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#this is the second time I spent a lot of time drawing a background for an image featuring Punk-Spider where the background is L.A. in this
zexapher · 2 days
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Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days
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They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.
The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.
You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.
This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).
Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.
The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.
Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.
Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.
Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!
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spigo-art · 6 months
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Punk-Spider and Hawkeye
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Just two superhero bros chillin' on a roof top staying five feet apart cuz they're not gay! Or wait- are they?
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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willowser · 6 months
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you had only to look at me—
part one.
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bakugou x f!reader
wc: 7.4k+
tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.
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even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.
this is a repost.
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you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.
he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.
the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.
it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.
and it's — fucking annoying.
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at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.
and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.
you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:
i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️
it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?
if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.
you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot
unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.
three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.
except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.
and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.
his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.
three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.
none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.
because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."
suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.
there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.
"what?"
he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.
in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."
a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.
"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"
you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.
you shrug. "didn't feel like it."
he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"
"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"
his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."
now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"
he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.
the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.
alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.
that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.
your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.
does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.
"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."
"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"
he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.
bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.
you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.
his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.
"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.
you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.
standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.
"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."
it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.
bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."
"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.
detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"
your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"
"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"
"you're saying there's no one else that can—"
"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"
things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.
"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."
bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.
you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.
it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?
is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?
this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?
how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.
what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.
furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.
but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.
the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?
it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.
clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.
"since when are they talking again?"
just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.
"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."
bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 
"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"
"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"
his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."
"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"
bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"
"you're watching it right now."
"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”
you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”
“so? got a hot date or what?”
he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 
finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.
it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”
silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”
“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”
“so why didn’t you?”
“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”
“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”
the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.
“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”
“jesus, if i always do this—”
“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.
he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."
"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"
it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.
"you're gonna blow my head off!"
"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"
"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.
"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.
"yeah, well—"
"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.
all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.
you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.
bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.
your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.
fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.
he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.
it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.
only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.
you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.
the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.
katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"
being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —
"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"
and then you are kissing your best friend.
the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.
katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.
it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.
with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.
you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.
it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.
in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —
not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.
"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."
his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.
he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"
"have you?"
he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."
you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"
before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.
he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.
"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."
the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."
you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.
or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.
"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"
the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.
it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."
for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.
determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.
heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.
this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.
"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."
to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.
at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.
he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.
discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?
"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.
deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.
it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.
"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.
katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.
he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.
this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —
"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.
everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.
tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.
"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"
"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."
he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.
"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."
and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.
you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.
it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.
then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.
the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"
and you're annoyed all over again.
"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."
"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"
"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."
"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."
"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"
and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.
when he was losing you, you realize.
"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."
"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"
you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.
"you can't—"
"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."
you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.
there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.
the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."
tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —
he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.
"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.
not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.
the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.
when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.
you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 
"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."
"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."
"sorry i'm late."
"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.
you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.
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lurkingshan · 1 month
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Japanese QL Corner
It's a quieter week as a few shows have just wrapped and the next wave hasn't started yet, but there is still Japanese ql airing, including what is shaping up to be an all time fav. Both of these current airing shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!
Love is Better the Second Time Around
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This show is so good, and so mature in exactly the way I hoped. And I don't mean mature as in explicit--there is sex in this show but it's not some wild heat level. It's mature in that it's a story about characters who know themselves, know what they want, and draw boundaries. Both Iwanaga and Miyata are going down as favorite characters for me; I especially love that Miyata is a more knowing and self aware spin on a really well known bl archetype (think Rain from LITA but if he actually knew exactly why he was reacting the way he was to Payu and was mad about it instead of just overwhelmed and confused). This week we got a lot deeper into his teenage hurt over Iwanaga and now have a firm understanding of why he's alternately giving into and resisting this attraction. I am looking forward to Iwanga figuring out how to repair the damage he caused and earn his trust back.
My Strawberry Film
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This was easily my favorite episode so far of this meandering little show. Every week I am left wondering what exactly this drama is trying to say and be; it certainly doesn't feel like a bl. We have spent the vast majority of our time on doomed het romance while Ryo quietly pines for his oblivious friend in the background. But this week we finally got to know Minami outside of Hikaru's narrow gaze, and I like her a lot. Her scene with Ryo where they discussed their romantic woes and established each other as a safe zone was very sweet, and showed how perceptive she is about all these dynamics happening around her. I was discussing with @bengiyo whether the show is going for an aromantic read with her, and I'm not sure. I see the makings of it, but the presentation of her feelings on romance feels a bit muddled. I loved her calling Hikaru out on being self-centered and having absolutely no patience for his petty jealousy. Hikaru thinks he likes her, but he doesn't actually know her (or his own best friend). I liked the final scene between Ryo and Hikaru as well, and the terrible angst of Ryo's confession that he immediately took back. The way the lights and audio from oncoming traffic played over his face in that scene was a really fantastic way to communicate both a moment of clarity and a moment of fear in the aftermath. I'm curious to see where this show takes the ending; a romantic conclusion for the two boys would not feel genuine to me at this point, but I could see them leaving us on a note of burgeoning curiosity and hope.
Bonus: No Touching At All
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I recently watched this 2014 jbl on @twig-tea's recommendation, and I really loved it (I have already watched it twice and will definitely be doing so again). This is a classic office romance between a young gay man, Shima, and his "straight" boss, Toga. It's a simple story but well executed, and the film has a strong sense of place that I really loved. Shima and Toga have a fairly instantaneous attraction, and Toga is the kind of laidback character who simply never gave much thought to his sexuality and doesn't care about the fact that Shima is a man; he likes who he likes. Shima, however, is carrying a lot of internalized homophobia and trauma from closeted men messing him around in the past, and has a hard time believing in Toga's sincerity. I really love the way this conflict plays out in the story, and I especially love the way Toga talks to Shima. He's a no bullshit kind of guy and he tries his best to reassure Shima, but he's not a pushover, either. Ultimately Shima has to work through his own insecurities and make the choice to be brave to make the relationship work. The ending of this one is amazing and left me feeling very confident in this couple, and I can't recommend it highly enough. It's the grey for this one, unfortunately, but if you have trouble finding it in HQ let me know and I'll point you (don't watch it on YT, the version on there is potato quality).
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christinarowie332 · 6 months
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“parasite” chris sturniolo x reader
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warnings: lots of swearing, gruesome imagery??idfk . suggestive ?
toxic situation ship between reader and chris ….
____________________
parasite .
your phone lights up for the seventeenth time in the last 5 minutes .
"just fuck off man" you whisper to nobody as your phone is flipped over with an exasperated sigh.
exactly 7 minutes ago you got an instagram tag from some random kids account . ignoring the name of the account your eyes flicker over the first few lines in the caption , you pick up on "chris sturniolo" and "girlfriend" along with "public kiss" . your eyebrows furrow and make a home over your now searching eyes and parted lips . your heart drops once again once you click on the actual post with shaking hands .
It's him . your chris . your chris with a girl who looks nothing like you , the exact opposite . She's beautiful . Her jawline is almost drawn in , a sharp angle which blends perfectly into his , as one of his hands holds the side of her waist the other placed on her throat . He's kissing her . your fucking chris . you leave absolutely no time to grieve . as fast as the tears pooled in your eyes you blinked them away . you tilted your head upwards and took a deep breath , exhaling a fast quick one, laughing in disbelief . you shook your head to yourself and straightened your back before sending the post to Chris himself .
"cute thing to find out over instagram chris" you added with the post .
realistically , he isnt your chris . yes you have been seeing each other for months , but you have never once said your together . he says "i'm just not ready baby" "cmon y/n , you know it's not like that , your the only one i want , i'm just not ready yet"
fucking dick
That takes us to now . you sit with your knees to your chest, your deep breaths forcing your breasts to be slightly squashed under the pressure as your lungs rise and fall . The blanket holding you is the only comfort you feel staring at the floor .Holding your vape weaving it between your fingers and flipping it around in your hand . you blink out of your trance at the sound of your phone vibrating next to you . you tightly close your eyes , feeling a slight vibration in your forehead at the hard tension . you open your eyes again and grab your phone which is displaying a call . "dickhead <3" .chris . I went to answer the call before hesitating for a second to take a deep breath .
"i dont wanna hear shit from you chris" you say before even getting phone to your ear
"y/n thats not me bro , i swear to god" he whines out slightly , desperation in his voice clear .
you let out a dry chuckle and roll your eyes , " fucking liar bro , I SAW THE FUCKING PHOTO CHRIS." you exhale a shaky breath and wait for his response .
your left with only silence , hearing him breathe and the distant faint bass in the background .
