BTS: how they propose to you

so this is quite a soft one, besides from Taehyung’s one so, warning for that, but i wanted to do something cute and innocent, even though im not good at it (i hate being cheesy and the majority of fluff fanfictions are, like, throw up kinda cheesy) but either way here’s how BTS would propose to you!

as always make sure you send me requests for reactions/imagines/preferences!

some of this content is for mature minds only (taehyung) ;)

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How to hate on Gency 101

1. Be disgusted by the erasure of sexual orientation. Find out that many Gency fans are not straight. Call them “straighties” anyway.

2. Find out that many Gency shippers ship homosexual ships as well, such as Mchanzo and Pharmmetra. Call them homophobic anyway.

3. Understand that Gency is an interracial ship and that Asian men are rarely paired romantically with white women in American culture. Ignore these merits and call the ship racist anyway.

4. Agree that writers shouldn’t necessarily give into pressure based on fans flooding them with comments and popularity polls. Many writers have made unpopular decisions that you agree with like killing off a character or making a lead in their next work female. Ignore this and get mad that Michael Chu won’t make ships canon based on popularity anyway.

5. Be a huge advocate against racism. Believe Michael Chu identifies as Genji just because they are both Asian anyway.

6. Tag Gency hate in the Gency tag and write long posts about how terrible the fans and ship are. When Gency fans respond, call them “toxic” anyway.

7. Rage about your ship not being canon. When a Gency fan responds, say, “The straights are angry” anyway. Return to ranting a minute later.

8. Love that Michael Chu and the writers made Overwatch’s mascot character a lesbian. Treat Michel Chu like a homophobe anyway.

9. Understand that Mercy is no longer Genji’s doctor. Treat it as an unethical doctor x patient relationship anyway.

If you’ve managed all nine steps then… CONGRATULATIONS! You are ready to take your hatred for Gency to the next level. 

anonymous asked:

Is it possible to get into how would someone train if they were to choose a staff as a weapon? In my story, I have a young girl that wants to learn basic self defense and staff training sounds plausible enough, I don't want her to be an absolute badass and she's just learning in case of an emergency. I hope this makes sense ):

You can gain sufficient skill with the staff to use it as a self-defense weapon within a few weeks. You won’t master it in a month, but it’s conceivable to fight with it. It is one of the fastest, simplest, and easiest weapons to learn. The most important thing she’ll need to remember to do is maintain her body’s conditioning (exercise) and keep her basic skills sharp (practice). Self-defense doesn’t work as a one off training and forget, it’s a situation where you either use it or lose it.

The holistic martial arts discipline where you progress through hand to hand to weapons combat is a mostly Eastern tradition in martial arts, this includes India. European tradition isn’t anywhere near as structured, you can start with the staff. Unlike other weapon types, staff training often begins with a real wooden staff, and if we’re going with European tradition then the weapon will most likely be made out of oak. Oak is heavy, heavy staves hurt when they hit you… a lot. You will get hit in training… a lot. In weapon’s training with a partner, we pay for our mistakes with bruises. Getting past the fear of being hit is one of the major components of this training type. Your partner’s weapon can easily slip, slide down the shaft, and hit your unprotected fingers. Learning how to stop that from happening is part of the training.

This is the truth of every weapon type in training: the weapon will punish you when you make mistakes with it. The more dangerous the weapon, the more detrimental the initial injuries.

The staff starts with deep bruises and, if you’re truly unlucky, broken bones (especially broken fingers). Broken collarbones are not outside the range of unusual. This is nothing compared to a weapon like the three sectioned staff where even beginner’s training can net you a concussion.

Unironically, the post I made recently about Nine Steps for Training Techniques applies to how we go about training on weapons. The staff has a straightforward basic move set, the strikes form a cross-shaped pattern across the body high (head) low (thigh) to low (thigh) high (head), then thrust to stomach, bring down on top of head or low the other way into the groin. When partnered with another human being, you practice these strikes together with one person performing the strikes and the other the blocks. The blocks for the staff are matching to the cross-shaped pattern, high low to low high, then bring the staff up horizontal to catch the strike to the top of the head, and a half step back from the thrust to knock it away with the tip of the staff. You can also bring the staff across the body to strike either side of the rib cage. A practiced staff user can shift between all these strikes without the pattern.

The staff is sized to the wielder, usually coming up to around their forehead rather than the top of the head. Your hands on the staff act like a fulcrum, redirecting as you go. You want your hands set wide enough to keep a solid, balanced, and controlled grip on the weapon while also providing you with the freedom to go at speed. This is difficult because your hands are going to want to naturally come together as you practice

The most important thing to remember about the staff is that both ends are weapons. Unless you’re gripping it by it’s bottom, one end is always going to be moving behind you. Most common staff injury when training is bruised knuckles. You can also break your fingers. When sparring with a heavy staff, you will be wearing pads and you will still get bruises. Those bruises may be deep, and sometimes go all the way down to the bone.

Never forget, your weapon senses your weakness. Soft defense leads to debilitating injury, even just in practice. You must be firm, fierce, focused, and unafraid of the pain you will inevitably receive. Learn to be stalwart. (Yes, this is a learned attitude and not one we start with.)

A weapon is never safe.

After practice, your arms will be tired due not just to moving but being on the receiving end of impact when the staves clash. There is no way to avoid this, you simply build resistance via experience. Learning how to keep hold of your staff in the middle of conflict that is trying to knock the weapon from them with each hit made by you or your enemy is necessary. Vibration will travel down the length of the staff to your hands, and that’s what you need to worry about wearing your arms out rather than weight.

Staves can and do break or fracture bones on impact when moving at speed, arms, legs, ribs, heads, feet, etc. They are bludgeoning weapons. When moving at speed in a practice bout, this can happen to you especially if you’re not wearing protection. (Wear protection.) This is not a gentle weapon or a soft one. It is useful too because of its range advantage over shorter weapons, but keep in mind that range means range. The closer the enemy comes, the less useful the staff gets. Your character is responsible for maintaining the fight range at which her weapon is useful. She’s going to need to get creative if the fight starts right next to her.

She’s gonna get her staff knocked out of her hands by whoever is instructing her the first few times because holding onto it does hurt a lot more than we anticipate when we start practicing defense. They’re going to teach her how to defend first though. You learn techniques then ratchet up at a steady pace to ferret out holes in defense.

It is natural for her to be nervous or even afraid of the weapon in the beginning, though she’ll overcome that. No one likes pain, and pain is an unavoidable side effect of weapon’s training. Hand to hand works it’s way up to basic injuries, but weapon’s will nail you coming and going. We’ll hit ourselves, our partner will hit us, we’ll make mistakes, and we pay for them. Usually, it’s just bruises.

