#shed footings design

[allstyleshedsau]

[emkini]

Thinking about c!beeduo

Horn Headcanons:

My c!Tubbo is a ram and his horns grow in an arc: first up and back, then around and out. They're functional for fighting by the time he's around 16, and you would be hard pressed to deal any sort of head trauma to this guy. The horns grow continually without shedding, though growth slows down significantly once Tubbo reaches maturity. The tissue inside the keratin sheath is live and will bleed if insulted.

c!Ranboo has enderman horns, which are designed to deal piercing damage and aren't particularly functional in combat. In enderman society horn size denotes prestige in both age and magic power, and some elder endermen can have truly massive horns. Ranboo, being only half enderman and not having the same range of powers, will never see this level of growth. Just like Tubbo, the tissue inside his horns is live.

Misc Headcanons:

Tubbo's ears were floppy until he was around 14

Ranboo can unhinge his jaw, but usually only does so when he feels severely threatened

Tubbo is naturally very fluffy. Lots of fur. A pain to clean but delightful for spouse snuggles

Both Tubbo and Ranboo need regular hoof trims, and they do it for each other because it's easier + bonding time

Tubbo is extremely sure-footed and can walk unimpeded on almost any terrain

Ranboo looks a little like a chihuahua with teary eyes due to the water burns and it gives him a terribly pathetic vibe

The firework explosion took out Tubbo's right eye and disfigured the right side of his face. The scars cause pulling unless they are regularly medicated, and are sensitive to sunlight (this is part of the reason he wears his bangs so long). The less severe wounds fade over time.

Ranboo's development is as follows: Sickly Victorian Child -> Normal Young Man With No Issues At All No Sir -> Milf. I will not rescind my statement

Tubbo has an incredible sense of smell

Ranboo is prone to illness from stress, and this sometimes manifests as hoof infections in the corium and digital cushion

[inkskinned]

for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Them as human-dog hybrids!

Author's notes: A bit more of a niche HC~

Sylus as human-dog:

General Personality:

Aggressive and territorial both in human form and in animal form.

Usually prefers to be directly beside you at all times, sometimes positioning himself in between your legs if you're doing something that requires you to be idle.

Almost always in guard dog mode.

Comfortably switches from human form to animal form any time, anywhere.

In animal form, there's always a leash attached to his collar, in human form, he removes the leash but keeps the collar on. He likes it.

Wards of any other dogs that come in your way with a simple stare and a snarl. Other dogs shiver at the sight of him—even the more bigger ones.

if you get mad at him or scold him for being naughty, he'll ignore you which you will always let him get away with— but if he goes too far, he sleeps on the balcony.

You like grabbing his tail and muse yourself at seeing his super quick and funny reactions.

Dislikes

Dislikes play time with other dogs. When he's at the park, he sits under a tree and inspects the place as if he's a watchdog. If other animals pester him, he will bully them.

Dislikes being touched by other people even stepping a tad bit close will turn him aggressive.

Absolutely hates the vet; he's a menace to everyone except you; No vet would accept him; he likes only two specific doctors in Linkon city and both of them were old veteran women.

Likes

Likes bath time but likes giving you a hard time as well, when he's wet and lathered with soap, you will be too.

like's agressive play and you coddling him with belly rubs, back ear scratches. In the midst of play time he'll suddenly turn human and want your affection in another way.

Habits

At midnight, he leaves his very expensive and comfortable dog bed and sneaks into yours, come morning, you're face to face with his bare chest.

He doesn't let you off easily in the morning and even if he did, you still have to deal with his groggy ness.

He makes a mess when he sees that you cleaned your side of the bed when you wake up earlier than him and he just likes watching you clean it for the second time, ignoring your yapping and scolding.

A Major incident:

You once got mauled by another guard dog, unfortunately he wasn't there to protect you because you left him at home—stating it will just be a quick errand. when too long of a time has passed and you entered the house, the putrid scent of another dog had him barking loud. He sees you covered in scratches and bandages with blotches of red. He looses it and you can't calm him down no matter what kind of coaxing you do.

He turns human and catches you in your exhausted state, seeing the needle marks on your arm (from the vaccination), he was a bit relieved to see you got yourself patched up; He was still angry though. He helped you with the things you need to do and he puts you to bed, resting on the foot of your bed until he could hear you snooze.

At night, he hunts for that awful scent, searching high and low. The scent lead him to an abandoned shed in the forest where a stray and formerly detained human-dog hybrid resided. Needless to say there were trails of blood leading to the toilet and he was there trying to get the blood off by the time you wake up.

Zayne as human-dog:

General Personality:

A Medical service dog who is also the former chief cardio surgeon.

Often alert and active on duty when you are in your work mode.

A very intelligent dog, even if you aren't in any trouble, he'll bring your stuff like a pillow, a bottle of water, a bag of chips and so on.

He's very particular to the scent you give; although he can't describe it, he can smell your emotions and your physical condition.

He rarely barks at anything random and has a designated spot for doing his business. he is a low maintenance, well trained and polite dog.

Dislikes:

He dislikes any special cooked meals for him that has carrots in its ingredients. You can sneak in some when he eats in human form but when he's in his dog form, he can smell it no matter how well it's blended in the meat.

Also hates fast food, but likes the sugary sweet confections.

Likes:

In human form he likes reading, and rather than go to the dog park or the pet supply store, you bring him to a cafe or a bookstore.

From time to time, he likes being in human form for longer periods. and while he does, he likes to service you, helping you clean around the house, and perform check ups. If not doing anything, he's reading a book or watching a classic film.

He likes to keeps his bed in the same spot and only has specific areas in the house where he stays. Preferably in elevated areas like on the table or on the couch.

He likes to visit the park, but never really plays around. Small puppies are attracted to him but he only paws their heads before tending to his own business.

He takes it upon himself to go to the doggy parlor and the vet; sometimes he doesn't need you to accompany him. He takes pride in being well groomed; he takes it a step further by also taking good care of his human form. the downside is: it gets really really expensive.

A Major incident/s:

Rarely do you ever get mad at him except for times when you order fast food on your nights off. Before managing to take a bite of that double cheeseburger, he snatches it from you and lunges it around. Stepping on it. He hates fast food and he knows its not good for you.

As punishment you didn't let him join you for work for the next three days and he's left all alone in the house waiting for you to get home. He eagerly waits for you at the door and all you do is pet him before falling asleep on the couch.

Despite knowing you were mad at him and he was under punishment, he still drapes a blanket over you making sure you weren't cold. He sleeps at the foot of your couch and when he comes to, you were sleeping on the floor with him, cuddling and sharing the same blanket he draped over you during the night.

Xavier as human-dog:

General Personality:

An immortal police dog working with the Hunter's association.

Has a keen sense of smell and hearing as well as agility and speed.

In office down-times he naps— a lot, yet he never fails to perfect physical test. Somehow always in great shape both in dog form and human form.

When he has nothing to do, or there's too many dogs in the vicinity, escapes and sleeps in the flowerbed of the rooftop garden or ontop of a slate rock. In human form, he sleeps in a hammock behind the storage room which was conveniently placed by a former staff. (or so he says)

He will play dead on the floor if he's too lazy to walk so you have to carry him in his.

