#but couldn't figure out good visible colouring

[sakuraspoke]

So I had a lot of Metal Hammer posters all over everywhere. OKEJ and Metal Hammer posters. One thing I noticed about bands… Not only did I see Voïvod in there, but I also saw a lot of the cooler, tougher bands had Voïvod shirts. [x]

[theflowerrooms]

I have a request please 💜 I had the most random idea, Eddie and his gf who is quite shy and sweet, she makes one of those paper fortune teller things and uses it with Eddie, she uses it in a cute way, like to see how many kisses he will get and things like that but maybe Eddie then makes one of his own but his is not so innocent 😈 just basically him making a game out of ways he can please his girl..he will probably try get her to choose certain numbers too because he knows the answers beneath them 😅 but yeah just something fluffy and ofc smutty if you would like! Thankyouuuuu 🥰 love your work

•{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {my masterlist}•

Thirteen Kisses

Eddie Munson x innocent!fem!reader

Summary: for Eddie, you make a paper fortune game that buys you tons of kisses, for you, Eddie makes a paper fortune game that buys him the opportunity to make you feel as good as possible

wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, petnames, marking/hickeys, oral (f receiving), making out, unprotected sex

There was always a seat next to Eddie at the hellfire table in the cafeteria, and that seat was always reserved for you. That seat was also almost always empty, because each day, you opted to sit in Eddie’s lap rather than your own chair. He of course didn’t mind, the closer you were, the better. He loved nothing more than holding you and doting on you, his special girl.

“It’s called a fortune teller! But mine’s special and I made it just for us.” You grinned at your boyfriend, kicking your feet excitedly as you sat in his lap, leaning against his chest and showing him the fortune teller you made. “First you gotta pick a colour.”

Eddie rested his head against yours as he looked down at the paper origami in your hand. “Hmm… red.” He stated and you started to move the fortune teller in your hands, spelling out the word ‘red’. He caught on quick, and unprompted, he picked a number, 7, and you moved the fortune teller again, counting to 7. Finally, out of the visible numbers, he picked 2. You flipped it up and smiled.

“Thirteen! You gotta give me thirteen kisses.” You smiled before correcting yourself, “Unless you don’t wanna-”

“Shut up.” He laughed playfully and kissed you quickly, he only pulled back for a second before he was kissing you again. He kissed your lips five times, each cheek once, the tip of your nose, and then five more kisses on your lips. By the end of those thirteen kisses, you were both giggling a ton.

You raised the fortune teller in your hands once more. “Again?” You asked, and he was quick to comply, huge smile on his face.

  He picked the colour purple, then the number six, and finally the number four. "Eight kisses!" You were smiling from ear to ear, and Eddie was only able to match it himself.

  Of course he immediately complied, peppering seven kisses over your face and giving you one big wet kiss on your soft lips to finish it off. Your sweet laughter was music to his ears, he'd do anything to be able to hear it for the rest of his life.

"Now, how's this fair?" He spoke loudly, faking anger as he gently snatched the fortune teller from your hands. "Does it work for me to? Can I get kisses? Or... maybe only the princess gets kisses... No kisses for a lowly peasant like myself." He sighed dramatically and you giggled. He couldn't force the smile off of his face.

  You gently shook his wrist with your hand, "C'mon! You can get kisses too." You leaned your head against his shoulder, waiting a beat for him to figure out how to move the paper properly.

  "Pink!" "Three!" "Five!"

  Eddie leaned forward just slightly, pressing his chest into your side as he flipped up the paper. "Looks like... you owe me thirty kisses!" He exclaimed and placed the fortune teller on the table.

  You rolled your eyes and giggled, "That's not what it looks like- that said six kisses, not thirty." You pouted and he pouted back, leaning closer and closer to you.

  "Pretty sure it said thirty baby... what, you don't wanna kiss me thirty times?" He brought a hand up, gripping his chest dramatically.

  You groaned, entirely pleased and kissed him hard. You gave him kisses on the lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and a couple on his neck, because you knew he liked that. You both smiled and you leaned your head against his, but all too soon your interaction was interrupted by Dustin gagging dramatically from his spot at the table.

  You pouted as you and Eddie turned to look at him. "Don't mind him baby, he's just jealous and lonely." Eddie rolled his eyes and gave you a big, loud kiss on your cheek.

  "Awe... I'm sorry Dustin. If you want you can use my fortune teller! You and Mike can give each other some kisses." You offered, so sweet and polite, seeming so kind that it was almost hard to tell you were joking. Eddie barked out a laugh, kissing you again. He loved watching the way your humour changed to become more like his.

✽-

  You yawned as you stretched out on your stomach, resting on Eddie's bed. You felt the mattress dip as he kneeled beside you. "Look, I got somethin' to show you." He spoke in a hushed tone. Excitedly, you sat up facing him, and smiled when you saw a new fortune teller in his hands. "I got Robin to show me how to make one, mines special too." He explained. You could tell by his face that he was up to something.

  There was a moment of silence, you and Eddie staring into each others eyes before you finally focused you're attention on the fortune teller. "Pink... Four... Seven." You watched Eddie move closer to you.

  "Hmm... you get to make out with me for five minutes." Eddie grinned wildly, holding up five fingers. He waited for you to smile back at him before he cupped your face, pulling you to meet his lips with your own.

It didn't take long before his tongue was pressing past your lips, Eddie's always been an eager kisser, and you loved being kissed by him. You hummed softly and he responded by moaning deeply into your mouth, the sound forcing heat to your core.

Five minutes went by fast. You were left with kiss bitting lips, slick with spit. Cheeks burning red, eyes glistening, and thighs pressing together. It didn't take much to get you there, excited and needy for your boyfriend. Eddie loved that about you.

Eddie sighed contentedly and gave you a free kiss on the cheek before he held up his fortune teller again. You squished your cheek against Eddie's shoulder. "Pink... three... one." You chewed your lip excitedly. '10 hickeys from Eddie' written in his nearly unreadable handwriting.

He smirked and placed the paper down, hand moving to the hem of your top where he pulled lightly. "Let's get this off of you pretty girl." He helped you take off your shirt, your bra followed quickly. A smile never left his face as he gently pushed you back against his pillows.

Normally, Eddie took his time working you up, placing kisses over every inch of your body that he could reach before he even thought about marking your skin. Today however, he jumped right into what the fortune teller told him to do, not wasting any time before he eagerly sucked a dark hickey onto the side of your throat.

  Like usual, he made a trail; three hickeys on the left side of your neck, one on your collarbone, one on your sternum. You weaved the fingers of your right hand through his hair as he began to kiss and suck the flesh of your right breast. He clearly enjoyed this just as much as you, soft hums against your skin and his evident boner pressing into your leg.

  Two hickeys on one breast and three on the other. You were breathing heavy, ready for him to just take you, just fill you up already. Your heart raced as he picked up the paper fortune teller again.

  "You know the drill baby." He smiled, his own cheeks flushed. It took you a moment to tear your eyes away from the bulge in his jeans and focus.

  "Blue... four... two."

  You watched intently as he flipped the paper up and read it to himself, an intimidating smirk growing on his face. "Get those shorts of baby- panties too."

  Immediately, you through your shorts and panties off of yourself and to the ground, resting back against the pillows. You wanted Eddie in you so bad, you couldn't wait.

  It took a second before you registered the fact that Eddie hadn't taken off any of his own clothes. By then, he was already on his stomach between your legs, licking a long stripe through your folds and stopping to lick at your clit.

  You moaned loudly, back arching and hands gripping Eddie's sheets beneath you. You hadn't expected him to eat you out, you'd expected him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you. But this, you were more than happy with this.

  Eddie spread your lips apart, admiring your wet cunt for a moment before he dove in, tongue driving inside of you. You whimpered loudly, pressing back against his face. His nose bumped against your clit over and over again and it was perfect, Eddie was always so talented at pleasing you with his mouth.

  "Feels s'good." You praised him and he moaned in response, trying to press himself closer to you if that was even possible. It felt so good as he fucked you with his tongue, your thighs shook on either side of his head. He moaned in response to every sound you let out and it shook your core. He always enjoyed giving you head just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.

  You could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building up, but you needed more attention on your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled up gently. Of course he understood immediately what you wanted and he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly.

  The mattress underneath you creaked as you writhed in pleasure, hand still tugging on Eddie's hair. You were pulling moans from him that tortured your sensitive clit and had your orgasm hurtling to you. "Eddie- god, Eddie please- gonna cum." You warned him, voice watery and desperate.

  He hummed in approval and that was that, your back arching incredibly high and your throat straining as you moaned loud enough that his neighbours could probably hear you. He kept licking you through your orgasm, then gentle kisses on your thighs and pussy as you came down from your high. "Thank you." You nearly whispered.

  "You are ever so welcome." Eddie grinned at you, moving to his knees as he wiped his mouth and chin off on his sleeve, cleaning his face of your juices. 

  You sat up slightly as he picked up the fortune teller again, you just wanted him to fuck you so bad. "Please, Eddie I jus' need you, need you in me so so bad." Your voice was thick with need, tears threatening your eyes.

  He smirked cockily at you, even though he wanted the same thing. "C'mon baby." He pointed the fortune teller, prompting you to pick a colour.

  "Uh, pink, two, um...-" You looked up at Eddie pleadingly.

  Eddie took sympathy on you, his sweet baby. "Out of curiosity." He started. "What's five plus three? I know you know, my smart girl."

  You smiled thankfully, excitedly. "Eight!" You started to sit up further but he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you so you were laying back fully, you giggled.

  He flipped the paper up. "Hmm... seems like you're gonna get to cum on my cock after all." He tossed the paper beside you, watching hungrily as he stripped himself of his clothes.

  He wasn't taking his time and neither did you; you were both just desperate for one another. You were already so wet, and he did a good job getting you ready with his mouth, so neither of you were surprised when his cock slid inside you with no reluctance.

  You moaned, arms reaching around Eddie to hold him closer to you, nails digging into his shoulders. It only spurred him on even more, moaning into your neck as he fucked you as fast as he could.

  He'd been hard since making out, and he was about to blow his load embarrassingly soon. He sucked on the skin of your neck, already marked up from earlier, and reached a shaky hand down to your clit. The broken moan you let out almost had him cumming in you right then and there.

  "Eddie-" you moaned his name, resting your head against his as you arched your back, tits pressing against his chest. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, he could feel you clenching around him repeatedly, he knew you were close.

  "Come on doll, cum for me, wanna feel you soak my cock, come on, c'mon-" you cut him off with a loud moan, close to a scream as you came, nails dragging down his back.

  Hearing you cum and feeling you claw up his back was enough to trigger his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy as the dam broke, cock twitching inside you.

  You whimpered as you felt the warm sensation of him cumming inside you, filling you up. He kept fucking you, through your orgasm and his own. You felt some of his cum drip out of you and he watched as he fucked it back inside, making sure not a drop was wasted.

  He stopped before either of you got too overstimulated, hovering over you, forehead pressed to the pillow next to your head. "Did so good baby." He kissed your cheek and you smiled, stroking his back gently.

  "Gonna help me make another fortune teller later? We squished this one..." he laughed and you did too. Of course you would agree.

[iinsertblognamee]

the streets of barcelona

summary; yn foord and alexia putellas meet

spanish | english translation

"You got everything packed?"

A small nod was all you responded back to your sister, as you let yourself get one last look at your shared apartment. The room looked practically the same from a simple glance, the discoloured paint on the walls mixed with the old posters you had found at a garage sale when you first moved in. The kitchen sink holds the dirty plates from breakfast, alongside the empty wine glasses from last night's celebrations.

You let yourself study the room further, the missing objects standing out to you like a sore thumb, the rooms somehow seeming bare without all your personal items that were now packed away and about halfway towards your new apartment.

Your eye caught Caitlin's at the last second, a small frown appearing on her lips, her eyes still red from last night. It doesn't take long for her eyes to well up once again, her bottom lip wobbling.

The distance between you two becomes extinct in an instant, as your arms wrap around each other. Your grips are so tight that neither of you can't make it if it's you or the younger woman who is shaking, but you don't dare to let go. Your lips press kisses in her hairline, as you mumble 'It's going to be okay' mixed with 'You're gonna be okay'.

It couldn't have been a few minutes before the timer on your phone filled the silence, Cailtin tenses in your embrace, before sniffling.

You give yourself one last squeeze, before pulling away. Bringing your hand up to Caitlin's cheek to wipe away her tears.

You had both said your official goodbyes last night, hoping to avoid all of this, this morning.

"I'm gonna miss you chicky" She sent you a small smile at the nickname, before grabbing your suitcase from the front door as you grabbed your passport and plane ticket.

You had arranged a pickup service to take you to the airport, wanting a few moments before you were thrown into the madness that was about to come. As excited as you were, you couldn't deny the anxiety that followed. The idea of a new team was always nerve-racking, but the added stress of moving to a country with no one you know, as well as speaking very little Spanish was keeping you on edge.

