My contribution to Dorianmance Week! Which, as we all know, is the ideal time to expand on a SpaceNerd x Alien AU, rofl.
The basic premise is that Dorian is an astronomy nerd who is convinced Thedosians are NOT alone in the universe despite not having scientific proof. As a result, he is relentlessly mocked by his colleagues and is threatened to have his academic credentials revoked. One night while stargazing, he’s finally proven right. Though he gets a little more than he bargained for.
Meanwhile Pixy is a space-faring hamster from the Planet Pixy, which is inhabited by billions of adorable clones who all identify as Pixy and all share a telepathic hivemind of every Pixy’s collective thoughts, memories, feelings and experiences as they explore the universe. And they all love Dorian!!!!
Depicted above is their first meeting, where Dorian meets just
the one stray Pixy that wandered from the rest of the group into his corner of the galaxy.
Their relationship (and Pixy’s presence in Thedas for that matter) is largely a secret because Dorian is paranoid that the scientists at TASA will want to study Pixy (ie. put in tank, dissect, perform hideous experiments etc).
The red pompom on Pixy’s head is a dendrite-like extension that relays signals to other fellow Pixy’s across the cosmos and unifies the collective Pixy consciousness. Like synapses bouncing between adorable sentient neurons in a gigantic primordial cosmic brain entity that exists in everywhere in the universe at once. This is in contrast to Thedosians who resemble Earthlings and have their own isolated lives and individual experiences in their own tiny pocket of the universe. But ANYWAY.
I guess you could say it’s a bit of a space ship. …Get it? =D;;;;
Hope you like!!! XD;; The idea came to me while I was drunk and blew up from there.
taking his advice, you’ve been bingeing the drama series you never finished, re-reading the comics of your childhood, buying the new editions released for their 20th anniversary
none of them give you the inspiration to write;
but appreciation comes much easier
it’s a lighthearted way of enjoying stories -
and to not think of it as inspiration for your own work.
something you haven’t done in a while
on monday morning; minhyun shows up like the genie’s collected pixie dust and sprinkled it into your eyes
out of the blue and looking beautiful
the long winter coat he’s wearing flattering on his tall figure
“come on.” he presses the space bar to pause your show abruptly. “i’m taking you out for coffee. take your big coat with you.”
in the years that you’ve known minhyun as a student, he’s never struck you - as well … demanding.
but the way he almost manhandles you into your thickest coat and insists that the two of you walk in the face of cold wind instead of taking the bus is a welcome surprise
especially when he expertly fixes your hair when it gets attacked by the breeze
or the way he slips your hands into his pocket when you complain of them going numb
in the years that you’ve been apart, he’s somehow transformed from the shy good looking class president into a self assured man who knows exactly what he wants to do with his life
and how to make your heart skip to a rhythm akin to the raindrops against the slanted windows of your attic
did he know that everything he does is heart fluttering?
the two of you finally reach a small cafe; delicate handwriting on black chalkboard menus, small round tables paired with hard chair, and glinting gold fixtures dangling dim lights
it’s by no means minimalist in it’s old world love affair, missing the contemporary modern flair of most coffee shops you frequent for their convenience instead of taste
you love it, but how did minhyun even find this place?
i don’t remember him ever drinking coffee…
“have you had coffee here before? my friend - seongwoo - runs it. he says that he makes the best in town.”
“he says?” a smile creeps its way onto your face. maybe minhyun hasn’t changed that much.
“i don’t like coffee.”
a giggle escapes you. and you’re not sure whether it’s the grimace on his face as he mentions the bitter drink that brings you laughter, or if it’s the fact that some thing never really do change.
“then why’d you bring me to a cafe?”
“because i know you like coffee.”
the rush of warmth you feel has nothing to do with the steam rising from the hot coffee that arrives at the table
a set of perfect not-so strangers face each other,
and the curtains to your abandoned show have raised again.
minhyun takes you out to eat more frequently from then on,
popping into the your office randomly.
it starts on monday, then wednesday, and friday
growing into every other day of the week
and before long - he’s in your office at least one meal a day; making sure you’re actually having three meals a day
and you fall into a comfortable type of companionship whereby he frequently spoils you by bringing you to new places
‘in search of inspiration’ is what he says
but they feel a little too much like dates for you to not worry about thinking any deeper
you needed to know where you stand, and whether you need to put your guard up
to know if you should stop lucid dreaming in broad daylight
“are you dating anyone right now?”
is there any jealous girlfriend i should watch out for in my sleep?
