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#but i want to draw the three of them together...!!! i think that would b so fun. i want to make more drows too hehe
swordmaid · 5 months
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my drow collection grows and i am also treating this game like a dress up game so here's felynzzyn - seldarine selunite cleric
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and sol - former lolth sworn drow who was a slave mage but he escaped the underdark and now lives in the surface...!
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meanbossart · 7 months
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Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)
As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.
Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )
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I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:
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I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.
Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:
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Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.
Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.
So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:
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Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:
posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.
In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!
While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).
Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.
Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)
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Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:
"Can I trace this junk?"
And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.
However,
If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.
Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".
So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.
Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.
A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.
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world-of-aus · 2 months
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The Arrangement - Chapter 4
Pairing:Mobboss!bucky x Reader
Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue
Authors Note: I apologize immensely for the delay but my mental health has absolutely tanked in the last three weeks. I have fought enough to feel a semblance of normal and was able to put this chapter together. I hope you all enjoy, and look forward to the groveling and ass kissing our guys gonna do. Love, and many thanks, happy reading. 🤍
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Bucky thinks he finally understands vividly the phrase ‘so close, yet so far’.
The two of you have been married a little over a week and it’s as if nothing has changed, he still barely see’s you despite the two of you living in the same house. You’re asleep when he arrives, and you’re gone when he wakes, and despite his best efforts, you’ve managed to avoid him at every turn.
He knows there is no excuse you could give him, no longer any reason for you to still be actively avoiding him the way you have. And while he’d give just about anything to have you at least talk to him about what troubles you, to enjoy his presence the way you had the night of your wedding, he doesn’t want to push when your discomfort is so obvious.
So he gives you time.
The first two days he gave you all the space you could have possibly wanted making himself scarce, but as the third came and went as did the days that followed, he found his patience running quite thin, an underlying hurt brewing deep within his chest.
Your close friends had all but advised against his plan to confront you.
‘She just needs time pal, she’s working through a lot of emotions, don't get a hot head because she’s coping in the only way she’s known, let her come to you when she’s ready.’
‘Listen, I’d avoid you too if I had to marry an ugly mug like yours.’
‘She’s conflicted B, she’s had her happiness ripped from her before, she’s been placed in uncomfortable situations without having anyone check up on her well-being, she’s putting herself first for the first time in a very long time. Don’t mess this up, because she won’t be the only one you lose this time around.’
He had taken their words to heart, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He just wanted to talk to you, to feel a sense of normalcy in your shared marriage, he wanted you to be happy, genuinely happy. Bucky wanted you to want to be in this marriage not because it was asked of the two of you but because it was something you genuinely wanted. He knew it was a lot to ask of you, but he would do so anyway.
Or at least he was going to try.
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You're finalizing emails to meet with the other heads sometime this week when a knock stills your fingers on the keys and draws your gaze from the screen. You call out for them to enter, you weren’t sure who you were expecting but you hadn’t been expecting him. You only barely manage to conceal your shock.
“Bucky, what are you doing here?” You question unable to help the way your eyes flicker to the time on your desktop, you were certain you had mastered the times you arrived home. Your eyes flicker back to his, “I was just about to make my way to the house I would have met you there.” You lie.
He offers you a smile that barely meets his eyes as he closes the door behind him, your heart races in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you. You watch as he rounds your desk, he stops to lean against it, his eyes taking you in.
“Is everything okay?” you worry somethings happen, with his sudden appearance.
“I don’t know y/n, is everything okay?” he questions in return.
“Well yes,” you answer, “I was just -” He stops you mid statement, he doesn’t want another lie from you.
