#house of M redone

[baronessvonglitter]

Daddy Can Fix It

handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️

Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"He can come clean my pipes anytime."

Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.

You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.

When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."

Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.

"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.

You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.

"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."

"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.

"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.

Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."

"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.

"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."

The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."

"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.

"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.

You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.

That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.

You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.

"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.

"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.

"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.

"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.

Daddy Can Fix It

You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.

You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"

Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.

"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"

"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."

"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.

"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"

You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."

Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"

"Eleven sounds perfect."

"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.

His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.

Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.

He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.

"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.

You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.

"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.

Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.

How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.

You aren't even sure you love him anymore.

But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.

He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.

You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."

He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."

"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."

"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.

Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.

"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.

You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.

"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.

You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.

"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.

Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"

Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."

Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"

You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"

"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.

"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."

"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."

Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.

"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."

"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.

"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."

"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."

"And everyone else at the book club?"

"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"

No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.

He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.

And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?

You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.

A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.

The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.

Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.

Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.

"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"

Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."

"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."

He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."

"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."

His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.

"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.

Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.

"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"

Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..

A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.

"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.

Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.

You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.

Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."

He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.

"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."

You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.

Joel is fucking hung.

You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.

Thank God I did my yoga this week.

You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.

He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.

"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.

His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.

"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.

When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.

It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.

Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.

His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.

"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."

Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy."

"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."

"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.

"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."

"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.

"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.

He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.

It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.

"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.

"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.

"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.

It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.

"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.

"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.

"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.

"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.

"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."

Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.

"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."

He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.

"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."

The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.

"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.

"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"

"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."

He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."

His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.

He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."

"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.

"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"

"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.

"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.

The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.

Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.

"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.

He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."

"Like what?" you ask slowly.

He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.

"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.

"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.

He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"

dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑

tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors

[cupcraft]

Based on my own experiences with many emotionally abusive PI's and also being groomed by one, I wanted to make a list of things to look out for. I am speaking from my own experiences, but I do think it's important. I hope this helps you, for any fellow people in stem, in academia, in research, or in university. Some of the examples I use are ones I have either experienced personally, I know people who have experienced similar, or ones I thought of based on my experience.

Professors should communicate with you over email primarily, or school/work approved channels. It can be a red flag if they use your personal number to contact you and especially if they show anger or feel threatened you try to keep the conversations over safe channels (like your school email).

Professors should not be contacting you about personal things, asking you to be their emotional support system, asking you personal questions, love bombing you, talking to you "like a friend", etc. It is important your mentor keeps a professional boundary between you and them when you are their direct employee or student. I say this because I realize some people may say "Ever since I've graduated I am close and good friends with my old PI/professor", but what I am talking about is when you are their student and the professional boundaries are blurred and crossed. For example, a professor texting you "Hello can we change our meeting to 2PM?" or "How is your data collection going?" or "Good job at the conference. I am proud of you!" are examples of likely professional statements. Examples that are not professional and are inappropriate can be "I'm at a bonfire at my friends house, you should come by next time!" and "Do you like the picture UNIVERSITY just took of me?" and something like "How are you doing tonight? I'm have a beer and a good dinner, going to be a blast."

it is never appropriate for them to yell at you or belittle you. It is never appropriate for them to degrade or embarrass you. If you make a mistake it is your mentor's responsibility to communicate that you made a mistake and be clear about their expectations of you going forward. It is also appropriate for your professor to give you constructive criticism, to give you expectations and deadlines, correct you when you are wrong about something, and express mild or professional level of disappointment when you do something irresponsible (for example, working with a chemical unsafely around another coworker, if you say something unprofessional or inappropriate that warrants correction, if you do not meet a deadline for something time sensitive like a federal grant application, etc.) It is not appropriate for them to be disappointed or guilt tripping about human errors and mistakes. You should not fear being corrected by your mentor, you should not be afraid to admit mistakes, you should not feel like they have "good days" and "bad days" when it comes to these things, you should not be held accountable for things out of your control (ie the experiment fails and needs to be redone even though you made no mistakes and your technique was fine). You should never be yelled at. You should not be given critique with no solutions (ie your professor saying "You don't work hard enough" and then giving you no reasons or constructive reasons why, ie your professor saying "Your emails annoy me" with no reasons or constructive solutions to improving your communication). Professors should also not hold you accountable for things that are their fault (ie your mentor yells at you for not submitting something on time that they never told you was due or that they wanted within in a specific time). You also should be mindful that professor's like anyone else in your life should have appropriate levels of reactions to things, even more so with a professional boundary. For example, if you miss a meeting them screaming at you and insulting you and acting like this is the ultimate betrayal is not an appropriate reaction to that mistake.

Your mentor should not joke inappropriately with you. They should not tell you jokes that obscure professional lines or are concealed belittlement. Examples: "If you don't pass your test I'll whip you!", [sexual/romantic/intimate jokes of any kind]. "I was confused by your email, must be all the beer I've been drinking!".

Your professor should not be talking about other students, coworkers, and even other professors behind their back to you. Example, "UNDERGRADUATE STUDENT is so dramatic when she makes mistakes don't you think?", "OTHER PROFESSOR doesn't deserve to get grants, I can't believe you're taking his class", "YOUR COWORKER has been going through a lot these past few months + [proceeds to tell you personal & private information about them]"

The hardest part about school/research/academia should bet he work. It can be difficult and burnout is common especially when deadlines out of your control comes up and understandable (given that you are not being overworked). What shouldn't be difficult is the mentor you have. You should not be burnt out, depressed, or exhausted because of how your mentor treats you. You should not fear going to work. You should not have to lie/people please/perform to avoid a "bad day" from your mentor. You should not be made to cry, or mentally break down weekly or even daily or even ever by your mentor.

It can be a red flag if your professor insults you to your face but to colleagues/other professors/other professionals they sing your praises and over-compliment you.

Your professor should not ask you to do things that are unsafe or illegal. They should not ask you to do things that are OSHA violations, against federal lab safety guidelines (ie via the state DOT, EPA, EHRS, etc). They should not ask you to transport things in your car that could be unsafe, especially over state lines.

Maybe stem specific, but do not work in a lab that does not follow HIPAA guidelines, that does not follow the IRB, that does not follow the iACUC. For your own safety career wise + personally, this is not a safe situation to be in.