“no.” minhyun laughs, fennec fox-like crinkle of eyes. “there’s no jealous girlfriend you need to be careful of.”
you’re not shy of asking. especially when the man across you is hwang minhyun.
you’re sure he was aware how popular he was at school. there’s no way he isn’t more popular now
“there’s someone i’ve chosen, and i don’t want anyone else.”
which sounds a lot like something you’ve heard before -
“i don’t want anyone but those i choose to read my work.”
the way he says it, looking into your eyes as if they were an ocean he was trying to measure the depth of makes you grip onto the edge of your sweater
controlling the slight tremble in your hands
they opened. closed. trying to hold something that wasn’t there.
you grip a little tighter onto soft jersey
trying to stop the urge to write
“y/n?” minhyun’s rasping on the other side of the line,
voice husky. and a nagging feeling develops in you when you realize he must’ve caught a cold.
“i don’t think i can make it today.”
the line goes a little dead as you pull yourself together, working out the right words to say
it’s almost like you’ve put your ear to a seashell and you’re in a saltwater room fishing thoughts out of the water
underwater caves sparingly empty of the nouns you’re looking for, and the verbs you want to use
you’ve gotten so used to having minhyun by you that the sudden loss of companionship will mean a strangely lonely week
but why should you feel that way? it’s only a day or two
“it’s fine; just focus on getting better.”
“thanks. this is so embarrassing, i’m always telling you to take care of yourself and i’m the only one that falls ill.”
“really, what am i going to do?” you joke, trying to lighten up the mood you’ve dampened
you mean it as in ‘what am i going to do with you?’ and minhyun knows it too
but it doesn’t stop him from saying the words on his mind anyway
“you can promise me to wearing warmer clothes, going out to eat instead of ordering takeaway, and don’t get sick as well.”
“i won’t.” you lie, rustling through the newspapers and envelopes you kept by the door. treasure hunting for a chinese restaurant arranged into numerals
“i really am sorry…” he trails off when you cut him off to tell him to rest
“honestly, just sleep. i’m a big girl, i can take care of myself.”
you’re lying down with your hand-rest as a makeshift pillow and surely there’s going to be a imprint on your cheeks,
when a sharp knock wakes you from your carb-triggered nap
(three curt consecutive knocks you’ve become way too accustomed to)
“minhyun oppa? is that you?”
i thought he wasn’t coming over today?
“yeah…” he sniffs out a reply, the slight cold he’s attending to revealed in his nasally tone. “i’m opening the door.”
“sure, come in.”
in your own disoriented drowsiness, sleep in your eyes…
even someone as handsome as minhyun is being registered as a blur
it’s no surprise that you completely forget about the state of your room
“you promised to take care of yourself.” his nose crinkles at the familiar scent of jjajangmyeon, immediately recognisable as soon as he entered your office, before his gaze falls to scan what you’re wearing
(or rather - what you haven’t hung behind your chair)
“i didn’t go out.” so i didn’t need to wear a coat.
“you probably didn’t even wear it when you went down to pick it up food earlier.”
bingo. minhyun knew your lazy habits too well.
“it’s no big deal. look, i’ve let you in my office. you’re probably already spreading germs and i’m gonna end up ill tomorrow. so you should give me a long looong extension for when i need to hand you my first draft and just stay and take care of me since i’ll be sick because of you and - why are you looking at me like that?”
pulling out the chair across you (what you now instinctively refer to as his chair); minhyun sat, leaning his face on his palm as he tilts his head in that 45 angled way of his
he has to know that he looks good like that
no one could ever hide anything from him if he interrogated them when looks at them this way
“you called me oppa.”
furrowing your eyebrows. you thought back to when you answered the door in your sleepy state.
“yeah, i did… do you… do you not like it?”
“no. it’s just you haven’t called me that since the first time we met.”
“i can just call you minhyun if you prefer that.”
“you can call me anything you chose, y/n.”
minhyun oppa minhyun oppa minhyun oppa
you wanted to hide somewhere
duck below the cold wood of your desk
lock yourself in seongwoo’s stupidly coffee themed toilet
or even just trap yourself in that tiny fridge in the office
you didn’t expect to feel this way about minhyun when he came back into your life
rushing in as a plum rain flood
just saying his name sounds like a confession to your ears
you must’ve already known that you’d fallen in love with hwang minhyun.
but to hear your own confirmation was crazy.
addictive. strange. and utterly crazy.
you’d always loved words. characters. the way they rolled off the voice in your mind as you internally read them out
but those three syllables.
how could someone’s name have this effect on you?
how did this happen?
you’ve somehow been seduced by his showering of easy affection
and the words he said in that sweeter-than-honeyed-tea voice,
to wear warm clothes, eat healthy foods, and don’t get sick.
words that gave you strength and showed you love.
minhyun looks at you curiously,
his gaze soft and focused as you get lost in driftwood thoughts down the flowing stream of having your heart stolen from right across you
just as always…
never judgement in his eyes. never any assumptions.
i am okay because of you.
he remained a strong cliff of support against the crashing waves of the expecting world
Summary: On each and everyone’s wrist, there is the name of both your soulmate and enemy. You discover that your wrists both say the same thing; a boy named Peter.