The driver met you at the steps of your apartment, taking the suitcase off your sister, as she pulled you into one last hug, squeezing you extra tight before letting go - a small wave and a 'good luck' and then she was gone.

The car ride over was nerve-racking, your knee bouncing as you watched the houses outside go by. The traffic was decent enough, the sun shining down on the airport as you thanked the driver once more, before making your way through the entry.

You gave one last look outside, taking in the sunny London that you had called home for the past three years, the crumbling thought finally hitting you.

London was no longer home.

―

The sight of Barcelona was a sight for sore eyes, your suitcase trailing behind as you attempted to move around the groups of people surrounding the waiting bay.

You had been contacted by the management team a few days prior organising a driver to pick you up from the airport and take you to your new apartment, figuring the last thing you needed was to get lost on your first day in Barcelona.

You looked out for the number plate you had memorised, walking past car after car - apologising to the people you bumped into along the way. It would have been one of the last cars parked on the strip, a woman dressed in familiar colours, sitting on the hood with her arms crossed.

She had thick sunglasses on, dark so you couldn't tell if she was watching you or not but as you got closer, her attention seemed to shift from the skyline to you. Her arms don't uncross, as she stands up - her head visibly looking you up and down before a calm, but detached look appeared on her face.

"Miss Foord?"

"Sí-" 'Yes'. You blame the flight for the way your voice cracks, coughing a little before nodding your head "Yes, yes. sorry." She nods her head but doesn't add anything else, opening the back door for you before taking the suitcase out of your hand and walking towards the boot.

The awkwardness doesn't help your beating heart, wiping your palms on your track pants before dipping your way into the car. Making sure to close the door behind you.

The lady makes her way into the front of the car a few seconds later. The radio plays softly in the background, your attention glued out your window as you watched the city fly by - attempting to remember every street sign and building you see.

"¿Cómo estuvo tu vuelo?". 'How was your flight?'.

Your head whips right around, the lady looking towards the road, you almost think you might have imagined she spoke, your mouth opening before closing again.

The silence fills the space in an instant, a frown appearing on your lips. The car comes to a stop at the lights, the driver turning her head towards you with a look on her face that you take as confusion.

"Uh. Lo sien" 'uh. I'm sorry'. The sudden realisation that you have no idea what she's asked, and now you can't even remember the basic Spanish you taught yourself since the transfer was confirmed. "Uh no. no entiendo?". 'uh no. I don't understand'. You wince at your attempt, the confusion clear in your voice as the driver tilts her head a little before turning her attention back to the road.

"How was the flight?" Her English is a hundred times better than your Spanish, Her voice seems softer in English, not as deep.

"Good. Uh. Buena. It was Buena. Fast, Which is always good" 'good'. your attempt to bring some Spanish into the conversation isn't missed by the driver, her lips curling into a small smirk before disappearing almost as fast.

"Sí, eso es bueno" 'Yes that is good'. As limited as your Spanish knowledge may run, you pick up 'yes' and 'good', nodding your head with a small smile as she catches your gaze in the rear mirror.

Feeling a little more confident, you give yourself a few seconds to think up what other Spanish you have learnt before attempting to start up a conversation again.

"What's uh, um. ¿Su nombre?" 'Your name?'

"Camila"

"Camila" You repeat, looking out the window again.

"I help get the transfers settled" She adds, turning a corner before catching your gaze in the rear mirror once again. "It's a beautiful place but can be very daunting".

"Sí. Sí" 'yes. yes'. You agree before adding "But very exciting. My, um, my hermana is very jealous" 'sister'.

"¿Tienes una hermana?" 'you have a sister?'. She catches herself before you can ask, "You have a sister?"

"Sí. Sí. A younger sister. She's a footballer too" 'yes. yes'.

"Maravillosa. Maravillosa. Wonderful". 'wonderful. wonderful'.

Before you could respond, the car came to a stop - your attention pulled away from Camila and out towards the modern building.

You recognised it in an instant, the many photos and emails that you and management had been exchanging over the past couple of months came down to this.

"Hogar dulce hogar" 'home sweet home'. You couldn't find yourself asking what Camila had said, too engrossed with the building in front of you, it seemed bigger than in the pictures, prettier too.

You take a deep breath in, glancing at the building once more before taking a deep breath and opening the car door.

"Welcome Home" and for once you wished Camila had spoken in Spanish so you wouldn't understand what she had just said.

―

Camila didn't stay for too long, handing over your keys and helping you bring up your suitcase, she had written her contact details on a piece of paper that was left on your kitchen bench. Explained that she would be back tomorrow to bring you to training and then left.

Your furniture had arrived before you had, placed through the apartment alongside all your boxes. If you hadn't been so emotionally drained for the past 24 hours you probably would have attempted to start unpacking but your hunger won this round, and with some newfound confidence you decided to check out the supermarket that was just down the street.

The walk was nice enough, a slight breeze filling the streets as people passed by.

Getting to your destination, 'tienda de comestibles' 'grocery'. written out the front, buckets of fresh fruit outside brought a smile to your face before walking in. The smell of many different flavours fills the air, and two children giggling and chasing each other almost run into you, before quickly yelling out 'Lo lamento' 'sorry'. You only smile and shake your head, taking yourself further through the store.

You pick out some cold meats, before grabbing yourself a couple of bread rolls, a small jar of pesto and a chocolate bar. Making your way towards the checkout, your attention purely on grabbing some notes out of your wallet, before slamming into a body.

"¿Adónde vas?!" 'Where are you going?!'.

Your head snaps up, an apology on the tip of your tongue, before sucking your breath in, her eyes widening as they meet yours.

Your brain seems to short-circuit, working overtime to say something, anything. Your limited knowledge of Spanish has completely gone, your mouth opening and closing before you practically choke out

"La Reina" 'the queen'.

You feel the heat rush through your cheeks instantly as your eyes widen.

"Como me llamaste?" 'what did you call me?'. she choked out, her cheeks almost matching yours. You take a step back, suddenly realising just how close the two of you were to each other.

"I am so sorry. lo lamento. lo lamento" 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry'. You splatter out, taking a few more steps back, attempting to get away as fast as possible but a hand stops you. Her hand.

"Ey. No hay necesidad de disculparse" 'hey. there's no need to apologise'.

Her words are missed by you, although her eyes soften - your confusion clear as you try to think about to all those Spanish classes you took. Concentration seemed to be your biggest fault at the moment, especially with the way she was looking at you.

"Don't apologise" Her voice was softer that you almost missed what she was saying, her hand rubbing your arm distracted you once again.

"Sorry," you reply, your cheeks heating up further as she lets out a small laugh, shaking her head with a smile on her lips. "Tan linda" 'so cute'. she mumbles, but you manage to catch it with how close you are once again.

"I-I don't know what that means" you mumble back.

Her cheeks heat up once again, her eyes suddenly interested in anything but yours.

She shakes her head, before her gaze catches yours once more, dropping down to your lips and then back up. She goes to say something else before a cough brings you both back, a mother with a baby on her hip looking at the pair of you with annoyance.

"Estoy tratando de pasar" 'I'm trying to get through'. Her voice is sharp, the footballer in front of you moving you both out of her way, a small "Lo lamento" 'sorry'. leaving her lips, as the woman just scoffs and walks past the pair of us.

The silence fills the space instantly, your eyes finding hers once again. The moment is gone, as you bite your lip - unsure what to say next.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall creates a chain reaction, a yawn leaving your lips as the events of the past twenty-four hours finally catch up to you.

You bring your hand over your mouth, yawning once again.

"Perdóname" 'forgive me'.

The Spanish leaving your lips brings a smile to her face once again, her eyes lighting up.

"¿tú hablas español?" 'you speak spanish?'. Her voice light, a small laugh finishing the question off.

"un poco. aunque no muy bueno" 'a bit. although not very good'. You struggle a little, your pronunciation not perfect, but the smile on her face as her eyes watch your hand indicate 'a little bit' is enough to bring a smile back to your face.

"It's okay, I'll teach you" Her switch to English surprises you, her voice lighter than her native tongue. Your excitement at the thought fills, your eyes widening at the thought, "Really?"

"sí, claro. sería un honor para mí" 'yes of course. It would be an honour for me'. You catch enough of the sentence to understand she's true to her offer.

"Thank you, Alexia"

"No hay problema mi amor" 'no problem my love'.

The blush that attacks your cheeks at the sound of 'amor' 'love'. coming off her lips only widens her smile.

She vowed for that day on, she would always call you 'mi amor' 'my love'.

[cruciatusforeplay]

Map Of Whickber Street (Good Omens Soho around the bookshop)

I had a lot of fun watching the entire series again and working out where all the shops were in relation to one another. Some of these are mentioned in canon, some are just shown. I've taken some liberties with scale and the like. It wasn't clear which of these streets is Whickber Street, but I suppose there must be some mystery left in the world.

I'm adding some photo references and some more information about the various shops below the cut. If you can make out any more names, I'd love to know.

It's possible the deli is also part of Francesco's as they're both Italian, but there is a front door by the awning that could lead to the restaurant (not an unusual set up for Soho). Francesco's awning is the victim of Crowley's rainstorm.

Between Francesco's and Give Me Coffee is a shop selling formal menswear that I couldn't make out the name of.

Next to that is the coffee shop, Arnold's (the musical instruments shop), Marguerite's (the French restaurant), and newsagency (the news agents). We get a lovely shot of them from the upstairs of the bookshop (newsagents just barely visible).

Opposite them, we obviously have the bookshop itself and down from that, the record shop (which is called The Small Back Room, presumably in reference to having started at the back of Aziraphale's bookshop). The record shop is the orange shop you can see below. (There's also a clearer view of the newsagents).

The shop one down from the record shop is currently a question mark, but it does have a very bold colour scheme, and at one point we are a candelabra and a piece of fabric in the window display. I can't make out the name of this one either.

Opposite the bookshop we have the pub, the Dirty Donkey, whose front door is also the lift to heaven when summoned. Next to the pub is the doorway that leads you to the brothel (I picked the colour on the map from the new model friendly hands sign on the door), and next to that is Will Goldstone's Magic Shop. The magic shop, bookshop and the pub can also be seen in 1941 London flashbacks. Opposite the magic shop and next to the bookshop is another unknown shop. My gut says it sells lighting or maybe more general electrics, but I couldn't get a good enough shot to really see it.

At the end of this street we can see the Lucky Snake which I believe is a Chinese Restaurant, and just to the left we can glimpse a yellow shop, that I suspect is the herbalist that we see mentioned on Aziraphale's list of local businesses. Soho and Chinatown are geographical neighbours, and it's not uncommon to see Chinese herbalist or health shops in Soho. The red lanterns from the Lucky Snake continue down over the yellow shop, which is what gave me the impression it might be the herbalist.

Directly across the crossroads from the bookshop we have a fruit and vegetable market, that has a flower stand on the corner. That's where the tomatoes roll from when Gabe is walking through naked. (The veggies are obscured in the shot below, but we do see them in general)

If we follow the road between the flower market and the newsagents, I've extrapolated that the stage entrance to The Windmill (the theatre that we see in 1941) is there. We get a moderately clear view of it during the flashback, and the Windmill is a real place (to my knowledge it's somewhere between a burlesque club and a strip club these days), so I figured it would still be standing here too. We get the briefest of glimpses of the stage door still standing in modern London.

If you care for real world geography, then The Windmill's main entrance is on Great Windmill Street, right off Shaftesbury Avenue, on the corner of Archer Street.

I could not for the life of me find Brown's World of Carpets anywhere. Maybe he's not even actually a local business. He seems the type to fake it.

Here's a view of the area from heaven.

[blueaetherr]

can i request a jude bellingham fluffy where you guys go on holiday together and he admits how inlove he is w you <3 thankss

her

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where jude admits that he likes her

"Can you hear it?" Her eyes were wide, happy and hopeful as she witnessed her friend indulge in her interests. "Make sure you're listening closely."

Chuckling, Jude glanced between Y/N and the large seashell in his grasp. She wanted him to hear the sea in the seashell, and he still had yet to reach her hope. "Yeah, sure, I guess," he said, adjusting the seashell by his ear. "but isn't that only because we're at the beach?" In truth, he didn't understand Y/N's interests in the beach and its resources to the fullest. They were intriguing and fun and insightful. But personally, they weren't suited for his personality. That's just how it was. 

Nonetheless, he would always try to indulge in her interests as much as possible. The ones out of this world, the ones that interfered with his school education, the ones that had him tilting his head, whether in fascination or timid confusion. Her interests– those interests– all had a common factor that pulled Jude closer to them—they all related back to Y/N, and she was his no. 1 interest.

"Fair enough. You don't get it though," she said, carefully taking back the seashell from Jude. Letting her fingers run through the cracks and curves of the shell, her sight fell on the beach view in front of them. From there, she exhaled and relaxed, soothed in her place in the sand.

