#and looking up some pottery people online

[windowsandfeelings]

I took a nap earlier and had a very unsettling nightmare that one of my nicest vendors at work and a bunch of people I know by face from my pottery studio and the guy that played Brad on Gilmore Girls were trying to steal my organs via black magic and faeries??

[csuitebitches]

Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it

How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?

How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?

How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?

Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. 🤍

Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.

First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.

People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?

By knowing how to tell a story.

That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.

Experience 

People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry… experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.

Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.

Hobbies and interests 

Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 

There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 

Vulnerabilities 

Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 

However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 

Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 

And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 

Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality

Storytelling 

Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.

Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 

Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.

A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.

The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.

For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”

Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”

Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.

Vocabulary 

A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 

Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 

Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 

A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 

Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality

[castleofclouds]

Nct Dreams as your neighbors

In which you lived next door to dreamies, and your life as dreamies neighbor.

MARK

Mark is part of the frat line, so it's no wonder living next to him isn't the easiest, he would held couple of party every weekend so be sure to have plenty of earplugs in your house!

Mark is a part of a band, he love playing guitar in the middle of the day or making songs at night

He ALWAYS sends you late night drunk text and send so many praises about you and how you can handle living next to him for years even though he always loud and such

He is a good reminder and sometimes leaves a note in front of your door, something about always be happy and always taking care of your meals

He often times asked you to company him with hangovers meals that he bought or you bought

He loves greetings you every morning before going to his band meetings or class.

RENJUN

Renjun was obviously different than any neighbor you could think off, he is silent most of the times, sometimes you wonder if there's even someone lived next door

Renjun is a nocturnal, you never see him in the morning but he always bought something late at night every time you went to the store you always stumble upon him buying some tea or even some beer

He loves drawing, or pottery, any kind of art you could think off, you always surprise when you found a letter on your doorstep and found it to be a envelope of invitation to his art exhibits

He sometimes asked you simple favour like sugar and salts and leave with a cute drawing of you on your door step

The only time he would be loud was when his friends come you never knew Renjun could be so passionate about something sometimes

Renjun is simpler and easiest to lived with, and he always leaved a cute art pieces in front of your doorstep everytime he heard you cried from next door, one time he left you an origami made into a stars and put inside a jar on your doorstep with a little note saying “cheer up”.

JENO

Jeno loves waking up in the morning and always had different activities everyday that he even included you in, he sometimes asked you to go biking at 8 AM in the morning

Jeno loves working out you often hear a sound of a instructor telling about how to do some exercise

He love buying things online sometimes you could see a lot of package in front of his mailbox and doorstep

Due to his good looks and personalities he had many girls asking him around sometimes he even asked you to not giving those girls information that you lived next door to him

Jeno always find something fun to do he often includes you in his hobbies, and he is actually a pretty decent person the more you see him

He loved TALKING most people doesn't know that because he often prefer listen than talking but with you he loved telling you about his days both online or face to face, he sometimes left a bucket of flowers on your mailbox as a thanks to listening to him.

HAECHAN

Haechan is often mistaken, he loves talking a lot and some people would probably thinking he loved to host parties in his house turn out it wasn't always that, one day he can be calm but ofc there's a catch to it he would just ended up hang out with his friends at his apartment and it will be loud

Haechan love playing any kind of instrument sometimes, he sometimes played guitar in the middle of the night, and sometimes had a bicker or two with you after you asked him to tone it down

Haechan doesnt like to be told, so both of you often bicker one another, either him about how you always snitch on him to the landlord or you about his loud sound of gaming PC

Haechan could spend DAYS locked up in his house with no sunlight because he is busy playing games

On some days where he isn't being a dick, he loved to asked you out on a date. Yes. A date. Because he apparently love spending time with you and he often asked you out on food trip and trying many kind of food

He always send you some messages at weird time in the middle of the night with odd tmi about some stuff the you never even heard off.

JAEMIN

Jaemin is nothing but a princess, he showered you with love and understand you to the back of your bone

Jaemin loved cooking on some occasional day and he would always asked you to eat with him, he would always asked your opinion on his cooking and it's always a paradise

Jaemin loved praises you every time you go out, either about your make up, your outfit even little things like necklace or new earrings that you wore

Jaemin is romantic on many parts he loves sending you chocolate on valentines and cookies on christmas

He loved taking you on sightseeing and even asked you as his model on some of his photos, that he always send you every day and pick his favourite pick and would put it on his fridge and called it his favorite pic of the day

He loved showing you his cats and even go out his way and let you take care of them when he is busy with on his clinics, he often addressed you as “the mother of his cats”

CHENLE

To be having Chenle as your neighbor is a MANACE, that man is Evil, he always had so many loud noises coming from his house, it's probably because he is busy watching basketball tournament at fucking 2 am in the morning while you were asleep

It's not love. It's obsession that he has for basketball, he could names a every each of basketball player even if he held accountable

He make basketball as his personality at this point other than that, you always wondered if he had something wrong with his eyes due to his weird behavior of wearing glasses everywhere, like we get it man you want to look cool and such

The only time you actually like him was probably his daughter, daegal Is an angel compared to his dad, daegal is sweet and nothing but a puppy with wings on her back you could spend DAYS with daegal if Chenle allowed it

He often take you to his basketball match or just to watch him playing basketball, sometimes he looked cool sometimes he doesn't especially if he start saying some weird slang that you don't even know existed before he threw a ball

He just love talking and having fun, he loves socializing and sometimes take you to meet some of his friends and it was all good again.

JISUNG

Sometimes you wonder if you ever even gotten a neighbor or not because the neighbor next door only wake up at 1 am in the night and playing games that you didn't even knew he could

Despite that jisung are actually very popular in your campus and had plenty of attention from the girls but unfortunate for them the boy couldn't talk with them for SHITS, he is suck at it so much one time he just straight up running away from each of them

Weirdly he thinks you are actually fine, he could spend sometimes with you, and he didn't stutter or run away when you make eye contact with him

He had so many to take care off, he often asked you small favor like sugar and salt, or how he is so clumsy and often forget his keys that he just sometimes crashed at your house like it's his

He cannot cook for shits. And he knew it. And he had bigger anxiety to keep ordering them online so sometimes you just asked him to eat with you in your house

He often asked you to match with him on games and always act like he is a pro player and often said “don't worry I won't let them hurt you” that you just cringe and laugh into.

A/N

Hi!! Cassie hereee, wow it's feels good to finally write something at least, I tried to make this into those fake chat scenario but my tab are such a hassle to get worked into so I just give up😞 anyway what do we sayy?? do we finally feel more energetic and start writing more, and I'm kinda short on ideas my head is drier than desert anyway have fun!

Masterlist.

[plague-of-insomnia]

Is Sebastian a Narcissist?

Recently, I came across a series of old posts translating some things from Yana’s now lost blog, in which she did an exercise to draw 30 different facial expressions for Sebastian.

The “shy” one particularly caught my eye because the translation describes Sebastian as “ultra narcissistic” and therefore he can’t really be shy.

[begin screenshot]

[end screenshot]

Now Yana does indeed use the word “narcissist” here (“narushisuto”), but keep in mind that loan words often have slightly different meanings/connotations in Japanese than they do in their original source language.

I do not have a loan word dictionary handy unfortunately, but I did do some investigating in one of my fave online Japanese-language dictionaries (it basically lets you see definitions from various sources at once).

The top definition describes a narcissist as someone who is so in love with themselves they’re “drunk” off of it.

The definition does not use the exact term, but there is a phrase in Japanese that essentially has this meaning. It’s a kind of phrase called “yojijukugo,” and these are always made up of four kanji.

In this case, they are 自己陶酔, which literally means “oneself, self, pottery, drunk,” or less literally, self-intoxication. In other words, extreme vanity.

Additionally, the words weblio includes as synonyms mean things like “pretentious,” “conceited,” acting “full of oneself.” It has a negative connotation and is probably intended as the opposite of the Japanese cultural ideal of the group before the individual.

Put this together with how Yana explains that it’s difficult/impossible to flatter him because he’s such a “narcissist,” and I think we have to assume that Yana isn’t meaning it the way we might here in the West when we use that word. Instead, I think what she means is that Sebastian is self absorbed and overly-vain, which makes sense based on what we’ve seen of him in the manga.

Now, ofc we can use narcissist in a similar way in English, as dictionary.com says:

[begin screen shot]

[end sceeen shot]

But, often it has more of an association with the second one, and I think we definitely need to steer clear of that connotation when we look at Yana’s intent. (As far as I could see, that word is not used for the disorder in Japanese, but as I am not an expert on medical Japanese I could definitely be wrong, there.)

Nevertheless, I think we can all agree that Sebastian is vain and self absorbed, though I do think he’s changed significantly over the four years he’s been working with Ciel, and it will be interesting to see if he overcomes this “flaw” before the manga ends.

(I personally don’t feel you can apply a disorder to a nonhuman like Sebastian, but that is not really the point of this post and I would prefer not to get into discourse. I am not trying to say people with NPD are demonic or anything like that. Simply analyzing what Yana said and what that might mean.)

[cleolinda]

"Strength (Bell Donner Gives Her Word)"

I posted this short story on LJ back in 2007, and I said I'd repost it here for Halloween. I did an audio reading 15 (!) years ago that I'd like to redo in better quality in the near future; I'm also curious to see what it would sound like now that I'm the age I imagined the main character to be. This version is lightly revised, but the story is mostly the same.

That fall a number of people in Chesterville were mauled to death by some kind of wild dog or coyote—the kind that apparently wasn’t too afraid to go right up to people as they took out their trash at night, or let their own tame, domestic dog out not too long after dawn. But it was a small town out in the sticks, verging on farm territory: quiet. Not like a wild animal was marauding up and down Times Square or anything. Not like it was in plain view. So people just started being more careful—not venturing out alone until midday, or not venturing out at all without a loaded shotgun—and things were all right for a while. Then, in late October, the animal came back, and this time, someone survived.

An old lady by the name of Edna Mayhew—well, yes, she lost her arm from the elbow down, but she came out of it a damn sight better than any of those who’d come before her. And she said that it was a wolf, definitely a wolf, but it had come at her on two legs, and when she had smacked it in the face with a veiny little fist, it had held her down with two arms and bitten her forearm clean off. The only thing that saved her, she declared, was her neighbor Bill “Thursday” Thurston, who had heard her screaming and come out with both barrels blazing. He claimed that the thing he saw ran away on four legs, but that it was, in fact, Goddamn Huge. This was about the time that that new photo of Bigfoot lumbering around on all fours came out, which several professors and scientists swore up and down was just a bear with mange. Eddie at the Red Brick printed out the picture and taped it up by the bar, and the next time Thursday came in for a beer, he said, yeah, the thing he chased off Miz Mayhew kinda looked like that. Maybe it was a wolf with mange. Mange was a terrible thing, after all. He’d managed to hit it with at least one shot, though, so he didn’t think it’d trouble people too much after that.

