonders sometimes why you don’t just move in. one time out of sheer curiosity, and maybe the fact that you were passed out on his bed, he looked up how much rent you’d get for your place.

“sure.” you lean into his side, his arm curling protectively around you as he moves you through the party, your eyes flutter closed cause as stupid as it is you trust him to get you out safely. the room spins around you but even if you stumble he holds you upright. you must have fallen asleep at some point cause the next thing you remember is being coaxed out of rafe’s car to get inside. the next twenty minutes or so are a blur as the sequence of shots hit you at once, you remember relaxing into rafe’s bed, the scent of him and his cologne lingering on the sheets and it soothes you enough to sleep.

your headache is the first thing that you feel before you can even open your eyes, you groan as you shoot up and see that you’re for some reason in rafe’s room, with him nowhere to be seen, in his shirt with no pants on. you’re greeted by the framed picture of you two in middle school, pimply and greasy but somehow still adorable.

you pray to god that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much with him as you pull on a pair of sweats you find in his closet. there’s a glass of water and a bottle of pills next to you and you know who left it there for you. you text him asking if he’s awake, you can’t wait to see him, can’t wait to confirm if you dreamt your conversation in the kitchen. rafe knocks at his door before entering and you’re still sat up on his bed, he still can't get used to the sight. he’s wearing a plain white shirt and sweats, his chain peeking under the collar and you think he might be the hottest man alive. he sits down across you on his desk chair swiveling it to face you, adjusting his hips as he does it. you might just pass out.

“i didn’t do anything too embarrassing right?” you ask while trying to ignore how good he looks. rafe looks up at you with a grimace and you groan.

“you really wanna know?” he asks with a glimmer in his eyes and you massage your temples in anticipation for the oncoming headache.

“oh god…kill me now.” rafe laughs at your expression, your eyes are closed and he can’t help but appreciate how you drown in his clothes. that coupled with you sleeping in his bed makes his hands itch to take a picture. he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be this fortunate again.

“i’m messing with you, you were pretty sweet actually, makes me kinda miss it now.” your pretty eyes snap open to meet his and you grown at the vague comment. sweet could mean a lot of things and most of them would be embarrassing.

“fuck off, you gotta give me more than that rafey, im going crazy.”

“how much do you remember?” he’s giving you an out, one that you won’t take. rafe holds his breath, there’s no going back from your answer.

“i remember getting out of the car after we left the party and then it’s kinda fuzzy.” he breathes out in relief, nodding at your words and blushing at the realization that you were actually owning up to the conversation. he can’t meet your eyes for a few seconds as he responds.

“okay so you insisted on sleeping in my room, you actually kicked me out.” he said and you winced, forcing his gaze to yours.

“sorry-“ you start but he waves you off.

“something about you always sleep better there, but i made sure you washed your face and stuff before sleeping.” you already feel hot from embarrassment but this can’t be the worst of it, you’d told this to rafe sober.

“i can tell you’re holding back.” rafe should realize that you know him as well as he knows you. you’re too observant for your own good.

“fine okay, you may have been repeatedly telling me i’m pretty.”

“yeah okay so i’ll see you in a week.” he couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. you got off his bed to leave, far too embarrassed to hear the rest, but he caught your wrist from where he sat near the door. he looked good looking up at you, you could get used to the angle.

“hey come on, i didn’t finish, i'm the one who started it for what it’s worth.” the hand around your wrist smoothly drifted to your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. you start to think crazy things like why was he was smooth? how many girls had he-rafe short circuits your brain as he brings your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your ring finger. you like to think it’s an accident for your sanity, it’s not.

“really?” your voice comes out small, nearly a squeak. you hardly notice it because you’re so entranced with his actions, by how small your hand feels and looks in his, how large his fingers are and the cold press of his signet ring against you. all the embarrassment flushed out of your system by a thrumming of need, of adoration, of-

“uh huh you look pretty right now too.” your gaze snaps to his, narrowing at his words, rafe hasn’t stopped smiling since he’s seen you today. how can he? he’s finally getting everything he’s ever wanted. you look so stunned by his words, mouth slightly agape and he’s relishing in the fact that for the first time in your lives he has the upper hand. he lightly tugs you closer by your hands and there’s zero resistance in your steps, you think you might be under a spell. it’s a miracle you can even respond.

“i definitely do not, i'm a hungover hot mess.” you know you look bad, you’re not fishing for compliments. you’re pretty sure you still have mascara smudged under your eyes and your hair is a whole other entity. but rafe doesn’t see any of that, he sees the girl he fell in love.

“nah you’re the prettiest girl i know.” he’s practically grinning up at you and the blue in his eyes is just right. he’s not lying to you and there’s a thick haze of feelings and unspoken words between you two. you know it’ll take a few words to change everything forever, the thought scares you, and you can’t handle the label you know you’re avoiding. the word that perfectly encapsulates what you already should’ve known for twenty years.