Mentors should not ask you things that are personal or private about you without you stating it first/giving the okay. Examples: asking about family, asking about health status and medications, asking about disabilities/mental health diagnoses, asking about sex and romantic life, asking about drinking and or drug use, asking intimate details about your outside friends and family, etc. It is not to say you cannot talk about these things, but they should not ask you and boundaries and consent is important here.

Red flag could be how your professor treats other students, even if you feel like they are "treating you well."

it could be a red flag if your professor overly rewards you or gives you intimate and expensive gifts. This is very much context dependent. Here's some examples from my groomer that I have catalogued as appropriate and not appropriate: When I was close to graduating he gifted me a hardcover book of a mathematical theorem we were studying, which I saw as appropriate. What i saw as inappropriate, was him giving me chocolates/cookies + intimate notes/cards for my birthday.

It is not necessarily unprofessional to have lunch with your professor or even other meals but again this can be context dependent (+ within your own boundaries). Potentially appropraite: "Hello. I need to reschedule our meeting for Noon? Can we meet over lunch?". Likely inappropriate (example from my own groomer): over text says something like "Rolls the dice...lunch? We can then walk around PARK NEAR YOUR HOUSE together."

Red flags can be that a professor starts to blur professional lines after you leave their lab or graduate, especially as these boundaries were pushed throughout the relationship.

Professors should be open to constructive criticism as a mentor and take accountability healthily and non defensively.

Professors should not be texting or calling you "off hours". There are some very specific situations this may be appropriate (Ie you are a graduate student and your professor who also does benchwork in the lab calls you with a lab related emergency regarding your samples (ie the freezer broke) or regarding safety if you are on the emergency contact list). They should not be calling you for personal matters/chatting you up like you are a friend/dating.

It is never appropriate to be asked to do romantic or sexual favors from a professor. It is also inappropriate for them to blackmail you

[snakeskins-world]

Picture Perfect...?

The Madrigals were all doing their own things today.

It had been 3 months since the Casita crashed, and the rebuild. They had all become closer than ever! Feeling like they've truly reunited properly.

Of course, they still had secrets...

Dolores, was sat in the main room, next to Mariano. Dolores was listening with excitement as Mariano spoke, his voice like music to her ears.

Camilo, was with Antonio, upstairs. They were running do the halls, Antonio was riding his Jaguar, parce, as Camilo tried to keep up.

Isabela was sat on her vine swing, decorated with new plants. She was tripping up Camilo every now an again by growing random plants.

Luisa was relaxing in a hammock, a drink in hand, her donkey-unicorn stuffie in the hammock next to her. Both laying in the sun.

Pepa was stood with Felix, both were charring by the bottom of the stairs, their conversation going unheard by the other Madrigals,

but it was clearly happy and loving, since Pepa's cheek were practically painted pink, and the sun was shining above the town, and Felix was sporting his loving, flirtatious smile at his wife, speaking to her in Spanish.

Bruno was sat in his bedroom, redecorating.

Julieta was sat outside with Agustìn, both enjoying the nice weather.

Alma was sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee as she read a book, a romance. But she wouldn't admit that.

And Mirabel was setting the plates for dinner.

"Mirabel, dinner isn't for a few hours yet?" Alma says, her head tilting up, her eyes going from her book to her granddaughter who had just finished setting the plates.

"Well, I like getting ready early, this way we don't spend time putting the plates out during dinner." Mirabel explains.

"And we repaired Tio Bruno's old plate! We wanna surprise him at dinner!" Mirabel smiles excitedly, her usual cheerfulness, radiating from her like light did from the sun.

"He'll love it, Nieta. How about you go play with your cousins? Or sisters?" Alma suggests, but it was more like an order.

"But I need -" Mirabel's excuse was cut short.

"No. No, I won't hear any of that, go enjoy the nice day -"

The sound of glass shattering filled the house, everyone jumped.

Pepa picked up thr photo, it was of Antonio's ceremony.

"Camilo! Antonio! You both need to be careful!" Pepa scolded her younger children, a cloud growing over her head.

"Mi Vida, look." Felix whispers, taking the picture, showing his wife. "Where's Mirabel? She isn't in the photograph."

At this, the entire family started to crowd around, peering at the picture.

"Mirabel?" Antonio asks, looking up, the entire family copied. They looked at Mirabel, who was stood at the entrance of the kitchen, her hands clasped infront of her, a nervous look on her face, as if she had done something wrong.

"Mirabel, why aren't you in the picture?" Pepa asks, her voice carried confusion and a hint of sadness.

Mirabel looked away, her fingers interlaced before her hands moved to her to her side.

"W, well, you all were really excited, a and I wasn't included, I don't have a gift, I guess you all just forgot to include me, but I get why, I mean, you need to have a gift to be a Madrigal!" Mirabel says quickly, her hands moving as she spoke, moving with her voice.

As Mirabel spoke, the look on the Madrigals' faces slowly turned to stunned sadness.

Pepa's clowd turned dark and a light drizzle started to pour down.

"M, mirabel, we forgot you?" *Julieta asked, staring at her daughter. "Why didn't you say? We could've redone it." She says. Walking up to her daughter.

"Well, you were all really happy, a and I didn't wanna be a bother, so I just...stayed quiet." Mirabel says.

"Oh Miraboo." Agustìn says lovingly and sadly, using her nickname only he could say, he hugged his daughter tightly.

"You could never be a bother. You're a part of the familia Madrigal!" He smiles, trying to lighten the mood.

"This won't do." Alma says firmly, her hands clasped together, the entire family looked up to their Matriarch, waiting for her to continue.

"Next week. We will have a party, for Mirabel's sixteenth birthday." Alma says, then looks directly at Mirabel "And Mirabel, you will be the centre of the photo." Alma says firmly but kindly, showing she genuinely meant her words. "We missed your gift ceremony, and your Quinceara. We will have to fix that."

"You really don't have to!" Mirabel tried to change their minds, but the family was already brainstorming.

"Out! The future birthday girls cannot hear the plan!" Camilo says, ushering Mirabel to the kitchen.

Mirabel chuckled. She knew her family was trying to make up for it all.

Familia Madrigal was healing. And it would take time

But they'd slowly heal the cracks.

[jamgrlsblog]

My The Owl House fanfiction and associated art master post! Word counts are rounded.