Heading down to the beach was an obvious destination during their little holiday. As its figure and appearance were visible from her hotel room, Y/N couldn't resist asking her friends to go down every passing day they were there. For her love for the beach was whole; its waves, sand and colours meshed so well to make a body so broad and beautiful. The beach, the holiday or your local one, was just something she adored and loved openly for everyone to recognise, from a stranger to Jude.

She was always very much in her element down by the beach, comfortable. And always did it do good for her too. When she runs through the sand, she felt free with each step she took. She seemed to always be standing in the right spot, grace between her and the sun as it shone in her face, the wind blowing through her sundress. It had Y/N smiling and laughing galore, way more than Jude ever could. The way the beach adored and appreciated Y/N, Jude did too.

And sometimes Jude had to let himself fall into the moment with the beach. For his enjoyment, sure, but for Y/N especially. It was her favourite destination after all. When he found seashells, he would stop and give them to her. When he found unusual rocks, he would stop and give them to her. When the waves came crashing in a bit too close, he would pull her into the water, and they would splash and scream and simply have fun.

'Cause after all, the beach was her home, her sanctuary. And Jude wanted to be a part of that. Her smiles, her laughter, her feeling of belonging and acceptance—he wanted to the reason for all of that too.

"It's a shame the girls and the guys aren't here with us," she said, moving her hands through the sand. She turned her head, letting her sight fall on Jude. "They would've enjoyed it all." The two came on holiday with their friend group, but they haven't actually spent much time altogether. For the most part, it was Y/N, Jude and the beach.

He couldn't keep his sight on her for too long (he wished he could), so he turned his eyes outward to the waves crashing into one another, over and over again. "Yeah, it is." His nerves began to flare up, not only for Y/N's longing glance at him but also for other reasons.  

His liking for his dear friend Y/N was so evident to their friends. They thought their little holiday together was the perfect opportunity for Jude to let Y/N know everything she remained blind to. So every moment the two were alone, every time their friends decided to go away and accidentally not invite them was a chance for Jude to let Y/N know how he felt about her, to ask her out. Yet for the few days they were on holiday, he had missed every single chance. 

Every time they were with their friends and he was given the floor, Jude would freeze up, cave in and pass the conversation on to someone else. Every time the two were alone and Y/N was doing something, anything—from smiling to complimenting his choice of attire—he would find himself frozen once again, and let Y/N drive the conversation, only smiling, nodding and shying timidly at his cheeks heating up (not that Y/N ever noticed).

So many missed chances that it was becoming embarrassing at this point.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Yes, Jude?"

There were times when Jude thought that whatever he was feeling for Y/N was just a little crush, a minimal feeling in his heart and mind that had him acting up. In heart and spirit, she was beautiful and genuine and ideal, overall everything to be honest. What kind of guy, or any person for that matter, would not like her to some degree beyond friendship? In his eyes, she was the living proof of perfection. The possibility of having a crush on her had to be there.

But you see, it was the simple things that had Jude so, so trouble around Y/N.

Turning away from the waves, Jude met her eyes. Suddenly, like every other missed chance, he found himself getting lost in her eyes, irises filled with kindness and truth. She had butterflies swarming wild in his stomach, so much that he might just fly away. When she spoke, he could no longer speak, finding himself stumbling on his words. When she spoke about the sea and its wonders, her interests became his. When she was in the room and the focus wasn't even on her, his focus would fall on her.

He wanted to include her in everything he was doing. Like I said, it was in his eyes that she was the living proof of perfection. In many ways and more, she was sweet and sound, and Jude wanted all of her for himself.

"Yes, Jude?" Y/N's face fell upon lack of response. She began waving her hand in his face. "Hello? Jude—"

"I like you?" Jude's eyes widened, surprised. He didn't actually believe he would take this chance.

Y/N mumbled a small oh as her face slowly contorted. She had to stop and think well. She didn't know how a discussion regarding their friends came down to confessing feelings. "Was that a statement or a question? 'Cause I'm getting a bit of both."

At first, Jude was hesitant to move forward, to approach Y/N so vulnerable and raw. He thought maybe he could backtrack and explain what he had said was a mistake. But who knew when he would have the heart to remain calm and secure in his feelings for Y/N? So he continued, inhaling a deep breath. "I like you, like, a lot I guess." And that was all he had to say. She already had him stumbling on his words just by the sight of her. Jude was afraid his line of thought wouldn't agree with what he wanted to say. 

Still, he wasn't done.

Holding out his hand, a sincere look graced his face. From the few, few words he managed to speak– minimal words holding much meaning– he hoped it was all enough to convey his message to his dear friend. 

personally, i think you're the coolest person there is. like, so cool. someone so unimaginably cool for the average guy like me. someone beautiful and intelligent and vibrant, so much you got scales unbalanced and breaking—you just can't be handled, can you? and i know we're friends, i know. best friends—and i love that, i really do. but i want to be so much more with you. if that's what you want too, of course... also, i don't know if i made it clear but i like you, y/n.

so what's it going to be then?

Maybe that was a bit delusional of Jude to think, believing she would understand what he was trying to say. He was so internal, so timid with his feelings for her, how could she ever catch wind of that if he lacked the confidence to display them?

Whether she knew what he was thinking about or she was just smart like that (Jude would totally believe that), Y/N reacted the way Jude hoped for. Glancing between Jude and his hand, she smiled to herself before placing her hand into his. And it was there that Jude became so relieved, so happy that he couldn't hold back as he took Y/N in his arms, hugging her like she was going to run away if he ever let go.

But his enthusiasm came with so much more reason. Soon, his happiness was her happiness. The consent he got when he asked to kiss her had her smiling. His words regarding the sea and its wonders had her laughing galore. His display of affection towards her, the way he soon began to hold her with care, the way their fingers were perfectly interlinked had her feeling like she belonged—in her environment and with Jude.

Jude hummed, so happy with himself and for Y/N, as the two watched the sun fall into the sky, hands having yet to break apart. And just like that, just like the beach, he was the reason for her smiles, her laughter and her feelings of belonging and acceptance. That's all he wanted for her, the absolute best. 

[smusherina]

the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions) - chapter 2 (wenclair)

fandom: Wednesday (2022), Addams Family (all media)

pairing: (romantic) Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (platonic) OFC/Reader x Wenclair

summary: You'd been keeping an eye out for Enid Sinclair since freshman year. There'd been a silent camaraderie between you, both sitting in the very back of the room during Furs specific classes. Things changed, though, after Wednesday Addams came around. For one, Enid shifted.

additional clarification: Wednesday and Enid have an established relationship. Story follows the POV of an outsider.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands fiddling with the clicker as you tried to look for anything amiss. The sheet was set up on the wall, the projector was powered up and ready to go, the cushions were on the ground, and the additional reading material and the pamphlet you'd printed out were all there. You hadn't wanted to be presumptuous, so you hadn't gotten any snacks. Well, you'd gotten them, in case they asked. They were stashed in your cupboard space. But you didn't want to seem weird or too eager, or something.

You weren't sure if this was more of a casual hangout with a slideshow, or just a purely academic pursuit. You couldn't even say which was preferable. You wanted friends, but the journey of making them seemed so stressful.

As it was the weekend, you were out of uniform. You'd contemplated just wearing it to save you the trouble of having to pick out an outfit, but in the end, even a shitty outfit seemed less weird than the stiff school uniform. All of your clothes were hand-me-downs and thrifted, not in the trendy way, so you'd put some real effort into looking presentable.

You had on the best pants you owned, a pair of black trousers that were only slightly too big on you. You'd cuffed them yourself and were pretty proud of your handiwork. Because they were black, the slightly uneven stitching wasn't even that noticeable. You'd put on your cleanest tee shirt, a grey one with an old Autoshop logo on the front. It was a bit worn, the logo chipping away, but it had no visible stains.

You inspected your glasses, squinting your eyes. You held them up in the light. You wiped at the lenses with the hem of your shirt. No smudges, please.

The specs almost clattered to the ground when somebody knocked on your door. You shoved them back onto your nose and rushed to the door.

"Hi!" Enid chirped, dressed as colourfully as ever and with Wednesday in tow.

"Hello," You said and opened the door wider for them. "Please, come in."

"I'm so excited! I've never heard of different types of werewolves!" Oh, Enid, she was so pure. You could only smile, feeling a little dread already. The subject was pretty darn bleak.

"I'm curious as to how the nature of lycans differs from that of werewolves." Wednesday's sharp eyes caught yours. "Is this seating for us?" She pointed down at the cushions.

"Yeah! I figured the floor cushions would be more comfy than the chairs. One of you can borrow my desk chair, if you'd rather do that. I, um, I heard you're allergic to, uh, colour, Wednesday, so I put a black towel on it." You motioned to the floor, walking to your spot next to the white sheet. "If that's okay."

"Hmm," Wednesday said nothing as she primly sunk onto the towel-covered cushion. Wordlessly, she dug into her bag and pulled out a little notebook along with a fountain pen. Alright. So, she was all good.

You turned to Enid, who was looking at you with a quizzical look on her face.

"Would- would you like some water or something?" You'd never played host before. You hoped you were doing alright.

"Thanks, but we're good. We might go grab a bite to eat later, though. You should come with!" Enid said as she settled down next to Wednesday.

Oh. My. Gosh. More hanging out. You hadn't even proved yourself to be okay company yet. Enid's generosity really knew no bounds.

"Yeah!" Your voice cracked. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds great." You gave a jerky thumbs-up. Internally, you berated yourself for being so uncool.

Better to start now and breeze over your disastrous handling of social interaction. You flicked the lights off, save for the little lamp on the floor next to the cushions. So they'd see to take notes. You'd really thought of everything.

Clicking to show the first slide, you pointed between the two figures of anthropomorphic wolves standing somewhat upright. One was ragged and frothing at the mouth, bigger in stature, and sported a generally mangy appearance. The other had a smoother coat, looked perfectly calm, and had a more hunched back.

"This one," You stopped on the mangy-looking wolf. "Is a lycan. That one," You went back to the tamer-looking wolf. "Is a werewolf. I'm first gonna touch on some general stuff, like history, then what the specific differences are, then why those differences exist, and then I'll talk a little more about, uh, the social aspects."

Your two pupils nodded along. One did so enthusiastically, her head bobbing up and down rapidly, and the other nodded so minutely you wouldn't have caught if you weren't focusing on their reactions like a hawk. Swallowing, you gathered every smidge of confidence you could find and got on with it.

"Werewolves came first. Technically. It's a little unclear as to how they came to be as there's little written history. Different communities and old packs all have their stories, mythology passed along from generation to generation. It could be a curse, a blessing, an omen." You clicked to the next slide, where there were some specific origin stories. "For example, the O'Brien pack-"

"My dad's surname was O'Brien!" Enid perked up.

"It's likely he used to be a member! Where is he from?"

"He's originally from Northern Michigan."

"Oh, there you go. It's very likely he's the current alpha's son or grandson, depending on how old he is. He's probably got a more submissive temperament, which is why he took your mother's name." Oh no, you shouldn't assume her parents were married. "Or why you got her name."

"Yeah, he took her name. I thought they did that just 'cause..." Enid murmured.

"I... I don't know your family's specific traditions. It's just, uh, it's common for wolves to take the more dominant partner's surname when getting married." You glanced between them. Wednesday was writing down notes, eyes honed in on the projection. Enid looked at her girlfriend, biting her lip. You decided to continue.

"Um, so... The O'Brien pack is largely credited for bringing the monotheistic belief in the moon goddess over to the States in the 1800s. There's a lot of bloody, violent history in the conflict between native werewolves and settler werewolves, just as with humans- or normies, whichever term applies. I'm sure you two are familiar with that aspect of history, so I won't go into detail. Um." You checked to see if they were still on board.

"Question?" Enid asked, raising her hand tentatively.

"Yeah, go for it!" You fiddled with the clicker anxiously.

"My family believes in the Greek pantheon, specifically Selene." Enid scratched at her cheek. "How's that tie in with everything?"

"Oh yes, so basically werewolf religion can be split into two baseline camps, so to speak. Camp One consists of worshippers of a singular moon goddess and Camp Two is a belief in spirituality and natural forces. Within these camps are kind of sub-groups. For example, werewolves of Irish origin tend to believe in Irish mythology and, in turn, those of Greek origin believe in Greek mythology." You beamed, happy to answer her question. "Of course, in some cases, ancestry has nothing to do with anything, since culture and religion spread through people, not blood."

"I don't think we have Greek ancestry..." Enid muttered. "Maybe? I'm gonna have to ask."

"It's possible you don't, 'cause there was a uh, a trend in the 1950s that led to a lot of spiritually aligned werewolves converting to Selene." You shrugged. "Could be either way."

Enid also shrugged.

