#colors might be a little off but that's because i'm still adjusting the display

[ludotpng]

🐰bundled up

[kandlewick]

In the Queendom of Roses, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes. gn reader x rook, a howl's moving castle au pt. 1 2

You, being born the eldest of three, always knew you wouldn't make it far in life. It was to be expected after all. You were fated to fail first and worst out of your siblings. When your siblings both were able to conjure magic from a young age, you could hardly blow a breeze. It would have been embarrassing if you hadn't already humbled yourself as a child. Of course you weren't anything special. The world needed normal, ordinary people too after all. So what if you weren't able to attend fancy colleges and gain the attention of the headmage Ambrose like your sibling had. There was nothing for you to be jealous of because you never aimed higher then what you could reach.

And so, here you were, employed — stuck — at your family's prized hat shop, sitting alone in your little alcove with only your hats as company. It was quiet, some might think too quiet, but it was where you were most comfortable. No expectations, no commentary, just you, your utensils, and your craftsmanship.

You handled your hats with care, quietly whispering blessings with each stitch. They were your creations after all. You might not amount to much but your hats would. They would settled themselves on to the heads of the busy housewives, the men of the army, and the young lovers, each with their own story to tell. You would flatter the hats, just as you would your customers.

"You," handling a small cap adorned with a veil and knot, "will surely be given to someone of glamor and beauty. They won't be able to keep their eyes off of you" You set it out amongst your most prized hats, quietly adjusting it atop the display. This one was made using expensive but durable material. It wouldn't do to have it placed sloppily. It deserved the best.

"And you," you smiled with a small chuckle, picking up a white fedora with a gaudy ribbon tied around it, "will go to a wonderfully handsome man with a good heart, I'm sure of it." It was a rather silly hat, made last minute with some left over materials, but it was sturdy all the same. The colors were also popular in the Queendom of Roses, especially amongst the card soldiers employed at the castle. Maybe one of them might stumble upon your little hat shop and spy this hat in the window.

You talked to your hats more and more as the weeks went by. You were good at selling them so it wasn't hard keeping yourself afloat. Just the other day, one of the Queen's card soldiers had come in to your shop, a man with hair the color of clovers, and sheepishly asked if he could see that one white fedora in the window. He claimed that for some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about it when he had gone off shift and needed to know if it was still available. It was a good sale and you're glad your hat went off to a good owner.

But then one day, on a particularly strenuous and busy day, you found yourself stuck wit horrible artist block. No matter how much you tried, you couldn't find any sort of inspiration for a new hat. Hours were wasted while you wiled away at your desk. Nothing worked and you found yourself teary eyed, sniffling loudly as you rubbed at your burning eyes, spools of ribbon and fabric lying all around you.

"Truly," you sobbed, heart aching, "being the oldest child is the worst curse you can be given."

What good were you if you couldn't even do the one thing you had some modicum of talent for? So what if your shop was popular?Surely this is where you peaked, alone with only the company of your hats. While your siblings were off making their fortune, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you sat here alone in an empty shop. You had no friends to speak of, the only time you ever talked was when your customers gossiped at you and finally it seemed the dam you had tried so hard to ignore had finally broke. The waves of your bottled up emotions drained out of you in waves and you could hardly stand it. What was the point of youth? Compared to others your age, you felt so old, so decrepit. Your bones ached from your poor posture, your hair thinning from the stress, and your eyes were circled with what could be mistaken for charcoal. You have never felt more unfit of your young age in your life.

In your sorrow, you spotted a purple hunter's hat — an incredibly gaudy thing you had made in an attempt to create something, anything of worth — and for the first time in your life, you cursed one of your creations.

"Surely only someone who finds beauty in anything will find any use of you!"

But the days go on whether you liked them to or not. You opened your store once again and quietly pushed down your feelings. You sat in your little alcove again today, quietly and mindlessly stitching something on to another, when you heard the tall tale sign of someone entering your shop. A small jingle followed the stranger as they ducked in almost silently. You inwardly sighed, slouching against your seat, but got up all the same. It wouldn't do not to be polite. You didn't have the fortune to afford it.

"Good evening," You plastered on a small smile at the stranger, a man, before you stopped and actually got a good look of him. He was quite tall, casting a lovely slender figure with his elaborate blonde hair, and was garbed in a bright and obviously expensive purple. His sleeves trailed longer than any you've seen before, all delicate trim and golden weaves. He even wore perfume too. The subtle smell of hyacinths followed him as he turned and smiled, his bright emerald eyes crinkling with delight.

"Bonne soirée!" He eagerly returned your greeting, with a bob of his head, his hand to his chest. You blinked up at him, mildly surprised at his mannerisms but chose not to acknowledge it, instead choosing to respond in kind.

"I've never seen you before," You admitted softly, watching as he slowly turned to admire your work. It wasn't too uncommon for customers to want to see everything but there was something different about this man. The way his eyes never glazed over as he looked, almost as if he was inspecting each one in great detail, almost made you embarrassed. Most people would just mindlessly look for something to catch their fancy but this man seemed almost entranced, as if each piece was a work of art. You both stood there in silence until the strange man seemed to snap out of his trance, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Were those tears in his eyes?!

"Ah, forgive me," He apologized, "I was simply admiring them. Is this all your work?" He appeared almost eager for a response, his head bobbed to the side.

You nodded sheepishly, "Yes, these are all my work. It's my job. When I'm not up front with the customers, I'm in my workshop creating them."

His smile, once subdued and quiet, widened. He took your calloused hands in his own and squeezed them. You flushed and scrambled away but his grip was too tight, not uncomfortably so, but enough that it felt too rude to rip your hands away...

"You're incredibly talented, mon ami!" He spoke with such reverence, "All of these hats, each more enchanting then the next, were obviously created from the hands of an artist!" The strange man spoke with such conviction, he almost had you believing him. You could smell the hyacinth even clearer now from your close proximity to him and it nearly made your head spin. What a courtly person!

The stranger, his hands still firmly clasped around your own, turned back to admire your hats. "Each stitch is full of magic, I've never seen anything quiet like it before."

"I - sir, I appreciate your words but I fear they're wasted on me," You let out a nervous laugh as your heart thumped in your chest, its excited beating feeling like it was about to jump straight out or your chest, "They're just hats."

The blonde man was quick to deny this, his hair rolling down his shoulders in waves, "I beg to differ, mon petite souris! Even someone such as I can see all the hard work you've put in to these! There's no need to be so humble!"

Humble! Hardly! If only he knew how you've been the past few days, stuck in your artist block, unable to dig your way out of it. He was wrong! So, so so wrong! You were nothing! This wasn't talent, this was just you using up all the luck left that had been given to you. With an almost annoyed huff, you were quick to free your hands from the strangers embrace and hid them away in your aprons front pocket. Your fingers were shaking.

"I... appreciate your kind words but I do have a business to run," You put on your best customer service voice you could muster and looked away from the man, not seeing the soft crestfallen expression forming on his face. His eyes narrowed but he made no move to reach back out and instead, his voice lowered in to an apologetic tone.

"You're right, mon petite souris. Perhaps in my admiration, I got a bit too excited." The blonde man's gloved hand came to rest against his chest and he gave a small nod of his head towards you, trying to catch your eye, "My apologies."

Well, now on top of your horrible mood, you felt bad. You let out an equally remorseful sigh, and turned back to him but he wasn't looking at you anymore. Instead, his gaze was over your shoulder, looking past you to the lone purple hunter's cap hidden away in the back. The very hat you had cursed.

"If I may be forward," He began slowly while his eyes reluctantly looked away to meet your own, "As an apology, I'd like to purchase that hat from you. Name your price."

You gave him a look but turned to grab it. The feather tucked inside of the red around the brim bobbed as you picked it up.

"This thing?" You asked, "I don't think it's any good. I made it on a whim and —"

Rook slowly plucked it from your hand and admired it for himself, turning it this way and that. His smile was sad but he accepted it all the same, "I think it is a lovely hat," he lowered his head and slid in on top of his blonde hair. It was strange, the hat seemed to... belong with him. While the hat itself was hardly anything to look at on its own, it matched his whole ensemble, like it was a piece of the puzzle that had been missing the whole time.

"How much?" He asked, utterly enamored by his reflection.

