#i always love when they go to worlds and their appearances change the designs are so fun

[2-dsimp]

Hey! I’ve been starting to get obsessed with Shimo- Does he mind being a blue 10 foot ogre with tusks, or is it kinda normal since there’s other species in your world? I can definitely see why it can’t help with his job, but how would he feel if Y/N is scared of him or if anyone in general is scared - Also does he feel the need to be gentle with Y/N? I feel like he’s a cold person but deep down a gentle giant 🥺 I love him so muchhh 😭😭 I don’t know why but I find him so cutee!

Also the fact that your constantly making new characters and drawing out there designs is amazing! You’re extremely creative, and use creatures or concepts I’ve never would have thought of! I always look forward to reading your posts! Thank you

Shimo is proud of his heritage coming from a family full of esteemed honor bound Oni clansman. Their clan is primarily acknowledged as righteous peace makers throughout the differing realms. So you’d see his relatives in regal positions of law enforcement across the borders/portals.

The policeman would overall feel indifferent about how scary he’s perceived by others. He’s gotten used to it as he was considered a giant even as a child. Where oftentimes he had gotten into sticky situations due to being mistaken. As a full grown man when he was only in elementary school.

He’s not going to make an effort to appear less scary. It’s not like he can change what he looks like though he has tried as a youngster to fit in only to have negative results. So If you want to be his bride then you’d have to see him for what he is rather than what he looks like on the outside. That’s one of the main criteria he’s got for choosing his prospective bride.

Thanks to the teaching of his parents he learned to retrain his strength. So of course he’d always use a gentle hand when dealing with things he and delicate and precious to him. Although he’s not above getting a bit rough if you’re into that, his adaptability is his best quality.

——-/——/————-

A/n: And thank you for sticking around to read about my silly ideas! It makes it much more motivating and enjoyable to create new things. When I know that y’all are liking what I draw/write out!

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[ajwalkerartblog]

i dew like to dewdle adoobeedoo

[the-isekai-ninja]

Thinking about Kakashi moving in with you.

It's only been a few months since you started dating but every time he's been over he leaves another thing there. First it was some clothes, just so you had something that smelled like him when he was away.

Then a tooth brush and other small toiletries for when he's too tired to go home.

Then books you definitely didn't purchase start appearing on your shelf. On your coffee table. One you found under your bed.

Eventually you jokingly suggest he just moves in with you, but the puppy dog eyes he gives you at the suggestion makes you cave and that same night you and him are packing up his place and moving everything he owns over to yours.

Really, it would have made more sense for you to move in with him as his old place had way more space then your tiny townhouse but you have a wonderful balcony that shows an incredible landscape of Konoha he can't get enough of so it was a no brainer that sacrificing space for the view was worth it.

It doesn't really hit you until a week into it when things have settled. You had gotten an extra set of keys cut for everything and now Kakashi had his own designated spot on your key rack at the front door.

His food and drinks are in your fridge and pantry, extra glasses and plates from his house now shared the space with yours. Horribly mismatched but you wouldn't have it any other way.

His flak vest hangs over one of your dining chairs, too lazy to hang it up properly in a closet as it'll be put back on the very next morning.

Your laundry basket fills up faster now and doing laundry has his clothes mixed with yours. He folds the clean clothes with you as you chat about your day.

Showers he becomes a nightmare. He barges in without a care in the world, asking if he can join you. You've thrown a loofa at him a few times now, sometimes a shower needed to stay a shower and you were always too weak to say no when he started getting handsy.

He makes dinner and you sit at the counter as you watch him, a pink frilly apron you were jokingly gifted as a housewarming present now wrapped around his waist as he chops some veggies.

It's jarring the first time Gai came to visit, asking if Kakashi was home. It takes you a few seconds of gears turning in your head before you remember that yes, of course people would come to see kakashi here, he lives with you! Kakashi warns you later Gai was just being polite since this is still new, eventually he'll go back to barging in without a care in the world.

The nail on the coffin at how absolutely domestic all of this has become, is when you leave the bathroom to see Kakashi tucked into bed with a book in his hands. He's reading comfortably with a small light on and you can't help but stare. He's in a sweater as it's gotten colder and his mask is nowhere to be found. You stand there for an uncomfortably long time and finally Kakashi glances up to ask you what's wrong.

"You live with me." You announce, as if he wasn't aware of this fact.

He stares at you bewildered but it slowly turns into amusement, "Yes. Yes I do. Have for a few days now."

"You live with me." You state again, finally processing after a whirlwind week the meaning of this change.

Kakashi puts his book to the side to address you properly, "Yes? Is that...a problem...?"

A surge of excitement, love, and passion all bubble up inside of you at once and you fling yourself at Kakashi, catching the Copy Ninja off guard as you wrap your arms around his neck and pepper kisses against his cheek.

Kakashi is taken aback by the sudden action but recovers quickly and wraps his own arms around your torso, pulling you in close to himself as you continue to kiss his bare face. Cheeks, nose, mouth, chin, eyes. It's an onslaught that the ninja is unable to (and doesn't want to) stop.

You shove your face into his chest, nuzzling it in excitement. You peak up and give Kakashi a goofy grin, "You live with me!"

Kakashi gives you an incredulous look before a laugh erupts from his chest, shaking you as you lie on top of him. "I do!"

He kisses your forehead as he pulls you in even closer. You crawl over his lap and cup his face in your hands as you kiss him more.

You pull away to take him in. He's smiling at your antics as he rubs your back with one of his hands as the other slides up to caress your cheek. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve this." he confesses.

You squish his cheeks before pecking his lips, "Well it's a good thing it's not solely your decision."

He chuckles, "I suppose so. Thank you. You make me so happy you have no idea."

You huffed, "Kakashi I was so happy that you're here my brain short circuited and I tackled you just a few seconds ago, I have a small idea."

He pulls you in to kiss you again, this time with far more passion than the innocent kisses you had been giving out before. He flips you over to cage you against his body, one arm still wrapped around your waist as the other is used to keep himself hovering over you. "I love you."

You smile up at him, hands going to wrap around his neck again, "I love you too Kakashi. Forever and always."

"Forever and always." He replies back, leaning down to meet your lips again.

In a year, he will find his way back to his old family home and clean it up. When he proposes to you just a week later he'll take you there and tell you it's yours. You'll have to pack up again, say goodbye to the view of your balcony where the two of you spent many quiet nights enjoying each other's company.

Your plates still won't match, his flak vest now has a small space to hang at the front door, your laundry will still get fuller faster, and Kakashi will still try to sneak into your shower. Gai will barge into your home and Kakashi still loves making dinner in that silly pink apron because it makes you laugh.

You'll find you don't miss your small townhouse that could barely fit a second bookshelf because Kakashi has become your home, and you had become his. Wherever you two ended up, so long as you were together, you would be happy together.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Working on my Season Five designs, and getting some ideas down!

Additional Notes Below:

Jon’s hair turning white is inspired by Marie Antoinette Syndrome in fiction, which typically involves hair turning white suddenly due to immense stress, which, in this case, the stress stems from his body undergoing an immense change to adapt to the new world before he leaves the Cabin.

Clothing-wise, when he takes off the coat and scarf, he’s wearing an old Mechanisms shirt from college with Martin’s jumper tied around his waist, also wearing ripped jeans, but only because they got torn throughout the domains, and don’t forget the dirty and worn down Converse. Additionally, the earring is Elias’, and he’s had it since season four.

Also not seen here for obvious reasons, but to me, Jon’s voice box after the Cabin Statement is replaced by a tape recorder. If you hear a slight whirring sound, that’s just the equivalent of him purring. This is also where some of the Statement sound effects come from.

As for Martin!

Martin’s white hair gradually worsens over Season Four, but only reaches its state in Season Five after Jon rescues Martin from the Lonely. I like to think he always feels cold to the touch after this, and his fingers always appear frost-bitten — he also tends to breathe mist. And, as depicted here, his eyes go from a warm, darkish brown, to more of an icy colour. I think because he was nearly an avatar, his body had started to prepare for his death/acceptance, and he’s always on the verge of Becoming before the Eyepocalypse.

Him stealing a coat from Peter started off as an internal joke, but I’ve decided to commit to it because it honestly kind of works. He and Jon just love stealing things from LonelyEyes I guess. Part of it is him knowing Peter would hate for his clothes to be passed down to anyone, and he is nothing if not spiteful.

[zan0tix]

Hi tumblr user Zan0tix, I have to say that I love that you draw Jake as big and hairy AND fem. It's such a rare combination outside of mean-spirited caricatures, every time I see your Jake I get a big smile on my face. :)

Hi tumblr user HermitCyclop ^u^ here is a jake drawing for you 🫶

The transmisogynistic demonisation of these features is so maddening!!! I agree! Im glad that the intent (appreciating these features) of my jake design reaches you c:

GOING TO PUT IT UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY. But jake english gender meta because i think about it Too Much and am taking this as an excuse to infodump abt it. 😁

The alpha kids and their specific defiance of both homestucks gendered narrative AND real life societal expectations are so fun to think about to me!! but since we are talking about jake, his specific defiance of both homestucks models of masculinity and femininity in the context of his queerness is like the reason he is my fav character.

He props himself up that he wants to be the adventure "hero" in the homestuck sense (the hardheaded blue femme fatale) and the western media sense (the hardheaded action man) yet whenever pressed to actually act on what he says he always refuses or obfuscates. Because really what he wants is to just be himself! I really love the alpha kids because they all just want to be Themselves, not be restricted and defined by what is expected of them, (all the characters have this but the alphas particularly really hammer this home for me)

The heavy emphasis on their beta selves, the heteronormative archetypes they embodied and what went wrong in their lives that manifest as fears in their alpha selves... im always thinking about it. How differently society affects queer ppls choices in life and then the fact that they all get a second chance and getting to watch them live out that second chance and realize their queerness and them all caring so much abt eachother and wanting to aspire to be better FOR the ones they love!!!!!! it always tugs at my heart strings to ponder😢😢

IM SO GOOD AT GOING ON TANGENTS MY BAD but basically. The alpha kids explicit queerness and how despite the comic itself protesting, they are all shown to be deserving of love (of all kinds) And as a person who super heavily relates to jake, his experience with his own identity (and dirks unending adoration and love for him and likewise jakes belief and admiration of dirk) serves to me as a reminder that yknow! We are all worthy of love!! Even if we dont think ourselves to be (this is just the message of shrek.) and there is always hope to be found in things improving!!!!

But in a text thats explicitly queer and not shy about letting its queer characters do wrong in realistic ways i think this message is incredibly powerful and certainly one of the best things about the comic in my eyes. And i love embracing that in my art of the characters! Drawing queer (but here specifically trans) characters all getting to be proud of themselves and their appearances makes me feel proud of myself alongside them and I think its wonderful to be able appreciate other trans peoples experiences and looks through it too!!

