#be impressed with my ability to avoid drawing faces

[kkgienthusiast]

almost forgot this

bonus prompt - sweat !

total points would be 14 i think? maybe?

+ my friend while i was sending wips

[ddejavvu]

For Tyler Owens x shy!reader maybe it’s their first time sharing a bed at a motel after tornado chasing? Nothing sexual just like sharing a bed and being shy about it?

Heartbeat - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

You've always been envious of the universal man-ability to fall asleep within seconds of their heads hitting the pillow, but now you're feeling the hurt worse than ever. It's well past one in the morning, Tyler's been asleep for over an hour, and you've been staring at a suspicious patch of something that's probably mold in the corner of the motel room ceiling.

It's not the nicest place, but you're stranded in the middle of a backroad stretch of Arkansas, so any place with a roof, even a moldy one, is a nice place.

Tyler's phone rings, technically set to vibrate but humming nevertheless as it lights up the room. You're expecting him to sleep right through it but he stirs, extending a lazy hand to press at the power button until it stops buzzing. Then, with a hefty grunt, he heaves over onto his side, and comes sleepy-face to sleepy-face with you.

"Oh," He starts, eyes widening from where they'd been barely open, "You're-" He clears his throat, his voice raspy, "You're awake, darlin'?"

His strong arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you close, drawing you into warmth you hadn't accumulated yourself despite laying for the same length of time. You huddle into it even though there's a fire burning your cheeks and scalding your mind.

When you don't answer, Tyler rambles sleepily, "Sorry, my- m'phone was goin' off. Some scam caller, 'm pretty sure. Were you-" A yawn cuts through his words, "Awake before that?"

"Mhm," You nod, thankful for the sanctuary of his clothed chest despite it being the reason you're so flustered.

"You ever get to sleep, sweet thing?"

That's the million-dollar question. Million-dollar question meaning the one you'd pay a million dollars to avoid answering.

Your answering hum is non-committal at best, but Tyler seems to know there's a reason you hadn't flat-out said yes.

"My poor baby," He frowns, bleary but still concerned, as he pulls back to free your face from his chest. You're still encircled by his impressive arm, though, and you can't meet his eye as he stares down at you.

"What's'a matter, honey-bun?"

"Hm?"

"Why can't you sleep?" He asks, then guesses, "Is it the smell'a mildew that's comin' off of everything?"

His bluntness startles you into laughter, but you know he expects an answer from the way he maintains your gaze, sympathy shining in his sweet, sleepy eyes.

Now starts the squirming, "Um, I dunno. I guess the bed's just not too comfy," You prod at the cheaply-made mattress beneath you, "And- I think I'm just not used to sleeping with other people, y'know, and then the bathroom fan makes a weird noise even when it's off-"

Your attempts to bury the lede had failed. Tyler's brows furrow and he leans in, your nose-to-nose positioning only making your bashfulness worse as he murmurs, "Is this the first time you're sharin' a bed with anyone, sweet thing?"

Even the little details, the soft gust of his breath on your face as he watches you makes your insides crawl with mortification. You're so close, and he's so there, and he's finally figured out that you've never done anything like this before, and- god, how do you play this off?

"No, I have, I- I've had, y'know, sleepovers with friends and, um, I had a cat growing up, that kind of thing. Just not-" You break away when your eyes flicker over his, and you hold eye contact for as long as possible, "Not like this. Nothing like this."

Tyler doesn't laugh, even though he probably really wants to. Even though you've probably made a complete fool out of yourself, and he's going to snicker at your predicament with his friends later, he doesn't laugh, and instead he- he presses a soft, barely-there kiss to your forehead.

"I think I'm a little more involved than a cat," He hums gently, "Are you okay with me touchin' you like this, angel baby?"

His arm is around your waist, and his face is up against your own- that's it. He's not getting handsy, not venturing lower than necessary or trying to shove his large hands beneath your clothes.

"You're not touching me." You attempt to answer, "Or- well, you are, but-"

"But it doesn't matter what I mean by it if you don't like it. So is it okay?"

You consider the feeling of his strong arm tucking you tight into his chest, as well as the intoxicating feeling of each breath he takes being fanned over your face, a privilege you hope you're the only one to have experienced.

"Yeah," You melt into his arms, even squirming closer as he lets you lead, "This is okay. It's- I like it."

"Good." He murmurs, and you feel it more than hear it from the way you're nestled against his chest, "What normally helps you fall asleep? Cat breath?"

"Maybe," You laugh, recalling your tuna-scented companion, "But I don't know. Just- this is nice. Your breathing and," You pause, listening, "The beat of your heart."

Tyler's fingers freeze a beat before they curl against your scalp, raking gently and soothingly through your hair.

"Good." He repeats, and you swear this one sounds shakier, almost thicker than the last one, "That's it, sweet thing, relax. I'll make sure you get to sleep. And tomorrow I'll act like a gentleman, 'won't just collapse into bed and get to snorin'. before you've even brushed your teeth."

Your laugh is the last one you release for the night- the last sound altogether besides the soft breathing that evens in your chest, and it's all funneled into Tyler's chest like a prize he's won.

[x-trixie-x]

Far Away | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Tags: AFAB, Rohan and reader are older/have a teenage daughter called Rochelle (matching the Joestar tradition of the first half of the name being the same), slightly angsty but mostly fluff! Dad Rohan 💔

When Rohan thought deeply into his future, having a child of his own wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind. He was far too busy to give all of his attention to something that constantly required it until gaining the ability to care for itself, and the thought of a child disrupting the comfortable life he’d built for himself was not something he desired. He could barely engage with adults in a proper fashion and his interactions with children were even worse, giving everyone the impression he couldn’t possibly be mature enough to be a father. However, (Y/n) knew that wasn’t true at all, and Rohan proved that to her every day from the moment their daughter was born.

Rochelle definitely had a preference for her dad, constantly crying to be scooped up into his arms as a baby to following him around the house as a toddler. Rohan would always find her pattering into his office during the hours she should have been sleeping, grabbing the fabric of his trousers while peering up at him with sad, pleading eyes. He’d scold her for being awake and for disturbing him while he was attempting to work, but would soon find himself sighing in defeat at the way she dejectedly pouted up at him. Lifting her to settle comfortably on his lap, he’d hold her close while he continued to press his pen to the pages in front of him. Rochelle would always gaze at the pictures he created with wide, curious eyes and he’d smile softly at how amazed she was whenever she’d watch him draw. Rohan felt his heart swell in a way he never expected to experience in his life when she babbled about how pretty his drawings were; he knew he was talented and that many people felt that way, but his daughter’s opinion was the only one that truly made him feel special.

(Y/n) peered into his office one night, smiling softly at the sight she was greeted with when Rohan turned in his chair to face her. Rochelle was settled comfortably in his arms, snuggling against his chest while she quietly slept in his hold and (Y/n) took careful, silent steps over to the pair to avoid waking the girl from her deep slumber. Placing a hand on his cheek, (Y/n) leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to the man’s lips, which left him with a small, pink blush at her actions. He turned his head to the side slightly to conceal his embarrassment and she giggled at his reaction, turning her attention back to their daughter, who continued to sleep peacefully in Rohan’s arms while he brushed aside strands of her glossy, dark green locks that fell over her face.

“Did she disturb you?” (Y/n) quietly asked, observing the way his eyes never left her sleeping form for even a moment.

“Doesn’t she always?”

(Y/n) let out a small, breathy laugh at his response; she knew that Rohan actually adored these simple moments, despite his tone giving the opposite impression. Opening her arms out as an offer to take Rochelle from his hold, Rohan shook his head and kept a firm grip on her, which resulted in a puzzled look from his wife. He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he avoided (Y/n)’s gaze, hugging his daughter closer to his chest as he awkwardly stammered in response.

“I… want her to stay here with me for a little longer. Don’t worry, I’ll put her back to bed once I finish my work.”

(Y/n) blinked in surprise, a small, affectionate smile tugging at her lips before she made her way towards the door. “Okay, but hurry up. I want your attention too, you know.”

Rohan felt a smirk grace his features at her words and the way she gave him a playful wink. “Of course you do, who doesn’t?” He replied confidently, turning to face his work yet again once he was left alone with his daughter.

As Rochelle grew older, Rohan would often take further, longer trips to conduct research for his work, leaving her lonely without his presence in the house. (Y/n) would occasionally catch their daughter slipping into his office to spend hours creating a collection of drawings to present Rohan with whenever he came home, which he would always smile proudly at upon receiving and frame immediately. She definitely inherited his artistic abilities, developing her skill at an incredible speed during her father’s absence. However, the more Rohan departed and left her behind, Rochelle grew to draw for herself instead of for his approval. Each time she watched him exit the house, sometimes not returning for weeks, she found herself growing more and more bitter towards her father for abandoning her, and it made her more furious when she aged enough to understand the impact it had on her mother too.

Rohan picked up on the way his teenage daughter had grown distant towards him over the years, noticing her quiet, tense behaviour whenever he returned home and how she stopped excitedly handing him drawings as soon as he walked through the door. Instead, she gripped her sketchbook tightly when their eyes met, instantly turning on the spot before heading towards her room in complete silence. Rohan simply sighed deeply whenever they had these awkward interactions while (Y/n) would always plead with such desperation in her tone for him to approach Rochelle, to fix whatever had gone wrong between the two, but the truth was he had absolutely no idea how to do that - confronting feelings really wasn’t his greatest strength. In true Rohan fashion, he continued busying himself with his work and avoiding the situation entirely, which only made his daughter become more resentful at his ignorance. He really didn’t intend for their relationship to become so strained and his lack of understanding of Rochelle’s feelings alongside his deep focus on his work was ultimately the cause of their bond shattering, and even though Rohan knew deep down he was to blame for not paying more attention to his family, he just couldn’t find the right way to communicate it properly.

Rochelle stepped into the kitchen quietly, her expression softening at the sight of (Y/n) humming to herself while preparing tea. She settled beside her mother, leaning against the kitchen counter with her sketchbook tucked under her arm as she intently examined the liquid being poured into three cups. Rochelle raised an eyebrow in confusion at this before an uncomfortable thought crossed her mind, making her body shrink slightly at the realisation.

“Is Dad coming home?” Rochelle mumbled, making (Y/n) turn to face her with a small nod and a sympathetic smile.

Her daughter sighed deeply at the confirmation, grasping her sketchbook tighter before pushing herself off the kitchen counter in defeat. Upon noticing her about to leave, (Y/n) clasped her fingers around her wrist, which caused Rochelle to jump in surprise and turn to face her. Her bright, emerald eyes had widened as a result of her actions, softening slightly when her mother smiled back at her with deep affection evident on her face. Rochelle had all of Rohan’s most noticeable features and traits; she had his glossy, dark green shade of hair that had grown to flow gorgeously down to her waist over the years and she took all of her fashion inspiration from him, even stealing some of his signature headbands to complete her outfits. Looking at their daughter was like looking at a female version of her husband - she was beyond beautiful and it made her heart swell with pride at how much she resembled Rohan.

“You know, considering you don’t like your Dad much these days, you certainly enjoy stealing his clothes still.” (Y/n) giggled with a teasing smirk, reaching up to adjust the blue headband.

Rochelle blushed a deep shade of red and gently swatted her mother’s hand away. Placing her sketchbook on the counter, she folded her arms across her chest and seemed to shrink back slightly as she mumbled at an almost inaudible volume. “I don’t not like Dad, I just don’t like how he leaves you all the time…”

“Is it that you don’t like how he leaves me or how he leaves you?” (Y/n) responded in a hushed tone, causing Rochelle’s body to stiffen slightly while she turned away to avoid the knowing gaze she was receiving.

“I just feel like I don’t even know him anymore…” Rochelle muttered, her voice shaking slightly as tears welled up in her eyes.

(Y/n) felt her breath hitch at the sound of her daughter’s confession and at how dejected she truly was to admit it. She felt her protective instincts kick in at the way Rochelle hung her head to conceal any tears that threatened to fall, instantly throwing her arms around her to hold her close. Rochelle reciprocated the embrace, hugging her mother tightly; she knew (Y/n) was just as heartbroken at the lack of Rohan’s presence, yet she held it together every day and always spoke so highly of him, regardless of what her daughter may think and say about him.

“Does Dad even care about me..?” Rochelle found herself asking, her question muffled by still being buried in (Y/n)’s chest.

