#if i work on this more i might change up some proportions

[quinn-cyd]

gravity falls but if it were a top down character driven game ...

[alternautxyz]

uuhhh in other new that lmk s5 trailer dropped and people are very

mixed

for context the new season is being partly animated by wildbrain i think. flying bark is still working on the show but probably due to all the other projects they've been working on like the atla movie the animation is off.

its understandable that people are upset. lmk has some of the most consistently dynamic and lively animation ive ever seen, and going from that to ok animation kinda sucks. as a culmination of a lot of what the series has been building up to people were inevitably going to be disappointed

at the same time people shouldnt harass animators. like ever. no amount of trying to petition or anything will change the s5, people are just trying to do their job and theres no probably no major changing to the finished product by now. and theres still a lot of that lmk charm in there, and we haven't even seen the whole season yet to judge it. flying bark is still working on it, and even if the animation never reaches the peak of the old seasons it still has the same writers so at least the writing has the chance to live up old standards. idk though we'll just have to wait and see

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[thylacines-toybox]

Hey, I found a beanie boo that I liked the design of but I can't stand those giant uguu eyes. Do you think it would be possible to replace them with smaller safety eyes akin to the old beanie babies? If yes, do you have any advice?

I was gonna answer this in a normal way, but then I got curious about trying it for myself and thought I might as well demonstrate!

So, I went and picked up a guy from the supermarket. The selection there was pretty barren today but I found a decent test subject:

Eye replacement procedure below!

(First of all, to my friend who loves beanie boos, I am so sorry for this lmao)

So! First I opened up the closing seam on his back. However, I found an extra mesh barrier inside! Clearly this is to prevent bean escape since this is the most likely seam to accidentally pop open through play. This would be a bit annoying to work around so I just sewed it back up and went in the back of the head instead…

Opened and unstuffed the head…

…And turning it inside out to get to the backs of the eyes. Whoa, these plastic washers are the biggest I’ve ever seen!! Cutting through them will take some work!

Please be very careful of your fingers cutting through these!! Be careful not to cut the fabric around the eye too, but mostly be careful of yourself!

Anyway grrrrrrr attack attack slice slice grrrr

They’re out! With a little glue I think the washers would be able to hold on perfectly well again. I’ll keep these eyes to reuse on something where they’ll be a bit more proportional!

The washers on these eyes are particularly cup shaped, fitting around the back of the eye and holding the fabric tightly against them. Now that the eyes are removed, this has left imprints on the fur!

Plenty of brushing and rumfling will help to fix the creased and flattened areas of fur, and wetting the fur or gently steaming over a hot cup of water should help too. It might take a little time!

(Also, I did make a little cut in the cheek while removing a washer, oops! No worries, that can be stitched up.)

Now we can try on a few new eye styles! Restuff the head for now so you can see how they’ll look.

I have a few sizes of solid black, from teeny dots to absolute tbh creature…

These blue eyes were a little scary… no thanks!

I even have some glittery ones like the original, but smaller! Pretty nice actually!

And even some googly eyes hehehe!

But my favourite eyes were some basic 9mm black ones! They are placed a little funny here, but the position will change a little bit…

The holes left by the original eyes were very big, so a couple of stitches are needed on each one to tighten them up to fit the new eyes. I stitched the top outer corners, to move the holes down and inwards a bit. If you wanted, you could even sew them closed completely and make new eye holes elsewhere!

Unstuff again and pop those new eyes in!

Restuff! You might actually need to add a little extra stuffing, as the fabric not being so pulled around the eyes any more will mean it is a little ‘baggier’.

Then sew the head closed again and that’s about it! The fur is still a little creased around mine, but I’ll keep working at it and it should become less visible.

To add a tiny bit more shape to the big round head, I also did a touch of threadsculpting. I ran a thread from the corner of each eye to below the chin and back, just pulling the eyes in a tad more. You might decide you don’t need this!

And there we go! Hope you’ll try it yourself!

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Inspiration (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you struggle coming up with new designs for the Nine, and the Lord of Gifts helps you overcome your creative block

Warnings: smut (p in v, cockwarming, tease and denial, dom!Annatar vibes), reader hesitates at first because she’s surprised by Annatar’s advances but she’s on board with it, manipulation cause she doesn’t know Annatar is Sauron, small discrepancies with the canon timeline for the sake of the fic’s (very little) plot, unrealistic(?) method of solving artistic blocks (the irony is that I wrote this fic to get out of writer’s block with another one and it worked😆)

Mature content below the cut - minors DNI!!!

“How fares your progress?”

Lord Annatar’s voice nearly startles you when you see him approach. You thought you were alone in the forge room, with nothing but your thoughts and the unfinished Ring designs currently staring in defiance up at you from a piece of paper.

“Well enough,” you say, reflexively. Then sigh, letting your pencil fall on the table. “Well, in fact... it is slow,” you confess, glancing at Annatar as he walks towards you. You wince internally when he looks over your shoulder at your sketches. “My skills are no match for Lord Celebrimbor’s, and even he has had difficulty finding the right designs.”

“And yet he chose you alone to carry on with the efforts in his absence,” he argues, even when faced with what you deem to be your far-less-than-satisfactory attempts. Looking up, you find him offering you a sympathetic smile. “You sell yourself short, my friend. It is a real pity.”

You avert your gaze, attempting yet surely failing to conceal your fluster. His compliments, however small, always have a sincerity about them that touches you deeply.

Lord Celebrimbor had, quite literally, worked himself into oblivion after one too many failed attempts at crafting the Nine, and more hours without rest than even an Elf could endure. He had refused to retire to his chamber for some much needed sleep until he had fainted upon his own worktable, and even then, he had refused for anyone but you to even attempt to create new designs for future tries in his absence. He had been odd, of late, mistrusting and, dare you say, even irresponsible at times. But you were his oldest and most trusted apprentice, and that seemed to earn you some of the good will he still had left.

Not that you feel he has made you much of a favour, leaving you to labour alone on such an intricate task. You are not exactly freshly rested yourself, and you have seen so many Ring designs in the past few weeks, you seem to have been drained of the ability to come up with any fresh ones.

There was only one idea you had that might help you, and you had risen from your seat and sat back down two or three times already, changing your mind about whether you should seek out Lord Annatar or not. Whether it would be appropriate. Now that he has come to you, however...

“I was wondering...” Your eyes wonder about the room, hesitating to meet his. “If it isn’t too bold to ask...”

“Be at ease,” Annatar intercedes with that same gentle smile, and it isn’t so difficult to look at him anymore. “My very purpose here is to aid you in your endeavours. You need not hesitate to ask for my help.”

All of a sudden, you feel quite silly for ever doubting you could speak with him openly. He has been most willing to share his knowledge as he worked closely with you these past few weeks. It’s just that now, he has taken on Celebrimbor’s duties as Lord of Eregion as well, and you hate to feel as though you are keeping him from more important matters simply because you cannot seem to handle your own given task.

“It’s just that I feel so... utterly uninspired,” you confess, casting a dismayed look to the sketch-filled papers in front of you. “The proportions, the aesthetics... I cannot seem to get all the elements right at the same time and the more I try, the farther I stray from the desired result.” You raise your gaze to Annatar’s. “Might you spare a moment to assist me, if only with one design? I’m sure it’ll be inspiration enough for me to finish the others whilst you tend to the affairs of the city.”

“Of course,” he says, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. With the other, he picks up the piece of paper, and you are now grateful that his attention is solely on the drawings, for the sudden contact has made you rather flustered. “You see,” Annatar says, contemplating the sketches, “sometimes the artist’s mind, though creative as ever, tends to... restrict itself, in the most frustrating way. So great is the desire for perfection in the end result, that it stifles the natural flow of the precious ideas without which no result may be reached at all.”

You resonate with the wise words, but you are not sure you understand the advice they carry.

“Are you suggesting I... draw whatever design I like first and worry about the practical aspects of it later?”

“I am suggesting,” he says, putting the paper down, “that you do not worry at all.” You frown. With that, you do not resonate at all. But your main focus now is that Annatar steps behind you, this time placing his hands on both your shoulders. Your heartbeat quickens as he speaks, at leisure, “That you do not even... think about the task at hand—not entirely—and that you simply... give in to your most natural instincts.”

“I am... not sure I understand,” you say quietly.

After a moment’s silence, Annatar asks, “May I show you?”

You knit your brow, unsure. You had expected him to help you by simply completing one of the sketches, or even just discussing some new ideas. These cryptic words, along with the physical contact, is all quite peculiar.

But you do trust him. You more than trust him, if you’re being honest. That is why the sudden closeness feels rather nice, though you do not wish to make a fool of yourself by showing it.

In the end, you give a small nod.

“Very well,” he says, and you hear the pleased smile in his voice. “For that, you need only resume your work, and trust me.”

Failing at producing quality designs right before his eyes doesn’t sound exactly ideal, but you put your faith in his methods, whatever they are. You pick up the pencil once more, bring a fresh sheet of paper before you, and begin your fumbling attempts anew.

You note—how could you not?—that Annatar has yet to remove his hands from your shoulders. Because of that, you sit more upright than you usually do, but you doubt changing your posture is his sole purpose. Slowly, he begins to move, thumbs brushing your skin, then softly pressing down onto it in a languid rhythm.

You are grateful that he cannot see the wide-eyed surprise on your face as it dawns on you that the Lord of Gifts himself is giving you, a common Elf, a massage. His thumbs come to knead the flesh at the base of your neck on either side of your spine, and the slight pressure feels divine, especially when you have spent so many hours hunched over the table. You bite down an audible sigh, willing your hand not to waver while you work. You still do not feel particularly inspired, but if he meant to bring you relief from the constant stress of the past few weeks, his efforts are most certainly appreciated.

You mean to offer him a polite and rather bashful thank you, when one of his hands begins to stray. His fingers leave a tingling trail across your skin as he draws them up your neck, softly cupping your jaw from behind. You are quite stunned by the gesture, and find yourself retracing the same pencil line a few unnecessary times before you move on. His fingertips graze their slow way up your jaw, straying briefly through your hair before they reach your earlobe. It’s almost as though he is drawing his own intricate pattern along your skin, and your hand slows in its movements as your heart races in your chest.

Surely, he would not— oh, but if only he did—

And he does. His fingers take their sweet time tracing the shell of your ear, and finally, they reach the tip, where they catch the pointed bit of flesh between them, tugging ever so gently.

Your breath catches in your throat, shivers rain down your spine, and your hand freezes on the page. Because your kind do not touch one another’s ears in such a manner unless they are, or wish to be, courting. The simple reason is that, as you are now vividly reminded, those pointed tips are quite sensitive to touch, erogenous in nature for most Elves—including yourself.

You do not question Annatar’s wisdom or the grace with which he has assimilated into your ways of life, but perhaps he is somehow not aware of this particular intimacy-related aspect? Should you let him know, as courteously as possible? But then how would you explain that you had felt his intent, and despite having been given all the time in the world before his fingers had reached that most tender spot, you had done nothing at all to prevent such a caress?

Before you can decide, his hand returns to your shoulder, any movement halted.

“Is something the matter?” he questions, concerned.

You cannot tell him. You simply cannot. In truth, you miss the touch already.

“No—” you clear your throat, willing the waver out of your voice. “No, my lord.”

“Then, why have you stopped?”

He sounds genuinely curious, as though he could not fathom what had affected you so. You give no answer, other than to put pencil to paper once more. The moment you resume your work, his hands resume theirs—massaging, caressing. He does not touch your ears again, though his fingers do come dangerously close to doing so as he runs them through your hair, and you berate yourself for hoping each time that they would find those sensitive peaks again, catch them in their delicious hold.

So distracted you are by the prospect of it and the images you strive to continue creating, you do not even sense Annatar leaning down. Not until you catch a glimpse of long, blonde hair at the periphery of your vision, and then there is the soft graze of his lips over your neck. You draw in a sharp breath as your skin is set alight, and the pencil slips from your fingers.

“My lord!” you gasp, chest heaving as you whip around to fix him with a most alarmed look. There is no misinterpreting the intent behind that particular gesture, and he knows it very well.

But he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest as he stands to his full height, seeming to you more majestic in appearance than ever as you look up at him.

“Keep drawing,” he instructs calmly. “Unless you wish for me to stop.”

Your brow furrows even further, your confusion growing, and then—

It all clicks in your mind.

The rules he has demonstrated thus far are simple enough: you stop, he stops. It’s both a condition and a reassurance. You do not have to outright refuse him. You need only refuse to continue drawing, and he shall leave you be, and all will return to the way it was before. But if you do pick up the pencil, it would be tantamount to confessing to the desire you have held secret within your heart for weeks, and that would change everything. Not to mention it would be unprofessional. Most inappropriate.

Your skin still sings where he has touched it.

Be it courage or folly, you turn away from him, pick up the pencil, and draw.

You think you can feel a smile on his lips as they return to your neck. This time, you close your eyes, finally able to savour the sensation—only for a moment, though, for the blissful touch depends on your ability to keep forming shapes on the paper, so you open your eyes and do your best to conjure some semblance of a coherent design as Annatar peppers your skin with unrushed, tender kisses. His lips are even softer than you had imagined, and you tilt your head lightly to offer every inch of skin within his reach. Now that the door has been opened, there is no more use pretending like you do not crave his affections.

Before long, his fingers ghost along the neckline of your dress, then his hand ventures below, to the swell of your breast. You do not make the slightest move to stop him. In fact, you pray to the Valar for the ability to keep your hand drawing at least somewhat relevant lines on the page. For you keep reminding yourself that if you stopped, so would he, and you cannot fathom the loss of his delicate grasp of your soft flesh. He easily finds a stiff nipple, peaking through the fabric of your dress, and tugs it between his thumb and forefinger. You shudder, holding back a whimper—but to your embarrassment, the beginning of one does escape you when his hands and lips suddenly leave you.

“Do you need a respite?” he says with a tinge of admonishment. You’ve abandoned your efforts on the paper without even realizing. You shake your head, not trusting your voice, wishing for nothing more than to feel his touch again, and resume scribbling lines on paper.

“Very well,” he says, and his hands return to you.

It’s increasingly challenging to keep drawing through each graze of lips, each brush of your ears, each tease of your nipples through your dress. It’s already so much, so fast, and yet it only makes you long for so much more. You’ve given up biting back the soft moans in your throat, lacking the power of concentration to spare for that purpose as well. And you certainly cannot help how your thighs press together in a futile attempt to ease the ache growing between your legs.

The sketch of one Ring is already finished, but you don’t even stop to consider whether it’s satisfactory before you begin another. His method shall be most efficient in increasing the quantity of your work, if not the quality. Would he do this with any other smith, you wonder, simply as a means of encouragement? Is this what he has been doing to Lord Celebrimbor on the late nights when the other smiths have gone to sleep, and they alone remain to carry on working in the forge? The thought stings, but the only question on which you can truly focus at the moment is how much further will he go with you, right here and now? As if in answer, his hand begins a most tantalizing descent, over your stomach, down to your navel, and you desperately repeat to yourself to do not stop drawing, no matter what, as you part your legs to receive him without shame.

When he cups you intimately through the fabric of your dress, you truly do not know by what force you are able to keep the pencil on the page, let alone keep wielding it. But thanks to the muscle memory acquired over many years of training, you do, even as you whimper and rock your hips into Annatar’s hand, even as he massages the throbbing bud which had longed for his touch on the shamefully many nights you had stroked it yourself while thinking of him. You wonder if he can feel how wet you have grown for him even through the fabric of your dress, wantonly hope that he does—

He stops. Even though you haven’t—you are so sure of it, you’ve been so careful. You only cease drawing when he lifts himself from you and you turn to him with a questioning, pleading look.

“Stand,” he instructs simply.

You nearly protest. But you remember yourself, that you are meant to be putting your trust in him, and do as you are told. You are hyperaware of the wetness between your legs as you stand, leaning against the table for support. The haze of desire has left you pleasantly weak.

Annatar steps towards you, facing you fully for the first time since he has begun to touch you intimately, and it is both relieving and electrifying to see that desire darkens his gaze as well as he takes in your breathless state. Taking gentle hold of your chin, he lifts it so your eyes meet his, and not a moment later his lips are upon yours, soft and tender. It’s barely more than a short peck, just enough for you to melt into the kiss only for him to pull away before you can fully savour it. This teasing of his is so maddening, like a game to which the only rule you know is that you either submit to his rules, or forfeit altogether, and you can only hope he will not leave you wanting in the end.

