#adding another thing to the list of drawings never to be finished

[zolass]

Sharing A Bed

Bottom Male Reader (?) x Top Male Oc

It's been a hot minute since I posted like an actual lil piece I've been so focused on reading Manhwas and drawing because I simply enjoy it and I burned out with writing.

This is more of a thanks for sticking around and a welcome to the new followers <3 I also see the requests but I don't want to really ruin a good request by half assed writing from my part. I see y'all so don't feel discouraged by my silence I appreciate you guys!

Also for this one, it's just some fluff and it's not meant to be long, but I would definitely revisit Cecil again in the future just like some of ppl's fav's (from comments and req's) and fyi I never went to college or plan to- so idfk how it works and I only use the knowledge I have from literally reading. And idk if there's some trauma to the bed behavior that this is build upon, if so I'm sorry it wasn't intentional. The lil quirk suddenly popped up in my head so yea.

There's probably typos that I'm too lazy to fix

(I thought abt adding Tags but I'm so clueless ngl) but I can tag one person and one person only: @carnalcrows

tw: none (?)

1k words

Sharing a bed wasn’t really something you had on your ‘bucket-list’ even if it was almost an everyday situation for a lot of people. Except for you, even as a child when a nightmare plagued you – your parents only allowed to sit next to your bed.

You loved your parents and they loved you and still do. So they always respected your wishes when it came to small things like this. Nobody knew exactly why the uncomfortable squirm and visage you would pull whenever the topic ‘sharing a bed’ came up.

Sleep overs with friends. You slept alone even if it was on the ground with your blanket and pillow.

A school trip, bunkbeds but if there was even the slightest hint of having to share the small space with another classmate? You rather slept on an airmattress and gave them the bed.

Everyone questioned at first, even you did – whispers and odd looks, but after some time people accepted that about you. Saying it was a little quirk of yours. It wasn’t like you hated any physical contact, no you were alright with hugs, handshakes and these sorts of things you normally encounter during your life and friendgroups.

Then college came around, your life opened up another path as you wanted to finish a major before you would travel around – just as compromised with your parents.

First college and then the fun.

Living your campus live in a dorm was – interesting for you but you managed until your last year when there was suddenly a change. You got a new dorm and roommate, that was the first time you saw him. Lazing on his bed, on the left side of the dorm, phone in hand and only sweats in the damned heat of summer.

Your eyes met, while giving each other a simple greeting and then both of you went to do your own stuff. Of course you found out what his name was, after you introduced yourself to each other, after you finished your side of the dorm.

Cecil Vicente.

That day was the beginning of where you found a new friend, a talker and listener but also comfort. Despite the different interests in a lot of things, as time passed Cecil hovered around you more and more, except even your roommate wasn’t allowed to sit on your bed.

Summer passed and autumn quickly followed.

Winter hit, with a drop in temperature and a sudden fall of snow over night, turning everything into a powdery white dream. Cecil and you spent still a lot of time together even after so many months and it did spark happiness inside of you that Cecil still spared so much time to care for your friendship, despite the other male being rather popular around campus.

The weekend came around quickly, with you laying in bed as the sun dipped behind the horizon, “Hey Y/n,” your eyes focused on the brunette standing by the entrance door. “Are you sure you don’t want to join?” tapping your pen on the wooden desk, you first didn’t find your voice, shaking your head before adding a polite “no thanks,” and a smile.

Cecil threw you a smile back, “If you need something, just call me and I’ll come as fast as I can,” were his last words before he stepped out of the door, towards a gathering or rather college party. This was another thing you weren’t hyped about.

Slowly hours passed by and you found yourself in your bed, comfortable in simple pajama pants. The sky has turned dark while snow fell, your eyes were focused on the rather large window between the two beds, which showed the light of the city and the snow falling.

Blanket pulled up to rest just below your collarbone, with your feet tucked between the last bit of the blanket, while the drowsiness slowly kicked in. Just as you were to fall asleep, the door to your dorm opened and someone stumbled in.

Of course you knew who that someone was, but you decided to make a comment as Cecil quickly picked up that he was rather loud for this time and continued his doings more quietly. Shoes were placed by the entrance followed by the jacket and soon the rustling of clothes was heard in the rather silent dorm.

Your eyes closed again and you snuggled yourself into the warmth of your blanket, which then was suddenly ripped from your hands and lifted. Eyes flying open, you stared into the person hovering over you.

Through the light that came in through the window, you could make out the slight furrow of Cecil’s brows. Before you could ask what was wrong, said male suddenly dropped onto your bed – his larger body covering half of yours, with his face sinking into your nape and an arm thrown over your waist.

It happened rather fast – without notice or warning.

Your mouth fell open, and closed like a fish as you tried to find your voice, “Wha-” your voice was higher pitched, but Cecil cut you off, “Just this once – please,” he pleaded softly against your ear, his hot breath caressing your ear.

But in the end your shoulders slumped, while your free hand nervously wrapped around Cecil’s forearm that laid over you. It was the first time you shared a bed and your heart was pounding erratically in your chest. Despite this you didn’t feel uncomfortable which surprised you.

Listening in to the evened breathing of Cecil, you were rather unsure of moving so you laid rather stiff in your own bed, before you closed your eyes and fell asleep soon after, with warm and heavy feeling of Cecil by your side.

Without knowing that the same man noticed your body relax as you fell asleep in his embrace. Making a small smile form on his lips, while his own heart started to beat faster with your warm breath brushing against his own skin.

“Please let this night never end.”

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

part 1

summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first

word count: ~8k

a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love

also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!

if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

part 2

You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 

Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 

And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 

The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 

It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 

So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 

www.seeking.com

It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 

Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 

One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 

ellie: meet me at 8 <3 

When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.

You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 

“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 

So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 

The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 

She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 

And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 

Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 

You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 

The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 

You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 

You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 

Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 

Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.

Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 

And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 

Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 

She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 

You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 

“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”

You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 

Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”

You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 

But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 

That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 

You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 

In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 

“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 

“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 

“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 

Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 

When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 

You nearly choked on a gasp. 

The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 

The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 

The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 

You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 

You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 

Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 

You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 

When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 

She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 

You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.

Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.

As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 

You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 

“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 

Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 

Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 

When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 

But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 

After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 

You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”

Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 

Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 

“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 

“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 

Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 

She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 

When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 

Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 

You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 

You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.

When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 

Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 

“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 

You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 

“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 

The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 

Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 

Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 

The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 

“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 

“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”

“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.

You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 

Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 

You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 

After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”

Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 

In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 

All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 

“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 

“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 

The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 

“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 

“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 

Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”

You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 

“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 

“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”

“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 

“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 

Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 

Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 

You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”

Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”

You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 

Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 

“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 

Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 

Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”

It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 

“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 

And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 

You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 

Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”

You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 

You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 

When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 

“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 

You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 

Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 

Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 

Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 

And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 

As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 

The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 

The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 

As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 

You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 

“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 

And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 

She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 

“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 

Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 

You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 

“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 

Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 

You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 

“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 

You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”

”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 

“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 

“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 

You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 

Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 

And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 

Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 

Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 

Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 

Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 

Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 

Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 

You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 

But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 

You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 

“Guess I’m just lucky.” 

Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 

“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 

You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 

With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 

You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 

Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 

It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 

It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 

She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 

You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound

[blood-smiles]

Hi! I just read your yan!Doll x reader and I was wondering if you were willing to elaborate or make little headcannons of the like of how living together with him is?

If your asks aren't open right or your just Tired feel free to ignore! :D

And could I become an anon? since I believe I'll be staying on this block for a while

And if I were allowed to become an anon could I be 🍰 anon?

HIIII :33 it would be my honor to elaborate!!!!! And congrats for being my first anon! <3 adding 🍰 anon to my list rn c: it’s a bit long so I apologize

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo first and foremost is like a tattoo, once you get it there is no way to remove it permanently, that’s basically what life with him is.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will wake up, fresh faced and motivated again for another day with you, he wakes up like a literal princess, not the slightest sign of eye bags or even morning pimples, his hair perfect and tidy, well.. He is a doll.

꩜ .ᐟ He always manages to get up before you, by the time you wake up a sweet aroma of food would waft into your nose, what was he? Fucking Gordon Ramsay?

