#lovely leeann

[rae-gar-targaryen]

between daddy darkling and bad boy billy....

and just the... stark difference that is character playing and actual bin bons....

i'm sorry i'm just really missing writing for his characters as of late so i see his face on my dash and squeal. I'm fine. this is fine.

Have you SEEN the T-Mobile commercial yet? It's the most bin bons thing to ever bons. It's the Hyrise of commercials. 🤣🤣

-- here, have some badboy babe Billy for your sweet tooth. Hope you like red wine and daaaaark chocolate. Nsfw below the cut (fingering and general nastiness, 18+) 😘

You weren't to be trusted.

Billy was aware of the presence of powered individuals -- enhanced, the preferred term was. You didn't possess super strength like the plucky, unyielding P.I. You weren't gifted with an immortal chi. And you certainly weren't bulletproof.

No, your ability bordered on the supernatural. A telekinetic, like "Carrie," but with less... all of that. And you'd proven yourself useful to him -- for the right price, of course.

But for all of your witchy wonderments, the biggest surprise for Billy wasn't that you could draw just anything to you with the power of your mind.

It was how you'd somehow managed to ensnare him.

Drawing him ever-closer with the power of your mind. It was the only explanation for why your eyes haunted his dreams. Why he awoke with the ghost of your touch along his skin, like spidersilk and whispers.

Somewhere along the line, professional had become personal. Far, far too personal. He was consumed. Dark, whiskey-drenched eyes dying of thirst, dying to drink you in.

And the moments he shared with you? He could appreciate your penchant for darkness, destruction. Anarchy. Two halves of a jagged, chaotic whole.

Running wild in the night together. Running, like rivulets of blood and longing stained with starvation. Clashed together. With tongue, lips, teeth, and claws.

"Oh, baby," Billy crooned mockingly, his thumb tracing along your upper lip, a little more force behind the press than necessary, enjoying the sight of blooming color behind your lips the more he forced. "You act so big and bad, don't you? But I know what you are. You're just a nasty little girl who likes to play rough. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah," you breathed. The word left your lips a piteous whine as frustrated tears pricked the outer corners of your eyes, clawing, begging, preening.

Anything for Billy to touch you how you liked.

His other hand cupping your clothed cunt, as he continued to run his thumb along your lips. Playing you. A practiced middle finger now stroking along the center seam of your panties, sliding along your folds, reducing you to doe eyes, whimpers and, "please, please Billy."

Billy preened, pleased that for once it was you at his mercy.

"I'll give you what you want, if you think you can ask for it," he breathed. Smoke, honey, and filthy promises.

Billy regarded you from above. Recklessly beautiful, blown-glass eyes and heated skin, blazing with the good kind of frustration at Billy's not-quite-enough touch. His eyes roved over your neck and clavicle, now studded with teeth marks -- his, of course -- and the beautiful bloom of what would become hickeys in the pale light of morning.

"Please?" You blinked.

And who was he to deny? At mercy of your magic.

A whiskey chuckle leaves Billy's lips as he finally, mercifully, slides two long fingers inside of you, your hips writhing toward his touch.

The destruction he wrought upon you... That you let him... had never been more intoxicating. How you, with the ability to crush him with naught but a thought, would surrender to him, his midnight whims. And you were his. All his. 

You gaze up at your paramour, your innocent doe eyes meeting his, swirling oilpits. His thumb still along your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing his thumb to slide into your mouth, where you bit down lightly, his thumb now caught between your teeth.

No, he thought, you weren't innocent at all. And you weren't to be trusted.

But then again, neither was he.

[hitlikehammers]

taste like loving

rating: t ♥️ cw: pre-relationship-to-established relationship, SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: idiots in love, pickles, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day seven: Love Is Silently Passing Them A Pickle Because You Know It’s Their Favorite (@steddieasitgoes)

@pearynice and @hbyrde36 suffered my languishing over this more than once; it felt wrong to delete it (which was the original plan) 🥒 (and yes I am well aware this is VERY late for @steddielovemonth but I had this one and one more that I never got to post bc schedules and I still wanted to...not-delete them? so the other one will go up sometime before the 29th's over worldwide) ♥️

The first time he notices is the first time they all hang out after he’s discharged. The first time it feels almost normal. Eddie’s still not mobile enough to leave the couch at most—at least a little variety of the one-room view of his bedroom, at least—but this.

This is awesome. Because there’s no hospital to remind him of the way he’s a mishmash of still-healing incisions that he can ignore if he doesn’t move wrong, or breathe to deep, and when he does breathe to deep and reminds himself it’s for laughing, it’s a raucous and joyful thing and it’s wild in a way he never knew he was missing because—or else, he thinks because—probably there wasn’t a deep pit inside him full of all the horrors they saw and stood against together, and so he’s got this new capacity to be bowled over and filled past the brim with a kind of giddy, buoyant relief that’s unbound in ways he probably didn’t dare to even tease at, despite all his ranting about conformity and letting your fucking freak flag fly: he never could have envisioned a time he could be this unbound. Untethered.

Just…fucking free.

Because these people have seen his literal fucking insides, right? One of them held those insides in his hands, held them where they belonged long enough for him to be sitting here cackling with them, aching for the jostling of his laughter but hell if it’s not worth it, if he pops a stitch or two he won’t even fucking complain because these people saw him inside-out, y’know, and from the first he felt safe with them, with all of him, spoken and unspoken because it really felt, for the first time, like all of the things that mattered to the world at large, that could get you killed in the wrong company: it all felt…dulled; distant, after what he’d seen.

What he’d survived.

So in the now: home, on the couch, with the Buckley and Harrington tag-team feature show splitting his fucking sides and making him feel like he’s drowning in only good things and breathing full for the first time in his fucking life—

That’s when he first notices it happen.

They’re opening the boxes with deli sandwiches from Leeanne’s down off Brooklyn, the big towering fuckers with the toothpicks in the center to hold them together, and Eddie’s fucking ecstatic about the Reuben he’s staring down because real-not-hospital-cafeteria food is still an honest goddamn thrill, but he sees Steve flip open his monstrous looking Club and it’s not even all the way flipped back, the top half of the little foldy-box, when Robin slips her equally-big-ass dill spear next to the one lined up against the bread of Steve’s lunch, flashing an overstretched grin as she plops it down:

“For my Dingus,” she nods to him almost graciously and he chuckles before he picks it up and chomps it almost…almost aggressivelyand yes, okay, fine: Eddie notices because he pays attention to his friends, especially some of his very best friends, but yeah, sure, he probably notices Steve’s biting enough to characterize it because, well.

