#i really like this though i do have some notes for if i ever redo it (like say for a fic 👀)

[summerlimeismethebrony]

[Image Description: an 11-panel comic page on paper in which Laurice Deauxnim/Larry Butz and Maya Fey from Ace Attorney sit side-by-side. Laurice has tight posture and an uncomfortable look on his face, while Maya is looking around in an uninterested manner; a large textbox labeled "Waiting for Nick" points at the two of them. Laurice looks over at Maya with a sidelong glance, grimacing. Laurice turns away, asking: "...Do you hate me?" Maya bursts out: "WHAT? Why would I hate you?!" ["What" is in all caps to indicate volume.] Laurice flinches away from the outburst. Laurice begins to explain, saying: "Elise", but cutting himself off and shaking his head, starting again with a downcast expression: "Your mom was my mentor." ["Your mom" is underlined to indicate emphasis.] Maya leans forward on her hands and tilts her head in confusion. Laurice continues, waving his hand in the air: "Like, she taught me how to be a better person, to— to grow up, y'know?" Laurice looks back at Maya, his palm toward her, with tears in his eyes, and says: "But you... She was your mom, and you never got that." ["mom" is underlined to indicate emphasis.] Maya looks at Laurice with concern, as he says: "I wouldn't blame you, if you hated me." End Image Description]

I think they should be allowed a Real Conversation, actually

(And some close-ups, bc I forgot just how energy-intensive making a comic page is, and I ended up working really hard on this messy, self-indulgent little comic)

[covenofagatha]

A Helping Hand

You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.

Word count: ~3100

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)

Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well. 

“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions. 

And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have. 

“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book. 

Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”

You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words. 

The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers. 

You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals. 

And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class. 

Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul. 

But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study. 

“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could. 

And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch. 

“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea. 

But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes. 

You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them. 

Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms. 

You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk. 

“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.

She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks. 

“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it. 

You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you. 

“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact. 

You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.

You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open. 

“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink. 

“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan. 

She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed. 

You’ve never felt this way before. 

“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore. 

Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”

You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down. 

She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”

Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?” 

“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her. 

“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump. 

You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked. 

The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it. 

“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”

You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat. 

“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts. 

You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...” 

She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?” 

You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin. 

“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins. 

“You want me to help you?” 

Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.” 

“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.” 

You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.” 

Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.” 

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours. 

You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt. 

“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down. 

“Please, professor, touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower. 

Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says. 

“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum. 

“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?” 

“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too. 

“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing. 

“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone. 

Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling. 

“How are you feeling now, baby girl?” 

Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.” 

Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?” 

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on. 

Your mouth falls open. 

She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning. 

“Wait, can you-” 

She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.” 

You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.” 

She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.” 

She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you. 

She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.” 

You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips. 

“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.” 

Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good. 

“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.” 

Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation. 

“Are you ready?” Agatha asks. 

“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in. 

Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size. 

“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.” 

“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.” 

Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her. 

“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp. 

“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?” 

“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble. 

“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again. 

Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them. 

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”

She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.” 

[nariism]

to the ends of our world — i. rin

academic rivals to lovers + "i could kiss you right now!" + "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

synopsis. all rin said was that he would help you with calculus. he didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

wc. 1.6k

notes. kind of a highschool au where rin is out for the season because of an injury 🙏 also kind of a one-sided rivalry because rin is a loser :p

— for @itoshiexx <3 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I could kiss you right now.

Those were the last words you spoke to Rin almost an hour ago.

He's agonizing over it, really. He probably should have at least said something back to you instead of shutting you out like he does every time he feels himself getting too close.

Instead he's dutifully working through his calculus notebook.

If he focuses enough on perfecting derivatives, he can ignore the way your presence beside him has only gotten weightier. But it's hard to do that when the words are still echoing in his mind.

I could kiss you right now.

You're just as adamant on finishing your workbook, eyes glued to the page and attention completely devoted to making numbers dance.

When you asked him earlier in the day if he could help you with the new sets, he was confused. You'd always been the one to best him.

It irritated him. You reminded him too much of his big brother.

But then he saw your notebook. You'd hesitantly handed it over to him when you showed up at his doorstep with courtesy snacks and a bag of oranges for his mother.

(Which she gushed about, by the way. He felt like burying himself in a hole when she asked if you were dating.)

You'd been trying for so long to figure out the solutions that some areas of the page were torn where you had kept erasing and redoing the work. He even found things scribbled out in frustration.

He would have laughed if you didn't have such a grim look on your face. Rin was never one for humour, anyways.

He reluctantly agreed to help, though he was sure your other grades would make up for one botched math unit. It was the petty pride in him speaking—in reality, the way you looked like you were on the verge of tears was enough to send him into fight or flight mode.

He had never seen such a dazed, stressed expression on you before. You were the epitome of a model student—good grades, class representative, and friendly enough that no one ever wanted to step on your toes.

No one but Rin, that is.

He told himself he hated you. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful. Successful enough to do anything you wanted to do, so long as you had the drive.

Everything Rin would have been if he hadn't injured his knee right before the football season started.

But what he thought he felt about you was a lie. He hadn't even realized it until you were sitting down on his bed, knee bumping into him as you lounged there criss-crossed.

He'd always just seen you as the person who sat in front of him in homeroom. Untouchable. He envied you, even though his grades were nearly as good now that he had all the time in the world to study.

Now, though, you're just as human as he is.

Rin can see your face instead of the back of your head. Your words are meant for him—thanking him, praising how easy his method for solving these equations is.

Then, you shattered his daydream.

I could kiss you right now.

You said it so unseriously, not even looking at him when you did. You had gotten to the end of your third page of work, conquering the math with ease now that you understood it.

It was your funny way of expressing gratitude. He knows you didn't mean anything by it, definitely. But it's been stuck in his mind.

And neither of you have uttered a word to each other since.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you slam your pencil down in your notebook and shut it with an audible thud.

"Break time!" You sigh blissfully, though he isn't sure if you're talking to him or yourself.

You flop back into his mattress and he just stares in quiet disbelief while you scroll through your phone like you fucking pay rent here.

Rin debates whether or not to kick you off his bed so that he can finish his homework without distraction, or if he should just leave you be. Ultimately, he decides that it's too much of a hassle to deal with confrontation and silently goes back to doing derivatives.

He would feel bad shoving you away when you finally started talking to him, after all. And you look so at ease now, with your work almost done.

(Yeah, you started working at a faster pace than him with his method. You seriously piss him off.)

He comes to the conclusion that this is going to be a one-time thing. Rin hates the twist of despair in his stomach seeing you about to burst into tears.

He hates the peace that fills him when you're back to your smiling self even more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rin wakes up to warmth.

Groggily, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes until they adjust to the light of sunrise pouring into his room.

It's strange. He doesn't remember falling asleep at all.

What was he doing last night? He shifts a little bit and freezes when he hears the crinkle of paper beneath him.

Oh, his calculus homework. Did he finish it? It's due today.

He's just about to sit himself up to check the time and hope he has at least another hour to sleep before school, when he realizes much too late that there's a weight on his arm.

Rin gets yanked back by the arm that's pinned down, yelping quietly in surprise.

And then everything hits him like a goddamn truck.

Maybe more like a freight train, really, because he feels like he's about to have a fucking heart attack. Rin dares to turn his head, so comically slow that it's like life itself moves in slow motion.

Somehow in your sleep, you've become a tangled mess of limbs.

His arm is tucked under your neck—the culprit for making him whelp like a child when he tried to sit up. Your legs are twisted together and... Oh god. His free hand is resting where your hip melts into your thigh.

Panic rises in his chest because one, he's never had another person in his bed before. Period. And two, because there's heat boiling in the pit of his stomach and he's pretty sure he's about to keel over and pass away.

Just as he's about to shove you off the bed, realization dawns on him.

You look so peaceful when you sleep.

Your breath smells, and your hair has gotten tangled under the weight of his arm. You're muttering to yourself quietly in your sleep, and he's pretty sure he can see a bit of drool in the corner of your lip.

He so desperately wishes that his first thought would be to tease you about this until the end of time. Or maybe use it as blackmail against you, if you were to get a higher grade on the upcoming calculus exam because of his methods.

But instead, his first thought is that he never wants to move from this position. That he needs to savour this moment.

It's horrifying.

18 hours ago, you pranced up to the side of Rin's desk and asked if he could help you with the problem set.

All he said was that he would help you with calculus.

He didn't expect you to show up at his door right after dinner. And he didn't expect you to seat yourself on his bed before he could offer you the chair at his desk.

He certainly didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

You've just been a bag full of mysteries. Rin hates mysteries. It's part of the reason why math works for him—no surprises, no ambiguity. There's always an answer.

Rin can't formulate an answer on why his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his ribcage.

You shuffle in his arms and suddenly the pounding in his chest ceases.

Is this what death feels like?

"Rin?" You murmur sleepily, shifting into his warmth as if this is something regular classmates should be doing. "What time is it?"

"I can't see the clock," he deadpans, though it's just a facade to hide how utterly enamoured he is right now. "It's behind you."

You groan, rolling over to check the time. He breathes a sigh of relief as you pull away but it gets stuck in his throat when you collapse back into him, your back against his chest.

"6:07," you tell him nonchalantly. And then you cozy yourself up in the blankets again, nice and warm, and go back to sleep.

"Hey," he shakes you lightly. "Don't just go back to bed, moron."

"We can talk about the homework later," you mumble as if that's what he fucking meant.

A million words run through his mind, parading to the tip of his tongue where they all fall off and die. He can't find them when you're slotting yourself closer and closer in your sleep, squeezing his arm against your cheek.

Eventually, he decides that it's not worth the hassle of getting up and having you see his flustered face right now. You'd never let him live it down.

So he closes his eyes and pretends that you're not just the person who sits in front of him in homeroom. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful.

"I could..."

He swallows loudly, the words like molasses in his throat.

I could kiss you right now.

You're dead to the world, but he doesn't dare speak the thought into existence, anyway.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

("Rin! 95%!"

You shove your paper into his face and he opens his mouth to snark back about it.

But then you leap forward and press a kiss to his cheek. Everything in his head instantly melts into mush.

"You're the best," you gush.

He just glowers at you with burning red cheeks.)

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 1 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

very necessary note: Okay, fuck, it was supposed to be a one shot. Then I got excited. So have another freakin' Regina George series. Set in the same universe as yard work! Reading that provides some essential context, but you do you! I don't think it's unreadable without it. chapter 2

You adjusted your tie for perhaps the millionth time. It was a silky blue, befitting your navy suit. You fiddled with your cufflinks, silver like all your accessories, then pulled out the baby blue handkerchief to wipe down your glasses, then folded it pack into your pocket, then bent to redo your laces, then-

"For fuck's sake, the ceremony hasn't even started yet!" Amanda nudged you violently.