"So, uh, factually and scientifically, that's all, like... Wrong." You didn't know how else to put it. "Obviously, the point of religion is not to be correct, it is largely a comfort for people to believe in something greater than themselves, but there have been several, ill-received studies on exactly what werewolfism is."

"I assume this is not material that has been taught in your classes." Wednesday looked to Enid, who was gaping at the projection currently on a slide that had a picture of a DNA strand. "Why?"

"Well... I assume it's 'cause the teacher is a firm believer in werewolf creationism, which as a story is really convoluted and, just, impossible to summarize, so he doesn't spend much time teaching things he doesn't believe are true."

"That is..." Wednesday trailed off. "Alarming."

"I did file a complaint to Principal Weems during freshman year, but it didn't really go anywhere." You said meekly.

"I- I didn't know there was actual, I dunno, medical research on werewolves!" Enid blurted out, the words tumbling off her tongue.

"Fascinating, is it not?" You perked up. "Human doctors have done a fair bit of it, too! That's why werewolves can go to the hospital and get bloodwork done without being outed. Basically, all werewolves have a gene that makes it possible for them to shift forms. Studying it is hard, possibly due to some innate magical interference, not everything can be explained with science, but so far only werewolf researchers have been able to glean that this is, in fact, the source of their power. Humans have determined that the gene is responsible for some passive traits, such as a more efficient immune system, higher average body temp, and a faster metabolism.

"And this does bring us, finally, to the lycans. Lycans are humans subjected to the bite of a werewolf. It's been speculated that the werewolf gene is a mutation that evolved in response to exposure to the Lycan Infection over centuries. For the body to sustain the transformation, it needed to change, get stronger. Survival of the fittest with some supernatural road blocking, the results were remarkably successful."

"The Lycan Infection?" Wednesday uttered, looking up from her notebook to stare at you. You shivered, a chill travelling up your arms to your neck.

"Yes- yes, um, that's... The Lycan Infection is what made the majority of werewolves today. That's what the pathogen is called. It's unclear where it originated and how exactly it came to be." You clicked through a few slides. "There are some records of werewolves before the infection, but by no means enough to determine population numbers or anything substantial."

"So, we're all sick?" Enid asked, sounding downtrodden.

"Well, no, not really." You said, prompting her to tilt her head. She was precious. "Werewolves only carry it passively. Only lycans are, well, sick." You pursed your lips.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Enid said, eyes all sad and lips pouty.

"No! No, there's no need to be sorry! I like being a lycan." For the most part, you left unsaid. "It's totally fine."

"You were bitten, yes?" Wednesday asked poignantly.

"Wednesday!" Enid hissed, hitting her on the arm. Wednesday was unfazed, eyes locked onto yours.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly, trying to keep calm. "I was eight."

There was an awkward pause.

"Um! That happened, but I'm so fine right now. So fine. Nothing is wrong. Like, ever." You tapped your hands together. "So, lycans."

The lesson continued. Lycans looked like that 'cause the pathogen intercepted the growth of fur, caused an over-production of mucus and saliva, and accelerated nail growth. Due to lycans missing the werewolf gene, they retained more human features during the shift whereas werewolves could pass as normal wolves for a second, though only for a second. The absence of the gene also caused transformations to be more painful, a lack of mental agency in wolf form, and added stress to joints and ligaments.

"Yeah, lycans have a life expectancy of about thirty-five to forty-"

"You're- you're expected to die at forty?" Enid screeched. "At the latest?"

"Yeah?" You tilted your head to the side. "Y'know, it's been on the rise for the last ten years! It used to be thirty to thirty-five!"

You kept talking, kept showing slides, and Enid continued to be stunned, Wednesday remaining passive. Lycans were shunned from werewolf communities, generally denied access to packs and werewolf-specific health centres, and more often than not infertile. Lycans, due to their uncontrolled nature, were unable to form structured packs or support systems, leading to isolation and loneliness or unstable, abusive psedo-packs. Due to these issues, the most perpetuated stereotypes of lycans were that they were involved in street gangs, did drugs, and resorted to violence easily.

By the end of it, Enid was pretty much holding back tears. You'd fucked up. This was a mistake. You should've kept her ignorant. What would she even do with all this info? It wasn't like any of this was actually useful. The textbook section about lycans was basically cautions and warnings to stay the eff away.

"That's so tragic. You're just ill, is all. You need help, not exile." Enid sniffled. She wasn't quite crying, but her eyes were welling up. Wednesday was even holding her hand. You knew the goth didn't like touch, so that was probably a huge deal.

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say. You sat down on the floor in front of them, feeling uncomfortable standing while they sat. You shuffled your weight, trying to think of something to make this better.

"You def have to join my pack. I've been looking for people to run with and I thought to ask you first since we've been sitting together for so long."

"Um." Thing was, you would've loved to. You'd have really loved to run with her. "I- uh, there's a great possibility I'd try to hurt you. And besides, I'm not allowed out on full moons."

Werewolves had the added benefit of not needing to shift much aside from when the moon was full. If you wanted to not be in utter agony, you needed to shift at least once a day. You had an allotted free period every weekday so you could go for a run on the grounds.

So, even if you could technically both run as wolves at the same time, Enid only really had reason to shift during full moons, conveniently the only time you'd be unable to join her. Fate was playing tricks on you, dangling a treat just above your nose. You felt like a dog with a piece of cheese on its nose, being told to wait, wait, wait.

"We could break you out." Wednesday pointed out. "I need to investigate the broken cage either way."

"Yeah! And I beat a hyde! No offence, but I could handle you."

How to say yes without sounding too excited by the prospect? How to quell a sense of foreboding doom, because there was a possibility, however small, that you too had beat a hyde?

You wanted to run with her. You wanted to be in her pack. You wanted, you wanted, you'd wanted for so long.

You were gonna do it.

"Sure. Yes! If- if you wanted to do that, you totally should! If you wanted to. And it wouldn't be too, uh, too complicated." You swallowed thickly, shrinking under their gazes. Both had such intense eyes. "And, um, just as a precaution, I could get some horse tranquillizer darts for Wednesday to have in case I get... Nasty. Just in case!"

Wednesday grinned. It was a terrifying expression. You couldn't look her in the eye. Cold sweat dampened your neck.

"Don't look so excited." Enid chastised her girlfriend and got up. "Aw, fuck, my knees." She whined, rubbing them. You got that. Your knees hurt, like, all the time. "Let's go eat!"

"Hm. Acceptable." Wednesday rose smoothly and deposited her pen and notebook back into her bag.

"Have fun," You waved.

"Oh, aren't you coming? I heard there's good dessert today." Enid, gracious soul, good heart, you'd never forget her kindness.

"I'll come! If you want!" You glanced at Wednesday. She didn't seem particularly offended by your presence, so you took that to mean you two were cool.

"Yeah!" Enid laughed a little, motioning for you to join them.

You skipped over to them, unable to hide the glee pouring off you. It would be fine. It would be so fine. It would be so fine that it'd actually be so unremarkable that after the fact you'd wonder what you'd even been so worried about.

It probably wasn't even you.

Taglist: [completely honest, i totally forgot about the taglist. adding it hours later lmao.] @screechcat, @filthy-sanvers-paws, @atticus-shits-n-giggles

[moonstruck-poet]

Most Ardently

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - hey! I hope you're doing good. I had a request for ben barnes. so the reader and ben (both actors) have been friends for a long time and ben always liked the reader but the reader was dating someone else. when they broke up ben was there to get through it and slowly the reader also realizes that she like ben too.

Warnings - heartbreak

I really hope you like it anon! So sorry for the wait and tysm for your amazing request<33

You were a dreamer, in search of your dream.

"Here! Look here please!" The numerous cameras flashed as you tried your best to look at every single one of them, smiling widely and hopefully striking a nice pose.

"I swear I'm gonna be blind till I'm 40," James spoke from beside you, tightening his hold on your waist.

You chuckled at his statement, "You'll have me with the similar condition beside you, don't you worry".

But the nervous smile he gave escaped your observant eyes as you were too busy paying attention to the reporters.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured and he nodded, following your lead as you moved to a much quieter and slightly less crowded area. "Much better now".

"Oh definitely," he leaned against a wall and you moved in closer, your hands travelling up to his shoulders as you gently kissed his cheek. "You were awesome out there, I don't think I can ever handle such attention".

"You get used to it with time," you smiled and your eyes caught movement making you turn to see your best friend walking towards you, hands in his pocket and a poker expression on his face.

"He probably hasn't even seen us yet," James said and you agreed.

"I'll just so and say hi to him quickly, yeah?" You excused yourself and he nodded immediately, taking a step back.

"Of course! Go on".

Your smile widened the closer you got to your best friend, taking in his gorgeous look. From the crisp white shirt tucked into ironed black trousers, and topped off with a similar blazer and tie, he looked sharp.

You noticed the exact moment his eyes caught yours amidst the many people and how they softened instantly, a warm glow spreading across his previously detached face. And your heart felt heavy and giddy as you quickly closed the gap.

"Hey!" You greeted first, an ecstatic grin on your face which he seemed to mirror.

"Hello," he replied simply, taking a tiny step closer as his obsidian eyes hungrily scanned your features.

They moved from your beautifully lined eyes, down to the blood-red colour of your lips and back again, seeing the sparkle in them that he longed for every single day. And involuntarily, he couldn't help but take another step towards you.

'Christ,' he whispered in his mind as his loving gaze caressed your figure. 'She's so beautiful,' he thought and an adoring, tiny smile was visible on his face.

The gorgeous dress that you wore just added more to your natural beauty, it was an off-shoulder gown that went down to your heels, making you look like a princess.

He was so taken with searching your face that he failed to process your words and you had to snap your fingers to jolt him back.

"Sorry what'd you say?" He shook his head slightly and focused on your speech.

A small frown was on your lips, "Are you okay? You seem a little closed off?"

"I.." He began, mind racing to find a suitable answer that could satisfy your concern, but at the same time he knew he couldn't get away with lying to you, you simply knew him too well for that.

"I'm tired," he said at last. Thinking that it was the safest reply he could give without telling on himself about his predicaments.

"Anything in particular?" You asked softly.

'Yes,' he wanted to say. 'You'. But of course he didn't. Rather, he couldn't.

"Just the stress of attending countless interviews, I guess. Haven't been able to get a proper rest in days".

You sighed sympathetically and brought him in a warm embrace, understanding that he needed it more than ever. Your hand instinctively ran through his soft hair, smoothing it down comfortingly.

Ben on the other hand felt as though he had reached heaven at your actions. He let out a deep sigh, feeling his tense shoulders lighten before wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You know you can talk to me about anything at any given point of time, right?" You asked softly, not pulling away.

"Mhmm," he mumbled, gripping you tighter without even realising it. He cherished such moments, knowing it was as close as he could ever come.

But then you backed off, making his heart sink a little. What was he even expecting? Of course you weren't going to let him be in your arms forever.

He was not yours.

And you were not his.

And he bit back the pain that slowly seeped into his soul like poison itself. His pleasant expression dropped at seeing James enter the conversation and step right beside you. He swallowed upon seeing the twinkle in your eye, the way they seemed to brighten the moment you spotted your boyfriend.

But little did he know, that sparkle was there whenever he came into your sight too.

"Having a good night so far, Ben?" James asked politely and extended his palm for a handshake.

The man in question shook himself out of his stupor and they shook hands, "Yes, everything's going quite well".

"Join us for dinner?" You asked with a smile while his hands watched the way yours intertwined with James and unknowingly his jaw clenched.

"Yeah you can invite some friends of yours too, we don't mind".

But Ben shook his head, "No I'll- I'll probably head home soon, you two go and enjoy," he gave a rather forced smile and you frowned.

"Ben?" You began, wanting to ask him exactly what was troubling his mind because you were certainly not satisfied with his previous answer.

But he interrupted you by stepping back with every word of his that he uttered next, "No no don't worry about me, you go out and dine in some fancy restaurant, maybe bribe James for your favorite ice-cream," he grinned, his lips feeling artificial as he did so.

===============================

It was a whirlwind of emotions in your brain at the moment, everything so scattered around that it was physically starting to hurt.

You should've seen it though, should've noticed the signs a lot earlier. Only if you hadn't been wearing a blindfold that was already stained red, too bad that your eyes were fully closed.

You were a stranger to breakups, never before having such a serious relationship with anyone. You had obviously heard all about them, but were yet to experience one. And you feared that you were bound to feel it for yourself soon enough.

James had been detatched from a long time, never initiating any moments of intimacy himself and always keeping it short whenever you were the one to start.

You cursed yourself, hating your idiotic, gullible mind so much for simply brushing it off, thinking maybe he was having a problem. Not once did you consider bringing it up because he was just so loving at times. But it was all platonic, something that you mistook for adoration instead.

But now that some force had finally knocked sense into you, you had at last brought up the inevitable topic. And it had led to the present situation.