“Don’t,” he shakes his head, “don’t do that sweetheart, don’t hide behind another lie, we both know you’ve been actively avoiding me since our first night home after our wedding, and you’ve been doing so since we signed that contract Monday, and somehow that feels worse than when you would cancel on me when I was with your sister, at least then I wasn’t catching on to the lies you made to get out of it.” Your eyes shut on a shaky exhale, “Talk to me,” he pleads, worried you’ll continue to shut him out, “tell me what I can do to make this right. This isn’t what I want for our marriage I don’t want -”
Your eyes snap open, “and you think this is what I want, you think this is how I wanted our marriage to go?” you question looking up at him in disbelief. “There may have been a time where I envisioned vividly what our marriage would be like but – I,” you shake your head unable to speak on that night right now. “I don’t know how to do this,” you continue, “I’m not even sure how to feel because before all of this,” you gesture between you, “I was certain with all finality that you’d be nothing more than someone I called a friend, my brother in law, my sisters husband and I was finally coming to terms with that, I was finally starting to feel okay with it. But just like that night I’ve had the rug ripped out from right under me yet again and I’m scared Bucky! I’m scared that it’ll happen again, that I will get too close, get too comfortable – fall in love – and with a snap of a finger it’ll all be taken away. I can’t go through that again.”
I don’t think I’d survive a second time.
“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he knows he’s pleading again, but he wants to do right by you, he wants to right his wrongs. “You’re my wife now y/n your happiness is above anyone else’s, I made vows to you that evening, vows I intend to keep. Please tell me how to fix this.”
The tone of his voice almost breaks you, has your resolve crumbling.
“That’s just the thing B, I don’t know.” You answer truthfully. “How do I come out from behind her shadow if everywhere I look it reminds me of her, of everything she had, everything she took from me that should have been mine. I can’t even look at you without being reminded -” you shake your head looking away from his cerulean blues as you press your fingers into your eyes willing away the sting of tears.
You feel your chair being pulled to where he knows kneels before you, gentle hands prying your from your face. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, “y/n, sweetheart look at me,” he murmurs, “please.”
Your eyes slip open, to find his waiting gaze, “you are my wife. And ill be damned if you feel anything but. Please give me the chance to give you the marriage you deserve the one you are worthy of, I know you don’t want too, and maybe I shouldn’t ask, but let me try, let me try to be the man that is worthy of you.”
He can see the hesitation in your gaze as you look down at your intertwined hands, “what if she comes back? Decides she wants you back.”
He runs his thumb along your wedding band drawing both your gazes there. “I made a promise to you, I recited my vows to you,” your gazes find one another, “I am faithful to you. My wife.”
“But what if -” he chuckles shaking his head, “There are not what ifs, I’m. Yours.” He’s squeezing your hands in his, “give me a chance, give us a chance, let’s try.”
Your hearts beating like a wild drum in your chest, “Okay. Let’s try.”
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Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1
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RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.
(Y/N) - Your name.
NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!
Word count: 2.5k
Part 2
Masterlist
October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.
That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.
You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).
One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.
“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.
“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”
“Please!”
Stab.
“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”
Stab.
“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”
The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.
“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.
“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.
“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.
“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.
For now.
Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.
“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”
How fucking dare he.
How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.
For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.
He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?
They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.
Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”
Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.
“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.
“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.
“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.
Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.
Something was off.
Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.
Your phone started to ring.
Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
No answer.
You left out a huff and tried again.
“Hellooo?”
When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.
“I think you got the wrong numb-“
“Wanna play a game?”
“I’m-I’m sorry?”
“I said, wanna play a game?”
“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”
“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.
“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.
“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”
Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.
“Warmer.”
Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.
“Colder.”
You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.
“Hotter.”
You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.
“Hotter.”
You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.
“You're on fucking fire baby.”
Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.
“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.
You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.
“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.
“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.
You black out.
“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.
“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 years
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Oh, Baby
Dad!Jake Seresin x female reader
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Summary: You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake's heart. Now, a year later, you've returned and you're not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. 
Warnings/notes: its mostly fluffy. cursing, i think. mention of pregnancy. that might be it. 
Words: 2900
Oh, Baby Masterlist / Masterlist
His Girls (Following Part)
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Staring is rude; that’s what his mama told him. That, and a handful of other little rules that didn’t fit the bill of ‘gentleman.' But he couldn’t recall a single one of them now. His mind was occupied and nothing else mattered. Maybe nothing else ever would. So he let himself stare.
