#working through my remaining reference pics...

You can upload a profile picture and you can either "show" or "hide" it and change the shape of it to a circle or square. Green circled is your profile pic. Profile pic sizes should be squared eg 500 x 500

Your Header image (red circled) should be in the size 1308 x 736 for best results, you can change sizes of images with an editing app i.e Medibang Paint or through the web. I personally like to make header images a gif + png so my background and accent colours (pink circled) are visible on my blog.

If your header image is just a photo (jpeg/png) there is an option to "stretch" your header image it basically widens it if you don't stretch your header i think your accent color will still be visible.

like this : the pink is the accent colour and the green is the background

For Your Accent and Background colours you can choose it based on the images you choose for your profile and header images,

you can be monochromatic or as i said choose based the images you're using for your blog but you can only choose two main colours.

Something to note is that you need to play around with your accent colour sometimes because it will not be visible on your blog sometimes like how the pink in the image above is, it just remains blank which mean it defaults to white.

You can add a description (purple circled) and titled (blue circled) to your blog.

If you like it can be anything, like your name or age or a quote or emojis.

The possibilities are endless or literally you can leave it blank (my personal preference) or Hide them! Also my personal preference!

But if you hide either your description / titled, automatically your asks button will not be visible on your profile, like mine currently is.

If your ask button (labelled ask page title) is visible you can go in your tumblr settings and edit it with emoji's or a sentence of your choice! you can do what ever you like with your ask page title.

eg : (orange circled)

𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

The second half of making an aesthetic blog is creating a pinned post. And what that means is utilizing dividers, gifs and images in the format of jpegs or pngs. There is a multitude of ways to edit your pinned post, endless possibilities to arrange images / text to create your unique pinned post.

Here is my pinned post for reference. ( I've made / edited all dividers on my pinned ) The apps I've used to create them are medibang paint, in collage and background eraser - found on Play Store.

I have yet to make a proper tutorial on how to make your own dividers but this hashtag #˖₊˚⊹ ⋆ 𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓽𝓾𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓼 is where you can find tutorials about my dividers.

i also have a divider blog that anyone can scroll through and use what i've made! : @annahasabighead

𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫.

𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬

The App Version of Tumblr

On the app version on tumblr you are very limited when it comes to posting.

You can only upload 10 images on a tumblr post

You can color code text/fonts/emojis on a tumblr post but you are limited to six (6) colours

For longer posts / fics it is good to add the "read more" link to shorten scrolling through posts on your blog / tumblr

here is what that looks like :

and for the web version

The Web Version of Tumblr

To do gradient text's like : ( My name is Anna ) You need to know 1. the website to use which is patorjk.com - the website i use

2. This website works with the text editor HTML and for easy copy and pasting you use a laptop or google/safari and have two tabs opened!

this is how you get "html"

i will link two video tutorials on how to colour code texts / emoji symbols like : ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ( ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊) and diffrent fonts like : 𝑴𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 (𝑴𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂) note you cannot input different font / certain emoji symbols in the text colour changing website because you end up with this : � ��� ��

link one for text

link two for emoji symbols

website for symbols

website for different fonts

How to change the date's of posts on tumblr

My pinned post and masterlist's, i have changed the dates on them to (July 8th 1997)

You can only change the dates and times on tumblr posts using the web version of tumblr

this is how you do that :

𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

You can merge three images / gifs together in three's like :

the preferred dimensions are 500 x 500 which makes them squared

another way you can stack images are in two's like :

the preferred dimensions for these are 700 x 500

Half a drink is all it takes for Eddie to shake his head, resigned. Grinning awfully much for a man walking to the gallows of a billiards corner. Pulling you close by the hand, leading the way through the midnight patron crowd and reaching for a green-hilted cue stick. 

I don’t play dirty, darlin’. You best do the same or you’ll have to find a way to make it up to me. 

You love when he puts on a show for no one but you. Draws his words out honey-thick and sweet, accentuates his southern, gives a cowboy-sized wink as he twists the chalking square in fluid circles. 

He hands you the rack, nods to the table scattered with cue balls. Bar lights in neon pink and orange as he grins, black curls coming loose from his shoddy tie-up job from earlier. 

You’re making the lady do all the work? Not very gentlemanly of you. 

It’s difficult just trying to stay upright, let alone stabilizing yourself while you lean and catch at all the finicky spheres that seem intent on rolling from you just as fast as being wrangled. 