She instantly regretted the question when (Y/n) grasped her shoulders and pushed her back slightly, gazing at her with wide, shocked eyes. Rochelle shrunk slightly under her mother’s surprised look, avoiding her stare out of shame for even putting the thought on her. (Y/n) immediately took her hands and leaned down more to her level, which made Rochelle uncomfortably shuffle on the spot as she prepared to be scolded for voicing such a ridiculous feeling.

“Your Dad may not be around much, but I promise that he loves you more than anything else in the world. He may not be the best at speaking about these things, but I’ve never once doubted how much he cares for you. You mean everything to him. You always have and always will.”

Rochelle nodded slowly, gulping harshly at the lump that had formed in her throat as a result of her mother’s words. She furiously brushed away a few tears that had slipped from her eyes, her embarrassment at losing her composure evident at the way she tried to conceal her face from view. (Y/n) smiled sympathetically, reaching a hand out to help dry some of the tears that Rochelle had missed before jumping at the unexpected sound of the door opening. Rohan quietly announced his arrival while entering the room, flinching at the sound of his daughter’s gentle, almost silent sniffs as she turned away from his stare. He stepped towards her quicker than he anticipated, resting a hand on her shoulder to carefully spin her around and face him.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Rohan asked in a hushed voice.

A gasp fell from his lips when Rochelle sprang into his arms and buried her face in his chest, embracing him tightly and leaving him utterly shocked. Rohan couldn’t believe what was happening - he couldn’t even remember the last time his daughter spoke to him, let alone hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her with a soft smile gracing his features, holding her as close as possible in case he didn’t get the opportunity to do this again.

“I’m okay. I just missed you.” Rochelle confessed, pulling back to meet her father’s eyes for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I missed you too…” Rohan whispered back, patting her head gently with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Did you miss me?” (Y/n) playfully questioned with a teasing smirk, tilting her head to the side while folding her arms across her chest.

Rohan turned to face her with a smug expression, releasing Rochelle from his hold to take a step towards his wife. He gripped her chin tenderly and tilted her face up to meet his affectionate gaze, leaning so close their noses brushed softly against each other. (Y/n) felt her heartbeat’s regular pace increase more rapidly at the closeness; no matter how many years they’d been together, he could still reduce her to a hopelessly flustered state.

“Of course I missed you.” Rohan whispered, closing the distance between them to deeply press his lips against hers and prove his words better through actions.

Rochelle scoffed, turning away from the scene with a hint of disgust and a roll of her eyes. She eventually stepped forward with slight reluctance to tug at Rohan’s sleeve, making him turn to peer down at her with a puzzled look. Shuffling awkwardly on the spot, she flickered her glistening, emerald eyes up at him and gave him a sad, almost pleading look.

“Please don’t leave again. I want to spend more time with you…” Rochelle confessed with a small pout, causing her father’s heart to ache at the desperation evident in her tone.

“The next time I have to leave, you’ll be coming with me,” Rohan stated, resulting in a gasp from Rochelle as she shrieked excitedly at his words. He turned his attention over to (Y/n), who was now raising an eyebrow at him with clear expectation, and he smirked in amusement at the expression. “Both of you will be coming with me.”

Rochelle stepped around the streets of Paris, her jaw dropping in awe at the unfamiliar yet beautiful sights that surrounded her. Rohan smirked in amusement when she scampered over to the glass window of a high fashion store, pressing her hands against the glass to peer at the outfits that were displayed on the other side. (Y/n) linked her arm with her husband’s and gazed up at him with bright, dazzling eyes, which brought a gentle smile to his face at the pure joy and affection they conveyed.

“Hey, Dad!” Rochelle yelled while patiently waiting at the door of the clothing store, waving at him eagerly for his attention. “I think you owe me!”

Rohan released an exasperated sigh and rummaged around his pockets, causing (Y/n) to giggle at their daughter’s audacity and the way she held her hand out with high expectation. He reluctantly passed her his card and felt a wave of fear wash over him at the potential damage she might cause to his bank account. Rochelle simply gave her father a smug smirk and dashed inside the store, and Rohan found himself chuckling at her behaviour. If this brought her happiness, maybe he didn’t quite mind how much she spent on herself - he owed it to her, after all.

Rochelle continued to drag her parents around every clothing store Paris had to offer, each visit leaving her with a countless amount of bags. She found herself yawning as the day sky began to darken and her limbs aching from the relentless walking, along with the weight of her new purchases putting a strain on her body. Rohan observed her exhausted state sympathetically before taking any remaining bags from her arms, watching with delight at the way his wife threw an arm around Rochelle and pulled her into her side with giggles erupting from the both of them.

“It must be so tiring spending all of your Dad’s money.” (Y/n) teased her playfully, which only made their daughter laugh more as she leaned into her side.

Rochelle quickly slipped from (Y/n)’s hold after a sudden realisation to stop in front of Rohan, a small, pink blush spreading across her cheeks as she shuffled on the spot a little awkwardly. He stopped to watch her intently, a puzzled expression gracing his features the longer she paused before him and avoided his confused stare. She cast her embarrassment aside to throw her arms around Rohan’s neck, pulling him down to her level and embracing him so tightly it caused him to release a quiet gasp at her actions.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you.” Rochelle mumbled gratefully before stepping back with a soft smile to swiftly race ahead of her parents.

Rohan froze on the spot, unable to process his daughter’s affectionate words while (Y/n) giggled in amusement at the dazed look on his face. He knew somewhere deep down that she still loved him, that she didn’t truly hate him, but he couldn’t remember the last time she’d voiced her love for him. He wasn’t always the best at receiving displays of affection, opting to express his own feelings through actions or in smaller, fewer words, yet he found himself much softer and more vulnerable over the years since Rochelle came into his life. Rohan was pulled out of his thoughts when (Y/n) took his hand in hers, slowly lacing their fingers together while peering up at him with a knowing grin.

“Are you really so surprised that your daughter loves you?” (Y/n) giggled with a smug smirk, quickly turning her expression into one of confusion when Rohan quietly placed the bags on the ground and turned to face her.

He remained completely silent, taking her face in his hands and holding her so gently it left (Y/n) speechless. Rohan leaned down at an agonisingly slow pace and paused to scan her bright, sparkling eyes, his heart swelling with deep adoration; this person had given him everything and had never left his side despite the mistakes he had made, and he loved her in a way words could never begin to explain. Seeing her evident anticipation, he closed the painful distance between them and pressed his lips against hers, pouring all of his affection into the action in the hopes it would express just how infatuated he was with her. Rohan reluctantly drew back to gather (Y/n) in his arms and hold her close, leaning down to softly whisper in her ear.

“I love you. I love both of you. I’ll take you everywhere with me from now on if this is how happy it makes you.”

[theblueeyedfirebender]

Fanfiction Masterlist.

(Updated 12/5/24)

The following are my works over on AO3, in no particular order. Mostly FMA/Royai, with some SxF/Twiyor and ATLA/Zutara.

Bon appétit ❤️

The Counteroffer

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.7K

On the eve of Mustang’s inauguration as Fuhrer, Riza Hawkeye submits her resignation.

(love confession, light angst with a happy ending)

Hourglass

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 1.6K

Riza Hawkeye never intended on living past age thirty-two. It wasn’t that she wanted to die. She simply did not expect to live.

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 5: Gift

(angst with a happy ending)

Death and Taxes

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 5.4K

“You’re proposing we marry,” Hawkeye responds, slow and dangerous, “for tax purposes?”

Something prickles beneath Mustang's shirt collar. He resists the urge to tug at it, instilling his voice with an even coolness as he pretends to examine his cuticles. “A mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn’t you agree?”

(mutual pining, marriage of convenience)

The Art of Living On

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 3.9K

She has never done this. Has avoided it at all costs. Because she is unfit, she tells herself. Her hands are made for firearms and filing office paperwork, not soothing fussy babies. Her edges are too sharp, too jagged to provide comfort to anyone. She is scarred and bloodied and barely knows the love of a mother herself.

But the baby wails, pleading.

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 2: Appreciate

This story was adapted into a podfic (audiobook, but make it fanfiction) by @klainelynch. Listen here.

(domestic fluff, light angst with a happy ending)

Threads

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word counts: 2.8K

She listens to him pull in a breath, his voice taking on the sharp edge of alarm. “Lieutenant?” Warmth runs over the back of her hand. Down her forearm. “Lieutenant, is everything alright?”

She can hear the downward turn of his mouth, the ridge that forms as his dark brows draw together. She knows the way his spine pulls straight, his hand gripping the phone receiver with knuckles blanched.

Shadows are beginning to fray the edges of her vision. A terrible weakness is sinking into her, heavy and bone-deep. She needs to hold pressure. She needs to sit down. “Colonel,” she says again, weariness and panic threading through the syllables.

Something drips from the bend of her elbow.

A gift for @shuboxx ❤️

(angst, hurt/comfort)

Uncle Zuko

Katara x Zuko

Rating: T

Word count: 2.6K

Of all the things his hands have held - from dragon eggs and ancient texts to the element of Fire itself - this is by far the most precious, the most powerful: a new generation, one born into a world without war.

Zuko is forced to hold Sokka's baby, and feelings happen. I published this story years ago on FFN under a different title. This is the updated/revised version. I haven't written much of them lately, but Zuko & Katara are, and will always remain, my otp.

(domestic fluff)

Forts, Flashlights, and Forgery

Loid Forger / Twilight x Yor Forger / Thorn Princess

Rating: T

Word count: 5k

And like climbing a rooftop, disarming a bomb, forgery is essential to espionage. An ability applied not only to paperwork and documents, but one’s very self. To smile and lie and feel no remorse, to shed one’s outer layer and replace it anew. To cut ties, change faces, and walk away, again and again, morphing into whatever - whomever - deemed necessary to the success of the mission, the safety of the collective, regardless of personal cost.

It is a talent which has defined him, erased him. A fraud. A fake. A shadow.

(domestic fluff, light angst)

The Bookshelf - WIP

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.3K

“It has a ladder.” Falman remarks, impressed.

(Or: Fuhrer Mustang gifts Hawkeye a bookshelf, and the rest of the Team starts to figure things out.)

(fluff, humor)

Strong Whiskey and Slanted Light

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: G

Word count: 908

His team is alive. The Elric brothers have their bodies back. Havoc can walk again. And from her place in the driver’s seat, Riza Hawkeye - alive and breathing - glances sharply in his direction, brows raised in a rare moment of removing her attention from the road ahead. He doesn’t miss the way she winces at the sudden movement of her still-healing neck. “Sir?”

“It’s just a question, Lieutenant. I’m curious.”

Written for Royai Week 2024, Day 1: Curiosity

(light angst, mutual pining)

Incandescently

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 999

“And how are you this evening, my dear?” he murmurs, the playful formality simmering between them. His bowtie has gone missing, Riza observes. As well as his tailored jacket, and the top few buttons of his collared shirt are undone. Suspenders hang loose around his hips, and the scent of his cologne - a blend of tobacco, leather, and vanilla - drifts to her, freshly applied despite the lateness of the hour.

“Very well,” she responds over the rim of her wine glass, wondering if the darkness is enough to conceal the heat creeping into her face. Likely not. “Only I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘my dear’.”

(fluff; formerly titled Mrs. Mustang)

As You Were

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.4K

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s dropped his honorific.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are somehow both alive. Maybe it’s the fact that he can see her, when he’d believed with such certainty that he never would again. He can see her and she is beautiful, and for once he doesn’t understand why he ever chose to banish that thought from his mind when it is so clearly the truth.

(angst)

The Flame Alchemist's Daughter

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 6.4K

The ink is a burden. The knowledge is a curse.

Disclaimer: I wrote this before I fully understood the mechanics of Mustang's flame alchemy (I literally finished the series in March 2024; I'm new here, so my bad). I realized later that some of the implications here would not make sense in canon. That said, I still love this story. I'm proud of it and it's freaking fanfiction so who cares.

(angst)

Checkmate

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 1.6K

In the wake of his election victory, Roy Mustang makes a very important visit to Fuhrer President Grumman.

Prequel to "The Counteroffer."

(fluff, light angst)

Four

Riza Hawkeye x Roy Mustang

Rating: T

Word count: 2.2K

Each time he has laid eyes on Riza Hawkeye’s tattoo, the course of Roy Mustang’s life has been permanently altered.

