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springbloggy · 7 months

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Found out about this story from the lost media wiki forums and thought it was so interesting and funny. I am hoping toyblr can have more info on this toy.

In 2003, there was a toy recall at Walmart, but not for any of the expected reasons. The toy was a baby's sound machine, meant to soothe babies to bed. The toy was shaped like a tugboat, with some cute sea critters to top it all off.

The problem? Many parents listening to the ocean wave sounds heard a faint voice repeating "I hate you" over and over again. Whether the audio of a voice saying "I hate you" was actually in the sounds, or if it is a case of pareidolia is unknown, however interestingly in one news article*, Walmart did not chalk it up to the phenomenon, calling the noise parents were concerned about "beeps" instead.

The toy was very quickly recalled, no evidence of its existence is documented outside of photos and news articles from the time period. It is a miracle the high quality photo displayed above exists at all.

This is where I think toyblr could step in, if any of you guys have collected toys from 2003 or know someone who has, see if you have this toy and if its audio still works. It would be an incredible find for such a bizarre and somewhat funny search.

More important info:

This toy was under Walmart's "Kid Connections" brand and was presumably manufactured in China. However, the toy could have been manufactured anywhere outside of America as stated in a rant against the brand:

To save money, Wal-Mart contracts with manufacturers to make several private label toys, which are sold under names such as Wal-Mart's Kid Connection. Profit margins on these products, many of which are manufactured outside the United States, are often twice those of brand-name toys, said the executive, who spoke on condition of anonymity because he continues to do business with the retailer.

This toy was made as a cheaper alternative/competitor to Fisher Price's Ocean Wonders Aquarium toy. While there's similarities in design and function, Ocean Wonders Aquarium does not share the same audio as the recalled toy.

I would love for this to be found some day, for the novelty factor and curiosity if the audio really did include that "subliminal message".

*which I will not link to due to it coming from a very alt-right news source, however is linked in the lost media wiki post for those truly curious on the full story

#toyblr #lost media #recalled toys #walmart #fisher price #toys #interactive toys #toddler toys #toy #bootleg toys #bootleg #springy thoughts #cursed toy boat saga

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littlejuicebox · 2 months

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this is random, but a prompt idea that made me giggle is what if Tav wasn’t very interested in Astarion, maybe she’s from a more stoic or conservative country/realm/plane, so his flirting either went over her head or pushed her away… until she sees him sewing. Him acting ‘domestic’ immediately attracts her. Him secretly fixing Karlach’s bear, or later maybe fixing up Yenna’s clothes, makes her give him heart eyes.

Astarion, who already gave up after his flirting failed, is very confused by her sudden attention and requests for sewing lessons. For extra fun, what if post-brain she requests for lessons on sewing tiny clothes, not even realizing she’s asking how to make baby clothes—their baby’s.

Olive Branch

This is a bit different from my other work so I thought I'd give it a go! Not 100% satisfied with it, but I hope you still enjoy, anon!

Word count: 1.3K

Tags/warnings: All fluff, Astarion being Astarion lol

-----

Astarion finally gave up on seducing Tav . He’d originally pegged her as a naive, and therefore easily charmed and manipulated, cleric. Unfortunately, two weeks of wasted effort proved him wrong. She’d barely spoken or paid attention to him and his overt advances at all.

Any attempts to entrance her with aggressive flirtation or the allure of his sexual wiles seemed to have an opposite effect. In fact, Tav would always gravitate more towards Wyll and Gale and preferred to avoid him almost entirely.

He couldn’t be the issue, of course. He was gorgeous, witty, and made it quite clear he was experienced in bed. He was the man of anyone’s dreams; he knows because he’d manufactured himself to be practically undeniable to the masses.

So then it was obviously her… she was certainly the problem. Something about that – admittedly attractive – cleric was strange; she was oddly secretive about her goddess. The rogue couldn’t even be sure which goddess it was; Tav never referred to the deity by name.

Her apparent distaste for him was concerning, however. Just a few days back, the monster-hunter had outed him as a vampire. The entire group seemed ready to cast him aside after that, save their cleric leader. She’d granted him a moment of mercy and had been able to convince the others that he wasn’t a danger, though he felt he was on thin ice with her and everyone else.

Astarion did not know how he was going to charm his way out of this one. And as the rogue sits in front of his tent, mulling over his options for ensuring his own security, he begins to consider that perhaps he should just suck it up and proposition Lae’zel or Gale. One of them would be sufficient, too.

The elf is ripped from his scheming by a sudden groan of dismay from Karlach just a few tents over. When he turns to survey the scene, he sees the slouched tiefling grasping onto that stuffed bear she slept with every night, muttering something to a concerned Tav.

“Perhaps we can find a new bear, Karlach,” Tav says, frowning as she gently takes the stuffed animal from her friend and spins it around in her hand. The toy’s back seam is split apart; tufts of white stuffing spill from the opening.

Astarion instantly recognizes the issue. And the opportunity. Karlach is easily Tav’s favorite campmate – they were two sappy peas in a pod. It was likely that by offering his aid, he’d be able to win points with both the strongest member in camp and their illustrious leader, all without much effort on his part. Perfect.

“I can fix that for you, Karlach, if you’d prefer!” The rogue calls, snapping shut the book he’d been half-reading before taking a few strides toward his campmate, “It looks simple enough, wouldn’t take me more than an hour or so.”

Karlach, always the easily excitable, affable campmate, is grinning as she responds, “Really, Fangs?! You can do that?”

The silver-haired elf chuckles and then nods, taking the bear from a suspicious Tav before briefly examining it, “Certainly. It’s nothing a simple whipstitch won’t fix.”

And then he returns to his tent and quickly sets to work. As promised, the bear is good as new in just over an hour.

Later that evening, the vampire sits close to the campfire, warming his icy skin. Apart from Tav, all his campmates had returned to their tents and since gone to sleep. The cleric was perhaps the only person that loved the fire almost as much as he did; she would often stare at it for long periods of time as if in prayer or meditation.

These nightly moments between the two of them typically passed in relative silence until one or the other dismissed themselves from the strained situation. Sometimes it felt as if they were fighting for a claim over the fire.