There are, of course, stances and footwork associated with staff training but that’s ironically more complex than it needs to get right now.

For endurance training with the staff, outdoors on a variety of terrain is helpful. This includes beaches, on uneven terrain, in forests, in fields, in rivers, etc. All these will help the student learn to navigate different terrain and learn the detriments of fighting in various environments. They also build strength. Sand and water will both sap away strength due to the focus required to maintain balance on soft surfaces and water’s resistance/drag when it comes to movement. They may also teach her how to fight on stairs.

Staff training will provide her with the base necessary to move on to polearms like spears or even some swords if she wants to in the future. Staves with their heads and butts shod in iron as a defense against blades (and extra damage) were also common.

Due to this being self-defense, the focus of her training is going to be on using her staff to create escape opportunities rather than engaging in prolonged conflict.

For more on this topic, you can check out our staff training tag.


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24 is your age and you wouldn’t be able to tell by the smooth blush of your cheek, the constellation-kissed skin of your nose. you could be fifteen by the shrug of your blazer around your narrow shoulders, but you’re 24 and you’re too old to be playing the spy.

18 is the number of steps to the basement. 18 is the one-two one-two click of kitten heels on dirty cement and side-step around a white collared, glossy-badged senior agent who doesn’t even see you because you’re 18 steps closer to below ground, 18 steps closer to the invisibility he wears like a cloak, 18 steps closer. 

7 seconds is how long he shakes your hand, swings it back and forth like a play-ground swing. he feeds you lines from your thesis, knew your mind before he knew your face. the projector paints you in the supernatural. you blink against the light when he smiles. 

3 is the number of syllables he drawls into “plausible” like he’s reversing the definition. he’s a half-finished magic trick, and you watch him to try and catch him stutter in his sleight of hand. 

30000 feet is how high you are above the ground and you were always endlessly earthbound, sea-legs, rock of the tide. he closes his eyes, stretches across the seat across the aisle like he owns it, like it’s his own leather couch (and you don’t know if he has a leather couch, but you think he should) and you think you like that, the way he touches things like they’re already familiar. 

295 miles is the length of oregon east to west, sunrise to sunset. he drives with one hand on the wheel and asks you about eschatology. you’re not squeamish about these things, but your stomach does a half-turn low in your abdomen every quarter of a mile. you laugh and the window sends it back to you packaged like an echo. 

1 is the number of possible alien bodies you discover in a cracked casket. it is a marked increase from the number you expected. you push your glasses up higher on your nose and tell him so with the slant of your gaze. 

11 pm is the time it is when you turn him away from your door, bouncing on his heels like a beta wave that’s breaking away from its core. you rub the curtains through your hands, paperback pages between your thumb and forefinger, and lose sight of him across the dark, wet horizon. 

5 is the number on his motel door when you knock out a nervous rhythm against the wood. three, you think, was the number of spots clustered low on the base of your spine and years from now you’ll think - you’ll think something must have changed, a realignment of poles, when he pressed candle-warmed fingers to the skin just above the dip of your hips: the place on your skin you’d deemed its own x-file. and it’s fitting, it’s somehow un-ironic, that this inexplicable spot is the first place he touches you.

200 is the thread count of the motel sheets. they are seedy love-affair sheets, dime-store romance cotton made to be used, abused, tangled and gripped in fists. they are secret-telling sheets, and he lowers his voice against the side of the bed. you rest your cheek on your hand while the moon plays the mathematician against the curve of his jaw, calculating angles on the lines of his cheeks. he tells you stories without endings until the phone rings. 

113 is the number of raindrops that fall per square foot per second during a thunderstorm. but the number feels exponential, raised to a higher degree in the early morning of an oregon graveyard. your logic presses against his hypothetical like trees blown together against wind. twin smiles crack across your faces like lightning. you laugh in tandem and, even for a scientist, the decibels are incalculable. 

12 is the number of impossible tasks hercules overcame to obtain salvation. your mind dwells on myth but functions in rationale; he speaks in legends and twists tales with his tongue. you put down the phone and pick up your weapons. this is the numerology of beginnings. this is step one.

—  nine is the number of minutes you lose when you look at him (episode 1) // j.a.s
{ red velvet }

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

tags:  @toonerzchatz @promisesandmore @itsallexmallory @impala-moose @jaydiggs1218 @fierydaemon @slightlysouless @jzzyjones @wiindmill @whitestorm547 @hamilturnt @fearless-butter @littleblue5mcdork @arostrolgy @mcgrammer15 @fanagelbagel @mehrmonga @luna-lightwood-potter @strawbirby @21donutlover @alienboymax @hamilbroke @tailored-shirt-tails @wolfphantom-m @moonchildcharm @shadowthepiratecat @english-muffin-top @iamivyfeather @louisianaspell @lastfallenstar @thataudreydork @moonqueerr @niixxo @sarmar29 @a-mistake-tbh @notquiteanobsession @me-idiedforhim @ghostieatemymoxie @arostrolgy @martapetrovic @thomas-jefferdad @justwannaseesomegoddamnlolfanart @that-gay-fangirl

t/w: smut, some cursing

a/n: last part! thank you guys for reading this!

inbox || masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five


Thomas took you out to get your nails done and anything else you wanted in preparation for the party. He offered for you to get your hair and makeup done, but you insisted, it was okay. You’d be fine doing it on your own. 

You came over to his house with everything you needed to get ready. You kissed him as greeting before you went to the guest bedroom to get ready in the adjoining bathroom. 

“You know the bathroom upstairs is big enough for both of us.” Thomas whispered, just having got out of the shower. He had a towel wrapped around his torso. Leaned in the doorway as you got ready in the bathroom.

“One sec, I’m doing my eyeliner.” You said back, holding your pen in place. You slowly drew your wing onto your skin, making small quick strokes. “Gotta focus.”

“You don’t need it.” Thomas hummed, smiling a little as he watched how carefully you worked to achieve your look. “I think you look beautiful without all the makeup.” 

“That’s real sweet, Thomas, but I’m making these wings for me.” 

He laughed a little and you quickly finished the wing on your left eye. You sighed in relief, liking how sharp it was. You looked at him and smiled, dressed in a silk pink robe. Your hair was already done and styled into a nice updo. 

You weren’t even dressed up yet, and Thomas was simply in love with you. 

“Are they even?” You asked Thomas, coming closer so he could look at both wings. 

He intently looked at both of your eyes, before nodding.

“Yes, baby.” 

“Thank you, love.” You smiled up at him. He smelled really good. You wanted nothing more than to stay home and cuddle up with him, but he was needed elsewhere. “When do we have to leave?” 

“Six.” Thomas wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled you in for a kiss. “Will you be ready by then?” 