“can i shower and then maybe i’ll agree with you?” rafe lets you pull back, he knows he has you, and you know you have him. you just need a bit of space to catch your breath. he imagines these feelings sprouting up after so long can be overwhelming, they’re still overwhelming for him but he’s gotten used to relinquishing any rational thought when it comes to you. you just need time to get used to it too. you return to the guest room and hop in the shower. rafe put a set of his clothes next to yours and you don't even hesitate, they feel comfier on your skin and they smell like him, you wear his clothes and dry your hair before seeking him out. you feel more like a human, the sins of last night washed off you, and now you can finally give in.

you lean against his doorframe, his eyes already on you, as you say, “you’re gonna make me say it first aren’t you?”

a/n: i was geeking writing this (don’t hate me for the cliffhanger)

taglist: @clar2aa @ggraycelynn @rafestoothbrush @woweewoowa @mattyskies @always4tuesdayss @ashy-kit @chalahyung01 @rafeysslut @beabogsims @someoneisreading @rlalliehayes @artbymin @pogueprincesa @crvcified-kinx @ltristessedureratoujours @lilithblackkk @pluviophilis

[throatgoat4u]

late on the first day

word count: 0.6k

summary: it’s the first day of senior year, and dotty's already running late. of all classes, it had to be for your favorite class—art. just when you think things can’t get any worse... they do.

warnings: none :)

a/n: i lowkey already made this a like a month and a half ago but like............ yeah.... also this won the popular vote on what au i should release for next and so yeah. idk why i never put the intro to this au out but oh well. also, the reader's name will be dotty. also, the taglist is not official and is just a taglist of people who commented/reblogged the moodboards i had created so yeah! enjoy!

toodles sluts :)

you sprinted up the stairs, heart pounding as you weaved your way to the 2½ floor where the art wing was tucked away. there was no way you could be late—not on the first day of senior year, and definitely not to your favorite class. art had always been your escape. ever since you were little, you’d been an artist at heart, constantly sketching, coloring outside the lines (literally), experimenting with oil pastels, acrylics, and your personal favorite—watercolors.

but being the “art kid” had its downsides. while other girls were out at parties, shopping sprees, or obsessing over boys, you were lost in your sketchbook, shading imaginary worlds. it didn’t take long for people to notice how different you were. the teasing started small but grew sharper over the years, each comment isolating you a little more. by the time middle school ended, you were already used to being alone.

losing your best friend when she moved to another state only solidified it. since then, solitude had become your constant companion. but art? art was still yours. and that was why you couldn’t be late today. not when it was the one place you actually belonged.

you slipped into the classroom just as the bell rang, heart still racing from the mad dash up the stairs. scanning the seating chart at the front, you were relieved to find your assigned seat in the back corner, far from prying eyes. but that relief evaporated the moment you saw who you’d be sitting next to.

christopher sturniolo.

your blood ran cold. of course, it had to be him. chris wasn’t just popular—he was the most popular guy in school. every girl wanted him, and every guy either wanted to be him or be his best friend. there was no in-between. it didn’t help that he was the star of the hockey team, the golden boy who had secured a spot on varsity as a freshman and led the team to state championships every year since. he had it all: the looks, the talent, and, of course, the girl.

eva—the captain of the cheer team and the only girl who could possibly match his popularity. together, they were the school’s golden couple, envied and admired by everyone. chris was untouchable, living in a world completely separate from yours. he didn’t know you existed, and you were pretty sure he never would.

but you had noticed him.

in middle school, you had the biggest, most ridiculous crush on him. it started in sixth grade when he held the door open for you that one time, and it didn’t fade until the end of eighth grade. you were completely obsessed with chris sturniolo. you had filled an entire sketchbook front to back with drawings of him—his smile, his eyes, even the two of you together in scenes that only existed in your imagination. you remembered sketching his face more times than you could count, lost in a fantasy where he actually knew who you were.

but to him, you were nobody. just another face in the crowded hallways. he didn’t even know you well enough to recognize you as the girl who ate lunch in the bathroom or hid under the bleachers—just like everyone else did.

you tried everything to get over him that summer, finally deciding to write him a love letter, just like laura jean in to all the boys i’ve loved before. you poured your heart out in perfect penmanship, sealed it in a beautifully customized envelope with the prettiest wax seal you could find, and tucked it away in your love letter box, where it would stay forever, unread and forgotten.

or at least, that was the plan. but now, sitting next to chris for an entire the entire year? yeah, this was going to be a problem

taglist: @freshloveee. @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan. @heart-sdiary. @sturnshood

[is-that-your-true-face]

Aww I love this so much, thank you! You even did what I ran out of steam to do and added his helmet back to the scene! Bless. 🙏❤️

Writing isn't my forte but, if I may, I think I can add just a little to that ending from Skull Kid's and Tatl's perspective.

-

Skull Kid noticed Tatl's wings stopped fluttering as soon as Link finished humming, if only for a brief moment, but he didn't think anything of it as he got up and began to recite the melody.

He couldn't work out why Link wanted to teach him a new song now. He should be doing something to help instead of playing music. But this was the Lost Woods. The Lost Woods in a more dangerous and hostile state than Skull Kid had ever known it could be. There was nobody who could help them here. And Link had grown. Skull Kid was too small be able to carry him, even if the Hylian could survive long enough to be reach help.

Skull Kid could do nothing. Making mischief and playing music was all he was ever good for. Immature. Selfish. Useless.

He had begged Link to teach him a song last time. Selfish.

Not again. Not for this. This time, it was his turn to grant Link's wish. And he would not deny his friend.

He would not be useless again.

As he played, he could see Link's remaining eye watching him from behind once-golden hair now stained and darkened. That kind, gentle smile had returned to his face and he seemed to relax and breathed deeper in the soft breeze. Skull Kid couldn't help but smile back as he continued to play.

The draft blew Link's hair across his half-closed eye, hiding it from view. The child took that as an opportunity to close his own eyes and concentrate on the tune to play it as perfectly as he was able. He had been playing the other song too quickly. He would get this one right.

The wind stopped not long after he finished playing and he looked back up, searching for that blue eye that seemed brighter than he remembered it being. All he could see now was a slit of lifeless sky.