Stepping back, be pushes his robes to the side, and proceeds to unfasten his trousers with relaxed, steady movements under your longing gaze.

He pauses whilst he is still decent, and patiently asks, “Will you welcome my flesh?”

Welcome it? You could think of little else for weeks.

“Yes, my lord,” you murmur.

Only then does he bear himself to your gaze. He is a masterpiece, hard and swollen and glistening at the tip. The state of his cock denotes much more impatience than he demonstrates as he gracefully seats himself in your chair. Your cunt clenches around a gnawing emptiness at the mere sight.

“Return to your seat, then,” he invites with a cheeky little smile.

You find it strange that he has not pulled the chair away from the table, sitting in it as though he means to work there himself, rather than receive you in his lap. But you obey either way, a daze of elation coming over you. It’s such a foreign, illicit feeling, pulling up the skirts of your dress with trembling fingers as you step between the chair and table to face Annatar, ready to straddle him.

Before you can lift one knee onto the chair, he stops it with a gentle but decisive hand.

“I do not believe you have finished the designs,” he says. “Have you?”

Frowning, you give a slow shake of your head. His tone nearly makes you feel like a chastised student. Disoriented, you are nothing but pliant as his hands guide you into turning around so that you are now facing the table. Surely, he cannot mean for you to keep drawing once he is inside you? You could barely manage to control your pencil strokes whilst you sat relatively unmoving with his hands upon you, you could not even manage to find the paper if you begin to ride him.

You are about to ride him. Lord Annatar. The thought banishes any such concerns from your mind, leaving nothing but blinding lust in its wake. He adjusts you so that your legs are bracketing his thighs, pulls your garments out of the way to expose your soaked folds, and guides you down so that the tip of his cock is only just breaching your entrance.

That initial stretch alone pulls a small whimper from you, and you plant your hands on the arms of the chair for support, trying not to make any rash downward movement that might hurt you both. But his hands are strong and so safe on your hips, and you surrender to their guidance as he eases your joining. He slowly teases the tip of his cock in and out of your cunt, each time reaching a little deeper than before, until you cannot take it any longer and and sink onto his length completely.

The stretch pulls a mewl from your throat as you finally settle in his lap. You strive to catch your breath, looking down as if to reassure yourself that this is, indeed, real. Your dress covers the place where he has disappeared inside you, but you are so heavenly filled by the length and girth of him, you fear the sight alone might cost you your sanity. You whine, your eyes falling shut as Annatar pulls you to his chest, one hand pressing down on your belly whilst the other gently wraps around your neck, and he whispers in your ear, “How does this feel?”

Your voice is no more than a trembling whisper, “Wonderful.”

You cannot bear to wait a moment more. You try to circle your hips in his lap, moaning as his cock begins to prod at all the most delightful spots within you—

He plants his hands on your hips, trapping them in a firm hold.

“Be still,” he demands. It’s no easy feat, but you settle down, awaiting his direction. “Good,” he purrs in your ear. “Good. Now...” he pauses, letting you quiver with anticipation, “you shall remain still until you have finished the designs.”

Your eyes shoot open, wide and confused as you twist your head to look at him. There is no trace of jest in his eyes. Even the pleasure he feels in the warm embrace of your cunt is a faint glimmer beneath the surface of his determination, subdued with utter discipline. You realize he truly means his words, and you despair.

“But...” You cannot even make a coherent plea. So dreadful is the thought of enduring the pleasure of having him inside you without pursuing it, you are reduced to little more than a pitiful whine, “My lord—”

“Shh,” he coos, tenderly kissing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, aiming to soothe you as if he is not the very source of your torment. “I know,” he murmurs. “I feel it too. This all-consuming ache to reach fulfillment, this longing for release... the wonders of your mind crave the very same. Open the door to set them free, as you have opened yourself to allow me in. You managed well enough before .”

“Yes, but you were not...” You grimace, clenching around him without meaning to in your anguish. “It’s so deep—”

“And you are so warm. So tight,” he breathes out, hoarse with want. “Yet I shall wait, patiently, for as long as I must. For your sake.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, which only worsens the ache between your legs. But you know by now—either play by his rules, or stop the game altogether.

You sigh, defeated, and nod. “All right.”

Annatar presses a light kiss to your temple, a gesture so sweet and chaste, it makes your head spin as much as his praise. “Good girl,” he rasps out. “Go on, then.”

He offers some support as you will your limbs into cooperating and begin to lean forward, towards the table. The movement jostles his cock within you ever so slightly, and you groan as you withhold from moving your hips in search of any further friction. The position is somewhat awkward, with you leaning over the page from a slightly too high angle, but you plant your elbows on the table and get on with it, determined to see this through.

If someone had told you this was how you would finish the designs—seated in Lord Annatar’s lap, his cock buried snugly inside you, so perfectly stretching you out that it drives you to the brink of insanity—you would have called them a most impolite adjective, and slapped them for good measure. But even less probable, even more scandalous, is that it’s almost easier this way. After a few moments of adjustment, you no longer scratch out attempts before they’ve even begun to take shape, or overthink each stroke of the pencil to the point where you forget what your overall intention had been in the first place. The wonderfully torturous stretch of Annatar’s cock within you takes over that part of your mind, and what is left of it is high on the thrill of it all, the anticipation, the graze of Annatar’s fingers as they trace the occasional languid line along your spine, so tender and encouraging.

The practical knowledge is there, deeply rooted in your mind from years of practice, and the creativity is a gift that’s never truly left you. But it is only now that you finally understand how to let them intertwine without trying to control it, to give in to the flow of inspiration the same way you are giving in to him.

And he keeps his word, sitting silently until the last stroke of your pencil, his hips never once giving the lightest stir. Only when you sit back to show him the finished sketches does he lean forward slightly, taking the paper from your hand as you take deep breaths to cope with the new stimulation.

You plant your hands on his knees for support, nerves filling you now that the creative haze is over. You are left only with great unfulfilled lust, and the creeping doubt that, perhaps, your work is no more adequate than it was before. You’d found a way to push through so far, but you are not sure you could manage such a feat a second time if he asked it of you.

But you would try. You would try anything, if it allowed only the sliver of hope that your Lord Annatar would finally take you, unrestrained and to sweet completion, at the end of it.

To your great relief, when you turn your head, you find him studying the paper with a most appreciative smile.

“See what you can accomplish when you give yourself permission to do so?” he says, caressing your thigh as if in reward. “These are splendid.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you murmur. Before, you would not have dreamed to ask for more than such words of praise. Now, you bite your lip and entreat, “May I... May I, please...?”

“Seek your pleasure?” His voice is knowing, teasing, as if he is not furiously hard within you this very moment. Even after all this, a bout of shyness makes you avert your gaze briefly as you nod. “No,” he says seriously, and your eyes snap to him in alarm. “Not in this manner,” he goes on. “I wish to look upon your face.”

You have no doubt he meant to have your heart lurch in your chest. There is a wicked side to this messenger of the Valar, a shadow hidden within the light with which he surrounds himself. It only arouses you further.

Annatar helps you stand, and the emptiness left behind as he slips from within you would render you an inconsolable mess, if it weren’t for the promise of soon-to-be-found relief. You can’t help but eye his cock, drenched in your arousal and bobbing enticingly as he rises to his feet as well. He sets the precious sketches on the table with care, then turns to you with, at last, unveiled hunger, and reaching to the back of your thighs, hoists you in his arms in one swift move.

You wrap your legs around his waist, cling to his shoulders, and gasp as he carries you to the nearest wall, pressing your back against it. He holds you up effortlessly, even as one hand slips between you to touch your clit directly for the first time. The bundle of nerves has been helplessly throbbing for so long, it only takes a few firm strokes of Annatar’s fingers to have you fall apart with a brisk whimper, burying your face in his neck.

“How sensitive,” he muses, quite content as you pant through the sudden burst of pleasure. “You have craved my touch for a long time, have you not? I admit it has been quite distracting.”

There is the slightest hint of accusation in his voice, and you know he doesn’t just mean since he first touched you today. You must have failed, in all those weeks you worked together, to withhold the lustful thoughts he invoked in your mind from showing in your eyes. And so you had distracted a messenger of the Valar from his work on the crucial task to save all of Middle-Earth.

“Forgive me, my lord,” you whisper into his hair.

“Whatever for?” he asks as though you’ve said the silliest thing. Cupping your face, he tilts your head up so your gaze meets his. “Have you forgotten my name?” he speaks softly. “I am here to give.”

And give, he does. He slides inside you to the hilt, gladly welcomed back by your still-aching cunt, and this time, finally, finally, he withdraws and sinks back in once, then again, thrust after thrust until he builds to a quick rhythm that has you drowning in the pleasure after which you had thirsted for so terribly long. A string of ‘pleases’ leaves your throat, unbidden, even though you can hardly ask for more than the stretch of him inside of you, the relentless press and drag against places so sweet and deep within, the ceiling is filled with all the stars in the night sky as you throw your head back against the wall with abandon. Annatar leans in to kiss your neck, his tongue setting your skin even more ablaze. Your sole remaining ability is to moan and cling to him, receiving the pleasure you are being given.

Sauron is deeply satisfied as he takes his own. He has been aching as well, though the Maia is far more skilled at mastering the urges of his flesh. You had been quick to obey, eager to follow his commands, even without his influence nudging at your mind to suit his purpose, which in itself was as pleasurable as having your tight cunt wrapped around him as you worked. And now you are so pliant in his embrace, moaning in sweet submission as you reap the reward he most graciously offers—the very picture of the peaceful surrender he seeks to accomplish through the Rings. If only every being in Middle-Earth would accept the blessing of his authority as easily as you have, they would spare themselves so much wasteful bloodshed.

Perhaps he will keep you safe from it. Perhaps he will keep you to himself.

But you don’t know what is to come, nor would you care as your pleasure crests towards its peak, and you cry out with the force of your release, clenching around Annatar’s cock.

“Thank you,” you mindlessly gasp in between whimpers as he generously fucks you through it, “thank you, thank you, thank you—”

With one last, brutal thrust that pins your hips to the wall, Annatar groans, long and deep as he throbs and spills inside of you. It occurs to you that he has barely made a sound besides his laboured breathing throughout your coupling. Before he even slips out of you, spent, you wonder if you might have the privilege of hearing more in the future.

He is gracious enough, as your high subsides and you catch your breath, to carry you back to your chair. You doubt your legs would support you this very moment. He sets you down, fixes his robes, then stands before you as poised as ever. If it weren’t for the spark of mischief in his eyes, one would think you had done nothing but discuss Ring designs over a cup of tea.

“Thank you, my dear,” he says, retrieving the sketches from the table, “for your most valuable work.” He admires them for a moment, then gives you a knowing smile. “Do not hesitate to ask for my aid, should you need it again.”

With a polite nod, he leaves you sitting in your chair by the table, much as you were when he had found you. Only, at that time, his spend had not been pooling between your legs, and it was hard to imagine it ever would be.

You smile to yourself. What an unconventional emissary, and how lucky you are that the Valar have sent him to guide you in your endeavours. For indeed, you are sure you shall require his assistance again quite soon.

Sequel -> Further inspiration

[saeist]

SAEIST WE NEED AN AFTER ARGUMENT FLUFF FROM OUR LOVER SAE

you and sae rarely argued.

obviously there were a few misunderstandings here and there but given that you two were adults, misunderstandings would often be patched up by the end of the day as communication is something sae values a lot especially with how most of the time, you two are in a long distance relationship with his profession and all.

sae would rather have things said right on the dot than to beat around the bush

however, communicating with the soccer super star sometimes isn't enough. especially when his stubbornness kicks in. when times are in drastic measures and you two are not on the same boat even after talking it out rationally, sometimes all hell breaks loose.

all because sae has a bad habit of ignoring you when your little misunderstanding that turns into a full blown argument that blows out of proportion.

it's very on brand of him to do so if you say so yourself.

one could say it's a force of habit given this is the treatment he gives his own manager when things aren't going the way he envisions it. but some could also say that sae is just a blatant asshole for acting like this at his grown ass age

now you might be wondering, what could you two argue about that ended up with sae ignoring you? well it's because sae can't just bite back his own tongue

you were telling him that he should take it a little slow with his trainings because intense trainings usually bring home an irritated sae that would quite literally berate everything he sees including inanimate objects such as your shared pet cactus

and sae being sae, he most likely have said some not very nice things that may have escalated into whatever predicament you two are in right now instead of compromising and working things out like you two normally would

hours have passed and it's just been silence in your shared apartment. if you listened closely you could probably hear a pin drop with how eerie quiet it was

you've already grown past the issue. in retrospect it was kinda nonsensical now that you were off the intense emotional high. now that you think about it, the whole thing that went between you and sae just sounded stupid

amidst these past few hours, sae would occassionally come out of his office to get himself a glass of water to drink or some shit from the pantry. literally anything he can get his hands on in the kitchen where he needs to pass by the living room where you were currently in

you can feel his gaze boring holes onto the back of your head whenever he was at the kitchen for like 10 seconds. you know that he was itching to talk things out with you but you know better that his pride was on the line

talk about egotistical, right?

it was dinner time when sae breaks. he honestly looks and sounds like a stray cat who just got drenched in the rain and needed to take refuge in your care

"sorry" sae murmurs, looking up from his plate to give you the look of defeat evident in his eyes

sae was sure for a while that you would be the first one to break the ice in this little cold war you two currently have going on. boy, was he wrong.

you thought it'd be time for sae to have a taste of his own medicine for a change. how it would feel to be the receiving end of his silent treatment

noticing that you weren't saying anything and continued munching on your food, he initially thought you didn't hear him clearly. so he clears his throat in attempt to catch your attention.

"i said i'm sorry" he coughs, putting down his fork as he waits for you to lift your head up to look at him in the eye while he was talking to you

silence.

sae's eyes widened. usually you'd accept his apology right away. you can't resist him, and neither can he resist you so what's with the sudden switch?

he waits a little more in case you were just busy digesting your food properly but a beat of silence passes by and you were now getting up from the table to put your dishes on the sink.

"y/n" he calls out, running after you to the kitchen. you barely even spare him a glance, maneuvering your way around him to get to the kitchen sink so you could start washing your plate

sae debates with himself if he were to call your name again but quickly realizes that you aren't going to respond any time soon. he sighs, dropping his head. looks like he just lost in his own game

instead, he gets this idea to just follow you around like a lost puppy.

to be frank, you were lowkey enjoying tormenting sae like this. it was too good to be true that he would be the one to grovel and get on his knees to beg for your attention. the way he is literally attached to your hip as you carry on with your daily night routine which should've included doing the dishes together, cleaning up together and his favorite part of the night– doing skincare together

but alas, why isn't it the consequences of sae's actions.

you two were already in bed at this point but still, you have not uttered a word to sae, who was right next to you, eyes glued to your figure, watching you like a hawk.

sae couldn't take it anymore. he doesn't want to end the day like this where you two aren't talking. it was already a hassle for him that you two didn't talk at all for the rest of the day.

not that he's gonna admit it but he misses you. he misses the way you would talk til his ears fall off. he misses your daily reports to him about whatever you did throughout the day when he was out in training. he misses the laughter in the air as you come up with a (not so) funny joke,

sae just misses you. he's not used to your silence and it's killing him

swallowing his pride, sae slowly takes it upon himself to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest

"look, i shouldn't have yelled at you like that earlier. you were just looking out for me and i've been a little preoccupied with trainings that it's getting to me. i'm sorry for being an asshole recently" sae sincerely apologizes, a hand carefully reaching to caress your cheeks

with a smile, you finally look up at sae, "took you long enough" you tease, poking his nose

sae releases the air he was holding in, now that you were finally talking to him again

"never put me through that ever again. i'd rather walk through a thousand needles than you ignoring me" sae nags, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"now you know how i feel when you ignore me!" you retaliate, snuggling closer to him

sae suddenly kisses the side of your face. "i mean what i said though, i'm sorry for saying all those words. i know that you're just looking out for me. let me make it up to you, y/n"

you look up at him, shaking your head

"no, i totally understand that you have to go to trainings. it's fine, sae. just ease up on trainings so i don't have to worry too much for your well being. can't have my super star all worn up" you joke, nudging him in the slightest

sae smiles. what did he ever do to deserve you

"whatever. i'm still gonna make it up to you for always dealing with me"

"if it's you sae, i don't mind dealing with you at all"

[thesirencult]

Lunar Eclipse In Pisces, Tarot Reading

@thesirencult

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Pile 1

“When a young tree is injured it grows around that injury. As the tree continues to develop, the wound becomes relatively small in proportion to the size of the tree. Gnarly burls and misshapen limbs speak of injuries and obstacles encountered through time and overcome. The way a tree grows around its past contributes to its exquisite individuality, character, and beauty. I certainly don't advocate for traumatization to build character, but since trauma is almost a given at some point in our lives, the image of the tree can be a valuable mirror.”

