somnophilia (with or without consent you choose) with aventurine or sunday...
alright 👍🏻 i'm going with aventurine for this one, since his banner is tmrw yippee :3 may all avennie wanters become avennie havers ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
nsfw, consensual somnophilia, afab!reader, reader wears nightgown, fingering, spooning fucking (i have no idea what it's called (u_u)), established relationship, petnames used: darling, baby, sweetheart, little bunny.
"...my love?"
rubbing his tired eyes to prevent them from closing, aventurine enters your shared house together—only to find you asleep on the couch, filling the otherwise quiet living room with the soft rumble of your snores.
his lips slowly curl up to form a faint smile, little hearts dancing across his beautiful pupils as he steps closer to you, getting a good look at the way the silk gown highlights your curves—all the stress he accumulated from working instantly disappears into thin air the moment he came home to this, like something served only for him in a silver platter.
"you'll catch a cold..." he sighs, stepping closer to take you back inside your shared bedroom—while his eyes gawk at your body, glancing at your chest and legs, before he looks away and try not to act on his desire; you have said that it is fine for him to relief his stress by using you, even in an unconscious state—still, he'd rather not disturb your beauty sleep. slowly, he places you down on to the mattress and kissed your forehead, wishing you a good night's sleep before he stood up, attempting to leave and change his clothes first.
that is, until you decided to roll over, causing your dress to hikes up your thighs, revealing the skimpy and lacy panties underneath—aeons, how could you possibly be any more alluring? he wouldn't be able to hold back himself if this persists.
aventurine gently pushes the silky fabric further up, finally caving in, "'m sorry..." he murmurs, his gloved fingers slowly making their way inside your puffy folds, stimulating the sensitive nerves and getting surprised when he hears the squelching noises, already so loud when he barely does anything—he's starting to suspect that you may have been thinking of him a lot... probably not in an innocent way too (neither did he).
"are you dreaming of me, baby?" his lips curl up to form a small smirk, pumping his digits in and out of you faster, drawing out that little whines of yours that he loves so much, taking them as a sign to continue. he knew very well how skilled his fingers are, after all.
and continue, he did—laying down right behind you, slotting his erection between your thighs as the blunt head slowly slides into your tight little pussy, sucking him in so nicely as if this is the last time you can feel it. you're still so responsive, he thinks, groaning whenever you unconsciously push your ass against him, meeting his thrust while also arching your back.
the blond man tries to be as quiet as possible, burying his face into your nape and trailing kisses down your back with his arms settled on your hips to help him reach deeper and deeper, until his tip finally touches that one gummy spot—one that always makes you moan louder and beg him for more.
"fuck—i'm gonna cum, darling... ah—you're always so good for me..." he stammers, hips stuttering as the slapping noises intensifies, bouncing off the walls along with your soft mewls and his ragged breath.
it doesn't take long before the knot in your stomach snaps, your walls pulsating around his dick before he soon follows, stuffing you full with hot and sticky ropes of cum—so full that some of it form a ring around the base when he attempts to pull out. it surprises him to see just how pent-up he's been, but a sudden whimper from you brought snap him back to reality.
"'venturine... more, please..." for a moment, he was stunned—are you awake? or are you simply dreaming of doing this with him? the thought of being in your mind 24/7 easily flusters him, making his still-erect cock twitch inside you.
well, as a good boyfriend, what else can he do except to fulfill his little bunny's wishes?
his thumb finds its way back to your swollen nub, rubbing patterns across the sensitive area before he shoves his shaft back in, "as you wish, sweetheart,"
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I’m on my knees begging for a jealous percy x fem!reader please 🙏🙏
:・゚✧:・゚ ALWAYS BEEN HERE (p.j.)
summary : in which percy and y/n din’t notice each other, even though they’ve always been there.
w.c. : about 1.5k
a/n : first writing in a few months! there’ll probably (definitely) be a part 2 for this but i just needed tk get smth out 😭
requests r still open!
wattpad: poet1cmystery
warning(s) : none!
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
percy shouldn’t care if you were flirting with another guy. even if that guy was taller, stronger, and older. he shouldn’t care. he really really shouldn’t. the two of you hated each other.
that being said, he couldn’t draw his eyes away from you and luke castellan’s bodies, so close you were practically touching. you laughed at every one of the older boy’s jokes, your lips rounding around your teeth and you smiled widely.
“gods, they’re all over each other,” the boy scoffed, looking to his best friend, tearing his stare away from the sight across the campfire flames.
grover, as unphased as ever, just shrugs. “yeah. have been for a couple weeks now,” he says, shoving a perfectly-roasted marshmallow into his mouth, “‘m happy for them. they seem to like each other.”
“yeah, a lot.” percy adds with a roll of his eyes.
“i don’t get it!” he continues, “why are they so out and the open about it?! that’s too much pda.”
he would act this way with anyone, right? yeah. you guys just shouldn’t be on top of each other like that.
“percy, they’re barely touching,” his satyr friend points out, his voice flat.
“so?- still! grover, you’re supposed to be on my side,” percy insisted.
“alright,” the overall passive boy supports, “i guess they’re kinda close, especially in public.”
“exactly!” percy agreed, enthusiastic while keeping his voice low.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
the next time percy saw you and luke together was at the arena. you and percy were sparring, your swords clashing together as sweat fell down the both of you.
suddenly, luke came into frame. he wasn’t in the way, or even in the main part where people would spar. he was sort of off to the sides, but close enough to distract percy.
you were able to pin the boy down, cheering in triumph and getting off of him.
he blinked, his brain catching up to what had just happened. he lay still on the dirt, looking up at you.
“dude, are you gonna get up?”
except it wasn’t your voice, it was luke’s.
luke stood over him, just mere inches away from where you were standing. why did you guys always have to be like that?
it was like the gods were trying to torture him.
luke wasn’t even a good person, not even close to good enough for you. you were sweet, and funny, and you always thought of others. maybe you weren’t that way withh percy, but he wasn’t blind.
“need a hand?” you asked, extending your arms towards him.
he grabbed it silently, pulling himself up.
his mouth opened to say something, to relieve himself of the thoughts swirling through his head. though, he didn’t get the chance to, considering luke came up to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
“c’mon,” the boy said, his tone slightly harsher than percy preferred.
that stayed with anyone. nobody should be talked to like that, even if he constantly butted heads with them.
surpising not only you, but his self aswell, he shot you an apologetic glance.
you just let it slide off, as if you hadn’t seen anything at all.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
later on that week, he saw you and luke arguing about something.
the two of you shouted at each other, words percy couldn’t pick up. luke was looking st you, a flame in his eye, as if he didn’t care at all.
percy knew you saw it to, because you held your hand up, then stormed off.
he couldn’t lie, he felt bad. you didn’t deserve that. you deserved someone better, someone who would care.
that clearly wasn’t luke.
should he comfort you? you looked upset.
he should atleast ask if you were alright.
so that’s what he did.
he slowly approached you, as if you would turn and get angry at him for doing so. you were turned away, your back facing him as you chewed anxiously on your nail.
“y/n?” he called out, standing a couple feet away from you.
you spun on your heel, your tear-brimmed eyes not going unnoticed by percy. he didn’t comment on it, wanting to at least let you have something.
“i uh, heard what happened. you alright?” the boy asked, his hand reaching up to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck, awaiting your response.
he watched as your facade changed, pulling your hand away from your lips sighing deeply.
“yeah, i guess. he was an asshole, so i mean, it was bound to happen,” you said, trying to assure you weren’t sad. your voice cracked as you spoke, something you tried to cover with a small laugh.
after years of arguing with you, percy had gotten used to all the small things about you. how you were when you were lying, when you were sad, angry, anything.
so, he said the first thing that came to mind.
“want a, uh, hug or something?”
that wasn’t weird, right?
of course not.
he was just comforting you. he’d do it with anyone, obviously. he wasn’t a monster. he wasn’t about to just let you stand there in yiur sadness.
you just nodded, hesitantly wrapping your arms around the boy’s neck.
the embrace was a stiff, but comforting nonetheless. it was good to know there was at least someone who believed you and din’t blame you for the split.
you knew in just a few hours time people would start asking luke what happened, and fall victim to his charm, just as you had.
percy waited until you pulled away first, not wanting you to feel like he was just doing this to do it. he truly didn’t mind holding you for longer, and over a few seconds he tightened his arms, making it feel more natural.
after a moment, you unraveled your arms from him, sending him a soft smile to accompany your soft words.
“thank you, percy.”
he took in your appearance, his eyes roaming all around your face. a small tear had made its’ way down your cheek, something that he didn’t fail to notice, but also didn’t want to comment on.
after all, you two weren’t close. what would he do if you started crying? he didn’t have time to think about it, as you turned and walked quickly towards your cabin, as if you had been itching to get away.
he saw you next at the campfire, a few days later. considering the amount of time that had passed, he just assumed that you were taking time to comprehend everything.
when you sat across the fire from him, you looked completely fine. as if nothing had happened.
your friends swarmed around you, their faces lighting up at the sight of you. percy assumed they hadn’t seen you either.
you laughed and chatted with the other half-bloods around you, but it all looked strained to percy. maybe he just wasn’t used to you smiling in any way except sarcastically, or the stuff with like was still hitting you hard.
luke.
percy’s mind roamed. what had you even seen in him? he couldn’t have been that funny. and he certainly wasn’t the nicest guy around.
was it his looks? percy asked himself. he knew luke was attractive, but that couldn’t be it.
his thoughts vanished as he heard someone say your name.
they seemed to do that now a days. he chalked it up to you going through rough time.
he heard your name again, and saw you sort of pretending you didn’t hear it. your conversation with your friends continued, not paying any mind to someone trying to get your attention.
rude, the boy thought, his previous feelings for you resurfacing.
his negativity towards you dissolved as he saw who was bidding for you.
luke.
why did everything revolve around luke?
he didn’t know why, but percy wanted to help you.
him and luke weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies. so, he approached the other boy, sparking up a conversation. he said everything he could think of, anything that would get luke off of your back.
as much as percy disliked you, he disliked seeing you cry even more. so, if he stopped someone from making you cry, it was a win-win.
he walked off with luke, looking back to see if anyone was looking at him and the other boy. when he did, he locked eyes with you, and noticed a small smile blooming from your lips.
he offered one back, then watched as you turned back to your friends.
maybe you guys weren’t so against each other anymore.
percy couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
percy jackson taglist: none, lmk if you’d like to be added!
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something I don't see talked about a lot in objectum spaces but people have agreed with me when I've brought it up is how difficult it is to draw objects in a way that feels true to its beauty and essence. At least without doing a 1:1 replication of an image. But I don't like doing art that way. My objectum artwork is a constant battle between trying to make art that's creative and enjoyable to me while keeping the same energy of the object I'm portraying in the piece.
I've gotten some (mean) criticism in the past for putting my anthropomorphic object drawings in the objectum tag but that's just the easiest way I can convey how an object makes me feel in artwork. It's hard to portray how much an object feels like its bursting with life and personality to me by just drawing the object as it is, as gorgeous as I might find the object in particular. Not because I don't find objects beautiful on their own I just really want to really show how the object makes me feel in the art I make. I consider myself a cartoonist first and foremost.
I will admit though, sometimes adding too much character to an object can make it lose its "objectness" and when it comes to a sexuality surronding objects that's, kinda important... For example a plane looks quite a lot different once you add a face to it:
(and I'd be lying if I said I didn't find the regular plane 100x more appealing than the disney one, despite there being relatively minimal changes)
At the same time though, I could happily draw regular planes, computers, cars and whatever all day with zero added features. I love them after all. But me and a lot of other people can really connect to an object seeing it portrayed more anthropomorphised. I've had a lot of people come to me saying that specific brand of my objectum art introduced them to object sexuality because it showed objects in a different light than say, a still life could to an uninformed observer.
Either way that being said, I put a lot of thought into making my object art appealing to objectum people as an objectum person myself, it's not going to be to everyone's taste because I'm not them. But I hope one day I can really find that perfect balance for myself of object and anthropomorhisation that doesn't take away from the regular object itself.
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Little Purple Stars
Ghost x FemReader x Soap
Content: Soulmate AU, fluff, no angst
Everyone had a soulmate; whether that connection was platonic or romantic was entirely up to those involved. Some people even had multiple soulmates, like you did, which wasn’t that uncommon. It happens whenever a person turns 20 yrs old. They are suddenly able to draw on themselves, and have the picture appear on the skin of your soulmate.
You had two soulmates; one of them rarely ever drew on themselves, and if they did it was only with a black pen. Usually said drawing would also be a little black heart next to something that you or your other soulmate drew. You’ve always called this soulmate, Moon.
On the other hand soulmate number two, or Sun as you called them, was much more open and was constantly drawing little doodles all over themselves.
Sun and Moon; basic maybe, but you’ve always felt that it fits them perfectly.
-
It was your third time entering the Olympics and you couldn’t be more excited. You’re first year you unfortunately didn’t place, second year you won the bronze, and this year you were aiming for the gold. Most of all though, win or lose you hoped that by the end of today you will have made contact with your soulmates.