(My links: linktr.ee/jamgrlfandom)

Concerts and Curses Series (young Raeda & Owl Lady origins)

A Private Concert (T, 9k): Eda POV, pre-curse, getting together; when Raine gets stage fright and doesn’t finish performing a solo, they perform it for just Eda instead (cuteness abounds)

A Not-Date

Excerpt 1-page Comic (original); Excerpt 1-page Comic (redone speech bubbles and bonus original sketchbook page)

Moments

Never Been Cursed (T, 18k): Eda POV, post-curse, established relationship; Eda strikes it out on her own and tries to navigate how Raine can still fit into her life (teen hormones abound)

(4-page excerpt comic in progress!) Page 1, Page 2

A New Key (T, 14k): Raine POV, young adult, established relationship; Raine getting a palisman forces them to think about what they want (tender but fraught YA Raeda)

Watching crystal ball

Camilraeda

Three’s A Match??? (M, 22k): Camila POV, getting together with Raeda after matching on a dating app

Matched

Cold Feet

Raeda one-shots

Lovestuck (T, 2k): Raine POV, Raine remembers Eda talking to them when they were a puppet

Some Interrogation (E, 5k): Eda POV, missing scene in “O Titan, Where Art Thou”, when Raine captures Eda, feelings are spilled (and they have sex in an interrogation room 😂)

Holiday fics

Solstice Night (G, 6k): Eda POV vignettes of her experiences of the BI winter solstice traditions (5 times Eda didn’t cry on Solstice Night + 1 time she did)

Solstice Cookies

Noche de Reyes (T, 4k): Camila POV, Camila recruits Eda to help leave presents for the kids as the Three Kings (Latin American Christmas holiday)

500-word Ficlets

Touch-Starved (T): Eda feels the physical effects of loneliness (pre-canon)

Crusher (T): Follow-up to Touch-Starved, Eda asks Raine to cuddle with her (post-canon)

The Ask (G): It’s the time of year where teen witches ask each other to a special event… (Young Raeda)

Gromposal!

**to be updated as new works are posted**

[strangenewwords]

List O' Fics on AO3

now with update status! (10/30/23) slownorimo update (6218 over the goal!)

Spirk

TOS/SNW

don't you know me - Still being updated.

One morning, Admiral Kirk's unbreakable bond with his husband is suddenly severed. The cause? A temporal anomaly that has turned the 55-year-old Spock into his 31-year-old self. Now, they find themselves on an uncharted path, facing an uncertain future where their shared journey hangs in the balance, teetering between continuity and divergence.

Mature (for talk about sex, but sex is kept in oneshots). Chaptered and incomplete.

we ran aground - Completed.

Set when Kirk is the XO of the Farragut and Spock is the science officer on the Enterprise. Both ships are in dry dock for repairs, and Spock runs into Kirk at a bar. He walks him home. Things progress. There's chess. And sex.

Explicit. More porn. Can also do the standalone thing, but falls in Don't You Know Me universe.

take me how you want me - Completed.

Kirk and Spock are on Vulcan for their wedding. Spock can't seem to find his center. Jim helps. With his body.

Explicit coz porn. Can be read as a standalone but is backstory from don't you know me.

Sarek x Amanda

TOS/SNW/DISCO/AOS

we can blame it on human nature - Paused

Yet another Amanda and Sarek origin story.

When four-year-old Sybok arrives on Earth to live with his father, Amanda Grayson's life takes an unexpected turn. She can't resist falling for the charm of this endearing child, but things get even more intriguing when she meets the tall, dark, and utterly captivating Sarek.

As Amanda and Sarek navigate the complexities of their newfound connection, they discover a magnetic pull between them that defies all logic. Together, they must chart a course through the chasm of their differences, all while exploring the depths of the emotions that bind them.

Teen, and it'll stay there. This is a sweet story with a dash of heat.

beyond logic - On Pause

The blurb is wrong because it's going to be redone. But Sarek x Amanda and dark and steamy.

So, so much Explicit.

Captain Shaw

burn the whole house down - On Pause

Captain Liam Shaw is a shitshow held together by the terrors of his past. This is a story of him finding something else to live for.

Mature for language, but'll probably go up to explicit because my Shaw is sex!driven. Whatcha gonna do?

Spock x Chapel

tangled memories - Completed

When nightmares haunt Christine, Spock becomes her anchor.

Teen, with some implied sex but no actual sex.

Deep Space Nine

forever and more - Completed.

Julian and Miles have bad habits. Julian keeps saying he'll stop. Garak is there to pick up the pieces.

Mature for sex, but not porn.

Father Brown

you used to be my favorite memory - On Pause

Sidney Carter and Inspector Sullivan knew one another in London years before Sullivan showed up in Kembleford. Sullivan's astonished to run into Sid again in this tiny, out of the way town. Sid can't believe Sullivan is getting on his case after the way things went down. They try to figure out where each of them fits into this new arrangement, especially when they can't seem to keep of out each others way.

Teen, but may bump up to M as I move forward.

pinch me - Completed

Sid and the Inspector regularly heat up the caravan. In the aftermath on this afternoon, their conversation drifts to how things started and where they are

M for implied sex, fondling.

[dogfishmonger]

Clutch

A story by @dogfishmonger

With art by @dolgoyangi

Coming to @deancashorrorfest in October.

Rating: M Relevant warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; non-graphic underage content; body horror Word count: Approx. 13,000

Dean is a normal, stable man in his 20s: He has a job. He has a boyfriend of three years, even if they're on the rocks. He has a little brother in pre-law. There are, simultaneously, things in his upbringing that he simply isn't supposed to question: His father's unexplained, undefined trips out of state. His mother's death. The body he once found in the basement. When Sam runs off in search of answers, Dean and Cas head east to find him. But after catching up with him, something's... different. Wrong. Dean and Cas are at odds—again—with Dean believing that Sam is in danger, and Cas suspicious that Sam is the danger. Returning to normalcy will involve more digging into forbidden territory than Dean was ever prepared for Cas to see. In the end, he doesn't even know if it was worth it. They're left with just as many questions as answers, and the answers they do have are ugly, insidious things, glistening oil-spill black and undulating. Excerpt under the cut:

Dean hadn’t had a single dream.  

He felt… fine, actually.  The fear in the depths of his stomach had felt, for days, like grasping a violently vibrating metal handrail.  It buzzed; it almost hurt.  

It hummed, just then.  Unbidden, he thought, it’s almost over.

The Impala was old—made after the iron age of vehicle design, sure, but thankfully well before the partial switch to plastic.  In an affectionate sense, it was a giant aluminum can. 

That is to say: the rain was loud.  