― Peter A. Levine, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

Pile 1, things will get worse for you, before they can become better. Right now, you have been going through a period of upheaval. You feel as if though you have to watch every step you take. There might be people around you who are praying for your downfall. This to me shows that you are someone who takes charges and like to lead the way, otherwise, these people wouldn't have a reason to be intimidated by you.

This eclipse will shake things up. Expect a confrontation with someone, especially at work. You will find out who is by your side and who isn't. Be careful. Retreat and don't fight back. Tigers don't compete with kittens, for they know their power.

You are someone who has "grown around their traumas". This eclipse prompts you to escape your "in-between" position and show your teeth by setting even higher goals. Take charge, travel if you need to and never lose faith. Become more vigilant but not aggresive.

Kittens can not and will not stop a tiger!

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

This eclipse is doing all the work for you. If you take a break or travel for a while, expect a different setting when you return to your familiar environment. Justice came out. I don't know why, but I get the impression you are someone who tends to suffer quietly. You don't like to give attention to petty people and small things others may find annoying. Keep doing that, but work through it internally. The Justice card is ushering you into an era of getting paid back your good karma, while those who wronged you are getting served theirs.

Another thing I see, is that in this era you will realize that every action has consequences, be it good or bad. This will offer healing and make you think twice before you do everything. You are a calm, cool and collected individual who may struggle with setting boundaries and taking responsibility because you don't believe you are good enough. Expect things to fall into your lap and getting celebrated for past successes. Get over your "imposter syndrome". You deserve to be rightfully compensated,

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Focus on raising your risk tolerance and lowering your tolerance for bullsh*t! You have great potential for success, so act accordingly. Any ideas about new ventures you should turn into plans. Find wholeness within and don't wait for external validation, be it about your self worth or plans. Overall, stand on your own and be like a tree that withstands the jarsh conditions by bending with the wind. You are strong enough to let the storm pass.

Pile 2

“Through transformation, the nervous system regains its capacity for self-regulation. Our emotions begin to lift us up rather than bring us down. They propel us into the exhilarating ability to soar and fly, giving us a more complete view of our place in nature. Our perceptions broaden to encompass a receptivity and acceptance of what is, without judgment. We are able to learn from our life experiences. Without trying to forgive, we understand that there is no blame. We often obtain a surer sense of self while becoming more resilient and spontaneous. This new self-assuredness allows us to re-lax, enjoy, and live life more fully. We become more in tune with the passionate and ecstatic dimensions of life.”

― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

This eclipse will make you sharper, quicker to act and ready to be strategic about your plans. After many trials and errors you have come to the conclusion that you're the only one who can change your life. You are becoming more stoic and pragmatic.

You are getting the bird's eye view, sitting high up in your throne like the queen/king you are.

I'm getting the message that clarity is here, not because of others but because of a change in your mindset that comes down to this: "I'm setting myself free from expectations and expecting. I'm choosing my battles wisely. I see things from a higher perspective."

Wisdom, truth and logic are the tools you are going to use to manifest your dream life.

From now on you will be guarding your heart and letting it rest for a while. Now, it's time for the sensitive heart to give the reigns to the cold head, just for now...

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

This is perfect! I just saw a carousel on TikTok that talked about the "winter arc" and when it starts (October 1st). I'm getting that this eclipse is ushering you into your villain era/winter arc.

You are a very soft and caring person but you've had enough, haven't you? I'm not getting that in this era of your life you'll turn into a b*tch and go from one extreme to another. I'm getting that you'll simply use radical honesty with yourself, you'll cut out the fluff and use your empathy to empathize with the one who deserves it, YOURSELF.

I want you to know that after this much needed period you will see that only people with the beat intentions approach you. I'm not getting that you will be lonely, I'm getting that you will choose to keep your distance from toxicity. You may meet someone who is going after their goals too and you two become really great pals.

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Very interesting...

First of all, share your gifts with the world cause this will lead you to material abundance. It's been reaffirmed that you are a generous and empathetic person. The Universe wants you to know that it's clearing out from your life those that are leeching off of your energy and are sticking around just to have a taste from the fruits of your flavour.

Since you will become more logical in this period of your life, you will see that certain people are better to be left in the past.

You need to focus your energy on making money, finding like minded souls who reciprocate your positive energy and also, SERVING karma. Be okay with being the villain in someone else's story. They wronged you first and now they just want to use you. Don't feel bad that you want them to watch you win, because they wanted to watch you lose.

Now, let them watch from the sidelines, while you are running towards success. It's going to be sweeter though, cause you will be so focused on the path ahead of you that you will not care about the bench sitters.

Take care !

Pile 3

“Every trauma provides an opportunity for authentic transformation. Trauma amplifies and evokes the expansion and contraction of psyche, body, and soul. It is how we respond to a traumatic event that determines whether trauma will be a cruel and punishing Medusa turning us into stone, or whether it will be a spiritual teacher taking us along vast and uncharted pathways. In the Greek myth, blood from Medusa’s slain body was taken in two vials; one vial had the power to kill, while the other had the power to resurrect. If we let it, trauma has the power to rob our lives of vitality and destroy it. However, we can also use it for powerful self-renewal and transformation. Trauma, resolved, is a blessing from a greater power.”

― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

As far as I can tell, Pile 3 needs to read both this pile and number 2! You are a complex person with lots of layers and reading both piles will help you gain two very distinct perspective on this next cycle taht will transform you COMPLETELY. It's not just about the eclipse, it's about the node change and the overall energy of the next 18-20 months. One of the two piles may not resonate right now, but in a few months or even a year it will be helpful to read it again for guidance.

The eclipse will change your perspective when it comes to your "all or nothing" attitude. Now, this change might have started already but what I see is that you will have a moment in the next month where you will realize that you have the ability to stand still while the world around you is moving. Before, you saw this as your inability to change and evolve but spirit wants you to know that you have the super power and luxury of following your own path. Your timing is way different than taht of others and your ability to move mountains while being still will help you advance in life. You see yourself as a walking contradiction but in reality, energy may manifest in different ways but its substance is the same. Stop beating yourself up and let your energy flow in different ways/wavelengths.

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

You always get so close to the finish line but refuse to let go of the burdens so you never finish the race. The Universe is asking you to let go of expectations, negative beliefs and fear. Ask and you shall receive. Your options are confusing you, that's why they will fall away one by one. This new era is the era of shedding your new skin and of stripping down to the basics. You can not jump into cold water with clothes on, they won't help you even though they protect you at the shore, in the water they will weigh you down and you'll drown. Different things work at different phases, now it's a new phase and whatever was helpful before it's not working now. Paradigm shift.

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Know that your life is headed towards a beautiful direction and trust your inner compass to lead you to this destination. Focus on improving your skillset and mindset and let yourself prepare for abundance. This next chapter is all about sharpening up before we climb the mountain. Thinl about it, if you had to climb up Everest wouldn't you want to be as prepared as possible. This last hump on the road is just a preview of the mountains you will climb.

[eaudera]

eaudera's detailed tutorial for skin rendering

okay loves i've put together a tutorial in text form detailing my step by step process of shading darker skin + the brushes and techniques I use and why I use them. you will be following along as we shade a piece together, you can find the lineart to the piece here. *turn off your true tone and night shift displays for the most objective viewing.

i wrote a lot on the preview pictures, if you find spelling errors (which you def will) or are unable to read my handwriting, you'll find the typed out version of the writing in the alt text feature.

disclaimer: i'm not an art professor nor am i academically/classically trained in art. a lot of the verbiage and techniques i'm using to teach you all here are from my current self taught and observed understanding of art, light, and anatomy

support me: kofi / ig / twt / commissions

firstly, here are my two staple brushes. you can find the second brush here, i modified it by making it larger.

the lineart brush is very good for easy sketching and simultaneously cleaning up that sketch to produce the final lineart you'll be using in your piece. the diffusion from the erased parts/the diffusion created by lowering the pressure of your pen creates a light graphite effect which i enjoy! give it a shot.

you'll notice quickly that there are lighter strokes throughout this lineart, these are simply acting as rendering guides for me in order to remember certain placements. i erase/draw over these lines a lot.

i initially learned to shade skin on a completely grey background with very slight orange undertones, and for a while this was very helpful in providing the most objective view of the base colors you're using (objective as in free of being effected by colors of different values). as you might know, using a white background for dark skin will seemingly darken the value and dim the vibrancy of your base colors, and using a black background will do the opposite. if you're using a darker skin tone, you want your canvas shade to be of a value that is proportional to your skin tone to avoid the same problems created by colors with too light or dark of a value. now if you're using a screened device to draw, you have the extra burden of screen reflections/wavering color output on different screens, so you're never really sure if the exact color you're using will be consistent across the board. priming your canvas with neutral colors will help with that. whereas priming with more vibrant colors will slightly change the undertone of your skintone (especially if you're using a low opacity brush), but it makes for a funner canvas and more creativity with your color palette imo. if you're a beginner i recommend you stay below the wavy line to avoid too light of a canvas shade.

for these same reasons i avoid keeping my lineart jet black. when you lay down the base colors under a black lineart it can look very unfavorable.

here are some skin tone variants that i tend to use the most, peep how i never wander off too far to the left of the spectrum where the reds are. i definitely favor red-oranges as compared to green-oranges for my skin tones, however, because i stay primarily on the left side of the color spectrum for my rendering, red can quickly become too much too fast. so i make sure to use a skin tone that can work very well with green-orange shadows. for this specific piece i will use the third shade (#2d1606).

heres where the gouache brush comes in handy. i use it very loosely to "prime" the canvas almost. if you've ever done oil painting you'll realize very few artists draw directly onto a completely white canvas, though i've already primed my canvas essentially by changing the background color, i loosely shade over it with the skin tone color using the gouache brush. i find this gives me a better grasp on the composition of the piece due to increased harmony between the canvas and the skin color. it also looks really cool to me and resembles a real canvas almost.

as stated before, priming your canvas with neutral colors (grey) can help give you a more consistent view of your base colors, when you get the hang of understanding the colors you most often use (i.e, how they interact with other colors), you can start using more vibrant and fun colors to color your canvas with! the gouache brush changes opacity depending on the pressure exerted by the pen, if you zoom in you'll notice patchy areas where the canvas color bleeds through the layer more prominently than it does in other areas. for some people this might throw off the consistency of the shadows, but you should be fine as long as you're using a consistently opaque brush (which we will be doing)

i know i recommended beginners use a grey canvas like i did, but since this tutorial is using my techniques i figured i'd also teach you guys how to use variantly opaque brushes to your advantage. we will be drawing on the pink canvas from here on out.

a reference is so helpful, i still rely on references to guide my shadows/lights. i'm past the point of relying on references for exact coordinates for rendering or lineart, but they are still incredibly helpful. in most references of darker skintones you come across, color dropping directly from the picture will give you very grey colors! we want to prioritize vibrancy in this case, so attempt to formulate your own colors or colordrop and increase the vibrancy :)! keep in mind i'm now using the lineart brush to shade. the diffuse/soft corners of this brush allows fewer pixels to be scattered wherever you lessen the pressure, this is perfect for color dropping medium colors to blend two colors together. you'll see how i blend colors later on.

as mentioned previously, red can become too much too fast- so i avoid monochrome rendering as much as possible by using shadows of different undertones. my most frequent combination is using a red-orange skin tone and then using a green-orange shadow.

the value spectrum will be your best friend in mixing values and undertones, i use it all the time to formulate the best less saturated darker shadow that is proportional (not too dark, not too grey) to my skintone value. if the shadow is too green simply increase the magenta, if you're looking for a "reflective" shadow, increase the blue.

when i begin shading, i always slide the curser to a truer orange color on the spectrum and increase the saturation (slide towards the right) while i decrease the brightness (slide down). heres how it looks when i'm jumping between shadows and highlights while trying to keep my colors proportional (but not identical) to whats happening in the reference ^. i most often times will rely on the value tool, however.

you will notice that a lot of darker skin tones have patches of orange vibrancy, these areas are most common on the nose and cheeks. this is only a detail to pay attention to if you're going for more of a realism rendering style :)

now onto how i prefer to bridge/blend colors together by utilizing the blend tool.

i do not like simply blurring colors in order to blend colors together, it can lead to overblending which can make your portrait look heavily gaussian blurred (think 2010 deviantart art... yea that). the brilliant thing about procreate is you can utilize brushes really efficiently, which include changing the brushes you use for blending. so in reality, artists who use the blending tool on its own can still have portraits that don't look it! there also exists plenty of brushes that have properties allowing it to blend into its surrounding colors are you draw. but in my case, the above photo is 99% of the times how i will bridge two colors together. doing this allows me to keep pretty consistent brushstrokes across the whole portrait, which i enjoy. it also gives me better control of the shapes i use in my rendering, an aspect that is pretty easy to lose when you're using the blending tool directly and solely.

in case the blending process is a bit hard too see, heres that same process recreated with different more visible colors:

now once you've placed your shadows where they generally tend to be (according to the reference photo), let's make those shapes a bit more specific and pick up on smaller details to make your rendering look more complete.

your base colors will never be as dark or as light as you need them to be when you begin rendering, making sure you have a decent contrast between your lightsource highlights and the shadows is key to capturing the essence of a light being cast on your character. it's much easier to keep building upon your shadows before rendering the highlights, i laid down the highlights only to create a guide/help me map my shadows better. do not darken the entirety of the areas affected by shadow, you'll find that shadows are rarely ever the same value, it's a gradual process affected by things like position, height, etc. so make sure the darkest of your shadow colors are preserved only in areas where the shadows are the or should be the darkest.

you'll notice i labeled some areas as "detail", adding very specific shadow placements is a detail. in the reference, the model has a pretty prominent brow bone, creating a shadow over where his eyelid creases just above his lash line, paying attention to feature details like this help enhance the rendering and its realism.

now that i've mapped my shadows i'm going to move onto to rendering my highlights and the region of the face where the lightsource is most prominent.

i described shadows as a gradual process earlier, this is because of the lightsource. light tends to spread when its further from the affected surface, creating a larger area affected by the light. of course, this varies depending on how intense and how close/far the light source is. in this case, the light is being casted above him further to the other side of his face, but again, remember that the face is not 2d and more prominent areas are affected more by light. it's due to this that there still exists a, albeit very minimal, shadow beneath his cheekbone. i exaggerate the shadow here for stylistic purposes, but it also helps in keeping me uphold that contrast between the highlight and shadow once again. so i refrain from blending the light into this area like i did in other areas.

midtones are the areas most unaffected by the light source, they're neither shadows nor highlights. and because light spreads, it is brighter in certain areas and darker in others. it is most easiest to blend the darker ends of the highights into the midtones of your portrait. you can emulate this by once again using your blend tool. blend the outer areas of the light and colordrop this color and use it as the darker light more proportional to the midtones. note that before i add even lighter shades to the areas where light is most concentrated, i blend what highlight placements i currently have there.

we're going to switch gears now and focus on the reflective shadow occurring on the darker half of his face.

this shadow is a reflection from the lighter background the model is up against, the light being casted above him is allowing for some bounce back from his surroundings, leading to very faint light visible in areas primarily affected by shadows. hence why i'm referring to these colors as "reflective shadows".

in this case, the reflective shadows are blue, or appear to our eyes as blue. on darker skin, "true" blues (blue-purple) are not often times present. what is present rather, is a very grey tone with cool undertones/a grey tone on the blue side of the spectrum, which creates a blue that is much more proportional to the value of the skintone than a true blue. in this case i used a deeper grey on the pink color spectrum, which is more purple. this was intentional, and was done in order to create some sort of color harmony between the contrasted deep oranges im using for the bordering shadows and the blue-grey i'm attempting to emulate.

