#I think if I did Neat Digital Art Lines that you can color in with the fill bucket tool it would be different but

[lucalicatteart]

A character reference sheet sort of thing for the main character of the Poll Adventures, drawn more in my usual style (taking a picture of messy pencil sketches then coloring it digitally lol) rather than the cutesy ms paint style of the daily poll images .. there he is.. the adventure boy..

[nikoisme]

Heyo!!! :D Some questions for you!

What are some of your fave parts of the Iliad and Odyssey? And then do you have a favorite by Euripides?

How long have you been drawing?

Since your "lovable little bastard" is a lil calico, does she have any neat patches/spots that are cute? Example, Teddy has a big stripe that curves across her neck, so I like imagining her having "necklace" haha. Does your lil lady have any spots that are cutely shaped? 🥺

(Good luck in school! :D Know I'm rooting for you!)

hello hello :DD this is a much needed break from studying oh god thank you.

For The Iliad,, BOOK 6, THE HECTOR, ANDROMACHE AND ASTYANAX SCENE. Book 10 also slaps obviously, night raid my beloved. The laments over Hector in book 24 too :')) It never fails to make me cry. But there's a tiny little specific part of The Iliad that is my absolute favorite - when Menelaus tells Antilochus that Patroclus was killed:

Idk man it feels so real and raw and hngngng. And Antilochus my man.

Now for The Odyssey i'm basic af but it's the reunion wih Telemachus, Penelope and Laertes :') hits right in the feels. The marriage bed story. The orchard. God fuck. Also the several little moments when Telemachus and Odysseus just,, exchange knowing smiles or glances with each other (when Odysseus is disguised as a beggar). It's just so neat i don't know why. Telemachus doesn't even know Odysseus and Odysseus doesn't know who his son is (yet!!), but they just kind of clicked together (when it came to scheming and plotting ofc. It's in their genes).

Tbh I haven't read too much of Euripides, I have quite a few plays sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read. So i should probably, yknow, do that hahaa. But my favorite so far is Iphigenia at Aulis! It's just so heartbreaking and tragic and painful and ahdbagshjj. mannn.

I started drawing since I could hold a colored pencil lmaoo. i just did it sometimes as a kid, i liked it and was seen as the "art kid" in school (now that I think of it, I was actually more the "a pleasure to have in class" kid,, but hey i was the one people ran to during art projects lmaoo). It was 2020 when I really wanted to get into it - especially digital art, since I've been drawing on my phone and the family computer with a mouse in godforsaken Gimp up to that point - and I got my first drawing tablet the same year! Funnily enough I started drawing humans about... 1,5 years ago?? I was actually, lo and behold, a warrior cats artist for a few years :'DD

NOW. SHE HAS SO MANY SPOTS THAT I ABSOLUTELY ADORE. For example, all her paws are white - but only one is black with a single white toe:

And she has some incredible markings on her face if i can say so myself:

Especially since the orange marking goes in a straight line across her face, it's so neat. And her fluffy white neck/throat marking :D

And thank you for school AGJSJSDHHH. I have my last test on Monday so I should be finally free next week! The worst tests are over now, thankfully. This is hell :')

[raidante]

Do you have a map of your smt thingy? I’d love to see the variety in a Tokyo that’s not had anyone to run the floodgate system or maintain the subway lines

I definitely need to draw one.... but you are correct I plan to have some areas submerged and create tiny islands, and I really like the idea of the Faerie forest being inside a huge underground metro thats covered in vines n flora that the fae grew so it's like a Lost Woods maze and you gotta follow motifs to find ur way through it. As well as new buildings being made from old ones... like the Tokyo Diet building was brought to shambles, but the Covenent of God salvages it and turns it into their Church, with the surrounding area used as a refugee camp for those who aren't in the order, but are protected by the order in exchange for labor. Sitting on the ruins of a skyscraper toppled over as you talk with another character about the hopes and futures of living a life in a world like this.... while the Ring of Gaea probably inhabit Ginza's underground, using subways as makeshift dorms and old stores for supplies. They also have their own Church with their Founder inside...meditating as its put, but no one's had an in person audience with him in a long time.

Most of the older generation who survived the War are almost dead, probably from radiation poisoning or old age not being fit for survival. A lot of Tokyo's population actually is made of a new generation of people born after the bombs, who don't remember the old world, and only were raised on the principles of the new one-- a very god fearing, technophobic society. Most of them don't even know how to use old world technology, because after the War, it became sort of a taboo among people since it was technology, as people say, what was used to create killing machines and let demons into their world to begin with. Of course, the reality is people caused it, they just used technology, and it's no different from using any other tool to do your bidding. Most of the subways are shut down and don't work because of it, but if you do a little fiddling, you can probably get one or two to work as shortcuts in between areas. Some tunnels have also become lakes of contaminated water, or demon nests, because there's huge chunks of Tokyo that humans have to avoid for their own survival and demons occupy, but also, there's places even demons avoid...like the places where those supersoldier freak units prowl. They're kinda like Nemesis from RE where you can't really kill them, you just kinda have to avoid them, until you eventually might be able to, but at that point...would you even want/need to? Depends on how you feel by then depending on your experience and exposure to the different walks of life and different ideologies of the people you've talked to.

here's a map from digital devil story 2 + a cutscene from the sega CD version of SMT1 that kinda give me the vibes of my world. I definitely want more of those cool colors of the blues impacted by a very red to purple sky, though, rather than just a warm desert blast like Nocturne did.

Notice how large segments of Tokyo have been flooded and turned into mini islands... I think its super neat!

And this is the sega CD edition cutscene, I really like the depiction of the Flooding and the cool dark colors... I think this is kinda how I want my world to look.

This concept from the SMTIV art book is one of my absolute favorite pieces. It's supposed to be the tower that connects Naraku to Tokyo, and they were exploring how it would look with the construction sights as it went from the clay and bedrock into the more modern look. To me it looks like theyre walking down an overturned skyscraper, and I fucking love it. Imagine tunnels being created from skyscrapers falling sideways you can travel through above ground...

This cover from Imagine actually really conveys how I think I want my world to look. I definitly will draw mockup maps and locations/enviroments for sure!

[lizstoryboards]

Recreating Lane's Character Sheet

Enjoy this little before and after of one of my characters, Lane! I am hoping to do some new boards with them once I round out the story and world building. Of course, got to build up that portfolio!

Original Design

Introducing the original Lane! While I was very set on a color palette, you can clearly see the level of details is quite frankly INSANE for a 2D animator to handle. As a general rule, stripes, fabric wrinkles, and details should be kept to a minimum when thinking in terms of 2D. At the time I made this, I wasn't sure what I would use it for, and was a bit in a rush to pitch my concept to my class. Clearly though, Lane needed a full re-design to work for 2D.

Ideation and Doodles

A lot of my concepts for the new Lane came from lazy doodles in my sketchbook and on my tablet. It's also where I got the idea for the art style of the series, comprised of curves that don't fear some pointy edges. (feat. Zwi the horse to the right, she may visit Tumbler next)

In one of my digital sketches, a little mistake happened where I left a little line under Lane's eye... Which instantly thought looked pretty neat! I did try to experiment a little with multiple lines or different positions, but a single line from the middle of the eye was what felt best.

Final Designs

Some small tweaks to the shape of the wraps and original colors and that bad boy is 2D friendly and raring to go! I'm pleased with how fun Lane is to draw now, and how quickly I can get sketches of them done! I hope to do some board work with them soon!

[sabertoothwalrus]

'Scusie, I have a question about digital art. How do you do your coloring? If you have a previous post or resource you talked about already then that'd be appreciated. But if not; I've just started getting back into digital art and can't remember how people did their fancy selection methods to color in their lineart. I managed somewhat myself but what would be a simple sketch irl took like an hour or two of trying to work the tablet/program. I want to enjoy it again and use it to start commissions in the future, and I don't want to be easily burned out because of the complexity. For reference, I'm using Krita.

ok I wasn't really sure how to explain it so I made a timelapse? let's see if this helps

so first of all, I'm predominantly using CSP nowadays (which I love and highly recommend), which has this nifty little feature in the bucket tool:

it can close gaps!! Now, I tend to draw pretty loose and my lines have a lot of gaps between them that are too big to close automatically, so I'll manually close them on my color layer with whichever color I'm using. I find this method works best when my pen and bucket tool have anti-aliasing turned off. I think other programs like Medibang and even Aggie.io have some sort of "smart" bucket tool, so I wouldn't be surprised if krita has something similar too.

the second method is simply Not Giving A Fuck and coloring sloppily without caring if the colors stay in the lines. I do this more for stupider comics where looking pretty doesn't matter so much

the third method is the same as the first but using a nice, textured brush so it looks Intentional and Pretty

I also tend to throw gradient maps on everything because they're so fun :)

the fourth method (which I did not demonstrate) is the good ol' polygonal lasso tool. I mostly used it when I used Photoshop. It's a really good and fast way to get all your colors blocked in without requiring so much precision, but it can still be a little tedious.

Bear in mind, I am not the kind of person that has each color on its own layer. A basic drawing like this one is lines, colors, and bg, with maybe a gradient map or adjustment layer. There are tons more ways than this to color (look into CSP's reference layers! pretty neat stuff), but these are just the ways that I like to use because I am very very lazy and am only willing to put in the absolute bare minimum effort

[yinses]

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

[blue-bird-kny]

How You Spend Days Off

I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda

P.S: Be safe out after dark!

Warning: N/A

( 2.1K+ words)

   ↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}

Yuji:

Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.

Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can

It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.                               

“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.

You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.

“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji  groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.

Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.

Megumi:

Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).

On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.

Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had  nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.

You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.

“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.

His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.

Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’

Nobara

Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.

She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.  

You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)

The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.

“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”

She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.

“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.

You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”

Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.

“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”

Masterlist 

[beanieman]

Shinalice Tattoo And Flowershop AU: Shin Gets A Tattoo

(Their designs in this are from by the wonderful art @yttdie made that inspired me to write this fic. You should go check their art out, it’s so good!) 

Shin lingers outside the door to the tattoo parlor, clutching a bouquet to his chest. He's really going to do it. He's going to get his first tattoo. He's not sure if he's shaking from excitement or nerves as he enters the small parlor. It's the first one Shin's ever been inside. It's not at all the shady place movies depict them as. Abstract art lines, black walls, and Alice's colorful flowers are placed in a vase on the front desk. Next to the vase is a small bell with a sticky note reading "Ring Me!" attached. Shin takes notice that Alice's handwriting is surprisingly neat as he rings the bell.

"Coming!!!"

Alice pops his head out from a small room in the back, giving a wave and genuine grin when they lock eyes. It makes a heat rush to his face that Shin wasn't expecting. Today was an awful day to use a headband to push the hair away from his face. Now all his crimson blushes are on display for all to see. But Alice doesn't seem to notice as his eyes glint with recognition.

"Shin! Did you finally come to take me up on your offer? I remember it vividly! You gifted me flowers for free, and I'll repay my debt by giving you a discount on a tattoo!"

"So you remembered...I want to cash in on our deal. I brought more flowers for your shop. I was thinking they'd be a good reference for my tattoo."

He hands over the bright blue bouquet he was carrying while avoiding eye contact. Handing off flowers may be his job, but most of his clients aren't handsome tattoo artists.

He notices how tenderly Alice takes them like they could be made of glass. For a man who looks so intimidating, he's much more gentle than he looks.

"What are these called?"

"Forget me not's. Ahaha, I was thinking getting a cluster on the back of my hand would look cool..."

"We'll match in that case!"

Alice holds his hand out, showing again the daffodil-covered skull on the back of his hand. It was a big inspiration for him. He loved the way the tattoo looked under the cool blue lights of the flower shop. But for Alice to point it out so bluntly like that....it makes him a little flustered. It doesn't help when Alice puts his hand on his back to guide him over to a chair in the corner.

For a second, he gets so caught up in the euphoria of having an attractive man caress him that he forgets he's about to get a needle shoved into his skin.

But then Alice brings out the ink.

And reality hits.

This is going to be painful.

Looking around, he tries to find anything to distract him as the needle begins to buzz. His eyes land on Alice's muscular arms covered in tattoos. He has a sleeve with multiple sections. At the very top is ink with a deer's head laying on top of a flower bed. In the middle of his arm are chains surrounded by a wall of blue. And at the very bottom, a lone X that looks like it marks a treasure on a map. If nothing else, it's the perfect conversation starter.

"Do your tattoos have meaning?"

The needle is already touching his skin before Alice can respond. Bright colors explode under the tip as the flower begins to form. It's painful, but he tries to focus on Alice, whose eyes are narrowed steadily in unbreakable concentration.

"A few! The chains you see are to recall my time in a band of legends!! As a symbol of the end, I had the letter X tattooed when I departed from that very same band."

"And the deer?"

"They're majestic! Not every tattoo has to have meaning."

Alice's hand works with a speed Shin has never seen. He's grateful for it. His only goal going into this was to not pass out by the end. Which seems more reachable with how fast Alice works.

"What about your tattoo? Do these forget me not's have a meaning to you?"

"N-Not really. I just like flowers."