While getting ready for today you had drawn little stars in various shades of purple around your eyes, making them resemble freckles. Drawing on your face was generally frowned upon, but when events that are going to be televised all around the world exceptions are made.
You tried to give them a hint to watch the Olympics today by drawing the Olympics rings and a TV, but realistically you knew there was no way they could watch the entirety of the broadcast. Even if they did turn it on they could very easily miss your appearance. The only thing you could do now was hope that the two individuals with matching purple stars were watching.
-
Ghost watched as every little star slowly appeared on Soap's face knowing that his face looked the same only that the stars on his face were covered by the mask. It wasn’t until Gaz walked in the office as well and asked about them did Soap even know they were there.
“What do you mean I have stars?”
“Yeah on your face,” Gaz pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo before showing it to the Scot.
“You knew they were there and you weren’t going to say anything?” Soap turns to face Ghost with a playful grin, “Well now you gotta take off the mask; I can’t be the only one walking around here with star freckles.”
“In your dreams MacTavish.”
Gaz chuckles at the two of them before he sits down in an empty seat, “So I know you didn’t do this,” pointing to Soap, “and you definitely didn’t do this. Can I ask why lucky number three decided to do this?” Directing his question towards the lieutenant.
“I assume it has something to do with the Olympics.”
“Aye, they drew that symbol yesterday didn’t they. I guess that was their way of giving us a warning for this; must be for some kind of watch party,” Soap guessed.
“Sounds like my kind of party, the ice skaters are performing in just a bit and I don’t plan to miss it.” Gaz holds his phone showing them the Olympic broadcast already up on his phone before popping in one of his earbuds.
“I didn’t take you for someone who would enjoy watching figure skating; all it is is watching people move on the ice innit?” Ghost questions, he’s never had any interest in the Olympics before. It was never something he had time to sit down and watch.
“We can go to an ice skating rink ourselves, and watch Soap try to skate if you want to watch more chaotic skating.”
“Oi, I didn’t even say anything, don’t go dragging me into this!”
“You were gonna say something and that’s enough for me!”
“Yeah yeah whatever,” Soap turns back to the paperwork he had been working on, “I’d like to see you try and skate. Let’s see who’s laughing then.”
The men chuckle to themselves and all of them focus on items in their hands. It wouldn’t be until an hour had passed that the silence amongst them was broken.
Gaz’s sudden gasp drew both Ghost and Soap’s attention to him.
“What happened mate; a skater fell down?” Ghost asks with slight amusement in his voice. He couldn’t imagine himself getting this worked up over anything as simple as ice skating. Continuing to watch as Gaz doesn’t say anything; simply sitting in his seat with his mouth slightly hung open.
“Gaz?” Soap questions as he steps towards him.
Very suddenly Gaz shoots up and steps towards him as well, grabbing Soap’s face once he is close enough. Holding up his phone and looking frantically between the two.
“Aye, wha’ the fuck do you think you’re doing!” Soap swats Gaz’s hand away from his face, “Didn’t your mum ever teach you about personal space.”
“Look!”
Soap focusing on Gaz’s phone to see what had the man so worked up. On the screen was a woman dressed in purple elegantly dancing on the ice, but what really caught his attention was the fact that she too had purple star freckles on her face; ones that matched his perfectly. “Oh fuck; Ghost!”
Ghost couldn’t believe what he was seeing for a moment. They had finally found their missing piece. Watching her dance and spin on ice he suddenly understood why people would enjoy watching this. She looks ethereal.
Looking at Soap he sees an awestruck look in his eyes. He won’t admit but the stars are quite cute on him; on both of them. How on earth did he end up with these two incredibly beautiful and talented people as his soulmates?
Later all three men are huddled together over the phone watching the award ceremony. The room had gotten embarrassingly loud when it became clear that you had won; Price had charged into the room asking them what had them all yelling for. He had luckily understood when the situation was explained by a sheepish soap, who was definitely making the most noise out of everyone. He was quick to get his energy back though once Price had left the room.
“We have to let the lass know we know we saw her!” Soap rushes to the desk pulling out multi colored pens; waving them towards Ghost.
-
You had done it! You had really done it; the gold was yours! Standing on the first place podium next to the other medalist you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmates are watching you. You hope they were proud of you if they had seen your performance.
Trying to subtly check any exposed skin for any kind of sign or acknowledgement that you had been seen, and to your great delight you had been. The sun and moon had found their star.
There on your wrist was a drawing of a gold medal and right next to it was a little black heart.
They had seen you, they knew who you were. That thought both excited and terrified you. The only thing to do now was wait for them to show themselves; to find you.
Stepping down from the podium, and making your way off the ice you give your wrist a kiss and wave towards the cameras.
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SOLIVAN X READER
“Wanna be your muse ...”
cw: none // not fully proofread
Scratch, scribble, scribble .....
Hm, that's not quite right.
Using the end of the pencil, you rubbed away at the paper— erasing the imperfections in your art.
You were completely distracted. Whatever your professor was saying, you didn't care. It's boring and you could probably just search it up the next time he gives you homework.
You yawned, looking down at your drawing. A blush crept to your cheeks as you realize you've been drawing him for the past few days.
Him— your partner and new friend, the guy whose existence you weren't even aware of until a few days ago, the one who went unnoticed by everyone and you despite him being in the same class as you. Solivan Brugmansia, or rather, Sol.
He's pretty darn cute. Despite his intimidating appearance — from the black clothing and that scary gaze he had — he was actually really sweet, and kind. At least to you.. and Hyugo. But he's softer towards you.
You've noticed the way he stared for longer than he should, lingering touches that shouldn't be there, his dark gaze whenever he sees you interacting with Crowe, or anyone else for that matter. He also seems to like you a lot. Perhaps too much, but you don't really mind. Not when he's been oh so generous to you.
You groaned. No, that doesn't look like him. Try again.
Right. After you became partners, you couldn't help but continue to draw him even if it was unrelated to the project you both worked on. At first, it was mere excuses — you told yourself 'It's just for practice'. It's totally not because he's so pretty you can't help but want to admire him! Sounds weird, doesn't it? That's why it's for practice.
Fuck it. He's so damn pretty.
But your memory sucked, and you need a reference. How though? It's not like you can just ask him for a selfie, that'd probably sound suspicious. Plus, you're in class right now, and you really want to finish this sketch.
You sucked in a breath. Surely one look will be enough. Just one quick look?
You purposefully dropped your eraser on the floor, pretending it was an accident. You took a moment before picking it up, and as you did, you subtly turned your head to where Sol was— though to your surprise, he was already looking at you. Your gaze locked with those vermillion eyes, your own ones widening slightly before you immediately sat back up with an embarrassed blush.
'Can't believe he was already looking..' You sighed. 'This is so embarrassing.'
At least you managed to get a look. You can already envision his image in your head. It wasn't long before you got back to sketching.
You finished after a while. A smile was brought to your face as you stared at your creation, proud.
You rested your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion. You closed your eyes, feeling tired. Just a few more minutes until..
...
Someone was shaking you awake. When did you fall asleep?
You raised your head from your desk, blinking sleepily.
"Sol..?" You mumbled.
"Morning, sleepyhead. You fell asleep." Sol's voice rung in your ear like a melody. You never realized how soothing his voice sounded, despite the teasing tone it held. You thought about how nice it'd be to hear it every morning.
"Did you get enough sleep last night? You look really tired." His tone switched to a concerned one, more like a doting mother.
"Yeah, just forgot to have my morning coffee." You grinned sheepishly, grabbing your things. "Thanks for waking me up."
He only gave a hum before a shy expression took over his features, a hint of blush blossoming on his cheeks.
He seems to be holding something in his hands before giving it to you. Is that your test paper? No, wait, is that the sketch you made earlier?!
"A-ah! Sorry-" You quickly took the paper from him (albeit rather aggressively), immediately shoving it into your bag as hot shame washed over you.
He chuckled which only served to stir your embarrassment even further.
"It's fine." He sucked in a breath. "You're really cute." He mumbled.
"What did you say?" You perked up, still trying to calm your racing heart. Why were you so flustered anyway?
"Nothing," He smiled shyly. "You know, if you ever need... references, you could always ask me. I don't mind.. I'd do anything for you after all." He whispered that last part to himself. You didn't even care - or notice it, you were too embarrassed.
Your eyes widened. Wait, was he serious? He's being for real?
Nonetheless, you couldn't bring yourself to deny because you probably would've never had the courage to ask. "Right, aha, I'll definitely take you up on that offer, thanks, uh.. bye!" You rushed out of your seat, the paper nearly crumpling in your hands.
Sol watched as you bolted away. He's completely aware of the way his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He couldn't help but grin. How could he not? You were thinking about him. That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter and yearn for more.
He smiled shakily, leaving the classroom after a while, thoughts filled with you as he walked through the hallways.
You're.. so cute. So damn cute.
———
a/n: this was supposed to come with three characters: sol, crowe and casper (date with death), but it's 4am and I'm not sure when im able to write for the other two since i have a busy schedule. i already have an idea though, just need to write it out :)
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Another much overdue ask compilation!
Some short-ish lore asks (Gale, Gort, DU drow relationships and pet-companion preferences) and a couple of art/advice ones sprinkled in. THIS IS BY NO MEANS ALL OF MY ASKS so as usual I appreciate everyone's patience!
I actually think he'd give them a pass entirely as soon as he noticed. Correct me if I'm mistaken but half-drow get No love from underdark drow and are usually surface babies right? So that fruit is miles away from the tree lol.
I think he generally has a bit of a soft spot for mixed kinds since he himself feels like an amalgamation of sorts.
Thank you! They're kind of a pain in the ass to draw at times for that very reason but man I do like the look 😩if other people like it too then that makes it all worth it!
THAT'S TRICKY TO ANSWER BECAUSE OFTEN TIMES I'M NOT... REALLY TRYING. I've draw a ton of horror comics for mine and my partner's series' SAD SACK and SORTIE, so I think it just comes naturally to me 😅 also I do genuinely find expressive and, uh, rugged faces more attractive? (I think they look rugged, again that's what people tell me at least.)
I think the secret might be adding bits of realism in there. I get a lot of comments about the wrinkles and eyelashes I add to my art, as well as the way I draw individual teeth (though I've lately been making an effort to simplify my style in favor of drawing faster, so I haven't done that as much or in as much detail.)
Both symmetry and the lack of it can also add to that effect. I have employed both facial unevenness and almost point-perfect symmetry to achieve something a little frightening or otherworldly in my work.
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]
Thank you so much!!! The contrast is very much intentional, that's what DU drow's character is all about ;)
Hahah well I somewhat doubt Bhaal would care that his spawn gets named, but either way he stripped himself of his name as soon as he killed his foster parents and abandoned the Underdark. He had a drow name that I jotted down somewhere but it's completely irrelevant because nobody has used it since he was a child, and he doesn't remember it (even pre-tadpole/having his brain scrambled.)
Here's a little write up about his origins that might shed some more light on that:
https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739688837431836672/did-drow-ever-have-a-childhood-before-the-temple
And about his original drow-given name and the reason behind it: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/741350986692591616/drow-had-to-have-been-given-a-name-by-his-adoptive
Everyone just referred to him as his supposed race, or as Bhaalspawn or Bhaal's child, and any other similar titles. Orin called him "kin" and "brother" and Gortash likely called him his associate. Post-tadpole the camp grows entirely used to calling him "the drow" and he has no desire to change that or to choose a proper name.
THANK YOU BOTH SO MUCH😭 no reason to be intimidated, I'm just some rando drawing BG3 fan art LOL
I've been drawing since I was a child, and started taking it semi-seriously when I was 16 years old, so twelve years ago! That's around the time where I got my first non-display tabled and used that well into my twenties, prior to that I only did stuff on paper and liked to do inks color with pencils. I never really ventured into traditional painting at all except for a little bit of water-coloring in college.
Traditional and Digital art are very much different beasts. Which one you want to start with is, in my opinion, just dependent on what you want to do. Digital art gives you a lot of tools that makes learning easier, but you might find yourself having much steeper of a learning curve if you ever decide to do traditional art instead. If you want to be good at both, you need to practice both, since the skill doesn't entirely translate from one medium to the other.
Naturally you will be able to draw well on either, it's just... Different. I will say though, that I think if you're still learning you should use whatever allows you to look directly at what your hand is doing, so either traditional or display tablet/Ipad. I have no idea what a non-display tablet would do to a beginner, but remembering my experience with it I feel like it might be a huge detriment to developing the skill (feel free to share your experiences in the replies if you disagree, as I would definitely be curious to read them!)
YOU KNOW ME BABY IT WAS MESSY AND COMPLICATED the tldr.: is that they were "buddies", absolutely no romance intended there on either mine or DU drow's part, but due to his nature the friendship was extremely weird.
Here's a couple of replies where I go into more detail about it:
https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/739191190871818240/i-dont-have-a-particular-question-in-mind-sorry
https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/744952815768764416/so-not-sure-if-youve-covered-this-but-i-thought
That's definitely reserved for the vamp LOL DU drow very much enjoys when Astarion teases and fusses over him, and while Astarion probably got a kick out of acting that way around such a big and scary looking guy at first, I think by "now" (later and post-game) he's pretty much immune to DU drow's looks and just enjoys doing it in earnest.