“Yes.” You promised and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You let go and went back over to your makeup bag, digging for your mascara. “Remind me, what is this for?” 

“It’s just a little party they do every year. It’s just about the company. Talks about next year’s goal. Celebrates this year’s achievements. Kind of boring.” 

You pouted a little. If Thomas wasn’t excited about it, then you were sure you wouldn’t be excited either. 

“I won’t be with you, will I?” You asked softly, looking at him through the mirror.

“Not very much.” He rubbed your shoulders as he came behind you. “You can go with Dolly though. She’s James’ wife. I told her you were coming tonight so she’s excited to meet you.” 

“Oh, okay.” You said, looking down a little.

“Don’t sound so sad.” He dipped his head down and kissed your shoulder. “You’ll be with me for the rest of the night.” 

“I guess.” You turned around and he had you trapped between the bathroom counter and his body. You rested your hands on his shoulder for a moment, just admiring him. “Well, say hi if you can.” 

He promised he would, then left you alone to finish getting ready.

You finished your makeup by five thirty. You got into your dress and heels at five forty-five. Thomas and you were ready to go by six as planned, dressed to the nines. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and grinned when you saw him. He was casually sitting in one of the armchairs in his living room. Seeing him sitting there, looking so effortless, pulled on your heart strings. You walked over to him slowly, making your presence known by the little clicks of your heels. 

“Mr. Jefferson,” You purred. “You clean up nice.” 

He stood to meet you, a huge smile on his face.

“Why thank you, darling.” He chuckled. He set his hands on your waist before looking you up and down. He let out a low whistle. You laughed a little and he did too. “You look gorgeous. Gonna be the prettiest girl there.”

“Thank you,” You chuckled, but you pouted a little. “I call this look ‘a fake among the wealthy elite.’” 

“Hush.” Thomas glared at you. “You are my date. That’s what’s important. If anyone tries anything or is rude to you, you let me know right away.” He brought your eyes to his. “Promise?” 

His tone was serious. It was the tone you’d heard him use when talking to clients. You knew he met business, so you nodded.


You stepped out of the house and into the garage. He helped you into his Bentley. He pulled out of the driveway and he drove to the venue–a five star hotel with a huge ballroom booked for the night. 

Thomas helped you out of the car after handing his key off to a valet. He took your hand and kissed the back of it sweetly. You squeezed his hand back in return. You felt a little nervous as you stepped closer.

The venue was beautiful. There was plenty of space. One gorgeous diamond chandelier dipped down from the ceiling, filling the room with warm light. The entire room had art deco elements, making you feel like you were transported to another decade. Waiters flitted and fluttered about, trays of champagne and wine in their arms as well as appetizers. 

“I do not belong here.” You whispered under your breath. 

“Darling, you are one of the most impressive women in the room,” He patted your hand. “Half of these women do not have a degree or have never even considered pursing a degree.” He leaned in close. “Don’t let these housewives make you feel insecure.”

You smiled a little, heart warm from his compliment. “I guess I won in that category.” 

“Baby, you win in every category. No more talk of this I don’t fit in here.” He gave you a stern look. “It’s just for a couple hours.” He reassured you. “Have a drink or two. Try to enjoy it.” 

Thomas and you were making your way around the room. You admired the floral arrangements before looking around at the people. Everyone was dressed as nicely as you and Thomas–the men in tuxedos, the women in designer gowns. Thomas kept you close to his side, arms linked together with his hand on top of yours.

“Jemmy!” He called, smiling a little as he spotted James in the crowd. James turned from where he stood and gave Thomas a little smile. Thomas took your hand and walked with you over to where his friend stood.  

Introductions were brief, but you were happy to see James again. On his arm was Dolly Madison, dressed to compliment her husband in a soft ivory dress. 

“Dolly, this is my girlfriend (Y/N).” Thomas said with a smile. You smiled too. “(Y/N), this is Dolly, the better of the Madisons.” 

“I wish I could say how offended I am, but it is entirely true.” James chuckled, looking down at Dolly with pride.

“Damn right.” Dolly grinned, a little twinkle in her eye. “It’s great to meet you, sweetie.”

“You too.” You reciprocated your enthusiasm. You looked at Thomas with a little smirk. “Good luck out there, peacock.” 

He made a disgusted face that made you laugh, before giving you a kiss goodbye. You then turned to Dolly.

“Tell me you’re at least old enough to drink,” Dolly said, taking you by her arm. “That’s the only way we’re going to get through this party.” 

You laughed a little. “Even if I wasn’t, I would have snuck something in my purse.”

She took a liking to you immediately. She practically pulled you away from Thomas and together you sat at your table for the evening. 

“If I’m being honest, James and I usually cast shade the entire time.” Dolly grinned. “He can pull the not feeling well card and we just sit here and talk. Not about the company, but the people. You got all kinds of characters here.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You liked her already.

“Mm, what about her?” You asked, looking at a woman across the room, talking to a wealthy looking man. “Purple dress, ten o’clock.” 

Dolly’s eyes narrowed on the woman you gestured to. She frowned a little, but tried to brush it off. You couldn’t help, but notice the disgusted look on her face. 

“She’s a nobody.” She grumbled, downing the last of her champagne and setting her glass down. She quickly changed the subject. 

“You know you’re the first girl Thomas has brought out to these parties.” Dolly noted, glancing over at you.

“Really?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “I thought Thomas dated a lot of girls before me.”

“Only three, but he never introduced him to his friends.” She paused, eyebrows raised slightly. “You met James before tonight, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“That’s saying a lot. He must think highly of you. James is the tier under meeting his parents.” She smiled fondly, almost pleased with how she phrased her statement. “And I can tell you that you passed the test.” 

“He liked me?” Your eyes widened. “We only talked for a moment.” 

“You, my dear, are classier and much more polite than most of the girls Thomas has dated in the past. Why do you think you’re at such an upscale event?” She squeezed your hand. “And he introduced you as his girlfriend.” She smiled. “That has a lot more meaning than date for the night.”

She had a point. You were flattered.

You had tried to be with Thomas whenever you could, but there were people he had to talk to as the night went on. You stayed with Dolly for most of the night and her company was appreciated. She was a lot louder and more outspoken than her husband, which was refreshing to say the least. The night overall was uneventful, until one moment. 

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, needing to reapply your lipstick. As you walked back over to your table, you bumped into a woman.

“Excuse me,” You said softly, trying to move out of the way.

The woman stopped you, eyed you coldly. You were incredibly confused, but you tried to hide it. You needed to be polite. 

“Seems Thomas has found a new play thing,” The woman sneered, arms crossed over her chest. ‘I bet you’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

You raised your eyebrows out of surprise. You cleared your throat tried to keep your composure. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself or Thomas at such an important event.