But tonight, Tav turns her head to stare at Astarion for a moment too long, prompting him to face in her direction with an arched eyebrow.

“You’re quite talented at sewing,” She says, her eyes flickering across his face, examining it as if it’s brand new and not a visage she’s already known for weeks. Astarion thinks he sees her skin reddening, but then, she’s sitting remarkably close to the flames.

This olive branch is unexpected.

“Is that an actual compliment?” Astarion retorts, feigning shock and cocking his head just slightly, “I suppose I’ll take it, darling. I have to admit it’s preferable to the eye rolls and sighs you normally send my way.”

Tav shrugs, not really refuting any of the rogue’s claims, before continuing on, “I suppose I didn’t think you had a domestic bone in your body. I misjudged you.”

“Domestic?” Astarion asks, his tone betraying his displeasure at being called such a thing. He thinks she means to call him weak and is about to spew an insult in the cleric’s direction before she interrupts.

“I don’t mean offense,” She starts, throwing her hands up in surrender, “I apologize, I forget that isn’t always viewed as a compliment. But where I come from, domesticity is a highly favored attribute.”

The rogue’s vitriol dies in his mouth as he assesses the woman in front of him. He can’t help it, he’s curious, so he asks, “And where do you come from, exactly?”

There is a long moment of silence. Tav heavily considers her response. And then she sighs and shrugs, “I’m from a hamlet in the Dalelands… it’s quite small, made up of no more than a few hundred. Most of us worship Hestia, the goddess of hearth and home.”

Astarion’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to recall this goddess, but he doesn’t recognize the name.

Tav realizes Astarion has no clue what she’s talking about and visibly relaxes, “She is the goddess of hearth and home in our beliefs. Most inhabitants of the Dalelands worship Chauntea… Hestia worship is not widely accepted. It’s generally considered savagery.”

The rogue shrugs. He really didn’t care who worshiped which god. In his eyes, all gods and goddesses were essentially the same and none of them seemed to respond anyway. Everyone was free to beg whatever deity for whatever handouts they wanted; he preferred to abstain from the practice entirely.

“Good for you, darling, go on and worship whoever tickles your fancy,” The elf responds, turning once again to watch the fire.

Another stretch of silence, this one a bit more comfortable than any moments previous. Astarion doesn’t notice as the cleric quietly admires his profile, her eyes filled with a yearning that hadn’t ever been directed towards the vampire until now.

After a while, Tav stands and briefly stretches her muscles. She walks a few steps toward her tent but then abruptly spins around to look at the rogue.

“Astarion?” She murmurs, her tone almost hesitant, as if she’s unsure of herself.

“Yes?” He replies, ripping his eyes away from the fire and dismissing his own thoughts to acknowledge the woman.

“Do you think you’d be able to show me how to sew like you? I only know the basics. I thought you could give me sewing lessons and I could teach you something in return… crochet or how to play the lyre, perhaps?” She asks, her hands twisting together in an anxious knot as she speaks.

The rogue nods almost imperceptibly, subtly cocking his head as he processes Tav’s sudden change in attitude toward him before responding, “Certainly, darling.”

Tav grins, and it appears almost childlike. Astarion feels the briefest flicker of affection toward the woman at her relative innocence, which is such a stark contrast to his own jaded nature.

“Okay, then. How about starting lessons tomorrow night?” She asks, still smiling, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“Sounds like a plan,” The elf responds, and then watches with idle curiosity as Tav bids goodnight and walks away.

Astarion smiles as he returns his attention to the fire. He thinks this is a nice, simple plan; an easy way to keep himself safe in the wilds. Surely a plan as simple as this couldn't fall apart.

Right?

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion fic #baulders gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate astarion #spawn astarion #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x cleric #astarion fluff

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69dias · 1 year

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jjk drabble: tease

a/n: perhaps writers block has killed me for real and I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY!!!! i cooked this up on the first hour of a plane to New York and it was originally abt our wonderful liverpool RB Trent AA but alas … jungkook gets the crown. enjoy.

warnings: app control vibrator, fucking in public, voyeurism and slight exhibitionism, slight d/s Dynamics (she calls him sir once it’s whatever), mean jungkook who is also very much a sweetheart, spitting (on da pussy WOAH) … I think that’s it

wc: 1.6k she’s a baby IM SORRY

jungkook is a tease. it’s one of the first things you learned about him, and it’s one of those things that you’ve grown to love, even if — especially if — they’ve been the causes of serious hitches in your relationship. other such things include his competitiveness, the little spirals of self-deprecation, all of them. but most of all, his tendency to tease you.

and though you’ve grown to love it, right about now is one of those times you realize why exactly it caused those hitches in your relationships because if he doesn’t let up in the next minute, you’re ready to go over to where he’s sitting and choke the life out of him.

surely, murders committed a thousand feet above international waters couldn’t have any real consequences, right?

to set the scene of your predicament, imagine three things: a flight to New York, a vibrator that connects to someone’s phone, and that someone, being jeon jungkook. the tease, who’s somehow managed to find the only way to make a first class flight uncomfortable.

you swear you’re going to kill him.

it’s not the fact that it feels bad in the slightest. lush manufacturing is incredible, and the small sparks of pleasure in between your thighs are enough proof of it. the vibrations can go up all the way, pulsing on top of your clit with scary accuracy — a preview of what jungkook promised you in exchange for this insane excapade — leaving you wet and sloppy until just crossing your legs would push you straight over the precipice of the edge, fuck the seatbelt sign preventing you from doing it, or they can be little thrums, mimicking soft kitten licks all over your heat, so good that they leave you arching your back to get a better angle —

no. it’s not that it feels bad.

it’s just that it could feel so much better if he would just let you cum.

but alas, he’s a fucking tease, and he knows you like the back of his own hand, down to the time it takes you to reach the point of no return. you’re sure he can see you, too, with where he’s sitting and how you can practically feel his vision sear into your skin which feels like it’s on fire as is. it practically hurts how close you are, nails digging into the palm of your hand to keep from moaning out loud — or worse, begging out loud.

if only you had the genius idea of a vibrating cock ring more than 30 minutes before leaving for the airport, jungkook would know exactly how tantalizing this felt for you.

the thing about being in such a vulnerable position, though, is the lack of jungkook’s presence. typically, when he’s beneath you, head caught between your thighs as he eats you out like it’s his last meal, or when he’s holding a toy to your clit until the last possible second, you know he’s right there. it’s the verbal affirmations: I got you, you’re doing incredible, that’s my girl, just a little more, just a little more for me, and the physical touch: a hand on your lower back or his lips ghosting over your boobs or just something aside from the surprisingly soft blanket draped across your thighs.

you pick up your phone to tell him this, to tell him to meet you in the bathroom or whatever he can manage because of the damn seatbelt sign, but it seems like he’s beat you to it.