He's not at all averse to being touched (even rather intimately) by close friends, but he wouldn't be quite THAT vulnerable with anyone else.
HE REALLY DISLIKED GALE... He irked him out by seemingly fostering a rather persistent romantic interest in him for at least half the time they spent together (very much based on my interpretation of their in-game interactions at the time, though my Gale might have been a little bugged.)
But also they had a... Fairly in depth relationship still? Gale was a staple in my party, and even though I antagonized him constantly by the end of the game it still felt like they had so much weight in each other's lives, if that makes sense. I might need to do a bit of an "update" on the DU Drow/Gale lore sometime, I feel like I've had some thoughts since that warrant more exploration of their dynamic (you can find a lot of old asks about it if you just search the Gale Dekarios tag in my blog though).
The gist of it is that DU drow found him arrogant and duplicitous, his constant optimist irritated him to no end and felt like it veiled a stream of self-pity (two things DU drow despises) Gale's attempts to get through to him only added insult to injury. By the end of the game he decided to pursue the crown of Karsus and this only lost him even more respect in Drow's eyes, seeing as he doesn't value godly power at all.
I was pretty overwhelmed by the game at the start so I actually missed a lot LOL including Scratch. I did get the owlbear cub though, which DU drow gladly welcomed into camp since it was injured - but I think he would have wished for it to remain a wild animal and to return back to it's home after it had grown up a bit. He didn't really make a "pet" out of it more than he just looked after the little guy in the way it's mother might have, probably with Shadowheart's help.
He wouldn't be opposed to proper pets though if one were to stumble into his life. He'd definitely be more of a cat guy because of their independence and strong little attitudes.
It is very hard to build proper rapport with him. He will be "friendly" to most people who have a good sense of humor about them, but friendSHIP is another thing entirely.
I think it's kind of circumstantial. He's very economical in his relationships and doesn't really seek them out at all - so a situation where he's forced to be in someone's company might be the only way to develop a bond with him, as he doesn't appreciate insistence either and that's more likely to push him away. He doesn't value status or titles either (kind of looks down on them really) so that won't help.
I think he just likes people who are true to themselves and their nature, sometimes even if the nature is one he disagrees with at it's core. This is why he liked Gortash, why he and Shadowheart got along so well, and why him and Astarion fit together so seamlessly despite seeming so different. Likewise I think it's why he didn't jive with people like Gale or Wyll, because they seemed to be rather... Dishonest with themselves and their own end-goals.
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you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)
prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.
a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!
masterlist | spotify prompts series
“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”
you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.
“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”
“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”
you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.
“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.
you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.
“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.
“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.
“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.
“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.
“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?
“we can still make this work, can’t we?”
you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.
“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.
“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”
the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.
“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”
you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.
“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.
“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.
“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”
it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.
a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.
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Crossing Enemy Lines
Chapter Six
Luke Hughes x Original Character
November 18th, 2023
Luke stands in front of the mirror, in his bathroom, his fingers fidgeting with the collar of his crisp white button-down. He's paired it with a nice pair of black jeans, and his white sneakers, hoping to display a balance between dressed up and casual.
He glances at his phone, resting on the bathroom counter, for what feels like the hundredth time In the last hour. He checks the time: 6:47.
He knows he should probably leave by 7,if he wants to get her flowers-which he does-and still pick her up on time.
Luke takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his curls, trying to calm the nerves in his stomach. He's nervous for the date, he's also nervous because he's about to go on a date with Jacob Trouba's sister, a detail he has and will continue to keep hidden, at least until he can figure out what to do about it, but tonight, he just needs need to focus on the date, because all the other stuff, all the other stuff can wait.
He glances at his phone again, seeing only a minute has passed, he sighs wishing time would move faster, then the door to his room opens, and Jack strolls in, flopping down on Luke's bed with no knock, no warning.
"Sure just come on in" Luke sarcastically says.
Jack grins, folding his arms above his head "Aw, don't be like that Lukey. You know you love me."
As Luke walks away from the mirror, he rolls his eyes, but he's unable to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips "Did you need something? Or are you just here to annoy me?"
"Can't it be both?" Jack quips. His eyes land on his brother's outfit, and his grin widens "Big date tonight, huh?"
Luke nods, scanning his bedroom for his cologne. He spots it sitting on his dresser and grabs it, spritzing a little on his neck and wrists.
Jack sits up and looks at the bottle "Isn't that my cologne?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.
Luke shrugs, putting the bottle down. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law" He remarks as if he's playing a role in Law & Order, "You left it in my room, so now it's mine"
Jack scoffs, but there's no real heat behind it, there can't really be, considering half of his closet is in Luke's and vice versa "Whatever. I'm taking it back, when you leave"
Luke just smirks, knowing it's an empty threat, and turns back to the mirror, to adjust his hair one last time.
Jack watches him for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"What's the plan for tonight?" He asks, his tone softening
"I'm picking her up and we're going for dinner at uh Velvet & Vine" Luke answers
"Fancy" Jack jokes, before his tone shifts "You really like her?" He asks
Luke nods.
"So you gonna tell me who she is?" He questions, moving from his position on the bed, towards Luke.
Luke scoffs before sarcastically replying "Why? So you can go spill it to the rest of the team?"
A small sigh escapes Jack's lips, as a frown appears "Come on man, I was joking I didn't mean to upset you-I won't"
Luke cuts him off before he can continue, facing his brother "Jacky, I was just kidding, I'm not upset" he tells him.
Jack exhales, his frown disappearing "So who is she?" he asks
"I'm not upset, but I'm still not telling you" He says
"Oh come on man, I promise I won't tell the team" Jack swears, drawing an X over his left pec with his fingers, "Cross my heart"
"I know, dude, but I-I just wanna keep it to myself, it's our first real date and all you know?" Luke replies, hoping Jack doesn't question the slight crack in his voice.
"Ya ya I get it man" Jack assures, watching as Luke searches for his wallet and keys.
"I gotta get going," Luke says, after finding them.
Jack nods, and follows his brother as he walks out the bedroom door, and into the hallway of their shared apartment.
Luke takes one last look in the small mirror, hanging above their entry table, and takes a deep breath to steady his nerves.
Jack comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"You look great man, have fun tonight"
"Thanks Jack." Luke smiles.
Jack grins, giving him a gentle shove towards the door. "And make sure you're back before sunrise, Casanova. We've got practice tomorrow"
Luke rolls his eyes, a smile still present on his lips as he heads out the door.
He makes his way down to the parking garage, his heart pounding with anticipation as he climbs into his car.
Luke settles into his seat before pulling out his phone, and typing in the address of a nearby flower shop.
The drive to the shop is short, and Luke finds himself humming along to the radio, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the beat. He's never been the type to get nervous before dates, but something about Jordan feels different, special, in a way he can't quite put into words yet, he doesn't know if it's the mystery behind it, doing something he wants to do, doing something that he shouldn't be doing, or if it's just her...but he hopes it's just her.
Luke pulls into the parking lot of the shop, he exits the car and makes his way towards the entrance, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully as he steps inside.
The shop is small and cozy, filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.
Luke wanders the aisles, feeling a little out of his depth as he takes in the endless array of colors and varieties.
Luke's eyes scan the array of beautiful flowers, but he feels like something is missing.
As he's about to ask the florist for her opinion, a splash of vibrant blue catches his eye. Nestled among the roses, a single stem of forget-me-nots stands out, its delicate petals a striking contrast to the bold red blooms.
Luke reaches out, gently touching the tiny flowers, a smile tugging at his lips. They remind him of Jordan's eyes, of the way they sparkle when she laughs at his jokes or tells him about her day.
"What about these?" he asks, pointing to the forget-me-nots. "Could we add a few of these to the bouquet?"
The florist leans in, examining the flowers with a thoughtful expression. "Forget-me-nots? An unusual choice, but a lovely one. They symbolize true love and memories."
She looks up at Luke, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "She must be a special girl."
Luke feels his cheeks heat up, but he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Ya, ya she is"
The florist nods, a soft smile on her face. "Let's see what we can do."
She carefully selects a dozen of the most perfect red roses, arranging them in a classic bouquet. Then, with a delicate touch, she nestles a few sprigs of forget-me-nots among the blooms, their blue petals peeking out like little secrets.
"What do you think?," she asks, stepping back to admire her work.
Luke takes the flowers, cradling them gently in his arms. The mix of roses and forget-me-nots is striking, a perfect balance of classic romance and personal thoughtfulness.
"It's perfect," he says softly, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thank you."
The florist wraps the bouquet in tissue paper and ties it with a ribbon, handing it to Luke with a warm smile. "You're very welcome, dear. I hope your date goes wonderfully."
Luke pays for the flowers and makes his way back to the car.
He places the bouquet gently on the passenger seat, and glances at the little blue flowers that seem to wink at him from among the roses.
He smiles, before pulling out his phone, and typing out a text to Jordan.
I'm on my way. See you soon :)
*****
Jordan sits at her desk, in her comfy robe, putting the finishing touches on her slicked back ponytail-which took forever-and admiring her makeup, when her phone chimes.
Her heart skips a beat, as the four letters spelling out Luke appear on her screen, with the message I'm on my way. See you soon :)
A smile spreads across her face, and she quickly responds Can't wait :)
Jordan takes a deep breath, and sets her phone down, before walking towards her closet.
She rifles through hangers, pulling out various dresses, tops, and skirts.
She slips on a black mini dress with a straight neckline and spaghetti straps and turns towards the mirror, frowning slightly. It's a classic dress, it's too classic, there's nothing special about it, she's worn it a million times before, and it's just not right.
With a sigh, she tugs off the dress and tosses it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes on her floor.
Next, she pulls out a flowy floral sundress, thinking it might strike the right balance of dressy and casual.
But as she pulls it on and looks at her reflection, she realizes the colors wash her out, and it's too summery for November.
She groans, tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor.
Jordan continues trying on outfit after outfit, each one failing to meet her increasingly high standards. A pair of skinny jeans and a sparkly top seem too casual and too clubby, while a jumpsuit feels too trendy and not quite her style. She even considers a romper, but quickly dismisses it as too childish.
As the minutes tick by, her floor becomes increasingly covered in rejected clothing, and Jordan feels her frustration mounting.
She wants everything to be perfect for her date with Luke, including her outfit, and she knows it's just dinner, but it feels like so much more.
With another groan of exasperation, Jordan flops down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She's just about to give up and resign herself to wearing something mediocre when there's a soft knock at her door.
"Come in," Jordan says, sitting up.
Kelly enters the room, holding a black shopping bag.
"Having some trouble?" Kelly asks, glancing around at the clothes strewn across the room.
Jordan chuckles, "I have nothing to wear,"
"I can see that" she jokes, but her tone is kind and non-judgmental.
"I think I have just the thing" Kelly says, placing the bag on the bed, she pulls out a stunning, black lace dress. It's ankle-length and just a little bit see-through.
Jordan's mouth drops open, her eyes wide with wonder. "Kelly, it's... it's gorgeous."
Kelly grins, holding the dress out to her. "Try it on. I have a feeling it's going to be just right."
With a gleeful smile, Jordan takes the dress and slips into the bathroom to change. As she slides the soft fabric over her skin, she feels a rush of confidence and excitement.
When she emerges, Kelly's face lights up with approval. "Jordan you look gorgeous"
Jordan twirls in front of the mirror, marveling at the way the dress hugs her figure in all the right places. It's elegant and sexy, but still tasteful and comfortable.
Then she rushes over to her sister-in-law, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushes, her voice muffled against Kelly's shoulder. "You are the best sister in the world!"
Kelly laughs, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I know. Just make sure to wear a jacket with it."
Jordan pulls back, raising an eyebrow. "Because it's cold outside?"
Kelly smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. "No, because Jake's not letting you out of the apartment in that dress without one"
Jordan chuckles, rolling her eyes as Kelly slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Jordan stands in front of her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her look. She carefully selects a pair of small gold earrings and inserts them into her first piercings, the delicate metal catching the light as she turns her head. For her second piercings, she chooses a pair of understated fake diamond studs, adding just the right amount of sparkle.
Next, she slips on a gold bangle bracelet, the smooth metal cool against her skin. She rummages through her jewelry box, picking out a few gold rings that complement the bracelet and slides them onto her fingers.
Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Jordan straps on her short, open-toed black heels, knowing if she chooses anything taller than 3 inches she won't be able to walk to the park, where Luke's picking her up.
Standing up, she takes one last look in the mirror, adjusting the small gold lock pendant engraved with a "J" that rests just below her collarbone.
She reaches for her favorite perfume, a light floral scent with a hint of vanilla, and spritzes it on her wrists and neck, she takes one last look in the mirror, when her phone chimes with an incoming message.
It's from Luke: Almost there
Jordan's heart skips a beat, and she feels a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.
She grabs her favorite oversized leather jacket, and she slips it on, the supple material soft against her bare arms.
With a deep breath, Jordan picks up her phone and purse and takes one last glance around her room, making sure she hasn't forgotten anything. Satisfied, she switches off the light and makes her way into the living room.
As she enters the room, Jacob and Kelly look up from their place on the couch.