And look, see: after Steve had set himself up as permanent guardian at his bedside?Eddie might not have had all the reasons for it, all the answers to the whys, but he did have Steve Harrington in the flesh beside him always, kinda day and night, and after that? Eddie had stopped telling himself it was useless, the things he was feeling, all the relentless want in him. It might still be hopeless—just because he knew now that Steve swung that nail bat for both teams didn’t mean he’d want Eddie specifically by default—but there was no harm in feeding the deathless little lust-monster that’d lived in him from sophomore year, and that now, fed by the knowledge that Steve Harrington was beauty and brawn and brains in a way no one never expected because it wasn’t theirs, all on top of a heart of fucking 

: the monster was now a full-grown beast that wasn’t…just prone to lust, anymore.

Whatever, though. Eddie could fucking look.

So he noticed the way Robin gave Steve her pickles. The way he playfully accepted and usually leaned into her, grateful and tactile in their shared-brain kind of way.

And if he keeps noticing, what the fuck else is he expected to do? The more he learns, the closer they grow, the stronger and bigger and louder his not-lust creature gets, its stomping like a riot in his pulse save no, that’s actually just his heartbeat for what it is: hopelessly and pathetically and godawfully smitten, kinda recklessly and unrepentantly devoted, and he…

Okay, so in the beginning, Eddie knows it’s a long shot. He knows what he was doing, but it’s easy to play off as something…less. Something just playful, instead of playful-and. He already sits next to Steve when they’re all together, on a floor or a sofa or in a booth: he’s expected there. That is his place. One side him, one side Robin.

Robin even takes across-from-Steve when there aren’t enough spaces. Eddie has somehow…made the cut.

He isn’t throwing a fucking party inside his ribs about it or anything, but.

(Yeah, he is.)

But it starts small, and sorta-almost-casual: when he pops his pickle on Steve’s plate the first time. And Steve blinks at him, tilts his head in that way Eddie associates with softness, with safety, with something so adorably protective, cute and yet let herbal, on alert while breathing slow: and there’s something irresistible in the dichotomy of it that has Eddie’s pulse ramping-up by instinct at just the little gesture, the little tip of the chin and then Steve’s grinning, slow but so big, and at him, and, okay. Okay, yes, fine.

Eddie may or may not be playing this like one of those fucking birds that brings pebbles to court their intended, that drops shining little bits and bobs of nothing special that mean everything special as they try to convince their mate they’re a good bet. It may or may not be a thing he should be at least a little embarrassed of, whatever.

The way Steve chomps with fucking gusto on that pickle though: the way he grins as he chews and keeps his eyes locked on Eddie’s the whole goddamn time?

Eddie’s not gonna be embarrassed of jack shit, if he gets that in exchange.

He’s also sure as shit not going to stop, when he gets that in exchange.

He tries to up his game as the gesture extends, expands: he does his best to make it clear that he fucking loves his beloved briny cucumbers, that the way he saves them and gifts them to Steve isn’t just mimicry of his platonic soulmate; that it’s deliberate and intentional and he’s willingly and willfully forgoing something he loves for something he loves—yeah, yeah he’s ready to say that, at least in his head, because the days turn to weeks turn to months and there’s no fucking denying it anymore—so very much more, and he just…wants to make sure Steve notices. Knows it and, like, whether he decides to act on it or not, Eddie just wants him to know that a choice was there to make, right? Like, he doesn’t want it to go unnoticed.

It’s only once Steve sucks half a spear through his lips, hollows his mouth wholly unnecessarily and positively sinfully, and puckers around the pickle with wide pleading but teasing, goddamn teasing eyes trained on Eddie expectantly with the bare half sticking out his mouth, an invitation from where he sits next to Eddie at the table: it’s only then that Eddie thinks maybe there was hope after all.

He bites the loose half clear just shy of brushing Steve’s lips because he’ll be damned if their first kiss—if this is where it’s headed, if this is really possible and a thing—he’ll be fucking damned if he kisses Steve Harrington for the first time over a fucking vegetable.

Given the way Steve’s lips ultimately close around a pout all on their own: Eddie thinks…yeah. Yeah, that’s where they’re headed.

Their first kiss is very much not-pickle-flavored, but they laugh about the almost of it, once they settle comfortably into a version of ‘we’ that’s not entirely unlike the one they had before; this one just says the love part out loud. Which honestly kind of highlights how much it was there, just unspoken, almost the whole goddamn time. Which is wild.

Then of course it grows. There’s always a jar of pickles on their shopping list, because there’s always a need when the last one’s always empty. Sometimes because he wanted something to eat in the middle of the night. Sometimes because he feeds a slice to Steve Lady and the Tramp style, and does lick the taste from him after, now, not because it isn’t momentous; kissing Steve. But more because it’s…it’s going to be momentous again, whenever he wants.

For, like, ever.

Though it’s carrying on in that fashion that kinda leads in to, about a year-and-change and going strong, Eddie getting his mind goddamn blown.

It starts, mostly, with Eddie thinking—mistakenly—that his boyfriend’s not gonna be late for dinner and honestly, Eddie just doesn’t want the spear to get all warm and floppy so he figures he’ll quick eat the ones he set out, cannot let a delicious pickle go to waste, and he’ll get a fresh one for the plates when Steve gets in, no problem, he’ll just—

He’s maybe almost fucking fellating the pickle when Steve clears his throat unexpectedly from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting?” the arch of his brow is enviable, and the giddy delight in his tone is delectable, and Eddie wants him to come over and kiss the fucking blush he feels just lightly heat his cheeks as he tries to decide what to do because…

Eddie’s never not given his pickle to Steve, or not shared his pickle with Steve, in Steve’s presence, okay? It’s just…that’s for Steve.

And Steve probably wouldn’t be grossed out with Eddie’s slobber all over it, but, like, he deserves better by default any—

Steve’s next to him before he fully notices him crossing the distance, and he’s nudging Eddie’s hand with just a finger, pressing the pickle past his lips, slow enough to chew but steady with the pressure, and hell if it’s not erotic as fuck.

Steve goddamn Harrington.

And he smirks when Eddie swallows with a gulp, leans to kiss him and comments kind of idly:

“That was hot, babe.”

Eddie huffs, and then looks at the pickle-less plates and remembers.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart, I’d have kept it for you, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be—“

“Eds, relax,” Steve laughs, unbothered; “you don’t have to save me the pickle. I buy you whole jars.”

Eddie frowns a little, because that wording sound…off. He’s not quite sure why, until Steve picks up on his confusion, the grit caught in the works that he can’t pick out, because Steve always notices; and Steve always finds the catch to smooth it clean.

He’s amazing that way.