"not ready my fucking ass , seven months chris . seven months i have wasted , i can't believe you . seven fucking months i have waited for you . seven months i have spent falling in love with you , while you were fucking-" you cut your self off , realising you have absolutley no idea what he has been doing . your bottom lip quivers slightly before you purse them together , biting down hard enough to draw blood .
"im sorry" after a few seconds of silence he finally replies . his voice slightly gruff and hourse .
"fuck you" you say before ending the call and trowing in to the other side of the sofa . it slides under a pillow slightly .
the moment your phone isn't in view . the knot in your chest finally snaps , you feel your heart finally snap and the remaining hope for him go with it .Your chest shakes in the same motion as you sob . fingers that were harshly digging through layers of sweaty skin in your palm make their way to your hair , pulling so hard it could snap . The nausea comes back , turning your stomach like the seasons over a too familiar seven months .
it's only when you hear the front door open do you get up from your pit in the sofa curled up into yourself . you turn your body still sat, feeling confusion and fear in equal parts . your heart rapidly starts beating, enough to snap a rib . you try and take a breath as you stare at the door frame , expecting the worse , said breath gets caught as you hear soft steps approaching you , your eyes widen as you search around your now messy living room . searching for a weapon, or your phone , your eyes scan the room rapidly , grabbing a candle that was sitting on a coffee stained table .
"y/n?" you hear his voice before you see him . His hair is wet , along with his shoulders and upper arms , turning his light grey sweatshirt into a messily patterned sight . his eyes soften as he sees you . searching your expression . Then his eyes flicker to the candle raised in the air , furrowing his wet eyebrows , tilting his head in confusion before curling his lips into a shy smirk.
"a candle ? really?" he says, widening his smirk and taking a step towards you .
he stops in his tracks as you take a step back from him , lowering the candle and throwing it softly on the couch .
"i need you to hear me out , y/n i-"
"Why are u here" you say blankly . " i'm pretty sure i was clear that i was done with you"
his eyebrows twitch at your words , hurt and sadness very evident on his face . his shoulders relax and head tilts slightly .
"I told you it wasnt me . I meant it . I meant everything I said . everything i have done and said . I meant it ."
your eyes search for a lie in his eyes . you find none. What you do find is guilt .
"meant what chris ? what have I meant to you . a fuck buddy? a friend? a fan? please tell me because i dont fucking understand !" your voice which was once cautious and small slowly grows louder , stepping closer to him yelling . "please fucking tell me what it means . who the fuck am i to you !"
his face which was once soft and understanding turned and twisted into a gruesome one . His soft kind features turning sharp like his jawline , which flashes as he turns away from you .
The warm lighting in the room grows colder . The cold aching in your fingertips soothes the burning in your cheeks as you run your hands over your face in exhaustion . as your face is covered by your hands you miss as he swings his body towards you and steps just inches away from you . grabbing your face in his hands and forcing you to look up at him . your eyes scan his eyes franticly , looking between his unreadable one . it's there u see him soften and his eye twitch before taking a deep breath , anxiety poisons the air between you as he moves the hair from your face with his hands.
"look, y/n , you are what i want , i know that , i've always knew that .im just scared ."
it feels as if with just his words , he plunged his hand into your chest. through your cracked and broken rib cage , destroyed by months of deep breaths , your lungs abusing their cage. it was like he managed to find the exact places he broke just hours ago, and with a few words and found his way back home . all he had to do was throw a few words in your face and he stitched up the body of the girl he managed to destroy .
his hands trailed down your arms until they held your wrists . soft manacles seem to click around the space he holds.
"i want you chris , nobody else,, I want you to want me." you say looking him in his eyes , your voice soft and quiet
he trails one finger up your arm , looking at the goosebumps that trail his touch like a shadow until he rests his hand softly around the side of your neck . with this he puts a hand on the crook of your back and inches closer.
his wet hair drips on you forehead as he kisses you . his hands slowly moving up and down your body soothing your aches before they settle on your face , holding you as he deepens the intimacy . your hands ghost over his hands and rest on top of them .
calling him a parasite would be wrong, especially when the host welcomes the symbiosis .
_____________________
HEHEHEHHEHEEHE
i love angst sm bro
——————
tag list meow 🫖
@mangosrar @sturnphilia @lividnity @biimpanicking @bluesturniolo333 @jcwrites-blog @littlebookworm803
jus for funnnnnnn
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amhrosina · 1 year
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Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)
A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!
Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee. 
Word Count: 3.7k
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Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another. 
(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol) 
“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.  
“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.” 
“I’m an accountant.”  
Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad. 
“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded. 
“I jog sometimes.” 
“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?” 
Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you. 
“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”  
You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder. 
“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.” 
You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.  
You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring. 
“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?” 
“Hey! How was the date?”  
Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.  
“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?” 
“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.  
“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?” 
“I’m at Josie’s, but-” 
“Great. I’m on my way.”  
You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.  
Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. 
“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.  
Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to. 
“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.” 
“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.” 
“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.” 
“How do you know, though?”  
“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”  
Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?” 
Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.” 
Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.” 
“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.” 
Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.  
“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?” 
“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged. 
“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.” 
“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.  
“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.” 
Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.  
Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place. 
You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.  
You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.  
“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group. 
“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.” 
You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy. 
“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.  
“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!” 
You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets. 
“Did you plan this?”  
The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.  
“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.” 
You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.  
There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.  
“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare. 
“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both. 
“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently. 
“You know what I mea-” 
“Come home.”  
There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other. 
“Billy, I-” 
“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.  
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.  
“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side. 
“You know why.”  
He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.  
“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.” 
The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit. 
When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit. 
“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.  
When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again. 
“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.  
“Which one?” 
“How’ve you been?” 
“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.” 
He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.  
“Heard your date didn’t go well.” 
You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.  
“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.” 
Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face. 
“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.” 
“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. 
“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling. 
“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.” 
Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.  
“You left first.”  
It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles. 
You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.  
“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait. 
“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.” 
He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest. 
“Well then, what the fuck happened?”  
“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth. 
Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.  
“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.  
“You’re not leaving, are you?”  
There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder. 
“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.” 
“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.” 
“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.  
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 
You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his. 
“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.  
“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.” 
“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that. 
“Tom’s getting married.” 
Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?” 
“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.” 
You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night. 
“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.” 
“It’s what you deserve.” 
“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?” 
“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.” 
Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. 
“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?” 
You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.  
“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.  
“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?” 
You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.  
“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses. 
“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month. 
He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you. 
Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.  
“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.  
“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.” 
He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait. 
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Could I get an Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that finds out they used to eat a lot of weird creatures and monsters.
I may be obsessed with delicious in dungeon, but like maybe Mc got to try dragon meat and realized that despite it being an 'exotic' food, it tastes familiar. Only gets more surprised. The more weirder foods they end up trying that rnd up tasting familiar.
The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC eats monsters
Julian
From a scholarly point of view, he's actually quite interested in learning more and documenting your finds as medical research
Who knows what medicinal properties these creatures might contain that have gone previously ignored? You could find some miraculous cure or random medicine if you keep snacking your way through the monstrous ecosystem!
Then again, he'd be lying if he said that practice was just as easy as theory. He's pretty well traveled himself, but some of the things you seem so eager to dig into are just ... so ... off-putting
He'll push through with most things but he will draw the line at anything resembling a plague beetle. He was force-fed one of those once and he never wants to experience that again
(he'd never try to keep you from making your own decisions, but to say that watching you eat things resembling plague beetles doesn't turn his stomach and make him anxious would be a lie)
Still one of the best researchers you could have helping you
He's got the background to understand physical nutrients and the importance of a diverse diet - and he's plenty dedicated to you
Asra
They are even more enthusiastic than you are
Sometimes you wish you knew what his limits were, because if things keep going at the rate that they are you might find out that he doesn't even have any
Faust is not helping either - she can and will help distract you if you've finally come across something you're hesitant to try so Asra can sneak a mouthful without being caught
On the plus side, they've tried so many different cuisines already that they have plenty of ideas when it comes to figuring out how to cook something new - and spice combinations you wouldn't dare dream of on your own
He also happens to have plenty of tried-and-true remedies for food poisoning as well (wonder why he learned all of those ...) and is more than happy to share with you if things go south
Absurdly creative with the whole cooking process in general
Keeps trying to incorporate magic. This does occasionally backfire when the beast being cooked is also magical by nature, and the two don't mix as intended
Nadia
She's politely unconvinced, but still mildly invested
Is she personally interested in trying all manner of unconventional dishes? Sure, if it's a well-established recipe from a trustworthy source and contributes to her cultural education
Your recipes, darling MC, do not cleanly fit into that category
She'll still try some, but only after you've been able to replicate the dish multiple times to the point that it's reliably delicious and safe to eat. Otherwise, she'll happily pass her portion to you
However, once you do find a creature that can be reliably cooked as part of a nutritious diet, she is all ears
Do you know what the state of Vesuvia is right now? Any new food source is a welcome food source, especially if it's a resource that isn't being tapped into otherwise. Tell her more about its properties
Will work with you and other nutritionists, chefs, and civil engineers to find a way to introduce it to the populace so they can take advantage of it
Who knows? Maybe if it's popular enough, it can be purposefully cultivated and turned into a major food export ...