"Jords you look gorgeous" Kelly beams "Doesn't she look amazing?" she asks nudging Jacob
"Very grown up" Jacob says
Jordan scoffs "I am a grown up"
"Ehhhh" Jacob teases
"Shut up" Jordan jokes
Jacob sits up a little straighter, his brow furrowing. "So, when do we get to meet this mystery man of yours?" he asks, his tone lightly teasing but with an undercurrent of protectiveness.
Jordan shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her brother's gaze “Someday, but not today."
Jacob looks like he wants to argue, but Kelly places a gentle hand on his arm, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.
"So, where are you two going?" she asks instead, changing the subject.
Jordan smiles, feeling a rush of gratitude for her sister-in-law's understanding. "Just dinner, somewhere in Manhattan. Nothing too fancy, but hopefully a nice place to talk and get to know each other better."
Jacob leans back on the couch, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Make sure he knows if he hurts you, I'll sic the entire Rangers team on him."
Jordan forces a laugh, her stomach twisting with a subtle pang of guilt, knowing if Jacob knew the truth, he'd do it anyway.
"I think I can handle myself, Jake," she says, trying to keep her tone light.
She glances at her phone, realizing that she needs to leave if she's going to make it to the park on time. "Alright, I should get going. Don't wait up, okay?"
She gives Jacob and Kelly each a quick hug before heading out the door, her heart pounding with anticipation.
The ride down to the lobby seems to take forever, but finally, the doors slide open and Jordan steps out into the cool evening air.
She walks quickly, her heels tapping out a steady rhythm on the sidewalk as she makes her way towards the park.
*****
Luke sits in his car, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel as he waits for Jordan to arrive. His heart skips a beat when he sees her walking towards him, looking absolutely stunning in her black lace dress and leather jacket. A smile spreads across his face as he gets out of the car, holding the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots behind his back.
"Wow, Jordan, you look... incredible," he breathes, his eyes taking in every inch of her.
Jordan blushes, a shy smile on her lips. "You don't look too bad yourself."
Luke reveals the flowers from behind his back, holding them out to her. "These are for you."
Jordan's eyes widen as she takes the bouquet, her fingers gently brushing against the delicate petals. "Luke, they're gorgeous. Forget me nots are my favorite. How'd you know?"
Luke grins, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest. "Just a lucky guess."
He opens the car door for her, waiting until she's settled before closing it gently and making his way to the driver's side. As he slides behind the wheel, he glances over at Jordan, his heart full.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice soft.
Jordan nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Definitely."
As Luke pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, they fall into easy conversation, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. The city lights fade behind them as they make their way to the restaurant, a cozy place nestled just outside the city.
When they arrive, Luke hurries to open Jordan's door, offering her his hand as she steps out of the car. She takes it, her skin warm against his, and together they make their way inside.
The restaurant is every bit as romantic as Luke had hoped, with soft lighting, crisp white tablecloths, and low music. The hostess greets them with a smile, her eyes flickering to the reservation book.
"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"
Luke nods, his hand finding Jordan's. "Yes, under Hughes."
The hostess nods, grabbing two menus and leading them to a secluded booth in the corner. "Right this way."
As they slide into the plush seats, Luke can't take his eyes off Jordan. She's even more beautiful in the candlelight, her skin glowing and her eyes shining.
They open their menus, perusing the options and chatting about their favorite dishes. When the waiter arrives to take their order, Luke goes for the lobster, while Jordan opts for the pasta with grilled shrimp.
As they wait for their food, they start talking, their earlier nerves melting away.
"So, tell me something about you that most people don't know," Luke says, leaning forward with a grin.
Jordan thinks for a moment, then laughs. "Okay, well... when I was little, I was convinced I could talk to animals. I used to have full-on conversations with my stuffed animals, and I was sure they were talking back."
Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "That's adorable. I can just picture little Jordan, chatting away with her teddy bear."
"Oh, it wasn't just teddy bears," Jordan says, her eyes sparkling. "I had full-on debates with my brother's action figures. I was convinced that G.I. Joe was a pacifist at heart."
Luke laughs, his eyes gleaming "That's hilarious"
"So what about you, what don't people know?" Jordan asks
Luke hesitates, thinking, before a smile crosses his face "When I was younger I had an imaginary friend" He starts
Jordan giggles, "Really?"
"Yep, he was a whale, named Captain we use to talk about hockey, and play board games" Luke explains
"Captain?" Jordan teases
"Hey I was 5, and never been very creative" Luke jokes
They dissolve into laughter, the sound mingling with the soft music playing in the background.
They're conversation continues, exchanging funny childhood stories, and they get so lost in one another, they barely notice when the waiter returns, setting their meals down in front of them.
"Lobster for the gentleman, and pasta with shrimp for the lady," he says with a smile. "Enjoy."
They both thank him, before unfolding their napkins and placing them on their laps.
As they eat, they trade stories back and forth, learning more about each other with every passing minute. Jordan tells him about growing up with Jacob, about the pranks they used to pull on each other.
"One time, when he was about 15, he decided he wanted to dye his hair blond," she says, grinning at the memory. "But he didn't want to tell our parents, so he tried to do it himself in the bathroom sink. It was a disaster - his hair turned out this weird orangey-yellow color, and it was so fried from the bleach that it felt like straw."
Luke nearly chokes on his lobster, he's laughing so hard. "I can't see Jacob Trouba doing that," he manages, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
"Oh, believe me, he did," Jordan chuckles. "And he had to go to school like that for a week before he could get it fixed. The guys on his team called him 'Cheeto Head' for months."
As their laughter fades, Luke feels a sudden surge of affection for the girl sitting across from him. Without thinking, he reaches across the table, taking her hand in his.
"Jordan," he says softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I really like you. Like, really, really like you."
Jordan's smile is soft, her eyes shining in the candlelight. "I really like you too, Luke."
Luke's heart soars, but a flicker of uncertainty crosses his face. "What are we going to do about... everything else? Your brother, my team... it's not going to be easy."
Jordan sighs, but she doesn't pull her hand away. "I know it won't be easy. But Luke, I don't want to let other people's opinions dictate my life. I like you, and you like me, and as cliché as it sounds, I think that's enough."
Luke nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I feel the same way. But do you think we should tell them? About us?"
Jordan thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "Not yet. I say, for now, we just enjoy this - enjoy being together, without any outside pressure. We can tell them eventually, but right now, I just want to spend time with you."
"I want that too," Luke says softly
They finish their meal, the conversation flowing easily once more. When the check comes, Luke insists on paying, waving away Jordan's protests with a grin.
They step out into the crisp night air, their hands intertwined. They walk for a bit, enjoying the quiet of the countryside, until they stumble upon a little ice cream shop.
"Ice cream? In this weather?" Luke laughs, but she's already tugging him towards the door.
They order their flavors - rocky road for Luke, strawberry for Jordan - and settle onto a bench outside, huddled close together for warmth.
"This is crazy," Luke chuckles, taking a lick of his cone. "It's like 40 degrees out here."
"Hey, there's never a bad time for ice cream," Jordan argues, grinning.
They finish their treats, laughing and talking, their free hands clasped tightly together. When they finally make their way back to Luke's car, he walks her to the passenger side, his heart pounding in his chest.
Just as he's about to open the door for her, Jordan turns to face him, her eyes locking with his. The air between them is charged, electric, and before either of them can think too hard about it, they're kissing.
It's soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, Luke's hands coming up to cradle Jordan's face as her arms wind around his neck. They pour everything they're feeling into the kiss - all the affection, the longing, the hope for what's to come.
When they finally break apart, they're both breathless, their cheeks flushed and their eyes shining.
"Wow," Jordan whispers, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Ya" Luke agrees, pressing one more quick kiss to her lips before opening the car door for her.
As they drive back towards the city, their hands clasped over the center console, Luke feels a sense of peace settle over him.
*****
Jordan and Luke sit in his car, in the parking lot of the park. The engine is off, but neither of them makes a move to leave, both reluctant to let the night end.
Jordan turns to Luke, a soft smile on her face. "I had a really great time tonight, Luke."
Luke reaches over, taking her hand in his. "Me too, I'm so glad we finally got to do this."
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, their fingers intertwined, before Jordan's phone buzzes, she can see her brothers contact name, and reluctantly pulls away, "I should probably get going"
"Ya, ya me too, I got practice in the morning" Luke sighs "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at your apartment? It's a little late" Luke asks
"Ya I'm sure, Jacob's probably still up" Jordan says
Luke nods, "Fair enough, just be safe okay"
Jordan nods, a warm feeling spreading through her chest at his concern. "Of course. And Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"Text me when you get home, okay?"
Luke smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I will. I promise."
With one last squeeze of his hand, Jordan steps out of the car, the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots clutched tightly in her hand. She makes her way across the park, down the street, and into her apartment building.
When she opens the door to her apartment, she's unsurprised to find Jacob and Kelly still awake, cuddled up on the couch watching TV. They both look up as she enters, muting the television.
"Hey, Jords," Jacob greets her, a teasing smile on his face. "How was the date?"
Jordan can't help the grin that spreads across her face. "It was great, actually. Really great."
Kelly's eyes land on the flowers in Jordan's hand, and she lets out a little squeal of excitement. "Oh my gosh, he brought you flowers? What a gentleman!"
Jordan blushes, looking down at the bouquet. "Yeah, he really is. It was such a sweet gesture."
Kelly stands up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. "Let me get a vase for those."
Jordan follows her, setting her phone and the flowers down on the counter. Jacob trails behind them.
"So, when do we get to meet this Prince Charming of yours?" he asks, leaning against the fridge.
Jordan rolls her eyes, but there's no heat behind it. "Slow your roll, Jake. It was just one date."
"One date that apparently went really well," he counters, raising an eyebrow. "I'm just saying, as your big brother, it's my duty to make sure he's good enough for you."
Jordan laughs, shaking her head. "I think I'm old enough to decide that for myself, but I appreciate the concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to change into something a little more comfortable."
She heads off towards her bedroom, leaving her phone on the counter. Just as she disappears down the hall, the device buzzes with an incoming text.
Jacob glances at Kelly, who's busy arranging the flowers in a vase. "It's probably her date"
Kelly shoots him a Look. "Jacob Trouba, don't you dare snoop through your sister's private messages."
But Jacob is already reaching for the phone, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, come on, Kel. It's not snooping if it's left out in the open like this."
Kelly swats at his arm, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're impossible."
Jacob just grins, unlocking Jordan's phone with a swipe of his finger. His eyes scanning the screen. The contact name reads Luke, there's no last name attached, just the single word followed by a heart emoji.
"I had a great time tonight," he reads aloud, his tone softening. "Smiley face."
He sets the phone back down on the counter, a genuine smile on his face. Kelly leans over, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"She seems happy," she murmurs, watching the screen fade to black.
Jacob nods, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "Ya she does."
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ohhhh i always have requests! quite fond of lil drabble ideas: bruce teaching dick to dance and (years later when they’re together) they recreating some of their first dances, slade being the one to gift dick his first leather jacket that he still regularly wears, An Event Occurs and in the aftermath dick realizes how irreplaceable he is to bruce and just how much bruce both loves him and needs him, bruce and dick’s undercover aliases that keep getting more and more romantic over the years
In Dick’s experience, returning to his apartment after a week away and finding a mysterious box on the coffee table that was definitely not there when he left is, usually, not actually a big deal.
He’s still careful—the little Batman that lives in the back of his head would never give him a moment of peace if he wasn’t—but he’s just very aware of the fact that, nine times out of ten, the not-so-little Batman is the one breaking in and leaving little treats for him to find later, because Bruce is deathly allergic to seeing people’s reactions to his gifts in real-time.
Dick runs through the standard checks, but nothing sounds or smells off, and nothing pings as suspicious on infrared or the particulate detector. He steps closer to inspect the box. It’s rectangular, all white, and generally unremarkable except for the fact that he didn’t put it there.
Carefully, he lifts the lid. He’s expecting some kind of gear—it wouldn’t be the first time a new suit or toys showed up unannounced.
What he finds is a leather moto jacket.
He gently lifts it out of the box and stares at it, bemused. It’s very nice—genuine Italian leather by the feel of it, black with silver hardware and diagonal pockets in the shape of a V, and just his size. There’s no note of any kind, but when he sniffs the leather, he also gets a whiff of maple and gun oil—and that feels like a signature in and of itself.
Dick pulls out his phone, dials in the number from memory, and sinks into the couch as it rings.
“Happy birthday,” Slade says when he picks up, voice low and rumbling.
Dick suppresses a smile. “You’re late.”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
“You really wanna know the answer to that?”
Dick bites the inside of his cheek and fiddles with the zipper of the jacket. They’ve been getting along all right ever since they’d been forced to team up on the cruise ship from hell, but still, a little plausible deniability goes a long way, between them. “How long ‘til I find out on my own?”
“Now that depends,” Slade says, drawing out the words. “You still talking to Rose?”
Dick blinks. “You were visiting Rose?”
“Something like that.”
“She shut the door in your face,” Dick guesses.
Slade grunts. “We can meet not at her apartment.”
“And she’s moving?”