“They’re your favorites,” he goes and grabs the jar in question from the fridge, pops the lid and meticulously catches the drip on the glass lip before offering it to Eddie with a smile so warm Eddie can feel it in his knees, because it fucking makes them melty and shit even now; he prays it’ll never stop making them melty and shit, honestly, but—

“I never even really liked them, until you.”

And that’s the part that catches Eddie up entirely, almost chokes him on the end of his hand-fed pickle feast.

“What,” he pauses, clears his throat; “what d’ya mean?”

“Robin fucking hates them,” Steve shrugs, still smiling that knee-targeting smile; “so she always pawned them off on me, and I didn’t have any strong feelings either way, but then,” he reaches, traces Eddie’s lips and gathering any stray juice before sucking his thumb between his lips to clean it off. Eddie almost fucking feels his pupils dilate.

“You know I wanted it to mean something from the beginning,” Steve says simply, because Eddie did know; “and then when I found out it wasn’t just, like, convenient, but you liked them so much yourself, then it felt,” and then Steve’s biting his lip, which is that knife’s edge between adorable and hot-hot-sex that regularly threatens to explode Eddie goddamn brain, but than he’s smiling again, a little softer, a lot more fond:

“It felt like they meant you liked me,” Steve ducks his head solely to glance through his lashes, a little bashful even still; “it felt like it maybe meant you, you know, maybe, like maybe you loved me?”

And Eddie can’t handle the question mark there, dives in and kisses Steve sound and sure and licks his way in to rub away that bit of punctuation that could ever possibly cast any doubt on Eddie’s feelings at basically any point they’ve shared fucking air.

“It tastes like that, now.”

Eddie cocks his head a little.

“What tastes like what, baby?”

Steve leans and licks into Eddie mouth again, but this time it’s got direction, like he’s seeking something, but then just as quick he pulls back, though not far, and looks up at Eddie with a little extra curl to his lips as he murmurs between them:

“I fucking adore pickles, now. Because they kinda taste like you loving me.”

And Jesus H., this man is gonna kill him.

And Eddie—who can do nothing less than capture Steve’s lips again and let him taste this particular flavor of loving as long and as deep as he wants—Eddie kinda thinks that’ll be a fucking glorious way to go.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[braveblackbutterfly]

This is probably one of my favorite Titan Luz art Dana posted today on Instagram. Luz look so amazing with the braids!

I love this artwork so much that I kinda sorta really want to try my hands at making a redraw of it.

It's been a minute and a half since I made a redraw from a non-owl house/screenshot from an episode. So I'm a little nervous about screwing it up...but I want to try.

If I do redraw it, it will be sometime this weekend or during my spring break next week.

If you want to see my art style, please check out my "leeann art" tag to see my redraws.

Note 1: Not an "artist" artist. My fanart is not a hundred notes level. This is just a fun hobby of mines. I'm happy with whatever notes I get.

Note 2: I do not own this art/photo.

[fandomxpreferences]

More Hearts Than Mine Part 11

In which you go dress shopping.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hangman x afab!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

TW:none

Pinterest Mood Board (this is how I envision it but please imagine whatever you like!)

“Oh my god. That’s the one.” You hear Phoenix exclaim and you laugh at her reaction. This is the fourth dress you’ve tried on and she’s had the same response to each one. You walk up to the mirror in the small boutique and look over yourself.

You do a small spin to see the back and scrunch your nose. “I don’t know.” You say unsure of how you feel about it. “It doesn’t feel like the one.”

“What do y’all think?” You ask turning to the other women who accompanied you. Catherine had insisted on bringing you to a designer shop, stating that whatever you want is yours.

“I think you look breathtaking in anything, but I’m biased.” Your mom smiles and you grin.

“It’s pretty but it doesn’t have that wow factor. I think you should try a few more on.” Jane says and you nod at her.

“That’s what I was thinking too.” You agree before turning to walk back to the dressing room.

The next dress that the bridal consultant puts on you literally has you at a loss for words. You love it and your eyes prick as you imagine yourself walking down the aisle toward Jake in it. The consultant can see your expression and adds a few accessories to bring it all together.

You don’t even have to show everybody to know this is your dress. The door to the room opens and you slowly make your way out to the platform that puts you on display for the group.

The second their eyes land on you, everybody collectively gasps. You give a bright smile and stare at your reflection.

“Okay, that is the one!” Josie declares and you meet her eyes in the mirror as a single tear cascades down your cheek. You nod vigorously and turn to take in the back and train.

“Yeah, I really think it is.” You confirm with a watery laugh.

A few minutes and a dozen pictures later, you’re standing at the counter while they double-check your measurements and place the order.

“Okay,” the consultant begins. “For the dress, veil, and accessories the total comes to just over $9,000.”

You almost choke on your own spit and your eyes bulge. “Excuse me?” You sputter while turning to face Catherine. “You can’t pay that!”

The woman shakes her head gently and places her hand over yours. “I can and I will. Money is no object, especially when it comes to my only sons wife.” She hands over her platinum Amex card and you stand with your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Once she’s done paying, you meet the rest of your group outside. “How about lunch to celebrate?” Your mom suggests and Britney eagerly agrees.

“Yes, I’m starving.” She exaggerates and you roll your eyes playfully. You all decide on a place nearby and get in your respective cars to meet there. Your mom and sisters rode with you and the four of you climb into your car.

You’ve barely shut your door when you hear LeeAnn’s voice. “How much was all that? I saw a pair of shoes for $600!” She inquires and your mom frowns at her.

“That’s rude to ask, LeeAnn.” She scolds before turning to face you with an expectant look.

“Really?” You ask and your mom shrugs.

“What? It may be rude to ask but we were all thinking it.” She says while bumping your shoulder gently.

You start the car and glance at your mom. “$9,000.” You utter and her eyebrows shoot up.

“Come again?” She says with complete disbelief and you repeat yourself.

“Holy shit!” Britney shouts and your mom is so taken aback she doesn’t even correct her.

You whip around to face her with an exasperated expression. “I told you they're loaded! Especially now that his mom is divorcing Jacob. She’s bleeding him dry, she pretty much has an endless supply of money. And not assets, like cold hard cash.”

“How much do you think she has?” Britney questions and you shrug.

“Cash? Last Jake heard it was just shy of $500 million and that was almost ten years ago. Investments and assets? Like $1.5 billion. Jake’s dad may be a piece of shit, but he’s a good businessman. He inherited the family oil business and turned it into a tycoon.” You explain and the car falls silent.

“You would never know by looking at them. I mean Catherine very clearly takes care of herself and dresses nicely. But I never would have thought she’s a billionaire.” Your mom comments and you glance her way as you pull into a parking space.

“You know what they say.” You remark. “Money talks, wealth whispers.”

“I guess so.” Your mom concludes as you step out of the car and head towards the restaurant.