꩜ .ᐟ he will always add a special nutrition to your food! He never tells you to though.. Whenever you ask he just gets red in the face and slightly sweaty before dodging the question.. sigh.

“Oh. Well, It’s just my.. haha.. Eat up, darling! I made this food with all my love~!”

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s food always has a slightly salty taste, not enough to ruin your meal, but it would be better if it didn’t have it.

꩜ .ᐟ You spend the rest of your time doing whatever you wish, playing PS4, drawing, crocheting, you name it—Angelo will be there to ‘supervise’ you activities, supervise meaning stare at you for hours on end without blinking.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo who always has to stop himself from punching a hole into your TV or incinerating your possessions, he hates when your attention isn’t on him, he lives off your attention, praise and degradation.. So what does he do to fix it?

꩜ .ᐟ who you see raging from the corner of your eye, his usually pitch black eyes glinting with red.

“Angelo, is something wrong?”

“no! How about you take a break from.. That, and we cuddle for a little? Does that sound good?”

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s jealousy can be dangerous if you trigger it, he will leave for a little with his doll, before coming back with crimson blotches on his white attire.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will make your possessions disappear, they always appear again after a bit of time, they will have strange stains on them though, you always put them to wash though, god knows what he does with your blanket of all things.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will sit and stare at himself in the mirror, it’s strange and unsettling, it gives you the heebie jeebies but you never say anything, he almost seems dissatisfied while he looks at himself in the mirror.

꩜ .ᐟ he wants nothing more but for you to bite his skin and leave deep bruises on his almost Snow White skin.. He is just too shy to say anything though, demons bond in that way, bites is claiming possession over each other, he knows you are human and don’t follow along but.. The thought just makes him so excited!

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo finishes his day by making out with you, allowing your tongue to shove itself into his mouth, saliva binding the both of you in a passionate session.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo watches as you use your tooth brush, he licks his lips, thinking of what he could do with that tooth brush..

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo sleeps in your clothing, the thing he adores most, your scent entering his nostrils, he likes to put you under his shirt, so he can feel your warm skin against his cold skin.

꩜ .ᐟ Angelo kisses your head while you are asleep, wrapping his legs around you and resting his cheek against your forehead.

꩜ .ᐟ He will sometimes cry out of happiness to be here with you, he will cry out of love, his eyes will become swollen, his lips red from biting them, his heart beats solely for you, he went as far to carve your name into his heart’s flesh.

[makereadgrow]

The Why of Sewing 4: How to Avoid Scammy Patterns

As your sewing skills progress beyond following straight lines on fabric you are going to want to start looking for patterns to make your dream outfits a reality. 

There are a lot of bad patterns out there, both in the AI generated flavor and in the more mundane human incompetence flavor. This guide is mostly going to focus on avoiding AI, but generally these tips will also weed out the worst of the ones poorly drafted by humans as well. Generally Etsy seems like the natural place to find indie drafted patterns, and while there are many designers posting their patterns on etsy who are legitimate, the market is FLOODED by scams at the moment. Beware of the Etsy sewing pattern. These are all things you should be able to spot BEFORE making the purchase. A later post can go into ways to figure out if it is you or the pattern causing issues.

Let's Lead with Positive Green Flags:

Multiple images of the model and garment where it is clearly the same person and garment from different angles. Many smaller indie companies are modeled by the designer, or just a couple models. The most important part is seeing multiple angles of the garment.

Line drawings that match the style lines of the sample garment.

Social media presence for the shop off of etsy. This is VERY important. All the big indie companies are on insta and make tags for their patterns (even though tags are broken). Instagram has been where the sewing community has lived for the most part and it is still pretty dang important now. 

The pattern should always have size charts, yardage charts, fabric recommendations, and notion lists available for review without purchasing the pattern. Never ever buy a pattern where you can’t see the size chart before buying. 

Cohesive design across the shop. It doesn’t have to be good design or interesting design, but it should look like the same person made the listing. 

Fat Models - this is a big green flag, but it feels slightly weird to say as a hot tip to look for. AI is really bad at making images of fat people and scammers rarely care enough to do so. This is also a green flag for inclusive sizing. 

Red Flags to watch for:

Headless models and stolen images - this is becoming less common as AI generated “samples” are taking over, but a quick reverse image search is a good idea. Some indie designers do prefer not to post their faces, but you can usually still tell that you are looking at the same person. 

Only front view images, or any single angle photo. 

A different model in every photo - this can be seen in well established indie companies who use lots of testing pools, but those tend to look very human and not the kind of human who earns their living with their appearance. Images of lots of models in sharp focus with an extremely blurry background. No human skin texture is a red flag. 

Seamlines that don’t match across the garment - watch for sleeves not matching one another for example. 

Way too many patterns in the shop at very low prices - pattern making takes a lot of work and having hundreds of $3 patterns is a huge red flag. At best its someone devaluing their work.

Weird videos of just a sewing machine stitching, usually not even threaded correctly. I don't know why this is showing up on so many AI pattern listing, but if the thread is just flopping around above the needle, buyer beware.

Okay so now you have learned how to spot some flags - where should you browse patterns and find something usable!

Threadloop - I should do an entire post on how good threadloop already is for a sewist and the makers are constantly adding new features. They are building a database of patterns and users can post reviews, link finished projects and I believe they have instituted a visible tag if users suspect a pattern has AI generated elements. 

Sewing Pattern Review - This site looks dated, but the creators are still super involved. There is an active community of makers posting pattern reviews and it's easy to look for a specific pattern, browse through recent reviews, or look at a category like “pants”. 

Curvy Pattern Database - this is a database of designers who have sizing that goes up to a minimum of a 60” hip and for any sewist with a larger body this is where I would start, but even if you are a straight sized sewist this is a fantastic resource. Every pattern is manually added and Sarah, the fantastic sewist behind the database, also does round up posts of new pattern releases. She includes free patterns and I’ve never spotted a scammy pattern company in the round ups. 

Instagram - this is probably the most annoying option for me, especially since instagram broke their tags. That being said, if a pattern company isn’t on instagram that basically means they aren’t marketing to the kind of sewist who can spot a scam.

The Fold Line - a UK based pattern sales portal that has both indie and big 4 patterns (the ones in the envelopes with the books at the fabric stores). Even if you don't buy through their portal they have some handy search tools and a pleasant browsing experience, they also put out some great youtube videos of new releases and videos matching up patterns to trends in ready to wear.

[carolkinopf]

been thinking about posting some unfinished/unpolished stuff that i'm pretty sure i won't go back to work on, they are just sitting on my folders and it makes me a little sad

this is gonna be a long post (because I feel like I can't post it without explaining what they were meant to be), I decided to just make a single one with all of them so yea !

This is my Novo Amor propaganda that I never finished. I think this song is very felds-coded, and the animatic was really just to illustrate the lyrics since I think they fit very well.

So it shows feldspar reflecting about their poor choices and mistakes, and wanting to just. give up. But then hatchling shows up, somehow, to rescue them. And with coming back to timber hearth, reuniting with their friends and family, with time they eventually start coming to terms with everything that's happened and readjusting to life in timber hearth.

That entire segment that repeats "but I'll breath, I'm bored of how, bored of now" would be of scenes of that, starting with them reuniting with slate, gossan, gneiss, then being taken care of/patched up from living in poor conditions in dark bramble to then finally enjoying life with others (I ended up only adding rockettrio but I wanted to have them fishing with spinel, going for a hike/walk in the woods with tektite and maybe arkose, playing with hatchlings, joining the orchestra with everyone.... those things)

Slate is also there, because I thought it would be fun to have the transition with the museum photo to feldspar making their way to giant's deep and then dark bramble. And I like some slate angst (shocking)

This is like the most finished one from the post, so it's going first on the list.