(angst with a happy ending)

[just-a-sad-sad-frog]

Eagerly awaiting chihiro fujisaki

(Very sorry for the wait I had a strong case of the lifen't and no motivation)

Okay, let's delve into the fashion of Chihiro Fujisaki, the Ultimate Programmer from Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc. (I LOVE HIS CLOTHES SO MUCH AAAAA *cries because I shall never be able to dress like him*)

Overall Impression: Chihiro's aesthetic is best described as deliberately child-like and traditionally feminine, bordering on androgynous. This is not a random choice; it's a visual shield crafted to protect them from a cruel world that shunned him

Key Elements and Their Significance:School Uniform Style: The core of Chihiro's outfit is kind of a uniform, a standard blazer/cardigan/jacket (idfk what to call it), white shirt, and a pleated skirt.

Blazer/Cardigan/Jacket (again i don't know what to call it so blazer is what im going to call it): I like the blazer. Very green very yes. I would wear.

Knee-High Socks: Common for school uniforms, Chihiro's knee-high black socks contribute to the youthful and almost childlike appearance because of the school association with long socks. They visually shorten their legs (at least for me it does) and further enhances the impression of being small.

Pleated Skirt: The pleated skirt, while standard, is also part of the "uniformity" that Chihiro seeks in a group setting, allowing them to blend in.

Really exaggerated collar:

✨️very eye catching✨️

✨️draws your eyes up✨️

✨️frames the face and sets it off so the face is the first thing you look at✨️

(✨️why am i here✨️)

Color Palette: The colors are muted and subdued:Neutrals: The colors are green (blazer), black (bow and socks), and a brown/dark beige (is that a colour???) (skirt). These colors are soft and calming, contributing to the feeling of non-assertiveness and is nice. In my professional opinion as a frog I love it because because green.

Lack of Vibrant Colors: The absence of vibrant or bold colors reinforces Chihiro’s quiet and introverted nature. They are not trying to draw attention to themselves through their clothing.

Flicky hair: (IF FROGS HAD HAIR I WANT HIS.) This Is all I have to say

Accessories (or Lack of): Chihiro wears very minimal accessories (none), further keeping their overall aesthetic simple and not attention grabbing. The lack of jewelry or other adornments emphasizes their focus on function over fashion and doesn’t draw too much attention.

Psychological and Narrative Significance:

Gender Presentation: Chihiro's feminine presentation, particularly the skirt, is revealed later in the story that this is a way for them to hide their gender and avoid being bullied. The clothing becomes a symbolic representation of hiding one's true self.

Irony: The irony is that Chihiro, despite appearing weak and fragile, is actually incredibly talented in programming. Their clothing acts as a misdirection, leading others to underestimate their abilities.

Contrast with Talent: The contrast between Chihiro's seemingly delicate appearance and their incredible programming abilities creates a fascinating juxtaposition. It challenges the viewer to question assumptions about people based solely on their outward appearance.

In Conclusion:

Chihiro is a legend and an icon and if anyone says otherwise then they can, politely, go and fuck themselves. (I could do a long waffle like I normally do but I can't be fucking bothered so adios)

@ask-chihiro-fujisaki14-roleplay ₍𝄐 ̫͡ 𝄐₎

[cryptid-juzou]

*knock knock* trick or treeeeaaaaat ☠️ 🍬 🏚️ 👻 🫣 🎃 💀👀

🎃👻Your little 🍬treatie🍬 shall be a snippet from my 'they should be at the club' self indulgent skk fic 👻🎃 It kinda just...ends, because I haven't written further than that, but I hope you like what is there.

In the early hours of the morning in one of Yokohama's districts known for it's nightlife, a compact man with a deep scowl on his freckled face, was weaving in and out of the mass of people. He had been searching up and down this street for the last 40 minutes, head swivelling around trying to locate someone, but was disadvantaged by being at least a head shorter than most of the crowd.

He was also impeded numerous times by the approach of giggling drunks trying to get his number or convince him to join their group drinking. It was irritating, but he was used to the attention, it was hard to avoid when one stood out as he did. His fiery red hair and freckles were a rare sight in Japan, and he knew the choker at his throat also caught the eye, but could not bring himself to remove it to draw less attention, he had worn it for so long it felt like an actual part of him.

At that thought his fingers came up to idly play with the thin strip adorning his neck, and was reminded of who had given it to him, causing his anger, temporarily abated while fending off his latest admirer, to come back in full force. ‘Over 40 minutes late, to a joint operation his fucking agency asked for help on, Dazai is getting his ass kicked,’ he furiously thought, once again vainly trying to find Dazai over the sea of heads. 

‘Fuck this,’ he muttered as a red glow enveloped him. Using his ability in a street full of ordinary people would cause a disturbance, Mori would certainly have words for him when the mafia employees who were staked out at several local establishments for various contracts reported this back. But with Chuuya’s mounting anger it was rapidly becoming a choice between using his ability to levitate sedately over the crowd for a better vantage point, or keeping up his search and then losing his shit and throwing people around with gravity until he unearthed Dazai.

But his feet never left the ground, the red haze dissipating as quickly as it had formed, Chuuya almost stumbled, his body feeling awkward and heavy when he had been expecting to be weightless. Confused, he tried to ascend again with no success. Then it clicked, he gnashed his teeth, his face twisting in fury as he spun around, leg kicking out towards the space directly behind him, almost making contact with the body that had occupied that space until a fraction of a second ago.

“Nee, Chuuya, kicking me is no way to pay me back for stopping you from doing something stupid. We’re supposed to keep a low profile tonight, remember.  Although, the man, Dazai, overtly looked him up and down, “It’s a bit hard to keep a low profile when you’re dressed like that. Those pants look glued on, and a leather jacket, really? Ohhh, did you get dressed up for little old me, I’m flattered, ” Dazai continued, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. 

‘Urrgh shut up asshole, you told me to wear something that I’d wear on a night out, to fit in with the rest of this lot,’ Chuuya gestured  to the surrounding people. ‘This…this is what I would wear, this is an outfit regular people would wear, right?,’ Halfway through Chuuya’s tone switched from angry and confrontational, to more uncertain, and his face slightly flushed, barely visible in the dim multicolored lighting from the surrounding venues. 

Dazai takes pity on Chuuya and chooses not to mention that Chuuya didn’t deny the outfit was to impress Dazai. He wouldn’t believe him anyway, Dazai has made his feelings about those pants very obvious whenever he got the chance to see Chuuya in them.

[dcfanficsgalore]

Didn't Plan for This: Chapter 3

Wonder Woman x Demigod!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Guns, punches, mention of blood

4.9k words

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Summary: This is your chance to impress the Justice League, you hope everything goes well…

A/N: Merry Chritsmas! I did not think this would be out before the end of the year. I discovered I have a VERY hard time imagining things that aren't conversations. So a fight of this scale was SUPER hard. I'll probably avoid fights like this in the future. But still I hope you enjoyed it. Drawings of the machines and monsters are coming in the future <3

I opened my eyes when the machine stopped glowing and sure enough, we were back in New York. As soon as we got out I realized we were standing in a different part of the city ‘multiple teles so you can always have a way out, nice!’ I thought. 

Diana looked at me with a serious expression on her face.

- What do you know of the Intergang? - she asked 

- I know that they are bad, at least that’s what the TV news says - I racked my brain for information about this gang but my knowledge about the criminal world was not the best.

- That’s all you need to know about them, but also, that they have access to weapons that are not from our world so we need to approach carefully - she said picking me up for another flight, I noticed that she said we needed to approach with care but I knew she meant that I needed to be careful - You might want to think strategies to fight big guys with big guns - she looked down at me and smiled.

- Do we have backup? - I asked, needing all the information I could get my hands on. This was a pretty big step up from my building falling and I didn’t have any plans that accounted for that. 

She told me we were going to meet up with Batman and Cyborg a little bit outside of the fight, happening in a secluded part of Central Park, so that we could strategize but that Superman and Flash were already fighting a few of them, as the Integang apparently had some kind of earth minions that were heading towards the city and meant harm to civilians.

She also told me that Intergang had a couple of people that were the “Brains” of the operation - she used air quotes while we were flying and that was a scare that we laughed off - so without them the gang would likely scatter but that would mean they would guard the hell out of them.

As we approached the rooftop that Batman and Cyborg were on, my nerves were going through the roof. Diana must’ve felt my heartbeat on her chest when I held onto her a little more tightly, she whispered in my ear.

- Don’t worry, you’ll do fine, just talk to them like you talk to me and they’ll treat you like a peer. - she said as a way to calm me down, which worked. Her accent and the low tone of her voice made for a great tranquilizer.

- You're probably right - I said, taking in a deep breath and silently praying to Athena for strength and the ability to not get tongue-tied in front of earth’s protectors.

We landed 8.3 feet away from them and immediately I could feel Batman glaring at me and Cyborg studying every aspect about me. He was about to say something when Diana spoke first.

- This is Y/N, she is my friend. I have seen her first-hand act like a hero out of her own accord, intentionally putting herself in danger so that she could save others. I trust her. - This seemed to be enough to silence them both Batman sending me one last distrusting glare before returning his attention to the Robot-Man pulling up a detailed hologram of the area that the fight was taking place in, complete with little Earth-Warriors and little frozen miniatures of Superman and Flash. 

Looking from the building to the part of the park they were fighting - a couple of miles down the building - the two heroes seemed to be holding their own, but a big detail that was both in the hologram and painfully obvious from where I was standing was the huge machine pumping out the Earthlings. It looked like a 20 foot tall virus with a cannon spitting out Earthlings as they were created, when it did, the ground shook. - less than the earthquake from a few days back - It was clear it was taking materials from the earth to make these things. I turned back to the group just in time to see Diana receiving some kind of order from Batman, she looked displeased but nodded. When I got close to group she said

- I’m gonna go try and slow those things down, they are not as big as last time. - she said quietly - Apparently the giant machine is made from something truly unbreakable so our only chance is you three coming up with a way to stop the machine from digging to the center of the earth making those dirt-people. I trust you all will be able to do so without taking too much time. - She looked at me and that look told me that she trusted the other two not to shun me out, so I nodded, trusting her heart.

Diana’s look hardened until I realized that was her Wonder Woman look, she was on a mission, and no one was going to stop her. She flew towards the fight and Batman turned to me.

- Wonder Woman might trust you with her heart, but I judge a person based on their brain. Who are you? - His look compelled me to say everything about me and I wondered if he truly had no powers as everyone said.

- I’m Y/N L/N, a daughter of Athena, the goddess of Wisdom, War and Battle Strategy. I am the Chief of Security at my company though my boss doesn’t know of my heritage. Only my best friend knows my secret. - I said looking into his eyes so he knew I was telling the truth.

I left out the part of me sending the Hall of Justice a mountain of plans and contingencies as I didn’t know if they had ever seen them. Apparently Cyborg had other ideas, because when I stopped he said.

- She’s the one who’s been sending plans to make the world safe for so long - He spoke looking into space, either looking into the League’s records or not wanting to see the glare I sent him.

Batman ‘hmm’d and just nodded turning back to the holograph, I had done well… Yes! I thought to myself.

- First things first - he said not looking away from the hologram - Cyborg won’t be able to get too close, they have tech that overrides his systems, making him unable to use his robot parts - Cyborg looked at me and nodded sadly. - So our plan will have to work without him to back us up.

- So… Can you see who is controlling the machine? Do they have a base? Or a control panel? - I asked hopeful to get a weak point that we could target

- Yes. - Batman said - The machine must be controlled by Ugly Mannheim, the leader, he’s holed up somewhere around there but my and Cyborg’s scanners aren’t picking him up. But he must be close enough so he can still order his men around and get a lookout on the operation - He said Mannheim’s name without an ounce of irony so that must be what he goes by all the time. Poor guy…

I thought through all the options and looked at the hologram, noticing a distinct lack of goons in one flank. It was small enough that they wouldn’t notice but worrying enough so that it would take just a single soldier to- 

- There! - I said pointing at the space. We needed to find the remote but until we could pinpoint the leader, our focus had to be on the goons and Earthlings. - Can you ask Flash to go through there? He should be able to get behind them and split their attention long enough so we can make more holes in their line, that should make them easier to dispose of.

Batman and Cyborg stared at the map, looking for mistakes on my plan, I know it. When they seemed to not find anything to complain about, Batman put a finger to his mask and said through his comm.