“You’d lose that bet.” You snapped back, taking a step closer to her. “We’re very happy together.”

She scoffed, shaking her head a little. “Wouldn’t be so sure. Just mention my name and it’ll all come back to him, sweetie.” 

You glared at her. “You attacking me won’t change the fact that he rejected you and then chose me.” You spat. You took a deep breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

“End of the week.” She called after you, her voice taunting you. You walked a little faster, but her words echoed in your head. 

You went straight for Dolly and didn’t look back. 

“Purple dress.” You growled, setting your clutch down on the table angrily. “Who is she because she stopped me on the way back over.” You finished lowly. 

Dolly pursed her lips together. She debated on whether to tell you or not. She looked down at her empty champagne glass before looking back up at you.

“I see you’ve met Martha.” She said quietly.

Martha was one of Thomas’ exes that hadn’t taken their breakup so nicely. Dolly told you not to worry about it, but you felt like Martha was staring at you from across the room. 

“Is there a reason why Thomas hasn’t told me about her?” You asked softly. 

“I don’t know the whole story. I believe it’s his place to tell you.”

The night was starting to wind down. You and Dolly went to find your partners. You came onto Thomas’ side. You whispered his name and tapped on his shoulder to grab his attention, trying to be mindful of the people he was speaking to. He smiled down at you. He held you close to his side, hand on your waist protectively. By then, he had finished talking to the other men. He focused on you.

“Hey, darling.” He kissed your cheek. “Have a good time?”

You nodded, looking up at him. “Dolly was really, really nice. I’m just ready to go now.”

“Of course. Anybody give you any trouble?”

You hesitated, looking away from him for only a moment. It was still enough so that Thomas knew something was wrong. 

“Who was it? What happened?” He rubbed your back, trying to coax you into speaking up. You bit your lip a little.

“I don’t know if we should do this here.” You whispered. 

“(Y/N), I want you to tell me.” 

You sighed, making eye contact with Dolly who was a few feet away. She gave you a tight smile. You looked back at Thomas.

“There was a woman.” You cleared your throat a little. “Dolly said her name was Martha.”

Thomas frowned at the mention of the woman’s name. He pulled you to the side of the room where it was a little quieter. He gripped your arm tightly and you struggled to keep up with him. He walked a little too fast for you.

“T-Thomas, it’s fine.” You said quietly, feeling his fingers uncurl from around your arm. You let out a little sigh. “She didn’t hurt me or anything. I’m okay.”

“She shouldn’t even be here.” He growled, voice so low that you got chills. “That fucking bitch. Who does she think she is?” 

He continued to mutter angrily under his breath, clearly not listening to you. You waited for him to finish, surprised at how worked up he was getting at the mention of one woman’s name. He finally looked at you. “What did she say to you?”

You looked away and Thomas lifted your eyes to meet his. “(Y/N).”

“That I was just another play thing,” You looked down a little. “That I’d be gone by next week.”

“That’s bullshit. Who are you going to believe? Me or her?” He snapped.

“You. Every time.” You whispered softly, trying to keep Thomas calm. “T-That’s the thing. Thomas, I didn’t believe her.” You cupped his face, running your hands along his stubble. “I trust you, okay?” You said softly. 

You took his hands. “I know it took a lot for you to believe me when I said I really loved you and not your money. I-I trust you about Martha.” 

Thomas took a deep breath. Nodded a little. Eventually, he smiled. You were so understanding, it was refreshing. 

He brought his eyes up to yours and in them, you could see nothing but gratefulness and love.

“My relationship with her was in the past.” He said softly. “It was complicated and I’ll tell you another time all about it. But right now, just know you’re the one I want.” 

You smiled a little, reached up to kiss his cheek. Thomas relaxed at the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

“Anybody else give you trouble?”

“No. That was it.” You pulled him down until your lips were just hovering over his ear. “Do you remember your promise to me?”

Thomas smiled knowingly, snuck an arm around your waist. “Do you remember yours?” He shot back.

You nodded, biting your lip a little as you looked up at him. You stepped closer to him, ran a hand over his chest and reached up to whisper in his ear once more. “Black lace.”

“Damn, baby.” He grinned, letting out a low whistle. “We’ll say goodbye to James and Dolly and then we’ll head out.”

You said goodbye to James and Dolly, hugging Dolly tightly with a little laugh as the other men embraced. They looked happy to see that you got along so well. To Thomas, it was yet another reason why you were perfect for him. As soon as you said your goodbye to James, Thomas grabbed your hand. You and Thomas were practically racing out of the gorgeous venue.

He fumbled to get the front door open, but as soon as he did, he pulled you inside. You squealed as he scooped you up bridal style, holding you close to his chest.

Your lovely dress for the night dropped to the floor. You slipped off the pretty red heels. Thomas had slung his tie off, threw his blazer to the side of the room and sat at the edge of the bed, watching you intently as you undressed.

“Baby?” Thomas stopped you as you started to unbutton his dress pants. You were in front of him on your knees, looking up at him a little confused.

“What’s wrong?” You asked genuinely. You stopped pulling his zipper down.

“Wanna pleasure you for once.” He whispered, bringing you up from your knees. He pulled you onto his lap, wrapped his arms around your waist as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “How do you want it? Tell Daddy what you want.”

You thought for a moment, but you knew what you wanted.

“Slow.” You bit your lip a little nervously. “Show me you love me.”

Thomas smiled, pulled you in for a gentle kiss. “Easy.”

Thomas pushed you back down onto the bed gently, coming in between your legs as you leaned back into the smooth, satin sheets. You looked up at him with a little smile and watched as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He whispered, tossing his shirt to the side. He kissed your neck, gently sucking and nibbling on your open skin as he rubbed his hand along your side. He felt your lace panties underneath his fingertips. Smiled when you blushed. “How damn smart you are too?”

“Y-Yes.” You laughed a little.

“Did I ever tell you that I knew from the start you were the one for me?” He asked you, slowly taking off your stockings. He started with the one on the left, pressed kisses all the way down your thighs and calves as he pulled the black fabric off.

“No.” You whispered, your voice shaking a little.

“That I wanted to call you my princess when I slipped that crown on you?”


“Mm.” Thomas chuckled a little. You watched as his fingers started to pull your other stocking down, the gesture making your heart flutter. He was so sweet, so gentle. 

“Darling, you were different from the beginning. I knew that in my heart.”

You looked up at him as he tossed the soft fabric into the growing pile of clothes.

“Got me under your spell.” He chuckled. “You want the moon and stars? Shit, baby, I’d give them to you.”

You smiled, cupped his face. “Just want you.”