(If you like the song i cannot recommend Novo Amor enough. They have many songs with OW vibes imho. And some that are just plain great. If you're curious which ones I associate with the silly aliens feel free to ask)

---

...this is a rather silly one. Not much to talk about it, I had the idea on a random morning of slate fixing one of their model ships (that feldspar accidentaly broke) in a scene analogous to a surgery shdjd

They are young teenagers here (13-14) so that's why slate is using the little cap (which is an accessory I borrowed from process_analog's young slate drawings thank you)

---

This was an experimentation of sorts. The idea was to reference those flashing lights in parties that makes it looks like you are living in a low fps world. Very trippy. But instead of black between "frames", it alternates between slate and feldspar dancing and the moments they had together, from the begging as kids, to teenagers, to young adults working on the OWV and to the final breakdown aka, a fight that led feldspar leaving in a rush and anger to never to be seen again, leaving a helpless slate behind (this was inspired by the first chapter of awanderingmuse's fic Find Your Buddy which I highly recommend!)

Since the song kinda talks about dancing instead of talking your feelings out, I feel like it fits with the fight being drowned out by them dancing in a different moment.

Fun fact: I got hit with The Visions for this animatic the same day I got hit with The Visions for the neujauciu meiles animatic. Which was not fun for my brain, I spent one hour staring at krita not knowing which one to start

cobalt is the one who showed me this song so kudos to him

i like this frame :) huggies

This is a version of only the scenes, I think it's a bit easier to see them progressing. During the fight scene, both slate and feldspar get flashbacks to good times, in poses that mirror their current ones. I thought it'd be a fun addition :)

---

......yet another sad slate (and feldspar) animatic. I was driving home listening to the song and got hit with The Visions once more. I like the colors changing on this one, the very first frame of them as kids is my absolute favorite. Even if it's just a rough sketch.

<3

---

Honorable mention to this one that I sketched an incredible amount of 3 frames

(I'm only putting this here as a cue for you to listen to Years On by Novo Amor. It's good I promise. I wanted to make an animatic for it, with the first half of the songs showing slate/the founders dealing with feldspar's dissapearance, and the second half with riebeck/hatchling - i never decided which one it'd be. But I had just done the Guestbook animatic, and this would be the exact same mood. And I wanted to do something different lol)

---

So, that is it, thank you if you checked all of it! And extra thanks if you did read all my ramblings

Here's a doodle for you:

I always have a lot of thoughts about these, but I don't talk about it because I find it's kinda irrelevant/redundant (plus kinda takes away attention from the actual video on the post). So I hope you enjoyed a little dive into some of them along with the videos !

so yeah, bybye! have a good day

[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Hey! I hope you like the series so far. I'm having fun writing it. Make sure to check out the Spotify playlist. xxx

TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Words: 2.017K

Warnings: Stalking!

Chapter Four

James Buchanan Barnes had been staring at his laptop’s screen for God knew how long. Sam made him buy a laptop and he wasn’t using it much since he had a phone, his phone was old but he didn’t care. It worked and that was the most important thing. He was on his couch, laptop on the coffee table, Alpine napping next to him and he was just staring at the screen. He found Y/N’s Instagram account. She didn’t have many pictures but the ones she had were very beautiful. Her smile was contagious and she looked so care free, it made Bucky wonder what happened to that girl? He knew that girl was still in there but he assumed life took a turn and one thing led to another. He wished he didn’t follow her to her apartment because that action gave him the information of her ‘’boyfriend’’ and he had to draw a line here. She belonged to someone else… the thought made his blood boil. What kind of a man would let his woman hustle?! He scoffed in disgust. ‘’I wasn’t planning on dating anyways.’’ He said to Alpine which made the cat purr, Alpine was a very talkative cat, she would respond to his words all the time. His phone rang and he picked it up, it was Sam, telling him that the government needed them on a small mission, it would be nice to kick some people’s asses and let his anger out so he said yes.

‘’I cannot believe the Rose Guy didn’t show up.’’ Melanie whined as they were closing, sweeping the floors and tidying the place up. ‘’Maybe his girlfriend dumped him.’’ She added which made Y/N chuckle, she didn’t tell Melanie that she had a second job and she saw him. For some reason she wanted to keep that information to herself. It had been a week since she saw him anyways. Y/N found herself disappointed when he didn’t come, she waited and had hope till the closing hour but he was a no show and she didn’t know why she was upset. She shrugged her shoulders and continued sweeping, cleaning and organizing kept her mind at peace and it was her escape. Ever since Leo moved in with her she was a cleaning maniac, the skin of her hands got dry and cracked due to the chemicals and they bled sometimes but seeing the clean sinks, surfaces made her feel like she accomplished something.

After they finished their job they said goodbye and parted ways, Y/N really liked Melanie but every time Melanie asked her to hang out outside she had to decline, eating out or even going out for simple coffee was something she didn’t have the luxury of. She kept coming up with lies,

 ‘’I promised Leo.’’

‘’Leo is taking me out tonight.’’

‘’We’re going on a weekend getaway.’’

The truth was that sometimes Leo didn’t even come home for a day or two and she never asked anything. She couldn’t handle the truth and she actively choose to stay in the dark side, mind her own business. With these thoughts she walked to the store she worked at, after learning that she had a second job and it was night shift at a market Leo didn’t say anything, he brushed it off to be exact. It made her angry, she was the one paying the rent and the bills and helping him with his gambling debt. She sighed as she wore her uniform, which was a blue shirt that had her name, she sat on the uncomfortable chair behind the cash register and opened her book. She never allowed herself any luxuries except books and usually got books from the library and she was a regular there but sometimes she wanted to own the book she was reading, a piece of literature in her home so if she liked a book very much she would buy it and add it to her collection at home. It was all she could do and afford, reading. Sometimes cleaning didn’t help with her non-stopping brain. She had few people come in, buying some products and leaving, it was a calm night and she was liking the calm. She would rather stay here than going back home. And she heard the door being opened, her head casually looked up to see the customer and it was him.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his face being bruised, dark circles under his crystal blue eyes, a swollen lip and a cut on his eyebrow, dark purple bruises here and there. Y/N found herself bolting to her feet, walking towards him with fear in her eyes, ‘’What happened to you?!’’

Bucky had just arrived from the mission, it had been a week, at first it was an easy mission but then it got complicated and he had few bruises, nothing he didn’t experience before and he realized he didn’t have any first aid kit in his bathroom so he got on his bike, he rode to her second job, just to see her after a week but if he had known that she would be this worried he wouldn’t have walked inside at all. When he walked inside her pretty eyes found Bucky and in those eyes he saw the primal fear, fear for someone she didn’t even know, an undeserving person…  He was a super solider which was something she didn’t know and his wounds healed more quicker than a normal human being but it wasn’t instant so he needed medicine etc. Bucky froze when she stood up and rush to him, being this close, there was a significant height difference so she had to look up at him, he found it adorable and liked it very much. ‘’Uh..’’ he felt his mouth open but couldn’t speak, he closed his mouth and it hurt a bit due to the bruise, ‘’Just.. got into a fight.’’ It wasn’t a lie, he was beating the shit out of bad men and they jumped on him. Ever since Wakanda he never killed an enemy, his move was to get their weapons and neutralized them. He wasn’t a killing machine anymore and he wanted to show that. ‘’Come.’’ She said and Bucky followed her immediately, like a trained dog. Y/N took him to the back, there was a storage place, ‘’Sit.’’ She said with authority that it made Bucky sit in a second. He was a solider after all and he was prone to follow rules. Y/N brought a small first aid kit, pulled a chair to sit in front of him, she placed the kit on her lap. Y/N was used to cleaning up bruises so her hands worked like magic, the only sound was the freezer working, the white florescent lights made the storage place look like an interrogation room but Bucky felt somewhat normal. He usually let no one touch him and this girl was patching him up. She cleaned the small cuts and open slits with antiseptic and then rubbed some ointment, she was surprised to see him sit like a statue, unmoving. Lastly she placed a band aid on the cut on his cheek, it was deeper than the other cuts. ‘’Change the band aid every day.’’ She said and stood up, ‘’You need first aid kit at home so I’ll give you one,’’ she closed the kit and handed it to him, ‘’just this once. Don’t get into trouble again.’’ This was the first time she was talking to him as a normal person than their usual customer and employee dynamic. He also got up, ‘’Thank you.’’ He managed to say, he wasn’t use to people just helping him or being nice for the sake of kindness and humanity other than Mr. Nakajima and Mrs. Rodriguez and the pain in Bucky’s butt Sam Wilson.  Bucky was used to being treated like an object to serve the needs of bad people. He just stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the kit, he was dressed in black, black pants and boots, black hoodie, leather gloves. She was also standing there, her pretty eyes looking around than him, ‘’I..’’ she began, ‘’I should get back to work.’’ She said and head to the door, Bucky followed in silence. He could feel the pull between them, wherever she went he would follow and he liked it, as he walked behind her in the store he knew that he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to see her, follow her, be her shadow and he was fine with it. A protective shadow who would o anything and everything for her.