There he was, the so called love of your life sitting right opposite you on the sofa, holding both of your hands in his and trying to break the news as gently as possible.

"I'm sorry," James whispered, bowing his head down. Probably to avoid looking at your disturbed features, you thought immediately.

"It's me who should be sorry," you apologised, not even understanding the reason for doing so. It just felt the right thing to do at the moment as your mind had gone completely blank.

"Hey no," he shut you instantly, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It- It's all me".

You nodded, your heart feeling numb now as you turned your gaze towards one of the photoframes decorating the wall. It was taken during your earlier dates with him. Gosh you looked so in love.

Your throat burned upon seeing the evident affection in not just yours, but his eyes too. But then, how could it diminish just like that Many answers crossed your mind, almost all of them pointing yourself out as the actual problem.

"Say something please," he urged, his voice filled with genuine sadness

"What am I supposed to say, James?" You chuckled lowly, "Other than the fact that I still love you with all of my heart?"

He winced, your words wedging into his chest, inflicting deep wounds. He wanted, or had atleast hoped it to be easier but who was he even kidding. Of course it was supposed to be difficult, you had loved each other for God's sake.

And how was someone expected to react when their partner told them, right to their face that, 'I don't love you anymore?'

"I'm so sorry, Christ I'm so sorry," he pressed his forehead against the back of your hand and you felt him crying.

And despite the terrible, devastating heartbreak, you still hated to see him cry. He was such a good man that despite his confessions, you still cared, as strongly as you had done before.

"It's not your fault, James," you said after gathering your thoughts. "I'm- I'm actually glad that you told me up front. No no I am-" you cut him off after seeing his disbelieving and ashamed expression.

"-You didn't cheat behind my back and instead opened up about being in love with someone else. And honestly? That would've shattered me," you whispered, giving him a small smile as if it wasn't hurting now.

"As if you're not shattered right now," he sniffed, wiping his cheeks and noticing your expression change.

"Are- Are you already talking to that person?" You changed the topic, sporting a poker face that perfectly hid the storm that was raging inside. Atleast there was some advantage in being an actress.

"Yeah," he said, fiddling with his hands. "We just talked though, nothing more I swear".

And you trusted him without a doubt, because you knew he would never ever do anything scandalous. He simply wasn't that type of a person. And that was one of the reasons that made you fall for him.

And now, that's one of the reasons that made you happy to have had fallen for him.

"Okay then, all the best for your life ahead," you muttered and shifted awkwardly. Feeling uncomfortable in your own home.

He hesitated, looking back and forth between his hands and trying to read your face before leaning in for a hug.

And despite wanting to push him away for the things he did, you merely wrapped your arms around him. Because aside from bring a great partner, he was also a fantastic friend.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against your hair. "I'm so so sorry, please forgive me if you find it in yourself to do so. You were my first love," he said with a soft smile. "And you made it so beautiful for me".

A nod was all you could give him as he pulled back and pressed a small kiss to your forehead and exiting your apartment.

You watched the door close, heard him enter the elevator and yet you didn't sit down. Instead your grabbed your jacket and a black baseball cap, pulling the hood over your head and stepping out with your phone in the pocket.

All you needed right now was a long long drive, you thought to yourself after getting inside your black Lamborghini.

But the minute the engine spurred on and you started driving, you had somehow, without any destination in your mind had arrived at a park. And you didn't even feel the need to go somewhere further.

Getting out of the, you noticed it to be empty. Maybe the gods did decide to let you a little off the hook, and of course people wouldn't spent their Saturday night sitting in a goddamn park when they could be participating in much enjoyable activities.

And so you pulled off the hood and the cap and settled yourself on a bench, your breath coming out ragged as the pent up emotions started building in your heart.

You gasped, chest heaving deeply as you hands shook and you clenched your jaw. Your vision slowly becoming blurry and you squinted your eyes while pressing your lips together to prevent any sound from escaping.

But the rawness of it all seemed to overpower your restraints and a lone tear did indeed trail down your cheek and out came a small, sob. You bent down, elbows on your knees and palms digging into your teary eyes as your shoulders shook.

"Wh- Why him?" You whispered to yourself and in doing so you were able to taste the saltiness of your tears. And then you were silent before another round of pain struck your sensitive mind, leaving you defeated.

"Hey," you heard a man speak making you jump as you looked up to see your best friend and realisation hit you immediately.

It was a Saturday night... And he always came to this particular park for his usual runs.. Christ...

You couldn't say anything, weren't able to actually and you merely stared while steady emotions fell from your eyes.

And Ben, oh god he was devastated as he took in your vulnerable frame. He could quite literally drop down to his knees because he could see the absolute pain etched on your face and it made him tremble.

"What's wrong?" His voice shook as he did not waste another second to sit next to you. "What the hell happened? Is it something serious? Did anything happen to you? Your family?" Questions flew out rapidly from his mouth and he stopped abruptly when all you gave him was a small smile and his very soul saddened.

He saw the redness of your eyes that were shining like glass, the tip of your nose in the condition as them and the twitch of your lips that held everything but happiness.

He saw them tremble and he lost it.

You were in his arms before you could comprehend what was happening, held tightly against his warm, comforting body. His hands were on your back, pulling you closer and closer while yours were limp by your sides, something that he noticed.

"What happened, love?" His voice laced with every amount of desperation as tightened his grip, almost suffocating you with his worry.

You didn't say anything. Time passed, slowly but surely and fresh tears soon formed in your eyes and you closed them, your arms going around his torso and you cried your heart out on his shoulders.

And he let you.

Not speaking another word in fear that he may interrupt something, not even moving a muscle, afraid that you would pull away. He stayed exactly where he first was right until the very end.

"P- Promise me something," you spoke at last, voice all hoarse and full of raw pain.

"Anything," he replied, not pulling away the slightest and instead pressing his lips against your hairline.

"Please don't leave me," a quiet request reached his ears and he breathed in.

And he had to detatch himself slightly to look right in your eyes as he answered, "I would never, I promise".

But you shook your head, "No you don't understand. It's not that easy," you kept on shaking your head, muttering under your breath and he cupped your cheeks, steadying your gaze on him.

"I will never leave your side," he said, clearly and firmly. "You hear me? I will never ever leave you all alone".

"You will tell me," you began, swallowing harshly as you tried to arrange your thoughts into coherent sentences. "If- If there's something about me that bothers you, or- or ticks you off, makes you mad, you will tell me. If you don't like any habits of mine or some of my preferences, you will tell me".

He looked at you with every ounce of sadness, feeling dejected at the choice of your questions.

"Maybe you find me boring suddenly or- or just not interesting enough, y- you will tell me," you stumbled in your speech and he caught you again.

"Oh darling," he sighed and his cheeks were moist as he listened to your cries and consoled you as best as he could.

"Just please don't leave me," you whimpered, gripping his jacket in your fist.

"I won't, I promise. I promise," Ben repeated as tears slid down his face too and he kept on dropping tiny kisses on the top of your head.

It hurt like hell, seeing the love of his life unravel right before his own eyes. It pained him physically when every little sob had made its way past your lips. Your heart was completely broken, the sharp edges cutting into your soul. But he would fix it, he vowed to himself. He would gather all your fragments and piece them together.

Because if love could cause destruction to such an extent, it could also heal to unbelievable heights.

===============================

It had been two years since the incident and you had recovered properly, now back to your previously normal state with only a small gap in your heart, which you assumed would always be there.

You were proud of yourself to have overcome the struggles and come such a long away. You had drowned yourself in work, accepting every offer and giving your level best in each and every performance.

And it all bore fruit.

Because here you were now, standing on a stage in front of thousands of people to give your acceptance speech for winning a Golden Globe award for the Best Lead Actress.

There was a satisfied smile on your face as you ended your token of gratitude to your fans and supporters. They had been incredible in showeing you with unbelievable love and enthusiasm.

"And last but certainly not the least," you said with the widest grin on your already glowing face, your eyes searching the crowd before landing on a particular person.

"This one's to him," you declared softly. "For helping me get through some of the toughest lows, providing me with all sorts of encouragement to push past the bitter memories and for always, always being there no matter what. This is all for you".

There was a loud round of screams and shouts from the very eager fans who had put two and two together.

"I love you Ben Barnes," you said at last and there followed an ear-splitting, thunderous applause. "Most ardently".

And it was all worth it to see that beautiful, gorgeous smile on his face that you so loved. He pressed his fingers to his lips and blew you a small kiss making your heart swell.

You exited the stage with one final note of thanks and each step you took towards him, you felt as though you had fought down the entire world for him and emerged victorious.

Ben stood up straight, looking devastatingly handsome in his royal blue tuxedo which coincidentally also seemed to match the colour of your dress. His obsidian eyes held every bit of pride there was in the entire universe; they shone like stars, all for you.

"Congratulations," he whispered, words for your ears only as he took your arm and brought you right into his chest.

"Thank you," you pressed your face into his neck, hinting a kiss on the warm skin. If one asked you, there was no way that you could recall exactly when you saw him differently. But there was just this one time when you looked at him and it was as though your universe had literally aligned. Everything just felt complete and so, so right.

Somebody had once said, that someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else. But he hadn't barged in your routine, he was already a part of it that you were yet to see.

There were a million words, but not one language could ever describe exactly what he was making you feel. He did the most ordinary of things like getting you your morning coffee on movie sets, keeping a hair tie on his wrist ready just in case that made your heart skip a tiny beat.

He was that once in a lifetime dream come true for you. That blue crayon that no one ever seemed to have enough of. He was that love that came without warning, the one who had already stolen your heart before you could even give a reply. He stormed inside like he already belonged there, took your carefully built walls down and ignited your very soul on fire.

"Thank you," you murmured, your lips tickling his ear. "For everything".

"I did promise, didn't I? And promises are meant to be kept".

Your love for him, it wasn't at first sight. It formed gradually through each year you had spent together. His personality, his goofy humour, that earth-shattering smile, that piercing gaze, gradually it all became clear that he was exactly the man whom you were looking for.

Meeting him was fate, destiny. Becoming his friend? That was certainly a choice. But falling for him? Goodness you had absolutely no control. Maybe you didn't intend to fall in love but at some point he smiled, that Ben Barnes smile and holy shit you blew it.

"Darling?" His gentle caress brought you back to the present, pulled you awake from your romantic thoughts.

"Yeah?" You could never really get used to him saying that god forbidden word. His British accent paired with that mischievous smirk and you were a goner.

"You pierced my soul. I am half agony, half hope and I too have loved none but you," he finished the quote that he knew was one of your favourites and you couldn't help but laugh with every speck of fondness as you closed the small gap to capture him in a searing kiss.

You were a dreamer, and he was your dream.

===============================

[angstyaches]

The Hexagon: Part Four

Parts One-Two | Part Three

CW: effects of exhaustion/hunger, magical whump, dissociation, auditory hallucinations, supernatural hunger, body horror, emeto, guilt, fear.

___

On a primal level, Shayne felt the forest's demonic inhabitants bristle and awaken to the presence of a predator. Not that he was much of a threat now.

He reached for his hunting instincts, but his stupid, useless attempts to break down the wards had emptied him out. And after two and a half days of no food, little water, and practically no sleep, his human energy reserves were just as low. 

With everything he had boiled down to fumes, all he could do was try to funnel those fumes into the chase.

The cloaked figure didn't sprint for too long before stopping in a small clearing.

As he slowed down, Shayne's stomach cramped sharply, the pains made much worse by the ragged breaths he was forcing into his lungs. The figure turned, their face in profile over their shoulder. He didn't see their eyes, but he felt their stare.

The air seemed to take on a thick consistency, and Shayne was struck by a wave of dread.

If you step into that clearing, something terrible will happen to Charlie.

Shayne's legs became rooted to the spot, and he stood there, trembling. He couldn't cross the invisible barrier into the clearing any more than he could have passed through the hexagon's walls.

Was this... magic?

“Who the fuck are you?” He pushed every ounce of strength he had into his voice, and still it came out quieter than his frantic breaths. All he wanted was to step closer, to look at their face, to... to know – 

And then a door unfolded itself from the forest floor. 

Shayne blinked, willing the impossible image away, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it again, standing isolated amongst the tree trunks. It was painted a greyish colour, in neat, yet visible, vertical brushstrokes, and had a large, brassy-looking doorknob.

The cloaked figure turned to face it, as though it were the most natural thing to find tucked away in the middle of the forest.

A fucking door. 

Their hand reached for the doorknob.  

“Wait...” Shayne tried pushing himself forward, groaning as nausea rolled over him. “Please, just fucking wait –” 

One push on the wood, and the cloaked figure was gone, and the painted door along with them. There was a short burst of those same purple orbs, though they descended and dissolved a lot more quickly this time. A weight lifted from Shayne's shoulders as the magic dispersed, but a hefty amount of that sickening dread seemed to have belonged to him all along.

