#his real name is difficult to spell and he doesn't use it anyway

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Damn... MC's lessons are more difficult than I expected.

Deuce: *still memorizing the spell he had learned earlier*

Ace: Hey, Deuce. Give it a break.

Deuce: *frowns*

Epel: Hm? Who is that?

*Sees a tall, handsome guy with long white hair and a wolf's tail and ears*

Ace: Your relative, Jack?

Jack: Huh? No. I don't think I know him.

Epel: Ack! He's approaching us!

The guy: *stops in front of them* ...

The guy: *pulls out a piece of paper from his sleeves* *then reads what is written in there*

The guy: Hello, I am a friend of MC. Can you take me to them?

Ace, Deuce, Epel, and Jack: ...

Ace: Hey, do you think he's one of their husbands?

Jack: I wouldn't be surprised if that is the case.

Ace: Haha! Yes, yes! We'll take you to them!

MC: *in the middle of teaching second years*

MC: No, Kalim... Not anyone can eat the apple of truth...

Kalim: Why?

Jamil: Didn't you just hear them say that a single lie will cause you a painful death after eating that apple?

Kalim: Eh? It tastes like a normal apple to me.

MC: You sweet, summer child.

Azul: MC, can I-

MC: No. Unless you grow them yourselves.

Azul: *sigh*

Ace: *walking into the classroom, together with the others* Yo, teach!

MC: Hm? Yes?

Riddle: Ace, we're in the middle of the class. What are you first years doing here?

Deuce: You see, Housewarden Rosehearts-

Ace: We met one of your husbands.

MC: ...You mean one of the brothers? *pulls out the phone to check if they have any messages* *makes a confused expression*

MC: Who? I thought they all went to an amusement park with Grim.

Epel: It's not one of the brothers.

Jack: Yeah. He's a werewolf like me. I think?

MC: Huh?

Epel: Oh, yeah! He's with us!

Epel: Sir! MC is here!

*The guy walks in*

MC: ...

The guy: *walks up to them* *then hugs them*

MC: *blinks in confusion*

The guy: *speaks in a language no one could understand except those who have met him before*

MC: !!!

MC: Wh-

MC: White Wolf Of The Frost Flowers?

The guy: *chuckles* *nodding*

MC: Eh- How?? It hasn't been five hundred years since we gave you the gift.

The guy: I miss MC. *his tail wagging*

The second years and first years: ...

Leona: Great. A new one?

MC: ...

MC: White Wolf, how did you get here?

The guy: *speaks in his own language*

MC: Ah.

MC: A portal opened to your world and it led you here- WHAT?

Professor Crewel: ...

Professor Crewel: This is one, handsome wolf you've got.

MC: Professor, please not now.

Professor Trein: MC, you need to sort this out.

MC: I'm trying...

Crowley: *tries to talk to the White Wolf*

Crowley: You, big, big wolf?

MC: ...

MC: Headmage, he can understand our language.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: *clears throat* You should've said sooner. Anyway, *to the White Wolf* do you have a name?

The guy: *looks at MC* *says something to them*

MC: Oh. I see. He wants to be called "Frost".

Frost: *nods* *then smiles* Thank you.

Solomon: This is a problem.

Lucifer and the brothers: Yes.

Diavolo: What could the White Wolf Of The Frost Flowers want from MC?

Frost: *pulls another piece of paper from his sleeve*

Frost: I am here to form a contract with them.

Frost: I want to become their familiar.

MC: ...

MC: At least he doesn't want to take me anymore. Haha.

Solomon and the others: They are trying to ignore the real situation here...

[sissylittlefeather]

Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 2

A/N: Another chapter for Elvis and Dove! I'm really loving writing a happy couple 😂. Those of you who know me know I usually torture my characters for at least a decade before I let them be happy, but not this time! Also, just a quick note about the nickname: that is a real endearment in Mvskoke, but I spelled it phonetically instead of in the right alphabet. Anyway, I hope you guys love them!

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this gets a little sexy, erection, reference to masturbation, fingering, dry humping, orgasms, ejaculation, also racism and period-appropriate use of the word "Indian"

Word count: ~2.7k

He kisses her again as the sun rises on them. And he's right. This is only the beginning.

******

Elvis and Dove spend the next few weeks in a haze of young love. They have to be careful about where they go and when because his fans seem to always find them, but for the most part they make a way. They spend as much time together as possible and at the end of each night he kisses her in his car outside of the ladies boarding house she has a room in. Every kiss builds in intensity and they struggle to stop themselves from taking it further. His hands roam over her body, squeezing her hips and even venturing to her breasts. She kisses his neck and nibbles his earlobes and they both moan and whimper so much it sounds like they're in pain. And they are every time they have to stop.

Elvis is convinced she's the woman he wants for his first time, but still he wants to wait. He's not sure what exactly he's waiting for, but he knows it's too soon now.

Dove is dying to give herself to him but she lives in constant fear that the second she does he'll lose interest. So instead, she gently pushes his hands away and he moves them to a more acceptable place and tells her goodnight, breathing heavily and dreaming of the day he'll be able to touch her however he wants.

Every time she makes it to her room, she collapses on the bed, her body buzzing and pulsing on the edge of something she can't identify. Elvis is left in the drivers seat with a raging erection, trying to calm himself down before he has to get out of the car. Several times he rushes straight to his bedroom to lay on his bed and pump himself to a release, quietly moaning her name as he makes a mess on his hand. He's running out of self control, but he doesn't want to ruin what he has with Dove. She matters too much.

One night they're finding it particularly difficult to stop. They've said goodnight no less than four times, but they're still glued together, his hand slowly creeping up her thigh under her skirt, his dick so hard it hurts. She whimpers and backs away.

"Elvis, wait." He pulls his hand back and flexes it, groaning. "We have to stop."

His breath is hot against her as he tries to calm down. He kisses her shoulder and exhales deeply.

"I know, Dovey, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe we just... should?" Her heart skips when she says it. But she's started to wonder how much longer she can make him wait.

"No... no I want to wait until..." For the first time it dawns on him. He knows what he's waiting for. "You need to meet my parents."

"What?" The conversation took a turn she did not expect. In his mind, though, he can't do what he wants to do, ask her what he wants to ask her, until she's met his parents.

"You need to meet Mama and Daddy. Come to dinner tomorrow night."

"O-okay." The prospect is a daunting one for her. She's not sure what they expect of his girlfriends, but she's guessing it's not her. Hopefully, they're not too off-put by her background. "Elvis?"

He kisses her neck gently, trying not to start anything again, but desperate to feel her.

"Yes, Dovey?" She whimpers as he moves down to her collarbone.

"Is it gonna be a problem... that I'm... not white?" He backs up and looks at her sternly.

"No. My mama's people have Cherokee somewhere way back. But if it is, they'll hear from me about it." She nods nervously and he takes her face in his hands. "They'll love you. You have nothing to worry about."

He kisses her deeply and passionately and she presses her body against his. The heat comes back and before they know it they're both breathless and running their hands everywhere again.

"I need to get out of this car."

"Yes you do." He kisses her again.

"I really really do." More kissing.

"Mhmm." She pulls away from him slowly, peeling her body off of his, laughing softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow., Jumbee." She rubs her nose on his. He blinks and laughs.

"What did you call me?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. It's a term of endearment in my language. Like sweetie or honey. It's what my mom calls my dad. I'm sorry, I won't-"

"No, I love it." He nuzzles his nose on hers and then kisses her again.

Reluctantly, she pulls away and slides across the seat to the door, pushing it open to walk up to her front porch. Before she does, though, she leans down to the window.

"Goodnight, Jumbee." He smiles softly.

"G'night, Dovey." She turns and skips up to the front door and he watches. Then he leans his head back against the seat, touching himself gently and whimpering. This is definitely a night that he'll be sneaking into his room for some alone time.

******

The next night, Elvis pulls up to Graceland with Dove on his front seat. Up until now, she hasn't seen where he lives.

"Woah." Her mouth drops and he laughs.

"I forget how impressive it is if you've never seen it."

"This is beautiful. You didn't tell me you lived in a place like this." He can tell the house makes her nervous.

"We didn't always. This is new. Come on."

"Jumbee, I don't know." He turns to her on the front seat and puts his hand on her cheek.

"Dovey, baby, it's gonna be fine. You trust me?" She looks into his eyes and nods. He kisses her softly and then pushes his forehead into hers. "Come on."

He gets out of the car and runs around to the passenger side to let her out. She stands up out of the car and he puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside. In the foyer, she smiles awkwardly as he proudly introduces her to his parents.

"Mama, Daddy, this is Dove Morningstar."

"It's nice to meet you both." Gladys and Vernon smile and shake her hand genially. Gladys speaks first.

"Dove. That's an interesting name."

"Oh, it's actually a nickname. My real name is Eleanor, but they've called me Dove since I was a kid."

"Well, it's lovely."

"Thank you, ma'am." Vernon finally speaks up.

"And Morningstar. You're Indian?"

"Yes, sir. Seminole."

"Hmm." He grunts and Dove can't tell if he's disapproves or if he's just quiet. Elvis steps in.

"Dovey is a singer. You should hear her. She sings better than me." He puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close to him. Gladys smiles at the two of them, glad to see her boy so happy.

"I'd love to hear you sometime, honey. Maybe after dinner we can gather 'round the piano." Dove nods, smiling a little more naturally now. "Speaking of dinner, it's ready. Let's go sit."

Gladys turns and they follow her into the dining room. The rest of the evening passes in polite conversation. Elvis excitedly tells the story of how they met, leaving out all the kissing that happened on the rooftop. Dove answers questions about her family and her upbringing and listens attentively to the stories that the Presleys share. Overall, things go very well.

After dinner, they gather around the piano singing together. Gladys is indeed impressed by Dove's voice and her knowledge of gospel songs. Eventually, Dove sits on the bench next to Elvis and puts her hands on the keys. Elvis didn't even know she played, but he watches her in awe as she gently presses the keys, singing a hymn in her Native language. When she finishes, he leans over and kisses her softly, unable to stop himself.

"That was beautiful, Dovey."

"Thanks, Jumbee." She whispers it but they're close enough that Gladys catches her nickname for him.

"That's sweet. What's it mean?" Dove looks up at her but before she can answer, Elvis cuts in.

"It's an endearment in her language. She used it for me and it just kinda stuck." He smiles proudly again and Vernon sighs discontentedly.

"Son, can I talk with you for a moment?"

"Sure, Daddy." He gestures and Elvis follows him into the corner. Dove plays another song on the piano and Gladys sings along. At the end, she stops her.

"Honey, how do you know all these gospel songs?"

"Oh. My daddy is a preacher."

"An Indian preacher?"

"Yes ma'am." Gladys beams. She's proud of her son for finding such a good girl. "Play another one, baby."

Dove goes into another song and the ladies harmonize while the men talk.

"You're not serious about this girl, Elvis." Elvis looks at him in shock.

"I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know you have an image to uphold now."

"Yeah, and? I know the Colonel wants me single, but I can't stay that way forever."

"It's not just that, son. This kind of... interracial relationship... it's not gonna be good."

"Interracial relationship?!"

"She's not white, son."

"And you think that's a problem?"

"I think it just might be more trouble than she's worth." Elvis raises his voice and catches the attention of both women.

"You listen to me, Daddy. I don't care what you or anybody else has to say about it. She is worth it and I am serious about her."

"Now, son, there's no need-"

"No, there is a need! I love her and nothing you say is going to change it!" He stops and looks around the silent room. Dove has stopped playing the piano. She whispers to herself.

"He loves me?" Gladys responds quietly.

"That's what I heard." She puts her hands on Dove's shoulders protectively, glaring at Vernon. Elvis crosses the room and stands her up to face him.

"Yes. I love you, Dovey and I don't care who knows it." A warm smile spreads across her face.

"I love you too, Elvis." He leans down and kisses her a little more passionately than he should in front of his parents.

"Come on, Vernon. Let's get to bed and leave these two young people to each other." Gladys goes to usher him out of the room.

"Goodnight, Mama." Elvis says it without taking his eyes off of Dove.

"You two don't stay up too late."

"Yes ma'am."

"It was lovely to meet you, Dove."

"You too, Mrs. Presley." She knows it's probably rude, but she can't look away from Elvis. Gladys smiles again and walks from the room with Vernon in tow. Once his parents are gone, Elvis pulls Dove into a deep kiss, pressing his body against hers. He whispers against her lips.

"Come up to my room." He turns and takes her hand, leading her up the stairs. Once they get to his room, Dove swallows nervously. "Dovey, it's okay. Tonight's not the night."

She smiles and he pulls her into another kiss. The kiss heats up and he walks her backwards to the bed. He lays down with her, running his hand across her stomach and down to her hip. She throws her leg over him and rolls her hips into his. He pulls back, breathing heavily.

"Okay, slow down."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, baby. I know it's hard to stop." A lightbulb goes off for him and he smiles. "Honey, what if we... did something... but not... that..."

"Like what?" He smiles slyly.

"Do you trust me?"

"Always, Jumbee." He moves his hand down to her knee, trying to stop himself from trembling. His hand slides slowly up her thigh to her hip under her skirt. Then, he walks his fingers over to her center. She whimpers.

"Elvis, what are you doing?"

"Just let me touch you. I promise we won't go any further." She nods. He fumbles a little but eventually gets his fingers under the edge of her panties, moving them down to the place where she didn't even know she was aching for him.

"Oh..." She moans softly as his finger finds her center and moves around the edges of her entrance. "Tell me if it hurts or doesn't feel good..."

She whimpers again as he carefully slides one finger inside her.

"Oh, God." He looks at her carefully.

"Good?"