For the first five years they lived in Ashmer, the house had a tin roof.  It was built in the 1890s or something, back when people still did that shit.  There was a bad storm when Dean was nine or ten, maybe a hurricane, he couldn’t remember.  He just remembered taking Sam down to the basement, where they weren’t allowed to go, where there was still a stain on the concrete floor. 

When they came back up in the morning, a tree had fallen into the kitchen. 

The roof got redone. 

They made it from to the old house in relatively short time.  Ashmer was similar to a lot of towns in the hollers of northern Appalachia: you were in the forest, and then the trees cleared out and you were in a town.  It was small, both in terms of population and geography. 

As for the house, it was empty.  Either it just happened to be empty, or it had remained empty ever since the Winchesters had left.  People in the mountains tended to drift toward the superstitious.  Dean wouldn’t be surprised if the house had taken on a sort of Boo Radley mantle.   John had disappeared temporarily on the regular, and only once, when it was time for the finale, permanently.  DHHR had come, the police had come, cleaners had come.  The details weren’t widely available, but people had to know.  There was something wrong with that house.  There had been something wrong with the boys who had lived in it. 

So, Dean didn’t doubt that no one had moved in.  

Cas said something, but it sounded just like the low rumble of heavy June rain.  Dean was still tired, syrupy and nebulous; it was like he’d been cut loose, like all his adrenaline had been burned off at the state border.

He hadn’t expected that. 

Cas said something again.  Dean just let it wash over him, warm and familiar and laving.  Cas sounded calm almost all the time. 

Dean felt Cas’ hand on his arm, and a half-moment later, the car rolled to a gentle stop.  

“We’re here,” Cas said.  

Here, Dean repeated to himself.  Here as in Ashmer, or— He tried his hardest to make out what lay beyond the dashboard.  The headlights were on, but it was exceedingly, impressively dark outside.  The rain beat down in solid-looking sheets.  There was something there, vaguely person-shaped, somewhat shrunken, maybe just hunched. 

“I think that’s your brother on the porch.”

[itaintlyinjustimprovingthetruth]

Newsies

(REDONE, POSTING OW ONTO FANFIC ACC!!)

David Jacobs x FTM!Reader

Jack Kelly is their brother

idea/prompt: The strike gets too violent, and the reader gets hurt in one eye, Jack gets extremely worried about them as well.

Setting: Rally at Irving Hall, Newsboys Lodging House

Word count: 1,781

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the Rally at Irving Hall, the place being filled with newsies from Richmond, Brooklyn, Woodside, and Bronx just to name a few. The rally was being hosted by who else  than Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon, and David Jacobs. After the whole speech, Miss Medda sang a song for all the boys. But, Snyder had come to the Hall, with so many bulls that it surrounded the place. A huge fight broke out. Y/N, however, was knocked out cold by the end of it, and who else than Davey had found them, and had taken him to the Lodging house to patch them up from any of the wounds they had, and let him rest. The time of this, starts when Y/N wakes up.

Y/N had woken up, a hand on his head. He looked around, confused for a moment before realizing he couldnt see through his right eye. He started to panic, looking around for anybody. That's when Davey, his beloved, had walked in 

“Y/N? Y/N you're alright!”  Davey ran over to his bed, hugging them gently, “Does anything hurt anywhere? Did I get all of your wounds and bruises?”

“ 'm fine, Davey, but there might be a problem..”

“Wh-? Did something happen?” His expression changed from relief to worry, as he looked at him

“I can't see out o’ my right eye, Davey..”

“You can't- wh? But how- what happened?” He looked very worried, hugging onto Y/n still.

“I think someone hit my eye, a bit too hard if ‘m bein’ honest..” you say, lightheartedly joking.

“Y/N, we shouldnt be joking right now, this is serious-” Davey said, worry flushing through his face.

You sigh, holding davey's face , and kiss his cheek “Ill be fine, though, when have’t i been?”

“W- well, i mean, you weren't fine for the few weeks you were out-” He replies, looking at Y/N. “And also when you just now told me you cant see through your Right eye-” he begins again.

“-But ‘m okay now, correct? I’s fine, Davey'' you give a warm smile to him, opening your arms for another hug, which he gladly takes.

“You better be alright…” he mumbles, staying close to you, looking up at you as well. You give him a smile, a smile that's comforting to him.

“May I’s get up yet..?” You drowsily ask, putting a hand in Daveys hair.

“Absolutely not- you're still hurt, y’know. And don't even think about saying you aren't, cause you'll probably stumble.” he says, getting up “And plus, you’ll worry the others.” Davey helps you sit up, smiling a little at you. 

“Ill be fine- gotta walk it of, ya know?” you smile back at Davey, going to get up, but ultimately failing. Davey had pushed you back into the bed.

“You're still not getting up- Want me to get you something?”

“My mouths kind of dry, i would’t mind wata” 

“Alright, i'll be back.” Davey leaves the room, leaving you alone. Is it a bad idea? Probably. Because you immediately get up, stumbling to the door. To be honest, you just wanted to check on the others. By the time you made it to the door, Davey had came back. 

“Y/N! Get back in the bed-” He brought you back to the bed, making you whine slightly. “Your still hurt, mister, you’re not getting up.”

“But Daveyyyyyy-” you whine, trying to get up again, which Davey had stopped you again.  “I wanna get uppp- pleaseeee?” you tried doing the puppy eyes, but davey had sat you down anyway.

“No, Y/N, your badly injured still, and im not risking anything. Now, drink the water you asked for.” he replies. You pout and drink the water. Davey smiles slightly, and gives you a kiss on your cheek. “Want me to get anyone?”

“Whoever wants to see me, Davey.” you replied, giving him a small smile back, shifting a little in the bed

“So far, Jack is worried the most- he’s worried about a lot, now that i think about it-..” he mumbles the last part, and goes to get Jack. Jack, once he heard he was finally allowed to see you, rushes in like the worried brother he is.

“Y/n! How have you been? Are you alright? What happened? Do I need to beat anyone up?” he said panicky, 

“ ‘m fine, Jack, and no- absolutely not, violence isn't an answer, Jack” you sigh, opening your arms for a hug, which in response he hugs you back, in a brotherly comfort way.

“Y/n, i know that- its ‘cause violence is da question and da answar’ is yes” your response from that was a sigh of disappointment 

“No, Jack, it isn’t, and it never will be.” 

“I guess your right then- Davey, didn't you say something about him bein’ hurt..? He looks all’right.”

