#and there are still 25 sketches of him that i need to finish

[cosmichawk]

bruh i was about to sit down and finish my furry dottore & harbingers drawings, so then i could start w/ sandrone art that i REALLY want to draw. unfortunately dottore said "not today bitch", and i instantly generated an art piece w/ him in my mind and then another one based on the first one's idea, and now i have to finish these two first bc they will poison my thoughts until i'm done w/ them. i can't do this anymore i just can't

dottore is like the black death and i'm population of europe in 14th century

[kamospeach]

plot: tattooartist!geto wants his favorite canvas to show off his work.

content warning: oral f!receiving, choking, piv sex, fingering, praising, doggy, breeding, a lot of dirty talk

peachy's yap: placed in Tokyo, but i didn't use conversions, and i specified that when speaking about money. i wrote this before i started writing on tumblr so it might be a lil bad.

"mmm, sugu..." you moaned, trying to stop the force of his thrust with your hand.

"be a good girl and take it all for me, okay?" he groaned out, intertwining your fingers behind your back and holding your hand in place.

now, you're probably wondering how you got here. hours before the incident you and your friends sat around on your bed. you all were scrolling through pinterest, trying to help your youngest friend build the courage to get a tattoo. you had friends of all different ages, races, and types since you transferred to a school in tokyo. your college in the us had an exchange program, which you were eager to sign up for. in all honesty, you were excited to meet the famous tiktok star satoru gojo.

living in tokyo was still new to you, and you had been going to school there for a year and a half. you made a lot of friends who were from the same program as you. you were the oldest and most obvious mom of the group. you treated the others like they were fragile babies, even though some of them were only a few months younger than you. one of your friends had just recently turned 19 and had never gotten a tattoo.

"come on, tattoos aren't that bad." you stressed to your friend. you were littered with tattoos, 25 in total, so of course, it seemed like nothing to you.

"that's not fair you have so many this will be my first one." he complained, and you laughed at his nervousness.

"what about your artist that did the majority of yours? can he do it?" another one of your friends asked, and you nodded at her statement.

"yeah, he's very gentle, so it won't be bad. i'll facetime him." you said and called suguru. 

the whole time you had been in tokyo, suguru had been doing your tattoos. out of 25, he did 20 of them, which made you get closer. sometimes, he did your tattoos when you just popped up or even after hours when he was fully booked. most times, you would call him and talk while he sketched a large tattoo for you. you guys had become friends and even got some tattoos for free, small ones, of course. it was also oddly convenient since you're a major fangirl for his best friend, satoru.

"you must need something." he blurted, answering on the third ring. you giggled at his assumption, looking at the way his phone was sitting.

"you're doing a tattoo?" you asked, slightly dodging his statement.

"yes, my only appointment for the day, you need to come by?" he asked, he never passed up a chance to take your money for something he loved doing. especially getting to see your pretty face sit in his chair and the look of satisfaction on that face when he finished the tattoo. 

"my friend wants a tattoo, and i recommended you because you're not too heavy-handed." you said, throwing in a smile, and he chuckled. he looked good to you, maybe better than usual. he had on a white shirt, which was different since he usually wore dark blue or black. you couldn't see his lower half, but you suspected he had jeans or sweats on. his long hair was in the usual bun at the top and hair down in the back.

"why do i feel like you're trying to sweet talk your way into my chair, kid." he joked, and you grumbled at the 'kid' nickname. 

"i'm doing it for my friend." you reminded him.

"oh yeah? so you're not doing it for the tattoo i sent you a couple of days ago." he raised a brow, and you laughed. he had sent you a very large sketch of a dragon that he said would look good on you. he offered to do it for 300 us dollars instead of 700 as long as you modeled it for him. you swore you would promote him on all platforms since you were pretty popular.

"if you want to do it today, we can." you offered, throwing the ball in his court.

"you guys can come i should be done in 30." he laughed, and you smiled, standing as all your friends began grabbing their belongings to leave. you walked away from them, noticing he had his airpods in his ear.

"i missed you, you know." you said lowly, not trying to draw attention to yourself. he glanced at you, and his eyes showed everything he couldn't say aloud.

"i missed you too; you'll hurry and get here, yeah?" he said, making your stomach churn from the naturally seductive tone he carried.

"we're 15 minutes away, but it might be some traffic." you informed him, and he nodded understanding.

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩

"woah, it's nice in here." your friend said loudly, making everyone else agree. 

"sugu!" you yelled, seeing him grabbing the cash from the client. when the client left, you went to suguru, immediately hugging him tightly. 

"you act as if we haven't seen each other in months." he joked still returning the hug as enthusiastically as you.

"2 weeks is a long time." you huff, sitting in a chair next to him. all your friends followed behind you, standing at the end of the chair. your friend getting the tattoo sat in the chair and explained the idea to geto. he began to sketch as you scrolled through your instagram messages, responding to brands that wanted to work with you. before you knew it, you heard the buzz of the needle, and he began to work. "oh! sugu, i need to tell you about what happened last week."

"i'm listening." he said, yet you could tell in his voice that he was interested. he was focused, and that was when he looked the best. the right side of his lip was tucked between his teeth, and his eyes were low. the veins in his arm protruded due to his grip on the needle, and the vein in his neck that never went away was more prominent. you rested your chin on your palm as you talked to him and watched him work on your friend's arm.

"he's really good." a friend of yours complimented him, and you nodded.

"thank you." he mumbled out, still focusing on his work. after another 30 minutes, he was finished with the tattoo. it was a song lyric, so it didn't take long to finish it and wrap it up. 

"you guys don't have to wait for me; this tattoo is pretty big." you assure your friends.

"you sure? will you need a ride home? i can always come back and get you."

"i'll take her home," suguru interjected, and you smiled, nodding at my friends.

"okay then, bye, see you later!" they all said in unison, waving at you as you walked back to suguru's chair. suguru followed behind your friends to turn off the open sign and lock the door. he closed the curtains and turned off the main lights to ensure no one would assume they were open. he walked to his station and turned on the extra lights he had to brighten up the specific area.

"nobody's here today?" you asked a little late, but your mind was distracted by the white shirt he had on.

"choso only had one client, so he went to pick up yuji. yuki never came, and the other guys left early, too." he explained.

"so, where did you want to put this one?" you smile, looking down at him as he sits in his usual chair.

"your back." he said printing out parts of the pre-sketched tattoo.

"cool! i've been wanting a back tattoo it's so empty." you admit, look at his back muscles flexing as he cleaned his station. "why a white shirt today?"

"is it a crime to wear white?"

"i mean, it is when all you usually wear is dark colors." you smile, and he nods.

"laundry day." he admitted, and you chuckled.

"maybe next time i can get you to wear pink." you smirk.

"maybe not." he said blandly. suguru was an avid pink hater, and light purple came a close second. you always teased him about pink and light purple and even bought him a pink and light purple gift for his birthday (along with tons of black and dark purple gifts). 

"i'm nervous now," you said, taking off your shirt and holding your chest. you had become comfortable with being in minimal clothing around him. he was even there when you got your nipples pierced, which would make sense since he owns the place (you invited him back because you were scared).

"what happened to that kiss you promised me?" he asked, ignoring your statement as your face got hot. 2 weeks ago, geto and you had kissed for the first time. he asked for another, and you told him you would the next time you saw each other.

"you would ask that now that i'm shirtless." you roll your eyes, and he just chuckles. you walk to where he stands, and his tall frame leans down. his hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer, and he whispered in your ear.

"nothing i've never seen before." he kissed your neck under your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. goosebumps formed on your body as if you were cold, but his body kept you warm. the way he spoke about seeing your chest made it almost feel inappropriate, yet it was because of the body piercing.

"so lewd." you sighed as he grabbed your face, bringing it close to his.

"yeah?" he questioned.

"y-" as you began to answer, he cut you off, connecting your lips. your mouth open from speaking, let him insert his tongue in your mouth. forgetting you didn't have on a shirt, your hands went to his hair, slowly massaging his scalp. 

he moaned in the kiss from the feeling of your fingers, loving how it felt. his hands traveled from around your waist to under your breast. your tongues fought for dominance, and he inevitably won as he explored your mouth. without thinking, his thumbs began to lightly caress your nipples, which were sensitive from the piercings you had gotten not even a month ago. he pulled away, looking down at your breast that rested perfectly in his large hands.

"i'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly. he quickly moved his hands, and you tried to catch your breath.

"it's okay." you said honestly, sitting in his seat. your chest pressed against the cold leather. most of your sessions with suguru weren't sensual or sexual. to be honest, this was different for the two of you; you just couldn't deny your attraction to suguru.

"you comfortable because once i get started, you need to stay very still." he said, and you scoffed.

"i know suguru." you said as you heard him laugh. for a second, he paused, letting the soft r&b play through the speaker. you internally chuckled at him playing the shared playlist that was full of music you told him to listen to. he began to place the stencils on your back and draw with the pen to fill in the empty places. as he did these little movements, your eyes closed as partynextdoor 'no chill' played. per usual, your thoughts drifted to suguru. 

now, it hit you like a bullet train going close to a million miles an hour. those times he called while sketching and said he'd want to see you with a back tattoo. or those times he said tattoos would look good around your neck. you always frowned at the idea as he smirked, saying 'went right over your head,' and you cluelessly shrugged. his hand around your neck? he wanted to see you with an arch in your back that emphasized those tattoos? sneaky.

suguru's signature smirk as you talked about tattoos. it wasn't the only thing you had in common, but it was where he could throw in dirty jokes, and you not even notice. before you knew it, your breathing was steadied, and you had lightly dozed off. suguru noticed your breathing and removed the needle.

"hey, love, you need to wake up just in case you twitch." he said, lightly rubbing your hip near where he was working.

"mhm." you mumbled, waking up and looking at the tv that was muted but played a program that you'd never seen. two hours had passed, and you were trying not to nod off. "sugu, i'm sleepy." you told him, and he nodded. 

"we can finish it tomorrow you probably have an hour and a half left." he said, and you shook your head. 

"i have work tomorrow i can't come." you pouted look back at suguru, who nodded.

"okay, if you twitch, i'll stop, and we just gotta plan a different day." he warned you, and you tried extra hard to stay awake. "what has you so tired anyways?"

"had three classes today from 7 to 2." you explained, and he nodded. 

"and how are you doing in those?"

"i'm doing good, i promise, just stressed. this is making it better." you tell him, knowing he acts like your father when it comes to your grades. he chuckles, and he works diligently on the tattoo. although you did nod off a few times, you were still enough for him to finish the tattoo all in one day. 

"maschocist?" he asked, joking, and you laughed.

"a little." you played along.

"you did good, love." he said, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach.

"t-thank you." you stuttered, immediately embarrassing yourself.

"thank you because i did your tattoo or because i praised you?" he questioned, reaching a hand out for you to stand as your legs felt weak from sitting for such a long time (and definitely not because his voice was hot). he kept his hand in yours, and you both walked to the mirror to see what he had done.

"maybe both." you shrugged, turning around and looking at your back in the mirror. "sugu..." you gasped, looking at the tattoo that was beyond the word beautiful. 

"do you like it?" he looked up at you, and your jaw dropped.

"like it? i love it." you say as he laughs.

"you always make me feel good about my work, " he says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you look up at him. you look at his face, caught in its beauty, as he waits for your response. his teeth play with the hoop of his side labret piercing on his plump lip.