"Yes..." He starts to move his finger in and out and she moans. He smiles and then leans in, kissing her neck gently. He's talked to the guys enough to know what to do next. His thumb makes its way carefully to her sensitive bud, making circles. Her back arches and she whimpers.

"Is that good, baby?" She makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a grunt and he smiles again. He seems to be on the right track.

Dove is overwhelmed with the sensation of his hand on her. Something is building inside her and though she doesn't know what it is, she wants it to continue to completion. In efforts to reach whatever the goal is, she grinds into him, inadvertently rubbing against his cock, which is already hard just with what he's doing. He whines and rubs himself against her again. His mouth moves back up to hers and he kisses her deeply, rolling into her a little harder. She feels his hardness against her hip and it turns her on even more as she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him in close to her.

"Oh, Elvis, don't stop!" He pumps his finger into her harder and harder as he grinds against her over and over. The friction is pushing his foreskin back and forth over his dick and he feels the pressure building.

"Mmm... Dove, baby, it feels so good."

"Yes! Yes!" He moves his thumb faster over her clit, nibbling on her earlobe and rubbing against her hip passionately. The heat between them grows as the intensity of their actions increases. His fingers move deftly against her as his hips do the same. They both feel like they're about to burst with desire and love for each other. And then they do.

"God, yes, baby, fuck!"

"Elvis!" She moans his name loudly as she climaxes hard against his hand, pulsing around his finger just as he ruts against her one last time, shuddering and whimpering, filling his pants with ropes of cum. She rides out the high of her orgasm completely oblivious to the fact that he's doing the exact same thing. He realizes what happened, though and pulls away quickly.

"Wait? Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

"What? Why?" She looks down at his crotch and notices the wet spot on his pants. "What happened?"

"I-I-I I finished..."

"Oh..." She giggles and he rolls his eyes, embarrassed. He tries to move away from her again and she grabs him. "No, it's okay Jumbee. That was really... it's okay..."

He looks up at her shyly.

"You really don't mind?"

"No, baby. I'm glad it was good for you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She leans into him and kisses him deeply. He wraps her in his arms.

"I love you, Dovey. So much."

"I love you too, Jumbee." He nuzzles into the side of her face and kisses her cheek.

"You wanna stay? I can hold you all night." She considers what it would mean for her to stay all night with him. Then she looks into his eyes. He is her future. Why would she ever leave?

"Yes, please." A genuine smile spreads across his face and he jumps out of bed, going to his drawers. He grabs a set of pajamas and brings it over to the bed.

"You take the top and I'll take the bottoms. Then we can snuggle up and sleep all night just you and me." He pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek.

They both change into the set of pajamas and then crawl into bed. He cuddles up behind her and buries his face in her hair.

"I'm so glad I met you."

"Me too, Jumbee. Me too."

They drift off to sleep together, Elvis's mind racing with plans of how and when to ask and visions of her in a white dress walking down the aisle towards him.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley

[your--isgayrights]

Outside of Lee Seolhwa and Lee Sookyung, do you have plans for any other character outside of Kim Dokja’s primary companions (like Gong Pildu or Han Doonghoon) for your soulmate fanfiction? Constellations like Persephone or Uriel or Sun Wukong probably wouldn’t make sense to exist in real life but maybe characters such as Han Myungoh/Han Dareum or Jang Hayoung could fit? If I recall correctly, Jang Hayoung in particular is the one responsible for the title of the fanfiction, right? I feel like she alongside the Unidentifiable Wall and the Fourth Wall would be so thematically appropriate but I couldn’t imagine how you would do it if at all. I also want to say that I’m impressed how you managed to seamlessly incorporate so many references to the original ORV into your work. It must have required you to reread and recheck the wiki.

Yess, I'm glad you asked this anon bc literally I just threw in a little reference to Han Doonghoon and Lee Sungkook in the 4.4 update and got worried people would think they had to remember the characters well to understand the surrounding plot point better than Kim Dokja does. But I think I should trust the reader a bit more lol.

Unfortunately my inclusion of Aileen and Jang Hayoung isn't going to be as big as the other kdjco members, but they're sort of already set up in the fic and have a role in chap 5. I think JHY doesn't appear directly bc to me the relationship between her and KDJ is harder to make 'real,' though I have some ideas depending on how much I decide to include in chap 5. In my plans 5 will have a gaming tourney featured, so other big 'wos players' may be referenced further there as well.

Of course like you mention the fic title and many of the chapter titles are coming directly from the mouth of Jang Hayoung, so in that way she is constantly being referenced, haha.

Han Myungoh and his daughter are referenced earlier in Chapter 4. It's sort of a drive by.

I do make use of the wiki (bless the editorsn🙏), though mostly just to check dates, numbers, and spellings of names. I like to think of myself as someone with a pretty decent memory tho, so a lot of the more specific story references are definitely just me pulling in stuff I remember from my novel read throughs. Like I might have to look at the wiki to remember Han Dareum's name, but I'll never forget Han Myungoh's entire Male Pregnancy that he had like that was a crazy random W to me on my first ORV read through I was like hello??? Also that being around when JHY was being confirmed trans haha. I think I was only out for like a year or so before reading orv so the little gender fucky moments really stuck out to me.

Sometimes rereading my old work I also remember things I forgot happened in ORV. I think part of the reason I'm struggling so much with chap 4 and onward is that now that the wall fic characters have sort of developed to where they are some of the scenes I had in mind are less 1 to 1 with the OG. For instance, I'm trying to rewrite a scene I have of YJH and KDJ having a rooftop chat that like parallels the one back before the seoul's strongest incarnation arc in the novel, but it's a bit difficult. At first I wanted to include a lot more of KDJ interacting with the rest of YJH's team, but the rooftop Scene makes more sense to put a cap on the themes explored in chap 4. But when I first wrote this scene it was less specifically addressing that theme, because it was in the outline of like right after I wrote chapter 1, so it was kind of just the OG ORV scene with the flavoring of my AU on top. A lot of the little things they do and say in the OG novel would have to be quite finagled to fit anymore, so reworking it is the big task rn.

Anyway I'm really appreciative of people like you who take note of these small details <3. it's kind of helping me remember and appreciate a lot of the parts of me that were behind a lot of Wall fic originally if that makes sense? I am like reintroducing myself to him and giving him a hug instead of running away cringing just because it's me lol.

[eleccy]

It's the fact that Kristoph completely engineered his own downfall while doing everything he possibly could to avoid being found out.

Apollo - and Klavier too - take Kristoph down with the very things he taught them.

Apollo: (Who was it that taught me never to pull punches in cross-examination?) Apollo: (It was you, Mr. Gavin! I learned it from watching you!)

At the same time, it's stated and implied throughout Kristoph's segments that he taught them everything they knew - about truth, evidence, breaking witnesses, avoiding being misled, trusting your instincts as an attorney. The very values he instilled into his little students were the tools they used to take him out.

I think we easily forget that Kristoph wasn't really teaching Klavier and Apollo bad things. There are AUs, including mine, that explore that possibility. And certainly he was probably weaving some not-so-savory lessons into his words - ways to cheat the system, etc. But overall, Kristoph seems to be a very by-the-book attorney.

Kristoph was the one that incriminated himself by impulse killing Zak and then (stupidly, to be honest) revealing that he thought that the cards were blue.

By trying to kill the Mishams, he ended up damning himself because of his paranoia. Drew Misham was involved in illegal activities - he knew he would go down if he ever dared to reveal Kristoph's identity, not that he knew what that identity was to begin with. Kristoph never let Drew see his face or know his real name because he used a pseudonym and hid his face. The only person who could have possibly ratted on him was Vera, and Vera (a) practically worshipped him and never would have given him up unless compelled to (b) didn't seem to know his name in the first place (c) had no reason to believe that Kristoph was doing anything wrong and (d) literally never left the house. The only reason Vera left the house in the first place is because she was forced to after Drew's unnecessary death, which Kristoph himself arranged.

By doing everything he did, Kristoph created the perfect conditions for his own downfall. He engineered his own L. Ace Attorney villains have done some pretty crazy shit, but it's difficult to identify one that is as cunning, contradictory, and sadly unfortunate as Kristoph. Nothing seems to really go his way at all. He has fantastic luck for seven years and then everything just falls neatly into Phoenix's lap the way it always does. Phoenix's immortal luck and unbeatable plot armor just spell the end of it for Kristoph. This man has survived much worse and always comes back. The gods are looking out for him. Kristoph isn't so lucky.

Ultimately, everything was driven by paranoia and fear of it becoming known that he had fabricated evidence and given it to Phoenix Wright, causing the end of the legend.

I think Kristoph's foresight in playing the long game and strategizing about possible outcomes are unmatched. In chess, he'd be twenty steps ahead and already planning his next move in a thousand different scenarios. He always prepares for every possible eventuality. Even in the Zak Gramarye trial, I believe that he thought he could defeat Klavier on his own, even without fabricated evidence. But he had the forgery created anyway, as insurance. Kristoph is not the type of guy to tight-rope without a net. He wanted to make sure that he would win no matter what happened.

While his long term, detail-oriented strategizing and 5D chess skills are great, Kristoph does not do well reacting to things when he doesn't have a lot of time to think. Killing Zak was a very amateurish move that ended up costing him the game, but his fear got the better of him at a time that he did not have any time to sit and think. In a time-limited situation in which he cannot think deeply about possible outcomes, contingencies and pros/cons of his options, Kristoph tends to experience some deficits in his decision-making. He is unable to make a good choice quickly because he's too concerned with finding and quickly executing on the "optimal" outcome, and he is usually affected by emotion much more than he normally would be. Taking the killing Zak example, in the moment, his fears tell him that killing Zak is the best option because it ensures no risk of Zak revealing what he knows. It may be an extremely risky gambit, but Kristoph believes he can pull it off and keep his mouth shut later. He could have gotten away with it, but failed to keep his mouth shut, later, and his slip of the tongue does him in.

While he is fairly adaptable and doesn't shy away from making hard decisions quickly, he can become myopic and narrow-minded in situations where he must leverage conflicting priorities. The calculus of what determines a priority in his mind seems to put his self-preservation first above all else, not only in terms of remaining alive and safe, but of staying an attorney, and of staying as a well-regarded attorney. He also values staying wealthy, as this gives him a sense of superiority and without this, he would lose his own sense of identity.

Basically, tl;dr Kristoph is smart, but he's stupid, and he's extremely unlucky. The fact of the matter is that he set himself up to fail. Despite his machinations, if he had just done one thing differently, he could've remained on top. Yet it was the kindness he had to educate Apollo and Klavier that finished him off. And when he realized this, he basically lost his mind.

[wizzycore]

Why you should vote for each of them and full art below!

Khastunet "Cass Mask" Djeserit (species: half Krok, all mummy, @mudstoneabyss)

"Ok listen. He's a Krokotopian prince. he's got mommy issues. he dies but he's cursed so he's not *dead*. His tomb gets raided by some Marleybonians and his casket brought to Cool Ranch where they think if they start some kind of new showcase there they can make a quick buck. But oops! Mummy incident! He's back and real mad at these guys and don't worry he does deal with them, but afterwards hes still kind of just in this new place now but rather than be upset about it he goes. well when in Rome. and becomes a cowboy. So he's an undead cowboy prince who hates the British and idk that's pretty cool. He's even transgender"

Wood/Woodie/Woodrow (species: construct, by @aberrantparadox, art by @kurofae)

"Woodrow isn't a human, and Woodie isn't a person, though they do like to roleplay as one. Are they cool? What are they? They aren't even sure. Woodie, Woodrow.... they're not even the being's names, simply names extrapolated from the common answer they give to the question of they are ("....uhm....I'm wood"). They're human shaped but not human looking, with a human heart but not human emotions, they're a machine in a literal sense but also a metaphorical one as they do do their duty as told, but they're also doing it of their free will - theyre certainly a thinking person but they aren't. It would be wrong though to say they're looking for real personhood, though, or to be utterly rid of personhood also - they're searching for something beyond that, and beyond the spiral too, they think. Something like the jungle of stardust they always see in their "dreams".

There's the factual part - as in, they're a wood mannequin made by Merle Ambrose to fight off Malistaire and other threats. Well, they're actually just plucked from Golem Tower and altered. Their concept was brought up before Malistaire went rogue, and then abandoned. Woodie is the golem, and the magic possessing it, and the heart of the fallen champion of Bartleby, and the heads. He is also none of these at any given time. It isn't his heart - it lives in their chest cavity with all their gears, things that belong to them, indubitably, and is theirs, as much as their heads are or aren't.

Their heads - each professor made a different swappable head distinctly tuned to their school of magic, so that their new champion could perfectly and easily master all the schools. They're necessary to channel the magic inherent in other tools, for someone/thing who otherwise has no magic within them. Each head feels different to use for Woodrow, gives different consequences and a different mindset, but the spirit doesn't become different beings, unless you define a being by its personality and magical energy - a common definition. Woodrow leaves it open. They can see out of any of the heads, or all at the same time, having 7-fold (and eventually 9-fold) vision. They don't need any attached to their body to move, think, or function, but they do need them to cast spells, and when in the field its better to keep at least one head attached just in case. Their weird sight also lets them see stranger things, like invisible beings, currents of magic, and other phenomena. They can't gape at any of that though, because they don't have a face, and they wouldnt anyway, because they came into the world that way and none of this is surprising. But it is a bit lonely.