"Ow!" You hissed, elbowing her back. She slapped your knee, hard.

"Get yourself together." She glowered, pointing a manicured finger at your nose. "It's worse enough I have to be here at all. You're not gonna ruin this for me."

"You're here for the open bar and free food. I paid for the flights, the room, the car." You bit back. "I'm allowed to be nervous."

"There's nervous, then there's this." Amanda looked you up and down pointedly, noting your bouncing knee.

You squeezed at said knee, trying to calm down. Like you'd been trying to do since hours ago. No results so far.

"Look, buddy, it's just a wedding. You don't even really know her. I get you... Have a history with the bride, or whatever, but it's gonna be so fine."

"It's not Gretchen I'm worried about." You mumbled.

"Whoever. It's gonna be fine." Amanda said, flippant as ever. How she was so carefree all the time was mind-boggling to you.

"This place is filled with people from high school. God." You looked around. "That guy over there, don't look, with the receding hairline- I said don't look!"

"Be more specific, every man here has a receding hairline. The demographic is excruciatingly pallid."

"Shut up, girl," You shook your head but couldn't help but laugh. It was mostly white people here. "The one with the wife that looks exactly like him, unbelievably blonde, kinda mousy," You waited for her eyes to latch onto the man you were talking about. "He used to buy weed from me, like, every week, and then went around spreading rumours about me."

"Ungrateful." Amanda scoffed. "And look at him, a wife, child, and probably a 401k. That's how it goes for boys like them."

"Yeah." You sighed. "How's the salon doing, by the way?"

"Thriving. Thanks to you. But I worked my ass off." You lifted your arms in surrender. She had worked hard to keep the place afloat for as long as she had, so even if you hadn't invested she would've found a way.

Amanda cast you a meaningful look. "You're doing better than ever, aren't you? Financially speaking. How's everything else?"

"Well, y'know..." You shrugged. "It's complicated." You looked down. Amanda patted your knee, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"You got a nice suit, though." She pointed out.

"Oh, for sure. Look at these, custom cufflinks." You showed off the silver bits. "Do you think these rings are too much?"

"Don't you usually have an ungodly amount of them on?"

"I usually just have these three." On your right pinky was your Engineer's Ring. On your left thumb was an embroidered steel band and on the pointer of that same hand a ring with a big emerald embedded in a bed of crystals.

"It's not too much." Amanda took your hand and inspected the rings. "More like sexy." She grinned at you, all sorts of innuendo right on display.

You scoffed and turned towards the altar. The pews were getting fuller by the minute. You were sitting far enough from the front to show you weren't important but not too far as to hint you didn't want to be there. You were on the bride's side, though it didn't matter much. You didn't know Gretchen any better than her husband-to-be.

Amanda had come with you for moral support. You'd been roommates in college and you hadn't been able to shake her off since. She'd grown on you, though you often acted more begrudged than you felt. She'd helped you out a lot over the years.

She'd been there when you couldn't leave the dorms, trapped in the vicious clutches of paranoia. She'd been there helping you get back on your feet when dad's businesses started going, one by one, each more explosive than the last. She was there when you moved back to that little town in Illinois, where Northshore still stood.

You liked to think you'd been equally as integral to her, but that was perhaps a reach. She was fiercely independent, resourceful, and charming enough to make friends with anyone. When the first chance to help her came, you didn't hesitate to take it. She'd opened up her salon right after graduation, staying in New York while you moved back home, and had been doing well until now. Unexpected costs and a wicked plumbing bill had landed her in some hot water.

For the small price of one favour and eternal bragging rights, you'd shoved your newly acquired wealth at her. Dragging her to Vermont in October to attend Gretchen's wedding was you cashing in on that favour.

Eventually, the proceedings began. The groom and his men walked in with little fanfare, mild music playing as they went. Most faces you did not recognize, but there was one back of the head that seemed eerily familiar.

The groom, a classically handsome man, a boring prince type, went to stand at the altar. He had an expectant glimmer in his eye. At least Gretchen's taste in men had improved. Then again, anything beat the scrubs she'd used to keep around.

Behind the groom, his line of groomsmen settled, the best man fronting the crowd. The man of the hour was in a classic black tux while the others flanking him were dressed in different shades of brown. The whole shebang was sort of beige with a little bit of burnt orange thrown in. Amidst the shades of umber, russet, and sepia, stood a familiar face.

Aaron Samuels. You didn't have much time to agonize about him being here before the bridesmaids were stepping through the aisle. Similar dresses but in lighter shades, clearly made to match a certain groomsman. You didn't recognize any of them.

The maid of honour was a little odd. Her makeup seemed to be a lot thicker on one side, like there were several layers of foundation caked on. Her eye makeup on that side was a little heavy also, but she was past you by the time you could wonder why.

"The maid of honour totally has a black eye," Amanda whispered to you.

"No way," You hissed back, trying to get an angle where you could see her face. As she settled in place, facing the pews, even moderately far away you could see that, yeah, she totally was covering up a black eye. Wild bachelorette party, then.

Coos and aws resounded through the church as the flower girl and the ring bearer came toddling down. A little girl, cheeks all red, and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else, and a slightly older boy with an almost manic look in his eye. The girl was in no mood to be tossing petals, so the boy reached into her basket and threw a big fistful of them in the air. The rings rolled off of their pillow but found their way back.

"Oops," The boy said, smiling sheepishly right as the photographer came in to capture the moment. Chuckles echoed through the space.

By the time they reached the end of the aisle, the little girl was dutifully carrying the pillow on which the rings were and the boy was joyously tossing flower petals everywhere. As god intended.

Then came the bride. Escorted by her father, who was beaming with a mouth full of veneers, Gretchen Wieners made her appearance.

It wasn't disappointment that you felt. Not relief, either. It was hard to describe. You'd been expecting anger or some catharsis. This was the person who'd outed you to your whole school, who'd been the catalyst to the worst year of your life, why didn't you feel more?

High school had been over for almost ten years. You carried scars, deep ones that still ached on bad days but at the end of the day, they were just scars. You were doing better than ever. Gretchen had been a bully, had brought you to ruin once upon a time, but who was to say it couldn't all be built again?

You smiled. She looked beautiful. A white dress, a long veil, hair done big, bigger and more grandiose than you'd ever seen, and looking like, well, a bride.

You'd moved on. Considering how she'd invited you too, and knowing Gretchen she was acutely aware of every person in attendance, she had moved on too. You could recognize an olive branch when one was given to you.

That didn't explain the invitation, though. Maybe it was a mistake. Gretchen wasn't known for making those, but she was human too. Right?

"Look, they're totally enthralled by each other. You're gonna be fine." Amanda whispered, ignoring the elderly lady seated next to her shooting daggers through her eyes at you two.

"Yeah. It's gonna be fine."

Notes: Got really ill at the beginning of this week, which delayed this chapter quite a bit. You don't realize quite how awesome breathing is until you can't do it properly. Getting better slowly, it's nothing serious, but the cough is lingering. It is what it is.

This chapter was mostly setting up the narrative, no Reggie and Jorts interactions as of yet. I'm not making any promises because I'm so shit at keeping them, but hoping that this series will be shorter than the original one.

Taglist posted seperately!

[charbies]

linktober 31 - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

I thought for the last day I'd write a little retrospective on what this whole thing was like and what I learned. I'm too tired to draw literally anything else I'm due for a break lol

So this was my second time ever attempting a linktober/october drawing challenge, but my first time managing to complete all the days and prompts. I feel super proud of myself and accomplished for pulling it off.

There were a number of things that were surprising and that were challenging for me that I wasn't expecting this month. If anything, I think this challenge really highlighted my flaws and mental blindspots with how I approach making art.

For one thing, I came away from this not liking everything I made. I think I only like about 9 or 10 of the 30 pieces I put out there. When I don't like my art, I tend to get stuck in this mental stalemate of refusing to finish a piece until I like it, but also refusing to retrace my steps and erase/rework what I have so far for fear of losing progress or not being able to replicate the line/angle/color/etc that I liked.

It was surprisingly hard to accept when I didn't like a piece but had to move on for the sake of time and post it anyway. But once I did it a few times, it got easier. I realized prioritizing my standards over my available energy is not gonna promote progress. If I kept sinking myself into one piece and not moving on until it was optimal, I never would have finished anything-- that was the pitfall that ultimately made me bail out 10 days in last year.

I also realized my sunk cost fallacy/"what if I erase this and can never redraw it good again" stems from some real lack of confidence in my knowledge and techniques with art. I'm self-taught, and I think I tend to believe that everything I make is a dumb happy accident, even though I have mental rules when I draw, use tons of references, and have a process lol. There are a few pieces I started over 2-3 times before I got them right, and that's starting to feel liberating instead of like failing to me now, which I never expected to come out of this experience so that's cool.

Another place I had to learn to let go of control in this was with allowing for style variation. I really wanted each and every piece to be coherent and painterly, like they all came from the same book or something. But then I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do all/no lineart, all/no detailed background, all/no heavy rendering, etc. At the end I settled on just keeping the same canvas dimensions and just prioritizing filling up the space. Glad I ended up doing this, because I really would benefit from continuing to chill out and scale back how much I default to making dramatic, high-render pieces. I gotta break out of my comfort zone and make more sketchy little guys!

Sometimes my attachment to the prompts fluctuated; some prompts I thought I would love and then just wanted to get them over with. Some prompts I thought I would hate and subsequently half-ass, then I ended up redoing them and putting more effort & time into and loved the end result!

It was funny to also see how some pieces that I loved straight up did not get a whole lot of notes or attention. Some pieces I was "meh" about did crazy numbers lol. I'm used to posting maybe 5-6 times a year on here, so I'm usually indifferent to getting notes (by which I mean, I'm super grateful for likes & reblogs and the super sweet & funny messages in y'alls tags, but I'm not butthurt when I don't get notes because whatever happens, happens). Churning out 30 pieces in 30 days made me sometimes get bewildered by what did and didn't get notes, but frankly in the end I think it helps reaffirm that I should continue putting whatever I want out there because it! is! not! graded!!!

So would I do Linktober again? Probably not, sorry! it was a lot of time & effort and took me away from fall festivities more than I would have liked. I kinda only managed to pull this off because I was transitioning between jobs this month and had a week off to just draw. But I also completely see the value in taking on a challenge like this and finishing what I started, I'm super glad I did this, I think my art improved from it. I would definitely do future drawing challenges/prompt things that are quicker or have less prompts!