In your home, he's mostly in his human form. He still likes snacks but mostly likes to stick to you wherever you are. In the sofa? Sitting and resting on your lap. in the bedroom? At the foot of your bed. Toilet? He's outside the door. There's no alone time with him. Dislikes

He hates baths but likes being groomed. He's a very patient boy in the doggy parlor especially if they offer treats. Doesn't bite but will push himself into a corner or face the wall as if he's being punished.

People pet him a lot and he avoids it like a cat, sometimes play biting to tell people to go away. If people still manage to pet him, He'll make loud, whining noises and hide under your table.

Likes

He like's winning plushies in the arcade yet coats them in saliva so you can't exactly have that plushie to yourself. 3 days in and that plushie would turn into shreds because of his aggressive playing habits.

He loves treats, be it dog treats or pastries. Can hear a crinkle of treats inside your bag from 5 feet away. He'll be raising his paw at you once he manages to get your attention.

A Major incident:

You once got mad at him for slobbering and chewing up all over the paperwork on your table because you weren't able to pay attention to him during the busy office hours.

As punishment, you had to work overtime to accomplish and remake those files; all while ignoring him. Afterwards, when he thought you were done, you asked Nero to exchange patrol dogs for the time being.

Xavier was devastated and suddenly turned human, apologizing and saying that it wont happen again.

You ignored him and went home— him trailing after you just a few meters away. He doesn't enter your house when you get there and just guards your front door. When morning comes, he realizes that there was a blanket on him an a brand new plushie. Your door was purposely left ajar for him to enter.

Rafayel as human-dog:

General Personality:

A high maintenance fashion dog.

He's a runway pet, often working alongside clothing companies.

Though he is a human-dog hybrid, he's frequently in his human form to sign contracts and make negotiations.

He models both as a dog and as a human. He's very picky though, he only chooses the best of the best companies, ones that you would wear.

He has his own penthouse near the beach but people complain about him because he barks a lot, seemingly out of boredom. As a solution, he moves in with you!

He chooses your outfit for you, and digs out of your wardrobe every now and then, especially when he needs you to accompany him to a show or a party. Dislikes

He is more dramatic than you anticipated. If he dislikes the film or show he's watching and you were ignoring him, he would bark annoyingly, or whine a lot most likely rolling around and jumping on the bed to relieve his boredom.

He has problems with cats and can sense if one steps in within the perimeter of his residence.

In his dog form, he dislikes being in places or rooms with extreme temperature. be it super cold or too hot. Although he likes the summer, sometimes the heat is unbearable so he needs to cool off as soon as he goes out. Likes

He likes to make sure you look the best because you are a reflection of him; But he knows he looks better than you.

He keeps a few toys around and particularly likes the plushies, but above all he likes the to play around with the scrunchies you wear.

From time to time, he likes play dates with other dogs— his breed in particular is very quick to get along with other dogs regardless of species. He's quite fond of frolicking in the indoor dog parks of Linkon city.

Habits

He has his own bedroom in your apartment but you always wake up with him next to you either in his dog form or in his naked human form.

He needs full maintenance every few days, these involve brushing, nail grooming, ear cleaning and so on; It gets very expensive but he always pays for it. In human form he likes to pamper you as well by giving you massages, treating you to spas and salons.

He is a nightmare to deal with as a dog mainly because he sheds so fast; even if you cleaned the kitchen before cooking there will always be fur in your cutlery.

A Major incident:

You were always scolding him for his childishness but once in a while, it gets endearing except for that one specific day where he decides to chew on all your heels and shoes because you were going to meet up with the manager of that Chihuahua model.

Needless to say, yours shoes, including slippers, which you had to pay money for, were all ruined. Barefoot and all, you drove him over to his penthouse and left him there for a solid few days. No one complained of any noise because his neighbors were out of town.

He was angry at you for leaving him alone so he wanted to give you a piece of his mind, but when he arrive at your apartment, the first thing he sees were those chewed up shoes.

Feeling apologetic at the sight of your broken shoes in the trash bin, he gathered his connections and used some IOUs to be given some of the best and beautiful shoes in the industry. Needless to say you were quite surprised when there are a bunch of pr boxes blocking your door. That and Rafayel patiently waiting at the foyer of your apartment.

Author footnotes: Some of the text won't adhere to the format— Sorry about that! I'm still getting used to tumblr. Also, I wanna make a part two out of this. hehe~ Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[regressionschool]

little women: amazing adventures

The playground is alive with the sounds of giggles and the joyful shrieks of Littles, their colorful clothes and padded bottoms dotting the landscape like a field of bouncing bubbles. It’s attached to the new Littles daycare, a space designed for their needs—soft, colorful, and filled with all the fun a Little could want. The sight brings a smile to your face as you sit on a nearby bench, watching over Valerie and Anna as they scamper around, climbing, sliding, and chasing each other across the play structures.

Valerie, dressed in her adorable green overalls and a bright yellow T-shirt with a little cartoon pig on it, is perched at the top of a play structure, her legs swinging freely as she pops her pacifier in and out of her mouth. Her diaper, visible beneath the loose fabric of her overalls, crinkles with each movement, the playful prints peeking out every time she shifts. You can't help but notice how carefree she looks, fully immersed in her Little space, unburdened by the concerns of the adult world.

Beside her, Anna is equally playful, though her plain white diaper looks a bit more clinical compared to Valerie’s vibrant one. It stands out against her pink dress, which rides up as she climbs and tumbles through the playground. Her pacifier bounces slightly from the strap clipped to her shirt. As you watch them giggle and slide down together, you notice more Littles scattered around, their pacifiers bobbing in their mouths as they toddle and waddle, their diapers clearly visible beneath shorts, dresses, and rompers. A few of them have even shed their pants entirely, too caught up in their games to bother with modesty.

A few moments later, you see Valerie and Anna hand in hand, toddling toward you. Valerie’s face is determined, while Anna looks shy, her steps smaller, her face hidden behind her paci.  “Hey there, girls,” you greet them, smiling down at their adorably mismatched pair. Valerie looks up at you and tugs Anna closer, her voice soft but teasing. “Anna’s messy,” she whispers, though loud enough for you to hear. Anna’s cheeks flush a deeper pink behind her pacifier, but she stays quiet, clearly embarrassed.

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at the daycare, wondering why they came to you instead of Anna’s caregiver. But then it hits you—Anna’s eyes keep flicking to Valerie’s colorful diaper, her plain white one now crinkling as she shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. You chuckle softly. “I think I see what’s going on here,” you say with a grin, bending down to their level. “Anna, do you want one of Valerie’s fun diapers?” Anna nods, her cheeks still rosy, but there’s a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. Valerie giggles, clearly pleased with her role in helping her friend get a fresh, cute change.

“Well, alright then,” you say with a playful sigh, pulling out two fresh diapers from the bag, one with bright animals for Valerie and another with cute stars for Anna. “Let’s get you both cleaned up.”

A few minutes later, the girls are both in fresh, colorful diapers, their old ones discarded into the trash nearby. Their pants, however, are now sitting in your lap—both of them had decided, without a word, that they were much more comfortable without them. Valerie gives you a cheeky grin, her pacifier bobbing slightly as she adjusts the waistband of her diaper, clearly proud of her choice.