Feelings are difficult when youre made of wood and don't have human sensations. Most emotions Woodie experiences are muted and overlaid with boredom or a sort of diffuse nothingness. But occasionally they do feel something properly, and that is the most vast thing in the world to them. They deeply care about other beings and will readily use violence to keep the majority safe. They're unsympathetic to those who hurt others out of hurt, but aren't cruel. Every being, secure in their self, breathing with lungs and gills and magic, even the evil ones, are a wonder to Woodrow, and like the person who once had his-but-not-his heart, protecting those beings in their perfect imperfection - just to look at them - just to look at them, it's everything, just to look at them...."

[tungledotedu]

you reblogged a post that points out the callous and racist bias behind the spread of unproven, exaggerated claims of a large-scale scam, only to make the very same accusations. this is not helping anyone, especially gazans facing genocide, who have the most to lose from being smeared as liars and bots instead of receiving life-saving aid.

do you realise how dehumanising it is to be called a bot, let alone when you're a refugee trying to flee unimaginable atrocities? elodieunderglass's addition called for us to show grace to people asking for support, yet you've failed to do that.

it's very concerning that you tried to derail by bringing up hamas twice. at this point it's a dogwhistle for 'these palestinians begging for help are actually terrorists!'. so you think hamas is diverting aid from people in need? you are doing the same thing by making people suspicious and less inclined to donate. think of it like this:

if the average user ends up being scammed, they lose $5 and someone gets $5 they probably don't need.

if a legitimate fundraiser fails to raise enough money, gazans have a very real risk of being killed with each day as they endure more bombing with next to no access to shelter, healthcare, or food.

do you know wafaa, who is in egypt right now and is trying to save her family members in gaza? she told us her niece and sister have died. this has happened and will happen again due to the slowing down of donations. a different fundraiser had a $500 donation withdrawn due to mistaken suspicions. don't play cops; there is a lot at stake and you are putting lives in danger.

and i said hussein no longer shared his explanation of the vetting process. that's different from saying he has never explained it at any point. even that has changed due to these recent ill-informed claims. people act like he's not being transparent at all and the only work he does is sharing random links, but he and other palestinians do describe how they verify gazans' identities in a few posts if you are genuinely interested.

it's not 'complete bullshit' to take precautions, even if they aren't foolproof. the fact that you jumped to accusing hussein of lying about vetting instead of reaching out for discussion betrays a lack of good faith. and it doesn't 'cost basically nothing' for actual gazans to set up gofundmes and tumblr accounts; on top of unreliable internet access, the whole evacuation process is difficult and rigorous. and yet they do this anyway out of sheer desperation to survive and escape.

ahmed saad (90-ghost), one of the people vetting gazans' ids, is not a random anonymous user. he is actually from gaza and is the brother of journalist reema saad, who was killed in a 2021 israeli airstrike. before you start typing, his name is spelled ahmad in that cnn article because there are multiple ways to render arabic names with latin letters.

They're [registered nonprofits] not hard to find, and they do get boosted on tumblr, including on jumblr—including by Zionists! But somehow those posts don't get as much attention as these asks.

'somehow'? posts about charity organisations get boosted too, like this one with 18,000 notes. here's a general masterlist with 36,000 notes. here's another one with 160,000 notes, all with links to e-sims and aid organisations. they provide critical resources and serve a different purpose. nobody is saying you shouldn't donate to them, it's not an either/or situation. it's also important to help with evacuation funds because right now it's the only way people in gaza can get to safety.

i do agree in one respect: be critical and do your research. again, nobody is forcing you to publish the asks or donate in the first place. but spreading these claims around is going to cause panic and drive people to mass report even legitimate accounts, depriving them of one of their only means to raise funds. it's already incredibly difficult for gazans to access the internet; don't make it worse for them.

it's better to be safe than sorry, and in this case this reblog does not strike me an attempt to engage in good faith, but rather to spread more misinformation. i will block you for this reason.

i'll just leave this here (emphasis mine):

This has always been a matter of personal discretion. The vetting process some users tried to implement on here is meant to help people who want to help and accept the risk of offering aid to strangers. If you don’t trust bloggers who’ve been proudly Palestinian on this site for years, that’s up to you—genuinely, it’s fair to think “I don’t know this person and I don’t know what standards they’re operating on.” In the future, anyone who has such concerns should consider asking good-faith questions to the people involved and to converse with them like adults before jumping to accusations, conspiratorial posts, etc.

uh why the fuck would you say this

this post has 3000 notes and they get worse.

el-shab-hussein has already explained why he no longer shares how he vets individual fundraisers. scammers will use the information to be less obvious, making it more difficult to spot them.

and senatortedcruz's post has no actual proof of a widespread scam. that is a serious accusation to make, yet people are reblogging it and accepting it as true with no evidence. i won't deny that there are individual grifters on tumblr, but there are accounts like @/neechees, kyra45 and anonthescambuster that will help you avoid them. hussein even has a #scam alert tag for this purpose.

it's racist to spread misinformation about a supposed large-scale deception posing as fundraisers, not to mention dangerous because this makes it less likely for gazans to get what they need to survive and escape relentless airstrikes. we've already seen the consequences of this bias. some of these people are all too happy to be cops and harass or report gazans thinking they're bots or 'spamming' inboxes.

almost nobody on that post is encouraging others to donate to organisations or other vetted lists like those by operation olive branch, which has a faq sheet that explains how they verify fundraisers. i suspect this is an attempt to discourage people from helping palestinians altogether.

gazans are making fundraisers because they have no other choice. many of them cannot work and earn money as their workplaces have been destroyed. some have been disabled by injuries thanks to the iof's targeting of civilians. the fault is on israel for besieging them and on the egyptian government for exploiting their need to evacuate.

they're doing this for the same reason they have been posting photographs and videos of genocide so that people will pay attention to their suffering, so the world will not forget. is it such a leap in logic to understand they will also use social media to start fundraisers? do you just expect them to sit there and die in silence? so you can ignore them and your countries can keep arming israel as it commits atrocities?

[oldarticles]

College vs. Real College

by Jake Hurwitz

Like many of you, I grew up watching Saved by the Bell, Boy Meets World, and (don't tell anyone) Dawson's Creek. Those shows taught me all I knew about relationships, family problems, and, as years passed without network cancellation, college life. Well, you can imagine my disappointment when I moved into my dorm freshman year only to discover that the college life portrayed on television during my youth was not even remotely similar to real college life. Allow me to explain:

Saved by the Bell: First of all, the fact that Zack got into UCLA without ever doing any homework (aside from that project he did with the Native American that one time) just because he got a good SAT score is ridiculous, but I won't even get into that. Zack moves in to his dorm with A.C. Slater and Samuel "Screech" Powers. Talk about a stroke of luck! Who saw that one coming?! As freshmen, Zack and the guys had a sweet common room, complete with a kitchen, which connected them to one Miss Kelly Kapowski and her two hot roommates, Leslie and Alex. My freshman year I lived in a 12 by 10 cinderblock cell with a strange Indian kid who had a nasty Hot-Pocket addiction and rampant body odor. There was no common room connecting our room to the room of three gorgeous women. Instead, we had a hallway with a puke-stained carpet connecting our room to the R.A.'s room - who, by the way, was not an awesome ex-football player named Mike but a tiny computer nerd named Barry. Yeah, my first day on campus was a let-down, and it only went downhill from there.

Boy Meets World: Just like Cory, Eric, Topanga, Sean and Angela, I applied to Pennbrook University. Sadly, I didn't get in, but not because of my low G.P.A. or because of a lack of extra curricular activities. No, I'd say the biggest determining factor in my not being admitted was that Pennbrook doesn't exist. That's probably the reason my spell check has it underlined in red right now. Anyway, as if that wasn't bad enough, I was totally thrown off when I went to my first class and didn't see my favorite teacher from high school standing at the front, ready to throw some sweet life lessons my way. What the hell, Mr. Deck? Mr. Feeny followed his students from school to school. I know change is difficult, and you might be missing that PhD, but, dude, get with the program. I mean, what am I supposed to do if Topanga gets mad at me? Or what if Angela wants to move to Europe for a year with her Dad? I can't solve problems like this on my own!

Dawson's Creek: That's when I started thinking, why should I even go to college? Pacey didn't go and he did fine. He was an investment banker, and later in the very same season, a chef. Those things sound like stuff I can do without ever getting any sort of actual training, right? So I put on a suit and went out there and gave it a shot. Amazingly, no brokerage houses or five-star restaurants hired me after my interviews. I did everything Pacey did; grew the goatee, drove a cool vintage car, even tried to use unnecessarily big words in my sentences"; unfortunately my math knowledge is at or below third grade level, and I don't know how to use a calculator. The chef thing didn't go too well when they discovered my culinary skills were limited to making Easy-Mac, and even that comes out a little watery sometimes".

What I'm trying to say is that college is not like TV. You're not going to bang Joey Potter, Topanga or in Zack's case - whoever the hell you want. Your teachers aren't gonna be Mr. Feeny or Professor Lasky (Thanks IMDB!). And you're gonna have to work hard to excel in life, my friend. But there is one upside that TV didn't tell you about. There's tons of alcohol to drink and crazy drugs to do in college, way more than any TV shows let on. So have a ball! Cut loose! Get fucked up! Hey, maybe Topanga will pass out and you can feel her boobs.

[sparrowwritings]

Writing Challenge Day Twenty-seven: River

Day Twenty-six -- Masterpost -- Day Twenty-eight Kay hesitated at the edge of the river. Her toes curled up in anticipation, watching the water lap at the sides. Beside her, Roger was in a similar state of dread. The two eyed each other, then the moving water for the third time. 

“You ninnies. The best way to test out the water is to just get in there.” A rough voice stated from behind the teenagers before the two of them were shoved into the river. There was a massive splash, followed by the tweeting whistles of a couple of lifeguards who hurried by to see what was going on. 

The teens managed to surface and cough up chlorinated water. Thankfully the water was about three feet in depth, so it was easy for them to stand. “You two alright over here??” One of the lifeguards, an older man in a topknot with the whistle and bright red trunks of pool authority looked them over. His fellow guard was busy giving the culprit a chewing out. The Captain (neither teen knew his actual name, though they’d both heard Roger’s dad call him Sevka when in another room) just folded his arms and looked entirely unimpressed with the lecture. 

Roger was the first one to recover enough to answer. “I got water up my nose.” He complained. “Now it feels tingly.” 

“I think I’m okay.” Kay whipped back wet hair out of her face and blinked a couple of times. “Should’ve brought a hair tie, though.” 

With a sigh of relief, the lifeguard glared back over at Captain for a moment. “Well obviously follow the rules better than he did,” He started as he reached a thumb under one of the bands around his wrist. In a practiced motion, the band was off and being offered to Kay. “But otherwise have fun.”

She gratefully took it with a nod of thanks. In fact, her mouth had opened enough to say something when Captain’s voice cut in. “The water’s not deep enough to cause this much alarm. Besides, they’re fine, clearly.” 

“Sir, I really need you to come with me--”

“Absolutely not. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“You could have injured the kids, or someone else or both--”

“Oh please--” Captain and the other lifeguard were both steadily raising their voices, so the first gave a quick thumbs up and headed over to try to do some damage control.

The two looked at each other. Kay shrugged and started to tie up her hair in a ponytail. Not all of it could fit, so a few strands on either side of her face hung down. “At least he didn’t push us into the big pool. ” The water was warm, which had surprised her. She’d expected something cooler when she’d been staring at it. She could feel the water trying to push her down its winding path as she kept standing. “Or off one of the diving boards.” 

He stuck a finger in one ear, and then the other. Probably trying to dislodge any water that had gotten in there. “You know, I heard him once talk about throwing his son into the ocean to teach him how to swim.” 

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Spotting an inner tube floating in their direction, Kay made her way to try to intercept it before it got out of their grasp. Before she could get very far, though, Roger grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the side of the river. 

She felt very awkward all of a sudden at the skin to skin contact. It’s not like she was indecent or anything--Kay was wearing a black tankini top with printed white flowers and black swim shorts. It was just that her usual clothes tended to lean more towards long sleeves and covering skin rather than showing anything off. Touch was something that she shared with a very few people, and even though Roger was on that list the contact was still strange due to not being used to having any for long periods of time. 

Her thoughts were still circling around this contact and what it might mean for her when Roger tugged her arm again and she came back to the present. “Look! A double one!” He pointed excitedly.

Indeed, the object he had focused on was an innertube made for two people. It looked like a bright orange eight with two sets of handles near either hole--presumably so that both parties could feel secure. Kay eyed the single innertube as someone swam up to claim it. “Alright, that’ll work.” 

Together, the two of them briefly hopped out of the lazy river to drag the double innertube back. It took a bit of awkward maneuvering from both of them, but eventually they managed to get comfortable in the plastic embrace as the river steadily moved them around the water park. 

They had managed to go through a single lap of the river when they saw Captain getting scolded by Roger’s dad. The boy sat up so fast to wave that it nearly overturned the delicate balance that the two of them had managed to make. Thankfully, Kay had hunkered down enough on her side that neither of them went overboard. After a brief moment of panic, Roger’s dad gave a sigh of relief and waved back before going back to his conversation. 

“Sevka you know better--” They could hear echoing towards them.

“The water here’s harmless, Sascha.” Captain was huddled up on a lawn chair, practically hissing like a cat. “For the love of all that is good and decent, the water’s indoors. The boy’s even laying in it right now! Nothing bad’s going to happen here.”

“That still doesn’t give you the right to push him into it!”

Roger’s face was falling further and further as he watched the adults get into an argument. The river wasn’t moving fast enough to get them away from the scene very quickly. Kay decided that it was time for a distraction. She leaned over far enough to scoop up water and quickly splashed it at her friend. 

“Hey!” He leaned over and did the same to her. She laughed and kept splashing. 

“We’re in an all fun zone! No moping in the fun zone!” 