"people must tell you all the time how good your work is." you say and he smirks at your assumption.

"sure they do, but your opinion matters the most." he says as you begin to realize he's leaning into you. you summon all the positive self-talk you can to reassure yourself that you can handle this without embarrassing yourself. like you figured his lips crashed onto yours and the two of you began to kiss vigorously. your teeth touched here and there and his tongue was exploring your mouth all in a matter of seconds.

"sugu..." you hum as his lips leave your mouth and attack your neck. he began to lightly bite and suck at your neck as you let out a light moan from the feeling of his lips.

"yes, y/n?" he says, and you sigh at the feeling of his lips. "show me how much you love my work, baby. show it off to me, hm?" he says, and your heart begins to flutter at his words. his voice was smooth like silk and his words were sensual.

"okay." you say lowly letting go of your chest and putting your hands in his hair. it was your favorite place to put your hands, to busy yourself, and hearing his groans was music to your ears.

"this is what you want right?" he asks leaning back to look you in your eyes.

"yes, i want you, suguru." without a second word, he picked you up and placed you on the chair you had previously sat on. your hands quickly went to his belt to open it.

"slow down, let me please you." he whispered in your ear as he removed your hands from his belt. his hands slowly grazed your sides his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. he slipped his hand slipped into your shorts pressing your covered clit. your breathing became ragged, and you whimpered in his ear. he slowly rubbed your clit barely putting any pressure just enough for you to know his fingers were there and moving.

"sugu please." you begged looking him in his eyes and he smirked at your begging state.

"please, what?" he asked as your head began to spin. you didn't even know what you wanted from him at this point. you just knew that you wanted him.

"i... i" you started still lost in your words.

"you what, baby? you want me to touch that needy pussy for real?" he hummed, and just from the words, your hip bucked at his hands needing to feel him.

"yes, please touch me, suguru." you asked, and he smiled at you, finally being able to ask for what you wanted. he finally put his hands inside your thin undergarments, pressing his cold fingers directly on your warm cunt. you're insanely wet and would be dripping if your juices weren't restrained. his middle finger grazed over your core seemingly testing to see how aroused you were for him.

"you're so wet for me." he breathes out as he slips his middle finger in you without warning. you moan at the simple girth of his thick and long digits. he skillfully maneuvers his fingers as your cunt squelches. the only sounds in the tattoo studio are you and suguru's heavy breathing combined with the sloshing sounds of your juices. 

"fuck..." you moan throwing your head back and enjoying the pleasure that suguru was giving. although you imagined having him all for yourself taking his big dick up your tight virgin-like cunt. you never imagined it would feel this good just from one of his fingers.

"you can take another finger for me, right?" he asked, not awaiting an answer he added another finger searching for that rough and spongy spot in you. once he found that spot, he continued to simulate, rub, and push on that spot as you clenched around his fingers. he removed his fingers once he could feel you even getting slightly close to finishing. 

"hah... hey," you huff as a pout immediately finds its way to your face. without saying a word he put his fingers to his lips. he licked your essence off his fingers while maintaining that almost unbearable eye contact with you. "suguru..." you tried to warn him but it mainly came out in a whisper.

"i want you to cum on my dick not my fingers." he whispers as he leans down to suck on your right breast. you moaned loudly at the feeling since your nipple was still sensitive from the piercing. he rolled your left nipple between his fingers and massaged your tits. he let off with a 'pop!' switching to the left before repeating the process of giving your other nipple attention. once he felt he was done, he began to unbutton your pants.  seeing that as a green light, you rush to remove his shirt. "you can't be in that big of a rush." he teases.

"i been waiting a long time for this." you admit to crashing your lips to his so he can feel your urgency. he eventually gave up trying the slow approach and hastily helped you strip down. after you had finally got him to just his boxers you lightly pulled at the band and he smiled. "i can do it?" you asked shyly and he laughed.

"go ahead." with his permission, you pulled down his boxers, watching as his girthy dick slaps his stomach. he was unbelievably hard; his tip was bright red and dripping precum. you couldn't take your eyes off of it as you shamelessly stare at his throbbing dick in fear. "you ready?"

"yes." you squeaked, and he smirked, grabbing your legs and lifting them to your chest. unexpectedly, he leaned down, sending one singular lick to your soaking wet lips. your legs begin to tremble at the feeling while suguru sends kitty licks, purposely ignoring your clit. "suguruuu..." you whine, and he stands up, smiling as his lips glisten from the juices. 

"i got you." he says, putting his hands up to your mouth. "spit." knowing you were getting closer to the goal, you immediately spit in his hand. he begins to jerk himself with your spit eyes rolling to the back of his head from the feeling. 

he had to snap himself out of it, remembering that this was real he wasn't dreaming of you. he could really fuck you and feel the way your warm cunt feels around him. you both being too intoxicated by each other's scent threw caution to the wind and didn't even think of using a condom. he lines his dick up with your entrance slapping his tip on your clit a few times before slowly pushing his way in.

"oh my..." you both gasp in unison at the feeling, his head is pressed against yours as he continues to push his way into you. he had you in a mating press as he tried not to put his full weight on you. he filled you up perfectly you felt full and stuffed just from half of him. he continued to push himself into you until he completely bottomed out. you both took a second he was allowing you to adjust while he tried to not nut already. your breathing was matched and you both looked each other in the eye.

in. out.

in. out.

in. out.

in. 

and suguru slammed into you as you took a deep breath, knocking all the wind out of you. he smirked as you gasped for air, and he continued with his bullied thrust. he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in not even letting you catch your breath again.

"you hear that? you hear how wet you are for me." he whispered in your ear as you babbled out 'yes, yes, yes, yes' in response. your moans were loud and echoed around the tattoo shop. he leans up and begins to speed up his pace both hands on the back of your knees pressing them closer and closer to your chest as his thrust begins to get more and more ruthless. 

"s...s...s..." you tried to speak but you were so cock drunk you couldn't even get the words out. you were embarrassed and you couldn't even look at suguru who gripped your jaw roughly turning you to face him again. 

"spit it out." he says in a mocking tone, and you roll your eyes at him. "you want to roll your eyes?" he asked as you ignored him, gripping his forearm tightly at the pleasure. "answer me." he spat, and you whined shaking your head.

"no!" you moan out as he hit that perfect spot in you that had you almost ready to come undone. he rapidly pounded into you so hard that you felt the pressure in your chest. it almost felt as if his cockhead was poking at your heart begging you to love him and his dick. 

"can i leave marks?" he asked, remembering all those times you complained to him about men leaving hickeys on you without permission.  your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your moans became more and more guttural. 

"mhm," you hummed out, and he immediately began to work on your neck, leaving hickeys. once he felt he was done with what he called his 'masterpiece,' he looked at you. fucked out with his marks on your neck, collarbone, and chest. he laughed at you as he grabbed both of your legs and crossed your ankles. he placed your crossed legs over his right shoulder as he continued to watch your fucked out face. 

"maybe you should get my name on you." he says as he kisses your ankle making your eyes widen in shock. he couldn't mean what you thought he meant. "maybe a necklace?" he says as he gives you a forceful thrust that has you screaming out his name. "yeah, you like that?" he says as he wraps one of his hands around your neck squeezing lightly.

"yes, sugu i love it." you say not even realizing you admitted to loving the idea of having a necklace with his name on it.

"you love it? you didn't even... hah... hear my other ideas... fuck." he says as his statement is broken up with his moans and groans. he's in bliss loving the feeling of your warm gooey walls wrapped tightly around his cock as you clench and hold on to him with every thrust. "fuck baby, you feel so good. you're taking my dick so good. such a good girl for me." now it was suguru's turn to babble about how good you feel. his thrusts are getting sloppy as he feels you clench even tight.

"sugu 'm cumming." you whine out as he makes his thrust more pointed at the spot he knows drives you crazy.

"cum on your cock, make a mess on me." he coaxes you to your end as you moan your loudest moan of the night. "look at the mess you made." he instructs you as he keeps fucking you through you high. you looked down at the ring of cream that wrapped around his base. he slides out of you and quickly flips you over. "now that you're warmed up, you can show off that new tattoo, hm?"

"wait, i'm sensitive." you whine, and he doesn't say anything, just rubs his tip up against your entrance. he gave you maybe half a second if you were lucky and pushed into you again. "shit.." you mumble as he pushes himself fully in, your back naturally arched at the feeling. without letting you adjust to him, he begins to snap his hips into you quickly.

"you look so good taking me, sweetheart." he says as he watches the way your ass ripples each time it hits his pelvis. one hand was on your hip, and the other sent a hard slap to your ass cheek. his thrusts were relentless and your moans were getting louder and louder each time.

you grabbed his wrist as your face was squished into the chair. suguru didn't say much his jaw was slack hypnotized by your ass and the way you gripped him. he couldn't take his eyes off of you the way you looked under him was better than anything he could've ever imagined.

"mmm, sugu..." you moaned, trying to stop the force of his thrust with your hand. you were getting closer by the second and still sensitive from your previous orgasm. it was starting to become too much as tears spilled from your eyes due to the pleasure.

"be a good girl and take it all for me, okay?" he groaned out, intertwining your fingers behind your back and holding your hand in place. using your hand as leverage he gives you slower and longer strokes. slowly out and roughly back in, hitting that spot that made you mewl out. "are you close?" he asked as your body began to twitch from the feeling.

"so close, baby, so so close." you say and he grunts loving the way you sounded moaning out his name.

"where do you want it, sweetheart?" he asked and you being a fucked out mess yelped out without even thinking.

"inside me, please cum in me, fill me up, sugu." you begged, and how could he deny his beautiful muse what she desired? as both of your climaxes built up, he grabbed the front of your neck, choking you lightly as he pulled you up so that his chest was against your back. his free hand reached down to rub circles on your clit as he continued fucking you. "i'm cumming, shit."

"me too, cum with me." he whispers deeply in your ear as the both of you cum together. your body jerked as you violently came, and he continued to send sloppy thrusts, filling you up. he grabs your jaw, turning your face to kiss you sloppily. your tongues explored each other's mouths until you both decided to catch your breath.

"that was... amazing." you panted as he slowly slid out of you. the emptiness makes you whine and the sensitivity makes him shiver. 

"you were so good." he says, rubbing your cheek as you look away from him shyly. he walks away to get a wet paper towel. "this is as good as it's gonna get." you laugh as he cleans you both off and throws away the paper towel. he grabs your thong and helps you get dressed, sitting you back down on the chair. your legs were already getting sore, and you could only imagine how bad it would be tomorrow morning. 

after suguru got dressed, he double-checked the shop, making sure everything was good for him to leave. you just sat watching as he walked around, in shock that you actually got to fuck him. maybe the next time you should do it in the mirror, you thought to yourself as he handed you your purse. 

"ready to go?" he asked and you nodded walking alongside him. "now i'm going to have to take you on a date to ask the real question." he said raising his brow and looking at you.

"what question?" you asked, acting dumb, wanting to hear it now, but suguru wasn't falling for it. he opened the door, letting you out first as he hit a light switch.

"guess you'll have to find out during the date. how does friday sound?" he asked and without even thinking you obliged.

"friday is fine!" you say, concluding if you did have anything planned it would just have to be canceled.