My advice to prospective future linktoberers: pace yourself and be gentle; this is a great chance to do something exciting and new with your art, but above all it's about you having fun. There are no prizes at the end except for what you've learned and how you feel about it, and that's for the best!!

One thing's for sure, I am zelda'd out lmao so I'll be branching out towards some little projects I have lined up for personal art and other fandoms I'm into right now

So anyway thanks to all of you who read this or who gassed me up this whole month, I appreciate you!!!!!!!! ヾ(＾∇＾)

[southangel]

hey againnn! hope ur doing well ^^ wendy, stan, and kenny (seperate) x fem touch starved reader? could be nsfw or sfw whatever u want

- ⚡

Stan, Kenny, and Wendy Being Touch Starved

Warnings: slight mentions of NSFW themes

Notes: Hi anon!! Hope this doesn’t get out too late, i’m trying to use my free time on working on all of my requests. Okay yeah this got out late, oops.

Stan Marsh

Honestly, Stan himself would be touch starved himself, if not more.

He really just needs some love, so a simple touch on the hand or a hug would brighten him up so much.

Since you’re touch starved as well, you both just spend time together all the time, rarely apart.

You and Stan always hold hands, whether it be at school, outside, at home, anywhere.

Whenever Stan is cuddling with you, he gets really awkward often, so he most likely has to be doing something separate at the same time.

You might just show up randomly at his house, unannounced. Please keep doing it more often, it makes day a lot better..

Stan is a really good listener, he’ll let you rant to him about anything and everything as you cling onto his arm.

Will get very awkward if you just grab one of his hands and put it anywhere on you; just because you can tell he can’t do it himself.

Stan can be very clueless, so don’t expect him to know what to do once you start crying for him to come back to bed.

He’s learned to tell you every time he has to go for a bathroom break, even when you’re sleeping because you can tell.

Stan had gifted you a matching hat as his with different colors a while back; he can’t remember the last time he saw you without it.

He’s too scared to ask about it though, he doesn’t want you to take it as an insult.

He changed your contact name to parasite without thinking you would see it, you left him alone for a whole week straight.

Stan apologized for it so many times, it was kind of intense.

He got really used to you always being with him, so it just feels unnatural to have you gone from him.

“I swear i’ll be back quick. I just need some water..”

Kenny Mccormick

Kenny was never too touch starved, maybe a bit, but he loves it when you are since it’s just an excuse for him to show you more love.

From the amount of affection he gives you, it’s surprising that you still act like this.

You could message Kenny at a random our at night, expect him to be outside your window.

Both of you aren’t really that social, so you might just sit together at a lone table, not minding about anything else.

Kenny might rest a hand on your thigh, just to hold you over, might go higher if you’re wearing a skirt.

Similar to Stan, he can get really touchy as well. Any kind of touch is fine, but he likes to just focus on you the entire time.

Sends photos of himself to you when he’s away just to tease you, he finds it funny how annoyed you can get.

Feels a little bad afterwards, so Kenny shows up as quick as he can right after.

He takes a bunch of photos of you when you’re like this, just for fun.

Kenny probably will kiss you everywhere but your lips, telling you that you already got “enough” affection from him.

If you both ever have work that’s due, you’ll just ask for a hangout to work on that together.

It’s really just an excuse to be next to Kenny, he doesn’t mind it at all.

Kenny loves giving you head rubs, and he knows you like it as well.

Sometimes he ruffles your hair at the same time and it gets all messed up. He fixes it before you can say anything, and actually makes it look better.

You probably copy that exact hairstyle from then on, or make Kenny redo it for you.

Always open for late night hangouts, don’t be shy to invite him over.

“Do you think I look cute in this photo? I probably do.”

Wendy Testaburger

Wendy is a pretty busy girl, but she understands how it feels to be touch starved.

She tries not to stay away from you too much, just so that you can get the attention you deserve.

Wendy doesn’t want to give you too much though, the last time she did that her whole schedule was fucked up.

A simple kiss on the cheek is what she does most of the time until she comes back, she can tell how needy you can be.

Wendy ends up inviting you over on the days where you really need her, watching a movie together or even just cuddling if that’s what you need.

You’re one of her top priorities though, so she’s always making sure that you’re comfortable.

Wendy is the type of girl to lend you her beret, or just any piece of clothing to let you have a part of her.

You both exchange clothes all the time and it’s so fun.

You’re almost always sitting next to her, doesn’t matter where. She might get a little annoyed at first, but she knows it isn’t your fault.

Spam calling and messaging Wendy late at night would get her so pissed.

You know she doesn’t like getting woken up, but you should be grateful that she loves you because she lets you off the hook easier.

Wendy would definitely know how to deal with your emotions, especially on those days when you’re extra moody.

A good listener, but a good conversation starter. You love just listening to her talk, even if you’re only focused on her voice and not what she’s actually saying.

The whole time she was just trying to comfort you.

“Anything specific you wanna do? Or maybe we can just cuddle..”

[ilykaveh]

⭒ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ! I WANNA BE A WH0RE !

[ ALHAITHAM AS YOUR TUTOR . ]

content · fem ! reader, name calling, bimbo reader, alcohol mention, sub ! reader, teasing, degradation, manipulation, alhaitham is a bit toxic, in public, possessiveness, taking and sharing photos without consent, threesome mention, toy use.

· alhaitham hates socializing, let's make that clear. while you may have bumped into him a few times in the corridor or at mandatory school events, the first time that you actually met him was when you were over at his dorm.

· you'd spent a night at a frat party where you had bumped into his roommate, kaveh. the two of you hit it off over a few drinks and a couple of rounds of beer pong — before you knew it, you were on the way back to his place and getting a little bit handsy in the back of the uber ride.

· while you both intended on getting laid that evening, the reality was that kaveh passed out the moment that his head hit the pillow. regardless, you lay in his bed beside him, too tired to care, and fell asleep for the night.

· the next morning, you woke up to cold and unfamiliar sheets. upon checking your phone, you discovered that it was way past two p.m., and you’d missed your morning lecture. after picking up your discarded clothes and any other belongings, you stumbled into the common area whereby you were greeted by your stoic, grey-haired classmate.

· his nose was buried in a book as he sprawled out on the couch, and despite your efforts to make a stealthy exit, you knocked over a rather gaudy lamp. alhaitham’s quick reflexes surprised you as, without moving his gaze from the page, he reached out and grabbed the object before it could hit the ground. you stood there in shock for a moment as he looked at you up and down before breaking the silence, bluntly informing you that kaveh had a seminar to attend.

· the two of you made some light conversation, though it was really just alhaitham making short responses and you trying to be as polite as you could. in all honesty, the man was intrigued by you. he was used to girls in his classes being all over him as a result of his academic prowess and his above average physique. you, however… there was something special about you.

· he ended up inviting you to get some coffee and to go over the notes from the lecture that you missed, and of course you agreed, with the exception that you could go home first to get changed and grab your laptop. although it very clearly wasn’t a date, you hated going out without looking your very best. to your surprise, alhaitham walked you back to your dorm and waited for you to get yourself ready.

· alhaitham clearly overestimated how quickly he would be done with this. reviewing the material covered this morning would typically take him an hour at most, whereas now the pair of you were on your third round of coffee and barely approaching halfway. hell, he was wondering how you ever managed to get into university.

· ever the sceptic, he even debated whether or not you were simply faking your stupidity to get closer to him, but by the way that you left for the bathroom for the sixth- no, seventh time just to redo your lip gloss, he doubted that. how drunk did kaveh have to be to bring you home? maybe you were just an easy fuck; it seemed that much was apparent to alhaitham. he cursed under his breath as he found himself contemplating how much fun his roommate had had the night before with you. he wasn’t a sleeze, but you were practically parading yourself around like a piece of meat in that short pink skirt.

· one coffee date soon turned into permanent tutoring. alhaitham told himself that he was doing it for your good rather than any selfish reasons — surely it's better that you study with him instead of some pervert that would gladly take sex as a payment for their time, right? or at least, that's how it was at first.

· it didn't take too long for alhaitham to become frustrated with your incompetence. he'd explain a given subject three or four times, and you would barely understand the basics even then. everything came to head with him snapping and running his hands through his hair as he called you a good for nothing slut, even going as far as to (rhetorically) ask if you would do a better job if he questioned you whilst having you bent over the table and his cock buried deep inside your whore cunt.

· at first, you were slightly taken aback; it was strange to see a man that typically kept his emotions under lock and key display such an outburst. then you thought about it a little more… maybe he was just giving you a study tip! that sounded more like the alhaitham you knew! he'd never degrade you over nothing, would he?!

· so you did what any sane person would do (or rather, what you thought any sane person would do) and said that you could try that, if he thought that it would help. alhaitham internally rolled his eyes, mentally cursing you for being so astronomically gullible. but after all of the strain that you've put him through, the countless hours of revising powerpoints and testing you with his personal collection of flash cards… he agreed.

· a pg-rated study session soon transformed into something out of a cheap porno. alhaitham prepped you a little, making you sit on the desk that you were using while he fingered you, all the while he recited facts for you to repeat back to him. by the time that you were ready, having reached a point dangerously close to coming undone, he leaned back in his seat and patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on his muscular thigh.

· you didn’t even bother to put your panties back on as you sauntered over to sit on his lap. your skirt rode up, leaving your wet cunt exposed. alhaitham undid the button on his jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock. your jaw almost dropped at the sight of it - it was certainly thicker than any other dick you’d taken, though the length is really what made you drool. your tutor teased your neediness a little before presenting you his idea: he was going to quiz you on some of the material, and if you answered right, you’d get his cock. simple enough… right?

· however, it would be stupid for alhaitham not to take full advantage of the dripping cunt in front of him, and the needy little doll that came attached. every time that you got a question wrong, or if he caught you daydreaming about his cock, he’d punish you. it was lighter at first, for example he reached under your shirt and groped at your breast. after five… no, six, questions, you made the mistake of hesitating and the man grabbed the base of his cock, then slapping the appendage against your pussy. he only smirked as you whined and bucked your hips against him, only for him to remind you that he still had a couple more questions to ask you.

· it was over an hour before you finally got to the end of his impromptu exam, and your demeanour was now akin to a desperate puppy. a pout had taken over your features, and your eyes were becoming increasingly glassy with tears threatening to spill if you didn’t get what you wanted - alhaitham was merely amused by what a delightful situation he’d found himself in, a pretty bimbo sat on his lap and begging him to be touched. you were putty in his very hands, so he saw it fit to allow you to ride him - after all, he was the one doing you a favour, right?