“Says the moper!” Roger accused as he stretched enough to get water with both hands. This proved to be a horrible plan and he slid right into the river. Kay sat up enough to try to see if he was okay, only to get a veritable tidal wave to the back of her head. “Gotcha!” He called out from a short distance behind her.

“Of course you know, this means war.” She declared as she tucked herself up enough to also fall into the water.

The splash fight that ensued was quite epic, though the teens had to pause when Roger’s dad called them both to lunch.

[sugars-fluffy-escapes]

ok ok, BUT but BUT BUT BUT Eddie getting a lee mood as u describe ur dnd character wrecking Eddie’s npc for interrogation 😳

🫢😈 ANON I'M ON DEMON TIME NOW ISTG SGAHDHSJDJDJ- And I wanna say thank you to two tumblr moots for helping me make these hcs happen while I'm still familiarizing myself with D&D 🥹 Hcs under the cut!

Eddie's such a smug little shit at first. Big bad DM thinking he's successfully gotten under your skin with an irritating npc who's refusing to answer any of your questions. But then...

"It appears that the only living soul who carries the information you seek is not willing to reveal said information to you. (Character's name here), what would you like to do?"

"I'm going to ask him if he's ticklish."

Eddie's going to short circuit and you can see his body language grow more tense. He will try anything to keep this from happening because of all places for you to throw him into a lee mood, it's during the club meeting??? (Not that he minds though 🥴) No matter what tactics he tries to use, you've always got a tactic of your own to continue throwing him off.

Is he making the NPC lie? Insight check time. You'll see the blush creeping up on his face when you roll. Eddie has different answers depending on what the outcome of the roll was, but even then, you're just as stubborn as he is and you're gonna tickle the npc anyway even if the roll was unsuccessful. You tell him as much.

^ What he looks like when you two are in a verbal joust over this friggin interrogation tactic of yours. He's very stubborn, but so are you. You are going to roll for every advantage you possibly can and the entire time you're arguing with this friggin DM, he's growing more squirrelly and squirmy. The rest of the club is so done with both of you LMFAO 😭 /lh

You came to this meeting prepared, lemme tell you AHJSJSJRJR. Whether your character can perform and has prepared the "enhance ability spell" or if any of your fellow club members can, ohhh boi. Edward Munson isn't ready. If you use "hex," wiggle your fingers in his direction and watch him squirm 🫢

Tickle checks somehow end up becoming a thing after Eddie spends some time racking his brain over how "tickle checks" would even frickin happen. He's gonna make it difficult and will act like a smartass about what you'll need to roll for.

^ This smugness fizzles away real fast 🥴

Alas, your stubbornness wins and Eddie's efforts are futile and the npc gets tickled. He doesn't want to put actual effort into the voice acting because he's flustered to hell and he'll be damned if he lets you win. The rest of the club ain't letting that slide though.

"Eddie! You have no problem getting theatrical with the fucking voices any other time! Commit to the character, dammit!"

"Yeah, Eddie. Do I actually have to tickle you just to really sell it~?"

"N-Not one fucking step closer, you absolute fucking heathen!"

^ I am convinced Edward Munson uses words like "scoundrel" and "heathen" because he is a nerd <3

If you do end up tickling him while y'all are playing, it's likely going to be after you've rolled a crit hit, and you exclaim as much before pouncing on him and next thing you know the damn DM's on the floor flailing like a fish and screech-cackling. He knows better than to ask the other club members to save him. You think they'd skip on an opportunity to knock the DM off of his high horse? Give one of your fellow club members the "help" action and wreck this adorable little shit with tickles 👏🏾

If you don't end up tickling him and making him sink from his chair onto the floor during the actual game, he's absolutely gonna be in a lee mood still and will find a not-so-subtle way to provoke you into finally tickling him after the club's done playing for the night. Probably via telling you that your character's getting shown no mercy the next time y'all continue the campaign. Or, he's so annoyed and salty that you didn't actually tickle him so when the club meeting is done, he insists you actually do so because:

"You had the fucking nerve to say all that tickle shit in the middle of the campaign and now you're not gonna do it!?"

^ Bby just wants tickles now 🥺 👉🏾👈🏾 Indulge the poor lad LMFAOOO /lh

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

Anon, this concept is ���IMMACULATE✨ Thank you so so much for sending this in 🥹💖 /gen /pos /pla

I hope you enjoyed reading!

~ Ushu 🤍 (/p)

[meursaulty]

studying under each of the arcanum scholars is like... [hcs]

sometimes i forget that the arcanum is wizard college lol

the game just gives you ione as an advisor/mentor figure by default, and don't get me wrong, i love her, but i feel bad about ignoring the others. SO... please accept my humble offering of hcs (longish post):

qyburn stellargaze

i'm sorry but he seems like the type of guy to give you stuff like this

you ask him what he wants from you by the end of the week and he gives you 4 different, contradictory answers

but honestly he doesn't care as long as you have something at the end of the week

is one of those professors that cancels class bc they don't want to teach that day

he's disorganized, but it's really because he just has so many projects going on at once, even with your help. he does still want you to actually learn though... he can go on for days answering almost any question you have about astral magic and celestian history/culture if you're just straightforward about it

baba yaga

also a little disorganized, but more on the side of chaotic than forgetful

often contacts you 5 mins before your arranged meeting time telling you to meet her in some other world so she can show you a spell

*gives 50 assignments* *complains about having to grade them all* *proceeds to drop half of them because she doesn't think they're useful anymore*

would give your grade a phat curve at the end just for funsies 🤪

if your wizard is from earth, she would love to hear what children's/folk tales you remember

has made mellori guest lecture at least once (even though it's all stuff you already know, having graduated from ravenwood)

her classes aren’t necessarily difficult, just verrryyy confusing at times. somehow, you still make it out just fine and manage to have a good time?? cyrus drake could NEVER

ignus ferric

lets you work the forge of legends for extra credit but still makes you buy the recipes full price (reagents are pricey and he's gotta fuel his own work somehow)

most of your work with him is helping him develop new spells

likes to go around the arcanum with you to check on the other scholars in the name of ~interdisciplinary study~ ... really more of a social call but whatever

sometimes gives you tasks that are very sketchy in terms of safety. no he hasn't tested them himself. but he'll do them with you!! pyromancers burn bright when they work together!

he's generally one of the more lighthearted scholars, but he'll take it down a notch and be real with you should the situation call for it. pep talks, the cold hard truth, whatever you want...

ione virga

she's intense as a mentor - she likes original work so a lot the time you spend under her is exploring uncharted territory in the field of divination

a harsh grader... you're gonna have to sell your soul for an a

but she isn't tough without reason! she just has high standards, a reputation to uphold, and she wants you to do your very best

growth mindset girlie -- really, she isn't out to get you. she wants you to learn from your mistakes. resilience and problem solving are as important as the magic when it comes to her teaching

she lets up a little by the end of your term, because she knows she isn't easy on you

says she doesn't take late work but she actually does as long as she hasn't gotten around to grading yet anyway (just don't tell anyone or she'll change the policy)

jaki whisperwind

as long as you leave her tutelage having learned something, she's happy

will draw you multicolored diagrams, give demonstration upon demonstration, and explain theories and concepts in 759487 different ways if it means getting you to understand

aesthetically, she's like one of those Pinterest Teachers, but in practice she's actually bearable -- positive, but not in a toxic way

she doesn't believe in grades lol. she will literally give you an a for effort

but she's big on mutual respect. you have to fulfill your duties as a student just as she fulfills hers as a teacher. you can't just do the bare minimum and expect to pass (because you won't)

gives bonus points if you bring her a souvenir from unicorn way

qismah shasa

qismah has the most traditional style of teaching

she of course still has the arcanum flair for making you go out on your own and get practical experience, but solo adventures would be bookended by preliminary research and formal written reports/presentations

^ which you already kinda do in canon at the end of worlds

she makes you edit and revise your reports a million times before your final submission, which is annoying but actually quite helpful for your future work

keeps copies of your best work on the shelves in her office

she comes off pretty serious and focused, but if you're both free, she'll gladly welcome you into her office and tell you stories about mirage or the history of her various decorations/trinkets

tarrak hadfield

proud supporter of hands on experience - whether that's sending you out to face some creature or just sparring with him in a practice room

likes exploring the extremes - how much damage can you do (offensive) and how little can you take (defensive)?

you don't have to do much written work for him. what he really wants to see is improvement in how you perform magic, so most of your grade comes from the aforementioned hands on experience

he doesn't feed you answers. he wants you to assess your own strengths/weaknesses before he tells you them to make sure you're thinking critically about what you're doing. basically, you dictate what would otherwise be your written work

sets aside days to spend outside doing a non-magic/non-combat activity like climbing to keep some variety

velma von venkman [credit to @wizzycore for this dynamic]

velma barely has any pull at the arcanum (src) so you can bet that if you were studying under her, you'd be doing the grunt work with her... she would probably still be trying for her tenure while having you as a student

this means following her around to some pretty nasty places and defeating various creatures/collecting shadow essence to study instead of just reading about said creatures

can't rely on existing research if you are the research

working with her would feel more like a group project at times - she gives you a lot of control over how to go about things

despite how she's mentoring you, she's still fairly new to the arcanum and would be very understanding if you needed an extension/day off ("sorry, velma. can't get my draft in today, new world-ending threat just came in" / "yeah that's cool just forward it to me when you can")

zander

he's one of those flipped classroom people, where you teach yourself most of the material and spend the time you have with him reinforcing it

because do you really want to sit through a telepathically delivered lecture...

a lot of the time he just tells you to go off and do something new/fun/comfortable before reporting back

but there is a point to it ^ he wants you to see firsthand how your own experiences play into the quality of your magic (e.g. what makes a spell really effective? what inner intention, linked to what feeling? then, how do you channel that intention in the future?)

he's more knowledgeable on the theories of theurgy than the combat skills that the savior of the spiral would need, so he teaches you attack spells, but sends you to practice them with another scholar or initiate

one of his class requirements is just sitting with him in his office and joining his meditation. it's actually very nice

[heresathreebee]

Morning Of and After

SMILF Jesse X Female Reader

Summary: You meet Jesse in a bar and take him home. Masterlist

Word count: 3.3k words

Warning(s): +17 | swearing, drunk sex, porn with(out) plot (?), p in v sex, from behind, morning angst, mutual masterbation

AN: bitch I watched a 30 second clip of a tv show JUST to see an underdressed Alex Brightman. What has my life come to. Ah well, I'm gonna enjoy it while I can. Blame these lovely, inspiring fools @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape

Jesse's not sure why you were hanging off of him at the bar but he's basking in your attention now. You didn't hesitate to give the cabbie your address, arm permanently looped around his shoulders for balance. You had both been drinking– exactly how much was a mystery– and Jesse was eager for a breakthrough in his dry spell. 

Your lips are wet and on each other as he kicks your door closed. Pulling your clothes from your body proves a little difficult, especially with you wrestling to take off his. He catches a case of the giggles when you get his head stuck in his shirt but the laughter quickly turns into a moan when he feels you slip a hand into his underwear to fondle his junk. He remembers gripping your wrist like iron and ripping his shirt from his face. He gives you a gentle push backwards, right onto the edge of your bed (he didn't know that was there but he would have been happy to take you on the floor too). 

Your top is misaligned but far from off, however you are bare from the waist down and wrap your legs around his hips to pull him towards you. Jesse's just as desperate and he slips his pants down midthigh, then stops to rummage in his pocket for a condom. He has to bat your grabby little hands away or he won't last. It's a little hard to see through the haze of lust and alcohol but he manages, and then he's pressing you into the mattress leaning on an elbow and sliding his fingers through your slick folds. 

He groans and plants a kiss on your mouth. "Fuck you're wet..." 

The man wastes no time and hooks two fingers inside you, eager to stretch you out and make you come now because you're fucking gorgeous and it's driving him to the edge without any stimulation. 

You mewl beneath him, nails scratching his scalp and chest heaving as if begging for his attention. Jesse's mouth waters heavily as he sloppily licks and sucks at your breasts, pushing your top aside and just nipping at the lace bra still intact. He has no idea how high you are until your inner walls contract around his fingers so hard he worries they might break. And with a practiced motion, he eases you down from your orgasm, fingers slowing down until he slips them out. 

And just for the hell of it, he flicks your clit and feels you jump beneath him. Suddenly your teeth are digging into his neck and he howls. 

"Fuck me already," you growl. 

You spread your legs wider to fit his hips to the center and drag him into another rough kiss. Jesse has some trouble maneuvering with his pants half on, but he catches the head on your lip and pushes in groaning at the familiar feeling of being engulfed. Bottoming out inside you sends an electric tingling sensation down his spine and he has to stop for a moment and catch his breath. 

He feels your feet sliding up his thighs, one foot still in a heel which catches on his waistband. His hips give a test rock and you moan against his collarbone, legs twitching at his sides. 

Jesse sets a subtle pace, rocking into your heat and drooling a little. You feel so fucking good underneath him, so right, like eating apple pie on the Fourth of July. His balls start to tighten and he almost lets go, but the feeling of your pussy twitching draws his attention to your face. You're close to coming again but not anywhere near where he is. The sloppy drunk part of him wants to just keep going and finish but the real Jesse wants this to be good for you too and what's a little second orgasm between drunk strangers? 

He pulls out and despite your immediate protests, you quickly become curious when Jesse's hands push and pull on you as if trying to move you. 

"What are you doing?" 

His chin has a small glisten and his eyes are so watery. There are hickeys forming on his neck and a scratch or two rising on his shoulder. The hairy expanse of his chest is turning red from friction and he looks as unreal as a dream until he says, "turn over." 