"sounds good." he smirks, taking one final look around and turning off the final light switch. suguru locked the doors and thought to himself: i'll never quit. he wouldn't dare forget the memory of your fucked out face every time he'd do a tattoo on that same exact chair.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, toxic relationship, arguing

I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. My eyes flickered open, it took me a minute to realise that I wasn’t in my room. Then it hit me, I was in Matt’s bed.

My heart sank, I sat up quickly, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling a weird mix of comfort and awkwardness. Why did it feel so nice to be here?

I didn’t ponder on the thought for too long. Pushing myself up, I walked out of Matt’s bedroom. I sauntered into the living area, and there he was, sprawled on the couch, one arm resting lazily over the back of the couch, the other holding his phone. His eyes looked up as soon as he heard me approach.

“How are you feeling now?” he said, his voice low 

I stalled for a moment, still caught between the fog of sleep and the awkwardness of the situation. “Better..” I admitted.  “Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed.”

He shrugged, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips. “No problem. You needed the rest.”

The atmosphere in the room felt.. odd. Not in a bad way, just unfamiliar. Too nice. The kind of nice that would make you second guess everything. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to shake the feeling.

“I should go grab my sketch pad” I said quickly, breaking the silence. “I need to finish off some designs.”

Matt nodded, his expression unreadable as he watched me. 

I gave him a quick side smile before turning and heading up the stairs to my room. I flicked on the lights and my gaze shifted almost immediately to the corner of my room. A white AC cooler now plugged in, keeping the room at a perfect temperature. My eyes then fell to my bed. Sitting on top of the neatly made covers was an eye mask and a pair of earplugs, placed carefully as if someone had intentionally left them there.

I stood there in slight shock. “Did Matt do all this?” I muttered to myself, picking up the eye mask and turning it over in my hands.

Maybe this was Matt waving a white flag. A quiet, small gesture of goodwill to make things easier between us. Maybe it would actually be easy to live here now. It was almost like a weight lifted off my shoulders, cutting through the animosity between us. I should go thank him,

Eye mask still in hand, I turned to make my way back downstairs. But just as I reached the door, the sound of voices carried up the staircase. Chris and Nick were back from their day of meetings.

“I genuinely should be your Director forever” Chris’s voice was loud and triumphant, with a bit of arrogance. “I would make such an impact working at Space Camp!”

Nick laughed, his tone sarcastic. “You took a few photos, Chris. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

I hesitated in the doorway, before walking down the stairs, all four of us now gathered in the living area, but I felt a shift in the atmosphere again. Matt immediately returned to his usual cold demeanor. He shot me an arrogant look. "Look who's finally out of bed"

I raised an eyebrow, questioning why he’d say that, especially since he knew how I was feeling, how he went out of his way, in multiple forms to try fix it. It felt petty.

Chris tilted his head, curious. "Did you sleep all day?"

I shook my head, brushing off Matt’s comment. "No, just a nap. I had a migraine earlier" I explained. "But I’ve nearly finished my sketches for the patches." I added, eager to prove myself.

"Nice!" Chris said with an approving nod. "Can you show me them?"

Nick flopped onto the couch beside Matt, giving me a quick smile. “Of course she nearly has them done, it's like witchcraft how she gets things done so fast.”

I smiled back faintly, trying to settle into the group dynamic, though Matt’s comment still lingered in the back of my mind. It was a reminder that even with small moments of truce, things could snap back to how they were in an instant.

’Yeah let me go grab them” I agree.

Before I can leave, Chris’ phone buzzes, the vibration loud enough to catch both of our attention. The screen lights up with a name: Nate.

Chris grins, already reaching for it. “Hold that thought. Nate’s calling. I gotta answer this first.” Without waiting for a response, he picks up and disappears toward the bathroom for privacy, leaving the rest of us in the room.

I wander upstairs ti grab my sketch pad, not wanting to sit in the awkwardness with Matt. I step over the AC cooler, carefully avoiding the tangle of wires on the floor, and grab the sketch pad from my desk. My hand lingers for a moment over the cover, my mind racing with everything I still need to finish. 

By the time I make it back downstairs, Chris has come back from the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear. His energy is even higher than it was before, showing a stark contrast to the tension that’s settled between Matt and I. Again.

“So, Nate’s in.” he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. 

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Nate” Chris repeats, his grin widening. “Nick and I called him earlier and convinced him to come to Hawaii with us. He’s flying into LA tomorrow morning since there’s no other available flights, told him he could stay here while we’re in Vegas.”

“Wait, Nate’s coming here?” I ask, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. He was only someone I met briefly once, but he seemed cool.

“Yup. He’ll crash here until we’re back, then fly with us to Hawaii.” Chris explains, looking proud of himself.

Matt perks up instantly, his face lighting up with a genuine smile, which around me was a rarity. “That’s sick!” he says, leaning forward with sudden enthusiasm. “This is gonna be good.”

I can’t help but notice the shift in Matt’s tone. It’s the kind of warmth and excitement he never seems to have when he’s talking to me. Amazing, really, how he can be so happy with five people in this house but act so cold when it’s just four.

I drop into the chair across from him, clutching my sketch pad a little tighter. The contrast stings more than I want to admit, why is he like this with me? I decide to focus on Chris instead, who’s still riding the high from Nate’s call.

Chris plops back onto the couch, gesturing toward the pad in my hands. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I even have the energy to go through the designs, but I set the sketch pad on the table and flip it open to the latest pages.

Chris leans forward, his expression genuinely interested as he studies the designs. “These are unbelievable” he says after a few moments, nodding in approval. “Exactly the vibe I was thinking. We’ll go over colorways tomorrow, but this is a solid start.”

“Great I was thinking adding letters into the patches too, all we need to decide on a font.” I say, but realistically my thoughts are already elsewhere. 

It’s hard not to feel like the outsider in this group sometimes, and Matt’s solely the reason. But then days like today confuse me, I catch myself thinking about the small things Matt has done, the AC, the earplugs, the eye mask, letting me sleep in his bed. Maybe I’m the problem?

I glance over at Matt, who’s back to scrolling on his phone, his expression unreadable. I sit back in my chair, flipping through the pages of my sketch pad while the idea lingers in my mind. I really should thank Matt for what he did, even if he’d probably just shrug it off or make some snide remark. Still, it feels right.

But how do I do it without the awkwardness? Without it becoming another weird, tension filled moment between us? Especially with other people around.

I pull out my phone and open the Uber app, scrolling through nearby stores. Target pops up, and I click on it, searching for something simple, like a Thank You card. I scroll past the overly formal ones and find one that feels more neutral, a plain white card with a gold "Thanks" embossed on the front.

As I add it to my cart, I pause for a moment, debating whether to leave it at that or add something else. A thank you card alone might come across as too formal, like I've not made that much of an effort. My finger hovers over the snack section before I give in and start browsing.

Matt isn’t exactly hard to read when it comes to his tastes. I’ve seen him tear through a bag of jelly worms during one of his late night streams, so I add a pack of those. Then a couple of chocolate bars for good measure. It feels like a decent enough gesture, casual, thoughtful, but not too over board.

I double check the delivery address and confirm the order. The app tells me it’ll be here within the next half hour. Perfect.

I glance across the room at Matt again. He hasn’t looked up from his phone, completely absorbed in whatever he’s scrolling through. Part of me wants to say something now, just to break the silence, but I don’t trust myself not to fumble over the words. This will be easier, quieter, but hopefully meaningful.

Chris, meanwhile, is still flipping through the sketches. “Seriously, you’re killing it with these” he says, his tone casual but genuine.

“Thanks” I reply, though my mind is still focused on the delivery.

About twenty minutes later, my phone buzzes with a notification: Your Target order has arrived. I slip out of the living area as discreetly as I can and head toward the front door.

The small brown bag is waiting at the door. I grab it quickly and head upstairs to my room, where I can put everything together without an audience.

I pull the card out first, grabbing a pen from my desk. I keep the message short:

Thanks for today, and the new bits for my room. I really appreciate it. - Y/n

It feels slightly awkward writing it, but at least it’s honest. I slip the card into its envelope and tuck it into the bag with the snacks.

Now comes the hard part. How do I get this to him without making it weird? After a moment of hesitation, I decide to leave it outside his bedroom door. He’s bound to come across it eventually, and it saves both of us the awkwardness of a face to face.

I wait until the living area clears out, Chris and Nick head to their rooms, and Matt disappears into his. Then, with the bag in hand, I quietly creep toward his door and set it down infront of the door.

Now all I can do is wait, and hope this can smooth out whatever tension is between us.

I head to my room and for once, the air feels bearable, thanks to the cooler Matt got me. I drop onto my bed, sighing into the quiet. I grab my phone, ready to set an alarm for the morning. My thumb hovers over the clock icon when a notification pops up at the top of the screen:

Thanks for ordering! How was your order? Tip Ethan.

I stare at it for a second, my stomach twisting. Ethan. God, that name. It feels like it’s haunting me, popping up when I least expect it.

I push the notification away reflexively, not clicking into the Uber app. I set my alarm and toss my phone onto the nightstand, my chest slightly aching. Why does something so small feel like a punch in the gut?

Shaking my head, I pull the blanket over me, turning onto my side. Tomorrow is a new day, I tell myself. A day to focus on work, on designs, on anything but ghosts from the past.

I close my eyes, hoping to let sleep take control.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring on the nightstand. I groan softly, but I force myself up, knowing I can’t afford to hit snooze. I stretch, pull on a hoodie, and head downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet, which I’m grateful for. Matt’s probably still asleep, and Nick doesn’t emerge before 10 if he doesn’t have to.

I make myself some scrambled eggs and toast, moving quickly around the kitchen, aware of the time. Chris and I have a meeting scheduled for 9am to finalize designs, and I’m thankful we get to do it here, at his kitchen table. 

Chris walks in just as I’m finishing my coffee. His hair is slightly messy, and he’s wearing a black hoodie and joggers, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

“Morning” he says, voice husky.

“Morning” I reply, offering a small smile.

He gets himself a soda, leans against the counter, and takes a sip. “Ready for this meeting?”

“As ready as I can be for 9am” I say, grabbing my sketch pad and laptop from the chair beside me.

We settle at the kitchen table, Chris leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of the table as we go over the color options. The table is scattered with swatches, mockups, and half drank liquids.

“So” he says, holding up a navy, white and red combo, “I think this one is clean. It’s classic, but it’s fresh.”

I nod. “Agreed. Navy, white and red always works.”

We scribble down notes on the mockup before moving to the next pairing. Chris points to a pink and red combination I’d suggested earlier. “I actually love this. It’s bold but not obnoxious.”

“Right? It’s kind of unexpected but still wearable” I reply. 

We continue debating until we settle on a full lineup: navy, white and red, pink and red, lilac and violet, and an all black option. 

“All black is always a hit” Chris says, jotting it down. “This is solid. I think we’ve got something here.”

We sit in silence for a moment, both of us looking over the finalized ideas. It feels good to have something concrete, a sense of accomplishment settling over me.

Before we knew it, everything was finalized and sent off to the manufacturer for samples. I was filled with a sense of relief and excitement.

“Alright” Chris said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’d better get going to the airport. Nate’s flight should be landing in an hour.”

As if timed perfect, Nick appeared at the bottom of the stairs, yawning and stretching dramatically. He leaned against the wall, still in his pajamas. “You’re heading to the airport?” he asked, his voice groggy but intrigued.