“And she’s moving.” Slade doesn’t sound particularly annoyed about it, but then again, finding people who don’t want to be found is basically his job. Dick makes a mental note to see if Rose wants a hand making her dad’s life harder.
“So why the jacket?” Dick says, running his hand over the leather. It really is nice. He wonders where Slade got it, and whether it was paid for in money or blood. He probably doesn’t want to know.
“You complained I made you ruin yours,” Slade says. “Reckon we’re square now.”
Dick raises his eyebrows, even though Slade can’t see it. “I don’t remember doing that, but if I did, it had to have been, what… seven years ago? At least?”
“I’ve got a long memory.” It sounds vaguely like a threat, in Slade’s voice, but the jacket itself seems far from one, so Dick lets it pass.
“If you’re trying to make up for that,” Dick says, “then you’re really late.”
“You’d’ve thrown it straight in the trash if I ever tried before.”
“I could still do that.”
“You won’t.”
“Well, now I have to.”
Slade scoffs. “Go ahead. Would be a waste of perfectly good leather, though.”
The desire for knowledge wins out. “Where’d you get it?”
“Made it.”
Dick pauses, uncertain he’d heard correctly. When Slade doesn’t elaborate, though, Dick echoes, uncertainly, “Made it?”
“Wintergreen helped some.”
Dick opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Made it?
“Who exactly did you think made my first few costumes?” Slade says, sounding amused. “Not all of us have your daddy’s resources.”
It’s one thing for Slade to have bought him something; Dick can explain that away as just a whim—an act of opportunity, as it were. But Slade spending the time and energy to make it himself?
That’s premeditation.
“This isn’t a birthday gift.”
“I said happy birthday, didn’t I?”
“This isn’t just a birthday gift,” Dick presses.
Slade doesn’t respond, and Dick lets the silence stretch far past the point of discomfort. Still, neither of them hangs up. Slade may be a stubborn asshole, but Dick has been trained in the art of silence-offs by the most frustratingly stoic of them all.
Dick smooths out the collar of the jacket and straightens out the arms while he waits. Now that he’s looking closer, he can tell the seams aren’t the tidy stitches of a lifelong craftsman, but it’s impressive work, all the same. Work that must have taken a hell of a lot of effort.
Finally, Slade breaks the rhythm of quiet breathing. “Whatever it is,” he says, “it’s yours now. Throw it in the trash if you want. Or don’t. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
It has everything to do with Slade, but the fact that Slade is insisting so hard that it doesn’t is both a little funny and extremely sad. Dick can recognize a fear of rejection when he hears it.
Dick puts a hand on top of the jacket. “It doesn’t really make sense to give me this,” he says, “if you’re never going to see me wear it.”
Slade is silent for a moment, but not as long as before. “I’ve got time,” he says, slowly, like he’s leaving space for Dick to cut him off between one word and the next. “Two weeks from now.”
“Two weeks,” Dick agrees. “I assume you don’t need the address.”
“Think I’ve got it.” Slade’s voice is dry, but lacking its usual knife-sharp edge. “See you soon, kid.”
He hangs up before Dick can respond.
Dick smiles anyway. “See you soon.”
----
Footnote: RIP Dick's expensive jacket (this is $300 in 80s money)
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TW: BLOOD, GORE, UNCONSENTUAL BODY MODIFICATION, LOTS OF EYES, EYE CONTACT, UNSETTLING IMAGERY
(It's a horror exchange what did you expect)
Hello! This is a gift for @kitty-dunks for the @mcythorrorgiftexchange !
I hope you don't mind the first part of the fic is from Doc's perspective, I had an idea and got carried away lol. This is two drawings that I gave a story to, as I was having a lot of fun with the horror and decided to keep going. It's not quite 1,500 words but I feel like thats ok because my main objective was the drawings, and I just decided to try and write something, I'm not very good at writing but please enjoy!
Fandom: Hermitcraft
Characters: Docm77, Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, GoodTimesWithScar
Words: 1,200
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Doc was trying to fix his tunnel boar. After Grian and Scar blew it up, he kind of forgot about it in all the mayhem of their newfound war. So, he's fixing it. He has already gathered the resources necessary for this, it's just a matter of putting it all together. Doc was so focused on building; he never realized the sounds from the wardens had stopped. He was so focused; he never noticed the sound of an approaching entity. It sounded like a slime was trying to slither but was failing, but it was still approaching, and fast too. Doc had his back turned to the exit when he heard a noise. A small thump, from behind him. He turned around to see, nothing. 'Weird' he thought and went back to working on the tunnel boar.
Had it gotten colder? He swears it wasn't this cold before. Now shivering, he brushes it off as another weird thing about Hermitcraft, or it could be the altitude. Either way, he needs to get this done. Doc feels a… hand? No. Claws, run up his arm. He freezes as it grips his shoulder, and another clawed hand is set on his head. The claws feel eerily cold but, at the same time, warm, but the warmth isn't coming from the entity, no, it's coming from something liquid-like on its claws. Blood, he realizes. He should run, turn, and fight, do something… but he stands there, unable to move. Another hand grabs at his cyber-horn this time. 'How many hands does this thing have!?' Doc wanders to himself as he brings his hands up, hugging his arms.
He is terrified. In one quick movement, he is picked up off the ground and thrown against the wall. *CRACK* He has lost all feeling throughout his entire body. He is picked up with one of the clawed hands by his neck. Helpless now, as he can see his attacker.
The bottom half is a goopy black mess of god know what, and there’s three people, or what he assumes to be people, visible from the waist up: The Buttercups, Grian, Scar, and Mumbo. The one on the left, Grian, is wearing his normal outfit, red jumper pulled down just below the shoulders, with a black skintight shirt underneath. But his wings are bone, being held together by flowers (buttercups he asumes) and brown vines. His jaw has been torn off, revealing rows of sharp teeth, with more flowers at the corners of his mouth, and the vines growing out of his mouth and skin.
"Hello, there dear friend." Grian says with a voice that sounds way to friendly.
The one on the right, Scar, is wearing his Scarland uniform, the bright orange safety vest with a yellow stripe down each side, over a blue button up, with a white undershirt and a black tie. But he has large wings that could only be described as a vex's covered with the same yellow flowers, and brown vines. His mouth is spread uncannily across his face, with fangs poking through. and the scar on his face looks fresh and is growing more of the flowers and vines.
"We see you're fixing up your tunnel boar, sorry again about that." Scar says with the same over friendly voice.
The one in the middle, Mumbo, is wearing his normal black suit, white under shirt, and red tie. But his stomach has been torn open to reveal a worrying lack of organs, with only the heart remaining. Mumbo looks as if he were crying redstone. And a flower crown seems to be growing from his head, consisting of the same flowers and vines the other two had.
"I'm sorry it had to go this way, but we draw the line at eggs." Mumbo said, sounding genuinely sorry, and, was his voice coming from his chest?
Doc couldn't foucus on anything right now, as he was unable to speak, seeing as his spine was close to shattered, and he was being choked to death.
~~~~~
Doc awoke in a cold sweat. Had he just been killed? He checked his communicator, no death message, just: Docm77 went to sleep. Sweet dreams! It was a dream? No, it was a nightmare. He stumbled out of bed, and quickly pulled out his elytra, flying to The Buttercups camp. He landed and, there they were, The Buttercups, looking completely normal. Just as they normally do, no black mass, or flowers and vines growing from their skin.
"You good man?" Mumbo asked him, sounding concerned.
"Yep, fine!" Doc replied, way too quickly.
"Okayyy, well, I was 'bout to head off, those rocks don't build themselves!" Grian said standing up, he sounded nothing like he did in Doc's dream. With the overly friendly voice being replaced with his normal mischievous one.
"Ok, well, bye now."
Doc said and turned to leave but turned back just in time to see Grian fly off. Doc then turned right back to the Perimeter and flew back to his base. Ignoring the black goop, he swore he saw on Grian's wings.
~~~~~
"That was weird, even for Doc, right?" Mumbo asked his friend. Scar, who was sitting right next to him agreed.
"Maby he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed? Happens to me all the time!" Scar's voice was just as cheery as it normally is.
"Let’s be real, he was probably fretting over the prank Grian had us play on him." Mumbo admitted.
Like saying his name had summoned him, Grian popped up behind them.
"You're probably right Mumbo."
"AHHHH!!" Mumbo and Scar screamed in unison, falling off the logs they were sitting on.
"HOW DO YOU DO THAT!?"
"YOU DIDN'T EVEN MAKE ANY NOISE!!"
The Buttercups were now laughing with each other, and the successful prank they pulled on Doc. If he was going to fill their bases with eggs, then they would retaliate. And Grian had a plan the end this silly war, but it would require a load of grass and dirt. And some outside help most likely!
~~~~~
Mumbo awoke with a jolt, as his lower body was in pain. Not sure what to do, he wobbled out of his little tent, Grian had convinced them to stay at the Buttercup Camp tonight, something about 'Doc might want revenge so we should stay together.' Mumbo was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Scar lying on the ground curled up on himself. He stumbled over to his friend, crouching down and laying a hand on his shoulder,
"You ok dude?" He asked Scar, getting only a muffled groan in response, he continued,
"Me too man, I'm not sure whats going on."
Moments later, Grian emerged from his tent and joined them in the center of the camp,
"All three of us? What's going on?"
As soon as he said that, the three were hit with an immence pain from their waists to their feet, and in an instant, there was an explosion of pitch black goop, combining the three into one entity.
Grian's jaw had been ripped off in the blast, with yellow buttercups, and brown vines growing at the corners of his mouth. The feathers and flesh had melted from his wings, leaving bone that was being held together by the same flowers and vines.
"What the hell?" He said with a shaky voice, or said as well as you can say something with no jaw. But still understandable, suprisingly.
Scar's mouth had torn at the corners, giving him a wide and eeri grin. The scar that adorned his face looked fresh, like it had just been given to him, and had more of the flowers and vines growing from it. His vex wings had trippled in size, now covedered by the buttercups and vines.
"What's going on!? Whats happening to us!?" Scar said through the pain of his new mouth.
Mumbo now had a gapping hole in his chest, or rather his chest was now a giant hole, with all of his organs missing, whith the exception of his heart, but it wasn't beating. The flowers and vines were growing from his head in the shape of a crown, a flower crown. His eyes had begun to spill redstone, like he was crying, burning his eyes as the redstone-tears ran down his face. His mouth had been sewn shut with the vines.
"I think were becoming the monster we used to prank Doc." He said, although, it sounded like it came from his chest. Where from in his chest? Who knows.
There body's (and minds for that matter) had become distorted. They had been robbed of their memories, personalities, and humanity, all three now shared one mind, and that mind had one thought: Kill Docm77. But the goop wasn't going to leave them unarmed, no, it gave them a weapon, with a suspiciously familiar symbol on it. And the ability to perma-kill any player.
With their new weapon, and lack of self-control, they went in search of Doc.
~~~~~
He was fairly easy to find, just go to The Perimiter (wich they were right next to), and look around. And as soon as Buttercup laid eyes on Doc, he was doomed. They slowly approched from behind, not wanting to scare their prey.
~~~~~
Doc was playing with his tomatoes. They don't get much attention, seeing as Doc is very busy most of the time. With the war, and The Perimeter nowhere near done, he doesn't have much off-time. But he has some now, so he's using it wisely. But the tomatoes are acting strange, are they… trembling? And some are hopping off too. Oh dear.
" H̴̡̨̢̜̣̘̝͇̻̺̮̥͌̊̐̌͋͘͜ͅe̷̞̱̭͈̟̎͐̓̓̃̑͋l̵̪͍̙̱̇̐̎͆̽̀͑̆͑̒̆͜͝l̸̨͎͈͚̫̘̬̼̳̳̱͉̪̦̜̽͐͒̽͂̈́̃͆̕ǫ̷̗͚̫̬̟̘̪͖̝̆̈̒͘ ̷̡̡̻͍̗̮̘͖̲̣͒͌̄̀̈̿͆́̇͊͘̚͜͠͠a̸̳̐̌̔̈̈́̉́̿̂g̴̦͎̭̼̝̰͈̈́̂͊̂̉͂̏̒͊̂̔̆ͅa̷̧̧͙̮̣͍͔̣͎͙̯͔̻̾̍̚͠ͅi̴̡̺̗̣̭̰͓͈͇͕͖̼͍͈̖͆͒͒̇̇̌́̆̃̿̓͒̎n̷̝̎̓̆͝ " (Hello again) Three voices said at once, but heavily distorted.
Doc turned around, slowly, and was face to face with the monster of the buttercups he faced in his dream.
"Th- this… has to be a dream again, right?" He asked… himself? The monster?