She walked behind the cash register, ‘’I want to pay for the kit.’’ Bucky said, he didn’t want to put her in any bad situation, ‘’No, It’s on me.’’ She said calmly, she felt safe and could be more rational now that there was a space between them, his outfit, the way he held himself and his bruises made him look so virile that she had forgotten a man could look and have that energy. He sighed, ‘’Alright.’’ And then there was a pause between them, ‘’I should go.’’ Bucky announced, he raised the hand he was holding the kit, ‘’Thanks again.’’ His ocean eyes couldn’t stop staring, ‘’Next time you’re buying it so don’t fight.’’ She found herself being bold, deep down Y/N didn’t want him to fight and get hurt, he had a pretty face and she wanted it to stay like that. ‘’Yes ma’am!’’ Bucky said respectfully, if it meant that getting into trouble and getting few bruises would make her open up to him then he was planning to hire some men to beat him so that he could come back to her with an excuse. Y/N chuckled at his response, ‘’Good night.’’ She said as he was walking out, ‘’Night.’’ He replied and left the store.

Bucky walked to the empty alley he parked his bike and leaned on it, after their small interaction he wasn’t going to go home, home could wait. He was going to wait like he did last time, make sure she got home safe and then he was going to get back to Alpine and rest. He observed the small kit, she just touched that and now he was holding it, in his large hands, he could feel his cold heart beat faster, this was the first object that Y/N had touched and he got to keep it to himself. His distorted and dark mind wanted more but he calmed himself, they had plenty of time for that.

When her shift ended Bucky had been waiting in the dark alley for hours but his body didn’t feel any exhaustion, not when it come to her anyways. He got onto his bike and kept a safe distance, he made sure to wear his helmet, he didn’t want her to see him and be scared of him. She looked so fragile, helpless, and vulnerable and so.. so perfect.

Once she reached her building Bucky exhaled deeply, she was at home, he could go back to his.

Y/N opened the door slowly, it was locked which meant she didn’t have to be silent, on edge.. he wasn’t at home. She walked inside, closed the door behind her and leaned on it, exhaled deeply. She didn’t know when Leo would come back and honestly she didn’t care much. Her weary mind was reliving what happened on her late night shift, after not seeing the Rose Guy for a week he showed all bruised, from the beginning he looked like he had a dangerous life but she never thought she would see him like this. He was a scary man but the way he obeyed her tonight surprised her, she said follow he followed, she said sit and he sat… Y/N was so tired that she slowly sat on the floor, she couldn’t stop thinking of him, how he was calm, how his blue eyes looked at her.

Tag List: @pao-prazz @ruexj283 @lacey-mercylercy @idontcareforausernamesblog

Thank you for reading. :)

Chapter Five

[kisses-in-the-void]

Hello :3

Sorry to bother you, but I'm kiiinda new to Angbang fics - shipped them forever, somehow never read much - and just finished reading your fics on AO3 - I looove them, thank you for that ❤️

Just been wondering if you might have any more recs for modern AU Angbang? ☺️

(Also, I have a very dear friend in Ukraine and I just can't help but adding this - stay strong, and I hope you and all your loved ones stay safe.)

Oh! Thank you so much for your kind words! I always feel so happy when another angbang fan says they enjoyed something I wrote - especially lately, because damn, I really want to write more, but I’ve been struggling a lot for various reasons… And sometimes I get so insecure that I start thinking my fics are complete garbage, and maybe I should just delete them all and never write again. But I’d never actually do that, haha, even in my worst moment. Because I remember how disappointed I felt when authors I liked suddenly deleted their works, and I couldn’t go back to reread them anymore.

I’m very grateful to every fan who keeps writing (or drawing) even when they don’t get much feedback. Because I’ve known so many talented people in different fandoms who create wonderful things, but for some reason never receive the appreciation they deserve - and yet they still choose to stay and keep doing what they love. I’m trying to follow their example.

So thank you again - your message really meant a lot <3 And thank you for your support too! 😊💙💛

As for more modern AUs, here are a few I liked!

Necromancy, Homoerotic Hand-Holding, and Other Affronts Mairon Makes to God by Hrodbairhteins (M-rated)

Yield to the Moment by crackinthecup, nprose (E-rated, perfect for the people who enjoy slow-burn)

a little trouble by finalizer (M-rated)

Learn the Tube by Kaamos (reckless_love) (E-rated)

Forgive Me, I Meant To Do It by SaratWept (E-rated and pretty kinky, sadly unfinished, but it has many chapters. Just make sure to read the tags carefully and decide if you're okay with everything listed)

Saints Of Another Kind by ceruleanshark (T-rated)

Also a few lovely one-shots:

You Shook Me by swilmarillion (M-rated)

Tempest by melkorism (E-rated)

Seductions by Kaamos (reckless_love) (M-rated)

And these two works I haven’t read yet, but they’re on my list — they look promising, so I’m including them here too

Heavy Mithril by reindeer_pizza (T-rated)

If you loved him, why was he in a box in an alley in the middle of winter? by orphan_account (T-rated)

[jtargaryen18]

The Arrangement ~ Chapter 12 Preview

It might REALLY be Friday this week. I'm running behind. 😱

There was a knock at the door. One of the maids answered quietly, and a familiar voice followed, light, cheerful, cutting right through the tension in the air.

"Good morning," she greeted. "Here to see my daughter."

Mary stepped into the sitting room, balancing a cloth bag over one arm, carrying two other bags, and her coat was dusted with a bit of morning dew and determination. Her eyes landed on Tommy as he rose to help her with everything she was carrying. Her smile didn’t falter, though her brow lifted slightly.

“Well, it’s not the daughter I expected to find, but I’ll take the son-in-law.”

Tommy gave the barest smile. “Someone decided to sleep in.”

Mary clicked her tongue but didn’t press.

Turning her attention to the bundle she draped over her arm, she placed it gently on the couch. “These are the rest of her new dresses you asked for. I just finished them last night.”

Tommy stepped closer, opened the cloth with careful hands. Rich fabrics, soft colors. Pale blues, soft greens, a deep plum he remembered choosing without a second thought. She’d look good in all of them.

“Looks like you got it just right,” he said, lightly impressed. “Stitching’s damn near perfect.”

Mary gave a small, pleased shrug. “We know how to finish things properly.”

She began folding the empty cloth wrapping when she added, almost offhand, “And I put together that list of shoes you wanted commissioned for her. My new helper is better at sketching than me, fortunately. Bram Sullivan's daughter said they should be ready within the week.”

Tommy looked up, brow drawing slightly. “You didn’t go over there yourself, did you?”

Mary snorted. “No. I sent everything with Rory.”

Tommy eased slightly at that, nodding once. “Good.”

She set down another smaller parcel near the sewing machine in the corner. “Just some small mending pieces. Thought I’d leave them here for her.”

Tommy frowned. “That new girl I hired for you, she not working out?”

Mary smiled at that, but it was a quiet, knowing smile. “Oh no, Irene’s lovely. Very sweet, talented. Thank you again.”

“Then why are you still bringing work for your daughter?”

That earned him a look. Mary straightened up, hands on her hips, her eyes warm but firm. “Because she grew up working. Just like you did.” Mary folded the now-empty cloth bag with efficient hands. “She’s not used to sitting idle, and never had the opportunity to do so, especially after Malachy died.”

“I’m at a place in life,” Tommy said carefully, “where I can have a wife who doesn’t have to do anything except take care of me and our children.”