Chris nodded. “Yeah, to grab Nate.”

Nick’s eyes lit up. “Take me with you! I need breakfast. Please.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “You just woke up, and you want me to detour so you can fill your face?”

Nick clasped his hands together in mock pleading. “Yes! Please!. It’s a win win. You get company driving, and I get tater tots. Come on, you love me.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Chris sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “Fine. But we’re not making a whole morning out of it. Quick stop and that’s it.”

Nick grinned triumphantly and darted back upstairs, calling over his shoulder. “Give me five minutes! I’ll be ready!”

Chris glanced at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s like a child sometimes.”

I laughed. “That’s rich coming from you.”

As Chris grabbed his keys and jacket, he paused. “You good here?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve got plenty to do” I assured him as he headed out. 

A few moments later, I heard Nick bolting back down the stairs, still pulling on his Ugg’s as he followed Chris out the door.

Now that the chaos of work had settled, I decided to take a rare moment for myself. I sank into the L shaped couch, grabbing the remote and began catching up on some shows. For once, it felt like I could truly relax.

Then all of a sudden, I hear this loud, insistent pounding at the front door, completely shattering any calm I created. I froze, unsure of what to do. I didn’t like answering the door in general. Maybe it was just a delivery? But the pounding continued, more urgent this time. Should I get it? I hesitated, glancing at the empty stairs. I mean, I did live here now, sorta. If it was something important and it was missed, it would be on me.

I hopped up from the couch, cursing under my breath about how Matt should really be the one to deal with this. Each step down the stairs felt heavier as the pounding persisted. I reached the door and swung it open.

And there he stood.

Ethan.

Of all people, Ethan.

The world around me started to spin. His face was the last thing I expected to see. He looked rougher around the edges, but unmistakably him. For a moment, neither of us spoke, just staring at each other.

“Hey” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes searching mine.

“What.. are you doing here?” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I needed to see you” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My instinct was to shut the door, panic and adrenaline coursing through my veins. My mind spun. How did he know I was here? Then it clicked in my brain.

The Uber notification.

He was the driver.

“Wait!” Ethan yelled, shooting his hand out to block the door before it could fully close.

“Ethan, what the fuck? What the fuck are you even doing here?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw attention. 

“Just hear me out” he said, his tone becoming more insistent with every sentence.

“No. Absolutely not. You shouldn't even know where I am.”

His lips pressed together into a thin line, already getting frustrated. “It wasn’t intentional. I seen the name and recognised the address and I just couldn’t leave it so-”

“So you thought randomly showing up was a good idea?” I interrupted, my voice now raising.

Ethan sighed aggressively, leaning against the doorframe, his hand keeping the door open with his firm grip. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just.. I wanted to see you. We didn’t exactly end things on the best terms.”

I let out a pitiful laugh, trying to keep my composure. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Look” he said, his tone softening, “I know I fucked up, but I’ve been thinking about you. About us.”

I shook my head, stepping back trying to make the distance between us known. “Ethan, whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it here. You’ve honestly lost it, showing up here like this. After everything you did? Trashing my apartment, stealing my things, making me homeless. You crossed every line.”

Ethan threw his hands up defensively. “I came here to talk. To explain.”

“Explain?” I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut. “Explain what? How you thought destroying my home was some way of winning me back? You’ve got to be fucking joking. I don’t want to hear it, Ethan. I just want my locket back. That’s it.”

Ethan’s expression darkened, and his voice dripped with venom. “You really are a bitch, you know that?”

His words hit me across the face, but I didn’t flinch. I’d dealt with his manipulation long enough to know how to stand my ground.

“Call me whatever you want. Just give me my locket.” I said firmly, trying to hold back tears longing for my locket.

Ethan smirked, taking a step closer. “I was going to give it to you. I really was. But not now. Not after you acting like this.”

I took a step back, my blood boiling. “Me? Acting like this? You’ve got some nerve, Ethan. Leave.”

He didn’t budge, his presence suffocating the space between us. I repeated myself, louder this time. “Go, Ethan. I’m serious. Leave. Now.”

But Ethan stayed firmly rooted in place, his defiance infuriating and almost threatening. Just as I was about to speak again, a voice came from behind me.

“She’s asked you to leave, kid.”

I turned to see Matt standing a few steps above me, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed, but his eyes told a different story.

Ethan’s face scrunched. “This isn’t your business, man.”

“It is when you’re standing at my front door,” Matt replied, his voice low and steady. “She’s told you to leave. I suggest you do before this gets embarrassing for you.”

Ethan’s stance finally cracked, and with a final glare in my direction, he muttered something under his breath before stepping back.

“This isn’t over” Ethan said, pointing at me as he turned to walk away.

“Oh, it is.” Matt laughed after him.

The door clicked shut, and for a moment, silence filled the hallway.

“You okay?” Matt asked, his face softening as he looked at me.

I nodded, though my heart was still thumping. “Yeah.. Thanks for that.”

Matt shrugged. “No problem. Guy’s a fucking loser.”

I displayed a small smile, but the feeling of the encounter lingered. Ethan may have left, but his shadow loomed, reminding me that he wasn’t out of my life just yet.

As we walked up the stairs at the front door, the sound of voices and footsteps echoed from the garage staircase. A second later, Chris, Nick, and Nate appear in the living area, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Chris stopped mid laugh when he saw us standing there, his gaze flicking between Matt and me. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone curious.

a/n: protective matt unlocked

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[londonfoginacup]

Personal stream of consciousness around Liam and grief and moving forward

Every day I wake up and Liam is still dead. It continues to sort of feel like at some point I will wake up and that won’t be true, that he’ll be back, like he’s just on a trip right now. And I think that’s… a normal part of the grieving process, but it’s hard because it feels disrespectful, almost.

I only did 8 days of inktober this year. I had another ten sketched out already in my notebook, and now I wonder what to do with those. Some of them were good! (Some weren’t). I was older than Liam by a month or so, but for some reason I want to be able to go to him now, and show him those sketches, and say, I do art too! Aren’t you proud of me?

Death is a horrible and unnatural thing. It was never supposed to happen to us. We grieve because we were not made to lose people. We were made to love them forever. Grief is our body trying desperately to reconcile with a reality it was never made for. That is why it feels this way. We were not made for a life like this. We were made to hold one another in our arms. We were made to love each other. We were made for more.

I want to tell him that. That he was made for more than he got. I hope someday I can.

When tumblr started having polls, I always voted the Liam option, and in part that was because I love Liam and I would’ve chosen him regardless. But in part it was with the thought that, if he were to ever snoop on our community here, I wanted Liam to see that he had people in his corner. I don’t regret that. I’m sad it’s all I could do.

I was thinking about it earlier. About One Direction. I tried to slice it so many ways and I came to the conclusion that Liam and Louis are the ones that I think were the heart. I think 1D could’ve come back together to tour, make music, and so on, as long as it had at least those two. 1D could never exist without Liam. It just couldn’t. He loved them too much.

Obviously, I haven’t turned my queue back on. I haven’t felt right reblogging current day stuff about the boys. It feels like turning that back on will indicate being ready to move on, to some extent. And okay, I’ll never be ready so there’s that. But. The idea of turning it back on doesn’t feel right. Not yet.

That being said, I started last month preparing for Christmas. For the 25 days of fic rec I do, and the advent fic. And of course cards. I had decided just a week before Everything Happened that I couldn’t afford to do physical cards this year. And I feel ten times more guilty about that decision now, because it feels like surely people NEED that! But I am also trying to be realistic with myself; so many wonderful people have offered to help financially, and any other time I think I would’ve taken them up on that, but right now the emotional and mental weight of doing physical cards might also be too heavy.

Which, again, makes me feel like I’m letting people down when they need me. If I could, I would send all of you personalized letters every day. It is so hard to reckon with the knowledge that I am only human and must take care of myself.

But I will do the fic recs. that’s easy; I’ve already finished the post graphics.

And I will do the advent fic (I might change my plot— the original one didn’t have a lot of Liam, but i think I need him there more).

And I will make some sort of digital cards for sure. It occurred to me this year that I never put my paper dolls online anywhere and I sort of wonder why not. At least maybe this will be a treat for anyone too wary of sending a stranger online their address— all of you can print th paper dolls for yourselves. I’ll make plenty of outfits.

So. That’s my plan, I suppose. I’ve cried writing this more than I’ve cried all week, I think because it’s easy to think that I am past the worst of the grieving right up until I have to look head on at the facts again.

I miss him. I miss him. How could this happen.

[veinsfullofstars]

18. 💓 How did they tell their friends that they were together/do their friends know or is their relationship a secret?

for metadede?

this one might be hard to extract from your childhood friends AU (and i admittedly am mostly thinking about bow and para when i ask), but you said you'd prefer to avoid AU stuff so if you don't want to answer this for that reason let me know and i can send a different one!! 💖

Oh, it’s not a problem, Starflung - I’m finding that my general headcanons and my AU headcanons match up more than I thought for some of these prompts, haha. And, luckily, I have an AU answer for this one! Er, kind of. After all, we’ve only gotten a teeny tiny glimpse at the day it happened, and I do very much want to explore the full context of that at a later point (*winces at the 80k wordcount in my notes*). But I think I’m okay with sharing this: that spontaneous first kiss was very much out in the open and happened in front of a few significant people. This is what happened approximately ten minutes after, both on Popstar-

-and on the GSA recruitment ship leaving the planet.

Plenty of teasing for only just now getting their acts together, but also a lot of love and support. DDD’s mama is elated to see “her boys” finally take the next step (though she does worry about the long-distance thing). Para is relieved to no longer have to carry the secret DDD confided in him not so long ago. Bow is… processing things, both about their friends and themself. Ace and Fringe are still trying to navigate how to be nice to the kid they spent years treating like dirt. Where they go from here, well… that’s for another time, I’m afraid. We still have much to learn about how they even got here let alone fell in love along the way…

Sketch started 02/20/25, sketch finished 02/22/25. | Kirby Ship Ask Game (made by @/sweetandglovelyart) and alternate questions | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

(there was no more room in the tags, so I'll just drop my extra comments down here:)

#this does feel a bit spoilery… but I guess I did already show the kiss and said from the start this was pre-ship so #someday we’ll learn about all the [REDACTED] that lead to this moment… #little sack of potatoes DDD #tiny bundle of bat wings Meta #also some unexpected character reveals yay! #(after spending approximately forever chipping away at them in the Concept Mines... and even then I'm not sure I'm fully sold on 'em yet) #(might need another pass or two before I consider them finalized... but anyway) #say hi to Bebebe - DDD’s mama; and Ace and Fringe - MK’s “friends” (at least at this point in the story) #they are IMPORTANT and hopefully I will have the energy to tell you why someday #(though don’t let that stop you from asking about them if you’re curious - I'm sure I got tidbits)

[vibratingskull]

The last farewell

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

Tags : Angst/hurt/comfort, physical remission, hospital, reader is disabled

You spend your time in the hospital learning how to walk again when Thrawn visits you with an unexpected demand

FemaleReader x Thrawn

“Another step”, the meddroid proposes its voice echoing in the gymnase. 

You hold down the parallel bar and take another step, unsure. 

You're trembling, searching for your balance on those robotic legs. You're not used to them yet. They feel foreign to you despite connecting to your nervous system. Your muscles are shaking as you relearn how to walk. 

You lost so much. 