while i utilize this blue-grey, out've a purely stylistic choice, i still introduce true blues to my rendering. in fact i love using blue/purple reflective shadows in my art, it creates a stunning and colorful render. in this case, i used the blue-grey as a stepping stool to introduce that trueer blue more naturally. you'll see this happening in the second picture above, where i used a slightly more vibrant and slightly more brighter blue, and used it on areas where this reflection was more prominent (and therefore brighter).

you'll notice how the shadows that border on these reflective colors are less saturated and darker than the shadows on his chin. introduce a darker and less saturated (more green) shadow to that area on his cheek and the darkest shadow of this photo, the sunken area near his nose bridge and inner eye corner. i emphasize this line in the lineart so you can follow this shadow more accurately:

this is also a detail in my opinion and can make your portrait more realistic if you include.

we're going to pivot to his neck area before continuing. you'll find the area of his neck with the most light is also the least vibrant, i laid down a grey base color to emphasize this detail in the portrait. afterwards i added key details. i wanted to stay at least somewhat true to the color dynamics occurring in the reference hence why i used the grey, but i'm not a very big fan of using blatant grey directly on the skin, so i made it more blue.

moving forward, the outer eye and the nose can be some of the most "detail focused" areas of the face when it comes to rendering. due to their more "bulbous" anatomy, light tends to curve around them in more complex ways than the flatter parameters of the face.

when it comes to the many creases that surround the eye, the skin folding over itself creates a very thin shadow from between the folds. the key to rendering this crease is to concentrate the blending to a very small scale, do not overblend the area because the hill created by the crease very easily captures light, creating an area where the shadow and highlight meet in very close proximity. slight blending is needed for this area, you can deepen the shadows in both horizontal corners of the eye for more accuracy. the midsection of the total eye area (eyeball and socket) tends to capture the most light, remember this is due to how bulbous rounder shapes tend to capture light from whichever direction its coming from.

this is of course the case for the nose as well. highlights are typically placed as a dot on the outermost part of the nose by artists, but highlights also spread on either side of the tip of the nose. the nose tends to collect a lot of oil, creating a sort of sheen on the upper parts of the nostril. when rendering a portrait where the position of the head is more cast to the side, the highlight of the nose changes from the bulb of the nose, to the upper nostril. in this case, the highlight spreads, causing a "half tone", or the remnants of the light on the bulb of the nose. this is the easiest place to blend highlights and shadows together. now for the shadow detailing on the nose, i'm actually drawing on top of the lineart on a separate layer. which i'll go into detail about in the next part. you want to focus the shadow on where your lineart is, the outermost part of the nose.

now were going to really detail your portrait by introducing a new layer, the detail layer! this isn't technically apart of the skin rendering, so i'm gonna keep it very brief. this is the layer you're going to render the lips, eyeballs, and eyebrows. more specifically, the purpose of this layer is to reduce the reliance on lineart. in terms of order, it goes above the lineart layer. we're going to soften and even erase the lineart in certain aspects. i use bolder/thicker lines when creating my lineart, but this can become a nuisance/hinderance when rendering.

starting out with the lips:

people w brown skin tend to have two toned lips, with the top lip resembling the same skin tone as the face and the bottom lip being redder/pinker and lighter than the upper lip. in my case, i prefer a more vibrant red for the bottom lip. once i lay down these base colors, i begin shading on the second layer.

i personally enjoy the look of a poutier lip shape, this includes emphasizing the middles of the lips as opposed to the ends. i've highlighted the shapes that this lip shape often entails. the small circles on the corner of the lip line are just pockets that occur when the mouth is closed and become emphasized by the fat around the mouth. the parameters of the lip lines do not often meet these round corners, theres often times a "double lip line", that exists around these areas. i love including that in the art, its very easy to emphasize by simply drawing a highlight from the corner of the lips along the curvature of the bottom lip towards the middle.

shadow mapping on the lips tend to go: highlight, shadow, highlight, shadow. the top lip going inward creates a highlight on the most outward part: the top of the lip. and the bottom lip curving outward thus creates a shadow on the bottom of the lip.

when it comes to the eyeball, i don't draw the white parts as solid white, nor do i make them too bright most of the time. they're most often times an orange grey, i also dont spread this color out if you can notice the uncolored white part of the eye. i do this intentionally to keep some of the shadows that are naturally present on the eye. very specifically right where the upper eyelid sits on the eyeball, it tends to create a small shadow that follows the curvature of the eye. this shadow is crucial, if you can see the first and second picture do not have this shadow, making the iris look more exposed and the eye appears to be held wider.

when it comes to the iris, i do very little. if i'm drawing a dark colored eye i will cover the entire iris brown, before darkening it with an almost black color. i leave the brown sides of the iris exposed to aid in bridging the values between the whiter parts of the eye and the very dark iris. this blended ring also appears on all eyes in real life. lastly, dark eyes tend to show light reflections much easier than lighter eyes. these reflections can be any color in art, in this case i kept it blue-green. i bend these reflections around where the pupil would most likely be depending on the drawing.

next, the eyebrow. i find it tedious to draw individual eyebrow strands when it comes to rendering, i actually prefer to blend the parameters of the eyebrows to create cohesiveness. sparse and fine eyebrow hairs are penetrated by light and shadows more than what you'd find on the scalp. it's harder to see light on someones scalp due to the bulk of hair crowding the scalp, whereas as its easier to see such light on the eyebrow. to introduce this concept to my art, i will initially draw the entire shape of the brow. then when rendering, i erase the parameters, leaving the darkest part of the brow. then i blend. the lower brow bone will be blended the least, whereas the area of the eyebrow connected to the T zone will be the most blended thanks to the shadow following the nose bridge. the far end of the brow by the hairline tends to be the lightest given the light source.

and lastly, i loosely draw a white border around the portrait for stylistic purposes. then i combine the layers (group together your layers, then duplicate and compress the duplicate group so that you still retain your individual layers) to edit. i typically add noise and play with the curve setting. and heres the finished image:

i hope you enjoyed!!

[1d1195]

Most III

Read Most here | ~ 6.1k words

From me: I might be changing this from 5 parts to 6 parts 🎉 I wanted to get further in this section, but felt like a good place to stop as well.

Warnings: I think this part is more fluffy than the last couple, but of course there's some angsty stuff hiding in here too.

Summary: There are about 200 question Harry wants answered. But he can barely ask one because she's home. She's got a lot of worries. But maybe most pressingly, is finding out if Harry's moved on.

*Six Weeks Earlier*

Addie and Carter were arguing over the inconsistencies of the movie they were watching with what was recorded in history. Addie was obviously winning. But she thought Carter just liked to see her riled up, like to have her argue just a little because she got so excited when she did. She was so passionate, and it made Carter’s face glaze over as she showed off her expertise.

As they quietly bickered on the sofa, she was at their little kitchen table.

She was looking at apartments for rent near her mom because Addie was probably holding out on asking Carter to move in solely because of her. There weren’t a ton of options—no real surprise on her end. She didn’t want to live in the same town as her school as she thought of post-graduation and how it would be flooded with students, and she thought that parties outside her apartment wouldn’t be conducive to writing the next best-selling romance novel. (If she could muster the strength to go through such a feat.)

Her quest brought her to another search engine, and it seemed as if it was the holy grail. Reasonable rent, new building, new appliances, semi-walkable—it seemed too good to be true.

It was. Truly.

There was one issue. But only one. Her browser’s location services were majorly off course—the last time she visited the website must have stored her old info. Back when she thought she was going to have to find a place of her own because her mom was going to move away, and she was going to need a way to stay close to Harry.

The location was the life and town she left behind were part of the new building’s address. Her email pinged with a message regarding her schedule for the semester. All online classes so she could focus on working and writing as much as possible.

For a second, she forgot. Forgot all about her heartache and the pain she probably caused. He was probably over it by then. She hadn’t forgotten, but she figured three years later, he must have. But there was this pull on her chest to call him. To tell him about the place. Hi baby! I found a place for us to live. Do you like it?

With a shake of her head, she pulled herself out of it and examined the floorplan.

Addie and Carter were still debating. “—The American Revolution is constantly blown out of proportion,” she told him knowingly.

It pained her to interrupt, but it was now or never. “Do you guys think I should still jump?” She asked quietly. They both turned to her. Tilted their heads in curiosity. Almost simultaneously. Carter turned away first, pausing their movie and Addie was already crossing the room to look over her shoulder.

“Oh,” she blinked. “Oh,” she looked at the address for the apartment building. “You... you want to go back?”

Carter followed over and smiled, sat next to her, squeezed her arm. “That’s awesome,” he smiled. “Of course we—”

“What about your classes?” Addie frowned. “We’re supposed to have a year.”

“Well, I can’t keep living here when you’re days away from asking Carter to move in,” she rolled her eyes. Carter chuckled.

“I’d pick you over him,” Addie grumbled.

“Hey!”

���Oh please,” she laughed shaking her head. “I would never make you make that choice... don’t you want to have weird shower sex without me around?”

Carter smirked, his cheeks turning red slightly as he looked at Addie knowingly. “Told you that you were too loud,” he winked, kissed her cheek, and headed to the kitchen to start something for dinner.

Addie glared at him for implying it was her fault. Then she stage-whispered. “He does this thing where he turns me so that the angle—”

“Addison.”

The girls giggled. Then she turned to her laptop again. “My schedule just came through. My classes are online... there’s no apartments by my mom or aunt...” she swallowed feeling the anxiety creep up from her stomach. It moved to her chest, then her throat making her voice quiet. “I just think... if I go now... and I see that he’s moved on then I can... I can too. A reset.”

Addie stared at someone who was sure to be one of the most beautifully talented, insanely intelligent, and incrediblysuccessful authors of the 21st century. She was so honored to have her in her life and be her best friend.

Even if she was an idiot. “You really think he would have moved on?” She wondered.

She shrugged, hovered her mouse over the link to apply for the apartment. “Wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause as Addie watched her. “I’m going to run to get some ingredients,” Carter said tugging Addie toward him for a swift kiss. He grabbed his keys off the counter, then kissed the top of her hair as well. It made her blush because quite frankly, other than flirting at the restaurant, she hadn’t had physical male affection in years and even Carter’s assuring hand squeezes made her a bit flushed at times.

There was nothing at the store; he didn’t need ingredients. She and Addie had gone shopping the day before for all the food they could ever want (at least for the week). But Carter was perfect, and he knew when they needed their girl time.

Addie took the notebook that resided at the end of their faux-dinner table. She kept it there for inspiration. She never knew when the mood would strike to write something and since her best writing was often done at the table—be it essays, some of her favorite ideas, or just a grocery list where her handwriting looked nice—she liked to have something to work from when she was stuck for a thought. Addie lifted the cover slowly. Her heart took off, terrified of someone else seeing her most personal thoughts. But instead, she stayed silent, and Addie pointed to the inside cover.

A heart with her name and Harry’s written in the center took up majority of the space.

“When’s this notebook from?”

A brief pause as she tried to date it from visual and handwriting. There were so many notebooks she owned it took a moment to figure out which was which. “I was... ten,” she swallowed.

Addie nodded and went to the coffee table. She removed a cup of tea off the cover, a few hundred rings lined the blue cover as if it were truly a coaster and not one of the notebooks that would be in a museum about her famed author-life hundreds of years from now. “When’s this one from?” She asked and held out the nearly identical inside cover—another heart bearing two names.

She didn’t need much time to identify this one—it truly was her favorite. The evidence and words that reflected the first time Harry told her he loved her were written within the pages. “Sixteen.”

Then she went to the bookshelf tucked in the corner of their main room. This notebook was wedged between copies of novels she refused to part with, even though they hadn’t been read in years and they weren’t necessarily her favorites, but they were a part of her love of writing and books throughout school and home: Of Mice and Men; Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Perks of Being a Wallflower; The Kite Runner. Books she didn’t think of as romances but books that made her feel. The purpose of the notebook that resided among those titles was to remember those feelings even if they were painful. “This one?” She wondered.

“Eight,” she whispered. She started that one when she read her first Babysitter’s Club novel. “But I wrote in it last week too,” after she finished Where the Crawdads Sing.

There on the inside cover was the same heart and same names as every other notebook.

“What about the one on your nightstand, for your dreams?” Addie asked.

She blinked, looked at her lap. Twenty-one... I bought it last week when I filled up the one before it that I used for dreams. I liked the green and gold pattern. It reminded me of his eyes. But Addie already knew all that. There was a picture of Harry on her fridge. The two of them on his final day of school, her arm around his waist and his draped around her shoulders. They were just kids there. Unknowing that a year later she would break both their hearts. Sometimes she looked at that picture and wondered what it would be like if she didn’t leave. Maybe she would still be in the very same spot. Because Harry would have grown tired of her and their hum-drum life.

“I know I didn’t move on, though, Addie.”

“He didn’t either,” Addie put her notebook back safely between The Princess Bride and My Antonia.

“Addie... you don’t know him.”

“You don’t write fifteen notebooks worth of love poems about a man that doesn’t love you even half as much. Even if he loved you an eighth the amount that you loved him, you would still have the greatest love story ever,” Addie was confident. Watched her friend wordlessly as she processed all that.

After several more seconds of silence, she finally answered her. “Twenty-seven,” she mumbled.

Addie stared at her in awe. She loved Carter, but truly, her best friend had the greatest love story she had ever heard. “Yeah, exactly.”

Her attention went back to the available apartments. She frowned as she looked at the screen. “They’re all fifth floor,” she closed her eyes. It seemed like an obstacle set out to change her mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t do it.”

Addie was back at the table and pushing her hands out of the way. “So you don’t go on the balcony. It’ll be fine. You’re not going to live there so you can lounge and sightsee the view, anyway. You’re going so you can go back to him,” she reminded her. Not quite ignoring her fears but making sure they didn’t hold her back. Addie clicked the link for the first apartment and began typing in her information as if it were her own; she wrote that she was ready to move in within a month. “What if he hasn’t moved on? What are you going to do if you’re wrong and I’m right?”

It seemed impossible. Harry was beautiful, loving, so kind. Perfect. Why wouldn’t he have moved on?

There was this little flutter in her chest. It felt the way birthday candles flickered when everyone was singing, and the cake was brought to sit before the guest of honor. She grabbed the book at the end of the table and jotted a note down about how hope was often described as a flicker of light in the dark. When all seemed lost. But no one ever mentioned how darkness often came right after a birthday wish. How hope was really nothing more than a flameless candle.

Because of what she just wrote, she blew out a deep breath. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered as she closed the notebook again hoping her wish would come true.

*Present*

It felt like he couldn’t get back to the station fast enough. He left his coffee behind in the truck; only two sips taken from it. But it turned out it couldn’t compare to the adrenaline he felt then. He left his wallet behind in his locker. That didn’t matter, either. He didn’t need it.

Nothing else mattered.

He barely said goodbye to anyone and left his coworker to tell the rest of the shift why he was rushing to get out of the station. Normally, he took off his uniform before leaving but the thought of not seeing her, or that she was already gone had him sprinting to his car in the lot. Instead of his change of clothes he remained in his standard-issued navy-blue pants and the flame-resistant boots. Fortunately, he chose the station’s T-shirt and not the more formal button down for the day. It was the smallest bit more comfortable and slightly less ridiculous to be out and about.

Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination. He thought to himself. But his partner saw her. So unless he was projecting said figment...

She really was home.

To further his torture, his car and flow of traffic refused to go faster than the speed limit. It was utterly infuriating for his cause. He wanted nothing more than to just be there beside her. Nonetheless, he returned to where he last saw her car; turned right onto the street at the light and drove until something looked like she could be there. His heart was racing faster than it had in years. Adrenaline and excitement rushing through his body, making him sweat with anxiety. But it felt good. Like it was the best thing. It felt like he had just finished running. It was pure joy.

She was home.

There was an apartment building that seemed entirely too tall for their town. But he pulled into the lot wondering if he could identify the car that he saw on the road. He pulled into the spot beside it once he saw it, his heart in his throat. Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried not to panic. Scaring her off was his worst fear and if he did so, he might lose his mind worse than he ever had.

There was a metallic sound that hit his ears as he opened the door. Like the way a garage door opened. By the end of the lot was a storage pod, door open, and the sight of her from behind. Harry thought he was going to cry but he swallowed the emotion down. Slowly, he walked over, still terrified to scare her.

She disappeared deeper into the pod, and he heard a crunching, scraping sound. As he approached, he realized she was trying to maneuver a loveseat sofa out of a truck all by herself. There was a small dolly on the ground outside the storage pod entrance and Harry wondered if she seriously intended on lifting all the heavy stuff on her own like this.