Eddie watches from the corner, one boot affixed to the wall, arms crossed. A man who looks for all the world like he should have a smoldering cigarette between that plush smirk.

The point ain’t to make you work for it, baby- the point is to watch you bend over. 

A flush of heat rises from the soles of your sneakers, cracks through you like lightning as you turn to glare over your shoulder. 

It’s half-hearted. He’s giving you what you asked for. 

Eddie pouts back at your sour expression, softening you like butter to a hot pan when he wraps himself around your back. Taking your hands in his and pulling the racked triangle towards the both of you.

You did these up real nice, sugar. Gonna show you how to break.

You can feel him everywhere. The firm pressure of his chin at your shoulder, the steady pulse of his heart against your spine. A thrilling hard line behind the zipper of his jeans, pressing into your low back as his breath coasts over your cheek. 

Easy does it, now. Breathe into the strike. 

He’s got your hands right where he wants them. You’re drunk on more than just the alcohol- drunk on his touch, his attention, the smell of him all cedar and woodsmoke and spice. 

The cue stick snaps forward, along with his hips. The balls clack and clatter and Eddie’s kissing up your neck, your fingers around the wood and felt going a bit numb as you arch back into his affection. 

Noticing how your eyes slightly widened, he figured he could've taken a better approach. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He apologized as sincerely as he could.

You had no idea what this man could have wanted from you. He was too polite to intend to rob you, what you had assumed at first.

"It's allright." You replied, still trying to remain cautious, even if the man's behavior didn't fit the outlaw archetype your father would often feed your brain with. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

What made you say it? You didn't know. You didn't have to engage in a conversation with this man. You could have excused yourself out of it, and walked back home.

"Just passing through," he admitted, "excuse my forwardness, but I had to approach you. You're very... captivating." He tipped his hat, adding, "Javier Escuella."

Having learnt his name, you then proceeded to introduce yourself, not forgetting to add that you're the pastor's daughter. It seemed like Javier was studying your name as if savoring the sound of it.

You felt the urge to look away, not used to the sort of attention he seemed to be giving you, but you didn't. After all, he was rather captivating, too.

"Well, miss, it was pleasure to meet you. Mind if I walk you home?"

You faltered for a second. A stranger, a drifter on top of that and possibly one of a questionable line of work, asking to walk you home did sound a bit suspicious.

But his tone seemed sincere to your inexperienced ears. So you agreed. "No, I don't mind."

And that was how your story began. It was simple, and kind of sweet. You started sneaking around behind your family's back, making up excuses for your delayed return home, sometimes even daring to sneak out at night just to meet with Javier. So romantic, right?

You haven't been acting like yourself, really, and your family was quick to figure it out. Your father, especially. You didn't know if he assumed, or knew for certain, but he accused you of seeing a man. Maybe your sneaking out just wasn't sneaky enough.

Whatever you had with Javier, wasn't as sweet and romantic in your family's eyes as it was in yours.

"He's not a bad man, daddy!" You exclaimed during one argument.

"Then how come hadn't he come to me first?" You father asked. "A good man always asks the father for permission!"

But this didn't speak to you. Of course, that's what a good man does, but Javier was good to you regardless. To other people, however... well, he told you about the gang, what they do. Maybe what they were doing wasn't morally right, but the idea they did it all for was not that senseless. Stealing from the rich, giving to the poor (such as themselves, too). Almost noble, wasn't it?

In the evenings you met, Javier would talk about the injustices he had seen, the rich and powerful who lived untouched by the struggles of the less fortunate ones. And he spoke about Mexico a lot, too.

"Porfirio Díaz," he'd scoff, "he talks about order and progress like he's some saint sent to save us, but who's he saving? Not the people. It's all about the men with deep pockets, the hacendados who sit on their wealth while the rest of us scrape by."

Your eyes would widen, as you had always been unaware of what was happening outside of your little town, especially in foreign countries miles away.

"I had no idea it could get that bad." You'd mutter, as if trying to apologize for the actions of the bad people.

"It did get really bad," Javier would confirm, "in the mines and plantations, people work themselves to death. And the campesinos who once owned their own land, Díaz has stripped them of it all. Forced them into a kind of slavery, with debts they'll never pay."

"What about your family?"

He went silent for a longer moment everytime you'd ask about his family. Not that he didn't like talking about them. He loved them, cared about them. But talking about them could lead him to revealing a bit too much about his past, which he didn't want to happen just yet.