You smiled and the air got trapped in his lungs for a moment before it decided to fight for freedom by way of harsh, sharp bursts. If his coughing drew the attention of others, he didn’t notice. It didn’t draw yours, and that was for the best. He needed another second to breathe; to watch your face light up under the influence of the infant in your arms. 
Two months old, that’s what Rooster had told him. 
You’d left town one night, leaving no note, no means of contact except through your parents who texted Rooster every once in a while to let him know you were Ok, but never to tell him where you were. Maybe they didn’t know either. Then, according to Rooster, you showed up at his door with a bag, a smile of apology, and a two-month-old baby cradled in a wrap around your chest. 
Jake didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know how to process what you’d brought with you, or why you went to Rooster instead of him. Maybe one more thing that didn’t matter at the end of the day. As it was, everything in front of him was too much to handle. 
“I don’t want to overstep,” Rooster said through the phone. His call had woken Jake, but the anxiety in Rooster’s tone cleared any grogginess faster than a cup of coffee. “Did you and Y/N ever…?”
Jake swallowed and sat up a little straighter in bed, running a hand down his face. Everyone had guessed there had been something going on between you and him. Everyone assumed that even if there wasn’t, if they were wrong, eventually the two of you would get there. You’d figure it out because it seemed inevitable. Jake had always hoped they were right. He’d pined for painfully long, and while it seemed like you felt something for him too, he wasn’t going to move until you did. And then you did. 
It was simple, really. He thought there would be something more complex to the two of you finding your way into bed together, but it was so easy. So natural. Simple and easy and natural enough for you to seek him out three more times before you disappeared from his life, breaking a part of him as you did. 
“Why do you ask?” Jake said. 
“Um—fuck.” It was a soft curse from his friend’s mouth, just barely detectable through the speaker. But it carried a heavy weight with it that Rooster’s voice alone did not. “Are you sitting down?”
“Yea.”
“Good.”
The seconds passing were nearly as painful as the day you left—that moment he realized you were no longer in his bed. He’d called everyone. No one had an answer for him. “Rooster, what the fuck is going on?”
He sighed, which was never good. Rooster wasn’t much of the sighing type. Sighing meant thinking. And he wasn’t much of the thinking type anymore, either. Hadn’t been since Mav had knocked that behavior out of him while he was in the air. That new mentality just so happened to carry into the rest of his life, and he lived in a world of impulsivity. Don’t think, just do. It was the exact same with his words. Rooster only ever spoke his mind, didn’t hold back, didn’t hesitate, and yet now he was.
“She’s back, Jake," he finally said. "Showed up last night.”
His heart stopped beating. He felt it seize in his chest. And then it began again, starting with incredible force and livening his entire body. 
“But, um…that’s not all,” Rooster continued. “She’s got a baby with her, and—” His breath was shaky, matching Jake’s hands. “Alright, I’m just going to say it—the kid looks exactly like you, Seresin. Spitting fucking image. Now, if you two never got together then I’ll chalk it up to a wild coincidence, but if you did…” He paused. “If you did, I think you need to get over here.”
Jake had never run so fast in his life, never driven so recklessly, never stormed through the front door of someone’s home the way he did Rooster’s, but how could he not? 
“Where is she?”
Rooster shot to his feet from his spot on the couch. “At the store. She took the kid with her. We should probably wait—”
“The one down the street?”
“Yea, but—what are you doing?”
He was already at the door, the knob squeezed viciously in his grip. “I have to see for myself,” Jake said. “I won’t ambush her. I’ll keep my distance, but I have to see.”
And he saw…everything. The woman he loved, casually walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, looking at labels and deciding on brands and placing things in a cart, with his baby strapped to her chest. 
And that was his baby. He knew the moment he saw the eyes that were his, just smaller and on a face full of features that were also his, save for the curve of the lips that belonged entirely to you. Had his mother been by his side, she might’ve stumbled back from how similar this baby looked to her own. He would have too had his feet not been stuck to the floor. 
Every bit of him was holding back from reaching for you as his instincts demanded of him, but he had to move before you saw him. You could turn your head at any moment. So he had to go. 