He started forward but Tatl beat him to it. She flitted to Link's side, moving frantically like she was looking for something from the now still form.

Skull Kid ventured to speak. ". . . What is it?"

She rested onto Link's shoulder. Her usually loud and blunt voice now so cracked and quiet that Skull Kid strained to hear it.

"It- it 'n't work. . . It didn't work, Link."

Skull Kid could not bring himself to ask what she meant. But he knew what it did not mean. He picked up the helmet he had dropped earlier and set it in Link's lap as Tatl settled against the Hylian's cheek in what Skull Kid knew was her attempt at a hug.

He stepped to Link's other side and joined her. His arms were only long enough to comfortably wrap around Link's head but he hoped it was enough for his old friend that had helped him so many times.

He was too late to return the helmet. But, perhaps, he could protect Link from the darkness that had settled around them. The child shook with tears he could not shed as he held Link's head tighter to his heart.

The breeze slowly returned, stronger this time as it blew in from behind the stone Link rested against. The current that came through the hole in the stone somehow felt warmer than the rest as it brushed his face and enveloped him like an embrace of its own.

The wind continued to blow through the stone's opening in a pattern eerily reminiscent of Link's final gift.

It was soothing.

-

Well that came out about three times longer than I expected, but I hope it's a worthy addition!

Also a few notes people might like:

I can't recall if Skull Kid ever saw what Song of Healing does, but Tatl spent a whole game with Link, so she would recognize it.

MajorLink propped Link again a TP howling stone, not an OoT gossip stone. The gossip stones lack the hole in the middle.

Song of Healing is the first song Hero's Shade ever teaches TP Link (I like to think he was attempting to heal TP Link of his wolf form). TP Link gets that song at Death Mountain instead of in a forest, but, I mean, MajorLink put it right there in epi 1 for the taking.

Also thank you to everybody for your wonderful comments and tags! I'm so glad I was about to make something you enjoy. 🙏

"Can it be your favorite song?" A song that means a lot to you: > Song of Time > Song of Healing

A callback to the scene from episode 1, when Link chose to teach him Song of Time over Song of Healing.

Very much looking forward to seeing what MajorLink and his team actually do for this scene. ❤️

[kisskisstine]

Once Upon a Time in Fairywood - Chapter 3

3 - Peri, fairy godparent! Unemployed

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4 (coming soon)

Fanfic Summary: Once Upon a Time in Fairywood, FOPANW fanfic featuring the pop idol and actress Goldie Goldenglow and Peri (the unemployed), featuring Irep (super employed), as they run away from the Fairywood award festivities and explore the city altogether!

Chapter 3 Summary: Peri, just having lost Dev as a godkid, bums his parents home unemployed and regretful of his first time being a fairy godparent and failing terribly. His parents, Wanda & Cosmo gets him a surprise retreat to help him out of his rut!

--

The lazy afternoon sun in Fairy World creeped gently through the windows of the Cosma-Fairywinkle household’s starry-pink wallpaper, whimsical decor, and onto the sleepy eyes of Peri Cosma-Fairywinkle, lying on his parent’s couch wrapped in a knitted throw blanket that had stitchings of nickels sewn into it.

He just woke up from a nap dream… lots of flashing light… there was a blonde girl?  Butterflies? Whatever dreams are dreams.

He shrugged it off, picked up the TV remote and mindlessly flicked through TV channels with empty bowls of cereal sitting on the floor beneath him. His purple hair, usually pristine, was unkempt and ruffled wearing the same pajamas he slept in the night before. It’s been days since he lost his job as a fairy godparent to Dev Dimmadome, the spoiled rich, red-headed brat who upended Fairy World world just for his dad’s attention (and still didn’t get it)! Sure, the kid almost got him to explode from magical backup, but it wasn’t all Dev’s fault was it? He was a lonely kid after all. Peri granted his wishes, right? He did his job, didn’t he? That’s all he was supposed to do! Either way, it’s over, right? It’s over. Peri should be happy. But lying there flicking through Fairywood Awards commercials, there was something about it that just didn’t sit right with Peri. At first, he was glad to be rid of Dev. Riding off into the sunset with Hazel, Antony, Jasmine, Winn and his parents– free of that little brat! But as time went on, that small uncomfortable feeling turned into a rotten churning at his core, that no amount of cereal or random daytime TV show can cure. Ah, but maybe TV could cure me, he thought as he progressed to flicking through channels in pure apathy.

“Peri, son? Are you still on the couch?” Wanda, Peri’s pink-haired mother entered the house, carrying a couple bags of groceries of mostly sweets. She layed out the sweets on the coffee table in front of Peri. Her husband Cosmo, a green-haired man in a green bowling shirt and slacks, and her godkid Hazel, a young 10-year old girl in a striped pink and blue shirt followed closely behind her, her purple backpack on, having just returned home from school.

“Son! We got chocolates for you!” Cosmo exclaimed. “Well… your mother got them for you.”

“Yeah but we also got carrot sticks too!” Hazel exclaimed running up to Peri on the couch and offered him a carrot stick from a plastic pouch. He took it meekly and thanked her. Hazel sighed, sat on the couch with him, took the remote to put the volume down as more commercials about the Fairywood awards rolled, and rested her small hand on his shoulder. “Sorry Peri, I haven’t seen Dev since Fairy World. He hasn’t returned to school. I don’t know–”

“Haha! Dev?! Who cares about him? I obviously don’t, hahaha!” Peri exclaimed and continued to laugh frantically. “Look! I’m doing absolutely fine! I didn’t just screw up my first godkid by completely ignoring his real feelings and not addressing his clear need for parental love at all! Ahaha! I gave him all he wished for, right?! That’s what I was suppose to do, right? I did great! Ahahaha!” 