He staggered forward, alone, and collapsed onto his hands and knees. 

His vision was blurry. His breath came faster and faster as he realised he had no way to know if what he’d just seen had been real. If any of this had been real. If his own hands, numb with adrenaline, were real. If the demons that began to circle the clearing, some cautious, some eager to investigate, were real. 

They were coming close. Too close. 

Aren’t you hungry?

Red eyes in the dark, twisting in the edges of his vision. Dispersing and reforming each time he blinked. Cold on the back of his neck as her mouth twisted into a sinister smile.

Don’t you know that this is all you are good for, little monster? 

Shayne curled forward, blocking the back of his neck with both hands, and whimpered. Not real. She didn’t get to be real. She didn’t get to be... here... 

Right?

But that demon magic –

Shayne didn't have the chance to finish that thought, because every nerve was now screaming at him. He raised his head, watching as glimmering puddles took shape in the air and spiraled towards him. 

Demons. Real.  

Shayne closed his eyes and reached for the very last thing that he had.

The hunger had been so easy to push aside for the sake of escape attempts, and then keeping a level head, and then giving chase to whoever or whatever had taken down the wards. And it had been easy for the forest to forget what he was when he’d been conveniently tucked away. But Shayne was a predator here, and his prey didn’t have the luxury of recognising him for what he was.  

So instead of fleeing, they swarmed inwards, curious. 

Saliva flooded into Shayne’s mouth as he growled – or tried to, but the sound became a drowned gurgle in his throat. Instead of threatening, he sounded wounded, pathetic.

Hungry.

He didn’t want to feel it, didn’t want it to close in around his thoughts, but it was there. Always lying in wait.

He picked up a hand from the forest floor and pressed it to his belly, felt it shift and rumble under his burned palm. He exhaled and let his jaws relax, and they fell wide. His mouth water directly onto the pine needles, saliva almost turning to acid as his stomach roiled.

He fought the urge to let himself curl up as the demons crept closer. They needed to see him. They needed to know what he was. And he couldn't show them his strength, so they needed to see that his weakness was just as dangerous.

They needed to see exactly what he was good for.

He worked the empty clawing in his stomach into a growl.

The demon closest to him flinched into a retreat, never revealing its shape or hinting at its remnants. It was just gone. The others slowed their approach, their curiosity evaporating into an overly-familiar haze of fear.

Once the danger was lifted, the hunger brought clarity with it like a slap to the face.

“Oh, god, Charlie,” Shayne groaned.

Someone had taken down the wards, and he had immediately abandoned Charlie to chase after them. He wiped his mouth and stood up on legs that just would not stop shaking. It didn’t matter; he didn’t get to take it easy on himself after he had left Charlie alone, unconscious and half-starved and fearing for his life.

He had to find his way back to him.

Shayne had never gotten turned around in a forest in his life, and he dreaded that this would be the first time. His stomach was roiling – as much with stress as with hunger – his head was reeling, and this wasn’t any of his usual haunts.

Demons still stalked the shadows between the trees. Some hadn’t quite caught on, and sneaked up close enough that Shayne had to keep baring his teeth to get them to fuck off. 

After following what he hoped was the right way back, his legs lost a battle with an gentle incline. He sank onto his knees, growling weakly at three demons who had convened around one spot.

They ignored him, their attention elsewhere.

Shayne whimpered softly. God fucking damn it. He lifted his chin and tilted his head back, but jaws remained where they were, unhinged. The aching chasm inside of him screamed out, and he lunged, barely stopping himself from snapping his teeth shut around one of the scattering demons. He managed to dial the desperate hunger down to a warning snarl, and dug his fingers into the pine needles until the three demons shrank in on themselves and fled.

Shayne twisted to the side and retched acid onto the ground. “Charlie.”

He crawled to close the last bit of distance between them. He hadn’t fully registered Charlie’s curled-up form behind the curious demons, at least not with any of his human senses.

But he’d found him.

The first thing he did was quickly scan him over, searching for scratches. Then he felt for CT’s horn; still active, but weaker than it should have been. Charlie himself didn't seem to have stirred from his .

“Fucking heavy sleeper,” Shayne whispered. He gritted his teeth, fought back tears, and tried not to think about how badly he wanted to just curl up and sleep too. “Charlie?”

He brushed a thumb beneath over Charlie’s cheek, lingering beneath his eyes, where darkness had gathered and sunk into his skin.

“Charlie, wake up.” 

“Ugh,” Charlie mumbled.

“You have to wake up, love.”

A twitch went through Charlie's limbs. He lifted his head from his arm, squinting in the golden sunlight that cut through the tree trunks.

“Hi, lovely.”

“Um, yeah. Hi, Charlie.” Even now, even here, after everything, Shayne’s stomach fluttered as Charlie’s blue eyes looked up at him from under heavy, sleep-drawn eyelids. “The wards are down.”

Charlie flung himself upright. “What?”

“We're going home,” Shayne said, and he could barely believe it himself.

“H-how?” Charlie glanced about, steadying himself by clutching Shayne’s shoulders as he flung his own from side to side. “I don't get it. Wh-what did...?”

Charlie paused. His Adam's apple bobbed as he eyed Shayne up and down. Shayne's heart sank, and he pressed the heels of his hands to his jaws, working them back into place with a grinding pain and a grimace. There wasn't much he could do about the saliva and acid spilled down the front of his t-shirt and jacket.

“What did you do?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing. It wasn’t me.” 

“Somebody came for us?” 

“No. Yeah...” A tightness rose in Shayne’s chest. The figure in the cloak. The wards disappearing in an instant. The disappearing door. Was there any way of explaining it all without sounding like he’d hallucinated all of it? “Kind of. Maybe.” 

Charlie shook his head. “What?” 

“Ugh. Later,” Shayne said through his teeth. He stood up. He swayed slightly until he forced himself to focus again. The forest was still very aware of both their presence, but being back with Charlie, he felt sharper. More restless, too. He lowered a hand towards Charlie, resisting the urge to just grab hold of him and drag him up. “It’s still just you and me, so let’s get back to your car. Come on.” 

“Car,” Charlie mused, as though he’d thought he’d never say the word again. Or have use for one. “I-I can’t... I can’t... remember the way back.” 

“It’s okay. I do.” 

Charlie placed his hand into Shayne’s. “What if... there's more traps?” 

“There weren’t any on our way here. Until we got... here.” Shayne could feel the tremble in Charlie’s grip as he helped him to his feet. “We’ll take the exact same way back.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Shayne winced at how easily Charlie’s weight dropped against him, but he was kind of relieved to feel the warmth of him in his arms. His legs shook and his jaws were killing him, but he had the chance to get Charlie to safety after he’d acted so stupidly, and he wasn't going to fuck it up. “We're getting the fuck out of here, love.”

[crabsnpersimmons]

Hey Crabs! I have a small question! 🦀

How do you make the pictures of your traditional art look so good!?

They are always bright and easy to see! But when I take a photo of my drawings, they always have a blue or yellow tint to them. So how do you make it look the way you do?

(Also, I want to gobble up your art it is so yummy and pretty! Sun and Moon are so precious in your style!) ❤️

Thanks! And I hope you’re having a good day! :D

no prob! there's actually a couple things i do, so here's the tl;dr:

Lighting: i use daylight or light from a neutral white lightbulb

Editing: i use my phone's built-in gallery app to lightly edit the colours so they're clear and as colour-accurate as i can get (from my screens at least)

and i'll go into a little more detail with some examples under the cut

1. Lighting

a habit of mine that i got from my IG days (ugh...) is using daylight whenever possible. daylight just lights up the whole area more evenly and relatively neutrally. this is my set up:

glamourous

basically, i put the artwork near a source of natural light and prop up a reflector (in this case, a blank page from another sketchbook) that helps distribute the light more evenly across the page, so that even the side that is furthest from the light gets some light that bounces off from the reflector. i don't always have a reflector tho, like if i'm only taking a picture of a small drawing and not an entire page, there's no need.

now, if it's dark, then i rely on my desk lamp, which uses a neutral white lightbulb. regular lightbulbs come in different temperatures, from warm to neutral to cool—so that might explain why your photos are coming out with a yellow or blue tint. warm lights are common in houses because they're cozy, while blue lights are common in working areas because, like daylight, they keep us more awake. neutral white is in between the two.

here's an example of my Moon doodle that i did recently under different lights: warm (from my bedside lamp), neutral white (from my work desk), and daylight (i don't have any cooler lights in the house, so i couldn't quite get the blue tint 😅)

now technically, NONE of these are colour accurate. so i always follow up with some light photo editing

2. Editing

now, i have 2 personal rules when it comes to editing my photos:

1) try to make it as close to the original as possible; and 2) don't spend too long on it

these are just my personal rules because... one) i'm lazy and i don't want to spend too long fixing every thing in my drawings, and two) i feel it is dishonest for me to make dramatic changes to my traditional art and still call it traditional art. whenever i do make digital enhancements (like colouring it digitally) i will tag it so no one would mistake it as purely traditional art. that's just me tho! there are no rules when you're having fun with your art and mixed media art is a thing! so do whatever you find fun and enjoyable.

also, i will try to make it as colour-accurate as possible, but i also recognize that not everyone's screens are calibrated the same way. my phone is set to a "Natural" colour setting, but on my new laptop (which i haven't figured out how to calibrate yet) is vibrant as all heck (like oh my gosh, maybe i need to start tagging everything with bright colours now, because what if someone else's laptop is this insanely vibrant and saturated??) but either way, i try not to spend too long on it because i know i won't be able to accommodate every screen.

anyways, for what i actually DO... i kinda just play around with different settings. if i took the picture under daylight, then there's not too much i adjust, usually it's the warm colours that are desaturated, so i try to make the reds pop more without effecting the blues too much.

or for my doodles, sometimes the doodle on the other side of the page is slightly visible, i'll tweak the lights and shadows and contrast levels until the background is clear enough (as long as it doesn't disturb the doodle i'm taking a photo of)

now, if your photos are coming out too yellow or blue because of your lighting, you can adjust that by tweaking the Temperature setting. here's an example of that warm Moon doodle:

already looking a little better, right? so don't worry if your photos aren't coming out accurate, there are work arounds!

here's the before and after of the Moon doodle by the way:

despite having daylight, i still needed to adjust the colours. specifically i needed to brighten up the reds and yellows, and bring back the page's natural yellowness. i also tweaked the Definition setting to make less hazy (sometimes i like the haziness tho, so i'll leave it as is sometimes).

and one other reminder: it doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to be. a big reason why i keep coming back to traditional art is the fact that i can't control everything. i can't undo lines. i can't move things around. and i can't take the perfect picture. but it doesn't need to be perfect. drawing and sharing my art is supposed to be fun! and i don't want to put any barriers around that, or else it becomes unnecessarily stressful.

all that is to say, try out these tips if you want to, but don't treat them as hard rules and don't focus on trying to achieve perfection. just go have fun!

[suchathrilltobeagirl]

From my FIRST BOOK (!), 'Night and Day' ...

My First Date with a Guy - Part Six

I went back to the conference room for my bag and then went into the ladies restroom to change. I remembered the well-lit restroom and the fact that I was perhaps visible to half of London; getting changed meant getting naked first, so I changed in a cubicle. Why naked? Under the blue dress, I had only been wearing panties, bra and hose/tights. When Harry had asked me to wear the gold dress, he had also asked me to wear stockings and he wanted to put them on me and fasten same to my garter/suspender belt. I don't actually like wearing stockings. I know that guys love them.

I guess the stockings are ok (I usually wear holdups) but the suspender/garter belt is always a bit fiddly and sometimes quite uncomfortable to wear. I guess not having a full female figure (narrow waist, wide hips) is part of the problem as the belt can slide down but I have lost count of the number of times I have crossed my legs to feel the 'ping' of a clasp 'popping' open ... !

So, although I did have a matching suspender/garter belt, for comfort, I decided to put on a Basque (with suspenders) and matching panties under the gold dress.

With the cubicle door open, a well-lit room and a mirror just across from the cubicle, I stood for a minute looking in the mirror pinching myself! I couldn't believe I was standing in a ladies restroom wearing just a Basque and panties; I didn't want this night to end. I put the gold dress on, came out of the cubicle and checked the mirror to inspect my hair and make-up. While I'm sure I didn't need to really do anything, I applied another layer of mascara to my eyelashes and re-did my lip gloss – such a girl!

I left the ladies restroom wearing the dress that Harry had asked me to wear. My legs were bare but so smooth after all that pampering in the bath earlier. That said, I was aware how chilly Harry's office had become. My blue dress had a bolero jacket with it; this dress was fairly minimalist, another reason for wearing the Basque, no bra straps to hide! Harry was seated on a sofa in the 'welcome area' of the office. I approached him, walking as elegantly as I could, holding my matching gold shoes in my hand. Harry had bought me some black lacy stockings to put on (!) but I assured him that they would not 'go' with my dress and shoes – guys really have no idea when it comes to buying underwear! Thankfully, I had brought a pair of 'natural' colour stockings with me and I was able to persuade Harry to put these on me instead.