—--
“When did you even…I mean, everyone always figured you would…but…when?”
Jake lifted his head from where it was resting over the back of the couch. “About a month before she left. A few times.”
Rooster nodded. “She’ll be back soon. Are you sure you want to do this now?”
“I–”
As if on cue, the front door opened and you stepped through with a bag of groceries in each hand, one of which fell when your eyes met Jake’s. Little jars rolled across the floor, making the only sound in the otherwise dead silence of the room. His lips parted, but nothing could slip out of them, nothing that would make reasonable sense, anyway. His mind was too much of a jumbled mess.
The baby broke the tension, its little wiggle causing you to glance down at the tiny head resting against your chest. You set the other bag down and took an immediate turn to the left through another door that Jake knew led to Rooster’s guest room. You returned a moment later, without the baby, your arms crossed in front of you as you walked toward him. 
He thought he would be mad; maybe betrayed; at the very least bitter and devastated, but all he wanted was to pull you to him and hold you and kiss you and thank whatever deity necessary for returning you to him. 
“You couldn’t have kept it to yourself for a little?”
He didn’t know what you meant until he realized you were looking directly at Rooster. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rooster replied. He nudged his head Jake’s way. “He was a fucking mess when you left, and it’s so obvious that the kid is—” He paused when your eyes fell to the wooden flooring. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you two some space.”
Jake waited until his friend was gone before he dared to take a step your way, but he stopped short at the hand you held up. 
“Y/N…”
“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said. “I’m not going to get into why I did what I did other than to say that I thought it was best for you, me, and her.” Your arms fully uncrossed and one hand began to pick at the other’s fingernail. “At the time, anyway.”
“She’s mine.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it. He knew it in his soul that the little girl in the next room belonged to him as much as she did you. But still, he needed to hear you say it; needed to watch the shape of your lips form the words. 
You nodded. “She’s yours.”
“And were you going to tell me?”
“I came back to tell you,” you said without a lick of hesitation in your voice; something that made him feel a bit lighter. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it yet, but I didn’t want her to wake up one day and start asking me fair questions that I only had unfair answers to. I couldn’t imagine telling her that her father had no idea she existed. So,” you took a deep breath, “I figured I’d see if you might want her, too.”
If. He could’ve laughed under different circumstances. If he wanted his daughter? There was nothing to mull over or consider. Of course, he wanted his daughter. Her and you, if you’d have him. But he couldn’t press that now. 
“What’s her name?”
“My family calls her Evy, but it’s Eve.”
“After my grandmother?”
“She was always nice to me when she would come to town, and I know you love her.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, but he knew there was nothing nonchalant about it. It was a deliberate choice, a careful choice. You could’ve named her anything under the sun. You could’ve named her after your own family, but you didn’t. “I wanted our daughter to have something of you other than just your DNA.”
The weight was back. A heaviness in the air from the beauty of what you’d just confessed mixed with the undeniable question of What now? He wasn’t going to push you. You were in complete control, always had been. Control over him, over what happened between you, over the future he had once hoped you may share—the future he thought was lost, but maybe could now be found. 
“Do you want to see her?”
His eyes widened, a confusing emotion filling his heart. He wasn’t sure you would offer, and giving him that chance swelled the love he felt for you. But more than that, adding to the confusing feeling was the hopeful note in your tone. Did you imagine he might deny you? Did you think he’d turn his child away?
“Yes,” he said with absolute surety, and by the grin you gave in return, he knew you felt his sincerity. 
You turned, leading him into the room he’d spent a drunk night or two in. A room in which he’d woken up insanely hungover and begging for the sun to die just to give him some relief. The irony. He silently snickered. You moved aside, facing him as he took in the sight before him. 
Your baby—his baby—laid on her back in the small travel crib, her eyes closed and body wrapped up snuggly in one of those sleep wraps he saw his sister use on her son. Her delicate face was so peaceful. Her long lashes rested on plump, rosy cheeks. Her lips were parted the slightest, the sweetest breaths making the softest of sounds. Her dusting of blond hair reflected the slim ray of sunlight sneaking through the drawn curtains turning the strands into pure gold.