You couldn’t believe your ears. For a minute, you almost thought you misheard him. Could this boy be the one your meant for and the one who will bring your life come tumbling down? This handsome, devil of a boy couldn’t be the Peter that your wrists prophesied. Was that why he smiled as he looked at your wrists? Whenyou looked quickly down at his wrists, you didn’t see any names. You felt your face fall a little, but you recovered when you saw the joy in his eyes.
“Well (Y/N), it’s very nice to meet you. I’m sorry for the Lost Boys, they can get a little carried away sometimes” he said smirking. “They just like to play games.”
“It’s ok. I just hope hope me being the only girl doesn’t make them want to willingly hand me over to some scary pirates.”
“ I won’t let them hurt you” Peter said, his face stone cold. You wanted to trust him so badly, but if this really was the Peter that would be your enemy, then you needed to keep your distance.
“So, can you use some more of your magic to fly us back to that camp of yours?” You smirked.
“Say no more.” Peter grabbed your waist and he flew you back to the camp, while you tried the whole flight to stop grinning like an idiot.
It been three weeks since you were brought to Neverland. They had been the best and worst three weeks of your life. The Lost Boys had accepted you as one of them, and some even considered you as a mother figure. You contributed to all the daily chores, and in return, the boys taught you all about the wildlife on the island. Everyone had truly accepted you as an equal, all except Peter. For the first two weeks, you felt like you two had gotten a lot closer. You even thought maybe he liked you, as more than just friends. But this past week, he had been acting rude to all the Lost Boys and you, especially. But finally you had had enough.
It was a hot, muggy day and the forest seemed to radiate heat for all sides. You and a group of the Lost Boys were out gathering fruits and plants for camp. Some of the younger boys had grown tired and sluggish because of the heat.
“(Y/N), I’m tireeeedddd.”
“Can you please take a break?” said Oliver, one of the littlest boys at camp. He had golden brown hair and green eyes that could melt your heart. Especially when he used those eyes to get what he wanted. You knew Peter would be mad that you guys were taking a break, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. You all deserved a break in this heat. And you exactly where to take the boys to have lots of fun.
As you arrived to the shore, you realized that this was one of the best ideas you had ever had. The sunshine sparkled on the water, and the water seemed to call your name. You picked Oliver up and threw him over your shoulder. He giggled and cried out in happiness.
“I’m gonna throw you in the water!!” You started giggling and ran into the water. You dove head first into the water, not caring about the clothes. The water felt cold upon your skin, and the warmth left your body. As you popped your head back, you saw the other Lost Boys splashing and playing in the water. This was the greatest idea! You swam back to shore, and sat on one of the rocks close to the water so that you could keep your feet in. You watched as Steven built a sand castle in the sand with Steven and Sebastian, the twins. Those three were your favorite out of the group and you couldn’t imagine your life without them.
“(Y/N), come build with us!”
“Yeah!! Pleeeeeaaasssseee!” You smiled andstarted towards the two boys when suddenly you saw Peter flying for the beach. And he did not look happy.
“What the hell is going on here?! You are all supposed to be working!” The littlest boys cowered in fear, and Oliver and the twins tried to hide behind your back. No matter what Peter did, no matter how badly he treated you, you would not let him treat your boys harshly. “Do I need to remind you who the ruler of this island is?” Peter said, grinding his teeth into a nasty grin.
“Peter, don’t hurt the Lost Boys. It was all my idea.”
“You stupid girl!” You grimaced when he called you stupid, but you couldn’t falter. Not in front of the boys.
“I know that we were supposed to be working. But Oliver and some of the other boys were tired and couldn’t stand the heat. We needed a break.” You attempted to protect the rest of the boys with your body, though it was no use. If Peter had his mind set, he would stop at nothing. Peter Pan never fails.
“Of course you did! Look at you!” He said, a look of distaste in his eyes. As you eyed you up and down with disgust, you couldn’t take it anymore. The harassment, the torture, and certainly not him calling you fat. You couldn’t believe he would stoop to that level. As his eyes travelled up your body, he saw the pain and hurt in your eyes.