I gave the stockings to him and he very carefully put his fingers into each stocking to find the toe, placed the stocking over my toe, over my foot and then up each leg. He was so careful, so gentle doing this; this was a very special moment for each of us. With each stocking extended fully up each of my legs, it was time to fasten them to my suspender/garter belt. This was a bit fiddly for Harry! I was looking down at this lovely man, struggling to maintain a healthy tension in each stocking with one hand while holding the clasp in the other. As I did so, I realized that the back of his hand was up under the skirt of my dress, touching my male part and this caused me to panic a little!

All there was between him and 'that' was the thickness of my panties! Harry was very good though, it was clear he was focused only on fastening my stockings; I don't know that he was conscious of what the back of his hand had almost come into contact with! Harry continued to struggle, so I helped him. I pulled each stocking up and Harry did each clasp – it's true what they say about guys and multitasking!

Once the stockings were fastened, I sat down on the sofa and put my gold shoes on. While it felt good to have shoes on again - I always feel they enhance the shape of girls' legs – as I sat there, I was conscious that my stocking tops were exposed at the side and were only just covered on top/at the front! I thought what the heck!

Harry and I spoke some more. He had his arm around my shoulder and he had his hand on my leg, gently stroking my thigh. I loved it!

I was in 'girly' heaven'!

TO BE CONTINUED

Katie xxx

[lihikainanea]

I am picturing Bill having this specific hobby/thing he likes (a book, a game, an album, etc.) and Tiger knows about it. it's not really Her Thing but she can dabble into it (learn it, experience it). and then one day Bill talks about it and Tiger just simply agrees with him, says a few points of her own about how she's grown to like it, and Bill is just a bundle of emotions. because it's a lot of things at once. she took the time to see what it was about? and then as he listens to her talk about it more it's all OF COURSE she'd get it. OF COURSE she understands the joy he gets from it, why it means so much to him, and so on. it's just a simple moment, but Bill feels so seen and it hits him like a truck. he is so in love. they end up snuggling. :'D

oh god, what if it's something so completely out there and something so not-on-brand that he's actually a little bit shy about it? What if it's something so absurd like....like crochet, nani.

IT'S CROCHET ISN'T IT.

And I'll bet tiger thinks it's real sweet right? Because maybe Granny taught Bill how to crochet. Maybe they'd kind of spend hours together over tea and madeleines, Bill would be holding the ball of yarn while Granny's hands went a mile a minute, and eventually Bill just kind of...well, he picked it up too. And tiger thinks it's so sweet, this big dude with these huge clumsy hands, but the thing is...Bill is kind of really good at it. Like, really good. So tiger also appreciates having all kinds of warm socks and mittens and toques all custom made. And Bill is pretty damn talented, so he crochets all kinds of fancy patterns with all kinds of colours and every once in awhile when a mutual friend compliments tiger's new cute mittens, Bill just sort of smiles shyly and lets himself be a little proud.

And like, he's also super into it, you know? Once he lets go of the initial embarassment. Maybe once tiger points out that literally thousands--if not millions--of people have seen his ween (And literally the ween of nearly every male in his family) on a big screen so a little crafty habit is nothing to be ashamed of. He's part of groups. Facebook groups, online groups. One is for troubleshooting, which he turned to when he couldn't figure out why his current project was just getting wider and wider or when his chain was too tight or he was only crocheting in the front loop. One is for inspo, all kinds of things he wants to create. And one is a legit little support group in the area that meet up every so often, and Bill wishes so badly that he could go but he just doesn't want the visibility. He knows he's the only man in the group, and he's...well, he's him. it would cause a stir.

So my girl tiger--ever the one to indulge her Big Dude in all of his adorable weirdness--maybe there are like, CONS for these things. A Crochet-Con. And she gets wind of one happening about 2 hours away, way in the country side. There's only about 100 people or so who attend, it's so niche, and after some careful creeping tiger realizes that the average age of the participants is like, 80.

Nobody will know who he is there.

It's a whole 2-day event. There's discussion groups to troubleshoot common issues. There's a workshop on crocheting complex patterns. There's a small trade show area where you can sell some of your goods. So tiger gets two tickets, prints them out, and gets all giddy.

Maybe she wanted to keep it a surprise for longer, but when she bounced into the living room she saw her big dorky dude there on the couch, his thick rimmed glasses on, a foot propped up on the coffee table. His tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as his gaze was fixed on the small crochet hook, the ball of yarn, and this dainty, intricate pattern between his huge hands.

"I have a surprise for you," she smiles, plopping down on the couch. Without missing a beat Bill passes her the ball of yarn and she instinctively unravels some of it as his little crochet hook bobs and weaves at an impressive speed.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks but doesn't look away, "What's that?"

She puts her hand on the small pattern he's creating but he squawks.

"I'll drop a stitch!" he shrieks, then inspects the little piece of fabric thoroughly. Tiger just quirks a brow, and waits.

"Crisis averted?" she chuckles.

"Barely," he snarks, then he softens. "What's up kid?"

Tiger pulls the tickets out from behind her back and hands them to him, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hooker Con?" he asks skeptically.

"Keep reading."

He scans the rest of the writing, and then his eyes light up.

"It's a crochet con?" he asks excitedly. She nods, smiling.

"It's two days?" he continues reading, "Troubleshooting, discussions, workshop--oh my god, the Jasmine stitch?! that one's impossible to do!"

"It's in two weeks," she says, "I thought it might be fun."

But then suddenly, his face falls.

"Tiger, what about--"

"They won't," she answers his silent question, "I creeped a few past...Hookers. They're all in their 80s bud. I don't think it'll be an issue. And if you're worried, we can glue a beard on you. Slap a wig on."

He smiles at her, leaning over to kiss her.

"There's two tickets," he mumbles, "You're going to come?"

"Of course," she chuckles, "I'd love to."

"But it's crochet," he says shyly.

"It's you," she tells him with another kiss, "And I love this little hobby of yours. I think it's sweet."

"You do?"

"Of course. And I want to...FOTH and frog and HOTH all weekend with you."

Bill laughs boisterously.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he chuckles.

[teabreakpancakes]

Hi! Recently discovered your writings and I absolutely love them, especially because I couldn't find a lot of them

Can I make a request? I'll understand if you decline, it's alright, don't worry

May I make a request with Luchino Diruse (more specifically, Evil Reptilian) where there is going to be a new hunter, and turns out they are his past protégé that, oops, mutated like he did. To sum up, fluff with Luchino that discovers that new hunter is indeed his, you can say, friend

Thank you if you'll agree! I understand of you'll decline

Bye, take care, and have a good day!

A Familiar Face Luchino Diruse & GN Hunter Reader

I do think OC would be better because i describe how they look ^^;

Genre: Fluff

Luchino Diruse wasn't one for relationships, be it platonic or romantic. You were an anomaly wedged into his seemless life, and yet, you were a welcome one at that. From conducting research together, spending time outside of work and daily visits, there were countless things that were altered about his routine.

You, his pupil, were ten years younger than him!, meeting your professor at the curious age of 12. Eager as you were, the professor found it difficult to shut down such interest; he allowed you to stick around, as long as you remained safe at least. He surmised that you would eventually lose interest in his study but to his surprise, you stuck around, doing your best to befriend him.

You could not have been more boastful about having such a brilliant teacher, despite him not having taken you in as his protege yet. In fact, upon having declared you as such, you tilted your head to the side, asking him, "What's that?"—he of course found this endearing at that time. He was still a student at that time and he had no clue about how long your interest would last, but he vowed to make you his protege some day.

But such a good thing came to an end when he decided to head to the manor, leaving his friend behind.

The reptilian hunter scowls, visibly annoyed as he was ushered into the living room. "Is my attendance of utmost importance for you to have interrupted my research?" he sighed out, massaging the area between his eyes. His tail swished towards the survivor in a somewhat threatening manner.

Freddy rolled his eyes, "Had I the choice, the thought of approaching you would've never crossed my mind" he replied coldly. "The owner of the manor told us that your presence was necessary; the new hunter is apparently related to you after all." the lawyer informs, stopping in front of a door. "Head inside, we were told that only you would enter the room" Freddy spoke one last time before turning on his heel and walking away.

The Herpetologist stares inquisitively at the door, as if trying to look through the opaque object in order to get a hint about just who exactly this hunter was. 'An old colleague perhaps? a student? who could it possibly be? if it's a friend then I doubt it's (Name), I was told they moved after I disappeared, although, they did take my personal belongings with them' he pondered, fondness painting his features as they softened at the thought of his lovely protege. You were one of his professor's children, a kid that often came with their parent just to see their work. You often pestered your parent to bring you with them just to spend time with Luchino, my, such a troublemaker you were he chuckled lightly.

His claws wrapped around the doorknob, hesitation heavy as he thought about who could be standing behind the door, 'Could this be one of the owner's tricks? there's a possibility there will be no one in the room once I open this door but I wouldn't find out until I opened it' he paused, sighing heavily before pushing the door open.

Dark orange eyes pierce into the back of a crisp white lab coat. Before him stood a hunter roughly around the same height as Bloody Queen, with long raven and chalk coloured locks that cascaded down their slender figure. Test tubes filled with glowing liquid hanged from their waist, along with various lab apparatuses.

The hunter turns sharply on their heel with a toothy grin, "Why hello, old friend, or should I say, Prof" the hunter greeted with a friendly tone that sent the mutant a wave of nostalgia. (Name) whistled as they stared up at him, "You sure are a sight to behold, you are just ginormous!" the researcher exclaimed.

Luchino gaped, barely capable of uttering a single word. "Y, You're—" he stumbles, blinking repeatedly, as if incapable of processing your sudden appearance. The other hunter laughs airily, "I've missed you Luchino, I've been searching for you ever since your disappearance, all while balancing work too" they spoke, approaching him with lithe steps, wrapping their arms around him.

Luchino lowers himself, pulling them into his body. "... I've missed you, s, so so much" he replies, a soft smile finding it's way on his face.

[ask-richard-jackdaw]

*It was getting late in the evening, and you were leisurely floating through the Transfiguration Courtyard when you heard something rustling and honking in one of the bushes. Curiosity got the better of you, and just as you were about to float closer, a teal-furred rascal jumped out of the bush—Nosy!

The little Niffler didn't pay any attention to you at first. He was too busy chasing after an insect in vibrant sapphire blue colours. The little bug was so shiny—Nosy just had to catch it! The little menace jumped up and down, constantly trying to catch the flying sapphire, and on the seventh jump Nosy finally seemed to have succeeded and caught the little bug with his paws! But the little insect was not like any other. It was a Billywig, and it definitely had other plans than Nosy. The Niffler let out a short yelp and immediately let go of the Billywig.

It seemed like Nosy had been stung! Nosy first looked at his stung paw and then slowly glanced over at you. His big, round eyes were slowly beginning to fill up with a few tears. He looked back at his paw, began to whimper, and licked his wound. But after just a few seconds, the whining turned into a cheerful squeak. If you didn't know any better, you would almost say that Nosy was giggling. Each new squeak of the teal-furred rascal sounded louder and more playful. And suddenly, out of nowhere, Nosy slowly started to float. Still squeaking and honking, Nosy floated higher and higher. He was now almost at eye level with you! Nosy honked at you with a happy face.*

Richard's curiosity takes the better of him: he starts following the little teal niffler around, inconspicuously humming a little tune not to spook the creature in case it's not aware of his ghostly presence. He has seen this particular niffler before — Nosy, was it? Back at Solomon's? Richard wonders if the little one ever returned Solomon's pocketwatch back as it seems to be really important to Mr. Sallow.

The ghost (rather used to being ignored over the years to the point of irnoring the ignoring) observes the little creature jumping around trying to get to something blue and shiny beelining through the air. Richard's brow furrows as he makes his way closer trying to figure out what it is that has got Nosy so excited. His eyes go wide in recognition. "Oh no, you reeealy don't want this one to—" he hurriedly starts saying to the niffler a moment before the cute little attempts at catching the bug succeed.

"Ouch," Richard visibly winces at the niffler's cry of pain, feeling bad for him. This is not good. "I'm sorry, little buddy, there's nothing I can do for you," the ghost says, implying not only the sting which undoubtedly hurts but also what happens a moment later: a jumping niffler turns into a flying niffler.

Nosy's excitement is rather contagious and Richard is glad his young little friend forgot about the tragic wound he received while on a hunt. Oh, the pray might have escaped, but the gift it left? It's spectacular! The ghost laughs at the niffler's happy noises, flying up with him, trying to manipulate the air around the creature to make him spin a little. That might show Nosy what fun he can have!