"I don't know, I haven't heard from them since I left." Was all he'd say, and then change the topic. "It's not that different here. Those in power look down on everyone else, like they're entitled to all the best things. Same sort of greed, the same control."

Many times you wanted to ask him why won't he go back there, the question lingering in your mind. At some point you thought maybe he just didn't want to, but why would he care if he thought America was the same?

And one time, he answered the question without you even having to ask about it. "Maybe one day this will all end and I will have a place to return to. But until then, I try to survive here with the gang, making our own justice."

You felt so attracted to his words. There was a thrill to being with someone so different, someone who believed in something beyond the rules you had grown up with. Your father's words still haunted you, though.

You knew how disappointed your father was, and that weighted on your chest like a big rock. Not like the guilt would ever stop you from continuing to sneak out.

One night when you sneaked out to meet Javier, he took you on a ride on Boaz. You two rode off to some secluded spot in a forest, stopped just by the river.

"My daddy thinks you're no good for me," you decided to confess, sitting down on the grass, "he always told me men like you are bad."

"Bad? Why bad?" Javier asked, sitting down next to you. He knew the answer, and he knew your father was right.

"You... you shoot people, you steal from people, these are sins," you paused, and Javier could see you were figuring it out on your own, "but I know you do this for a good cause."

Javier leaned back, propping his arms behind him. He was aware of the sins he commits, but he knew God forgives him every time. Every man he killed or stole from, he did it in good faith, after all.

You fiddled with a blade of grass, staring down at your hands. "But... don't you fear for your soul?"

Javier replied confidently, "I believe God knows my heart. I think... I hope that God understands."

Your whole life your father had taught you about God, sin and salvation, about the strict path that must be followed without deviation. And, knowing that Javier was a catholic, you thought he'd see it in the same way. But somehow, his beliefs seemed more open, laid back, even if catholicism was supposed to be the branch of christianity more strict than protestantism.

Sensing your uncertainity, Javier reached out, touching you gently. "I don't think God cares about rules as much as He cares about our intentions, mi corazón."

For a moment, you just looked at him, letting him wash you over like the water at your feet. There was something freeing in what he said. Something human and imperfect, but deeply tender. You wondered, for the first time, if there could be a world beyond rules and judgments that you were raised with.

You turned to look at Javier, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks as you abandoned the heavy thoughts that had clouded your mind. "What does mi corazón mean?"

Javier smirked. "It means my heart. Like calling someone darling in english."

Hearing him say it made your own heart quicken. You realized you'd never felt this way with anyone before. As his fingers traced gentle circles on the back of your hand, the touch alone was enough to set aside every doubt you could've had. Javier looked at you with a softness that broke through every barrier, his gaze holding yours like a prayer.

"Is that what I am to you?" You asked, the nickname he used for you making it feel like a promise of eternal love. "You heart?"

"Sí, eres mi corazón." He answered, pulling you closer, and even though you didn't know any spanish, you understood his words well.

And then you allowed him to kiss you, but it didn't stop on that. His actions went further, his movements careful as if afraid of breaking some unspoken vow between the two of you.

You let him guide you our of your clothes, feeling some kind of holiness in his touch, as if he wanted to worship like a deity. Soon after that, he removed each piece of his own clothing too, so that there were no barriers between you.

You'd be lying if you were to state you weren't scared. But the desire you felt was stronger than your fears, even if you've never been with a man like this before.

You were a virgin.

He had you underneath himself, one of his hands supporting his body above yours, while the other gently cupped your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his.

"Don't be afraid, mi corazón, I won't hurt you." He murmured.

"Not what I worry about," you replied, "what if..." you hesitated, feeling the weight of a lifetime's worth of sermons, prayers, and your father's preaching pressing down on you. "What if I'll be condemned to hell for this? For wanting you, for...us?"

"Do you really think a God who made us so full of love would punish you for feeling it, corazón?"

He was right, you knew that. So you did something you hadn't expected yourself to do. Placing your hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him in to kiss him.

At the same time, you felt a new sensation, one so unfamiliar to your body, but one that felt so good. You couldn't help, but gasp as you felt Javier filling you up with his dick. He did it slowly, almost tentatively, as if handling something sacred. Every inch he pushed into you was like an offering for your holy self.

And to him, each sigh, each moan you gave in return was an absolution to his sinful soul. Your bodies fit perfectly together like two hands holding the same rosary.