“You wanna tell him or do I have to, Y/n?” Davey asks calmly, looking at you

“Jack- ive uhm, gone Blind in ma’ right eye..” you said, hoping jack wouldn't get too upset or angry at whoever did it to you.

“..and how'd that happen? Ans who dids it-” He looks at you, with a surprisingly serious face. You usually have seen Jack with a goofy or unserious face, so this was the first time in a while you've seen his serious face. The last time you've seen him so serious was when you were a kid, and that was a long time ago.

“Noone- not that i know of, atleast, and youse aren't beatin’ nobody, Jack” you respond with hesitance, because you didn't know if he was threatening violence or not.you honestly couldn't tell that much, reading tone was definitely not your strong suit. 

“I ain’ts dumb, Y/n, i knows not ta’ beat anyone up” he responds with a slight tone of voice you couldnt figure out if it was sarcasm or not. You didn't know why it was so hard for you to read tone because you could never learn how too, no one had taught you. Davey had been trying to teach you, and it was somewhat helping, but you couldn't read tone well.

“...So you aren't gonna beat whoever up?” you ask, looking up at the cowboy

“Nope, 'm not. I promise.” Jack replies, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Alright, ill trust you for now- Davey, keep an eye on ‘im?”  you turned to davey, who gave a nod “And Davey, you know i can't stay in this damn bed forever.” 

“I know, i know- but it's better for you to stay in bed for now, so you can heal to your best. Then i'll allow you to get up again.” He sighs slightly but with a smile “I can promise that, okay?”

“Alright- don’ make me get Jackie to watch ya” you go to steal his hat, so you can ruffle his hair. He tries to snatch it back but instead you ruffle his hair lightly, giving a sinister grin. His face responds back with one too, and he steals your hat and puts it on. You chuckle a little and put his on ”I have a cute guys hat on now” you say, making Davey blush a little. Jack leaves the two lovebirds alone, just meaning you and Davey were in the room. You do grabby hands for him, and in response he comes over and hugs you, gently. You kiss his face all over and smile a bunch. His face starts going red after the first few kisses, which just makes you smile even more.

“I see your feel better, Dear-” he mumbles out, letting you go

“I guess I am, hmm?” you give a cheeky smile “can i get up yet? ‘m feelin’  betta after all.” 

“Still no. i want you to stay in bed for at least a day, okay? Not risking anything. Also, i had to take your binder off and wash it, you were wearing it for too long and you were knocked out. Don't worry, nobody saw you. I made sure.” You nod a little 

“When can i have it back?” you ask

“Tomorrow, alright?” you nod again, sitting up 

“Can i atleast sit up, Davey? I promise i wont get uuup-”

“...Fine.” he sits on the edge of the bed, just there to keep you company. You two started small talk, Davey telling you about the strike news recently, stuff like that. You smile and listen, because Davey's voice could be calming a lot. You seemed to start drifting off to sleep, but stayed awake so Davey wouldn't think he was too boring again. You didn't really like it when he thought he was boring, because he wasn't at all. He seemed to be more energetic with people he knew well. You were one of those people, because Jack had introduced you two to each other when Davey and Les started being a newsie, which seemed to be a day before the strike started. I guess it could have been a coincidence, that's what everyone said, though. You just went along with it. When the two of you met, something had sparked with you two, and it seemed to be love at first sight. At least, that's what some of the newsies said. They usually saw hints before you could register them. That was something you liked about the other newsboys here. Sure, they could be mean sometimes, but you were fine with that. 

“Are any of the others hurt?” you ask, looking at davey.

“Not that i know of, not recently.” he replies, looking at you “Why do you ask?”

“Just a bit worried, is all” you said, shifting a little in the bed. “You know Davey says, getting up “you should sleep then, hmm?”

“Davey im not tired- oh! Lets get Racetrack in here and we can play spoons!” You jump up a little in excitement, and davey rests you back down 

“I know how you get when playing with Race, no. please, try and rest? You can play with him tomorrow- its already 9pm, Y/n.”

“But Daveyyyyyyy-” you whine, looking at him. You wanted to play badly, but he was right. He should really going to bed. He nods slightly and lays down, “Can I have cuddles, at least? You wont crush me or anythin’ ” you chuckle lightly at the statement at the end, and Davey comes over and cuddles you. You two share some cuddles, and soon the two of you drift off to sleep.

[itsmeanyango]

Growing hair with Astrology

When it comes to hair growth, you either have the genes, money or both. However, you may have the money but the product's don't work because you picked the right products for the wrong person.Or the wrong products, for the right person With Astrology you can grow your hair by knowing transits that favour hair growth. Two particular transits are Leo and Virgo.

Virgo and Leo are best for hair because they represent matters related to hair growth. Virgo represents growth and harvest while Leo represents hair and baldness.

Leo:

Etymology: From Latin leō (“lion”), from Ancient Greek λέων (léōn).The glyph that represents the zodiac Leo (♌) looks like a head with a long ponytail.Lions are known for their long mane and this is why people with Leo at an angle or major Leo placements tend to have majestic hair.An angle means in the Ascendant/AC (first house), Descendant/DC(seventh house), Imum Coeli(fourth house)or Medium Coeli/Midheaven(tenth house).

Virgo:

Virgo (♍︎) (Greek: Παρθένος, Parthenos)Virgo comes after Leo in the Zodiac.Virgo is associated with Demeter, Persephone and a head of wheat. Demeter was the Goddess of harvest and agriculture. Persephone is her daughter. The glyph that represents Virgo is an M and a little fish to represent mother and child. Your hair is like your child, you are your hairs mother.

People with Virgo at an angle or very heavy Virgo placements, are the ones who tend to see results when they try growing their hair using products or DIY methods. Especially if they use food(that grows from the ground)to grow their hair. Such as rice water, aloe Vera and even chebe powder or bentonite clay.

There is a reason hair jelly/pomade is called hair food.

Leo season:

Leo season is good for trying something new on your hair. Especially if Leo is transiting an angle in your chart.For example during Leo season, the sun is in Leo. The sun is also Leo's rulling planet. When the Sun is in Leo, it means the sun is in your house where Leo is.

If you are an Aries rising, the sun is transiting your fifth house.

If you are a Pisces rising, the Sun is transiting your sixth house.

If you are a Taurus rising, the sun is transiting your fourth house.Don't feel bad if you do not have Leo at an angle. Every house favours hair during Leo season or transits. Say you have Leo in your 2 house, this means when the sun is transiting your second house, this is a good time to make a purchase related to hair.