JK💗: close, baby?

JK💗: look at you. you look so pretty from here.

JK💗: god, you’re perfect, aren’t you? just so pretty and pliant for me.

[__]: im going to murder you.

JK💗: that’s a bit rude, no?

JK💗: you think that’s what a good girl would say if she wanted to cum?

[__]: you’ve lost your mind . im so fucking Close this is unfair

JK💗: who said i’d be fair? i told you to be good, and you’re really not doing that right now

[__]: fuck you

[__]: no wait

JK💗: cmon honey. what do we say when we’ve been rude?

JK💗: I can see you reading these, baby. gotta give me an answer.

[__]: please, im sorry.

JK💗: attagirl, sweetheart. you wanna cum?

[__]: yeah

JK💗: what’s that?

[__]: yes, sir. please.

JK💗: look up, honey. seatbelt sign’s off. bathroom in 2?

he turns off the vibrations right as you tilt your head up to confirm that the sign has, indeed, been switched off. it’s well-earned relief, but the reminder that you’ve been so violently toyed with still covers your inner thighs and you’ve never missed something yet been so happy that it was finally gone before.

when you turn your head to jungkook’s seat, he’s no longer there, and the small pulse between your legs comes alive again as you realize what’s about to happen when you meet him in the bathroom.

two minutes is too long, far too long, but you’ve weathered the last half hour of torturous edging which has straight up convinced you that you could fight a war if you so pleased. you sneak a hand between your thighs, pressing ever so softly to somehow fuck the toy against you but it’s really to no avail because jungkook texts you just as you do.

JK💗: cmon honey, coast’s clear.

you don’t think you’ve ever moved that fast in your life.

—

jungkook, is, as it goes, just as generous as he is a tease.

you think it’s worth it, all of the torture and the feeling of having a high snatched from you so violently right when you’re at the precipice of it, your bitten lips and indented palms being physical proof of the denial you endured for so long —

it’s all worth it, every bit of it.

because jungkook is beneath you, caught between your legs, licking at your clit, the fabric that’s practically stuck to your skin from the arousal that dripped from you ever since he started the worst foreplay known to man pulled aside. he’s desperate too, and if you were to move your foot an inch to the left to rest on his thigh, you don’t have a doubt that you’d be met with his hardened dick, but you don’t give a fuck; relishing in the fact that he’s getting karma and you’re getting eaten out.

your hands are caught in his hair, pushing him impossibly closer as he tongue fucks you, his own fingers dimpling the skin of your bare thighs as he gives you all the touches you were missing just a few minutes ago. jungkook is big on eye contact, and the soft nipping at your clit is enough of a message for your head to snap down, meeting his large eyes from where he’s kneeling on the floor.

they’re red rimmed with his own carnal desire, pupils blown out as you can practically see how his jaw moves so he can give you exactly what you deserve —

“fuck, fuck, please — jungkook, please.”

he pulls away for a second, and a soft whine of disappointment colors the air at his absence. he doesn’t let you feel it for too long though, opting to plant a kiss on your inner thigh before he speaks.

“shhhh, baby. don’t wanna get banned from these airlines now, do we?” his voice has a humorous bite to it, but the demand from him is clear enough that you know not to disobey, clamping your own hand over your face to not make noise.

jungkook’s mouth on your pussy doesn’t fare better, though, the obscenely slick noises loud even through the faint ringing of your ears as you get closer to your high. he’s opted to just flick at your clit now, one of his fingers prodding at your entrance until you spread your legs like an absolute slut getting fucked in an airplane bathroom to grant him permission.

you don’t care, though, because all you can focus on is his warm mouth on you, all you can focus on is how his thick digit reaches just the right spot inside of you, all you can focus on is the way he slides another one in with ease that should be humiliating but you don’t care.

the coil in your stomach tightens and you know that he’s aware of this because his eyes darken; fingers pumping in and out of you with a renewed vigor and goal — to make you cum.

the previous highs that you were so meanly denied of come back to you, coiling in the tresses of your stomach as you realize how filthy, how risky this whole thing is.

it’s has you biting down on your palm, hips bucking into jungkook’s relentless mouth as he pulls your thighs impossible further apart, pulling away for just a split second to spit on your pussy like you’re nothing but a deserted street.

that does it for you; the dominance and the bit of dehumanization that should be demeaning but it’s nothing other than incredibly attractive. it has the coil snapping violently, tears spilling from your eyes as the vigor of your high finally reaches a climax, wracking through every nerve in your body until you have both of your hands pulled up to your face to stop the moans threatening to spill from your mouth.

he lets you ride his face through it, sticking his tongue out and slapping the side of your thighs so you keep looking at him until you exhaust yourself out.

the pulsating pleasure eventually dims itself down into a slow thrum that runs through your veins, colored in with a satisfying exhaustion that has you slumping into jungkook’s arms when he pulls himself up with a groan.

he kisses your temple, warm hand rubbing the small of your back through your (his) sweatshirt.

“that good enough, baby?”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook/reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook blurbs #jungkook fics #jungkook fic #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #bts smut #bts drabbles

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tomtenadia · 4 months

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Our solstice miracle

@leiawritesstories helooooo I am your secret Santa. Here I am with your present. Turns out that watching the NHL (the game between the Dallas Stars and Nashville predators was live and I had in it the background - neither of them are the team I support but the sound of hockey was perfect for writing) was all I needed. Not a huge story and definitely not a masterpiece but I hope the fluff will give you fuzzy feelings.