Mary looked at him for a moment, giving him that same half-smile her daughter wore sometimes, like she could see straight through him. “You can have that,” she said. “But whether she’ll sit still for it is another thing entirely.” She looked toward the sewing machine again. “If I don’t leave her something to do there, she’ll go poking around the garden. Or the pantry. Or reorganizing your entire bloody house. I’m trying to keep her from climbing the walls.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “That’s your idea of rest?”

She shrugged. “My idea of peace. She’s like me that way, we need something to do with our hands.”

He leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed, something like respect in his expression. Christ, I know exactly what that’s like.

Mary turned to her final bag and pulled out something smaller, a muslin pouch with a few round shapes wrapped carefully inside. “Lemons,” she said. “I’ll leave them in the kitchen for her.”

Tommy glanced at it. “She hasn’t had morning sickness in weeks.”

Mary smiled, but there was something gentler behind it now. “She’s nervous today.”

That made him straighten a little. “Why?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Mary tilted her head. “Nadia’s coming tonight. Checking up on her. Says she’s going to tell us if the baby’s a boy or girl. Something about a ring or a charm.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, the edge of a smile playing at his mouth. “They’ll use her engagement ring. Dangle it on a strand of her hair or thread, hold it over her stomach.”

Mary looked intrigued.

He continued, voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “If it moves in a circle, it’s a girl. If it swings back and forth, it’s a boy.”

Mary smiled. “Well, I’ve never heard that one.”

“You’ve learned something new, then.”

She nodded, genuinely curious. “I know very little about the Romani. Just the basics.”

Tommy paused. His voice softened just slightly. “There’s gypsy blood in my family.”

Mary tilted her head again, thoughtful now. “I guessed as much. From the way Nadia speaks to you. It’s familiar.”

He studied her carefully. “Does it bother you?”

Mary waved it off without hesitation. “Why would it? Romani are good people. Malachy’s grandmother was Romani, if I remember right.”

Tommy didn’t show his surprise, but a part of him that had stayed braced, waiting for judgment, waiting for that subtle shift in tone people used when they learned about his gypsy blood. But Mary  like her daughter was accepting, and his girl had Romani in her blood too.

Mary glanced toward the hallway. “I’ll try to come by again later tonight, see what Nadia says about this grandchild of mine.”

She picked up her empty bag and headed for the door. "Giver her my love," she said. "I'd stay but Rory has men stomping all over our house doing the repairs." She laughed. "If they pull up any more floorboards without checking with me first, I'll be dragging them out by the ear."

And with that, she was gone like a spring storm, leaving behind lemons, dresses, and more for Tommy to think about than he was ready to admit.

[tgmsunmontue]

What to write weekend... 29th Nov - 1st Dec

Limiting it to 7 options this weekend and the first 7 people in, because I can manage ~5k of words around the social engagements I have this weekend and drawing I want to do. If I need more I'll shout out.

1, 2, A, B, C, H, K,

(If you're new - people send me up to three numbers/letters from the list below and I try my utmost best to write 250 words for each one before my weekend finishes). Tracking words here as per usual.

WRITING GOALS:

To update at least one of the seven fics, and also start posting for the advent/Christmas thing.

1 - Sagas of Solitude 15/21 - IceMav with side Hangster AU - angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley Bradshaw who has to keep his relationship with Mav and Ice a secret when he starts at the USNA. Featuring married Ice and Mav (but not to each other). Prologue He Remembers and Lonely Nights are both set in this verse. (Last updated 23rd Nov)

2 - Season to Taste 29/? Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world. (Last updated 27th November)

A) Upon which our souls touch - 6/? - Hangster Fantasy AU (Last updated 14th November)

B) Never knew I was missing you - 5/? - Hangster AU with Jake a naval aviator and Bradley and A-list Hollywood star. They meet on a dating app. Famous and cat fishing that isn't cat fishing because online relationships are rife but...? (Tumblr idea) (Last updated 19th November)

C) To wake, perchance to dream - 5/? - Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what their life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic) (Last updated 16th November)

H) From the top 3/? - an Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together. AU divergent ish. (Last updated 17th Nov)

K) Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide - 11/?Transformers cross-over for help me @yeagrave is 110% to blame for me adding this... (related to this post) (Last updated 21st November)

[countrymusiclover]

7 - Playing with Fire

Princess Red Thief

Part 8

Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35

I thrashed and kicked in every way that I could with the two nurses who were trying to tie me down to the bed and give me some medicine in the very few short hours that I had been forced to be locked up here. "Get off me - ah get off!"

"We are trying to help you, Ms. Royal." One said back.

I managed to get my elbow  out and hit one of them in the face where he stumbled back into the wall. "I don't need to be down here!"

"Contact the mayor and see what she wants done to her." One female nurse called out into the hallway.

I knew that the mayor didn't like Emma being here and the fact that she was encouraging his beliefs in the childhood tales. I never imagined she would think I was helping her and be placed in a place like this. "Ms. Royal, stop fighting please."

"Never. You asshole nurses!" I growled baring my teeth at the blonde nurse.

Another nurse came from the hallway carrying a needle filled with something inside the vial. "This should help her calm down until we get further instruction."

"You'll have to catch me first." I kicked the other nurse onto the floor heading towards the open hospital room door until the nurse with the syringe grabbed my arms holding me tightly. "Ahh! No...no...Gold."

The nurse I had kicked got up from the ground and caught my body when my eyes began feeling heavy. I heard someone familiar talking to the front desk worker. "Where is Ms. Royal?"

"Eve Royal was scheduled to be put under psychiatric care." The worker responded.

Gold's voice I would recognize anywhere was the last thing I heard before I blacked out and I swear I could hear panic in his tone. "Who the hell authorized that! Eve!"

The sound of the spinning wheel was the only noise being heard throughout the old castle. Reading the magical book of drawings and foreign words that I had laid out before me on the long table. "We've already finished our lessons for today. I would have thought you'd made your way home by now."

"I want to get a handle on this spell. If I don't then things could go wrong if my mother finds out the truth." I slumped my shoulders, not lifting my gaze from the book.

Rumplestilskin rose from his spinning wheel hands behind his back walking over to me. "You're really concerned about what she thinks aren't you."

"She's my mother. With my father being trapped she's all I have left at the moment." Flipping to the next page I read the word that dept with creating fire in my hands or creating it out of thin air.

The dark one paused behind me eyeing the page that I was reading at the moment. "If you're so close as you say you are, why are you so nervous of her reaction?"

"I'm not that nervous." I replied until I sucked in a breath feeling his front pressing up against my back. "Rumple...what are you doing?"

His breath whispered in my ear. "If you're not nervous then why haven't you told her yet?"

"I...I have my reasons." I held my breath.

He kept on with teasing me. "What are the reasons?"

"You don't need to know considering they are my reasons and none of your business-" I cut myself short spinning around on my feet forgetting how close he was to me. Now face to face his nose was pressing against mine.

Rumpe smirked, stepping back away from me. "The same thing I say when I make deals with anyone who asks why I want a certain thing from them."

"I'm going back to my book now." Moving my attention back to the book pages, my hair falling in front of my face. Scanning the pages I did my best to translate the word off the page. "In...incendi."

Rumple watched me closely with my nails tapping away on the wood. "I'm intrigued you would want to learn the fire spell, dearie."

"Please stop distracting me." Shutting my eyes tightly I huffed under my breath. My hands turned into fists and I felt that I could feel flames coursing through my veins. "In...Incendia."

Instantly after the word left my mouth the book in front of me lit up in flames and I stumbled backwards tripping over the ends of my red cloak "Everly...woah...woah I've got ya." I heard Rumple's voice call out for me, managing to catch my body when I fell in the direction of his arms.

"Uh...thank you, Rumple." I whispered, clinging onto the leather clothes he wore. He had his arms wrapped around my waist now.

The dark one stared at me silently for a few minutes before he muttered a reply back. "You're welcome, Everly." I wasn't sure what came over me at the time but I felt my body lean forward into his. His brown eyes met mine and to my surprise we both leaned in to kiss the other. Once we closed the gap we ended up kissing for a brief moment until he pushed me backwards. "You need to be more careful. You're lucky you didn't burn my whole castle down."