Unshed tears stung the corners of his eyes. 
“You can hold her if you want.”
“She’s—she’s asleep. I can’t—”
“She’s a heavy sleeper,” you said. “Honestly, the best baby, Jake.”
Of course, she is, he thought. If she was anything like you, she’d be perfect. She was already perfect. 
Reaching into the crib, you carefully grabbed the baby and held her out to Jake. He’d held a baby before, plenty of times, but something about holding his own…he couldn’t describe it fully, just that it made his nerves fire off. His fingers began to twitch, but when he looked at you, he saw the familiar glassiness coating your irises and you nodded in encouragement. 
That was all he needed: the mother of his baby asking him to hold their daughter. So he did, extending his arms and gratefully accepting his little gift. 
She was so small. His hands and arms and chest dwarfed her compared to how she looked against your body. Up close, she was porcelain in form, fragile and light, and he would surrender his every breathing moment to protect what you and he had made. 
A soft sob echoed in his ear and Jake’s head shot up to see those tears had fallen, crafting rivers down your cheeks as your hand covered your mouth. 
“I’m sorry.” The apology was muffled through your fingers. You shook your head and finally dropped your hand. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think—I didn’t think I would ever see this.”
With the hand not cradling his child, Jake cupped your cheek, smoothing your tears back into your skin with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and he suppressed a gasp. The first time in a year that he’d felt you, and it was like coming home. He’d missed everything about you, every ounce of your being and presence. He missed your scent filling the air: the vanilla perfume, the fruity shampoo, the minty chapstick that he’d pick up right when he was about to kiss you. All of it. Everything. And now you were here, and he wouldn’t be able to let go.
“Why did you leave me?” he whispered. 
“We had only slept together a few times,” you sniffled. “Doctor said I got pregnant that first time. Good on us for using a condom, right?”
He chuckled half-heartedly. Neither of you had one on you that night, and foolishly, neither of you cared. Pent-up desperation took over, and being inside of you, feeling you, became his sole need. Nothing short of you shoving him away could have stopped him. 
“Anyway, this wasn’t in your plans,” you said. “And I didn’t want to force it on you, but I also didn’t want to give her up. It scared me, so…”
“I would’ve helped you. I loved you. I’d been in love with you. I would’ve—”
“You loved me?”
Oh. He hadn’t planned on saying it. Certainly not now. Before you left, he’d hoped you already knew somehow. Then you were gone and he was sure the opportunity to tell you would never be within reach again. But, intentionally or not, you just presented him with a moment for the words to fall right out of his mouth, so they did. 
“Well…yea,” he said. “You could’ve told me you wanted a baby and I would’ve given you one.”
Your eyes shifted from his and you stared into the blank space next to his head, like your brain had short-circuited and your whole world was flashing before your eyes. You took a wobbly step back and dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress. Jake gave another long look at his daughter before kissing her forehead and placing her back in the crib. 
Kneeling in front of you, he said, “I still love you.” When you didn’t speak, he grasped your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I love you, and I already love our daughter. And I want you to stay. I need you to stay with me.”
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Only you had that effect on him and he couldn’t say that he didn’t once hate it. It drove him insane for ages. He would simply think about you and the beating would start. That thumping would keep him awake at night, distract him at work, drown out the voices of his coworkers, but he accepted it now. It was an indicator of what he felt for you and that was too real and honest and beautiful to be bothered by. 
Finally, your fingers squeezed his back. A sign, small as it was, that you were understanding. 
“Look at me,” he whispered, and you did. He smiled as he peeled his fingers away from yours to frame your face between his hands. His thumbs ran along your cheekbones, then he leaned in a little closer. “Come here.” Another whisper, a bit broken on the final syllable. 
You didn’t protest when he pulled your face to his. You didn’t push him back when hot breaths caressed each other's mouths. Your fingers loosely fisted the collar of his shirt and you let his lips brush over yours in a gentle kiss.