He gesture's to the tiny daisies plastered around his pale blue shirt as proof, but his words aren't entirely true. Forget me nots symbolize true love and respect. They're a promise that you'll never forget the receiver because of how deep your affection runs. The idea of someone caring that much for him one day... it's a nice thought. But to admit all that to an acquaintance? Not happening.

They banter back and forth for another hour. What he learns about Alice is he can make a conversation out of anything. Even seeing birds soaring out the window gets them on the topic of air travel. His charisma is admirable, but not more than his tattoo skills.

His pen flows quickly and steadily, producing thin lines that pop under the blue coloring. His bedside manner isn't bad either. Even with such an intense pain that pierces his hand, Alice keeps him distracted, making it easier to ignore. He makes it so easy to ignore, in fact, that when Alice proudly proclaims

"It's done!"

Shin can hardly believe his ears. He looks down at the ink that's now stained into his skin. He didn't get his hopes up for the final product, but...he loves it. It's everything he wanted it to be and more. Alice looks satisfied with the final product as well. He beams with pride at Shin's look of awe. He must see that look ten times a day, and yet he still looks thrilled at Shin's joy.

"Are you impressed, Shin? It's some of my finest work! Be proud to be adorned with my talent, mwahaha."

"Heh...looks really good, Alice. The flowers were a good trade….so about paying."

Alice looks down to Shin's newly tattooed hand and back to his face. He glances away and shrugs his shoulders casually.

"Consider it repayment for the flowers. You don't have to pay anything at all! Just leave a good review on our establishment page, please, and thank you."

"Eh?! Well, if you say so...Are you expecting more flowers to make up for the price?"

"W-Well, no, not at all. But perhaps we could get a coffee sometime? To make up for the difference. If you don't want to, don't worry yourself-"

For the second time today, he can't believe his ears. It almost sounds like...Alice is asking him out on a date. Surely he means as friends. Yea, that's all it is. Their places of business are side by side. Why wouldn't they want to get to know each other more? Not that he's opposed to treating it as a date...but no need to make assumptions.

"Uh, yeah-that sounds good! Ahaha, really good! Er...I should get your number…."

They exchange numbers with shaky hands. Both of them trying to look cool as they put the digits into their phone. Shin can feel how crimson his face is. He needs to get out of here before he does something stupid, "I need to get back to my shop. Flowers won't sell themselves. I'll text you later."

"Good luck on your ventures! I'll be searching for the best possible spot to find coffee in the meantime."

Shin turns to wave goodbye, only for the door to stop him as he runs face-first into the glass. A thumping sound echoes through the small shop as he stumbles back.

"Are you okay??"

"Yes!!"

He doesn't look back to see Alice's confused face as he darts to from the shop and back to his own. He's in such a hurry; he doesn't even see a woman dressed in black enter the parlor behind him.

But she distracts Alice's attention from his blunder, as she's a face he knows well.

"The hell? Was that the flower shop guy you wouldn't shut up about?" Alice feels heat rushing to his face at the call out. Okay, he might have a crush on the cute flower man next door. Sue him.

"Yes! Yes, it was."

[irisadielsart]

As anyone can attest, 2020 has been a rough year. A punctuated rough year in a string of rough years. My experience has been no different, but as for my personal artistic growth, 2020 has actually been exceptionally good to me. I went from thinking that doing a picture a month was asking way too much, to doing basically a drawing everyday. It’s a bit funny, I’ve been on tumblr since 2012, and i’ve posted some art here and there, but this year is when people finally noticed. I’ve had a couple of people say to me “I didn’t know you did art.” I don’t know how I feel about that, but I’m happy that my art is finally getting notes at least.

January - This is when i’m still in my dark phase. Drawing hurts, but I’m still trying my best to put something, ANYTHING on paper. i’ve spent 2019 drawing lines and squares on paper to just get used to drawing again. I’m trying to do people again. I had an idea that i was going to do a drawing a month for birth month flowers. January was carnation, and i had a sketch for February, but it never made it to completion. I’m still using traditional markers, pen and pencil.

February - This is where I found out that using a reference for art made things %100 percent easier. This is my very old OC Zora, made when i was in middle school. Using references cut out a lot of the initiation process i had when starting a drawing, all I had to do was trace, i didn’t have to think at all and the product was still good. Honestly pretty revelatory.

March - this is when i bought some really neat artists models that i could pose in any number of ways. They have proved their worth over and over again. Still doing traditional, but i did enhance this picture on the computer. 

April - My markers were running really dry and I couldn’t afford to buy a new set, so I dragged out my laptop and drawing tablet to see if i could start drawing digitally. I was never really good at drawing digitally, though I got a little better in my animation classes. Colors aren’t true on the monitor and doing lineart feels odd and hollow. i can’t put it into words. but I downloaded Krita because i also couldn’t afford Photoshop. so on top of learning digital art again, i was learning a whole new program. So this picture was a culmination of a lot of things, and a really good first step for the rest of the year.    

May - Here, this is when quarantine was in full swing, but drawing is no longer painful and i’m actually looking forward to it. Still learning digital again, so I decided to go with my tried and true love of fashion and clothes because that’s what i know best. Backgrounds suck

June - This month i was doing a lot of sketches and little doodle drawings. i decided that i wanted to try something more realistic, just to see how it would turn out. i think it is a bit of a mixed success.

July- July was busy, so i didn’t do a whole lot. This drawing was based off the designs of another artist that i loved a lot. I’m really big into character design, and I go crazy over a really good design.

August - My busiest month! I did so much in August! i wanted to take a break from all the Zelda art I was doing and decided to try doing an Alucard. Yoshitaka Amano is a big inspiration for me, and the way they do Alucard absolutely melts me. Someday i’ll draw Alucard as pretty as Amano does. 

September - I dragged another OC out of the grave and thought to myself “How can i improve on my art?”. It’s amazing that in January i didn’t know if i would still be drawing, but here I am trying to not only draw as much as i can, but also trying to improve. I loved the way this picture came out, but the process that i used to color it took 3 days! I don’t have that kind of time to spend on my art, but maybe someday i’ll do that technique again.

October - This month was a bit of a low point for me. I was getting depressed again and was struggling to draw. I didn’t do a whole lot. But i didn’t want to go back to the way things were at the start of the year, so i just took a break for myself and reminded myself that low points were going to happen, but it didn’t mean that my progress was erased. i went back to trying a more realistic approach because with LOTR characters, i can use actual human models which is great for getting the subtleties of shading.

November - Busy month that i didn’t have a lot of time to draw for. but i did a series that I am very fond of, the picture shown being my favorite of the series.

December - the end of the year! and i’m still drawing. I’m drawing so much! December isn’t over yet, and I’ll have more drawings to show later, but i can’t show them here yet because a lot of them are presents. so, this picture is the one that everyone liked the best, or at least it got the most notes. instead of using my usual ultra saturated color, i went with greys and sad colors. but people liked it a lot, and i don’t know how to feel about that. 

[fuchsiasea]

creator tag game

RULES: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work.

thanks for the tag @stardustony

1. only the brave collage: this has to be my favorite. the creativity that goes into making a collage is just completely different from any other kind of graphic edit i’ve made. i initially made this one for my digital collage workshop and i think it’s neat. my favorite things about it: the newspaper coat, the grey/red color palette, the word ‘brave’ covering louis’ eyes, the artwork in front of him, basically everything.

2. lyab gifset: i made this one for the wonderful work of art that @rosesau wrote. i spent way too much time looking for the perfect videos for it, visuals that reflected what i saw in my mind when reading lyab. at the end i think i nailed it and my favorite thing about this gifset is the coloring.

3. 1D as astronomical entities: i made like four different edits for 1D’s anniversary, but this is the one that i enjoyed the most while making it. i have to thank my friends from the elote gc because the concept was born when talking to them. i loved looking for each astronomical entity so it matched the personality of each boy. and the cherry on top? @rosesau wrote a poem inspired by my edit, which is so flattering, once again proving that we’re a great team.

4. golden gifset: this was me trying to get out of my usual boring gifs for music videos. i did this effect in which you leave one static frame, while the others play like they usually do and added an effect to it and some lyrics. i fell in love with the result and while it’s not one of my popular creations, it’s definitely one of my favorites. also the last gif set i made in this account so it’s special.

5. fine line aesthetic: i wasn’t sure about putting this one in my top 5, but i really like it and i loved the process of coming with a visual for each song on fine line. at the end i like it so much because it shows how this album is totally visual and how harry’s lyrics make it possible for the listener to create an image in their brain while listening to them. 

i tag: @tattooedlovers @halosboat @tomlinsun @cuddlerlouis

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 20 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 20 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Barad said lightly, “So long as they aren’t chasing us, we’ve little to fear.  Come, My Heart, we have to get your Arrakan certificates recognized.  You have an examination before the Board.”  They left in the direction of the Council Pavilion.

Kurin squinted as she looked at the ships and commented, “They are good seamen aren’t they?  It’s hard to stop a ship that big, right at the float.  Now that they’re closer, I can read their names.  The Big one is the Dark Dragon.  There’s two lines of some vertical decorations too.  I wonder why they aren’t afraid of bad luck from naming their ship after Dark Iren?  The other is the Soaring Bird. The Soaring Bird’s letters look really strange.  There are other letters above the name that I can’t read at all.”

Master Juris told Kurin, “That’s because they’re in a different language, Kurin.  It’s Barant I think.  I can’t read it either but I’ve seen it before.”

He turned, gesturing broadly about, and asked Kurin, “Is it just me, or is the market bigger than usual this Gathering?”

“It is,” said Kurin with a pinched face.  “The Grandalor and three other ships have opened toy booths in addition to their usual ones now that they see how well I’ve done for the last five Gatherings. The Gula has the colored cloth booth in addition to their usual fabrics booth.  The strangers each got a booth.  We took up three spaces just for cargo and lace, and have a food booth on top of that.”

“True, all true,” said Master Juris, as they strolled back to her booth. “I got around to the other toy booths to take a look.”  He smiled with a trace of a sneer for the competition.  “Your deal with the Masters of the Craft Council is safe.  The Grandalor is your nearest rival and they aren’t close, though they are cheaper.”

“Speaking of the Grandalor,” said Kurin curiously, what’s up with them?  I almost didn’t recognize them.  Their ship is so neat and tidy that it almost looks new.”

“I don’t know, Kurin.  Their booth people are all smiling and friendly, too.”  Master Juris stroked his chin and looked off absently at the newcomers.  “Even their roustabouts have been polite and well dressed.”  He walked off shaking his head at changes that he had never thought to see.

As Kurin was entering her booth she overheard a pair of Grandalor sailors speaking through the orderly chaos of the busy Market.

“Looka’ there!  A nice knife on the deck!  Mine!”

“You know where it fell from, too.  Give it back to him.”

“Sorry, old habit.  You’re right.  The Lady wouldn’t like it iffin I kept it.  She’d be disappointed.  Don’t want that. — — Here, Sir! This fell offa yer table!  Nice scrimshaw on the blade!”

Kurin settled herself on a stool behind her counter, wondering at the bizarre concept of Grandalor sailors being honest.  She picked up an illustrated envelope and removed a batch of pieces.  To draw trade, she began assembling one of her kits.  The day passed into afternoon.

“T’at’s good t’ see.  A young ane, nae afraid t’ be seen wit’ toys.  So often, t’ey’re afraid t’ey’ll be taken for kinder if t’ey’re seen wit’ toys.”

Kurin looked up at the speaker, smiling automatically.  Her smile hardened as she recognized the two sailors flanking the woman.  They were Grandalor deck-hands that she knew from other Gatherings and did not trust now, in spite of their better dress.

The woman who spoke was short, with a cascade of glossy medium brown hair falling from a complex braided knot at the back of her head.  Honest gray eyes stared frankly at her.  Her face was exotically shaped, almost coming to a point at her chin, mouth smiling widely under a nose that was almost dangerously cute.  

What she wore was as exotic as her speech.  Definitely not sailor’s garb.  At first glance, her blouse seemed a simple strip of satin cloth, white with moving amber highlights, thrown about her neck, crossed in front and fastened behind.  A second glance showed that the garment was carefully tailored to an exact fit and that there was nothing casual about it.  There were sleeves of sheer amber gauze tied to it at the shoulders.  Her solidly muscled midriff was bare. The lady wore pants that were long and loose, matching her top in color and gathered at the ankles.  Her shoes were of sparkling fine scaled black Lesser Dragon hide.

A fringed black sash belt held several pouches and a long knife that was either Lesser Dragon or Wing Ray fang.  The edge was chipped slightly from much use but carefully sharpened.

The tool maker in Kurin admired the care with which the sharpening had been done.  Each chip had been rounded out and properly edged to reduce the possibility of a crack starting.  This knife, large as it was, was a carefully maintained tool.

Kurin’s smile became genuine as she thought that she recognized the speaker. “Kurti, is that you?  What are you doing in that get up?  What’s with the accent?”

The woman appeared to curl up into a mental ball, the life flowing out of her.

“Oi wish Oi wa’.  She’s dead.  M’ cousin Oi’m told.  M’ name’s Tanlin.  Tanlin Miken Princamorn.  Oi’m tired, might Oi sit in yer shade?”  Both sailors looked alarmed at this pronouncement and took her arms to support her, clearly not to remove her.  It was obvious who was in charge.