“Fuck,” she hissed. The end of the sofa she was holding simultaneously dropped to the floor of the truck. “Stupid fucking—”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked instinctively. He went right into the storage pod as if he was moving in alongside her and was joining her because he had stepped out to grab something from his car and was just returning. It wasn’t the grand reunion he had planned, but to be fair, he hadn’t really thought about this moment in a long time.

Even the way her voice sounded when she cursed was sweeter than he could have imagined. She stuck her finger between her lips due to whatever injury she had inflicted upon herself. She shook her head with irritation. “I swear I’m a magnet for those stupid staples they put on the fabric and frame,” she inspected her finger and then pinched it into her hand. Effortlessly, he grabbed her hand. Like he hadn’t missed a day of touching her. He cupped her hand in his, inspected her finger himself. “This is like the tenth time this has happened to me.”

“I think y’need a new couch then, kitten,” he chuckled. It wasn’t his intention to just fall back into the way it was before she left. But it was without thinking—instinctive and natural. It made her heart ache to hear her pet-name from his lips. She sighed and gently tugged her hand from Harry’s and shook her hand, ridding herself of the minor pain. Harry turned and looked at the variety of furniture within the storage pod. Given he had been to her house no less than one million times, he recognized the couch he had also grown up with. The coffee table that they put their feet on when they watched movies. The table in her kitchen where he had so many dinners with her, he couldn’t count it. “Y’mum coming back?” He murmured terrified to hear the answer but desperate to know why he was seeing her in the flesh after all the years between them.

She shook her head. “No... she’s living closer to my aunt now in this tiny one-bedroom place. So, she had a ton of extra furniture. This is all hers. I’m just picking what I like best.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest and jump into hers and live there, the way it was supposed to for all this time. “Y’moving back?” He tried to keep his voice even, so it didn’t sound so hopeful in case he was wrong. But he hoped. He hoped so badly.

“Yeah,” his heart swelled as she nodded shyly. But then her face contorted into a strange expression. Harry tried to place it but he hadn’t ever seen it on her face. Especially not in front of him. Was it...anxiety? About him? That seemed wrong. “Um... if that’s okay?” She asked looking at the ground briefly before gazing back at him.

Why she was asking didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. How she could possibly think he was going to decide such a fate was beyond him. But he was immediate in his answer; anything to get rid of the weird expression on her face that made him realize she was thinking about how she needed permission to live in the same town again. He nodded quickly. “’Course!” He almost shouted it. Cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean... s’not my decision really... but... It’ll be... nice t’have y’back,” he was so worried he was going to scare her off. He was glad he wasn’t holding her hand any longer because he was sure his hands were sweating something fierce.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m...” she took a deep breath. “I’m really glad I’m back,” she looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he loved more than anything. That gentle smile that made his heart race.

“Good,” he murmured because if he said anything more, he was worried he would cry or ruin whatever moment of bliss this was. She was real and in front of him.

“Can I help y’move this?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” she shook her head.

He frowned and tilted his head at her. “You are obviously getting off work and I have made you do way too many furniture moves over the years and I don’t think it would be—”

Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message to his group chat with their friends. “The rest will be here in a bit.”

“No, they’re not,” she looked alarmed. “Harry, you’re joking.”

“Y’know them, kitten. They’re going t’be so excited—”

“Harry, they hate me.”

They didn’t have a lot of time alone. Harry gave them a forty-five-minute window to themselves. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

Professing his undying love for her after their time apart and begging for her back... he was hoping he wouldn’t manage that in forty-five minutes.

But the idea that anyone could hate her, when he was so completely, wholly, unbelievably in love with her even after three years of not speaking and nothing but memories replaying in his head... “They don’t hate you.” She looked at him nervously, like when they joined a lake party and people pressured her to jump off the plateau leading to the water. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “They missed you. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” She shrugged, unbelieving. “I promise,” he assured her and began distracting the pair of them before he said something ridiculous (even though I love you was so close to the tip of his tongue, it was absurd).

Harry took the end of the sofa that had snagged her finger. “Can y’jus’ guide it for me, kitten?” He asked. She nodded and helped get it off and onto the dolly. It was something small, but an effortless reminder that they worked so well together. They barely spoke, practically reading the other’s mind after all this time as they maneuvered the couch out of the storage pod. Once on the dolly, they made their way for the building in silence. “Elevator?” Harry asked. She nodded, continuing the comfortable quietness. “What floor?” He asked.

“Fifth,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. It felt like a hug that she hadn’t got from him in a long time. The feeling that he remembered something about her. Which was ridiculous—she remembered everything about him. “Y’didn’t ask for a lower floor?” He pouted.

“There were none,” she frowned.

“M’surprised y’agreed.”

“It’s a new apartment building,” she shrugged and shook her head. She felt like an idiot for saying that to him. He probably knew it was a new building. Probably did the safety inspection himself. “Anyway, there weren’t many options around here...” It took every bit of Harry’s crumbling restraint to not invite her to move in with him right then.

He missed her. That went without saying. Worried he would still say something outlandish, likea marriage proposal, he broached a different topic. “How... how was school?”

“Really good. But I only have a semester left because I took all the summer courses,” she explained. “They’re virtual and I... I really missed it here... so I figured... I figured it was time.”

His heart leapt. Praying that he was one of the things she missed but desperately clung to his semblance of coolness. “Miss Smarty Pants,” he murmured with a smile. Then she laughed. Harry thought he was cured. All that time between them was nothing. She laughed, she smiled. She was his best friend. She seemed older, more mature, and somehow more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined. In fact, she was so pretty he felt his mouth move before he could think about it.

“Y’look beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say it as they got to the floor and she gestured down the hall for her apartment.

“That’s very sweet. I lost a lot of weight running around campus and work without a car,” she admitted. “Well... enough weight to...”

Harry sighed, shook his head. Wishing he could squeeze the insecurity out of her like a wet sponge. “Your weight has never had anything t’do with why y’were beautiful, kitten.”

The way her cheeks turned pink made him feel sick. Didn’t people compliment her while she was gone?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to suffer thinking about her lack of compliments for long. “You look great, Harry. But you always did. It was incredible seeing you on the firetruck,” she smiled fondly. “I’m... I’m really proud of you.”

The very pride she felt went directly to his heart, swelled in his chest, and bloomed warmth all through his body. Once more he tried to feign his excitement and overwhelming urge to wrap her in a hug he decided to distract himself. “Where do y’want it?” She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“I don’t know... maybe... against this wall for now, I can move it later.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, love,” he frowned as he settled it into position. He was already worried about how he would manage to invite himself back into her apartment to prevent any self-injury—especially from the staples in her furniture.

“I won’t,” she promised. “I was... going to have Lauren come by once I get settled a little bit. She could help.”

“S’nice. I see Lauren a lot at the coffee shop. M’sure she’ll be happy to see you,” he smiled sweetly.

With the sofa in place, it felt the slightest bit awkward. She worried she would do something insane, like kiss him and put her arms around him like she was his necklace. So instead, she thanked him. “Thank you,” she sighed. “For helping.”

“Of course, love. M’happy to see you. S’been...” he trailed off and shook his head. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” He asked curiously. He also asked so he wouldn’t continue the end of his sentence about having not seen her in ages.

“Ugh,” she groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “My storage unit is delayed naturally. There was a mix-up and it’s on it’s way cross country currently, no way to stop it so it’ll be...” she shook her head. “Ages. Until I see it. Fortunately, I have a good chunk in my car... but all my books, shelves, a ton of stuff I’ve collected since college. I don’t even have a glass to offer you a water,” she pouted.

He chuckled. “Oh... s’okay. M’fine, kitten.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Harry.”

He smiled and looked around again. “S’nice here. The balcony is pretty.”

“I guess... but I don’t plan on going on the balcony unless necessary... this fear of mine is ridiculous. Can’t even enjoy all 804 square feet of it.” She glanced out the door to the balcony. “I don’t think we ever had a building this tall around here. The view, from what I can see, is so pretty. A new way of seeing our pretty little town like this.”

Harry’s heart fluttered erratically over the way she said we and our. But he tried not to panic and instead made himself useful. “Do y’want t’go out there t’get a better look?”

She shook her head. “No way. I’ll probably hyperventilate or throw up or something equally embarrassing.”

He snorted, smiling easily. “I’ve seen you throw up before,” he reminded her.

“I’m well aware, Harry,” she groaned. “That was so gross. Literally the worst. I don’t know why you stayed.”

“I agree it was the worst, but because I thought y’were dying. Not because y’were gross or anything,” he shrugged. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he moved next to her at the window and unlocked the slider, pushed it out of the way. She watched him step over the little threshold and held his hand out to her.

It was the reason she couldn’t go on a roller coaster by herself or jump off the rope swing at the lake like all their friends did in school. She couldn’t help her mom hang up Christmas lights on the house and always paid Harry to do it for her. Her fear of heights felt irrational. Only a small percentage feared it. Harry was always quick to remind her that the small percentage still accumulated to hundreds of millions of people.

But even still, he held his hand out, waiting patiently and expectantly. Somehow, it was the easiest thing in the world to trust him. The feeling was electric, holding his hand. It was as if no time had passed at all. As if she had said ‘see you tomorrow’ instead of, ‘it’s too far for us.’

He squeezed her hand as she took cautious steps onto the balcony. A measly hand hold. Harry had touched and kissed parts of her that would never see a drop of sunlight but somehow the way he held her hand was more intimate. His palm pressed to hers, warm and familiar. His thumb stroked the back of her hand. It was perfect. It was slow and felt so safe. It was unreal how easily it was to revert to the time before. Harry was there, so she was going to be okay.

“Watch y’step,” he said softly. “S’a little uneven there,” he scuffed his shoe on the floor. “S’probably a support beam,” he explained. She nodded.

“I’ll have to put a little patio rug out here and a table and chairs so no one trips.”

“That sounds so cute. Can y’put a grill out here?”

“A grill?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about that pound cake bread y’like with the strawberries? Or jus’ marshmallows.”

She smiled eager to hear more about what he remembered and what came to mind so readily. “Uh... I have to read the lease agreement. I’m not sure. Probably a fire hazard. Wouldn’t want you rushing down here because of me,” she giggled.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. He glanced back over the railing and admired the view for a moment. “M’not sure about the whole town, but a good chunk of it.”

“Is that the fire station way back that way,” she pointed and then put her free hand on the railing. Harry stood beside her, following the direction of where she pointed, proud that she was able to stand there without fear it seemed. It made him happy she still felt safe with him. “Yeah, I think so... Mum’s house is...” he pointed the other way. “Y’see the blue house? Four streets back from that.”

“Cool,” she grinned. “Do you live with her still?”

He chuckled. “No... I live...” he squinted a bit and pointed back towards the fire station. “You see the shopping plaza?” He asked. She nodded. “Two streets behind it. The small one.”

“It’s cute... I think,” she giggled again which made Harry chuckle quietly. “I like the trees.”

“I want t’put a hammock in and—” he released her hand to speak and gesture what his plan was with two of the trees in his yard. But she gasped the second he released her hand. Nearly tripped as she stumbled back away from the railing. Harry caught her around the waist before she could fall on the uneven ground. “Hey, careful—”

“Don’t let go,” she reminded him turning toward him slightly but trying to maintain as much distance as she could; given he was holding her around the waist, and she refused to let go. It wouldn’t be fair to him to get too cozy in his arms the way she would have a few years prior.

“Oh,” he swallowed. His heart raced with nerves and anxiety. Part of him felt shame for not realizing what that would do to her. He should have known. He knew how nervous she got about heights. Especially from the level they were on. “M’sorry, kitten.”

She swallowed; her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “No, I’m sorry. I was just... I don’t—”

“No, s’okay,” he promised. “I won’t let go,” he assured her and took her hand again (even though he would have preferred to have her stay in his embrace). “I wasn’t thinking.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, but m’sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare you, love.”

Harry was way too nice. If he was smart, he would have pushed her off the side of the balcony for making him so sad the last few years. “It’s really okay, Harry. I know you didn’t—”

“But I should have—”

“Harry,” she squeezed his hand silencing his sentence. “You don’t need to apologize. I promise. I’m just nervous, you know.”

It was quiet and Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

They could have stayed on that balcony for the rest of their lives if it meant Harry was going to hold her hand and they would stay rooted in that spot. They were silent and watched their not-so-little town, filled with bustling cars and people. “It feels bigger,” she whispered.

“Well, y’did go t’a school with the population of sixteen people and a moose.” The laughter that came from her mouth was like pure magic. Harry swore he never heard anything sound so sweet.

Once they both stopped giggling, she wanted to know more about his hammock and what he planned to do with his yard and other things. She wanted to hear about his career and school and everything in between. As she was about to ask, Harry saw the cars pull into the lot.

Sarah and Eleanor in one vehicle, the boys in the other. “C’mon,” he murmured and pulled her back inside. Silently, they made their way down in the elevator to the parking lot once more. The five of them were grouped together near the back of the two cars, huddled together conferring.

“I bet it’s a creepy shrine. Like he’s going to do a séance to get in touch with her,” Louis suggested.

“She’s not dead, Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried that he’s finally gone off the deep end,” she frowned.

“Well, it can’t be worse than him asking Lauren where she is all the time,” Sarah grumbled bitterly. Mitch put a hand on her back and gently rubbed the bitter tension from her muscles soothingly.

“Who knows, but he asked for us to bring him pizza, so that’s a good sign, right?” Niall asked.

“They’re going to hate me,” she whispered under her breath as they approached quietly.

“Shh,” he squeezed her hand.

“Can I just say that I’m really worried we’re going to have to call the authorities about him?” Louis asked releasing a massive breath, like it was painful to say the words out loud.

“No, I was thinking the same thing,” Sarah nodded in agreement. “It’s right around the time she left and you know how he gets—”

“The first year was the worst,” Mitch reminded everyone.

“You guys really thought I would text you and tell y’where t’find m’body?” Harry asked. They all turned to the pair of them. Their words disappeared into the air. Silence spread between all of them.

“Holy shit,” Louis whispered.

“Pretty weird of him to ask you to bring pizza if that were the case,” she swallowed nervously. For her whole life these people were her best friends and she abandoned them as much as she abandoned Harry, their town, and everything that was good. She looked at the five pairs of eyes that were unblinking as they processed what was happening.

Niall dropped the pizza. “Oh my God,” he was first. He broke into a quick stride and wrapped his arms around her the way Harry dreamed of doing for the last forty-five minutes. He kissed the side of her head and Harry was just so overwhelmed with jealousy he tried to focus his attention on anything but the way he felt utter dread seeing Niall hold and kiss her the way he had ached to do so for the last three years. “How are you, princess?” He asked.

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Out of the way!” Eleanor hip-checked Niall before he could answer and wrapped her arms around her the same way that Niall had. Further fueling how jealous Harry was. “Make yourself useful, Niall. Order more pizza!”

“I don’t even have plates or enough seats to have you all in and—”

“Did you think we would get all fancy?” Sarah asked and gently pushed Eleanor aside to get her own hug. “We’ll sit on the floor and eat off the boxes.” Mitch was next and murmured something in her ear that Harry wanted to know desperately, solely because her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink so much.

Louis was last. Because as hurt as Harry was, Louis was a close second. All of them mourned for their friend in their own ways—even though she wasn’t truly gone. But naturally they put their own grief aside for Harry. But she was back now. Sure, Harry was ready to forgive her instantly, but Louis would be a harder sell it seemed. “Hi,” she whispered. Louis looked at her pensively, making her gulp.

“Hi,” his voice was curt and filled with distrust.

She looked at the ground. “Pretty crazy about Messi, hmm?” She looked back up at him.

“Don’t tempt me, darling,” he grumbled and finally pulled her into a hug. He kissed the side of her face and held her for a long time. Louis also whispered something in her ear, and she nodded against him.

“Well,” Eleanor clapped her hands together. “I was wondering why Harry said we needed to wear comfy clothes. Point us in the right direction, babe. Let’s get you moved back home.”

“You okay?” Sarah asked quietly, taking up the rear with Harry as they moved toward her storage pod. Peppering her with questions and falling back into old jokes and laughter within seconds.

Harry nodded, his heart finally started to feel whole. “Yeah," she turned back and met his gaze with a gentle smile. A smile that made him melt and feel like he could fly if she asked. "Finally.”