Your legs twitch and you definitely soak the quilt on your bed. Did you hear him right? This guy? Soft, pretty boy who was just a second ago gently rocking your world? 

He licks his lips and says, "turn around. I wanna do it the other way. On your knees." 

Fuck. Well you're definitely shaking with excitement as you fulfill his command. You finally manage to slip your top off and fling it into the abyss off the bed. You wiggle your hips into the requested position and shiver as a warm hand slides up your spine. Another warm hand locks around your hip and you feel him enter you with no resistance. The rough material of his jeans scratches at your thighs as he begins to thrust, longer strokes that leave you empty and full, empty and full again. You quickly slide off of your elbows and press your face into the blanket, loving the way he seems to lose himself again inside you. 

God, does he even know he's moaning right now? It's so hot, somehow hotter than him driving his cock deep inside you. The slapping sound of his hips against your ass sendings endorphins straight to your head. After Jesse breathes another 'fuck,' you slither a hand underneath your body to circle your clit. The first touch of your fingers to your sticky little button causes you to tighten around Jesse's cock and you hear him choke. He leans over your back and settles a hand on the bed to proper himself up, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting some spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. 

"Fuck, so good," Jesse mumbles, sweaty forehead pressing against your shoulder. "Mmmm… gonna come…" 

Fuck that's exactly what you needed to hear. Your whole body turns tuat like a bow string and your walls constrict into a vice. Your legs quiver from the strong shocks of your orgasm, forcing a long, broken moan to escape your chest and black to creep into your vision. 

Your orgasm is the end of your partner. Jesse's hips stutter to a stop as he fills up the condom, unable to breath for a few seconds as he forgets his name, his location, and his sense of self and all there is left is you. Eventually Jesse's soul slams back into his body and he collapses his full weight on top of you unintentionally crushing you. He feels you laughing and at the urge of an elbow in his ribs, he rolls over and off of you. You're still giggling, boneless and satisfied as you try to catch your breath. 

You turn your head towards him to look over his blissful features. His skin glistens in the half light and he's probably seconds from falling asleep. You put a hand out on his chest and shake him awake despite yourself, knowing you need to clean up. 

"Up," you command. 

Jesse shifts off of the bed sluggishly, disposing of the condom in the bin by your desk and grabbing the waistband of his jeans like he's not sure what to do with them. You reach out mischievously and slap his ass causing him to yelp and look back at you in disbelief. 

"Take those off and get back here." You fling the quilt of your bed off and curl under the topsheet with a hand out to him. 

Jesse looks confused. He moves slowly, crawling back in naked and incapable of meeting your eyes. You place a guiding hand to help him lay his head on your silk encased pillow. "Stay," you command, and dip into the bathroom to clean up. 

Jesse lies awake but not for long, his body thumps with the beat of his heart and it lulls him to sleep. He's snoring softly when you come back and flip the lights off. 

~

Jesse's head is pounding in the morning, but he's had it worse. Like way worse. The bedroom curtains are drawn but the sun is direct and the light reflects off the walls a little too strongly for his liking. You look pretty in nothing but sheets and it's turning him on a little bit. 

What the fuck was a girl like you doing with a guy like him anyways, he wondered, over his skinnier and better looking friends? And then he wondered, how much did you have to drink last night? It unnerves him that he doesn't know the answer. You left the bar together but you didn't walk in together, who knows how many jager bombs or tequila shots you had before you met him? 

Jesse's really hyped himself up now, his hands are getting clammy and he's about to start fidgeting if he doesn't figure something out soon. When you wake up will you remember him? Did you know his name like he knew yours? Would you throw him out in disgust? Maybe you were the type who took them home because you knew they'd be gone at first light. Maybe you liked it that way. 

Jesse takes a deep breath to steel himself. He's intent on thinking things through until… until he realizes it took 10 minutes. From the time you entered the apartment to the time he came, it took 10 minutes. Oh god… that is the nail in the coffin for him. 

He slides out of bed as quietly as possible. His face is hot and his hands are cold as he slips into his underwear, then his pants. He lets his feet carry him out of the bedroom and into the hallway where he finds his shirt, and he gets distracted looking at your soaked lace underwear as he reaches for the keys by the door. 

You actually live really close to his work, which is where he left his car last night. If he can just get some distance maybe he can think better. He could probably use a tylenol more than anything right now. 

Jesse's waiting for a light to change at a crosswalk when he realizes these are not his keys. All regrets about leaving his phone number on a paper somewhere at your place go out the window when he realizes he doesn't have his phone either. 

"Fuck," he mutters in defeat.  

Returning back to your apartment is the real walk of shame. He hopes someone will stop him, ask him if he lives around here or something so he can chicken out and maybe get a friend to get his stuff back. The cute like trinkets hanging off your car keys do give him some interesting insight into the things you like. 

He can't remember if he left the door unlocked and celebrates when he doesn't have to knock and wake you up. He probably should have clued in when he heard the sound of a sink turning off, but he's actually more hungover than he thought. He fully freezes like a deer in headlights when you appear with a towel on your head and fresh lounging clothes. 

The look you give him should have turned him to stone. "Hey Jesse. Forget something?" 

He opens his mouth and nothing but a weak "heeeeyyy," escapes. His mouth flaps like a fish and he suddenly remembers to put your keys back from where he found them. Busted. "I ee I was just going out to grab some coffee… and like a tylenol… but guess I grabbed the wrong keys, hahah..." 

The twist of your mouth is a little cruel. You let the towel rest on your shoulders and toss him his keys from the kitchen counter, warm hand lingering over his heart in an affectionate but threatening way. "Coffee sounds good. There's a shop a mile that way, honest to god espresso and cheaper prices than the usual dig. I'm sure I've got a bottle of tylenol somewhere around here, I should find it by the time you come back." 

Oh...K? Are you… planning something? Should he fear for his safety? Apologize? Not knowing what else to do (and distracted by the feeling of you caressing his chest), Jesse simply nods and turns to obey you. Only at the door does he turn back and gesture with his key hand, "you uh, haven't seen my phone, have you?" 

You're smiling. You've got no bra on beneath your baseball tee, hair soaking your shoulders, and tiny tiny shorts with pockets– a pocket carrying what he clearly recognizes as his phone– and you're smiling. 

"I like my coffee strong. Just tell them my name, they'll know what to make." Jesse doesn't know what else to do except sputter and leave. 

~

It would have been a short walk but it's an even shorter drive. Jesse stands in line assessing the menu with his hands in his pockets. You were mad at him. 

Ok, that was fair. 

You were upset that he left you without a goodbye and had stupidly forgotten his things and had to come crawling back. So you weren't that kind of person. He knows that now. But you also weren't screaming at him or begging him to stick around. 

Jesse didn't know what to think of your reaction. But you knew his name. He told you his name in the cab and if you remembered it's because you weren't blackout drunk. That's good for both of you. You didn't seem too hungover either, maybe you'd had less to drink than he did or at least the same. This is good, these were good things. 

It didn't make going back to your place less terrifying though. 

~

You left the front door cracked and Jesse pushed his way in with a cup in each hand. "Boy, they sure do like you down at that coffee shop! Extra this and extra that. I'd kill to have a place like me like that." 

You seem… calmer now. The tension in your movement is gone and you peck his lips with a kiss as you take your coffee. You reach around him to shut the door and walk to the couch expecting him to follow (and of course like a dog on a leash, he did). You passed him a tylenol and took a few yourself, washing them down with your drink before leaning back with your arm over your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Jesse blurts out. You peak at him from under your arm. "I… I didn't know if you wanted to see me when you woke up so I…" 

You snort. "Jesse, honey. If I didn't like you, you would have never made it to my room. Not even close. And if I didn't want to see you in the morning–" 

You sat up and pressed yourself almost into his lap– "I would have fucked you at the club." 

Now is not the time for a boner, this was a serious conversation. In any case, you eased up on your dominating stance and fell into his side like you belonged there. It felt nice. You smelled like fresh laundry and peaches (definitely your body wash or something), and weren't mad at him anymore. In fact you passed his phone to him and settled back. Jesse wrapped an arm around you and rested his cheek on your head. He had almost drifted back to sleep when his text tone dinged. 

MASON: Where the fuck are you? 

Jesse sighed. You knew exactly what that sound meant and became determined not to let him go without a fight, but Jesse stopped you from climbing into his lap very firmly, by flipping you onto your back and holding you down. He can't help but blush, his ears turning red as he glares at you. 

"I have. To go," he scolds. "My buddy Mason's got this project he needs help with and I promised I'd be there to help him move his stuff." 

You whine, grabbing his wrists and sliding his hands up to cover your breasts. "Can't it wait a little longer? We can be fast." 

Jesse's brain short circuits and his hands inadvertently flex. "What?" 

He knows your nipples are hard because he can feel them, and you're looking at him in that way that makes his pants tighter. You don't have to say it but when you do, he falls hook line and sinker. "Come on, babe. Round 2? Before you go?" 

How could he say no to that?

Jesse kisses you roughly. His hands squeeze your tits before he plants one to hold himself up and the other to draw you closer so he can grind his hips into yours. You gasp, pulling at his hair and then fumbling with his pants for a second just as you change your mind. Jesse protests as you push him backwards, then he stares as you slide those tiny shorts off. He goes right to circling your clit with his thumb and takes a long look at the dark spot on your new panties. 

"So easy to get you wet," he praises, swiping his thumb down over the wet patch before returning to his pronounced circular motions. 

You let him toy with you, feet resting on his shoulders until you remember your little game. you gently kick his hand away and replace it with your own, sliding the fabric aside and making him watch two of your fingers glide deep inside you. Jesse groans, intent to help out but you stop him. 

"Just me," you gasp. "Just you." 

Jesse seems momentarily confused. Then you see it click in his head and he scrambles to take his cock out, already fully erect and dark in color. He starts to stroke himself, eyes bouncing around your form and drinking in the sight of your self administered pleasure. His eyes roll back at the squelching sound filling the space between you, continuing to stroke himself with a dry rasp. 

Jesse calls your name and grasps your wrist. His tongue swirls around your fingers hungrily to suck the slick from them, groaning as he does. It's a moment's distraction as his own fings dip into your wet heat and come out coated in more. He replaces his soaked hand on his cock and strokes with renewed vigor. 

"God," he hums. It feels so good, watching you watch him is turning him on way more than he thought it would. He's getting close to coming at the thought of painting your stomach when his phone starts ringing. 

He grows an annoyed glance at the offending device, then does a double take and pounces. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck– hey boss!" 

You looked at him, completely stunned. Jesse pretended not to notice you and listened intently to the voice on his phone, nodding his head absently and to your horror, tucking his cock back into his pants. He doesn't look too happy about it, but he swallows his pride and tells his boss he'll 'be right there.' 

He's already apologizing as he pulls you up from the couch and sets your clothes right. Jesse peppers your sour face in light kisses, rubbing your arms as if to soothe you from a blinding rage. 

"I promise I'll make it up to you," he says donning his jacket. "I don't know when or how but I will I–" 

"Arcade. Thursday. 7 pm." You zip up his jacket and glare at him so he knows there's no room for argument. 

He smiles, "I can't wait," he drops a hearty kiss to your lips. "Thursday, 7 pm. Want me to pick you up?" 

"Only if you plan on staying the night." 

"That's a yes then." Jesse leaves and you cannot wait for Thursday.

[longassr1de]

Sweetness

Pairing: Jeno × fem!reader

Genre: smut!!, established relationship, domestic??

Word count: ~2k

Summary: What better way to beat the summer heat than with a sweet treat?

⚠️ Warnings: pretty much another pwp, 00 liner smut, food play, ice play(?), fingering, rough and unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving), pet names (moreso relationship-wise though), look..very curious things happen with popsicles okay?, not yet proofread.

A/N: lmk if I missed any warnings or any typos and such! I haven't written in so long or thought up anything this filthy to the point that I even surprised myself with this one.. so much for easier the 00 line content onto this blog. Whoops! Anyway I hope you guys enjoy! xoxo (oh also im currently on mobile so i'll add the read later in a bit, i apologize in advance!!)

It all started out with Jeno being a tease on a hot, hot summer evening. Sure, it was terribly humid out, but the way he kept sucking at the colorful popsicle even when it began to melt down to his slender fingers had you feeling wet heat in a much more personal sense. He held eye contact with you as his lips pulled away from the frozen treat, sinful eyes making it a point to devour the way you intook just a little extra air when he licked at the sticky mess upon his palm.

"Care for a taste?" Jeno offered, his deep voice filled with mirth. That's all it really took for you quickly stride across the room to join him where he'd been sat at the sofa. He tossed the remainder of the popsicle atop its wrapper on the coffee table, instead pulling you into his lap as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You could still taste the cold sweetness on his tongue even as he sucked at yours, biting your bottom lip as his strong embrace loosens in favor of grabbing at your ass.

He thanks the heavens for your wardrobe selection today, your skirt making it so much easier to grind against your pretty little panties. If the wet spot forming on his pants was anything to go by, he'd guess you were just as needy as him if not moreso.

"On your back princess, I wanna try something." Jeno helps you take off your shirt as he lays you onto the leather, straddling over your hips before slowly making his way down to your breasts. He mumbles out praises for your body as his slowly warming mouth licks and sucks at your nipples. He separates from your body, drawing out a whine from your lips, when suddenly his now cold again mouth quickly works them to stiff peaks.

"You like that, baby?" You can only nod at his question, carelessly reaching for his hair, needing something to grab onto as he presses cold kisses across the expanse of your neck down your torso. "You're so sensitive for me, does a little cold make you this wet, hmm?" You blink up at your usually sweet boyfriend, only to find his gaze to be more hungry than playful.