You watched from beside him, eyes avoiding your own form, but you offered his reflection a small smile and a shake of your head, "It's free. I couldn't charge you after I was so rude to you."

The stranger's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his bright green eyes meeting your own, but they were quick to narrow in delight. His lips curled into a smile.

"Thank you, mon petite souris, I will treasure it."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" As much as you wanted to get back to your work, you couldn't help but silently wish for a few more moments with this stranger. He was so oddly charming.

"Non, non, you've done more then enough for me today." He bowed his head, the feather on his hat bobbing with the movement, and quietly made his way to the door. His steps were silent all the way. "I have much I need to do an I have left two others waiting for my company long enough." And with a final wave of his hand, the strange man exited the shop.

You stood there longer then you should've, staring at the door, his words quietly echoing in your mind.

"All of these hats, each more enchanting then the next, were obviously created from the hands of an artist!"

You scoffed but smiled all the same. Courtly men like that just say things to gain favors. He must've been just trying to butter you up. You shook your head. It was almost a shame you'd never see the man again.

The quiet was soon shattered by a bustle of women worriedly entering the shop, each one calling out for you in worried tones. One of your regulars, an elderly woman was quick to push past the others and hurry her way to you. Her arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and pulled you down to her height, "Oh, you poor thing!"

"Huh?" You blinked as she pulled away to look you over. Why was everyone so worried about you? "Whats gotten in to you all?"

"Whats gotten in to us?" She shrieked, her feet stomping into your worn floor, "What's gotten in to you! Do you know just who that man was?"

The man? The blonde, courtly man?

"Yes! That man!" She hollered, "That's the wizard Rook! Rook Hunt! The man who eats the hearts of those he sets his sights on! The one with the moving castle!!"

Oh? Oh! Oh.

You just gave the great wizard Rook Hunt an ugly hat.

[fastestmanalive333]

Childish Things: A Chris Kent Fan Fic

Fandom: DC Comics Characters: Chris Kent, Clark Kent

Chris didn't really know what had brought him to a toy store at the height of the holiday season. It was a mob scene, filled with harried parents all determined to get the hottest toys of the season. But at the same time, there was an odd joy to the place, once you got past the throngs of shoppers at the front. In the back, children were happily playing, waiting for their parents to finish, without a care in the world. Many of the toys were on display for use, and Chris had seen race cars, video games, action figures, dolls, blocks, board games...all keeping the kids busy and enthralled.

"Sir? Can I help you with something?"

Chris tuned out the saleswoman, wondering who she was talking to, as he watched a block tower take shape, holding his breath as it teetered a bit.

"Sir?"

Chris turned around, realizing she had been talking to him. He still wasn't used to being addressed as a man. His body and brain might have been adult, but at times he still felt like a young boy, trying to figure out what his place was.

"No...no, I don't need any help. Thank you."

The saleswoman nodded. "If you're looking for the video games, they're in aisle 22. We don't see many boys your age looking at the blocks!"

The saleswoman walked off chuckling to herself. Chris turned back to the block tower. It was getting pretty tall now, and looked like it could fall at any second. He waited as the heavy wooden blocks started to topple, then quickly swept in and knocked them away from the boy, so fast that no one could see. He imagined some of those blocks from high up could leave a nasty bump on the head. As the little boy began to stack again, Chris walked away. He wondered what else there was in this store.

-----

Bikes came in every color and size, but it seemed somehow unfair that they got less colorful as you got older, Chris thought as he ran his hand over a tire.

"Chris? Lois told me you were here."

Chris turned to the side to see Clark standing there. "Oh. Hi, dad. I was just looking around, and - "

"It's fine. I get it." Clark looked at a red bike. "You know, this one looks exactly like the one my Pa got me for Christmas when I was eight. You should have seen me when I opened that present..."

"I wish I had gotten to know him."

"So do I, son." Clark patted Chris on the back. "I know things have been really crazy lately, and I haven't been able to spend as much time with you as I'd like. How are you holding up? I know this has to be a pretty big adjustment."

"It is." Chris said with a nervous smile. "On one hand, I feel like the age I am now. But on the other...I never had a childhood. Growing up in the phantom zone...that wasn't a life. And then, as soon as I find a family with you and mom, this happens. What if I'm screwed up because of this? Everyone talks about how their childhood made them who they are. What if - "

"Chris..." Clark said, looking Chris in the eye. "You do not have to worry about what kind of man you're going to grow up to be. You've already proven that you're a great one."

"I just did what I had to."

"And that's a lot. It's more than a lot of people a lot older than you are capable of." Clark smiled. "Any father would be proud to have you as a son. I know I am."

"Dad? Do you think, after the holidays, we could go to Smallville for a couple of days? I'd kind of like to spend some time where you grew up."

"Of course. Hey, you don't know how to fish, do you?" Clark asked, grinning. "I'll have to take you to Holt's pond, show you how to hook some big ones."

"I'd like that." Chris nodded as Clark ruffled his hair. He may not have had a normal childhood, but he had a family. And he was looking forward to making the most of this new beginning.

[fascinationstreetmp3]

hi sorry if this has been asked before, but i've been looking on your faq page for aska regarding your gifs? especially how yo make them - I'd like to create some too but it's so complicated😅

i use photoshop (not paid for lmao i downloaded a version off here years ago from like. 2016) + kmplayer + if it's game gifs, i use nvidia shadowplay to record

i'll put this under a cut because of images/length

i open my footage in kmplayer, and use the frame extraction function over the timespan of the clip i want to gif. these are the settings for that:

normally for games, i record in 60fps and extract every 2nd frame, but sometimes i extract every frame and scroll through to delete duplicates made from stuttering etc. for everything else like movies/tv, i extract every frame. normally, i try to go for around 100 frames, but you can have more or less depending on your final gif size, and also you can always trim your gif down when you're in photoshop, but more frames = longer import time

then in photoshop i go to file > scripts > load files into stack and select all the frames i want to go into the gif i'm making

for the method i use, you need a version of photoshop with timeline animation, and make sure the timeline i displayed (window > animation)

now the next part has a lot of little steps, but they're fairly easy to get the hang of once you've done it enough. it's basically muscle memory for me now but i still do sometimes do things in the wrong order lmfao

anyway. the steps are as follows:

click 'create video timeline'

click the 3 little boxes in the bottom left

in the right menu, choose 'make frames from layers'

when thats loaded, open the menu again and choose 'reverse frames'

click the last frame and change from 5 seconds to no delay

make sure you choose 'forever' instead of 'once' in the bottom left

select all frames (you can select the last one, then scroll back to the first and shift click to select them all, or just click 'select all' in the menu, i'm just used to doing it the first way for some reason lmao)

in the right menu, choose 'convert to timeline'

then select all the layers (can use shift click again)

and finally go to filter > convert for smart filters

here's a very small shitty gif of the process for a visual aid (a gif of a gifmaking guide... wow)

now you have a gif, basically! but you still need to resize and sharpen and edit, etc. i've posted about some of the things i do before but not really in detail because i mess around every time and don't always do the same things. and you don't have to do much! just do whatever looks good to you :')

tumblr's gif dimensions are 540px width for wide gifs, 268px width for two small gifs, and three small gifs are 177px for the two outer gifs, 176px for the middle one (don't ask me why they did that)

once you're done with that, you can export the gif by going to file > export > save for web (legacy). these are usually my settings:

but i might change the colors to 264 if it's a smaller gif, or even to 64 if there are less colours and i can get away with it. for example in these gifs, i only used 64 colours since they were pretty brown/monochrome anyway, but something a lot more colourful would look terrible with 64 colours

the gif needs to be max 9.99MB, but if it goes over, you can always adjust it in the next step. once it's exported, i open it again

select all the frames and click the little arrow on one of the frames, then change the timing. i almost always use 0.05, but you can experiment with what you like the look of

then if the gif's over 9.99mb i just delete frames from the beginning and/or end until it's under the limit. then export it the same way as before (overwrite the old one or save it as a new file if you like) and you're done!