Peri continued to laugh nervously, as Wanda, Cosmo and Hazel were taken aback in shock.

“Sweetie pie,” Wanda interjected cautiously. “We love you and we know you did your best. Your father and I were thinking that maybe it’s best that you take a vacation from this all.”

“Wait– you’re not kicking me out are you?” Peri asked.

“I mean, technically we are but–,” Cosmo answered with a smile, putting all the empty bowls of cereal together, only to dropped them all as Peri shrieked in the idea of getting kicked out!

“Cosmo!,” Wanda interjected after her husband. “No no, we just think you had a real doozy of a godkid as your first time godparenting and you need some time to relax.”

“Yeah! And maybe get your mind off Dev for a bit and take care of yourself!”, Hazel stated nervously but with an assuring smile.

“I’m already relaxed! And I don’t think of Dev at all! Nope! Not one thought of it!” Peri exclaimed frantically again, as Hazel, Wanda, and Cosmo rolled their eyes at him, clearly judging him in his pajamas from the morning, surrounded by empty cereal bowls, and just having woken up from napping in front of the TV until the afternoon. A silence filled the air, until Peri couldn’t keep pretending anymore. “Fine… maybe you’re all right. I do need to get some air maybe…”

“It’s be great for you, son! Your mother and I already booked an amazing place for you!” Cosmo exclaimed pulling out his wand, poofed Peri into a full vacation outfit, Hawaiian button-up with rolled up sleeves under his usual suspenders and linen trousers, with boat shoes. The the cereal bowls clutter was also poofed away, giving room for Cosmo to dump Peri’s luggage in place. “It’s that island place we took you when we were on retirement when you were still our liiiiittle Poofy-Poofy!”  

“Wanda and Cosmo we’re telling me all about it! It’s all these floating islands in the sky and magical waterfalls and really cool famous fairies!,” Hazel exclaimed excitedly. “Ehehe! It’s so cool! You’ll relax there for sure!”

“Yes! The Fairywood Hotel Resort!” Wanda exclaimed, and then pulled Peri in closer to whisper to him directly. “Between you and me, the owner owes your grandfather and I BIG time. If you need any room upgrades, just mention you’re a Fairywinkle and–”

“Ok ok!” Peri gently pushed his mother at a reasonable talking distance. “Sheesh. I’ll go I’ll go! I really do appreciate all this, mom and dad… but NO, I am not using any of YOU or grandpa’s mafia stuff to bully staff for room upgrades!” speaking directly at his mother, Wanda.

“Hurtful.” Wanda teared up and comments under her breath. “But we’re good mafia… (;-; )”

“Wait… Wanda, what mafia?” Hazel questioned.

“Uhh… this might take some time to explain.” Wanda sweatdropped.

“Alright! See you when you’re feeling better son! We love you!” Cosmo interjected with his wand ready and before Peri can put in another word, he and his luggage are poofed out of the house.

--

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4 (coming soon)

[was-that-a-pun]

Fleshin out more background characters in my AU fic for later chapters like I have with Medic and Thomas and a recent cut content video gave me ideas for Scout the boogie bot and Izzy the bobby bearhug

Scout I've decided was an older kid in Playcare and was a close friend with Matthew before he was 'chosen'. They were similar ages, though Scout had been there longer and had lost her parents in a car accident she wasn't part of. It gave her a slightly better idea of what he was going through than most other kids did and tended to play backup to his leader role.

Neither ran into Kevin much just by chance, the little they did see of him he seemed fine to them although Matthew caught some other kids setting him up to get in trouble once and put a stop to it.

After Matthew was taken Izzy arrived, probably younger than Jack when she got there, and instantly clung to Scout as big sister. Scout returned in kind and goes out of her way to care for and dote on her.

Scout though was also 'chosen' a little more than a year after Matthew and Kevin were, Izzy had a hard time in Playcare for the few months before she was as 'chosen' as well because she couldn't connect with anyone else the same way.

Scout and Izzy are dumped into the workyard/general population at the same time and Izzy does not handle things well. Scout would know that sobbing anywhere and scrambles to comfort her and convince her of who she is and that Izzy isn't alone. Doey overhears and oh shit this is one of my friends.

They all end up in trouble/punished because Izzy can't calm down enough to work, Scout wont leave her side, and Doey wont let the guards touch either one of them. But afterwards it makes things a little easier because Matthew knows he can trust scout, which means Jack and Kevin learn to trust her and she becomes one of the main people he talk to about the whole confusing experience of being three kids turned into one.

Cut content lines under the readmore that inspired me

Scout: Izzy, have you done what I asked you to? Gathered all your things?

Izzy: Oh, yeah! I’ve got my journal and my crayons and my dollys and my-

Scout: Good. Good I just wanted to make sure

Izzy: You. Y-you sound sad -

Scout: No! No. Just thinking…

Izzy: Thinking about what?

Scout: About everything to come, about our part in it.

Izzy: Oh...okay. Are we still gonna play our game later? Y-you promised we would-

Scout: *chuckles* I remember kiddo, and a good scout knows to keep her promises.

Izzy: Yes!

Scout: But finish up your tasks first please! Then my time is all yours.

Izzy: Okay! I’ll get them done quick! Super quick! You wont even see me doing them!