“Keep your legs open for Daddy, okay?” He kissed your cheek. You nodded, pushing them apart. “Good girl.”

He reached down and slipped your panties off, throwing the thin material to the side and gently kissing your thighs.

“D-Daddy,” You whined.

“Relax, sweetie,” He said, leaving more kisses there. “Gonna take care of you.”

He ducked down and licked your clit slowly, taking his sweet time as he sucked and devoured your pussy. You were making the prettiest sounds, only encouraging him to give you more. Eventually, he slowly pushed one finger inside you, pumped in and out. The entire time he left hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, making you whimper.

As he slipped a second finger into you, you pulled him closer, digging your hands through his hair and running your hands over his toned chest. You moaned softly as he continued to work on the budding hickeys on your skin, kissing and suckling at them so there was no doubt that you were his.

“Missed you tonight,” He purred, brushing your hair out of your eyes with one hand while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you with the other. The only sounds in the bedroom were the sounds of his long fingers entering your wet pussy and your ragged breathing. “Looked so pretty … Like a doll.”

You blushed a little as Thomas smiled down at you. He had angled his fingers so you could barely give an answer. Your eyes fluttered as you moved your hips a little. His long fingers pumped in and out of you. He started to curl his fingers and it was enough to make you cry out.

You arched your back and let out a moan, wanton and loud.

“D-Daddy!” You whimpered. “Right there, r-right there, oh God.”

Thomas smirked before pushing his fingers in the same place. This time a little harder and a little faster.

“Right here, baby girl?” He teased, driving into the spot.

You weakly nodded. The pleasure was so sweet, so natural, so perfect. You gently bit your lower lip and shut your eyes as you rocked back and forth on his fingers, bucking your hips a little.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned out. “There!”

“Do you need to cum soon?” Thomas asked you, watching your body language. You started to play with your nipples, trying to get more stimulation. You looked so desperate, so hot, so needy. You looked gorgeous with one hand in your hair, your loose curls floating around your face.

“Make sure to tell me, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whispered, moving your hips to meet his fingers. Any other time, Thomas would have forced you in place, would have made you wait, but tonight it was about you. He was more than happy to give you what you wanted.

“Gonna do one more finger.” He whispered, then kissed your shoulder. “Relax, sweetie.” He cooed, slipping one more long finger into your dripping folds.

You cried out as he pumped into you even faster. You felt your orgasm growing as he simultaneously rubbed your clit or licked your pussy. Thomas was set on giving you maximum pleasure tonight. From the sounds of it, he was succeeding.

You whimpered, trying to control your breathing enough to speak. You were dripping wet and you could hear it when Thomas pushed his fingers in and out of you. You felt your head spinning, felt yourself sinking further into the mattress.

You were helpless to his touch. Your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, your body was warm with pleasure, and it all felt so good.

“D-Daddy?” You whispered, reaching out to hold onto him somehow. A hand in his hair was enough. Just needed him close. Needed to know he was there.

“Yes, baby girl?” He purred, kissing your clit and blowing on it gently. You shuddered, arching your back a little more so your hips met his glorious mouth.

“Need to cum.” You breathed out.

You looked down at him so desperately, eyes wide yet sweet, hair no longer needed its gorgeous updo, but coming apart as you laid back on the sheets.

Thomas couldn’t deny you. You looked stunning.

“Go ahead.” He said softly, pumping his fingers in and out of you as quickly as he could, trying to help you over the edge. “That’s it. Let it go, baby.”

You felt your back arch and your hips buck slightly. Your breathing grew ragged as you let out a long moan–desperate and needy yet pliant and grateful.

Your chest still rose and fell erratically as you came down from your high. Your toes curled and uncurled and a smile was on your face as you felt Thomas lick you clean. You felt yourself melt further into the sheets. This orgasm had you seeing stars.

He gave you a kiss on the lips, giving you a chance to taste yourself. You hummed in satisfaction and couldn’t deny how wet you became at the sight of him licking a finger clean, and then giving you another.

As your tongue swirled around his finger, you kept your eyes on him. He smirked as you freed it, soft lips uncurling from around his index finger.

“Taste so sweet.” He hummed thoughtfully, kissing your cheek softly. His lips hovered over your ear and you shivered. “What else can I do for my sweet girl?”

You swallowed. You got a little nervous at how intently he looked at you. A faint blush filled your cheeks.

“We’ve done this before,” Thomas pointed out, pumping his hard cock as he sat back on his heels. He looked at you curiously, brown eyes locked with yours, with a gorgeous intensity that reminded you that you were the one person on his mind right now. “What’s got you feeling so shy?”

“This time you love me.” You whispered, eyes glittering as you looked up at Thomas.

Thomas’ eyes softened. Here you were. The girl he had been looking for all along, looking nothing short of picturesque in this moment. He’d had you in this bed time after time again, but now, he saw you in a whole new light. He saw you as his.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed. “I’ve loved you from the beginning.”

Soft gentle kisses, breathy moans, desperate cries, slow thrusts. Every other time you’d been with Thomas it was rough kisses, loud moans, fast thrusts. It was about getting what both of you needed as quickly as you could get it. But this time -

You felt your toes curl. A second orgasm washed over you. It made you feel like you were floating and you moaned. You arched your back and pulled Thomas close, pulling him into a kiss as you rode out your orgasm.

Thomas pulled out. He kissed the back of your hand before kissing your wrist and making his way up your arm. You smiled at him lazily, head still feeling like it was in a fog. You were still in a little daze by the time he got to your temple.

He pumped his cock lazily until white painted his hand. Some of his cum leaked onto your stomach. He reached on the bedside table for a cloth, gently wiped up the little mess. He looked over you. Your eyes were still closed. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly.

“Hey, love.” He whispered. “Feel okay?”

You blinked up at him, pupils blown from the intensity of your orgasms. You had that spaced out look in your eye, but you managed a little nod. Thomas tossed the cloth to the side and came down in between your legs. He kissed you softly as he held both of your hands.

You were still underneath him. He held you tight enough so you knew he was there, but never to the point where you felt like you were suffocating.

Sheer bliss filled both of your hearts as you looked at one another. Two hearts intertwined. Two souls connected.

“I love you, Thomas.” You whispered, biting your lip a little nervously.

“I love you too, baby.” Thomas whispered back, kissing your forehead.

Your smile widened a little more and you managed to sneak a quick kiss on the lips. You slowly closed your eyes, happy and content and warm. Thomas came onto your side and pulled you close to his chest. He pulled the comforter over your naked bodies when he saw how tired you were and gave you one more kiss on the head.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to fall asleep and you weren’t sure when you first woke up. It felt like you were still dreaming.

The satin sheets were soft against your skin; the comforter warm as it enveloped you. You groggily opened your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them.