So, going into November, that was where things stood. Whatever it was, it had mange, and it had probably gone off and died quiet somewhere. Bell Donner wasn’t terribly worried about it when she went outside one morning to get more wood for her kiln. She threw artisan pottery out on a little farm a few miles to the west of Chesterville anyway; every week or so, she’d go into town for groceries, mail out her online orders, maybe stop at the Brick for a burger and a drink, and hear what was to be heard. She had little to tell about herself, but folks like to tell their stories, and she knew Miz Mayhew from the post office. She learned that people were keeping their guns out, their doors locked, and their pets inside; she heard the recitation of tales. But whatever the thing that Bill Thurston shot had been, it and its mange were not likely to bother Bell. Or so she thought, until that morning when she was piling kindling into the crook of her arm, looked up, and saw it standing at the edge of the yard.

It didn’t have a human face, but it was standing—on two long, lanky legs that curved back into hocks like a dog’s. One—arm?—was held close to its belly. Probably protecting wherever Thursday shot it, thought Bell, her brains feeling thick and logy. That was the best reaction she could dredge up: Yeah, six-foot man-shaped wolf thing hunched over in my yard, probably not feeling too good right now. It didn’t have a human face, but it did have a very human expression—desperate, she thought, and cranky. Maybe resentful, even. And hungry.

Bell put down her armful of kindling and picked the axe back up.

The thing staggered forward a step or two. It was still a good twenty feet away.

“Go on, now,” she said. “Get. Ain’t nothin’ here you want.”

The thing gazed at her, its eyes watching the axe; it almost seemed to—calculate? She’d seen it, after all, and it was hungry. A human murderer wouldn’t have let her live, and this wasn’t even human.

Bell hardened her voice and rode over a quaver like it was a speedbump: “Go on now. I won’t tell nobody if you just go.” It was on the tip of her tongue to offer it some food—she had a pot roast from the other night, and she was still knee-deep in leftovers—and then she thought, You dumbass, you feed it once and you’ll never get rid of it. “G’on now,” she said, her hands tight on the axe handle. “Just get. You got my word. I won’t tell nobody.”

It was still standing there, reckoning. And then it stepped back, making a tactical withdrawal into the brush at the back of the yard. She saw it drop back down on four legs and lope away awkwardly towards the thicket out behind the farm, a scrubby bit of forest that led into some of the foothills. Probably some good caves in there, she thought. The wolf-thing wasn’t the only one out there who could calculate. And when the attacks started in Chesterville again, and then moved a bit north—northeast of Bell’s farm, and then back down to Chesterville, and then southeast of her farm, and then back to town again—she knew it was being careful. It knows better than to shit where it eats, she thought to herself. Or eat where it slept, more precisely, but the saying held the same. There were some people at the sheriff’s office who probably would have given a lot to know about a thicket in the foothills west of Chesterville, particularly since Edna Mayhew was still the only survivor. But Bell Donner had given her word; she valued her word almost as much as she valued her life, and they were pretty much the same thing in this case, she decided. After all, it’s one thing to know where something lives. It’s another when something knows where you live, and a deal was a deal where Bell Donner came from.

[sparkagrace]

seize the clay | @sparkagrace steve x bucky | t | 1.1k words

tags: pre-serum Steve, beefy Bucky, pottery, tiktok, modern au, social media fills: @allcapsbingo | card AC1006 | march adoptable: social media

Steve has a tiktok series called Steve Skills Up where he duets with other creators and tries to learn new skills. One day he finds himself tagged in someone's video asking him to duet with a new viral creator. Bucky Barnes is a potter who posts videos of him making various bowls and cups. Oh, and he does this shirtless...

Steve didn’t intend to become a content creator. He was just bored and downloaded tikok after Clint kept sending him videos of dogs being reunited with their owners and cats becoming friends with ducks. The intention was to only use the godforsaken app whenever he was sent a video, but then the thing got interesting and he was being shown videos of dubious cleaning hacks (it did force him to do some of the deep cleaning he’d been putting off forever), cooking inspiration (he was able to impress his friends at the last potluck with his sugar cookies), and a few prank videos that was absolutely 100% scripted (but he still watched every single one).

All this is to say, somehow he started scrolling and ended up on various art pages, which were actually interesting and gave him a lot of inspiration to pick up his sketchpads and paints again. He started off slowly: filmed timelapses of his painting, showed how he went from sketch to canvas, talked a little bit about why he prefers oil painting to watercolors. All of that was fun and he had a very small following.

Until he decided he wanted to learn more art mediums and styles because thinking about what to paint was hard and sometimes he just wasn’t feeling it. So then he started a series called Steve Skills Up, where he dueted with other creators and tried to replicate what they were doing: knitting, cross-stitching, sculpture, splatter painting (that one was messy but fun). Usually doing it wrong but eventually working it out. That series started to get popular and then he started getting people tagging him in videos and begging him to ‘Skill Up’. It’s fun, but it’s hard work. He finds that some of it is frustrating and there are just some days he doesn’t feel like getting in front of a camera, especially when his asthma acts up or after a full day of working. Unfortunately his online fame hasn’t meant that he can give up his day job.

One day he wakes up to hundreds of mentions. He sleepily looks at his phone to find out what people want him to do now. It’s a video that has racked up almost a million views and the username is @BuckysBowls. The guy in the video is sitting in front of a kiln in between his legs – shirtless – and there’s Ginuwine’s Pony playing in the background. The guy on screen is extremely hot: practically all abs and toned biceps. He definitely knows what he’s doing when he oh so innocently drops the mound of clay into the wheel, wets his hands and begins manhandling it; the slapping sounds sending something strange down Steve’s spine. Steve cannot stop watching. He’s completely entranced by the way the wheel spins so quickly yet this guy – Bucky – is able to keep such control over the clay, seemingly allowing it to do what it wants but also bending to his will.

Bucky’s hands wrap around the clay as it moulds to whatever shape he needs it to, presses his fingers gently but steadily through the wet body as it continuously spins and forming a hole that gradually widens evenly. Both his hands remain steady and covered with clay as he draws up gently to lengthen the sides. And as he does, he shoots looks to the camera, smirks and gets back to work. Sometimes his face can’t even be seen, and Steve wants to reach into the screen to lift up his chin so he can look into his eyes. Steve thinks he might be drooling. The work is so precise and yet Bucky seems to be doing it so casually, as if he woke up that morning and was like “sure, I’ll make a bowl”. He may well have because Bucky’s hair is rumpled and there’s little bits of clay in it from where he’s pushed back his hair. Even from the phone, Steve can see where parts of his bare skin have specks of clay water as he works.

He has to watch the same video four times at least because he finds himself too distracted and missing parts of the bowl progress by getting too caught up with Bucky’s eyes and general being. Then he scrolls and watches video after video of Bucky making cups and vases and jugs and even more bowls. Every single time that his fingers press into the clay, Steve thinks he's going to pass out. Steve clicks through to his profile and sees the address to his store in Brooklyn – Seize The Clay – just twenty minutes away from Steve's apartment. This got much harder.

Despite him spending at least two hours lying in bed and watching Bucky’s tiktoks, he doesn’t respond to any of the requests aside from liking a couple. Steve doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get the materials for this first of all because he knows it’s expensive to get kilns and he lives in a small apartment. He has no idea where he’d even put one unless he found a pottery place that would let him film in there. Not only that, he has no idea how he’s supposed to even follow along without blushing because Steve is already unable to look at Bucky directly on a recording. He just doesn’t know where to start so he just presses 'follow' and puts a pin in it.

Over the next few days, the tags keep coming and his algorithm shows him Bucky's videos constantly. People are desperate for Steve to replicate what they’re seeing Bucky do. People even want him to do it shirtless, which is it’s own set of problems with the prominent scar down his torso from heart surgery as a kid. Besides, in a duet next to Bucky, Steve is going to look even weedier. Urgh.

BuckysBowls: hey! i keep seeing ur name tagged in my comments so i checked out ur videos. they’re pretty cool! SteveGR: thnx. i’m sorry about the comments. i really like your videos too. so impressive

They go back and forth, talking about creating content, their backgrounds, Brooklyn, how weird it is to go viral.

And then...

BuckysBowls: so when are you gonna duet a vid? no pressure but i assume it’s on the list? SteveGR: uhhh maybe a bit too skilled rn. beyond my wheelhouse haha BuckysBowls: if u need any help getting started lmk SteveGR: well, unless u know how i can get a kiln into my apartment… BuckysBowls: come to the store? SteveGR: i work fulltime and i don’t get many pto days BuckysBowls: steve quit making excuses. i’ve seen your art and ur series. i know u can do this. give the people what they want! 💪 SteveGR: i wouldn’t even know where to start 🙈 BuckysBowls: i give private lessons after hours. the first one is always free…

After that, Steve doesn’t really have a choice.

notes: this is totally inspired by the many, many, many videos of guys doing pottery shirtless that somehow found their way to my fyp. Shout out to the accounts: potteryboy, stonemeetsclay, and lowham_ceramics who were all incredible Bucky inspo ✌️

[eggcompany]

Castiel The Hottest Oddest Duck Part 1

Castiel hated when loud people came into the museum. However when two women come in and give him a card to some club called the Crossroads maybe they're worth it...

Crossroads. A sex club. With an online catalog. And one man covered in silk and lace catches his eyes and he just knows he has to go see him... the princess. AKA Dean Winchester who hadn't taken a date in... YEARS. But maybe it's just the best stroke of luck.

“OMG they should get one of these at Meg’s” 

“Oh totally, wouldn't The Puppy look so cute on that? Ooo or Killa!” 

Castiel Novak hated loud people in the museum. He just wanted to clean and keep an eye on the exhibits. Sure he also loved answering questions from the field trip kids and chatting with artists who liked to sit in the large monument hall and sketch but he absolutely hated loud people walking around nearly yelling at each other and cackling loudly. 

However in the last week it seemed impossible to get away from since they put up their loaner exhibit on sex through history. 

As the two women continued to speak loudly and cackle like upset hens, Cas walked up near them and cleared his throat. They turned around and waved their hands in an ‘ excuse us’ kind of way. 

“Oh sorry we’re just so excited about this exhibit. We're members of the Red Crossroads and this stuff is pretty interesting, totally up our alley!" One of the women said with a large grin. 

"Oh.. okay, It's on loan from another museum. We're pairing this and the pride exhibit. They'll both be open by June first." Castiel informed them. If they were just overly excited he understood. He’d just about talked his brother’s ear off when they had their exhibit on beekeeping. 

"We should come back then! And we can bring Meg or Dean! Dean would love this shit.” Said one of the women to the other who nodded. 