On the inside Richard is panicking a little. How long will the levitation last? What if when it wears off Nosy gets stuck on a tower and falls down? Or above the lake and couldn't swim back? Should he tell teachers? Call for the niffler's owner? The ghost isn't letting the niffler see any of that worry on his face, instead, he laughs excitedly. A flying niffler!

Prepare for trouble! thinks Richard honking back at the niffler as well.

[imhereforscm]

"Choke you"

Genre: Smut/"Plot? What plot?"

Pairing: Ichthys × reader

Warnings: NSFW, choking, hand fetish

A/N: I was listening to BABYDOLL by Ari Abdul while writing, soooo yeah. It's not a songfic, I just think the song fits the mood. Also, I'm quite busy these days, that's why you don't see me much unless it's for shit posting, but don't chu worry children😚😚 I'm doing great (busy is not inherently bad) and I'll be returning with more frequent fics once things have slowed down a bit. Welp! I hope you enjoy my little brainstorming.

The lights of the city below your hotel room were shining brightly in the night, bold and unafraid to draw everyone's eyes on them.

The room was dark, having no lights on and that allowed the colours of the city to invade your space, faintly brightening it with warm tones such as orange, red and gold-like yellow.

You stood close to the large window, taking in the panoramic view laid out before you, as if it was made just for you to feast on with your eyes.

You were still wearing your bathrobe, but your hair had mostly dried by the amount of time you've been standing there, admiring everything, completely enchanted.

You slowly let your robe slid down your arms and pool at your feet, your naked skin basking into the comfortable temperature of the room, only slightly to the cooler side of the spectrum.

You raised your hand and placed it against the glass, feeling as if you could touch the city lights by doing that.

Your gaze found your hand and without meaning to or trying too hard, you compared it to your boyfriend's.

Ichthys' was larger and that thought alone sparked a tingle in your stomach. You entertained the thought in your mind more and thought of how soft it was, yet how strong it looked. His knuckles wore his skin in delicious ways, creating a texture so soft, yet so firm.

You remembered his hands on various times of the day. When he opens a door for you and grips the doorknob, when he takes your hands and his long fingers wrap around it, practically devouring it... When he puts his hand on your thigh and squeezes there, knowing how much it distracts you...

Right now it distracted you again. Your thoughts flew away from the city view and your lips parted a little, unconsciously for more air. The place between your thighs came alive and you felt it aching, as if swollen, but in a good way. Far better than just good.

You shifted the subject of his hands around, flipping it over and over again, until you had looked at it from every possible angle. You started to wonder where else you could see these hands resting.

You closed your eyes and sighed. "He'd choke me and I'd thank him." Was your honest craving with no barriers to keep it locked in your chest.

"So you really do have a hand fetish." A voice from behind you made your eyes open again and when you turned around, your warm body became hot. Ichthys was striding up to you, calmly yet with such intensity in his expression. You really couldn't understand how a single man could be two things at once, he was a duality, a paradox and you were planning to enjoy every bit of it. "You think my hands are hot?"

You nodded and swallowed thickly, when he came to stand right in front of you with his grey eyes flooding with lust, which he was visibly trying to keep under control for the sake of foreplay.

"And you want me to choke you?"

You nodded again. Your words were stolen and your usually fast tongue had fallen into submission, along with the rest of your body.

His beautiful and clear eyes trailed down your naked figure, standing in front of the city lights and you didn't miss the small, shaky breath he inhaled.

You looked down at his hands and then back at him. "Ichthys..." You said in a quiet voice, the words barely finding each other through all the desire to be touched by him roughly. "Screw foreplay."

"I was hoping you'd say that." He said, his voice coming out as a lustful whisper. He stomped a foot in front of you and he wasted no time wrapping his hand around your neck, griping it tightly.

You felt the change in the portion of air you were able to inhale. It was less, but you didn't mind. You loved it. It made the spot between your thighs burn up even more.

Ichthys pushed you and you stumbled backwards, until he had your back pressed firmly against the glass. "I want your eyes to roll to the back of your head." You heard him say, before unbuckling his pants and letting his boxed fall right after. He slid a hand beneath your thigh and raised it, keeping it against his hip as he thrusted forward, easily finding entrance to your slick folds. "Fuck!" He cursed and the heel of his palm pressed into the skin of your sternum, adding to the weight and making you moaned as loudly as you could with his hand around your neck.

You felt the physical pleasure of his cock and the emotional of his hand choking you. And with the way you were pressed against the window, you felt so filled to the brim with sensations you came undone with a struggled cry slipping out of your throat.

Ichthys kept thrusting though, never pausing his hips from oscillating and hitting all the correct spots in you without missing once. "Fuck. You look so good with my hand around your neck." He said, through moans. "You're so lewd this way, it's so sexy." He leaned in and connected his lips with yours, his angle changing into a deeper one and you could tell he was getting close, since the grip around your neck tightened much more.

You stole a glance lower and much to your pleasure, you could spot his second hand gripping your thigh. The mere sight of it was enough to send your eyes to the back of your head and moan loudly, your body writhing against his.

It only took seconds after your climax for Ichthys to pull out and finish on your thighs, before his hand slowly slipped off your neck.

Completely out of breath and still experiencing that sweet shiver after having a fantasy of yours fulfilled, you looked into your boyfriend's eyes.

He smirked at you. "Where's my 'thank you', babydoll?"

[allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers]

RAYAN AND SAGE ANGST TIME, HAHAHAA-

(this may contain potentially triggering topics, so do view with caution.)

(author note: goodness me, this took far too long. This is probably my best piece of work, I adore how it turned out. Plus, it's angst! Enjoy, boys bi's and bugs!)

Rayan groaned softly, eyes adjusting to the sudden light surrounding him as he looked around. A pale, bright light surrounded him, engulfing him in a mass of luminous white. Or was it light? What was it? Rayan cautiously lifted his hand, skin even more pale than usual, his scars like tiny, colourless imperfections, and brought it forward, attempting to feel the stuff of which the mass was made of. To no avail. Just nothing, other than a slight sensation of pins and needles forming in his fingers, flowing slowly up his arm but disappearing suddenly as he snatched his hand back with one swift, practiced motion.

There was no sound.

Nothing to see.

Nothing to feel.

Nothing to touch.

Nothing to smell.

Nothing to taste.

Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing-

Something caught Rayan’s eye. There was a figure beside him, basking in the warm light like a delicate flower bathing in dancing sun rays.

Emerald green eyes, soft light brown hair in a loose ponytail streaked with sage green dye, black ear piercings, the all-too-familiar dark green jumper over a white polo-shirt..

It couldn’t be..

“..Sage?”

It was a bit too bright for Rayan to actually see him, but the resemblance was there. He looked like Sage. Sage, his first partner. Sage, his first partner that actually loved him. Sage, his first partner that shot himself in the head in his bedroom. Sage, his first partner that Rayan had left behind to rot away, to let time do its work, and to be forgotten about in a matter of months.

Even worse, Sage still looked like his corpse. Bright, glimmering crimson stained his jumper and polo shirt, shimmering like glitter in the harsh brightness they were engulfed in. Half of his face was also stained in the red liquid, a gunshot wound still oozing blood like a rose-coloured waterfall just about visible on his forehead. The gun he had used to seal his inevitable fate was held lazily in his right hand, the barrel of the gun dripping his vibrant blood.

The rest of him looked normal enough, Rayan had recognized him within a second, but something felt.. off. Something felt different. Rayan couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but it was there, he just didn't know what it was. He looked normal, he looked like the Sage he once knew, but.. but something was wrong. Perhaps it was the way Sage's eyes reflected the dancing lights around them but didn't truly see them, or how his body was stiff, still like a statue or the remnants of an abandoned building, solitary and empty, completely frozen in time from when it was once alive and flowing with life.

Rayan shook his head firmly, attempting to clear the thoughts from his mind, stepping forward towards Sage. His steps seemed to echo, flowing into the air to be carried away in a non-existent wind, to be heard by nothing and no-one other than the white void of dancing, shining lights around them. He advanced towards Sage more, until they were standing right in front of each other.

Then Sage began to disappear.

He began to simply.. cease to exist, almost evaporating into thin air, starting from one side of his body to the other. He was gone in a matter of seconds, far too fast for Rayan to even begin to comprehend what was happening before his very eyes, now clouded with tears. He frantically tried to hold onto his slowly fading body, to try and grip his vanishing jumper, to pull him close and embrace him one last time. But it was no use.

He was gone.

His beloved Sage was gone.

And he would never come back.

Never.

[salmonellaandcheese]

Tag Game To Better Know You!

Tagged by the lovely and talented @lady--lisa (So sorry for taking so long! I didn't forget! I just couldn't figure out a way to copy all the questions easily on mobile)

If you saw the first version of this no u didnt

What book are you currently reading?

I'm halfway through Anne of Avolea by L.M Montgomery and a few chapters into the Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett. I really should read more, I used to devour books back when I was a kid, but the library I volunteer at is based on community requests so its almost entirely formulaic ghostwritten thrillers (curse you James Pattison). If anyone has book recommendations let me know!

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I think the only movie I saw was the new Top Gun, which I only watched because my mum loves the original and we went for her birthday. I wouldn't say its fantastic, but I did end up infodumping to my friends about propaganda and pop culture.

What do you usually wear?

Usually loose jeans or other sturdy pants and some variety of print t-shirt with my red flannel. Anxiety kind of made it into my uni uniform, I never thought I'd miss my high school uniform that much. When I'm at home I'm usually wearing shorts and an old singlet that I got in grade 8 or something. Winter means I get to wear big jumpers! I have this horrifically ugly one on it that says New Zealand with a red kiwi on it, I adore it. If I'm reaching out of my miniscule comfort zone I'll wear a funky button up or a more form fitting shirt, I've always dressed quite modestly (although not entirely by choice) and this year I cut my hair off and started to explore my masculinity and being openly and visibly queer. I pretty much only wear natural fibres and very practial/sensory friendly clothing, so most of my clothes are made to last and will be repaired until I deign them unwearable.

Fun fact, I used to actually dress in a style I'd say is somewhere between classic lolita and cottagecore, lots of pinafores and frilly shirts and ribbons. Next year I'd like to step out of my comfort zone and dress in any way that sparks joy, maybe experiment with makeup, different styles or more revealing clothing (ooh a shoulder, scandalous).

How tall are you?

I'm actually not quite sure, between 165cm and 170cm I think (5'5" to 5'7")

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Gemini

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

I introduce myself with my name but with hopes that I'll get a nickname, I've always wanted one.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

I'm still in uni but by a technicality yes? I wanted to be a scientist but came to dislike science in high school, but now I'm doing archeology (and history) through an arts degree but I could do it through a science degree. I did really enjoy digging in the dirt as a child, so I think little me would be happy about that, even if i was more into paleontology.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

No. I do have a bit of a crush on my best friend, who I turned down a year ago because I'm the stupidest person alive and can't tell the difference between friendship feelings and romantic feelings.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm good with precision and detail orientated things. I love knitting and I've picked up archery and bread making recently. Its actually why I got into archaeology, I wanted to work in restoration and conservation.

I'm bad at remembering to do stuff. It's the ADHD man. Assessments? whoops. Consistent meals? Forgot. Cleaning? sorry not happening

Dogs or cats?

Dogs, I've never had a cat and don't really know how they work.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

I knitted my best friend some lovely socks, they're my first pair of socks and my second time doing fair isle.

What’s something you would like to create content for?

Look I know this means fandom but I have to start planning for what I'm putting in the show next year, it's only 6 months away. I'd love to do some more sewing, maybe make a gunne sax style dress (provided my anxiety will let me wear it out of the house) and I want to find something technically challenging for knitting, maybe lacework? Send me knitting/crafting inspo. I was thinking of maybe picking up counted thread embroidery too (yes I hate myself).

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Star Wars. I've got brain worms about it. I've been microwaving it for months. Its been on my mind constantly, yet I have no thoughts. I'm forcing all of my friends to watch it. I'm rewatching all of it. I know nothing but also everything. I'm being excessively autistic about a background character wearing a cable knit jumper.

Good thing is that it makes conversation with men under 25 incredibly easy. I've made industry connections over a conversation about Lego Star Wars.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Uhhhhhh. My uni's archaeology society? The history society raised my standards high, they do a lot of fun events, whereas the archaeology one is useful but a lot more industry training and connections focused instead of having regular pizza and power-point nights like the history one.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

Hmm. I'm not too sure. I can flip an egg without using anything other than the pan, does that count? Like just wiggle, wiggle, throw it up in the air and catch it.

Are you religious?    

Catholic but in a cool and funky queer way

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A concrete plan of what the hell I'm doing and how to do it. A solution to my joint pain?

Tagging: (only if you want to) @elprupneerg @rights-for-redshirts @doveyluvey @notaghost3 @swagtalia @radioactivehydronerd @hetaari @arthoe-iceland @ratfish-blues and anyone else who sees this is welcome to join in!