Muriel
Not remotely surprised by your habits, for multiple reasons
For starters, he spent his teens living with Asra. In the woods. Who do you think came up with all those natural remedies for food poisoning??? Not the kid picking every mushroom they saw!
Second of all, he lives off of the land himself. The reason his grocery list is so short is because he's learned to find most of his sustenance in the woods around him. You're just doing the same
Third of all (and most importantly) - if it's food, it's food. It's that simple
Will eat anything you hand him as soon as he knows it won't poison him, no hesitation in sight and no further questions asked
His only concern about the whole thing is sustainability. He knows firsthand what happens when something throws the delicate balance of an ecosystem out of whack and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen on accident because you're new to it
Never really stops to appreciate any of the good flavors at first, but eventually develops a palette for the different spices
Insanely good at assessing what kind of nutrients it'll have
Portia
Being an excellent chef herself, she doesn't see much point in eating mostly monster food once the initial excitement has worn off. It was fun for several meals, but now she wants bread
This does not change her general fascination with monsters or magical beasts in general, though, or her overall interest in helping you on your special monster cuisine endeavors
Share the monster facts - all the monster facts
Will work with you on putting together notebooks full of information on monster behaviors, nutritional values, hunting and preparation methods, and ideal flavor profiles
Unrivaled at giving good cooking advice. The meat's good to eat, but too tough? Marinate it in something acidic
It's too spongy to be a starch, but too starchy to be a vegetable? Try roasting or grilling it plain and putting sauce on top
Knows all about how to maximize the "scraps" so that nothing edible goes wasted, and knows how to do it in a way that still tastes good and fills you up
Curious enough to try most of it, smart enough to avoid poisoning
Lucio
Okay, okay, so he'll admit it - he does get squeamish (just a little bit) at the thought of eating the monsters that tried to kill him earlier and he's not particularly fond of revisiting the "eat or be eaten" mentality that was instilled in him as a small child
That said, he is curious
And he very much enjoys all the hunting (and bounties!) involved
You're telling him that he gets to chase down a rare beast, enjoy the thrill of conquering it and the bragging rights that entails, get paid for disposing of it, and then get a free meal after he forgets about it for a couple hours? Sign him up!
Just, uh. Just don't remind him what exactly he's eating if it's from one of the grosser monsters. Devouring a deadly ancient boar? Awesome! Devouring a worm monster? ... yeah, don't ruin it
Has no issues with putting more resources into what you're trying to do. It means free food, bragging rights about killing and eating monsters, and dinner not getting dull and boring
Will not-so-subtly feed anything he doesn't like to Mercedes and Melchior when he thinks you can't see him
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zorosjuicymelonsx · 3 months
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Finding You
A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first One Piece fanfic. I haven't written in a while, a lot of shits happened and mental health is not to be messed with.
This is a slow, romance burn (there will be smut later on) however in the meantime do enjoy the fluff and attempt at humour. I will let you guys know before in the notes if I need to add any warnings don't worry!
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Chapter One Next
With another corrupt government taken down and its people freed from tyranny and hardship, the Straw Hats sailed their way through the New World off on their next adventure. It was a normal day for the crew, Luffy leaned back comfortably on the head of Sunny, soaking in the hot sun beaming down as he gazed over the sea filled with excitement. Sanji fawned over Nami and Robin as they casually sunbathed on their lawn chairs, the scent of tangerine wafted around them while sipping on the cool drinks the cook had put his love into making. Brook, Franky and Usopp were sitting at a round table on the ship near the girls under an umbrella, Chopper suffering through the heat as he laid on Jinbei’s cool lap watching the guys play cards to take his mind off the sweltering heat. 
“Oi, that's cheating Brook you can’t hide your cards in your ribs.’’ Usopp stood up accusingly pointing at Brook annoyed, the skeleton giggled behind his palm and pulled out a stack of cards he had indeed been hiding in his ribs. 
“That's SUPER uncool bro”. Franky threw his cards down and picked up his iced cola to sip on. 
“YOHOHOHO, that game was truly rib tickling.” Brook laughed at himself and gathered all their cards to reshuffle whilst hearing unanimous groans from the others to prepare for the next game that he promised he wouldn’t cheat again. 
Zoro comfortably leaned back against the beam of the ship, sweat dripping down his chest with his eye closed trying to drown out the noise of the crew in the background. He spent the day in search of an answer as to why he’d been feeling on edge since he woke up this morning. The air was calm around the ship, Nami noted no upcoming changes to the weather and his haki couldn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary that would pose a danger to the crew. 
“Oi cook, come here for a second”. Zoro called gruffly for Sanji, the cooks hip swerving at the ladies came to a halt and became visibly irritated from being disturbed.  
“Can’t you see I'm busy shitty swordsman?” Sanji bit back but nonetheless reluctantly walked away from Nami’s side and gave a ‘what’ expression to Zoro once he stood before him. 
“Do you feel anything…off around you?” Zoro questioned, the cook clearly confused by what the swordsman was asking him. 
“Has the moss on your head finally seeped into your brain?” Sanji asked back, Zoro opened his eye to deadpan at the cook, regretting asking him. If the cook wasn’t going to take him seriously, at least Zoro knew he was always prepared for the worst to come. 
‘Maybe I just need some booze.’ He thought to himself.
“Nevermind, I don’t even know why I even bother with you.’’ Zoro said back, about to close his eye only to sense a kick approaching his head, quickly drawing Wado from his stilt to block the attack. 
“Wasting my precious time over your stupid-” the cook couldn’t finish his sentence before the ship began to rumble. The rumbling abruptly stopped after a few seconds, a large hole began to grow out of the deck of the ship. The hole appeared as swirled white smoke with stars glittering in it. The hole had now been fully formed. The swordsman and cook moved into position to defend the ship as they were the closest to the hole. Luffy jumped from his place to stand with Zoro and Sanji, clearly not worried but beamed with excitement as he gawked over the mysterious hole. 
As the rest of the crew quickly gathered around the hole, all ready for the worst to come out of this hole…a small hand shot out from the smoke, flayling trying to find grip around the hole onto the ship. The hand found grip on the edge of the hole, one hand became two hands on the edge, hauling themselves out of the hole to crawl to then lay on the floor of the ship. 
“Wow look, it’s a woman!” Luffy said the obvious, smiling widely at the mysterious woman who laid on her side on his ship, her face appeared fatigued. 
You were huffing in and out trying to catch your breath again, feeling sweat dripping down your back. Your breathing eventually evened out, finding the energy to open your eyes to observe where in the world you had stumbled into. Finding the faces of the concerned strangers staring at you, a small “shit” came out of your mouth as you scrambled to pull yourself up into a seated position, taking off your backpack and what appeared to be a dark green sword attached to it. 
“Excuse me, I do apologise for disturbing you. Where am I?” You smiled up at everyone as you asked politely, the crew members looked at each other clearly seeing that you were not dangerous, dropping their defences and gazing at you with wonder. 
“Oh what a beautiful lady you are, I’m Sanji your savi-” Sanji started walking forward to you, beaming with hearts in his eyes about to work his usual ladies-man routine before he was pushed back by Luffy. 
“You’re on my ship in the New World. Hi I’m Luffy and I’m going to be King of the Pirates.” Luffy happily said as he grabbed your hand and shook it aggressively, you looked at him and started looking at each individual in front of you until your eyes laid upon a familiar green-haired man while he was putting his sword away. Your smile dropped as you gasped, slowly standing up and started walking towards the swordsman, the others were confused by your actions. You eventually stood in front of him, your eyes glossed over and a small whimper came out of your mouth. 
“It's you…I’ve finally found you.” You quietly spoke, everyone suddenly looking at Zoro who had become the centre of attention. Zoro finally looked up from his swords to face you. What happened next clearly brought everyone out of their confused state as you slammed yourself into Zoro to hug him tightly. Sanji had visibly died at the display of affection from you.
“Oi, what are you doing?” Zoro said gruffly, not returning your hug, his arms were raised to not touch you.
“I spent so long looking for you, you have no idea how happy I am right now.” You said sobbing, tears falling from your face as you felt the relief flood in. 
“I don’t even know who you are and you’re touching me like this” Zoro angrily stated.
“Y-you don’t remember me?” You looked up at him concerned, the weight of his words crushing into your heart. 