· these little study sessions soon improved your grades, and you were over the moon! upon receiving your results, you ran up to the taller man, who had to catch you before you both toppled over onto the grass courtyard besides the lecture hall. although alhaitham knew that he should be happy for you, the improvement instilled a fear in him: if you were smart enough to get these grades on you own, perhaps you wouldn’t need him anymore.

· that little thought sowed the seed in his mind that soon turned into a fully framed plan. sure, some would argue that it was a little bit manipulative, but it was for your own good, so he wasn’t causing any harm… right? and it certainly wasn’t done with a single ounce of malice, and you seemed to enjoy this little arrangement, so he continued to reason with himself that everything was perfectly fine.

· alhaitham’s scheme was simple: amongst all of the correct information that he taught you during your study sessions, he’d pepper in a few incorrect tidbits. it would prevent you from ever hitting full marks, and you could continue getting your pretty princess cunt stuffed full three or four times a week. he hated to admit it, but your adorable face as he pinned you down against his mattress and rutted into you whilst you recited what you’ve learnt to him. he always made sure that you thanked him for being such a wonderful tutor, and he even fucked you so good that you would agree with every single degrading phrase that slipped past his lips; it ranged from how you really were only good for getting fucked and that maybe you should drop out and become a full time whore to him reminding you that the only way you ever learnt anything was by spreading your legs.

· before you knew it, you were completely and utterly wrapped around alhaitham’s finger. you agreed to anything that he said if he promised that it would help you become smarter and would improve your grades! you even heard him out (and later went along with his plans) when he presented you with a cute pink dildo that you could slip into your panties before a test, and the idea was that you would recall answers easier because you were so used to learning with your cunt wrapped around his own cock.

· that being said, alhaitham was equally enamoured with you. he slowly allowed you to coax him out of his reclusive shell without even realising it himself. you would drag him along to social gatherings and parties - he told himself that he was doing it with your best interest at heart, after all anything could happen to such a dimwitted sweetheart like yourself, especially when you saw nothing wrong with wearing a miniskirt and a crop top out in the february cold. and no, it wasn’t like those fishnet tights or obnoxiously large white boots were doing anything to keep you warm at all.

· various classmates and other students on campus soon had you pegged as alhaitham’s girl, the precious, doe-eyed lamb that followed him around wherever he went and vice versa. other men were too scared to approach you as you had a scowling, grey-haired guard dog few paces behind you shooting them a death glare, and all the girls were insanely jealous about how you managed to bag the man that they’d been fawning over for so long. they even went as far as to gossip about how loose your cunt must be considering you’ve slept with half the guys on campus before him, and that you’d probably get bored and jump onto the next cock within a matter of weeks. alhaitham was quick to ensure that you never heard any of this, no matter how true the aforementioned statements were. a quick few threats here and a him flashing a picture that he’d secretly taken of your cunt struggling to take his cock shut them up rather fast.

· the only person that alhaitham allowed to hear you fuck though, was his roommate. in fact, he’d specifically speed up his pace in order to force louder noises out of your sweet throat in order to remind kaveh of what he had missed out on. he wasn’t totally mean though, no. because alhaitham promised that if you managed to pass this year’s finals, he’d let the blonde join in on your fun for an evening.

[flippinpancakes64]

Would you be willing to write how would the Cullens react to the reader asking to do/wanting to do their makeup?

Doing the Cullens' Makeup

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!

I tried to branch out a little and include some more dialogue in this one, so hopefully it’s good.

Edward:

He's a bit hesitant

He is one of the oldest ones

And the most old fashioned one

He will take some convincing

Mostly he just doesn't see why you want to do that

Like you have your own face

You would need to start out small

Put just like a liiiiittle bit of blush on his cheeks

He will never let you do a full face btw

So you're gonna have to settle with giving him some subtle eyeshadow, a bit of blush, and maybe some lipstick

Once he sees that it can still look natural and not super obvious he'd let you do it more often

He does draw the line at leaving the house like this though

Alice:

Of course

You didn't even need to ask

She would just sit there and talk your ear off for however long it takes

She would find it really relaxing

Even if you're not good at it she'd let you do her makeup all the time

She just won't leave the house with it on :')

She would be nice about it though

"Oh, you put blue eyeshadow on me and the dress I already had picked out was orange so I had to change the eyeshadow to be orange!"

Would never ever tell you if it's bad

Now if you're good at it tho...

Sorry that's your job now

She won't leave the house now without you doing her makeup

"Come on we have an hour before we need to leave you need to start my makeup now!"

Will tell anyone that asks that you did it

She's proud

Jasper:

He's old fashioned

But I think he's so old to the point that he knows times are changing and he can adapt

So if you come up to him and ask he'll just be like

"Oh okay guys wear makeup now... noted"

And he lets you no questions asked

He will not leave the house with it on tho unfortunately

At least not with like mascara, eyeshadow, or eyeliner

But he would go out with some blush or some lipstick

He would really enjoy the intimacy of it

And he would love seeing you focus

He would really like the brushes on his face

Overall very relaxing

He wouldn't ever ask you to do it

But if you suggest it immediately he is sat and ready

Rosalie:

1000x yes

She loves being pampered just a little bit

And I feel like she already enjoyed doing your makeup before this

So yes of course you can

She has legitimately zero preference

You want to do rainbow eyeshadow and purple blush?

Okay go for it :)

If you're not good at it she'll still let you do her makeup

She will just sneak off to the bathroom afterwards to fix it up a little

And if you notice it looks different no you don't

"Did you redo your makeup?" "What no of course I didn't you just really did this good!"

Will make any colors you choose work as well

If she was planning on wearing something, oh well she's choosing something else that goes with her makeup

Emmett:

He doesn't care

He thinks it's a fun bonding activity

But he will only let you do his makeup if he can do yours too

And be warned, he is bad at it

He's sort of eye-for-an-eye type

If you want him to go out wearing the makeup you did, then you have to go out in the makeup he did

So yeah best to leave it behind closed doors

He does actually try tho

Full tongue sticking out, really focused on trying to get an eyeliner wing

He just can't

Either way he doesn't mind

If it makes you happy then he's happy

Though he would prefer to get lipstick from kissing you ;)

Esme:

I feel like she has a makeup routine

And by routine I mean this is the makeup she's been doing every day for like 100 years or however old she is

So she is a little hesitant for you to do something different to her

And she finds comfort in the routine

She would let you try though

Maybe like... later at night when she has nowhere else to go

If you do a good job though she'll be pleasantly surprised

And she might even let you do her makeup if there's a special occasion

If you do a bad job though...

Let's just say your skills are solely for before-showering makeup

Sorry :)

Carlisle:

(I have been waiting to use this gif for FOREVER)

Anyway he's from a time when guys used makeup very consistently in higher society

So it's nothing new to him

It's just been a while since that's been popular

"You want to do my makeup? Oh, that's nice that that's back in fashion."

He doesn't mind at all

He won't go to work with it on though

He does have a professional appearance to uphold

But he'll indulge you at home as much as you want

And if you ask him nicely he might even do the makeup he used to do for you

I think it would be funny

He would tell you all of his stories while you work on him

Very fun

We love a man who's comfortable in his masculinity

Vampire! Bella:

I feel like she's never been huge into makeup

In the movies we never see her put any on (not that Kristen isn't wearing any)

And there's no mention of it in the books that I remember

But again she's not opposed

I feel like she'd be really touchy around the eyes

"Stop blinking so much it's just eyeliner." "Sorry it tickles... and it feels weird."

She wouldn't know if you did a good job or not

She's never paid that much attention to makeup or what makes it look good or bad

So she would like it either way

Rose or Alice would have to be the ones to pull her aside and ask if she needs any help with her makeup if it looks bad

And she would say no and ask why because you did it

They just give sort of a "yikes" face

[deoidesign]

Happy webcomics day!!!

I'm not home (on a trip right now with family), but I still want to talk a little bit about my process, so I did what I could to find some wip shots 🧡

Plus, I'd also like to update my extremely patient readers with a little taste of what's to come!!!

Step one, of course, is writing.

When I'm writing I have four documents open. A "dump" document, a "yes this!" Document, an outline document, and a drawing canvas!

In the dump document, I put ANYTHING. complete stream of consciousness. The 'yes this' document is where I put anything useful from the dump document, and the outline is, of course, the outline. The drawing canvas is for me to sketch out problems and ideas and get sort of a different angle on things, since I can't really visualize.

Once I have a book completely written, I start thumbnailing!

My thumbnails pretty much look like this. Text, sketchy poses, indications of expression and maybe environment...

I thumbnail the entire book at once. I don't let myself do any edits on it until it's done, but I take note of edits I'd like to make! Then, once the first draft is out, I edit.

I'll move entire scenes, delete whole episodes, bring in bits from the end to have proper foreshadowing... Etc! It's a long process that makes my arcs feel much more complete and something I can be really proud of.

I can only do this when I'm really ahead, though, so that's why I've been on a long hiatus!!! I was forced to work without my process for a few arcs, and the difference is so huge to me that I refuse to let myself do it again. It makes a loner hiatus, but work way more worth waiting for!

Next step is lineart!

Yes, I skip sketches! I go right into lines.

I save every head I've ever drawn, and that lets me copy paste in a basic head angle. Then I redo the face, fix up the hair, etc. so it fits my panel, and then I draw the rest of the body!

This seriously saves me so much time, but less so for the drawing (i still draw a ton of heads and I'm very fast) and more just for helping me skip sketching entirely!

Then I do character flats, which since all my lines are closed that goes pretty quickly (slowest part is Steve's hair, I refuse to use a brush cause every one I've made looks terrible!!!)

And then I draw the backgrounds!

Which, I keep layered, clean, and HUGE so I can use them throughout the arc.

I used to feel bad doing this, but then I realized... It's not like backgrounds "change" irl. So why make them change in my comics...? It saves me so much time, but it ALSO lets me put in more detail per background! I draw probably 3 very large backgrounds per episode like this, and then I draw maybe 5-10 unique backgrounds for single panels per episode as well. I save these too, but they're rarely re-used.

And then my panels are done!!!

So there's a bit of my process for you all!!!

Happy webcomics day 🧡🧡🧡

And here's my comic, if you haven't read it and want to see the end result of this process, or if you have read it and would enjoy a re-read with the extra knowledge:

Or, if you would prefer books I have those too!

Happy to elaborate on any step, as well!

I make comics extremely quickly and as my full time job, and my process allows me to easily manipulate my format as well. I'm happy to share any of my knowledge if you have questions!!!

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

if you're still doing requests- nsfw alphabet with switzerland 👉👈

i am my motivation just doesn't agree if that makes sense and most of my requests i'm either far too ambitious with and keep re-writing or are just not something i'm interested in rn. thank u for handing me an excuse to write about the guy. was an easy and fun write. might have minor errors. very sorry this took a bit ! (also- should i redo the yandere alphabet with him? i feel its REALLY ooc now that i re-read it..)