Once inside, the eight of you are seated and take a few minutes to look over the menu before ordering. You hand the waitress the laminated book and turn to face your future sisters-in-law.

“So,” you begin. “I’m sorry I didn’t plan anything fancy but after the recent weeks I don’t want to wait.” The two women look at you with anticipation and you smile. “Will you be my bridesmaids?”

You hardly finish your question before you’re met with eager acceptance and you laugh at the women’s reactions.

“Of course!” Josie yells and Catherine shushes her with a small laugh.

Your lips quirk up into a grin that causes the corners of your eyes to wrinkle and your heart warms at their enthusiasm.

Both of your sisters are also bridesmaids and Phoenix is your maid of honor. You’d originally planned to have Britney carry the title, but decided it was better to have your sisters be equal. Plus, Phoenix will be around to help plan the parties and carry out the maid of honor duties.

Two hours later, you walk back into your shared home with Jake after dropping off your family and fling yourself onto the couch. Jake hears you come in and quickly runs to you.

“Hey, darlin’.” He greets you with an adoring look and kneels down to take your shoes off for you. You let out a grateful moan at the relief and give him a tired smile.

“Thank you. My feet are killing me.” You groan and he looks up at you sympathetically.

“How about I give you a foot rub and you tell me about your day?” He suggests and you nod frantically. He joins you on the couch and you turn to place your feet in his lap, sighing as he digs into the throbbing muscles.

“Did you find a dress?” He asks and your eyes twinkle as you think about it.

“I did. It’s beautiful, I think you’re going to love it.” You beam and Jake hums.

“You could make a paper bag beautiful, sweets.”

You roll your eyes but Jake doesn’t miss the glint of affection and blush that creeps up your neck.

“ I feel bad though.” You say softly and Jake frowns. “Why?” He asks and you avert eye contact.

“The dress and accessories were almost $10,000 and then she bought everybody lunch too.” You tell him while running a hand through your hair and he shakes his head.

“That’s nothing to her. She’s spent more than that on a purse before.” He reasons and your shoulders slump.

“I know,” you sigh dejectedly. “But I still feel bad. I didn’t grow up with money like that. It’s such a foreign concept to me that someone has that to just spend, especially on me.”

Jake’s features soften and he opens up his arms. You crawl into them and lay your head on his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart. You feel him kiss the top of your head and shift to look up at him.

“Listen to me. You deserve nice things. Hell, you deserve the world. There’s nothing wrong with letting someone give you that.” He says gently and you nod.

“One day I might believe that, but right now it’s weird.” You whisper and Jake squeezes you tighter.

“Well get used to it, pretty girl. As long as you’re with me you’ll never want for a thing, even if I have to cross the ocean to get it.” His tone is light but you can tell he means it with every fiber of his being.

You lean up and press your lips to his and his hand comes up to cup your jaw. You pull back after a few seconds and lean your forehead against his. You feel his thumb run across your bottom lip and open your eyes to see him staring at you already.

“I love you so much.” You confess and he gives you a chaste kiss. “I know, darlin’. I love you too.”

Taglist:

@blue-aconite​

@drakelover78​

@piceous21

@abaker74​

@dempy

@tcfanmania

@tsnelf7

@xoxabs88xox

@manyfandomsfanvergent

@rosiahills22

@xhangmanlover

@callmemana

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@ssprayberrythings

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@misshoneypaper

@amysteryspot

@luckyladycreator2

@eyes-capone

@smoothdogsgirl

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@lovelyladymayyy​

@flawssy227

@persephonesportal

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@withakindheartx

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@loveless-simp

@formulapierre

@ccristata

[mostthingskenobi]

Apparently I'm really late to the news that Tumblr downsized its staff. I know there's a running joke that Tumblr is always dying... But if one day it does happen to disappear, here are some other places you can find me (I really hope Tumblr doesn't die, because it's so unique and I love it!):

Instagram: most_things_kenobi

Website: mostthingskenobi.com

Patreon: patreon.com/MostThingsKenobi

Archive of Our Own (AO3): Sulis57

Twitch (I haven't started using it yet but I hope to this year): MostThingsKenobi

YouTube: MostThingsKenobi

Twitter (this account is run by my podcast co-host, LeeAnn): MTK_Podcast

Spotify: Most Things Kenobi - A Star Wars Podcast

Apple Podcasts: Most Things Kenobi - A Star Wars Podcast

Google Podcasts: Most Things Kenobi - A Star Wars Podcast

Amazon Music: Most Things Kenobi - A Star Wars Podcast

[harryissuchalittleshit]

What kind of dresses do you see the Weasleys wives + Ginny getting married in?

Fleur

So I imagine Fleur would wear a very simple but elegant dress. It would have enough detailing to keep everyone’s attention without taking away from her natural beauty, and the tiara would look amazing braided into her hair.

Angelina

Angelina wore her mother’s wedding dress, it was her something old and meant everything to her and her father, Micah. Later on both LeeAnne, Freddie’s wife, and Roxanne would wear the same gown. Though it would be heavily hemmed for the pair of them. Under the right sleeve all three of them would be wearing thin silver bracelets, a something borrowed from the first Roxanne.

Hermione

I love the idea of Hermione having something that she can really dance in. Her dress would flow around her body, moving as she did, and she would be barefoot for the reception, not caring how offset she and Ron looked in photos later on. For her something blue, her mother Jane would braid tiny blue flowers into her hair, making it look like a crown of flowers on top of her head.

Audrey

Audrey and Percy eloped, so she put on the first white sundress she saw in her closet. But if she had the choice she would,be gotten married in a dress similar to the one below. She did grab her brother’s old Ravenclaw tie to pull her hair back and as her something blue.

Ginny

It was the one day that she actually wanted to look like the most beautiful girl in the room. She broke the one rule her mum wanted, which was for her to have sleeves, but Ginny couldn’t help but show off her arms. She also had Great Auntie Muriel’s tiara on her special day, Harry took it off of her head before they went to take photos. She never needed to remind him that she was a queen.

[the-leeannemontgomery]

Since I can't message anyone, I am using this post to wish all of my loved friends on Tumblr a Merry Christmas. I miss you all. I hope Santa is good to everyone. xoxo...

Leeanne

[oneautisticperson]

Okay, I get it. But can we also...

This day, the 1st November 2023 will be the last Autistics Speaking Day. This day started back in 2010 as a day for Autistic people to flood the internet with our messages and thoughts. While I have been very busy with my work, I thought I would contribute one last entry.

Okay, I get it.