It's a Rowaelin as parents, we have Maya being her usual adorable self, lots of cuteness and a very small hint of smut at the very far end.

Merry Christmas and also thanks to @rowaelinscourtfor organising this event.

Aelin loved the solstice. Loved winter and snow. The whole season made her giddy and Terrasen was big on winter since the snow was a permanent feature of the land.

But that year the celebrations had been a little subdued.

Her husband Rowan had gone to work for a month across the sea. He was an aircraft engineer working in the R&D department for a company manufacturing airplanes. He was quite renowned in his field and they had asked for him specifically. He was meant to be back already but the airport in the country he was at the moment, had shut down due to heavy snowstorms.

Aelin had cursed them and complained that they needed to be ready for all sorts of weathers and do not stop her husband from coming home and enjoy the holidays with his family.

She and Maya, their six years old daughter, had called him that morning to wish him a good holiday and Rowan had joked that he was going to suggest an upgrade in planes to be more resilient in heavy snow.

“Mama, can we skate?”

They lived outside Orynth in a huge chalet style house with nature around them and, to their delight, a lake behind the house. Such lake usually froze over around the beginning of November until usually the end of March.

Aelin smiled, the lake had a lot of memories for her and Rowan. He had taught her to skate when they were young and he was a hotshot hockey player at uni. They had their first date on a bench on its banks. He proposed while they lay on the ice and admired the northern lights painting the sky with colours. She had announced him she was pregnant with Maya on a summer day during a walk.

She sighed “yes, baby we can go and skate before it gets dark.”

Maya squealed in delight and ran to her bedroom to grab her skates.

When she came back she had her backpack on her and a pair of small skates in her hands.

Rowan still played hockey in the local amateurs club and loved the more relaxed attitude.

He had the skills to go pro but he was more concentrated on finishing his degree with flying colours and get a good job so, although he had been the captain and he led his team to numerous victories he had no interest of playing hockey professionally. When then he met Aelin, the fiery med student who loved to figure skate occasionally, he knew his heart had been stolen. They fought when they had to share the ice, until they started practicing together.

They both had very demanding degrees but together they faced all the adversities and the stressful exam sessions. They even survived the four months that Rowan spent away for a prestigious work experience after graduation.

Seven years of marriage and this separation of a mere month was taking a toll on her. It was the first solstice apart and she was definitely not a fan.

“Why are you taking elf?”

“Because he wants to see the lake.”

Aelin kneeled near her daughter “Maya, leave elf home, you don’t want risk losing him, do you?”

“No mama.” The little girl removed the toy from the bag and placed him on the sofa telling him that she would be back soon.

Maya loved that stuffed elf. Rowan’s mum had gifted it to her when she was one and they had been inseparable.

“I am ready.”

Aelin got ready and made sure her daughter was all wrapped up.

“Do you want to take your stick?”

Maya had of course grown up surrounded by hockey. It was a religion in Terrasen and with her grandad being a famous THL player and her dad a keen player, it was bound to happen that she’d be obsessed too. She had just started her basic hockey lessons and going to games was a family tradition. Having Aelin’s father as a living legend it was enough to grant them great seats most of the home games and a lot of meet and greet with players.

“Yes mama, I need to practice and show dad I am good.”

Aelin smiled and grabbed the equipment and then left the house and headed to the lake.

The scene in front of them was stunning. The sky was a stunning deep blue and the air was crispy with temperatures at a mild -2C. Well, mild for Orynth standards.

At the bench Aelin sat her daughter down and helped her changing into her skates. Maya was still learning to tie her shoes so Aelin did it for her “now, wait for mum to change too and we are going, okay?”

“Mama, will you dance for me?”

Aelin smiled. Once, during a family outing Rowan had pushed Aelin to show their daughter some of her skills. It took some convincing but Aelin managed to re enact some of her routines. She had been in the figure skating team at uni but never had the time to take it seriously. Med school did not agree with extracurriculars. She loved skating and with time it had become a way to relax after a stressful day.

Together they reached the middle of the lake and Maya sat down on the ice, her heavy snow trousers keeping her warm and dry.

While keeping an eye on Maya Aelin did a loop while gathering speed. She pulled up her leg and spun quickly, listening to Maya giggle and cheer her on and when she was sure she had enough speed Aelin moved her body in position and executed a toe loop jump. A big smile painted on her face as she landed and with that boost of confidence she did another loop gathering momentum for a Salchow.

Maya whooped in the background and Aelin skated back to her daughter “did you like that?”

“Yes mama, you are so pretty.”

Aelin never really learned the other more complicated jumps. She could land a decent Lutz but never had the time to learn something like an Axel. She knew the theory but never tried it.

Maya got up “mama, me too.”

Aelin laughed and took time to show Maya what to do. While her daughter was busy trying to jump, Aelin snapped a few pictures of her and sent them to Rowan We are at the lake and we miss you deeply. It’s not the same without you.

His answer came very quickly I miss you madly too. The hotel offers very little in terms of entertainment and people here cannot deal with the snow.

Aelin sighed and started at the background of her phone where she had a picture of Rowan and Maya.

“Come on muffin, play with mum.”

Aelin extracted a puck from her backpack and collected her stick from the ice. Maya got ready too and as soon as the black disc was on the ice, Maya sprung forward and grabbed it.

Aelin was speechless. Maya had definitely inherited her father’s skills on the ice.

“Mama look.” She skated away and pretended to score in an imaginary net. Aelin burst out laughing and move forward towards her daughter and then stole the puck “it’s mine.”

Maya groaned in a way that sounded a lot like her father when he was frustrated and started give chase to her mother.

Not long after, both girls were splayed on the ice laughing while Aelin kissed her daughter on her rosey cheeks.

“Fine, munchkin, you are a better skater.”

“Can I tell dad?”

“Of course, my love.”

The sun had started to fall at the horizon and Aelin was about to tell Maya it was time to go home, when a tall figure appeared at the edge of the woods.