“Feel better, Anna?” you ask, giving the shy girl a warm smile as she peeks down at her new diaper, the bright prints now decorating her waist. Anna nods enthusiastically, finally letting out a giggle. “Much better,” she murmurs behind her paci. “Good,” you say, patting both of their heads. “Now go on, go play.” The two of them run off, giggling and waddling back to the playground, their bare legs and colorful diapers on full display as they rejoin the fun, leaving you with their little discarded pants and a heart full of warmth. Watching them scamper around, you can’t help but smile at how perfect the moment feels—just Littles being Littles, without a care in the world.

[reasonsforhope]

Paywall-free version

On the outskirts of Austin, Texas, what began as a fringe experiment has quickly become central to the city’s efforts to reduce homelessness. To Justin Tyler Jr., it is home.

Mr. Tyler, 41, lives in Community First! Village, which aims to be a model of permanent affordable housing for people who are chronically homeless. In the fall of 2022, he joined nearly 400 residents of the village, moving into one of its typical digs: a 200-square-foot, one-room tiny house furnished with a kitchenette, a bed and a recliner.

The village is a self-contained, 51-acre community in a sparsely populated area just outside Austin. Stepping onto its grounds feels like entering another realm.

Eclectic tiny homes are clustered around shared outdoor kitchens, and neat rows of recreational vehicles and manufactured homes line looping cul-de-sacs.

There are chicken coops, two vegetable gardens, a convenience store, art and jewelry studios, a medical clinic and a chapel.

Roads run throughout, but residents mainly get around on foot or on an eight-passenger golf cart that makes regular stops around the property.

Mr. Tyler chose a home with a cobalt-blue door and a small patio in the oldest part of the village, where residents’ cactus and rock gardens created a “funky, hippie vibe” that appealed to him. He arrived in rough shape, struggling with alcoholism, his feet inflamed by gout, with severe back pain from nearly 10 years of sleeping in public parks, in vehicles and on street benches.

At first, he kept to himself. He locked his door and slept. He visited the clinic and started taking medication. After a month or so, he ventured out to meet his neighbors.

“For a while there, I just didn’t want to be seen and known,” he said. “Now I prefer it.”

Between communal meals and movie screenings, Mr. Tyler also works at the village, preparing homes for the dozen or more people who move there each month.

In the next few years, Community First is poised to grow to nearly 2,000 homes across three locations, which would make it by far the nation’s largest project of this kind, big enough to permanently house about half of Austin’s chronically homeless population.

Tiny-home villages for people who have been homeless have existed on a small scale for several decades, but have recently become a popular approach to addressing surging homelessness. Since 2019, the number of these villages across the country has nearly quadrupled, to 124 from 34, with dozens more coming, according to a census by Yetimoni Kpeebi, a researcher at Missouri State University.

Mandy Chapman Semple, a consultant who has helped cities like Houston transform their homelessness systems, said the growth of these villages reflects a need to replace inexpensive housing that was once widely available in the form of mobile home parks and single room occupancy units, and is rapidly being lost. But she said they are a highly imperfect solution.

“I think where we’re challenged is that ‘tiny home’ has taken on a spectrum of definitions,” said Chapman Semple. Many of those definitions fall short of housing standards, often lacking basic amenities like heat and indoor plumbing, which she said limits their ability to meet the needs of the population they intend to serve.

But Community First is pushing the tiny home model to a much larger scale. While most of its homes lack bathrooms and kitchens, its leaders see that as a necessary trade-off to be able to creatively and affordably house the growing number of people living on Austin’s streets. And unlike most other villages, many of which provide temporary emergency shelter in structures that can resemble tool sheds, Community First has been thoughtfully designed with homey spaces where people with some of the highest needs can stay for good. No other tiny home village has attempted to permanently house as many people.

Austin’s homelessness rate has been rapidly worsening, and the city’s response has whipped back and forth... In October [2023], the official estimate put the number of people living without shelter at 5,530, a 125 percent increase from two years earlier. Some of that rise is the result of better outreach, but officials acknowledged that more people have become homeless. City leaders vowed to build more housing, but that effort has been slowed by construction delays and resistance from residents.

Meanwhile, outside the city limits, Community First has been building fast. [Note from below the read more: It's outside city limits because the lack of zoning laws keeps more well-off Austin residents from blocking the project, as they did earlier attempts to build inside the city.] In a mere eight years, this once-modest project has grown into a sprawling community that the city is turning to as a desperately needed source of affordable housing. The village has now drawn hundreds of millions of dollars from public and private sources and given rise to similar initiatives across the country.

This rapid growth has come despite significant challenges. And some question whether a community on the outskirts of town with relaxed housing standards is a suitable way to meet the needs of people coming out of chronic homelessness. The next few years will be a test of whether these issues will be addressed or amplified as the village expands to five times its current size.

-via New York Times, January 8, 2024. Article continues below (at length!)

The community versus Community First

For Alan Graham, the expansion of Community First is just the latest stage in a long-evolving project. In the late 1990s, Mr. Graham, then a real estate developer, attended a Catholic men’s retreat that deepened his faith and inspired him to get more involved with his church. Soon after, he began delivering meals as a church volunteer to people living on Austin’s streets.

In 1998, Mr. Graham, now 67, became a founder of Mobile Loaves and Fishes, a nonprofit that has since amassed a fleet of vehicles that make daily rounds to deliver food and clothing to Austin’s homeless...

Talking to people like Mr. Johnston [a homeless Austin resident who Graham had befriended], Mr. Graham came to feel that housing alone was not enough for people who had been chronically homeless, the official term for those who have been homeless for years or repeatedly and have physical or mental disabilities, including substance-use disorders. About a third of the homeless population fits this description, and they are often estranged from family and other networks.

In 2006, Mr. Graham pitched an idea to Austin’s mayor: Create an R.V. park for people coming out of chronic homelessness. It would have about 150 homes, supportive services and easy access to public transportation. Most importantly, it would help to replace the “profound, catastrophic loss of family” he believed was at the root of the problem with a close-knit and supportive community.

The City Council voted unanimously in 2008 to lease Mr. Graham a 17-acre plot of city-owned land to make his vision a reality. Getting the council members on board, he said, turned out to be the easy part.

When residents near the intended site learned of the plan, they were outraged. They feared the development would reduce their property values and invite crime. One meeting to discuss the plan with the neighborhood grew so heated that Mr. Graham was escorted to his car by the police. Not a single one of the 52 community members in attendance voted in favor of the project.

After plans for the city-owned lot fell apart and other proposed locations faced similar resistance, Mr. Graham gave up on trying to build the development within city limits.

In 2012, he instead acquired a plot of land in a part of Travis County just northeast of Austin. It was far from public transportation and other services, but it had one big advantage: The county’s lack of zoning laws limited the power of neighbors to stop it.

Mr. Graham raised $20 million and began to build. In late 2015, Mr. Johnston left the R.V. park he had been living in and became the second person to move into the new village. It grew rapidly. In just two years, Mr. Graham bought an adjacent property, nearly doubling the village’s size to 51 acres and making room for hundreds more residents.