Robin started to walk towards you from the others to ask the obvious question everyone had on their mind. 
“I see you know our swordsman, do you mind me asking who you are?” Robin asked. You turned your head to the side at the new sound to make eye contact with the woman standing by your side. You could sense her gentle nature, you offered a small smile before clearing your throat to speak.
“My name is Y/N Roronoa and this is my husband.”
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emerxshiu · 1 month
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FORGOTTEN LAND'S SECOND ANNIVERSARY :3
I AM SOOOO BACK
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I started this drawing yesterday around afternoon and finished it just a few minutes earlier.
I went with a messier type of drawing instead of more clean like the elfilin one from yesterday, i find it fun doing it like this, mostly cause i dont have to worry about making it perfectly so i dont get as frustrated as normal. Id place this one as my second best digital drawing. im pretty sure i havent posted what i consider my best digital drawing here, tho i do have it in instagram, i might post it here one day, tho these two are way too tied up, i love how this came out, its not exactly like how i imagined it but its really close to it, and also itd say that since i dont tend to play around lighting that much, this was such a joy to draw and i cant help but stare at it a lot, at least until i start hating it because i made quite a lot of errors. i also changed my elfilis gijinka just a tad bit from last time, but its not that big of a difference, mostly.
ofc i had to draw elfilis for forgotten land's anniversary, i tend to deny it in my head but yeah they're my fave of the kirby characters even tho i hate them a bit. I wanted to draw some more doodles, like, elfilis eating cake, kirby car, a bunch of other stuff (not elfilin cuz i already drew him yesterday) but when i tried i couldnt draw anything more, guess this drawing burned me out a lot, huh?
you can definitly tell i spent all the efforts on him cuz if you look a bit closer to the bottom part you'll see its almost barely detailed, but i mean, they're the focus so make sense i guess for me not add that much detail there. um also, maybe because i dunno i had OVER 130 LAYERS jeez no wonder firealpaca was slowing down so much, i need to manage my layers better next time, tho i did do something i keep forgetting, wich is naming them (most of them at least) that was a real life saver
Also, antares (fecto elfilis' spear/cadaceus), as always, was a pain to draw, but this time its probably been draw the most accurate out of every other drawing ive made with it in it, i didnt notice it was like, a little curved when it reached the blade
some close ups since his face is a bit hard to see
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silly :3
fun fact! actually, this is technically a redraw, somewhere around between february and march i started a fecto elfilis drawing for the first anniversary, but i couldnt finish it in time, and i never finished it
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thats...quite the improvement! (i remember being so proud of it)
also his wings are like that cuz i did not want to draw the pattern, its way too hard, i literally copy pasted it, wait, i was talking about the 2024 version but i looked at the 2023 one and i just noticed it also has the pattern copy pasted, i guess some stuff never changes since i still abuse the ctrl+c ctrl+v to this day
Also i ended up making a huge error there, i was planing to add the phantom spears from orbital pulsar (the attack he does first when you battle them at lab discovera) but theres an innacuracy, when they do the attack, they always close their eyes, i had actually sketched him (well i mean both these drawings are basically the first sketch (2023) or second sketch(2024) with some color, shadows and lighting. i didnt do lineart in the 2024 one cuz i wanted to be a bit like the og i made (too bad i sketched that one with black since the og was sketched with white due to me drawing the bg first)) with his eyes closed but them decided to make them open for a reason i cant remember, maybe i thought itd look nicer? idk
ive had the idea of redrawing this for quite some month now so it was kinda already planned
background cuz i think it came out really pretty
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doesnt have the little stars since without elfilis and the structures it looks fucked up. the actual sky in game is more blue, but the clouds have some orange, in the 2023 ver. i made the sky orange, and in the 2024 ver i wanted it more accurate, but i didnt wanna loose the orange sky, so i did a gradient. pretty...
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also here's a screenshot i took when i was like halfway trough it, its barely noticeable but i changed his mouth in the final drawing
I really love katfl, like a buncha whole lot, its basically almost my first mainline kirby game. 100% the demo, finished the game in almost one day, i literally play it monthly, like, every month i put the card in my switch, start it up, get morpho sword, and go shred elfilis in lab discovera. i would probably not even be here on tumblr and the kirby fandom if it werent for it. and i love it so much i genuinly cannot express how much i like it and treasure it with words or anything
Thank you for reading my unnecesarily long rambles lol
I hope i'll post tomorrow and dont forget like usual
Jambuhbye!
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hermitcraft-shifter · 1 month
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I have so many feelings about the Moon Crash. Like, narrative-wise, it hits me so hard, man. Joe told Cleo to leave them, yes, but the sign... It's intriguing to imagine it as a test that Cleo failed.
I mean, Joe's been there from the beginning. It's reasonable to assume that they've seen many people leave and it's reasonable to assume that there could be a insecurity (/rp) there about it. With the context that Hermitcraft is real life, Joe might be scared (at least subconsciously, no matter how irrational) that people are leaving because of them, that— despite no evidence —there're 'not enough' for people to stay... which leads to Joe being reckless and using the Moon Crash to test to see if Cleo would leave them in a clearly dangerous situation.
And they failed, not because Cleo didn't understand it was dangerous, but because Cleo trusts Joe. Cleo trusted Joe, even when they didn't want to, even when Joe really just wanted their support.
In Hermittopia, did Joe even know they could go back if things got dangerous, that Cleo exiled them— yes, because they were being a little dumb and self-destructive (because who hands out resumés to clearly dangerous people and steals a horn license without being a little self-destructive?) but also —for the bit? Like, narrative-wise, Cleo's actions could be interpreted as both a messed up joke and an urge for Joe to take some time to think.
Joe, as a character, is as kind as they are reckless, especially with their own health, and as a character, liberties can be taken with how their actions and behaviour reflect on themself in a 'Minecraft is real life' context. Yes, Hermits helping Hermits is very sweet, but when you literally live in a trash can that you even struggled to find a place for because nobody left room for you after you spent so long helping someone, only for them to thank you and leave everything behind like it was a stepping stone, after your team had been forgotten and left out of closing ceremony without a second thought until it was too late... and that whole permit thing with Doc...
I have a lot of feelings and thoughts, as you can see.
Narratively speaking, Joe gives and gives and gives— They give so much and seem content to fade into the background, be taken for granted (well, that's exaggerating, but when you're always pushing yourself to give so much, it's normal to feel bitter, even when you're the one pushing yourself to do it). It's ok to want attention, of course. Joe thrives on attention, but without proper communication, it can fall flat quickly. Humiliation can help one learn, and as a content creator, Joe knows what they signed up for. As a character? That's free game.
A decade is a long time, after all, and it's certainly enough time for miscommunication to happen. In a game, it's not so bad, but when that game is real life?
Well, that's the fun of storytelling!
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[Image ID: A digital drawing of joehillssays and ZombieCleo from Hermitcraft on a white background. joehillssays' face is shown being held up and squished by ZombieCleo, and has a shell shocked expression while tears are being wiped away. ZombieCleo's face is obscured and has a distant expression. 'I trust you. I don't want your trust. I want your support.' is written in the top left corner. /.End ID]
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project-reaper · 3 months
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Moving forward into 2024!
I haven’t really had a proper chance to say Happy New Years, so this will have to suffice, with a little breakdown of what’s been going on and what’s to come!
WHAT I'VE BEEN UP TO
I’ve been spending the better part of the last year working on new projects and endeavors. Both with Time Gate and outside of it. From vendoring at markets and working expo’s for the first time to working on art pieces completely outside of Time Gate, 2023 was a hell of a year and it makes me all the more hyped for 2024. That said, I’ve been carrying a weight with me through 2023 that’s made it difficult to enjoy it to the fullest - the weight of knowing that [AFTERBIRTH] is still on hiatus.
This isn’t the longest hiatus that I’ve been on, but it’s certainly starting to approach the record and I wanna get it back on track. Like getting back in shape after spending an entire winter hibernating and eating nothing but junk food, getting back into drawing [AFTERBIRTH] on a schedule is gonna be a process of rebuilding good habits and learning what I can do better to keep those habits alive and well.
The fortunate side to taking hiatuses is that it always does give me a new sense of perspective. In this case, I learned that I put myself through a lot at the start of [AFTERBIRTH]’s production. Like, way more than I realized. At the time I thought I was super capable - and I am! - but now in hindsight I can recognize it wasn’t healthy or sustainable for me to manage that sort of output all on my own. I’m still grinding away at comics like I always do with those other projects I’ve mentioned, but it’s still nothing near the amount of work I put myself through just to meet my own deadlines with [AFTERBIRTH]. I also have this thing called help now in the form of a background artist who’s been working with me on those other projects, which has been an amazing and enriching experience.