Switzerland NSFW Alphabet

warnings : nsfw ofc, nothing intense otherwise though. made him dominant here, request again if you want him submissive.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the most extra individual, but it's definitely not non-existent or anything. he will be ensuring you're not in pain, not thirsty, not uncomfortable.. He'll probably want to clean up and whatnot though once confirmed that you're all good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his own eyes, they're always useful and a lot of his activities frequently require good eyesight, which he has. Definitely enjoys his hands too though, he's pretty used to work that requires physical labor so they're helpful too.

He's never said it, but it's easy to tell your thighs and hips are a favorite of his regarding activities such as these. His hands frequently drift there, and so does his line of sight when he thinks you're not looking.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He prefers it inside, just more convenient in his opinion. He'll understand if you want it outside though, then it'll usually just end up somewhere else on your body, no particular areas of interest really.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Although he feels really creepy for doing it, if you gave him literally any shirts, pants, or anything along those lines as a gift, he likely smelt it while jerking off. It just really gets him going, and he hates it (loves it, just won't admit it to himself).

Also, side note, has thought about fucking in the forest. He usually doesn't like risks, but he feels really in his element when out in the woods and his mind can't help but drift to such thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Unexperienced, but not really dumb to what he should do and the alike. Might secretly read a bit to learn what all he should look out for, or do. Keeps looking away every ten seconds though throughout his research because he's sort of a prude.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Usually goes for Missionary. He's a very simple man, and doesn't like to get too weird when it's up to positions, so it just fits him. Would also be willing to do some other ones though, as long as they aren't too squished or require too much flexibility. It's not like he can't handle either of those, it's just very distracting to him and this is definitely something he likes to focus on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not a silly guy in general, even less lighthearted when having sex. Finds it awkward if you make any jokes, but wouldn't mind if you laughed at any accidents or anything like one of you slipping.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Doesn't see the point to shaving that which very few people will ever see, but he also doesn't like being overly hairy. He keeps it trimmed to a shorter length, just seems like a waste of time to do anything more. It's the same colour as his hair too, not even like the slightest difference.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not overly romantic, but it's the small things he does that shows his affection. Always keeps an eye out to make sure you're comfortable, has a tendency to adjust you without asking just to be sure you're in a nice spot. Still embarrased to kiss you, by the way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only when he finds it neccessary. Switzy is a rather prudent man, and sexual activity doesn't really land on his mind that often. Sometimes though, he does have those straying thoughts. Ones he has to handle himself. Ones he internally punishes himself for, but exist nevertheless.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sorta likes the idea of outdoor sex. Just scared of getting caught, is all. He's very much a fan of nature, and he's spent lots of time in it. He largely prefers it there over cities any day of the week. So maybe on some of his property, further out, after he's scoped the whole area and put a million "no trespassing" signs up. (And likely brought a gun.. Just incaese.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, usually. Bathroom, occasionally. Elsewhere, in your dreams. Too horrified at the idea of his sister coming to visit him just to get scarred for life. Hates to do anything outside his/your own home, ignoring the above section of course (when he gets brave enough to test that out).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As I might've mentioned earlier, he loves your thighs and hips. Size doesn't matter, scarring doesn't matter.. HE JUST LOVES THEM! If visible, they instantly catch his attention, and sort of distract him. Only a teensy bit though, he's not gawking at you or anything.. Also likes it if you give him lots of big kisses while you rub him up. Anywhere on his body too, really, it's his favorite thing. (Even more- he loves if you squeeze his butt. He might huff a bit if you do, but trust, he secretely adores it.)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that risky. In any way you can think of. Literally all forms of risks are a major no for him. Physically risky, reputation risky.. All of them.

Also, anything gross. Won't go along with watersports, emetophilia.. Anything along those lines are a no-no for him. Would completely wreck his mood.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sort of nervous on recieving oral? Not really for himself too, he just doesn't want you to feel physical discomfort or choke or anything.. It's not really his thing. Totally up for giving, though. You might not expect it, but he's actually rather big on giving. Would honestly be satisfied if that's all you two do for the night.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He tends to gear towards a happy medium pace most of the time (exceptions can be made..). Sensual isn't really a word to describe it, nor is it rough. Not harsh, but not fluid. He feels if he goes rough he'll hurt you, and that's really not something he wants. But if he goes slow it just makes him feel shy, if that makes sense. It gives you the opportunity to really focus in on him, and he isn't exactly talkative in sex either outside simple questions and the alike, so it makes him feel awkard. A speed that's gentle but not too calm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's not a fan, and he'll rarely ever agree to go along with them. If he does though, then those are the times that the exceptions mentioned above happen. Though, admittedly, even though he isn't neccessarily a fan, he doesn't hate them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Okay, unlike above, he's actually a real hater of risks. And there's really no elaborating on it either, as it's pretty much already been covered. Will not agree to risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While usually he tends to try and keep it at one to three rounds, he can do more. He's a physically abled man, and has quite a bit of stamina due to all the training he does and the alike. If he really wanted to he could go for.. Five? Probably could do seven, but he's just not that much of a sex fanatic, so that won't really happen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would never buy any. Why get such a thing if he's already equipped with parts for this activity? Might be willing to try some simpler things though, if you get it. Don't expect him to go for any BDSM stuff though, that's just really not his thing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not at all. He simply doesn't have the patience for it. Teasing him does get you somewhere though, if you're interested. Just don't expect him to humor you for too long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tries to be as silent as possible. Naturally, he isn't that noisy anyways, but it still embarrasess him. Panting, grunting. Maybe lower-sounding very muffled whimpering (only if you work to get it out of him).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has considered jealousy sex.. On multiple occassions. Only racked up the courage for it once. Just finds it too silly and stupid to do it any other time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Uncut, six inches. His pubic hair is a slightly darker blond, but similar to his hair. Only keeps it trimmed since he just doesn't get the point to shaving. Too much drama for something that doesn't really cause any difference besides aesthetics.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high. It's non-existant, supposedly. It's mostly just due to the fact he chooses to ignore it instead of actually indulging himself in sexual pleasure though! Realistically, it's likely just a bit below average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he does go to sleep afterwards, it's likely after a couple of hours. He has a few things to do beforehand so he won't get to it immediately. Would definitely stick with you for a bit after you fall asleep though, even if he himself decides to not rest.

[blue-slxt]

FWB

*Request: maybe some idea for u : feisty humain!reader having mood swings w her best friend (Loak or Neteyam) because she is in her ovulating week and he teases her until making her tell him why she is acting weird like that today. then he asks her to explain the "symptoms" and she says that she want to fuck more and that she’s more attracted to people during this time and he asks if it’s applied to him too & u already know the end of it🤭🤭 hope u can take something from it, xo 😘*

Okay, so this is my first human!reader fic so go easy on me 😅 I might redo this one in the future with Neteyam because I’m curious about how much different it would turn out if I wrote for him instead. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one 🤗 All characters are aged up.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

Pandora was beautiful. Even though you had to admire its beauty through the shield of your mask, it still left you breathless every day. Looking out at the bioluminescent flora and fauna every night through your bedroom window was unlike anything you had ever seen on Earth. You wanted to be out in it every day. But today you were hit with a painful reminder that you were human.

You jumped out of your sleep drenched in sweat. What were you dreaming about? You couldn’t fully remember. The memory came in flashes and blurs. Moans, smacks, and heat is all you’re able to really make out before you lose the visual. You suck in a sharp breath feeling a dull ache in your breasts. You cautiously press on one trying to figure out what was causing the pain. You find nothing and brush it off as a consequence of sleeping on your stomach. When you make your way to your bathroom to get ready for the day, you strip off your sleep clothes and notice a giant wet spot on your panties. That’s weird. And then it hits you. You check your app on your phone and realize what week it is. You’re ovulating. You roll your eyes and make a mental note to plug in your toys before you leave your room.

After a shower and brushing your teeth, you go join everyone for breakfast. While you’re fixing your coffee, a familiar voice enters the lab. Everybody greets Lo’ak as he walks through the cafeteria over to you. “Hey, I found this awesome lake with a cliff that’s perfect for diving. We’ve gotta check it out!” he’s oozing enthusiasm and excitement and it’s adorable. All of a sudden, it feels like there’s a throbbing between your legs.

“Sounds cool, Lo’ak. Maybe another day though.” You say about to walk away, but he blocks your path.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve already been waiting for like 2 days because of training. We’ve gotta go now.” “I’m not in the mood Lo’ak.” Your irritation is growing. You loved Lo’ak. He was your absolute best friend, but he was persistent. And while that could be endearing in certain circumstances, it could also be kind of a nuisance. Right now, you really just needed to get back to your room and take care of your little problem.

“What’s up with you today? I thought you’d be dying to go.” He’s starting to get a little concerned looking at your face. “Your face is getting red.”

You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you right now, “Nothing is ‘up’ with me Lo’ak so will you drop it please?” you push past him and continue down the hall to your room.

Lo’ak follows right behind you though. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s wrong.” You roll your eyes as he follows you into your room. “What? Somebody eat the last of your snacks or something?”

You huff out a big sigh and set your coffee on your desk. “If you really must know, I’m ovulating.”

His face screws in confusion. “Okay…What does that mean? Is that a human thing?”

Right. You and Lo’ak are so close that sometimes you forget he is actually an alien. “How do I explain it….it’s like when a na’vi woman goes into heat, but for humans we also can get bloated and moody and crampy and a whole bunch of other stuff. You follow?” you do your best to try and explain to him and his eyes jump around while he’s trying to make the connections in his mind. ”So you’re in a bad mood because you’re in heat?” he does his best to try and make sense of your situation.

“Basically, yeah.”

“So how do you make it better?” he crosses his legs making himself comfortable on your bed like he often did.

“There’s not really a way to make it better. I kind of have to just ride it out. Unless, I got pregnant, but it’s not like that’s gonna be happening anytime soon. But I’m irritated because I’m insanely horny and I can’t really get any relief.”  You brush your hair to the side with your fingers trying to soothe yourself and Lo’ak watches your hair brush over your neck and expose your shoulders.

“Well, what if I helped you out?” he asks casually.

Your body freezes in place. “Lo’ak I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“That’s why you’re not asking, I’m offering. I mean what kind of friend would I be if I knew I could help you out and I did nothing?” Lo’ak had always kind of had a thing for you. You were his closest friend and he found a comforting familiarity in you that he didn’t feel with other na’vi thanks to his slightly more human traits.