"I'm sorry, Rumple." I apologize watching him walk away past the now destroyed book on the table. Covering my lips with the tips of my fingers I was left feeling so conflicted.

Gold's pov

"What have you done with Everly!" Kicking open her mayor office door I didn't care what people heard in our conversation. She had done something to her and I needed to know why immediately. The office door hit the wall and then slammed shut behind me.

Regina put her paperwork down on her desk. "I think you mean Eve. There's no Everly in this town."

"Stop toying with me. I went looking for her when she didn't show up at work before I got a call from the hospital saying they were admitting her. Given that I am her emergency contact." I glared at the woman in front of me.

She clicked her tongue. "She began speaking foreign languages and encouraged the idea to my son that his book is all true. I simply thought she needed some mental help."

"She has done nothing to you. Leave her out of this feud between you and Ms. Swan." I gripped the handle of my cane.

Regina didn't seem fazed by what she was doing. Since the night I had woken up I knew my former student was all alone not knowing who she was and that both her parents were alive. "I'm not worried about you trying to break the curse. But I don't know her well enough to assume she isn't a threat."

"I'm getting her out and if you come after her again I promise you there will be suffering!" I threatened the queen not caring what power she thought she had over me.

The queen chuckled dryly. "I'm not afraid of you. Besides I know just who to hurt in order to hurt you."

"You won't succeed, your majesty!" Spinning around on my feet I stormed out of her office. She just looked back at her papers planning her next move, not afraid of the Dark One in a realm that she was currently running.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[aquaticaesthetic]

First meeting

Silverhall. Home. As much as I enjoy adventuring, it is always nice to return. Take a break. Let my magic settle. Catch up with people. Help with my parents’ shop.

After a couple days in the shop and spending time with my parents, checking off that list leads me to The Dead Blossom, a small, dingy, dark, hole in the wall bar owned by one Amos Warren that hasn't always seen my best side. He doesn't seem to mind, though. If he does, he's never told me otherwise. I like to think he lets me stay since I help keep the assholes out. 

Maybe I should've been a bouncer.

Pushing open the door, I take a quick look around, spotting a few unfamiliar faces amongst the several familiar ones. Not a bad turn out tonight all things considered. A few of the familiar faces wave to me as I head for the bar. I wave back.

I see Amos working the bar and take a seat in front of him. Bothering the grizzled grump is always fun.

“I lived.”

“I see that.” He sets a drink down in front of me. “How long are you in town for this time?”

“However long it takes to find another group who's heading out who needs a healer.” I take a sip. “And however long it takes to start growing a new batch of herbs for the shop for Dad. The offer to grow you things still stands, by the way.”

He scoffs, “If I start adding lavender to anything it’s not my bar anymore.”

I roll my eyes. “You can use it at home too, you know.”

“What makes you think I go home?”

“I'm not six, I know you don't sleep under the bar.”

That makes him crack a smile. A small one, but I take what I can get. “You sure? Maybe that's why my back's been hurting lately.” We both share a laugh.

“You giving me the evil eye or something!?”

The loud accusation draws both mine and Amos’ attention. At a nearby table, a tall and somewhat muscular man stands over some poor red headed man who looks like he's actively trying to shrink into himself, hands up trying to placate the other with reassurances that he's just sitting there. This does nothing to deescalate the situation. The asshole must have had a few drinks in him.

I frown, and Amos gives me a knowing look. He then goes off to help another patron.

With that, I stand, knock back the rest of my drink, and face the problem, approaching him and leveling him with a glare, crossed arms, and a warning to knock it off.

“Are you the owner or something?” he asks.

“I'm not.”

He has the nerve to smirk. “Then what are you gonna do about it?” he says smuggly. He's taller than me by maybe half a foot and posturing to make himself look even taller.

He quickly finds out just what I'm going to do about it.

CRACK!

He stumbles back from the uppercut, holding his jaw and looking stunned. Unfortunately the feeling only looks like it lasts a few seconds before he's glaring and throwing a punch right back. I dodge, then throw a left hook that he's much more ready for. He aims for my stomach. Tries for a grab. Gets a hit in on my arm. My side. I go for the chest and the face again, missing the latter. It leaves me open and he gets a solid punch in, hitting where I missed. The pain blooms under my eye. I return the hit as best I can, slamming my fist into his side. He returns the hit right to my jaw, sending me stumbling into a table.

I hear footsteps approaching as I brace myself against the table, but they stop before they reach me. I catch a glimpse of Amos glaring down the man who I can only assume is about to finish the fight. Like I hadn't gotten my ass thoroughly kicked enough already.

He kicks my leg as he walks past, muttering something about not worth his time, and I'm grateful for the table I'm leaning on.

After watching him walk out, as best I can anyway, I grab a nearby chair and flop down onto it with a groan. My teeth hurt. My eye hurts. My side hurts. I touch my lip and find blood.

A small bag of ice hits the table just in front of me before I can heal, and I look over at it with my good eye just in time to see Amos heading back to the bar. I make a mental note to tip the man heavily at the end of the night as I press the bag to my eye.

I only look up again when I hear someone clearing their throat. It's the redhead. He smiles politely, tugging at the gloves he wears.

“Um, thank you, for getting him to stop. I'm sorry about the trouble, and your eye.”

I wave off the concern. “It's not the first time, probably won't be the last. I don't mind.” To make my point, I cast a healing spell to relieve the pain in my side.

“Oh, right. Still, thank you.” He extends a hand. “I'm Cian.”

I reach out mine to shake his hand. “I'm Satisa.”

“It's nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

He tugs at his gloved hands again. The poor guy looks like a lost puppy.

I gesture to one of the seats at my table. “You can take a seat, if you want.”

He sits down a bit too fast. He really is a puppy.

We spend the next hour just small talking before parting ways. I heal myself in the meantime, not wanting to worry my parents by coming home with a black eye. Not that it would stop them from hearing about it eventually. At least it didn't hurt anymore.

I end up seeing him around Silverhall quite often. We stop and chat, sometimes he follows while I run errands. I eventually tell him about the shop and he stops by. I think my parents are glad I've seemingly made a friend. It won't last long, but I think I'm glad, too.

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

“If you end up drawing something magnificent, in contrast to the apple I would be drawing,” Magnus grumbles.

Alec chuckles before kissing Magnus on his cheek. “This isn’t a competition.”

“Speak for yourself,” Magnus shoots back.

He snorts, “Then we both know who is winning.”

“Excuse you, have you forgotten that I’m a designer and draw professionally.”

“You design clothes. This is different.”

“Snob,” Magnus mumbles.

He paints a beautiful picture of Makkaser, and it had Magnus’s small house situated at the end.

“I’m done.”

Magnus hides his sheet from his view and squeals, “No. I need another ten minutes.”

“Is this a talking Apple?” Alec grins.

“Fuck off.”

He throws his head back and lies comfortably. They’re both sitting on the floor, takeout next to them with a glass of wine in both their hands.

It’s heartbreakingly domestic.

There are things about people that you only learn after living with them for a long time. Alec still finds out new things about his kids every day.

He wonders how many things about each other they’d never get to know.

Magnus finishes his painting and squeals in joy, “I’m done.”

“Show.”

“First you.”

Alec huffs before turning his sheet. A beautiful smile appears on Magnus’s face.

“It’s gorgeous. And I hate you and your impeccable artistry.”

|| Alec Lightwood is happy. He has a supportive family, kids he adores more than anything in the world, and a job that allows him to support his kids' expensive lifestyles. He is happy and content.

However, Alec's kids are ready to move out when he meets Magnus again, twenty years since they broke up.

Alec and Magnus had a whirlwind romance in Paris two decades back. They fell in love instantly—and hard. But life pushed them away, and they went their separate ways.

A chance encounter brings the two back into each other's lives.

Will they fight the odds together this time and get the life their past selves promised each other?