And then in the fall of 2022, he broke ground on the largest expansion yet: Adding two more sites to the village, expanding it by 127 acres to include nearly 2,000 homes.

“No one ever really did what they first did, and no one’s ever done what they’re about to do,” said Mark Hilbelink, the director of Sunrise Navigation Center, Austin’s largest homeless-services provider. “So there’s a little bit of excitement but also probably a little bit of trepidation about, ‘How do we do this right?’”

What it takes to make a village

Since he moved into Community First eight years ago, Mr. Johnston has found the stability that eluded him for so long. Most mornings, he wakes up early in his R.V., feeds his scruffy adopted terrier, Amos, and walks a few minutes down a quiet road to the village garden, where neat rows of carrots, leeks, beets and arugula await his attention.

Mr. Johnston worked in fast-food restaurants for most of his life, but he learned how to garden at the village. He now works full time cultivating produce for a weekly market that is free to residents.

“Once I got here, I said, This is where I’m going to spend pretty much my entire life now,” Mr. Johnston said.

Everyone at the village pays rent, which averages about $385 a month. The tiny homes that make up two-thirds of the dwellings go for slightly lower, but have no indoor plumbing; their residents use communal bathhouses and kitchens. The rest of the units are R.V.s and manufactured homes with their own bathrooms and kitchens.

Like Mr. Johnston, many residents have jobs in the village, created to offer residents flexible opportunities to earn some income. Last year, they earned a combined $1.5 million working as gardeners, landscapers, custodians, artists, jewelry makers and more, paid out by Mobile Loaves and Fishes.

Ute Dittemer, 66, faced a daily struggle for survival during a decade on the streets before moving into Community First five years ago with her husband. Now she supports herself by painting and molding figures out of clay at the village art house, augmented by her husband’s $800 monthly retirement income. A few years ago, a clay chess set she made sold for $10,000 at an auction. She used the money to buy her first car.

“I’m glad that we are not in a low-income-housing apartment complex,” she said. “We’ve got all this green out here, air to breathe.”

A small number of residents have jobs off-site, and a city bus makes hourly stops at the village 13 times a day to help people commute into town.

But about four out of five residents live on government benefits like disability or Social Security. Their incomes average $900 a month, making even tiny homes impossible to afford without help, Mr. Graham said.

“Essentially 100 percent of the people that move into this village will have to be subsidized for the rest of their lives,” he said.

For about $25,000 a year, Mr. Graham’s organization subsidizes one person’s housing at the village. (Services like primary health care and addiction counseling are provided by other organizations.) So far, that has been paid for entirely by private donations and in small part from collecting rent.

This would not be possible, Mr. Graham said, without a highly successful fund-raising operation that taps big Austin philanthropists. To build the next two expansions, Mr. Graham set a $225 million fund-raising goal, about $150 million of which has already been obtained from the Michael and Susan Dell Foundation, the founder of the Patrón Spirits Company, Hill Country Bible Church and others.

Support goes beyond monetary donations. A large land grant came from the philanthropic arm of Tito’s Handmade Vodka, and Alamo Drafthouse, an Austin-based cinema chain, donated an outdoor amphitheater for movie screenings. Top architectural firms competed for the chance to design energy-efficient tiny homes free of charge. And every week, hundreds of volunteers come to help with landscaping and gardening or to serve free meals.

Around 55 residents, including 15 children, live in the village as “missionals” — unpaid neighbors generally motivated by their Christian faith to be part of the community.

All missionals undergo a monthslong “discernment process” before they can move in. They pay to live in R.V.s and manufactured homes distinguished by an “M” in the front window. Their presence in the community is meant to guard against the pitfalls of concentrated poverty and trauma.

“Missionals are our guardian angels,” said Blair Racine, a 69-year-old resident with a white beard that hangs to his chest. “They’re people we can always call. They’re always there for us.”

After moving into the village in 2018, Mr. Racine spent two years isolated in his R.V. because of a painful eye condition. But after an effective treatment, he became so social that he was nicknamed the Mayor. Missional residents drive him to get his medication once a week, he said. To their children he is Uncle Blair.

Though the village is open to people of any religious background, it is run by Christians, and public spaces are adorned with paintings of Jesus on the cross and other biblical scenes. The application to live in the community outlines a set of “core values” that refer to God and the Bible. But Mr. Graham said there is no proselytizing and people do not have to be sober or seek treatment to live there.

Mr. Graham lives in a 399-square-foot manufactured home in the middle of the village with his wife, Tricia Graham, who works as the community’s “head of neighbor care.” He said they do not have any illusions about solving the underlying mental-health and substance-use problems many residents live with, and that is not their goal.

“This is absolutely not nirvana,” Mr. Graham said. “And we want people to understand the beauty and the complexity of what we do. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on the face of the planet than right here in the middle of this, but you’re not fixing these things.” ...

From an experiment to a model

Community First has already inspired spinoffs, with some tweaks. In 2018, Nate Schlueter, who previously worked with the village’s jobs program, opened Eden Village in his hometown, Springfield, Mo. Unlike in Community First, every home in Eden Village is identical and has its own bathroom and kitchen. Mr. Schlueter’s model has spread to 12 different cities with every village limited to 50 homes or fewer.

“Not every city is Austin, Texas,” Mr. Schlueter said. “We don’t want to build a large-scale village. And if the root cause of homelessness is a loss of family, and community is something that can duplicate that safety net to some extent, to have smaller villages to me seemed like a stronger community safety net. Everybody would know each other.”

The rapid growth of Community First has challenged that ideal. In recent years, some of the original missional residents and staff members have left, finding it harder to support the number of people moving into the village. Steven Hebbard, who lived and worked at the village since its inception, left in 2019 when he said it shifted from a “tiny-town dynamic” where he knew everyone’s name to something that felt more like a city, straining the supportive culture that helped people succeed.

Mobile Loaves and Fishes said more staff members had recently been hired to help new residents adjust, but Mr. Graham noted that there was a limit to what any housing provider could do without violating people’s privacy and autonomy.

Despite these concerns, the organization, which had been run entirely on private money, has recently drawn public support. In January 2023, Travis County gave Mobile Loaves and Fishes $35 million in American Rescue Plan Act funds to build 640 units as part of its expansion.

Then four months later came a significant surprise: The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development approved the use of federal housing vouchers, which subsidize part or all of a low-income resident’s rent, for the village’s tiny homes. This will make running the village much more financially sustainable, Mr. Graham said, and may make it a more replicable blueprint for other places.

“That’s a big deal for us, and it’s a big deal on a national basis,” Mr. Graham said. “It’s a recognition that this model, managed the way that this model is, has a role in the system.”

Usually, the government considers homes without indoor plumbing to be substandard, but, in this case, it made an exception by applying the housing standards it uses for single-room-occupancy units. The village still did not meet the required ratio of bathrooms per person, but at the request of Travis County and the City of Austin’s housing officials, who cited Austin’s “severe lack of affordable housing” that made it impossible for some homeless people with vouchers to find anywhere else to live, HUD waived its usual requirements.

In the waiver, a HUD staffer wrote that Mr. Graham told HUD officials over the phone that the proportion of in-unit bathrooms “has not been an issue.” But in conversations with The Times, other homeless-service providers in Austin and some village residents said the lack of in-unit bathrooms is one of the biggest problems people have with living there. It also makes the villages less accessible to people with certain disabilities and health issues that are relatively common among the chronically homeless....