You think about his offer for a split second before snapping back to your senses. “How would that even work? I think you forget that you’re like 8 feet tall. You would quite literally split me in half.”

He chuckles knowing that you’re not wrong. “Just lay down and let me handle it.”

You’re skeptical. “What are you going to do?”

“Just lay down. You trust me, right?” You slowly make your way over to your bed next to him. “Yeah…”

“Okay then. So don’t be so uptight.” You lay back and let your eyes scan the ceiling of your room. Your breathing gets faster when you feel Lo’ak hook his fingers in the waist band of your shorts and panties and slide them down your legs. You close your eyes trying not to focus on the fact that your best friend was now staring down your exposed cunt.

This is crossing so many lines, but your mood would only get worse if you were to stop now. Work yourself up just to rip away your chance at real relief? You weren’t in the mood for edging today. There was no turning back now.

Meanwhile Lo’ak is wide-eyed as he stares at your body. He’d never tell you this, but he had imagined you exactly like this countless times. When he’d come to see you and you’d be dressed in barely-there comfy clothes, when you’d bend over to pick something up, when the front of your shirt would fall a little lower than it should and he would catch a peek at your cleavage. The restraint he had to hold on to was legendary. And now here he was licking his lips greedily as he almost gets stuck just staring at your form that squirmed with anticipation and nerves.

He lowers his head between your thighs and carefully swipes his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your whole body jolts from the feeling and a small moan escapes. Lo’ak’s ears flick in your direction and he’s now painfully aware of how hard he is right now. He continues lapping at your soaked entrance closing his eyes to savor the sweet taste on his tongue. He groans against your heat and the vibrations make your hips grind against his face. “Mmf…Fuck…Lo’ak!” your voice comes out in a breathy whine.

One of his fingers teases at your entrance before he slowly slides it inside of you. His finger is huge stretching you deliciously. You look down at his face and he’s already watching you. The eye contact makes you lose it. “Yes! Yes Lo’ak! Right there! Oh, fuck you’re gonna make me cum right there!”

“Shit, so fucking tight. Cum for me.” He says between sucking on your clit. It’s too much. The way his finger curls up to press against the spongey part inside your walls and the sound of him French kissing your cunt sends you over the edge. Your body shakes violently and your walls squeeze around his finger. Your head falls back while you reach your peak and subsequently come down.

Lo’ak reluctantly pulls his mouth off of you and pulls his finger out of you and watches your chest rise and fall rapidly while you regain your composure. He tries to position himself so that he can hide his bulge not wanting to let on just how badly he wanted to fuck you dumb right now.

“Feel better?”

You lazily nod your head at him.

“Good. So can we go diving now?” he tries to lighten the mood before any kind of conversation can follow what just happens. You’re not really ready to talk about it yet either.

“Alright, let’s go.”

He jumps up in excitement and you get dressed and find your mask.

“Thanks, Lo’ak.” Even if you weren’t really ready to talk about it yet, you still felt like you should at least thank him.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure.” He shoots you a playful wink before walking off.

[saulocept]

you know i’m such a fool for you

pairing: ominis gaunt/reader

rating: g

summary: Sometimes, four simple words can mean the world. You didn’t know it then, don’t know it even now. But maybe it’s still not too late to change your mind.

background notes: took a lot of liberties w this so everything’s all vague and messy - some canon things are alluded to, but no explicit spoilers? full tags include: implied love triangles, implied sebastian sallow/reader. for a more detailed explanation, read the ending notes.

ending notes: originally this was going to be a poly fic - it kinda still is depending on how you interpret the ending, but it could also be read as a resolution to an alluded love triangle. i still however want that poly so i might write a companion part for this, rather than a direct sequel. or you know. just a new thing but w poly still (more established, less establishing). if you agree w me and have some ideas for prompts, head onto my inbox! 

The night is quiet, the skies bright with countless stars. It’s almost a strange sight, certainly different from what you’re used to, and it’s odd – you feel odd. You’ve never been this at peace before, or calm. It’s a strange sensation to feel, especially when you’re used to always being on high alert, waiting for the next bad thing to happen, for the next tragedy to drop, afraid that every smidge of happiness will be quickly taken away.

You’re not used to it, not really, but as you glance around your surroundings: the moon on the horizon, close enough that you could almost reach out and touch it, you think you might be wrong for once. It’s really over now, you think. A moment of peace, even if it might not always last. Still, the thought of it is a huge weight off your shoulders and you feel as if you can finally breathe, relax.

You don’t know why you’re here, not really. All you know was that you couldn’t sleep and you felt the need to wander, take your mind off things. The next thing you know, you’re already outside the academy grounds, visiting a place you’ve frequented before, though not anymore.

As far as everyone’s concerned, it’s an abandoned building, off-limits to everyone, especially students. There were even rumors of a ghost lurking around at one point, though in all the times you’ve been here, you’ve never encountered one. Most likely a scare tactic, you suppose, to keep the students from being too curious, nosy. It worked well enough, anyway, and in your favor too; in a matter of months, this has become your most favorite place, the only thing you could call yours.

Home, you think, if home could be anywhere in the world right now. Still, it hasn’t been home for a while now, not after everything that’s happened. There’s too much memory in here, too much feeling, lingering around the corners like a miasma. The things you’ve never said out loud, things you wish you could change. If you could take it all back and redo it all over it again, would you do it?

But you’re not here to dwell on past regrets. Absently, you wander around the place, trying to see what’s changed, if anything even has. It looks just like it always did, if not a little older, more… abandoned. There’s rust everywhere now, spots of them scattered here and there, looking too much like dried blood that it makes you nervous. You shove your hands in your pockets, trying to find what little warmth you could in this place, and it works but not nearly enough.

Still, you press on, reconnecting what you know of the past to what you’re seeing now in the present. Ever since you’ve stopped visiting, there seems not to be any fresh activity. You snort, then shake your head at the thought. What would you expect? You’re only one of the few people who know about this place, and if there’s one thing you’re absolutely certain of, it’s that none of them would be inclined to share. You’d each considered this place sacred once, sacrosanct, and maybe there’s something of that sacredness still lingering somewhere.

A piece of a memory you’re still reluctant to let go of just yet. Something that binds you still, even if you’re no longer inseparable. You wander around the place, glancing here and there, trying not to get lost too much in memories, nostalgia. Once upon a time, it wouldn’t have just been you doing the wandering, but it’s all in the past now, and you’re all alone. Not that it matters. You’d made your choice then, and it’s time to live with it now.

As it turns out, you’re not exactly all alone. There’s a figure in the corner, standing against the railing, watching the stars or maybe just lost in thoughts, reminiscing. You can’t really tell from a distance, and from where you stand, it’s not easy to see who it is. Their face is cloaked in shadows, almost hidden from view.

All you can make out is that they’re taller, not quite familiar. He’s wearing a robe unlike you, so at the very least, it means that he’s a student. Unfortunately, there are as many students in the academy as there are stars in the sky. You square your shoulders as you slowly walk over to where they are, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to bring your wand.

“Hey,” the figure says as soon as you’re close enough. Familiar, you think, unmistakable, though it takes you a moment to match the name.

“Ominis,” you say, coming to stand beside him. You lean against the railing, careful to keep some distance between you, because as close as you were with him once, you’re not those people anymore. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe you’re the only one who’s changed. “How’d you know it’s me?”

“Your footsteps.” The corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “You haven’t changed at all, you know.”

“Haven’t I?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from him to stare at the sky above you: bright, twinkling with stars, infinite with every possibility. You don’t feel the same at all. You never have. Some days, you look at a mirror and you don’t even recognize yourself. Maybe there’s never an old you somewhere. Maybe all you’ve got are his memories of you and nothing else.

“Maybe you have,” he replies, conceding. From the corners of your eyes, you catch him drumming his fingers against the railing, humming under his breath as he thinks. “But there’s still the old you in there somewhere.”

“And you can tell how?” you can’t help the bite in your voice, the sharpness. It comes out automatically, some kind of reflex, and you mentally curse yourself because you’re not here to fight, to ruin things between you once again. Still, you’re not sure if you’re here to patch things up.

He seems unfazed by your sudden shift in tone. “Because I know you,” he replies, says the words like they’re the most obvious thing in the world. The only thing. Then, very quietly, he adds: “Like the back of my hand.”

Do you, is what you want to ask him, because it’s true. Does he still know you after everything you’ve done? Would he still want to? But instead, you hum under your breath, let it go, nodding in agreement because it’s easier and you don’t have to pretend. Or deal with the consequences, the weight of all the things unsaid. Are you even ready to hear his answer?

Instead, you change the subject: “What are you doing here?”

“To think,” he replies with a hum. He’s quiet for a second, thoughtful. “I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.”

“You can tell me all about it,” you say, the words spilling out of you instinctive and automatic. A learned reflex, dug up from a past you’ve already long left behind, buried in an attempt to forget. Once upon a time, it’s the first thing you’ll say. This line of conversation is familiar – a scene acted out so many times it’s embedded in you, impossible to forget. You almost expect him to play along with it, complaining like he used to when you were both still younger, stupid. More naïve.

“Like old times, huh?” he jokes, laughing just a little. There’s a tiny smile playing about the corners of his lips, but then he shakes his head, looks away, the smile fading, disappearing. He huffs out a quiet breath, almost like a sigh, then tilts his head skyward, quiet for the longest time. Briefly, you wonder if he could see the beauty of the sky, could sense how things seem to have changed. If he could sense that same changes in you. “It’s nothing.”

If you were still the old you, it would’ve been easy to coax the answers out of him, get him to spill the truth. You’d always had a way with him, after all, as he’d told you once. But you’re not that person anymore. You haven’t been for a long time. You shrug, turn away from him. You don’t miss the disappointed look he gives you, sharp as a dagger to the heart. “If you say so.”

-

It's getting late now, and neither of you have said anything else. Or made an excuse to leave. It feels odd, standing here beside him, basking in the silence, that gentle atmosphere you’ve almost forgot until now. You’ve been expecting conversations, accusations, an argument or two – perhaps even a fight, or something close to it. What you’re not expecting, however, is the complete silence between you: natural, comfortable, as though this were in the past, where everything’s perfect, where nothing bad has happened just yet.

There’s a part of you that wishes he’d demand you for answers. Or get angry. It’s more believable, anyway, and you’d know how to deal with him then. You’ve spent nights tossing and turning in your sleep, dreaming about this moment, wondering what he’d say to you when you see each other again.

There’s a thousand different ways this meeting could go. You’ve played out the scenarios, conjured the possibilities, each one slightly different. This isn’t on any of them. With a frown, you watch him from the corners of your eyes, keeping yourself alert for any changes. He looks like he always has, that same face you see in your dreams, only older, slightly different. And he’s smiling, too: the kind of smile that used to make your heart flutter because it’s pretty, it’s serene – it’s all for you.