Planning meals with me around is hard. I am so restricted in what I am able to eat and it is an annoyance. Good chance I can’t eat anything at that restaurant, I won’t eat anything from take-away shop etc. Guess what? It is an annoyance for me to. One of my workplaces has a work lunch coming up and I have to weigh up whether it is worth going. It is at a restaurant I have never been to and doesn’t seem to be located near places I know I can eat at so I can’t just get there early and grab something to eat somewhere else first. I would love not to have this problem. To not have to bring emergency food when I leave for a trip, to not have to eat beforehand when I go to most social gatherings.

But can we also…

Talk about the fact that when my best friend and I made pizza at her house for the first time, I nearly cried because I am rarely included in meals to that extent?

Mention the comfort that familiar foods bring me? If I am having a bad day, I know exactly what I need. It is not just eating the food but also the familiar smells.

Discuss that the same reason that makes food difficult for me brings me so much joy in other ways? My tolerance and enjoyment of show rides for example. Removing one would likely remove the other so I will take the good with the bad.

Okay, I get it.

I see you rolling your eyes when I try to talk about something that interests me. Show rides, neurodiversity, autism, Ned Kelly etc. You have heard me discuss this before and it is boring.

But can we also…

Mention that I have had to listen to you talk about basketball or other things a lot as well?

Discuss how great I feel when I find someone to discuss show rides, neurodiversity etc. with? Online groups in particular have been great with this.

Okay, I get it.

You find my tendency to withdraw rude. I spend too much time alone or with my cats.

But can we also…

Discuss that the noise is too much for me at times? Why must the tv, radio or Spotify always be on in the background? What is wrong with silence?

Discuss that my withdrawal also helps me socialise. It is a balance. I just don’t have the energy to socialise all the time. Withdrawing for a time means I get some recharge time and can socialise more afterwards.

Mention that being alone can be fun as well as beneficial?

Okay, I get.

You feel the need to tell me your perspective all the time.

But can we also…

Discuss my perspective. Discuss my strengths as well as my limitations. Discuss what makes me happy.

There has been attention on moving away from discussing deficits and instead discussing interests and strengths when working with autistic people. This needs to go beyond professionals and be common for families, friends and the wider community.

Written by oneautisticperson aka Leeanne Marshall

[bernard-is-tired]

Chocolate pudding spell for self love/love

2 egg yolks

2 and 1/2 tbsp of cornstarch

2 cups of milk

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 coca powder

Rose petals for garish

In a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks for about 60 seconds until light yellow and increased in volume, then whisk in the cornstarch and about 1/4 cup of the milk. Once smooth and incorporated, set aside.

Place the sugar, cocoa, and remaining milk in a saucepan, and bring to 180-190ºF. Remove the pan from the heat and, while whisking constantly (while your doing that you can chant whatever intentions you want) dribble the hot cocoa into the egg cornstarch mixture all at once baby. Pour everything back into the saucepan and cook over medium high heat, whisking constantly, until the pudding comes to a full boil. Then throw that bitch in the fridge with plastic wrap pressed to the top of it so it doesn’t get a skin, Leeann it in there for at least 30 minutes.

[sortasirius]

Harringrove Week Day 1: Freddy Krueger

Words: 2312

Billy really needed to stop getting suckered into shit he didn’t want to go to.

Look, it’s not like he hated Halloween or anything.  Donning a costume, pretending to be someone else for a few hours, that sort of thing appealed to him.

But he really wasn’t a fan that his friends continued to use this kind of thing to try and set him up.

They thought he was “lonely.”

Which, yeah, they had a point, but as long as he was away from Hawkins, he was fine being lonely.

He had a job he liked, he had friends, he even managed to cobble together something like a good relationship with Max.  Lonely was fine, better than the alternative of being stuck in Indiana anyway.

But he’d been begged by his coworker Leeann and his own little slice of Hawkins, her girlfriend Robin, (who he swore was the only halfway decent person to come out of that place), to come to their Halloween party, promising that they had the love of his life hidden up their sleeves.

He’d agreed to come on two conditions.  One, he was allowed to get as shitfaced as he wanted to and two, he could dress up as Rocky. There had been a lot of bitter complaining, but they had relented in the end.  

And so here he was, standing in front of their door, the promise of free beer winning out on his desire not to speak to anyone he didn’t know tonight.

It took about thirty seconds before the door was pulled open, orange light and loud pop music spilling out onto the front step. He blinked at the shadow of the person in the doorway.

“Rob?  That you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side to try and see through the mask they were wearing.

“Hey hey,” she leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.  Or rather, make him smell the rubber of the Halloween mask, “Thanks for coming.”

“What’re you supposed to be?” he asked her, looking her up and down.

“Leatherface.  Duh,” she raised a chainsaw to make the point, “Did Leeann tell you?  I even forced my friend to dress up as Freddy Krueger.  He’s such a priss he normally wouldn’t touch it, too protective of his hair,” she rolled her eyes, “It’s about the hat or something.  We did the full thing, she did the makeup, I did the costume.  He looks just like the movie.  But don’t worry, you’ll still like him.”

“Oh yeah?” he rolled his eyes, “Don’t push the narrative too hard, you ran that last guy off.”

She rolled her eyes in her own turn, pulling him inside and tearing off her mask at the same time.

“He sucked anyway, and not in the good way,” she slammed the door behind him, “Come on, I know you want a drink.”

“Good call,” he grinned down at her, “So.  Where’d you meet him anyway?  This guy?”

Robin didn’t answer, but looked over the crowd milling around her living room.

“There he is!”

Out of the crowd, a red and green sweater was wending its way towards them, a fedora stuffed onto the person’s head.  Billy had to give Leeann credit, her makeup skills were insane.  The guy looked like he walked straight out of the movie, complete with the freaky fucking metal fingernails that Billy had absolutely hated in the theater.

“Damn,” he leaned forward slightly, making out the dark red slashes on his face, indicating burns, “Leeann really fucked him up.”

“He’s okay looking without all that stuff,” she smirked at him, “I mean, if you’re into that.”

“Okay Buckley.”

The guy walked straight up to Robin, not paying Billy any attention.

“Robin, I am not going to keep doing laps just so you can show off your skills.”

“You’re our pet project, Steve,” she patted his cheek, glancing at Billy with an evil sort of grin on her face.

Billy blinked, leaning closer, recognizing the face under all the layers of carefully applied makeup.

No fucking way.

“Harrington?”

“Christ,” he jumped about a foot in the air, making the stunningly realistic makeup a lot less intimidating, “What are you doing here?”

“The fuck do you mean?” he looked from Robin, back to Harrington, “I’m from here.”

“I didn’t realize you knew each other,” Robin said this in a way that made it very plain she did know that they knew each other, and was thoroughly enjoying this so far, “What a small world.”