One of them said, “Lady Tanlin, When Doctor Corin allowed you to come to Gathering he warned us that you are still on the invalid list. You must not tire yourself.”

“Of course you may sit, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin, picking up on the title and producing a cushion usually reserved for important customers.  “Tell me how come you look so much like Kurti.  You said she’s dead?  How did it happen?  Where are you from?”

“T’ank ye,” she said to Kurin as the sailors helped her gently to the cushion.  “Oi’m Arrakan.  Late o’ t’e Princamorn.  Kurti an’ Oi were cousins.  Our mot’ers were identical twins, so Oi’m told. ‘Ers married on t’ t’e Grandalor, mine t’ Princamorn as t’ey tell m’.

“Oi heard t’at she got t’e lung parasites from swallowin’ reef woter durin’ t’e rescue o’ our crew.  She wa’ often in t’e sickbay but Oi’m informed t’e treatment dinnae work.

“Over four an’ a ‘alf Wotans Oi wander Iren’s ‘alls.  ‘E let m’ go an’ took ‘er instead.  Oi ‘ad per’aps twa ‘ours t’ see ‘er as she failed.”

“Why do you keep saying, I’m told and such?” asked Kurin rather tactlessly.

Tanlin nearly wailed, “‘Cause Oi cannae remember!  T’ey say Oi wa’ ‘it be a falling yard wen t’e Princamorn went down.  Oi donae remember ‘t!  Oi’ve nae ‘istory t’ go wit’ t’e name an’ it only by repute!”

Kurin was at a loss for what to do.  She had heard of amnesia from head blows, everyone had.  She had never heard of any effective treatment. Still a niggling suspicion ate at the back of her mind.

She held out a tallow-slate and said, “Do you write?”

“O’ course Oi write an’ navigate, too.  Oi wa’ t’e Forst Officer, Second Wotch, an’ Share Holder on t’e Princamorn.  Oi lost m’ memory, nae m’ mind,” Tanlin retorted tartly.

“I meant no insult, Lady Tanlin,” said Kurin mollifyingly.  “I’ve heard that Arrakans write differently than we do in the Naral fleet. Could I see?”

Brightening like sun from behind a cloud, Tanlin said, “Certainly.”   She took the proffered tallow-slate in her right hand and wrote quickly and surely with her left.  From the right edge.  She signed with a flourish.  Thank you, Mother, for making me learn this.  It was to help in the Arrakan trade.  Now it is my shield.

Kurin looked at the neat cursive writing in perplexity.  The characters were like none that she had seen before.  Her confusion showed on her face, for Tanlin laughed gently, chidingly.

“Tis ye t’at write differently.  Arrakans ‘ave been writing such for a t’ousand Gat’erins.  ‘T says:

‘Ush little ane, dinnae ye cry.

Nest in t’e ‘ammock’s web, safe from ‘arm,

‘Ear Iren’s Orcas sing far from ye.

‘Appy dreams air yer good charm.’

“Kurti sung ‘t t’ calm m’ as she lay dyin’.  M’ name is at t’e end.”

Kurin, who knew that Kurti had been right handed, was convinced.  Besides, Tanlin’s knife was placed for a fast left handed draw.

“She was wrong about the Orca though,” said one of the two sailors.  “I was port forward lookout, second night watch.  From seventh drum, an Orca paced the Grandalor, singing.  I stayed past my watch to see and hear as it rolled and leaped, playing.  A few minutes after second drum of third watch, it sounded and was not seen again.  That was from when the Lady,” he pointed to Tanlin, “woke up, until Kurti died.”

“Is that true about the Orca?” Kurin asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Oi donae know.  W’at’s an Orca sound like?  Oi’ve never heard ane t’at Oi know o’.  T’ere wa’ an uncanny sound t’at stopped wen she died,” said Tanlin looking curiously at Kurin.

Kurin, who was a good mimic, let out a long, plaintive, rippling call, close to a whistle.

“T’at’s t’e very sound!  Oi ‘eard ‘t t’rough t’e ‘ull as Kurti wa’ dying!”

“There you are, Love.  I hope that whale wasn’t singing for you!  What are you doing?” inquired a light baritone voice.  Looking up, Kurin saw Captain Barad standing close.  She had seen him many times before but never like this.  He was calm and well dressed instead of irritable and slovenly.  Even more puzzling, he was smiling fondly at Tanlin.

“Look at t’is, m’ Luve.  T’is young ane is selling toys, too!” Tanlin impulsively held out one of Kurin’s Wing Rays for Barad’s inspection.  Thoughtfully she added, “Oi t’ink t’at ‘ers are better made t’an ours are.”

Barad attentively looked the toy over before carefully replacing it in its proper place on the board.  He smiled tolerantly and gently at Tanlin and said, “You are right Tanlin, my heart.  And well they should be.  The Craft Masters Council just broke for the afternoon.  They have made a decision about you, Kurin.  You should hear it from Master Juris, soon.”

Master Juris came striding eagerly up until he saw Barad.  His approach became wary.  Diverted from his original aim, he addressed Barad truculently, “Captain Barad.  What are you and your bullies doing at a Longin booth?”

Once again Barad smiled as though politely asked a reasonable question, “Three things.  First, I came to see for myself the toys that I have heard so much about for so long.  Second, I wanted to be here to see Kurin when you tell her your news.  Third, I was looking for my wife, who has the escort of two of my deck-hands at doctor’s orders. She is not yet fully recovered from serious injuries.”  Seeing the effect of his ‘third’, Barad burst out in genuine laughter.

“To you both, may I present my wife, the Lady Tanlin Miken Princamorn, lately First Officer of the Second Watch on the Arrakan vessel Princamorn?  She holds full Command and  Navigational Certificates from the Arrakan fleet.  Just today they were recognized by examination before the Naral fleet Board.”

Kurin and Master Juris were stunned.  “Your wife!”

Tanlin rose from her cushion and put an arm affectionately about Barad who put one around her.  “Aye, Oi’m ‘is wife an’ ‘appy t’ be!”  

Kurin’s curiosity was aroused by what both the deck-hands and Barad had said so she asked Barad, “Why do you call her Lady?  Is it some Arrakan custom?”

Tolerantly, Barad replied, “Not that I know of.  The crewfolk who were helping Doctor Corin with her recovery started calling her that on their own. The rest of us just followed the fish.  You’ve met her.  It seems to fit.”

Tanlin turned to Master Juris and added, “If Oi ‘ave ‘eard right, ye ‘ave somet’ing for t’is nice young lady ‘oo ‘as shared ‘er shade and m’ maundering.”

Coming back to the reason for his visit, Master Juris said, “True.  Kurin, Captain Mord is bringing the actual item.  I’ll let him do the honors.”

Captain Mord arrived with all the Longin’s officers and many of Kurin’s friends in his wake.  Bringing up the rear but not staying there, was the entire Craft Masters Council.  When all were gathered about, Captain Mord began.

“Kurin Behar Longin, on behalf of the Masters of the Naral fleet, I present to you this Certificate as Journeyman Boat-builder.  The Council debated your age, yet none could deny your skills.  Your abilities won over even the doubters in the end.

“Not only your submission piece but also every piece of your work that could be located was studied.  You are the youngest journeyman in the history of the Naral fleet in any Craft.”  He handed the excited Kurin a scroll that was thicker than the usual certificate.  When Kurin unrolled it she found a standard journeyman’s certificate but pasted to it was a long piece of paperfish parchment bearing the name of every ship in the fleet and under each ship, all of her Craft Masters.

“I — — — I’m at a loss.  I don’t know what to say.  Thank you!” said Kurin, her composure shaken.

“Oi do!” yelled Tanlin, “Congratulations!”  Turning to Barad and pointing, she said, “Luve, Oi’m ‘ungry.  Can we treat t’ese folk from t’at boot’ over t’ere?  T’e breeze from ‘t ‘as been makin’ m’ famished, ‘t smells so good.  ‘T can be our Announcement Feast as well!  T’en all will know Oi’ve t’e finest ‘usband an’ ‘e t’e finest wife!”

“For you, Tanlin, all three moons.”  Turning to Mord, Barad said, “There has been bad blood between us.  You have no reason to trust me, I own that.  I offer you this for a truce between us.  For Kurin’s celebration, let the Grandalor pay for all the food from your booth for the next hour.  We will not quibble the bill.  In return, Tanlin and I spend that hour in your booth with Kurin.  It shall be both her celebration and ours too.  Our marriage will be celebrated by Arrakan custom and law, with an Announcement Feast open to all.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[trickstump]

homeroom angel 

eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier rated e 5.5k 

thank you to @eddiekissbrak for beta’ing and cheerleading me through this journey. migz, you’re a real one. 

(read it HERE on AO3) 

Richie’s not looking for it.

Of course Richie’s not fucking looking for it, though; to look for it, he’d have to have had any idea that it existed, and the idea of Eddie doing anything like this was beyond unfathomable. It was a whole other level of this could never happen that even Richie fantasies couldn’t have predicted it- and he’d had some pretty wild ones.  

But. Here the fuck it was, skipping floors two through two hundred on the Wonkavtor and busting through the top of Richie’s head, staring back at him from the page of the magazine he’d picked up.  

Eddie. 

It’d been- there were so many fucking steps, really, to them even getting here in the first place. Richie had to have found this fucking magazine when he was in colleg- not this issue, god, not this issue; if Richie had picked up this fucking issue in college, he was sure his mind would’ve exploded. But, he had to pick up this magazine in the first place in college, furtive, snatching it off the rack at the drugstore and not bothering to pay because holy shit, he couldn’t stand the idea of looking the dude in the counter in the eye and paying for a porno magazine that shouted Boys! Boys! Boys!

So. He had to pick up this magazine, and then, in a drunken fit just after his first few paid shows, he had to buy a subscription to this magazine- fake name, correct address- meticulously updated every time he moved so that it could be delivered right to his door packaged in a discreet envelope, and occasionally shoved into the bottom of his suitcase while he was on the road, because he liked to have the company of Mr. January 2016 on cold nights in decent hotel rooms.

 And, then, he had to be subscribed at just the right time, because he’d really been about to cancel his subscription entirely when the throwback issue came out. It was getting fucking dangerous, having his porn hand delivered to him like some kind of creepy old man, when Eddie had just moved in after trekking out to LA as a part of his post-Derry, post-divorce midlife crisis. There’d been an incident last month when Eddie’s found mail with the fake name that had lead to Richie having to sneak back out to the mailbox in the dead of night to do some recon before Eddie’s neat little “return to sender; does not live at this address” got his jerk-off material for the month taken away. It was the modern era; he should just make the jump and start going digital, anyway. 

So. Petty theft, years of furtively waiting for his monthly fix of scantily clad men to arrive via the US Postal service, and someone somewhere’s visonary idea of “let’s just reuse some fucking old pictures this time; these dipshits’ll crank it to anything, I’m sure” culminated to this:  

Eddie.  

Not Eddie, now- obviously, not Eddie, now. That’d be fucking insane, and Richie would be losing more of his mind than he’d already lost. He’d just been flipping through the issue, admiring this and that, and- he’d almost skipped the pages on his first thumb-through, absentminded and half hard, free hand resting on his leg, when he saw the flash of a leg and flipped back.

And then, there was Eddie. 

Younger- a few decades younger, the little white Times New Roman in the corner told him; Eddie, November 1999. November, Eddie’s birth month- happy fucking birthday to him. He only caught it the second time he looked at the picture, flipping the page and then flipping back to make sure his mind wasn’t just projecting the image of a younger Eddie onto the pages. 

It wasn’t. 

It was Eddie- his Eddie, flushed a little pink in the way he got when he was flustered, doe-eyeing the camera. His mouth was just as pink as his cheeks and hanging open just a bit, and Richie spent so much time looking at his face, he almost forgot to look at the rest of him- all of the rest of him, most of all of the rest of him, because thank god, this was not where he was seeing Eddie’s dick for the first time. Narrow avoidance, though, only because of the artful drapery of the fugly pink fur- rug? blanket?- monstrosity they had barely draped over the area, which let Richie see everything except his dick. 

God. He couldn’t even fucking think about Eddie’s dick right now. Not that he let himself think about Eddie’s dick too much, anyway. He’d think about being in love with Eddie all day long, and maybe about the fucking phenomenal sex they could be having every so often, mostly when he was lonely on the road, because there was a weird line when it came to being in love with your childhood friend, and that line was drawn exactly on the other side of “jerking off thinking about him while he’s sharing an apartment with you.” 

Speaking of, Richie’s dick went from being passively interested in the goings on to standing at attention like a goddamn car lot flag pole the second he had enough brain cells to process what he was seeing. He was achingly hard, now, and at the same time frozen in place, free hand now gripping his leg so hard he was going to leave a bruise. He couldn’t do anything but stare, heart racing like he was running a marathon.  

It was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen, and he needed to stop seeing it. 

“Hey, Richie?” 

Eddie’s voice outside his door jumped him into action, and Richie dropped the magazine like it was burning him. “Uh- yeah?” His voice broke on ‘yeah’, and he really, really sounded like a kid whose mom was two seconds from walking in on him jerking it. 