As your head fell back, the words slipped from your lips, "Oh, God." Both sacred and sinful at the same time, both cursing you for the rest of your life, and sending you straight to Heaven in Javier's embrace.

Javier kissed these words off your lips, his hips never stopping snapping into yours, and the wetter you got, the more rapidly he could fuck into you.

The act got you wondering, why is it considered so sinful when it gives so much pleasure. You were commiting a great sin, giving yourself to a man you weren't married to, but it felt godly. Maybe that was why it was so sinful - because it was indescribably blissful, so divine. Because it made the man seem like some kind of a deity in the moment, instead of the God in the sky directly above.

If you were going to get punished for this, you didn't mind. You didn't care. You could do this a thousand times over and over again.

"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna–" Javier said, feeling himself approaching closer to the edge.

For some reason, despite this being your first time, you knew exactly what his words meant. And despite everything that could happen after this, despite all the possible consequences, you once again said something you didn't expect yourself to say.

"Don't pull out," the words left your mouth almost instinctively, "I want you to fill me up."

Every part of you wanted to feel it, to take all of him without hesitation. He did as you asked, filling you up as he reached his high. You felt warmth spread over your body, starting from the center of your abdomen, reaching every place of your body like a strike of lightning, and feeling his release shoot into you made it even more intense.

You were breathless, and Javier stayed buried inside you for a moment longer after the both of you were finished, his cock like a cork stopping his seed from spilling out from your sacret grove.

So with portraits especially, I find it helpful for myself not to do any lineart actually! I do a rough sketch beforehand especially if it’s a commission, so that they can see what I was thinking of doing and also so I get a rough idea of proportions et cetera. But the sketch is a separate file from the rendered portrait and used as a reference rather than as a part of the drawing itself.

But for the main painting I always think the best way to get “oil painting vibes” for portraits especially is to work in a similar way to physical oils. So I actually do my main ‘building’ on a single layer, using large flat brushes to block out shapes, and then working with consecutively smaller rough/flat brushes and “carving out” features, for lack of a better term, adding extra colours only if they’re necessary to carve said features out. And once I get to a set of features I’m comfortable with, only then do I add extra layers for things like hair detailing/freckles/jewelry etc.

So each portrait at the single layer stage takes as many full passes as required. If I was doing something in a semi realistic style, it would involve around 3-4 rounds of “carving” and if it’s a more detailed realistic one, it would take 5-6 full passes with rough brushes before I start adding extra layers and blending with a “dry” brush.

I hope this makes sense but it it doesn’t, here’s something currently just approaching the end of the single layer stage so you can see the steps (obviously still very much a WIP lmao at this stage bro looks like that fucking crow boy who eats plastic or whatever).

Aaand for the tips I mentioned, again please remember I am very far from a professional so this might all just be hogwash, it’s just what I personally find helpful to remember especially re: lighting! 😅

— helps to think of light less as an on/off switch and more as a physical presence moving through space/material. So like flesh especially doesn’t just receive light, it absorbs/scatters/leaks it back etc. Ie the shadow or ‘dark’ side of a face is rarely dead; it’s usually warm, slightly polluted by blood/fabric/the lighting in the room itself. So if my shadows look too clean, I always feel they’re not interacting enough with the environment, so I like to muddy/dirty them

— smth that tends to separate convincing lighting from accurate lighting is value discipline ie even when the light logic is sound, portraits can flatten if everything gets equal attention. Decide early where the value range is allowed to stretch and where it’s compressed and don’t be afraid to ‘narrow’ the value spectrum especially when it comes to realism, the eye can easily read authority in what’s withheld

— skin almost always looks better when it’s being modelled by temperature shifts rather than value jumps. light areas on skin are often cooler than they appear, especially under neutral or north light, while shadows carry warmth from the subsurface scattering and bounce and muddying. same with reflected light, ie a shirt, a wall, the ground etc can all rewrite your colour decisions if you let them.

— so this may be a biased tip because i am a glutton for a soft edge, but edge control carries a lot of the lighting read and can be played with a lot. ie hard edges don’t automatically mean realism, and soft edges aren’t just for atmosphere, strong light can bloom and soften edges; raking light can carve sharper ones. my favourite are lost edges, ie when a shadow matches the background closely enough to disappear.

— a big pitfall is over-defining the features too early, ie rendering eyes, lips, or nostrils before the head is behaving as a solid object in space. and when you do this and something feels off later, it’s tempting to keep adjusting the feature itself, when the problem is usually the surrounding planes or environment. eg if a likeness won’t lock in, step back and look at the cheek, brow ridge, or jaw angle etc because that’s where the error usually lives. actually, this is the exact reason why i don’t like doing ‘lineart’ for portraits because it feels like ‘locking in’ and thus having less room for features to shift across the painting process.