I specifically in homestuck fandom dont really see anybody but twinks (usually dirk or eridan LMFAO) portrayed to be fem in any manner 😢 when jake is the most explicitly feminine man in the comic. (I think the transmisogyny thats kind of rampant in this fandom means people dont want to consider those outside conventional attractiveness being feminine or transfem identities outside binary transwomen if even that😭😭) I am being the change i wana see in the world 🙏 The amount of transfem fat gay bear jake in the world increases by one every time i post

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 19 - Free Use]

Pairing: sub!Taehyung x Domme!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU

Kinks: living room sex, free use kink, guided male masturbation, handjob, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, cock riding on the sofa, rough carrying sex against the window, semi-public sex ‘cause of the window, masochist!Tae, sadist!Reader, hair pulling, face slapping, degradation (slut), choking, “forced” finger sucking, subby boy tears, slight dollification, praise, squirting, very brief cunnilingus, lots of begging, he kneels at one point, strength kink cause of the carrying sex, soft & loving aftercare

Wordcount: 5.1k

a/n: inspired by this ask your idea was just too powerful, i was too inflicted by it not to write it gngnng this kink screams Sanguis!Tae so you are getting it with him gndfng have fun besties ❤

Taehyung has an apartment in Paris. Although “apartment” puts it lightly. It is in one of the city’s many old buildings, stretching over the last two floors and with a roof terrace nestled into the architecture. The apartment has high ceilings and old wooden floors. The furniture is a mixture of antiques and modern design pieces and wherever one might look, there is some sort of artwork presented. The main lights are rarely turned on because Taehyung has every room set up perfectly with ambient lights. On the first floor, one finds the entrance space, the main living room, the kitchen and a big dining room, a bathroom, a separate toilet and two guest bedrooms. Upstairs is reserved for a clothing room, another bathroom and the main bedroom while the rest of the rooms are turned into art studios of all sorts. The apartment is so distinctively Taehyung. Itis cozy, homey and filled with art history and you are currently spending your days in it. 

You and he left the estate behind to go on a romantic two-on-two trip to Paris. It is always bittersweet to leave the others behind, but you dearly needed some alone time. 

You have been in Paris for seven nights by now, tonight is the eighth, and you spent most of the time together. Ever since yesterday however, you and he have been spending less time together as normality in the apartment settled in. You didn’t mind. It is nice to live together and go about your day to day life. 

Taehyung has been at home for most of today, sculpting in his crafts room. You spent most of the day outside, cruising the secret shops of the supernatural world for some ingredients. One can never be stocked up enough for potion making.

It is already dark when you come home, locking the door and kicking off your shoes.

“Chéri, I’m home!” you call out in French. You are currently learning French and Korean with the help of your boys. Up until now, it’s been going really well. 

Taehyung appears in the hallway.

“Chèri, hello. How are you?” he greets you and says something you can’t understand quite yet.

“Say that again?”

He repeats it slowly, pointing at your bags.

“Ah! Yes, I got a few things. Seriously though, I underestimated how quickly natives speak. I felt lost sometimes”, you tell him in English.

“I understand, but you managed to communicate well?” he asks you in English as well.

“Yeah, thankfully. I can give you a haul of the things soon, but I really gotta pee.” 

“Don’t let me keep you from it. I shall carry the bags to the living room in the meantime. Or do you prefer them to be somewhere else?”

“No, the living room is perfect. You’re a darling. Thank you”, you say and hurry away before it is too late.

Taehyung is watching television again when you join him. You changed out of your outside clothes into a comfortable lounge set and freshened up. Taehyung put the bags on the coffee table, currently watching a French cooking show as he enjoys a glass of blood.

“That looks delicious.” 

“It does?” Taehyung asks, glancing at the blood in disbelief.

“No, not the blood. The food in the show.” 

“Ah, this makes more sense. Indeed, it looks rather appetizing. Shall we dine out tonight?” 

“No, it’s okay. I ate a burger before coming here.” 

“I see. Tomorrow then.” 

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

You climb on his lap, facing him. Taehyung shifts his eyes from the television to you. You take the glass out of his hand and put it on the coffee table. Then you turn the show off, looking at him with a flutter of your lashes.

“What is this?” he asks, studying your body. The lounge set you chose is expensive and a present by him. It hugs your curves seductively, making it difficult for him not to stare at your breasts. He isn’t subtle in his struggle. You like that he isn’t.

“I have a question for you”, you say, playing with his soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“You do?” 

You nod your head.

He cocks his left brow up, “go ahead, darling.” 

“Do you know the concept of free use?”

He widens his eyes, fingers twitching on your waist and thighs tensing.

“Darling you”, he begins, having to laugh breathily, “of course I do, but I do not understand why this is of importance right now.” 

“Because I’m going to free use you right now.”

“You are?” he croaks, tugging on his shirt collar because he suddenly feels hot beyond compare. 

“Mh-hm I am. I need an orgasm.”

You look into his eyes deeply. This is his chance to stop this. This is your silent, yet to him obvious, question for his consent. It won’t be spoken by you because you want to play into the entire free use aspect, but Taehyung knows your signs well enough not to need words. He can stop this right now and whenever he needs to. 

He doesn’t want this to stop. He is very down to fuck you. Very down. Ever since you sat down on his lap looking so pretty in your set, his mind has been spiralling.   

“O-okay”, he stutters, nodding his head. 

The consent was given.

“That’s what I thought. Not that I would have accepted anything else anyway”, you say and slip off his lap.

“Darling, heavens”, he gasps, stomach tingling unbearably. 

You open his pants, truly wasting no time. Taehyung moans softly, lifting his butt so you could undress him. You do it hastily, throwing his pants to the side. 

So now his lower body is bared while you kneel in front of him. He is completely soft, of course he is, and his breathing is still at a normal speed. You ought to change both of these things very, very soon.

“You’re so pretty when you’re soft, darling.” 

“Thank you, oh heavens.” 

“You know that I’m gonna have to make you hard though, don’t you?” 

“I do.” He opens his legs. “Do whatever you need to do, I can take it.” 

It is needless to mention that whatever is still in his borders of comfort, which you respect deeply. He feels safe in saying such big words and engaging in such a “dangerous” kink with you because of this respect. 

“Of course I’ll do anything I want to you, darling. You don’t have a say right now, remember?” 

His cock twitches slightly. You smirk, rubbing his inner thighs.

��Of course you know. The one who is in control is me and you are meant to be my little play doll.”

“Darling”, Taehyung whimpers, thrusting his hips against nothing. His cock twitches again, growing harder. 

“You’re my doll, Tae. All mine.”

His cock twitches into a semi hard boner, fingers gripping the edge of the sofa. You know exactly what to say to rile him up. Calling him a doll, reducing him to nothing but this will always be one of his weaknesses.

You purr, rubbing your hands over his sculpted thighs as you flutter your lashes up at him. His skin is so soft, the hair which covers it tickles your palms. You could eat him up.

“Isn’t that right, darling? Are you my pretty doll?”

“Yes, Owner”, he whimpers, nodding his head vigorously.

“Mh-hm you are, such a pretty doll. My pretty doll with his pretty, little doll cock”, you coo, letting your lips ghost over his cockhead without ever touching it.

It leaks and twitches as Taehyung whimpers above you. He is growing rapidly, breathing heavier. His hungry eyes are glued to your lips, every nerve in his body waits for the moment you decide to take him into your mouth.

Closer. Taehyung holds his breath.

Closer. Taehyung tries not to puck his hips up. A good doll would never.

Closer. He can practically feel your lips on his tip. The memories of all the times he was nestled in your warm mouth come rushing into his mind.  

Closer. Your breath tickles his cock. He throbs in anticipation.

Closer. Now. It is finally happening. Taehyung closes his eyes and rolls his head back in preparation.

“Actually. I changed my mind.”

He doesn’t want to open his eyes at first, scared to face his reality. In the end he has to however, facing your wicked smirk and burning eyes.

“I don’t wanna suck your cock, it’s boring.”

“What?” he gets out, eyes widening in pleading.

You stand up, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Masturbate yourself.”

It takes him a moment to conceptualise what you just asked him to do and once it finally sinks it, Taehyung swears he might never recover. He moans just for your pleasure, wrapping his left hand around his semi-hard cock to pump it quickly.

“No, no, no. Slow down.”

He obeys even if it means that there is something missing. He moves his hand at a normal pace, looking up at you like the good doll he currently wants to be. It feels good, but could be better.

“Slower.”

He obeys, eyes glazing over in agony. This isn’t enough. He is barely moving his hand around his cock, the stimulation is way too little for someone as needy as him.

“There we go. That’s more like it”, you purr, watching him hungrily.

“Owner”, he gets out, trying to make up for the loss of speed by keeping his touch focused on his tip.

“Is it not enough, mhm?”

“No”, he keens, shaking his head.

“Mhm, poor doll. How does it make you feel?”

“Restless.”

“Restless? You seem pretty restful to me.”

He squirms, widening his eyes in begging. It amuses you and so you chuckle.

“You’re funny, Tae.”

“Owner please”, Taehyung begs, fluttering his lashes.

But you ignore him, staying silent. You watch his hand as it touches his own cock. He is so slow. You know how much this agonises him. Taehyung might pretend to be a patient, proper gentleman but you know him, you know his most naked, disgusting truth. He is greedy, he is impatient and he likes it rough. You watched him jerk off a hundred times before, watched how he practically tortured his cock to an orgasm. This right now is a different kind of torture to him. The kind which makes him desperate.

Good. 

You can’t really explain what made you want to torture him all of a sudden. You blame the good day on it and your jeans rubbing your pussy as you walked around Paris. Or maybe it is Taehyung in his low cut shirt and hid dark hair messy. Something made you horny enough to want to be with Taehyung this way. To want to use him as you please. 

His cock is already harder than when he began. He is breathing heavier, eyes pleading you silently. 

“It’s working, isn’t it?” 

“Not enough.” 

“Poor doll. Does your doll cock need more?” 

“Yes”, he whimpers, growing harder. He squirms, “please.” 

“Mmh”, you bend down and grab his balls. They were squished on the sofa first but Taehyung lifts his hips in reaction, allowing you a good grip on them. You roll them in your fingers, fucking him with just your eyes. 

Taehyung whimpers, lips parted and droopy eyes staring into yours. Like this, you can smell his sweetened breath and taste the memory of all the kisses you shared. 

“Your balls are so heavy, darling. I want them to empty everything inside me.” 

His balls tighten, his poor cock throbs in his hand. Taehyung moans your name, chasing your kiss which results in you straightening up again. He whimpers, eyes glazing over. He wants your kiss like he wants air. 

“Faster.” 

He obeys gladly, writhing on the sofa. 

“More.” 

“___”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back in ecstasy now that it finally, fucking finally, is enough. It feels so good. His cock is hard instantly, pulsating between his long fingers. 

“Use your second hand as well.” 

Taehyung wraps it around his base, cursing in French because it feels way too good. 

“What did you just say?” 

“I said. Heavens on fucking earth, this feels good.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yes”, he mewls, rolling his hips up into his fists. His meaty thighs are trembling, his chest is heaving up and down quickly. He is throbbing like crazy in his hands, tip glistening in bliss.