You’re not expecting that. He looks content, genuinely so, and for a second, it feels like you’re back in the past again, spending time with him because you’re friends, because you want to, because it’s what friends do, and it hurts. He shouldn’t be happy, or content, especially not with you. Not with everything you’ve done. And yet he is, and it only serves to make you more guilty.

You turn your head, stare at him. He’s not stupid, you know, and yet it’s odd that he hasn’t breathed a word about your past. What you did. What you said. Why you fought. You figure that it’d come up between you sooner or later, but he hasn’t yet. Has he truly forgot? Or is he trying to get you to lower your guard, be the first to give in? You can’t tell, and it’s at this moment that you wish there’s a spell to allow you to read his mind.

“What is it?” he asks, turns his head in your direction. “You look like you want to say something.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ve been staring at me since earlier,” he shoots back. When you still don’t say anything, he frowns, continues. “And I can tell when you’re lying, you know. We wouldn’t be friends if I don’t know you like the back of my hand.”

His voice has grown softer, fonder, and there’s that phrase again, the one you’re beginning to hate with a passion because it isn’t true, and it hasn’t been for a long time.

You purse your lips together, stare at him blankly. Your voice is quiet now, barely audible even in the silence. “Do you?”

He gives you a smile, though it’s more bittersweet than anything. “Don’t I?”

You shake your head, breathe out a sigh, looking away from him. It’s no use starting an argument. You don’t even know why you’re being like this: prickly and combative, but you suppose you’ve got so used to it that you find it hard to be anything else. It’s always easier like this, after all. “I’m sorry,” you say, and the words feel strange on your tongue, almost foreign.  “I don’t want to argue.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” he hums. He sounds almost amused. “Arguing?”

“No,” you say, and then frown. It’s true enough, isn’t it? You’re not arguing and yet you’re not conversing either, because having a conversation means addressing the elephant in the room – you. How you still haven’t apologized to him before: for betraying him, breaking his heart. Choosing someone else, and finally, the worst sin of all: siding against him. How you haven’t reached out to him after all that, and how you probably never will if things had gone your way.

Since when did you change into someone who doesn’t know how to apologize? Someone who couldn’t acknowledge their own mistakes, or the fact that they hurt the only few people who loved them?

It’d be better if he’d just called you out on it, demanded it from you. Apologies, answers. Something that would’ve made him understand you better. Or perhaps even revenge, just to get back at you for all you’d put him through. It’d be easier, you’re sure of it. It’ll be what you deserve.

But he’s quiet, still not saying anything, and that alone already feels like a trap. You give him a sideways glance, catching the smile on his lips: soft, warm. Familiar. This close, he looks almost like an angel – a saint, someone who could give you the absolution you want, the forgiveness you needed. (There’s a voice in the back of your head, asking you the right question: do you even deserve it?)

You close your eyes, suck in a deep breath. “Ominis, I—”

He stops you quickly, cuts you off before the words could even leave your lips. “I know.”

You stare at him, blinking a few times. You can’t keep the surprise out of your voice, or that hint of confusion, growing by the second. “Do you?”

“Of course,” he says, and here, his voice has grown softer again, warmer. There’s a familiar ache in your chest, a recognizable flutter in the pit of your stomach. Like in the past, you think. But you’re not in there now; you’re here in the present, watching as he slowly reaches for you, fumbling for your hand in the dark, takes it in his. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You don’t say anything to that, because you aren’t sure how true it is anymore. Sure, you’d been friends once, perhaps even more at one point, but it’s all in the past now, isn’t it? Now you’re not even sure where you stand with him, or where he’s going with this.

But he’s relentless, refusing to give up. You don’t stop him, don’t push him away even as he moves a little, inching ever closer to you – not close enough to overwhelm, but still enough that you could feel him beside you: a steady presence, real and solid and warm. “And I told you before, didn’t I?”

It’s a weird feeling, letting him hold your hand, allowing him to be this close. Not exactly in a bad way, you think – just odd, mostly because you’re just not used to it anymore. Still, you can’t deny the comfort this little gesture brings you. Even now, this part of you still hasn’t changed. Maybe he’d been wrong all along. Maybe he’s the one who has a way with you, after all. You eye him curiously, licking your lips before you speak. “Told me what?”

When he realizes you’re not pulling away, he turns to give you a smile, squeezes your hand once: careful, gentle, like he’s afraid you’re going to walk away if he does anything too much, too fast. But still, the warmth is there, buried beneath everything he wishes to say but can’t. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, breathless like he’s revealing a secret, some form of weakness – a thing reserved only for you. “That I know you like the back of my hand.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, but maybe you don’t need to. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, then look up, staring at him for a few more moments, trying to read through his face, his expression, see if he’s lying.

He doesn’t seem like he is. He’s still smiling, though it doesn’t seem fake or forced. He looks content. Satisfied. As though he’s just glad to be here with you again: talking, standing together. Holding your hand. It’s nice, even if you don’t have the courage to admit it just yet.

Hesitantly, you squeeze back, and you’re rewarded by the sight of his smile widening just a little, his eyes crinkling in a way that awakens every single emotion you’ve long since buried. You smile back at him even if he can’t see it, feeling like you can finally breathe again.

[guppybibi]

SCREAMINF i loved that akito fic …… umm …,,.. can i req another

recently i’ve been learning iz*one’s secret story of the swan and ngl im kind of becoming a danceaholic so… this is basically just a self indulgent request

can you do toya + a gf who overdances like too much? like, legs are shaking, stomach hurting from holding her core, one knee red and bruised from redoing the choreography 45 times .. (not projecting at all)

and basically just him taking care of you if that’s ok!! ty and uhhh swan swan swan

oh and also also if ur taking anons can i be ☀️ anon? if not just ignore that ,,,,, take ur time ily 🫶🏻

𖦹 pairing: Toya Aoyagi x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Toya being the biggest sweetheart, mostly fluff with some hints of Toya’s past !!

𖦹 notes: haii thank chu ☀️anon! I didn't really focus on the dancing part (since I have no idea how it works..i can't dance.) and mostly just focused on toya taking care of u so i hope that's fine!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*⋆*･ﾟ⋆*･ﾟ

Toya can be described with a fair lot of words, and ‘supportive’ is no doubt one of them. So in no world would he try to stop you from taking these dance lessons, I mean–you supported his passion in street music through and through so why wouldn't he do so as well? Well it didn't start so serious, for the first few weeks you would simply just search up some dance tutorials on YouTube and follow each step with the perfect amount of grace needed. He found it eyecatching if he was going to be honest, the fact that you're pursuing something you want to actually pursue in the first place makes his heart swell. When you told him you signed up for a dance class he was beaming, he didn't give it a second thought at all, even if he did it was entirely up to you.

He wasn't going to stop you, no–not now, not ever. A good relationship allows both people to grow in all aspects possible, not bring them down or keep them there at the bottom. But when you came back from one of these lessons with a bunch of bruises and an aching leg, this was enough to ring an alarm in his mind. “Did you trip over?” He knows this was an obviously stupid question, no normal person would simply just trip and get this hurt. Unless you were accident prone or something, so he shouldn't jump into conclusions.

“Mmh, you could say that.” What a strangely vague answer, was it something embarrassing? Did you fall over while stretching or something? He sighs, not bothering to push you into saying it any further, though he knew deep down it was probably because of all the dancing you've been doing. He’s going to scold you later, what matters now is the fact you're hurt and he needed to help. “Lay down, please.” He requests before going over to the kitchen, the amount of trust he has that you’ll actually do what he says is worth congratulating. Technically you could've just not followed him but his trust isn't worth shattering, so you do as said.

A few minutes later he comes back with an ice pack and a cup of ginger tea, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he sees you sitting prettily on the couch. He sits right next to you, propping a pillow under your legs for elevation. “I’m not sick y’know, I'm perfectly fine.” You receive the sound of him clicking his tongue, shaking his head as he grabs the ice pack, placing them on your numerous bruises.

“It's nothing too serious–” He cuts you off, mentally hoping that you didn't feel offended with how blunt he is or the deadpanned expression on his face.

“Yet, not yet. It's better to take care of it now before letting it get worse. You can keep going to these classes but promise to at least rest when you get home?” He asks, wishing for some kind of agreement with you. He knew how painful overworking yourself was, he knew too well. The only difference here is that this was something you were actually passionate about, so it must've been your willpower to continue. “Fine, I promise..if you watch the choreography we did earlier!” Making him chuckle and shake his head side to side in defeat, he couldn't say no to you!

“Aren't you tired from repeating the same moves?” “Nope, I could keep doing them if my body let me!” How hard headed..if he wasn't here you would've probably danced until your legs fell off. “Sure, show me and then you rest, ‘kay?” You nod and stand up enthusiastically, preparing the music on your phone before you start the routine.

Your moves were graceful, almost like the gorgeous yet dangerous waves of the ocean. Though he did silently cringe at all the marks on your legs, at least you were happy. That's all that mattered to him. He was captivated by you, he doesn't even notice how you stop moving and the music stops playing. “Did I do well, hun?” You asked, trying your hardest to keep your feet on the floor and not start jumping. The tip of his ears turn red, not so used to the loving pet name. “Mhm, you did wonderful, love. Now, get to rest. I'll mix something up for dinner–” “WAIT–No! I’ll cook, please let me cook–” He shoots you a confused look, making you smile sheepishly.

“I can assure you I can cook something simple for you.” “Without burning down the house or giving me food poisoning?” “What…?” “Uhh haha, nothing! Um..I’ll lay back down..” You gulp, instantly praying for your already aching stomach.

He may not be the best at showering you with comforting words, but the way he treats you like a shard of delicate glass and all of his other little actions was enough to prove how much he adored you.

[hollycircling]

would you consider dropping some tips on how you color? your art always has such a nice feeling to it

Thank you so much, and yes, absolutely! 

So... I have been agonizing over how to answer this question for over a week because I tend to make a lot of my major decisions based on what looks and feels good to me in the moment. It’s sort of hard to explain. Then I started getting philosophical with it (“how does one color? How do I explain aesthetic?”), and I started rambling, and had to cut the answer way, way, way down lol.

But here’s what I can help with right now. I think the most important part of how I color is my tools and what they allow me to do. These are currently my favorite brushes to use: 

From top to bottom, I use Kyle T’s Gouache for just about everything. A lot of my recent pieces are done entirely in that– I love the chunky texture and how the pressure mimics traditional gouache. It’s great for children’s book illustrations, and filling linework, and realistic portraits. She is my soft wife and I love her. 