— watch out for local colour loyalty. a lot of the time, skin colour isn’t something you preserve but something you should negotiate. Hanging onto a “correct” skin tone often flattens form. Let skin go green, violet, grey, or red if the lighting and environment calls for it, it’ll still read as skin if the relationships are right.

Rangiku elbowed her raven-haired friend and grinned. “Shūhei, you know how you’re always whining about not having a date to your newspaper’s dorky formal?” 

Shūhei rolled his eyes and Izuru smirked. “I don’t whine, Rangiku. But, why are talking about the Communication’s formal?”

“I think I found someone you can take this year that isn’t me! They’re super sweet, they like reading, and they’re really cute. They also like music, which means they’re probably into moody guys that are bad at guitar…It’s a perfect fit!”

“Just constantly insulting me, some friend you are,” Shūhei grumbled. “And I’m not bad at guitar.”

“Shū, our dorm floor made a petition so you’d stop playing there and practice in the arts building,” Izuru stated, looking over his shoulder. “It got the entire floor’s signatures, including our RA. And wasn’t our RA Kensei?” 

“Don’t remind me. He’ll never let me live that down.”

“Anyways,” Rangiku continued, “I showed them your Insta and told them about the dorky formal next week–”

“Not dorky–”

“And they want to meet you!” Rangiku playfully punched his arm and grinned. “They said you were cute. They liked that post you made with the progress pics, the one with the slutty little tank top and shorts that Kensei and Shinji made fun of.”

“You made sure to tell them Kensei wasn't Shū, right?” Izuru chimed in. 

Rangiku nodded and Shūhei crossed his arms. “Enough. Tell them to forget it. Let’s just go together like we planned and we can drink with Shinji and Kira, and maybe Kensei if we’re lucky.”

“Well, I already gave them my ticket and told them you don’t like the color yellow, that you despise plaid, and the semi-formal dress code.” Rangiku shrugged. “Whoopsie!”

Izuru and Shūhei’s jaws dropped. The blond shook his head and muttered under his breath, turning back to the shelf he’d been combing through. Shūhei groaned and slid down to sit on the floor. He looked up at his meddling friend and sighed, absolutely exasperated with her antics.

“Well, at least show me what they look like.”

She whipped out her phone and smirked. “Trust me, Shū, you’re gonna like ‘em.”

Shūhei took her phone and held his breath. The person on the screen was incredibly attractive, and he scrolled through their profile, tapping on a picture of them at a wedding from the summer. He lingered on the set of pictures, swiping through them and blushing. They looked stunning, their outfit perfectly suited to their features and making sure they were highlighted. Shūhei had to admit he was excited about the prospect of having this person accompany him to the formal, and he certainly wouldn't mind if they wore that outfit again.

He looked up and jumped at the sight of Rangiku and Izuru peering down at him expectantly.

“Well?” she asked.

“Fuck it.” Shūhei shrugged. “I guess I’ll see them next Saturday.”

Izuru and Rangiku shared a quiet smile and Shūhei got back on his feet, the hunt for paper references suddenly secondary to thoughts of what he’d wear to the formal.

One week later, Izuru and Shūhei arrived at the building hosting the formal, overly punctual as always. In a hallway off the lobby, Shūhei rocked up and down, dress shoes rhythmically tapping the marble floor; Izuru kept tabs on Rangiku, his phone buzzing with her sporadic updates. After what felt like eons, he elbowed Shūhei and waved his phone.

“Rangiku said their uber just pulled up,” Izuru shoved his phone back in his pocket. He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You okay?”

Shūhei nodded stiffly and adjusted his jacket. He’d gone with a black suit and white shirt, the safest choice since he had no clue what his blind date would be wearing. Less is more, anyways. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind his choker; Rangiku insisted he wear it and unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt. A tasteful little peek of what’s underneath, she’d texted him. Easy for her to say–he felt exposed.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Why did I agree to this,” Shūhei groaned, pinching his forehead. 

“Because it’s good to step out of your comfort zone.”

Shūhei snapped his head to glare at Izuru. “That’s rich coming from you.”