Scout: That better mean they’re actually getting done though *sigh*

[shatcey]

Lost in the lustful elixir (Fun with Ally)

Even so the event is have a very obvious topic and content… I won't talk about it. Sorry, not sorry. Maybe a bit.

First...

I strongly disagree with this…

And it's the same in the premium ending.

Kate always defended Ally if someone said that he was incapable of love. She always believed in him. She never doubted. And here she simply agreed. It's pretty weird. Did she start doubting after she dated him for a while? Considering how much he has invested in this relationship and how much he has changed… it's pretty sad.

Actually, I think we have perfect taste. Thank you very much!

The next part will be better…

Ally and Oggy (let's try a new nickname for once) playing kids again…

You know better than anyone that Oggy knows how to relax. You're drinking with him!

Ally doesn't seem happy about it. Could it be… he is really afraid of Vivi? If so, then this is the first father-figure that boys are truly afraid of. The boys were constantly teasing Sirius (IkeRev). I really hate it when they call him old. HE'S NOT OLD!!! Abel (IkeVamp) can't control any of the boys, they literally do whatever they want, the same with Vlad. Sari (IkePri) is scary, but only Bell is afraid of him. Nobu (IkeSen) is scary too, but he's the boss, and they respect him. So it's different. I know that Vivi is also the boss. But he will always be "daddy" to me. He's too cute…

Awwwwwww… Of course, Daddy!!

Or he's not afraid, but… as Ally himself said…

"I'm a good boy… Don't scold me." (squeak) He's so cute!

And, of course, Ally couldn't just let it go… so there was a little revenge later…

Children!

Ciele (@judesmoonbeauty) what the hell is Jude's girl doing here?

And more than that… she's flirting with Roger.

And according to his words in the epilogue… she had been chasing him for a while…

This girl knows what she wants

It can't be the same Isla, right?

So… This ANOTHER Isla is…

I totally agree with that. I think you look much better…

I mentioned this then talk about the Secret ending… she really said "eat him". Let's start from the beginning.

Kate noticed the devouring stares of people directed at Alfons…

Yes, she's selfish, and I totally understand that, who would agree to share this guy with anyone else (I'm still considering Elbert and somtimes Vivi… not now girl!), but the most she could think about was protecting him. Despite the fact she was jealous… her first priority was his well-being.

So she was very worried. And… my logic in the SE is probably correct. That's one of the reasons he did what he did.

And in the dramatic ending, he really offered…

Right… the meaning is completely different if you know the context.

And it's just a challenge to the imagination…

So… she's standing on her knees… okay… his leg is in there somewhere… but… her "bud" is closer to the toe of his shoe, not the heel… So, how did he do that??? He lifted his foot… to her stomach or something?

In the SE there were words that he used his toes… but in the process… you know, she works with… him… and at the same time, he somehow manages to… move his foot. One wrong move, and she literally eats him. WTF? Okay… Maybe I'm exaggerating…

It was a lot of fun! I laughed so hard I cried. I hope you enjoyed it too.

dividers by @.sweetmelodygraphics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[vortship]

“Look, I get it, you humans see the little orphan girl thing and think, this is what you want but I’m… I-”

Where could she even begin?

[xxnashiraxx]

Reblogging today and @pinkberrytea has decided to honor each line of my fic so guess what ME TOO 💕

If Mavka was made to be loved, then Ofelia was made to love.

Literally ARE YOU JOKING. This is so pretty and RAW I'M STILL REELIN'

Vanilla and licorice

You literally just remember everything. I stg.

Velvety, lyrical cadence of her voice

This is just BEAUTIFUL oh my god. How do I PROCESS

the way her corset hugs the curve of her waist so very prettily, and the way her rounded, ample hips spill off it, revealing a thin strip of smooth golden skin

HOLY CRAP. I. Still cannot get over this whole passage- the way you describe her just has me feral, you've done such an insane job and I can literally visualize this so easily 😭

Sitting up suddenly and turning to face Ofelia with fingers curled tautly into fists stop her knees, the freckles on her nose fading under the now brightening color painted over them.

I love love love how this is worded 😭 It's so pretty!!

How long has it been since she’s been touched with such care? With such love? Has she ever been touched like this at all? No, perhaps not. Not like this—never so warmly, never so tenderly.

🥺 I just wanna hug her

“I can’t resist a cute lass with pretty hair,”

Giggling and kicking my feet, they're so cute 😊

Ofelia thinks, sympathetic discomfort tying a knot in her stomach as she fights the urge to squeeze the other’s rosy cheeks. Although endearing, she can’t help but feel it’s also somewhat sad; it prompts a wave of protective instinct to ripple through her, bringing back long forgotten phantoms, faded memories of the little girl she once was—all she had, all she lost.

This is so freaking sad I stg 💔 They both had some terrible upbringings, and I'm so glad you touched on Ofelia's protectiveness- she is, fiercely, this is very good characterization 😭💕

I’m searching for a little corner in the Heavens, where I can take the one I love I’m searching for a little corner in the Heavens, where we can hide, you and I

Though I didn't recognize it at first because it's in English, when you told me I cried fr. It's in the fic for a reason, Rinconcito En El Cielo is a banger and it's my favorite Ramon Aayla song 🥺💖 Ily

pulling out from the pouch an octagonal wooden tub with wire loops on its side, holding a wand. Placing her thumb under the lid, she thus pops it open, revealing the substance held within—kohl.