“Continue the rehabilitation, you are on the right track!” the droid speaks with what is surely supposed to be coded as excitement in the voice, but it just comes out weird. 

You sit on your wheelchair and take out the legs, you still have an immense hill ahead of you. 

You sigh. You're tired. 

“Let's go to your room,” the droid informe stepping forward to push you. 

“No. I'll do it myself,” you decide, waving at him to get out of your way. 

You roll in the hallway, lost in your thoughts. You have so much work ahead of you, so much to reconquer… You're supposed to receive the visit of lower officers but you don't want their pity thrown in your face, you need peace. 

You want peace. 

You arrive at his room. 

You don't get your hopes up, but you can't help it. 

You pass the door… and sigh. 

Vez is still in a coma. 

You roll up to his bed. 

“Hello friend. It is particularly sunny today, you would love to stroll in the garden and sketch some plants.“

He is unresponsive. It's not like a doctor told you he would wake up soon, but it still pains you to see. 

If they have been cruel to you, they have been down right animalistic to Vez. His legs have been cut and he lost both of his lekkus. You're not totally aware of what it entails but you remember the lekkus hold some brain tissues. The docs say he will not have long term brain damages but you doubt he will see it that way. What they took was irreplaceable and you're afraid of his reaction. 

For now he's sleeping peacefully as you were, unaware of his body's damages. Like you his brain puts him in a deep sleep to prevent him from damaging his psyche, docs say he will wake up when the brain will have finished processing what happened but he can still hear around him and feel some sensations. So you come here everyday to talk, to vent, to speak of everything and nothing, trying to put him at ease the best you can. You take his hands, caress his forehead, his cheek, you tell him tales of Ryloth and your own planet, anything you could think about. After the Chimaera left you both at a military hospital you observed these habits religiously. Thrawn wanted first to put Vez in a civil hospital but you refused and fought him on that until he surrendered. You wanted to be here when your friend woke up. 

“I'm making progress with the legs, I thought they would be heavier but once they have been connected to your nervous system they are so light.“

Your hand reaches for the metallic apparatus they jabbed in your spine to control the legs and grazes it lightly.

“We don't stop medical progress,” you say almost to yourself.

You hear his bed neighbor cough, you tilt your head to see if they need help. 

“By the way, yesterday your mom tried to see you. She can't because it's a military hospital but your family is worried about you. I could discuss a bit with her, you're so alike it is fascinating, you caress his cheek, you take his hand and squeeze it. Don't worry, I'll ask Thrawn to put pressure on the direction so she could see you.” 

“A Grand Admiral influence is not supposed to be used as such,” a voice rises behind you. 

You jump in your wheelchair before turning your head to Thrawn, hands clasped behind his back with an interrogative gaze. 

“You scared me,” you chastise him. “How did you know I was here ?” 

“I knew you would not be present at your own meeting with the officers, you were not in the gymnase, it was the only logical option.” 

You nod. Of course. He comes to sit next to you and observe the body of Vez in silence. 

“He did not wake up?” He asks with a soft voice. 

“Not yet,” you shake your head. “The doctors aren't optimistic.“

He nods in silence. 

”Why are you here ?” You inquire. 

He turns towards you with a puzzled look. 

“To give you what you asked me,” he responds like it was obvious. 

You can see the bag he's transporting

“Yes of course, but what are you doing here, on Coruscant ?” 

“I have a martial court about how I supposedly almost destroyed a city to retrieve you.” 

You flush. 

“Didn't you ?” You tease. 

“Absolutely not, each parameter was studied to do the least damage possible, but it was impossible not to deal some damage to the buildings nearby. The arrest of a large slave abductors demanded some sacrifices.” 

He sounds almost angry, but you know better. You hide your smile, it is pretty funny to see Thrawn flounder in politics, it has an innocent and moving side to it. Without thinking about it you take his hand and kiss it. He looks you in the eyes with an unreadable expression. You immediately regret it, maybe he doesn't like physical demonstration of affection in public… 

“Let me escort you to your room,” he says. 

He rises and goes to push your wheelchair, once again you refuse. 

“No, no, no. I can do it. Let me do it.” 

You head towards the room, side by side, he gently adjusts his pace to yours. You advance in silence in the corridors. 

You really hope you didn't cross a line with him… 

You enter, he goes straight to open the window while you maneuver to go to bed. He closes and locks the door and sits on the bed. You look at him with sorry spelled in your eyes. He grasps your hand and caresses it with his thumbs. 

“ I heard you will soon be interrogated by the ISB agents.”

“In three days,” you sigh,” it promises to be hilarious.”

“It is for the good of the Empire.”

“Sure…”

You gulp, in reality you try as much as you can to not think about what happened or you feel yourself overflowed by hate, anger and sorrow. 

It’s eating you alive, terrifying you. You may or may have not exaggerated certain symptoms to get a higher dosage of the drugs to get high and forget. You don’t brag about it to Thrawn, obviously.

“ The date of the trial have been chosen,” he continues

You dig your nails in the sheet.

“Okay…”

Thrawn already explained to you how Nather was surprised by the flash operation, how him and his goons fighted in each rooms, how much lives he took, how he almost made the entire structure collapse on itself with everyone under it when he realized he was trapped but was swiftly disarmed by a precise shot of one of the Stormtroopers. Now he remains silent, surrounded by his army of lawyers in the prisons of the Empire, he refuses to give any intel or names to the ISB agents, hiding behind his pride and his fan. As a prominent Governor he doesn't get the rough treatment, but they are not nice to him either, he holds on surprisingly well. 

You’re not ecstatic at the idea of seeing him again, even in the perspective of his own trial. You’re happy justice will be served, but you don’t know how you’ll react in his present. Will you burst into tears or try to kill him on the spot? Maybe you will go into a deafening torpor and dissociate completely from your body. You don’t know… for now the simple idea of seeing him again makes you sick. 

Thrawn puts your hand to his lips and kisses it delicately. 

“I know it is painful and uncomfortable, but it must be done, he tries to comfort you, be strong.”

You gulp.

“ … Will you be with me?”

“ I have to give my own testimony, so yes. I will be at your side.”

You feel relieved to hear that, knowing that you won’t be alone in this trial alleviate the pain and ease the knot in your stomach.

Thrawn reaches for the bag, changing the difficult subject

“I brought you what you asked for.”

You take it to verify what it holds. You found your purse, the key to your apartment, some holos, your personal datapad… You thank him with a heartfelt smile. He nods with a serious face. 

“There is also an important matter I wish to discuss with you,” he says with the most stern face. 

“Okay ?” 

You brace yourself, he looks a bit tense and that scares you. What could possibly put him in this state ? Are you both suspected in the affair? Did you do something wrong? Outside of getting yourself imprisoned like a damn rookie. Is he gonna criticize your tactical decisions on that day? Is he entangled in problems after helping you out? Did they criticize him for engaging in armed conflicts while on supposed vacation. Come to think of it, he surely didn't take any vacations and planned this from the beginning. 

You look at him ready for any slap across the face, but he manages to surprise you. 

“(Y/n), would you live with me?” 

The air is punched out of your lungs and you can't think straight during three seconds 

“ Would I… What ?” 

By reflex you retract your hand from his and pull the sheet over yourself. 

“Would you live with me?” 

“Yes, I heard the first-I mean… Urgh... Why ?” 

He holds his chin like he is gathering arguments. 

“I do not think you will be able to keep the apartment Governor Satlove is paying for you.” 

You tried to push that thought away so many times, but he's right, unfortunately. 

“And I am already living in the apartment you rent me, I think we should try.”

Well, you didn’t see him as that keen but it looks like you were wrong. And you can’t help a snarky remark.

“ Isn’t it just an adroit ploy to stop paying me your rent?” You grin.

“ No, I am serious, I think we can both benefit from that idea.”

“ I know. It’s a joke. I was joking.”

He looks like he’s computing the info. 

You munch on your lower lip, feeling like a little girl. You giggle, squirming on the bed like a child. 

You never lived with one of your… partners? 

“It seemed to me like a good solution, but I understand you would not appreciate the idea,” he tempers.

“No, no, no! It’s a good idea! It’s just… It’s so sudden.”

“ I figured that is what people like us tend to do.”

“ And what “people like us” are?” You ask.

He seems to think about it.

“Ch'an'ecivon'ot.”

“I have no idea what that means.” You smile wryly

“In basic you would say…” He caresses your hand with the tip of his fingers “Soulmates.”

You freeze again, processing the info.

“That is what we are then?” you ask breathlessly. “Isn’t it a tad dramatic?”

“You think?” He smiles lightly “I thought about us and I liked how that sounded.”

He seems to notice your reluctance.

“I shocked you.”

“No? No, no,no” You try and temper “It’s just that you're coming out really strong and serious and…”

“Yes, I am serious. I am serious about our relationship. Are you not?”

“I… Didn’t have time to properly think about it.” You admit.

He gauges you up and down.

“Do you love me?” he asks bluntly.

You're so taken aback, being cornered like that. Your mouth and throat are dry, you open your lips to speak but nothing comes out.

You love him.

You do, oh yes you do.

But you never worded it, and even less spoke it out loud.

He seems to relax and smile sadly at your discomfited expression.

“Pardon me. It is wrong of me to ask you without telling you first. I should not have put you in a corner like that.” He gently holds your face and kiss your forehead, “Do not fret, cha’cah.”

You slowly relax under his touch.

“Alright, I must go now. I wish you a rapid recovery… “

He seems to hesitate. 

“And come back to me quickly,” he said it so low you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did hear it.

He kisses your forehead and leaves the room.

You look in your purse if he didn’t put your comlink in, but find something else. With a raised eyebrow you take out the envelope simply signed with “Eli”. You completely forgot about that. You never took the time to read the last letter your friend left for you.  You open it carefully, taking ou the folded sheet of paper.

“ (Y/n), I hope this letter finds you better than when I left. I must leave to help Thrawn, but I trust we will see each other again, if you stay by his side it is bound to happen, I am sure. Do not leave his side, it is the most secure place in all the galaxy, and I have reason to think you are not safe. I had the occasion to speak with Governor Satlove alone, and this man sent shivers down my spine, I see nothing behind his eyes but a black void. I do not trust this man (Y/n) and so should you, something is not right with him. He made some inappropriate advances and tried to convert me to his church without my interest. I pushed him back but he insisted. There is something about him downright animalistic and uncivilized despite the dignity he drapes himself in. I had the occasion to speak about it with Thrawn and he agreed with me. Do not refuse the help of a friend, and accept my warning. I picked upon your disdain towards me recently, and even though I don’t know why I want you safe. If I ever did something to anger you, know that I am truly sorry. I wish I could tell you face to face, but I have to go. 

Farewell my friend, I hope to see you under better auspices.

Eli.”

This time tears roll down freely, your body is shaken by sobs, your hands holding the letter tremble erratically. 

“Eli… Oh Eli…” You cry.

How could you? How could you doubt him? Your own friend. But maybe you don’t deserve to call him friend after how you treated him. You hold the letter against your heart. He never deceived you, it’s all Nather’s fault, isolating you more and more, until you had no friend remaining. But he couldn’t get rid of Thrawn and Eli completely. And he won’t be able anymore…

“Hey, girl! How are you feeling?”

You raise your head in surprise, an overjoyed Karyn is here but her expression changes immediately when she sees you crying. She immediately sits on the bed and takes your hand.