And that was it. You were it. You had always been it for him. He knew it then, and he knew it now. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. 
He pulled back a few inches to grant you some space, but your mouth chased after his, your hands sliding into his hair and holding him so you could force your lips together again. Harder, hotter, more desperate. You’d missed him, too. It was undeniable now. 
“Promise me, honey,” He said when you separated to breathe. "I can't lose you. Not again."
“I promise, Jake.” Your eyelids fell closed and you rested your forehead against his. “We’re not leaving you.”
------
tags: @thespeeder @nobody7102 @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @teacupsandtopgun @himbos-on-ice @xoxabs88xox​ @happypopcornprincess​ @violyn20​ @jordanturpen​ @buckymcu12​ @jerseybagel @nagygreta​ @rintheemolion​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @oliviah-25​ @talkfastromance4​ @ysl-bby​ @chibijusstuff​ @kmsryles343​ @sometimesicryintheshower​ @cookielovesbook-akie​ @yanna-banana​ @taylahk109​ @buxkybarnez​ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ @ravenhood2792​ @potato-girl99981​ @eccentricnos​ @kembry107​ @pono-pura-vida​ @topguncultleader​ @v0id-chaos​ @scrappybear89​ @stiles-banshees​ @audri_janis @caidi-paris @jake-seresins-girl @sass-masterkittenmama​
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letsbangchanblog · 3 months
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NSFW ABCs for KEEHO
Mature content: 18+ post! Minors, do not enter!!
Summary: NSFW ABCs
Idol: KEEHO from p1harmony
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Keeho is really sweet after sex. I think he is rather vanilla and slightly traditional (even if some think otherwise). This means he is blessed to even be having sex. He thinks it's such an intimate thing for you guys to experience together. It makes him really emotional. This is why he wants to make sure you are cared for afterwards. He would draw you a bath and clean the sheets kind of guy. He wants you to feel how grateful he is for you trusting him enough; it doesn't matter how often you have sex. He is making sure you know.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He has said it before, it's his eyes. He loves expressing himself with them as well. He likes to think he has “love you” eyes during sex.
He loves your thighs. He thinks they are so soft, thick, and comfy. He had no idea he was going to love living between them until you asked so nicely.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He cums ALOT, but not often. This might be why honestly. He loves having sex with you but you guys usually only engage in foreplay. You guys live for days edging each other. He thinks it's more meaningful this way.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He is secretly into being tied up and light BDSM, but he is sooo shy about it. He thinks you will hate it but you would really love it. He is slowly going to learn that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He did have sex before but he wants sex more than ever before; it makes him think that you were made for him (soulmates).
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary because you guys can hold hands. He loves any position that includes this. If you are on top, he would die if you hold his hands while having them behind his head. He will cum in three seconds.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I don't think he would even mean it but yes. He would just naturally be funny. He ends up loving the way you laugh during sex sometimes. It warms his heart.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Very dark and trimmed. He will not go bare or full bush. He refuses. He would never control your grooming so don't control his grooming.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He NEEDS it to be romantic even when you start exploring non vanilla sex or he would stop.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I think he masturbates every once in a while but would never tell you. He is thinking about you and he is worried you would think he is perverted. BUT YOU WANT THIS (again he will learn over time).
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think he wants to fuck you in a car so badly. He doesn't think it's actually possible so he won't ask but he has jacked off to the thought.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Bed most of the time. You guys will foreplay anywhere but he won't put his dick in you without it being in the bedroom (until he learned the fun of it in the shower)
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Your love. He gets horny from loving you so much. Its hardly sexual when he wants to fuck you; he wants to show you his love.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He will not slap your face only your ass but he is even shy about that. He acts so much more confident than he actually is. He would never want you to have the chance of mistaking his actions.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
LOVES HIS DICK SUCKED but he never asks for it. He is so lucky you just love doing it. You guys have oral sex more than regular sex.