- Flash, I need you to go through the hole they have in their defenses a few yards out from your position. - He stayed silent and I assumed Flash was saying an acknowledgement.

I looked out from the edge of the building and saw that the goons were starting to look around more, meaning that their attention was split between the supers in front and behind them. The Earthlings didn't seem to care, only seeming concerned with getting to the city, but Superman was taking care of them.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Cyborg holding a little earpiece

- It’s one of our communication devices, that way you don’t have to wait for the Bat to say your plan and maybe butcher it. - He said with a smile, I smiled back and put the device on my ear.

Immediately I was able to hear the battle. We weren’t losing, but not making progress. The goons being taken care of was all well and good, but the machine was still pumping Earthlings out and making the city shake more and more. Nothing like the shake that almost destroyed my building, which was starting to worry me.

I was going back to the map when I realized Batman was not here anymore and Cyborg gave me a sympathetic look

- He does that, but he’s right there - He pointed to the mini-batman on the map.

- Oh, okay. Did he tell you his plan - I asked, but the shake of his head told me this was gonna be difficult. Looking at the trajectory told me that his target was the machine, he might want to study it before trying something big. But the monsters coming out of it might prove to be a challenge for the Dark Knight.

- He’s gonna run into the earth-guys - Cyborg stated. Itching to go down and help.

- Batman, seven Earthlings right ahead. You’re gonna run into them in seconds. - I said into the comm device

- Earthlings? - I heard what I thought was Flash saying and chuckle - I like it. Who is the new girl?

- Y/N - I heard Diana say - She’s a good planner, I suggest you all listen to her. And I also like Earthlings - She chuckled before being cut-off by what I can only assume was a dirt punch.

- Better than the Bat? - A voice that could only belong to Superman said, it was pretty obvious that he wanted Diana to say it. - You know he has files on all of us and the best way to take out each of us - He chuckled, I didn’t that sounded like major trust issues. But they all laughed along so I assumed this was old news and none of them believed they needed those plans.

- I don’t know if she is as paranoid! - Diana tossed it back, chuckling, everyone’s spirits seemed to be uplifted until…

big earthquake. No, not again

- Look out! - I heard flash say and looking at the map it seemed that the Bat was on top of the machine.

I could see it for a second as the building we were on started to crumble and I only had a moment to notice the map before Cyborg picked me up and flew us down. But the quake must’ve knocked something into place for us because I saw someone that was not with the League somewhat close to me and Cyborg, he had to have felt it too because I looked at him when we landed and he immediately knew what I was going to do.

- I can’t go with you. - He said maybe expecting me to wait for the others but that plan was thrown out the window when…

A roar, an actual roar

A creature literally burst through the machine, that was one problem dealt with, but now the beast was bigger than the machine and also angry, whatever Batman did solved one problem but created another. The creature started to make its way towards the city before being pushed back by superman.

- I’m going - I said, he nodded. I touched my ear - Diana, Cyborg and I think we saw the one controlling all this and I’m going after them. - she started to say no but I cut her off - You guys are busy with the monster, whoever has the remote is busy making the creature fight you guys, this is our best chance. - I got her to agree with me and I started to run to where I saw this person.

I knew I got them when I started to hear the cursing and rustling of leaves. I immediately went to a crouch and began creeping towards the sound.

- Stupid heroes - a female voice said - The boss won’t be happy when he hears that his machine was destroyed. - she said.

- Shouldn’t we call him so he can get us out of here? - Another voice said. It was a male voice and he seemed nervous. I couldn’t blame him

- Not before we make the Big Boy crush the heroes - she said, and that was all I needed to hear before pulling out my enchanted dagger and doing something I shouldn’t have done without practice.

We Athena kids have weird abilities, having a good knowledge of distance without a ruler is just one of them, it’s also the one I’m best at. Another one that I have been practicing is being able to “see” through an owl’s eyes, it’s not seeing per se but more, using the owl’s perception of the place to be aware of my surroundings. But saying I can see, while easier, would be a lie.

I also say I have been practicing but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it, it usually ends with me having a nose bleed and being very aware of some rats on the alley behind my house.

But this time it had to be different, I saw an owl on top of the tree I was hiding behind, she must have a nest there and didn’t seem to be afraid of the strange people on her turf.

I took a deep breath and concentrated, imagining myself on top of the tree and seeing the intruders on my turf, I stopped listening through my ears and concentrated on the voices of these strangers that should leave.

I became aware of three people around me, one behind my tree that gave me a sense of familiarity and two others in front of my home, they shouldn’t be here, I remembered seeing them get here after leaving a strange smoking bush. The woman, tall with red hair, seemed angry with the muscly, tall man but their fighting stopped as soon as the big Earth-Man burst through the strangest and biggest bug I’ve ever seen. The man got a box with a huge antenna out of the bush and started fiddling with it, the woman telling him to crush the heroes before my nose started bleeding. Wait, that’s not the owl’s thoughts!

My nose started bleeding and I lost my concentration but I already had everything I needed, so I got ready to jump out of my hiding place. They were alone, which was weird but I wasn’t gonna question my good luck.

As soon as I jumped out I immediately threw my magical dagger at the controller so they couldn’t make the monster hurt the heroes anymore. I jumped on top of the brute and using my weight brought him down, crossing my legs on his neck hopefully cutting his airway, he seemed surprised to be brought down by a woman smaller than in such little time but he quickly got his thoughts together and reached for my legs but using my hands I reached for his wrist and twisted it around, making him scream.

After the initial shock wore off, the red headed woman started to pull out her gun, I noticed that and started to reach for my dagger still stuck to the controller, it was about 3 meters away from me and I had no time to dislodge it from the machine. So I just threw the whole thing at her, using all my strength it hit her on her head bringing her down, but she was still not out.

The man was still trying to get off of him but his efforts had been slowing down since I broke his wrist, to speed up this process I gave him a well placed punch on the temple knocking him out. 

Quickly jumping onto my feet I grabbed his… Gun? It looked like a gun but not any caliber I’ve seen. It didn’t have a magazine so I couldn’t see if it was loaded, it was decorated with the same red details on black metal that the giant machine had. I didn’t have much time to study it when the woman started to get up, a cut on her forehead from where my improvised club got her, I pointed the gun at her and said.

- Stand down Manheim - It was a guess but she seemed to be in charge and maybe Batman got her gender wrong.

She looked at me and laughed

- Ugly ain’t here, he’s back at the base - she gave a glance towards the controller with the dagger inside it.

- How do I make the giant stand down? - I asked as the battle continued behind me, I refused to take my eyes off of this woman?

- Why should I tell you? - she said with a smirk that made my blood boil.

Just as I was about to respond she reached around her back and shot at me, I ducked and the shot hit the tree behind me, taking a chunk off of it and leaving a smoking hole behind.

She took the opportunity to start running away, with me taking off right at her heels, I thought about shooting her but after seeing what this thing had done to the tree I didn’t feel comfortable shooting her without it being fatal. But then inspiration struck just as we turned a corner and I saw a very big branch on a tree, right as she ran under it I shot it, pinning her down as the branch fell on top of her, knocking her gun away from her hand.

- Now, will you tell me how to make the giant Earthling stop? - I asked her, crouching down to be at eye level 

She glared me but I kept my gaze sturdy, eventually she looked down to the ground and said

- You could never control it without the device that you broke - she said in a low voice.

- Stay here, I’ll be right back - I said making my way back to the device 

- Please, take your time - she yelled while I ran back

When I got to the spot where I had my fight I saw that the controller wasn’t really broken, even with the knife I threw at it, it looked like it was regenerating from the scuffle. I pulled my dagger out and it quite clearly repaired itself from the damage. The brute was still passed out but I still tied him up with some vines generously donated by my owl friend.

When I got back the red head was very surprised to see the controller in pristine shape.

- How did you… - she started but I cut her off.

- How do I make it stop? - I used my most dangerous look.

- I don’t know… - she said gulping - we were only told what buttons makes the machine and the Mineral Soldiers ‘Go’ not how to stop it - I groaned 

- That’s just great! - I said a little too angrily, making her cower a little, before getting an idea - What buttons makes it go?

- Oh you press that and hold the lever in the direction you want it to go - She showed me and it was super close to how you usually drive a car in a game, better for me I guess  - What are you going to do?

- It’s a little dirty, I’m thinking it could a swim in the lake - I said smirking

- NO! You can’t! - She said, panicking a little. She started to shake under the log that pinned her down.  - My boss will kill me! 

- Maybe I could have a talk with him if you tell me where he is. I’m sure he’ll listen to reason - I responded, more focused in making the giant Earthling take a dive.

- You would die before ever getting to see him. - She continued to try and get out from under her branch. - I’m gonna kill you myself as soon as I get out of here

I stopped listening to her, concentrating entirely in turning the giant to sludge. The lake became closer to the giant, the League having stopped their assault on the thing when it became clear its primary target wasn’t the city anymore.

Once it stepped into the water it very quickly started to become smaller until the lake started to overflow with all the mud and minerals that made up the Earthling.

- Y/N the Earthling just took a dive, literally - I heard Flash say - Do you know what happened?

- It’s best if you all get over here, it’ll be easier to explain - I said letting out a huge sigh while looking over at the strange woman that was still screaming about my death while making no progress on the large piece of wood on top of her.

After I finished my explanation of the events, Batman and the Flash rounded the two crooks up while Diana and I went over to check out the technological bush that hid them from both Batman and Cyborg, Superman flew around the park and city to make sure nobody was injured too much from the earthquake that destroying the machine caused.

As Diana and I approached the mechanical bush she started look at me more, before saying:

- You took down two intergang members by yourself, knocked one down, trapped the other and led the giant to its doom? 

I blushed hard and shrugged

- I mean, it all happened so fast I feel like I wasn’t even in control. Just reacting to everything. I also had a little help from the owl that lives here. - I smiled shyly

- Still, you had the guts to go up against two hardened criminals and their dirt monster with only a knife and your wits? You are a true warrior. - she smiled proudly and I could see a little admiration in her eyes. 

- She told her goon to kill you, all of you, I couldn’t let that happen. - I told her a little exasperated - Not when we still have a date to finish. - I finished throwing a smile.

She giggled.

- I have to say, I didn’t think this was how our date was going to go, but I’m glad you didn’t shy away from a battle, especially one so close to home.

- New York won’t be my home for long. But still, I owe it to the city - She looked like she was going to ask what I meant by that but we got to the place the two members were using to duck the League’s scanners.

It looked like a… I don’t actually know what on earth it was, never seen anything like it. The best way to describe it would be a large cube hastily hidden with branches and leaves. I had a big crack on the side and it seemed that the perp was a particularly large durian, I didn’t even know those came from trees. 

I looked at Diana to see if she recognized the thing but her expression told me nothing, so I just shrugged and went in.

Going inside didn’t help with my confusion, there was a console with many buttons and levers that I was not brave enough to press. The walls were made of the same weird black metal the controller was made of and the red details were abundant, there was a cracked screen in front of the console that flickered with images of the outside. In english on a little screen on the console it said: “hull damaged turning off camouflage”. And what I assume was the same thing but in an alien language right next to it.

- We should leave - Diana said abruptly 

- What! Why? 

- This is apocoliptikan tech highly dangerous, you should not be here. WE should not be here. - she started to usher me out.

- What does that mean? Why are you so scared? 

- It means those two are working for someone far more powerful than you can imagine, this is probably not even the full power of the machine we destroyed. It was most likely a prototype.

- A prototype capable of causing massive earthquakes? Who can do such a thing? - I asked, as we met up with Flash, Batman and Cyborg who could get near us now with the machine destroyed.

- We don’t know. - Batman said simply.

- What we know is that my tech comes from the same place, that’s why I had to stay or else we’d risk me going berserk on all of us - Cyborg explained.

- What we can do is take all of this tech to Star Labs, so they can study it - Flash said picking up the remote from the ground

- Your job here is done Y/N. You have impressed us with your wit and battle prowess. - Batman said, making me blush very hard. By the looks of the others, compliments aren’t usually given out by the Bat.

- Y-yeah rookie, you did very well in taking down both of them by yourself - Cyborg said in a stupor probably caused by Batman’s surge of compliments

- All right guys, give her space. She must be tired from having just beaten up two hardened criminals by herself - Diana said, starting to pull me away from the group.