If the moon is transiting your 2 house, this means you need to take your time and think about what you want to do to your hair. This is like a moment to reflect.

If it's Venus, you are bound to see gold everywhere and impulse buy, so self control. You are also bound to find a product or products you have been looking for.

If it's Mercury, it's a good idea to visit hair supply stores or even talk about what you plan on doing to your hair.

Virgo:

Virgo season and transits are the best for doing what farmers do. They till the land, plant their seeds and take care of what they planted as they patiently wait for harvesting season.This is how it works in Africans and people of African descent. Cornrows. Just that.

Cornrows and satin bonnets, satin head wraps, satin pillow cases or satin durags. You can also use silk material. You can also have all or a pillow case and one of the others because protective headwear always has a mind of its own when you sleep.

No good farmer leaves their crops on the farm way past harvest time, so cornrows should not be left in for long. They should be taken down every two to three weeks then hair washed and conditioned and periodically treated. Then cornrows redone.

Feel free to get creative with the cornrow style tou choose. Here is a Pinterest board on cornrow hairstyles

Virgo is special in hairgrowth because if you have A fourth house Virgo, a transit to your fourth house helps your hair grow "naturally" because the fourth house is about roots. In the sixth house you have the same but at a faster speed because the sixth house is ruled by virgo.Another special thing about Virgo is talking to your hair. Talking and singing to your hair helps in hair growth. This is because plants that are spoken to positively tend to grow well. Music has also been proven to contribute to plant growth. Virgo being ruled by the planet of communication (Mercury), supports talking to your hair.

More information on Hair and Astrology is available on my Patreon. Subscribe to get exclusive information

Avoid Scorpio season or transists like moon in Scorpio because Scorpio is about death.

[peachypede]

😶🐯🍯🔐 for Pecha and Rawst?

Ask meme is here

Pecha

Tbh she doesn’t have a lot of control on what her face is doing. It’s a trait she inherited from her dad. When she tries to show an expression, such as smiling, it looks forced even if she is genuinely happy at the moment. She tries to keep a smile on her face most time because she doesn’t want to chase people away.

Often her face blanks without her realizing it. She’ll space out during a conversation and become very stoic faced or bored looking without meaning to. When she’s concentrating hard, her face goes between blank to glare that can kill. So during pokemon battles she either looks ready to murder you or completely unfazed by the battle…works in her favor though since it makes her hard to read.

Rawst

Has the same thing as Pecha and his dad, though he doesn’t try to force expressions. He doesn’t care if people have a hard time reading him or if he seems unfriendly. He believes it’s up to people to not make too harsh of first impressions of him.

He’s extremely blank faced while watching horror movies or playing horror games. His deadpan humor and inability to be phased by even the scariest of jumpscares is what attracts people to his streams and let’s plays. It’s hilarious watching a guy react to a creepy monster by saying “oh you silly little rascal! Come here…”

Pecha

When she used to have a battle training schedule, her first song on the playlist would be Kick in the Door by Xenia Pax and if her Pokemon hear this song they instantly go into battle mode. (From sweet house pets into battle machines lol)

Nowadays, she needs songs that get her into creating mode. Oresama- Morning Call has a nice snappy feeling to it that helps her focus on her work whether it’s making concept art or actually creating the pieces.

Rawst

He prefers soundtracks over songs with words, especially since he’s mostly trying to get pumped during a stream. Lights, Camera, Action! from Sonic Mania is a nice one to start off the stream. Any royalty free 8-bit music would be nice as well.

For more chill, just chatting streams some soundtracks like Lori M from Night in the Woods has really nice chill vibes to hang out to. (tbh I feel like this also would be kinda Rawst's theme as well. Mellow and chill.)

Pecha

Has a weakness for sweets but also a very sensitive tummy so if she overindulges, she's in pain town. She loves cakes, pies, cookies...especially home baked goods. Since she was taught by her tita to bake, it's kinda hard to avoid temptation when she knows she can just whip up her own cake or something.

ice-cream though has to take the top. So many flavors! So many toppings to add! Also romantic in a way cause you can share a milkshake with someone all cute diner style~

Rawst

Junk food eater. Eats a lot of candy. Also a freak though so his favorites are probably the extreme sour candies that would make a normal person pucker but with Rawst he has some extra citric powder that he adds to them to make them even more sour. (which if you consider that he ALSO has a sensitive stomach, he is always in pain and feeling like shit because of this)

His all time favorite is the sour gummy worms. He rolls those in the extra citric powder and eats a whole bag. Gremlin man.

Pecha

Her closet holds a secret...she has a furry suit. It's her own original character called Webby whose a Galvantula. She's got sparkles in her eyes and the main arms connect to a second lower pair of arms , having four arms like a Galvantula does. And yes. Pecha made this herself after watching tons of tutorials. She's remade and redone it for years until it looks really well made. And yes. She goes to convention incognito with it. She just likes furry stuff and thinks they're super cute! All the colors! All the cute mascots!

She doesn't like showing people due to all the stigma. If a friend or lover stumbles onto it, she'll get very embarrassed...

She really wants to make a Ribombee character next, though.

Rawst

He writes songs, poetry, and also draws people he thinks are attractive. All these journals are kept in one of his drawers at his computer desk. He's only lately started sharing some of his music online, but he'll never show off his poetry or drawings to people. They, um...hold his secret feelings for some certain people that he doesn't like to show

Might someday sing a song for his lover but that might also be something he keeps hidden away forever...

[knitruneatrepeat]

Coffee date Monday:

- I rarely drink my coffee hot at work, usually I do iced coffee. But I decided to do hot today because the current temperate is 41 outside.

- As predicted, I had a salad for lunch yesterday. It was yummy. But I have a feeling after this week I need to find alternatives to the salad world. No matter how much I add I am starting to get a bit exhausted of the green…

- Slow cooked ribs for dinner last night while I started to clean and organize parts of my house. They were alright, meat was not as flavorful as I was hoping for. But still a filling meal.

- I tidied up my bathroom closet organization. I had redone it back in 2020 with all Thirty-One products (gotta rep my side business). But over the months I had not properly put away things and it got messy. So yesterday I dived right in and was able to take care of that problem spot.

- I have a TON to do before M comes this weekend. I don’t know if I will accomplish it all, but I will chip away at it bit by bit. I love seeing the before and after pictures so that is a pretty good motivator.