“Ooh, are there going to be more crossdressing exhibits or anything like that? That would be amazing” asked the second woman. Castiel nodded after a moment of thinking. He’d just been looking at the catalog of incoming exhibit pieces. There were many pieces of Transgender History and Drag Culture, which in a crude way could be interpretted as ‘crossdressing’. 

“We're going to have a large section over drag culture across the world later this month where the pottery currently is.” Castiel informed them which incited big smiles. 

“Fantastic! We’re so coming back! Thank you so much, you’re a doll… Castiel! We’ll see you again in a few weeks and ya know if you ever feel like a good time come swing by the Crossroads.” Said the women who handed him a small black card and walked on their way toward another exhibit while texting on their phones. 

Good time? What’s that even mean? Castiel was curious about the card which simply had in plain print

‘Red Crossroads- Bar and lifestyle club- All Welcome’ and a phone number. 

Red Crossroads…. 

Bar and lifestyle club. 

Lifestyle club. 

….

Sex club. 

It was a sex club. 

Cas was taken aback as he stared down at his laptop screen. He didn’t know there were those! He thought there were only street workers and online escorts. Both of which made him nervous as a man seeking another man who wasn’t underaged or had any… afflictions. 

Catalog listings of services came to view first, Cas had never thought to go through and think if he liked something or not. 

Spanking? No he didn’t like hitting even if it was for fun.

Bondage?… Perhaps it would provide compression and comfort. Cas often found certain amounts of restraint like weighted blankets and sleep sacks very comforting so bondage is on the table for that. However it could be scary if he got too overwhelmed and couldn’t get away. 

Pet Play? Cas didn’t like the idea of having to care for something living and he definitely wasn’t very good at “pretending”. 

Sex Toys?... That made Cas glance over at his bedside table. Here his lube and condoms and small bullet vibrator lived. His brother had bought it for him as a joke since it was called an "Angel" and was sparkly gold in color. Cas didn't get the joke until years later, and then still he quite enjoyed the small toy pressed against his skin. He only ever put the very tip inside since it was always sort of… scary. Overwhelming and made him feel very lonely. 

Crossdressing/Gendered Play… That’s what got Cas’s heart tapping against his ribs cage.

Men had always been Cas’s favorite. Even when asked when he was very small in the church, he had always known he loved boys. That was what had been the catalyst of his parents getting him tested for autism in the first place. They knew he was ‘wrong’... Oh well whatever they’re in the nursing home now and Castiel doesn’t need the inheritance. 

Plus Gabriel liked boys too. Somewhat. ‘Pansexual’. At least sort of liked boys. So Cas wasn’t alone. 

Cas liked just men. 

They were simple and understandable during sex. Touch penis, kissing, they cum, snuggles until morning. Easy. 

Easy was usually best and best to understand. Simple and straightforward was best. 

But oh... pretty things in pretty packaging were even better. No one would turn down a nicely wrapped gift. Especially when that gift was a hard cock wrapped in soft lace. 

It had been a rabbit hole on his laptop one night. The road from " I don't really like girl bodies" t o " I really like girl's lingerie" was a short one. Cas didn't quite like all the complexity or the look of a woman, femininity in a femine shape was… yucky in his mind. He didn't like breasts either.

The road from " Boy bodies are pretty " to " Boys in girl's clothes are very pretty " was a long and winding one. 

He'd looked through everything from "petite" to "pegging" to "twink" and finally ended up in "crossdressing". It seemed endless of boys wearing frilly pinks with their cocks barely contained. 

Cas was never good with people and he was even worse with sex. He'd had sex in college, sure. A girl who got him drunk and said he was cute had had sex with him in his shitty dorm room and told him he had a big dick and left before morning. 

He'd had sex with a very handsome man who smelled like chalk and had smooth soft skin and a thing for virgins. He was nice and cuddled until they showered together in the morning. He was nice but Cas wanted more. 

Cas wanted snuggles all the time and hugs and holding hands and dates and all the in the movies kind of stuff. Sex was nice but love was what he wanted. 

Gabriel told him saying “I love you” was a bigger deal than how Cas was used to using it. And that saying it to someone you just met, or while your ankles are to your ears, is not the right time to say it. 

It was easy to click on the crossdressing section on the catalog for the Red Crossroads. Suddenly there were lines of profiles. Mostly very young boys wearing strappy dark attire. 

Not Cas's type. Sure they were cute and hot but he wasn't really into younger guys. When he himself was younger he was into ‘older’ men. Now he just liked men his own age. 

He scrolled, endlessly. Glancing from image to image. From young cute faces caked in makeup to bodies laying ass up exposing their tender places. 

It was a doom scroll of searching for someone. 

It was sort of draining in a way that it made Cas start questioning what was he doing, why was he scrolling around on a catalog of men, why was there a catalog of men, why was he even looking at a sex club when he could never- 

Then there he was. Neck down, sun tanned skin, wide shoulders, bulging biceps, tight abs, rosy pink nipples, fuzzy blonde-brown hair coating his strong thighs and making a soft little treasure trail from his belly down under the candy pink panties he was wearing. He had on a matching lacey ribbon harness on his chest that exposed the wide expanse of it. 

" Princess of the Crossroads, tall, strong, handsome, and loves his lace. Loves getting all dolled up and giving anyone a good ride. Is open to kissing, cuddling, and anything in between! Come show our princess some love, Friday-Sunday, or scheduled appointment"

"Princess... Wow..." Cas whispered and instantly knew he had to go find him. 

He also realized he needed to do A LOT of research. 

-0-0-0-0-

This was stupid. 

Stupid to even walk through the backdoor of the bar. 

Stupid to walk around trying to find the beautiful strong body he'd seen online. Walking around looking at the heads of dark blonde hair, looking at bodies covered in thick muscle and freckles, it was all so… embarrassing . 

It was an hour of him walking around awkwardly trying not to stare at the people who were activly having sex. He'd watched the pole dancers for a while marveling at their strength and grace. He was absolutely taken by one of them who was dressed in a long pink sheer robe lined with fuzzy white stuff that Cas very much wanted to put on his face and had to yank his hands back a few times from where they had absently shifted up to sit on the very edge of the stage. 

He'd made his way to the second bar that was in the back corner of the main room. He'd flumped down on one of the cushiony red bar stools and a blonde woman walked over to him. 

"Sad face for a sex club, what's wrong my man?" She asked and Cas sighed and traced a triangle on the shiny counter. It had been a failed attempt at having sex. It was a failed attempt at getting fucked and snuggled. 

"Couldn't find who I was looking for. Can I have whiskey? I don't drink usually but I need something." Cas explained and the woman glanced over at the other bartender, a dirty blonde headed man with a sparkly smile wearing a black t-shirt and some black jeans. He had on an apron with the crossroads logo on it and was pouring out drinks for two men, laughing and chatting. 

He was a very good looking man, tall, strong, handsome. Masculinity in the purest form. Probably smells like sweat and spilled alcohol. 

"I'll get you the good stuff in a second. Who were you looking for anyway? Most of our best are here." She asked while looking around the room and Cas nodded. 

"Yeah I looked around for a while, the dancers are pretty amazing. I looked on your website but the guy I wanted isn't on the floor and his face wasn't in the profile." Cas said sadly as the woman poured him some whiskey. She hummed and thought for a moment. 

"Any chance it's the princess?" She asked with a smile. Cas choked on his drink nodding. After coughing for a moment he recovered and shook his head yes vigorously. 

"Yes, yes, that's who it is. Do they not work here anymore?" He asked with big wide eyes and she smirked. An almost knowing smile spread across her face, she glanced over at the other bartender. 

"He's here. How about you go wait for him and I'll have him meet you in his room. It's up the stairs and wait for him in the room with the golden crown on it. It'll be to the left. Just sit there, it might be a long wait." She explained kindly and Cas was smiling widely. He was so excited to be able to finally touch and have something he really really wanted. It was like being told there was a gift of a million lives waiting for him just up some stairs. 

"Oh that doesn't matter! I'll wait for however long! I'm so excited." Cas said in a giddy voice and slapped down a large bill and walked quickly to the spiral stairs he'd seen a few people walk up. 

The woman giggled and Cas was off. 

Maybe it wasn’t so stupid. 

-0-0-0-0-

Cas was happy to sit and wait in the lovely carpeted room. The walls were a lovely rich dark color that was just nearly black was tinted with a pink, the floors were low pile and very very soft, new feeling, dark grey heathered with black, there was a sturdy looking black desk that looked more in use than a staged object that had a lamp and a cozy looking arm chair behind it. There was a large dark stained wood four poster bed in the center of the room, king size, thick and plush, having black drawers along the underside of it on the floor, and it was covered in a plush patterned black comforter set with several pillows in matching cases piled neatly at the head.

There were two doors, other than the one that Cas had walked through and one on the wall behind the bed. Both were painted black with golden door knobs. Cas could see the light on underneath one of them and had an itch in the back of his mind to just go and flick the light off but this wasn’t his room and it wasn’t his place to go opening doors. He’d gotten in trouble about things like that before so he just ignored the light and stared at the floor from the cushy pink tub chair that he was sitting in by the door. 

Castiel was giddy . Overly excited about getting to have sex. 

Sex . 

Such a rare yearning in Cas’s life. He had to really concentrate to think of the last time he wanted to have sex with someone… Years ago probably. Beach trip with his family, he was sitting under the umbrella reading a fantasy novel about knights and princesses, a semi dirty novel that he hid with a false dust cover, he glanced up on the look out for his parent’s return, a big burly man was walking up out of the water, huge chest bouncing slightly under the thick cover of dark hair that connected over his belly to widen back on it’s way under his tiny tight shorts. Cas remembered feeling absolutely dizzy before his sister wacked him in the head and called him a slur. 

Just as Cas got a creeping nauseous feeling in his belly he heard some noise behind him. 

"I haven't actually been booked for a while so I don't have everything for the full ‘experience’ but if you still wanna- I’m very willing" Said a rumbling voice and Cas turned to see the source. 

Then he couldn't breathe. 

And he couldn't move. 

And he felt very very warm. 

Cas was standing, panting, clenching his hands at his sides. 

"God..." Cas whispered as he stared unashamed at the man's perfect face. 

He was standing in the middle of the room wearing a pair of thigh high cotton socks in a crisp white color, a flowy green silk slip to cover the rest of him. He had on a light perfume that smelled like vanilla, mascara that only made his long eyelashes look even longer, and some soft pinky nude lipstick. Around the slip’s thin straps Cas could see another set of straps, shiny like ribbon, in a dark nearly black green. 

He smiled and bit his bottom lip, straight teeth a pearly white. 

"Enjoying the view" He said in his practiced sultry voice, deep and rumbling like tires on a gravel road. 

"I've never seen anything more beautiful. Person, object, or otherwise." Cas said from his very soul. He was shocked like he was seeing a true angel a few feet in front of him, his feet were both glued to their spot on the carpet and weighed nothing at all as he took a few steps closer. 