Mr. Graham said that with a doctor’s note, people could secure an R.V. or manufactured home at the village, although those are in short supply and have a long waiting list. He said the village’s use of tiny homes allowed them to build at a fraction of the usual cost when few other options existed, and helps ensure residents aren’t isolated in their units, reinforcing the village’s communal ethos.

“If somebody wants to live in a tiny home they ought to have the choice,” Mr. Graham said, “and if they are poor we ought to respect their civil right to live in that place and be subsidized to live there.” But he conceded that for some people, “this might not be the model.”

“Nobody can be everything for everyone,” he said.

By the spring of 2025, Mr. Graham hopes to begin moving people into the next phase of the village, across the street from the current property. The darker visions some once predicted of an impoverished community on the outskirts of town overtaken by drugs and violence have not come to pass. Instead, the village has permanently housed hundreds of people and earned the approval and financial backing of the city, the county and the federal government. But for the model to truly meet the scale of the challenge in Austin and beyond, Chapman Semple said, the compromises that led to Community First in its current incarnation will have to be reckoned with.

“We can build smaller villages that can be fully integrated into the community, that can have access to amenities within the community that we all need to live, including jobs and groceries,” Chapman Semple said. “If it’s a wonderful model then we should be embracing and fighting for its inclusion within our community.”

-via New York Times, January 8, 2024

[blaithnne]

By popular demand, here are the humanised Ducktales characters I teased several weeks ago — it’s April, May, and June!

May and June do take design and personality inspiration from their canon equivalents, but these three are not the same characters. They have nothing to do with FOWL, and are Daisy’s almost adult nieces! They’ve been under her care since they were very young, and she’s always been more of a mother than an aunt to them. 

April — The eldest triplet, April is athletic, energetic, and a massive tomboy. She cares deeply for her Aunt and sisters, and wants to help them in every way she can! She hopes to become a professional footballer, and use the money to support her family - she likes the idea of being their provider. She and her siblings have just graduated high school, and once the summers over she starts work as a coach at her old school. She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she has a big heart, and next year, she’s off to college on a sports scholarship. 

May — Organised, strict, and always a little bit stressed, May is by far the most suspicious of the new guy her beloved Auntie is dating. She handles most of the family finances and keeps them on track, and sees it as her duty to keep them safe. She doesn’t trust Donald with a five foot pole, believing him an incompetent manchild who’ll just drag Daisy down to take care of him instead of focusing on her dream job. Deep down, May harbours a deep seated guilt for the sacrifices her Aunt made for her and her sisters. In her mind, being sacked with three young girls kept Daisy from accomplishing her real dreams, and now that she’s older, May is determined to give her Aunt everything she rightfully deserves. Seeing Donald and his three young children, May is convinced history will repeat itself, and she’ hate to let that happen – not when Daisy deserves so much more! Unbeknownst to her, Daisy adores her nieces more than anything in the world, and thinks them coming into her life is the best thing that ever happened to her. Sacrifices or not, Daisy wouldn’t trade her girls for the world. If only May would stop worrying and realise that. 

June — Though she might seem scary at a glance, June is actually the biggest sweetheart you’ll ever meet. Soft spoken and shy, June has a strong moral compass and a burning hatred for any and all injustice. She uses punk and emo fashions not only as a shield to make herself look intimidating, but because of the historical ties to rebellion and anti-conservative ideals. She spends most of her time organising and attending human rights rallies, and campaigning to help those in need. She might struggle to speak to the mailman, but she never feels more confident than when she’s marching with her peers in support of the greater good. But the one thing she cares about most of all is her family, and she dedicates a good portion of her efforts to her local community, in hopes of making things easier and more fair for them all. 

[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Crescent Pearl Weapon (scimitar), rare (requires attunement)

The pearlescent blade of this scimitar glimmers like the moon and its lapis lazuli handle resembles a starlit night sky. You have a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. In darkness, the unsheathed blade of this sword sheds dim moonlight in a 10-foot radius. The sword has a number of charges equal to your proficiency bonus and regains all expended charges daily at dawn.

Lunar Flash. As a bonus action while wielding the sword, you can expend one charge to cast the misty step spell from it.

Cosmic Cleave. As a bonus action while wielding the sword, you can expend one charge to suffuse the blade with moonlight. The next target you hit with the sword before the end of your turn takes an extra 2d6 radiant damage. 

When braving a land of monsters and ghouls shrouded by night, one's only respite is often the meager light of the moon. 

Some steadfast souls manage to harness the moon's rays, summoning its true strength and splendor for all to behold, and for foes to fear... - Huge shout out to our Patron & longtime Discord member Goblin Pink for writing up and sketching the initial design for this sword for last year's Swordtember! - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 200 magic items, printable item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️ Thank you so much for your support! 💖

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Celestial Bident
Weapon (trident), legendary (requires attunement by a cleric or paladin) ___ This bident’s prongs are designed as celestial wings. A ball of pure light radiates between the wings, which sheds bright light in a 30-foot radius and dim light for an additional 30 feet. The light is sunlight. While holding the bident, you can use a bonus action to light or extinguish the ball. Alternatively, you can use an action to expand or reduce its radius of bright and dim light by 5 feet each, to a maximum of 40 feet each or a minimum of 10 feet each. If you’re attuned to the “celestial bident,” you are considered proficient with it. You gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon, which deals an extra 1d6 radiant damage to any target it hits while the ball of pure light is present in the bident. Immediately after you make a ranged weapon attack with the bident, it flies back to your open hand. While holding the weapon, you also gain a +2 bonus to spell attack rolls. 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙬 𝙇𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. While the ball of light is present between the bident’s prongs, you can use an action to touch a creature with the bident and confer the light into them. The ball disappears within the creature for 8 hours. For the duration, the creature can’t be blinded, deafened, diseased, frightened, paralyzed, petrified, or poisoned. If the creature is already affected by such a condition, the effects are suppressed for the duration of this effect. The ball of light returns to the bident at the end of the 8 hours or when the creature is reduced to 0 hit points. If the creature is reduced to 0 hit points, the ball lifts from the creature’s body and returns to the bident, and the creature immediately regains 1 hit point. Once a creature has benefitted from this property, it can’t do so again for 24 hours. 𝙂𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘽𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩. While holding the weapon, you can use an action to cast the “guiding bolt” spell from it, using your spell attack bonus. When you do, the bolt appears as a duplicate of the bident made of pure light, and on a hit, any allied creature within 10 feet of the target gains 10 temporary hit points. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[autophage]

I have been taking up weaving.

Making cloth is a very human thing.

A few facts surprise me:

How long it takes to warp the loom,

How many ways there are to fix mistakes,

How quickly knots can generate themselves.

Which facts become important as I weave,

And which, in final cloth, are meaningless.

The loom is on my bed.

A dozen dozen strings flow over foot and head

Soon rolled and taut and fit to pull and spread

As half or third are lifted in a shed.

I have been taking up weaving.

I have become insufferable at the mall:

Do you have anything that is all wool? All cotton?

I see a design, and am fascinated

Until I get close enough to see that it's a print.