"Answer me, baby? Or have I already fucked you stupid without even touching you?" The loud whine your body automatically let out as a response to his filthy words has you blushing frantically, only serving to further spur Jeno's near-sadistic behavior. "Aww, it's ok princess, there's no need to be embarrassed. You're gonna sound so pretty when you're cumming for me later, I just know it."

Before you know it, your skirt's flipped up to cover your abdomen, and it's near impossible to tear your gaze away from Jeno's fingers and how they seemingly glide across your wet lips. His tongue peeks out to lick at your clit before giving it a harsh suck, pulling back to bite at your thigh with a groan, and you just know he's left you with another blossoming mark. You always make it a point to complain about Jeno's marking habits, but he knew better; after all, he's caught you staring at them in the mirror before when you thought he wasn't home.

Frustrated that you had yet to be properly touched despite all your boyfriend's teasing, crinkling sound catches your attention, only to be met with the sight of Jeno sucking at that damned popsicle again. So much for hoping it was a condom so you'd finally be getting some. "Babe, pleeaaseee," you keen, wiggling your hips before biting at your swollen lower lip, trying to entice your boyfriend, "do something, anything."

"Anything?" But it's more of a statement than a question, as you soon find out. The remainder of your clothing is dragged off your body before the cool touch surprises you, but you're even more surprised to find Jeno fucking a brand new popsicle into your wetness. "Your pussy's gonna be so sticky and sweet for me, can't wait to watch you suck it off me," he all but groans at the mere thought of your heavenly lips sucking him off. The image of Jeno's colorful cum spilling out of you doesn't last long, as the freezing treat demands its presence be known, his tongue simultaneously going back to working at your clit.

Letting out a loud moan of his name, he looks up at you, squeezing you thigh with his free hand to draw your attention back to his face, intense eyes settling upon your teary ones. "Does it feel good, baby? Is it too cold?" You're touched that he's checking up on you, but it's really difficult to form words when his cold digits take over and fuck up into you with fervor.

"Don't stop, don't stop fuck Jeno please don't stop!" Just as you cry out for more, the man in question pulls away from you completely, leaving you high and dry just when it your orgasm was building up around his skilled fingers. Your eyes open to the sight of a shirtless Jeno with his pants and briefs pushed down just enough so that he can fuck up into his hand, giving himself just a hint of relief before moving on to the main event. Complaints die in your throat as you watch Jeno grasp both his leaking cock and the popsicle between his palms, rocking against the length of the sticky mess before once again pushing it into you a handful of times, ultimately discarding it off-handedly in the general direction of the coffee table it had been melting atop. "Think you're ready to take my cock now, princess? Wanna feel how well you take me," mumbling the latter against your lips, already having his tongue nearly down your throat as he aligns his tip, drawing out beautiful, desperate moans when he finally pushes in and sheathes himself inside your wetness to the hilt. You'd never even noticed when the rest of his clothes had gone missing, but you weren't complaining either.

"Fuck Jeno, how do you feel so hot yet so cold at the same time?" you shiver, simultaneously pulling closer and farther from his body, seeking the warmth from his chest while avoiding his freezing hands. He only chuckles at this, kissing further down your jaw before pausing to suck another mark, this time into your sensitive breast. Jeno's cold hands find purchase on your hips despite all your wriggling, bodies quickly warming up as the heat in the room rises on this passionate summer night. His hips work a strong rhythm into your own, pulling lewd melodies from the depths of your chest, raking your nails down his broad back in retaliation for making your things quake.

"Please tell me you're close, because I'm so turned on I can't guarantee I'll outlast you at this rate." The sheepish confession coming from a face that's anything but has you nearly combusting on the spot. His furrowed brows, parted, kiss-swollen lips and strangled groans all adding to your current heightened state of pleasure.

"Just a little more, Jeno I'm so so close. Feels so fucking good, just like tha-at," your eyes roll back as you're speaking and the cockiness that his features don immediately spell trouble. He's found your spot and he is whole heartedly planning to abuse this newfound knowledge. Both of your thighs are pushed up and pinned in place by your chest, his knees digging deeper into the leather; the glint in your boyfriend's dark eyes shining twice as bright in the now-evening glow, vision quickly blurring as his pace picks up considerably. His filthy praises besides your ear only helping your decent further into madness, bucking your hips into his as your nails dig into his shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, good girl, let go for me, come all over my dick, you can do it." As if by magic spell, your release floods your senses, a strangled cry of Jeno's name escaping your weak lips, babbling as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The colorful popsicle residue mixed with your own cum leaks out of you as Jeno pulls out of your warmth, and he stops for a moment to admire the art that would soon be once again ruined by raging hormones.

True to his filthy word, once you've recovered your still-horny lover is quick to lead your head between his legs, making sure you wouldn't forget the real sticky treat he'd made sure to save you a taste of. "Your mouth feels so good, so good, all for me, yeah?" he coos down at your form, blissed out as he enjoys the view.

It's his turn to be surprised however, when you pull off his cock to wink up at him, seductively murmuring for him to use you for his own release and fuck your throat. Not one that needs to be told twice, Jeno cups your cheeks as he holds you in place, slowly slipping into your mouth once again. He stops to make sure you're sure, asking if you're okay every time you whine or gag around him, not wanting to hurt you either.

Once you reassure him you're fine and start moving of your own accord, the loudest moan you've ever heard from Jeno to date spilling out, his head thrown back in sheer pleasure from the delicious sensation. You have all but a minute's worth of the upper hand before feline eyes are back on your own, silently asking for permission to begin moving his hips. Your silent response comes in the way your hands come up to his hips, ready to stop him if you needed to come up for air. A mere three thrusts in and Jeno is doubling over, sweet and filthy words coming out slurred as he's drunk off the feeling of your thigh throat around his length. "I'm so fucking close, oh my god," Jeno's ragged voice manages to rasp out, bucking wildly as you gag around his thick dick. "Gonna cum down your throat princess, yes or no?" He tugs at your hair to get your attention, briefly stilling his fidgeting hips. Your moan of an answer and the way you claw at his thighs to brace yourself being all the nonverbal cues he needs before he pulls out, sensitive tip all the way at your lips again, and you take in a deep breath just before he pushes back in so deep you feared you wouldn't be able to take it, the evidence of white, hot pleasure coating your throat in stripes.

Rather than the usual salty tang of Jeno's cum, the sweetness of the popsicle and taste of your own essence remaining the dominant taste on your tongue. You lick at your sticky lips as Jeno slowly pulls away from your mouth, hissing at how sensitive he is after such a powerful orgasm. He lays back before pulling you with him to lie over his chest, uncaring for the sweaty sheen adorning your bodies in favor of the peaceful embrace of your love. Many peppered kisses and high praises later, Jeno gently turns to press a lingering kiss atop your head, softly calling your name to beckon your gaze.

He breaks the silence by asking, "What do you say about trying whipped cream next time?"

"Sounds... sweet," you retort, much to Jeno's chagrin. At times like this he could easily see why his friends made fun of you two for your sense of humor. But for as much as he teased, he knew he would always be twice as in love with you as he ever claimed to be. And that.. was pretty sweet indeed.

[courageouslyfearless]

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Genre: Fantasy AU

Pairing: Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Requested Tags: @itsbaekhyunsbutt​ @strawbaeri-s​ @bbyunz​

| Part 1 |

The Kingdom of Akron had changed drastically in a few months time. When news from the royal court spread through the lands asking the elves to come back home, most of them hesitated. It must be a trick, they thought, the queen must be up to something. Baekhyun knew better. The queen's sudden change of heart was Y/N's doing. She had written the happy ending she had promised. "Happy" was relative. He was content that he could ask his people to come back to Akron, begging them to trust this to be real and not some sort of plot. But deep down, Baekhyun was devastated, as this was only possible because of a woman he was never going to see again. He did his best to push these thoughts to the back of his mind so he could get through his days. But he couldn't chase away the memories that plagued his brain at night. He questioned his own sanity often; he missed her so. More often than not, he dreamed of her as well. It was his own personal prison, inside his head.

It was getting burdensome for him to pretend he wasn't completely and utterly heartbroken. His people looked up to him for guidance, he couldn't afford to show his weaknesses. But truthfully, he was finding it difficult to care as well. So eventually he made one of the toughest choices he's ever had to make; he resigned from his position as ruler of the elves, to someone far more capable, his best friend and mightiest warrior in their army, Chanyeol.

After the crowning ceremony, as his people  celebrated, he had tried to make a quiet exit from the festivities. Elves enjoyed drinking ale and playing dangerous games once inebriated. He wasn't in the mood to play them. Unfortunately, as he worked his way through the people, he kept being stopped by folks who wanted to thank him for bringing them home and ruling them after his father's death. He waved their words away, simply responding with "I didn't do much." Which was the truth, he hadn't actually done much, but he couldn't tell them that. So he kept pushing his way through to leave but once he was almost out, Chanyeol appeared in front of him. Baekhun sighed.

"I just need to get out," he said, looking up at his tall friend, hoping he'd understand.

Chanyeol's eyes studied the prince with careful thought.

"You're leaving, aren't you? It wasn't just about ruling, you don't want to be in Akron."

Baekhyun was surprised that his friend had read him so well. He gave him a small smile.

"That was a pretty good guess," he started, then his smile faded, "Everything about this place reminds me of her. I can't do it anymore. I'm going back to the mountains. I heard there's still a group of elves staying there because they don't trust the Queen. I will try to convince them that it is safe to come back." An excuse he knew, but it felt better to think of his journey as a mission and not as him giving up and running away from the memory of her.

Chanyeol read the truth in his face as clear as if he were telling him. "If that's what you need to do to feel better then do it. But you've never been a man that loses hope. Not once have I seen you surrender. Why start now?"

"What are you trying to tell me, Chanyeol? I told you there's nothing I can do. She's gone... forever." That last part hurt to say, he almost felt like he couldn't breathe every time the truth hit him.

"You were set on keeping her here once, remember? You searched high and low for a spell to do it. Then finding the ingredients," Chanyeol shuddered at the memory, "getting the troll's heart was some nasty business," he shook his head, "anyways, what I'm trying to say is, you found a way once. If you really can't live without her, then do it again. Just find another way."

Baekhyun stared at his friend. Could he do it? Could he defy the laws of nature.

"I used up all the magic," he said, defeated.

Chanyeol groaned, exasperated, "Magic doesn't just vanish from existence. It's all around us, in the trees, in the river, in every fiber and molecule of life, there is magic. It is sown into the very essence of the world. You just have to learn how to harness it. I'd start with the nymphs, if I were you."

Baekhyun thought about it. He had nothing to lose by trying. He was set on leaving Akron anyways, why not leave with some hope as company?

Finally, he smiled. At this, Chanyeol was relieved, because it was the most genuine smile he'd seen from him since he lost her. He took this as a good sign.

"Now go get your princess."

~

Meanwhile, you were wrestling with the tape that had sealed and kept safe your possessions inside the cardboard boxes. Unpacking had become quite the chore as you couldn't find the box cutter or literally anything with an edge to cut through the tape. Your new apartment looked like a war zone and you expected to come out as the victor. If only you could find something to...

"Keys, of course!"

You grabbed your set of keys dangling from the hook by the door and searched through the label on the boxes to find the ones that you wanted to open first. The one with "bedroom" written on it with a black sharpie caught your eye first. After cutting through the tape, you opened it to go through your belongings. It was mostly books and novels. You smiled, that is, until you spotted a familiar blue cover with stars on it. Your dream journal. You hadn't opened it since... well, since that time. Writing after losing him was unthinkable. There was no way you could ever write another character to life, let alone love them as you had loved him.

You reached for it now with trembling hands and a racing heart. The journal was in pretty bad shape. You had tried getting rid of it once, throwing it in a lake during your spring break vacation, hoping the tightness in your chest would subside. Watching it sink under did the opposite. You had rushed into the water to save it. To save him. Or the memory of him. That afternoon you hurried back home, to find a way to dry and save it from being completely ruined. As painful as it was, you didn't want to forget him. He wasn't part of the real world, but he was real to you.

You opened it now, for the first time, flicking through the wrinkled pages. It was still readable but only to you, the one who had written every word and sentence on it. The tightness in your chest had become a permanent resident and you no longer let it have that much control over you. You ignored it this time as well.

With tears burning in your eyes you started reading. Akron. The Queen. Baekhyun. You smiled at the part where you guys met.

The dress was too revealing, you worried, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You kept pulling up at the fabric over your bust , hoping it would show less cleavage. Your maidens hovered about with jewelry and powders and anything that could make you look more regal. The shortest one, with the dazzling smile and gentle fingers, placed a gold crown on your head. You weren't used to the weight of it. It felt awkward. You thought it made you feel off balance.

Three knocks at the door announced a new visitor.

"Come in," with the words, you also breathe in deeply, maybe a little too quickly as you become dizzy from the action. Your're still in a daze when he walks in.

Plain brown pants. Plain brown tunic. And that's all that is plain about him.

As you finally fix your eyes on his face, your heartbeat picks up its pace. His smile was the first thing that drew you in. It was playful and kind at the same time. You were confused as to how he managed that. His eyes were an ordinary brown at first glance, but the way they held your gaze was anything short of extraordinary. It felt like he could see right through you all the way down to your soul, where you kept the most private things about yourself hidden. You found yourself at a loss for words and at the widening of his smile you knew he could tell he had an effect on you.

"Your majesty," he finally spoke, "my name is Baekhyun, I was told I will have the pleasure of working as your servant from this day onward."

You will never forget the way he spoke then. As if he knew you, your heart and he was ready to take it for himself. You should've known then that he'd succeed. How could he not? He was confident, funny, kind and sometimes a little naughty as well. There was nothing predictable about him. He challenged you almost every occasion he could.