A story about love, loss, and everything that follows. ||

Final Chapter of But This Love Is Ours

tag list: @elettralightwood @khaleesiofalicante @noah-herondale-lightwood @carelessflower @anarchistbitch @dustandducks @pocketoffeels @literallytypogod @thepaintedladycollection @thelightofthebane @ignisaurumprobat9 @magnus-the-maqnificent @raziyekroos @dandeliononthemoon @delightfullyterrible @alec-not-alright-wood @kita-no @learningshelfcontrol @lifeofpatterns (let me know if anyone wants to be added or removed)

[rabbitindisguise]

How should people write characters that happen to be women?

Idk how other people do it, but personally:

People watching. My brain is a constant recorder memorizing mannerisms, the way people talk, how people respond to them, etc. Not just women- everyone. It's important to have contrast. You can draw from real people. You can draw from characters. You can draw from ads. Just think about everything all of the time in the back of your mind in the place where daydreaming lives or songs get stuck

Settings without women (boys schools, sailor ships) still have women (nurses teachers custodians, wives and other relatives friends mermaids etc)

A female character doesn't have to be the narrator to be significant, which means regardless of who the narrator is there should be important side characters in the story that contribute to the plot

Including a woman is the very beginning, the author has to use her to tell a story. Double standards where the men experience whump and women don't are obvious. It's plot armor. Kick them all 👍 make them ugly cry in the most undignified way possible.

Women and men are capable of all the same things but being a woman isn't the same as being a man. Finding out what gender means- really means- and ignoring what people say it means when they show it means something different is very important. Example: doing the dishes as a woman and doing the dishes (neutral) is different. Unravel wtf I could mean by that and you're like 1/2 of the way there

Hard and fast rules stifle a story. It all depends on context. What's compelling in one is pointless in another (warrior woman who does embroidery? Hell yeah. Reflects on tropes, the idea that warriors must be masculine even if they're women, asks if being a warrior is even a form of gender expression or gender role at all, humanizes with complexity. Housewife that does embroidery? Now that's difficult. Now it becomes "maybe she can use it to make swear words" or "maybe she never finished a single project this year and still buys new thread" or "maybe she's not very good but she's being supportive of her son that's learning too." It's doable, but harder to make it stand out and not let it fade to the background. People don't typically write "sky is blue" every chapter, so writing that a woman can do embroidery is a bit useless. In most settings this is standard. If it's not standard, it's worth mentioning (e.g. the son example) and if it's not then it's subtly alluding to gender conformity, which could provide tension with a GNC character. It triangulates with other aspects of the world to change the meaning.)

Feminist writing tips focus a lot on making the reader happy but organic writing with realism might include a zap of "! That's painfully relatable" like a woman hesitating before letting go of her boyfriend's hand when she's joining a group of adventurers (that includes men and journeys down dark roads at night), which adds contrasts to her joys with her new best friend (another woman of the party who's there with her twin sister), her experience in battle, and her triumphs later in. Subtracting the fear gives no tooth. I make a lot of my female characters defensive, shy, aloof, and give them flaws like being petty and vengeful. "The anger of women" is a theme I explore but might not be everyone's theme. Regardless they have to say something since everything has to say something in a piece of fiction (and it will say something even if you don't consciously decide to make a message)

That said those negative things can be cathartic and healing.

Narrative weight is more important than words on page or screen time. A woman that haunts the narrative and says 3 words that are plot relevant has a bigger narrative weight than a sidekick that chats all the time (tlt for example). Letting go of feminist lists (including this one) is growing past the formulas and equations that are meant to be training wheels to help people grow

Do whatever you want forever

Also like not thinking about this and doing whatever comes naturally and then fixing it by editing it can be really helpful. But with an outline, definitely check over the whole plan to be sure it aligns with the story you want to actually tell by the end of it, lest ye suffer the Drastic Draft Re-Writes

[rosieuv]

New website is up!

Finally, after like 2 months: I finished it!

I never want to touch HTML ever again.

Here it is:

I thought I should do a little commentary here as it isn't just some standard linktree/carrd.co thing anyone with a free afternoon can crap out (and also because I'm vain) so here's the commentary:

The problem with my old one was that it was getting too crowded for all the stuff I was chucking at it. I mean, look at this header:

It's a mess!

I wanted to make something that had everything in nice neat categories, and also this was in a time where I was unsatisfied at how flat UI design had become and was starting to long the futiger aero windows XP-7 days. I wanted to make it look detailed and shiny and more personal. I deleted everything off and for 2 months, this was what the website looked like:

(I didn't have a more up to date "under construction" picture so I used the one from Sci-Fi RaiRoboska!?).

I didn't realise it would take 2 months but I didn't want a repeat of last time where I was talking on discord with someone and they were looking at my website as I was designing it as I was doing it live in Neocities and I left the link in my bio.

I used the same layout builder as I still didn't know how containers worked then. It ended up causing some problems later down the line with media querys (FUCK media querys) but it's decent enough to get you started. I did some fiddling with the header so it was the right length (dear god that took a while) and had to do that airbrush thing multiple times just to get it looking right.

I drew this background at around the same time and used my OCs from San_Watsaku as it's my latest game and I don't really have another group of OCs from a game that's released. Annoyingly, I couldn't get the sizing to work on a regular 1080p widescreen display so the top and bottom cuts out. I was trying to go for a similar approach to how Newgrounds does the background arts.

I had a wayback machine page of Newgrounds in 2013 in the early days as reference on how to make things look cool, as well as some pages from this website that has a collection of screenshots of webpages, specifically for UI reference. I was trying to make it look like a website from the late 2000s-early 2010s where everything wasn't flat but also wasn't as shiny as windows 7 (usually).

I put little doodles of myself across the pages because it looks more interesting than a flat button saying "video games". That sidebar is annoying though as it has a habit of cutting off if the main box isn't the right shape by the pixel.

I was very proud of these buttons when I got them working. The design changed a bit as I realised that it needed to be longer to fit properly.

Wasn't sure what to do with tumblr though:

I used a speech bubble drawing for my bio thing to make it look more aesthetic and also to flex that I didn't use AI at all as AI can't replicate my shaky-ass hand. I found this file called "avocadoplaceholder.jpg" which seems to be what I was using to figure out sizing.

For the stuff below the main boxes, I googled for stuff to chuck on a neocities page as it was too boring just having the bluesky embed sitting there. I went on the gif hunt at 11 pm while some AI bro on discord was calling me an idiot for actually coding and drawing the UI. I put some other stuff to pad space, like the pixel art and the links to my older websites. I added some stuff to it over time, like the interests list and the music section once I finally figured out how to get audio players working (literally earlier today lol). I wanted to add music for each page but decided against that. I wanted music on the main page though but couldn't for the life of me get it to work until I was trying to add a preloader (didn't work) and the website I was on was another neocities one that had an audio player but had the "neocities.org" thing in the URL so I knew they weren't a supporter. I went into inspect element and figured out that dropbox works and that's why I now have a dropbox account. Couldn't find a tutorial on how to make it not look basic though, so all I did was make it shorter and blue.

I made unique backgrounds for each of the pages to differentiate them and I made these from scratch as I actually figured out how containers and grids worked.

And of course: matching headers:

For each page: there's a doodle of me doing something vaguely relevant to the topic, little circles as links for the socials I have that apply to that thing (Newgrounds is on all of them and YouTube is on 3/4 of them.) I then used that speech bubble thing to make backgrounds for all the little bios. The music one was originally much longer but I cut it down significantly so it would fit. I used the empty spaces for doodles.

continuing...

[auxiliarydetective]

We've done it!

Or, more accurately, you've done it! Thanks to you, my fellow Tumblrinas, I've actually managed to hit 200 followers!

I never thought I would get this far, but I'm eternally grateful for all the love you've given me, and I can't wait to share many more brainrots with you!

In tune with that, I've decided: Why not let you look even further into my mind? I've given you lots of writing, but why not provide some visuals? And so, in thinking about what I wanted to do for my 200 followers celebration, I came up with...

⁕ Evie's Mind Palace Festival! ⁕

(Placing a cut so this doesn't get too long ^^)

As depicted in this lovely graphic above, I'm going to be focusing on my OCs' fashion for this little event. But not just that! I'll get to the bonuses later :)

For now, text version! Because Tumblr likes not loading images and some people may not be able to view the image

↬ Step 1: Pick an OC of your choice! From my OCs, that is. Hope that was clear. Anyone from the list. I'll even throw in a little bonus and say that unintroduced OCs are allowed! That means the ones on this list AND ones I may have rambled to to you in a chat we've had.

