#since there is no black or dark greys in it

[tinktoe]

If I may, here's my take:

Both with lots of milk, no sugar.

Either Russian or Hindu. Both amazing, interesting languages but insanely complicated with different writing systems. I also like Indian cinema a lot and would love to understand the nuances better that are lost in translation.

Usually around 8 or 9 am, depending on if I'm working or having the day off. Sometimes a bit later, but usually not later then 11 am or I will spend the rest of the day insanely grumpy about having missed so much of the day (I'm saying this as if I'm such an early bird and productive HA)

Def Spongebob. Later on also ATLA, Danny Phantom, and Sailor Moon.

Winter!

Often pessimist I guess, but I'm working on that xD

Hm, a little bit of both?

I love magnetic bookmarks!

Black fake patent leather boots. At this point they are basically falling apart but they are COMFY

I'm always adding a bit of scented oil to my laundry, so probably lavender or some flowery mix.... Basically still perfume

You remember that dragon from Shrek II? Like that but with big, puffy eyes with dark circles and a coffee in one hand that I'm keeping hot with my dragon breath.

*italic*

Probably a yellow or green-ish one, since I'm pretty sure I would suck at physical combat as a jedi

Being quirky

Ice skates! I looove going ice skating, that's when I know winter has truly started

Youngest

Being super fast and still coming late to every happening

Mostly black, white, grey and beige. But I do like wearing funky colors every now and then!

Bird! Most favorably a pigeon living in my garden

Dagger for tactical sneak attacks

OUUUUUuuuuuu tough one... Even though Its not my favorite I deeply respect good and fresh strawberry or blueberry ice cream

Salt, Pepper, nutmeg and cumin

Cambria, I am deeply in love with it

ask game that tells a lot about you.

how do you take your tea / coffee?

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why?

when do you wake up?

what was your favourite tv show as a kid?

summer or winter?

realist, optimist, or pessimist?

rain or sunshine?

how do you mark your spot in a book?

what are your favourite shoes like?

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be?

if you were a dragon, what would you look like?

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix?

what colour would your lightsaber be?

what is your defining personality trait?

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates?

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest?

what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

what’s your clothing colour palette?

pet snake or pet bird?

weapon of choice in a medieval battle

the best ice cream flavour

what spices do you always use when cooking?

default font when typing?

[randombush3]

recuérdame

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 1185 (treat this like a prologue ok x)

notes: i hope this actually takes off as a new series so i'm posting it now while i think about what comes next xx

There’s something groggy about the darkness in your mind. It’s not an eyes-closed kind of black; not a piece of white paper doused in ink. 

It’s thick like smog. Grainy. 

And all of a sudden, you are awake. 

There’s an incessant pounding in your mind that is sharp and rhythmic. The lights are too harsh, too much. The bed is hard under your heavy bones. 

You blink and even that small movement is strange, harder than it should be. 

The ceiling is peppered with small, grey dots. It’s terribly ugly, but your eyes cling to it as you try to shake off the haze. 

Slowly, the rest of the room comes into focus: sterile whites, beeping machines, tubes splaying out across what must be your body but feels like deadweight. The steady noise draws your attention after a moment, the sound seeming to echo inside your head. You turn, neck stiff and crunching, to catch a glimpse of a monitor, green lines spiking across its screen. 

The tubes aren’t just on top of you. They must be inside you. 

Something twists in your stomach. 

“You’re… awake.” 

…

No one really knows what to say to Alexia when she receives the call. 

Training is running over, the sun is beginning to set, and the girls are getting restless. The drill is nothing special, and the boredom it brings infects their captain, too, despite her valiant attempts at maturity. 

Alexia wants to get home, tonight of all nights. 

Five days ago, a work trip left her alone with a daughter that isn’t quite hers. There has been an other-mother shaped hole in the family ever since. Madrid continues to be evil. Her Catalan pride is vindicated once more. 

So when Pere blows his whistle, she all but sprints into the changing room (much to her coach’s dismay, since training ended because he assumed no one could run at that speed anymore), image of picture-perfect leadership be damned. 