Having that time away from [AFTERBIRTH] not only gave me the breathing room I needed to recuperate from the burnout I got myself into, but also got me out of the routines I had stuck myself into, which has given me some new tricks and skills that I’m really hyped to bring back into Time Gate with me.
This does, in a way, mean that I’ve had to really reflect on Time Gate, a lot. It’s a project I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and drawing as a webcomic since I was around 18-19. It’s changed a lot in that time, but I’m finding while a lot of those changes have been reflected in the comic as it is, there are still so many more I want to make - because like the comic, I’ve changed a lot, too, both as an artist and as a person, and considering Time Gate’s always been a sort of personal extension of myself, I no longer resonate with a lot of parts of it that I’ve since outgrown. It’s not so much that I want to hide or take for granted those parts of it that are ‘uglier’, but I want the writing and art to be expressed in the best way it can be because at the end of the day, I’m trying to tell a coherent story that’s enjoyable to read and experience. I’m also the sort of person who learns best by just getting their hands dirty and learning what not to do, and boy, have I spent a lot of years doing just that through Time Gate.
GOING FORWARD
So, going forward, I’ve adjusted my schedule with my other projects to accommodate the time I need to both get back into Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] as well as prepare for the upcoming convention season. I’ve got a bunch of plans for this year’s markets with new ideas for prints and stickers and other goodies that I’m really excited to make! And I just, overall, want to pull myself out of the burnout funk. You can’t force recovery to happen on your own time but there does come a point where you gotta start taking steps otherwise you get stagnant, and I feel like that’s where I’ve been the last few months.
AFTERBIRTH FORMAT CHANGE
[AFTERBIRTH]’s format will be changing back to page format in its second season. Vertical format works for some projects and stories, but not for Time Gate. It’s been fun, but part of learning what I’m best at is learning what I’m not best at and the vertical format is too limiting for what I want to do with Time Gate in the future. Color will still be remaining!
REAPER RECOMPILED
I will also be working on the Recompiled editions of Reaper. These will predominantly be the first few volumes redrawn and rewritten to accommodate a tighter story down the road. I know, I know, “don’t get trapped redrawing/rewriting stuff”, but I feel the changes that I wanna make are so necessary that they’re part of what’s holding me back from continuing with [AFTERBIRTH] into Thread of Fate and beyond. There are a lot of really silly and otherwise unnecessary writing decisions I made back during Reaper that I currently feel aren’t working for what I’m trying to accomplish in its sequels, and let’s face it, I wrote it almost ten years ago when I was still very much learning, so it’s due for an upgrade. It'll be the last time too, because it'll be putting us on Loop 9999 and remember what Matty said about surpassing 9999-
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This will be something I’ll be picking at slowly but surely. When it’s ready I’ll basically be replacing the old pages and updating any new mirror sites with only the new version (I’m currently planning on trying out NamiComi and Lemoon and of course I'll be continuing to post on ComicFury and GlobalComix).
THE BIG GREEN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM-
All of that will basically be working towards my biggest step - getting the flying fuck off Webtoons. Because let me tell you, I've basically spent the last two years like this:
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Y’all know that I’m not really one to roll over and take shit from massive platforms, and Webtoons is no exception. I’ve been posting to it since 2016 and I’m very very much done with it; just like with Tapas it’s no longer the site it used to be and there’s fresh competition entering the market that I’d rather put my focus on. At the very least, I want my independence back, if I’m gonna be stuck having to market and network my own work anyways I’d much rather be doing it for my own site or platforms that aren’t constantly undercutting its creators by removing core features and not implementing necessary ones. I as well as many others have been doing our own investigating into Webtoons and we’re basically feeling like canaries in the mineshaft right now, picking up on some massive warning signs that we want to get ahead of. The worst that can happen is that I pull the same stats I pull on Webtoons somewhere else, what a tragedy that would be LMAO
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LIVESTREAMING
And then of course there are my livestreams. Like learning the hard way that I shouldn’t have been drawing [AFTERBIRTH] on such a strict schedule, I’ve learned that streaming on the schedule I used to be streaming on just ain’t for me. Call it the ADHD but I’d much rather stream when I have something to legitimately talk about or showcase rather than force myself to stream even on days when I’m really not feeling up to talking. And I’d like to get back into doing actual video editing content, whether it’s speedpaints or gaming videos or commentary stuff, whatever have you. Now that I have a proper PC rig that’s actually built to do heavy duty stuff, the possibilities of what I can create are a LOT more vast and I wanna take full advantage of them!
That said, if you wanna see an example of what the streams will look like when we return, check out this lil’ time lapse demo:
Definitely couldn't do that on my old setup! It might not be regular streaming like before, but it’ll damn well be higher quality and more fun to watch haha
WELL THAT WAS A BIG WALL OF TEXT WASN'T IT
So yeah! That was a lot of words but I hope it clears up everything that's been happening on my end. Thanks for following along with my work all these years, whether it’s Time Gate or my lil’ secret projects or my streams, through all the ups and the downs. Long-term projects like these may take their toll but there’s so much joy in seeing them change and grow over time, and I want to fully embrace and reflect that growth as best as I can through what I bring you guys.
Thank you all so much, let’s make 2024 a good year <3
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D&D!141: Classes and Races
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I spent way too much time on this and ended up putting too much effort into their character stats.
This is post is about their class, race and any other information that pertains to that. There will be a lot of dnd words, rules, and things that some people might not be familiar with. I will try to explain as best as I can but feel free to ask questions!
Backstories will be posted eventually.
Of course, I have to tag @gold0kapi who has drawn some amazing tiefling!soap that spawned this mess. i loved your drawings very much <3
Captain John Price
Price is a variant human fighter.
Variant humans gain one more prophecy in a skill, get to choose a feat and two of their ability scores increase by one (i haven't rolled their stats). It makes sense for him to be variant human going off of who he is in CoD.
Feat: Alert
You gain a +5 bonus to initiative.
You can’t be surprised while you are conscious.
Other creatures don’t gain advantage on attack rolls against you as a result of being hidden from you.
Background
Variant Noble - Knight: A knighthood is among the lowest noble titles in most societies, but it can be a path to higher status.
Class: Level 10 Fighter
Fighting style: Archery
You gain a +2 bonus to attack rolls you make with ranged weapons.
Second Wind
You have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect yourself from harm. On your turn, you can use a bonus action to regain hit points equal to 1d 10 + your fighter level
Battle Master
To a Battle Master, combat is an academic field, sometimes including subjects beyond battle such as weaponsmithing and calligraphy. Not every fighter absorbs the lessons of history, theory, and artistry that are reflected in the Battle Master archetype, but those who do are well-rounded fighters of great skill and knowledge.
Maneuvers
Commander's strike
Parry
Precision attack
Rally
Riposte
Maneuvering attack
Distracting strike
Evasive footwork
Proficient Skills
Intimidation
Persuasion
Perception
Survival
Insight
History
Languages
Common
Elvish
* A lot of people who play dnd call this boring and generic but I think it fits Price in the grand scheme of things because he's so powerful and influential that he doesn't need to be anything other than human. He is a testament to the human desire to never give up.
Simon Ghost Riley
Ghost is a Fallen Aasimar multiclassed fighter and rouge.
A fallen aasimar is as aasimar who was touched by dark powers as a youth or who turns to evil in early adulthood can become one of the fallen-a group of aasimar whose inner light has been replaced by shadow
Necrotic Shroud:
Starting at 3rd level, you can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing your eyes to turn into pools of darkness and two skeletal, ghostly, flightless wings to sprout from your back. The instant you transform, other creatures within 10 feet of you that can see you must each succeed on a Charisma saving throw or become frightened of you until the end of your next turn
Background:
Soldier - War has been your life for as long as you care to remember. You trained as a youth, studied the use of weapons and armor, learned basic survival techniques, including how to stay alive on the battlefield.
Class: Multiclassed fighter and rogue
Level 7 fighter
Fighting style: Archery
You gain a +2 bonus to attack rolls you make with ranged weapons.
Second Wind
You have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect yourself from harm. On your turn, you can use a bonus action to regain hit points equal to 1d 10 + your fighter level
Champion
The archetypal Champion focuses on the development of raw physical power honed to deadly perfection. Those who model themselves on this archetype combine rigorous training with physical excellence to deal devastating blows.
Improved critical
Beginning when you choose this archetype at 3rd level, your weapon attacks score a critical hit on a roll of 19 or 20.
Remarkable Athlete
Starting at 7th level, you can add half your proficiency bonus (round up) to any Strength, Dexterity, or Constitution check you make that doesn’t already use your proficiency bonus. In addition, when you make a running long jump, the distance you can cover increases by a number of feet equal to your Strength modifier
Level 2 rouge
Sneak attack
You know how to strike subtly and exploit a foe’s distraction. Once per turn, you can deal an extra 1d6 damage to one creature you hit with an attack if you have advantage on the attack roll. The attack must use a finesse or a ranged weapon.