He regretted it. He regretted ever hurting you. Though Peter would never say it aloud, he had loved you since the day you had come to the island.
But what’s done is done. Before the tears could spill out of your eyes, you grabbed the little bit of pixie dust you had collected from the forest and sprinkled over you and the group of Lost Boys. In your head, you wished to be transported back to camp, and in a blink of an eye, you were there.
You let the Lost Boys run off and play in their tents. You just needed time to yourself, time to let out all the anger and sadness that you felt. But not in front of the boys. And certainly not in front of Oliver and the twins.
As you packed up some food and water, you said goodbye to Oliver and the twins.
“You’re coming back, right (Y/N)?”
“Please don’t leave us. We love you,” said the twins, almost in tears. you gave them each a big hug.
“Of course. I’ll be back before you wake up. Now go play.” The twins tottered off, going to join the other boys in a game. “And as for you Oliver, I promise I will come back.” You couldn’t bear to leave him, but you needed to be alone.
“Ok. I love you (Y/N).”
“I love you too Ollie” you said, kissing his little forehead.
Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed part two! I had such positivity for part one to make a part two. I plan on continuing to finish this little series, so if you guys like it, be sure to let me know! xoxoxo -Taylor
“My soul is melted away, inwoven within the Veil.
Hast thou again knitted the Veil of Vala, which I for thee
Pitying rent in ancient times. I see it whole and more
Perfect: and shining with beauty!” - William Blake
The Veil, that gossamer mist that lifts periodically on both seasonal and ritual waves. That separates us from the beyond like some theatrical skrim of altered focus. Over the millennia evolution and cultural norms have shifted the boundaries of our regular awareness of reality, that spectrum of light and touch, smell and sound that defines the state we call real.
Is the Veil simply a cultural construct that helps mankind block out the reality of the beyond in order to more efficiently deal with the world of the mundane? Or is it an evolutionary trait that has pushed us toward a role as nature’s cancer, oblivious destructor of our host as the control agent of life’s very evolutionary path?
In the evolution of mankind the perception of reality has changed, shifting focus dramatically, specifically in the last five centuries. In particular the modern world has poisoned our sense of smell. Filling it with artificial scents and chemical deodorants that numb our noses. Train us that sweet smells are always pleasing and amplifying our abhorrence of bodily odor, sweat, muck and dust. Codifying our mistrust of mold and fungus. The deadening of our senses giving rise to a laser like focus on mass consumption.
The diminished power of our sense of smell plays a major role in reinforcing the accepted paradigm of modern existence. By limiting the input through our noses, a system so fined tuned it is believed to function at the quantum level, we are capable of being packed into ever increasing population densities without a spike in violence. By deadening our sense of smell we become unaware of the world around us the way a cat or a dog is. A dataset of live feedback that gives us information about that which we can not see nor hear removed out of technological necessity.
In the same way our nostrils are being censored our ears have been trained to recognize only specific frequencies as positive. When I was at Uni I found an old black acoustic guitar that someone had abandoned when moving out dumped on the street in a pile of rubbish. It had a straight neck but a hole smashed in it’s body. I took it home, never having owned a musical instrument, and fixed its body with some glue and strung it with what I had on hand, some steel bailing and copper wire. It made a resonate sound I found pleasing but my roommates complained that it sounded awful and “wasn’t in tune.” I understood music, I took band in school, but what I didn’t understand was why it always had to be tuned to just these specific frequencies? What made people so angry about ‘out of tune’ instruments? Instruments like my battered black guitar that rang disharmony with every stroke?
Western society has been trained from birth, inundated by this dishonest and harmonically limited tuning system. Forbidden to a point of actual exile to those who disagree with the tuning of sound in a set of octaves that have existed formally only a few hundred years. Yet these octaves, these notes, dominate 90% of the music made, devouring all of the rest in their path to homogenize music.
We have learned through cultural conditioning not to recognize the inherent structures outside of those accepted in western society. Much in the way the western musical scale has come to dominate world music the Western perception of reality in the post Victorian age is one that mixes science and fantasy with a dash of “I have no fucking idea” societal doubt. A self flagellating genuflection to the hallowed halls of science, those ivory towers gleaming in the sun, surrounded by an aura of smog and historic levels of carbon. A Platonic goatse of celestial proportions western society’s idea of what is real is a revulsion of the past driven by a quest for absolute “truth.” But my readers will know very well - There is no truth.