Her shower is fast, clothes are shoved on even faster, and she is just about to walk through the automatic exit doors when her phone rings. 

A location update, she assumes. Or a complaint from an impatient tweenager (god, they seem to be fountains of those). 

It’s to her horror that she is incorrect. 

The nurse on the other line is eerily calm, but does not waste time beating around the bush. Her instructions are clear: come to the hospital now. 

“I think my fiancée has just died,” Alexia tells no one in particular. 

The team isn't sure whether or not she is joking. 

That was a week ago, and now she is here, in the hospital. Her bum is accustomed to the hard plastic chairs, her schedule skewed until the doctors finally wake you up from a medically induced coma. Amaia, her stepdaughter, is at her friend’s house, the boy’s mother insisting she care for her while Alexia makes a rather practical visit to the hospital. 

Alexia’s hands shake as she brings them to her face, rubbing her temples. The past week has been wrapped around her like a noose, suffocating and taut. She’s holding herself together but she is doing an uncharacteristically catastrophic job at it. Her mind is still tangled up in the phone call she’d received – and the many others she’d had to make after the nurse had hung up. Although there has been a swarm of activity (flights landing, taxis to the hospital, meals arriving at her front door with well-meaning notes attached), life has felt still. Stagnant. 

She is stuck in something she doesn’t know how to deal with. 

She closes her eyes for a second and inhales with as much steadiness as she can muster, letting the beeping of your monitor anchor her back to the present. It’s a strange sound to feel grateful for, each pulse a reminder that you are still here. With her. 

They have been gradually reducing the sedatives administered to you, making the answer to her question always ‘she will wake up when she wakes up’. The twitches in your finger have grown old now, and she is becoming very impatient. 

“If you wanted a holiday, we could’ve taken time off,” she tells you with a forced chuckle. “You didn’t need to get yourself into a…” 

You shift slightly in the bed. Alexia’s eyes snap open, her body surging upwards in hope. 

“Come on…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please…”

Your eyelids flutter, hesitant, like they’re testing the weight of the world behind them. She hopes: at least it’s something. 

And it could be more, surely? It should be any minute now, according to the doctors. The wait will be over and she can get you back.

It’s been fifteen days since Alexia saw the eyes she fell in love with. 

Words fall out of her mouth but she barely registers them, staring at you listlessly, unprepared for this moment. She had thought about it, of course, imagining how to go about updating you on what you’ve missed: how Amaia’s match yesterday ended in a draw; how her own was a sizable but unsatisfying win. 

She wants to say things she should say more. Reminders, confessions. She wants to let out the anger that you did this to her; that you left, that you didn’t come back. And how she wants to hold you, kiss you, love you even more.

But the first thing Alexia notices behind bleary eyes is terror. Confusion. And, what she had told herself would not happen: a lack of recognition. 

I’m in a hospital, you think, but I don’t know who is here with me. 

The moment stretches on, thin and frail, and Alexia feels the tautness in her stomach like a rope holding dead weight over a cliff. Her heart – bruised, aching, impatient – is pierced by the way you look at her with poorly-masked indifference. 

“Hi,” she tries, waiting for you to come back fully, wanting to skip the part where it hurts so much. Her hand reaches out, hovering above your own, fingers aching to touch you, but she holds back. “Do you know where we are?” 

She should really call the nurse in, but she can’t quite bring herself to disrupt this. 

Your eyes flicker, glancing at the tubes and machines. The mattress hasn’t gotten any softer, nor your body any lighter. “Hospital,” you whisper, throat scratchy and hoarse. The word appears in your mind as almost foreign, coming from somewhere deeper than the blankness of the surface. Then your gaze drifts back to her, the hopeful woman at your bedside, brows furrowing as you struggle to place her into a life you can’t quite recall. Not that you’ve tried; you’ve got a screaming headache. 

The question on your lips twists Alexia’s insides. She anticipates it, with an instinctiveness that almost frustrates you. “I’m Alexia,” she says. She doesn’t sound sure. 