“What’s happening (Y/n)?”

“Eli… Eli…“ You can’t formulate a proper sentence.

She takes you in her arms and cradles you.

”We will find him. I promise,” she assures.

She doesn't know the truth, and it is not your place to reveal it. So you just hug her back, squeezing her in your arm, appreciating the warmth of a friend.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch in greyscale of Eliot Spencer, although only part of him (the feet, forearms, and part of his legs) can be seen, crouching beside the body of a woman who is lying on her front with her eyes wide open. In Eliot’s left hand he holds a long string of pearls. End ID] Day 25: "Why didn't you save me?"

Pre-Leverage Eliot as he finishes a hit (just to clarify because I accidentally made the woman look a bit like Parker, it is not Parker! That would be too angsty for my brain, unless it was for a con)

Ficlet below the cut

-

"Why didn't you save me?"

There was accusation in the unseeing gaze of the woman’s corpse.

Eliot heard it, heard the absurd question.

Absurd because the answer was obvious.

His orders required him to do the opposite. He was the one she needed to be saved from, and it was never an option that he should fail this job. Only once had he failed since he turned to the hitter’s life, and he had almost not. He had almost succeeded. He had managed to get the sapphire monkey out of North Korea after escaping the prison in which he had been thrown. He had retrieved it from where he stashed it, he had made it all the way to Japan, but then his body had failed him.

A moment of unconsciousness. No more than an hour.

The precious object disappeared.

Eliot had failed to deliver and he had suffered months of harassment from low rent thugs for it. Nothing to bother him too much, but an irritant, and one that got in the way it his other jobs.

He had no intention of failing again. Especially not on a job as easy as this.

Earn trust and affection, gain private audience with this woman. Take from her a double string of pearls. Kill her. Deliver proof and the pearls to his client.

He crouched beside the still-warm body, feeling the weight of accusation in her fading eyes, and carefully removed the pearls from around her broken neck.

As he stood, his eyes locked once more with hers.

That question rang through his head again.

"Why didn't you save me?"

He slipped the pearls into a padded envelope, tucked it into his jeans pocket and looked once more into those eyes.

"Why didn't you save me?"

"'Cus that’s not what I do," he murmured the response aloud, and turned to leave the room, feeling nothing of the guilt or shame or self-disgust some deeply buried part of him knew he should have.

-

[fowl-leaf]

my 2023 summary of art!

Template:here

still not consistently posting anywhere, but I like doing these. they're fun there's a lot of things i would've liked to include but had to exclude, due to not being shareable on this account. maybe i'll have more stuff next year!

this is long, so details under the cut

JANUARY silly lizard oc i generally dont do much single line hatching, so it was nice to fiddle with it this time

FEBRUARY the wittle scrunkly lizard last time i drew this one, they were an lps shitpost, so its nice to like draw them normally lol

MARCH herman is running out of time glasses axolotl but make him neon idk

APRIL fancy calico i honestly dont know whats up with the clothes, i just kinda drew whatever tbh

MAY yippie!! toontown oc! was playing ttcc w/shard and co, this is the character i ended up making i also got covid around april-march iirc so i was feeling horrid for a while (and the remaining symptoms didnt clear up till like june)

JUNE an oc i got years ago but didnt have the confidence to draw for a while lmao anyways i like her colors and shape, she's fun

JULY mandatory artfight posting this was one of the last ones i did! ocs belong to pookapooka and they were so fun to paint

idk if ill be doing artfight again tbh. ive been doing it consistently since sun vs moon but its honestly felt less fun ever since the tiktok invasion`and how ppls behavior has changed, and especially since the whole ownership thing that happened mid fight this year. (not interested in any of the alternatives ive seen either bc they have the same issues, notably worse issues, or are not furry friendly) but tbh that might just be me being disenchanted with online art spaces due to the intensifying shittification of basically everything, fucking rip

AUGUST ring but hes going to jail (again but for real this time) the staxie monthly prompt was barbie mugshots but i . . . i did this with ring and lumos and promptly forgor to do this with cakes and ale like i was planning to lmfao im actually gonna watch the barbie movie tonight, renting it so i can watch it on the big tv (didnt watch in theaters bc expensive (movie tickets are generally 15-25 bucks in my area (compared to the 5-10 in my aunt's area (renting is cheaper per person)), and they changed the chairs to these weird uncomfy pleather recliners that make my skin crawl to "justify the price raise" + i hate sitting for more than an hour i need water, bathroom, stretch, and snack breaks))

SEPTEMBER ganache went over the hedge was very busy w/projects so i did little casual art this was inspired by me comparing the over the hedge version of supermarket by ben folds (upbeat & high energy) vs the one by the clash (melancholy + commercial-induced agony) ever since then i cant stop thinking abt how much the lemon demon guy's voice sounds like the fucking clash guy sdjkhfkjsd also over the hedge was one of my favorite movies as a kid and i watched it at least 10 times before we had to return the dvd to netflix. i also regularly played the flash games on the site until i forgot about it after finding out about miniclip + notdoppler from other kids and decided to use those for flash games instead bc more options lol

OCTOBER dta img for a new oc i got, funny long neck budgie thingy busy w/projects again so little casual art had to use old mini tablet bc previous tablet was completely unusable fucking rip

NOVEMBER ganache + cactus pony, they want to know if you have any bubblegum. do you? busy w/projects again so little casual art doodle i made in heavypaint (one of the old layerless versions, i bought a lisence for it a while ago.) i got a new tablet on black friday since the mini tablet was horrible + my broken tablet was making me work very slow

DECEMBER ring in the void (this is lore accurate) or as nic put it, "fucked up twilight sparkle" lol busy w/projects + gifts so little casual art i actually sketched this w/the mini tablet, but didnt finish it up till getting the new tablet

---

for reading this far, you get to see amogus.

i would've put amogus whisper on the chart but decided against it since im not done with that one yet lmao

[getblackout503]

These are just summaries to their characters, but they are more info to them. I’ll be developing them as the one shots go on, this will help me practice my writing more.

Enjoy!

Jack Harbor: A 24 year old Man of European descent, with red hair, and blue eyes, Standing at 6 feet tall. Though he gives off a cocky, over confident, and brash attitude, when you get to know him he’s just a guy playing an act, mainly because he likes messing with people. But in reality he’s a very level headed man, who can be skeptical at time, while also imaginative, and a bit mischievous. He also has a love for art and animation or any form of entertainment really. But despite that he has a severe inferiority complex, believing himself insignificant and unimportant at times, yet he pushes through thanks to the help of Merlin.

Merlin Benjamin: a 25 year old woman of Hispanic descent, with short brown hair that stops at her shoulders, and violet eyes, and standing at a height 5 feet and 8 inches. An intelligent, kind, hardworking, and respectable woman. Who is respected by all her peers, but is still level headed and humble. Yet she has a bad habit of overworking herself, fearing that she must meet the expectations of others. Something that has affected for most of her life, luckily just as Merlin helps Jack with his inferiority complex, Jack helps her to ensure she is meeting her needs such as water and food. He also tells her not to worry about what others think of her.

Now the story.

———————————

A Box.

A brown, medium size, taped shut box sat on Jack and Merlin’s coffee table.

“So…what’s in it?” Jack asked, he was curious as to what could be in the box.

“For the last time Jack, I don’t know, but my mother will be here to pick it up in an hour or two.” Merlin told her lover, as much as she loved him, his constant questioning was starting to get on her nerves.

“Must be something really important if she sent it here, right?”

“Jack.”

“Alright, I’ll stop pushing.”

“Good, now I have some paperwork to finish up.” Merlin got up to head to her office. “And Jack, whatever you do, don’t open the box.”

“Fine, fine, Alright” Jack just grabbed his sketch book and started to sketch.

While in her office, Merlin works on stacks of paperworks from her office for a good hour and a half. Until she finishes a majority of it, she decides it would be best for her to get a meal before she continues. And once she goes outside of her office and passes the living room, she immediately notices the absurd number of sketchbook papers sprawled on the coffee table. Looking closer she notices that all the sketches are somewhat wacky, insane, yet well drawn, as well as all share the box as their bases. It’s obvious that Jack’s curiosity started to affect his sketches, as he started to draw what he imagined was in the box.

Luckily the box was still unopened.

“Jack?” Merlin called out, not seeing the redhead anywhere in the living room. “Maybe he’s somewhere else in the house.”

As she made herself a light meal to eat she decided to eat in the living room, she moved the sketches and ate her meal. As she finished eating her eyes landed on the box, she was curious as well but she didn’t think of it. Though now looking at the humorous, silly, and somewhat charming drawings that Jack made, she couldn’t help but wonder more as to what was in the cardboard cube.

“Jack’s right, must be something truly important if my mother sent it here.” Merlin continued to look at the box, and now her curiosity was peaking. “Damn it, Merlin Don’t you dare touch the box”

Yet it was tempting to her now, she now too wanted to see what was in the box. Yet the reasonable side of her was telling her why not to open the box. And luckily she was able to resist temptation and leave the box.

“You almost opened the box too, huh?” Jack appeared, probably returning from his own office, since he now had a different sketch book with him.

“Yes, I guess I can’t escape my curiosity.” Merlin admitted.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, curiosity is normal.” He told her. “We’re human, it’s normal to be curious about things, though you’re better at controlling your curiosity then I ever could.”

“That’s not true, you can also control your curiosity well.”

“I still slip up though.” Jack opened the sketch book. “Even so, I don’t think having curiosity is a bad thing.”

“Of course not, it fuels our desire to learn more, it motivates us.” Merlin added. “But in this case we need to put our curiosity aside, luckily my mother should be her soon.”

As if on cue the doorbell rang.

“Hello mother, here is your package.” Merlin greeted her mom.

“Thank you very much dear, as well as you jack.” Merlin’s mother thanked the two.

“You don’t have to mention it ma’am, just glad to help.” Jack then looked at Merlin, as if looking for approval. And with a simple nod of Merlin’s head Jack asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s in the box?.”

“Oh, just some fabrics I’ve been needing.”

“Is that all mom?” Merlin asked. “If so, why send them here?”

“It’s because where your father and I live there’s been porch pirates.”

“Oh, that’s why you sent it here.” Jack answered.

“Correct, I knew you two would keep it safe, so thank you once again.”

“Your welcome mother.”

“Your welcome ma’am.”

“Now take care you two.”

“You as well, mother.”

“Fabrics, didn’t see that coming.” Jack stated.

“Well my mother does like to sew, so it makes sense.”

“Well, wanna go watch a movie?”

“You read my mind.” Merlin smiled.

[rrxaiky]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏.

HSR: Blade x GN! reader.

WARNINGS: MODERN AU . NOT PROOFREAD . OOC [ 0.4K WC ]

"Imagine a modern au where the Stellaron Hunters are a band and Blade falls in love with the person designing clothes for them." - En, 25/05, so I wrote it.

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing ^^

HSR MASTERLIST

You could feel your eyes struggling to stay open. Your eyes moved to the clock on your desk. It was nearing 2AM, and yet here you sat in front of the drafts, sketches and piles of fabric. The Stellaron Hunter’s concert was in a month, and you still had to design one more member’s clothing… Blade’s. All the other outfits were already finished, neatly displayed on the mannequins behind you.