Thomas was on his phone when you woke up, lazily running his free hand through your hair. He felt you stir and looked down at you.

“Hi, darling.” He whispered. “Sleep okay?”

You nodded, sunk further into the pillows around you. Your fingers went for the red velvet one. You curled up around it and held it close to your chest. Thomas chuckled.

“If you wanted to cuddle, why didn’t you say so?”

“You looked busy.” You whispered, closing your eyes and pouting a little as you clutched the pillow a little tighter.

“Never too busy for you.”

You smiled a little before coming closer to Thomas. He tucked you under his arm. You rested your head on his chest, feeling your whole body relax as he held you.

“Need a shower.” You mumbled after a while. Thomas chuckled, kissed your head. “You are more than welcome to join me, Mr. Jefferson.”

He does. There’s no quickie, just warm water and soap on your two bodies. Gentle kisses. You wash each other. He washes your back; you wash his. It’s sensual and sweet. Your fingers run over his broad chest and over his shoulders in the midst of the little space. He looks like a dream. Your dream.

He smiles as he notices your hickey from last night. Before you can get out of the shower, he places another hickey on your neck. You weakly protest, but Thomas has you pinned against the shower wall. Maybe it’s Thomas’ lips or the hot steam form the shower, but you sink into his touch, relaxing completely.

You’re back in his clothes. You wear a big t-shirt and panties. You steal a pair of socks from his drawers. You slip them on. You take off your makeup from last night. He calls you beautiful and carries you downstairs.

He’s still shirtless. You don’t mind it one bit.

Peggy calls you. You’re sitting in Thomas’ lap, straddling him as you rest your head on his chest. You sound happy. She smiles.

You don’t know when you’ll leave Thomas’ place. He tells you you can stay as long as you want. You’re tempted to. 

There’s something about waking up next to him that always leaves you wanting more.

anonymous asked:

Ooo!! Could you please do number 29? Maybe something about Even getting pissed off cause Isak said something about him smoking or drinking? Thank you so much!

Hiya anon! I’m not sure this is exactly what you meant, but I hope you like it 

Isak didn’t like Even. Which was convenient because Even hated Isak.

It hadn’t started of like that. Even had been enamoured and curious about the boy after hearing his co-worker-turned-friend, Jonas, talk about Isak all the time.

The first time Isak came into the coffeeshop, Even’s heart had skipped several beats. He had stuttered his way through Isak ordering his coffee and the shy smile Isak had shot him had set his heart aflame.

Jonas had laughed when Even asked him whether Isak was single.

“Come to the party,” Jonas had said.

Even hadn’t been this nervous to go to a party in forever. He bribed his friends to come with him and they had lovingly teased him about his crush.

It had been fun and loving and Even felt like this could be the start of something wonderful.

And then everything went to shit.

They had been sitting outside, Even and Isak sharing secret smiles, when Jonas pulled out a joint.

“Anyone wants to share?” he had asked.

Even’s friends had bowed out, they didn’t smoke. Even, however, had debated accepting the offer. It fucked with his medication, but maybe if he got a bit more mellow, he would dare to talk to Isak.

Mikael had looked at him, frown on his face, and Even had sighed, about to tell Jonas no when Isak spoke up.

“Don’t offer weed to him, Jonas, it’s not good for him.”

Even had whipped his head around, eyes zeroing in on Isak.

Isak wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead having a silent conversation with Jonas.

Rationally, Even knew he shouldn’t make a big deal of it, but Isak’s meddling reminded him of Sonja, of his parents, of everyone in his life always making his decisions for him.

So, it came out much more spiteful when he said, “Thank you for making up my mind for me.”

Isak’s eyes grew big as saucers, taken aback by the aggression in Even’s voice.

“Dude,” Elias whispered, shaking his head.

Even had taken the joint and inhaled deeply, keeping eye contact with Isak.

Isak had just rolled his eyes, “Fine, whatever,” he said, before getting up and leaving.

Later, Even had seen him wrapped another boy, and he had tried to ignore the stab to his heart, instead focusing on the annoyance he still felt.

It had gotten from bad to worse since then, them only sharing a few harsh words, trying to ignore them best as they could, which only got harder as their friend groups started mingling and becoming one.

Even now had to see Isak at least once a week, and he hated it.

Except he also couldn’t help but see how good Isak was. How he subtly tried to let Mikeal know it was okay to be in love with Adam. How his face softened and he spoke gentle words on the phone with his mother. How he teased his friends mercilessly, but stood up from them without questions asked. How he loved, deeply.

And sometimes Even couldn’t help but laugh with Isak’s quick wit. Smile, when Isak got drunk and convinced he could rap.

He couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when Isak started talking about science, defending his passion, laying out his genius.

“You’re in love with him,” Adam said, blunt as ever.

Even would point out how hypocritical he was being, except he wasn’t a dick (no matter what Isak thought of him).

“That’s bullshit, I hate him,” he said.

Mutta scoffed, “Yeah, like Yousef hates Sana.”

Yousef made an indignant sound before, “He’s kinda right, yeah.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Even said, refraining from stomping his foot like a petulant child.

“If it’s any consolation, he’s also in love with you,” Elias said, grinning when Even turned to him, too fast to pretend he wasn’t interested in that bit of information, “Sana told me.”

If Sana said so, it must be true, Even guessed.

He went home that night, thinking of what his friends had said. Was he in love with Isak?

Even couldn’t deny how most of his thoughts were about the younger boy, and maybe he had to admit that most of those thoughts weren’t really negative.

Was it love to be thinking about the boy’s eyes? His cupid bow, and adorable teeth behind it. His curls catching the sunlight and making him look like an angel. His hands as he explained something. His smirk when he caught Even looking. His long legs. His lithe body, stronger than anyone would give him credit for.

“Shit,” Even breathed in the dark of his room, he was in love.

He clicked on the light next to his bed and pulled out his notebook and a pencil.

Even’s ten (eleven) step plan to getting the most beautiful boy on earth, Isak (back)

1.    Stop being a dick

2.    Bring him coffee

3.    Compliment his ass brains

4.    Laugh at his jokes

5.    Talk to him like a normal human being (whatever that is)

6.    Spend time with him alone

7.    Get him to watch movies with you

8.    Tell him about your feelings

9.    Kiss him

10.  Date him

11.  Marry him

He re-read his list and scoffed at himself.

“This is stupid,” he mumbled before turning the light back off and going to sleep.

Over the next couple of days, he set in motion step one and two. He didn’t make any snide remarks, made a cup of coffee when he made coffee for the others and tried to smile at Isak.

Isak, in turn, only raised his eyebrows at Even, confusion plain on his face.

One night Isak is tipsy and telling their friends about one of his patients and Even tells him he’s really smart.