“Bullshit,” Billy snarked at her, “You know Hawkins isn’t a big enough town for us not to know each other. Just conveniently left that out when you were trying to set us up?”

“Set us up?” Steve’s eyes were very wide, making the prosthetic he was wearing stretch, “What do you mean, set us up?  This is the guy you’ve been talking about?”

Billy was grappling with the idea that Steve Harrington, King Steve, was into guys, and didn’t catch Robin’s answer.

“Well I guess I’ll leave you two to…catch up,” Robin grinned at both of them, then melted out of sight. Billy stared at Steve, and Steve stared right back, a blush creeping across his skin, mottling under the patchiness of the makeup.

“You really went all out,” Billy gestured awkwardly at his costume, “Don’t remember you being this into Halloween in Hawkins.”

“Yeah well,” he shrugged, “Leeann is into theatrical makeup and Robin has been learning to sew for the past,” he checked his watch, “Five years now.  So I got pulled into it.”

“Suits you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Wow thanks.  Good to know I’m suited to a burn victim that kills people in their sleep.”

“Yeah well, at least you’re nice enough to do it after they get laid.”

He laughed, and all of a sudden Billy was seventeen years old again, doing anything he could to get King Steve to look at him the way he looked at Nancy Wheeler.

“The fuck are you doing here, anyway?” he asked, “I thought you’d be married to Wheeler with four kids by now.”

Something hardened in his face, but he smiled again, and Billy could see the binding of the prosthetic and the makeup starting to peel away around his mouth.

“Didn’t work out.”

“I can see that, still doesn’t explain what you’re doing in California.”

“Robin decided to move out here and kept badgering me about it, so I figured…you know, to try and see what all the fuss is about.”

“Yeah?” he looked him up and down, trying desperately to reach that arrogance that used to come naturally to him, “And how’s the west coast treating you?”

“I like it.  I like the beach.  Could do without the heat in October though.”

“It was seventy today.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “And it was forty in Hawkins.”

“The sun is good for you,” he said, sweeping his hair out of his face, “Not that we’d have known in fucking Indiana,” he paused, steeling himself, “They really talked you up, you know that?  Convinced me I was going to be married by morning.”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide another smile.

“They did the same to me. Guess I talked too much about you after all that.”

Billy blinked.

“You talked about me?”

He flushed again.  The mottling effect sort of worked though, with the whole Freddy Krueger thing.

“I mean…I mentioned you. Robin knows Max so.”

“Yeah, that’s how we met,” he supplied, “Max told her to come to the library and pester me, since she can’t do it all the way in Philly.  And well…Rob isn’t one to take an assignment like that lightly.”

“She refused to leave you alone, didn’t she?”

“I don’t think I was the reason she kept coming back,” he smiled, pointing at Robin and Leeann holding court in the center of the living room, “I think I was just an excuse.”

“She seems really happy,” Steve said, seemingly more to himself than to Billy, “I was glad she found someone.”

“So now she’s desperate for you to find someone too?” Billy asked, watching him carefully, wishing he could really see that pretty face under all the makeup.

“I guess.”

“And she’ll settle for an old high school rival?”

“Is that what we were?”

His voice was quieter, but somehow, just like it always was with Steve, everything else just seemed to fade away when they looked at one another.

“What would you call it, pretty boy?”

He let out a stifled little noise at the nickname and Billy grinned, showing all his teeth the way he used to.

“I don’t know,” he stared over Billy’s shoulder, eyes unfocused, “I don’t know what I thought about you.”

“I was a shithead.”

“And you’re not now?”

Billy shrugged, still grinning.

“Maybe not as much.  Grew up, learned some shit, met people that I thought I’d hate that I didn’t.  Not saying I’m a great person or anything, but…”

He trailed off, not sure what to say, but Steve didn’t seem to mind.  Instead, he raised his bottle to Billy and pulled the stupid hat off his head.

“To growing into better people,” he clinked their bottles together.  They stared at each other for another moment, before Billy said,

“You wanna get drunk with me, Harrington?”

It was a little embarrassing how quickly Billy was able to get drunk nowadays.  In high school, it felt like nothing could touch him, he could drink like a fish and never really feel it, but as he’d gotten older, and the hangovers had gotten worse, he’d started drinking less and less.  So now, he was leaning against Steve in the kitchen and giggling at his splotchy makeup after less than five beers.

“Your makeup’s peeling, Freddy,” he whispered, running the tips of his fingers along the side of Steve’s jaw, which was flushed from the alcohol, “People aren’t going to think you’re scary anymore.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” his voice was lower too, and Billy realized they were standing closer than they needed to, chests only a couple of inches apart, though the kitchen was empty.

“Rocky isn’t supposed to be scary.”

Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair like a nervous tic.

“Not Rocky.  You.”

Billy took a half step back, ready to put his guard back up.

“The fuck do you mean by that?”

“You’re not so scary anymore,” he moved forward so they were even closer now, “Not that you were scary before.  Just annoying.”

He felt himself grinning as he remembered all those times he got in Steve’s face, just so he could look at him.

“Got you looking at me, though.”

“You never needed to be annoying for that.”

Billy licked his lips, feeling like there was cotton in his throat.

“Admitting you looked at me, huh?”

“And if I am?  Still looking?”

Billy leaned forward, making their noses brush slightly, relishing the feeling of Steve shuddering at the contact.

“I would show you, but I’m not interested in kissing Freddy Krueger.”

“Good thing I’m not him, then.  Come on.”

Steve pulled Billy into Robin and Leeann’s tiny bathroom, shutting the door with a snap behind him. they watched each other in the mirror, the starkly bright light throwing their faces into relief.  It made Steve’s makeup look somehow even more realistic.

It was a painstaking process, removing all the shit on his face.  Billy ended up sitting on the counter with a bottle of spirit gum remover, whatever the fuck that was, that Robin had given him, and peeling off the layers of silicone and latex off his face.

“This is really going to fuck up my skin,” Steve moaned, watching as the burns of Freddy Krueger were peeled back to reveal his own bright pink skin, “I’m going to break out like a thirteen year old.”

“This is why I don’t let people fuck with my face,” Billy told him sagely, hooking a leg around his waist as he tried to pull away, “Don’t run from me, it’ll probably make it hurt worse.”

“You could at least be gentle,” he grumbled, not quite meeting Billy’s eyes.

“I am being gentle,” he shot back, “Come on, just one more pull.”

Steve groaned theatrically as the last of the prosthetic was pulled away and thrown into the sink.  He looked up at Billy, all patchy and pink and stupidly gorgeous.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“How do I look?”

“Like a victim of leprosy.”

Steve pulled a face, pushing at Billy’s chest, but he didn’t back away.  Billy realized that he actually couldn’t really back away, because his leg was still holding him in place.