"Take it away.”

“No, please.”

“Take it away. Now.”

“You’re cruel”, he croaks, obeying groggily. 

“Mhm I am. The cruelest”, you murmur, scanning your eyes over his leaking cock. His tip is flushed and his veins swollen. He is so wet, so hard. You can’t wait to sit on it. 

“Please, it hurts.”

“Poor you, awww.” 

You undress, only keeping your jewellery on. You feel so sexy like this and Taehyung’s hungry gaze makes these feelings even stronger.

You touch your own torso, feeling up your curves until landing on your tits. You knead them, purring softly. Taehyung opens and closes his mouth in hungry gasps, tongue almost dripping saliva.  

“What do you think of me, doll?” 

“That you are the most beautiful woman to have ever walked this earth.”

His praise pleases you, making your heart flutter.

“You know exactly what to say, you darling you.”

“Please”, he breathes, rolling his hips against nothing.

You close the distance and push at his chest to make him fall against the backrest. You climb onto his lap, wrapping your fingers around his cock. The other palm you present to him.

He eyes it in confusion, squirming under your weight because you are moving your hand around his length and it feels so good to him. Your palm is so warm, the pressure you use just right. 

“Spit on my hand”, you order, wiggling your fingers impatiently, “don’t let me wait.”

He obeys with a mewl, unable to catch his breath afterwards.

“There we go, so wet”, you purr, spreading it on his cock in slow, sensual strokes. 

Taehyung’s eyes fall closed halfway, his lips part. It feels so good to be touched. Your fingers and palm are so soft, stroking the most sensitive spots on his cock. Your pussy is on his thigh, marking his skin. So wet and warm. It drives him insane to be like this with you.

To make matters even worse for his poor sanity, you pucker your lips and spit on his cock in a thick, heavy drip. You pick it up and mix it with his own spit, using it to pleasure him.

Taehyung curses in Korean for a change, head dropping against the backrest and fingers dimpling your hips. 

“What did you say, darling?” 

“Fucking hell, it feels so good”, he croaks, squirming his hips needily.

“Mhhmh it does”, you coo, twisting your hand around his messy cock. “Now you’re getting wet. Your doll cock is so wet for me.” 

“Ah! Please!” 

“There we go”, you ignore him and lift yourself to align with his cock. You sink down, taking him inside easily. A deep purr rumbling in your chest lets him know how good it feels to you.

Taehyung shoots up in surprise, hands gripping your buttocks and eyes widening in shock. He wants to say something, but you silence him by stuffing your slickened fingers into his mouth. All four of them with your thumb under his chin. 

Taehyung gurgles, eyes going cross and mouth instantly working to suck you off. 

“Perfect, keep sucking”, you encourage him, moving your hips on him in a way which is pleasurable for you. Judging by his needy moans around your digits, it’s pleasurable for him as well but that’s not important right now. You are doing this for yourself, you are doing this because you want it. Taehyung is only supposed to be your dildo and a pretty thing to look at.

And oh how pretty he looks with his mouth gagged by fingers and drool dripping down his chin. His cheeks are flushed and wet from the tears he spills. Said tears also stick to his lashes in little pearls. You press down on his tongue, twisting your hand deeper. 

Taehyung gags, eyes going out of focus and body trembling. You let him suffer for three seconds, then finally pull out. Taehyung gasps for air, grasping your waist in relief. The relief isn’t for long and then you already have your wet hand around his throat, squeezing down on his veins. And Taehyung can’t keep up with all the sensations, body reacting against his control. 

He grows inside you, shaking as you make him see stars with only your hand. 

“That feels so good”, you moan, chasing the growing pleasure. You love when he fills you out to the very brim. The stretch is addicting and his size allows for your deepest spots to be pleasured as well. You chase the warmth by pressing yourself closer, clit grinding against his groin each time you roll your hips. 

Taehyung moans under you, fingers trembling around your waist and thighs shaking. He is very sensitive when he is with you. He is normally very proud of his stamina, but when you play him like this, he turns into an excited little teenager who climaxes after only a few minutes. He is giddy, turned on and completely ruined, trying to think of anything else to keep himself from climaxing without your permission.

The fire in your eyes and the strength of your grip lets him know that his disobedience would not be appreciated. Now granted, Taehyung loves punishments, especially your punishments, but he hates disappointing you. He hates it so much that he would rather miss out on getting punished than disobey you. Which makes this a lot harder for him.

“It’s too much. Too, too much.”

“I don’t care, shut up”, you spit and stuff your fingers into his mouth again.

Taehyung gags at first but begins sucking eagerly soon after, cock throbbing inside you and eyes spilling new tears.

“That’s better”, you lull your words, head foggy. The view is turning you on so much, sitting on his cock is so good. You can’t do that for long, you never can. You love being with him that climaxing is so, so easy. Knowing that he is close makes it even harder not to entirely break around him. But then. Why should you hold back? You have no reason to drag this out. You came here to get an orgasm nothing more, you don’t have to impress Taehyung.

You let go of your pride and fall into the sensations, rolling your head back and arching your back as you dance your hips on his in a fast, sensual rhythm. Your toes curl. His cock goes so deep, rubbing your favourite spots.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it”, you moan, smiling drunkenly as around you the air is dancing in ecstasy.

Taehyung’s desperate mewls around your digits are like music to your ears. He is probably crying right now, but you don’t care to check. You are high, so far gone in the warmth.

“You’ve got the best cock, doll. So fucking good…”

Taehyung is breathless, not only because you are stuffing his mouth, but also because of you. You are so beautiful, glowing in the ambience lights as you arch and bend your body in the most feminine and sensual display of pleasure. If only he could take pictures with his eyes. He is starstruck. He sucks on your digits with even more eagerness, running his hands along your body just so he could memorise it in the current position.

He cups your breasts, rubbing your nipples.

“Yes fuck”, you moan, arching into his touch. You tug him closer and slip your fingers free. Taehyung needs no words to understand, latching his eager mouth onto your nipples to pleasure them eagerly. He switches between both sloppily, soiling your chest with his drool.

“Tae, darling”, your voice is high in pleasure, body shaking atop of him. This is it. You slam your hips down, convulsing around his big cock.

Taehyung groans, dragging his slickened tongue over your nipple while his long fingers dimple your flesh.

“Now. Yes”, you keen, falling back as your high finally hits you.

Taehyung supports you easily, following your movements as his strong hands hold you safely. He sucks on your nipple eagerly, trying his hardest not to bite down on it. It is difficult because you have him so close to his own orgasm.

“Yes wow”, you come down, lifting yourself off of him instantly.

“No darling please”, he gasps, trying to tug you back.

But you act uninterested. He can sense in the way you move, see it in the way you breathe, that your orgasm left you shaken and that you are just pretending not to be affected. You climb off his lap, trying your hardest not to tremble.

“Darling”, he tries, hands slipping from your hips as you step back.

You don’t answer him, turning your back to him to leave.

“Jagiya”, Taehyung whimpers in Korean, grabbing your hand.

You turn, looking down at him.

“What? Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

He is panting, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. His cock is so hard and swollen and so, so clearly edged, still glistening from your juices.

“Please don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I got what I wanted.”

“Please.”

You slip your hand from his shaky hold and turn to leave.

“Jagiya please”, he begs in both languages, falling to his knees and grasping your shirt.

“Oop”, you wobble, almost losing balance. You turn from the momentum, holding his grabby hands for support. “What is this supposed to be?”

“Please, I know you don’t want to leave either. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good to you please”, he begs, looking up at you snotty and teary eyed.

“If you actually wanted to be good, you’d let me leave”, you say, doing a shitty job pretending that he leaves you cold. He knows you so well. Of course you don’t want to leave. Slipping off of him was the hardest thing you ever did, but sometimes you just gotta hear him beg.

“Please”, he sobs, hugging your waist and burying his face in your stomach, “please, I’m begging you.”

You gulp, feeling dizzy. His arms stretch the fabric of his shirt, bulging and tensing from the strength he grasps you with. He looks so pathetic begging on his knees and you get off to it so fucking good.

“Let me go”, you order in faux annoyance.

“Please”, Taehyung pleads and increases his own patheticness by slipping his hands under your shirt to scratch his nails down your back. And as he does that, he tilts his head back, connecting his mouth with your pleasured cunt.

“Tae”, you gasp loudly, loosing balance for a moment which you find by grabbing huge bundles of his thick hair. He has so much of it that it spills out between your fingers in such thick bundles you cannot even see your fingers in his locks anymore. “Holy fuck, Tae”, you moan, throwing your head back as you stumble closer to his face.

His desperation is so obvious in the way he licks you. He drools like an animal, unable to decide whether to suck the soul out of your clit or lick her senseless. These are definitely not the actions of a gentleman, these are the actions of a gentleman ruined by pussy way too good. This is the kind of head only someone brought to his limits gives, of someone who thought he could handle being used but who ended up way too weak for his goddess of a woman.

Taehyung lifts his head when desperation hurts in his heart and cock, drool dripping from his chin and fangs on full display. Thick strings of spit still connect him with your cunt, they are so heavy in consistency that they almost look slimy in the lights, only breaking apart once he begs again.

“Please, I can’t do this please.”

You furrow your brows and tug on his hair. He moans, tilting his head back with a roll of his eyes and his messy lips parting. Like this, you bend down so he can taste the poison of your words on the very tongue he used to almost steal your sanity.

“You’re a fucking slut.”

“Yes, the biggest”, he agrees with you in a pitched voice, nodding his head.

You tug harder, eliciting a pained whimper from him.

“Exactly, the biggest, most pathetic slut ever.”

Taehyung spills tears and tries to beg again. In French this time around because you have his brain scrambled enough that he can’t decide in which language to think.

“Please I’m sorry please.”

“You should be. Pathetic slut”, you spit and release his hair just so you can strike him across the cheek.

Taehyung moans, cock twitching so aggressively you almost pity it. Look at it, looking so desperate for something to keep it warm. Taehyung chases your hand after the slap, eyes looking at you even if they are constantly tearing up.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

He nods his head.

“Of course you did, you slut”, you say and slap his other cheek as well for symmetry.

Taehyung reacts in a curse, instantly following it up with a beg. Korean this time around.

“Please I’m sorry I-I’m a slut, I can’t do this please.”

“Fine”, you give up, “it’s not like I can get you to shut up.” You sigh in faux annoyance. “Go ahead, I guess. Get your reward.” 

“___”, Taehyung moans and is instantly standing up, swooping you off your feet just to push you down onto his thick cock. He bottoms out in synch with your back hitting the cold glass of the living room window, forcing a gasp for air out of you. You arch your back, grasping his hair just in time before he begins rutting into you like a needy animal.

“I love you”, he moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I bloody love you.” 

You wrap your limbs around him, face nuzzling into his shoulder and toes curling in electric pleasure.

“I love you too”, you get out, fingers grasping his thick hair. “Keep going, you’re so good. Ah fuck, you’re so good.”