The whirring of the sewing machine filled the room once again, pieces of cloth being strung together. A part of you wanted to call Blade and have him accompany you, knowing he’d probably still be awake, but the other part of you told you not to disturb him… Even though you knew he didn’t mind, and he lived across your home. 

The part of your mind that told you to text him took over, and you found yourself typing to him, “Blade, would you mind coming over? It’d be nice to have some company.” Your blurry eyes peeled open a little to see what you had typed in clearly, and had decided to delete it.

…At least, you thought you had. You didn’t realise that you had pressed ‘send’ before putting your phone away, and that Blade had almost immediately read your message. Your mind hadn’t registered why there would be soft knocking sounds on your door at this time, and here you were now, standing face to face with Blade. He saw how you rubbed your eyes when you opened the door, and how your room for tailoring clothing still had lights turned on while most of the lights around the house had already been turned off. 

“Blade..? What are you doing here?” He could hear the tiredness in your voice. “You sent me a text asking me for company. Though, I think I should be getting you to bed instead,” Blade’s sentence ended with his palm resting on your cheek. Sighing as he realised that you probably didn’t have much energy to respond to him, he invited himself into your home, taking your hands in his as he dragged you to your bedroom. “Wait- Your outfits..” “They can wait,” his response was firm, only standing up to turn the lights in the sewing room off before returning to your side. 

Your eyes had already closed when he returned, now snuggled in soft pillows and blankets, Blade leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before he exited your room. He could come back later with some coffee… And the company you wanted while you worked, but for now, it’d be best to let you get the rest you needed.

He could love you more tomorrow.

RBs & follows are highly appreciated <3

@achy-boo

[luvly-writer]

“You are my sunshine”

Part 35: We give thanks

——————————————-

Jason Todd x Latina! Reader

Social Media Au

Status: Finished

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Jason receiving the love he dESERVES.

Author’s note: Honest,y, I love you guys so so much, you literally, your feedback, seekng you guys enjoy this story as much as I love writing gives my life! Thank you so so so much. Btw! I had to divide it into two parts, so this is just Thanksgiving part one.

Taglist: @lorosette @nanas-teatime @izukuisbaby @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @halleest @randobeetlehouse @prettyacademia00 @tamimemo @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @mxtokko

Series Masterlist:

——————————————-

The last few weeks have been a blur to you. Between helping Nola by sketching some things for her newest photo shoot background, to working with the finishing touches at the sanctuary, signing the contracts with Wayne Enterprises, Queen Industries, and Star Labs and working with all the paper work required, starting a new design for a gazebo in the Wayne Garden’s as a surprise gift for Alfred for Christmas, and spending time with Jason and his family, you were exhausted. You would have gossip sessions at lunch with Stephanie and Nola, a duo that was so chaotic and hilarious you left each meal with your stomach hurting from laughing so hard and visit Cass and Duke at the manor to watch movies. You would take Damian with you every time you went to the sanctuary and would take him out for ice cream after. Even some times, Jason would join you both and you guys would go to the arcade and just have fun. Alfred would invite you on Saturdays to have tea time with him, he would deny it but he was INVESTED in your family tea. Dick would drop by and watch KUWTK and the Bachelor with you (Nola and Jason would join and the three of them SWORE they were the best critics ever, it was hilarious). Jason and you would go to dinner twice a week and he quite literally spent the majority of his time at your apartment. He would crash there after patrol claiming “it was closer to the manor than his apartment and he didn’t want waste much time” knowing it was a big damn lie because his apartment was 15 minutes away from the manor and yours was 25 minutes. SMH, this man. You closet was half your clothes and half his, he had his essentials there, the only thing this man needed was to just say he lived with you and that was it. But he would be caught dead before admitting it because he was a little shit and liked seeing you roll your eyes and laugh in exasperation at his sheer audacity. “I am an independent man, I can live on my own” he would say as he is washing his face with YOUR headband, and you’d laugh and respond, “yeah? When was the last time you slept at you apartment?” To which he would roll his eyes dramatically and mutter, “…that’s not the fucking point” making you wheeze out a laugh.

Before you knew it, Thanksgiving day had arrived. It was three hours and a half before the time you had to be there and you were staring at five outfits in your bed trying to decide which one was better. You had already showered and straightened you hair. Now, you were just standing there on your towel looking at your clothes trying to decide. Jason had already finished getting dressed and was just sitting at your vanity chair in his phone. Soft music played was playing of the background since you had connected your phone to your speaker in order to get ready with music. You kept on alternating between outfits and muttering to yourself in Spanish, stressed cause you still had to do your makeup. Jason locks his phone and decided to just look at you, admiring his girlfriend in her in all her natural splendor. He already had the date where he would go with Bruce and Alfred to search and buy the ring and couldn’t help but feel a giddy sensation in his stomach with just the thought of calling you his wife. He started to smirk slightly hearing you curse in Spanish, finding it so amusing how invested you were in getting the perfect outfit. “Me cago en la madre……este no por que se ve muy de trabajo pero está lindo y este no porque aunque se ve lindo se ve casual. Does this make my shoulders look too wide? Does this shirt even match con el pantalón? Quejesto? (I’m writing it like this cause this is how it sounds with my accent, sorry if some don’t understand, it means “Que es esto?”) Ay noooooo……y si le mando una foto a mami? Ella nunca me dejaría salir fea.” The young girl mutter and Jason couldn’t help but laugh, finding her turmoil absolutely adorable. He stops once she drops her towel, finding her naked body as the most gorgeous thing to exist. He fucking swore, if she were to be a goddess, he would be her most devoted servant. He whistled lowly and when she looked at him as she started was putting on her shirt, he winked, making her giggle. She finally put on the outfit, took a picture and sent it to her mom, then did the rest with the other outfits. “Why do you send them to your mom and not ask me, I’m an amazing fashion critic” whined Jason. “A) the judgment of a Latina woman regarding clothes on a holiday never fails, and b)” she said nearing him and lowering her face to his, “you will say I look good on everything or that it would look better on the floor of the bedroom” she finished giving him a peck on the lips. He smirked in response and said, “which both are very valid answers and I stand by them” making her laugh. Her mom finally answered and she decided liked the choice that her mom suggested so she went with it. She changed to her fit and shooed Jason away from her vanity chair to start her makeup. He began to help her by putting away the rest of her clothes that laid on her bed and then threw himself on it to watch her finish getting ready. He stared at her in awe and she looked at him through the mirror and smiled at him. Oh……Jason was a goner, that girl, man, that girl literally owned his heart. She was his everything. He swore that if all good things in life were to be mixed and became one person, it would definitely be her. Time passed and finally,she finished getting ready.She looked for her purse and her shoes and once she had everything, she told Jason she was ready. He walked up to her and gave her a sweets kiss and grabbed his keys. They went down to the lobby and the apartment complex garage and got in the car. Before starting the engine, Jason looks at you and asks, “ready to meet everyone?” And you nod, your excitement to meet Wonder Woman was beyond the roof.

The ride felt too fast for your liking. You said you were ready but omg you were nervous. Wonder Woman was your fucking icon ok? You had the poster, you dressed up as her more than once you when you were growing up and frankly now that you thought about it, you were kinda embarrassed. It most have shown on your face because Jason laughed and teased you with, “you better not be backing out just because you were a little Wonder Woman fangirl” and at that you look at him him exasperated making him laugh harder, “if I recall correctly, according to everyone, you were also a Wonder Woman fan, so te callas” you shoot back and he nods his head laughing. “Touché, mi sol, touché”.

Finally, Jason parks the car. You got half an hour early, just like Damian requested because he wanted to spend time with you before everyone else arrived and stole your attention away. You both get out of the car, and start walking inside, hands intertwined. You walk into the living room and find Stephanie, Duke, Cass and Tim in a heated game of Mario Cart, oh……that won’t end well, knowing that- “I want next” said Jason from beside you, childlike wonder in his eyes and you hear Dick scream as he comes down the stairs, “So do I!” And you laugh at their antics. “There are a few other controllers there, knowing both of you would want to play and so would Kara, Conner, Roy, Damian and Jon later in the night.” Jason stiffened when he heard Kara was coming as well. She had quite the tendency to flirt with him at ANY chance possible and now that he had his girlfriend here he wasn’t sure how this would turn out. He knew YN trusted him and she wasn’t an insecure woman (I mean duh look at you, you are gorgeous) but he knew Kara had the tendency to be….excessive sometimes. His brothers would constantly tease him about it, since she was young and just crushing on him REALLY BAD, but it had gotten to a point sometimes where it was excessive and even they grew annoyed or uncomfortable. Before he could carry on going downward on a spiral, Tim continued, “But you will have to wait until we finish this one!” Steph pushed her elbow to his, “STEPHANIE STOP FUCKING CHEATING!” Tim screamed, “I AM NOT, YOU JUST SUCK!” She screamed back. “OH GOD HELP ME SO, I SWEAR TIM IF YOU FUCKING THROW THE SHELL AT ME I WI- TIM WOOOOOOOOW REAAALLY TIIIM ITS BECAUSE IM BLACK ISNT IT!?!” Screamed Duke, causing Dick, Jason and you to erupt in a big fit of laughter. Soon you felt two arms on your waist and look down to see Damian clinging to your waist. “Hi, mi pajarito, how are you?” You say as you crouch down and hug him tighter and you can feel his smile on your shoulder. “Good, now that you are here, I must present you to Batcow and Jerry the Turkey, they are most excited to meet you. Alfred the cat and Titus are enlighten to see you again” he says as he pulls you away and you laugh waving at the rest. After going and meeting all his animals, you settled in one of the living rooms of the second floor and you heard him talk about how nice his art club is going and that he met this girl whose name was Miranda and that’s she was “adequate” to hang out with. He told you about their growing friendship and that she talked a lot, specially about her crush on another girl in their class called Katie and how he considered her a terrible match for Miranda but he would be supportive as long as she made his new “ally” happy. You were happy to listen to him talk about his adventures in school. Honestly, happy is an understatement, after knowing all the shit the boy has been through, you were fkn ecstatic. He deserved to enjoy things people his age usually do, whether it was art club or hearing about his friends crushes, Damian Wayne deserved to be a kid. You were sitting on the couch with Damian’s head on your lap when your ever so loving boyfriend walks in. He looks at Damian, who you feel stiff at being caught so vulnerable, and you glare at his, daring him to say something that will make Damian mad. Thankfully, Jason catches the hint and tells you both, “The Kents, the Wonders, and Roy just got here, so Alfred told me to find you both.” And Damian perks up at the sound of Jon’s name. “Thank you, Todd” he says quickly before heading downstairs to his totally not best friend. You laugh and stand up walking towards Jason. You kiss his cheek and began to walk towards the elevator when Jason grabs your hand and pulls you to him, kissing you softly. “One last thing, mi sol” he says once you pull away and you look at him curiously. “Whatever Roy or Artemis say about me, it’s a lie” he says seriously and you bust out laughing, “I’ll be the judge of that,Jason” you say as you pull him towards the elevator and he laughs.

God, nothing could compare to how happy he is whenever you are with him.

___________________________________

<3

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter! WARNING: ADULT CONTENT! Thank you for your support.

Punishment & Teasing - Part 3

“Brigitteeee….” He moaned as she smiled up at him from between his legs, her mouth full. He wasn’t the largest man in the world (thank god!), but where she was concerned, he fit perfectly. They complimented and completed each other, truly believing they were made for the other one. 