You stare through her and the distance clutches at her neck. Her nightmare lands, cold and final. 

“I’m… sorry. I don’t,” and like how she knows the question, she is well aware of the end of that sentence. 

[dicipher]

SPOILERS for homicipher lore

the hand is not Chopped's hands. He specifies MEETING it. Therefor it's a seperate entity. Ypu'l also notice that it moves independently from Chopped, touching the hand does not stimulate Chopped, he doesn't feel it, confirming this.

Silvair was the one to chop of Chopped's body. This is said. If we also go off the fact he chops Adami if we attack him too easily, we can safely assume Chopped was a human that was transformed into a resident as well. Which would be a confirmed 'ex human' character

On that note, Adami notes her hair graying after staying in the world too long. Other characters with gray hair includes the hairdresser and Silvair. Does that relate to anything? Maybe not. But if hair becoming lighter is a result of humans exposure to the other world, that could include us, silvair, hairdresser, hugeface, chopped (even if his hair is not gray, black could lighten into grey, and brown could lighten into pale orange in his case), while characters with dark hair (gap, crawling, scarlet) could be native to the other world..... it's very possible this is just unique to us though considering everything else that's special about Adami.

Gap lacks a body, heart, etc, but he does have hands. Gap also is able to 'teleport' trough these places, like wormholes, since he's able to drag us trough places that should never connect. He's also able to fit in any space so long as it is: dark enough.

Silvair purely 'likes' us as a science experiment. Yes he is polite, yes he is kind, but that should not be mistaken with empathy. He specifies, if you ask him if he likes you, that he does not. He finds you entertaining. And he specifies he does not understand 'like' (in japanese like and love are pretty much the same word, so this essentially translates to saying "i don't understand love"). (Though because we just asked, it could be him saying "i don't understand why you're thinking i love you") either way, Silvair does not think of us romantically.

Our ability to regenerate our body entirely seems special. Silvair points out he finds it interesting, and Silvair is able to do it too (saying he will regenerate after we kill him) whereas any other creature we are able to kill doesn't display that ability.

It's not ENTIRELY clear what kind of power names hold to their kind. Scarletella getting our name is obviously: not good™️, but us giving him a name seems to make him our servant in some way. If you say Silvair's name in his route, he looks confused, and is quiet for a bit. Perhaps because in a way, you named him in that moment. Names deeply correlate to a person's identity, and it seems residents either do not have names (are not born with them) or lose them following their transformation in some way. Unclear on that. But NAMES. NAMES RELEVANT.

Considering Human's presence (in the original, he speaks english, while everyone else (other human characters) speaks japanese), either the world has different ways of entering (stuff 'falling' into the world seems to confirm that the elevator is not the only way in/out, it's just the ghost apartments way in/out), or he's a foreigner who happened to go by....

Residents exclusively feed on flesh and blood. Interestingly, though. When first meeting Stitch, he seems surprised to see a human (pointing and exclaiming "human!", asks crawling a bunch of questions, and finally asks crawling permission to eat us, specifying "they could be tasty!", which could indicate that either humans are rare in some way, or that stitch has never personally seen one, or he could see them plenty and just be curious about all of them like he was for us. Considering some don't seem to even recognize us as human (Chopped introduces us as a resident to Silvair even though Silvair recognizes us as human right away. This is early story too, so we aren't residents yet.), i think i'm leaning towards the fact most resident don't know what a human even really looks like. Thus, what are they eating? Probably each other. The food on the painting's plate, the meat on Silvair's table, and the mush Silvair turns into if you kill him all look very simmilar. This is also 100% confirmed, since Crawling specifies the ears he found are a resident's, before eating them at the end of the interaction. So residents most definitely engage in cannibalism, and eating humans is probably not necessarily their primary diet. (Except for Scarletella who we were unknowingly giving tons of human meat to by bringing the bodies to the ghost apartments for disposal. That's like some stranger delivering tons of rare expensive food to your porch. I'd fall in love too buddy.