There was only one time you could recall when he was none of these things. Just one time, when his confidence left his shoulders, and his  eyes couldn't seem to find yours. You remember how quiet his voice was as he reached with trembling fingers to hold your hand for the first time. You'd been crying, reminiscing the scene at home. Your parents had been arguing. But the situation had escalated quickly. Words turned into shoving, shoving turned into objects being thrown. The next thing you saw was your mom slide across the dining room floor and into the kitchen, her body hitting the refrigerator. She'd dislocated her arm from the force. You were compelled to go to the hospital with her and lie about how she got hurt. They always made you lie for them. Once back home you'd had to clean up the broken glass and the blood stains on the floor from someone's bare feet who had walked over it.

He'd cried with you as you told him, holding you in his arms like you were his to hold. And you let him, because when everything in your world felt wrong, the warmth of his embrace was the only thing that felt right. His strength was the only thing keeping you together. Just that once did he hesitate. Only that time did he hold back. The next time you dreamed of him, he stole his first kiss from your lips. He never hesitated after that.

So how could you have stopped the beautiful force of nature that was Baekhyun from taking your heart? Just as the sun comes out every day and the moon reflects its light at night, just as everything that happens without fail, it was inevitable to fall in love with him.

But now all that was left of him was this dreadful looking journal and the memories in your head, which will wither away with time until you question if it even happened at all. His eyes will fade like the ink of your favorite purple pen on these wrinkled pages. His smile will become jaded by reality, distorted by the smudged words on a piece of paper. But the worst part was that if he felt for you as he had confessed the last time that you were together, then he was feeling as hopeless and heartbroken as you were. That thought made you sadder than anything else.

You closed the journal gently, as to not cause more damage to it. Then you walked to your room and stored it in the top drawer of the night stand by your bed. You needed to stay focused on the task at hand, which was to unpack everything still stored away in boxes. Pushing thoughts of him out of mind, you went back to work.

Once you are more or less done putting away the stuff in the kitchen, you lay down on the carpeted floor of the small living room. You had no furniture for this space yet, so it was empty. You closed your eyes slowly as they had become heavy with exhaustion. You knew if you kept it up for too long, you'd fall asleep right there. That's how tired you were. So instead, you force yourself to stand up. You decided to take a warm bath and then head out to bed.

You rarely did nice things for yourself, but candles had always been a frivolous need of yours. You lit one in the bathroom as you watched the tub fill up. Once the water was high enough, you undressed and got in the tub. You laid down, resting your head back on the wall as the candle spread the sweet aroma of coconut sunrise in the air.

At this level of relaxation, it doesn't take long for you to drift off into a soft dream.

You were surrounded by tall trees that towered over you like some kind of mythical giants. You glanced up at them, wondering if they would suddenly come to life. They didn't, but the thought that in a dream it was possible, kept you alert to your surroundings. Looking away from them, your gaze comes down to what's in front of you, a vast lake. There were tiny lights shimmering over the water, flying into the air and swirling in perfect unison like small tornadoes. It took you a few seconds to realize they weren't lights.

"Fairies," you whispered. But as if they had heard you speak, they stopped moving, and this made it easier to see their tiny little wings flapping to keep them in the air. You kept quiet and eventually they continued their flight ritual.

"Pixies, actually."

Your heart stopped. Literally, skipped a beat, painfully reminding you that it was still in your chest.

You recognized the voice. You'd know it anywhere. But you were afraid of looking back. You were afraid of hoping it was him and not see his face. You hadn't dreamed of him since the pen incident. So you stayed like that, frozen in place, fear rooting you to that spot.

After a few seconds passed by, you felt it. A hand, resting on your arm, the touch light as a feather, bringing goosebumps across your skin.

"You said writing was the only thing getting you through tough times, how have you survived this long without it?"

You took a deep breath, still unable to move but ready to respond anyways.

"I can't write another you."

That was all you could say. You knew he'd understand the implication of your words. You couldn't risk loving anyone else. You couldn't risk forgetting him. Or replacing him. You wanted your heart to be his and no one else's.

"Then write me again. Write about all the moments we should've lived together. Write me into life."

What was he saying? Why did he want you to torture yourself by writing about him?

"But it hurts," you find yourself saying, tears welling up under your eyes.

"I know, princess, I know. But I need you to write me as if I was never gone."

You turned around then, half expecting to find him standing there, but you were met by a rush of wind that carried his last words as a whisper.

"Write me."

You woke up from the dream in a start, looking around your bathroom like he might appear there from thin air. But as reality set in, your heart sank. Of course he would never be there. Even in the dream you couldn't see him. You brushed away a stray tear from your cheek. He wanted you to write him. About him. You didn't know if it was really him or just your brain playing games with you again, but it was the only sign you'd received from him in months. You wanted to believe it was really him. Your broken heart needed to hope it was him.

So that night you wrote him. Every detail. Every habit. Every look. The way that his lips taste. The hint of gold in his eyes when sunlight washed over his face. The feel of his hand on your cheek. Anything that you could remember about him.

You also wrote about moments that never happened. You wrote him as someone who walked in the real world, facing your kind of problems. Working a 9 to 5 to pay the bills. Running to the corner store to get you that chocolate ice cream you'd been craving since the week started. Eating ramen several times a week when money was tight. Sitting on the couch, the T.V. on in the background as he watched your face  instead of the screen. You wrote about anything you could think of. Anything that you wished you could do with him. You painted his image with vivid and ordinary description, because you wished to live the simplest and most common every day moments with him.

You lost track of time again, as you often did when you were writing. Your hand ached by the time you stopped. You could feel the beginnings of a blister on your middle finger from where you'd been holding the pen with fierce purpose. The shot of adrenaline that hearing his voice gave you had fueled you for hours. But now exhaustion was pulling at your eyelids, making it hard to keep them open. With a sigh, you laid down in bed and hid your body under the covers. You fell asleep then, staring at the ceiling, hugging your journal close to your chest and with a wish in your mind to meet him in your dreams again.

But no such thing happen. You had a dreamless and uneventful night. When you woke up, it was from the sunlight hitting your face because in your tiredness you had forgotten to close the blinds to your windows.

"Stupid sun," you mumbled at your pillow. Covering you face with a blanket to give your eyes time to adjust to the brightness.

"What did the sun ever do to you, princess?"

You froze. Literally, stopped moving in your bed at the sound of his voice.

I've finally lost it, you thought, I've finally lost my mind.

That must be the only explanation. His voice, had been so clear it almost sounded like he was next to you. Writing about him last night must have driven you over the edge. You laughed at yourself and where your imagination had taken you. It wasn't funny, but still you laughed, because there was nothing left for you but to do so, or you'd end up in tears.

"I missed your laugh," you heard the voice again.

This time you didn't laugh. You couldn't. The voice was closer and with the tone you were able to visualize what his face would look like as he spoke. He'd be cupping your face in his hands, his eyes holding yours as if to project his honesty through that one look. It was such a beautiful image the one in your brain, that you could couldn't move to confront it. If you indeed had lost your mind, at least you'd have his words to keep you company.

"Y/N." This was the second time you had ever hear him call you by your name and upon hearing it, your heart did somersaults. You pulled the blanket down, ever so slowly, afraid of meeting an empty space besides you.

But it wasn't empty. Baekhyun laid there, on the side of the bed that was always unoccupied. Until now.

You felt your eyes widening, but you couldn't open your mouth to speak. You didn't know what to say. You were speechless.

Baekhyun smiled as you stared at him. Reaching a hand to touch your face. His touch was warm against your skin. You almost closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation, but you were afraid that he'd be gone when you opened your eyes again. So you kept staring at him, but finally found the will to speak.

"Is this a dream?"

He smiled wider, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he moved closer to you. He only stopped when his face was an inch away from yours. Your breath caught in your throat with the proximity. He was so close you caught a whiff of a woodsy scent that you remembered as exclusively his from your time in Akron.

"Baek-"

Before you could finish saying his name, he trapped your lips with his in a kiss. You didn't want to close your eyes. You didn't want to end the fantasy. But he kissed you fervently and you found yourself losing the will quickly as you kissed him back as desperately. His hand moved under the blanket that covered you and found your waist, pulling your body closer from there until it was completely against his.

As quickly as he started the fire, as swift he was about putting it out when he stopped kissing you. You almost whined in protest and he chuckled in response.

"Does that feel real enough to you?" he asked.

You opened your eyes to meet his beautiful brown ones. The sun was hitting them just the right amount and you could see your reflection in them. You pressed a hand to his face, touching him for the first time.

"How is this possible?" You wanted to ask other questions too, but this was the most important one. "You told me... you told me you used all the magic in Akron. That I would never return once I left."

He smiled, that smile of his that you loved. The one that made him look years younger than he is. His playful smile. "There is always more magic to be found and to be created. A friend reminded me of that. You couldn't come back to me, so I came to you instead."

Your heart was beating so fast that you wondered how it didn't just stop working. There was no way it was healthy for it do that every time you were with Baekhyun. You were still confused and he was being very vague.

"But how did you do it?" you pressed.

He reached for your hand, the one still touching his face and intertwined your fingers with a look of awe in his eyes.

"I didn't. You did," he paused, his gaze meeting yours, "you actually wrote me to life".

You thought he must be kidding, so you waited for the punchline. But his one never came. He was serious.

"I did what?!"

He smiled at you with so much fondness, seeing you as confused as you were.

"You wrote me to life, Y/N. First in your dreams and now here."

"You're real? Like real real?" you knew you sounded idiotic, but it was something hard to wrap your head around.

Baekhyun was a character to a story that you poured a lot of love and time into. Some writers like to say that their characters have a life of their own. But it's just an expression, it's supposed to mean they basically write themselves. They come without effort. But what he is saying is very different. What he is saying sounds so incredibly crazy yet wonderful and though you don't want to let yourself feel hopeful, a seed had taken root in your heart. A seed that you hoped would bloom into reality, a reality where you could live a life of happiness with the one you love.

You knew he could see it on your face, what you were thinking and what you were feeling. So he finally stopped being cryptic.

"I am real. While you wrote me and created a connection between me and the real world, I had one created from Akron to here. The field with the lake where I spoke to you last night, well, the water pixies conjured a portal from our side and you fabricated one from this side, through your journal. Now I can come and go as long as you don't destroy the journal."

He was being truthful, not a note of humor in his expression. You couldn't believe it. It was something out of a fantasy novel. Before you knew it, tears were clouding your vision. Baekhyun reacted as quickly as usual, out of pure instinct, arm draped protectively around your body. You hid your face in the crook of his neck to hide your crying face from him.

"I can't believe I get to live with you." You words are strained with emotion, but you say them anyways.

"I can't believe I get to love you," he says in return. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you forever." His voice cracked at the end. This made you pull back to look at his face. You were surprised to see him crying as well. You knew his pain and that sense of loss because you had felt it yourself.

"Baekhyun." You didn't know what else to say.

"I love you, princess. In Akron and here, in a world I know nothing about."

You smiled at this. The most genuine smile you had ever smiled before. You finally let yourself think about a future with him, because for the first time, it was possible.

"I love you too. I can't wait to teach you all about it. There's a lot you'll love and... well, like you told me once, it's not all rainbows and butterflies."

He smiled at that and you did as well.

Overcome with emotion you kiss him again. Because you can. Because you thought you would never get to do it again. You kiss him and he kisses you back. You both try to project how much love and devotion you have for each other. Your love is literally one from stories. Made up. But more real than anything you had ever experienced in your life. And now you will get to live it and test it and maybe even get that happy ending people like to dream about.

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* Masterlist *

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A/N: So that came out very meh. But also I always think that about the stuff I write so it’s probably me being a perfectionist. Anyways, hope you still enjoyed it! Thank you so much for the support and love you showed for this random idea I had that turned into this story. Love you guys!

[wizzycore]

Nonhuman Showdown Round 3

Why you should vote for each of them and full art below!

Wood/Woodie/Woodrow (species: construct, by @aberrantparadox, art by @kurofae)

"Woodrow isn't a human, and Woodie isn't a person, though they do like to roleplay as one. Are they cool? What are they? They aren't even sure. Woodie, Woodrow.... they're not even the being's names, simply names extrapolated from the common answer they give to the question of they are ("....uhm....I'm wood"). They're human shaped but not human looking, with a human heart but not human emotions, they're a machine in a literal sense but also a metaphorical one as they do do their duty as told, but they're also doing it of their free will - theyre certainly a thinking person but they aren't. It would be wrong though to say they're looking for real personhood, though, or to be utterly rid of personhood also - they're searching for something beyond that, and beyond the spiral too, they think. Something like the jungle of stardust they always see in their "dreams".

There's the factual part - as in, they're a wood mannequin made by Merle Ambrose to fight off Malistaire and other threats. Well, they're actually just plucked from Golem Tower and altered. Their concept was brought up before Malistaire went rogue, and then abandoned. Woodie is the golem, and the magic possessing it, and the heart of the fallen champion of Bartleby, and the heads. He is also none of these at any given time. It isn't his heart - it lives in their chest cavity with all their gears, things that belong to them, indubitably, and is theirs, as much as their heads are or aren't.

Their heads - each professor made a different swappable head distinctly tuned to their school of magic, so that their new champion could perfectly and easily master all the schools. They're necessary to channel the magic inherent in other tools, for someone/thing who otherwise has no magic within them. Each head feels different to use for Woodrow, gives different consequences and a different mindset, but the spirit doesn't become different beings, unless you define a being by its personality and magical energy - a common definition. Woodrow leaves it open. They can see out of any of the heads, or all at the same time, having 7-fold (and eventually 9-fold) vision. They don't need any attached to their body to move, think, or function, but they do need them to cast spells, and when in the field its better to keep at least one head attached just in case. Their weird sight also lets them see stranger things, like invisible beings, currents of magic, and other phenomena. They can't gape at any of that though, because they don't have a face, and they wouldnt anyway, because they came into the world that way and none of this is surprising. But it is a bit lonely.