I find myself wanting to touch:

The jackets, plackets, shirts and skirts and pants

Umbrella, sailcloth, carpet, rug and hat.

The satin, plain, and twill

Or even knit.

I have been taking up weaving.

By hand.

Each passage of the shuttle back and forth

Each roller ratchet clicking forth the cloth

Each beat and shed, each push and pull and turn

With selvedge straight or pulled-in

I will earn

The title "weaver".

This I hope.

[dee-writes-angst]

SUMMER (Chapter Four)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

[ghostofskywalker]

After The Mission

Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

Fictober 2023 Day 20 of 31

Words: 1,041

Summary: You didn't know how much longer you could deal with your growing attraction to Bucky Barnes, and it certainly doesn't help that the two of you had been assigned a mission that included black tie attire.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

For once, everything seemed to go to plan. The plans were successful, the bad guy was caught, and no one else could do you any harm. There was just one little problem, and that was the rising tension between you and your mission partner.

You knew Bucky Barnes was handsome, most people did at this point. But you had also only seem him in tactical gear and the casual clothes he wore around the compound, so to walk into the living room and see him in a full suit was truly something else. You would like to think that you saw his breath hitch slightly when he first laid eyes on you (and the very expensive designer dress you were wearing), but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself.

This was a rare assignment, mainly because you didn’t actually have to do any fighting. Your entire job was to keep an eye on one specific patron at this fancy restaurant, and alert the rest of the team when he started to move, and that’s what you did. It almost felt like you were actually just out for a nice dinner with Bucky, and you were certainly not complaining.

But now, as you were setting foot back in the compound, something felt different between you. Before tonight you might have suggested that you meet back in the living room and have a pajama and ice cream movie marathon, but right now that seemed completely impossible. Not because you had argued or anything of that nature, but because things just felt different between you and him after this dinner.

Just as you decided that it was probably time to take this dress off and get ready for bed, you heard a knock at your door. You immediately walked over and opened it, thinking it was probably Natasha on the other side, stopping by to let you know how the rest of the team did when they apprehended the target and if there was anything else that needed to be done in the coming days.

You certainly weren’t expecting Bucky to be standing on the other side. “Hey,” he said. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He had also not yet shed his fancy evening attire, and the fact that his tie was currently undone around his neck was only making him more attractive. Seriously, why did he have to be so attractive? Was he trying to kill you?

“Oh,” was your response, not quite sure what to make of the interaction at this point. “Did Steve send something out to the team that I missed?”

“Not in an official sense,” he said, and your expression changed to one of confusion. “You seemed like something was bothering you on the way home, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Thank you for checking on me,” you said. “I don’t think anything was wrong, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” That wasn’t the whole truth and you knew it, but the reality was that you were acting differing because of the ridiculously crazy thoughts running through your head at that moment, all of which involved you and Bucky in much less clothing and several rather compromising positions.

“Are you sure?” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you,” you said, a small smile crossing your face. “That is absolutely not the reason I was acting like that on the way home.”

You had really hoped that he would just let the conversation go after that and allow you to get ready for bed (and pine for him in peace), but of course that was not what happened. “So there is something,” he said, closing the door behind him as he stepped further into your room. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to think of an excuse to get out of this conversation. “Don’t worry.”

“But I am worried,” was his response, and it was accompanied by a look that almost made your heart melt right then and there. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Because it’s about you,” you said, and immediately regretted it.

“What? I thought you just-”

Since you would rather he be disgusted by your attraction to him than angry at himself for doing something wrong (which he absolutely hadn’t done), you decided to just tell him the truth. “Because I like you,” you said softly. “And I know that it’s probably a stupid little crush and I’ll get over it, but I saw you in that suit tonight and I’m pretty sure my brain forgot how thoughts work.” You watched as your words sank in, waiting for the inevitable rejection that would break your heart for a few weeks before you would be able to recover.

But much to your surprise, that rejection never came.

Instead, Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist, and he gently pulled you closer to him. Your lips met immediately, and it didn’t really matter who kissed who, because both of you were pouring so much passion into the kiss that you genuinely wondered if you would faint when you pulled apart.

Thankfully, your legs continued to work (even if they did wobble a little), and unfortunately you did have to break for air. “I really hope that it isn’t a little crush,” he said, his eyes searching yours with an expression of pure happiness. “Because seeing you walk out in that dress made me feel pretty much the same way.”

“Really?” This had to be some kind of dream, it was simply too good to be true.

“Really.” He leaned in and placed another soft kiss on your lips. “And I really don’t want this night to end.”

Your breath hitched. “Me neither,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

His lips began to travel down to your neck, and you had to fight hard not to make any embarrassing noises. You could hear the sound of someone’s phone ringing beyond your lovesick haze, and you knew that he had probably heard it too, but neither of you were going to pay attention to it.

Right now, you were just enjoying this perfect moment. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[hotvintagepoll]

Okay, but now I must know your opinions on Putt-Putt games! (Gotta disagree with you. Putt-Putt Goes to the Moon is clearly the Best of them all)

i haven't played all the games (including Goes to the Moon, sadly), but here are my unfiltered reviews for all the ones I have played!

Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo: a classic. a slowburn. the same every time but that adds to its aura of stability, the old world, a pocket out of time undisturbed. also there are cheese puffs and you can have putt-putt eat them over and over if you don’t care much about saving the elephant

Putt-Putt Travels Through Time: more hectic, meandering, a loop in a loop: the clues ever spiraling outward, the chaos of time unlocked vying with old prospector stereotypes and a deeply inaccurate Middle Ages. a singing hourglass asks putt-putt to resolve reality and he responds “and my homework?” Notable for its wagon wheel fruit snacks (edible if you want to sacrifice the entire old west portion and shoot your gameplay in the foot) and the talking floating lipstick wearing car i had a crush on as a 4 year old.

Putt-Putt Enters the Race: a!!! banger!!!!! yes you get stuck in the vegetable garden too long. yes you wonder why Outback Al, a supposed zoologist, doesn’t know what a baby yak eats. but there’s a cat stuck in a tree and a dog with buried treasure and sometimes the shed is on fire! this is riveting domestic drama and the cherry on top is the number of milkshakes one can order. (a lot.)

Freddi Fish and the Stolen Conch Shell: the most perfect of the freddi games in my opinion for channeling noir coral reef aesthetics into a chiming, dark-hue’d mystery. shady characters galore (also a monkey). an intense climax with true stakes. a squid with a cabaret act. freddi peaks. (the seaweed looks soooo edible.)

Freddi Fish and the Hogfish Rustlers: ok this one kinda beefs it ngl. yes there’s an old timey bar yes you can order a root bear soda. but the vibes? the QUEST? the menace of the deep? lacking. there is one cool part where you can intentionally drown a ship, but otherwise the aesthetic is too brown to really go full High Noon.

Freddi Fish and the Case of the Creature of Coral Cove: the character design in this suuuuucks I couldn’t tell you why I just hate all of them. BUT there is a taffy machine and I love the finale of running around the house flipping open secret doors and bribing dogs, so I give it points for that.