[maracujatangerine]

Hi I'm thinking a normal amount about Absalom today! Snooty Good PetTM who still (at least in Brutus' nightmares) moves to shield the others. Could we maybe hear a little about him and Brutus interacting (do they get to interact??) or how they first met or their first impressions of each other or. Anything like that? I love they and your writing is always tasty. -@secretwhumplair

86. Introducing Pets

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

”Do you really want to put them together, love? I mean, Brutus can be a bit high-spirited, and he is quite a lot stronger than your pet.” Wayland Jones shook his head. “I don’t want anything to happen.”

“Ah, don’t worry so much, dear. That nice WRU consultant did recommend for them to get some alone time together to suss each other out. And…” Cecilia twirled around gracefully, making her red skirt swirl out around her. Playfully, she put her hands on his shoulders, reaching up to give him a light peck on the cheek. “… since we are going to live together now…” She beamed, and turned to continue onwards down the corridor. “…we can’t really keep them apart for ever. Besides, we’ll just give them a few minutes, how bad can it get?”

“Let’s try it. I left Brutus in the hallway.”

“And Absalom is in the bedroom. I’ll go and get him.” She went eagerly, heels clacking against the floor.

Brutus and Wayland arrived first. The black-haired guard dog obediently went to kneel on the floor next to the unlit fireplace. His casual attire of dark grey sweatpants and t-shirt matched in colour, but clashed in tone, with Wayland’s dark grey suit and white shirt.

“I really want this to work, so make sure that you don’t mess it up for me.” Wayland’s hash tone made Brutus flinch. “She likes her pet, so be sure that you are nice to it. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. In fact, I count on you to keep an eye on Absalom. Romantics are smart enough to get in all sorts of trouble, but stupid enough to not get out of it again.”

“Yes, Master.”

Soon, the door swung open and Cecilia entered, Absalom half a step behind. At his mistress order, the pet knelt on the other side of the fireplace. He was elegantly dressed in a light blue vest over a white shirt, matching blue trousers, and his wavy, brown hair tied at the nape of his neck with a brighter blue ribbon. His collar was soft, grey leather, in sharp contrast to the black, synthetic material around the guard dog’s neck.

“Absalom, this is Brutus.” Cecilia said, grinning at the formality of introducing the pets to one another. “Brutus, this is Absalom. We want you to get to know each other better, so we’ll give you a few moments to talk.”

Both Cecilia and Wayland went towards the door.

“Have fun, pets.” She smiled. Wayland caught Brutus’ eye and mouthed; ‘Behave’.

As the door fell shut behind them, both pets stared awkwardly at each other for a moment.

Then, Absalom rose gracefully to his feet. The small scar on his upper lip emphasised by his sneer.

“Well, well… look what the cat dragged in….” In an undertone he added. “Though of course it would have to have been a fairly large and weight-bearing cat.”

He danced quickly backwards when Brutus also came to his feet. “That was a bit of a joke.” The pet said quickly, blue eyes wide. Finding himself, he tilted his head and tried a winsome smile. “I’m not usually meeting guard dogs. You are very imposing close by, darling.”

Standing face to face, they were almost the same height, but Brutus’ muscular heft compared with Absalom’s lithe build made the guard dog probably twice as heavy. They watched each other warily. Then, Brutus broke the silence with a shrug and a smile.

“I’m not used to your sort either.” He admitted, and scratched his head. “Actually, Tte last time I saw a romantic was when we got an old one as bait. He was just running around like a headless chicken and Jazz almost crushed his head when he knocked him out.” He chuckled. “It was actually quite funny… he…” Brutus looked up and finally seemed to register that Absalom’s somewhat condescending smile had frozen and turned into something more resembling a rictus grin. “Eh… He was all right, though… or at least he survived.” He swallowed, and tried again. “I wouldn’t do that to you, though. My Master has told me to be nice with you.”

“Okay then.” Absalom went for a forced, chipper tone. “We’re going to live together, we need to get along.”

Brutus nodded and held out his hand. “Truce?” Absalom studied his face for a moment, hesitating. Intensely blue eyes searching dark brown.