“Brigitte….. Brigitte…Stop.” His assertive tone sent a chill down her spine. With a loud pop, she quickly released him from her mouth.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” 

His hand automatically went to his arousal, stroking himself so he wouldn’t lose his erection. “I don’t want to finish in your mouth, baby.” 

“Oh,” she whispered, disappointed she wouldn’t get to taste him this time. But she didn’t remain sad for very long. Her husband was Emmanuel Macron after all. Having sex with him was never a disappointment, no matter where he finished. 

Brigitte slowly lowered herself, inch by inch, until Emmanuel was buried deep inside her. Grabbing her arms, he began to move quickly, knowing it wouldn’t take her long to adjust to his size. Thanks to his tongue and fingers, she was already warmed up and eager to take him in.  

After a few erratic thrusts, she was screaming his name and pulling his hair, bringing him to his grand finale a mere second later. With a string of curse words, he exploded inside her, bracing himself for whenever her body would inevitably collapse on his. 

When they were done, Emmanuel brushed her messy blonde hair away from her face, needing to see those beautiful blue eyes he loved so much. 

“Are you okay?” Emmanuel asked, possessively cupping her ass, grabbing a handful of her cheeks. He always knew she was okay afterwards, but after 25 years of asking, he still needed reassurance. 

Brigitte beamed at him, playfully ruffling his crazy hair, “I’m more than okay.” 

They lay wrapped up in each other's arms for several minutes, enjoying the closeness. When his hands casually dipped between her thighs, he chuckled, feeling the mess he created. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Don’t take too long,” she whispered, already missing his body being intertwined with hers. 

He quickly returned with a box of tissues, ready to wipe away the evidence he left on (and inside) his wife.  

“Brigitte!” He shrieked, his arousal growing at the sight of his wife bringing her fingers to her lips to suck them clean. 

“I needed to taste us together,” she winked before gathering more liquid on her fingertips. “We’re delicious.” 

She sketched out her arm, offering him a taste of their sweet mixture. He happily accepted, sucking on her finger, his arousal needing release yet again. 

Nothing Brigitte did surprised him anymore, and this wasn’t the first time she had done this (hell, he’d tasted them together countless times, sometimes burying his face between her thighs right after he came). 

“Mmm…” he heard her moan as she thoroughly enjoyed herself. 

He couldn’t believe this dirty, filthy, amazing, perfect, kinky woman belonged to him.

Hellooo Winter!

We asked and Winter just delivered it!! 🔥 🥵 Brigitaaaa was on fire!! Hell, everything was on fire!!

Emmanuel asking if she was okay after finishing hahaha the sweet potato! She was more than fine alright 🤭😂

And now what? How do you keep living without more? 😂

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[rosefinch07]

Brothers in Creation (No, Not That One) crossposted on A03

Damain scowled as he looked at his doll parts.

Why must all his family be jacked as shit?

He lines up the doll bases he was thinking of, digging them out from the bottom of the limb box.

Hexiciah Steam, Dexter Charming, Hunter Huntsman with a Clawd head, Deuce Gorgon with his snakes ripped off, Twyla almost looking unrecognizable as Twyla due to how much he had to tear her apart, Clawdia, Clawdeen, Clawd, and Howleen.

All of them bare of the factory printed faces and of the factory hair rooting.

Last week he had given all of them the appropriate skin tones.

Father, Baba, Jason, Timothy, himself, Barbara, Stephanie, Duke, and Cassandra.

That was an ordeal to color match paints to everyone’s foundation and concealer color.

He beheads them and pulls out a hank of black hair, grabbing what is going to become Father first.

Damian gets his rerooting tool and turns on one of his playlists, getting a few strands and plugging them into the doll head.

He has his concept sketches practically memorized by now. 

Father and Jason with sharp lines, Baba with graceful features, Timothy with a widow’s peak and dark circles, himself with appropriate baby fat (loathe he was to admit it), Barbara with her wheelchair, Stephanie with her chin, Duke with his yarn flocking as a stand-in for his short hair, and Cassandra with her smaller stature comparable to his own.

He gets lost in the rerooting process, bringing each color of hair closer to himself when he needs it.

He finished with Father’s and Baba’s and glued them, and was sticking Jason’s doll head on the rerooting pike by the time he noticed that Timothy was in the doorway.

While Damian had ceased with his attacks upon Timothy’s person, their alliance was still budding at best.

“Do you wish for something?”

“Nah, just wanted to stop by and check on everyone.”

Damian raises an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that Father’s or Alfred’s job?”

“It’s the job of anyone who’s fighting irrationalities.” Tim raised his coffee mug.

“Ah, I hope your brain shuts up soon.”

“Me too, kid, me too.”

He glances at his work so far, making a decision that probably would ease Tim’s mind.

“Would you like to see what I am working on?”

Tim nods, pulling up a chair beside him.

“Dolls?”

“Of us. There is a reason why I asked for swatches of your concealer and foundation.”

He tilts his head.

“Yeah, it was kinda weird you asked that of everyone.”

Damian looks at him out of the corner of his eye, hands steadily plugging in hair.

“What do you know about doll customizing?”

“I know it exists but I normally take pictures of Kon and Bernard’s finished Gundam models.”

He hums, gluing the hair plugs down from the neck hole.

“This is along the same lines of Gundam models, but you don’t have specific instructions or a specific kit that you buy.”

“So, just vibing, a design if you want it, and commit?”

“In simple terms, pretty much.”

Tim looks at the current supplies out, hair hanks and rerooting tools with pastels pushed to the side.

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing us as civilians?”

“Affirmative, I am currently waiting on a few variations of our Bat gear to finish printing before I even think about trying to translate our suits to doll size.”

“Yeah, that sounds like that would take a while for the clothing.”

He picks up Timothy’s doll head and starts rerooting that one.

“I’m currently thinking of doing a Robin line-up with Chelsea dolls next.”

“To really be dwarfed by the nightmare-fuel 15-inch Batman on your shelf?”

“Be glad I didn’t use a Smart Doll as a base for him.”

“Those 25-inch ones? That would’ve been terrifying.”

Damian grinned.

“Indeed.”

Tim watches him as he does his rerooting, just chilling.

“This is like Alfred and his knitting, isn’t it?”

He chuckles.

“Comparable in a way. I have a favor to ask.”

“Normal favor rules apply.”

“As expected. Anyways, would you be up for photographing the completed dolls?”

Tim snorts.

“I would have asked to do that anyways, Damian, you might be good at art but damn do you suck at taking pictures.”

“Astute observation, and is the entire reason I want you to do the pictures.”

“Cool, you can tell me when you are satisfied with them. In the meantime, I can scope out possible locations after hanging out with you.”

Damian pauses in rerooting.

“Is- Is that what this is?”

“Well, yeah, I went from oldest to youngest and wanted to stay.”

He nods.

“That is agreeable Tim.”

[felassan]

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra’s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

[j3ssisam3ss]

Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

 Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

.

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

.

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

.

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

.

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

.

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

.

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

[sochilll]

October 24 - Tattoos

Day 23 Day 25 All Days (Prompt list)

“Are you suuuure you wanna do this?” Jared asked for the millionth time.

“Are you?” Evan shot back. “You’re the one who keeps asking.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Jared said firmly. “I just feel like you should be hyperventilating right now.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I have a pretty high pain tolerance.”

“Not about that. Just about the fact that this is going to be on you permanently forever and ever and if the tattoo artist fucks it up you can’t fix it.”

Evan shot him a look, annoyed Jared knew him so well. “It’s a simple design. I’m sure she’ll be able to handle it.”

Evan’s planned tattoo was simple. Two plant pots side by side, one with a tiny sprout and one with a thriving plant. It was important for him to remember no matter how many bad days he still had, no matter how much he backslid, he’d grown. Was still growing. And the only way to keep growing was to be here.

Jared made fun of him for the plant theme but he shut up when Evan explained it. Jared was getting a dragon. Not a huge, colorful one. A small, simple one. Lines only. On his wrist, the same place as Evan.

They didn’t want to get couple tattoos. That was “gross and way too big of a commitment” in Jared’s words. Evan agreed. Besides, as much as Evan did like Jared, he couldn’t really think of anything about him he wanted tattooed on him. So these were personal tattoos. But they were going together, to hold each other’s hands. And they were getting them in the same place. It was “symbolic or something” Jared had said.

The tattoo artist was a beautiful, ink covered woman in her early sixties. She smiled and invited them back into a room with an adjustable table and a chair.

“You had similar placements right?” She asked, pulling up the sketches she’d made for them.

“Yes. Both on our wrists.”

“Alright.” She waited for their approval on her templates and then patted the table. “Who’s first?”

Evan went first so Jared would stop making ‘are you sure?’ eyes at him.

The tattoo artist asked which wrist and Evan, realizing he hadn’t even considered that, chose his left on a whim.

It didn’t take too long. The tattoo was a small and simple. No coloring or shading. It didn’t hurt too bad either. There were a few moments when she’d go over a spot for a second too long and Evan would tense and squeeze Jared’s hand. But it was bearable.

“Alright.” She wiped his wrist off with a towel. “What do you think?”

Evan looked at his new tattoo. It was exactly the same as the drawing she’d shown him, obviously. But there was something magical about seeing it on his skin.

“I love it.” He said. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She smiled, happy he was satisfied. “Get a picture and then I’ll wrap it for you. Small one like that won’t need too much time but still good to wrap it for a day or so.”

Evan took a picture, got his wrist wrapped, and then it was Jared’s turn.

“Which wrist for you?”

Jared looked at Evan and smiled slightly. “Right.”

Jared, as it turned out, had a much lower pain tolerance than Evan. He crushed Evan’s fingers and murmured a constant thread of curse words.

“Let it out.” The tattoo artist said. “Tell me if you need a break.”

“I’m good.” Jared said through gritted teeth. “Unless we’re not close to being done.”

“We’re close.” She promised.

Once they were finished, Evan offered to buy Jared lunch for being “sooooo brave.”

“I resent that but I will allow you to buy me lunch.” Jared said.

“Why did you pick your right hand?” Evan asked as they walked to a fast food place a few stores down. “I picked randomly but it seemed like you had a reason.”

Jared smiled. He walked around to Evan’s other side and laced their fingers together. Their tattoos touched through two layers of gauze and tape.

“My dragon can eat your plants.” He said.

Evan laughed. “You’re dumb.”

“How do you feel now that you’re, mmmm, twenty-five percent cooler?”

“How’d you get that number?” Evan asked, swinging their hands.

“Numerous complex calculations that I don’t have time to explain to you.” Jared waved him off.

“Of course.” Evan rolled his eyes, smiling. “I feel great. How do you feel being twenty-five percent cooler?”

“Oh no. I started at a much higher coolness level than you so this has less of an overall impact on my coolness level.”

“Oh right sure.” Evan snorted. “So what’s your percentage then?”

“My tattoo makes me…” Jared paused, doing some imaginary math in the air. “Ten percent cooler.”

“What’s your dragon’s name?”

“Oh!” Jared turned to him. “Excellent question. I’ll have to think on it. Suggestions?”

“Wilfred.” Evan said, pulling the restaurant door open and holding it for Jared.

“Hmm. A little formal.”

“You could call him Willy for short. Or Fred.”

“Mmm. I like it. Diverse.” Jared nodded. “Wilfred it is.” He gestured to the counter. “Now buy me a milkshake.”