- One more thing - Batman said walking up to us - If you ever want to get into this life, I’m sure Wonder Woman would be willing to show you the ropes. And when you’re ready, you call this number - He gave me a card that was all blank except for a phone number in the middle.

At this point, being so close to Diana and having Batman try and initiate me into the superhero life. I couldn’t trust my mouth to not say something stupid so I just nodded.

- Y/N, would you like to go to your place? - Diana whispered in my ear and I nodded again, feeling us take off and seeing the guys start to get smaller all I could think was how insane all this was.

While we were flying, I held onto Diana and stayed quiet. It was comfortable silence, just me, her, and the sounds of the city below us. I lived quite far away from Central Park so the consequences of the quakes started to disappear as we got closer to my apartment. 

When we got there she put me down in front of the door and said

- You’re delivered… - She chuckled awkwardly 

- Yeah, would you like to come in? - I asked without thinking - I mean… If you want to use the bathroom or something, I know you didn’t when we were in Greece nor when we were in the battle, I guess. - Nailed it!

She laughed and said

- No thank you, I’m sure I’m needed back at the site of the fight. But know that I had a very good time on our date. - She said smiling

- I-I also had a good time, I never felt like I did when I was fighting those two. The rush is…

- Nothing like you ever felt before. - She completed - I know how you feel.

- I guess this is goodbye then. 

- I’ll call you tomorrow when all of this is taken care of then we can- - I cut her off by getting on my tippy toes and kissing her.

The kiss was everything I imagined and more, after getting over her initial shock she quickly reciprocated it, we felt so in sync and right with each other. 

After air became too much of a necessity for both of us we parted, I stopped tip toeing and just smiled at her. She also had the biggest smile on her face. Right now, we were just hugging.

- I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait for the next date at this moment. - I said into her shoulder.

- I couldn’t either, but I didn’t know if you wanted it to be this fast. - She said, resting her chin on top of my head.

We separated and after one last peck on her lips I said

- Call me as soon as you get home.

- Yes ma’am - she replied chuckling

And with that, I went into my building and started to make my way into my apartment.

As soon as I went inside I was tackle- hugged by Ana

- Thank god you’re okay Y/N. I saw the news and when they showed Wonder Woman I just knew you were also in there. I was so scared you were gonna get hurt or worse… - She said as tears started to trickle down from her eyes. 

- Hey Ana. I’m okay, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just really tired and in dire need of a shower. How about we have dinner and tomorrow I’ll tell you everything? Okay?

She sniffled.

- Okay, I’ll put on our favorite show and we’ll rewatch that. I’m gonna make us some popcorn. You go take your shower. - She said after giving me one last hug and letting me go.

As I was getting ready to shower I noticed in my pocket the card Baman gave me, after staring at it for a while, all I could think was

what comes next?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4

[heartless-aro]

2 and 12 for the aplatonic ask

2. Is there any intersection with your aplatonic identity and other identities you have?

Okay, so this one is a bit of a long explanation. The biggest intersection would probably be the intersection between my aplatonicism and my neurodivergence, since my aplatonicism is intrinsically linked to my schizoid personality disorder. For those unfamiliar with SzPD, in order to receive a diagnosis (as I have), you must meet the general criteria for a personality disorder as well as at least four of the following:

1. Neither desires nor enjoys close relationships, including being part of a family

2. Almost always chooses solitary activities

3. Has little, if any, interest in having sexual experiences with another person

4. Takes pleasure in few, if any, activities

5. Lacks close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives

6. Appears indifferent to the praise or criticism of others

7. Shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affectivity

Now, while some of these criteria are certainly VERY flawed (for reasons that are probably obvious to most aspecs if you think about it for even just a minute) and can be difficult to distinguish from similar conditions like other personality disorders, autism, and depression, this does not change the fact that this is a very real condition, and it happens to be one which has had a serious impact on my life. It interferes with my ability to enjoy my hobbies, my ability to feel pleasure from my successes, my ability to motivate myself, to empathize with others, to fully feel and express my emotions (including positive feelings such as excitement and joy as well as negative ones like anger and grief), and—of course—my ability to form and maintain friendships.

I have people in my life who I care about, but it is very difficult for me to enjoy spending time with them or to want to seek out their company. This includes friends, and it includes family members as well. I enjoy socializing a bit more when it’s at a distance, such as through texting, social media, or online forums. Whenever I’m interacting with someone face-to-face, even if they’re one of my favorite people in the world, I often spend most of my time thinking about how badly I want to go home and isolate myself for as long as I can get away with.

So, how does this play into my aplatonicism? I find that I’m sometimes able to feel an initial spark of what I think is platonic attraction, if someone seems particularly cool or interesting to me and—because I admittedly have a bit of an ego, even if I keep that to myself well enough—I like trying to get them to like me or find me interesting and impressive. (Unfortunately, appearing indifferent to praise or criticism is not the same as actually being indifferent to praise and criticism. Tragic, I know.).

But once I’ve had some time to get to know a person and gotten past the phase of getting their praise or approval, I tend to lose interest, because the next phase would be actually building a deep and meaningful platonic relationship (which is something I struggle to find pleasure in). As a result, that initial spark of platonic attraction fades pretty quickly. If I had to put a microlabel on it, I’d maybe call myself lithplatonic?

12. Thoughts on the "power of friendship" trope? And other similar platonic-heavy tropes and stories?

My feelings about this are a little complicated, because while I do think it’s a bit platonormative, I also think that it can make a bit of sense, because there is strength in numbers, and sometimes accepting help (as much as I tend to avoid doing so myself) is the best way to accomplish your goals and make it through hardship. I think my main problem with tropes like these are that they tend to imply that it has to be friendship that you draw your strength from, and if you don’t have friends, then you’re evil/bad/weak/whatever. I do understand why a lot of alloplatonic people in the aro community gravitate towards that trope though, and I think it says a lot about how society tends to rank relationships that “love conquers all” is a theme which is treated as suitable for adult media, whereas “power of friendship” is seen as more infantile and less serious.

[kaybonbon]

Thank you so much for responding to my HC ask! I have some thoughts based on canon. I hope it's okay to share since this ship is small and I need someone with the same hyperfixation to talk to!

So based on canon, I feel like by the time Roger hosts Doug's 1 year anniversary at his place, he's aware he likes him. He's not aware to what extent that "like" goes (frenemy like?), but he's conscious of it, which makes all the bullying that continues suspect. I'm not sure when the ferris wheel episode takes place in relation to the anniversary episode, but I think it's interesting he seemed dead-set on sitting next to Doug. Roger's absent father and busy mother have been pain points for Roger that he desperately tries not to show, so Doug suggesting Mr. Dink partner with Roger for the wheelbarrow race was probably a big deal for Roger (and again, I don't know where in the timeline this falls). Then on graduation day, on the cusp of transitioning to middle school, I think that "like" intensifies after Doug's pep talk and maybe he finally figures it out not long after.

As for subconscious attraction, I think you're right. I think it started as soon as Doug fell on his face at Honker Burger and got ketchup on his boots. Maybe Doug's blush did it and that triggered a confused and therefore angry response.

I personally like to think that Roger picks on Doug because receiving positive attention from someone he likes scares him. Because positive attention and affection can just disappear at the drop of a hat. Based on his family history, I think he may have avoidant-dismissive and disorganized attachment styles. He needs to feel tough and independent because he's alone in his trailer a lot, and he likely envies Doug's more secure family and home, as well as his inate ability to make friends easily. And I think the fact that Doug is considerate of Roger despite his contradictory push-pull behavior means a lot to him because he's starved for positive attention that Doug gives everyone so easily.

Anyway, yeah. Sorry for the text dump, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on all this because I love Roger and think he's more interesting than he gets credit for. Also, is the drawing of Roger hugging himself and crying part of Project Sunflower? Is he heartbroken to learn Doug slept with Patti? Can't wait to see this comic and any art you make off this amazing ship!

Please share away! To your point this fandom is teeny tiny and needs all the love and discourse it can get! 

You really know your stuff! I think you’ve hit the nail on the head with just about everything.

I’m inclined to agree with you that Roger was more likely to have realized his feelings even earlier than I was speculating. That subconscious attraction was there from the get go, but to your point Roger hosting a party at his place solely for Doug’s anniversary speaks volumes. I’d like to think it was his idea but he would never admit it.

The episode you mentioned with the Ferris Wheel is “Doug’s Fair Lady”, another one of my favorites. That takes place prior to the Party Roger hosts for Doug and you’re absolutely right, Roger would’ve killed for that seat.

One could argue that Roger became aware of his feelings as early as season 1 in “Doug Takes a Hike”. Roger teases Doug relentlessly in this episode, but when a snake shows up, Roger goes immediately into protection mode. Despite his crippling fear of snakes, he puts himself between the snake and Doug.

When Doug protects him in turn by not exposing his fear of snakes to the rest of the group, I think it really leaves an impression on Roger. “This person had every opportunity to humiliate me and get me back, but he didn’t. He protected me.” For the short remainder of the episode, Roger goes out of his way to be nice to Doug, something we don’t really see too often.

“I personally like to think that Roger picks on Doug because receiving positive attention from someone he likes scares him. Because positive attention and affection can just disappear at the drop of a hat.” 

THIS. THIS SO HARD!

Roger desperately wants to be close to people but the fear of losing them is so strong that he inadvertently ends up pushing them away. He’s obsessed with his image and what others think about him which screams he’s struggling with personal identity and self esteem issues.

Roger’s parents are big factors in this. Roger clearly wants his father in his life but his dad is off somewhere else at all important times. His mom is there but she works herself to the bone trying to support herself and Roger so when she physically is around she still isn’t fully “present” for Roger. Doug on the other hand has a wonderful family life with both parents being present and active in their children’s lives.

The drawing you’re referring to was actually inspired by a famous Sailor Moon screen shot that I felt perfectly encapsulated Roger’s internal struggle and his sorrow whilst no one is looking. 

Thank you so much for the asks! It warms my heart knowing others are interested!

[vegasaros]

Is that ANGIE HARMON? No, that’s just VEGA KATSAROS. They were born on 21/10/1979 and are a SHAPESHIFTER (BOTH BLOODLINES) living in Northknot Town. They work as a CURATOR AT NORTHKNOT HISTORICAL MUSEUM. Some say they're GROUNDING and INTROSPECTIVE, but I’ve heard others say they're AVOIDANT and INDECISIVE. When you think of HER/THEM, don’t you think of GOLDEN HOUR SHADOWS DANCING OVER WEATHERED SKIN, LOOSE-KNIT SWEATERS THAT FEEL LIKE AN EMBRACE and QUIET SMILES THAT LIGHT UP STORMY SKIES?

Name: Vega Aisling Lior Katsaros Nickname(s): V, Kat Birthday: October 21st, 1979 Age: 45 Zodiac Sign: Libra Sun, Scorpio Moon, Cancer Rising Gender: Cis-Female/Gender Fluid Pronouns: She/They Species: Shapeshifter (Luna & Selena Bloodlines) Orientation: Demisexual, Panromantic Occupation: Curator at Northknot Historical Museum/Mixed Bloodlines Coven Leader Faceclaim: Angie Harmon

HEADCANONS

Vega means "the swooping eagle" in Arabic, Aisling is Irish for "dream" or "vision" and Lior is "my light" in Hebrew.

Vega's favorite animal to shift into is a sleek black panther, which they find both empowering and comforting.

She enjoys painting and often uses her art to express her emotions and experiences.

She has a soft spot for Greek cuisine, especially moussaka and baklava.

Vega loves listening to a mix of traditional folk music from various cultures and modern indie rock.

They've collected small trinkets and souvenirs from every place they visit and keep them in a special box.

Vega practices meditation daily to maintain their mental and emotional balance.

They love autumn for its vibrant colors and the sense of change it brings.

She is fluent in Greek, English, and Hindi, and knows basic phrases in several other languages.

Vega's wardrobe is a mix of practical clothing and unique pieces from different cultures, reflecting their travels.

They have a small garden where they grow herbs and flowers, finding peace in nurturing plants.

She is more active and creative at night, often staying up late to work on projects or reflect.

She has a tattoo of a phoenix on her back, symbolizing rebirth and resilience.

Vega enjoys cooking and often experiments with recipes from different cultures.

Their favorite color is deep blue, which reminds them of the ocean and the sky.