I am such a sucker for make-up scenes like this, especially the intimacy of them- this is so sweet and cute and very very on brand for her and I love it so much 😭 Also to think Mav probably never got the chance to have a real friendship as a kid or at least not a genuine one makes me so sad- she's healing now 💕

You’re so pretty I feel like I’m not worthy of touching you. You’re so kind I feel like I’m not worthy of looking at you. You’re so warm I feel like I’m but a withering sunflower, and you, the Sun itself.

I love that you've likened Ofelia to the sun, I try to use that imagery and you've just hit that nail on the head 🥺 Mav's internal dialogue makes me so sad though, poor girl 💔 She's 100% worthy 😭

Raspberries and white tea

HEHEHEHHEEEE I can't believe we both thought of raspberries!! I'm still!!! It's so crazy we managed to keep these strictly a secret from each other, and then activated our neurons on the same thing for the kiss. Twins.

Is she entitled to such bliss? Is a love this simple, this easy, a blessing that is within her reach?

It's so sad they aren't able to meet in game like for real. These lines just break my damn heart.

No; not her, not in this universe, not in this timeline. But maybe—just maybe—a different shade of her, somewhere else, far, far away; maybe in a different world, a different dimension, there is a version of Mavka who gets to meet Ofelia Montez, who gets to listen to her sing, dance with her, make love to her—who gets to be happy by her side. Maybe this version of Mavka also shares her first kiss with the bard during a lazy summer evening; a cherry lip paint-flavored kiss, salty and bittersweet, with hearty notes of sweat and sin. Maybe. But for now, their love and their lives shall remain running in parallel, like unfulfilled promises, ghosts of one another—until they next meet.

AGAIN. FR? This CLOSE? RAW. HURT. PAIN. It's so beautiful but so sad 😭 I love them sm and I actually 💔

THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL BERRY MY LOVE 💕 I can't thank you enough for participating in this with me, and for suggesting it in the first place! This was so fun to do, I loved getting to write your Mavka 💕 And you wrote Ofelia so well 🥺 I enjoyed every minute, cried quite a bit, and have reread so many times over these last few days 💗 This is amazing and we will definitely have to do this again!!! Thank you again, my love 🥺🫂

aromatic 💋

If Mavka was made to be loved, then Ofelia was made to love.

Sugar & spice & all things nice; that's what good girls are made of. When a night of pampering is on offer, Mavka is not about to let the opportunity slide—she is more than happy to indulge Ofelia, regardless of what the bard may have in mind.

Named F!Durge (Ofelia) x Named F!Durge (Mavka)

w/c: 2.4k words . spotify playlist . +18 only . dividers

a/n: happy belated valentine's day! this fic was written for the day #2 prompt of ockissweek25! the lovely ofelia belongs to my dear wife @xxnashiraxx, and mav is mine, of course. this is my first time writing for both, so i'm super excited. i’d like to thank the wonderful @bhaal-battle-beer-bard for her description of mav’s signature scent, which i’ve partly based this piece on. thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

( companion piece here )

tags: fluff & angst; heated kissing; wlw

Vanilla and licorice. Warm, peppery, comforting—reminiscent of her innocent sensuality, Ofelia’s scent pulls in those unsuspecting souls droning around her, lures them with unassuming, saccharine mellowness, only to then ensnare each in a loving embrace; it bathes them in sunshine, enshrouds their weary minds in soothing mist. Upon following the bard inside her tent, Mavka’s slight body is immediately engulfed by the inebriating fragrance’s tingling heat—she feels at ease; she feels safe. 

“Er, pardon the intrusion,” the scrawny tiefling mouths quietly, chin dipping down and tail swishing nervously as she inspects her surroundings with large, watery eyes. Ofelia isn’t looking at her—she’s kneeling beside her bedroll while rummaging through a satchel, whose contents make distinctive clicking sounds whenever the items within roll and bump against each other. Though she’s aware Mavka can’t quite see it, the corners of the bard’s rouged lips instinctively curl into an encouraging smile, her chestnut irises twinkling ever so softly.

“Shush, you. Don’t just stand there. Have a seat!” she says, the already velvety, lyrical cadence of her voice canting with a cheerful lilt. Mavka does as told, slowly lowering herself to the ground and sitting awkwardly with her knees bent and pressed against her chest, both arms encircling them, seemingly trying to occupy the least amount of space possible. As she waits, the tiefling watches her companion with a guarded yet captivated expression, entranced by the way her gorgeous raven hair glistens in the candlelight, draping over her shoulders and exposing the slim column of her neck; the way her corset hugs the curve of her waist so very prettily, and the way her rounded, ample hips spill off it, revealing a thin strip of smooth golden skin. By the Gods, Ofelia is stunning—ethereal even, like an otherworldly being—yet striking though her beauty may be, it’s not intimidating; quite the opposite, never before had Mavka ever felt this relaxed around anyone, not really. Squeamish, silly little Mavka for once had found another whose love she didn’t feel like she had to earn—whose love was a given, its existence as certain and as natural as the inevitability of death. 

If Mavka was made to be loved, then Ofelia was made to love.

“C’mon, sit with your back to me,” Ofelia says, beaming with almost childish glee, straight white teeth exposed and eager eyes reflecting the gentle sway of the campfire’s flames. They are both resting on top of a fallen tree trunk, Mavka with her head on Ofelia’s lap, the bard’s elegant fingers delicately carding through the other’s pale pink locks. A guitar sits unplayed beside them—the plan was for Ofelia to serenade Mavka before they went to sleep, but the conversation had quickly steered into an entirely different direction as soon as she’d noticed the tiefling had her hair down.