[livewiregoth]

Tamagotchi Uni Stuff Part 6

More parts I forgot to get to

Trying to clean up & get around to posts I need to work on & images to clean up(crop & adjust the angle due to being slightly tipped at times)

Care badges

Got some more care badges I've been working on

I kept spamming the snack while the tamas were in the baby stage since the baby stage doesn't effect trying to get certain characters. At some point I was so close to finishing the care badge that I just spammed it after reaching the adult stage.

At some point I found out that you could just spam the same outfit so I downloaded a counter app & kept at it. I only stopped because I didn't know it the screen for "You got a care icon" for the middle badge would happen if I got to the final badge so I stopped, left to get the screen then came back to continue.

By spam I mean go to the tamaverse fashion place, go to where your outfit is displayed then get the shirotama to show up so you can display your current outfit.(While also maybe button spamming to speed up the talking) Once it's displayed you speed threw the conversation before pressing the button to make shirotama show up so you can display again & repeat until you finish.(I had the counter count down for this)

I was waiting for this(meal care badge) one to happen but kind of forgot about it.

I don't really show the dialogue your tama gives you if they ask to leave but I thought I'd try getting a pic this time. I missed the first part but pretty much the full line is "My friends are calling me. It's sad but I have to say bye bye now!"

I've gotten this dialogue at least 3 different times because I've been too distracted to marry her & I'm choosing to marry my tamagotchi instead of let them go.

Tama Search

Found out there was a new special character so got pics of him today. It's Mametchi dressed up for the 28th anniversary of Tamagotchi. The only way to see him is to either be at the event or use the trick of renaming your phone hot spot to a certain code or something which I did.

These images were gotten using my ipad instead of the phone this time which kind of shows they're newer than the others. Still a little off & you can kind of see that I'm being reflected a little in the screen but still way better colors than on my phone.(Some I tried to adjust the coloring a little)

Here's the special character stickers, you only need to visit them once which means you won't see the other 2 stickers normal ones will show you.

Decided I'd show what I got so far involving the normal tama stickers. When possible I try biking around town & I did a lot of biking when I first messed with Tama Search & later when they added more characters. At the moment all I'm missing are seasonal characters for spring & finishing off the winter ones.

I don't plan to go outside in winter unless needed because I don't like the cold so why bike around for wifi signals.

So yeah I edited the date so my Tamagotchi thinks it's winter when I use tama search. As you can see I attempted to do spring as well but decided to end that idea after getting the rose character. It's not always fun to get everything sometimes & I'll be willing to go out more in spring when it's warm again so may as well so I guess despite not wanting to wait I'll save me something to do later on.

Anyway I got all the winter characters but Rednosetchi/Akahanatchi is the only one I got all 3 stickers for. I have two of Santaclautchi's stickers & I think I'm close to getting Amiamitchi's second sticker because I have two hearts with her. It's kind of hard to find her & Yukipatchi when I'm able to find seasonal characters because Rednosetchi & Santaclautchi show up more with Rednosetchi obvious being around more.

Tamaverse Arena Event

I wasn't sure if I could fit the images I had for this into the post cause I know I might be close to the image limit, luckily I was able to shoe in the images I wanted in the most with in the limits.

So an arena event happened a while back, I lost most of the time but enjoyed it.

This is an image of the only time I didn't keep getting 3rd plac

Here is the results screen & LOL THE CLOWN

At some point I lost track of how many days I played for & thought I only played 4 days. Later I found evidence that I played at the very least 5 days with one of them happening with gen10 before marrying her off. As you can see this image shows I played at least 2 days with gen10 & got 6 days so I was still able to get all the rewards in the end.

Here's Gen11 with the trophy, as you probably already know she's been carrying it around ever since I got it.

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[os-hyoideum]

the wh*res are fighting 19 (one-shot)

Part 19: THE DATE

Previous - here - Next

masterlist

(this, perhaps, can be read seperately, so if you you wanna check it out, but nit the SMAU, then go on 😉)

a/n: Ok, it took me a long time, but I had a lot of uni work and it's also almost 5k words 🙃 Like, I can pull the standard SMAU texts out of my ass in an hour sometimes, but this? Nah-ah, I like writing, but I'm mostly slow. (but I will write out the ending too) Since the format is different, I'm putting content warnings on this (outside of the ones on the matserlist). Again, it's an AU so I will write Touya as bitchy or soft as I please, and I take no criticism for it 💅 (now watch me destroy them after some nice time - if you see this no you don't)

THE SHOT IS UNDER THE CAT

WORDCOUNT: 4878

CONTENT: hero!AU (Dabi/Touya is a hero), OOC, Y/N is awkward at feelings (cringe), lack of safety equipment (sledgehammers), romantic arson (just a bit), cursing, tatted up/pierced Touya, Touya rides motorcycle

I really hope you gonna enjoy it, cause I enjoyed writing it and I think it's alright!

You looked up from your phone to see the place where you were to meet Touya. As a first part of his date plan, he invited you to a small café that looked almost like a bookshop from outside. On the windows hung colorful fairy lights (although turned off, due to it being bright outside) and some handmade paper decorations. It truly was a nice place, but quite an unusual choice, considering it was Touya who chose it; a bit too wholesome perhaps, but who were you to judge.

After making sure that the address you arrived at was the correct one, you stopped under a tree to get some shade from the warm sun rays. You started to look around, seeing people, some of them in a rush, some enjoying the nice weather, while leisurely walking to their mysterious destinations. Unfortunately, one face was oddly familiar. Standing on the opposite side of the road was an ordinary looking man in dark clothing. Looking straight into your eyes, he moved towards the crosswalk and, in a very relaxed manner, directed his steps towards you. 

You tensed up, ready for anything. It wasn't a good omen to see him right there, right now. He was sent there as a warning and it was apparent in his intense gaze and every little calculated move. Also, because you knew how the gods' machine works. 

After barely a few seconds, the unnamed man stopped right in front of you, leaving precisely one and a half meter of space between your bodies. Perfectly straight back, relaxed face features, hands in sight. It didn't seem as though he was there to attack or cause trouble (any bigger than his presence alone already was), but you knew better than to let your guard down. Staring him down, you waited patiently for his words.

“Hello, number Four,” he said with a slight underline of contempt in his voice.

“What do you want?” You looked around to check if any unwanted attention was on you two. It wasn’t really necessary considering both of you looked like ordinary civilians, but, at the end of the day, it’s better to be aware of one’s surroundings.

The man shifted his weight slightly, taking half a step closer.

“You know your little paradise won’t last long.” He exclaimed and smiled cynically. “Or have you, perhaps, forgotten?”

“Fuck off.” With a cold voice and a cold gaze, you ended the short exchange. The man did not move, however. He stood, still with an annoyingly straight back, in front of you and looked both harmless and ready to leap at you, had he deemed it necessary.

The stare off was short lived. A few seconds later you felt a presence coming from behind you and the man was pushed away by Touya, who came just in time to hear the end of your conversation. He looked a bit concerned, but stared at the mysterious person with a hard gaze and little bit of blue flame coming from the corners of his mouth.

“She told you to fuck off, so go and scurry away.”

Unbothered, the man didn’t pay any attention to this sudden event. He seemed even amused by it to some extent.

“I see you got yourself-” he glanced quickly towards Touya, who stood right next to you “a dog.”

Already annoyed before by the sheer presence of this man, now you felt your blood boil. WIthout thinking much, you leapt towards him and harshly grabbed the collar of his shirt. You heard someone close-by whisper with a scared voice, but you paid no mind to it.

“Fuck. Off.” You started, accentuating the words and putting as much venom into them, as you could muster. “Go and crawl at their feet like the pathetic nobody that you are.”

You saw a change in his eyes. No longer emotionless, he seemed irritated, which filled you with a bit of sadistic pride. He forcefully pulled your hands away and shoved you back. Then brushed his shirt like nothing happened and, just before turning around and going away said:

“You are the same. Everyone who touches the Olymp is.”

Finally alone with your still-just-a-friend, you turned around to face him. Having brushed off the encounter, you smiled at Touya, first a little fake, but seeing him made you happy enough to be genuine after just barely a second. On the other hand though, he still seemed rather concerned with the strange turn of events. 

“Who was that?”

“He’s a colleague... from work.” Your answer didn’t lessen Touya’s worry. His brows furrowed, while he decided to press a bit more.

“From work? He’s… a hero?”