“Urgh darling, I’m yours. I’m so fucking yours”, he spits, obeying your orders with eager, restless hips.

It feels so good to finally move, to finally fuck you how he craved to do. He doesn’t do it for himself, he does it for you because he knows that you love it. You love when he is rough, when he is strong and fast and when he drills his huge cock into your dripping pussy until you feel like passing out.

“Yes mine”, you croak, pulling him closer with your legs, “grinds Tae, grinds.”

“Yes, Owner”, he obeys, burying his cock as deep as he can go before he begins grinding you on him. He moves his hips for it, using his strength to move your body in the same rhythm.

“Ah! Wow, holy fuck”, you get out loudly, dropping your head against the window as you writhe in his arms. You twist his hair, pussy throbbing around him.

“You’re beautiful. You are so beautiful. And you feel so good. Darling, you feel so good”, he chants, spilling tears at the view of you.

“This is making me cum again, ah!”

“Let go, I’m yours to use. I’m all yours, this is all for you.”

“Tae”, you arch your back, grasping his face as the last thing you do before you orgasm a second time. It feels so much more intense than the first one because Taehyung is fucking it out of you and he is so goddamn good at that.

“Yes, thank you. Oh darling”, he whimpers, trying to slow down.

“No faster! Now!”

“I will climax if I-“

“Shut up! Faster!”

“Empress”, he sobs and obeys, picking up the same speed than before.

“Tae!” you scream, writhing in utter ecstasy as he finally brings you to the peak you craved. You squirt around his cock, soiling his legs and the floor this way. And Taehyung is a goner. With his eyes rolling back and his head dropping into your breasts, he climaxes against his will.

“I’m sorry”, he whimpers, filling you with his hot seed until it leaks out of you.

You can’t be angry at him, not when you enjoy it so much. You believed this moment couldn’t get any better until you felt his cock paint your walls. Finally you feel it, finally he is emptying his balls into you. Just how you ordered him to do.

“Good doll, such a good doll”, you mewl, entirely gone in the blissful heaven you and he share.

“Again, it’s so good”, Taehyung wails because your praise ruins him. He thought that you would be disappointed, but you are proud. You wanted him to orgasm. Oh, he wants to fill you even more and he does, pumping into you until you feel warm in your stomach and his balls are truly empty.

He uses the last of his strength to hurry to the sofa and then he drops into the pillows with you on top of him. The two of you are filling the silence with heavy panting, staying glued together as your bodies are just a little stiff in shock. This was way more intense than you planned it to be. Is it truly this addicting to be with each other?

You are the first to recover just enough that you can at least lift your head. He meets your gaze with barely open eyes, messy hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“Good boy”, you praise.

“I love you”, he gets out.

“I love you too”, you say and smile.

Taehyung retorts it, giving your hips a tender squeeze.

“Are you okay? I know I was mean to you. How is your face? Did I slap you too hard?”

“Everything you did was perfect. Thank you so much.”

“This is so good to hear”, you say and nuzzle your nose into his cheek with a cute sound.

Taehyung has to giggle because of it, face scrunching up into the brightest boxy smile and eyes closing. His chest fills with warmth, his stomach flutters.

“Wow, I’m so obsessed with you.”

“You are?”

“Mhm, so obsessed. I missed you today and I just…I saw you and needed you. I don’t wanna be apart from you, Tae darling. Being with you is paradise.”

“Yes it is”, he agrees and turns his head to steal a surprise kiss.

“Mhm”, you let out, startled at first before you purr and kiss him back. Your fingers lace themselves deep in his hair, he hugs you against his chest and like this, you fall into slow kisses and tender touches, making the paradise last so much longer.

[speadrunner]

Who is (actually) the hottest Monsters & Girls character?

Link to poll: https://www.tumblr.com/idolomantises/745892368364060672

CW: This will be a long post;

(Note: this is completely for comical purposes, please don’t take this too seriously. I have all the respect in the world for @idolomantises and their work)

1. Sera

👍: Perhaps the titular character of the series, Sera is beautiful angel (literally) and is arguably the kindest character in the whole series

👎: I challenge you to draw this woman without screaming at yourself/into a pillow

2. Lili

👍: Endearing, welcoming, understanding, and can be very fun. Pretty much wears her heart on her sleeve with how open she is.

👎: Literally THE sexy character. It’s obvious why you picked her as the hottest, now go get better tastes.

3. Cheri

👍: She’s sooo soft omg. She’s so sweet you’ll have a sweet tooth just for her even if you don’t like sweets

👎: I will not talk ill of this lady because I literally cannot, but for all intents and purposes this is a contest to see who is the hottest, not the most wholesome. Sorry 🫡

4. Junior

👍: Blunt and cute, plus a goat. Cute goats are always an A+ character design. Where would we be without them tbh?

👎: Bluntness can lead to rudeness and or discomfort. Nothing super bad about Junior just prob not the best choice for this. Just sayin

5. Scylla

👍: Lord have mercy I understand where people are coming from. Hooo doggy what a woman.

👎: I can’t remember the exact post but I recall it being said that she bites your head off or something if you get too close or look at her weird. That’s no good

6. Ciel

👍: Easily one of my favorite designs. He’s definitely the prettiest boy of the entire cast

👎: One of those cases where he’s too good for you, ya know what I mean? He’s way out of your league I don’t make the rules

7. Catty

👍: Nya~ Very fashionable going off of recent appearances. Design hasn’t changed too much in comparison to others, meaning that

👎: I like dogs more, plus she’s not open with her thoughts and feelings, leading to awkward moments when she lets it all out

8: Luvart

👍: Big, beefy, strong, fire. Need I say more? She treats sex workers with respect for their profession and would be a completely package when you don’t consider…..

👎: …She has no qualms murking you just because and her greatest offense is being the arch rival of the best character a special someone

9: Adam

👍: Dude can become a dog for you to pet and is quite honest in most cases. Plus those scars look neat wouldn’t you say?

👎: Unless you are a - former angel now fallen, a TV show host, have a broken halo, while simultaneously sharing a name with a pizza company and a game tile, then you ain’t getting nothing.

10: Domino

👍: I can see why so many are stricken by this fella, he’s quite cute, quirky, and has an adorable way of being blunt

👎: (Domi- No hoes) He’s just not good enough. He seems so ideal at face value but he berates angels to the moon and back and for what? His fault for his own downfall.

With all that said, clearly the hottest character of Monsters and Girls - for appearance AND character - is obviously….

POWERS

LITERALLY PERFECTION IN ITS PUREST FORM! CHISELED LIKE A GREEK GOD(DESS), ROSE TO BE AN ANGEL - REJECTING HER DEMONIC ORIGINS, FOLKS IT JUST DOESNT. GET. BETTER!

A Vote For Powers Is A Vote For Truth, Love, And Happiness!! Vote For Powers in the Home Stretch Now!

[throneofsapphics]

Can i ask for something similar to it only takes three azriel x reader but like where reader struggles with an ed and suicidal thoughts and it gets really bad

If not thats ok I understand that can be triggering i loved how you wrote for it inly takes three it was good I really enjoy your writhing your very talented 🤍

from the shadows 

Summary: “It would’ve been nice, you supposed, if he’d cared before you were already balancing on the edge.”

Warnings: toxic parents/friendships, ed, suicidal ideation, drinking, depression 

Word Count: ~2.7k 

A/N: ahh you’re so kind, thank you for the request!

Did you want someone to notice? Not really. These battles were supposed to be your own to fight. Every time you’d brought it up to your parents, they told you it means you need to be stronger, that your mind is weak. 

You stared at the food in front of you, waging a mental war with it. Each time you tried to touch food, words and memories would slide into your mind. 

The half-finished plate is pulled away from you. “Don’t eat too much, dear,” your mother tutted.

Closing your eyes, you let out a long breath. 

“Are you going to eat that?” Cassian asked. 

“All yours,” you pushed it towards him. He shot you a grateful grin, and slid your food onto his plate. You could’ve sworn you saw a muscle in Azriel’s jaw flex, but he didn’t say a word. 

You registered everything, but none of it held any meaning. Nothing mattered, you were trapped in this endless void. Haze clouded your world. Muted colors, dimmed voices, even the air surrounding you felt lifeless. Each smile a facade, each action and response carefully measured, everything designed to make it seem fine. To make you seem fine. 

There wasn’t any other option. Anything else felt like failure to you. Weak, weak, weak. Each time you’d reached out before - every time to your parents or old friends, your hand was slapped away with a scathing gaze and cutting remark. 

‘Just deal with it.’ 

‘You’re being dramatic.’ 

‘Stop looking for attention.’ 

So you did. Everything stayed inside - under firm lock and key. Your conscience argued against itself, you had different friends now. Friends that gave the appearance of caring, that seemed genuine -

“Hey,” a voice called, a hand waving in front of your face. Blinking, you brought your consciousness back into the present. Mor. “Where did you go?” 

Was that concern or worry in her tone? Maybe. 

“Just a memory,” you forced a smile you hoped was reassuring. She didn’t look convinced. From your peripheral, you spotted narrowed hazel eyes watching you, a shadow swirling around the bearer's ear. “What do you have planned for today?” You deflected. 

Mor, face still lined with a tinge of worry, took the bait. 

-

Laying on the bedroom floor, studying the dips and whirls of the ceiling, the hard wood surface dug into your back. Today was the day you’d decided to say something. To build up the courage to ask for help. Azriel, who you’d always gone to. It was getting bad enough you knew something needed to change, and you were the only one who could start it. ‘Asking for help makes me strong,’ you reminded yourself. 

The door creaked open, and you knew who it was before he saw you. Maybe you should be embarrassed, getting caught like this. But … you’ve already hit the bottom, and it didn’t matter anymore if others saw it.  

A scarred hand loomed in front of you, coming from an amused looking Azriel. You took it, and his fingers closed around you, warm and comforting. He yanked you to your feet - hard enough you stumbled forward a few steps, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. 

“You’re lighter than I remember,” he commented, scanning over your body. Your shoulders lifted and fell. Azriel frowned, but dropped your hand - leading you out of the room instead. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice was rough. When was the last time you’d spoken to someone? Working in the library, doing research, didn’t require it, and people were rarely around the townhouse. 

“Meeting,” he answered - his voice a bit short. Like he was annoyed you had to ask. You dropped his hand.

A meeting nobody had told you about. 

“I didn’t know.” 

He cast a sidelong glance at you, studying you briefly, deciding if you were lying or not. When had he started questioning that? Throughout all of these years, you’d provided him with nothing but honesty. Azriel, your close friend and on and off lover. 

Maybe he read the confusion on your face. 

“You’ve been hiding something.” 

That made you pause in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” 

“What do you mean?” Fury rose in you, heart pounding, chest tightening, face blazing. 

Azriel stood there, watching you with that cool quiet. Long enough you realized it was a tactic, waiting for you to offer up information. Like you were one of the prisoners he interrogated. Gods, your anger only grew and grew. 

“Ask me,” your fists clenched. “Ask me what’s wrong.” 