"h̵̨̩̪̜̙̘̠͇̠̺̰̜̠͌͌̎͛̿̔̔̾ͅe̶̻̗̔̐̕̚͜h̴̛̙̟̥͔̙̭̋̑̋͛͐̽̒̀͝͝ę̵̡̧̢̧̛͖̰̹̻̗̞̻̝̽̃̏͆̈́̕ͅ,̵̟̲̼͈̭͖̰̍́̏̍͛̏͗̇̓̀̐͗͠ ̵̢̙̺̭͙̠͕̙̹͑̀͜s̴̛͕̝̗̠͔̊̆ǒ̴̢͈͙̬͓̜̘̰̂͜͜ŗ̶̝͔̳̹͎̗͎̘̘̤͛͑̿̒̕̕r̶̢̧͓͇̞̹̲͈̹̰͉͎̀̂̽͆͜͝͝y̶̨̩̞̰͖̺̠̘͗̍̏͆͊̔̾͑̉̈̉̈́̀̔͠,̷̨̛̝͓͈͂͂́̓͆̏͆̓̿͊́͌̿͜ ̴̛̦̻̼̲̲̤̍̐͊͛̈̑̅̌͌̌̆ͅb̶͔͔̗̠̫͇̊͋͂̌̅͝ữ̶͔̗͎̥͛̌̊͒͆̾͘͜͝ţ̵͈͍͇̥̞̌̆͊͑͂͠͠ͅ ̵̢̨̻̞̜̗̰̦̟̟͐̀̈͐̌͑̈͂̈́̀͐͆̃̓ń̵̡̡̹̜̖̗̻̹̩̟́ỏ̸̯̣̟̈̈̈́̃̉̓͂́̀͘.̶̧̛͔͍̯͔̩̃͂̀͊͑̇̈̽́̒͘ͅ " (hehe, sorry, but no.) It responded, giving him the answer he feared most.
Doc turned, and ran. He ran far enough to equip his elytra, and fire a rocket. Only to be shot out of the sky by god knows what, but it wasn't an arrow. Hitting the ground took half of his health, with no time at all to react, he was pulled to his feet by his horn, with a large clawed hand that seemed to be giving him a potion effect. 'What potio-' Stopped halfway through his thought by an ache in his head, 'Oh, wither effect' Not good, not good at all. Then, something started to block his vision, the ach growing and spreading, and now acompanied by brown vines (the ones that adorned The Buttercups) and, looking down at his hands, the flowers too. He was thrown against the wall, being held to it by the vines, and now had a good look at the monster in front of him. The temperature had dropped by atleast 20° (Fahrenheit).
"W̷̛̛̹͓̲̞͉̘̟̹̭͉̦̑̈̈́̀͒̓͘͝ę̵̛̤͙̭̮͎͙̘͇̓̈̐̉̋'̴̛̖̖͉͎̯̠̯́̀͗͛̉̇͋̾͛̊͜͝v̷̭͉͚́́̊̀̚̚͝e̷̛͎̖̜̝̘͙͈̓͌͑̽͋́̚͝ ̶̛̘̭̭̲̺̪͓̠̜͓͙̣͎͝ͅb̷̢̹̖̹͖̠̲̺̀͑͂̈́̎̅͠͝é̸͉̺̠̉̓ę̶̛̜̩̜̘͔͇̙̞͖̪͍̋́̇̉̊͋̓͊́̎̑͂ͅn̸̠̰̯͙̊͊́͒̏̋͐̂̒͛͆͠ ̸̨̛͚̩̘̬̼͙͉̤̄͊͒̄́͘ģ̴̬̦̮̥̥͇̓̐̓̽̈́̈͗͋̇͑́͘̕̕͝ĭ̸̧͚͕͔̟̺͉͓̳̻͍̮̝̼̜̔͆͗̎͑̆̄̚͝v̶̧̩͖͎͇̣͔̭̪̼̜̭̜͊͋̀̍̃͂̋e̶̡̮̬̭͋̓̂̿̍͐̿̊́͌͗͛̎̚ͅn̵̨̫͙̯̲̺̻̟̲̖̣̲͚̙̓͐̉̌̎̃̌̊̄̓̅͜ ̸̨̢̡̼̲̞͍͚͓̺̹̩̰̱̼̿ḁ̴̪̈́̂̐́̈́̈́̚͠ ̸̮̩̈́͆͑̔͑͌̎̍̍̉͆͠g̶̨͖͍̼̦̙̮̉́́̽̑̅̀́ͅō̵̰̳͕̙̦̩̚à̴̛͈̦̖͖̫͈̠̪́̒̀̓̿̓̍̚̚͜͜l̶̙͉̍̒͂͗͛͑̍͗̉̇̏͊,̵͉̏̂̓̿̒̚̚ ̸̡̧̘̗͙̖̘̥̖̪̆̂â̵͖̯̙͉̪̈́̂̂̊̒̈́͜͝n̷̨̖͎̮̖̼͖̦̖͒͗̐̀̈́͌̃͝͠d̶̗̫̫̤̜̳͇̳̜̦̘̀̍ ̷̣̮̗̮̫̺̥̣̗̹̣̅̇̐̒͜ͅr̸͓̍͋e̸̡̧̢̧̡͖̱̻̦͉̮̻̻̲̝͆͛͐̄́ḟ̴̯̩̠͉͎͖̘̯̱̘͓̟͕̩̗̉̾͝u̵͔͍̜̿̈̅̌̈́ṡ̶͙̗̜̺͓̻͖̭̺̠̯͓̘͆̽͘ẽ̶̡̛̟͚̝̯͕̜̖̗̞̘͙́̅͛͌̌̍̑̇̍́̍͝͠ ̴̢̨̫̥̩̬̰̪̙͔͓̌̿̆̊͛̅̓͐̒͛̌̕t̷̢̨̼̟͚̙̘̖̣̤͇͙̺͛͆͂̈́̈́̿͛͊̌͜͜͝o̵̹̣̝̝̭͚̲̪̺̙̩͆͒̓̔͆̃̐͊͠ ̷̦̏͋̒̐f̷͖̥͙̻̈̈a̷̘̱̳̲͐̽̉̆̂̃͐͐̌̆͘͘͝i̸̩̫̟̹͆̇̾̀͋͆͂̌͌̕̕͝͠͠l̴̡̠̳͍̦̰̥̲̫̯̈́̾̃̔̈́̐̈́.̸̡̜̗̫̘̕ " (We've been given a goal, and refuse to fail)
Suddenly, a cold blade is plunged through his chest and pulled out again. It leaves, leaving him to bleed out, held to the wall by vines and flowers, bleeding out, and cold and tired, Doc sits, and waits for a respawn that never comes, left to float in the endless void of the afterlife.
~~~~~
Buttercup now has no goal, no driving motivation, nothing keeping it in line, the goop leaves it to its own accords. Buttercup goes mad. It was designined to kill Doc. But there is no Doc to kill. What is it supposed to do.
" W̴̛̪̟̬̹̤̔̿͑̈͑͆̅̚ḩ̷̦͍͉̯̪͇̞̘͇̰̰̽̈́̃̄́̍̅̌͆͠a̶̱̘͔̰̮͈̼͋̆͊̑̓̓͌̄͘͜t̷̬̻͍̥̠̲̀͒̊̚͝ ̷̳̦̣̟͎̳̩̹̾̃̌̄͂͋͑́͜͠͝a̵̧̨̠̳̖̭̪̬̪̪̗̽̆̀r̴̞͕̐̔̆̉͝͠ͅȩ̵̞̠̣͙̖̮̪̤̋̾͗̔̅̾̈́͘̕͠ ̷̡̠̣̻̝̍͋̑͂̍̓̓̆̂̍ͅw̸̨͇͈̍̽͆̇͛̅̉͜é̵̢̮̦͇̞̥̟ ̵̦͇̫̣̺͓̥͔̣̩̗̥̌̐͌̑̈́̓̈͛̃̔͌͝ͅs̶̛̤̼̒̎̇͛͆͛̎̽͛̀̎ư̴̢̳̙̝̤̳̪̇̄̈́̕͠p̴̢̨̧̡͔̳͚̯͇̦̥̟͖̰̊̓̈́̇̽̇̓̀͂́͘͜p̸̢͉̰̬̤͇̮̗̰̠̦̣̤̣̆ͅơ̸̧͙͉̞͍͖͈͆̏̍͌̈́̾͊̏̔̂͘s̸̝͔͙̉͐̎̐̍̏̄́̓͝͝e̴̛͓͍̟̝̱̙͐͒̈́͆̕̚̚͝͠d̷͕͎̰̹͕̜̩̜͚̈́̔̒̀͑̀̇̚̕͝͠ ̸̜̥̦̲̬̏̊t̵̨̫̝͎̜̦͖̟͉̳̜̅͂̅̎̑̍͛̈́̋̚͜͠ͅõ̵̢̱̹͎̒̒̊̂̓̊̈́̒͆͠͝ ̵̧̨̡̧͉͈͗͌̀̉͒͋d̴̡̨͕̠̝͓͖̠̙͍̰̈́͐̓̋̃̀̅͌̚̚ó̸̧͓̜͚̲̯̦͔̅̍̇̕͝?̴̡͎̭͙̲̫̼̯̜͌ " (What are we supposed to do?) It cries out, into the night, with no one to hear it.
" W̶̧̡̧̠̪̫̥̩̩̖̱̻̪͕͂̅͐͋̈́̆̾͂̂ê̴̡͔̫͇̲̯̬̈́̾͊̿̕ ̴̤̬̩̞̦̗̜̻̜͎͔̰̼̏͋͒͊̄̓̋͋̈̍̀̿̇͝͝w̵̧̘̣̗͚̳̱̫̠̠͛̔ͅę̶͇̫͙̗̙͎̭̍ͅͅͅŕ̶̡͈̹͆̎̊͐͒̓̅͂̈́́̚͝ę̸̧̼̘͕̥̱̞͕̬̣̿̔̋̔̋̅̓̈́̂̍͒̈́̈̚͜ ̸̧͍͈͙̥̠̣̮̗͉̀̈̋̎͗̀̆̑̊̋͝d̸̢̗̱̜̙̩͉̠͂̄͊̌̋̎̔̓̕̚͜e̶̢͙̲͈̳͙̙̘͍̿̊͐͛̿͐̽̐͐́̓͛s̴̡̲͎͇̻̟̀͛̊̃͂͂̒͊͆͗͋̚͝i̴̹̒͌̌̿̕̕͝ģ̴͓̥̞̫̭̱̩̥̺͕̥͂̆͜ṋ̶̨̛̝̞͓̐̄̊̈́̕͠i̸̩̤͆͊̈̈́̀̓̎̕̕̚͝n̴̨̧̼̣̱̱̳͈͇̠̹͈̆̀̃̇̔̿̏̔͒̿͛͆͘͜͠ȅ̴̢͈͇͔͚̠͉̝͓̬͂̏̅͒̑͌͌̌̓̀̎̚͝d̶̡͈͍̼̙̼̻͈͈̈̽̿̊͑̆ ̸̡̳̖̯͇̭̘̟̭̘̙̥̉͛͆̍͝t̷̝̘͖̑͑̈́̈̍̀̏̃͆͌̓̎͊o̵̡̡̺̳̩̬̤͉͑͗͌͑̿̃͊̀̏̍͊̉ ̴̛̜̩̥̍̏̆͗̑̋k̸͈̻̈́͝i̴̠̟̟͎̺͇̘̱̻͖̪̕ͅl̸̮̳̫̬̳͈͍̪̱̹̮͇̽́̊̎͜͜ļ̷̛̛̠͚͐͗̽̒͐̀̈́͋͐̏͝,̶̨̨̢̢̮͇͙̯̳̤̰̻̟̹̬̍̌̈̈́̾̑͆̓͘̕͘͠ ̴͖̗̞̟̙̝̐̂̓̄̇̈́͊͐̊̓͛̃̀̚͠s̴̨̘̣̜̻̣͕͚͔̮͍̝̻͔̈́́͋́͌̒̈́͒̌̿̐̂̓͘͜ȯ̸̢̞͎̻̻̣̖̙̹̘̲͐̇̕͜͜ ̶̮͓̰̖͔̍͋͠͝l̵̳̭̰̲̂͆̓̍͑̓̈̆͝͝ͅě̸̛͙͙̮̚t̶̫̝͚̗̺̯͇̞̉͗̂̈́̃̿̿̾̀̋͋̈́͝͠ş̸̘̤̮̫́͌̈́̊́̅̎͘͜͝͠ ̴̢̱͓̲̮̝̗̱̥͖̗͍͌d̴͚̪̲̮͇̟̼͍̉ȍ̸̩͕̤̳̞̯͎̥͚̣͈̈̄̔͑͌̿̏͗̆̕͝ͅ ̶͚̖͚͇̖̦̝̜͉̦̳̇̓̐j̴̨̧̛̞͔̦̥̿̓̀̋͑͌̔̈́͊̂͋͠ͅư̷̢̮̥͉̘̙̩̤͉͇͉̝͌̽̽́̄͊̾̍̈́̒́ͅş̷̧̟̯̯̙̭̙̼̖̦̪͎̌̓̐̈́́̅̂̅̍̈́̍̅̕͜͝ͅt̶̛̼̜͚̹͗̓̃ ̴̧̛̲̦̼̼̟̙̦̻̭͔̫̫͆̅̑͐̃͆͂͐͑̅ť̵̡̝͇̜̦͇͖̅̈́h̷̬̮̻͚̰̦̗̮͙̄̍̒̇͆̊̾̀̄̓̉͜ā̴͖̜̠̩͖̖̐͒͋̇t̵̡̫̭̙̜̣̜̥͓̝̬̰̃̇̾̇̀̋̽͐̀̊͘.̵̪̣̮̰̍̈̂̂̌̋̈͒̐̀͠͝ " (We were designined to kill, so lets do just that.)