Feelings are difficult when youre made of wood and don't have human sensations. Most emotions Woodie experiences are muted and overlaid with boredom or a sort of diffuse nothingness. But occasionally they do feel something properly, and that is the most vast thing in the world to them. They deeply care about other beings and will readily use violence to keep the majority safe. They're unsympathetic to those who hurt others out of hurt, but aren't cruel. Every being, secure in their self, breathing with lungs and gills and magic, even the evil ones, are a wonder to Woodrow, and like the person who once had his-but-not-his heart, protecting those beings in their perfect imperfection - just to look at them - just to look at them, it's everything, just to look at them...."

Quinn Soulthorn (species: dryad, by @sentient-cloud)

"Quinn Soulthorn, a dryad of one of those spooky death trees that seem to be everywhere. He grew up in Avalon’s Wyrd over the corpse of one an unlucky member of the wild hunt, the spine of which makes up his harp, along with his own wood. He’s delighted to be allowed into Ravenwood and learn about the world outside of the Wyrd, even if he’s still really learning how people work. He’s not beating the unseelie allegations.

People tend to find him off putting. He’s far too eager to tell people about the beauty and inevitability of death, and he brings a kind of “stop raising so much undead you’re disturbing the role decomposition plays in the perpetual cycle of existence” vibe the other necromancers don’t like. Merle is especially wary of him, after all, was the Wyrd not the source of the horned crown that damned Avalon and introduced his pupil to Shadow magic in the first place?

He’s doing his best, he isn’t as oblivious to people’s hesitancy towards him as some may think. Additional fun facts: his pet “ghulture” is an undead Avalon crow that hung around the spooky death tm graveyard he popped up in. Whenever he takes root he leaves behind a mushroom circle. He even has trans swag. TtM (tree to male)"

[afoxysunny]

Robbie as Bullock

This post will probably differ from the others in structure and be a lot longer for one big reason

When choosing Miraculous for the Lazytown characters i really wanted to only use ones that we've already seen in use in Miraculous Ladybug and know how they work from there.

For Robbie i broke that rule. I don't really remember what first made me consider it but it probably had to do with the fact that i think the Ox Miraculous, just aesthetically, would fit Robbie perfectly!

So for this one i had to start from scratch completely, no reference for a canon hero design, no idea what power or weapon he'd get, no clue what the phrase to transform could be.

Of cause i used the most references for him but here are the ten i found most important

Obviously i don't expect any of my speculations to become even remotely canon once we find out what Stompp, the Ox Miraculous, actually does but i hope it at least makes sense for now.

I like how I've drawn all the others standing head on to face the camera and Robbie just leans there. That's because you have to think he doesn't care, the little Tsundere

Concept Overview:

In the Miraculous Ladybug episode we meet all the Kwamis, including Stompp, he is the most actively concerned about Nooroo so now that the Butterfly Kwami is back I'm sure Stompp would want to stay around him. With Sportacus partnering with Nooroo, teaming up Robbie and Stompp made the most sense to them.

Design Notes Incoherent Thoughts I had to justify what I'm Drawing:

Purple and Blue - it amused me no end that with the choices i made blue Sportacus got a purple Kwami and purple Robbie got a blue kwami. I did kinda dislike at first how little blue the costume has in comparison to purple but i decided i don't have to make a decision because apparently the canon show can't make up its mind about Stompp's colour either. The blue and purple can always be swapped if i decide i don't like it

Harness - Ox' are hard working animals, mostly used to pull heavy objects. For that purpose they get strapped into a harness. Obviously i had to include that in this design, the chain hanging from the collar around his neck has a similar purpose (it only occured to me way too late how kinky it looks please ignore that)

Cape? No cape? - because of the imbalance in colours i briefly considered giving him a cape like a Matador would have but only for a second or so. I wanted to keep Robbie's iconic body shape untouched by a bunky cape, also the few times he wore a cape in the show he really struggled with it and also i think it would've clashed with the tail

Tail - speaking of which, an ox' tail has that frizzy end to it but i really liked the chain as his tail so to emulate the thicker part at the end i hung a padlock there. And that really worked. Not only bc that's just how bulls and ox are kept in check with their strength but also because the oblong shape of a combination lock makes for a fitting shape and can be used in universe. You see, Robbie is not that good with just saying what he wants or expressing how he feels. This four letter combination lock is magic and kinda betrays and helps him at the same time. It spells out any given four letter word that fits his mood best at any given moment

Miraculous Nosering - if a Lazytown character would unironically get a nosering, it'd be Robbie. I'm sorry, i don't take criticism on that

Horns - he needed horns. He just did. Look how good he looks with horns! But for real, in Miraculous Ladybug Chat Noir gets actual cat ears so he can get actual horns, also like Chat he the white parts of his eyes turn yellow like Stompp's while keeping his signature grey iris

Hair - ox' are mostly shown with like bangs covering their eyes so i couldn't resist ruffling his usually so perfectly done hair up to make it fall a little like that

Weapon - my first thought of "Miraculous takes cliché traits for animals to base their powers on so i guess bullfighting is the way to go here" made me really sad. This "Sport" is so disgusting i wanted to cry and puke while reading about it. I'll spare you the details but in addition to the Matador in the arena there's other guys too to weaken the bull before the Matador kills it, one of them throws knives. Miraculous Ladybug likes combining weapons with toys so I'm giving him darts. They are fastened to the front of his harness and i think how they can be used is along the lines of, once he zhrows them with his super strength and they pin into something they can only be removed when he allows that, also like the ladybug's jojo they can fly how long and whatever direction he wants, and probably also is able to just manifest them back to himself if ever one gets lost

Miraculous Power - again, just pure speculation here, but the powers we so far know of are all loosely based on an exaggerated cartoon trope of each animal so for the ox that is hard working and persistent and for the bull that'd be aggression and tunnel vision. While typing this i get the urge to add blinders to his mask but i digress. So i made up an exaggerated power that'd fit both but when i told my test group (two people) one said "oh, kinda like Bloodhound from Apex Legends" and the ozher said "so like hunter's mark from DnD" i play neither so i don't know but maybe you do do that's the short version of the explanation xD his power is based on the cartoonish depiction of a bull seeing something that bothers him and then charging at it for as long as he can until he gets it. Once Robbie focuses on an enemy or someone running away or someone he is following for whatever reason he can use his power to keep track of them. No matter how far away they go or where they try to hide. It sounds OP as shit but think of the Snake and Bunny who can both time travel and then say that again. The catch is he needs to use it while that person is still in clear sight for him so i think it balances a little better

Name:

Do you know the difference between a Bull and an Ox? Well, let me mansplain it to you anyway

The reason i kept switching between drawing inspiration from bulls and ox' is because it's the same animal. Those are both names for an adult male cow. The only difference being that an ox is castrated and a bull is not. Stompp is the Ox Miraculous so tough nuts Robbie, literally. But making babies isn't really on his to do list anyway with Sportacus as his partner so who cares.

Anyway, I had the design done and like always i struggled a lot with naming it

But then i learned a Bullock is not only a cool word that seems to be a mix of bull and lock like his design is but it also is the official name of a male cow too young to be castrated yet! Isn't that just perfect? I think it is

Also I'll include in this section the phrases one needs to speak to have Stompp transform them into this Ox themed Superhero and for the power to activate. If you think of something more fitting for either please let me know!

Transformation:

simple version - horns up / horns down

More detailed - time to charge / time to loaf

(charging is when a bull starts running blindly at something; loafing is the professional farmer term for a resting cow)

Power: Target Charge, Locked On, or my personal favorite option Head-On. Again going with the more in depth terminology, that's what the running style of a bull is called when he's chatging at a target

Story:

Robbie lived in Lazytown but when the kids grew louder and older and he got more annoyed wih not having his peace and quiet he just up and left. He spent a lot of time traveling around, living wherever it was comfortable and leaving when it wasn't anymore. Thanks to being an inventor and overall talanted crafty person he got by pretty easily as there was always a company running on "hire a lazy person for an important job, they'll find the easiest solution for the most complicated problems" so he never really had to worry.

Whether by coincidence or fate Robbie and Sportacus run into each other and despite Robbie being a little difficult they both immediately feel strangely drawn to one another. With time going by they meet more often, at first more or less by chance but eventually they plan to meet up regularly. They might have very different ways of doing it but they share a common lifestyle: helping out others to live a comfortable and fulfilling life.

Only after Sportacus was chosen to be the new Guardian of the Miracle Box he finally asks Robbie to join him, full time by his side traveling in his airship around the world wherever they may be needed. Of cause only for moral support and such, obviously. You see, they always enjoyed each others company and sort of over time eased into a relationship like coexistence but neither of them ever really acknowledged that. Only when Sportacus got Nooroo's power to sense other people's feelings that barrier of miscommunication fully fell. Robbie is incredibly bad with conveying his emotions but now Sportacus can sense that he has potentially the most powerful and purest emotions he ever encountered. Not only is each feeling of his powerful but when there is more than one at play they don't mix together and muddy each other but instead boost even more. He knew before that he wanted Robbie to join him but that discovery made it a necessity.

Despite not being able to actually say so Robbie is thrilled to come along. Only over time and with a lot of painfully slow conversations they manage to agree to make their relationship official.

Stompp, the sassy Ox Kwami, regularly bursts out of the Miracle Box to want to check on Nooroo and slowly he and Robbie bond over telling Sportacus and Nooroo to go easier on themselves and let a little responsibility get taken off their shoulders so eventually they team up and Bullock is created.

Thanks to Robbie's hard work to better himself with Sportacus' help, Stompp's magic transformation provides him with a tail that conveys his feelings for him.

When they hear that Lazytown has been wiped clean of grown-ups Sportacus immediately flies them over there so Robbie can check on his hometown. Finding only a few children, now teens, left there Robbie recognizes them and the two form the plan to give them Miraculous' too so they can help to find their lost family, friends and neighbors and fight together to bring them back.

Wow that was so much to read and you did it! I'm so impressed and thankful! You deserve a pat on the back (if you want one) and a cookie and/or sportscandy on your way out

[nightmaresart]

"Everybody has a chapter they dont read outloud"

It's funny how it all goes down

Don't be sorry when it comes around

I'm like, "Oh my god, I think it's karma"

Ain't it funny how it all adds up

When you're always tryna push your luck?

I'm like, "Oh my god, I think it's karma"

Karma - Marina

Name: Kelvin Johnson

Nicknames: Kel, Kev, Kevvie

Birthday: 26-09

Blood status: Half-Blood

Nationality: British

House: Ravenclaw

Magical abilities: Metamorphmagus

Metamorphmagus: A Metamorphmagus is a Witch ot Wizard with the rare ability to change their physical appearance through sheer will alone, without the need of Polyjuice Potion or a spell like most of the wizarding population.

Patronus: A Honduran White Bat

Wand: Pear, Unicorn hair core, 13 ½ inches

Pear: This golden-toned wood produces wands of splendid magical powers, which give of their best in the hands of the warm-hearted, the generous and the wise. Possessors of pear wands are, in my experience, usually popular and well-respected. I do not know of a single instance where a pear wand has been discovered in the possession of a Dark witch or wizard. Pear wands are among the most resilient, and I have often observed that they may still present a remarkable appearance of newness, even after many years of hard use.

Unicorn hair: Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard. Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may 'die' and need replacing.

Personality: He is a calm and collected boy who doesn't always like to talk. Be can be extremely shy and has trouble with properly understanding people and their emotions. Which can lead to some conflicts, but he never means any harm. He just needs alot of time to warm up to people and then you'll see his silly and louder side come out. He just needs to be sure people won't judge him for who he is.

Myers Briggs Type: INFP

Sexuality/Gender identity: Homosexual, Fluid but male

History:

Born to a single mother, Kelvin has alot of respect for the woman who raised him

From a very young age it was already pretty obvious that this boy was a Metamorphmagus, his mom discovered it when he changed his hair colour to match the one of hers

Kelvin had a pretty carefree childhood, he could do whatever he liked and never really pushed his mother's boundaries

At the age of 9 he began to ask about his dad, because he had read some books and they always depicted a family to consist of a mom, dad and child, his mother told him that his father had vanished, which was a lie

Kelvin never asked about his dad again and just continued to do what he did before

At the age of 11 he got his Hogwarts letter and was a little confused by it all, but with his mother's encouragement he went anyway

Arriving at Hogwarts he was nervous, so many new faces and so many new things to learn and see, it was a bit too much for the young boy

He got sorted in Ravenclaw and eventually made a couple of good friends

Other facts:

Depending on his mood he will change his whole appearance, even his gender appearance

Even though Kelvin is biologically male and he used he/him most of the time, there are days he will refer to himself as They/Them and just roll with it

His hair changes colour to reflect his emotions, but this only happens whenever the emotion he is feeling is really strong

The tattoos on their body are actually real and not something he has made himself with his metamorphmagi

Sometimes they like to wear skirts and dresses, even if some may find this weird, but they never wear it outside of their dormitory

His original hair and eye colour are black and brown, he just didn't really like the way it looked so he changed it up

He wears gloves to cover up the tattoos in his palms, he is not the most comfortable with showing them to strangers

He has a tongue piercing but its small enough that people won't notice it until they're really close to his face and are looking in to his mouth

Drawn appearance:

If you want your hpma mc to be added on his friends list feel free to message me and ill add them!!