The blond shrugged and started walking towards the lobby, glancing back every few steps to make sure his friend followed. Shūhei hated to admit it, but he was right. Deadlines, the predictable chaos of the newsroom, the same schedule every week, and the regular frequency of the same outings with the same friends were all constants, but maybe the familiarity and safety it all offered dulled his spirit. He reminded himself that if this mystery date sucked, he wouldn’t see them again after tonight, so it’s not like he’d be doomed to see them for the rest of the semester. Unless they had a class together next semester…

The lobby doors opening and Rangiku shouting yanked him out of his anxious spiral before it could get any worse. Shūhei looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of his mystery date, shyly walking next to Rangiku, then shuffling when the excited woman tugged their wrist to hurry them along. 

Their outfit hit their body in all the right places, its color working in perfect harmony with every detail and hem, accessories catching his eye. Shūhei went weak in the knees and his mouth dried up and his heart started pounding and his mind raced–fuck, he might faint or collapse–until they were right in front of him, their perfume gently grabbing his attention, their name bouncing around in his head after Rangiku loudly introduced them.

“Hi, Shūhei,” they said, eyes flitting between his and the floor. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I–yeah, yeah, same.” He cleared his throat and did his best to smile at them and fight back a blush. 

“Well, let’s get going! Nanao saved us seats, and I wanna see if Yumichika showed up.” Rangiku looped her arm through Izuru’s, hair bouncing and black dress flowing behind her.

Shūhei and his date trailed behind them, awkwardly smiling at each other and uncertain of if they should match the energy of the chattering pair in front of them. He grew more anxious as they approached the modest ballroom used for their formal, palms starting to sweat. A glance from Izuru gave Shūhei the courage to hover a hand on his date’s low back, careful to avoid full contact, gently guiding them over to the table where a few of his friends sat waiting for their group. His date startled at his light touch, then hastily nodded at him in reassurance. 

Only when he saw Rangiku looking back at them with an exaggerated dreamy expression did his cheeks and ears go red. Nanao, the Communication’s news editor, crossed her arms and looked away. The art editor, Shinji raised an eyebrow, blond bob swaying when he tilted his head. 

They finally sat down, Shūhei’s date sandwiched between him and Nanao, Rangiku on Nanao’s left. Izuru plopped next to him and elbowed him, then gave him a soft, yet smug, smile–Izuru’s signature silent told you so. 

The rest of the evening went well, much to Shūhei’s surprise. Conversation between him and his stunning date flowed easily after the initial awkwardness wore off, buffered by the people around them. Rangiku and Kira managed to rope the uptight sports editor, Kensei into having a few drinks. Much to Shūhei’s dismay, Kensei became just tipsy enough to loudly recount the dorm petition story to not only his date, but the entire table. However, the sound of his date’s laugh and the way their hands lingered on his forearm obliterated the humiliation bubbling beneath his skin. Shinji and Yumichika made sure to over-explain everything related to the newsroom after his date admitted Diane Sawyer and All the President’s Men was the extent of their knowledge about journalism. 

At one point, Nanao gave Shūhei side-eye and subtly lifted her shoulder and flicked her eyes between him and his date. She bit back a groan when he raised an eyebrow, then hissed at him to put his arm around their shoulders when his date leaned forward to hear and then laugh at Shinji’s mumbled insult to Kensei about the sports section. When they sat back in their seat, Shūhei gingerly put his arm around their shoulders, looking to Nanao briefly for approval–and smiling when he got a quick nod. His smile stayed put when his date turned to look at him with wide eyes and a shy chuckle. They were flustered, but they retaliated in kind by leaning into his side just enough for him to notice, smirking when he cleared his throat and blushed.

When the dance floor opened up, he and his date lingered at the table, laughing together when Kensei tried to dance and just looked like a fish out of water.

“Shūhei,” they scooted back to look at him. “I’m having a great time tonight.”

“Me too,” he nodded. He immediately kicked himself for the lame response and added, “You, uh, you look really good–I mean, great, not good. Definitely great, really great.” Smooth.

They giggled. “Rangiku told me you’d be a nervous wreck, and she was right. I think it’s super cute, and you’re super cute, even if you suck at guitar.”

He groaned and let his head fall back, rolling it back up and pouting at them. “I’m way better now!”

“Just means you’ll have to play for me sometime. Part of journalism is making sure you have all sides of a story, right? Consider this my request for your comment in response to Kensei’s statements."

Shūhei had never been more smitten before in his life.

He grinned at them with hearts in his eyes. “It’s a date, babe.”