With a new motivation, one not crafted by the goo, but by its own mind, the one it was given by the rough dream magic, it set out to kill. Anything that it saw.
" Ẹ̸̠̘̯͚̻̫͔̮͈̳͈̝͋s̵̛̯̰͎̟͕̟̫̩̩̬̻̤̟̀̎̽̑͂͊͐͠ͅp̵̡͎̹͉̖̭͕̟͍̝̳͆̿̈͘͜ě̷̙̟̥̤͐̓́͗̆̄̚͝ç̶̼͖̀͂́̈͋̚į̸̡͍̖̟̺̮̙̜̪̤̓̽̄̒̇͗̑̉͘͝ͅa̶͇̳͉͙͎̾̀̈͒l̷̨̨̢̠̠̲̬͔̤̥̎̍͐̾̃̌͝y̷̦̘̞̮̒̀̃͑̽͠ ̷̨̰̘͙̖̬͉̠̭̱̯͊̓̓̈́̑͆͋̉͂̐̊͌̂b̴̯̰̙̻͔̙̝̤̺͙͑̀̓̒̄̑̿̊͛̐̑́̍̚u̴̡̢̖̠̹̟̟̟̫̓̓͊n̸̲̲̪̦͉̥̙͒̑̋̓̔̄̾̒͘n̷̡̪͈̱̭̱̗̫̰̣̜̖͊̑͜͜i̸̹̣͚͙̙͛͆̓̔́̇̈́͑̓ȅ̶͓̊̔̀͌͂̄͑̉̎͘͘s̵͓̜͇̝̦͍̘̀̽̊̋̓͠,̵̖͚͂̃̓̒̀͑͒̈́̚ ̶̨̩͍̗͇͕͎̯̻̥̟̥͔̋̉̄̑͋̓͗̀̅́̄̚͝͝ͅv̷̧̝̟͍̮͉̦̩̬͉͂͗̋͌̈́͜ĭ̶̡̧̧̛̹̝̫̮̯̤̲̎̈̆̋̌̈́̾̅̕͜l̵̗̼͙̰̲̫̎̆̓̾̔̒͒̀̏̒̈́̕͘͘͝ȩ̶̣͙̹̯̘̹̤͇͇̟̺̜̈́̈͌̄̊̃̔̔̈͆̅͆͛͐ ̸̢̛͚̗̝̻͉͓̫͉̩̟̪̠͒̈́̎̔̔̑̋̚͜v̸̧̧̱̣̗͔̜̻̭̥̥̭͉̊͐̿͗̌͂̕̕̚ͅẽ̶̢̞̼̼̪̤̹͎̼͈̗̙̬r̶̢̜̦̥̙̓̀̎̕̕͝m̷̦̟̮͚̞̲̅̏̑̐̉̅͛͒͑͑̽͊̕͘͠i̶̢͓͚̫̠͇͎͌̌͑͂̏̈́̂́̈́͝͠ñ̴̛͙̹̥͉͙̩̳̟̮̫̜̹̂̃͐̏́͐̐͊͑͠ȩ̸̯̩̬̹̺̊̂̈͌̿̔͒̂̈́̒̑̈́͗ͅs̷̠͙̲̺̣̯̜͙̗̬͙̥̝̖̏͛̉̒̔͌̌̆̍͝!̸̟̤̩̜̝̒̀́̈́͋͐͗̀̋̓̀̀́͜͝͝ͅ " ( Especialy bunnies, vile vermines!) Part of it said, wierd, but ok?
"STOP" A voice echoed from above.
With a flash of purple, all that remained of the encounter was the vines on the wall, and a note that said.
"Corrupted or killed,
but gone nevertheless.
Say goodbye to your friends,
and the dream magic mess."
Along with the death message in chat:
Docm77 was slain by ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ using The Watchers Blade
~~~~~
The members of Hermitcraft learned not to mess with dream magic after the Buttercup Incident. For they had lost three friends to maddness, and one more to the maddness of the others. Memorials are set up for them each season after season 9, along with the memorial for TFC.
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leche flan invisible string mick my love NOWWWW 5k words minimum and ill get back to slaving st the drawing pad 😈
5k words minimum when the original fic literally took me 2 days and 6k words is craZYY SOAP
(read the original piece here)
"oh, your cat is adorable," you coo, dropping to your knees with a grin. you extend your hand to the grey cat, the cat sniffing you curiously as its slowly approaches you. "a boy?"
"girl," mick lets you know with a grin. "her name's cement." he pops his head out of the kitchen. "get it? cause she's grey?"
"that's so funny! like my cat!" you shriek, starting to pat the cat on its head. "actually... cement looks a lot like concrete." you lift your head. "doesn't she?"
mick hums, trying to pull up an image of your cat from the back of his mind. truthfully, he's only ever seen concrete twice during your time together.
the first was when he'd found her roaming around the day she slipped out of your apartment and then another time when he spent the night over at yours after you started dating.
"huh," he laughs, "i guess you're actually kind of right. even their fur colour's kind of similar."
"you know, when concrete was a kitten, she used to have this white patch of fur in the shape of a heart right above her tail. it barely resembles a heart now," you explain as you get to your feet. you saunter towards the kitchen where mick stands.
"a heart-shaped patch as kitten?" mick snorts with a laugh. "that's cute– oh my god! that's the cat my sister wanted to adopt but the lady said she'd given the cat to the wrong person!"
"oh, my god!" you laugh, throwing your head back with a laugh. "that was you? the guy who reserved the cat with the heart patch!"
"i can't believe i never noticed that!" mick laughs. "you got it from that one lady in the suburbs with the big house? mama cat was a friendly white cat?"
"exactly her," you grin. "wow, guess you're really like... meant to be my boyfriend or something."
"i guess you're stuck with me then," mick beams, leaning down with puckered lips. "because the universe said so."
"we have to get our cats in for a playdate soon." you glance over your shoulder at cement now padding towards the area her water bowl was placed. "they're siblings, how sweet."
gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @localwhoore @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @hrts4scarr
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🍀The Apothecary Diaries-Maomao🍀
🍀Hey guys, it’s been awhile. This is kind of random, but I have been obsessed with this anime/manga!! I love Maomao as a character, especially her cat persona, it felt relatable for me lol( also it seems I have a type *cough* cat ears *cough*😂😂😂)
🍀What I loved about the anime were the whole mysteries, plot twists and how realistic the mc acts according to when these events are taking place. She isn’t trying to change the discrimination and the misbalance in power and basic rights between the different classes, she tried to avoid grabbing attention in order to survive but her curious nature and her wish to help people makes her fall deeper into the politics of the imperial life. I recommend to either watch the anime or the manga, it is a fun experience.
🍀I do have other ideas and I want to draw more from this anime! For now tho, my main focus will be to get something done for Nova’s birthday on 29th of April (same as my birthday so I wouldn’t forget it lol).
🍀For those of you who are wondering if I will start posting the LL comic, unfortunately that will have to wait. I have been busy irl and experienced my first proper burnout from art. Just started drawing again at the start of this month. I was getting frustrated with my art and how stuck I felt, which caused my burnout and also working for the comic felt more like a chore. So I started doing some figure drawings and drawing other characters I like or left an impression on me. I hope to come back with posting the LL comic during late summer at least, but no promises this time. My main focus is to learn and have fun with art this year, instead of following the 2024 goals I had in mind(which I failed following immediately lol).
🍀Either way, I hope you guys will still support me. I missed you and appreciate whoever is still sticking around. Thank you💕
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Lovely Runner, ep 4
This show just ripped my heart out in the first and last scenes that were from Sun Jae's perspective. We get the confirmation that he was the one who saved her. How it must have hurt for him to hear Sol saying he should have left her to die. He did remember her on the bridge in the future. I wonder if he connected what she said about being thankful for existing to what he said to Sol back then. Sun Jae wanted to take her home not only because he is genuinely nice person, but he because he wanted to spend more time with her after all those years. Sol gives him the candy and he is reminded of the first time she gave it to him.
I WAS A MESSSSS with scene.
I am also more firm that he did not commit suicide.
Sol figures out that she can change the future. I am also curious as to what Sun Jae felt he had to apologize for. Sol works out how to go back to the past.
I guess past/OG timeline Sol does not remember spending time with Sun Jae, which is why she tells her mom and grandma that she's lost chunks of her memories. I feel really bad for Sun Jae. Sol is confusing him terribly. Not totally on purpose but still confusing him.
What I find really interesting is Tae Sung is the only one who really gets that there are two Sols. Well, gets might not be quite the right word. But he's the only one who sees two different personalities. He instantly knew when 2023 Sol was back because he automatically called her grandma again. Some of that has to do with how 2023 Sol has been speaking to him. She talks to him very differently than anyone else. Still, he can separate the two Sols though I am not sure what he thinks about it. I genuinely like him.
I cannot believe Sol just talked her way into Sun Jae's house. The books knocking her out was a bit ridiculous (as was his dad somehow forgetting she was there). However I am willing to forgive that since we get the hand measuring scene that had me screaming into my hands. Then I was dying of laughter when he just up and rolled her up in a blanket, put her over his shoulder to get her our of the house without his dad knowing.
I am glad that Sun Jae told her to stop or try to draw some sort of boundary. I love how despite his frustration, he gave her his slippers. He's such a good person in all of this.
The taxi driver was really suspicious. My guess is that he has something to do with her accident and that it happened on that bridge. She's wearing her uniform in the first scene when Sun Jae saves her plus it happens a couple months from where we are currently in the timeline. Her falling in the water now and Sun Jae pulling her out must have triggered the memory from the accident.
And then we get the last scene where we find out that not only did Sun Jae know it was Sol on the phone, but he deliberately called her. Honestly, I feel almost like Sol in that I want to protect Sun Jae at ALL COST.
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PUNCH OUT OCSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
im finally taking up the courage to post my guys. Say hello!!!!!!
John 'The Eagle' Whacker! [the ref is outdated a bit.] 27. he/him!
Hes from New jersey, Trenton! and hes very proud of his country!!! USA BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
he is purposefully meant to look like a eagle!
You know that line aran ryan says, about little mac having cheeseburgers in his gloves? Thats exactly what john has in his gloves. sweaty greasy cheeseburgers. He still eats them, inbetween matches too! Docs first reactions to this in the intermissions for the first time is always an "ew..."
hes a little bit of a wimp despite thinking hes the #1 american man. his hair occasionally spikes up like a cat when he dodges your attacks!
considering him being an egg and not knowing hes transfem yet.. but thats for another post, hehe
https://toyhou.se/26347946.john-whacker-the-eagle
Blue jay! France, paris. shes 25! she/her
gabby jays daughter! a bit of a reckless [but fair] fighter. shes really competitive and became the champion of her circuit because of that.
shes johns gf [future wife.] both share the theme [and a love of] birds!
shes a redesign of an old oc from 2021:)
https://toyhou.se/26790872.blue-jay
Cesare Dracula! [usually just goes by The Dracula] from Transylvania, Rome. said to be hundreds of years old, hes in his 30s in human years. he/it
he speaks italian but also some english! [and other misc languages.] since hes met a lof of people over his lifetime who use many many diffrent languages.
he has bat wings tattooed onto his back, because he himself can transform into a little bat!
he was my first punch out oc:))
https://toyhou.se/26347826.cesare-dracula
and finally, Radio - Active. [he/it]
most of his information is unknown. but he speaks very little and mostly does ASL
most of his attacks are dance based, kinda like disco kid! but with a lot more kicking.
his face mask is hiding something. [facial deformity, if you knock it off of him he will be pissed.]
he doesnt know that nobody would mind much about it, hes just self conscious
he has so many infractions if you were to count them up [though they do not come close to aran ryans infraction count]
multiple tattoos!!!!!! he loves getting them
https://toyhou.se/26375708.radio-active
thas everybody:) i have a few that are still in the works, but these are the ones i have mostly polished up. make sure to check out their toyhouse pages too, because ill try to update them consistently! and add whatever drawings i make of them there, hehe
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All I can do to Keep you Safe is Hold You Close - 2,317 Words
A part of the collection I have fondly named 'Kaminoans are Assholes.'
Omega has been having trouble sleeping because of nightmares and her solution to that is to... not sleep. Hunter's Jango Fett gene has well and truly activated!
As always this fic is on my AO3 account here, and the link to my masterlist is here.
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The first time he had noticed something was wrong was when Omega started asking if she could drink caff in the mornings. Jokingly, Wrecker had let her have a sip of his, him and Echo laughing when they saw the expression on her face. She clearly hadn’t enjoyed the taste. When Tech had enquired as to why she had wanted to try the bitter drink, she had simply shrugged and said that there wasn’t really a reason.
That had been a lie.
Lying in front of Hunter was almost impossible; he could sense even the slightest of changes in a person’s body for crying out loud. To add to that, Omega was an awful liar, making it easy to spot from where he was sat. Glancing around the cabin, it didn’t seem as though any of the others had noticed this, although when he caught Crosshair’s eye he noticed an air of suspicion in his expression. He had noticed too.