Then, carefully, he reached out his thin, carefully manicured hand, and clasped the the guard dogs darker, larger hand in his own.

“Truce.”

*

Everything feels a bit dark and scary in the world at the moment. Especially when things feels like they are going the wrong way, I think it is really important to involve yourself with actually trying to improve things, preferably together with other people in the world out there.

It is, however, also important to keep your own spirits up, so I took this advice, and decided to make something today. I have been twisting and turning this wonderful ask by @secretwhumplair in my mind for a while, and it finally clicked together in a way I’m happy with. I was also inspired by this ask. Thank you so much for the ask, @secretwhumplair, I hope you’ll enjoy Brutus and Absalom’s first meeting! ❤️

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[cattolino]

polar.

pairing: lee felix x f reader. genre: nevermore au, fluff, strangers to friends to implied lovers. word count: 1.8K

Main characters are adapted from Wednesday Addams (psychic) and Enid Sinclair (werewolf) from the TV series Wednesday.

(this fic has a minho x reader version on my insta @cattoleeno)

“You sure she’ll wear it?”

“She’d look so pretty in this colour!”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

March 14th meant White Day.

And White Day meant reciprocal gifts.

For the umpteenth time Felix peeked at the salmon-coloured knitted jumper folded neatly inside a bright yellow paper bag, its thin handles casting an indented red mark on the skin around his left wrist as the result of the length of time he’d been carrying it around the whole day.

Hyunjin usually found Felix’s flamboyant nature exciting given he shared similar qualities, but the siren was worried that day. His cerulean eyes dimmed down a little in a reflection of his concern.

All because her, the very person Felix was about to gift the vibrant jumper to, had a profound affection towards everything in grayscale, prone to dark, to the point that if one took a peek at her closet, they’d only see a bottomless abyss of a black hole. Maybe a small space for whites and greys. And Felix, on the contrary, wore everything but the dreary shades of black and white where it got to the point that if one took a peek at his closet, they’d only see rainbows and unicorns.

She was nearly unapproachable. Or she didn’t let herself appear approachable. The psychic had a disembodied stitched-together hand called Thing on her shoulder—that everyone thought was cool and terrifying at the same time—as a sort of pet, she was especially given a black and grey striped uniform instead of the standard violet that made her stand out, and she spoke deadpan humour that oftentimes drove away most people.

Meanwhile Felix loved to be approached. The tip of his platinum hair was highlighted pink and blue, his socks were always of bright colours, and his werewolf pointed nails were painted in pastels.

If their fashion preferences and general appearances couldn’t tell enough already, they were also the polar opposites in terms of personalities. She inclined towards a small group of friends and was appealed to macabre. While Felix favoured the company of many and loved sparkly, radiant things.

Hyunjin couldn’t entirely hold him down, regardless. Because even though Felix’s curiosity about her had already started since the first day he had been admitted to the boarding school where she had downright deadpanned his choice of colourful pullover, it had never grown past mere curiosity until a month prior, on Valentine’s day, when he’d seen her closely for the first time again in a long while.

Felix remembered that one February 14th so vividly.

How her black-and-grey school uniform made its premier appearance in his periphery. How the whole class had gone silent as she placed down a massive box of chocolate assortments on his desk. How her flat tone was music to his ears, “I don’t know what you like. Just eat them.” How the brief gaze of her mesmerizing, dark irises combusted fireworks in his chest. How the heavy treads of her black platform leather shoes as she strided outside were followed by strained titters from her peers in the hallway. How Thing that perched on her shoulder flirtatiously waved him goodbye seconds before the last strand of her hair disappeared in the hallway.

That day was the day Felix began to believe in love at first sight.

Hyunjin had been the inevitable victim of Felix’s unending wonderment about her cryptic presence ever since. The siren had had to deal with balls and balls of salmon pink yarn every time he paid the werewolf’s dorm a visit and watched him knitting endlessly. Hyunjin just hadn’t seen it coming that the jumper was meant to be given to her. In hindsight, Hyunjin would’ve taken part in sabotaging Felix’s craft, too anxious for the werewolf’s wellbeing should his hard work be outright rejected and should it break his heart.