She has a special fondness for the beaches of Greece, where she feels most at peace.

Vega believes in living a life true to oneself, even if it means going against societal norms.

They are surprisingly good at playing the guitar and often play to relax.

Vega dreams of one day opening an art gallery that showcases works from diverse cultures and artists.

APPEARANCE

Vega stands tall with a commanding presence, their dark hair framing a strong jawline that speaks to their inner strength. Her deep, raspy voice carries a sense of authority and wisdom, making her a natural leader. Vega's movements are deliberate and confident, reflecting their balanced nature and the fluidity of their shifting abilities. Their eyes hold a depth of experience and understanding, drawing people in and making them feel seen and valued. Despite the toll her illness has taken, Vega's appearance remains striking, embodying both her resilience and her vulnerability. She has a well-defined, athletic build that hints at her active lifestyle and her love for sports and physical activities. Vega's style is a blend of practicality and personal expression, often incorporating elements from the various cultures they've encountered in their travels. Their walk is purposeful, exuding confidence and determination, while their speech is measured and thoughtful, often leaving a lasting impression on those who hear them. Vega's presence is both calming and inspiring, making her a figure of strength and support.

PERSONALITY

Vega is a resilient and compassionate individual who has faced numerous challenges throughout her life. As a mother and coven leader, they balance strength and empathy, leading with love, grace, and a fierce protectiveness. Vega is deeply supportive and generous, always putting others' needs before her own. Despite their struggles with illness, they remain dedicated to helping those around them, though they tend to distance themselves emotionally. Vega values individuality and encourages others to find their own path and purpose, even as she grapples with the consequences of her own choices. Their ability to embrace both their human and animal sides, as well as their non-binary identity, speaks to their fluid and adaptable nature. Vega is also very introspective and thoughtful, often reflecting on her past experiences to guide their decisions. She has a strong sense of justice and is not afraid to stand up for what she believes in, even if it means going against the norms of their community.

AESTHETIC

the serenity of a quiet beach at dawn - the glow of fireflies on a summer night - golden hour shadows dancing over weathered skin - the comfort of a well-loved book - loose-knit sweaters that feel like an embrace - the earthy scent of a blooming garden - quiet smiles that light up stormy skies - the tranquility of a mountain retreat - the rustle of leaves in a hidden forest - worn leather journals filled with secrets - the soft hum of a guitar at twilight - delicate tattoos that tell a story - the warmth of a steaming cup of tea - whispered conversations under a starlit sky - the gentle sway of a hammock in the breeze - the embrace of a handwoven blanket

CONNECTIONS

Child (Edeline) Vega's child is a curious and adventurous individual, inheriting their parent's love for exploration and learning. They have a strong sense of justice and a compassionate heart, always eager to help others. Growing up with Vega, they have learned the importance of balance and acceptance, embracing their own unique identity. They are fiercely protective of their mother and often worry about Vega, noticing the subtle changes in her that others might miss. Despite their young age, 25-26, they possess a wisdom beyond their years and a determination to make a difference in the world.

Best Friend/Future Love Interest? Vega's best friend is a skilled and empathetic doctor who has been a constant source of support throughout Vega's life. They share a deep bond built on trust and understanding, often providing a listening ear and sage advice. This friend is perceptive and intuitive, able to sense when Vega is struggling even when they try to hide it. They are fiercely loyal and protective, always ready to step in and help, whether it's with medical expertise or emotional support. Their friendship is a cornerstone of Vega's life, providing stability and comfort in times of need. Though they’d probably never admit it, Vega is in love with them.

Museum Staff The museum staff at Northknot Historical Museum are a dedicated and passionate group of individuals who share a love for history and culture. They work closely with Vega, respecting their expertise and leadership as the museum's curator. Each staff member brings their own unique skills and perspectives, contributing to the museum's success. They are a tight-knit team, often collaborating on projects and supporting each other in their professional and personal endeavors. The staff admires Vega's dedication and resilience, and they strive to create an inclusive and enriching environment for all visitors.

Found Family Vega's found family consists of a diverse group of mixed bloodline shapeshifters who have come together to create a supportive and accepting community. Each member brings their own unique abilities and experiences, enriching the group's dynamic. They share a deep bond, forged through shared struggles and triumphs, and are always there for each other in times of need. This found family values individuality and encourages each member to embrace their true self. They have become Vega's sanctuary, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging that Vega had long sought.

Former Coven Leader The former coven leader is a wise and experienced individual who has guided the Mixed Bloodlines Coven with a steady hand for many years. They possess a deep knowledge of supernatural lore and a strong sense of duty to their community. Under their leadership, the coven has thrived, fostering a sense of unity and acceptance among its members. They saw potential in Vega from a young age and mentored them, passing on their wisdom and values. Even after stepping down due to illness, they remain a respected figure within the coven, offering guidance and support whenever needed. Vega often looks to them for advice as the rest of the coven looks to to her.

BIOGRAPHY

tw: violence, death, pregnancy, chronic pain & illness

"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change."

Born in Thessaloniki, Greece, at night after her mother, a human shapeshifter, fled from Ireland by foot and boat to escape hunters, ran into her father, an animal shapeshifter who shifted into a large, powerful lion to protect her even though he didn’t know her. They fell in love, got married, and had four kids; Vega being the third. Growing up, Vega knew from a young age that they were different from their peers and even their family. Vega embraced all sides of herself: the human and animal shifting part and the other part that didn’t identify as just a woman. Their abilities made them feel like they were more fluid than anything. Vega was into sports, dolls and action figures, cars, and playing dress-up. They were always a very balanced child. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Vega would grow up to reject their people’s way of living.

In the Katsaros family, at the time you hit puberty, you’re supposed to choose which path you want to go down as far as animal shifting or human shifting. It’s frowned upon in the supernatural world to utilize both because you can end up ill from overexertion. Vega couldn’t understand that. They weren’t hurting anyone and they weren’t in pain either, so it didn’t make sense to them to choose. Watching her two older siblings struggle in making their choice and their life after choosing only reinforced that she wanted different for herself. It was a couple of months before her 14th birthday that she wrote a letter to her younger sibling, the one she was closest to, explaining herself and her choice before running away from home.

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us."

Having heard the story of their mother’s travel from Ireland to Greece, Vega decided to backtrack it; traveling from Greece to Italy, through France, the UK, and ending in Ireland by bus, train, and ferry. She lived in Ireland for a few months, working as a waitress to save up money. She spent her 14th birthday there and learned more about her family’s history without ever letting anyone know she was a part of it. Vega yearned to see the rest of the world and meet new people who were like her; ones who were seeking balance. They’d fallen in love with traveling and learning a place’s culture and history through indulging in it, communication, and art. So, they started their journey across the water to Spain by ferry, where they fell in with a group of hippies backpacking their way to India. Vega traveled with them through Northern Africa by bus, train, and plane; starting in Morocco and ending in Egypt before they crossed over to Israel, then caught their last flight to India.

Vega fell in love with India and its culture and decided to plant roots. She stayed in India for five years, started following Buddhism, finished school, and made a life for herself there; even fell in love for the first time. They would’ve stayed longer if the Kargil War hadn’t broken out in 1999, their partner hadn’t been killed, and they didn’t find themselves alone and pregnant. At only 19 years old, she found herself fleeing again. This time, heading west for North America on a direct flight. Vega had heard about the Rainbow Gatherings and needed something peaceful to counteract the war and tragedy she’d just experienced, so she made her way to Pennsylvania’s Allegheny National Forest to live communally for two weeks amongst like-minded people who wanted change and strove for peace and harmony. Eventually, Vega found a friend amongst the hippies who invited her out to San Francisco to stay with them and offered to help her raise her child. Their friendship turned into something more about a year into living together, then ended about a year after that.

"Home is not where you were born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease."

Freshly 22 and with an almost 2-year-old, Vega found herself picking up her life and moving again; this time traveling north to a city amongst the forest in Canada where she heard that the supernatural and humans co-exist freely. They met a dragon in the woods one night who was taking a break on their nightly flight and told them of Northknot and how to get there. Following the dragon’s directions exactly, Vega stumbled upon the city and was stunned to see that what she was told was true. She felt comfortable being herself there and had enough savings to rent a small apartment. She was invited into the Mixed Bloodlines Coven by their leader and found family within it. They worked various jobs while they finished school after transferring to the university there. Then after graduating with her degree in Art History, she interned at Northknot Historical Museum while pursuing her master’s in Cultural Studies.

Things were going well for Vega. She had found family, friends, a job, a roof over her head, and her child was happy. They found acceptance; they found home. She only thought about her family some nights, and it would keep her up, but as the years passed, that happened less. Vega had started to move up the ranks at the museum. At 30 years old, she found herself being handed the coven when the former leader fell ill. Vega was nervous in the beginning, but they took on the role with grace and led with peace, love, and acceptance. It was only a few years later, at 36, that they were promoted to being the museum’s curator. They were at the top of their game, managing both their professional and personal life with balance. It wasn’t until not long after her 43rd birthday that she started to feel a little off. She was lethargic all the time, concentrating was hard, and shifting was growing more and more painful each time.

"The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of us but those who win battles we know nothing about."

It was obvious that her body was starting to give way to overexertion from shifting into both humans and animals all her life, but Vega didn’t have time to be sick. She was a mother and a coven leader, so she denied it and pushed past it. But the illness pushed back harder. Now at 45, not only were they in chronic pain and feeling weak, but they were having difficulty maintaining a stable form, experiencing involuntary shifts and sometimes only partial transformations. Vega found herself more susceptible to illnesses and infections and taking longer to recover from them. Knowing that they couldn’t deny their problem any longer, Vega sought out a medical professional, their best friend, who was a doctor. Being a fairly private person, Vega hasn’t told anyone, not even their child, that they're sick nor the reason they think they're feeling so ill. She made her best friend believe that it was something she was just starting to feel with the hope that it was a human-related illness and not something she’d done to herself.

Vega is a strong supporter of letting people be themselves and find their own path and purpose, so knowing her choice to not choose and find balance has come with consequences has kept her in denial about her illness and is part of the reason she won’t ask for help; the other part being that Vega is a coven leader, and while she leads with love and grace, she is also strong and fierce. They are the protector in all ways and can’t be that if others knew they’d fallen ill. Vega is still supportive, generous, and helpful to anyone in need but has started distancing herself emotionally, becoming more and more private with even those she considers family. No one’s really noticed her distancing herself except her child, who nags her about closing herself off. Vega has always been the type to put everyone else’s needs before theirs, so people who don’t know them personally would think it’s just them being them. But those who know Vega personally are starting to see that something’s wrong.

[hannibard]

"I'm choking from the taste (but I can't help but swallow)"

Pairings: Geraskier, Radskier

Summary: "There's too much at stake Geralt, it's not worth it. Go back to Kaer Morhen and forget about me."

"You're more than worth it Jaskier and I'll do anything in my power to get you out of this hell. Melitele help anyone who stands in my way."

Jaskier is taken by Radovid in the midst of his travels with Geralt and Milva. The Redanian king, changed from his recent ascent to power, is determined to get everything he wants, with Jaskier having the misfortune of being on top of the list. Jaskier spends time serving Radovid in the Redanian court, drowning in despair and losing parts of himself in the process, his only consolation being the knowledge that his friend was safe from the Redanian army due to his sacrifice.

Sometime after Geralt has united the north under his rule, he decides to pay a visit to Redania in the hope of reuniting with his bard. But Jaskier is not as he remembers, his psyche having been fractured in their time apart. Will the witcher be able to help him escape his tragic fate?

Inspired by the song "Poison" from Hazbin Hotel

Click here to read on Ao3

---

Chapter 1: Bitter Encounter

Other chapters: 2 3 4 5 6

He had been traveling together with Geralt and Milva for a few months when they took him. The three had made good progress on their way to Nilfgaard, occasionally adding other skilled individuals that were willing to aid in their cause to their group, like the high vampire/surgeon Regis, and the possibility of reaching Ciri was becoming more tangible with each passing day. Jaskier was, despite the sharp worry in his gut for the girl he had come to consider something akin to a daughter, relatively content.

Things were in no way easy, but at least he was (finally) at Geralt's side again. Plus, this time around he was actually able to pull his weight. Gone were the days of him being barely more than a burden that slowed the witcher down and made his life harder, as his role had been for the majority of their acquaintance.