Cunning action
Starting at 2nd level, your quick thinking and agility allow you to move and act quickly. You can take a bonus action on each of your turns in combat. This action can be used only to take the Dash, Disengage, or Hide action.
Proficient Skills
Survival
Perception
Stealth
Athletics
Intimidation
Languages
Common
Celestial
Thieves cant
*Note that fallen aasimar do not have to be evil
John Soap MacTavish
Soap is Tiefling Artificer
Tieflings are derived from human bloodlines, and in the broadest possible sense, they still look human. However, their infernal heritage has left a clear imprint on their appearance.
Hellish resistance
You have resistance to fire damage
Hellish rebuke
You point your finger, and the creature that damaged you is momentarily surrounded by hellish flames. The creature must make a Dexterity saving throw. It takes 2d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.
Darkness
Magical darkness spreads from a point you choose within range to fill a 15-foot-radius sphere for the duration. The darkness spreads around corners. A creature with darkvision can’t see through this darkness, and nonmagical light can’t illuminate it.
Background
Guild artisan - You are a member of an artisan's guild, skilled in a particular field and closely associated with other artisans. You are a well-established part of the mercantile world, freed by talent and wealth from the constraints of a feudal social order. You learned your skills as an apprentice to a master artisan, under the sponsorship of your guild, until you became a master in your own right.
Class: Level 8 artificer
Magical tinkering
You've learned how to invest a spark of magic into mundane objects. To use this ability, you must have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand. You then touch a Tiny nonmagical object as an action and give it one of the following magical properties of your choice
Artillerist
An Artillerist specializes in using magic to hurl energy, projectiles, and explosions on a battlefield. This destructive power is valued by armies in the wars on many different worlds
Eldritch canon
You've learned how to create a magical cannon. Using woodcarver's tools or smith's tools, you can take an action to magically create a Small or Tiny eldritch cannon in an unoccupied space on a horizontal surface within 5 feet of you. A Small eldritch cannon occupies its space, and a Tiny one can be held in one hand.
Arcane Firearm
You know how to turn a wand, staff, or rod into an arcane firearm, a conduit for your destructive spells. When you finish a long rest, you can use woodcarver's tools to carve special sigils into a wand, staff, or rod and thereby turn it into your arcane firearm.
Spells
Cantrips
Fire bolt
Thunderclap
1st level spells
cure wounds
faerie fire
absorb elements
feather fall
shield
thunderwave
2nd level spells
heat metal
magic weapon
aid
scorching ray
shatter
*at level 9 he can cast fireball...Price is scared
Proficient Skills
investigation
arcana
insight
persuasion
Languages
common
infernal
celestial
*tieflings can come from a fully human household. The tiefling gene can skip generations before it shows. Tieflings are made because of a pact struck generations ago infused the essence of Asmodeus—overlord of the Nine Hells—into their bloodline. In the players handbook, tieflings are often looked down upon.
Kyle Gaz Garrick
Gaz is an Elf ranger
Elves are a magical people of otherworldly grace, living in the world but not entirely part of it.
Fey Ancestry
You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can’t put you to sleep.
Trance
Elves don’t need to sleep. Instead, they meditate deeply, remaining semiconscious, for 4 hours a day
Background
City Watch - You have served the community where you grew up, standing as its first line of defense against crime. You aren't a soldier, directing your gaze outward at possible enemies. Instead, your service to your hometown was to help police its populace, protecting the citizenry from lawbreakers and malefactors of every stripe.
Class: level 8 ranger
Fighting style: Defense
While you are wearing armor, you gain a +1 bonus to AC.
Favored enemy: Undead
Favored terrain: Urban
Horizon Walker
Horizon walkers guard the world against threats that originate from other planes or that seek to ravage the mortal realm with otherworldly magic.
Detect portal
At 3rd level, you gain the ability to magically sense the presence of a planar portal. As an action, you detect the distance and direction to the closest planar portal within 1 mile of you.
Planar warrior
At 3rd level, you learn to draw on the energy of the multiverse to augment your attacks.
As a bonus action, choose one creature you can see within 30 feet of you. The next time you hit that creature on this turn with a weapon attack, all damage dealt by the attack becomes force damage, and the creature takes an extra 1d8 force damage from the attack.
Ethereal step
At 7th level, you learn to step through the Ethereal Plane. As a bonus action on your turn, you can cast the Etherealness spell with this feature, without expending a spell slot, but the spell ends at the end of the current turn.
Spells
Level 1 spells
hunters mark
ensnaring strike
protection from good and evil
2nd level spells
misty step
healing spirit
magic weapon
Proficient Skills
perception
insight
stealth
athletics
Languages
elvish
common
dwarvish
*this also seems pretty generic but I believe it fits him best. He is sort of the hero in the series.
And that's all! I hope you guys like what I've written. Tell me what you guys think because I'm curious!
Tags: @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @argella1300
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hbystuff · 7 months
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Process breakdown #1
Here is a breakdown of the butterfly animation. This was originally posted as a twitter thread, but a real blog post seems to be a much better format for it.
Step 1: Static Drawing
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I've long wanted to experiment with Bokeh effect in pixel art as a way to avoid drawing background. It ended up being a lot more challenging than just a normal background 😂. Still an interesting experiment nonetheless and I might use it for some other stuff in the future.
Step 2: Rough Animation
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I traced the static drawing with a contrasting colour, then roughly sketched the other frames. Seeing it in motion made it clear to me that the form was very obviously incorrect, but I thought I'd adjust as I go.
Step 3: Refined Animation
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Before I got to this point, I naively tried to put in the colour. I quickly realized making the "veins" look consistent would be very hard without guides. So I looked up pictures of actual Morpho butterflies to study the wings in detail. Also made the shapes (mostly) correct and doubled the frame count once I was happy with the shapes.
Step 4: Colours
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This was the most fun part. I conceptualized the wings as two blue tinted, matte, textured mirrors rotating in 3D space. When two mirrors come together, they start reflecting each other. The closer they get, the less the lighting from the surrounding world contribute to the colours you see. Eventually, nearly no light from the outside world make into the gap and all you see is dark blue/black.
It started looking almost like mirrors as I figured out the rough movements of the reflections; then a shimmering mess of colours as I threw in more details from the static drawing. The key trick to making the complex colours look consistent was to pay attention to every "partition" of the wings to make sure the dark colours creep in and out smoothly.
I also gradually filled in the eye spots and details on the backside of the wings, not sure if many people noticed them but I was pretty happy with how they looked.
Step 5: Shadow
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A big part of realism comes from how a moving object affects the lighting around it. In this case: the shadow on the flower. This is a rough version of the shadows as I worked on it. Wasn't too concerned about making it look 100% correct, since the wings probably catch all the attention anyway.
Step 6: Final Touches
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I spaced out the movements so it didn't feel quite so frantic. Instead of using the last frame as the resting frame, I used the second last, and only briefly showed the last frame at the begging and end of the motion to add a bit of realism (although in reality, butterfly wings probably don't have enough mass for that to happen, but hey, 🤷‍♀️).
Also spent some time to reduce the palette down by merging similar looking colours. Also reused the darker, subtler yellow in the background to create the illusion of more flowers out of focus.
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britcision · 9 months
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Happy WIP Wednesday again friends! I have some more of chapter 17 for you after last week’s break (it has been a fucking BUSY week too holy shit)
Just a lil snack while the lore churns in the background
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Well You Did Get Down On One Knee part ii
The evening was beginning to draw in, the sun getting low over Gotham city. Between her patrol the night before, helping Signal out with a case, and then that brief group heart attack about Jason, it had already been a really long day.
Spoiler cracked her neck a couple times and sighed, then sunk into the shadow behind a gargoyle.
It was smaller than usual… and occupied. Robin glowered up at her, leaping up to sit on the gargoyle’s head instead. He looked for all the world like he wanted to hiss at her like a cranky cat, which diffused all of Spoiler’s tension (but would only make his worse if she mentioned it. Maybe tomorrow).
Sighing philosophically she settled back against the base of the gargoyle, tipping her head back to see him.
“Hey… what are you doing out so early? Usually you lot wait until sundown to swing from the shadows,” she pointed out (rather fairly, she thought).
Robin just scowled disdainfully down at her, then twisted his head away to glare at the city instead.
“As if I needed any more reason to be out than you do,” he sniffed archly.
Spoiler grinned, puffing herself up. She did have an answer for this one.
“Hey, I was actually requested today. Signal needed a second pair of eyes on the back door of a bust. Didn’t see you there,” she added innocently, a brow rising.