--

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[pinkaditty]

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Genshin Guys with an S/O on their Period: Waking up with a Mess and Cramps Edition (Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvillette, Itto)

A/N: Now that I can do more than curl up on the couch letting the heating pad do it's job kind of here we go.

Do we even know what period products people on Teyvat use? And have they even invented Midol? Like, what does a Teyvat medicine cabinet look like?

CW: mentions of blood because period, duh, hurt/comfort

Diluc x fem!reader, Kaeya x fem!reader, Neuvillette x fem!reader, Itto x fem!reader

Requests are OPEN

Diluc

Diluc is a heaven send at a time like this, no doubt it

The man is on it

Let's say he comes home from some Mondstadt batman-ing and goes to curl up in bed with you

Only to find you asleep, but curled up in pain and a growing red spot on the sheets

Thanks be to Adelinde for making sure he's not clueless about female issues. If he didn't know anything before dating you, she made sure he had an idea clue after

He wakes you up, gently, and helps you get to the bathroom so he can help clean you up, while Adelinde (who makes a habit of staying up when Diluc does his vigilante thing) makes sure the sheets are changed and gets you whatever pain relief Mondstadt has available

After you're clean and have whatever products you use on, you go back to bed and he curls up behind you. He uses his vision to warm his hands and uses them as a hot pad for you

Let's be real, you don't get better than a pyro vision for dealing with cramps

Kaeya

Kaeya is not quite as good as Diluc (mostly because of his vision, lol)

In this case he has the decency to not tease and poke fun. Even if he didn't know that doing so would result in his premature death, he actually feels sympathy

When he wakes up next to you, finding you curled up and nearly crying, he's momentarily very concerned. After all, his pretty little s/o is in pain and that just won't do

A quick once over and he spots the blood pooling between your legs and the concern subsides. This isn't the first time this has happened, especially if you're not possessed of a clock-work cycle, though your cramps usually aren't this bad

Because both of you are familiar with this routine, he''s got a lot of stuff on hand. Like Diluc, he makes sure you wake up and get cleaned up while he changes sheets and runs to pester Barbara about something to help the cramps. Again, he doesn't have the advantage of a pyro vision

If he has a mission that day, he does it as quick as possible, but if he just has paper work, he carries that shit home and does it while taking care of you

He wants you to focus on not hurting, so any chores you would do he takes over (it gives him a way to avoid paperwork, lol)

Neuvillette

I'm not saying Neuvie would freak, the first time this happened, but yeah, the man freaks the fuck out

I mean, dragon boy doesn't spend that much time in close proximity to human females. He conceivably is fully unaware of what exactly a period entails.

When you wake up cursing and hissing in pain, which wakes him up in the process, he's genuinely scared for you

After all, you look like you're in huge amounts of pain and that's blood on the sheets. It takes you several minutes to calm Neuvie down, to make sure than he's not blowing things too far out of proportion

Eventually you manage to enlist his help cleaning up. He's perfectly happy to give a little help making sure the bloodstains on your thighs are gone and changing the sheets

He still calls one of the Melusine nurses. A) you're in pain and that's unacceptable to him and b) he's still not 100% certain that you're OK

You roll your eyes, but it does hurt and I'm not sure what kind of over the counter period relief Teyvat has. Either way, you'll have something that might help

After the Melusine leaves, you pull him back to bed and cuddle while you explain female biology in depth. First time a 500 year old dragon has had to take sex-ed lol

Once you're done he feels a little embarrassed over his overreaction

Needless to say, your next period goes much smoother. Once he's aware of the issue, he does some research on his own, talks to some other girls about ways to make it easier (basically being a stand up, super loyal boyfriend.n outstanding boyfriend)

Eventually the entire ordeal is something the two of you will laugh over

Itto

I rarely write for Itto, but I think the idea of Itto seeing the period mess and cramps would be kinda funny. At least from the outside. I would not want to be the s/o in this situation. It's a mess

He thinks the world is ending. Blows it waaaay out of proportion, and unlike Neuvie, he doesn't really listen.

Once you convince him you're not dying, he thinks you're the absolute coolest for being able to bleed every month and be in that much pain and not die

You might have to stop him from trying to "join his most awesome girlfriend ". Like, if you're so cool for this, obviously the One and Oni must be able to as well? Right.

You immediately call Shinobu because, "No. Itto. You have a dick. If you try and bleed like this. you'll die."

You and Shinobu stop him from trying to have a period too, because he'd try...somehow, and send him on basic errands or something. Anything to distract him.

Honestly, I feel like dealing with Itto's...whatever he has going on...would be more exhausting than the period and cramps

In this situation, Shinobu is your girl. She is prepared, both with the ability to redirect Itto and whatever you don't have on hand in case of mess and cramps

[otterloreart]

MLP-Takara generations: a design experiment

Takara MLPs are considered generation 1 My Little Pony; the original ponies look like little horses and the takaras are obviously very different.

But the standard MLP toyline underwent a lot of changes throughout the years... so, if the takaras had been successful, what would their changes look like?

Generation 1 year 2+ takaras.

Year one MLP was only a few ponies with a single color of body + matching hair... just like the takaras. It was year 2 that they introduced unicorns. pegasus, and seaponies.

You all know I've already been concepting these so it's not surprising at all. As MLP g1 went on, they ended up doing more and more gimmicks throughout the 80s which would also be kind of fun to see the takaras do... (hint hint if you want me to draw those lmk which gimmicks are your favorites)

I also think they should bring in markings like the normal ponies but that could be part of the gimmicks. Maybe on their cheeks, or on their bellies like care bears?

In the later years og MLP also had a lot of variations on the normal pony body type, so maybe you could also see the takaras with that kind of variant, so that might be cute:

Moving on!

Generation 2

If you aren't big into early gen My Little Pony you might not know that generation 2 didn't do very well; it was a reboot of a beloved franchise, it was new, and different, and all that jazz:

Main differences between them and g1: first, you can see they have a very late G1-type body, which is why I pointed out the thinner pony in g1. Their face is less detailed and rounder, but they have a little more expression, very smiley.

Their ears have a more horse-y curled in shape, they have fur around their hooves (in g1 only the boy ponies had hoof floof), and they have a gem in their eye.

Also they had a lot more moving-leg gimmicks where you could push one part of their body and another would move (eg push tail -> bobs head)

So you may ask, how am I could to g2-ify the takaras? After all, they are already much rounder than the g1 ponies. Well, I'm not going to make them just *look like* the g2 ponies, although I'll borrow more elements.

Instead: I am going to take and exaggerate all of the differences that I listed above and see what we come up with.

So! Here is my idea for g2 takara pony. I feel like its the exact balance of very cute and something that would upset collectors familiar with the original takaras, just as g2 upset the g1 fans.

First off, she's thinner, the iconic takara nose is removed in favor of a sculpt with a smiling mouth, the legs are more horse shaped with fluff and human fingers to match the additional foot detail. a lot of people find the g2s a little "uncanny" so I feel like this works.

The sparkley eye gem and ear shape are just straight off the original g2s, just to have extra gimmick to it (also the og takaras basically had the g1 ears)

g2 came out in the late 90s so I like to imagine the pony eyes would be extra shoujo too

Finally, a ball jointed head for more flexibility. (yes the arm would be posed like that in the doll, because its a more dynamic pose, and we can also assume that the larger size allows the doll to have a joint with more flexibility)

g2 had pretty similar gimmicks to g1 but also had some light up ponies, so maybe the takaras could have some with that gimmick too

fun fact, g2 MLP was sold for a longer time in Europe and performed better there.

Generation 3

Generation 3 ponies are a pretty clear return to g1 MLP style, kinda scrapping most of the changes g2 made, other than proportionally thinning out the ponies a bit.

g3 ponies have very similar face sculpts with bigger eyes, nearly the same legs, and their heads just a bit bigger in proportion to their body

They do remind me a lot of the g1 Petite ponies, which were 1 inch sculptures that also had those proportionally bigger eyes and chunkier legs.

I have here included the g1 so you can see the slight changes better! I think the main difference would be the g3 takara would be a lot rounder, smoother, and cutesy-er. While the original has the hello-kitty simple cute look, the g3 version would definitely have like eyelashes and big eyes.

The only other thing to note about the body is some bigger ears, a generally rounder face, and round feet.

There weren't many gimmicks super /unique/ to g3 but one I wanted to highlight was the Breezies. G1 did have the flutter ponys, which were ponies with butterfly/dragonfly type wings, but the breezies are like their own little species AND they have antennae. While the flutter ponies were sort of graceful and thinner than the other ponies, the breezies are like little chibi-er ponies.

A little bit Littlest Pet Shop-core, since its the early 2000s too.

SPEAKING OF

Generation 4 Generation 3.5

Before there was gen4 there was a subset of Gen3 ponies with a different and unique style. They were basically an exaggerated version of the Breezies with even bigger feet and tinier snouts. They are also VERY littlest-pet-shop-core.

So, pretty straightforward changes

Just an even more chibi, kid-ish style pony. I think the g3.5 ponies were even meant to be kids. So this is just an even more child-friendly, littlest pet shop type horsey.

Generation 4

So, obviously generation 4 ushered in a whole new era of My Little Pony with its unique and bright artstyle, which did need to transfer over to the ponies

Personally, while I love g4 in a lot of ways im not a fan of the toys in the same way I am the other generations, their little noses have shrunk to specks, they're skinnier and more big-eyed than ever. Well, g3.5 was pretty big-eyed but at least those ones were like little kids.

This is such a drastic shift from g1/g3 and even g4, I would be unsure about the takaras.

So: eyes, bigger. Snout, so tiny and so smooth. Ears, bigger. Hooves are flatter and parts of the legs are just kinda featureless. a longer neck. They released a decent amount of ponies with plastic hair this gen, too.

I was struggling to come up with a doll for this one, but I finally realized I was doing it backwards. The thing that makes g4 stand out, I think, is the fact it was fundamentally designed opposite from g1. Lauren Faust, an animator, designed the ponies and the toys had to be designed around her art.

So the primary difference was considering what a tv show- a tv show concieved in the 2000s and airing in 2010s- and I did look into some kids properties from that time period as I was designing

I think these Strawberry shortcake dolls are really close to the concept I'd want for a early 2010s mirror of MLP g4. So basically these toys but more anthro.

I ended up making a 3D mockup so I'd be able to plan the different angles and keep them consistent.

The eyes are kind of far apart but I think thats true of the g4 pony toys as well. Again, because of the way the g4 show was stylized as animation, there was sort of cheating with the anatomy, especially on the face.

Generation 4.5

Gen 4.5 was a spinoff of gen4, just like gen3 had 3.5 where the ponies are more chibi. More big eyes with even bigger ears and a face like... a cats? instead of a horse. Hoof fluff again.

I think this nailed the style without being as much of an outright copy. The bendy arms with fingers seem so silly but also I think that matches the vibe/artstyle.

G4.5 don't look like horses to me really at all though, they're like cats with hooves. Out of all of them we've seen so far they're suffering the most from "predator eyes" where they've gone so far as to make their eyes just face forward.

Generation 5

Generation 5 premiered with a CGI movie, so the toys that would be released are fairly on model with their movie selves except for the fact their heads are smack dab in the middle of their neck which i find extremely unsettling and dislike

We've gone full "predator eyes" (no the predator eyes thing doesnt 100% biologically hold up but I find them freaky and I get to say it) AND full human eyebrows stenciled in like a makeup vlogger in the same color as the hair.

The ears are back to cup shaped (more horselike) but again the face is round with a little muzzle (more catlike). The hooves have really detailed feathering on the legs. Otherwise the body is mostly just structured like the g4 body (except a bit longer) just with more specific horse details.

These continued the trend of having a lot more articulated versions with moving legs as well. I think given that most dolls these days have articulated elbows and knees, it is reasonable to expect the takara g5 dolls would too.

Again, I made a 3D model so I could keep it consistent from various angles.

ta-daaaa heres my takara pony generations 1-5 lineup! Tell me which youuuuur favorite are. if you want.

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch13 Party Invitation

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@rotting-alone @namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

You wondered how many times you'd have to tell people that you were alright?

You had to insist to the three of them that you were indeed ok and just needed a shower and change of clothes. No you didn't need a ride home, but Giyuu insisted on driving you back until you just agreed and found yourself being driven home by them. Mitsuri practically trying to wash you herself with the amount of wet wipes she used on your face and neck all the way there. When you were FINALLY able to get them to go even with Mitsuri's repeated offers to stay.

You felt super better after taking a shower, slipping into extra fuzzy pajamas, and just falling into the soft bed. However what you weren't expecting was for your phone to start buzzing along the table and ringing non-stop. You groaned muffled by the pillow before reaching out making about four grabs before actually grabbing the phone and pulling your deadpanned face up, annoyed slightly as you answered it.

"Yes?"

"Y/n. Darling, are you alright?," Gyomei's concerned voice called through the phone.

"Mei?" You blinked.

"Mitsuri called me."..Ah. That explained it. "She told me you and Shinobu were attacked by a senile woman. Are you alright? You aren't harmed are you?"

You sighed. Flipping onto your stomach and reaching up to rub your temples. "I'm fine, Hun. I promise. They're just blowing it out of proportion."

"So you WERE attacked?!"

"No. Some karen just threw some root beer on me. Nothing else really happened so you don't have to worry."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should come over and spend the night."

"You're supposed to be spending the night with Obanai. *sigh* Look. I'm perfectly fine. If I wasn't you'd be the first person I'd call. We'll see each other tomorrow at work so we'll talk then. Ok?"

He didn't say anything but you slowly hung up the phone and laid back down. Today was certainly a ride but hopefully tomorrow would be a lot better. Whelp you were half right. Because as soon as you woke up, got ready, and skipped out the door you saw Gyomei already waiting for you on the sidewalk. Immediately his head turned hearing the sound of your footsteps. You couldn't even get a 'good morning' out of your mouth before he was practically dropping to his knees and grabbing your shoulders with a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" It was only three little words but they were serious with the tone of his voice.

It caught you off guard but you nodded after a few seconds. "Yes. I told you I'm fine. I'm not even hurt." He hummed but you gently grabbed his face. "Mei, if I was hurt you'd know. But I promise you that I'm ok. Alright?"

White eyes stared at you before a sigh left his mouth. Large hands grabbed the smaller ones on his cheeks. "I know. I'm just a bit paranoid considering what happened the last two times. This just makes the third time I was unable to protect you."

"Don't go blaming yourself. It's no one's fault but Jake's and Karen's. They're just jerks. If it makes you feel better, I got amazing friends who helped me so we're good."

"...Heh. I suppose you're right."

"Good. And don't you forget that." Then he froze as suddenly your lips met his in a quick kiss. "Mwah! Now let's get to work."

His face lit up a pink but he smiled with a deep chuckle. "I might never get used to that."

"Well maybe I'll have to kiss you more often so you do get used to it."

He hummed. "Really?~"

"But not right now. We have a job to do." 

You really didn't expect anything else out of the ordinary for the day. Of course Mitsuri would let your boyfriend know about what had happened. If not then Giyuu or Shinobu would've or you would've just told him yourself. What you didn't expect was to arrive to work and start checking in the usual kids when you spotted a familiar face. Except..he wasn't alone. 

So you were surprised when both Sanemi AND Kanae came walking in with concerned faces..Well Kanae looked concerned. Sanemi looked like he was straining to hold back unrelenting rage because of the tired looking two year old in his arms. It caught you off guard for a moment but you plastered on that customer smile as usual and greeted them. 

"Hi, Sanemi! Kanae! Good morning! Dropping off Koto again?"

Well imagine your further surprise when Sanemi stiffly sat his brother on the front desk veins popping up on his face and arms as he growled."Where the hell is that bitch who did this to you?"

The dangerous tone and aggressive body language took you majorly off guard blinking at him for a few seconds before you spoke. "SANEMI!" Quickly you scooped up Koto who was still sleepily rubbing his eyes but quickly accepted being picked up again by someone. Hopefully he was too tired to hear his big brother. "This is a DAYCARE! You can't just walk in here and talk like that! Secondly what on earth are you talking about?"

Surprisingly your answer only seemed to make him more upset as his eyelid twitched. But it was Kanae who spoke being the more calm of the two. "We heard about what happened yesterday from my sister," she explained. Ah. Shinobu. "We wanted to be sure you were alright."

"You guys too? *sigh* I'm fine. Really. It was just some soda that got on me. I wasn't hurt or anything. Everyone really needs to chill out."