She would recognise that silhouette everywhere. But it was not possible. Rowan was far away, stuck in a foreign land away from them. He had texted her a few hours ago. Surely she was dreaming.

He stopped to change into his skates and then moved towards them.

“Dada.” Maya screamed and put all her strength into skating to her father.

Rowan met her halfway and lifted the girl in his arms “dada, you are back.”

“Yes, my love, I really could not stay away anymore from you and your mum.”

“Did you miss me?“ her face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

Rowan’s gaze found his wife’s and smiled “I did. So very much.”

Aelin moved closer and a sob erupted from her lips and once she was in his arms she melted against him, inhaling his scent of pine and snow that always made her feel at home.

For a time that seemed endless they remained like that, Rowan with his arm around Aelin’s waist and Maya sandwiched in-between her parents.

“Ro, not that I am complaining but how?”

He chuckled “one of the guys stuck with us is ex airforce. He got tired of being away from his family so, with the help of the big boss of the company we managed to get a private jet organised and have clearance. He flew us home safely. The storm had abated, it was just the airport which was in bad condition.”

“Well, we need to buy a few drinks to this colleague.”

Rowan laughed and deposited a kiss on Maya’s head “I guess I just have to beg your dad for a few extra VIP hockey tickets.”

Aelin kissed her husband “all you want, hotshot.”

“Dada, will you play with me?”

Rowan placed his daughter on the ice and grabbed the stick Aelin passed him “come on muffin, show me what you have got.”

Aelin moved to the bench and changed back in her shoes while admiring father and daughter play.

Later on that night, after Maya was cozy in her bed and asleep after an intensive round of storytelling from her dad, Rowan joined his wife in bed.

Aelin placed the book on the nightstand “how many?”

“Five stories.”

“She missed you, Ro.”

Aelin pulled her husband closer “She is not the only one,” he added while snuggling closer.

His lips found her and devoured her mouth in an hungry and avid kiss “next time, we are meeting here and we’ll teach them something about winter flying.”

Aelin chuckled as her hand sneaked into his boxers “now, dear husband, show me just how much you missed your wife.”

Rowan growled as he pulled the t-shirt off her and his mouth closed to a hard nipple.

“Ro?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Maybe tonight we can work on making Maya a big sister?”

His head lifted and his green eyes lit up in joy and the statement “oh well then, you know I love a good challenge.”

“Then get to work, old man.”

Rowan laughed and caged his wife in his arms.

After a month away, being back with his family was all the solstice miracle he needed.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #aelin galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction

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ebonyslasher · 3 months

Note

Could you make a Candyman NSFW alphabet post or smut with him?

Spicy Alphabet: Candyman Edition

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Daniel uses his one hand to massage you down, allowing your body to completely relax. You didn't think it was possible, but he was an expert at giving his one hand massages. Once, you're completely melted, he cleans off any residue and lays beside you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Daniel: His legs. They're long, beefy, and smooth. They are quite powerful.

You: Your hips. It turns him on when they swish side to side as you walk and tease him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ejaculates an average amount, but it’s honey?

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He did attempt to control the bees to help a previous partner get off…using the idea of old sex toys that were used by Cleopatra. It did NOT go well. The bees were angry at him, they wouldn't even come when he summoned them! At least he didn’t have to see that sex partner ever again.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yes. He’s been “alive” as a ghost for a long time. Throughout the ages, he would occasionally have some fun with some very willing victims.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Neutral. He’s open to laugh and joke flirtatiously, like most older black men do. But, he can be quite serious when he needs to be.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Groomed. There’s no way a man dressed like that would not be

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimate. The way he takes you down and up, inside and out, wet and messy would be classified as a romantic experience. He leaves you utterly spoiled when he makes love to you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It’s quite hard to jack off if one of your arms is missing and then…the bees. So he just relies on sexual encounters with others. If he’s desperate to come, then he will just grind on something and ejaculate at the friction

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Nice fragrances or aromas, voyeurism, cumplay, massages

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your smiles, smelling good, flirting with him. Calling him daddy. Dressing up in lingerie under normal clothes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Don’t argue, be mean, dismiss his abilities, or let him see that you’ve been with other people

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving. Daniel savors the taste of you with precision. The years of practice show through his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and hard

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s the making love type, so he would rather take his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, as long as no one gets hurt.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Moderate. He can last 20 to 30 minutes a session. He can go for 4 or 5 sessions in a day

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No, manufactured sex materials don’t really do it for him. Rather, he would be prefer to use it on you to see you writhe and grind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will verbally tease you as he slowly strokes against your sensitive walls.

"You were talking all that shit earlier, now look at you...my beautiful mess."

"You can do it baby, Daddy's got you. Yessss, feel it on through."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderate. He grunts and has low moans. He’s also a dirty talker

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Since he ejaculates honey, he will lick it up (or have you do so) and spit swap when making out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

9 inches length. 2 inch Width.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends. He entertains fake sleeping beside you, just to be close to you. Once you’re asleep, he will disappear. If you’re still awake, then he will take it as a challenge to put you to sleep.

#slasher x reader #candyman 1992 #candyman #black reader #grown folks business #spicy alphabet #daniel robitaille #daniel robitaille x reader

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impishtubist · 4 months

Note

please tell me how much sirius spoils remus and the kids for christmas

Oh, Sirius spoils them all so much.

Remus spends most Christmases knocked up (he hates being pregnant in the summer, so Sirius usually knocks him up in the fall so he'll have the baby before then). So, by Christmas, he is truly Suffering and Sirius is in full Dad mode. He's buying Remus everything his heart desires, he's getting him spa days, he's catering to his every whim (Remus is craving a food you can only get from one street vendor in New York City? Sirius is ON IT).

And Sirius spoils the kids so much. When they only have a couple of kids, they only need one tree and all the presents fit under it perfectly. But by the time they're on kid 4, 5, 6, etc., they need multiple trees. There are PILES of presents for each kid, everything they've ever asked for and even more. Sirius will even contact toy manufacturers and threaten/bribe them to give him toys that haven't even been released yet.