The statement made Dean jump back and look a little shy. The brunette chuckled and looked around the room for a moment, hands fidgeting together. 

"Oh thanks. Haven't heard that one in a while. I'm Dean, but you can call me whatever you'd like." Dean said and moved a stray hair back into where it should be, spike having flopped down to his forehead. 

Cas watched his hand move and then felt as if he had fallen back into his body from floating somewhere far away in space. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe and that he had to rip his hair out. Dean was so perfect, so amazing, so beautiful, and wanted Castiel in such an intimate way and Cas hadn’t been very intimate in so so long and and - words tumbled out of his mouth. 

"I'm Castiel Novak. I've never been here before,I have autism, I'm gonna hyperventilate." Castiel said as he started to take shorter and shorter breaths, head getting light and dizzy. 

"Okay, alright, big one in, big out." Dean coached him through with a hand on his shoulder until Castiel was breathing normally. Cas was bent over a little bit and Dean was rubbing his back, hand warm like a wood fire. 

When Castiel stood back up they were so close, so near. The slightly shorter man looked so dazed Dean feared he might pass out. He’d seen people pass out before, not any autistic people he knew about but then again it wasn’t his business. 

“You smell very good and look very pretty” Castiel breathed out very deadpan and monotone, he was still trying to calm down his racing heart. 

Dean thought his eyes were glittering, it was odd. He’d spotted Castiel wandering around and had listened to him at the bar. He was 1. Hot as fuck, 2. Had a voice that already sounded like he’d been throat fucked, and 3. Had the most gorgeous eyes and honest look Dean had ever seen working at the Crossroads. Castiel Novak was 100% Dean’s type, plus he was a sweet man. 

"You're one odd duck, Cas. 's cute." Dean said and leaned in until there was just an inch between them. He cocked his head and stared down at Cas’s plump pretty pink lips. The dark haired man swallowed and let out a shaky breath. 

"I'd like to kiss you. I'd really like to kiss you." Cas whispered and oh Dean had really soft lips…

It was so easy to let Cas kiss him. 

Terribly. 

Castiel was a terrible kisser. All unpracticed and clumsy and stiff all at the same time. 

Dean hummed and let Cas explore though, his lips trembled a bit but soon he was confident in his tight presses, letting his eyes slide shut. 

Dean let one hand tilt and guide Cas’s head to angle over, he let his own lips part first and coax Cas’s open, and he was patient when Cas pulled away from his tongue the first time with a confused noise. He grinned a bit at the adorable confused look on Cas’s face. No way should a middle aged man be able to look so fuckin’ cute…

“C’mon, you’re doin it right” Dean whispered and Cas leaned back in after a glance at Dean’s perfect green eyes. 

Soon their tongues tangled, Dean’s hands coming to cradle Cas’s jaw and one sitting on his sharp hip bone. Castiel however had his hands down at his sides, clenching and relaxing with the rhythm of their kisses. Dean thought it was cute, something about this scruffy man just radiated something so… cute and fragile. 

Something to be cherished. 

Something that just screamed that he was either going to be utterly terrible in the shack or so, so fucking good. 

"May I touch you?" Cas panted out his eyes filled with a sort of frantic look. Something like a tornado in a jar. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest, in a fun way not like when he has anxiety attacks. His cock was throbbing in his slacks and he felt so… on fire with lust . 

"Course you can. Here, there we go." Dean said in a deep rumbling tone and guided Cas's wrists so his hands were on Dean’s silk covered hips. He leaned in to catch the other man’s lips again but Cas was looking away. 

Cas gasped and looked down, astonished as he squeezed the muscle all along Dean’s hips, sides, all the way to his bulging shoulders. Castiel breathed in quickly, finally letting out the breath he had been holding. 

"You're so... solid. Strong. Muscular." Cas said in awe and let his hands wonder and press into different places on Dean’s silk covered body. His muscular biceps, his forearms, his shoulders, and down his back. The fabric of the slip was so smooth and buttery and Dean’s body was so  warm and felt so alive under Cas’s hands. 

"Mhm, you're not too soft yourself." Dean said let his own hands start pushing and feeling up the other man. Cas was fucking hot and it was unfair. Sharp hip bones in his black slacks, solid stomach, strong arms, and a big cock that was bulging in his slacks. Not only that but he had thick, plush looking thighs, his hands were heavy and strong where they grasped and groped and petting at Dean’s back, and when Dean leaned back to steal some more dirty tongue filled kisses and placed his hands on the dark haired man’s chest it was soft yet had a layer of buff muscle underneath. 

A very attractive, awkward man. 

Definitely the most enthusiastic man he’d had if the way he kissed was anything to go by. 

Cas kissed like he’d never get another one, pulling on Dean’s shoulders as if to get even closer, even once their chests were pressed together. 

He let out quiet, needy noises. Dean felt like his heart squeezed each little whimper and tiny hiccupped begging noise. Gorgeous noises, pretty noises. 

“Pretty” Dean whispered as he pulled away and kissed down Cas’s neck, letting his hands slide down from Cas’s waist to slip inside his back pockets. Cas gasped and let his hips buck forward. 

“You th- think ‘m pretty?” Cas asked in an almost drunk way as Dean nibbled and licked down the side of his neck. His mind was fuzzy, like his brain had melted and floated away. Dean was perfect, warm, welcoming, kind, understanding, and so so pretty and nice and god . 

“Real pretty, you think I’m pretty?” Dean assured and asked and started working on unbuttoning the offensive white shirt that hid away the other man’s burning body. 

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty, I wanna be pretty like you.” Cas explained, saying the last part quietly as Dean unbuckled and unzipped his pants. Cas looked like he had already been torn apart. Hair a mess, lips red and smeared with the pale lipstick and swollen a bit, cheeks blushing darkly, eyes brimmed with tears. It was debauched, it was right outta a porno, it made Dean feel like his dick was gonna explode. 

“Yeah? Wanna see more? I wanna see more of you.” Dean pushed the shirt off Castiel’s shoulders and roughly pulled his slacks down to his thighs. 

Cas leaned down and pushed his pants down  and off, kicking his shoes off on the way. 

“Do I need to take my socks off?” Castiel asked as Dean sat back on the bed, letting his legs spread and his slip ride up to pool around his hips, satin panties barely containing his red hot erection, small mark of precum darkening the slick fabric. 

He was staring. Taking in miles of supple pale flesh, bare nearly hairless skin. Thick strong runners thighs, and a perfect cock. God it was big. Thick, swinging, rosy and darker at the tip like it was begging to be sucked. How he was like a living statue. 

“Dean? Is- do I have to be naked for the sex? I rather like my so-“ Cas explained and Dean pulled him down by his shoulders to lay on his back. With a bit of a huff Dean swung himself to straddle the other man. Cas’s cock rubbed against him through his satin panties. 

“Keep the socks on, I don’t care, just lemme-” Dean said as he leaned down to snatch up Cas’s lips again, rolling his hips forward, grinding down. 

“But Dean… I don’t wanna do this. I- I got ready…” Cas said and tears started to flow down his face. He sniffled and put his hands up to push at Dean’s chest. Dean immediately pulled himself off to sit beside the other man, shushing him calmingly. 

“Hey, it’s alright, man. Breathe, Cassy. What ‘cha mean? What ‘cha wanna do?” Dean asked and let his fingers comb through the surprisingly feathery soft hair  around the other man’s ear. 

“I- I- look” Cas stuttered and then gave up trying to explain. He laid back, spread his legs and there it was. A small silver plug covering his hole. He’d went out and bought it while planning. That and an actual dildo so he could practice and make sure he was stretched out enough so they wouldn't have to prep. He was hoping it wasn’t ugly… Dean was so so so pretty and and… Dean was just staring at it. 

Dean couldn’t breathe. He even got to fuck this beautiful, sensitive, amazing man? 

Best. Date. Ever.

-0-0-0-0-

“I wanna be pretty! God, please, Dean, I wanna be so pretty!” Castiel begged as Dean’s lace clad chest rubbed up and down his back with each hard rolling thrust. 

He was gripping the pillow in front of him, his elbows and knees holding him up. He couldn’t even see anymore between the tears flooding from his eyes and the pleasure that was making him feel like he was nothing but a puddle. Each time Dean rolled his hips forward Cas could feel his own cockhead drag along the sheets where it hung between his trembling thighs. 

Dean bent down, one hand holding him up and the other going to hold onto the sharp point of Cas’s hip, to bite at his meaty shoulder. 

“You’re pretty Cassy, real fuckin’ pretty.” Dean growled as he let his hips snap sharpy into the hot tight hold of Cas’s body. Loving the way Cas moaned out like some pornstar, loving the way his hands clenched up and his back arched more and more. 

“No! I wanna be pretty like y-ouh-ou, wanna-ah!- wear pretty things, wanna uh be so pretty” Cas blabbered as Dean kept slowly speeding up, hips starting to slap against the plush pale cushion of Cas’s ass. Cas could feel his collarbones starting to press into the bed and his body curving down. Dean’s hand running along the dip of his waist before pulling him back up into a thrust by his hip. 

“Yeah? Wanna wear a, fuck, a pretty dress?” Dean asked as he reached over and grabbed his slip from where he’d thrown it off after Cas had rolled over and pulled himself apart. Lust had burned him up as he had rushed to pull a condom on. 

“Yes, yes, wanna wear a pretty skirt and and wanna wear makeup and wanna wanna wear heels, wanna be such a pretty whore!” Cas sobbed out as Dean pulled away to kneel up behind him, cock lodged deep inside Cas’s trembling body. He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and pulled him up to kneel too. The black haired man yelled out and curled over himself but Dean kept him up with a hand on his belly. 

“I don’t believe that Cassy. You don’t wanna get dressed up like a whore and be a slut. You wanna be a bride, an angel, you’re just a pretty princess.” Dean whispered harshly into the other’s ear as he dragged the silk slip down over Cas’s arms, down so it grazed the base of his heavy cock. 

“C'mon pretty, arms… god that’s pretty ain't it…” Dean growled into Cas’s ear as he drug his arms through so the dress fit him properly. Cas’s strong back made the silk fall in a beautiful way down him, the lacey hems floated right above were they connected. 

“‘M gunna cum” Cas said in a drunk, dizzy way. His cock twitched which only caused the lace trim to tickle him more which only caused him to twitch again. His body felt light, warm, perfect. He let his head loll back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. His breaths came out in short huffs, grazing Dean’s jaw. 

Dean smiled to himself and let his hands hold onto the other man as his hips snapped back into action, slamming into Cas’s welcoming body. Cas let out long wanton moans, hand barely gripping himself, too lost in the pleasure Dean was supplying. 