Still pink eyes looked you up and down. "Oh..That doesn't sound as bad as we thought. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Of COURSE I am. If I wasn't I wouldn't be working today. I wouldn't want to put the kids or myself at risk if I couldn't care for them properly." 

"Hmm. Fair enough point."

"It's not just a point. It's the truth." You pointed at Sanemi. "Now this is the second time I told you off for cussing in the daycare. You make sure you don't do that again, Mister!"

"I'll be sure to talk to him." Kanae gently grabbed her boyfriend's stiff form and began tugging him out of the way for another dad to drop off his baby. 

Well at least that's been taken cared of. You weren't sure exactly how much more fuss over you could handle. ... Although the sudden protective behavior from everyone other than your boyfriend WAS strange. Hmm. You didn't have time to dwell further on that thought when a baby was presented for you to take into your care along with Koto falling asleep on your shoulder. So you quickly forgot about everything being quickly swept up into the duties of diaper changes and walking on eggshells during nap time. 

So really you didn't think twice when you were finally got off work and saw Sanemi and Kanae again. The white haired man seemed a lot calmer now so you guessed Kanae must've talked him down from whatever future murder he wanted to commit. Instead he just calmly stood there arms crossed as you carried out the boy.

"NEMI!!," Koto cheered excitedly throwing out his arms and leaning towards his big brother. "We had chocwette chip cookies for snack time today!"

"Oh did ya?" Even he couldn't keep frowning at his little brother's innocent bright face and reached out to pick him up into his arms, setting him on a hip as he nodded.

"Uh huh! N' I played hide n seek n' I drew Mama a bbiiiiigggg picture n' we watched a movie n'-"

"Whoa. Slow down there, Squirt. Save some story tellin' for Ma too." He still smiled fondly at the toddler and transitioned that smile to you. "Hey. You hurt anywhere?"

Here we go again. You decided to suppress the sigh wanting to come out and just calmly nodded. "I'm ok." You blinked as a piece of paper was slid over to you. 

"Take it."

What was this? Curious, you picked it up and unfolded half of it seeing a series of ten numbers. A..phone number? "Is this-..Are you giving me your number?" You looked back to him.

He nodded. "You can reach me at anytime."

"But for what?" Your brows rose.

"If anyone gives you trouble just call me." His smile turned sadistic almost."I'll fuckin' kill them for ya."

The statement took you back certainly blinking in shock that you couldn't scold him again for cussing around the daycare again but Kanae sure gave him a scowl before lightly kicking him in the leg. Before turning back to you with a smile.

"Everyone else's numbers are written there too." She pointed to the paper. Immediately you unfurled it to most everyone of Gyomei's partners names listed and a number underneath them. "If you can't reach one of us try one of the other numbers. As Mei's girlfriend and partners we ought to try and help support each other, so if you ever need anything or just wanna talk just call us."

"Oh...Uh. Thank you."

You had no idea how to feel about this. You already had Shinobu's and Giyuu's numbers because you three were doing a project together but you didn't think you would need everyone else's numbers. It was a strange feeling and you wouldn't be able to talk to Mei about it until AFTER your hour long walking session around the park again with Giyuu and Shinobu. But there was something different about them today.

Giyuu's usually somber and stoic expression was replaced by a small smile and his usual eyes were lit up lightly. Shinobu's expression usually came off as a monotone neutral smile but today her smile was rather large as she stood there all happy. Did something happen to make the usual stoic couple so happy? 

"Gyomei. Y/n." Giyuu greeted which also caught you off guard. He usually never spoke first unless it was important. "Are you ready to get today's part of the project done today?"

"Will you be just walking around the park again?," Gyomei asked him. 

"Yes. That's the plan. We're going to be very busy tonight."

"Then I'll wait for Y/n here. You all go ahead."

You really couldn't put your finger on it but something was definitely going on here...But ultimately you put those thoughts aside. Sanemi being aggressive wasn't something uncommon for him from the times you hung out with them and these two being in a good mood wasn't really a crime..So you dropped any strange thoughts. The entire walk was silently and pleasant other than Shinobu announcing the time stamps.

You were just glad to finally get some alone time with your boyfriend after Everything quickly dragging him towards your home. Something bad been on your mind lately and you wanted to talk to him about it alone without anyone else around. The quietness of the less crowded streets were certainly a blessing as you breathed in and sighed out. 

Immediately white eyes turned to you. "Is everything alright, Dear?" His head tilted at you in question. "You sound tired."

You have a dry chuckle. "You noticed?"

In response the larger hand holding yours squeezed gently. "If there's anything bothering you, you can always talk to me about it. You know that?"

"Yeah. I know.. I'm just sorta nervous about what you'd have to say about what I want to say."

"Y/n." He stopped forcing you to stop too by your connecting hands. The expression on his face turning to a serious expression fully as he silently gave you a few seconds of silence. "Has something happened again?"

"Huh? Oh! No. Nothing  like that." His eyes softened lightly but otherwise his expression didn't change. Instead his head turned to the sounds of your feet shuffling nervously. "I'm-...Well I thought maybe you'd like to- ..Well what I mean to ask is.." you swallowed thickly in nerves. "Mei. W-Would you like to meet my family?"

Surprise completely lit up his face as he blinked. A gentle smile crossed his face as a sigh escaped his lips. "Is that what this is about?" A laugh escaped his throat as your face turned a pink. "You don't have to be scared to ask me that."

You pointed. "Well you've never seen them and I thought-.."

"Y/n, I would love to meet them."

"Her," you corrected. His head tilted again. "It's just my aunt. I'm not really close to anyone else."

"I see. Then I would love to meet her. When did you have in mind?"

"This Saturday?"

"Done. I'm sure I'll like her."

You laughed nervously. "It's not you I'm working about."

*********""""""""""""""

You were not prepared for the meeting with your aunt that weekend. It's not that you were worried about her liking Gyomei. It's just that she might like him a little too much- 

"Remember she's pretty.. eccentric," your voice cautiously warned the taller man next to you. Each step against the sidewalk in the chilly October air twisted your guts ever nervously. "It's not that she's weird-...Ok. She's weird but n-not in a bad way. She might do something really embarrassing so if she makes you uncomfortable don't be afraid to say so."

Gyomei was nothing but calm keeping an arm slung around your shoulders. These last few days leading up to the weekend had been nerve wracking. Thank gods Giyuu agreed to do the project by himself today. However when you mentioned that you were bringing a boyfriend over to your aunt over the phone-

"She is aware of the fact that I have other relationships with other people as well yes?"

"Yeah. She knows. She's used to it. She's a matchmaker after all s-s-so she's seen all kinds of relationships but...Ugh." You facepalmed as you sighed. "She's going to be so embarrassing about it I know it."

"Do not threat. If she's anything like Mitsuri or Suma then I wouldn't be too worried. In fact I'm rather excited about meeting this famous matchmaker I've been hearing so much about. If she's as good as you say she is then it might be a good chance to meet a local celebrity."

"Just don't agg her on."

Autumn leaves crunched under both your feet as you both walked along the suburban neighborhood. A few cars went down the road and other people in sweaters and turtlenecks walked down the sidewalks. You lead him closer and closer and closer to where your Aunt's house resided and you were extra nervous when you turned the corner and saw the familiar two story house right there. The blood drained from your face as you slowly stopped and Gyomei stopped with you.

"Oh. We must be here!," he quickly deducted with a bright smile. "Shall we go see if she's home?"

"Is it too late to back out?"

"Yes." He easily was able to pull you along with him turning to walk down the driveway up to the home. "Besides this was your idea."

"Don't remind me."

Gyomei chuckled only further embarrassing you as he walked you up all the way to the front door. Your face fell in anxious wait as he reached out and delivered some rather loud knocks on the door. There was silence for a little while longer as you all waited before a quickly approaching pair of footsteps came rushing up to the door. In only a few seconds the door was flung open and a middle aged woman with your same complexion and features was smiling like she just won a million dollars was standing before you. 

"There's my niece!"

"Hi, Aunty Dakita- GAH?!"

You were cut off as she pulled you in a too tight hug squeezing you a little more with a hum before she placed you back down. "Look at you! See? I told you you'd eventually meet someone thanks to me."

"You? You haven't even met him yet."

"Yes. But if I hadn't sent you on that date then you never would've met that nice man through the bad experience." You regretted explaining the entire situation of your relationship over the phone. ESPECIALLY when she snapped to Gyomei. "And THIS must be the man that I heard so much about!"

"It is an honor to meet the woman who my girlfriend speaks so fondly off." He bowed respectfully closing his eyes. "She has told me so much about you."

Immediately you ain't lit up and you felt that knot in your stomach grow ever bigger. Gyomei slowly stood back up but blinked when she suddenly grabbed his arm lifting it up and examining him up and down with her eyes.

"Strong muscles, broad shoulders, and by the looks of it tall, strong, and with a rather dashing complexion. Not to mention I can tell you're a well mannered man!" She chuckled nodding to herself and lowering his arm. "Yes, yes! You'll give me excellent grandchildren!"

"AUNTY!!"

Gyomei certainly was taken off guard as well. Face going surprised and brows raising as the older woman just laughed it off. "Oh don't look so embarrassed, Honey!" You hid your blushing face in your hands as your aunt proudly puffed out her chest. "After all I am an EXCELLENT judge of character. Never once have I gotten a dissatisfied customer!~"

Unfortunately that last statement was true. She even got Jake a girlfriend somehow from what she told you over the phone. 

"Yes! Just looking at you both, I can tell you're meant to be together. Oh. I'm m sorry. I forgot to ask for your name."

Gyomei blinked again as you still stood there mortified by your aunt. But eventually he gained enough sense to answer. "Gyomei Himejima. I work with Y/n at the daycare."

"So you're good with kids too!?" She winked pointing at him as you contemplated just running into the wall to knock yourself out just to avoid this entire thing. "Oh. I like you. Why don't you kids come in and have some tea? Then you can tell me all about yourself."

"I-" Gyomei blinked again tilting his head at you before turning his blind gaze back to your aunt. "*ahem* Tea would be very lovely. Thank you, Mrs. L/n."

"Mrs. L/n sounds so old. Call me Aunty D. Everyone else does," she said while stepping inside again. 

"Oh. Very well. *ahem* So I heard you were a matchmaker?"

"That's right! I also do tarot card, palm, and tea leaf readings! But that's more of a side hobby. If you'd like, I can do a palm reading for the both of you free of charge!," she said completely disappearing back inside. 

After a second he turned to your red faced form. "Well...You weren't exaggerating about the eccentric part."

"I'm so sorry." You didn't remove your face from your hands, glad Gyomei wasn't able to see how embarrassed you were but he could probably tell you were by your voice. "I should've had you guys meet over sky call or something.

"Well it would be rude to not take up her offer for tea."

"You seriously want to go in?!"

"But of course! I did agree to meet her...and I love how cute you sound when flustered.~"

You squeaked red faced as a large hand of his suddenly pulled you against his side as a deep rumble of a laugh shook his large frame against yours. This was NOT helping your blushing face at all. So logically the best thing to do was to bury your face within his side and let out a muffled yell that hopefully your aunt couldn't hear. Only comforted by the hand rubbing your back as he chuckled.

"Come. Let's not keep her waiting."

*************************************

The day was beautiful.

With the sunlight sinking into the room through the window. The birds singing outside. Beautiful fresh smelling air. Beautiful visions of nature right outside of you looked. A bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Yellow sun. Flowers of every color. Green plants everywhere. Trees providing shade as the wind rolled by. A little blue pond in the distance full of fish.

Yes.

An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature- A shriek loud enough to make him wince from the high volume pierced the peaceful silence and made him give a sigh. Here we go again. He was used to this by now. That's why he wasn't phased when a tiny waddling and wailing mess all but latched onto his leg and he turned to stare down in the general direction at the sobbing girl clinging to himself. She wasn't older than two maybe three years old. Koto's age range.

"TOOK TEDDY!!," was all she wailed as she broke down into incoherent sobs and shrieks again.

A hand pointing at the culprit revealed him to be a boy around the same age as the shrieking girl and pouting at her. In his arms was the for mentioned 'Teddy'. A cute stuffed brown bear with a blue ribbon tied around his neck. Even though he couldn't really 'see' the image, he's been through this enough to know exactly what had happened.

Oh no. Not again. By now other workers in their signature pink aprons stopped what they were doing to look over. Little kids of all kinds stopped playing with blocks and coloring on paper to also look at the sight.

With a sigh he turned and walked over with the sobbing girl still still on his leg. "Akira, this is the fourth time this week you took someone's toy. You know taking things that don't belong to you is bad." He calmly held out his hands towards the child's general direction. "Give me Teddy and apologize."

It went about as well as he expected. Instead of just giving him the bear Akira pouted hard and held the bear up and away from him. "NO! MINE!" He didn't even get any time to pause when the bear was joined from his hands and up into an adult's arms. Akira blinked before looking up and screaming. "NO!! MIIIINE!!" He jumped up against the worker's legs holding up his hands. "IT'S MINE!! IT'S MINE!! GIVE BACK!!"

"No, Akira. You can't just take other kids stuff. You aren't getting the teddy bear," the worker spoke her face firm. "What you ARE getting is a time out for an hour and I'm telling your parents when they get here."

"NNNNNOOOOO!!!" THUD- Both listened as the toddler proceeded to throw himself onto the ground in a tantrum and proceeded to cry. "AAAAHHHH!!"

...She sighed before smiling at him and offering up the teddy bear. "Tough day, Mei?"

"No tougher than yours." The teddy was taken and handed over back to the little girl who had stopped crying by now. She clutched her bear in her arms as Akira proceeded his tantrum fit on the floor. "How are things in the infant nursery with Lacey?"

"Lacey's still mad at the whole debate with Sanemi but it's fine," she confirmed with a smile. She reached down and in one swoop scooped up the still crying child in her arms. "I'll just drop him off in time out corner and get back to the nursery before they wake up again."

"Alright, Y/n. Oh by the way, I wanted to ask something of you." She hummed as Akira continued to hiccup pathetically. "Rengoku is hosting a giant Halloween party with all our families. Would you like to join us? He's already informed me that I have permission to bring you."

You lit up excitedly. "Of course! I'd love to come! "

[wtaacde]

As a bilingual person who's been reading way too many fanfics with bilingual characters I reeeaaallly need to make a statement on how our minds work most of the time so people stop getting it wrong!

It's making me cringe so much 🥲

So I'm making a list of what I think is important to know when it comes to writing bilingual characters.

I've seen some simmilar posts on this topic, so some things might be repetitive but others are not, so stick with me. I'll be adding some personal examples to make it easier and more comprehensible.

So let's get started!

Master list to writing bilingual characters!

With no especific order os hierarchy.

1- This is the biggest mistake I see people making when writting bilingual character, so let's make this crystal clear: Bilingual people rarely mix their languages by accident!!!!

Especially if they've been living in a place where no one speaks their mother tongue and have little to no contact with their original culture.

Now, for the moments we do make those mix ups, it'll usually be with expressions we use all the time on our day to day lifes.

Let's work with examples!

I'm fluent in English, but my original language is Portuguese. In Portuguese, whenever someone is in a conversation we make this "éééééé" sound while we're thinking or unsure of what to say. It would be similar to the "uuuuhhh" people use in English.

I find myself and a lot of other Brasilian people saying "éééé" all the time even when speaking English, because that comes more naturally to us. It's an instict reaction that doesn't pass through the language shift that happens in our brain.

This also happens with more especific expresions. I don't talk to any foreign people, but when texting I catch myself trying to call people "amiga", which translates to "friend" and is normally used as an endearing term to call your friends or even strangers in a way to show friendliness. Now, not everyone in Brasil refers to their friends as "amiga", but I do, and I use it so much it slips in my vocabulary in English.

So, to summarize, there are expressions or words from our mother languages that come out almost as an instinct, but there usually aren't many of them and the frequency in which it happens is proportional to how much contact we have with speaking our native language.

2- Next up (and this is a funny one to me): it's easier to make math in our first language. If we were schooled in our first language, obviously. This could happen conciously or not.

So if you want your characters to have a funny moment, just have them do some math in their original language. This happens because we learned math and nurmbers in our mother language, and math is the same everywhere, so when we're learning another language we don't go through the same process with learning to use numbers practically like we do with words. So despite knowing what the numbers are called, it's still easier doing math in our language because our thought process is a lot faster and smoother in it.