(If life could give me one blessing-)

He had been by himself in some backwater village, because they needed to make money somehow and Jaskier was, despite all his faults, an excellent bard. His ability to be useful, even amidst such impressive individuals, filled him with pride. The others had made camp a few miles away in order to not draw attention. It was risky enough for Jaskier to make those semi-frequent appearances in the public eye, even with the new moniker he had adopted in his attempt to pass as different person. He had rarely traveled this far south in the past, so he wasn’t too worried about being recognized.

(it goes without saying that he avoided performing any songs from the vast repertoire he had created centered around his greatest muse, the White Wolf.)

His set was coming to an end, and he was looking forward to drinking an ale after gathering his earnings, before starting his long way back to his companions. He was in the middle of just that when he was approached by a hooded figure. They moved gracefully, weaving skillfully through the crowd before sitting down across the bard.

“Beautiful voice you’ve got there.” Their face was hidden in the shadow created by the hood, which was dark and modest, not carrying any identifiable markings.

Jaskier didn’t let his alarm show. “Thank you friend, I’m always one to appreciate compliments.” He took a long sip from his tankard methodically in a show of nonchalance.

The hooded figure cocked their head to the side and reached their hand out. “With talent such as yours, it’s a wonder you’re not more well-known Master…?”

Jaskier gave a bright grin, subtly wiping the sweat making its way down his forehead, and shook the stranger’s hand. Their grip was firm, and its hold lasted a bit longer than was considered socially appropriate. “The name’s Dandelion. And you are…?”

“A beautiful name to match the beautiful voice.” The figure avoided the question and tilted their head back so that their matching grin could be visible to the bard. Jaskier couldn't see their eyes, he had a nagging impression that he was being checked out from top to bottom. “Of course I can't neglect mentioning the beautiful appearance. Though if you don’t mind my humble opinion, I’d say there’s another name that would suit you more fittingly.”

The bard’s grin twitched ever so slightly. “And what would that be my dear fellow? Do say so.”

The stranger leaned forward. “Jaskier.” they said almost conspiratorially.

The bard’s smile fell all together, and he looked around with the corner of his eye. None of the inn’s patrons seemed to have heard, too busy drinking, eating and chatting loudly with each other. The innkeeper himself was curiously missing from the room.

“What do you want?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“If you want to find out then follow me and don’t make a scene. It wouldn’t benefit either of us.”

Jaskier gulped and slowly stood up. He made sure to grab his lute and not to let his nervousness show. “As you wish.”

They made their way outside, and as soon as they were out of people’s sight the stranger grabbed his arm with a strong grip that left no room for resistance, no matter how much Jaskier tried to pull away. They reached a building that stood tall in the periphery of the village, and the hooded figure surveyed their surroundings before opening the front door and pushing Jaskier inside. The force made the bard fall to his knees and he hissed in pain, his lute thankfully tucked safely against his back. He vaguely heard the door close and lock behind him just as he looked up, his mind too busy short-circuiting at the sight he came across.

“Hello darling.” said Radovid as he stood up from a makeshift throne, making his way to the bard and dropping to one knee in front of him. The newly-crowned king took Jaskier’s chin in one hand and gently stoked his cheek with the other, smiling gently. “Oh how I’ve missed you.” He said wistfully and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Jaskier was left speechless, his brows furrowing together in confusion. He hadn’t seen Radovid since that fateful day in Aretuza after the Thanedd ball, in the midst of all the chaos. Their parting had been hopeful but it didn’t take long for Jaskier to hear about Radovid’s sudden enthronement, so he had resolved himself to the reality that their story would remain forever unfinished. His regret lessened more and more with the time he spent at his witcher’s side.

“Radov-, Y-your majesty, to what do I owe the honor of this, ah, sudden summons?” he said when he finally managed to make his mouth move.

Radovid’s eyes hardened almost imperceptibly at the bard’s term of address. He let out a defeated sigh and hung his head low. “I never once stopped thinking about you my dear, every day we spent apart was pure torture, and now that my reign has stabilized I though it was the perfect time to pay you a visit." He looked up and stared unblinkingly into the bards blue eyes. "Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Jaskier swipped his lips with his tongue, a motion that Radovid tracked hungrily. “Oh, I uh, I’m elated to see you, truly, but I’m just a tad confused. You see, your buddy over there that escorted me here, let’s just say they weren’t very gentle in their approach. In few words and with no offense, it left a lot to be desired. I was expecting to encounter some sort of Nilfgaardian general ready to chop my head off and not… you.”

Radovid huffed and offered a hand to Jaskier, helping him up. Now that Jaskier was somewhat over his initial surprise he was able to take in the king’s appearance. There were some subtle changes, like the short beard that had replaced his previously clean-shaven face, his once lean body seemed to have filled with muscle, but the biggest change, the one that made Jaskier’s breath catch in his throat, was in his eyes.

Before, Radovid’s eyes were like a window to his soul that only Jaskier had a key to, full of intelligence and softness, specifically towards his person, but now… Now his gaze was guarded. The only thing Jaskier could detect besides the current show of the king’s emotions, was darkness. It was something he was only able to decipher after his years of experience performing in countless courts and dealing with all sorts of people in his travels. It caused a chill to run down his spine.

“You don’t have to worry about Nilfgaard any more my love, you won’t have to deal with them ever again.” Radovid said as he patted down the outrageously large fur that hung from his shoulders.

Jaskier blinked rapidly a few times and raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that Your Majesty?”

Radovid looked at him as though he’d asked a very stupid question. “Redania’s power has grown vastly in recent months as I’m sure you’ve heard. Nilfgaard wouldn’t dare take a single step towards us. Also please cut all the ‘Your Majesty’s, our relationship has evolved beyond such formalities.”

Jaskier nodded tentatively “I’ve certainly heard about your accomplishments, but I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

Radovid rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “You’re coming with us silly.”

Jaskier’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He had been bombarded by shock after shock in such quick succession that he hadn’t been able to calm his racing mind in a minute.

“I appreciate the offer, truly, Your Majes- Radovid.” the bard quickly corrected his words after seeing Radovid’s face twist in displeasure. “But I’m afraid I have to decline. You see, I’m currently in the middle of a very important quest that I must see through to the end.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. “So you’d choose that witcher over me? Even after everything he’s put you through? I could give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, comfort and luxury beyond your wildest dreams, but you’d seriously rather continue following that monster like a lost puppy?”

The bard wasn’t happy with the name Radovid used to describe his dearest friend, but he let it go, choosing to focus on the matter at hand. “I’m sorry Radovid. It is what it is.”

A glimpse of hurt flashed in the king’s eyes and his shoulder’s slumped as he turned away from the bard. He took a few deep breaths before he straightened up again. When their eyes met once more, Radovid’s hardened gaze was filled with resolve. Jaskier waited with bated breath for his response.

“If you won’t come with me willingly… I’ll just have to bring you by force.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened and his blood ran cold. Before he was able to do anything, two guards surrounded him and grabbed his shoulders from each side. He thrashed wildly but it was for naught, the bard being much weaker than his captors. “No-, Radovid- please don’t do this, I’m begging you!” He asked desperately.

The king looked down at him with his chin up and an air of confidence surrounding him, for the first time appearing as ruthless and regal as his title implied.

“I’m afraid I can’t listen to you darling. One of the perks of being a king is that I can do and have whatever I wish for, and nobody can stand in my way.” He waved his hand towards the bard nonchalantly as he addressed his followers. “Bring him a pen and paper. Have him write a letter to the witcher and deliver it to the innkeeper. He’ll know what to do.”

The guards dragged Jaskier towards a desk and deposited him in a chair, writing tools bring placed on the surface before him a moment later. His hand was shaking as he picked up the pen. A tear slid down his cheek as he tried one last time to change the king’s mind. “Please Radovid... Let me go.”

The king crossed his arms and his mouth formed a tight line. “That’s ‘Your Majesty’ to you.”

Jaskier let out a sob and stared down at the paper, blinking rapidly in an effort to clear his blurry eyesight. His mind was racing trying to find a way to leave some sort of secret message to alert Geralt of his situation. Radovid seemed to read his thoughts however, because he gripped the bard’s nape tightly and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Don’t even think about pulling any tricks or your dear witcher and the rest of your group will leave their last breaths at the camp they���re currently stationed on. My soldiers have the place surrounded as we speak.”

With those words the bards last hope was extinguished. The last thing he wanted to do was put his friends in danger. Even with their combined extraordinary strength, he didn’t want to chance either of them getting seriously injured. If obedience was the price to pay for their safety, then so be it.

“At least promise me you’ll leave them alone.”

Radovid gave a chaste kiss to the bard’s neck and ran what would be considered under normal circumstances a comforting hand down his back. “You have my word. I didn't care about them in the first place.” He gave the bard one last squeeze and went to sit back in his throne.

Jaskier took a deep breath and started writing. The single tear that hit the paper, while certain to be identifiable with the witcher’s heightened senses, would probably be assumed to have been a product of Jaskier’s typical sentimentality and nothing more.

Dear Geralt,

You’ll find me dearly saddened to inform you that our long-standing companionship must come to an end. You see, I’ve had time to think while staying in this lovely little settlement away from you lot, and I've come to realize what it is I truly want. That of course being king Radovid of Redania. I’ve talked to you about our ill-fated relationship before as you might recall. Somehow, things for us two don’t seem as bleak as they one were. I can see a light at the end of the tunnel and thus I’ve decided to go to Redania and try to build a future with him. Love conquers all and the like.

For the first time in my life, I’m putting myself before you. I’m choosing my own happiness. I hope you’re able to achieve your goals and manage to locate Ciri safe and sound. When you do, which I've no doubt you'll achieve, give her all my love. Please inform the rest of our group about my decision. I’m sorry for doing this so suddenly but you know how matters of the heart can be. They leave no room for patience.

Ever your affectionate friend,

Julian Alfred Pankratz.

Next chapter

[unicornacopia]

S.O.S Character design help!

Hi guys! I'm here with another OC from the RP server, and this time it's a villain! I was wondering if anyone with some drawing skills might want to take a crack at him? Even just a rough sketch of your impressions of what he might look like from the description below. Trying to get my players avoid using AI as much as possible and figured I'd see if anyone wanted to give this fella a try. Anyway, Thank you so much for reading and considering. Character details are below:

Character name: Maksim Baerun Age:38 Gender:** Male

Class/Title/job:** Blacksmith, but dresses very well.

Where are they from?: Way up North

Physical description: Roughly six and a half feet tall. Long oily black hair, that is almost pearlescent to white when the light hits it, shaved on the sides and always tied back. He has eerie ghostly blue eyes, several ear piercings, and 2 brown piercings very close to the skin. The right side of his mouth has a large scar deforming that part of his face slightly.

Typically wears tailored slacks and nice leather boots. Linen shirt and leather vest with either a long coat or the sleeves rolled up. Usually has a cigar hanging from his mouth. His Gurahl essence is that of a Polar bear, all forms except his human reflecting that. His frame though is imposing, being tall and bulk with muscle (Not body builder cant put arms down big, but just *THICK*)

Special abilities/powers: Gurahl (werebear,) Commands the Forces of Nature. Similar to a lycanthrope but slightly different, Gurahl are not always bound to change by the moon and often retain their human intelligence and abilities despite their form. Because of where he grew up, far in the northern frigid mountains and ice of the Motherland, his Gurahl form has the features of a Polar Bear.

Background: A child of a powerful Romani healer and a Mob boss, he was found at a young age to be gifted in the natural magic arts. Though he was the younger of two brothers and the more gifted naturally, he tended to get overlooked for his brother. This was especially hurtful because their father left when Maksim was a toddler, and because he looked and acted similar to his father, it caused his mother to become cold and distant with him. As he grew into adolescence and his abilities grew, he began to get cocky, hunting larger and larger prey, usually solo.

At 16 he attempted to track and kill a feral dire bear on his own. He managed to finally down the beast, but was mortally wounded in the process, he barely made it back to town alive and very nearly died on his brothers table. Mikhail managed to tap into his Romani roots and managed to restore Maksim to life, but very badly scarred. Even though he felled the bear alone and survived, the praise was given to his brother for saving his life. Tired of living in that shadow, he left. At just 17 he was on his own, left to fend for himself. What he didnt realize is that the Romani magic his brother accidentally tapped into, as well as the latent power in his blood, changed him into a creature known as a Gurahl in Romani culture, or a Werebear.