Billy’s mouth was going dry again, and his eyes flicked from Steve’s down to his mouth.

“If you wanted-” he made to reach for the packet of makeup wipes on the counter, but before he could finish, Steve’s lips were on his.

There are very few things in life that somehow surpass expectations, but kissing Steve was definitely one of them.  It didn’t matter that he tasted like makeup and latex, it didn’t matter that he spilled Billy’s beer all over the floor in his enthusiasm, all that mattered was that he kissed like he was drowning, and Billy was the air.

Billy tangled his hands in his hair, smiling against his mouth as Steve’s own hands raked down his bare back.

He couldn’t have told anyone how long they stayed like that, until the door banged open and they were interrupted by a whoop of laughter from Robin, who tore out of the bathroom, shouting,

“Leeann!  I told you the Freddy Krueger thing would work!”

They looked at one another, breaking into laughter as Robin crowed that she needed to find a camera to send a picture to Max.

[rae-gar-targaryen]

i've missed youuuuuuu

and i wrote things! i'm doing it!

but i've been reading a shit ton too as i got my bday gift early. a kindle paperwhite!

Oh my darling!!! I am SO excited to read anything and all things that you write.

I ALSO just got my very first Kindle!! Ahhh twins!!!! What are you reading on there? Anything you recommend? I'm reading anything I can get my hands on by Taylor Adams.

[julia-bunncat]

Bunbun!! Welcome back! I’ve miss you! 🥰 I recently went through your blog and I’m curious about your new Shinsai AU~ I’d love to here about it when you have the time. ✨👀✨ Also, I hope you have a lovely day! 💖

Awww, thank you so much for the question and such sweet words, Leeann ^^ I missed too! 🥰 And actually, ahah… During the time I was away, not one or two Shinsai-oriented AUs were added in my collection 😅 Moreover, each one of them contains some monstrosity of Shuichi or Korekiyo, so I wasn’t sure you'd like it… But since you are interested, I will try to tell you at least about one! (and I even have a sketch made by my bestie! 🤗💗) Especially since, due to the recently released V3 merch for Halloween it seems very appropriate 😂🎃

yeah I mean it :>

Let's call it "Spiritual Marriage to a Fox" ~

Often the ideas for my AUs are generated under the inspiration of arts. This was no exception, but since I can not attach here foreign art without permission (and get this permission too) – I just describe it. In this image, Korekiyo, wearing Japanese traditional clothes, with black fox ears and tail, is sitting behind bars, tied with a red rope. Instead of the usual mask, the lower half of his face is covered by a thin white cloth (like a veil for eastern dances) with the inscription «Truth» on it. And Kiyo’s look is rather sad, even sympathetic... So, yeah, situation «kitsune! Shinguji is imprisoned» becomes the starting point ✨

Shuichi, in turn, took on the role of junior priest of the Saihara family. The cunning fox is imprisoned exactly where he serves. Moreover, Shuichi knows that his senior mentors are about to torture Kiyo through various rituals – and he must take part in it... But he had doubts. His uncle taught him that it's always possible to negotiate with the otherwordly forces, and that extreme measures should be taken only if the Yokai are seriously dangerous. So he decided to risk. Just look at the kitsune first... Then let him out. And if anything went wrong he was even willing to give the beast his tiny life – to let him drink his blood so he wouldn’t hurt others...

But he didn’t know... that just by stepping into the dungeon he was dooming himself to a completely different fate, where his selfless and sincere desire to understand another being would not justify.

It sounds frightening, but actually everything is even funny in its own way (if you look at it from the outside, not from Shuichi’s point of view) :D In this universe Korekiyo is not a standard kitsune, but a whole deity Kūko, which, in fact, allowed itself to be imprisoned (Just because after 1000+ years of life, these creatures begin to be more interested in people and lead a similar lifestyle. Specifically Korekiyo wanted to understand the nature of human fear, anger, despair and superstition, so he pretended to be a standard kitsune xD). He has great power, is able to foresee the future and freely manipulate human consciousness... But hardly uses it, especially when he’s forgotten for a long time and only 💕Shui💕chi💕 offers a helping hand.

So... Yeah :'0 He instantly falls in love with Saihara ~ Moreover, Kiyo is sure that it's decided by fate! That Shuichi is the man with whom he is destined to enter into an eternal strong marriage!! First and only 🥰 :D

One small conversation between them – and Kiyo, believing in the vision he has, in fact, takes advantage of Shuichi’s good intentions. Under the pretext of being grateful for his release, he offers Shuichi to enter into some kind of "partnership": Kiyo gets a person through whom he can continue to explore the human world; and Shuichi gets all sorts of benefits: protection, deliverance from misfortunes + senior mentors will not judge him for yokai's salvation.

“From now on, your life will change... but only for the better.”

And the truth is, the priest had no choice. He didn’t know where to run. Didn't know how to convince his fellow-novices that the yokai he had released was not dangerous to humans. But most of all, he didn't want to be alone, as he had always been...

“I am Shuichi, the eldest son of the Saihara family, junior priest and probably the most naive man who still walks the earth. Because, um... I think, I agree with your offer.”

But OF COURSE, Kiyo didn't specify to him that his offer is actually a marriage proposal ;)))

This sketch illustrates how it will happen...

Yes. Yes. Shuichi will be tricked into marrying a supernatural powerful being! And he’ll be angry. He'll be broken. But Korekiyo never lied for a second about the terms of this complicated marriage. He tied himself to Shuichi with his own hands (or lips if you wish xD) to be eternally devoted to him from now on!! 😍

And though this plot is full of questionable, even forcing moments… As you may have noticed, there is again a mythology where everything has its own specific laws that paradoxically work 😅 In fact, this is kind of a branch of my main yokai! AU, but without emphasis on modernity. I like to experiment with the OTP's conditions; to speculate how hard the background will prevent the emergence of their love... So hope you and others will find it at least curious :^ (and I’m always ready to clarify something or add details)

[silverskye13]

you are the reason I like cowboys, I now listen to country music on the daily and it has taken over my life so I thank you for this. I grew up in a household that literally fucking hated country music(like it wasn't allowed in the house hate) so this is kind of like a awakening for me so ye :]

Welcome to the cowboy fields! Please receive your standard issue six-shooter, hunting knife and cowboy hat. Make sure all horses are picketed with access to their necessities.

You hit like, a major nerve about country music. Probably because it's 1am. And I just ran down the longest rabbit trail of nostalgia. So even though you didn't ask: here's a LOT of country music recs under the cut.