Eddie, for his part, didn’t seem to pick up on it- or, more likely, he was just fucking polite enough not to call him out. “You coming out so we can go eat or what, dude?”  

Fuck. Richie had been so caught up in a past where Edward fucking Kaspbrak, world’s stuffiest man and love of his life, had posed for a gay porn magazine that he had forgotten about the present where said childhood sweetheart was expect him to get dinner. “Oh, for sure.” He’d managed to get control of his voice, because he was a goddamn professional. “Just give me a second, man, I’m not decent.” 

“You’ve never been decent in your life,” Eddie huffed. “But, fine. Be out in, like, five minutes or I’m gonna eat without you.”

Richie waited until he heard Eddie’s footsteps disappear to exhale, and then it was just him and- well, him and Eddie again, still staring up at him from the centerfold with a look that Richie had barely ever even dared to imagine he could pull off. 

Fuck. 

He gave himself a few moments to breathe, eyes squeezed shut least the air he was just getting back into his lungs be stolen again, and he flipped the magazine closed before he opened them again. This was- definitely crossing the line he’d drawn for himself, and he should probably just throw the whole thing out before he jumped over the line and directly into something dangerous. 

But.

But, he couldn’t bring himself to- for a lot of reasons, really, chief among them the fact that he knew having a missing issue in his back catalogue would drive him absolutely fucking insane, and totally, totally, not because he couldn’t imagine ever getting rid of the only proof he had of the divine fact that Eddie could have “fuck me” eyes. Totally. 

So, instead of the trash can, or the back of his closet in a box where the rest of the issues went, Richie played into the full fantasy of being in college again and shoved the magazine under his mattress, resolving to deal with this later. The rest of his five minutes was spent trying to will his dick to sit back down by any means necessary- mostly by thinking about Eddie’s mom, which was an irony that Richie was too wired to appreciate in the moment. 

Thank fucking god they weren’t going out or anything. Eddie had just picked up cooking in his quest for independence, and liked to show off whenever Richie was home, which Richie didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d survived the last several decades on his own on Hot Pockets and takeout whenever he was home, and room service or fast food when he wasn’t.  

Eddie cooked, and Richie did the dishes. It was disgustingly domestic, and thinking about the concept rather than the action actually made Richie happy to do it, instead of mildly irritated. Love was a hell of a drug. 

He couldn’t really focus on the food tonight, though, because every time he looked up across the table- because Eddie made them eat at the table, like what the fuck was that?- he was faced with Eddie, who hadn’t changed enough in twenty years for Richie to be able to not see flashes of his pink lips and flushed cheeks every time he saw him.

It was like being haunted by a sexy, sexy ghost. 

“And I- Jesus, dude, are you even listening to me?” Richie blinked when Eddie waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Richie; you look like an idiot, man. What’s up with you, is there something on my face?” 

“Uh,” Richie said, trying to say anything but ‘hey, you used to be, like. Hot, in college or whatever’, but obviously not reacting fast enough for Eddie’s tastes. 

“I already got the fucking mole checked, it isn’t cancer,” he said, and that was Richie’s Eddie, vision snapping back into focus. 

“I’m not staring at your fucking mole, dude,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “Also, aren’t they only like… cancerous if they have hair in them, or something?” 

“No,” Eddie said, and sucked in a breath, and that launched them into a conversation- well. A tirade from Eddie with color commentary from Richie, really, and that was more like their normal dinner conversations, enough that Richie could phase out his lust for past Eddie and focus on the warm fuzzies that having this Eddie in his life gave him.

 Dinner and dishes done and conversation still rolling, though they’d cycled past about twenty different topics now, they moved on to the post dinner ritual of turning on the TV and not-watching Wheel of Fortune in favor of not-cuddling on the same couch, even though there was definitely a perfectly fine recliner in the room. This was the kind of thing that made Richie think that maybe, just maybe he had a chance in hell in all this- but, fuck if he was going to make the first move, so he just sat there with his arm flung over the back of the couch, hand dangling just so it brushed Eddie’s shoulder, and pretended he gave a shit about whatever Pat Sajak was saying, and wasn’t just watching Eddie.  

Because Eddie was double his age at heart, Wheel of Fortune faded into Jeopardy, and when Jeopardy faded into whatever the fuck came after, right on cue, Eddie yawned. “I’m going to bed,” he said, and Richie nodded.

“I’ll probably turn in, too,” he said, and they both just sat there for a few seconds after Richie turned off the TV, something- something- lingering between them. This part, too, was part of the norm; there was something one of them wanted to say, needed to do, but Richie was too chicken shit to be the one to do it, and Eddie was- well, Richie wasn’t sure what Eddie was, scared, nervous, too freshly out of an intensely shitty relationship, but what it boiled down to was Eddie yawning in again, breaking the moment, and saying “g’night, Richie,” as he got up, and went to his room. 

Normally, Richie’d just sit there for a few moments and stew in the moment he let pass again, but tonight, he only had to sit there for a second before he remembered what he’d been trying to get out of his head since dinner. 

He felt like a burglar in his own home, tiptoeing back to his room and closing the door. He thought about keeping the light off, for a second, but flipped it on at the last second. If he was going to be crossing the fucking line like this, he may as well be able to fucking see it in its full glory.  

He settled onto the bed and pulled the magazine out from under his mattress in one smooth move, flipping it open to the page without having to search, like the universe knew exactly what kind of self destruction he was looking to do. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he looked down on the exhale, Eddie was staring back at him, legs splayed and back arched artfully, like he’d just been waiting for him this whole time. 

“Hey there,” Richie said to an empty fucking room, and too much brainpower had already switched to dick power for him to be embarrassed about it. It didn’t take too long for him to get fully hard again- because it was fucking Eddie, of course it didn’t, and Richie wasn’t in the business of teasing himself when it came to jerking off, so he inelegantly wriggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them to the bottom of the bed. 

It was a little awkward, balancing the magazine in one hand while he had the other on his dick, but Richie was a pro at it, at this point. Normally, though, he’d only look at the magazine for a bit  before he let it fall aside, letting his mind do the rest of the work. Tonight, he couldn’t make himself put it down, though, because putting it down would mean he wouldn’t see how fucking right Eddie looked, laying back on that stupid, ugly pink fur, arms draped above his head and legs spread wide.

“Fuck.” He didn’t say it very loud, but Richie felt like he could hear it echo through the empty room. This was going to be the shortest fucking jerk off session he’d had in maybe his entire life, but, that should really be expected, considering the circumstances, and- 

“Hey, Richie, do you think I should get this mole checked again, because I really-” 

The world stopped. 

Eddie- real Eddie, now Eddie- was standing in the doorway. Fuck, normally, he’d knock, but Richie guessed the mole thing was really fucking bothering him, because he’s just slammed it open and given Richie no time to react. They both froze, when they locked eyes, and Eddie realized what was going on, and his face skipped right past the pretty pink Richie’d just been looking at to bright fucking red. “Oh. You’re- busy.” 

“Yeah.” Richie’s hand had not moved from his dick, nor had he moved to put the magazine down, or cover himself up, or anything a normal fucking person would do. Instead, his gaze flicked from Eddie, down the magazine, and back. “I, uh- sorry.” 

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie said, and Richie felt his heart jump into his throat for a second as Eddie started moving towards him, and- laughing? “Dude, is that a fucking magazine? What is it, the fucking sixties?” 

“Fuck you!” Richie was finally moving, now, but it was mostly to jerk the magazine out of Eddie’s reach when he reached for it. Eddie didn’t seem to care that his fucking dick was out, so Richie was gonna ignore it for the time being, and hope it went away. “It’s artful, man.” 

“You’re such a grandpa,” Eddie snorted, managing to snatch the magazine away from Richie and dance just out of reach before he could snatch it back, flipping through the pages. “Is this fucking vintage magazine porn? Richie, you’ve got to be fucking kidding m-” 

The last part of the sentence died on Eddie’s tongue as he reached the centerfold, and he went pale as a ghost. “I, uh-” 

“You looked, like... Really fucking good.” That was the wrong thing to say, the stupidest thing Richie could’ve possibly said, but he spoke before he thought. 

“It- college, man.” Eddie didn’t seem like he was entirely in himself as he spoke, still staring down at the page. “I… I wanted to feel hot. So.” 

Eddie’s voice was so fucking small when he said it, it made Richie’s chest ache. “Wanted to feel hot?” he asked, sitting up a bit. “Dude. Eds, you are hot.” 

“I mean, I used to look pretty good- I worked out and shit.” Eddie shrugged, finally putting the magazine down, setting it on Richie’s bedside table. 

“I didn’t say ‘used to’,” Richie said, using his single ounce of courage for the rest of the year. “I said you are hot.” 

“Present tense?” Eddie’s gaze snapped from the carpet to Richie’s face, brow furrowed, seemingly searching it for... something. Richie wasn’t sure if he found it or not. “You think so?”

“I’ve always thought so,” he said, because he had, and if he was being honest, he may as well go the whole way with it. Fuck the line.

“Fuck, Richie.” The two words left Eddie’s mouth in one gust of breath, and before Richie could add anything onto his confession, Eddie had surged forward, and kissed him, hands on either side of Richie’s face, holding him like he was something precious . It was honestly a very sweet kiss, for how inelegant it was, and the fact that Richie’s dick was still out, several decades worth of longing and things unsaid pushed from both sides. 

When they pulled away, they were breathless, and Eddie’s forehead was resting against Richie’s. “You were really gonna sit here and jerk off to my fucking picture while I was a room away, huh?” he teased, and even if Richie knew it for what it was, guilt wormed its way into the pit of his stomach. 

“The fuck else was I supposed to do?” he shot back. “Knock on your door and go, ‘hey, Spaghetti-O, I know you’re in the process of doing your old lady skin care routine so that you can pass out by ten like some kind of retiree, but I need you to know that I found your ancient nudes, and they dredged up every fantasy I’ve ever had about you and then some. Thoughts?’” 

“Yes,” Eddie said, and then, “You’ve had a lot of fantasies about me?” 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever fantasized about,” Richie said, and he hated how fucking honest he was being about that. “Even when I didn’t know it was you, it was always- the shape of you, the flash.”

“You’re not allowed to be that romantic when your fucking hard on is digging into my hip, man,” Eddie huffed, and then he kissed Richie again. This time, there was nothing sweet about it, all heat, biting and sucking, and when Eddie pulled away to kiss down Richie’s neck, there was nothing he could do but bite back a moan. “And, yeah, you should’ve fucking come to me. You don’t need the fucking magazine when you have the real thing.” 

“Have I got it?” Richie asked, and he wasn’t even sure what he was asking, but Eddie stopped pawing at his shirt for a second to give him the answer that he needed, anyway. 

“Richie,” he said, deadly serious and flushed the same shade of pink he’d been in the picture, now. “You’ve always had me. Now, take your fucking shirt off.”

Richie didn’t have to be told twice, and by the time he got the rest of the way undressed and retrieved his glasses from where he’d flung them across the bed in the process, he was treated to Eddie having done the same, stepping out of his sleep pants, silky, stupid, monogramed button down hanging off his shoulders. “God.” He couldn’t help the outburst, and it made Eddie look over to him with a smile- no, a fucking smirk, crawling back onto the bed like some kind of stupid sex kitten from an eighties porno and letting the shirt drop to the floor in the same move. 

“Like what you see?” 

“You already know I do, asshole,” Richie said, rolling his eyes at the line and running his hands down Eddie’s sides and back up again in the same motion. “You’re fucking hot, Eddie.” 

“I like hearing you say it,” Eddie said, surging to kiss him again. He’d settled on Richie’s lap, sort of, straddling his hips, and it was fucking rewarding to feel that he was just as turned on as Richie was, even if Richie couldn’t bring himself to look down at his dick yet. That was a shade too far; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover. 

“You’re fucking hot,” he said again, sort of mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder as he pressed a kiss there, and started working his way down. “I’ll keep saying it, then.” 

“You’re- shit, Richie, we’re not fucking kids, you can’t just go giving me hickies all ove- oh, you’re probably the only person I’ve heard it from in, like- a decade,” Eddie’s head was tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, and it was such a pretty scene Richie almost didn’t process what he’d heard. 

“No one’s told you you were hot in ten fucking years?” It sounded so impossible to Richie; who the fuck could miss all this, even with the not at all provocative polos and button downs Eddie usually wore- or. Well, Richie found them provocative, but he found everything about Eddie appealing in one way or another. 

“I- fuck- was married,” Eddie said. “And we weren’t, like… that kinda couple.” 

“Her loss,” Richie said. “My gain. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“Your gain,” Eddie echoed, and he was smiling, so fucking gentle that Richie forgot how to breathe, and also the fact that he was supposed to be ravishing him. “Do you, uh. Wanna fuck me?” 

Richie’s brain stopped working. “Do I want to fuck you? Eddie. Eddie, I think if I don’t fuck you, I’ll die.” 

“You won’t die,” Eddie huffed, even though Richie wanted to protest when he removed himself from his lap. “Do you have, like. Lube and shit?” 

 “First drawer on the left.” Richie made a vague gesture towards his dresser, and readjusted to give Eddie more room on the bed when he came back.