You stood right in front of him and lifted your arm, putting the thumb between his brows, watching him relax slightly, as you caressed the crease in his skin.

“From before.” It was a diplomatic answer, both a lie and a truth. You knew Touya wasn’t stupid and would get to the truth sooner or later, but for now he seemed to let it go, so you changed the topic. “So, I must ask. Why… a cafe? I would be more inclined to think you’d take me to a boxing ring or something.”

Touya smiled at your teasing tone, but did not answer. He just turned around and started walking towards the entrance of the place. He stopped and held the door for you, still standing next to the tree, a few meters away. 

“You coming?”

You looked at him unamused by his lack of answer, but went inside. It was pretty and cozy, which didn’t match with his more edgy vibe, but you just brushed it off and sat down on a plush armchair in the corner. You put your elbows on the table and propped your head on your palms, looking as Touya took his jacket off and threw it on the back of his chair. You started to closely admire the tattoos adorning both of his arms, from the hands to his shoulders (and even further, as you already knew).

“Both your tattoo and hand kink are showing, baby.” 

He sat down and looked at you with a teasing glint in his beautiful eyes. You leaned back, crossed one of your legs over the other and put your arms up, in a gesture of surrender, but then looked at him accusingly. 

“That’s not my fault that you’re a harlot. You’re basically putting yourself on display for me, so really, it’s on you. You whore.” 

“You got me, but it’s only for you.”

Touya laughed then and stood up to buy you both a coffee. You sat still, waiting and looking around. When your eyes landed on the discarded jacked, you stood up to take it. A simple black jean jacket, quite thin to be suitable for the warm weather. Holding it by the collar, you brought it closer to your face and inhaled the smell of the perfume lingering on the fabric. You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it wasn’t too strong and you had to admit it was one of the best smells you knew, especially with the mix of natural scent of Touya’s body.

The owner of the jacket came back with the drinks a few minutes later and saw you with the piece of clothing.

“A little thief today, are we?”

You took one last whiff of the jacket and put it down.

“It smells nice. Maybe I should buy this perfume for myself.”

Touya looked up from his coffee.

“You want my perfume?”

“As I said - it’s nice.” You shrugged and saw him smirk.

“I can give you mine if you want to smell like me so badly.”

“Hmm…” You hummed and leaned forward a bit, “Well, I wouldn’t mind smelling like you.”

You took your cup and started to slowly drink, while looking into Touya’s eyes. Something in them made you feel strange, perhaps it was the softness with which he took you in. 

When sunshine fell on him from between the window decorations, he reminded you of some kind of angel, eyes almost glowing, silver piercings glistening; the sun accentuated every little shadow on his face, but, at the same time, made him look really delicate.

Touya’s gaze went down and your thought moved to the back of your mind. He adjusted his position on the chair before speaking.

“I guess I can tell you why the cafe, which you found, oh so surprising, I don’t know why.” He paused for a second to narrow his eyes at you. “I’ve heard you wanted a “normal” date, whatever the hell that means.”

“Wha-,” your eyes widened with mock surprise, “Did Shiggy snitch on me?”

“Please, he didn’t have to. It’s not like you asked all your friends for advice. So I decided to take you somewhere… classic, if you will.”

You crossed your arms on your chest and rolled your arms, then pointed an accusatory finger at your companion.

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

“Me? Never.” Obvious sarcasm on his part. “But I have one more place that I want to take you later. Perhaps more to your standards.”

Now you felt a bit guilty that he might have thought you didn’t like it. He didn’t seem so, but you preferred to explain either way.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate it… it’s just…” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect something so… usual? Common? Normal, heh.”

“I know you’re just awkward, but let’s relax and enjoy ourselves.”

And so you did, talking about many different things for a few hours.

***

You put your index finger on your lips, pondering on something for a moment.

“Isn’t it going to be, you know… the anniversary soon? Of your mom’s divorce, I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Touya nodded.

“Damn, happy birthday then.” You brought your cup to your lips like you didn’t just say… that. But Touya lifted his eyebrows and stared at you unsure.

“What?” You just shrugged and he sighed, “Nevermind then. Happy birthday to mom.”

A few seconds of a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The hushed voices of the people around filled your ears; they mixed together, providing a nice background noise. 

“So… how’s you dad?” You quirked an eyebrow at Touya’s surprised expression.

“You want to talk about my… dad? Of all things?”

“Well… I’m just asking! And you know… since he “sucks ass” does he also eat it?” You smiled stupidly, but he just stared with a deadpan. “Okay, stupid, I admit.”

“We have family therapy, so it’s not that bad. Though, the old mad does deserve the bullying.”

You agreed and made a toast with your drink to Touya’s words.

***

“Excuse me!?” Touya exclaimed loudly, “You did what!?”

You put an index finger to your lips trying to shush him, while a few other people looked in your direction, some with curiosity, others with disapproval.

“It wasn’t that bad…” You looked apologetically at some of the patrons. “It’s not like I died.”

Touya stared at you in shock for a good few seconds, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He was almost at a loss of words.

“What- not like she died! Fuckin-” He groaned and dramatically clutched his shirt on his chest. “You’re killing me! You’re killing your father!”

You snorted at his statement. Well, a flair for the dramatics was in his repertoire, after all.

“Don’t you mean ‘Daddy’?” You said with an amused smile and added with a tinge of irony: “Or do you prefer ‘father’ now?”

Touya did not find it funny (or at least, he didn’t let it show on the outside, if he did). He cupped his mouth with one hand, looking to the side, as to ponder on something.

“You know what?” He directed his gaze at you. “I might have to rethink the idea that dating you would be so nice. Like, you… fucking dumbass.”

Ah, concerned Touya, pretty sweet, you had to admit, but there really wasn’t a reason for him to worry.

“Keigo was with me then.” You stated matter of factly.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I am going to talk with that bastard too… no heroing with Keigo for you!”

You seriously didn’t think that he would be so concerned about the whole ordeal. After all, it was in the past, nothing really happened and if it would have happened, then well… you wouldn’t be here to discuss it.

You smiled softly.

“I don’t think you have any say in this.”

You chuckled, when Touya very aggressively took a sip.

“Jumping off the building… Who fucking does that!?” Oh no, the stare of disapproval.

“Keigo.”

“Because he has WINGS!”

“Yeah, and he caught me because of them!” You paused for a moment and thought for a moment about it. “Though I actually wasn’t sure he would, I mean… you know. He IS quite strong though.”

Touya actually looked like he was ready to end it all right then and there.

“You… didn’t know if he would catch you?” He articulated very slowly, slightly squinting his eyes at you. “And you still jumped?”

“Yup! You know, the adrenaline, fight or flight… I chose flight obviously.” You immediately saw that your cheerful carelessness and (an amazing) joke were nor appreciated, as he looked at you with a blank face, complete deadpan.

“I think, sooner or later, I’m gonna have a heart attack because of you.”

To that, you just cackled and reassured him that you would try not to die in a near future.

***

“Sooo… My sweet Touya, my favorite Todoroki.” He braced himself for whatever you wanted to throw at him, while you shot him a suggestive look. “When are you going to do a new tattoo?”

Oh, he already knew where this was going.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?” 

“You know…” You acted as if mulling on your idea and tilted your head to the side. “If you need some company…”

Touya sighed and just decided to get to the point.

“Do you wanna go with me?”

“Oh my god, can I?” You grinned and flicked your wrist. “You don’t have to!”

“Ok, then I’ll go alone.” He checked his phone, feigning disinterest, and took a quick look at you to see the hand still in the air and a very surprised expression on your face, that turned almost offended a second later.

“You can’t take it away from me! I’ll have you know, I have my rights.”

“I’m not taking anything away, since I never before said that you could go with me. You just always do.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your knees and did a fake sniff, knowing fully well he didn’t mind your presence… anywhere, really. “You don’t want me there?”

“Well, that-” he smirked slightly, “I never said.”

“So you’re just making a fool out of me then, I see how it is.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. He just laughed

“You already do it yourself pretty well.”

You gasped loudly with a hand on your chest.

“The audacity! You… how dare you! If you’re gonna be bitchy, I’ll fuck your sister, I will. Don’t try me.”

Touya rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you though?” He seemed unconvinced, you wondered why. “Honestly, I thought you did it already. You were going out with her for what? Two months? That’s long… for your standard.”