As someone who was raised on super patriotic post 9/11 pop-country music and then spent most of their adult life running away from it, I'm really envious you get access to it now that it's diversifying itself again! If you want some older (90s) recs, Shania Twain, LeeAnn Rimes and Keith Urban used to be favorites of mine. Rascal Flatts was the only "boy band" I ever obsessed over, and their cover of "Life is a Highway" is always a banger.

Keith Urban's "Somebody Like You" and "Who Wouldn't Wanna Be Me" still make me think of sunny days gunning it down the highway on the way to visit family in North Carolina. "Would You Go With Me" by Josh Turner is a love song I'm still hoping I find a love worthy of. It's also really hard to go wrong with Carrie Underwood. "Before He Cheats," is terrifying, amazing, powerful. "Blowing Smoke" by Kacey Musgrave is A Vibe. Miranda Lambert makes me think of my sister. She captures the same powerful-woman-murders-her-husband vibes as early Carrie Underwood, and "Mama's Broken Heart" was a favorite Im-having-a-mental-breakdown song for a lot of the girls in our high school. Reba McEntire's "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia" is epic and unforgettable. "Suds in the Bucket" by Sara Evans is also very very good.

I'd also like to honorable mention: "Rain is a Good Thing" by Luke Bryan because I'm from semi-rural Indiana where we grow... A lot of corn. You understand a song about corn and whiskey would make every Indiana resident unironically turnt as hell. "I Loved Her First" by Heartland was played at every country wedding for a solid 5 years after it was released. "Going Through Hell (Before the Devil Even Knows You're There)" by Rodney Atkins was very inspirational the first 50 times I heard it on the radio. "Alright" by Darius Rucker blew me out of the water, because when I heard it first we used to watch the country music videos channel every day before school, and it was the first time I'd ever seen a black man singing country music and I cannot tell you how cool I thought he was.

I don't listen to much modern country music [does "Call Me By Your Name" count??]. After the early 2000s super-patriot-party-womanizer flavor of country took over, a lot of what I listen to instead is what's currently called "Folk", "Folk Rock" and "New Age Rock". Kinda captures what that sound and atmosphere of music used to be like before it got pop-ified. The Crane Wives, The Wailin' Jennies, Lord Huron, Colter Wall, and Barns Courtney are the closest I get to "Country music" these days.

If social justice is a thing you admire I Highly Highly recommend The Chicks. They pioneered the idea of disassociating country music from its southern pride/racist roots [and demonstrated it by dropping their very popular brand name, The Dixie Chicks]. They also pushed back against the uber-patriotism movement in the country music genre after 9/11, for which they were dropped from many, many venues and brand deals. They basically disappeared from the media overnight, because they took a stand against what they deemed to be an unjust upcoming war, and continue to work for social justice currently [you might've heard their song March March making rounds during the 2020 BLM movement. If you haven't, go listen to it, it's a bop.]

I hope you have fun exploring the genre! There's so much nostalgia for me there, and while there's definitely some controversy in it, there's also so many good people working to turn the genre back to something admirable again [imo]. :3

[braveblackbutterfly]

Today’s redraw is Lumity from "Covention"

I'm nearly done with my job, or at least done for this school year. So I have more time to create!

I found this screenshot earlier this month and it made me think back to my very first lumity redraw I did on another screenshot from this scene, which is still on my blog on the "leeann art" tag if you want to see it.

I thought it would be better to make a redraw from a new screenshot instead of making a redraw of a redraw (sounds confusing right?)

I had a love/hate relationship with this redraw as I was drawing it. But overall, I like it. It's not my best work, but it's an improvement from my first redraw.

Some time or another I will color my recent redraws.

If you liked this redraw, then please like and/or reblog my post! You can check out my other (better and worse) drawings at my “leeann art” tag or search through the owl house tags.

If you have Instagram, please follow my art/redraw account: leeannredraws

Also if you want to read my very first fanfic, "For You I Will," please check it out on AO3!

And if you want to check out my other writing projects, please check out the “leeann art” tag!

[meandmypagancrew]

A few weeks ago, maybe even months now, I went to the mall with my brother and in a weird little store that just sells the weirdest collection of inventory (it’s your one stop shop for all of the seasons of Fraser on DVD, a plushie of your favorite k-pop idol, Naruto themed Yahtzee, and a CD of Leeanne Womack’s I Hope You Dance!) we found this book, and I… wanted it. I wanted it. I wanted it very badly. I wanted it so badly that after we left the store, I started crying.

I had the money, but my mental health was also at an all time low and I felt guilty. Yes, L is one of my top ten favorite characters. Yes, I would love to read more about him and also Naomi and know at least when I read the last page, they’ll be okay for now. But who was I to want something so beautiful? What possibly made me think that I deserved it, with its beautiful black but silver embossed cover and it’s book ribbon and just high quality, beautiful book, even though I would unquestionably love it?

I went back to the store a few days later with my mom and wanted to show it to her, secretly hoping she would give me permission to buy it, but it was gone. I tried to be mature and put on a brave face and say that was okay because surely, whoever it belonged to would love it. You don’t buy a book like this without already loving the Death Note universe.

Now, my brother was a little late ordering my birthday (late August) gifts and also accidentally sent one to the last address Redbubble had used, which was one of his friends in another state and ever since has been waiting for the friend to send it to us. He has told me, however, that it’s a bag and there is also going to be something in the bag. They haven’t yet so Chet gave up on his plan of that and just told me to check my bookshelf, and sure enough, between I Am A Cat and You Feel It Just Below Your Ribs…

[mostthingskenobi]

WIN A JAMES ARNOLD TAYLOR AUTOGRAPH!

This contest is open to all our Patreon members, so, if you'd like a chance to enter, please consider joining our MTK Patreon. Here's a link: https://www.patreon.com/MostThingsKenobi

A few months ago, we had the good fortune of interviewing ​⁠James Arnold Taylor , voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi on the Clone Wars. Shortly after that interview, Lauren got to meet James at the Indianapolis Comic Con where he signed 10 autographs specifically for our beloved patrons. I want to note that James offered to do this out of the kindness of his heart--we did not ask him to do this. He's such a nice person! If you ever get the opportunity to meet him at a con, I highly recommend taking the chance. (Then you can even thank him in person for being on MTK 😂)

So, here's how the contest works. JAT offered to record a new intro to throw in the mix for our podcast openers (i.e. "It's Most Things Kenobi! This is the podcast you're looking for.").

HOW TO ENTER:

1. Join our Patreon. We have tiers starting as low as $3/month.

2. Submit your idea for a new opener in the comments section of the post for this contest. One entry per person, please.

That's it. Super easy 🙌

The contest is open to our Patrons world wide.

Contest closes Tuesday, August 22 at 11:59PM PST

Good luck!!

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Love,

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