After all she was allergic to colours. And Felix was but the presence of colours.

“Just curious though, why orange?”

Felix turned to Hyunjin with a dramatic gasp, pointing at the rainbow pullover he had on over the striped violet blazer with his forefinger, specifically at the muted orange on one of the sleeves. “This, is orange.”

He shoved the paper bag onto Hyunjin’s face right against the tip of his sharp nose, “and this, is salmon pink,” the werewolf gave his tongue a disappointed click, “I expect more from an artist like you, Hwang.”

“So, why salmon?” Hyunjin scoffed, emphasizing the last word, “no offense to your preferences, but your colours would look dreadful and horrid on her. I’m currently imagining it and…” the siren scrunched his nose, “nah.”

“I’m imagining it and she looks lovely!” Felix chirped, his sparkly blue eyes roaming dreamily over the dark ceiling of the hallways above.

The Botanical Sciences class she was attending was just around the corner. Hyunjin’s sharp irises scanned the students in groups who had just marched out of the class in case she moved past coincidentally. “Just be careful she’s not necessarily—”

The familiar severed hand crawled across the paving stone floor, avoiding a horde of leather shoes, before it reached Felix’s polished one. Thing’s fingers drummed against the vamp of his shoe gently, pleased to once again meet the happy little werewolf, before slithering back away to its legitimate owner.

Felix squeaked out her name at the sight of a group of three students having just walked out of the class. He darted towards his target in a black quilted sweater over the dark uniform.

“...nice to anyone.” Hyunjin sighed, opting to wait behind one of the corinthian columns. He was not particularly fond of the psychic’s presence, too bloodcurdling for his irradiant nuance, he thought.

Beside her was Jisung, her gorgon friend who always had a beanie on his head to hide his snake hair, and Chan, her extremely attractive vampire friend that had charmed twice as many as a siren could ever have with their singing.

As if the sweet chirp of her name that rolled off Felix’s tongue wasn’t a distressing alarm for her to run off, just like how she would’ve if it were anyone else that called her name with the same sugary tone, she turned and patiently watched the werewolf’s little jumps approaching. Thing had apparently crawled back up to its rightful place on her shoulder by the time Felix stood there before her.

However her face slightly contorted in question and mild disgust when a bright yellow paper bag was shoved onto her chest, the first time any colour more vibrant than the boring shades of black and white ever getting so close to her allergic skin. She sneaked a glance inside and thought it was an odd pink knitted jumper. She raised a brow at Felix without a word.

“White day!” His face beamed with a radiant grin and eyes sparkled in unfaltering enthusiasm as he exclaimed.

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you for the chocolate last Valentine’s but I hope you wouldn’t mind that I shared them with my classmates including my friend Hwang Hyunjin over there.” He pointed at the tall boy who was standing stiffly against a pillar and a little too far.

She hummed, “oh, the ugly man of the night.”

“People genuinely want to be with him. He rarely sings to attract them.” Felix defended.

“You’d be surprised.”

Thing dawdled into the paper bag and tugged at the jumper, rubbing the soft fabric between its forefinger and thumb. Its palm faced her briefly before turning back to the jumper in confusion, as if calculating whether or not the colour would suit her.

“It’s pink.” She announced.

“Salmon pink,” Felix corrected, “works great with black and dark grey like your wardrobe.” Then he nodded at the paper bag, “dark tones suit you best but I do honestly think you’d look amazing in vibrant colours as well. Just for the accent, you know.”

“Looks like a rainbow vomited here.” She deadpanned.

“Looks like something you’d take out of your own closet. You made this yourself?” Chan asked with a wide dimpled grin.

Felix looked his way, noticing how the vampire’s usual crimson irises glinted softer, “mhm!”

“Looks like it’s reciprocated then.” Jisung chimed in, draping an arm over her shoulders to which the latter dodged right away with a single shrug and a glare of warning.