“Nooo, I didn’t… really, I did not.” Then a different thought popped up in your head. “Won’t it be weird that IF we… become a couple, potentially, and I would, hypothetically, meet your family somewhere, you know, by chance and all. That I am Fuyumi’s ex, I mean.”

He furrowed his brows to digest your question. 

“You think about that?” He smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “That’s cute of you.”

“BABY STEPS, PLEASE.” You loudly exclaimed, avoiding Touya’s eyes, to which he chuckled.

“Okay, just teasing you, baby.” His gaze softened. “But do you really care about that? What others think?”

“Uh…” you sighed, “I don’t know. Not really? But kind of.”

“It’s okay, baby steps, like you said.”

He leaned forward over the table, took your hand into his and soothingly caressed it with his thumb. Your heartbeat quickened a bit and, surprised at that, you just stared at Touya’s slowly moving finger. Feeling were never easy nor were they particularly good, but it felt so nice.

***

Suddenly you saw a flicker of colorful lights next to you, seeing that the decorations on the window were turned on. Looking out the window, you noticed how dark it became. The street neon lights were illuminated everywhere, people moving in all directions to unwind after hard days of work during the week. You were almost shocked at how fast the time went by.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

Touya hummed in agreement and, without saying anything, stood up to pay the bill. Earlier, you almost fought him to split it, but you came to an agreement that another time (“Oh, you already want to go out with me again?”, he teased) you would be the one paying. A moment later he came back, put his jacket on and you both exited the lovely cafe.

“So… where are we going?” You asked after following him in a completely opposite direction, to which you came from earlier that day.

“You’ll see.” 

Ah, so much for getting information out of Mr Todoroki.

With a sigh, you just decided to follow him in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, like it usually tends to be, for which you were grateful. He wasn’t pushy, let you do things at your own pace, so you felt… comfortable.

A moment later you felt him grab your hand and let him intertwine your fingers together. Again, the annoying feeling in your chest reappeared. You would need to get a grip on yourself, if this was to continue. The evening was getting quite chilly so Touya used his quirk to make his palm warmer, but you almost took your hand away. You knew that it was bad for him, especially without his support items, even though he was able to control it, almost to perfection. Before you were able to get away, his skin quickly went back to its natural cooler state with a light squeeze to your hand.

Going through the busy street, you were able to observe people differently than usual. On patrols, you were mostly checking out dark alleyways, some abandoned or suspicious buildings, sometimes sites on the outskirts of the city; being able to, sometimes, take in the lively energy of the crowd was enjoyable.

Touya stopped after turning into some calmer sideroad. He took his hand from yours to grab a helmet and then helped you put it on. 

“We taking your baby for a spin?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm, nice.”

After putting on his own helmet he sat down on the motorcycle, waiting for you to do the same. You noticed a new paint job on the matte black surface of the machine. On the sides were done shining blue flames, very on brand for him. You liked it. 

You sat down behind Touya taking a hold of his waist, when he revved the engine and slowly drove away from the busy part of the city. Expertly maneuvering the streets, soon enough you were driving on the outskirts, where barely anyone was out. You looked at the changing scenery over his shoulder, noting the road you were taking seemed familiar. The trees surrounding you from both sides made the night look a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. The city was far behind already.

You squeezed him just a tiny bit stronger and put your head on his shoulder, careful not to knock the helmets on each other. Loud howling of the wind and the noise of the engine were a surprisingly calming combination, which you have discovered long ago, the first time Touya took you for a drive.

Finally, the motorcycle slowed down. You passed the old busted metal gate and entered a site surrounded by a tall chain link fence, made from wire much thicker than usual to make it more sturdy. The place was situated on a flat field, a bit away from the trees. You could barely see the outline of the big city from where you were.

The space where he parked was relatively empty, save for an occasional piece of metal or glass laying here and there. The only building was a huge square block, bare walls outside “decorated” only by identical windows with perfectly measured spaces in between them. The inside should be relatively empty. What ought to be there are only some vacated rooms and stairs leading from the ground, through three stories, to the roof.

You got off the motorcycle and took the helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. Taking a closer look around, you notice a pair of sledgehammers and a can of gasoline next to the gate of the building.

“An abandoned Commission site, huh?” You asked rhetorically, but Touya looked surprised at that.

“How do you know what this place is?” 

You decided to ignore him and just pointed to the items you noticed.

“You planning to kill me here or something?” You said with a smile, looking at him. He quirked an eyebrow and moved to pick up the sledgehammers and offered you one.

“Birdbrain said we can trash this place.” You took the tool weighing it in your hand with ease.

“Of course he did.” You glanced at the gasoline. “Did he also say we can play with fire?”

Touya smirked, lifted his hand towards his face and lighted his pinky finger with blue fire. He then moved the hand more towards you, letting you blow it out.

“With me, it’s always playing with fire.”

“I knew you were an arsonist at heart, Touya.” You chuckled lightly, but your voice quickly died down when you looked at him.

He looked at you with an intensity that instantly hypnotized you to focus only on his eyes, which seemed to glow slightly. The only source of light was the moon and the stars in the sky so you were surrounded by harsh shadows and an occasional speck of moonlight.

The gaze with which he stared at you almost made you uncomfortable, because it seemed like he was able to read every little dirty secret you held deep within. A quick thought, that maybe he actually could read you like that, crossed your mind. 

He moved a step towards you and brought his hand to grip your chin. Not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to feel that he could, if he wanted to. Exciting.

He pulled your face a little, so that his lips were right next to your ear. You felt his hot breath on your skin, when he asked:

“Aren’t you?” 

You felt him move his mouth across your skin, from your ear right to your lips. The grip on your chin lessened as he moved his hand to hold the back of your neck instead. It wasn’t anything new to kiss him, but it felt a lot more intimate this time. No force behind it, no rush, nothing inherently sexual; just softness, an interesting contrast to his intense eyes and touches.

He moved away, just enough to speak up, your noses still touching.

“Come on.” He let go completely and moved to grab the gasoline, before entering the building.

You stood in place a moment longer, rendered speechless and motionless by the emotions you felt. The loud hammering in your chest was almost deafening. Not good, get a fucking grip. Without a word, you followed Touya inside.

After a few moments (when the blood pump finally decided to calm down), you glanced around. As you thought, a big empty space, at least on the ground floor. Since the electricity had been shut off a long time ago, the only light was coming from the moon and your phone flashlight. You went after him towards the stairs to the first floor, where a space was filled a little bit more by the rooms dividing the place.

Touya stopped next to a wall to one of the former offices and put his things down, before taking your phone to light your blank canvas, ready for destruction.

“Swing.” And so you did.

You braced yourself against the floor for stabilization and took a wide swing, from behind your back. The hammer made an impact with the wall and with ease penetrated it to the other side. Forcefully, you teared it out, making the hole two times wider.

Oh, it was so liberating. The destruction and chaos of this place would bring you much pleasure.

With a laugh, you took a next swing, and then another, and another. Both of you went on a rampage, destroying what you could in this deserted place. All of the windows broken (some of them with your fist covered in a rug found somewhere on the ground), the inside walls full of holes, doors ripped out of its hinges. The place filled only with dust, debris, and the laughter and screams of both of you.

After you had enough, you ended up lying on the roof. Touya’s head right next to yours, although upside down, as he laid in the opposite direction.

You stared at the clear night sky, admiring millions of stars visible that night. It was always an otherworldly experience to be able to see them. It made everything seem so insignificant in the comparison to the vastness and beauty of space.

Touya, however, was not looking at the sky. His eyes were focused solely on you. He liked the peace and calm visible on your face. You felt his gaze on the side of your face and turned your head to the side, to also look at him.

You moved your hand to push his hair back. It was always really soft to the touch.

“Your roots are showing.” You said quietly, looking at the white part of his hair. He just hummed with eyes closed, marveling at the soft touch on his head.

Before he could fall asleep here, you took your hand and sat up cross-legged. You turned around to look at him, still lying down and still looking at you.

“Didn’t you want to commit arson?”

He perked up at that and got up, but stopped you, when you moved to do the same.

“Wait a second and don’t move.”