“N—No, that’s alright…” Mavka blushes, a faint red glow blooming beneath the ashen skin of her cheeks and ears. Ofelia’s grin widens for a moment, gradually softening into a half-smile, and she leans back slightly, shoulders squared and features alight with hardly concealed playfulness.

“Oh? Well, I get it. I guess you don’t trust me enough?” she retorts, moving her eyes away from Mavka’s while still lovingly stroking the tiefling’s hair, voice pitching down in faux disappointment. The bait works like a charm—Mavka takes it with nigh impressive assiduity, sitting up suddenly and turning to face Ofelia with fingers curled tautly into fists atop her knees, the freckles on her nose fading under the now brightening color painted over them.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” The words come out in a jumble, almost bursting from her lips as she flusteredly tries to gather her thoughts. “What I meant was—I…” Mavka stutters, drawing in a sharp breath, her tail thumping loudly onto the tree trunk’s bark. “I trust you. Of course I trust you,” she mutters, staring down at her feet, and Ofelia isn’t sure whether to feel guilty or amused; it’s really hard not to mess around with a gullible girl such as she, after all, not when her reactions are this adorable.

“I know, sweetness.” Ofelia chuckles, holding one of Mavka’s hands in hers and squeezing it reassuringly. “So let me take care of you, okay? C’mon.” She lets go briefly only to then lightly pat her own legs, motioning with her head towards a spot on the ground right below them. After glancing back and forth between the ground and her companion, Mavka at last acquiesces, reluctantly dragging herself out of the tree trunk before kneeling with her back turned to the bard, who loses no time burying all ten fingers between the tiefling’s ivory horns. Their soft pads run down her scalp, smoothing the fine, silken tresses covering it, and Mavka lets out a small sigh, feeling pleasurable tingles tickling the base of her neck; as she involuntarily closes her eyes, relishing the sensation, her mind starts to wander. How long has it been since she’s been touched with such care? With such love? Has she ever been touched like this at all? No, perhaps not. Not like this—never so warmly, never so tenderly. 

“I’ve been waiting to get my hands on your hair since I first saw you, you know?” The bard’s melodious voice brings Mavka back from her daze, but she remains with her eyes closed, yet listening attentively to every word. “I can’t resist a cute lass with pretty hair,” Ofelia teases, watching proudly as the pointed tips of Mavka’s ears start burning bright red again; taking three sections of hair, she then begins braiding them leisurely, purposefully letting her manicured nails gently graze the sensitive skin underneath, noticing how each brush of her skilled digits causes it to break out in goosebumps.

“This feels nice…” Mavka says, undeniable contentedness lacing the quiet tone with which she speaks. Hearing the other moving behind her, seemingly reaching for something, she almost lets her curiosity get the best of her—however, just as she’s about to look over her shoulder, she feels something lightweight being pushed into her hair; then again, and again. Though curious as to what Ofelia may be doing, she decides to be patient, and the two spend the next few minutes in silent bliss, simply enjoying each other’s company.

That until—

“Oh, I need to show you this. Let’s go back to my tent, I have a mirror!”

“Here it is!” The bard exclaims as she enthusiastically produces a hand mirror, instantly drawing the attention of Mavka’s curious eyes; she waits expectantly while Ofelia crawls to her, and once the space separating them has narrowed enough, the tiefling is finally able to peer at her likeness on the other side of the mirror’s glassy surface. “So? What do you think?” Ofelia asks, holding it up so Mavka can better see the braid swept around her neck and over her chest, which she now notices is adorned with small white flowers.

“I—I look… I look like a princess!” she blurts out, lilac irises sparkling and pale face flushing with naïve excitement. That’s just a simple braid though… Ofelia thinks, sympathetic discomfort tying a knot in her stomach as she fights the urge to squeeze the other’s rosy cheeks. Although endearing, she can’t help but feel it’s also somewhat sad; it prompts a wave of protective instinct to ripple through her, bringing back long forgotten phantoms, faded memories of the little girl she once was—all she had, all she lost.

I’m searching for a little corner in the Heavens, where I can take the one I love I’m searching for a little corner in the Heavens, where we can hide, you and I

“Hey—I have an idea. Just a moment!” Ofelia leaves Mavka’s side to yet again stick her arm in the satchel, only this time the object she is looking for is much larger, and therefore, easier to find: a small pouch, which she then brings back with her. “Have you ever had someone else do your makeup?” she asks while opening the pouch, running her fingers over the bits and bobs shuffling around inside it, carefully considering her options.

“Makeup?” Mavka repeats the term a bit stupidly, still a little spaced-out after being shown her reflection. However, before she can formulate an answer, Ofelia finally makes her decision, pulling out from the pouch an octagonal wooden tub with wire loops on its side, holding a wand. Placing her thumb under the lid, she thus pops it open, revealing the substance held within—kohl. 

“C’mon, close your eyes for me!” Ofelia says, taking the wand—an applicator—and pushing it inside the tube. Mavka silently complies, despite her apprehensiveness; once she does, the bard presses the now kohl-covered wand to the arch of her right eyelid and starts gently applying the black powder along the tiefling’s lash line, lightly dabbing the edges with the tips of her fingers to smudge it some. “Do you have any idea how pretty you are? You look like a doll,” she hums absentmindedly after a while, still focused on her task, but letting her gaze wander a little, flickering it over Mavka’s freckled nose, her plump pink lips, the small dimples on the corners of her mouth. It occurs to her that this is the first time she’s seen them up close.