“I haven’t fucking done this in years,” Eddie when he found what he was looking for, tossing the bottle at Richie. “So, you’re gonna have to, like. Be patient.” 

“I’m so patient,” Richie said, fumbling to catch it and then fucking up his first few attempts at getting the cap open in his haste, undercutting his whole statement. “I’m like fucking Buddha, man. Did you- want to grab a condom?” 

“I checked, yours are expired,” Eddie said, settling back onto the bed. “Which tells me, like, how little sex you’ve been having. We can, like… make a run, if you really want one? But- I’m clean, and I… if you are, then.” 

“I am,” Richie said, maybe a bit too quickly, because the idea of raw dogging Eddie was the closest he’d had to a religious epiphany in his whole life. “I- am.”  

“Good,” Eddie said, the word coming out like a sigh as Richie repositioned himself once more, looming over him to steal a kiss. “Then, do you wanna do this part, or should I?” 

“Can I?” Richie was getting gift after gift tonight, feeling like Christmas goddamn Day when Eddie nodded. He shifted down again, getting probably too sloppy with the lube as he coated his fingers. Whatever, he’d change his sheets later. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Eddie’s face as he pushed his first finger in- slow, so fucking slow, because he was being patient, and gentle. The pink was back in his cheeks, and his eyes were half lidded, eyelashes fluttering every time Richie’s finger moved, small noises Richie wasn’t even sure he knew he was making falling from his lips. “Fuck, Richie.” 

“You good?” Richie was breathless- he’d been breathless a lot in this; maybe he should ask if Eddie had any of his old inhalers lying around. 

“Am I good?” Eddie almost sounded like he was going to laugh, but Richie must’ve hit something good before he could, because the noise turned into a drawn out moan. “Jesus, Richie. Another- another, and harder, and fucking do that again.” 

“You’re so bossy,” Richie snorted, but he did what he was told because he kinda liked that Eddie was bossy. 

Two more fingers and several minutes later, Eddie’s eyes looked like they had almost rolled back in his head, and he was tugging  Richie’s hair. “Okay, you’ve- you’ve gotta fuck me now, or I think I’m gonna lose it.” 

“Losing it is the point,” Richie said, even as he drew his fingers back. The whimper Eddie let out when he did was intoxicating. 

“Not before I’ve had your dick in me,” he countered. “I’ve waited way too fucking long for this, and I’m not gonna be waiting until I get it up again because I came like a fucking college kid before we got the main event.” 

“Then here comes the show, baby,” Richie said, shifting once again. He had to manhandle Eddie a little bit so that they were both positioned properly, handing him a pillow to put under his hips because neither of them were fucking twenty somethings anymore, and he was realistic about the level of crazy they could be getting here. 

Eddie rolled his eyes as he readjusted himself. “Don’t call your dick ‘the show,’” he said. “Even if it’s- Jesus, Richie, where do you even fucking put that thing?”

“I’ve never exaggerated a big dick joke in my life,” Richie said, a little smug because fuck yeah, finally, some respect. 

“I guess not,” Eddie said. “But, having a big dick doesn’t mean you know how to fucking use it.” 

Richie’s eyes narrowed. “That a challenge, Eds?” 

“Just an observation,” Eddie shot back, laying back on the bed and looking up at Richie with a smile that was definitely a challenge. “Prove me wrong.” 

Richie took that as his cue to do exactly that, lining up and pushing in- just a bit, at first, small thrusts of his hip before Eddie kicked- literally, fucking kicked, the asshole- him into action. “We just spent twenty fucking minutes working me up to this, Richie,” he said. “Fuck me like you mean it, now.” 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman, so you can sit pretty in your desk chair tomorrow,” Richie said. 

“You can be a gentleman next time,” Eddie said- and, holy shit, next time. “This time- fuck me like you mean it.” 

Richie didn’t have to be told twice. He was really, really considering maybe starting going to church again, with all the religious experience he was having this night, but he could mull that thought after he finished processing how fucking good Eddie looked, gripping Richie’s sheets as he rocked into him, slow at first and then building. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking phenomenal.”  

“Stop using words with more than three syllables,” Eddie said, eyes fluttering shut and then open again, locking with Richie’s and not moving. “Your dick is turning off my brain.” 

“Phenomenal,” Richie said. “Effervescent. Show stopping, beautiful, an absolute fucking knock-out-” 

“Shut up,” Eddie moaned, tugging Richie down and kissing him. “You’re already fucking me, you don’t have to flatter me.” 

“It’s not flattery if you’re fucking everything,” Richie said, and that got Eddie’s eyes to widen.

“Everything?” he asked, and his voice was way, way too gentle for the moment. It seemed like an important question, for being only one word. 

“Everything,” he echoed, sure, more sure than he’d ever been about anything in his life. “Always been, Eds.”

“You can’t just say that shit, Richie,” Eddie said, but he kissed Richie again, and when he pulled away, added: “Say it again, anyway.” 

“You’re everything,” Richie repeated, and it became a mantra. “You’re everything, Eds,” like he was trying to burrow the idea so deep in Eddie’s mind he’d never fucking doubt it again, for better or for worse. They were fucking clinging to each other, now, and Richie wasn’t sure when this had turned from fucking to romance novel love making, but he wasn’t about to stop it. There was no way he could detach his feelings from this, if any of the shit he’d been saying didn’t make that obvious on its own. 

It only took a few more minutes of everything, you’re fucking everything, you’ve always been everything for Eddie to tighten around Richie, whole body curling like a spring when he came between them. “Richie, Richie, holy fucking shit-” 

“I’ve got you,” Richie said, sounding wrecked, because he was fucking close, too- he’d been close before Eddie’d come in, it was a wonder he hadn’t already blown it like a virgin- and he needed Eddie to know it. “I got you, I got you.” 

“Richie.” Eddie sounded just as wrecked, and it just took one look at his face- pink lips, pink cheeks, doe eyes blown wide under his lashes- to push him over the edge, coming with Eddie’s name on his lips. 

“Fuck.” His arms gave out, as he came down, and he flopped on top of Eddie. “Fuck, I think I’m dying.” 

“Don’t die with your dick still in me, idiot,” Eddie huffed, nudging him until he shifted and hissing as Richie pulled out. “God, I forgot this part.” 

“The afterglow?” Richie flopped on the other side of the bed now, and was pleased when Eddie shifted and followed, tucking himself against Richie’s side.

 “The part where I need to fucking shower,” Eddie said, making no move to get up.

“Do it later,” Richie said. “I’ll hop in with you, save water.” 

“If you hop in with me, neither of us are getting clean,” Eddie snorted, and god, if Richie hadn’t just came, that would’ve done some shit to him. 

“All the more reason,” he said, tucking Eddie a bit more securely into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of his head, getting a little bold. 

“Did you mean all that stuff?” Eddie asked after a beat of silence. “About-” 

“You’re everything,” Richie said, and he could feel Eddie’s breth hitching without even looking at him, because he wasn’t brave enough to do that right now. “Always been. It’s… yeah.” 

“Always?” Eddie sounded like he couldn’t believe it, which was stupid, because of course it was true. 

“Which part of that did you miss, Eds?” Richie asked. “The part earlier where I told you you were the only guy I’d ever fantasized about, or the way I used to follow you around like a puppy when we were kids, or-” 

“Shut up,” Eddie said. “It’s- you were my everything, Richie, so please, give me a damn minute to adjust to the reality that I haven’t been stupid for thinking that maybe you felt a little the same the whole time.” 

“Take a minute, then,” Richie said, because, oh, he didn’t know what to do with that, so he probably needed a minute, too. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Neither am I,” Eddie said, and that made Richie relax a little bit. “I’m staying here, tonight, by the way. I’m not sure my legs work.” 

“That good?” Richie hummed, smug, and Eddie didn’t answer, but the kiss he pressed to Richie’s shoulder did for him. “Told you, I’m fucking good.”

“One time doesn't count,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna have to give a repeat performance.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Richie said. “A few- later. Probably not tonight.” 

“Probably not tonight,” Eddie agreed. “But- soon.”  

“I’ll fuck you every night I’m home if you let me, Eds,” Richie said, and sounded a lot more lovesick than he intended. 

“You’re taking me to dinner, first,” Eddie said. “Nice dinner, that I’m not cooking.” 

“Deal,” Richie said. “It’s a date.” 

“A date.” He turned to look at Eddie, then, and he was grinning like Richie had just done something amazing. “Good.” 

Richie had to kiss him for that. “I’m getting that picture framed, by the way,” he said as they both tucked in for the night. “We can hang it in the living room.” 

“We have people over, Richie,” Eddie said. “You’re not putting my nudes in the fucking living room.”

“They’re tasteful!” Richie protested. “And, like. That wasn’t a no on the framing.” 

“It’s a good picture,” Eddie said. “But, not in the living room.” 

“My office it is, then,” Richie said. “I’ll hang it right behind me, so when I do Skype interviews, it’s there.” 

“You’re the absolute worst,” Eddie groaned, but he kissed Richie again, so Richie decided he was gonna take that as ‘maybe.’ 

[thestorytellerofkpop]

Talk Nerdy to Me

Title: Talk Nerdy to Me

Word Count: 4k+

Rating: T+

Genre: Realistic fiction, slice of life, college AU

Warnings: Fluff~

Pairings: Junmyeon (Suho) x Female Reader

Summary: Junmyeon, the Vice President of the Geek Culture Appreciation Club and biggest history nerd on campus, falls for the cute little freshmen wearing a limited edition Star Wars shirt. He knew it was love at first sight when he saw Han and Leia on your torso. Oh yeah, and you were pretty cute as well. 

A/N: For @cuddlejeongin, thank you for being patient with me!

Expo day was always Junmyeon’s favorite part of the freshman orientation at his college. All the clubs lined out in the quad, showing off their skills and trying to get new members to join them. Junmyeon loved the colors, the music, the laughs and noises when all intertwined together created an organized catastrophe and an euphoria of sensations that gave Junmyeon chills.

He was actually at his own club’s table, Geek Culture Appreciation to be exact. Right in between the digital arts and LARP-ing clubs. He smoothed down the blue tablecloth for the nth time that morning, making sure the pamphlets were neat and the visual aids straight.

“Junmyeon, you never fail to amaze me.” the president of the club, Baekhyun, patted him on the back. “And you brought cookies?” Baekhyun smiled, reaching out to take one when Junmyeon smacked his hand away, Baekhyun whining in protest.

“They’re not for you.” Junmyeon shot his president a glare, wiping away the crumbs that fell from the plate.

“Geez, Baekhyun making you vice president really has let your more aggressive side come out.” Xiumin snickered when he came up to the table.

“Keep in mind this is only our second year of having this club, little junior Junmyeonie was my only contender.”

“Don’t baby me, we’re both juniors and I’m older than you, you brat.” Junmyeon squished Baekhyun’s cheeks, who just swatted his hands away with a cheeky grin. Junmyeon couldn’t help but smile back. Annoying as Baekhyun may be, he was just too cute for his own good. 

Soon enough the freshman class flowed out of the gym and into the quad, timidly strolling the isles and looking amongst the booths. Some of the returning students explored as well, Junmyeon waved at a scowling Sehun (his fellow friend, majoring in History with a focus in European history, just like Junmyeon was) and even Amber ran up to him in greetings, giving him a hug and taking a pamphlet and one of the cookies with a wink and the promise to join this year.

“Seriously we need more girls.” Baekhyun sighed, tapping his fingers against the table in thought.

“I know, HR told us if we didn’t get more females we’d be in deep shit. Something about diversity.” Xiumin sighed. “Which is silly in my opinion since we’re basically 20 members strong and one of the largest growing clubs at this school. They can’t just shut us down because we have a 1:5 female ratio. Junmyeon what do you think?” Xiumin turned towards his friend, who was staring intently at a girl exploring the World’s Showcase club.

“Woah, Baek, check it out.” Xiumin nudged his friend and pointed at the girl, to which Baekhyun just gasped.

“Is that?”

“A limited edition Millennium Falcon shirt with Han and Leia that was released in 1979 to promote the early access premiere of ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ in Hollywood that was given to those only at the first screening?” Junmyeon spewed out his words like an encyclopedia, staring in awe not only at the shirt, but the girl wearing it as well.

“Damn Myeon, no wonder you’re VP.” Xiumin patted his friend on the back.

“We have to have her in this club, she’ll be a great addition!” Baekhyun smiled, preparing to approach her when Junmyeon’s hand stopped him.

“W-Wait. Maybe we shouldn’t.” his cheeks felt hot, and he knew for sure Baekhyun could feel his hand shaking.

“Why not? Junmyeon you look like you’re going to be sick.” Xiumin placed a hand on his forehead, pouting in concern.

“Junmyeon?” Baekhyun gasped, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Could this be our little Myeonnie’s first college crush?”

Junmyeon swore his face got ten times more red, looking at the ground in embarrassment. He fiddled with his hands and began to stammer out excuses, but his friends awes and squeals drowned out his words. Soon he found himself smushed between two bodies, two pairs of arms hugging and squeezing his abdomen tightly.