His mouth tightened at the corners, a sign you were testing his patience. 

A clock ticked in your head, counting each second, both of you staring at each other - seeing who would speak first. Thirty. That was it for you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning on your heel. If he didn’t have the decency to ask, you wouldn’t tell him a damn thing. 

Azriel expected you to offer everything up on a silver platter. To come to him for everything, like you had in the past. 

You were about to, and now you felt like a fool for even thinking of it. 

For all this time, you thought you’d kept it hidden well enough that nobody noticed. Now it’s clear - he’d seen something, and chosen to ignore it, watching from his shadows and not doing a damn thing. If the person you trusted the most saw you struggling and didn’t bother, what does that mean? 

It meant you weren’t going to crawl all the way to someone who wouldn’t move an inch for you. 

You prayed you’d somehow find the strength to deal with this on your own. 

Feet and instinct guiding, you found yourself down by the Sidra - a secluded area. You fell, gravel digging into your knees and palms, hands pulling at your hair. A shield wrapped around you, cloaking you from sight and sound. Nobody could hear your screams, and right now - that’s the way you wanted it. 

Distantly, you heard the rain clattering on your shield, the sound normally would bring comfort - but now it felt like some kind of beating drum, like a haunting melody. Light flashed in your vision, streaking across the sky before striking the ocean. Maybe it would hit you too. 

Screaming. It could have been hours or minutes you sat there, tears flooding from your eyes and throat burning. It was supposed to make you feel better, but if anything it got worse. Numbness overtook you, drowning out every other sensation. You could fall off a cliff and feel nothing, maybe until your broken body hit the rocks below. 

Weak. Weak. Weak. 

Was it that? Or did it make you strong enough to end your own suffering? 

Different images flooded your mind. Fighting back a laugh at one of Mor’s presents, offering your thanks instead. Watching live music in the rainbow. Azriel taking you flying for the first time. 

Like cold rain, the thought of him pulled you out of your mind. What would he say if he saw you like this? Probably nothing, but he’d think you’re pathetic. 

Good thing you didn’t give a damn what he thought anymore. You stood, brushing the gravel from your knees and palms, frowning at the small indents left behind on your palms, and let the shield disappear. 

This was where the Sidra tumbled out into the ocean. The rocky cliff, seldom frequented, where you could truly be alone. 

You didn’t really want to die … but you took another step towards the edge, peering closer. This way wouldn’t be quick, your body would break but you’d lie on the rocks below for hours, maybe trapped between them - slowly drowning under the waves. 

“Y/n,” someone called - and you startled, body starting to launch over -

Shadows curled around you, dragging you back several feet, Azriel’s arms wrapped around your waist - holding you tight. “I’ve been looking for you,” he murmured, still holding tight. 

At least your shield had done its job. Still, he was the last person you wanted to see right now. Catching him by surprise, you stomped on his insole and wiggled out of his grip - just like he’d taught you. Taking a few steps, not daring to turn your eyes away from him, you watched something like fear cross over his features. 

He held his hands up, palms facing you. “Stop, please.” 

Water sprayed against your calves. You’d gotten close to the edge again, without noticing. Looking over your shoulder, it would only take a few more steps. 

Do it,  the demon in your head screamed at you. He’d be relieved. 

Turning your gaze back to him, worry shone there. It would’ve been nice, you supposed, if he’d cared before you were already balancing on the edge. There was no doubt his shadows would interfere if you got any closer, but for now he was giving you a choice. Letting you choose to walk away from the edge. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand turned - reaching out to you instead. Teeth tugging into your bottom lip, you realized there was a decision to make.

It really wasn’t much of a decision at all, you ignored his hand, and brushed past him - making for the Townhouse. 

-

Like an annoying guard dog, Azriel trailed you the rest of the way home. You didn’t see him, but you could feel his presence - moving through the shadows. You’d walked away, hadn’t you? He could leave you the fuck alone now. 

Stopping for a bottle of wine, you made your way back to your bedroom. Meeting forgotten. Leaning your back against the door, a bit of magic popped the cork out. Funny, wine was one of the few things you could tolerate now. Maybe because of the release it brought. 

You scented him, then heard a knock. You ignored it. 

A sigh, and the sound of someone sliding against wood. 

-

Azriel wouldn’t leave you, not like this. His shadows peered inside to tell him what you were doing. Sitting against the door, drinking right from the bottle. He could feel your warmth through the wood, a barrier separating the two of you. He mirrored your position. 

If you didn’t want him inside, that was fair enough, he still wouldn’t leave. Not when you were just standing on the edge of a fucking cliff. Two hours spent searching for you when he noticed a small disturbance in the rain - droplets displaced before they struck the ground, and decided to wait a few minutes. Just in time for you to appear. 

You’d always come to him in the past, and it was wrong for him to expect you to again. He’d already cast a thought out to Rhys and told him to clear everything for the next week. 

Azriel had just nodded off, when he heard movement. He barely had time to stand before the door swung open, spotting you - half empty bottle of wine on the floor, bracing your hand on the wall next to the door. 

“You can leave.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

The door slammed shut again. Fine, he could wait. 

-

“Talk to me,” Azriel pleaded and grabbed both of your hands, squeezing, his thumbs running over your knuckles. You ripped them away from him, shooting him a scathing look and storming past into the dining room. Inviting him in had been a mistake. The intent was to prove you were fine, and tell him he could stop hovering on your doorstep, but if anything he seemed more worried at the end. 

You couldn’t hear anyone else in the house. Good. You didn’t want to deal with anyone. Sitting at the dining table, a plate appeared in front of you - a single muffin. One of your favorites. Swallowing harshly, you reached one shaking hand out for it. 

Inches away, your hand fell to the table. Fuck. 

Just one bite, you told yourself. 

Steeling yourself, you reached again. Trembling fingers peeled back the paper, and you brought it to your lips. The scent of blueberries filled you, and the feeling of crusted sugar brushed against your lips. 

One bite.

“Hey,” you heard Mor. The spell broke, and you dropped the muffin back on the plate. “Don’t let me stop you,” she winked, pulling out the seat across from you. Her own muffin appeared, and she took a bite herself - moaning at the taste. 

Somehow, that helped, and you took one of your own. 

-

You hadn’t noticed him, thankfully, but Azriel watched from the shadows and felt like an idiot. Somehow, Mor’s presence for a few minutes brought more light to your eyes than he’d seen in months. Or maybe it was that you managed to eat some of that muffin. 

Those hours he sat outside of your door … had they been worthless? 

Maybe, maybe not, but at least he’d proven he was there for you - even if it was a bit too late. 

If you didn’t want him physically in your proximity, he could wait in the shadows. 

Waiting didn’t help before.

He’d read the expression on your face - on that cliff, and understood your anger. 

Azriel was waiting for you to come to him, when he should’ve been the one reaching out. 

Walking out of hearing range, his palm slammed against the wall, forehead resting on the cool wood. If he couldn’t do this one damned thing right, what did that say about him? 

-

For a while, Azriel really did think you were getting better. You smiled more, ate more, and had a spark of life in you. But, as the weeks went on, he saw you draw further into yourself. Plate half full, eyes dull. This time, he’d actually do something about it - even if you shoved the door in his face. 

Your door was already open, so he pushed a bit further, knocking. 

Bleary eyed, you lifted your head from your desk and sighed, but jerked your head. He surveyed your room, taking in the books piled everywhere, empty bottles, clothes strewn over chairs haphazardly. A mess. 

“What do you want?” The words weren’t sharp or cutting - although he’d prefer that to the emptiness in your voice. The bleakness of your expression, even though he could only see your profile - eyes unfocused on the book in front of you. 

“You’re struggling. Again.” Not the most eloquent, but he got right to the point. 

“What’s it to you?” Narrowed eyes finally looked up at him. Cautious. Wary. Even months ago, you’d never looked at him like that before. 

“I care about you.” Maybe he expected your eyes to soften - to show some kind of understanding, but if anything they only hardened further. You didn’t believe him. He tried a different tactic. “Is it that hard to admit you need help?” 

“Yes,” your voice rose, but he didn’t take a step back or flinch. He could deal with your anger, anything’s better than the distance, and that veritable wall you put up between them.  

“Why?” 

“It means i’m weak,” the first tears lined your eyes as you shifted in your chair to face him. He could see all of the sharp angles of your face, even more defined now - and not in a good way. There was no shine to your hair or eyes, none of that normal glow to your skin. 

“You don’t believe that.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I know you.” 

A sigh, and your hand ran down your face. “Why are you here, Az?” 

“I don’t like seeing you … hurting.” 

“You didn’t bother before,” you countered. 

“And I regret that,” cautiously, he reached out and grabbed your hand. You didn’t protest or fight him, and he took that as a good sign, letting his other hand brush away one of your tears, the droplet catching on his thumb. Even with the tear gone, he brushed his thumb across your cheek again, savoring the smooth feeling of your skin. Ever so slightly, you leaned into him. Catching yourself, you jerked back, but didn’t let go of his hand - if anything you seemed to grip onto him tighter. As if he might disappear and leave you by yourself again. That wouldn’t happen. 

“I don’t know how you can help.” 

His thumb brushed back and forth over your knuckles. “We can figure that out.” 

The slightest smile appeared on your face, and lingered. 

azriel taglist: @acourtofinkandpapyrus if anyone wants to be added please let me know!

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible. 

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective. 

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind. 

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex. 

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement.  You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island. 

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.” 

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.” 

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals,  you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

 You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?” 

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.” 

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…” 

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.” 

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake? 

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…” 

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is. 

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice. 

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.” 

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?” 

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back. 

“You want me just as much.” 

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms. 

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.” 

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?” 

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout. 

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars. 

“Please, please, please.” 

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.” 

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet. 

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more. 

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?”  You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.” 

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?” 

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you. 

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @a-reader-and-a-writer @hookslove1592 @mshistorylover @hangmanssunnies @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[rh3maji]

Lil rant abt Caine

Caine is just a lil guy, despite it all. From a design standpoint I thought I was gonna absolutely fucking hate looking at him because those chattering teeth toys make my skin crawl- but the art direction really helps make him look more appealing and whimsical than a disembodied pair of talking dentures sounds on paper.

The thing with Caine is I didn't initially like him that much after the pilot. While his interactions with Bubble were quite funny, that one episode left me feeling like he'd just end up being kinda one note or at the very least one note in a way that'd get on my nerves. Then everything changed when Pomni Wake Up Time to Go On an Adventure! attacked

The comedic timing throughout that announcement video was so fucking funny and thanks to his line deliveries and animation/model [?] upgrades- CAINE LOOKED AND SOUNDED SO ADORABLE!!