As the kids get older, Sirius's gifts get bigger/more elaborate, depending on their interests. They have a favorite Quidditch team? Sirius arranges for them to have a private lunch with all the players. They have a place they want to visit? Sirius arranges a month-long family vacation there. They're into fashion? Sirius buys them a whole new wardrobe.

#wolfstar #omega remus lupin #alpha sirius black #breed that old man 2023

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funridetoy · 2 years

Photo

#online toys manufacturer #baby walker online #tricycle manufacturer in delhi #kids product manufacturer

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Note

hmm what about obs pda or lack of pda?

our beloved summer; a drabble

“Kiss.”

“Hmm? Oh, Jungkook, mphmm—!”

A sudden hand squishes your cheeks together and angles your face toward him, making your eyes widen in surprise. Jungkook plants a quick one on you, right as you’re both queuing in the campus cafe, in broad daylight, where everyone can see you.

With your eyes still big as saucers, he flashes you a bunny grin when he pulls back.

“What are you doing?”

He simply shrugs, like you just asked him a stupid question. “Kissing?”

“I know what kissing is!” You roll your eyes, then lower your voice like you’re harboring classified information and Jungkook just spilled it to the rest of the world. “But we’re… in public!”

He leans closer to your face and drops his volume to match yours. You think he might kiss you again, but it sounds like he’s making fun of you; he’s so annoying. “So?”

“So… save it!”

You aren’t a big fan of PDA, never have been. Chick flicks and romcoms have made people such suckers for all that stuff, but you just think it’s kind of icky. Of course, Jungkook just pecked you, it’s not like he was shoving his tongue down your throat while everyone cheered you on. And you have no qualms with being a little gooey when you’re around your close friends. But still.

Out in the open like this, the most you did was stand next to him with your arm brushing his. The pair of you looked like buddies rather than two people dating.

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“I don’t particularly enjoy it with other people watching, no…”

Jungkook hums in thought for a brief moment, deflating, as you inch a little further up the line, right by the counter where the barista is wrapping up someone’s order. “Anything at all? No kissing, no hand holding, nothing?”

“I— I don’t—”

“Hi! What can I get you today?”

You direct all your attention to the girl in front of you, manufactured smile on display as she prepares to jot down your coffee orders. You recognize her from one of your elective classes earlier this semester before she dropped the course.

Jungkook offers to pay for both drinks, and you only let him do it this once because he insisted, as you’d already covered for his coffee the last time. You can tell he’s starting to become a little off; he doesn’t even let his arm touch yours anymore as he pulls out his card and swipes it on the machine, and he’s quiet the whole time you wait to pick up your desired iced lattes.

You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to look at you.

“What?” he asks.

“What?” you echo. “Is that a problem?”

“Is what a problem?”

“Me, not wanting to get… sentimental in public.”

Jungkook shifts his weight onto one side as he leans against the counter, regarding you with a kicked puppy look on his face. You don’t know if he’s trying to guilt trip you on purpose, but it’s kind of working. Maybe. Definitely. It’s the goddamn gigantic eyes.

“I don’t know,” he says earnestly, toying with the loose fabric at the hem of his shirt. “I’d like to do it sometimes. Not like excessively or anything. Just a kiss every now and then. Hold your hand when we’re out together. Y’know… that kind of stuff.”

You still for a minute, watching as the barista cooks up your much needed caffeine intake of the day. Ice, milk, and a heaven-sent shot of espresso. But even that satisfying visual of liquid goodness meeting your beloved oat milk can’t distract you from the muscly man who’s pouting next to you.

Jesus Christ.

“Okay, fine, Jeon–” You stop yourself when he glares at you, a reminder not to call him that anymore now that you’re no longer arch nemeses, “Fine, Jungkook, how about a compromise?”

You hold out your pinkie to him, very childishly, like you’re five years old again and making promises for forever. He looks at your finger and then at you, blinking twice at your wordless offer. You wiggle it in his direction, waiting.

“Well? You said you wanted to hold hands.”

“That is not your hand,” he counters with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a compromise,” you say. “Baby steps.”

“Are we in kindergarten?” Jungkook rolls his eyes but takes your pinkie anyway. It’s warm where your skin meets his. He yanks you forward by the sheer force of his littlest finger, until you crash into his solid body where he steadies the both of you with his free hand holding onto the counter. You gasp, wide eyed again, making a few pairs of eyes dart to you from where they were practically glued to their laptop screens.

“Hey!” you grumble, instantly embarrassed because now even the barista is looking at you weirdly. Some people are frowning at the pair of you absolute clowns for disrupting their study session.

Jungkook looks at you with a smug look adorning his features. Your faces are too close for comfort, and your cheeks flush from both the self-consciousness that the cafe-goers are judging you, and from the proximity between yours and Jungkook’s body — which is practically none.

He ducks to hover his mouth over yours, relishing in the way you squirm and try to move away. The man seems unfazed that everyone here is either highly irritated, or intrigued by this weird act that you two are putting on.

You stop wriggling, however, when Jungkook locks your lips with his own, and you think that the sudden lack of air is making you short-circuit because why is this so disgusting sweet but also disgusting cute of him?

You feel him smile against your lips and his pinkie tighten around yours. You could practically taste the sweetness of it all.

So much for baby steps. He’s so fucking annoying.

The kiss doesn’t last long at all. Fifteen seconds, tops. When Jungkook parts from you, he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, the one you’re so familiar with, the one you used to hate with your entire being.

“Dialing back the PDA starting… now.”

#reposting because i got so annoyed that it didn't show up in the tags!#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #fic: our beloved summer

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klainepolls · 5 months

Text

For reference: sad beige baby aesthetic

Making your case in the tags is always encouraged~

#glee #kurt hummel #glee polls

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miss-atena · 1 year

Note

>:]

Gimme a Jason with a reader traumatized by toy story and is terrified of toys

Im not scared of toys but what if you know? And ofc i need more of our favorite boio

Sam you are a GENIUS omg

Also yes, more toymaker content (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠)

Jason the Toymaker x Reader who is terrified of toys

When you were little, you were already sort of creeped out by some toys. Those dolls with huge and doe-y eyes, the Halloween typical toys and even some badly manufactured plushies were enough to make you cry.