I practically never use the default hard round. Ignore that. 

The roller brush is another one I use for painting. It was my go-to before KT’s gouache, so you’ll find it a lot in my older work (and as a big texture thing in my current works). The “Sampled Tip” below that one I usually use for children’s book styled illustrations. It’s like a really dense, waxy crayon, so it’s fun for textured lines and details.

I always paint in my own shadows and highlights, but I like to use the soft round if I want to blow the shadow or highlight out. It’s for extra large areas.

And finally my pencil. I use it for sketching as well as linework, if I plan on doing a linework-centric piece. I don’t think there’s much of a difference between the two there… one is probably smoother than the other. 

______________

The reason why I like textured, pressure-sensitive brushes so much is because they’re important to how I paint. When I blend, I don’t use a blender brush or a smudge tool. What I do is layer two colors– lightly– then use the eyedropper to select the color between them and continue painting with it. That’s probably the key to most of my work. I’ve gotten pretty fast at it, so I’m constantly selecting colors from the painting and reusing it throughout my painting. 

I still use the color-wheel to hand-pick what I think will look best, though. This is probably going to be a really frustrating answer, but I choose color palettes based on basic color/lighting theory combined with personal aesthetic preference. It can take some studying (of both theory and other artists’ work). If you’re ever looking for a really great reference on the former subjects, I highly recommend Color and Light by James Gurny. Even if you’re not into watercolor or dinosaurs or realism, the guy is a master at explaining all that different stuff in depth. 

Shape and negative space are also pretty important to me, but that's a whole other thing. And as a side-note, I recommend following more children’s book illustrators. Their work may look simple, but a lot of intention goes into how they use color, shape, space, and texture. 

Also, on texture, I hand-draw most of mine. I love to add little scratches and drops and splashes when the painting is almost over. It's one of my favorite things to do :')

____

Now, the other most important tip:

Once I’m happy with the sketch/linework, and once I’ve laid down the basic colors of my piece, I do a Really Terrible Thing. I become a graphic designer’s worst nightmare and collapse everything onto one layer. 

Then I paint directly on top of it, linework and all.

I do this for a lot of reasons, but mostly because 1) my tiny brain is overwhelmed by the clutter of too many layers, and 2) it forces me to approach a piece as if it was traditional media– a process which I find a lot more comfortable and rewarding. I paint right on top of the base colors, and right on top of the linework, effectively redoing and cleaning up what I already have there. Even if I'm working with a blank background, I'll paint a new blank one on top because it gives the feeling of a more unified piece, if that makes sense.

Basically, I approach my drawings as if I’m using traditional media. I like chunky brushes, utilizing (what I personally think are) interesting color combinations and textures, and smashing everything down onto one page so I can just paint. 

Anyway, please let me know if there’s anything specific you’d like me to go into detail on, any pieces of mine you’d like to know how exactly I went about it, etc etc etc. I’m happy to answer ^^

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @kiwiana-writes for the tag!! I did this back in like... October, and a LOT has changed since then lol

How many works do you have on ao3?

29

What's your total ao3 word count?

299,988 (though this includes 110,000 from the co-written PJO AU and 2,000 words from Manu's fic that I podficced to)

What fandoms do you write for?

Only RWRB for now, though never say never to others. I recently read Check, Please! and I've had some thoughts, but I have far too many WIPs for RWRB to write them rn. Also I have some ideas for The Pairing, but again, I have... so many RWRB wips...

Top five fics by kudos:

Longer Than Most | 26K, trans Henry accidental pregnancy (also this is how I found out it had become my top kudos-ed fic AH)

The Super Six Take a Lie Detector Test | Vanity Fair | 7K, YouTube interview

Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) | 6K, epistolary roommates

Claremont 2008 | 28K, canon divergence where Ellen gets elected in 2008, childhood friends to lovers

(Dil)Do It Yourself | 17K, meet cute at a DIY dildo workshop

Do you respond to comments?

I really try to. But. I have gotten quite behind recently. I would love to catch up but it's just a bit overwhelming at the moment.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really have any angsty endings?? but a fic @affectionatelyrs and I are working on is going to have an ambiguous ending and my joke is that someone should the version of it where things take the angsty route

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I mostly write happy endings, but I am going to say that Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) is the happiest because it's kinda the tropiest

Do you get hate on fics?

Not hate, but I've gotten one or two weird comments, or comments asking about updates.

Do you write smut?

I do! (this is one of the things that's changed since the fall)

Craziest crossover:

The closest I've gotten to a crossover is the PJO AU, but that's not even an actual crossover.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!! Super Six and the Siren's Call with @inexplicablymine and @read-and-write- was the first, and then I wrote Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) with @affectionatelyrs. I also did the podficcing of the voice notes for love has a voice (and it's yours) by Manu. I've also got a couple more projects coming up with Jamie also.

All time favorite ship?

Well that I've written for, FirstPrince :)

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Unfortunately I don't know if I'll ever finish Baby's First Pride because I've grown a ton as a writer since then and I would want to redo the old chapters and that just isn't all the compelling to me anymore...

What are your writing strengths?

I fucking hate this question. But I am going with dialogue and humor (and humorous dialogue) which has been co-signed by others so I feel less weird about saying this.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I would like to be able to keep smut more concise at times, because it always turns into a Big Scene but it doesn't always need to be a Big Scene. And I've been trying to work on a particular style of writing which is a bit more uhhh snappy? I don't know how to describe it. But that's still a huge work in progress, because I always get more rambly than I want.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I definitely try to include it for the characters in RWRB who speak other languages, and when I do I lean on my friends who speak those languages as a native speaker.

First fandom you wrote in?

Officially: RWRB. For myself: HP.

Favorite fic you've written?

Honestly it's always whatever I'm working on at the moment, which is a couple of WIPs: Fire Island WIP, Parasocial Relationship AU with @affectionatelyrs, and my Big Bang fic come to mind.

But really I want to know what y'all's favorite fic of mine is!!!!

I'll tag 20 people, sorry if anyone's done this recently, but in case anyone wants to go again: @mainstreamelectricalparade @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist @littlemisskittentoes @gay-flyboys

and @songliili @gayrootvegetable @leojfitz @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

and @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @captainjunglegym @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise

and @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @bribumblebee @nocoastposts @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway!!!

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Who should Luca be shipped with?: Redo

If you saw my previous post/poll, I ask that you please disregard it! I didn't realize that so many people would vote for Riddle, when I personally expected for the others to be voted for instead. I have a lot of doubts and worries when it comes to Riddle and Luca being a thing, so I wouldn't really have fun with it. So I've decided to remake my original post/poll, this time excluding Riddle! ♡

Hello everyone! ♡ As I mentioned before, I love exploring character dynamics, and I'm honestly not sure who to ship Luca with (from the main cast, that is!)

His real true canon ship will always be with Octa A (still gotta figure out a name for him lol ♡) but I thought it would be fun for him to have a ship with someone from the main cast too, as a treat lol ♡

I will give a brief explanation of Luca's relationship/dynamic with each character you can choose from, so please make sure to read them before you vote!

Please note that each relationship/dynamic I talk about will be platonic until I decide on someone ♡

Sebek Zigvolt: A lot of things are new for Luca, unused to being on the surface. One of the reasons why he enjoys interacting with others so much is the opportunity it gives him to learn, to talk and listen and ask questions. So he would be more than happy to listen as Sebek spoke of Malleus, Briar Valley, Lilia, his grandfather/family, etc. Sebek's attitude or way of speaking wouldn't turn him away, navigating the conversation with amusement. He appreciates Luca taking the time to listen to him, even if he doesn't say it. Since they both enjoy reading, Luca would go to Sebek for book recommendations, discussing each book with him once he was finished. While Sebek may act like the crocodile stickers Luca gives him are childish, he does cherish them, keeping them tucked between the pages of a book (even using one of them as a bookmark). A book that just so happens to be the first one he ever recommended for Luca to read. His favorite, in fact. (He would deny it if someone saw them though, slamming the book shut as he shouts)

Silver Vanrouge: Luca's best subject is animal linguistics, and he would be so excited to meet Silver's animal friends! Some would be new to him, or animals he's only heard/seen pictures of, asking Silver about them. Quiet conversations, seeing each other in club meetings, waving to each other in passing. If he saw Silver asleep somewhere, he would make sure to wake him up, sticking a sticker on his face afterwords. The stickers he gave Silver were usually of birds, with the exception of a few horse stickers he was willing to part with. Luca has a habit of making food to bring to club meetings, noticing how much Silver and Sebek seemed to enjoy it.

Jade Leech: While Luca and Jade didn't know each other personally growing up, they were familiar with each other's families, their mothers having been friends. Luca shares Jade's fascination with life on the surface, the plants, the animals. He would listen to him talk about his hikes in the mountains, his terrariums and mushrooms. Luca is able to surprise him, never knowing what he'll say or do next. Oh, you're willing to try this mushroom for a few stickers? Sounds like a deal to him. Even if one of the stickers ends up on his face. They work well together in the Lounge, navigating tables and customers with ease. Sometimes Luca can be a bit too friendly though, and Jade has to remind him to stay professional. Yes, surely that was the reason...

Che'nya: I just think it would be fun to see them interact with each other lol ♡ The silly cat beastman with the silly anglerfish mer? Ultimate silliness, everyone beware lol ♡

If you think I looked over or missed someone better suited for Luca, please feel free to let me know! ♡

To be fair, I will include Riddle's dynamic with Luca, in case you were curious about it! ♡ (If you still think Riddle and Luca should be a thing, please leave a comment letting me know why! I will need some heavy convincing to help dissuade my worries/doubts...)

Riddle Rosehearts: A lot of things are new for Luca, unused to being on the surface. One of the reasons why he enjoys interacting with others so much is the opportunity it gives him to learn, to talk and listen and ask questions. Since they're in the Equestrian club together, Riddle is one of the people he turns to whenever he has a question, listening and taking his knowledge to heart. Riddle enjoys his eagerness for learning, how excited he gets whenever he discovers something (like when he learned horses were real, for example) He also appreciates how Luca does his best to follow the rules, and tries to be nice when his questions get to be a bit...nonsensical. When a new stationary store opens on Sage's Island, they're both excited for it, but for different reasons...

Luca: A new stationary store means...stickers!! Riddle: A new stationary store means...school supplies!!

Thank you! ♡

Tagging some moots to get their opinion (if you don't wish to be tagged, please let me know!): @scint1llat3, @skriblee-ksk, @boopshoops, @nicoliharu, @cheerleaderman

@offorestsongs, @kimetsu-chan, @0honeybones0