“Of course!” Felix confirmed abruptly, making Chan and Jisung choke on their own spits, “where I come from reciprocating Valentine’s gifts we receive is a form of courtesy and gratitude. Though it seems like White Day isn’t commonly celebrated here.”

“Did you get any more Valentine’s gifts?” She inquired.

“Nope! But I—”

“Good.”

Felix glanced at the screen of his watch when his alarm for the next class went off, having realized the nick of time he had before Werewolf Reproduction class.

“Well, I hope you won’t throw it away,” he grinned, “just return it and tell me if you decide it’s too hideous for you, I’ll knit you a black one next time! Bye, Thing!”

Felix waved them goodbye and skipped his way back to Hyunjin who had been waiting anxiously out of earshot.

🍫🍫🍫

The next day Hyunjin was waiting at the entrance of the quad as usual. Felix’s striped blazer swirled in a gust of the spring wind at his sides as he was sprinting across the field from the dorm, a navy ribbon tying his hair in a half ponytail.

They were running late for the first class of the day.

“You slept in again did—” Hyunjin was about to drape a hand over his shoulder but halted suddenly, his grin faltering, mouth agape at something—or someone.

Felix followed his gaze. But it was as if the sun had just shone a few inches over his head, he beamed. His lips dramatically curled into a broad smile, his eyes sparkled and his chest swelled in pride.

She was wearing a salmon pink jumper.

Perhaps it was because she was always inexpressive that it was fairly easy to notice the light shade of crimson that uncharacteristically tinged her cheeks and ears as she was drawing near. Thing hopped off her shoulder and onto Felix’s platinum head at the proximity, its fingers tickling the crown of the werewolf’s head, making him giggle.

“It’s hideous. Make a black one.” She deadpanned as a matter of factly and walked away without waiting for Felix’s response, mingling with Chan and Jisung who were giggling in the hallway.

“You’re not returning it?” Felix half shouted.

She didn’t say or do anything.

And Felix grinned.

He couldn’t be any more amused and satisfied.

“She’s right.” Hyunjin nudged Felix in the arm, staring down at the werewolf with a sly glint in his cerulean eyes, “she indeed looks hideous. But anything to keep her wolf’s smile, I guess.”

[ricoka]

there are art supplies where it genuinely doesn't make much of a difference what kind of price point they're in but there are art supplies where it makes so much of a difference

[mjhartwork]

spotted lanternfly in oil pastels

[mizzical]

figuring out babygirl's colors and outfit and hair is hard

[sillylilguystehe]

So I drew cyrus in one of his outfits from TACO salad!! A amazing fic by Lady_Sandry on ao3. Some close ups under the read more and notes in the tags!

[koslinas]

currently on a hiatus because i have someone visiting me but astarion having three times the amount of romantic scenes than wyll..........

[mirokuna-hime]

My unpopular opinion of the day is that making Chuuyas eyes blue was absolutely the right decision for the anime.

[hooved]

doodled an outfit i plan to wear when i go out sometime this week/weekend in mspaint with my mouse because i’m waiting for the belt and the checkered shirt to get here in the mail and i’m excited lmao

[lazilyhereandhazilyclear]

I was tagged by the lovely @thesadboisguidetolife to give this a go.

Rules: bold & color the ones that are true and tag whoever you want to do it too!

APPEARANCE:

i'm over 5'8” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don't often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES & TALENTS:

i play a sport (or used to) // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIPS:

i have been single for over a year// i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETICS:

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

MISCELLANEOUS:

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle// i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies //i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

i'll edit this post soon to tag others (trying to shift my hyperfocus to, like, maybe i should cook and eat), but here ya go.

[psychicbluebirdmiracle]

Not me psycho analyzing all of the characters colors in lockwood and co again

[todayisafridaynight]

I mean Yokoyama is only 43 and he’s gone dark gray pretty fast but with a touch of tasteful hair streak. He needed to relate to someone

its ok yokoyama your hair looks sick as hell... i accept greying kiryu with my whole heart.....

[transgenderization]

im still thinking about my astray colorscheme btw ive been thinking about it all day. have no idea what i want to do with it