It was technically possible that Robin could have suited up and left the manor in between Bruce’s message and Tim’s response. Spoiler wouldn’t put money on it though.
He’d have had to be on his way down already, and while they could all change quickly, there were no rushed or sloppy patches to her experienced eye.
His hair was even neatly slicked back into the traditional Robin spikes, one every Robin but her and Duke had used during their time as the baby bird.
Nah, he’d not rushed out in a panic, even if he was still more tense than he should have been. Every line of the kid was tight with… Spoiler cocked her head thoughtfully.
Frustration?
Definitely not unusual, Damian didn’t have Dick’s temper but he’d spent pretty much all of his first few years in Gotham unbearably frustrated with them all. It had just been a while since she’d seen it so… visibly.
And for all Steph was a gleeful little shit and loved poking at trouble, she wasn’t cruel. There was no point in pushing Robin if he was already on edge.
So she shrugged nonchalantly and looked forward instead, reaching back over her head to pat him gently on the foot. He didn’t dodge, which only cemented her decision.
“‘Course, no rule against taking a daylight run if you’re in the mood. See anything interesting?” She asked nonchalantly.
Kid wouldn’t admit it if he had been worrying.
Silence reigned for another long moment, and then Robin huffed and dropped down to the rooftop beside her, folding himself back into the sharper shadow the daylight provided.
“No.” Short and sweet, unlike the kid himself.
But he also hadn’t left, and Spoiler was gonna call that a win.
“Will you be out tonight too?” She asked instead of pushing, reminding herself yet again; he’d open up in his own time.
Hypothetically.
Robin made a soft, disgusted noise, glowering at the smog filled sky. Probably even in the right direction for the Watchtower.
“I intend to be. Someone must keep an eye on things,” he grumbled, and Spoiler made an effort not to take it personally.
B had been majorly distracted with all this Amity Park business, not even breathing down their necks about the usual nightly reports. The rogues hadn’t exactly noticed yet, but the goons had.
The big Bat himself not making an appearance for a couple of nights usually attracted some comment, and an up-til-now entirely Bat-free new year?
The guys she’d helped Signal grab today had been muttering about it right until they ran into her arms. Fists.
They’d mentioned not seeing Stabby Robin either though.
Which she might as well also mention.
“Weren’t you out last night too? I saw your gear missing when I dropped by at the end of the night,” she added when he tensed again, hands wedged in her utility belt. “Didn’t hear you on comms though.”
And that was more than just rude; it was bad protocol, and Robin, for all his other faults, respected the strictness of protocol.
He stayed silent, not looking at her. Spoiler decided he could use just a little push.
“Y’know unless you went out tech free I can just ask Oracle,” she pointed out gently, giving his shoulder a gentle bump.
It got him to glower up at her anyway.
“I was not on patrol,” he grumbled, whites of his mask narrowed before returning his glare to the city at large, “like I am not today.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Spoiler flipped a mental coin. Figured why not; they were already doing well.
Kid must be on the verge of having to, dread the thought, ask for help.
“And what would you be doing out and about if not patrolling…” she began, then stopped when a piece clicked suddenly into place.
Robin, Damian, was about as social as a feral cat. And about as friendly with anyone who got close to those he considered his.
Right now, Danny Fenton and his friends had more than half the family utterly wound up. All except Bruce in a good way, Spoiler was the first to admit, but Robin wouldn’t see it like that.
The only trick was, how to word the question.
Spoiler liked blunt. It made her stand out from the bats, who all played way too much mental and emotional chicken to be healthy. She’d always been more of a bird that way.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Hood’s little disappearance today, would it?” She asked instead, grinning broadly when Robin twitched.
Hit the nail on the head.
——————
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pjohoo-reclists · 9 months
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Outsider POV Fic Recs
A list of fics where mortals get glimpses of the greek world and/or demigods. Last updated on 8/8/23. Enjoy!
This is War by Tibbitoo
Gen | 1.1k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis
Titan War, Violence, Angst
Because even though the movies get it all wrong, Paul Blofis knows. War is war, and seeing those demigods fighting for their lives, seeing the fallen on the ground, made him finally understand. This wasn't a dream, but a cruel reality where Good and Evil clashed in a bloody battle. This wasn't a book where Good always won. This was a real war. It was reality. His stepson's reality.
Start Over by RainKiss
Gen | 1.5k | Complete
background Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Goode High School, poor education system, Paul is a good dad
Mr. Morelli is not a nervous person by character, but the file in front of him gives the scholastic transgressions of the new kid, who has been allowed to attend Goode High school—the place where he works.
Um.... Oops? by grainjew
Gen | 2.8k | Complete
background Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Identity Reveal, Post TLO, Pre HoO
Scarlet Williams, sophomore at Goode High School, was stretched out in the back of her friend Percy's car when a twelve year old materialized in the passenger seat. The next thing she knew, apparently Greek mythology was real and liked trying to kill her friend. Great.
Riding on the Rolling Tide by mrthology
T | 3k | Complete
Jason Grace & Percy Jackson
AU, Slice of Life, Crack Treated Seriously
“I think that’s Percy Jackson!” “Who?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “The kid who jumped off the St Louis arch years ago, and then there was all that weirdness,” she added, waving her hands for effect, “with a kidnapping or something.” “Oh, the one that’s a demigod?” “Yeah,” she said. She still wasn’t sure if she believed in gods or demigods, but it was hard to deny it at this point. Monsters and worse walked among them, and Sarah hated it. At first, she’d thought it was some strange publicity stunt for an upcoming show or movie—studios had done stranger things to draw crowds, after all—but she knew better now. Gods were real, and so were monsters. ... After the Second Giant War, the Mist falls. The results aren't what anyone expected.
Someone to You by mrthology
Gen | 3k | Complete
Percy Jackson, Triton, Amphitrite, Paul Blofis' Parents, Estelle Blofis
Triton is a Good Sibling, Big Brother Percy, Slice of Life
Anna wasn't sure what to think of Percy Jackson, truth be told, having only met him twice. She adored her daughter in law Sally and her little granddaughter, but there was something about Percy that put her on edge. She had no idea what - he was a kind boy, eager to help with his baby sister when most teenagers would run for the hills and clearly adored his mother - but there was just something about him, something about his too-bright eyes that made her feel uneasy. ~~~ Or, Paul's parents are taking care of Estelle for a few days. When picking her up, they meet Percy again as well as his older brother (what was his name? Tri?). At this point, Anna just wants to know what the dad looks like to have kids that look like THIS. Especially when, several days later, they meet the stepmother as well.
Here On The Sunny Side by mrthology
Gen | 4k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Apollo
Post Trials of Apollo, New Rome University, Attempt at Humor
“Just talk to him.” Cody blinked. He could do a lot of things, but approaching Percy Jackson and just talking to him was not one of those things. “We can’t just go and talk to him!” Aida yelped, shifting nervously in her seat. Cody agreed. Percy Jackson was nothing if not intimidating. He’d done so much for Camp Jupiter and walked with more gods than Cody could begin to fathom. There were even rumours that Jupiter (or, Cody supposed, Zeus) had offered him godhood when he’d only been sixteen. Everyone in New Rome knew he spent time in his father’s realm below the sea, and even the Praetors seemed to defer to him at times. No. Cody couldn’t just go up and talk to Percy Jackson. Not many in New Rome would dare. ——— Or, Percy’s part of a group project at NRU. His group mates aren’t exactly sure what to make of him. Or of his mysterious paramour.
A Thin Barrier Between Two Worlds by Skywalking_through_life
T | 5.7k | Complete
Percy Jackson, Hudson River Spirit
Post Gaea & Second Giant War, Canon Compliant, Eavesdropping
"'Man, If I avoided everyone with a bone to pick with me, I'd be a hermit. But I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to have actually done this time?" He could only see half of Percy's face, and even that at a distance, but there was no mistaking the lazy smirk he was wearing, or the way his arms were casually folded across his chest. He wasn't scared of this guy, which didn't make a lick of sense, because just the guy's voice was scaring Giovanni. What could the rest of him look like? "Don't play stupid, kid, it ain't a good look for you. You know good and well what you did." A sudden thud shook the wood of the old dock, making it creak and sway and causing bits of plank to fall. When the dust cleared, Giovanni bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself from gasping, because now that he could see both people above him, he wasn't sure the person opposite Percy was, in fact, human. In which Giovanni learns that there is such a thing as knowing too much about the world around him...