-0-0-0-0-

“Can you- Can I- Do we have to move? Do I have to leave now?” Cas asked as he caught his breath and his brain became unscrambled. Dean was tying off the condom and dropping it into the trash. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve got keys to the back door if we stay past closing. I could sleep.” Dean replied as he pulled the bralette off and dropped it onto the desk on his way to the door he’d walked out of. 

He opened the door and turned on a light, from where Cas could peek in; it looked like a bathroom. There was a sink and tile. Cas just laid on the bed, his bum was a bit sticky which he hated but the slippery silk fabric of the slip felt so… amazing. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Can I stay here? Like this?” Cas asked a bit loudly, not even daring to move an inch. Dean popped back out, now wearing a pair of boxer briefs and a tight black shirt. 

“Yeah Baby, you can stay like that.” He said with a grin and knelt on the bed beside Cas who hummed but then frown as a drip of lube slid between his buttcheeks. 

“Can I have a tissue or something? I do not enjoy the feeling of lubricant against my taint or between my buttocks.” Cas stated and Dean looked at him for a moment before cracking up with loud boisterous laughter. 

“You really are an odd man, Castiel.” Dean said as he reached back to the side table and pulled a few tissues from the drawer. As he handed them to a blushing Castiel he spoke again. 

“I think I like it.” Dean whispered and sealed their lips together again. This time it was a slow, pull and push, warm kiss. Something that was just shared and not escalated. When he pulled back he felt his heart pull tight in his chest. 

A smile was gracing the edges of Cas’s pink lips, his eyes were closed, and, christ, he looked angelic . 

“I like you, Dean.” Cas said, wishing he could say he loved Dean but that would be inappropriate he reminded himself. 

Dean smiled and leaned back in for another kiss, one of many many more to be shared before Cas announced he was tired and wiggled under the blankets once he’d wiped himself clean of lubricant. 

-0-0-0-0-

“You stayed… all night.” Castiel whispered in awe, in a gravellier growling voice as he picked his head up from Dean’s arm. 

“Well yeah you’re like a starfish.” Dean laughed out as he set his phone, which he’d been playing on, onto the bedside. Cas had been stuck to him all night. Legs thrown over him, hands grabbing and holding on, until he’d finally gotten comfortable with one arm smushed down straight between them, one thrown across Dean’s chest with one of Dean’s legs trapped between Cas’s own, which only cause Dean to think how much a monster of a dick could seem so… cute and cuddly like a stuffed animal but it was very late when he’d thought that. 

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Cas said as he started to scootch and get away but he was stopped by Dean’s hand coming behind his neck and pulling him back down. 

“No, no, Cas. baby it was good. You’re a cuddle bug, I liked it.” Dean said with a smile and nuzzled into Cas’s disastrous looking hair. He was really hoping he wasn’t over stepping. Some guys didn’t like the… loving part. They wanted kinky sex with someone who was close enough to a girl to stave off their gay needs and then they wanted to leave. But Cas seemed… different. True and honest and and god Dean didn’t wanna feel so attached already. 

Cas looked up at him with a serious look, blue eyes sharper than cut diamond. 

“Can I come back? Can I come back and we can cuddle more?” He asked, voice heartbreakingly begging, rolling like thunder through Dean. 

“Ya know what we’re not really supposed to do this but I stopped being an official model years ago. You should have my number. Meet me for lunch sometime and we can cuddle at your place. Be more comfortable.” Dean explained as he stood up and dug through the desk for paper and a pen. It was dangerous to give Cas such a hold on himself but.. Dean couldn’t resist. He wanted Castiel. 

Castiel. 

Cas. 

God Dean was too old for crushes like this. 

“Can I make you food? Can I bake you something? I make good cookies and pies and-” Castiel started as he knelt on the edge of the bed, holding the piece of paper like it was treasure. Dean cut him off though. 

“Make me a pie and you won’t be able to get rid of me. Pies are a dangerous thing, Castiel.” Dean said and Castiel stood up and smiled, completely unbashful of how exposed he was in Dean’s wrinkled and stained slip. He stepped close to Dean and kissed him lightly. 

“I’ll make you hundreds.”

Next Chapter ->

[lnmei]

How I Approach Figure Drawing

Got asked about tips for figure drawing and...I have a lot to say! I thought to just catalogue what I’ve been doing to build up my figure drawing knowledge and habit, so hopefully this is a useful reference for anyone interested in figure drawing :)

make it a habit (but take it easy!)

This is probably the most important and most annoying tip ever lol I’ve been figure drawing for 7-8 years (on and off! I don’t pressure myself if I have other things to do) so it really just takes time. Given that, my biggest tip for figure drawing is to figure out how you can have fun on this forever journey, so everything below is what I do to have fun and maintain the necessary enthusiasm to persist at it.

warm-up before a figure drawing session of myself figure drawing at my desk:

be bad at it on a regular basis

kind of just the principle of drawing....but with figure especially you draw so many of them that it’s important to let your drawings be bad to free yourself of pressure, and good ones will come out just from the brute force repetition of the skill.

Whenever I feel myself hitting a wall I intentionally revert to letting go of the desire to make a good drawing and try drawing in different ways even if it looks or feels bad in the moment. Some of my favorite drawings are the result of this, it’s awesome how that works out lol

For example, if I’m frustrated by my line work, I’ll start drawing thicker lines than usual and more cartoony (by my standards at least...) to loosen up:

set small goals for figure drawing

The main thing with figure drawing is that to get good, you have to draw hundreds and thousands of figures over time...so to keep that from being repetitive I change up my goal regularly so I can exercise different ways of thinking and keep it fresh, and my drawings look different based on what I am aiming for

Goal of practicing for cleaner lines and using line variety (5 min each):

Goal of drawing the lines neatly to color after (10 min each):

A typical progression I’ve seen is to build from drawing nude models to clothed models which is what I did, but honestly just start with what you want to learn the most and you’ll figure out what you want to work on.

copy other people

When I used to go to live figure drawing, I’d peek at what people sitting all over the studio were doing and copy their method or look. I look at artists online and pull up their work while I draw. I like sessions where there’s an artist demo because I can see what they’re doing (zeet does this). Figure drawing is great because everyone draws the same thing in their own way so it’s cool to see the variety, and it goes so fast that no matter what your references are, it still retains your habits so it’s actually your drawing even when you copy lol

Figure drawing done with heavy reference to Greco-Roman pottery art (4 min for lines):

traditional vs digital media

I switch between drawing on paper and drawing digitally for variety. The material constrains how you draw so it makes each session different from the last and you’ll gain different techniques and discover effects you like over time.

Colored pencil figure drawings with the prompt to draw the model as an animal (5 min each):

Brush pen, ballpoint pen, and felt tip pen figure drawings (1-2 min each):

Also draw at different scales. Try drawing on big paper, try drawing a single pose big, or compose a big page with many small figures.

drawing time

again, variety! Switch up how long the figures each take and how long the overall sessions are. See how your approach and outcomes change based on how long you have to draw. I do long sessions of 3 or more hours less frequently with short 20-30 minute sessions more frequently (I like these short ones lately).

I think persistence and stamina are important for figure drawing, so building up your tolerance for long sessions is a good goal if you are looking to improve. Also, long poses and short poses present different problems to solve, so try them all.

I tend to treat super long poses as paintings so sometimes I’ll color them live (this is a 25 min pose):

short poses I color after the pose ends if I even color them (3 min poses)

line quality

try drawing with a soft line like pencil vs a hard line like pen, different brushes, etc. 

Also try drawing with the constraint that you cannot retrace a line

try drawing with and without an under sketch

how much anatomy do I need to know?

I hate studying anatomy lol I would say you only need as much as you feel like you need so don’t stress over it, but pick up little bits of knowledge and apply them whenever you can.

That said, I thing the biggest help to anatomy for me (other than directly studying it) is to attend nude model sessions in person. Seeing the figure in real life and having to translate the 3D form to paper clarifies what the important forms and connections are to make a clear drawing. These are studies of live models from 2020 after I’d been doing nude models for ~6 years

My figure anatomy big 3 concepts have been

1) construction/proportion – how and where different body parts connect and overlap to form the whole

2) balance/weight – where is the figure applying force, stretching vs. compressing? if the model is stationary, how is the poses stability maintained? If the model is meant to be in motion, what are the directions of force?

3) anatomy from top down – start with very basic anatomy forms like cylinders for the upper and lower arm, egg shape for head, ball and socket for shoulder joint, etc. and build your understanding of anatomy up from there. I get tied down by too much detail so it’s worked out better for me to start with a very dumb anatomical understanding and learn to add nuance over time.

Here’s an example of points 1 and 3 using Teen Titans Slade Wilson (homework for a class I took lol). Break down the proportion, how parts connect, and the basic shapes of body parts and assemble them like a doll. You can do this for any style you want to learn from, and for realistic human figures. This is the basics of “figure construction”.

Internalizing a model that you’ve deconstructed and can reconstruct from memory is the basis for building a “general model,” which is just a generic human body that you can use to figure draw so you don’t have to think about how the body is constructed and can focus on expressing the pose, character, gesture, while maintaining accuracy to a human figure. Here are poses I constructed from imagination once I broke down and understood how to draw Slade.

A lot of this stuff is specifically applicable to animation character drawing but it’s been helpful towards figure drawing for me.

how things look vs. how things feel

I like to switch my focus between drawing for accuracy/correctness (studying the pose, anatomy, etc.), and drawing to capture how the figure physically feels even if it breaks the anatomy. I like to do the pose myself to feel how the model feels, where the stretch and compression of the pose is, and how it feels to exaggerate the pose, and then drawing from that experience.

Some of these legs don’t work anatomically but they feel right and look cool. These drawings came out very twisty and fluid after I copied the model’s pose and exaggerated how the shoulders, waist, spine, etc. were tilted based on how they feel in my body.

drawing the model vs. drawing a character

Sometimes I get bored of drawing just what the model looks like, so I will use the figure drawing as a live reference and draw something based on the model but as a different character instead and make up new clothes, appearance, etc. It exercises your decision making about what’s important to grab from a pose reference and also trains you to design instead of copy.

These are Gallery Girl LA sessions where I drew the model with a new design:

invent another character to draw a character dynamic (left chara is invented):

Random tips

I tend to prioritize the pose and full body and leave the head for last or after the session is over so I can spend time making it look nice. 

Avoid drawing a perfect vertical or horizontal unless it is important as a design element (if the model is stand straight up and down for example, try to re-balance the pose in your drawing so it has some variety of line direction)

Be choosy about drawing straight lines on the body, save those for silhouette lines, and for internal lines figure out which way the body is bending, moving, or twisting and express that.

Like in this sketch, I tried to add subtle tilts and leans to the model who was posing upright with a mannequin (which I drew as a character):

If you wanted to know about my color process for figure drawing, here! I color after I finish the drawing session and picked out a few drawings to color.