You stayed seated and just observed as Touya took the can and started to pour the gasoline on the roof, away from the stairs, in some kind of pattern. When he finished, he motioned you with his hand to come to him.

Ah, so the gasoline heart then. You weren’t really surprised by it, but still laughed, although more at the weirdly proud expression Touya had on his face.

“It’s really cheesy,” you paused for dramatic effect, “I love it.” 

You kissed him lightly on the cheek, to which he froze for a second. Oh, could it be that this time you were the one to render him speechless? After the initial shock, he beamed at you with his stupidly wide grin that sometimes appeared on his face. Though, after a moment it faltered and he grabbed your upper arm. You could pull away, if you wanted, but you just let him hold you.

“Who was that man today?” This again. He seemed worried, more than anything, which you didn’t like that much, cause he could drill it out of you, if he truly wanted. So you decided to avoid his eye, looking in the other direction.

“I told you already… it’s a colleague from work.”

“You know I don’t buy it.”

“I know, but… it’s the truth.” You looked him straight in the eyes, so he would know that it was not a lie.

“I hope you know you can tell me anything.” You wished you could.

“Give me the matches.” He knew that for that moment that would be it, so he let go of your arm with a sigh and took out a small box out of his pocket.

You took it and moved to the other side of the gasoline heart.

You wiped your teeth with your hand, to which Touya raised his eyebrows, but when you took one match out of the box and lit it directly on your teeth, he did look impressed by your trick.

Touya lit his blue flame and both of you set ablaze the gasoline. The fire traveled from both sides, to meet in the middle and create more green-like color. From behind the flames, you were able to see just his silhouette. A beautiful, although terrifying (to some) imagery. 

When the fire started spreading, you quickly moved to leave this place behind. 

Again on the motorcycle, tightly embracing Touya’s torso, you looked back to stare at the rising flames. Colors mixed with each other, creating a picture any painter would be proud of.

Playing with fire was always thrilling, you just hoped none of you would get burned.

TAGLIST

@the-fandoms-georgie, @fanworrior, @gingerunicorn13, @theunicornnamedearl, @dabi-sunflower, @anniebromberg, @bakugouswh0r3, @ddsweetie

[jjk-anime-horray]

Call of Spirits

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Spirited Away Au

Previous

Chapter four:

The most interesting smell that ever has invaded your nostrils is probably the musk that the radish spirit that was currently taking up 90% of the elevator was giving off right now. The odor itself was a weird mix of unwashed vegetables and a sopping mop making you the perfect amount of uncomfortable as you currently were squished against the wall of the lifting box with Kugisaki. Who was just as uncomfortable as you were, and by the sheer look of disgust and discomfort on her face contemplating all of her life's decisions at the current moment.

While you could clearly hear Nobara bickering under her breath phrases like 'of course it's always customer first' and 'stupid radish could have had his own ride but nooooo'; she could clearly hear your heart beating faster than the fingers of a pianist playing Rimsky-Korsakov's flight of the bumblebee. Or to put it quite simply fast enough where your heart might actually pound a hole into your ribcage.

"Psk, hey you." The fiery orange haired girl whisper quips at you to get your attention.

"What?" You whisper quip back at her in response.

"Is it the raddish man invading your space that's making you nervous, or are you nervous to meet the boss?"

"It's a bit of both honestly."

"Alright, well, I would try to calm those nerves because quite frankly your stop is next."

"Oh okay."

Right on schedule in alinement with the end of your conversation the mystical but iconic ding of the wooden metallic elevator marked the arrival and ascension to your desired floor. The distinctive rise then fall under your feet confirming the notification.

With another iconic ding you swiftly exited the elevator by shoving your way through a couple of limbs and a whole lot of radish flesh to meet the boss who you knew absolutely nothing about, other than that they seemed scary.

Finally with one last push off of the white rough stomach of the radish man, the elevator doors finally came to a close just as you stumbled into the supposed office of the person you are meeting.

To start off, to you, it seemed like this person never got out of their goth phase in high school because the majority of the coloration for the room was purple and black with the last five or so percent being navy. Gloomy would a an understatement considering the only thing lighting the room was short wicked candles.

Interestingly enough, the one place in the room that was supposed to be the most vibrant and teeming with light, and or the fire place, was actually the darkest and the most ominous about of all of the office's nooks and crannies. In fact, you couldn't even see the back of it which was very peculiar.

With the curiosity enough to kill a cat filling your mind you quickly waltz over to the place in the rooming daunting on your mind. Letting your self inspect the wood burner your eyes traced around the cold stone trim of the mechanism, ultimately leading your leading your full blown pupils to let in more light at the darkness of the cut out box in the wall the a chimney.

The uncomfort you felt in the tiny elevator was nothing compared to the events that happened next. Instantly your eyes contracted into little slits as you forcefully have to stumble back from the fire place as it burst into flames along with every light giving instrument bursting into vivid life all the while you try to adjust your in pain eyes to the new life reverberation happening around you.

Then suddenly with the burst of light illuminating the room a short old man walked in. Grey haired, stalky, and grumpy in stature he wore traditional robes over some sort of jeans that couldn't be seen, only the outline, and he used a guitar as a cane.

"There have been rumors swindling around in the hotel, honestly I was a little disappointed to find out that they were true, yet here you are making the effort to see me, but why?" He gruffed out in an old gravely voice.

"I'm here to find a job."

"A job huh? You have spirit i'll give you that but you're human."

"I may be human, but I can still work."

"Your diligence isn't the problem, you're smell is, it's horrendous, no one is going to want to smell it."

"Well I can work in the boiler room were no one else will be there!"

"There only needs to be one boiler person, are you suggesting you take yaga's job?"

"Well......no."

"My thought exactly, so leave."

"What?! Why I really need a job."

Then out of the blue a rushing breeze swifted across all of the surfaces in the room leaving a wake of flying papers, only then to reveal the new presence of black haired spirit Megumi that you've come to know.

"Well if it isn't my usual little problem." The older man scoffs at the younger spirit. "What do you want?"

"You requested to see me sir, I have" He gestured to the lump in his pocket with is hand lifting it up "what you asked for."

"A right that, just go put in the back and leave i'm dealing with something right now." Which he clearly meant you.

"Sorry to intrude sir." The younger spirit quips, but he wasn't done speaking. "I couldn't help but over hear the last bit of the conversation between the two of you. Even though they're a human we both know their smell is already fading, and it will continue to fade as they keep eating our food. Just a thought."

The young spirit then swooshed out of the office room as quickly as he came, leaving the small package behind out of your. Also leaving the older spirit in reconsidering though that was clearly displayed on his face as turned back to meet your face. Then with pulling out a piece of paper and a pen he gestured to you.

"Come and right your name."

Doing as he said you just over and snagged the paper and pen from his wrinkly hand. Tightening your grip, trying to make your pen-men ship as neat as possible when gliding your hand in strokes across the scrap. Writing your name, (Y/N). Right after the man in front of you magically whipped the paper into his hand once for the read the piece's contents.

"(Y/N), lovely name." With that notion the ink on the paper started to change, more specifically the blackness started to lift of the paper and into the man's hand. "But from now on you'll be known as Sen, kugisaki will meet at the door and give you directions again.

"Wait that it's! I-

You couldn't finish your sentence because as soon as he stopped speaking he flew you back into the shaft in which you came, shutting the elevator's doors the second you entered the contraption, not even giving you a single second to do a double take on what just happened.

[waywardfangirl]

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

[four-pages-zine-blog]

Issue 2: Interview with Hannah Depop: @guthball

Q: What brought you to Depop? How long have you had your shop? Did you/Do you sell anywhere else?

A: Depop appealed to me because it's so clear that its basis is in community. I’ve been able to connect, collaborate and create for cool people I might’ve never clicked with otherwise, and I actually, really, truly cherish that. Plus, the layout and features are so user-friendly, there’s never been an intimidation factor. I created an account about two years ago. And I’m still here, maybe just because they added the video feature...

The reception of my art from depop users has been so gratifying. I would not have immersed myself in resin so extensively without that encouragement. It wasn’t long before I joined depop that I began experimenting with the medium; I loved the look, but had no idea what its creation entailed. So I took in a few tutorials, bought a kit, and have grown, or attempted to, from there.