Isak looks at him, eyes wide, pupils blown.

And Even is screwed, the want screaming in his head.

He’s even more screwed when he sees Isak leaving with someone else that night.

“Tell him how you feel,” Jonas says, appearing out of nowhere.

Even would ask how he knew he was harbouring feelings for Isak, but the pining from across the room for an entire night, might’ve given him away completely.

“There’s a list, with steps, Jonas… A list!” Even exclaims

Jonas just raises his eyebrows, “Whatever you say, dude. Just don’t wait too long, you’re not the only one with eyes.”

Jonas’ words haunt Even for the next couple of days. He re-reads his list a hundred times, struck with the stupidity of it, but unable to do anything about it.

Until fate takes matters into her own hands.

They are pre-partying at Mikael’s apartment. Both Isak and Even are refraining from drinking. The first because he’s on call at the hospital, the second for multiple reasons, his meds, his friends, Isak…

When the doorbell rings, Isak stands up to pay for the pizza.

“Get the money out of my wallet,” Even says, “It’s my turn to pay. My wallet is in my coat pocket, you can just take it out.”

Isak nods, a little less fazed by Even’s friendliness.

It’s when Even stretches to take his glass of coke when he realises his wallet is on him. The thing in his coat pocket, however, is his notebook, turned open to the list.

Isak enters the living room, pizza in hand, blush high on his cheekbones.

“Can we talk?” he whispers to Even as their friends attack the pizza.

Even nods, fear low in the pit on his stomach.

“I found your list,” Isak says, as the door to Mikael’s bedroom closes behind them.

“Shit, I’m sorry-“

“I’d like to skip to step nine and ten,” Isak says, soft smile on his lips.

Even’s heart stutters, “Really?”


“Isak,” Even breathes, before surging forward and capturing Isak’s lips in a kiss.

Isak smiles into the kiss.

Later, they will talk about what had happened so many months ago. Isak will apologize for meddling in Even’s business, Even will apologize for letting his past experiences cloud his judgement.

Later, Isak will tease Even for step eleven.

Much later, Even will ask Isak if it’s time for step eleven. Isak will say yes.

Now, they kiss until their friends catcall them from behind the door.

Now, Isak slips his hands under Even’s shirt.

Now, Even whispers Isak’s name over and over.

Now is good

‘Crafter tools: Napkins

Do you know what is a free thing, given away in stacks at pretty much any fast food joint that breakdown in water? 

That’s right - Napkins

These things are the best for a variety of reasons. Creating a new dry spell recipe and don’t want to waste a jar or fancy satchel for testing? Use a napkin. Want to test some fast acting sigils on something dissolvable and easily destroyed? Napkins. Want some paper poppets or hex papers? Napkins. 

Want to make a hard curse action item that is given to who ever uses said item? NAPKINS. 

You can substitute toilet paper or paper towels should you desire, but honestly just go into your nearest mcdonalds, order a dollar ice tea and take a stack of napkins out of the dispenser next to the ketchup. 

Minimum wage employees do not get paid enough to give a fuck that you took a freely offered item. Just don’t take the whole dispenser out the door, that might raise some eyebrows. 

.:Poppet napkin Bad Luck Poke jinx:. 

You will need: 

  • Napkin
  • Scissors
  • Pen
  • Lemon juice or vinegar
  • A needle

Step one: Unfold napkin so that it is a single layer of paper. Using scissors carefully cut out the shape of a person. This is going to represent the person your jinxing. 

Step two: Write the name of the person onto the poppet. Keep this persons image in your mind as you write. 

Step three: Impose that image in your mind onto the poppet. That paper napkin person is now that dudebro that constantly hits on you at work. Put all of your feelings that person rises in you into that napkin. That thing IS that person. 

Step four: Place poppet in a container that can hold liquids. Dollar store Tupperware is a good for these quick karma hits. 

Step five: Add lemon or vinegar to poppet. This is a sour energy, attracting bad luck and smacking a person in the face with unpleasantness. A few drops to the poppets hand will focus the bad luck into that location, or you can cover completely to infect the whole aura of a person. 

Step six: Poke poppet with the needle. Several times. The needle is poking holes into a persons natural defenses, making it easier for the spell to seep in and take effect faster. 

Step seven: Let everything sit for a bit. The longer the poppet is ‘alive’ the longer the spell will last. If you wait about 15 minutes the jinx itself should last long enough to hit the person with at least one good smack of bad luck. Leave the poppet in lemon for two hours and the person could end up with a good weeks worth of unfortunate events. 

Step eight: Discard poppet and clean up area. Discard either in garbage can outside or flush down toilet. Remember that poppet is still that person, when you destroy it you are representing what you want to happen. 

Step nine: Take a deep breath and let all those negative emotions leave you. You are strong and capable. You just fought back. Remember, its okay to be alright with wanting someone to get what they deserve in life. 

Note: Jinx’s are a temporary spell, usually used as a one time slap. If you want to push this spell into a full hex or curse that’s up to you to craft it out. 


Another Revenge Spell

Fair Warning!!! Only use this spell if someone has truly done you wrong and caused you much pain.

To cast this spell write the person’s name on a 3″ x3″ piece of paper with a black marker or pen. Also have a piece of black yarn.

Concentrate on that person. Now draw 3 X’s on that person’s name.

Next fold the paper three times and take the black yarn and tie the paper with it. Raise it above your head and whisper the words below three times:

“Starting now I will
be protected from you,
This magic spell I will do,
With this spell I shall bind thee,
From now on you will let me be,
I as of now am protected from your harm,
I seal this hex with my charm.
It is you that will suffer and cry out in pain
It is you that will suffer and write in pain”.

Now drop the paper to the ground and using your right shoe step on the paper nine times As you slam it the ninth time say…

“From this moment pain you shall feel
I have spoken these words,
words that are real
I have spoken these words and
so mote it be!”


Douglas Hensley, A Book Of Magic Spells And Hexes

Posted by, Phynxrizng

Elementary Stills : 221b // Step Nine

Two hundred and twenty one b is my original sanctum sanctorum. It is the only aspect of my life in London I truly missed…two hundred and twenty one b is a good deal more than nice Watson. I spent the better part of ten years transforming it into a virtual womb of creativity, stepping inside it is not unlike stepping inside my very own brain. You will no doubt see things that will confuse or even upset you, odd experiments, texts in dead languages, trophies from old cases.

The “Silent Raid”

A crowd gathers around the captured L49 in France.