That’s all I got for now! Have fun and draw lots!

a traditional colored pencil sketch where I changed the model’s clothes and expression/body language while drawing it, then photographed and digitally colored it after:

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 16, 2021 11:00 p.m. grandma ong's house

there’s a strangeness to a quiet enclave in a bustling metropolis, unexpected in the same manner as grant and henry’s long, unbroken brotherhood. nothing about the baseline rustle of neighbors carrying in paper grocery sacks and kids kicking a soccer ball resembles the eternal merry-go-round of life–max-capacity subway cars, clueless and loud tourists, and locals who drift through their day–just down the road. and yet above this neighborhood–and the entire sprawling city–hangs a common thread, a bluish hazy night sky.

“that was wild,” henry says, suppressed laughter bursting forth from deep in his chest, “all day everyone’s defaulted to speaking english because, well, look at you, and you even had me fooled. i actually forgot you kind of speak basic korean."

“the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.”

henry rolls his eyes dramatically but in the same split second, throws an arm around grant’s shoulders.

“i was afraid that soup was going to fly out of your mouth.” grant returns the gesture, though it requires him to lean down so as to not smother henry’s face instead. “too close for comfort.”

“well, in my defense, i was not expecting you to reply to my grandma asking me, “daehyun, i haven’t seen your friend since your wedding. how did you meet again?”

grant shrugs. “we met on a playground twenty-four years ago.”

“on my very first weekend as a resident of the semi-good ol’ US of A. in the opposite situation. i remember being so pissed that my parents made me go out to ‘make friends’ that weekend. not moving, mind you, but making friends. i guess they were psychics, though, because apparently, it didn’t bother you that i didn’t speak your language for at least a couple weeks.”

“people say i could talk to a wall.”

henry laughs again. “you could. you’re very chatty.”

“did it bother you that i wrote you some really, really, really shitty letters in korean in the early days based on online translations i found?”

“no, that was sweet.” no question about it–the joy in henry’s eyes is determined. “they were definitely horrendous, but it’s the thought that counted. you could do better now. oh, and i think i still have all those letters. i should. i did box them up when i moved out of my parents’ house.”

they were, all things considered, never very much alike, beyond the fact they both liked cats but weren’t allowed to have any. henry’s mom was allergic, but grant’s parents despised pets. otherwise, they were polar opposites. grant always liked math and science, wanted to work with airplanes, and preferred to spend his free time with others playing tabletop RPGs and computer games; henry always liked art and history, wanted to be a photographer, and preferred to be left alone to his vintage film camera and pottery. grant’s parents raged when he selected aviation over medicine; henry’s parents and grandparents, all artists, were delighted by his dreams of photography. moreover, grant selectively speaks his mind, while henry rarely minces words.

and still–

the shrill honk of a car off in the distance disturbs grant’s thoughts.

“you really could talk to a wall, but hey, why did you approach me on the swing set that day? you were already busy hanging out with your sisters. and your cousins. why me?”

and still, the two have fused into one. the world turned upside down; grant paints these days, henry has long been a willing dungeons and dragons player, and separation from one another is like losing half your body. if henry walked away now–ended this messy half-hug early–grant would turn to ash.

“well,” grant begins, drawing out the suspense with an exaggerated sigh, “first of all...”

[correctpathos]

Learning to Draw #1 - :)

My Manifesto that will be read as I lay destruction to The Works

I'm in my late 20s. I'm doing this because I can't find anyone else showing a similar process as a genuine sucky beginner. I used to draw a bit in my early teens. Slated for greatness at my art GCSE, a master of using the ruler for two-point perspective, I could achieve an 'A' they said - if I chose it - and I bet you're wondering how I got here... At home I drew my favourite anime characters. They weren't good, but whatever. I drew Itachi from Naruto and was so happy with this one that I took it to my parents to use their scanner. I subtly wanted to show it off, but I said I thought it would be cool if I scan it and colour it in on my cracked version of Photoshop CS5.

All I remember is they both saw it and had a good laugh at Itachi's hand. "It looks like E.T - 'phone home'". I didn't colour it in, and don't think I drew anything after that. The GCSE Art I took was bizarrely thin on teaching theory/skills and more about trying out a variety of creative mixed media - textured collages, pottery, and the like. I didn't draw a single thing and somehow achieved a B.

So anyway, I kept wishing I knew how to draw. Not as a professional or anything. Just enough to convey a sketch of an idea on the page that didn't look weird. What inspired me to pick it up again was some of the artwork in the RPG book for 'Warlock'. Thought it was rad as fuck. Wish I could do that.

Figuring out how to do this has sucked so much ass. So many 'beginners' post absolutely passable drawings to undermine your confidence, or they bait you in and say "yeah, I'm learning to draw...I stopped a few years ago when I finished up with Sistine Chapel". Fuckers. One egregious example was on the 'learntodraw' subreddit where someone said their husband started drawing a 'week ago', presenting a near photo-realistic image. Later admitting after backlash that their husband had only just started 'taking it seriously this week, but has drawn before'.

All the other guidance essentially consists of happy-go-lucky 'just draw :)' or locked-in 'drawing is like working out, put the reps in'. In-between are mentions of 'the fundamentals' but the best way to learn these are???

A few months ago I attempted 'Draw a Box'. I gave up because I'll be honest, it is incredibly boring to spend your evenings drawing 250 boxes, cylinders, and then once you finally think you're onto the interesting stuff you get asked to do several pages of arrows. I still hadn't drawn anything apart from basic shapes.

The structure was good for me though, so I thought let's buy an online art class. The course recommends joining their community and sharing your first work, which you must draw 'from your mind'. Here is Chroknight. This took approx 2 hours of really trying. This was still attempting to incorporate ideas about perspective and breaking down shapes I had heard about from Draw a Box. So this probably shows a month of learning. This is what I want to see when I look for a beginners journey.

I did this for a bit and drew some heads before becoming so fucking angry at the entire process. "People can be broken down into very basic shapes - squares, circles, triangles". Yet what really happens is a lot of complex rules around curving, avoiding tangent lines, and so on. I watch as the 'forms' get drawn in and say "okay, how the fuck do you make that look like a person?". My forms were often weirdly askew so I tried to correct them. The heads just don't look right. I was really struggling to spot that my forms were so wrong that it wasn't until I got to the details or the end that I was like "oh, wow this is really off". People who can draw say "just make sure your forms are correct first", and I get it - but often I can't tell until I start putting features on.

I know they're not like if you just picked up a pencil for the first time. This was around 2-3 months of learning. I was really feeling angry and impatient that after drilling facial features and head forms that they still looked so weird and were taking a significant amount of time to draw. Each of these took at least an hour. Could've watched X-Files.

"This is why an understanding of anatomy is so important" the instructor says on their demo. Proceeding to practically, to my untrained eye, ignore their forms and freely draw 'skin lines' to indicate anatomy. How do I do that? "Study anatomy". The assignment for this part of the course is to draw each body part 'until memorised'. More grinding. I was too angry and couldn't face it.

So here I am a few months on. I am going to restart the course and actually begin 'grinding'. Drawing regularly, from reference, whatever. I am banning myself from artist YouTube videos about how they learn because these people are already great and their advice amounts to variations of studying/grinding or even worse "learning to love art again". I am also leaving the communities full of people posting things I can only aspire to and saying "any feedback UnU?", "why do I suck? :(".

x

[garrettwrites]

There's a particular type of post that I hate for it misses the entire point of some online "aesthetic" communities, via total exaggeration of the majority of people that are part of it.

You need to understand what a fantasy is. Even if it's unrealistic and you hate it. Because it's a fantasy, sometimes an escapist one, not reality.

I was raised in rural areas from 11 to around 20, first because me and my mother moved to live with a friend, and then because I was orphaned. I know the hard work of living in the countryside. I know what it is like to carry tones of wood from the truck to the garage to heat up the house and water for winter. I know how cows infest the nearby areas with flies and the smell of shit. I know chickens are disgusting. I know no white clothing would remain white for long. I know you sometimes live so far from the nearest market you need to use a car (thankfully I only had to walk twenty minutes).

Cottagecore or any variation of it are not that. They are a fantasy. An escapist dream. The return to a glamourized pastoral genre of fiction and ideology. Cute homes that remain always cozy (despite you never deep cleaning them). Baking complex recipes in your beautiful and plant covered kitchen (which magically has no flies). Taking a stroll to a nearby river and resting there for a bit (your house came from the sky and you didn't pay an exorbitant amount of money for the location). Having so many books and old fashioned hobbies and knowing how to both tend to a garden, do embroidery, crochet and woodworking (because this is your ideal world so you have no job taking up time). You have time to write your books, draw your art, maybe go out with your countryside friends. You may have a loving, imaginary partner who is just part of the picture too (because they're not real, so you can imagine them as unrealistic as you please).

Same applies to the dark academia or whatever.

It's a fantasy. A fantasy you can try to bring little by little into your life, but it's ultimately impossible to fully achieve. Chill out. You're not cool and quirky by hating on people who make extensive and picture perfect pinterest boards or run sideblogs with pictures of expensive stoves and animal themed pottery. You just look like an asshole.

"But farm life isn't like that!!!!!" So what? As long as people don't think caring for cows is easy and cheap, and get one only to mistreat her due to negligence... I don't see how their fantasy is harming anyone.

Some people accept unrealistic, borderline insipid (imo) books because "everyone has a different taste". Books you actually pay for. But then you shit on people who are posting pictures of dreams with zero real world consequences involved? It's the exact same thing.

"But people will start thinking it's fun when it ain't!" If you go ahead and buy a farm, waste thousands on decorations, get twenty chickens and five cows without any research... it's not because of a pastoral fantasy. It's because you're an idiot who doesn't think of the ramifications of your actions. We all have fantasies. Good lord.

My fantasy is to have a small neo gothic palace with a farm on the back, near the woods and with a small stream running through. It snows there, because I've never seen snow. Everything is dark and with a vague vampire theme mixed with neo-classic stuff, along with wall and ceiling paintings. I have expensive turkish rugs and tapestries with mythological scenes. I have a loving husband and two cats, along with a mare. I spend my days writing books and drawing illustrations, ocasionally doing history papers. My gigantic home is always clean despite no one doing so. Later, I have a child running through the place. Food is always warm, coffee always served.

Do I think I'll ever get this? Fuck no. But it's a goddamn fantasy for a reason, and as a writer, I can also commit it to paper. Who cares about how hard maintaining such a house would be? I don't live in it.