Freddi Fish and Maze Madness: aptly named because this game has been driving me insane for years. I played it last week and I’m still stuck on level 31. what the fuck. humongous entertainment said let’s make a game for 8 year olds so we can really let those little suckers know they ain’t shit because this thing is impossible

[serpenndragon]

cw for horror-esque design art!

Just some concept art of Bad but it's intentionally spooky this time so :P

+ some fountain pen doodles so It isnt just a text thumbnail O-o

ignore that he doesnt have his scars or uhm. hair

We need more BadBoyHalo being a scary monster so I am here to deliver 🫡 If you havent seen my other art this is his "true" form and what he's worried about the other members seeing, even though a few already know (like quackity, wilbur, niki, tubbo, ect) and the other's probbaly wouldnt judge him or see him differently other than being a bit surprised.

This is turning into a bit of a species info dump but that's what tumblr is for I guess so !

Some things to know- This strange looking ten foot tall monsterish form is what regular Wither demons normally look like! Ofc they're not always pissed like how I drew here but the unsettlingness can still stick around when theyre not trying to be threatening just because of their large teeth, claws, and well being large LOL Bad, coming from the nether originally got the gist firsthand how the overworld viewed WIther Demons and most people were scared of him, so as a safety measure and for his own anxiety he learned transfiguration magic over the coarse of a few years to create himself a smaller, less thretening form. At first it was hard and painful to maintain his smaller form (which is about 5'6, gets rid of most of his teeth, smaller horns/tail/wings that can't fly and less defined leg joints) but after a while of using it frequently along with getting better with his magic he's able to maintain it prettymuch constantly! Though he does have to revert back for at least 30 minutes a day to avoid health issues and longterm transfiguration detriments. (I had a breif idea that during purgatory he would be forced into his true form to defend himself and/or because he kept his smaller one up in front of everyone for too long) Anyyyways Dapper and most of the other babies know about his real form! He lets them ide on his back sometimes and teaches them how to fly/roar and other silly things. hmm another fun fact, Bad has the demon equivelent of a dad bod, if you notice he shed the spikes on his upper back and neck (which parent demons do so their babies can ride on their backs safely), and gained the barbs on his lower neck (which he can rattle to better communicate and imitate the call of a baby demon, it doenst serve much of a purpose with the baby dragons seeing as they aren't wither demons but they've grown fond of the sound when Bad would make it on accident, and can mimic it <3) AKA with the addition of the dragon babies his body went into dad mode like it had when JR was born, he can't really control it but doesnt really mind and it does kinda help him with them anyways. In addition to the physical changes, he's also beome incredibly protective over them Despite them not being his bloodborn children (this is common for wither demons, since their species is scarce they evolved to get these paternal instincts and hormones when they take a paternal role which was meant for ophaned baby demons but works with other species too, Bad's just like oh okay I have a handful of baby dragons my body thinks is its own now woah okay

Went off on a tangent there LMAO i could talk about him all day anyways hope you like my ideas :D

[strontiumsun]

Happy New Year! As the clock turns, I have a special fakemon gift! I've already shared the regional Pikachu for my in-progress fan region, but we also have a regional Eevee with regional Eeveelutions.

This regional Eevee, known as "Smokee" to locals, is a Ghost type. Its body is made of ash and smoke. Despite its strong resemblance to Eevee, Smokee never reacted to any of the known Eevee evolution methods. That was until recent events in the region uncovered a material that, when exposed to Smokee, causes it to evolve!

Regional Vaporeon live in misty mountain valleys. They exhale thick plumes of vapor to hide in. They're known to be temperamental. They have the Marvel Scale ability.

Regional Jolteon live in the forest abutting the foot of the mountain. They fire off stinging spines from their bodies with startling accuracy. They have the Compound Eyes ability.

Regional Flareon fly about in the thin mountain air. The fluff on their bodies absorbs sunlight to keep themselves warm at high altitudes; at night, it releases a pleasant glow. They have the ability Flare Boost.

Regional Espeon have an uncanny ability to dowse for water in their alpine desert homes. When their tails straighten, it means water is near. They have the Water Absorb ability.

Regional Umbreon form packs in the swamps. A strange, sickly glow emanates from the jewel on their foreheads, making them look like will-o-wisps in the night. They have the Corrosion ability.

Regional Leafeon's blades are ultra-light razors that can cut nearly anything, even sheer mountain rock. When its blades dull, it sheds them and grows new ones. It has the Sharpness ability.

Regional Glaceon live in caves, where they use their gem-studded heads to bash open pathways in the dark. They have the Rock Head ability.

Regional Sylveon live in cities. By tightening and loosening the wraps on their legs, they can control the power of their blows. They have the Moxie ability.

As I hope you can see, my idea with creating these Regional Eeveelutions was to fill out the rest of the type chart while keeping the designs within the basic silhouettes of the existing Pokemon. I hope you guys like them!

[cambion-companion]

Waterfall

Based on this Anon ask: I'm not the biggest fan of modern aus but i cant stop thinking about showering with aemond, watching the water cascade from his hair to his neck, his torso and then lower. I think he'd love a good piping hot shower while i just stand there, thoughts of getting clean thrown out of the window (theres also a thought of getting railed from behind while under the shower but its too early for this 😂)

With some encouragement I decided to turn this into a fic under a waterfall, enemies to lovers vibe like my other fic, Captured.

And since all my fics are getting flagged for community guidelines whether they need it or not I've decided to earn it this time with some smut so 18+ only pls

Aemond x fem!reader | making love under a waterfall

"Aemond, please, let's stop!" You called ahead; your hands bound with heavy rope in front of you were beginning to ache in earnest. "It's hot." You muttered as an aside to yourself, wishing you could shed a couple layers.

Up ahead, Aemond paused, turning slightly towards you but not meeting your gaze.

He hadn't looked at you directly since taking you prisoner.

You heard him curse you under his breath.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" You snarked as he stomped back to where you waited.

That got a reaction, Aemond's fiery lilac eye caught you and you found yourself wishing he'd look away. Aemond yanked at your bonds, causing you to stumble forward. Your foot caught a tree root and you fell forward, hard, against the Targaryen's chest.

"Get up." Aemond hissed in your ear, supporting you by your elbows and helping you regain your footing.

"You really have turned into quite an ass since last we met." You grouched, watching as he pulled unsheathed his dagger. "Is that a dagger, or are you just happy to see me?"

"If you don't stop your inane quips, I will show you how much of a dagger this is."

"Tetchy."

With a fluid movement Aemond had cut through the rope that bound your hands and you were free. For a clear second of insanity, you thought of trying to run. You settled for rubbing your sore wrists and glowering at the prince. "Tell me again why you couldn't just whisk me back to King's Landing on a dragon."

"Too high profile." Aemond answered, stowing his knife and beginning to scan the area for a place to set up camp. Of course, you had been designated pack carrier. "Mother wants you back alive and...unspoiled."

"Ah, so you're still a mommy's boy." You slipped the heavy pack off your shoulders, letting it fall heavily to the earthen floor.

Aemond considered you for a moment, before tilting his head, smiling slightly. "Yes."

"I guess that should be a relief." You muttered, rolling your shoulders. "Well!" You clapped your numb hands together. "I'm off!"

With that, you turned on your heel and began descending the forested hill toward the enticing river you could hear rushing nearby.