The entrepreneurial bug bit me early. My mom owns and operates a drycleaners, and has allowed me to sell there since I was a kid. It began with hand-drawn bookmarks, friendship bracelets, that kind of thing. Now, I have a display of resin magnets and keychains there. I do local shows here and there, too. Mostly for fun, profit’s never promised. It’s always worth it, though, just to gauge reactions to my work- I love answering questions on process, seeing little kids play with the magnets, or experiencing the moment someone takes a closer look at something I made and really GETS it.

Q: (Your magnet faces make me so happy to look at!) How long have you been making them for, and what inspired the making of these characters?

A: I’m so glad you enjoy the face magnets! They are a blast to make. I just looked through my photos to see how long ago I made my first- it was back to September of 2016. Wow. That piece now resides with my sister, totally forgot it.

A lot of my work is influenced by quirks in process and material, the expression pieces are no exception. At their inception, I’d done a few projects with encapsulated googly eyes before, and had a bunch of sequins I'd bought to make flower accents. It was around then that I realized that the plastic formed packaging from my jewelry findings could be repurposed as a smooth, glossy tile mold, in a range of sizes PERFECT for magnets and other accessories. Toony faces have always been my go-to in drawing, and these introduced a way to marry my illustration style with resin work. I've put together so many goofy lookers now, made out of all sorts of materials, and set in all kinds of molds. I've refined my technique, but still never really know how (/if!) they’ll come together until they’re popped out. The features are all cut and glued, then layered in backwards, so I don’t have a great view as they cure. Pieces can shift, bubbles can sneak their way in, some materials distort when submerged in resin. It can be a challenge to make sure nothing's too out of place, but the glitches can be where the character sneaks in.

I mostly improvise the face designs, but sometimes, just to shake up the procedure, I doodle ideas out beforehand. There’s definitely inspiration from drag, from cartoons, from geometry, texture, and color. I know there’s one with a pout I ripped straight from a photo of my sister- I'm into the idea of full-on custom magnetic portraiture, but no one’s come to me requesting their likeness in sequins and googly eyes yet. The fact that kids think they're fun is also a huge influence: that motivates me to make them as kooky and colorful as I can. There is a selection that made it to a preschool classroom, and it’s been reported back to me that all the kids like to play and even fight over them. I love that!

Q: Do you have any favorite artists that inspire you?

A: She’s inspired by way too many artists!!! A few off the top of my head: Keith Haring, Hattie Stewart, Jillian Evelyn, Betsey Johnson, Parker Day, Shantell Martin, Siobhan Gallagher, Kendra Dandy, Tuesday Bassen, Erté, Klimt, Kay Nielsen, Man Ray, Chagall, Dalí, Hirschfeld, Picasso, Gary Baseman, Kenny Scharf, Neal Levin. If that’s not a weird and wide enough swath... I follow hundreds, if not thousands, of creators of all sorts on instagram. Admittedly extensive, but a wonderful pool of inspiration to dip into.

I have always had an interest in the arts, and (…aquarius here) make a point to be very open to all sorts of visuals. I’m content to take everything in, and very much, like, “like like like”-- it’s a whole thing when I don’t care for something, but I try not to play critic so much. I’m normally drawn to really graphic work, yet down to take the time to appreciate subtleties as well. I gravitate toward what’s wacky, clever, bold, evocative, sparkly, dimensional… a lot of stark contrast as well, a lot of black and white. But also a lot of pink and kitsch. I'm a maximalist, I obsess. That might just be reflected in my work.

And, duh, I admire other resin artists. The medium is SO versatile and I love to see its limits stretched. I put a lot into distinguishing my style from others who create with resin, but there’s major inspo in what everyone else is coming up with! Shout out to my fellow resin-making depoppers :) I’d also like to mention Lauralee Benjamin (if you're not familiar, please change that immediately), who has found inventive ways to use my pieces as accents on her beautiful work. That collaboration is all thanks to depop, and has inspired me in ways I never could have expected.

Q:What is some of your process when you create? (Do you listen to music, create alone or with friends, where is your work space?)

A:Oh my god. It’s all over the place. A lot of my process is just seeing what I can get away with.

So much can go wrong; resin is a finicky substance. I employ a variety of techniques, many developed through trial and error. I try to create unique effects, or emulate things I’ve seen before in my own way. Many of my projects are worked in layers, transformed with each pour. It can be as simple as mixing a bunch of glitters together. Even that can be tricky, though! I can get very in my head about intricacies, and try to balance the detail-oriented with simpler projects, or whatever'll give me a break from the eyestrain. Most of my stuff comes from sitting down at my workspace, assessing my supplies, and sorting it out from there. Once I have a batch of resin mixed, it's a race to get it divided into colors and divvied into molds. At times it requires a lot of precision, and a willingness to just wait it out and see what’ll happen.

Tools and materials dictate much of the process. I have a few staples, but keep an eye out for new supplies just about everywhere. I get the biggest kick out of repurposing components that might’ve otherwise been trashed. Think broken jewelry, old cosmetics, sequin scraps, and single-use plastics. I intend to look into eco-resin and biodegradable glitters down the line; it’s a matter of cost and accessibility, but adjustments I find necessary, at least for my own sake, in continuing with this art form.

At the end of last year I cleared a space in my (creepy) basement as a studio. It’s kept a hectic mess, but… that’s my nature. I work alone, save for a few times my sister has joined me. Friends have been invited to try in the past, but considering resin is such a time-sensitive, kind of hazardous, sticky thing, it’s not a great group activity for the uninitiated.

I work to an, errr, eclectic mix of podcasts and music. A lot of Sondheim, disco, Comedy Bang! Bang! and CBC Radio 2.

Q: What is your favorite piece you've sold so far?

A: Oooh, toughie. The first that comes to mind is one of the first sequin trays I made- it was a really specific rainbow pattern inspired by a book cover. I also love the custom name necklaces; they always turn out so badass! In a few instances, I've made pieces used in photo shoots or performance. Those are extra special to me, too.

Q: Where do you want to go next with your art?

A: My art is going to morph. I want to hone my skill in areas beyond resin, and then find ways to blend the edges. I want to keep pushing, but know when to pull back. I wish to collaborate more, to find solutions I’ve not yet reached, to make some of my outlandish ideas a bit more tangible. I want to build a brand and learn to accrue my worth for once.

And, maybe, down the line, tile a room with a mosaic of resin faces.

Q: What is your favorite fashion era?

A: I love an outrageous 80’s moment.

Q: Do you do commissions?

A: I adore doing commissioned work, and have had so much fun on prior personalized pieces. I am currently open to fulfilling some custom requests, just DM me, whatever!

Visit Hanna's shop!

Depop.com/guthball

[araminthe-ispwitch]

I'm in love with a fairytale

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Yuri on Ice

Rating: K+

Pairing/s: past-Georgi Popovich/Anya

Summary:

Once upon a time, there was a man named Georgi Popovich. Somehow, his story is trying to compete for the title of "Greatest Romantic Tragicomedy of All Time."

Alright, here we go, my late birthday fic for my stupid emo son! (Still can't believe they made his b-day the 26th.)

As I've mentioned in The Accursed Tale of Viktor Nikiforov, Georgi's oneshot is the literal side of the song "Fairytale" by Alexander Rybak (y'all should really watch his live performance of this seriously you won't regret that handsome man). Whereas I've waxed lyrical on the life that Viktor had to choose for the career he has taken, I've... uh... pretty much just did a short play on Georgi and the disaster that was his love life during the anime.

But no worries. Remember that woman he went on a date with in Ep. 10? :D

Cross-posted in: AO3 (don’t bother with the FFNet version because FFNet rejects songfics so I had to edit out this poetic fiction of mine there—but as if that’ll make me stop writing them because of the music industries’ logic)

Important Stuff to Note: 1) This is a song fic, in which I've closely followed the lyrics to portray Georgi's life. Which means you really should watch/listen to "Fairytale" by Alexander Rybak. (not just because it's the greatest song of 2009 what are talking about)

2) Envision the structure and flow of this fic as an AMV about Georgi. Makes better sense considering how short this is compared to Viktor's oneshot, right?

3) Those lines centered, bolded, and italicized all together are the lyrics... and other stuff. ;D

4) A lot of short flashbacks in here, too.