[brood-mother]

i am actually so so fucking sick of right wing chuds getting shoved in my face every single day by social media "algorithms" despite the fact there is quite literally nothing in my online footprint that would suggest i was even vaguely interested in them. i don't look them up, i don't look up their talking points, none of my friends follow or interact with them, i block/hide every single fash or fash-adjacent loser i come across, i don't believe in engaging with online discourse in any way, not of the things i do actively seek out overlap with nazi grifters, and YET i open fb and its like "here's 3-4 matt walsh vids on your timeline in a row even though you keep hitting dont recommend and no-one in your social circle would piss on him if he was on fire", i open youtube and its like "for you: you REALLY want to watch some count dankula? no? how about 700 poorly edited video essays on why FEMALES are TEH EVILS!!!!! video james woke? you hate black people right? trannies are grooming your grannies (shocked face thumbnail)??? have you considered hitler did nothing wrong???" despite the fact the extent of my subs are like. hbomberguy, shanspeare and jenny nicholson and my watch history this week is mostly cute pottery videos. no wonder so many poor idiots get suckered in so easily. it feels literally inescapable........

[iantimony]

tues

last tuesday in my apartment! going away for ~6 weeks! trying to be normal about it! posting this pretty early in the day compared to normal because i woke up insanely early from my roommate's cat yelling ... then i got bad period cramps and languished in bed with a heating pad for way too long ... did not end up going to my office today, oops ...

listening: like many others i have gotten sucked into the kendrick/drake Beef. i do sporadically listen to hip hop and rap in general but somehow had never gotten around to kendrick. better late than never, i suppose! this is not news but he's really good!! i listened to 'good kid, m.A.A.d city' for the first time and it's just really really good. i cannot recommend a Single Favorite Song the way i sometimes do with albums i like just because this is one of the ones that i let wash over me as an entire cohesive unit. do recommend if you have somehow lived under a rock like me.

reading: mostly fallow. some academic paper stuff. biting my nails about prelim exam things.

watching: dunmeshi and asobi.

playing: ran an insane dnd session saturday for the online weekly group that i got roped into earlier this year ... i'm glad i'm running it, i'm having a lot of fun with it, but my god. we decided to do a 'slightly' longer session than normal because we're not gonna get to play for about a month due to scheduling/travel of various people. it was Six Hours Long. AND THEY COULD HAVE KEPT GOING. killing myself For Real. but actually i do have fun i just. woof. i am excited to have a bit of a break from it. the only tabletop thing i will be doing with that group until like...june 8??? maybe even the week after? is i set up a spindlewheel spreadsheet for me and one of the players! he had to go awol for a few weeks and we're doing a little spindlewheel game as a way to plot out what his character was up to in that period, very fun, will be low-pressure and asynchronous.

making: trying to finish up some pottery stuff before i leave town! carving in crows into this bowl that i will be painting in with black:

handles added to the new cave painting mugs:

and i went to life drawing again for the first time this year! i will not be back at that specific studio til july lol rip but i plan on going to a local place at least once when i'm at home :) 3 min poses, last sketchy one is a 5-minute, and then the hour long!

finally, the bookbinding stuff i did last week and forgor to post! the little one is scraps to test coptic binding, the bigger one behind it is going to be a travel journal for when i'm in the UK for two weeks :)

eating: really really fallow. a lot of eating out and scrounging frozens because i'm leaving town for a while. hoping to cook for my family while i'm at home. i did eat basically an entire jar of grilled olives from trader joes.

misc: i cannot believe how slow this semester went for most of it and then how fast it's been for the end. good god. i leave my apartment in an hour to go get my brother from the airport, we hang for a few days, and then off i go on saturday! fucked up for real! i'm very excited to see my boyfriend and then go abroad though (!!!), less looking forward to feeling like i'm trapped at home again, but maybe this time will be fine (doubt but hopeful). god i need to think about packing, huh. fuckin hell.

[preciadosbass]

27/8/24 [1x DIY, draft from tuesday — key + significant photos at end]

woke up at 9:22 and went to say goodmorning to boris via the camera in the kitchen but he wasn’t on the table, which means he’s found a new spot. i got dressed as soon as i could [which is when i noticed that i don’t have any shirts left that i haven’t worn already] into my pierce the veil shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, knee high converse, a blueish-purple/silver studded belt[s], a one row studded bracelet, diy bracelet, my diy can tab bracelet, a purple and black studded cuff, a long purple spiked bracelet, panic! at the disco bracelet, my chemical romance bracelet, and a kandi single.

i left for breakfast at 9:50. at this point my parents had already gone so all i had left to do was go there. i had some cereal and checked on boris on the camera again. when i checked, i saw my aunt sitting on the kitchen chairs and boris standing at the doorway of the front door. i also saw my aunt get ivy for the stick insects and go outside with boris. she’d texted me a few minutes earlier that she was going to try and get him inside and she’d come round and let him out again later, so i assumed she went to pick him up, but after a few seconds boris just walked in. which is weird because when he knows that someone’s trying to pick him up, he runs. anyway, i was super happy to see him.

after breakfast, me and my parents went back to the chalet at 10:40. my sister just stays in the room and sleeps when we go for breakfast so that’s why she wasn’t with us. i journaled for twenty minutes before me and my parents went over to the arts and crafts buildings. as today is the first day for many people, there’s not any shows on apart from 1-2 at night and during the day you just have the activities there to do — like the fair, swimming etc. following on from this, yesterday night we checked the resort’s app and saw that there’s pottery painting today. so we went to go and see if we could get me booked in. while my mum spoke to staff, i had a look at the pre made pottery there. there was quite a few different figures, fairies, cars, unicorns, but the one that caught my eye was a shark.

they couldn’t get me in the current session so we were told to book online and come to another session. so, we went back to our room and my mum booked a session for 4pm. i stayed in the chalet for an hour while journaling until i decided to go and join my dad at darts after he called me and told me that ‘that rock programme’ is on the tv again. [he’d left previously when he realised that we weren’t doing anything necessarily productive together]. i packed my bag and made my way to the sports building. when i walked in they were playing artic monkeys. i had some water and just watched my dad for a bit as after that there wasn’t anything i knew/and i wasn’t keen on artic monkeys either.

they played ‘welcome to the black parade’ by my chemical romance and i was lip syncing it the whole time XD - after, the programme started playing something else i didn’t like so i went over to a sofa in the far corner [with a tv infront] and sat there so i could journal and hear the tv if anything good came on again. while i was there they played [im just going to mention the bands i like/know that played]: the used, kings of leon, blink 182 and limp bizkit. the tv’s content is on a loop so i managed to see what i missed last time my dad went to darts. unfortunately i didn’t hear green day though.

my mum and sister arrived while i was doing my journal and my sister played with my dad for a while while i journaled and my mum watched the the used music video [i cant remember the song, but she really liked the concept of the video]. afterwards, we all went round to the arcade. my sister had a game of that minecraft game again. she stayed alive for decently long until these baby zombies swarmed her and she died. [photo at end]

as soon as she was done and we came through the back of the arcade doors and into the fair grounds i realised that my favourite wasn’t open [the one i went on with D and my sister.] my mum also said that all of the other rides said ‘last ride in process’ on the entrance gates. so we went to the only ride that was still open, a boat ride that spins round on a heightened platform in a half circle shape. i hadn’t been on it since i was around 7-8. it was pretty fun but very shaky-up-y. my dad hates stuff like that so it was funny to see him on it as he’d forgotten how spinny it is.

we went back to the chalet at 2 and got our swimming stuff ready. we then walked round to the swimming complex. i got myself a changing room and got undressed into my swimming costume + shorts and a t shirt [i also noticed in the process that my camouflage shorts and ruined because of the chlorine exposure :(] everyone else was already ready by the time i had finished so i went straight into the actual swimming part of the complex. i started getting really overstimulated because everyone around me was splashing water/being really loud/my sister was going on/it was really stuffy/and i was being asked what i’m doing [as in, what i’m going to do] over and over again.

i sat down to check the temperature of the water in the ‘adult’ pool and got quite wet while doing so. and even this was enough to make me feel freezing — although i could still feel the stuffiness. my sister and mum went onto a family flume ride while i ‘decided’ what i wanted to do. the problem was, i did want to swim. i just couldn’t, i was so overstimulated. so after they’d come back and i’d had a decently long conversation about me not trying to be rude/ungrateful, i just can’t — me and my dad went back into the changing rooms.

we got out our clothes and got dressed back into our outfits. we then walked back to the chalet and left for clay painting at 3:50. we arrived and i picked up my clay shark money bank i selected from yesterday. i didn’t actually notice it was a money bank yesterday, but i was a little too overly excited upon finding out. i don’t know why, i just like money banks. i haven’t ever consistently used one though, so maybe when i’m home i can start using him [the shark] properly and save up for something or another. i say that though, i never thought i’d journal consistently. [just ignore that this is a draft from tuesday yeah, i generally am consistent *wink wink*]

i got myself a table with my dad and mixed a blue colour i liked, and made a lot of it incase i ran out. then i looked at a few cartoon shark reference pictures to work out where i needed to put each colour/where to end colour lines [if that makes any sense]. all i ended up managing to do was the blue, so the top half of the shark, but it was okay because i’ve already planned to finish him when i get home. [give his eyes detail, touch up any mistakes, paint his belly grayish-white.] i was getting stressed out though, as i kept on going over the guidelines id made with a pencil and ruining where the white is going to be. but my dad helped and touched up what he could in the moment [as we were running out of time] with white paint.

we accidentally ended up going over the sessions time by a few minutes [or so the staff said, but the picture i took of the shark is two minutes before 5 and i would’ve imagined it’d end on an ‘even’ time.] so i rushed to the back of the building and and put the shark on a radiator to dry like the other clay paintings. [photo at end] we then went back to the room and i sorted out some journaling things. then at 7:30, me and my sister both put on our skates and all left to skate on the beach. when we got there, my dad was saying it wasn’t open. my mum didn’t believe him, but it was shut. we were all pretty lost for a while because that’s what we’d planned to do, but we resorted to skating around the luxury accommodations as the ground surface isn’t too rough.

we skated for a small while until we came across a mini playground. my sister hopped on a swing so i did the most obvious thing and hopped on the other. i honestly started going so high i thought i was going to flip and fall off - or maybe i’m just not used to swinging like i was. we then got off and went to skate some more, but then saw some pigeons kissing and i love pigeons so i stopped to take a quick picture. [photo at end along with a picture of a bat] once we started going again, we headed to a now private preschool i used to go to at the resort all the time when i was a toddler. we had to go through the staff reserved ‘village’ to get there, and once we did i was met by the most terrifying humpty dumpty statue. apparently i used to like it when i was younger, but now i just find it eye gauge-worthy.

i peeked inside the window of the preschool to see if i recognised it, and i thought i did for a second — but i have a tendency of convincing myself i recognise things when i don’t. so i’m going to say i didn’t remember it. afterwards, we skated round to where the outdoor swimming pool used to be as my mum wanted to see if i recognised a building that had bob the builder at the doorway. i dont think i would’ve anyways, but now it’s a wooden restaurant and there’s nothing outside it. we continued skating upwards so my sister could take a look at the water fountains. they were on and she started working herself up about going through them and she just ended up doing it.