A firm hand grasped your elbow, halting your progress. "Just where are you thinking of escaping to?"

You turned back to Aemond, trying your best to maintain the debonair mask of indifferent confidence. "Hear that river?" You cupped a hand around your ear for emphasis. "I'm going to take a bath."

"You've no soap." Aemond looked you over dubiously, making you feel self-conscious despite yourself.

"You royals and your luxuries." You sniffed disdainfully. "I'm sure I'll manage."

"How will I know you aren't running away?" Aemond shook his silver head. "No, you're not going anywhere I can't see you."

"You're welcome to join me." You looked at him seductively through your lashes, the effect quite ruined by your state of current filth. "Aemond please. I smell like a barn set afire." You lifted your arms, shuffling toward him. "Give me a hug."

Aemond back away hastily, holding up his hands to fend you off, a begrudging smile curving his lips. "No no! Alright, go clean yourself. Take no longer than strictly necessary or I will come find you."

"Promises, promises!" You were already skipping down toward the river, giggling at the prospect of submerging your hot sticky body in cool water. You even tricked yourself into thinking you heard Aemond laughing behind you.

It was even better than you had anticipated.

A small pool surrounded by rocks and trees lay glistening sapphire beneath the afternoon sun, fed by a small waterfall. You quickly shed your clothes before wading into the cool waters. It was as though this little pool had been crafted by the gods specifically for you. You swam over to the other side of it, flipping onto your back, letting the silken water soak through your dirty hair.

The perfect plants for creating a sudsy lather from their crushed leaves were growing all around the river. You were quick to take full advantage of them, cleaning your grimy skin and sighing in relief.

Time passed, you had cleaned your body as well as your clothes and laid them out on the rocks to dry. You could see smoke curling above the trees from where Aemond must've set up camp. Smiling to yourself you swam laps around the edge of the pool, cupping your hands beneath the waterfall and running them through your hair.

"Y/N!"

"Shit, Aemond!" You didn't bother to hide your naked torso in the water, looking at him over your shoulder. "Oh dear, are you alright? You're turning an alarming shade of red."

"Enough games, Y/N." He crossed his arms, eye focused on your face. "I told you I would come retrieve you if you took too long."

"It's almost as if you don't trust me."

"I don't."

"Oh come on, Aemond." You grumbled, turning your body fully to face him, the water lapping around your waist.

Aemond couldn't help but glance down, passing a hand over his face and swearing lightly.

"You must be hot and dirty as well. Come on in, this river is big enough for the two of us." You waded fully back into the water, Aemond watched you move with an odd expression on his face. "You can trust me. We were childhood friends after all."

"You've changed." His tone made your cheeks flush. "Fine." Aemond began shedding his own clothing, seemingly not caring if you watched him undress.

"Splendid!" You gathered more fronds of the soap substitute you'd created. "There are plants here that I've crushed up to create a soap-like substance. We can wash your clo-"

In your distraction you hadn't noticed Aemond, devoid of any articles of clothing, wading over to the waterfall. He had already created a lather from the same plants you had used and was vigorously washing his long sleek hair beneath the cascading water.

"Well that's completely unfair." You spoke to yourself, your eyes roaming along the planes of his body.

He was lean, not broad and muscular like the men at the farm you worked at. The planes of his torso were defined, and you enjoyed watching the rivulets of water run down his pale skin.

"Suddenly shy?"

Your eyes flicked guiltily back up to his angular face. He had shed his eyepatch; a glittering blue gemstone lay within where his right eye used to be. You had left King's Landing before that had happened to him.

You moved through the water towards him, his hands stilled in his hair as he watched you approach. You noticed his plush lips part slightly, his lilac eye dilating slightly as he took in the sight of you walking slowly out of the water.

You were close enough to touch him now. Your fingers sought his face first. Aemond's eye fluttered closed as you traced his jaw, he caught your wrist before you could caress the vertical scar that ran over his eye. "Don't."

"Aemond." You said softly, your brow furrowing as you gazed at each other. You watched a droplet of sparkling water run down the sapphire gem, catching on his face like a tear. "Please." You breathed, not quite sure what it was you were asking for. Forgiveness? Acceptance?

"Why did you leave?" His voice was low, yet it cut through you like a knife. "I need to know."

"My family didn't want me to be Helaena's handmaiden. They pulled me away, and I didn't have a choice but to obey."

"You could've fought them."

"I was a child, Aemond. You know that's not true."

"Hmm."

Silence fell between the two of you, the rushing water splashing against your skin the only sound. Aemond's grip on your wrist loosened enough for you to cup his face once more. He hesitated, on the brink of something, before turning his head and placing a kiss to your palm. Your breath caught. "Kiss me."

He regarded you, his eye gleaming. You stepped closer, closing the remaining distance and pressing your chest to his, letting him feel your skin against his. You tilted your head up invitingly, your lips inches apart.

Droplets of water caught the sunlight, glimmering as they fell off Aemond's face. He bent into you, time seemed to slow, a rushing sound not at all to do with water filled your ears. You felt his soft lips press against your parted mouth. Your groans of relief vibrated into each other as Aemond wrapped his arm around your lower back, pulling your further against his body. You giggled, feeling the smooth skin of his back, trailing your hands up to tangle in his hair, pulling slightly on the soaked locks, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the prince.

"What have you done to me?" Aemond murmured, nibbling your bottom lip and along your jaw.

"Not one day has gone by I haven't thought of you." You arched your neck as he began sucking bruises to your throat.

He spun you around, pressing up behind you, his arousal evident against the curve of your ass. Water dripped onto your back, running in tickling rivulets down your sensitive skin. Your palms lay flat against the stone wall as Aemond bowed you beneath him, kissing a trail down your neck to your shoulders.

You felt his long fingers running up your legs, you widened your stance, parting your thighs for him.

"So eager." He purred, biting your shoulder gently. "You've been anticipating this for a while now, haven't you?"

Words escaped you as Aemond's fingers found your slippery quim, dipping into the nectar that was leaking from you, dragging a mewl from your mouth. You rocked your hips back into his touch, needing more of him.

"Patience, my flower." Aemond's mouth had found your ear, you turned your face into him, your hooded eyes focused on his lips. "I intend on savoring every inch of you, having you come undone around me until your legs can no longer hold your weight."

Aemond made more than good on that promise, the sound of the waterfall swallowing up your cries of pleasure as Aemond claimed you beneath its waters.

Your fingers were sore from where they had gripped the stone, in fact every muscle was aching in the most pleasant way possible. You felt lightheaded even now as you lay bundled in blankets next to the sparking fire, your head resting on Aemond's chest, his arms circled low around you, his dry hair falling over your throat in a silvery sheen.

You felt his fingers combing through your own hair, leaning into his relaxing touch, allowing your eyes to close as the firelight played warmly across your face. Your clothes were drying near the flames, Aemond's touch beneath the blanket moved to cup the swell of your breast tenderly. Beneath your head you could feel his breathing deepen, his fingers in your hair faltering and stilling.

You didn't know what the morning would bring, not wanting to think beyond this magic moment. When you and Aemond were two lovers alone in the forest, just the two of you. No politics, no jaded history, no dragons or kings.

Just a man and a woman who had always loved each other.