↬ Step 2: Pick an occasion prompt! The prompts are as follows:

Casual (aka everyday wear, aka their basic character design or an alternate outfit or it)

Formal

Training/Athletic

Battle (this may overlap with either 1. or 3. for some characters, but let's assume they actually get geared up for battle)

Hot weather (your typical summer clothes)

Cold weather (sweaters, winter coats, you name it)

Swimwear

Canon event (may overlap with some other categories, but I made this a separate thing for the lore opportunities it provides) - Make sure to specify what canon event you want!

Stealing clothes - You can include who the character should steal from in your ask, otherwise I will pick the victim myself.

Holiday-themed - Pick your holiday! Any holiday counts.

Fandombend - Pick your fandom! (This will probably come with some headcanons on what the OC would be like in the new fandom)

Inspired by a song - Please, pick a song! Preferably from the OC's playlist. I should have a playlist for almost every OC. Hop into the "#playlist" tag on my blog to find them and, if they're not posted over there anywhere, tap on any playlist that's there, let it take you to my Spotify profile, and hop into the "Character Playlists" folder!

↬ Step 3: If you want, pick an extra prompt! Your options are:

Historical - Please specify your time frame! You don't necessarily have to, but I tend to be an indecisive little gremlin, so it would make things a little easier if you could pick ^^"

Fantasy (This, of course, makes little sense if the OC is already in a fantasy setting)

Sci-fi (Once again, this makes little sense if the OC is already in a sci-fi setting)

Steampunk

Cultural - Please pick a culture for me to take inspiration from! It doesn't have to be a real-life culture. For example, you could pick Japan for some kimono art or you could pick the Kuja from One Piece!

Color prompt - Pick your color! I ask that you do keep it at one color so that I have some more freedom, and I won't take specific hex codes either because those specific hex codes might clash with the OC's color palette

Prompt of your choice - This can be literally anything! Yes, also an occasion, in which case it would replace your original occasion prompt. I just didn't have the space to add in all occasions known to man, so if you have another idea, this is where to put it.

↬ Step 4: Send your ask! Done!

Once you've sent your ask, please keep in mind that it might take me a while to answer it. I'll then make a collage/moodboard and get the ask posted. Maybe, I'll also draw your prompt, depending on if I have the energy and/or time for it. If I plan on doing that, I'll let you know in the post and tag you once I have the drawing finished! I may also be swayed into adding a little fic snippet to the answer, if I do feel so inclined. Maybe a song to match the vibes? It'll be a little surprise!

► Rules:

Be nice! It's not hard, and it's basically all I ask.

This is the one time you might not want to shower me in asks because these asks might take a bit to answer. I'm not putting a cap on how many asks per person you're allowed to send, just maybe be mindful of how long they take to answer and space them out over the time of the event.

I'll be accepting asks from the time that this is posted until March 17th. The event ends with the strike of midnight starting the next day. Whenever that may be in your time zone. As long as it's still 23:59 on March 17th somewhere around the world, send in your ask. I might also extend the event if asks keep coming in and I have the energy to keep going.

↬ Additional info for mutuals: You get to ask for crossovers! Just pick one of my OCs and one of yours and I'll try my best to draw them. I might bother you for references though, so be prepared! It doesn't matter how long we've been mutuals for! It could've been five minutes, you're still allowed to send in crossover asks. As long as we're mutuals, let's say, at the time that the ask is answered, it's all good. In practice, that means that you just need to be following me to be able to send in a crossover request. If you ask nicely and maybe say something about why you'd think why our two children would go well together and we share a fandom, it's very unlikely that I'll deny your request and won't follow you back.

Also, if you've ever wanted to say something about my OCs and/or me and my blog, this might be the perfect time for you to do it.

Okay, that's it for now! Love you, everyone! Here's to more fandom-y shenanigans!

Also, behold my new non-OC post divider! It features a lineart sketch of my blog icon in the middle! The icon was designed by @benevolenterrancy pretty much exactly two years ago when they realized my old icon was not, in fact, a unicorn. I still go full-on heart-eyes mode whenever I see my icon, so I figured it was time to remind everyone of the amazing artist that created it <3

Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @fluffle-system @wheresmybloodynauglamir @supermarine-silvally @nanukanal @cody-helix02 (I believe this is the first time I've ever used my full taglist, aka the basic taglist plus everyone from fandom-specific taglists - wowie!) - Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed, for specific fandoms or the general list!

[affluent-havoc]

Naegamigiri/Naegirigami/Tonaegiri/PEN TATTOOING IN WHICH THE PEN IS JUST A SCHOOL SUPPLY

Remember this comic I made yesterday that was pretty goofy? Well, I'm adding to it! I MUST! First off, Makoto thought of this idea of giving fake pen tattoos with his boyfriend after going back into memory lane. Like, the thought about his good memories in elementary school watching other children do it or something. Or, I dunno! Maybe there was a foreign exchange student that showed them all. I'm bullshitting through this lore, okay! Regardless though, Makoto never ended up participating in this activity but, now since he's older, he wants to scratch it off his bucket list even if it's a bit silly. Byakuya finds this whole idea stupid and complains on how unnecessary this if for Makoto to do with him. However, the heir doesn't take much to agree though groaning the whole time. Cue the silly comic antics. Also, SOOO imagining the pure utter silence after Kyoko opened the door and saw these two bozos doing THIS of all things. Like, Makoto and Byakuya are embarrassed together and there is nothing they can do about it. Kyoko eventually breaks the silence though by asking the boys the obvious. "What are you two doing?" She 100% already deduced what they were up to of course. She's curious on what they have to say for themselves. This then leads to Makoto stumbling through his words while Byakuya is trying not to die on the spot. Kyoko eventually just chuckles and sits next to them though. After all, there's never a dull moment with these two. Kyoko probably decides to join them at some point too cus why would she pass up the opportunity to mess with Byakuya a bit. Like, the guy's the perfect target for her. His reactions are always so ridiculous due how how hard he tries not to look silly. Another thing I'm thinking is Kyoko eventually bringing up the doodle sketch Makoto drew of himself on Byakuya's side. It's not like she wouldn't notice, no matter how light the sketch is. Makoto eventually is unflustered enough to offer if she wants to draw something too. Byakuya, predictably, immediately says she shouldn't (he's still recovering from the embarrassment) but now she wants to do it even more so he's screwed. Kyoko lets Makoto finish his sketch first though while smirking to herself as Byakuya trembles the entire damn time since Makoto opted to go back to his lighter sketching method as to not hurt him this time. Also, dunno where to squeeze this but Kyoko definitely asks Makoto why they decided to do this on Byakuya's side. Makoto explains that Byakuya wanted to ensure that these stay hidden! He's not risking having the doodles on his arms. Meanwhile, Makoto doesn't mind having doodles on his arms so this side thing is just for Byakuya cus he's a special boy. Byakuya definitely doesn't feel too special after all of this though due to how embarrassed he got. Either way, after Makoto's done with his drawing fully (took him a bit with how much Byakuya was complaining and squirming the whole time), the three take time to admire his wore. It's a rudimentary sketch but they all like it. Or well, Makoto and Kyoko verbally do while Byakuya's coping by being in denial central. Like, he finds it charming but there's no way he's saying that willingly! However, the admiration soon ends and Kyoko takes a crack at drawing too. The whole time she draws, Byakuya's trying so freaking hard to stifle his reactions and squirming while still complaining and that the two tormenting him and how Makoto set the rules that they do each other. So, like, stop! He commands it. Makoto and Kyoko just look at each other before going back to doodling on the guy though. They take turns together as Byakuya is just a wreck since, this entire time, he's been focused on stifling every reaction he possibly can, albeit, terribly. He's not used to all of this attention and specifically this situation. Yet another thing that's foreign to him. Just complains the whole time on how weird it feels while Kyoko and Makoto are just bulling him. Byakuya gets his revenge though. Besides, Makoto needs his fake sleave of tats from his gorls!