she went through around 3 and it looked like she was going to fall every time due to the water pushing upwards on her skates. at least she has quads and not in liners like mine. we then went back round to the good surface ground and skated all the way round to a pretty unknown part of the resort where you get to the caravans. to get there you have to go through a tunnel that’s on a hill, and that was fun to go down. my mum showed me to a pub that most of the people staying at the caravans go to where there’s almost always live music. and sure enough there was, but i cant recall what song they were playing. [photo at end] we didn’t stay for long as it was super hot and me and my sisters skates were starting to irritate our ankles.

so we made our way back and forced ourselves up the now uphill tunnel. on the way through i saw a pac-man tag and thought it’d be perfect for my collage journal so i picked it up XD — we then made our way back to our chalet through the maze of luxury rooms. when we got back to the chalet i journaled up until late when i realised that quite a lot of the tumblr draft text was burnt into my phone. i then freaked and searched up how to get rid of it, and it said to power my phone off for a few hours. so i did, put my onesie on and had a nap because there was no more shows on and i couldn’t think of what else to do. my mum woke me up once my sister was asleep so i could ask her [my mum] and my dad questions about boris.

i was quite quick with the questions as i was half asleep, and once i was finished [1] i used my dads phone to say goodnight to boris. i have no idea how long i took or when i went to sleep as i wasn’t checking the time, but i don’t remember it being quick.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions about boris/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he's okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i'm hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[pikaflute]

HAI if you have any more oddly specific headcanons u haven't shared about sam and slash or max i would love to hear them

OOOO yes :) ill do both teehee

sam

okay im gonna start with his family cause i wrote some headcanons for them yesterday. he has two sisters who are younger than him. he was really good at taking care of them when he was little because he had to take of a worse child (max) all the time. they tease their big bro about max btw. max joins in. worst fucking husband of the year. they're like 10 years younger than him. their names are sara and sadie. listen the s names are good.

his mom loves him so much. like sam's her little angel. she spoils him rotten when he comes home and max laughs about it and sam tells him to jump off a cliff.

his dad is just like him (autistic). he's a lawyer (user pikaflute always tries to squeeze in lawyers in every media like their life depends on it FUKKKK … why sam’s dad a lawyer all of da sudden) and he's the reason why sam wanted to be a detective. they watched noir films together when sam was young

back to general headcanons now: sam is a gamer. yeah, old pc point and clicks and puzzle games. and arcade games. he's probably secretly really good at newer games but he's rather just relax and take his time and solve shit.

not a morning person. at all. he will not leave the bed until like 10 am and will guzzle a pot of coffee. he just wants to stay in bed. i say let him!

likes to window shop. he will walk around new york with max and when he sees something he likes he will look into the store and will stay there until max has to pull him away.

he can bake. him mom and grandma taught him :). he has max taste his stuff and it just ends up with max eating like 10 cupcakes in like 10 minutes

has like all these figurines of things he knows nothing about. the geek asks him where he got that limited edition collectible miku and sam's like "oh she's just a cute one isn't she?" "sam they made like 100 of these how did you get her" "i found her!"

i'm giving him my greatest struggle: ibs. boys who go through tummy aches are our strongest warriors!

baseball lover. go mets!

max

i know most family headcanons for max give him siblings but. i want to be funny. he's an only child. like he is that kind of asshole (source i'm an only child)

he has two moms. yeah deal with it. lesbianism WIN.

as a kid the only person his moms would let him go play with was sam because max would actually be calm around sam and they wouldn't have to be on high alert for their kid biting someone's head off

he will make accounts to go on forums to argue with people about shit he knows nothing about and is 100% wrong on but will win the argument anyway. he truly has the heart of a poster. he's also banned from most forums and like twitter and facebook

i think he has a bunch of different things he picked up as a hobby. knitting, wood carving, poker (obviously), video games, drawing, pottery, solving puzzles (he sucks at those and asks sam for help), and many more. he can't keep his mind focused, he's gotta do it all!

speaking of video games, he plays violent ones. he likes the blood and gore. it's funny to him. he also plays fighting games online and is extremely toxic to everyone around him. he just like me fr.

he loves spicy food. like he will guzzle spice packets into his open mouth all the time. then he'll get a stomach ache from eating like 15 spicy packets from taco bell

hates hot weather. it makes his fur all puffy and static. he also hates the heat in general, make him irritable (more than usual)

i think he stims a lot. he moves around a lot doing stuff in the games but i think one day sam gets him a fidget toy and max is like oh my god. oh my god sam i could make love to you. and sams like. play with the toy instead jackass. and max does like all the time everyday forever.

hockey lover. go devils!

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty (Part 3)

It’s close to nine by the time the party actually starts. Loads of very fashionable, intimidating people come into the garden, all of them having some conversation they want to have with Jude, so he’s quickly occupied. I sit at the patio table with a group of girls whose names I forget the moment they introduce themselves to me and try to make all the right sounds as they discuss their college offers, acting like my attention isn’t being pulled towards him every time he moves. 

“It’s got like, the most authentic college experience.” Says one of the girls who won’t stop going on about Trinity. “Like, even having that sort of Ivy League atmosphere you know? And you’re right in the heart of the city. Think of all the choices for lunch.”

“I heard everyone who goes there is up themselves.” Another says acridly, which causes an uneasiness to settle over the conversation. I have an acute sense for these kinds of microaggressions after having Kelly as a friend for over half my life, and whatever this is, the echo of a discord between these girls that I’ll never know the intricacies of, it drags up all sorts of wretched feelings from somewhere inside me, and I want to go and stand beside Jude instead. And where’s Jen?

“Where are you going to college?” One of them shoots a question at me before I can move, and it pins me to my seat. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m only after finishing fifth year.”

“Oh, tiny baby.” She comments in a not unkind way, but it makes me squirm. “So like, have you an idea of where you’ll go?”

“Not really, like I probably want to do art, but I don’t know which is the best college or anything. I haven’t really looked into it too much.”

“Oh, just go to NCAD. It’s the only acceptable choice.”

“Okay.”

“What’s it with all these people doing fine arts these days?” The dour one asks of nobody in particular. She’s smoking a cigarette and dropping the ashes right onto the table. “In this economy I actually think it’s bananas. Like, what are the jobs?”

“I dunno. Selling paintings in a gallery.” Someone suggests. “Or doing that street art thing that they do in Montmartre.” The way she says Montmartre in a really pretentious french accent irks me. It reminds me of how people insist on pronouncing croissant the authentic way, even when it’s just been made at some industrial bakery in Clondalkin. 

“You can do loads.” I insist. “Like pottery, printmaking, graphic design, teaching… and actually you can do sculpture, which Jude is going to do.”

The Montmartre girl throws her eyes to the sky. “Yes, we know all about his odd choices.” She peers over her shoulder at him, down on the grass talking animatedly to some guy in chinos. “And I still can’t believe he was so determined to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh. Like the way his parents kicked off about it. Imagine, a dental surgeon and an actuary having a son who wants to mould clay as a job.”

“I’d go mental if I worked hard to provide for my family and then had an artist for a child.” Says cigarette girl, who must have forgotten what I said about going to art college. Otherwise she’s being purposefully mean. “Like to the point that I’d stop them from playing with crayons in case they liked it too much.” A couple of the girls laugh darkly. Clearly she’s one of those people that gets a kick out of saying really crazed things just to get a reaction. 

“Oh look who’s here.” One of them says, and they spin around to watch a skinny girl in a sequined top come out through the patio doors and do this bouncy little hop down the stone steps towards Jude. I don’t even have to ask who she is, because I already know. I’ve done a thorough investigation of her. I’ve scoured her social media, I’ve seen every picture of her that exists in the online sphere and I’ve read every status she’s ever written, in fact I’ve already compared myself to her in a thousand painful ways and tortured myself trying to figure out the things that made him want her but not me.

I watch him hug her tightly and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi Michelle, so good to see you.” I lip read, and the look that he gives her makes my stomach twist. The chair makes a hideous scraping sound under me as I get up and go inside to the kitchen. 

“Evie, oh my God! I didn’t know you were here!” Jen is there, pouring herself a vodka and coke at the counter. I go over to her and we hug, and I ask her how long she’s been here. “Not long.” She tells me. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was at the table with those girls.” 

“Oh lovely.” She says blandly and loops her arm into mine. “Have you had a drink?”

“Just a glass of wine.”

“Here.” She gives me her cup and then pours herself another. “We’re hardly going to get through the fabled Last Night without a few drinks.”

I nod in agreement. “How are you doing?”

“Ugh, it’s just weird. We’ve always been joined at the hip, and now he’s going. But on the other hand, it’s what he wants, so it makes me happy too. And Berlin is literally two hours away. I’ll just fly over there whenever I miss him too much.” 

It’s actually a comforting thought, that he won’t be all that far away, at least physically. “Still though.” I can’t help but add. “Things change when people go away, there’ll be new friends and-”

“Please, I’m not thinking about this tonight. I already stumbled upon the harrowing mountain of suitcases outside his bedroom after I used the upstairs toilet. I need us to pretend it’s going to be normal for now. It’s all my heart can take.”

We take our drinks outside and sit down together on a rattan sofa near the group of girls I’d just been with. The mean one has all her features screwed up again and is presumably saying something unpleasant. She reminds me of Kelly. 

“Are those girls from your school?” I ask Jen, and she nods. “Yeah. They’re alright, they’re just like, into the drama a bit. There’s always something going on with them.”

“And they’re Jude’s friends.”

“Yes. Kind of. I don’t really know, if I’m honest. They’re just always around.”

“Do you think they fancy him?”

She snorts. “Dunno. Probably.”

I try my best to sound really casual as I ask a question that a huge part of me doesn’t even want the answer to. “And what, did he like, have a thing with any of them?”

“Oh yeah, a few of them.”

I pause and look, really look at each of their faces. They’re all pretty. They’re all cool, and I feel threatened by every one of them. I’m filled with inadequacy once again, a feeling that just keeps coming back around like a malicious carousel to knock me down and remind me that I’m not effortless, individual, confident, artistic or beautiful enough, and unless I can turn back the clock and change every aspect of my life, all the things that have shaped me into the person I am, I will never be. 

 I let my gaze drift down the garden where Jude is still talking to Michelle. The sun is low in the sky, and it turns his skin the colour of toffee, his dark hair backlit in auburn. I watch him with her, his expressive eyes looking at her in ways I’d thought were just for me. His wide, incandescent grin illuminates on his face every time he laughs at something that she says and it makes my heart ache. Everything about him is perfect. His long fingered painterly hands are like something ornamented in gothic stained glass. He has this elfin, feline look to his face and eyes that so many times have made me feel pinned to the spot. I realise that I am entirely, earth-shatteringly in love with him. 

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