3- We will revert completely to our mother language if we're emotional.

This could range from seeing a cute puppy and having a cuteness overload and instantly calling them cute pet names in our language to getting so mad that the only acceptable way to express our anger is to curse in our own tongue.

This sudden change happens naturally but they are intentional. We could totally curse and fawn in a different language but we choose not to because of the next point on this list.

4- Words are more meaningful in our own language.

I'll go straight to examples, because I know fic and romance writers are gonna have a field day with this.

When my dog was alive, I always talked to her in both English and Portuguese. But whenever I complimented her or told her I loved her in English, it felt fake. So I always repeated what I said in Portuguese and then I felt like I properly expressed my feelings.

So if i said something like "You're the cutest little baby in the world! I love you so much!" I always had to follow it up with. "Quem é a coisinha mais fofinha desse mundo todo? É o amor da minha vida? É, você é o amor da minha vida! Eu te amo mais que tudo nesse mundo!"

Only then did I consider she understood the depths of my love for her.

This also works in more angsty ways:

My parents were always very distant, so during one especific Father's day, when I was a kid, my school, as usual, had us making DIY presents for our fathers. We were supposed to write messages on the gifts and all my classmates were writing "eu te amo" on theirs. I couldn't write it, but it still felt like I had to or it would be weird. So I wrote "I love you" instead, because it felt less like a lie. Now, let's focus on the fact that I was a child. I had barely started learning English. I was nowhere near fluent. But it still felt easier to write "I love you" than "eu te amo". I never said "eu te amor" to my parents again.

Now, we had some fluff and some angst. Now let's get to humor!

Swearing always feels better in your own language. Do with that what you will.

5- On the subject of swearing, we will talk shit about anyone right in front of their face in a language they don't know and use different languages to mess with people.

This doesn't even need to be done with our first language (although it would feel more satisfying). Any language would do as long as the other person doesn't understand it. Bonus points if we get to do that with a friend/group of friends.

When I was a teenager I had just one friend that was also fluent in English. We used to talk to each other mostly in English for three reasons: the first one was obviously to practice, the second was to gossip with each other without people understanding and the third was so we could pretend we were foreigners and see people's reactions. We were two little shits that talked about the craziest stuff and no one bat an eye.

6- Now, let's finally look in the correct and conscious ways in which we change languages in the middle of a conversation.

First one and the one that happens the most is when we forget a word in one language.

I do this all the time and it sucks! I constantly forget how to say "concealer" in Portuguese and go around asking my family what's the translation even though no one speaks English in my house. I can't even remember the translation right now! A few days ago I couldn't remember how to say "pulseira" in English. It means "bracelet". It's an easy word. I still forgot it. Although I would recognize it if I saw it somewhere or if someone told me, my brain wasn't willing to do that work on its own.

So when this happens in real life, we'll always ask the people around us for the translation, even if they don't know the other language we speak, just in the hopes that they will understand the ✨ vibe ✨.

It's also really funny when this happens and the other person does speak both languages and also can't remember the translation. And sometimes we forget the word in both languages and have to resort to describing "the thing", which usually leads to a lot of misunderstandings.

Another way in which we change languages is when we want to use a very especific expression or memes in another language.

I'm gonna use Brazilian expressions for this because they're pure gold!

One that I find really funny (and somewhat family friendly for this post) is "o que o cú tem a ver com as calças?" which literally translates to "what does the asshole have to do with the pants?". If you think a little bit, you can still understand the meaning, but not all expressions work like that. If anyone's confused, the expression means that the other person is trying to talk about two different subjects that aren't at all correlated. You're basically asking "what does one thing have to do with the other?" with more crude language.

When we do this we can either just throw the expression in a different language and not elaborate on it, or try and explain it to the people around. It can vary.

7- If you have friends or family that also speak the same languages as you, you'll be shifting languages all the time without any warning.

I have a friend that most of our hangouts consist of watching K-dramas together. We live in Brasil, so we speak Portuguese, but we watch the k-drama in Korean and the subtitles are in English. During out binging marathon, we will speak all three languages with each other, even if none of us speak Korean. Sometimes we mix the words in all the languages, sometimes we have a full conversation in one language then switch to another on another point in time. Forgeting words in one language doesn't mean a thing in situtations like this. We'll just say the word in the language we remember and move on with the conversation.

This is everything I can remember for now. If anyone remembers other quirks of bilingual people, feel free to add on. If I remember more I'll keep adding to this post.

If you read all the way to the end, thank you and congratulations!

[halfnekoslair]

My dolls)

Photo by ig @gray_valet

Hi guys) The package with the previous mouse group order arrived in the US. The rest does not depend on me. So I'm making a post to show everything I can offer. Shipping from Russia is quite expensive, starts from about 70 USD for EMS, which I usually use. So it makes more sense for foreigners if someone organizes a group order to share the shipping cost. This has already been done twice. And I believe there is a discord group about this. But I will give you approximate numbers: This is about 70 USD for up to 1 kilogram 90 USD for up to 2 kilograms and about 105 USD for up to 3 kilograms.

This post is going to be huge so I'll put the prices on top:

15cm mouse. 73 usd for standard colour. +7 usd for extra colour.

25cm turtle. 230 usd.

28 cm 1/6 boy doll. 110 usd for Eirwyn 120 for character heads cause of their hair/ear parts.

MSD Eirwyn. 180 usd.

Speaking of group orders I would prefer not to go above 1000 USD in one box because I don't trust US Customs one bit. And if something bad is destined to happen - I would prefer it not to be a terribly large amount of money.

I can change the prices over time. I most likely will. I'm just groping for a while. The difference in price is more due to the amount of manual work I have to put into the doll than to the size. Turtles are far and away the most complex. And human dolls are less time-consuming. If I make a few and feel that it is more difficult or easier than I thought - I will change the prices. As you can see, so far I have only sold mice.

So what do I offer?

I'm obviously offering mice.

This is around life size mouse doll. Almost 15 cm standing tall and including ears.

I use ABS-like photopolymer resin for these dolls. Because it is easier to work with and looks more polyurethane-like. Mice have a lot of small delicate parts that would be harder to make look good with a harder resin. So it's a tradeoff. I prefer aesthetics over durability. I am not saying that ABS-like resin is too brittle. Many people use this type of resin for dolls. Especially small ones. I am just explaining why I use different types of resin for different dolls. I might consider printing a mouse with the tough resin I use for my larger dolls but that would cost more because it would take more time to post-process.

The colors "from the can" are gray and white. I can also print beige and chocolate at any time. Because these are the most basic colors and I can cut the leftovers. (Beige and chocolate may differ slightly from time to time because I due them myself. White and gray are constant.)

I can mix any color (green, purple). But there must be 2 or more mice of this color in the order. Otherwise it will be counted as an extra color because I will have a lot of leftovers that I will not be able to use.

There is also an option to add pink paws or tail or both. If the doll has 2 colors in it, it is counted as an extra color.

2. Turtles.

Photo by ig @gray_valet

Yes, I finally decided to try and start selling them.

They are 1/6 size. About 25 cm. A little shorter than Barbie. But wide and heavy.

There are 4 sculpts. Each of which has an individual head and some differences in the body.

Officially I name the sculpts by numbers, not by character names. but I think the characters are pretty obvious.

So #1 (Leo)) He's my princess >W< Lol. Sorry. This sculpt is quite beefy. But has the most delicate face and front shell of them all for my taste.

№2 (Raph)

This one the widest and most monstrous of them all. He was actually designed to be a little shorter than the first one, but he refused and ended up the same height.

№3 (Don) He is a little taller and thinner than the others. I tried to make him more human in proportions and face.

№4 (Mike) He's the baby of the group. I still wonder if I made him too small. But I like him as is.

Each of them has 3 faces on magnets. Neutral, angry and happy.

For turtle dolls I use a tough resin. Because they are actually big, even though they are short. And they have quite a strong elastic tension. It's a little less pretty than the ABS-like. But it's really tough. I have a video of me throwing it on the pavement.

Turtles have 3 colors. For the skin, plastron and shell. You can send me a picture and I will try to dye the resin as close as I can.

I will add 2 pairs of the chosen color eyes and 1 pair of white to the doll.

I can also print basic katanas and sais in a size suitable for the doll. In a random color.

3. 1/6 youth doll.

This body is about 28cm and is sculpted to represent a teenage boy in a Barbie-proportioned world.

This can go with my original Eirwin head and resin hair

Or an anime head with a hairstyle representing a character from the Genshin Impact game.

(Keep in mind that 1/6 of the sculpts has sculpted eyelashes) At the moment I have

Tighnari with magnetic ears (It's my friend's doll)))

and Cyno

Lol I even made his hair articulated.

I also tried to put a Barbie head on this body and it wasn't terrible)

I print these dolls with tough resin as well. Even though they are small they aren't very detailed so it's just nice to have a little more durability.

I can try to dye the color you want. But I can't promise 100% accuracy because one is the pictures on the screen and the other is the resin and pigments. And also I do not recommend dark skin colors. because this resin is very thick and it can reject the pigment while printing. With dark colors it can lead to a slight difference of the color between parts in one doll.

And last but not least...

4. MSD Eirwyn.

The MSD version of this sculpt has some differences from the 1/6 version. It has a wider neck, smaller eyes, and no sculpted eyelashes.

Eirvin is 45cm tall and is adjusted to fit into my company MSD doll group. (Photos with Dollzone and Resinsoul)

10mm eyes, 55mm feet. The only non-standard part of him is his butt. It's quite wide for a MSD) But I like the silhouette.

I print my dolls with full infill so it weighs the same as the cast doll.

Obviously I'm printing such a big doll with tough resin. And with such a size of parts I'm mostly calm for this doll. My cat has already given it a couple of test falls from the table.

For color - I also do not recommend dark here. For large parts and almost 10 hours of printing it can give a big difference in color.

I don't mind answering questions and taking additional photos if needed.

Congratulations) You survived my longest post.

[bodybeyondstories]

story prompt: A tailor has the power to enchant clothes to change the wearers body and does so when clients have unreasonable asks. like a guy with a flat butt ask for pants that flatter his rear so the tailor inflates his butt out of proportion…that kind of thing

My first thought with this was what if there was some sort of less than ethical business model based on forming a runaway positive feedback loop where someone had to keep coming back to have clothes altered and then ended up altered in some way, which would be fun to write eventually. Here I riffed on some classic careful-what-you-wish-for ass expansion.

1313 words

_____________

"You might have to adjust the seat a little, I've been hitting leg day pretty hard." Danny glanced down at me with an expectant smirk as I ran the measuring tape across his backside.

"Whatever you say, Cake Boss," I said, pretending the number wasn't exactly what it always was. "I might need to run and get a few more yards of fabric for this dump truck."

"Big butts are in style and I need to show off these gains." He swung his hips back toward the mirror to check himself out, eyes focusing expectantly on an unremarkable backside.

Are the gains in the room with us now? I thought, chuckling out loud.

Danny and I were good friends, and as such, he occasionally took advantage of the very generous friends and family discount for my tailoring services. This time, he wanted to get his suit refitted for the upcoming commitment ceremony of our mutual friends and favorite throuple, Jean, Gene, and Jerome, who were officially, begrudgingly, tying the three way knot. He had been through my shop no less than six times in the past several months, begging for an adjustment of this or that pair of trousers in anticipation of whatever new workout routine he had jumped into. He was obsessed with his ass, specifically--tragically--its undeniable flatness. I was a damn good tailor, but I could only do so much. News I had to break to him on a regular basis.

"Can't you like, work your magic or something?" he asked, winking down at me.

I thought for a long moment and relented, feet taking me toward the back of the shop. "I can try."

I reached behind my desk and pulled out a well worn notebook, decorated by decades of page folding, sticky noting, coffee staining, and annotating. It was one of many strange, sentimental pieces of inheritance I received from my mother, a practitioner of the craft who disappeared with her coven years ago. I was left with half memories of their gatherings, what little training I had paid attention to growing up, and of course, this notebook, my own annotations slowly forming a cross-generational palimpsest.

Occasionally, especially with my more tedious clients, I'll let my hobby cross into the tailoring business, enchanting the fabric with whatever magical push the wearing needs to feel their best self.

I pulled out a container of ink--hand made from ingredients foraged sustainably under the light of a full moon--and drew out what I hoped was the right mix of sigils for illusion and manifestation, sprinkled with a little bit of chaos, to give Danny the booty of his dreams. I stitched the small slip of paper into the waistband of his pants and handed them back to try on.

He slipped each leg in and pulled them up his toned quads, gasping as he stopped suddenly at the top of his hamstrings. What usually slipped on with minimal effort was now blocked by a perky bubble butt perched behind him.

"Nice!" he exclaimed, giving his newly hefty ass a jiggle. "I knew you could do it."

---

I rolled into the ceremony just as it was starting and posted up in one of the empty rows towards the back. As I passed the gaggle of bridesmates, gentlethems, attendants and henchmen (they all got to pick their own terms), Danny gave me a wink and a thumbs up, adjusting his waistline as the procession began.

As they walked down the aisle, I got a better look at my handiwork, and apparently so did everyone else. When he had left my shop his ass had looked delectably round and perky, but the pair of cheeks fighting for space as he strutted towards the front were on another level. They looked big. Really big.

Maybe it was the light? I tried to convince myself with a twinge of worry. I kept my gaze as professional as possible as he stood at the front with the rest of the attendants with his shoulders squared and hands clasped firmly in front of him. As the ceremony progressed, he seemed increasingly uncomfortable, squirming in place as he shifted from one foot to the other, the tails of his suit jacket riding up over his meaty buns.

Those cheeks were definitely bigger than they were during the fitting. In fact, they were bigger than they were twenty minutes ago. The sheen of sweat on his forehead and small winces of discomfort confirmed what I--and likely others--had picked up on. His ass was inflating imperceptibly but undeniably.

Something must have gone wrong with the spell. Or maybe something went too right? I don't know. I hoped I could intervene before things got out of hand, but time was quickly running out on that plan. The attendant behind him took a step back as his ass slowly ballooned from his otherwise slim frame, straining the fabric of his pants to their limit.

Even a magically enhanced pair of trousers can only take so much. When Jean, Gene, and Jerome were two thirds of the way through the sharing of vows, the seat of Danny's pants finally gave way, revealing his now basketball sized buns spilling into the open air clad in a pair of plaid bikini briefs.

A shockwave of gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. "Ooo girl," "Need his leg routine," "The whole bakery..." could be heard among the general whispers of surprise and politely restrained chuckles. Danny, face a flush of embarrassment, tried to hold what remained of the seat of his pants together as he slunk away, the attendant behind him quickly taking his place before the soon to be betrothed could notice the commotion or his wildly jiggling buns disappearing out of sight.

I found him behind the reception tent, clutching my handbag full of emergency repair materials for just this situation. But I quickly came to realize that some heavy duty thread and patches wouldn't be enough.

"Dude, it won't stop!" he exclaimed, trying and failing to cover the globes of his ass. "What do we do?!"

"Okay, um," I said, grasping wildly for solutions, "I have my notebook, I can try and figure something out on the fly. Just take your pants off and the growth should stop."

"...I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't!" he snapped, turning to show me the waistband stuck just below his hips, unbuttoned and stretched to the limit yet still woefully incapable of making it over his massive--and still slowly expanding--posterior.

"Okay, Plan B," I said, reaching into my bag. I brandished a seam ripper as I turned him around and traced the waistband of his pants until I found where I had installed the sigil. "Wow," I muttered, marveling at a pair of globular, gravity defying glutes that were nothing short of a work of art.

"What's up?" he asked, panic rising in his voice.

"Nothing, nothing, it's just...it's a lot..."

"Yeah I think we've all figured that out. Can we address this crisis while I still have any hope of wearing normal clothes?"

"Right." I snapped back into focus, searching along the seams for my signature stitch. "Found it!" I beamed, slicing through with one deft cut and yanking the sigil from the fabric.

"Thank fuck," he whispered. "Can you stitch this back up before the reception?"

"Yeah, I should have everything here, just let me--"

I was cut off by the unmistakable soft staccato of seams tearing. With the spell broken, and the pants returned to their mundane state, the overstressed fabric no longer stood a chance against the melons ballooning from Danny's lower back. Seams split one after the other as what was left of his pants fluttered apart, revealing every extensive curve of his beyond bodacious butt.

"Okay," I said. "I might have some spandex in the car."