But it all kicked in tenfold when you watched Toy Story for the first time.

Maybe it was the bad 3d renders that helped it, but the thought of your toys walking around by themselves, while you were asleep or not on your room, it made you shiver and almost have a panic attack.

You coped with this extreme fear you got, by getting rid of every toy you had, with the excuse that you were too old for them.

When you ended up meeting Jason, when you were already a grown adult, you were in a trance by his odd looking outfit and hair, and his different personality.

He was different than anybody you've met, and you made sure to keep in contact with the man, since he was actually kinda cute with that mahogany hair and Amber eyes.

One day, he invited you to see his shop. He never really told you that he had a shop, much less what it was about, but the surprises from him were always pleasant, so you accepted.

Oh boy how you regretted it.

When you saw just the front of it, your heart dropped to your feet, and you started sweating.

'no no no no no no no'

Jason seemed proud to show you his shop and the toys he made, dragging you inside without even noticing how bad you were feeling.

It must've taken a solid 15 minutes before you knees failed you, and you fell down.

You felt as if the big shelves of toys would fall on top of you, but Jason finally noticed your face and tears. Fucking finally, took him long enough.

"What's wrong? Did you not like the baby dolls? I have plushies, if you prefer them, or some beautiful wooden cars, i carved them myself."

You didn't want to make him feel bad, but you had to say, so you told about this trauma you had.

He felt... A lot of emotions. First surprise for you not telling him, then sadness for you not sharing his passion, but he pushed the negative emotions he felt, and brought you to the back, past his workshop, to the little room he slept.

He quickly put the toys he had there on his workshop, and left you in the room, promising you some calming tea.

He decided that day, that he needed to help you with this trouble. He would NOT leave his dream, the toys he worked so hard his whole life to make.

But he could help you overcome little by little. It was not like he was gonna give up this soon on you. You did help him on some hard times of his.

He just needed to make sure he was not gonna overwhelm you. You were as precious to him as she was, so he couldn't let go. Not now.

I hope you enjoy Sam! This was really fun to write!

#sammy-a-87 #thank you for asking!#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker x you #goblin writting

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dwellordream · 1 month

Text

“The Great Depression reached into every corner of the country, but it did not affect all people equally. For many middle-class women of all races, the depression required certain changes in spending patterns: buying cheaper cuts of meat, feeding the homeless men who stopped at the back door, and doing without new clothes. Some of these women continued to do community volunteer work, raising money for the unemployed. They saw the food lines, but they did not have to join them.

Among women workers, race played an important role. The fierce competition for jobs fueled racial resentments. Mexican-American and African-American women were the first to lose their jobs and the last to get relief from welfare agencies. Often, they were already living on the margin of survival. Before 1933, when the Prohibition amendment making the manufacture or sale of alcoholic beverages illegal was repealed, many of these women turned to bootlegging, making their own beer or liquor and selling it.

…Even relatively prosperous farm women--owners, not tenants--in general produced as much as 70 percent of what their families consumed in clothing, toys, and food. They not only gardened but raised poultry. During the depression, women increased the size of their gardens and the number of their hens. They made more butter from their dairy cows and sold it. They cut up the sacks that held large amounts of flour and sewed them into underwear. In the previous decade, they had proudly begun to participate in a culture of store-bought goods. Now they began to can food again. Government agents dragged huge canning kettles across the mountains of northern New Mexico and eastern Tennessee so that women in remote farming villages could preserve their food.

Even with all this work, rural children suffered from malnutrition, and rural women faced childbirth without a doctor or midwife because they could afford neither the medical fees nor the gasoline for transportation. The women resented their declining standards of living, particularly those from better-off farm families who owned their own farms and had, during the 1920s, aspired to participate in the new domestic technology of indoor bath-rooms, modern stoves and heating, and super cleanliness.

…In 1936, a federal appeals court overruled an earlier law that had classified birth control information as obscene and thus illegal to dispense. That decision still left state laws intact, however. The number of birth control clinics nationwide rose from 55 in 1930 to 300 by 1938, but in some states and in many rural areas women still had no access to birth control. In 1937, North Carolina became the first state to provide contraceptives with tax dollar, and six others soon followed. Ironically, North Carolina’s reasoning was not that birth control was a human right but that birth control would reduce the black population.

Despite statistics showing that black women had fewer babies than white women with similar incomes and living situations, many white southern officials in states with large black populations feared a black population explosion. In 1939, the Birth Control Federation of American responded to eager southern state governments by developing “The Negro Project,” a program to disseminate birth control information, which they carefully staffed with local black community leaders. Whatever the logic, one quarter of all women in the United States in their 20s during the depression never bore children. This was the highest rate of childlessness for any decade. Many people simply decided not to get married, and marriage rates fell.

…In the mass media women seemed to be receiving mixed messages. On the one hand, in 1930, the Ladies’ Home Journal featured a former career woman confessing, “I know now without any hesitation… that [my husband’s job] must come first.” In 1931, the popular magazine Outlook and Independent quoted the dean of Barnard College, a women’s college in New York City, telling her students that “perhaps the greatest service that you can render to the community… is to have the courage to refuse to work for gain.” And on its front page in 1935, the New York Times reported that women “suffering from masculine psychological states” and an “aversion to marriage” were being “cured” by the removal of their adrenal gland. In this atmosphere, not only were women workers under fire, but women who centered their lives on women rather than on men came under attack. Lesbianism was no longer chic. Lesbian bars almost disappeared. Homosexuality was now seen by many people as just one more threat to the family.

On the other hand, movie houses showed zany screwball comedies with more complicated lessons. Often deliciously ditsy, incompetent women were rescued by sensible, capable men. Yet, the men in these movies were frequently portrayed as bumbling or slower-witted than the women. Sometimes the men were people who needed joy and whimsy restored to their lives, not an unexpected theme for a nation in the throes of an economic depression. In other movies, however, women were by no means incompetent. The women portrayed by Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis, and Joan Crawford in the 1930s were often intelligent but needed men alternately to tame and to soften them.”