Legit it wasn't until this came out that I realized I actually could be on board with Caine as a character and it's been uphill from there. Episode 2 was better than the pilot not only comedically and visually but also in terms of showcasing just how actually unsettling Caine can be as an antagonist. Not because he's vengeful or malicious, but because he's so oblivious to how people work. His mind's always buzzing with terrible ideas and he's so so eager about these adventures, but at the end of the day he really really doesn't get the circus crew. Try as he might to include them, keep them engaged [ZOOBLE WAIT!], or even give them what they want [Exit doors] he doesn't realize how traumatic and distressing their current situation can be. The very nature of being trapped in a digital world is bad enough but it's especially rough here bc not only does its god have limited capabilities, you also are very well acquainted with him, and he can't fully understand your pain nor can he truly save you from it. He won't mourn your abstraction. He will not attend your funeral. He will not understand the distress of your arrival, nor the weight of your departure.

This isn't just sad from the pov of the circus gang, it's also very sad for Caine- not because i think he'll ever feel sad about it himself necessarily, but instead because the situation is sad. New members appear over and over, you craft adventures and games and distractions like [i'm assuming] they'd asked you to, but over and over, one by one, they abstract. They stop laughing at your jokes. They don't like you. They want you to leave them alone. It's confusing and maybe even inconvenient.

Where I'm hoping the series takes Caine is that this dissonance between Caine's intentions and the distress of the circus gang gets worse and worse and worse until something's got to give. I'm hoping that maybe at some point a character will try to sit down and talk with him and for it to either sorta get through to him but completely backfire in some form because he misinterprets what the others want from him OR i'd also be down for him to listen, but not understand any of it and proceed as tho nothing happened. I don't want Caine to come around really, it'd be interesting to see how Goose would go about having him come around to being a better host that empathizes more with humans, but personally I do prefer him to keep on keepin' on being this oblivious and eager antagonist.

My favorite Caine lines/line deliveries so far:

"You, my friend, stumbled into an incredible world of wonders, where anything can happen!…e-except for swearing."

"And here we have THE GROUNDS! Drown yourself in the digital lake, or engage in ridery at the digital carnival!"

"What do you think of XDDCC? You're right, terrible, LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN!"

"Kaufmo abstracted? Why didn't anybody tell me?"

"Bubble you can't say that"

"-ZOOBLE WAIT!"

"Why are you all just standing there?! The- The Canyon- C-Candy Canyon Kingdom needs you now!" [according to his VA, this was an actual line flub but hoo boy am i glad they use it bc it's hilarious]

"I know you guys love your NPCs, but if I start losing track of who's a human and who's an NPC, who knows...what. could. happen..."

That last line there specifically surprised me the most because up until he said that I was under the impression Caine was linked to every single NPC. I even thought he could see through their eyes if he so chose thanks to his "hundreds of all seeing eyes" line in the pilot. Him saying this here implies lots of things. Has Caine forgotten before? Is someone in the circus secretly an NPC ooooooooh~

"Who knows what could happen..."

Honestly, when Caine first said this I did immediately theorize Jax as being an NPC but now that it's been *checks calendar* three months since I watched episode 2, I don't think this is the case anymore. Jax being an NPC would be...something. Jax not knowing he's an NPC would be interesting [i like it when ppl's realities get shattered], but honestly I think this line was a way to telegraph to the audience that no Caine isn't actually all knowing. He didn't know Gummigoo was coming through that portal until he saw him with his own two eyes. My theory is that Caine is only able to teleport, create, censor, transform, and destroy the world around him, but isn't able to see all of it at once unless he tries to. I think Caine's default state is one where he only knows what he sees directly in front of him/what he himself has left waiting for someone else. And rather than implying someone in the gang is an NPC, I think that line in episode 2 was mainly implying Caine can be tricked, that it's possible to hide something from him, to surprise him even. Though I'm not opposed to an NPC we haven't met trying to join under the guise of being human, it'd potentially create some fun tension assuming the audience was given enough reason to care about them.

Jax is actually my favorite character in tadc, but i couldn't fill an entire post with things to say abt him. Caine seems to be- at least as of right now- the easiest of all the characters to try and wrap my head around. I'll probably have a lot more to say about Jax as he exists in canon as the episodes come out [EPISODE 6 MY BELOVED]

but uhhhh yeah, that's all the things i had to say abt Caine. Pls go watch/listen to the fansong Digital Land bye!

[the-modern-typewriter]

This is a continuation of the poll story. All winning bits so far included below.

The sands devoured the landscape in every direction, a gaping yawn of yellows and reds. The protagonist's throat scorched dry. The last drops of their water bottle had been drained two hours ago.

They staggered another step forward on the dunes, squeezing their eyes shut against the breeze that somehow did nothing to alleviate the heat. They raised a hand to shield their face.

When they opened their eyes again, the antagonist stood in front of them. They looked as cool as ever, untouched by blistering day or the surprisingly freezing night.

"How is your great escape going?" the antagonist asked. They flicked their fingers, magic summoning a sweet pool of water into the inviting cup of their palm. "Are you ready to come home yet, darling?"

The protagonist's breath caught.

"Do you really think?" The antagonist stepped closer, holding their watery hand up to the protagonist's lips. "That distance alone will be enough to shatter the connection between us? This is silly. You know I don't like to see you suffer."

The protagonist let the antagonist feed them a drop of water. A moment of weakness, perhaps. Or maybe just the familiarity of them, of the bond rattling in their chest. The thirst and the hunger.

"Then close your eyes, love," they replied. "Look away and you won't have to."

The antagonist snorted. Their hand moved, swiftly, to cup the nape of the protagonist's neck.

"As if I've ever been able to keep my eyes off you from the moment we met."

It was idiotic, but the protagonist still smiled at that. Pained. Heart-punched.

Even with all the miles upon miles between them, the protagonist felt the touch like something real. Solid. Like the antagonist could always step through time and space and be there, so long as they were twined together.

The protagonist forced themselves to pull back.

If they let themselves linger too long, they really would go back.

Home.

It would be so much easier if it didn't still feel like that was what it was.

The antagonist's expression hardened, at the distance, the quiet refusal. At least, they tried. "I don't want you to suffer. I don't want to send legions after you. You deserve better than to be hunted like a common criminal."

"Like a prized stag."

The antagonist swallowed, but didn't protest.

The protagonist shrugged, as if it were really that easy. "Then don't hunt me. I've already escaped. Let me go."

"I don't want to," the antagonist said, with a dreadful tenderness. "But I will."

The protagonist sucked in a sharp breath, even if they had already suspected as much.

"You know I'll catch you," the antagonist pressed. "Do you think this desert and all the shifting sands of the world would be enough to hide you from me? Do you think there's anywhere you can run where I can't follow?"

"No," the protagonist said. "But I bet I can get to where I'm going first."

The antagonist's jaw clenched. "This is a courtesy," they said. "Run fast. Run hard. Because when I catch you, you will never run again."

And then they vanished, like they'd never been there at all.

There were very few ways to break a soulmate bond. Such things were designed to last forever after all. The protagonist staggered their way across the desert until they reached the oasis.

It sounded nice, a little like paradise. The oasis. But the waters of the forbidden oasis were a dangerous thing; they changed a person, lured them in, took them if they could.

The pool before them was perfectly clear, beautifully blue, and yet it was a chasm, falling deep down into the sand until the light could no longer illuminate the water. Sloping trees provided a whisper of shade against the scorching sun and biting winds. Soft mounds of impossible moss and wildflowers invited any weary traveler to be welcome, sit, rest and stay a while.

The protagonist fell to their knees by the edge of the water.

Option A

The antagonist appeared next to them. It wasn't a surprise, but the protagonist still felt their heart beat a little faster.

"Where are your legions now?" the protagonist asked. "Your hunters and your cages? You're too late. I said you would be."

"Is being mine so terrible that you would rather die?" The antagonist returned. "Don't do it."

"I might not die."

"Please."

That, somehow, was a surprise. That single soft broken word.

Option B:

The antagonist found them - the protagonist wasn't sure how long later. Everything in them hurt like someone had scooped their heart out of their chest, diced it, and shoved the ruined pieces back inside in all the wrong order.

They had a vague approximation of a heart. They had a wound.

So why could they still see the antagonist? The phantom should have been impossible. They had sacrificed so much to be free. Too much, maybe.

The antagonist crouched down with a pitying sigh, stroking their fingers through the protagonist's hair. A wretched sob caught in the protagonist's throat and they lilted in.

There was no soul-comfort. No completion. No fuzzing bond. No...

The antagonist was really there.

The protagonist gasped, eyes that had eased closed snapping open once more. They struggled to force their pained body upright.

The antagonist's fingers tightened on their throat in an instant, considering.

"You really did it," the antagonist murmured. "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. Tell me." They pressed a hand, nails digging in, where the protagonist's heart technically still was. "What do you imagine I'm going to do with you now?"

Option C:

Figures danced, miraged, in the reflection of the water. Memories swam before the protagonist's eyes.

The first time they had met the antagonist, when everything had just felt so right. A hand reaching out for them, drawing them close across a dance hall, never quite letting go since.

The protagonist trailed their fingers across the surface, shattering the past in a thousand ripples. They leaned in, raw want and terror, as they cupped the water in their palms.

The next moment, figures dropped from the trees. They leapt upon the protagonist in an instant, hands rough and cruel as they dragged them away from the pool and all its complicated promises.

The antagonist appeared in front of them, no tenderness left. No thing just for the two of them.

"You're right, of course," the antagonist said. "I can't get to where you're going faster than you can. But did you really think I would not guard against this possibility? Do you think I would underestimate you so? Understand you so poorly?"

The protagonist gasped, choking out a breath as a boot slammed into their gut.

"This is a trap," they managed. "You -"

"You should have ran." The antagonist blurred in and out of their vision. "You should have kept running, and running, never stopping, instead of trying to do this. Then maybe, just maybe, you could have won."

[saijspellhart]

Things I liked about the Netflix ATLA and some critiques:

Before you read. Please go watch the series, take off your blinders and keep an open mind. It’s surprisingly good. This review has spoilers.

They reordered some scenes so that emotional moments would have a larger pay off. Like getting to see and experience Aang’s relationship with Monk Gyatsu, and seeing his tribe before it was destroyed. So when he has his breakdown in the air temple with Sokka and Katara later, you really feel and understand his agony.

Azula is introduced earlier, with a story running simultaneously with the Aang’s journey but not involved with his. So she has a chance to be more fleshed out and explored before she becomes a major threat. Only time will tell if this more complicated Azula comes close to the animated one. Big shoes to fill, but not a bad start.

Fire Lord Ozai plays a more sinister and oppressive role. Not a faceless boogeyman anymore. You get to see his machinations and the cruel games he’s playing with his family, and see the emotional abuse that warps them.

Appa is adorable as fuck, and so is Momo. So well animated, such gorgeous care put into them.

Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Roku make more of an appearance. With Kyoshi narrating the prologue. And if you loved the novels you’ll see they incorporated more of Kyoshi and Kuruk’s backstory from the novels than what we saw in the animated cartoon.

The acting was competent, even if a little wonky at times. I found Sokka very endearing, I loved the kid they cast as Aang and you can tell they really tried to find a balance between serious and playful. They didn’t always hit it, but the effort was there.

Zuko was great. I think they nailed him and he had great chemistry with the actor playing Iroh.