“N—No, not at all.” Feeling Ofelia’s cool breath on her skin as she switches over to her left eye, Mavka knits her brows tightly, that all too familiar rush of blood prickling her ears the instant she becomes aware of the distance, or lack thereof, between them. “You’re the one who’s pretty, really. The prettiest I’ve ever seen,” she utters the words before they can be swallowed, the blood now spreading to her cheekbones and nose bridge. She’s at least grateful she’s caught herself in time not to voice the thoughts still threatening to spill from the recesses of her brain onto her tongue—You’re so pretty I feel like I’m not worthy of touching you. You’re so kind I feel like I’m not worthy of looking at you. You’re so warm I feel like I’m but a withering sunflower, and you, the Sun itself.

“Shush, silly. We can both be pretty.” Ofelia speaks with such gentleness that the intrusive thoughts are progressively silenced, one by one. Instead, Mavka tries to pay attention solely to the smooth glide of the wand over her delicate lids, to the shivers running up and down her body under the inviting heat irradiating from Ofelia’s hand; until she pulls it away, making the tiefling shudder from the loss. “There! All done. Now, let’s see…” When Mavka’s eyes flit back open, she sees Ofelia reaching for the pouch once more, digging through it for some time before grabbing a tiny pot, whose cap she promptly removes. “Lip paint!”

Inside the pot is a glossy cherry-colored paste with a waxy consistency, which Ofelia meticulously coats her fingers in, only to again approach Mavka, who unlike moments ago is acutely conscious of just how intimate this all feels. “Pucker up, sweetness,” the bard says, an order that is obeyed almost unconsciously as if Mavka’s muscles were moving on their own, her mind now trapped deep within the dark pools of the bard’s irises, unable to register anything but the amber flecks swimming around her pupils. 

“Can I touch you?” Ofelia asks, her voice somewhat sheepish as sudden shyness starts to also deepen the olive shade of her skin, giving it a ruddy undertone. In hindsight, she should have asked earlier, but touching someone’s eyes is one thing; touching their mouth is, well, different. Mavka nods timidly, and Ofelia nods back, clearing a lump in her throat. She breathes in slowly, taking in Mavka’s image, her face flushed, eyes wide and lips puckered—adorable. Then, after brushing her own hair to the side, she pushes the pad of one of her tinted digits against the other’s bottom lip, feeling it give in and dip easily under the pressure. So soft… she thinks, trying but failing to ignore the growing need blossoming in her chest—the persistent, nearly painful need to know what Mavka tastes like. Flowery like spring? Sweet like honey? Or maybe something unexpected, something that Ofelia never would have guessed; earthy like a rainy day, citrusy like lemonade. She wants to know—must know, even. 

“Can I kiss you?”

The question is whispered rather than spoken, and Mavka nods again, not thinking twice. Worried that if she waits any longer that will be enough time for them both to second guess themselves, Ofelia decides to cover Mavka’s mouth with hers there and then, cupping the tiefling’s warm cheek with the hand she had been using to apply the lip paint and resting the other on the small of her back. Raspberries and white tea—more fruity than she had imagined, not quite as floral, initially light and mellow, then surprisingly rich. Addictive.

“Hmng—‘Felia…” Mavka mewls, wrapping her arms around the bard’s neck, and in so doing, pushing their bodies flat together; she feels the generous swell of Ofelia’s bosom flush against her own, feels the softness of her curvy figure, feels the warmth of her supple skin. Their lips move in perfect harmony, sometimes with lingering wistfulness, sometimes with greed and hunger. Is she allowed to feel something so pure? Is she entitled to such bliss? Is a love this simple, this easy, a blessing that is within her reach? 

my heart’s an empty vase looking for roses looking for posies and pansies a little color

No; not her, not in this universe, not in this timeline. But maybe—just maybe—a different shade of her, somewhere else, far, far away; maybe in a different world, a different dimension, there is a version of Mavka who gets to meet Ofelia Montez, who gets to listen to her sing, dance with her, make love to her—who gets to be happy by her side. Maybe this version of Mavka also shares her first kiss with the bard during a lazy summer evening; a cherry lip paint-flavored kiss, salty and bittersweet, with hearty notes of sweat and sin. Maybe. But for now, their love and their lives shall remain running in parallel, like unfulfilled promises, ghosts of one another—until they next meet.

brighten up my world, won’t you brighten up my world won’t you let your little petals fall in my clear glass heart

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[from-here-from-me]

Congratulations to the cast and crew of "The Bear," for a record-breaking 23 Emmy nominations!

THE BEAR — Season 2

[tequiilasunriise]

When Steph and Cass get married they don’t take the last name Brown (Daddy Issues™️) or Cain (Daddy Issues Prime™️) or even Wayne (Steph absolutely REFUSES to become a Wayne nosirree), but a secret fourth thing (Gordan).

[nexus-nebulae]

me as a kid: i have all these problems

every adult around me: you're not old enough to know what's wrong with you, you're fine

me as an adult: i still have all these problems

my doctors after i finally got the opportunity to choose them myself: oh my fucking god why have you never gotten help for all these problems. you should have seen me 10 years ago

[les4lesbushfire]

Lesbian Clawdeen Wolf icons!

requested by anon! like or reblog if using/saving- thnx!

[daemon-in-my-head]

Based on my latest post I'm overjoyed that my moots (whether or not tumblr officially recognises them thx sideblog doing sideblog sht) and those who randonly stumble upon my shit are objectively some of the greatest people.

I love this weird corner I found myself in and the general mindset and views on things.

And I may be too scared nd socially awkward to approach anyone directly but be assured I'm on the sidelines rooting for folks in a very cutesy, very demure manner and y'all should feel loved.