“Now I have to get her over here.” Baekhyun snickered and before Junmyeon could stop him, he scurried over to the World’s Showcase table, smiling and introducing himself to the girl. Junmyeon could see her smile and follow Baekhyun to the table, to which Junmyeon’s cheeks flushed deeper.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She said she’s interested in finding out more about our club.”

“Hey, I’m Xiumin, and this blushing nerd over there is Junmyeon, our vice president.” Xiumin shook Y/N’s hand, nudging Junmyeon to do the same.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/N smiled at Junmyeon, holding out her hand to him. Junmyeon deadpanned. Her smile was out-of-this-world and for this first time in his life, Junmyeon felt his brain short circuit. It took Baekhyun’s hand on his shoulder and Xiumin’s shaky laugh to remind him where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He took her hand and smiled back, albeit nervously and he couldn’t help but notice the giggle fall past her lips.

Baekhyun and Xiumin started explaining the basis of the club; what they did, how often they met, but Junmyeon couldn’t seem to muster up any words to add. He was too busy sneaking glances at the girl in front of him, nibbling on the chocolate chip cookie she grabbed, happy as can be. His cheeks still held their pink tint as he drunk in her features. Her smile and the way the corners of her lips turned up, how her eyes crinkled when she laughed, and how she shuffled her feet when shifting her weight.

“So I guess we’ll be seeing you at our first meeting?” Baekhyun asked after he handed her all the club forms.

“Oh most definitely! I can’t wait! I hope to see all of you there.” Y/N said. Junmyeon locked eyes with her and for the briefest of seconds, he could’ve sworn he saw her eyes sparkle. He watched her leave with bated breath, nibbling on his bottom lip in thought.

“The least you can do is stop blatantly staring at her ass, dude.” Baekhyun snickered, throwing an arm over his friend’s shoulders. Junmyeon shook his head, a sigh leaving his lips.

“You’re so whipped.” Xiumin chuckled.

Yes. Yes he was.

~*~

Monday couldn’t have come fast enough. Junmyeon had woken up bright and early, anticipation and excitement raced in his veins as he made his way to the showers. Junmyeon always loved the first day of school. Ever since he was a little boy. He loved the smell of fresh paper, the way ink would splatter on his fingers from writing too fast (because he only used gel pens and refused to settle for ballpoint), and how new erasers felt in his palms.

He rushed back into his dorm, freshly showered and ready to face the day, grabbing a water and a protein bar from his tiny mini fridge and throwing a pillow at his sleeping roommate who groaned in annoyance.

“Chanyeol you’ll be late if you don’t get up.” he called, already halfway out the door.

“’S the first day Myeon, give me five more minutes.” Chanyeol mumbled, but Junmyeon was already gone and didn’t hear the annoyed words from his friend.

He was the first in the classroom on the third floor of the Roosevelt building, claiming his favorite spot, in the middle slightly off to the left. He brought out his laptop and a notebook, the feeling of taking handwritten notes always felt better than typing notes out. But when he wanted to do extra research later he would make a note in his Word Document on the topic. Students soon began to trickle in, and Junmyeon smiled when his blonde friend plopped in the seat to his right, Starbucks latte and all.

“Sehun.”

“Junmyeon.”

“Do you-”

“Still too early Myeon, I’m just now waking up.” Sehun sighed. He took a sip of his latte and removed the bulky black sunglasses from his face, setting up his own laptop. Junmyeon pursed his lips and Sehun just sent him a sly wink and Junmyeon couldn’t help but smile.

Five minutes before the class was ready to begin, Sehun nudged him out of his focused stupor.

“Who’s the cutie just walking in?” Sehun pointed her out and Junmyeon had to pinch his leg to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It was Y/N. The cute girl from the expo. Junmyeon shook his head and tried to hide his blush.

“Never seen her before in my life.” Junmyeon shoved his head back into his computer, pretending to look busy.

“She looks like your type, a little young to be in a 300 class though, don’t you think?” Sehun pondered, following her around the hall with his eyes. He snickered and leaned in close to Junmyeon’s ear.

“She’s coming down here.” and Sehun laughed at Junmyeon’s expression; an utter look of horror. She had chosen the seat next to him, him of all people in this goddamn classroom.

“Hey, Junmyeon right?” she smiled at him and Junmyeon could only nod.

“He’s usually not like this, normally I can’t get him to shut up in these types of classes.” Sehun chuckled and leaned forward to meet the girl’s gaze. “Well, Junmyeonie, aren’t you going to introduce me to her?”

“Y/N this is Sehun, my excruciatingly diva-like best friend.” Junmyeon smiled when he managed to pull a laugh past Y/N’s lips and he couldn’t find himself to be bothered when Sehun clicked his tongue at him, playfully flipping his hair back.

“I know I’m the world’s biggest diva, but that doesn’t mean you have to say it aloud.” Sehun rolled his eyes, turning back towards Y/N with a smile. “So, you look a little young to be in this advanced class. What’s a baby like you doing down here with us old folk?”

“Well, um, I took a lot of dual enrolment history courses in high school, and the college took all my credits, so they moved me up to the junior level.” Y/N explained and Junmyeon was fascinated.

“What area of history is your favorite to study?” he asked.

“Oh, well hit me with the hard questions.” Y/N chuckled, pulling out a notebook and an array of colored pens. “I’ve taken a lot, but my favorite is European history, between 1860-1950. But Ancient and Colonial History around the world is also fascinating to study as well.”

“What a small world, the area Junmyeon focuses in is European history of the 19th and 20th centuries. I’m much more into the Cold War era, Soviet Union History myself what with my Russian minor and all, but you’ll definitely be seeing a lot of Junmyeon then.” Sehun snickered and Junmyeon felt his face heat up.

The professor suddenly walked in and Junmyeon’s attention went straight to her. European dictators of the 19th and 20th century. That was their focus for this semester effective immediately. That’s what Junmyeon liked about this professor, she never delayed her teachings on the first day when most professors would go over the syllabus and classroom introductions for the entire hour and fifteen minutes. He found it quite pointless really, when you can just read the stupid thing yourself and talk to those you found appealing, but he supposed there were some people who needed it.

Francisco Franco would be their first dictator to study, but the professor expected basic outline notes on all the dictators they would be studying before they dived into the finer details. He felt a nudge on his left side and looked at Y/N quizzically. She passed him a sticky note, which he opened and read the sentence she wrote over and over again.

I wouldn’t mind seeing a lot of you, y’know.

Junmyeon looked back over at Y/N to see if she was just waiting for him to look over only to laugh in his face, but, she was just scribbling away at her notes. Her eyes focused on the paper in front of her; she didn’t even spare Junmyeon a second glance.

Junmyeon noticed the Ravenclaw stickers on her binder and suddenly a domestic scene clouded his mind. No longer was he thinking about God, Gold and Glory or of Francisco Franco. Rather, a warm fireplace in a small cozy living room. Rain pelting the windows in sheets, and Y/N sitting in his lap, wrapped up in a soft fluffy blanket with a mug of something sweet in her hands. Junmyeon smiled when she pushed his glasses back up his nose for him, loving the way she giggled and snuggled into his body even more. It was warm, warm, warm, and Junmyeon couldn’t help but place a kiss upon her cheek. He pulled the book he was holding up closer to his face, (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to be exact) and continued reading the passage aloud.

He was brought out of his stupor when Sehun nudged his shoulder, leaning in close to him to whisper into his ear.

“You were daydreaming. You never daydream, especially in these classes, are you alright?”

Junmyeon shot a quick glance to the girl on his other side. She was deep into the lecture, taking notes so rapidly Junmyeon wondered how her hand hadn’t cramped up yet. Her focused look, the way her hair fell into her face. Oh. He was royally fucked.

“I’ve never been better.”

~*~

Junmyeon drew six columns in his notebook, the lines as straight as he could them before organizing each column by color. Hitler in green, Stalin in red, Lenin in purple, Mussolini in orange, Franco in blue, and Kai-shek in pink. He flipped through one of the textbooks laid on his bed to the section on Hitler’s rise to power, ready for an extensive note-taking session, when his thoughts strayed away from Nazi Germany (arguably one of the moments in history Junmyeon found most fascinating).

Chanyeol looked up in alarm when Junmyeon threw his notebook to the floor, highlighters and colored pens scattering through his bed-sheets. He watched him remove his glasses and sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“European dictators of the 19th and 20th centuries finally getting to you buddy? It’s only been two days.” Chanyeol chuckled, peering over the edge of his phone to watch Junmyeon go pick up his notebook.

“Nice ass by the way.” Chanyeol snickered when he bent down and Junmyeon had half-the-mind to smack his friend silly.

“Not in the mood today, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon plopped back down onto his bed, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “I already can’t focus, I don’t need your extra side comments distracting me either.”

“Woah, touchy are we?” Chanyeol sat up, staring Junmyeon down until he looked at him.

“Seriously though, what’s bothering you? You only ruffle your hair like that when you’re nervous. You’re giving off a very good impression of Park Jimin right now.” Chanyeol threw his phone across his bed with a little plop and watched as Junmyeon, yet again, pushed his round wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s about a girl.” he started.

“Oh you mean Y/N, the one you couldn’t stop staring at during the orientation expo?”

“How did you-”

“Baekhyun tells me everything sweetie. It’ll take a lot to get one past this man.” Chanyeol smiled, throwing Junmyeon the cheesiest finger-guns he’s seen since 2nd grade.

“Anyways…she’s in this history class with me and Sehun. Like she’s wicked smart for a freshman, she took so many history courses in high school and got enough credits to jump into our level. She’s just really intelligent and cute and she was wearing this limited edition Star-Wars shirt that was made in-

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol cut off Junmyeon’s rambling, a smirk playing on his lips. “You have a crush on her don’t you?”

Junmyeon felt his cheeks flare up and scowled at the way Chanyeol giggled and told him how adorable he was.

“I can’t stop thinking about her, that’s why I cant concentrate.” he admitted and was soon met with a plethora of kissy noises and awes from his friend across the room.

“I can hear the bells.” his friend sang and Junmyeon cocked his head in confusion. Chanyeol dead-panned.

“It’s from Hairspray dude, you need to get out more.” Chanyeol shook his head. “Anyways, what are you going to do about this predicament?”

“I don’t know dude. I really want to get to know her first. But I’m not ballsy enough to just go up to her and say ‘Hey, you’re cute. Go on a date with me?’.”

“Damn right you’re not.” Chanyeol laughed and Junmyeon shot him a glare.

“Doesn’t mean I need you to say it back.”

“Anyways,” Chanyeol spoke over his friend, giving him a pointed stare. “You need to get her attention first before you can make any moves on her.”

Junmyeon looked up in exasperation at his friend, who was oh-so grinning cheekily behind his large framed glasses. He noticed how Chanyeol’s eyes looked bigger behind the frames, almost sparkling behind the glass while his own glasses did nothing to enunciate his face. Damn Chanyeol for being able to make even the clunkiest of objects look attractive on him.

“Yeah? And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“Y’know, be all like, ‘Oh my god I’m on fire! I need to stop’-” Chanyeol slid from the bed, Junmyeon watching in horror when his friend’s tone turned suggestive and sultry.

“Drop,” Chanyeol spread himself out on the floor, his legs widening as he arched his back. “And roll.” Chanyeol rolled himself onto his stomach, resting his head on top of his hands. He sent Junmyeon a wink and proceeded to roll away in laughter when his blushing roommate threw his pen at him.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to do something like that in a public place.” Junmyeon groaned, covering his ruby cheeks with his hands.

“Take a joke Myeon, maybe just start by saying hi?” Chanyeol chuckled before hoisting himself back onto his bed.

Hi? Yeah, Junmyeon could do that for sure.

~*~

Turns out Junmyeon couldn’t do that. When Y/N arrived in class the next day he could barely open his mouth to stutter out a ‘hi’, instead opting to allow his pink blush to brush his cheekbones and his eyes to sneak glances at her in between note taking and during club meetings. Junmyeon didn’t think he could ever find the opportunity (or courage mind you) to utter a sentence around Y/N and would just have to suffer the next three years of college in agony. That is until Y/N approached him first.

“Good discourse tonight guys! And gals,” Baekhyun sent a cheeky wink to all the females in the club before continuing his closing. “Next weeks discussion; Marvel vs DC, so make sure to pick your sides and prepare your arguments for next week! Have a good night guys!”

Everyone dispersed, a couple of the students raiding the leftovers of the snack table when Junmyeon approached Baekhyun.

“We need to meet to make the next few months schedules.” he said pointedly, allowing his eyes to glance over at Y/N who was talking to Amber animatedly.

“Sure Myeonnie, maybe we could meet on-” Baekhyun’s words trailed off and he smirked as he looked over Junmyeon’s shoulder.

“Hey guys!” Junmyeon turned around and saw Y/N standing there, a smile etched on her face.

“Oh, lovely Y/N, the only defender tonight in saying Quicksilver and Scarlett Witch are the best twins in literature and/or comic fiction. What can we help you with this evening?” Baekhyun asked.

“Well, normally Amber would walk me back to my dorm, since it’s on the outskirts of campus near that sketch gas station, but tonight she’s chasing after Loona,” Y/N chuckled and her cheeks flushed. Junmyeon saw her eyes shift over to him and he suddenly became bashful.