- Sarah Jane Deutsch, “Making Do with Disaster.” in From Ballots to Breadlines: American Women, 1920-1940

#sarah jane deutsch #1930s #race #gender #from ballots to breadlines #class #20th century #history #american

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stories-and-chaos · 27 days

Text

Tarnished pt 19

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 19/?? Word count: 1081]

[Cw: arson, stalker behavior, burns, severe injuries, amputation]

—————

Fizz was surprised by his win at the first clown contest, but Barb and the rest of their troupe weren’t. Most of the performers had come to give the young clown their support. Working with him for so long, they’d been confident he had it in the bag.

He barely had a chance to thank the audience for their support when Mammon whisked him backstage. The King of Greed wanted to sign the brand agreement as soon as possible. Cash, thrilled that his star performer’s image was soon going to be seen all over the Seven Rings, gladly joined them. Since Fizz was still a minor, Cash needed to co-sign as his guardian. There was a flurry of papers, pens, and lawyers saying “sign here, initial here, sign and date here, fill in your mother’s middle name here, print and then sign on this line.” When Mammon wanted something, he was quite efficient. Before half an hour had passed Fizz had a year long contract as Mammon’s new brand face.

Cash started to rethink the whole situation as he’d read the paperwork. There were a number of requirements that would take Fizz away from the circus, especially in the first couple months. Saying no to a Deadly Sin was impossible. The best he could do was insist to the young clown afterward, “You gotta get all this brand image shit done quick kid. We need your act back on the schedule asap.”

“You got it sir!” Fizz replied. “I can’t forget the troupe and all my fans here.” Mammon didn’t look pleased about that and decided to add a non-compete clause for the contract next year. He wanted his shiny new brand baby working for him and him alone.

“Good,’ Cash said as they headed back from the backstage office. “We’re all counting on you Fizzarolli.” For now Fizz had a meet and greet with the crowd. They wanted to find out more about this new talent and he wanted to thank all his new fans.

The next day, Mammon sent a car to bring Fizz before the teen even had a chance to eat breakfast. At least once he arrived, there was a small buffett of breakfast foods in Mammon’s office. He grabbed a couple pieces of toast, a sausage patty and cheese as a breakfast burger and was ready to work with his new benefactor on his brand.

There wasn’t much for Fizz to help decide however. Mammon had the theme (clowns and jesters) decided. They needed to decide which colors were best for Fizz, get his measurements and tailor costumes. Once the first couple costumes were ready, Fizz went through a whirlwind of promotional photo and video shoots.

Mammon had multiple products ready to go. They were mostly manufactured before the contest and just needed the pictures of his face. These included cereal, snacks, lunchboxes, drink containers, notebooks and body pillows. Within two weeks, the soft launch of Fizz-brand products was out. They weren’t done yet. Mammon wanted action figures, toys, bobble heads, hats, and clothing in the Fizz-brand theme for starters. The young imp spent a full week in a black morph suit with dozens of white markers attached to get full body scans in a multitude of poses. Another week was spent with a grid of markers attached to his face and horns as he made expressions.

It was just over a month since the competition when Fizz finished the initial wave of work for Mammon. The soft launch was going well and they were releasing a set of small pushies, including a limited edition in the outfit he won the clown pageant in. The limited edition sold out within hours and the other versions were flying off the shelves.

Fizzarolli’s seventeenth birthday was the week after the plushie launch. With how well his brand deal was doing, everyone at the circus decided it would be a great time to hold a party celebrating both occasions. Fizz and Barb hung out that afternoon since she’d had more than her fill of clown stuff since the pageant’s end. The two of them saw a movie and had some tasty but terrible food before the party started. Fizz went to the circus afterwards, while Barb and a couple of girls from the troupe went out.

She woulda been so bored, Fizz thought, laughing as one of the other clowns put a red nose on him. Cash gave him a glittery card saying ‘Wish You Were My Son’ with a message about the great job he was doing inside. Another imp brought in the lit birthday cake with a flourish. After the cake, Fizz obliged the troupe members with one of his new plate spinning tricks.

Two of the other clowns caught the plates as Fizz tossed him and started juggling them back and forth. The sound of chatter and clapping was cut off by a voice yelling, “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! FIRST YOU IGNORE ME THEN YOU SELL OUT?!” Fizz recognized those whiny shrieks; the stalker fan that Barb kicked and forbid from the circus.

The gathered performers barely started to react when the stalker yelled from the other side of the tent walls. “TRY TO IGNORE THIS BITCH!” A half full glass bottle sailed through the tent flap. Fizz saw the flickering fire on the rag in the bottle’s neck a second before it crashed on the ground. The bottle broke, spraying flaming shards of glass. The circus members started screaming and running. Another molotov cocktail landed in the group as the stalker’s laughter and curse filled yells got louder.

FUCK, the fireworks! The tent holding their pyrotechnics was close to where the party had been held. Panicking, Fizz ran from the fire to check on the fireworks. He hoped they were covered in the fire resistant tarpaulin like they were meant to be.

Lifting the tent flap, the ichor drained from Fizz’s face. The tarpaulin was nowhere to be seen. Worse, the fire had already spread here.

“FIZZAROLLI YOU ELITIST SELLOUT PRICK!” The stalker had spotted him; he started running towards the clown. And the fireworks exploded.

Pain. Bones snapped. Ears ruptured. Hellfire licking his skin. Pain. Have to move. Can’t. Crawl. Pain, flames eating him. Someone, out of reach. Someone, holding sparks. Someone, throwing more fire. Painpainpain.

I’m gonna die. No, move! Crawl, pain, move, legs gone, pull, fire took them, arms going.

Dragged. Painpainpain. Scream. Up, fire chasing, pulled away. A face. Barb? pain

Black.

—————

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#helluva fanfiction #helluva blitzo #helluva boss #helluva au #helluva fizzarolli #helluva barbie wire #helluva mammon #fizzarolli #cw burns #cw injury #cw stalking #cw amputation

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