The day had gone on as usual and Omega hadn’t asked any more about the caff… Hunter almost allowed himself to forget that she had even lied about wanting to drink it in the first place. She was a little girl, for crying out loud. She was full of energy and the last thing they needed was her pinging about the place before crashing in a heap when the affects ran out. That night, when he had put her to bed, tucking Lula and Trooper into her blankets with her, he had asked how she was. It had come out innocently enough, but clearly he had spooked her because almost straight away her barriers went up, and she was insisting that she was absolutely fine. Not knowing what to do if she didn’t want to talk to him, he had bid her goodnight and climbed back down the ladder from the gunner’s mount.
A week or so later it was becoming more and more apparent that Omega was exhausted. She kept falling asleep on missions at every opportunity she got to rest her legs, and it was getting to the point where Wrecker was having to carry her about. Sheer exhaustion rolled off of her in waves, and the rest of the batch were beginning to be more and more concerned for her wellbeing. She was their little sister… Hunter’s ad’ika (though he would never admit that to his brothers) she deserved to be happy and healthy like all little girls her age.
After one particular mission, Omega had collapsed in a heap in Cid’s bar; the loud music didn’t seem to bother her as she slept, drawing the attention of the Trandoshan.
“What’s with Tiny?” she asked, nodding her head towards the booth where she was resting. Hunter scowled, but that was more because he didn’t know the answer than because she was prying. He went to respond, but Tech stepped in.
“It would appear that Omega has… over done it on the past couple of missions,” he answered in a very reasonable tone. “She clearly needs to go to her bunk when we get back to the ship.”
Cid hadn’t said anything else following on from that, but Hunter could tell that she didn’t buy what Tech had told her, and that even she was concerned for the little girl. “Right…” she responded. “Well you see that she does get that sleep. I can’t have clients coming in thinking I let little kids pass out drunk in my bar.”
Omega had let Hunter scoop her up and carry her back to the ship, her head lolling on his shoulder as she wordlessly took in her surroundings. He had thought there and then that maybe he’d be able to get her into bed quickly when he got back to the Marauder…
He could not have been more wrong.
The moment he mentioned the ‘b’ word, Omega had perked up and started insisting that she wasn’t even remotely tired. “Can’t I just stay up for a little longer, Hunter?” she had asked, her big brown eyes trying to persuade him that he didn’t need to send her to bed. He had sighed, crossing his arms and trying to put on his best ‘dad’ face.
“You need sleep, Omega,” he reasoned as he reached into the gunner’s mount and pulled her pyjamas down. She pouted at him, and for a moment he was convinced that she was going to start crying.
“B-but…” she trailed, and Hunter could see an element of conflict on her features. She wanted to tell him something, he just knew it, but before she could get any words out Wrecker came parading into the room, a little tipsy. So much for talking to her.
"I’m sorry Omega,” he continued, watching her body deflate with disappointment. “I’m not budging on this one.”
She had gone to bed, but he had noticed how she tried to drag out every element of getting ready; she had taken nearly twenty minutes brushing her teeth for kriff’s sake. Looking back on that now, he should have seen just how reluctant she was to sleep and realised that something was wrong. He should have reached out to her.
Other abnormalities in her behaviour should have stuck out to him, and he found himself cursing for not noticing all of this sooner. Especially given what was about to come.
——
(Three Weeks Later)
There were plenty of times that Hunter cursed his enhanced hearing; being on a ship full of snorers when he was trying desperately to sleep was one of those times. As he lay in his bunk, all he could hear was the heavy breathing of Wrecker directly above him, and the light snores of Tech from his chair in the cockpit. He had ear buds for times like these, but whilst the noise irritated him to no end, not being able to hear made him feel vulnerable and he tried not to use them unless he absolutely had to.
Rolling over and resisting the urge to groan, he buried his face into the GAR standard issue pillow. It wasn’t exactly comfy, but being a solider meant that you had to be able to sleep anywhere. This lumpy pillow and hard bunk was a godsend compared to some of the situations he’d found himself in over the years. Distantly, he could hear the tapping of keys on some sort of device… it sounded a little like Crosshair’s data pad. Clearly he had joined Echo on watch then seeing as he couldn’t hear either of them anywhere else. They weren’t sleeping, that’s for sure.
Having Crosshair back had meant a little bit of adjusting for the members of the Bad Batch. For the first couple of days he had been incredibly isolated, not wanting to go near any of his brothers or even his little sister. Then, slowly, little by little he had started to integrate himself back into the lives of those who loved him. He had taken a shine to Omega, although he was loathed to show it to anyone except the little girl herself… now that Hunter thought about it, the only time he had seen Omega sleeping peacefully over the past few weeks was the morning she had been found in her bunk, clinging onto Crosshair’s sleeping form as though it was the only thing keeping her from floating out of the ship.
Hunter made a mental note to ask Crosshair about that in the morning, but his train of thoughts was cut off when he heard what sounded like a muted sob. Sitting bolt upright in bed and suddenly no longer tired, Hunter’s eyes darted around the room as he searched for the source of the sound. Not noticing anything out of the ordinary, he frowned, which deepened when he heard the sobbing sound a second time. Having been ready this time, he climbed out of bed and tiptoed towards the noise. Almost as though she could sense his presence, Omega’s snivels stopped as he reached the bottom of the ladder leading to her room.
“’Mega?” he asked quietly, not opening the curtain… he didn’t want to spook her or make her feel as though he was intruding on her space. There was silence for a moment before a quiet shuffling of blankets could be heard and a small hand reached to open the curtain.
Omega’s face was blotchy and red, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes puffy from her crying; how had Hunter not noticed her sooner? He cursed to himself, making a mental note to be more aware in the future. “H-Hunter,” a small sob escaped her as she launched herself at him without hesitating and clung to his neck.
To his credit, Hunter reacted quickly; he carefully scooped Omega out of the gunners’ mount, cradling her trembling form as he wondered quietly back to his bunk and sat down. The little girl still clinging onto him, he stroked a hand through her hair and whispered soothing nothings to her as he waited for her cries to subside.
When her breathing eventually did even out and the sniffles came to a stop, she looked up at him with a bleary look on her face. Kriff, she looked exhausted. How long had she been going on like this?
“Ad’ika,” his voice croaked as he used the term for the first time. Omega’s eyes widened at the expression, and if he didn’t know better he was convinced that she pulled him just a little closer. “Have you been struggling to sleep?”
Bingo. He’d hit the nail on the head it seemed, as the little girl in his arms cried even more.
“E-every time I close my eyes,” she sobbed. “I see something different and it’s horrible…” she took a shuddering breath. “I’ve been trying to stay awake at night so that the nightmares don’t come.”
Hunter let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You’ve gotta get sleep, ‘Mega,” he soothed as he kept stroking her hair.
“I’m so tired,” she mumbled as her tears slowly came to a stop, reduced to small hiccups now as she rested her head against his chest.
An idea occurred to him, something that he hadn’t done since he and his brothers were cadets, all cowering away and petrified of Nala se. “You could always stay here for the night,” he whispered, his suggestion catching her attention. She didn’t move to look at him but nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her new pyjamas (Crosshair had insisted that she have sleeping clothes, though he wouldn’t say why he had become so interested). Shifting carefully, he set her down on the bunk next to him and went to put his back against the wall to make more space for her.
That clearly wasn’t what she’d had in mind as Omega frowned slightly and clambered over him, putting herself between him and the wall. Hunter let out a small chuff of laughter as he rolled over, letting the little girl get comfortable; by the time the pair of them had stopped fidgeting, Omega was curled into Hunter’s embrace, the arm he draped over her clutched to her chest as she hugged it like it was Lula. The sergeant was a little uncomfortable, but any thoughts of that melted away as Omega whispered something that only he could hear.
“Goodnight, buir.”
He just managed to choke back the sudden wave of emotion that washed over him. That was… unexpected. Clearing his throat, he smiled softly at the little girl in his arms.
“Goodnight, ad’ika.”
————
A week or so later Hunter was lying in bed, reading off of his holo pad. Omega’s nightmares hadn’t stopped, of course they hadn’t, but knowing that she could go to her buir when the nightmares arrived made them that much easier to cope with. It meant that he’d had to contend with having Omega, Lula and sometimes even Trooper in bed with him but if that was the price he had to pay for the girl’s comfort? So be it.
Speak of the devil, a sniffle to his right caught his attention and he looked up only to see that Omega had snuck out of her bunk and to his bed. She looked at him with pleading eyes for only a moment before he lifted his blanket.
“Come on,” he whispered, allowing her to climb into the bed and to her usual spot between her buir and the wall. Her head rested on his chest as he continued tapping at the holo pad; he had been doing some research into a new knife he’d had his eye on, but turned that off in favour of a mind-numbing game he knew Omega enjoyed watching him play. It was a game where you had to match three blocks of the same colour in order for them to disappear and for the items trapped at the top of the screen to reach the bottom.
He thought the little girl had drifted off to sleep, but was proven wrong when a small hand reached out and tapped three blocks on the screen. Letting out a small laugh at her antics, Hunter pressed a gentle kiss to the girls’ temple before the pair continued playing the game together, taking it in turns. He knew they’d both be tired in the morning but they had nothing planned for the day, a little lay-in wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was in moments like these that he allowed himself to make the most of the normality of it all, in the vain hope that one day he’d be able to give his little girl the childhood she deserved.
“Love you, buir.”
“Love you too, ‘Mega.”
Yeah, he could definitely put up with sharing his bunk with his kid and her toys if it meant that he got to have moments like these.
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hi chat. pearl made me cry at 9:30 in the morning so y'all know what time is it. warning there will be swears [i say the f word ☹️] bc i haven't slept but i'm somehow not sick rn which. hasn't happened in weeks
[and a quick health update: pretty sure i have narrowed down what's making me sick to three possible things. i'm hopefully seeing my doctor soon bc the refill on my meds expires in june. we're so close and i haven't been able to breathe]
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OH MY GOD. Y'ALL. IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING ME AND SOMEHOW AREN'T A PEARL FAN. HOW ???? GO. GO BE A PEARL FAN. IT'S A THREAT
pearl is funny and kind and caring. there is a reason i gave her 10k bits the other day. she deserves the entire world and more. i don't know what the world did to her that made her so kind
i'm not the only one who has a message though !! here are a few messages from people but i've seen so many in reblogs and tweets and whatnot
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from my lovely partner tay aka twitter user PandoraRxse: I can’t catch streams very often but your videos always make me smile and I always look forward to a new upload. Keep doing what you’re doing, you’re amazing Pearl
from lovely twitter user SKYBL1NGS: shes like genuinely super funny and has great content that everyone can get into and shes really pretty and i loce pearlecentmoon
from a lovely anonymous twitter user: she is genuinly such an amazing artist, both in minecraft and in real life, all of her art is so lively in a way that i'm not sure how to describe best. also she is such a kind human being :))
from lovely tumblr user sapphicwhimsy: pearl is such a lovely and sweet person. shes SO kind to everyone in chat, new or old, and creates such a lovely environment to hang around in. her streams are the only ones i can sit through fully, and she has SUCH a lovely voice! i could listen to her read the dictionary, because im sure she would make it interesting. she has such a way to make everything interesting! even things like sitting still for thirty minutes can be something interesting in a pearl stream, because shes always got such amazing things to say. shes absolutely beautiful, inside and out, with a kind soul that matches her through and through. the fact that she always tries to read everyone out personally, and tries to pronounce their names correctly - and accepts corrections wholeheartedly - is so nice. and shes so wonderfully accepting to all of her community, and always has well wishes for everyone. shes truly a very wonderful and accepting person, who deserves the world! honestly the sweetest person ive ever came across.
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anyway onto the next part of why i made this post
HOW THE FUCK IS SHE SO PRETTY. WHAT. IT'S GENUINELY UNFAIR. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD BE A GODDAMN SCULPTURE
LIKE COME ON. I WISH I COULD DRAW SO I COULD DRAW HER. SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. WHAT THE HELL. LOOK AT HER
featuring other GORGEOUS women. my god. i am so
anyway :)) it took me an hour and a half to write this bc i kept getting distracted. in short. pearl is so amazing and wonderful. it's weird how she remembers things about me and actually cares ???
also. SHE PRONOUNCED MY NAME CORRECTLY ???? I'VE HEARD SUCH TERRIBLE PRONUNCIATIONS BUT PEARL. SHE SAID IT RIGHR FIRST TRY. WHAT. i kind of want to hear how karn would attempt to pronounce it
[bc yes. i'm okay with anyone, including streamers, calling me vyren. you know me better than my dad does. it's okay to call me vy, vyren, gasp, or gasps]
sleepy brain wrote this post and i want to say so much more but i can't. i had a better message when i did my 10k bits message but that thing is long gone. the only way pearl knows about those bits is if she sees this
and to her community: i love y'all. y'all are lovely. thanks for helping make my shitty life a little brighter. the world may not be kind to me, but y'all are. thank y'all for that. y'all are so lovely
pearl, if you see this, sending all the love to you and your three cats. and yes. karn is the third cat
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