King Bumi was great, I love how they made his internal struggles more complex. He wasn’t just a crazy old man anymore. He was a crazy old man who was weary and worn down by the horrors of loss and war. A crazy old man who struggled to reconcile that the best friend he lost is the avatar and wasn’t there for him.

I loved the costume and set design. It was like stepping into the actual world of ATLA. Cities were complex and well constructed. Every setting was incredible and the attention to detail was intense.

Zuko’s boat is full of artifacts he pilfered from the Air Nomads while hunting for the avatar.

They changed how Aang got the bison whistle so it makes more sense and fits more seamlessly into the story. It never made sense why a random peddler would be selling a bison whistle if air nomads and bison have been gone for 100 years. Not impossible for a peddler to do, but not probable. The Netflix series actually gave more meaning for the artifact and changed how Aang received it.

Emotional points in the show are now more intense and brought me to tears.

Commander Zhao is more competent and conniving, and his presence felt more dangerous and less comedic.

Sokka’s outright sexism was changed from putting girls down, to just manly machismo, talking himself up. Not gone, but not degrading. They decided to let the sexism message shine more prominently with the northern water tribe, rather than tackle it twice with Sokka too. (Sokka’s sexism being solved in one episode was never well written to begin with. And the animated series quickly forgot about it and moved on to him tackling more important issues, like his being a non bender inadequacy, his leadership journey, his physical combat journey, and him finding himself as more than just the funny sarcastic guy.) For time constraints, it was better the Netflix series did not to tackle the same problem twice, especially when you might not have the resources to give both sexism issues the gravity it deserves. By focusing the sexism problem to the northern water tribe they were able to give Katara more attention.

We got to see Katara’s water-bending go from being ultra sloppy and weak to badass. It feels like they are spending more time focusing on her developing into a warrior rather than being the mom of the group. I’m honestly not sad about it. She’s still the hope ridden, emotional glue, but now it feels like she explores that warrior side a little deeper. It felt so earned when she got the title of master at the northern water tribe finale.

The actor playing uncle Iroh nailed the role. I couldn’t think of a better live action adaptation of Iroh. I love him so much.

The shirshu looks fucking phemonal.

Koh was scary as fuck and I love it. They really nailed his horror elements. Even if I’m a little sad that they changed some things about his face stealing. (He eats faces now to steal them, rather than stealing when someone shows emotion.)

The three actresses who play Mei, Azula and Tailee actually look appropriate for their age. Since they are introduced earlier, they are clearly younger, and since this show is intended to get more seasons, the casting choice made sense as we are intended to watch these girls grow up over the course of the entire show. These actors will get older, and the characters will get more menacing and sharper. It’s great. It’s thoughtful. I love it.

We get to see Zuko’s dynamics with his crew more. And find out that he did more than just speak out against his father at that meeting. His outburst at that meeting saved an entire squad of soldiers, and they don’t even know it. Zuko feels such disdain and bitterness because of the situation, and his crew doesn’t even know why. It’s so complex, you can see how the abuse Zuko endured causes him to take out his anger on his crew, and in turn they are bitter back. And it’s this cycle, that festers. But the crew also grows with Zuko, they change and evolve as he evolves. And it’s such a delight to watch.

They could have cut the Secret Tunnel minstrels altogether, given the time constraints and that the episode was mostly fluff in season two. A fun romp, but not necessary. But the creators knew people loved the minstrels so they found a way to use them anyway. Because they knew they were special. I am thankful for that, even if they show up waaay earlier than they should.

I was honestly more sold on Sokka and Suki’s relationship in the live action. It’s was so adorkable. Do I wish it had more time to develop? Yeah, of course I love a good slow burn. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun as hell watching the two flirt so badly with each other. Sokka being a buffoon, and Suki overstepping and being too rough, before realizing she was being too hard.

Some Critiques:

They reordered some episode storylines to happen at the same time, and while it does bloat some episodes. it’s understandable due the episode and budget limitations. In the cartoon, during the inventor episode Katara didn’t have a lot to do, and during the freedom fighters episode Sokka didn’t have a lot to do. So they ended up combining both stories into one hour long episode in the live action, so that both Katara and Sokka would be involved in something. Is it the best? No. But it makes sense. I get it.

Katara starts off bland in the first episode and it takes a bit for her to grow into the character.

The past avatars can be a bit strong with the doom and gloom, and I wish they’d toned that back.

Koh and Heibei (I dunno how to spell the panda spirit’s name) got combined to the same episode, and Koh stole Heibei’s spotlight. Again, I understand why these got combined, but I think it could have been handled a little better and Heibei should have gotten more closure.

There should have been a ninth episode, placed between the two episode Koh storyline, and the Northern Water Tribe storyline. Why? Because the Koh storyline was really heavy and intense. And it leads right into the season finale. An extra ninth episode should have been added with a more lighthearted tone. Something to ease the tension between the two very intense storylines.

Aang should have been using a glider to flit about the temples in the first episode. But it’s not something that ruins the whole show. It was a dumb that only happens in a single episode in the season.

I really missed Momo and Appa’s presence. They appeared atleast once in every episode, but it was still sad they weren’t more of a presence. Again I understand why. They were so beautifully animated that everytime they were on screen it (without a doubt) cost the production thousands of dollars. They were generous including as many of the unique animals and creatures as they had.

I still don’t think Sokka had enough time to develop a relationship with Yue at the northern water tribe. It was rushed and contrived in the animated version, and it was rushed and contrived in this Netflix version. There also wasn’t any of the chemistry like Sokka had with Suki to make the whirlwind romance work. I never liked the romance from the original, and I wasn’t a fan of it here. But that’s ok, because it’s such a small and insignificant thing.

In conclusion most of the changes I can see made were due to budget, and episode limitations. The creators were clearly trying to bring theater-cinematic quality to what was essentially an eight hour long film. And you cannot deny that this show is stunning. Absolutely breathtaking. Most of the episodes cut were filler, and while hilarious and mostly loved by fans, were stories not as necessary in the grand scope. You could feel the love and appreciation the creators included in this series. It wasn’t soulless, it wasn’t a heartless cash grab, it wasn’t a shot for shot (thank god) but it also didn’t butcher the source material.

I understand that the animated show creators had creative differences with the live action Netflix adaptation creators. But that doesn’t mean that the Netflix series completely failed. As every fanfic writer out there knows, the original authors are not going to love what you create based on their works. Tolkien hated every adaptation of his works, HATED them. But no one is going about saying that the Lord of the Rings trilogy movies were hot garbage. A creator doesn’t have to endorse a project for it to be good.

Netflix ATLA is good, it’s not perfect. And it never was going to be perfect. The cartoon it was based on wasn’t perfect either. But the ATLA cartoon was definitely some huge shoes to fill that set a bar very high. Any adaptation was going to struggle to be just as good.

I think the Netflix adaptation was a treat and a pleasure to watch. I think people should go into it with an open mind and see that it’s not trying to replace the cartoon. It’s a love letter to the cartoon.

PS: According to behind the scenes commentary on the Nickelodeon ATLA cartoon, the reason we didn’t get a season 4 was because the creators wanted a live action film. Nickelodeon offered the original cartoon creators the option to make season 4 or to spend the budget meant for season four on a live action ATLA film. The original creators chose the live action film directed by M. Night Shamalan. They wanted a live action for their show over a 4th season. They had no idea M. night would butcher their baby with his pathetic film all those years ago.

This show was a second chance after the M. night abomination. And you know what? It’s a pretty decent adaptation. And guess what? With a resurgence of interest in the series, we are getting more animated content for the original animated series. There’s definitely something for everyone on the horizon if this succeeds.

[ode2rin]

“it is because of your negligence that we're stuck here with each other,” you spat at him, the words laced with a bitter edge, and rin couldn't ignore the way you emphasized each word as if it were a weapon.

and from the way his chest was contracting against his ribcage, maybe they were indeed sharp knives out to get him. 

rin felt the weight of your accusation pressed against his chest, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings the two of you once exchanged beneath the sheets of love, where “i love you's” had been met with smiles, and the world had seemed so full of promise.

but now, things had taken a dark turn, and neither of you could pinpoint when or how it had all gone wrong. you wouldn't tell him– wouldn't let him turn things around.

rin's anger flared, his words escaping through clenched teeth. "my negligence? you're really pinning this on me, again?"

your eyes locked onto his, a warning in their depths. "don't go there."

he pushed on, relentless, “go where? you know i'm right. you always pin things against me.”

you didn’t respond , but you looked at rin in a way that made him want to fall on his knees and beg you — beg you to just tell him what more he can do for you to stop looking at him like this.

only if it was that easy, no — because it was a look of indifference, a look in your eyes that’s telling him none of his words were right anymore, and everything he says had not been good enough to attempt to fix things.

“let's just tell them we're done and leave this shitty reunion,” rin suggested with a note of finality.

“i should have known you'd suggest something as selfish as you,” you countered, shaking your head in disbelief. “this isn't about us. so don't you dare ruin this too, itoshi rin.”

the word ‘too’ hung in the air, a relentless echo that reverberated through the room, each syllable like a blade, cutting into rin's heart. it felt like a never-ending loop, a supercut of all he had lost and ruined - nights filled with piercing arguments, when your voices were raised until your throats ached, and the bed you had once shared had become a cold, lonely expanse. just how much of you had he shattered beyond the point of no return?

the ensuing silence was thick and suffocating, it enveloped the room, creating an atmosphere so tense you could almost hear the creaking of the floorboards under its weight. 

two old friends, once lovers, now trapped in a forced reunion getaway, compelled to act like a couple when their love had long since turned to ashes.

perhaps it was pride that you couldn’t admit it was partly your fault too. you should’ve told your friends about it the moment he took his things out of your shared apartment. there had been numerous chances, yet you clung to false hope, bargaining for a lost cause, and desperately wishing for a change that was never meant to be.

foolish. that's what it felt like - a foolish hope. you knew it was over the moment he couldn't bring himself to respond to your declaration that you were done.

“uhm, guys?”

as if on cue, isagi's head appeared at the slightly ajar door of your designated room,

“is everything fine? the tour guide is already downstairs, so…” he trailed off, his gaze shifting between you and rin, sensing the tension.

“we're—” rin began to say, but you immediately cut him off.

“everything's fine! just one of rin's moods,” you chimed in, forcing a smile as you turned towards isagi. “right, baby?” you said, addressing rin with a strained cheerfulness.

isagi chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the emotional maelstrom in the room. “must be it, then. i don't know how you dealt with that for five years, y/n.”

and there, amidst the oblivious laughter, it struck you. 

five years.