How was everyone else’s weekend?

[astra-galaxie]

Francisco Cantú

Biographical information

Full Name: Francisco Cantú

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Status: Deceased

Age: 41 (season 1)

Birth: 1972

Race: Human

Cause of Death: Shot in the head

Nationality: Mexican

Origin: Mérida, Yucatán, Mexico

Residence:

Grimsborough, USA

Ivywood, Pacific Bay, USA (formerly)

Mérida, Yucatán, Mexico (formerly)

Profession(s): Actor

Partner(s):

Natasha Cantú (wife)

Three unnamed ex-wives

Profile

Height: 5'8" Age: 41 (season 1) Weight: 169lbs Eyes: hazel Blood: AB-

Hailing from Mexico, Francisco was a handsome man in his early forties with warm bronze skin and slicked-back jet-black hair. At the time of his death, he wore a pair of brown slacks, black dress shoes, and a navy blue trench coat over a white shirt.

Synopsis

Francisco was the victim of Jolly Old Killer.

He was a childhood friend of Eduardo Ramirez. The two had immigrated to Grimsborough when they were twelve, just months apart. Ramirez always said that Francisco was better at everything they did, and he knew his friend would go places. So it wasn't surprising to anyone when Francisco announced he wanted to become an actor.

In college, Francisco and Ramirez met Valentina Cruz. The men helped her adjust to the culture shock of moving from Spain to the USA, and became friends. Valentina and Francisco briefly dated, but her heart belonged to Ramirez. The two broke up, and Ramirez and Valentina began dating, with Francisco hiding his jealousy.

After graduation, Francisco moved to Ivywood to begin his acting career. He was immediately successful and became a well-known star. But his fame wouldn't come without heartache. He would have failed relationship after relationship, never able to let go of his love for Valentina.

After getting married for a fourth time to Natasha, Francisco decided to step back from the spotlight. He wanted to see if he was ready to retire, so he bought a house in Maple Heights and moved there with his wife.

Once back in Grimsborough, Francisco found that he couldn't stop thinking about Valentina even more. He contacted his ex-girlfriend to see if they could rekindle their old romance. But Valentina informed him that her love for him had died and she only saw him as a friend.

But Francisco wasn't going to take no for an answer this time. He tried to win Valentina's love by sending her flowers from Fili's shop, but the woman stood firm in her decision. She loved Ramirez, and he loved her. And no amount of flowers would change that.

Speaking of Ramirez, he found out about his childhood friend trying to steal his wife. He confronted Francisco at Fili's shop to get him to let go of his delusions, but Francisco was persistent. Eventually, Fili had to escort Ramirez out of his shop before someone got hurt.

Days later, Francisco is killed by his wife. He was planning to divorce her, but Natasha needed his money for her family; that was the only reason she had married him in the first place. So she killed him to try and inherit his fortune, but unbeknownst to her, he had his Will redone so that nothing would go to her.

After Alex analyzed Francisco's finances, it was discovered that the man's fortune was divided into four parts following his death. One to his mother, another to his father, one to charity, and lastly to Valentina and Eduardo Ramirez. Even if the three had grown apart, Francisco always valued their friendship and wanted to repay the couple for supporting and loving him.

Francisco might not have gotten Valentina back as a lover, but she and Ramirez will never forget what Francisco did for them by putting them in his Will. With the money, Valentina could finance her dream of opening a fencing studio to teach anyone who wanted to learn the art of fencing. The couple is forever grateful to their friend and wish they could have celebrated their successes together one last time.

Story Information

First appeared: Jolly Old Killer

Trivia

He was a runner for his university track and field team

He tried to become a musician but stuck with acting after realizing he couldn't write songs

He had cosmetic surgery multiple times and Botox injections to remove wrinkles

He would send the Ramirez children presents for their birthdays and Christmas until he, Valentina, and Ramirez grew out of touch after turning thirty

He and Ramirez are from the same city in Mexico but didn’t meet until moving to Grimsborough

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad) Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad) Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad)

[bazaarwords]

First Line Game

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3 (sort by date posted). If you have less then 10 fics posted, post what you have! Make a new post.

@scooby-doo-creepymechclown​ thank ya scoob

all that see this are welcome to do it!!

oldest to newest:

Top of Show (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power | E | 77k)

There’s screaming coming from the production booth.

When You’re Here... (The Owl House | G | 2.5k)

The elevator music is a really bad touch.

What Mothers Do/Lo Que Las Madres Hacen (The Owl House | G | 3.8k)

The first night, Camila makes them all congri.

You Remind Me (The Legend of Korra | G | 3.1k)

Republic City at lunchtime was about as busy as it ever got.

En Años Pasados (The Owl House | T | 40k | INCOMPLETE)

“Luz?” Amity whispers into the stale air.

The Life Between (Warrior Nun | T | 8.6k)

“Ava. Ava, what does this say?”

Rule of Three (Warrior Nun | M | 6.8k)

Beatrice believed that she had fallen in love when she was seven years old.

Natural Twenty (Warrior Nun | T | 8.1k)

Something is howling.

Rebecca Who? (Warrior Nun | G | 100 words)

“Who’s…  Rebecca?” 

Redone (RWBY | G | 1k)

They go to the beach when it’s all over.

[ourpickwickclub]

I am so happy they spent time on the ranch part of compound that’s where everything started and it’s nice to see them hang there and not just at the big house. I like the kitchen area they had redone it looks great and love them sitting SB cooking over the fire pit. There’s a lot of good video memories that G has shared over the years from that area. I hope they hang with the boys there also but I am sure they will have their big dinner in the nice house. I hope they share some with B mom and sister I liked how he joked about his sister crying over his one contestant then said she was a hard person. I’d like to see her say something about that on video while there. It looked like Leo won the dance battle but Blake won the tickle contest I think Leo got for jumping on him, even Betty got into the action I wish she had let it go a little longer. Great either way on the B&G adventures. I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving.

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving as well! I loved seeing them all at the ranch where they’ve made so many great memories. Hoping for more stories to come from Gwen as they have the second part of their thanksgiving holiday!

— M

[roller-coaster-tycoon-classic-95]

Roller Coaster Tycoon Classic: Six Flags Holland

Ok so this is a very expansive and sprawling park, yet nothing is filled in, the rides are so far apart from each other that there’s a ton of land to fill in. The objective isn’t hard, like the other parks, but it did take me 27 game years to finish this park. I also decided at the beginning that I wasn’t going to buy any land, there’s a ton of land for sale but there’s not enough types of rides to fill in that much space.