After two years living partially in the wild and partially on the streets of various cities, while learning to control his newfound abilities, he made his way to the capital. There he made a name for himself in the fighting pits, catching the attention of his father. He brought him in as muscle, after a few years working with his father, a bad deal ended even worse, sending him into Crinos form in a full feral rage. Most of the crew was killed including their father. Maksim ashamed and enraged left The Motherland forever.

[brumeraven]

🍂: A Friendly Wager || self-abandonment, RSD, gods, conformity, expectations, reflections, the mirror, transformations, not sure how to say I'm not sure about this one without sounding like I'm being rude to faer

I knew a girl once, a friend, I suppose, though I hesitate to use the term, being as she was a friend to everyone and none at all.

Come to think of it, even "girl" was tenuous, for something wasn't quite right with her, something not quite human in her overall impression.

There was something off about her face, as if some artist hadn't quite mastered perspective, a smile that seemed to not quite fit her eyes, plastered on from another source.

I always wondered whose it was.

Not mine, I think, for all that it had gone missing years before.

Nevertheless, she was sweet enough and smiled for me, so we struck up an amicable relationship.

One day, she told me she was worried about me.

Worried that I never smiled.

Worried that I was all alone.

Worried that I was fated for an awful end.

But...I could yet be saved.

She told me all I needed to do was follow God's will.

It was ridiculous, of course. Patently so, and I said as much, told her I'd heard a thousand name themselves gods, expecting of course a sales pitch for the one "true" one she'd leashed herself to.

"Of course."

The words were a shock, assent unexpected. Which, then, was I to serve? After all, I was spoiled for choice.

"All of them."

I had no idea what to make of it, expectations turned on their heads, and so I asked, well, why? Why could she possibly think this would solve anything?

It was simple logic, or so she said, a matter of game theory.

Each claimant either is or is not a god. This is, by its nature, wholly uncertain, since we're fallible beings trying to conceptualize of the infallible. Any being of infinite power could just choose to appear finite.

And yet one must treat each in turn as either divine or not, uncertainty be damned.

If one serves mere man, well, one has lost but some time and stature, a finite and measurable cost.

If were to defy divinity, though...there is no limit on the magnitude of the consequences.

What possible equilibrium could exist but to serve a would-be god to the best of one's ability?

Her answer failed to make an impression on my skepticism, failing as it did to deal with the proliferation of such fetishes. With countless gods, how could one choose the correct one?

How was one to decide which was more correct or true or likely to be divine? How could infinities be compared?

And if instead one serves multiple, the number of possible subsets to follow exploded binomially. How could one be so many different things to so many different people?

It was simple, she insisted, drawing a triangle of numbers on a page, marking the combinations. No matter how many possible gods there were, there was only one way to serve all of them, she said, tapping the right edge.

One simply had to be what was expected of them by everyone.

What other solution to uncertainty was there, when a single misstep could spell eternal damnation? What small cost it was to give up the tiny certainty of this mortal existence for such rewards that could await us. What a trifling thing conviction was to pay to avoid perdition.

I don't know her, anymore.

I don't remember if she died, or if I simply refused to be complicit in her suicide. Either way, the not-quite-girl I knew is gone.

I do remember she stopped smiling at me when I pointed out that both sides of the triangle were flanked with 1's.

I suppose I'm overlooking something. Always was more stubborn than bright, more selfish than not, unwilling to give up what precious little I have whatever the profits.

Death may be a certainty, but I'll be damned if I meet it on my knees.

Never much was one for gambling.

~🍂

[elecman108]

It's that time of year again! Art Summary 2024! And... Wow, I had a lot of things I pushed off to "later" and only ever completed two of them (Sept and Aug, although the Sept one was finished this month and will be posted later).

Honestly... I'm proud of myself this time around. I know a lot has happened this year too. From a toxic relationship to many multiple work troubles to hell, even some general life shit hitting me squarely in the face. I'm honestly impressed at how much I just kept at it.

Although the only thing I drew in November was "Hop On Street Fighter 5". That month is an outlier and will not be counted.

I mean, look back at my previous years.

In 2023, I had a lot of months where I didn't draw. I did end up redrawing one of my works I put off to later this year although it's not... noticeably different. I struggled and stuff consumed my days, swallowing up by ability to draw with them.

In 2022, my computer broke in February and I lost all of my January and half of my February art. March was when I fixed it, and I felt... weirdly out of practise. I spent the whole year struggling to get my art to the level I wanted it at. I don't know if I really achieved it...

In 2021, I felt like my art actively improved. I did Drawtober completely for the first time ever and have yet to top the feeling of seeing everything done together at the end. Some of my art is a little... rough... but I enjoyed it. It was well worth the time, but I felt that things were a little rough and things would get better. Looking back... They did. It took three more years, though.

In 2020, the start of this whole tango, I got my touch screen laptop in February. I started drawing digitally. Looking back from then to now, I think... I think I've improved. I think I genuinely have improved. It's been five whole years of this nonsense, from February 2020 to December 2024, and so much has changed.

I got a job, got burned several times over, gained new health problems and now manage other ones comfortably. I graduated college for the career I currently am head over heels in love with, and I fell back in love with fighting games after spending so long avoiding them due to tryhard gatekeepers. So many games, so many memories, and so many times I've ended up watching Die Hard... Like... I've seen it way too much in the past five years. Sometimes unintentionally.

This is honestly my favourite Art Summary. It's not as colourful as the previous ones, nor as stuffed with art I love, but it's perfect. It's my year. I had to put so much aside over the years for many reasons, and now, I can just DO things. My mental health is better than ever. I'm happier than I've ever been. I think my art looks better than ever, and maybe it's because I'm not forcing myself to finish things constantly. I've shifted to Tumblr and BlueSky, and am better off for it.

I'm happy. Today's December 24th, 2024, and while my folks are cooking Christmas Dinner in the other room and I sit here waiting on a laundry load to finish in the dryer, I'm happy. Much as I have my... hatreds, I guess, of Christmas and all, I am happy.

And I hope you find your happiness too.

The same but different on Bluesky.

[sylvanprincess]

Yeah, it’s very much like how any human has the capability to become an astrophysicist or an astronaut, but not everyone decides to do that.

I created this post nearly five years ago, and didn't think to put the quotes I was drawing from in.

I tried to avoid specific things like Lúthien’s powers, unless other Elves had demonstrated such abilities.

The lines about Elves’ eyes glowing comes from Lord of the Rings:

“They’re always awake. Dwarves, Men, and Elves, terrible Elves with bright eyes... They visits Elves, fierce Elves with bright eyes. Take it off us! It hurts us.”

To the best of my knowledge, the only Elves Gollum visited was Thranduil and the Silvan Elves. Not to mention:

Glorfindel was tall and straight; his hair was of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy; his eyes were bright and keen, and his voice like music; on his brow sat wisdom, and in his hand was strength.

The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost; her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night.

But Legolas stood beside him, shading his bright elven-eyes with his long slender hand, and he saw not a shadow, nor a blur, but the small figures of horsemen, many horsemen, and the glint of morning on the tips of their spears was like the twinkle of minute stars beyond the edge of mortal sight.

Legolas stood before the gate and turned his bright eyes away north and east, and his fair face was troubled.

Legolas turning to speak to Gimli looked back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf’s bright eyes.

There would be a difference between the ‘Light of Valinor’ but the impression I got is that there is a general glow that is a typical Elven trait.

Canonical Elven Supernatural Abilities:

Elven musicians "can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen." (Lord of the Ring)

Elves can learn to speak the languages of animals (The Silmarillion)

Elves can speak to trees (Lord of the Rings)

Elves have the ability to see vast distances, and can count the number of people riding in a close formation, and notice their hair color and height, from a distance of at least seventeen miles (28 km). (Lord of the Rings)

Elves, particularly their eyes, glow with inner light (Lord of the Rings)

Elves can walk atop the snow and have remarkable cold tolerance (Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion)

Elves have the power to influence by magic over another person’s mind, and can puts others to sleep. (The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion)

Elves can manipulate or influence elements of nature (The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings)

Elves have the power to forsee possible outcomes of the future (Lord of the Rings)

Elves can read minds and communicate with each other telepathically, no matter where in Middle-Earth they happen to be (Lord of the Rings, Vinyar Tengwar)

Elves can duel with song and knock down buildings with song (The Silmarillion, Of The Rings of Power and the Third Age)

Elves can heal with song (HoME- Lays of Beleriand)

Elves can conceal/temporarily cause to disappear possessions of theirs which they want to disguise (HoME- Lays of Beleriand)

Elves can temporarily shapeshift, but their true form can be revealed if someone greater in power strips their disguised form (The Silmarillion)

Elves can create magical items: rope that unties itself when no longer needed, cloaks that make the wearer nearly invisible, rings that make mortal bearers immortal (though not spiritually and at a spiritual cost), the palantiri, gems that emit light, swords that glow in the presence of enemies and swords which are sentient and can talk.

Note: This reference is probably incomplete. @growingingreenwood (being the goddess of Tolkien lore that she is) and anyone else is free to add if I’ve missed any.

It should be noted that as Galadriel cautions the Hobbits, the supernatural abilities of the elves is not actually magic, as these powers are natural to the elves and can be advanced through practice. I haven’t included anything from the Book of Lost Tales, because that is a mess I don’t want to step into.

It’s unclear if Galadriel's mirror is a magic item or if she has a magic ability to see distant and future things in it. (Lord of the Rings).

And its implied, but never made explicit that Thranduil used a protective magical barrier like the Girdle of Melian to protect the Northern region of Eryn Galen from Sauron’s influence (Of The Rings of Power and the Third Age, Lord of the Rings).

There’s also an implication that either elves can teleport themselves and objects over a short distance or temporarily conceal themselves from the eyes of possible enemies by turning invisible (The Hobbit).

[aybannn]

For Myself, By Myself

Hi! It's me, Ivan Dave Griño, a 21 year-old student living in the Hidden Paradise of Bukidnon or also known as San Fernando. I'm a boy with little motivation but have a bigger ambition, and I'll make sure that I will make that ambition of mine to be achieved.

I'm what you guys call talented; a master of one thing, but a jack of all trades. I'm good at sports, dancing, singing, and playing instruments, but not drawing. I am proud to say that I have accomplished many things in life that a typical student would never be able to. For example, I have traveled to Luzon three times to represent Mindanao in a dancing competition, and we have always come out on top.

I can sing, but not very well. My deep, bass-voiced manhood prevents me from hitting high notes, so the only music I can sing that is heartfelt is ballads. However, because I'm concentrating on dancing, I can say that I didn't use my singing voice to its full potential.

This is my Dance Group, YoungSide a widely know Dance Group in Philippines that excels in dancing, especially in KPOP and PPOP. We have a YouTube channel with 15k subscribers. My group attained many achievements and that includes being featured in the ASAP in year 2020, noticed by a PPOP group called SB19. I'm proud to say that I've been offered many contracts to be in a PPOP group and will train in Korea for two (2) months but I declined because I will prioritize my academics over my passion in dancing, because I know that if I have a degree I can have a choice, whether to pursue my career or pursue the passion that is burning within my soul. I didn't regret making that big decision that could change my entire life.

Dancing is one of my interests and hobbies, and I've spent my entire life surrounded by like-minded individuals. Dancing brings me joy, serves as a release from problems, and allows me to express my emotions and creativity. My relatives are dancers. We laugh and dance together; this is our special bond that helps us forget the difficulties we face in life and has often saved us. My interest and pastime have allowed me to save money by instructing a large number of people. I've found true happiness with this, something that not everyone can. It is my savior and has helped me avoid depression in the past. I use my skill at dancing to express myself and impress others.

My entire existence is centered around dancing, but that doesn't mean I neglect my academics; in fact, I'm proud to say that I've been a consistent college honor student from my first year onward. Even though it is challenging to balance academics and dancing at the same time, I was able to survive thanks to my time management abilities.

As I wrap up this blog, I can tell you all that if you have a talent, Perseverance and Time-management is the key, use it and grow. It might save you from suffering, or it might make you suffer, but either way, you will gain many life lessons and skills that a normal person cannot have. To succeed in life, you simply need to manage your time well, consider your future, and be a visionary who foresees and plans for it. Greetings, Ivan Dave Griño here from Central Mindanao University. I am a full-time dancer and part-time student.