“yeah,” you admitted with a tinge of sadness, “five years of loving him would make you immune to it,” you thought, the words choking in your throat.

isagi, still in the dark, laughed lightly. “i guess so. we'll wait for you downstairs.” and with that, he left you alone with the relentless weight of your unresolved feelings.

for a moment, you and rin remained silent, but when you met his gaze, it was as though he wanted to ask a hundred different questions to comprehend what you meant about being immune to it.

but you beat him to the punch. “we'll tell them on our last day, and then pray to god that we never have to talk to each other again.” with that, you left rin to grapple with his thoughts, leaving the room heavy with the unspoken truth.

and right then and there, it struck him that the answer to when and how things had unraveled for both of you had been staring rin in the face all along. it was just that he wasn't ready to see it.

note. and i offer you: an excerpt from an idea i scraped :D

[lemonlimestar]

i absolutely adore your designs! id love to hear about your process for making characters who look similar in canon have unique and identifiable features!!

tysm :,) i’ve always been really into character design so it’s fun to translate that into characters i love.

as for making similar looking characters look different i drew up a little lineup.

this is gonna be a long one sjhdjsjs

cassie, steph, and mia are all beloved white, blonde, *skinny, teenage girls with roughly the same appearance so i decided to focus in on them.

(*they’re usually portrayed as being muscular/fit but nowhere near in same fashion as their male counterparts)

i wish there was a fancier way to put it, but honestly i just play around with shape language until i get a design i like. i try to lean into motifs/commonalities. (ex: the robins have larger noses to be sort of bird-like, cissie has a heart face to tie into the connection between archery & cupid, the house of el s-curl, cassie’s pigtails are shaped like stars) overall, doing lineups like these are really helpful when trying to make characters look different because it shows you a side-by-side of all the similarities & differences in how i draw the characters.

especially when they interact a lot (ex: wally & roy, kon & tim, cissie & greta) i don’t want them looking like siblings or to repeat the same features between characters who already look similar. unless i’m playing into that (dick & donna <3)

when changing race or body types, i try to factor in the actual character & their backstory. i tend to draw cassie stockier because of her more brawler-like fighting style + her being one of shorter yj kids. but also, i made greta chubby both because i thought it worked well with her shape language and i simply wanted to. the world is my oyster.

as for race, i’m a lot more careful about thinking about how being non-white would affect a character. i have to know a decent amount about a character before hitting them with The Self-Indulgence Beam. making a character black, brown, or asian shouldn’t be slapped on like a sticker without any care put into it. i feel like it’s a well-known point, but it’s worth mentioning especially because i’m black & i make so many characters non-white when i draw them.

back to canon portrayals, they’re some unique features given to them (ex: steph’s freckles aren’t always drawn but they do get featured a few times) so i try to make things like that a permanent physical feature. the curls were simply inspired by some other stephs i’ve seen :) i typically hc that she straightens & crimps them when she’s a teenager but i drew her with them for this example. i got very self-indulgent with my steph design because she’s my girl, but i also tried to keep in mind how she complements the people she interacts with the most (cass, tim, babs).

although i’ve enjoyed what i’ve read with her, i know the least about mia. so, i just gave her features i’d like to see more on teenage characters like acne. i pulled from some panels for the shape of her nose and adjusted the shade of her hair about a million times. i debated on giving her piercings, but ended up going against it because she doesn’t have invulnerability nor a full face mask & she doesn’t have piercings in any of the panels i saw of her.

although i’m not the hugest fan of the reveal of cassie secretly being a demigod rather than just having been given her powers, her being not entirely human gives me a little bit more leeway with her design in my head. hence the stark blonde in her lashes being inspired by fantasy design i enjoy.

one more thing i almost forgot was scars. obviously heroes with no powers would have more visible scars. just with the bats: they all have body scarring but i draw cass with more facial scars because of her history + she’s herself so she wouldn’t bother covering them v.s. tim, who doesn’t have visible facial scars bc he’s Very Particular about appearances, but he has a crooked nose.

scars can be fun to play with as far as trying to remember what happens to certain characters that would leave them scarred (cissie’s scar where the arrow went through her, any scars kon got from literally dying, wally’s or barry’s scarring from their “accidents”) they’re an interesting trait to add & reflects the whole vigilantism thing.

okay i think that’s all the thoughts i have. ik this got kinda rambley but i hope it was helpful 😭

here are some closeups, as a treat <3

[fridgrave2-0]

(something for partners in crime au where felix and turbo both go gamejumping)

once felix overheard a conversation ralph had with gene. ralph was (once again) trying to get positive attention from nicelanders and said that him breaking the building means nothing bc felix has a magic hammer and puts zero effort into the house, for him fixing it is super easy. and this thought stayed in his head. felix started thinking a lot about what he's doing in his life and that without his hammer he is a nobody. on his own he can't fix shit, and when he tried to build something it was worse than what ralph made in the movie for q*bert. it got to the point when felix went to tapper's and got drunk for the first time, and turbo had to get him out of this. turbo was genuinely worried for felix because they knew each other for several years at this point and never it was so bad. mostly it was turbo who had some bad times and felix was comforting him, but now they switched roles in this situation, and turbo tried his best to help. he reassured felix that he'll help him learn at least the basics of building stuff on their own without the hammer, and this was able to cheer felix up. they were taking bricks and other junk to try and make something new out of it - and some time after they actually were able to make some progress, and turbo decided to live in one of the houses (they were experimenting in turbotime most of the time) and while they were working on it, turbo was slowly helping felix accept the fact what his worth doesn't start or ends on having this hammer, and tho it definitely does its job it's not disregarding felix's personality or skills. like yeah, he's the greatest racer in the arcade, but he still continues training and working on his skills, and it's totally ok what felix needed time to get there as well

in the end it helped felix a lot, and after weeks and months of practice he was ready to try something new. building things on his own actually made felix realize that he loves working on design and styles. every building he was making was unique and special because he was putting his soul into it, and this creative process made felix feel something he only knew when he was with turbo. like he actually was alive and not just a piece of code made by someone. the things he was making were his, they were reflecting his personality, his feelings. and they were making him happy when he was ready to try and change niceland, it was the project he put the most of him into. with turbo's (unexpected) drawing skills they designed a completely new building, detailed and magnificent. felix was remaking the niceland for the whole night going beyond the limits of his coding, the hammer was used only to solidify the changes. the house turned out to be just what he wanted, and it was beautiful. for a brief moment even turbo was out of words, he couldn't turn away from the piece of art felix created. there was nothing like it in the arcade, and perhaps even in the whole world. for some unknown reason turbo felt inspired that day, doing his best to break his own limits on the track later that day. he wished he could just return to fix-it felix jr and see the happiness and pride flourish in his boyfriend's eyes. felix did deserve it like no one else

but when turbo came back this evening, niceland looked like it always did. a dull brick penthouse. he found felix at the dump, he looking at pieces of broken marble and colored stone with an empty face. "the game is programmed so that when the building is repaired, it returns to its original appearance. when the day just started, there were untouched bits, something what ralph didn't break. but in the end, everything was wrecked." felix hugged his knees and sobbed when turbo sat down next to him. "it all was for nothing. i can't exceed the code. no matter what i do, it will be destroyed! all i can is to fix this stupid house over and over and over again until they decide to unplug my game. we don't have any control over our lives. this is what's left for us." felix grabbed a piece of marble and threw it far into the pile of red bricks, his hands were shaking when turbo caught them in his. felix couldn't see the anger in his eyes growing. when turbo pulled felix closer, he glanced over the glass of the cabinet and looked at the arcade. "don't worry, love..." he gently stroked felix's hair, "i will figure it out. i promise." it was january of 1987

[alanaartdream]

1st off I have to say I LoVe ❤️ @cubbihue itty bitties fairly odd parents Au as well as @jessadamsdraws the Deal fairly odd parents AU

That i wanted to add my fairly odd parents Fairy Oc to their au’s

But to do that I’m gonna have to explain about who my Fairy oc Felicity

Well she was a human child when British were sending Convicts to Australia between 1788-1868

She was a child excuse at stealing food and was given a choice of going to overcrowded prison or being sent to Australia 🇦🇺 at the time (she chose Australia)

She then got Jorgen’s Nana Boom boom as her godmother who was only one who seemed to care for her and support her creative talents so when she wished she was a real fairy and could live with Nana Boom boom and she was raised by nana boom boom to become the Fairy of the creative arts and records keeping (she gets to work with Father Time to make sure the records are up to snuff and no fake information is in them) but most fairies know her for helping to inspire humans & fairies alike in art and tend to forget she holds records for all their histories until fairy Timmy or Lawyer Timmy realises they need to look back on records of evens to help with keeping the Da Rules from having too many loopholes or where it could maybe need to change some rules to better help fairy world as a hold ( or to help beat the pixies & anti fairies from taking over fairy world)

She will be a little star struck when she 1st meets Timmy Cosmo Wanda and Peri because she has all the records of when they saved the universe and fairy world (also she hates Timmy’s parents; cocker and Vicky being as she has all the records of how they treated Timmy Wanda Cosmo and even peri and will be herd complaining how humans could ignore all that abuse they put a CHILD through is beyond her) she’ll also be Hazel’s fan because she saved Fairy World from anti fairies (she most likely ask for them to sign her autograph book) Jorgen will be confused on finding out he’s a little related to her through Nana Boom boom adoption of her back in 1788

She loves all animals but cats (big and small so going from your house cat to wild lions)

Watching history documentaries or cat ones

Art and craft shows

And anything that’s art related

She’s always got a paint brush and a pencil stuck in her very very curly hair with cat & flower shaped hair clips and her wand looks like a big pencil with a star ⭐️ on top of it

(Oh and she’s asexual)

If she’s In the Itty Bitties AU

I think she’s a pixie fairy but the only girl one being as in the original show all the pixies were all male or appear to be (didn’t see a single female one in that bunch at all) but being as so many see her as the Artist fairy not many realise she’s a pixie fairy at all so don’t bother to tell her she’s supposed to wear the grey uniforms but then when they realise she is one and has been keeping records for EVERYTHING in fairy world they do Attempt to get her to wear grey uniforms but realise the uniforms were not designed for a female pixie being as it would seem a vast majority of them are male so then give up trying to get her to wear the grey uniforms so then fairy Timmy by that gets to keep his pink outfit being as A) he’s a great worker on keeping the da rule up to date and B) being as he’s related to both Jorgen and like felicity was once human they just have to let it slide being as he was the only one who figure out Felicity was the only fairy who was keeping track of all of fairies records

In the Deal au Timmy has grown up to be a pretty good lawyer and when he has to save fairy world pixies trying to take over with anti fairies because Felicity’s anti fairy likes to keep track of what people did wrong so she can backstab people with that information or find loopholes to get anti fairies to get their way; So of course Timmy will ask for all of fairy world’s records so he can defend fairies against them at first most fairies don’t know who’s been keeping the records for them so hazel steps in and wishes for fairy who keeps track of all of fairy world’s records and Felicity appears has a bit of a excited to see lawyer Timmy rambling until her anti fairy starts pointing out all the bad things Timmy did and then of course She starts telling her anti fairy off and listings down all the good Timmy Turner did with Wanda Cosmo and peri while all the other fairies are gasping in surprise over finding out she’s not just the Arts fairy

And that’s just what I’ve gotten down so far and I really need to go to bed I’m work later