I started by reconstructing the entire park from the ground up, all of the pathways needed to be changed, a lot of rides needed to be moved. I started by completely reimagining the entrance and working it into the lakeside to the east, keeping the town/building theme but scaling it to RCT, adding lots of trees and bushes. Next to the entrance I added a version of Xpress, but made as a corkscrew coaster.

I built a second railroad, both railroads go in counter clockwise circles around their respective halves of the park. The area with the boomerang got remade, to be closer to the carousel and the now larger food court. The entire promenade up to the Ferris wheel has been redone, now leading up to an observation tower. The Ferris wheel has been moved to the lakeside. The area around the space shot and enterprise has changed, now a boardwalk following the train tracks. Condors layout has changed slightly, the area around condor and Goliath has changed, many more courtyards and plazas added. The area between Crazy River and Flying Dutchman has been turned into one large western themed area, including the swinging ship, which is now been moved, the lake being occupied by a Splash Falls. There is an Area 51 type area in the back corner, with a tiny launched giga (Lost Gravity) wedged into the very small corner. I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could create a coaster in that tiny space.

The entire area around Robin Hood has changed, there is now an entire castle themed area inside Robin Hood’s layout, where the graviton and haunted house have been moved to. It is a dead end, but guests don’t get lost. The largest coaster in the park is now a B&M hyper named Drako, a double out and back coaster that crosses the lake at the back of the park. It’s blood red and 6,178 feet long, with speeds of 75mph. There is a launched giga over the rapids ride, which became bigger and more twisted than I anticipated. Also a pirate themed floorless coaster on the lake with 8 inversions.

All in all this park was not hard, but was a matter of blending areas from the original park and using them to accentuate the newer rides. This is the final park I’m doing from this series, I have no interest in the time twister parks, I think the scenery in them is ugly. I’ve had thoughts for years of doing a ‘revisited’ series, but that’s for the future. All in all I finished Six Flags Hollands with 45 rides including 14 coasters.

[kinopioa]

Observation of English produced M&M CG shoe models (Red and Yellow)

From 1996 till present, M&M's has had subtle design changes for the shoes. For this I looked at the main company's CG model (Now known as Laika/House Special*), and other Eng produced company CG models

*For ref Will Vinton Studios becomes Laika in 2005, then Laika after 2014 specified a new Advertising branch called House Special

1996-98: The shoe soles face inward for the shorter side. There's no m imprint yet

Crude interpretation

___

1999-2006 an "m" imprint was added, but some ads the shorter side of the sole faces outward. This seems to be an error, as main press art and other foreign models were consistent with having the shorter side inward, and even Blue has his sole inward unlike Red and Yellow

___

1999-2017 The sole is similar to the 1996 design, only with the m from previous

___

2017-2022: The grooves were replaced with raised loops. Even the m is raised instead of inset

___

Post 2022: As the models were redone for arms and shoes, the shoes were replaced with lace sneakers more similar to Orange (Crispy)'s sneakers. Shoe sole design is similar to the 2017-2022 sole

Other companies

Partizan Mini-Minuit (2002-2013, Eng post 2006): They are a French company that typically do ads for Europe. Rarely they do Eng ads, and the soles are oddly lacking the m and super thick

___

Topix (2003-2014?): Canadian for origin, they generally have extremely similar models to the main Laika one for body, but sometimes the shoe sole incorrectly has 1 shoe not flipped. They seemed to have done many collaborations with worldwide M&M's campaigns in the early 2000s

Example of correct and incorrect Topix shoe

___

Trilobite Productions (2002-2017): An Australian company, they had a similar body mesh to Laika's for Red and Yellow, though shoe sole was significantly flatter for detail and not as heavily ringed

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Elliott Hall

101 Irvin Drive

Oxford, OH 45056

Elliott Hall is one of the two oldest remaining buildings on Miami University's Oxford Ohio campus today. Originally known as North Dorm or "Old North," construction on Elliott Hall was completed in 1825. The dorm was originally used for student housing and its purpose has remained the same since its opening. The building was originally constructed for a total cost of $7,000. The dorm housed 35 men. Each resident was given survival tools upon their arrival to ensure their comfort and safety in the dorm. These tools included; a bed, chairs, table, cook utensils, an ax to cut wood for the fireplaces in each room, and a warm cap.

In 1848, the fraternity Phi Delta Theta was founded in room 202 of Elliott Hall. The two co-founders of the fraternity, Robert Morrison and John M. Wilson, were both roommates in this room when they decided to try and cultivate the fraternity. Today this room acts as a shrine to these two men. The room consists of two beds, a table, portraits of the men, and a stone plaque to help commemorate the founding of Phi Delta Theta. This room has seen little change since the founding of the fraternity.

The first renovations were started on the building in 1899. This first renovation was the addition of multiple new technologies for the time, which were supposed to make the dorm a more modern building. These renovations included the addition of a steam heater, electrical lights and modern bathrooms. These first set of renovations were mainly mechanical ones in order for the building to keep up with the changing times. The next renovation on the building took place in 1912. With this renovation the central hall of the building was removed and was later replaced by two-side halls, which virtually cut the hall into two sections. Both the corridors were named for professors at the school. The two professors who the two corridors are named for are R.B.C. Johnson and Charles Elliott.

Phi Kappa Tau founders William H. Shideler and Clinton D. Boyd lived together in the same room in Elliott at the time of their fraternity's founding in 1906. The next renovations came to the building in 1937. With these renovations the building took on all the same features and characteristics that it has today. To get ready to bring the building into the New Miami look many things were done. The interior of the building was completely redone. This caused the special layout of the space to become a much more unified building. On the exterior of the building all the bricks were sandblasted in order to make it fit in with the other buildings on Miami's campus. Also a number of the original chimneys were removed.

After the final set of renovations had been completed on the dorm it officially had its name changed from North Dorm to Elliott Hall in recognition of Charles Elliott who one of the corridors had been named after. Elliott was a professor at Miami University between 1849 and 1863. He was a professor of Logic and Greek Language and Literature. He received his education from a number of schools including; Lafayette College, Ohio University, Hanover College, and Princeton Theological Seminary. He later died in 1892 at the age of 77. Along with Stoddard Hall, t he building was listed the National Register of Historic Places on April 3, 1973.