5) This is not my usual writing style, oh no. But nevertheless, hope you enjoy and appreciate this minimalist approach I did for this oneshot.

6) Did you listen to the song yet? :v

I'm in love with a fairytale

Part 2 of the Two Sides of a Fairytale series

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who dreamed of romance.

He dreamed so hard.

Like, really, so damn hard.

All his life.

Oh, god, this boy...

Years ago, when I was younger

I kinda liked a girl I knew

Georgi adjusted his collar for the fifteenth time, straightening the lapels as he stood in front of his floor-length mirror. Everything must be perfect today.

It was just another date with his beloved, most precious Anya—their 13th date, actually!—but everything must still be perfect.

Georgi Popovich wouldn’t settle for anything less when it came to his one true love.

She was mine and we were sweethearts

That was then, but then it’s true

Georgi’s jaw fell and so did the bouquet he bought on the way to his date.

His Anya—his precious, most beautiful Anya—was in the arms of an interloper!

This cannot bE—

“ANYA! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY ANYA!”

He was about to hit the stranger where it really hurts, but then suddenly, his angelic Anya—

“Let go, you idiot!"

Three seconds on the leaf-covered ground later, Georgi looked up at his girlfriend with a flabbergasted look on his slapped face.

“A-Anya, my love, why are you—!”

“We’re through, Georgi.”

I’m in love with a fairytale

Even though it hurts

Georgi stared at his fallen bouquet. It hadn’t been trampled in the wake of the chaos that happened in the last few minutes, but Anya might as well have trampled on them the same way she trampled on his tender heart.

‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind

I’m already cursed

“ANYA, NO! IT CAN’T BE TRUE! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S BETTER THAN ME?!”

Every day we started fighting

Every night, we fell in love

Groaning, Georgi crossed out Procedure Number 16 on his list. He looked back at the tabs of articles open on his laptop as he repositioned the ice pack on his head.

Surely there was a way to get Anya back? She couldn’t possibly be satisfied with that oaf!

There must be a way.

No one else could make me sadder

But no one else could lift me high above

“Anya, my love, I—!”

“SECURITY!”

I don’t know what I was doing

When suddenly, we fell apart

“His theme is what?”

“Coach, don’t you think he’s getting way into this…?”

Georgi ignored the others as he repeated his routine on the rink. He knew they were all watching him and pitying him—largely because he’s been crying non-stop while practicing—but he won’t let their opinions get to him.

He’ll show that wretched woman!

Nowadays, I cannot find her

But when I do, we’ll get a brand new start

Georgi practiced with renewed vigor after hearing Yakov’s news. Viktor was gone! He was now the top skater they have and he has a shot at reaching the Grand Prix Finals!

Finally, he can show the world the fruits of his labor!

And he’ll get to rub his victory at stupid Anya’s face, too! Now she’ll regret dumping him!

I’m in love with a fairytale

The setting couldn’t be more perfect. Anya will also be competing here in China! What a marvelous way to display his intrinsically artistic program to the world!

Just she wait... He'll prove that those... those... stupid Instagram photos of her and him kissing don't mean a thing to him...!

Even though it hurts

I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth, and I’ll find you! I will cast an eternal curse on you!

‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind

Never mind! I’ll save you with a kiss right now, my princess!

I’m already cursed

Never mind… I will… take a break for… now…

She’s a fairytale, yeah

Georgi watched as Mickey landed another flawless jump. There was so much more emotion in his performance now that it wasn’t hard to deduce what he was skating for.

The scene tugged at his cold heartstrings and he had to smother a sob.

He promised himself that his Free Skate at the Cup of China was the last time he’d cry for her.

Even though it hurts

“And you are…?”

“Georgi! Georgi Popovich! You looked beautiful out there, Anya!”

“… Why, thank you~!”

‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind

“Dinner?”

“Y-Yes! My treat!”

“Hm… Why not?”

I’m already cursed

“Will… Will you be my girlfriend?!”

...

..

.

“Georgi! I’m so sorry!”

Teal-colored eyes blinked into focus as a familiar blonde woman came running towards him. “Ekaterina, are you alright?!” he asked, standing up with hands outstretched, ready to steady her if she wasn’t.

Ekaterina sat down on the park bench with an exhausted huff and flashed him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t think… it would take me so long…”

“You didn’t really have to hurry so much… I could have waited,” said Georgi with concern as he sat back down. Try as he might, he was too busy guiltily reminiscing what happened a year ago at this very same park anyway.

But Ekaterina just waved him off with a chuckle. “But I didn’t want you to wait.” When she peered up at his face with those sparkling gray eyes of hers, Georgi couldn’t find it in himself to chastise her any further—not when she looks so happy.

Why was she looking so happy?

“Here…” She then passed the small box she had brought to him.

“Hm? What’s this?”

Georgi’s eyes widened when he found a variety of sumptuous-looking cupcakes inside. “Try one,” Ekaterina urged.

He chose a cream-colored one and took a bite. “Oh, wow, these are delicious, Ekaterina! Where’d you buy them?”

“… I made them…”

Georgi had to thump his chest to avoid choking, but when he finally calmed down, he looked at Ekaterina like she had revealed herself to be an angel.

“Y-You did?! Really?!”    

The blonde looked down at her lap, but she was glowing red with pride and joy. “W-Well, I… I didn’t want to not bring anything for you like last time so…”

Georgi blinked in confusion. “Oh, you didn’t have to. I mean, I’m fine without anythi—”

“But it’s our date and I wanna bake something for you!” she cut him off loudly—before turning even redder as she realized what she had just squeaked.

Georgi, on the other hand, tried to still his thundering heart and chant to himself that he ought to take this new relationship slow. Because… Because…

He glanced at the beautiful woman next to him, fiddling with her bag’s zipper as she avoided his adoring gaze. Because this time, I want her to want to stay with me.

But it seems… he won’t need to worry much about that, he thought in awe as he took another cupcake.

“Thank you, Ekaterina… They’re really good!”

“O-Oh! Y-You’re welcome!”

“I guess this means you’d make a great housewife, then!”

“…!”

“Ack! Sorry! I-I… F-Forget I said anything!”

“N-No! It’s… It’s fine…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… Maybe I can make you some Stroganoff next time…”

“…! E-Ekaterina…!”

“Eh?! G-Georgi?! Are you alright?!”

… Crap, I’ve been cursed again.

The End. . . ?

Perhaps not.

But at least this little boy is still dreaming with all his heart.

A/N:

Okay, so unlike the other oneshot, this doesn't need much explanation 'cause, well... it's literally the song itself.

We can say that Georgi's been in love the fairytale that is Anya herself, yes. But my preferred symbolism here is that Georgi's been in love with the idea of love and romance itself. Honestly, I actually believe that the situation with Anya with hadn't been the first one. (Perhaps he had a crush that didn't do so well back then) With this, the chorus makes so much more sense: that even though Georgi's been hurt, he just loves it and wants it so much--almost like he's cursed--that he doesn't mind trying again, even if it means he might get hurt again. In conclusion, my son is a gutsy risk-taker and I just love him so much. (which is why i sprinkled this with comedy because he just inspires my funny bone so much)

I've taken the liberty of calling that blonde woman in Ep. 10 "Ekaterina" as a placeholder name, and I've gone ahead and interpreted a possible persona for her. I already have so many headcanons for her... Crossing my fingers that she's finally The One in S2... >~<

Also, if we'll compare my two oneshots in this series, Viktor's is more about his whole life while Georgi's is just specifically about his love life. AND Disclaimer: Just because Viktor's is longer doesn't mean he's my fave between the two, okay? :v

I'm gonna go ahead and announce this: if I do oneshots about these two again, Georgi will have more because he hasn't gotten his happy-ever-after yet (while Viktor already has Yuuri in canon lol). Also, why did I try to compare them with this songfic series? When Georgi has enough trouble being in Viktor's shadow? Simple. Georgi is supposed to be Viktor's foil in their story. By exposing Viktor's flaws and "ordinariness", Georgi shines more as a likeable and relatable character. Either way, I just hope what I wrote made you guys root for him more.

Belated happy birthday, my stupid son. Easy with the romancing, alright? :v

And with that, Two Sides of a Fairytale is finished. :)