“And I was wondering if one of you would mind accompanying me back? It’s just so late, and you never know what kind of people could be lurking about and-”

“No, my dear, it’s perfectly understandable. Which dorm is it?” Baekhyun asked.

“University Hall.”

“Ha! As a matter of fact, Junmyeon dorms there too, don’t you Myeonnie?” Baekhyun nudged his side and Junmyeon looked up at Y/N, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. Him and Baekhyun always stayed late to clean up the club room and he never even guessed that Y/N was in the same dorm building as him. The thought that Y/N was living so close to him all this time had his stomach churning in nervousness, but excitement.

“Y-Yeah, I do. I don’t mind walking you back if that’s okay with you?” Junmyeon cringed at his slight stutter and he could practically feel Baekhyun shaking in silent laughter next to him.

“I would like that. Just let me go get my bag,” she smiled, rushing across the room to grab her things.

“This is your chance Myeon! Go get her man!” Baekhyun whispered hastily, shoving Junmyeon towards the door despite his friend’s protests.

“Ready?” Y/N asked Junmyeon, fidgeting with the straps of her bookbag. 

“Yeah, lets go,” Junmyeon held the door open and smiled when Y/N blushed, thanking him as she stepped into the nighttime air.

They walked for the first couple minutes in silence, Junmyeon internalizing the silence in his mind as awkwardness and that Y/N really didn’t want anything to do with him until-

“So…” Y/N started, but stopped her sentence just as quickly, bringing her gaze down to the ground.

“Hmm?” Junmyeon asked.

“I’m sorry if I’m making this awkward, I just don’t know what to say.” Y/N chuckled nervously.

“What? No! You’re fine Y/N, more than fine actually.” Junmyeon spoke before he thought and instantly broke out in a blush once he realized what he said. Y/N giggled.

“I, uh, I really liked the shirt you wore at the expo! I-I should have told you sooner, but I guess we just never had the time to talk about it.” Junmyeon chuckled nervously, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. 

“Oh? You’re a Star Wars fan too?” Y/N’s interest was peeked and Junmyeon suddenly felt more comfortable.

“Hell yeah, it’s far superior to Star Trek.”

“I know right?! Some people don’t understand when I only like the one instead of both but c’mon, anyone with half a mind would know Star Wars is obviously the better space sci-fi franchise.”

And that’s was the entire topic of conversation until Junmyeon dropped you off in front of your dorm, laughing while he shushed you as to not wake the other people (probably) sleeping around you both.

“I really had fun tonight,” Y/N said after her giggles had died down.

“I did too, surprisingly you’re easier to talk to than my anxiety made it out to be.” Junmyeon admitted, making Y/N chuckle softly.

“Junmyeon,” Y/N started, stepping a bit closer to him. “I was wondering…o-only if you want to of course! To, um, maybe possibly go on a date with me? W-We can even make it a study date since we do have that essay on Hitler due in a few weeks and-”

Y/N stopped when she felt the pair of lips on her cheek. Junmyeon chuckled when he pulled away only to see that her cheeks were as red as his.

“I’d love to. You have my number from the club papers right? Just let me know what times work for you.”

“O-Okay, goodnight Junmyeon.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” Junmyeon turned on his heel once Y/N was safely in her dorm, quickly walking to his dorm and slamming the door shut behind him. He let out a yell of victory, doing a dance in the doorway when he heard a cough. Chanyeol was watching him with a shit eating grin on his face, game controller in hand.

“Didja finally get her Junmyeon?” Chanyeol teased as Junmyeon plopped onto his bed.

“I got her alright Chanyeol. Her and Hitler.”

[cecelianonymous22]

bmc digital art dump

Basically all the shit I can scrounge up considering I was in this fandom before I had Tumblr

This is band!Michael! I love him. He plays guitar and does backup vocals. He also plays trumpet on the side. Me and my friend Evan were trying to do Expensive Headphones but then there was a lot of drama and forced Stagedorks AND Pupgrade. So..we didn’t make it. Smh they were just tryna eat breakfast.

Another RP-based one! This is Project Player Two, aka Jeremy, created by Michael, who is an engineer. This one was with another friend (and Evan’s girlfriend) named Gold. It was going pretty well but we kinda fell out of it. There was going to be a whole Expensive Headphones thing for Jeremy to get suspicious about but the RP died before we got there. Also Jeremy fucking broke Michael’s TV with a remote.

My most recent one! This is god!Michael. He’s originally from a fantasy RP but me and Evan just decided to turn it into an Expensive Headphones RP. So, it’s demon!Rich x god!Michael, because angel x demon stuff is cool but boring for roleplays. So this is something to spice up the norms. I did this on my school computer, which is way more sensitive to brush strokes than my drawing tablet. Hence why it’s a little more detailed than my other pieces. Oh and fun fact: Michael was alive but died and became reincarnated as a god (he doesn’t know why and it frustrates him). He was a poet in his past life. :)

DUSTY!! I love him lmao. But yeah, this is my headcannon for what he looks like (minus the bleached tips. idk why I did that but I just thought it would look cool). This is the design that I’m using for my BMC fangame Feelin’ Kinda Cocky, btw.

Alright, digging into some of my older pieces. This was for the YouTuber contest on Amino! I don’t think I did the submission right though, bc I really thought this would be mentioned. But oh well. This is Michael and Jeremy as Kryoz and Smii7y! (Note: I don’t ship them. Shipping real people is toxic as hell unless they want to be shipped, like Wilbur Soot and Nihachu. Just thought I’d mention.)

This one isn’t really a full piece of art but I’m still putting it in. This is the art for the quarantine cover of More Than Survive! It was a big project that I’m very proud to have been a part of. Not only did I draw this but I also voiced Jenna, edited the audio together, and made the lyric video. You can find the video here: https://youtu.be/3bGAFtTVaYw?list=PLswS5sUYgqXS9OIkRBrLIi5o9wMvZf2Ug 

Ew crusty looking one- Yeah, you can tell this is one of my older pieces because they have the same body type. But it’s not too bad- But yeah, Expensive Headphones! My comfort ship. This is the thumbnail for an animation meme I made on my second YouTube channel (aka, not my main one, yet it has more subscribers). I honestly don’t want to promote it because it sucks ass but if you wanna go look for it, alright, whatever. Just know that I have no fucking clue how to animate but I wanted to make Expensive Headphones content.

I was fucking around with color palettes and made this neat-looking Michael. This image just gives me Glass Animals vibes for some reason. Even if this falls into the old “every character has the same body” line of art, I’m kinda proud of this :)

This one was kind of a lazy one. Another thing I drew on my school laptop. Not much to say other than it looked way better on my school laptop.

Another one from my school laptop. I’m pretty proud of this one! I started the sketch one day, then kinda felt like shit the next day. And so I made some Rich angst. (Also first time I’ve properly drawn messy hair, I think. But it won’t be the last time, course. The Creep comic exists lmao-)

This was literally just a shitpost because I found this fuckin thing so funny:

Behold, my most liked post on the BMC Amino. Pickle Rich.

Alright, this one’s an OC. Me and Gold had a demon hunter!Jake x angel!Jeremy RP. And this was the motherfucker who helped Jake get to Jeremy. He’s a dick and I love him. (Yes I know he looks like a fucking Homestuck character, piss off)

A phone background that I made! Evan used it for a while. Hell, she might still use it. I have no clue. I just thought this little concept was cool and wanted to draw it out.

Me and my girlfriend, Cal, did this a while ago. It was fun lmao- Chuck E Cheese Michael (I can explain) and Goth IHOP Rich :)))

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)

Part 3/10: A Gruesome Twosome

Therissa slaps on her headphones, cranks up the volume on her CD player, and lets herself get lost in her world of mediocre, low-budget nail art. Starting off by removing her old coat with some “peach scented” acetone (which actually smells like pure toxic chemicals and isn’t fruity in the least), Therissa decides to go with a simple basic black and starts with her right hand. Therissa likes to get the worst over with first. Painting her own nails with her non-dominant hand is still a pain in the ass even though she’s done this a hundred times before.

By the time Therissa’s finished with two coats of black and a clear top coat on both hands, it’s been well over an hour. All she’s got left to do is wait until they’re dry. To speed things up a bit, she plugs in her hair dryer and uses the cool setting to assist with the drying process. Curious, she glances over at Violet’s bunk again, just to see if her roommate is still in the same spot she saw her last.

Sure enough, there she is… in all of her gloomy, glowering glory.

Except now she’s sitting upright and watching her.

“You know, if you’re just gonna creep on me the whole weekend, maybe I should stay with my sister after all,” Therissa comments aloud, knowing full well that her voice is being drowned out by the obnoxious humming of her hair dryer. She watches as the frown on Violet’s face is replaced with a perplexed expression, confirming that she didn’t catch a word she said.

Violet mouths something, and even though Therissa can’t hear it, it’s undoubtedly a confused ‘What?’

Once she deems her nails to be dry enough, Therissa shuts the appliance off. “You’re not seriously going to mope around the entire time Brody’s gone, are you?”

Scowl returning, Violet visibly stiffens and crosses her arms. “I’m not moping.”

Therissa rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the mess on her desk, starting to put things back into their proper place. “Whatever you say.”

Hair clips, cotton pads, tiny bottles of dark reds, purples, blues and blacks… The teen haphazardly tosses everything back into her makeup box. So she isn’t the most organized person in the world, but so what? Her fingers curl around her half empty bottle of nail polish remover, ready to put it back as well, but then she stops as an interesting idea comes to her. The corners of her lips twitch with the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Hey, V,” Therissa calls, “come here for a sec.”

Violet is apprehensive, her voice unsure. “What for?”    

“Just get your butt down here before I change my mind.”

Before she can stop herself, Violet finds herself complying with the command. She climbs down her ladder and stops once her feet reach the floor, pausing to stare at Therissa as though trying to figure out her intentions before stepping any closer.

Still seated, Therissa scoots herself a couple of feet to the right and gestures to the space beside her. “Pull up a chair.”    

The younger girl silently obliges, dragging her own chair across the room and placing it beside Therissa’s, but still keeping a bit of distance between them. Violet slowly lowers herself onto the very edge of her chair and keeps on her toes… just in case. Curious green eyes watch the teen, who pulls out several small bottles from a box on her desk and starts to line them up in a neat row.

Oh no.  

If this is what this looks like… and it really, really does… any second now Therissa is going to-

“Let me do your nails.”

Violet internally groans.

“You’ve got nothing better to do… I’ve got nothing better to do…” Therissa leans her head on her hand, looking at the unenthusiastic girl beside her. “Honestly, what have either of us got to lose?”

“My dignity.”

The comeback is timed so perfectly, with just the right amount of snark that Therissa is both amused and impressed. Compared to when she first arrived at Ericson’s, Violet has come a long way in regards to feeling comfortable around others, Therissa included. There’s something rather endearing about the way that she’s gone from never saying a word to Therissa, much less making eye contact, to being able to be herself around her. She can even be kind of sassy sometimes.

For the second time that morning, Therissa explodes into laughter.

By now, Violet can recognize when Therissa’s laughing to be mean and when she’s laughing for real, and this happens to be one of those rare times when it’s a genuine, happy-from-the-inside-out kind of laugh. The younger girl sits up a little straighter, feeling somewhat proud of herself for making her roommate laugh like this. It turns out to be almost contagious, too, because Violet has to try really hard to keep a straight face.

“Relax, I promise I won’t make you look like a fairy princess or whatever. My shades rock,” Therissa says confidently. “Besides, if you end up hating them, just take the polish off. No commitment needed.”    

Violet has never cared about makeup and nail polish and girly things like that, but the fact that Therissa, the teenager who never used to want anything to do with either her or Brody, is extending an invitation to join her is such an unheard of occurrence that it’s kind of enticing. So Violet shrugs and forces out a sigh, sitting deeper into her chair. “Fine.”    

“Pick a color, any color.”

All of Therissa’s nail polish is dark and dramatic, much like the teen herself. Her selection of colors may not be bright and bubbly, but they’re still rich and vibrant in their own way. It’s no surprise that there are two different shades of black in the mix as well. Leaning closer to get a better look at those two in particular, Violet immediately gets the urge to ask what in the heck the difference between “Midnight Misery” and “Satan’s Satin” is, but, before she can, her gaze locks onto one particular bottle at the very end of the row.

Inside the bottle is a gorgeous sapphire blue with swirls of silvery glitter, like an ocean of stars against the night sky. It’s mesmerizing, and Violet can’t quite take her eyes away. She’s never seen Therissa wear this color before. And it’s not that she wants to put it anywhere on herself, exactly… she kind of just wants to look at it.  

She must have stared for a little too long because Therissa, catching on, grabs the bottle in question with a teasing grin. “Did you always like sparkly things or is Brody rubbing off on you?”  

Violet’s ears feel hot. “I don’t! I was… I was just looking.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Therissa says. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

The teen raises an eyebrow. “Your hand, so I can do your nails. Duh.”

“R-right…” Violet clears her throat and timidly offers her left arm to Therissa, who takes her wrist and pulls it closer to her face. The first thing that the younger girl notices is that her roommate’s hand is a lot softer and warmer than she expected, and it makes her feel a little strange.

“Gross, Violet, you need to stop biting your nails.”