In the modern world the belief in spirits is no longer considered a rational behavior. Classified as a mental disorder spirit communication is more often dealt with as a form of fraud. The dominance of Abrahamic organized religions and their stance against anything other than the fictional monotheism, with neopagan cheerleaders in the stands waving on the continuation of dogma and the lie that is deism.
We have tuned out that which is no longer accepted in society. Mankind’s approach to the beyond in the modern world is one of novelty. Rare are those who move away from the madness of crowds and shed the box of urban living. Those to whom the world beyond the narrative of consensual reality blooms in liminal manifestation, a sea of subtle energy beholding an ecosystem of entities as complex as that of the mundane.
The veil is a social construct that binds us to consensual reality. Shaped by our languages and define by societal norms it has changed in shape and proportion considerably in the past several centuries. As the age of rationalism came upon us western society moved its interest in the realms of the beyond to that of parlor trick and novelty. The veil became a codified way in which to put humanity on the same page in terms of our ability to function as a society by eliminating our conflicting spirit systems, by modifying our behavior from the youngest age so that we edit out the knowing that we are born with. Much the way the mind edits out the reverb the ears hear and the light and dark the eyes see, providing continuity in order to advantage survival.
The people of previous centuries were more in tune with the sensitive patterns of the natural world. A mere 500 years ago the wind told a story that most people could hear, the trees sung a song that made children dane, all in their electromagnetic resonances and defined by the precision with which mankind could perceive those frequencies.
To those who cross through the Veil the world is more than society would have you believe. It is more than that fiction of monorealism. More than that consensual corporeality that validates only consumption and reproduction.
Thus the Veil stands between us and the beyond, to diminish its strength means to push back against centuries of accepted norms. To deny that which has been implanted in us since first our parents banished our imaginary friends and swept away our pixie dust collections. To burn brightly with a light and not be crushed against the wave of rationalism that threatens to limit further the perceptual experience from the mind of humankind.
I am experiencing one of those slightly cool and cloudy days when I am able to think ‘WINTER’ during this scorching Sydney summer heat! 🔥 Those are the days I’m inspired to craft and photograph the winter warmers I make for my customers who are currently in cooler climates around the globe…
Currently, local Australian Aboriginal prints like the one I used to make this snood, also give me tons of inspiration… I love travel. I love fabric : : : : :
You can shop for this print and others I collect during my travels Here .:.
Before filming today’s tutorial I couldn’t resist taking a quick photo of these beauties in front of my ring light!
I ordered these via Boots online and I couldn’t wait for the email to say they were ready to be collected! I picked them up 2 days ago & I used them for the first time today.
There has been a lot of mixed reviews on the price of these brushes due to the jump in cost from the previous set by Real Techniques & Pixiwoo. But as the girls explained in their recent video on their channel, this new Bold Metals Collection is a premium brush set aimed at professionals as well as makeup lovers. And as the girls have such a huge following, there would be a mammoth amount of disappointed fans if the new line was only available in a premium cosmetic outlet. So it seemed the logical thing to do to make sure the brushes were accessible to everyone was to keep the sets in the high street!
I adored the original line from the girls, so to say I was excited about the launch of the Bold Metals Collection is an understatement! And I’m most definitely not disappointed. Where most brush brands fall short for me is the tautness of bristles. For instance the Pointed Crease brush from this range is p-e-r-f-e-c-t!!! The very tip of the bristles where the point forms has the right stiffness, and the bristles around it are the ideal softness to blend out the surrounding shadow. Many others I’ve come across are too soft and the tip just sways back and forth with the rest of the hairs, which prevents it from doing what it’s meant to.
All the brushes are made from the softest synthetic hair, so they are completely animal cruelty free! Also, this means all the brushes can be used with both powder & cream products.
Another plus for me are the weighted handles. I’ve always used fully-leaded pencils for drawing, and found that having a little bit of weight to the pencil aided the process & the comfortability of drawing. And it’s the same with my makeup brushes. I think it’s all about balance.
There are 7 brushes in total within the range, but I didn’t purchase the angled liner as it’s the one type of brush I don’t really use or particularly like, not just from RT but from most brands. It’s just personal preference. I have 2 that I stick to if-and-when I do use them; a sable angled liner from Crown, and a synthetic one from Illamasqua (both used for brows) and as they say ‘if it’s not broke, don’t fix it’ but who knows, I may be persuaded to get it at a later date.
I love that the brushes are coloured differently according to their use. My favourite colour is the Rose Gold.
You can definitely tell these have been designed by professional makeup artists. They are a premium brush line that are 100% worth their price!
In the USA you can pick up the entire set in ULTA, and in the UK these are exclusive to Boots.