October 19 1917, London–The British had gotten much better at shooting down German Zeppelins, and the Germans had to resort to new tactics to avoid the British defenses.  Eleven Zeppelins crossed the North Sea on October 19, arriving after sundown.  They rose to a height of over 21,000 feet to avoid British fighters and anti-aircraft guns.  Unfortunately for them, winds were much higher at that altitude, blowing up to 60 miles an hour, and the fleet was scattered and sent off course. The crews were also not used to operating at such an altitude, and the lack of oxygen hampered the crews’ abilities.

Only one of the eleven Zeppelins, L45, actually bombed London, causing 83 of the 91 casualties from the raid, mostly around Piccadilly Circus.  The British defenses did not fire on the Zeppelin, possibly because they did not see it through the mist, or because they knew they could not possibly hit it at that altitude and did not want to give the Zeppelin any clues as to its location.  As a result, the raid would be known as the “Silent Raid” in Britain.

The Zeppelins were scattered over Britain, and struggled to make their way back home to Germany.  Four of them made it back with little incident, returning over the North Sea, Belgium, or the Netherlands.  The remainder were blown over Northern France, almost paralleling the Western Front in places.  L55 seemed to realize it was heading to far south, as it was approaching Paris, and made a hard turn to the left; they made it back to Germany, but crashed on landing.  L52 and L53 only reentered German airspace permanently over Alsace-Lorraine.  L44 was destroyed by French anti-aircraft fire over Lorraine at an altitude of 19,000 feet, killing all aboard.  L49, attacked by French fighters, was forced to the ground and captured intact by the French north of Besançon.

L45, which had bombed London, was blown far to the south and eventually ran out of fuel, made a rough landing in Provence; the crew burned their craft and surrendered to local authorities.  L50, quite lost, thought they were in luck when they saw L49 landed below.  They soon realized that the French had captured her, and tried to rise as quickly as possible, before attempting to land again in an extremely steep dive of around 30 degrees.  The Zeppelin grazed some woods, shearing off the main gondola; most of the men on board were thrown off or took the opportunity to jump off at this point; they were soon captured by the French.  Without the main gondola, the Zeppelin was propelled upwards again.  Of the four men left on board, two were thought to have been killed in the crash, but the other two were likely left trapped on an uncontrollable airship drifting southward.  They passed over the captured crew of the L45 in southern France, sporadically pestered by French fighters.  At 5:30PM, the Zeppelin drifted out to sea and was never seen again.

Today in 1916: Penultimate Sortie of the High Seas Fleet
Today in 1915: “The Thirty-Nine Steps” Published
Today in 1914:  German Fourth Army Attacks at Ypres

Sources include: Randal Gray, Chronicle of the First World War; Arthur Banks, Atlas of the First World War.

1: june 3rd

“That was rude, Jess. I’m hurt.” He covers his heart with both hands, holding onto his peck through his tank top tightly. “I was going to invite you inside but I’m rethinking it now.”

“It is what it is.” Jessica shrugs like the excitement she felt fluttering in her stomach didn’t just churn into a tiny panic. “It’s not like I particularly wanted to watch you play Xbox anyway.”

“I had something else in mind.”

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Slightly dodgy kettle stitch/coptic binding sketchbook making tutorial!

Nobody ever said that your sketchbook binding had to be neat. Well, they might have done, but not in my hearing. So here’s a slightly dodgy, but really not too difficult sketchbook making tutorial. In it, you’ll learn how to cobble together a sketchbook like the one above in pretty short time using a messy version of kettle stitch/coptic binding! 

Tutorial after the break! 

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I said I’d write up a tutorial on how to make these wings. It’ll be terrible So, here goes. XD

Have one or two friends to help you out. It’s easier with more hands.


Thin poster board. (For small wings you will need 3 pieces. For wings like this you will need 6)

Opal cellophane. (two rolls to be safe)

Adhesive glue.


Wire cutters.

Exacto knife. (I recommended using this for cutting out the poster board)

Hot glue gun.

3 Hanger wires (it’s super sturdy)

Pencil, and eraser.



Step one:

Find a reference photo! These wings are meant for a Periwinkle cosplay but since her and Tinkerbell have the same wings we used Tink as a reference.

Step Two:

Since we made our wings super large we had to glue two pieces of poster board together. This is why I said 6 pieces for large wings. Reason why is because of their size just one piece would make it droop. So before drawing the design on you spray one piece with adhesive and put the other piece on top of it. Making it as even as possible.

If you’re making smaller wings just go to step three!

Step Three:

Draw your design on the poster board. We drew ours on from corner to corner (diagonally) If you want smaller wings I recommend drawing it from corner to the the middle of the board.

Step four:

This is the most tedious of all the steps to making wings. Take your exact o knife and start cutting. You cut around the design but make sure to cut half an inch away from the line. You can go back later to make it thinner if you want. Using one poster board will take less time then two since it isn’t as thick.

Make sure there is something underneath the board so you don’t damage your floor.

Step Five: (not necessary but who says no to glitter)

We’re obsessed with glitter. So naturally we coated both sides of the design with white glitter. We used adhesive for this as well.

Step Six: (Smaller wings don’t need this but if you want to add it then go ahead!)

Take your wire hanger and bend it out so it’s the same shape of the wing that will be the closest to your back. Glue the wire down about 7 inches down from the tip of the wing. Most of the support is needed in the middle, and bottom of the wing.

Let some of the wire hang out of the bottom about four inches so you can connect the harness.

Step Seven

Roll out the cellophane to go over the wings. One piece for each side. Spray adhesive to the wing first and then gently place the cellophane over it. I recommend having someone help you with this part because adhesive is a pain when something goes wrong.

Do this for both the big wing, and the smaller one. Make sure the cellophane is over the wing evenly. Pat out any bubbles it may have.

Step Eight:

When both sides have cellophane on it take your iron and make sure it’s on a low setting. You don’t want it to burn or melt the cellophane. Gently go over the wing, and even it out as much as possible. There will be some bubbles, and such but think of it being more realistic.

Step Nine:

Cut off any excessive cellophane but leave some near the veins and by the wire. If it’s to short the cellophane will come apart. We left little less then half an inch.

Step Nine:

Take the adhesive to glue the little wing to the bigger one. You want to make sure you glue it on the inside.

Step Ten:

Use another wire hanger and bend it into a rectangle. Wire hanger is tough to bend so you’re going to have to use your inner strength. Cut off any excess wire with a wire cutter. Cover it with electrical tape so it becomes sturdier.

Step Eleven:

Line up the wing wire with the harness wire at the spot where it’s needed. Take the wing and connect it to the harness. Using electrical tape to keep the two of them together. Cut off an excess wire so it doesn’t dig into the wearers back.

Alas you have fairy wings!! I hope this helps a bit T-T Have fun!

Tip: You may have to cut a slit in the back of your outfit for the wings to slip into. Wearing a bra helps because it goes underneath it.