The Overwhelming Specter of Your Mothers Book Club by 60sec400
Not Rated | 5.9k Complete
Sally Jackson/Paul Blofis
Meeting the Parents, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Oneshot
Martha Blofis stared at her son in shock. “What do you mean,” she said slowly, “that you’re married?” Her son fidgeted nervously. First, he ran a hand through his peppered hair, and then his eyes flickered down and away. Then he lifted them again and smiled meekly at her. “Paul,” she said, “I need you to tell me what in gods name you were thinking.” “Her name is Sally Jackson?” Paul said, his voice lifting as he weren’t quite sure what the name of his wife was. AKA Paul tells his mother he hasn't seen in four years that he's married. Really, the only thing she can think about is what she's going to tell her book club.
Percy Jackson and the Scrutiny of his Coworkers by pqrker
Gen | 6.4k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Original Characters
Marine Biologist Percy Jackson, Adult Percy Jackson
Jim turned back to the tank and looked at Marcie the seal, who was now staring at the spot his coworker had been standing just moments before with that same strange look of reverence in her eyes. Percy Jackson truly was the oddest person Jim Elpool had ever worked with. or 5 times percy's coworkers were confounded by his fish magic, plus 1 time they try to figure it out.
More Things in Heaven and Earth by Skywalking_through_life
T | 7.1k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Post-Gaea & Second Giant War, Canon Compliant, High School
"Sticking her head further out of the light of her doorway and into the dark hallway, she peered left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of movement in the shadows beyond the dim glow of the emergency lights. Nothing. But as her eyes fell on the bank of lockers outside her classroom where the first thud had come from, they widened in horror. A long smear of blood, thick enough to start to drip down the dented metal, stained two of the lockers." Ms. Lafayette is a teacher, not a detective. But that doesn't mean she's not curious - and concerned - when a trail of blood appears in the hallway outside her classroom in the early hours of the morning...
good doesn't equal Goode by vani_em
Gen | 7.3k | Complete
Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis
off screen Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, BAMF Percy Jackson, good dad Paul Blofis
One thing was clear: Percy Jackson was not Goode High School material.
In a Field of Dandelions by mrthology
T | 7.5k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Future Fic, Kid Fic, Domestic Fluff
"You okay there?" she asked once she was closer, smiling in what she hoped was a welcoming manner. The man smiled back, still looking a bit confused. Nicky's breath caught in her chest when he met her eyes. His gaze was a little too vivid, his bone structure a little too perfect. He seemed a little too much more than human. Part of her wanted to run, while another part wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth and beyond. "I think so," he replied, breaking the spell. "Just trying to figure out day one, I suppose. I'm Percy!" ----- Percy and Annabeth's eldest child starts school. Percy inadvertently causes a bit of a stir, and Annabeth isn't jealous, not at all.
[conduct] not unbecoming men who [strive] with gods by Skywalking_through_life
T | 8k+ | On-going as of 8/8/23
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Sally Jackson/Paul Blofis, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis
Post Second Giant War, Slice of Life, Identity Reveal
"Some students find it hard to find a poem that they identify with," she said simply, even tone belying the gravity of the look she was giving him. "I…I can imagine that you, perhaps, might be one of them." For a moment, he just stared back at her, heart now thumping almost painfully fast as he tried to decide how to respond to that. She was right of course, but now that the moment he'd been waiting for had definitely arrived, was he really prepared to do this? "Are we talking about poetry?" He finally asked, mouth dry, as though he didn't already know the answer to his own question, "Or are we talking about…something else?" Or, a week in the life of Percy's senior year, featuring: a poetry project, a swim meet, prom, several identity crises, and maybe, just maybe, a long-overdue conversation with a certain sharp-eyed teacher.
some have entertained angels unaware by Skywalking_through_life
T | 21k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis, Minor or Background Relationships, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Post Second Giant War, Field Trip, Powerful Percy Jackson
"Slumping at the table next to his now slightly raspy stepfather, Percy decided to make one last appeal. "Paul, you can't seriously think me dying of frostbite or exposure on the way to see the Statue of Liberty for the eighty-millionth time is a good death, right? Like, I could do so much better." Paul shrugged, eyes dancing. "I'm not the expert on death in this family, Perce. But I do imagine it's probably more heroic than dying of boredom in US Government class?"' Percy didn't think there was a god of field trips, but if there was...he was pretty sure that they hated him.
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Yennefer saying 1, Yenskier
Here's some post-season 2 Yennskier with background Geraskefer.
"Could you hold me? Please."
Yennefer knows that casting the spell will probably kill her. All of Tissaia’s dire warnings about what happens when a mage burns themselves out ring in her head. She barely survived Sodden Hill and she know she shouldn’t risk that kind of loss of control again, especially not so soon after regaining her powers.
But soldiers found her, Geralt, Jaskier, and Ciri in the little farmhouse where they’ve been hiding for weeks now. Geralt is injured, his movements clumsy as he holds off three soldiers. She doesn’t know where Ciri is. The princess is hopefully hiding somewhere, but she’s probably about to do something reckless and dangerous. She can hear Jaskier shouting, taunting their attackers as he tries to draw them away from Geralt.
Yennefer turns and finds the bard backed up against the wall, holding a ladle like it’s a bludgeon and making anatomically improbable suggestions about the mother of the soldier approaching him with a sword. The soldier raises his blade and Yennefer knows there’s no time for her to hesitate. She may not survive, but she needs to make sure that Geralt, Jaskier, and Ciri get out of this alive.
For the second time in less than a year, Yennefer throws out her hands and lets her chaos run wild.
***
Yennefer wakes in the middle of the woods, her mouth tasting of ash and blood and her entire body aching. Her head is cushioned on a scratchy woolen cloak that reeks of horse and there’s a blanket thrown over her. A few feet away, a campfire crackles merrily and on the other side of the fire, Jaskier strums his lute. There’s a furrow in his brow and his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.
She takes a moment to observe him before she croaks, “Geralt? Ciri?”
Jaskier’s head jerks up, pure relief flashing across his face. “They’re off catching dinner.”
“Hurt?”
“No, love.” He puts down his lute and rounds the fire to sit next to her. “Geralt caught a sword to his side, but you know witcher healing. He bled a lot, took a couple of potions, and then started acting like nothing ever happened. Ciri doesn’t have a scratch on her.”
“You?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” He brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Thanks to you.”
“Idiot. Shouldn’t taunt people with swords.”
“I’ve spent over two decades taunting a man with a sword. It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.”
“Idiot,” she says again, too tired to hide the fondness in her voice. 
“You scared the shit out of us, Yenn,” Jaskier says. “You slept for two days. We didn’t think you were going to wake up.”
“They were going to kill you and Geralt and take Ciri.” Yennefer closes her eyes, trying to block out the memories. “Are the soldiers dead?”
“All of them. And the house is burned to the ground. With all my favorite clothes inside, I may add.”
“Pity you were able to save your lute.”
“Yes, I got luck—hey!”
Yennefer smirks, eyes still closed.
She feels him let out a long sigh. “You nearly got yourself killed.”
“You nearly got stabbed for insulting a soldier’s mother.”
“Well, I had to do something to piss them off enough that they wouldn’t go after Geralt.”
Yennefer grits her teeth. “Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
“You impossible fucking bard.”
He presses a kiss to her forehead. “You impossible fucking witch.”
She hates this fucking man. She would tell him that at length, but moving her mouth is starting to feel like too much effort. She’s exhausted and acutely aware that the hard, cold ground she’s lying on is much less comfortable than the bed she’s been sharing with Jaskier and Geralt for weeks now. She’s gotten used to not having to sleep on the ground.
Jaskier sighs. “Anything I can do for you, Yenn?”
Yennefer hesitates, then asks, “Could you hold me? Please?” A few months ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for such a thing. It still feels odd to show that kind of vulnerability. But she’s cold, hurting, and all too aware of how close she came to never being held by Jaskier again.
“Of course.” The blanket lifts off her for a moment as Jaskier slides under it, curling against her side and tucking the blanket around both of them. Eyes still closed, Yennefer lifts her head off the cloak to settle it against Jaskier’s shoulder, a far finer pillow. His arms wrap around her, warm, secure, and achingly familiar. Yennefer settles against him, soothed by the feeling of him against her. The ground is still hard and her body still aches fiercely, but it’s a little more bearable with him holding her.
“Do me a favor,” he says softly. “Don’t almost die on me again.”
Yennefer knows she can’t promise that. None of them can, not when they’re on the run with the most wanted princess on the Continent. She can’t imagine how the four of them will all manage to get out of this alive. But Jaskier doesn’t need to hear that and she’s not above lying to her bard when necessary.
“I won’t,” she says. “So long as you don’t taunt any more men with swords. Except for Geralt. He would miss it.”
“No more taunting men with swords.” She knows he’s lying, just like she’s sure he knows she’s lying. But right now, curled up together on the ground, holding each other, they can both pretend that they believe it.
***
Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts
Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome
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