Now completely and utterly mortified, Violet tries to yank her hand away, but Therissa holds on tight.

“Uh-uh, I’m fixing this.” The teen fishes through her makeup box until she locates what she’s looking for - a pair of nail clippers. “Seriously. Don’t do that. It’s a disgusting habit.”

So Therissa clips the uneven, jagged tips of Violet’s chewed fingernails and only then starts to paint them. The teen works left to right, from Violet’s little finger to her thumb, each stroke smooth, fluid and deliberate. It’s so much easier doing somebody else’s nails than your own. In no time at all, she’s done with one hand and sets the brush down. “What do you think?”

“Um...” Violet moves her hand to get a better look.

“Don’t move your fingers or you’ll ruin them.”

Keeping her digits as stiff as she can, Violet rotates her wrist to examine her nails. The unfamiliar weight on her fingertips is totally new and is definitely one of the most bizarre sensations she’s felt in a long time. She answers honestly. “It feels kinda weird.”

Snorting, Therissa grabs Violet’s other hand so she can finish up. “Seriously, though. Don’t touch anything until they’re dry, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You know, Brody would kill to be in your place right now. Apparently her mom won’t let her paint her nails until she’s sixteen.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve read her diary.”

“You what?”

Therissa holds back a laugh. “It was like one time, I swear. Like last year. And that was before..." She trails off, stopping herself from finishing that sentence out loud. Before we liked each other. Therissa's not in the mood to humiliate herself by admitting that she cares about Brody now and would never read it again. Time to change the subject. "Can you believe that, though? The only thing more ridiculous is the fact that she actually obeys that stupid rule."

For the next several minutes, both girls are quiet while Therissa continues working on Violet’s nails. There’s something about sitting so close to one another, hands touching, that’s making this a little more intimate than either of them expected. They seem to have formed an unspoken agreement to just not say anything else until Therissa is finished.

With one last swipe of glittery blue across Violet’s pinky, Therissa lets out a satisfied sigh and recaps her nail polish. “Done and done. Let’s get these dry and then you’ll be good to go.”

While Therissa gets her blow dryer set up again, Violet holds her hands out in front of her and stares at her new nails, unable to recognize them as her own. It almost feels like a stranger’s hands have somehow been fused to her wrists. There’s only one way to be sure. Violet takes a deep breath, then tries to wiggle her fingers.

And they move.

These are her hands.  

Out of her mouth slips a soft, breathy whisper. “...Holy shit.”

Smiling smugly, Therissa switches on the hair dryer and extends her open palm. By now, Violet knows the drill so she wordlessly gives her roommate her hand. Anything else she said wouldn’t be heard over the noise anyway. As Therissa dries her nails, Violet notices right away that the air is nice and cool against her skin - not warm like she expected. After Violet’s fingertips have been under the dryer for long enough, Therissa shuts the device off.

“Well, congrats. You survived.”

After giving her fingernails another long, hard stare, Violet looks over at Therissa, only briefly meeting the teen’s eyes before having to look away. “Thanks, I guess…”

Therissa quickly waves it off. “Don’t mention it. Ever.”

The younger girl stands and pushes her chair back to her own desk on the other side of the room, then plunks down on the unoccupied bottom bunk, sighing.

“Do you really have nothing to do all weekend?” asks Therissa, leaning back in her chair and using Brody’s empty bed as a footrest. There’s no malicious intent behind the question. Violet can tell by her neutral tone that she’s not asking to make fun of her, but because she truly wants to know the answer. “I mean, like, isn’t there anybody else you can hang out with?”

Violet merely shrugs, now appearing to be a little too interested in one of the scuffs on the floor. “I just don’t feel like it today.”

“Brody’s cool and all, but you really should try to find some other friends.”

The blonde picks her head up and peeks at her roommate, lips pursed in a sort of half-smile. “Did you just call Brody cool?”

“No! Shut up. I meant ‘cool’ in that… you know...” The teen struggles to find the right words to convey how she feels about their other roommate. She thinks back to the other day, the night before Brody left, and she can still picture her stuffing clothes into that gaudy yellow duffel bag of hers while excitedly rambling on and on in her quirky southern accent about all the things her family had planned for the weekend. “Like, in that cute, geeky sort of way.”

Violet’s smile grows into what Therissa would call a blood-boiling, shit-eating grin. “You called her cute.”

“God, Violet!” Therissa grabs the first object within reach - a nail file - and flings it in her direction. “I just meant that she’s a good kid.” Violet has the audacity to laugh, causing Therissa to jump up and lunge at her. “And you’re infuriating!”

“I’m not laughing! I’m not-” Clearly laughing, Violet tries to fight Therissa off her, but the older girl easily pins her to the bed.

“Laugh it up while you can, Blondie,” huffs Therissa, releasing Violet and collapsing onto the mattress beside her. The teen waits for her roommate to get a grip on herself before laying down the law. “Here’s how it’s going to be, so listen up. You won’t mention this conversation to Brody, ever, and I won’t tell her how miserable you are whenever she’s gone. Capisce?”  

The younger girl freezes. There is no way Brody can ever find out about that. Not that it’s true, of course, because it’s not... but Violet can’t have Therissa putting crazy ideas into her best friend’s head. And knowing Brody, she would totally believe her. Seeing as she doesn’t have much of a choice, Violet gives a weak thumbs-up.  

“You’ll live. It’s only four days.”

Violet watches as Therissa pushes herself upright and goes back to her side of the room. The teen resumes cleaning up her desk and Violet, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest, takes that as a sign that the two of them are done hanging out. Returning to her own bunk, Violet lies on her back, trying to come up with something to do for the rest of the day… and the three after that.

Four more days...

“The hell are you doing back up there?”

Violet lifts her head at the sound of her roommate’s voice. Therissa’s standing there, hand on her hip and looking at her like she’s an idiot. There’s a stack of CDs and an old boom box on her desk where the nail polish and makeup used to be.

“Come on, I’m going to introduce you to some real music.”

A tiny smile forms on Violet’s face.

Maybe the next four days won’t be so bad after all.

[reneehearts]

Not doing this as an ask...because no one ever asks me any 😂

angel; do you have a nickname? Yes: Nee, Renizzle, Nee Nee, Doots

awe; how old are you? 27

baby; favorite color? Purple (I’d you couldn’t tell lol)

bloop; spirit animal? Monkey

blossom; favorite book/movie/song? Water for Elephants/Remember the Titans/Props and Mayhem

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child? Lumpy! He was a lil pastel horse

breeze; most precious childhood memory? Working in the garden with my Papa

bright; mermaids or fairies? Fairies

bubbles; do you have a best friend? I have a few

buttercup; showers or baths? Showers

butterfly; dream destination? Key West or Bahamas...anywhere tropical

buttons; are you religious or spiritual? More spiritual

calm; favorite scent? Pine/Christmas trees

candlelight; what did you dream about last night? I had a dream I was freaking out because I didn’t do my essay for class and it was due in like an hour lol

charming; have you ever been in love? Yes

cozy; eye/hair color? Hazel-ish/blonde

cuddly; what’s your favorite time period? 20s, 90s

cupcake; favorite flower/plant? I have a few favorite flowers: Sunflower, Daisy, Tulip, Lilac/Evergreen tree

cute; what did you get on your last birthday? Jewelry and a designer purse

cutie pie; most precious item you own? My dog

cutsie; what makes you happy? My puppy, ice cream, family/good friends

daisies; describe a moment when you felt free. I don’t know if I ever really have

daydream; how do you want to be remembered? Kind, generous, strong, independent

daylight; favorite album of all time? Collide with the Sky - Pierce the Veil

dear; zodiac sign? Leo

delightful; concerts or museums? Concerts

dimples; have you ever written a letter? Of course

dobby; dream job? Ice cream/candy store owner

doll; how do you like to dress? Cute but casual; leggings, oversized sweaters, bralettes

dovey; any paranormal/magical experiences? I’ve had premonition dreams that have come true

dreams; do you want or have any tattoos? I have 8 and probably want more at some point

drizzle; do you believe in aliens? I’m not really sure

euphoric; talk about someone you love. My best friend: she would do anything for me, we have a bond through our ED that is so strong. It’s hard to explain how we are so close, we are very different and come from different lifestyles but she means the world to me. We don’t need to talk everyday to know that we are there for each other.

fairy; do you have a pet? I have my own dog; an Australian Shepherd and my parents have 4 dogs

fluffy; ocean or mountain? Ocean

forever; where do you feel time stop? Work

froglet; are you a good plant owner? Nope

garden; how many languages do you know? English fluently and then a little French and very little italian

gem; who are your favorite tumblrs? I don’t have any “favorites” I just like tumblrs that post relatable and pretty things

giggles; what is your aesthetic of choice? Unicorn/fairy dust/pastel

glittery; do you like anons? why/why not? I wouldn’t mind them but I never get them haha

glow; list the top 5 things you like about yourself. My smile, my hair, my kindness to others, my work ethic and my abs (since I work pretty hard on them lol)

heart; silk or lace? Lace

honey; coffee or tea? how do you take it? Coffee with 1% milk

hugsy; do you enjoy people watching or bird watching more? why? People because you can make up life stories about them and create scenarios. Bird watching would be fun for a little while but boring after a half hour

hunnybunch; what sounds help you sleep? Fan

jewel; what’s your favorite kind of weather? Hot and sunny!

jiggly; what do you usually like to do on weekends? Have leisurely breakfasts on Saturday and Sunday morning, go to the city either Friday or Saturday and go on adventures, shopping, watch tv and relaxing

joy; do you laugh loudly or giggle more? Laugh out loud

kinky; do you blush easily? Nah not really

kisses; what romantic cliché do you wish for most? Grand gestures once in a while

kitty; what’s your favorite time of the day? Breakfast time

ladybug; what’s your favorite artist to listen to when you’re sad? I don’t really have an artist I have various songs by a lot of different people

love; what is your favorite season and why? Summer because I love the heat and being able to wear shorts and flip flops and not wearing 7 layers

lovey; what is your favorite flavor of macaron and ice cream? Macaron: I haven’t had too many but probably either chocolate or cotton candy. Ice cream: a mocha flavor with either brownie hits, Oreo pieces, or chocolate covered espresso beans

magic; what are five flaws you have? I can get mad easily, I’m not patient, I have ridiculous eating habits, I can be lazy and I have trouble communicating how I’m feeling

moonlight; do you prefer soft pastels, warm neutrals, or cool darks? Soft pastels

munchkin; what do you look for in your significant other? Humor, good looks, kindness, generosity, optimistic

paddywack; how would you describe a perfect date? It depends on the season! Hah

pebbles; how do you spend free time by yourself? On the internet, social media, playing with my puppy, working out, listening to music, watching tv.

precious; what is something valuable that you learned in your life? Always be kind and respectful because why not?

pretty; do you like to cook or bake more? Bake

prince; how would you describe your handwriting? Neat but after I’ve been writing for a while it turns into a print/script writing

princess; do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play? I can play the flute but I haven’t in a while

prinky; how do you relieve stress? Snuggle with my puppy

pumpkin; what is your favourite kind of fruit/vegetable? Raspberry/asparagus

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read? I have no clue

roses; what is the most significant event in your life so far? I really have no idea

smile; what is one thing that has greatly affected you? My gramma’s death

shine; art or music? Music

shimmer; do animals tend to like you? Yes

smitten; do you collect anything? Pins

smoochies; how many pillows do you sleep with? 1 tempur pedic type pillow then a small pillow on the side

snuggle; what is your favourite candy? Chocolate specifically dark

snuggly; do you have a camera? if so, what kind? I have the camera on my phone

sparkle; do you wear jewelry? Yes, rings, bracelets and earrings

spooky; sunrise or sunset? Sunset

sprinkles; do you like to listen to music with headphones or no headphones? No headphones

starlight; what was your favourite show as a child? As a young kid: Barney, as a teen: Lizzie McGuire/Hannah Montana

soft; describe your favourite spot in your house. Either my bed or the couch

soothe; digital or vinyl? Digital

squeezed; who do you miss right now? A few people

sugary; what traits do you value most in friends? Loyalty, kindness, humor

sunshine; do you prefer for things to be practical or aesthetically pleasing? It depends on the situation but usually practical

sweet; do you find it easy to open up? Depends on the person honestly

sweetie; do you like kids? if so, do you ever want to have any? I do like kids and I want them but I’m not ready yet

thimble; is there somebody you look up to? who are they? My old boss even tho I have lost touch with her

toot; what is something you find unique about yourself? How observant I am

tootsie; what kind of friend are you? Loving, generous, loyal

treasure; what was something that made you smile today? A student that said hi to me

velvet; are you an early bird or a night owl? Unfortunately an early bird

whiffle; if you could have a magical power, what would it be? Teleportation

whimsical; do you prefer doing stuff at home or going out? Depends but usually home especially in the winter when it’s freezing

whiskers; do you usually wear makeup? Nope

wiggly; are you a messy or tidy person? Mostly tidy

wispy; do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older? I do love the place I grew up and I’ve moved away and now I’m back, but I just can’t take the cold weather and how expensive it is to sustain yourself here

wobbly; have you ever wished upon a star? I think once

Source: luneve