He loves eating you out so your thighs will squeeze his head and your moans.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Very slow but rough thrusts. He will go fast here and there but most of the time it's slow and deliberate (his love is shown with it)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
No, but you guys can feel each other up.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Not willing to try until you slowly start asking him to explore. You have to slowly approach things though or you'll lose him. If he doesn't think he can show his love with it, he won't do it; however, if you ask slowly, he will think giving in (he secretly wants it) shows his love.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He doesn't last very long but will go multiple rounds. It's all about making love and will keep going cause it's not as often as messing around.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Slowly ask.. but know if you ask him to use a vibrator so you can come on his dick… HE will learn to use his hands really well. HE HAS TO DO IT CAUSE HE LOVES YOU NOT A MACHINE.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Gives in… would never want to deny you but fails to remember he will play with your ass and tits then run away..
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Moans and whimpers at a medium volume but will do it in your ear. You guys are making love and he wants you to hear how much he loves it.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Loves you in lingerie or dressing up. He thinks it's so nasty and freaky (but it's kinda basic).
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Huge boyfriend dick and he has no idea. He was made to be the perfect boyfriend.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
It's higher than he wants to admit. He thinks he is too horny but he is actually average.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He is too giggly most of the time. He is just so happy, he can't rest.
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dailyadventureprompts · 7 months
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Tableskills: Making a Game of It
Recently I learned a bit of an unspoken truth that I'd brushed up against in my many years of being a dungeonmaster that I'd never seen put into words before: If you want to liven up whatever's going on in your adventure, figure out a way to engage the players in some kind of game. It's simultaneously the best way to provide a roadblock while making your player's victories feel earned.
This might seem redundant, since you're already playing d&d but give a moment of thought to exactly what portions of d&d are gamified. Once you learn your way around the system, it becomes apparent that D&D really only has three modes of play:
Pure roleplay/storytelling, driven by whatever feels best for the narrative. Which is not technically a game, nor should it (IMO) be gamified.
Tactical combat with a robust rules system, the most gamelike aspect.
A mostly light weight skills based system for overcoming challenges that sits between the two in terms of complexity.
The problem is that there's quite a lot of things that happen in d&d that don't fall neatly into these three systems, the best example being exploration which was supposed to be a "pillar" of gameplay but somehow got lost along the way . This is a glaring omission given how much of the core fantasy of the game (not to mention fantasy in general) is the thrill of discovery, contrasted with the rigours of travelling to/through wondrous locations. How empty is it to have your party play out the fantasy of being on a magical odyssey or delving the unknown when you end up handwaving any actual travel because base d&d doesn't provide a satisfying framework for going from A to B besides skillchecks and random encounters (shameless plug for my own exploration system and the dungeon design framework that goes with it).
The secret sauce that's made d&d and other ttrpgs so enduring is how they fuse the dramatic conventions of storytelling with the dynamics of play. The combat system gives weight and risk to those epic confrontations, and because the players can both get good at combat and are at risk of losing it lets them engage with the moment to moment action far more than pure narration or a single skill roll ever could.
I'm not saying that we need to go as in depth as combat for every gamified narrative beat (the more light weight the better IMO) but having a toolbox full of minigames we can draw upon gives us something to fall back on when we're doing our prep, or when we need to improvise. I've found having this arsenal at hand as imortant as my ability to make memorable NPCs on the fly or rework vital plothooks the party would otherwise miss.
What I'd encourage you as a DM to do is to start building a list of light weight setups/minigames for situations you often find yourself encountering: chase scenes, drinking contests, fair games, anything you think would be useful. Either make them yourself or source them from somewhere on the web, pack your DM binder full of them as needed. While not all players are utterly thrilled by combat, everyone likes having some structured game time thrown in there along with the freeform storytelling and jokes about how that one NPC's name sounds like a sex act.
A quick minigame is likewise a great way to give structure to a session when your party ends up taking a shortcut around your prepared material. Oh they didn't take that monster hunter contract in the sewers and instead want to follow up on rumours about a local caravan? The wagon hands are playing a marble game while their boss negotiates with some local mercahnts, offering to let the party play while they wait. The heroes want to sail out to the island dungeon you don't have prepped yet? Well it looks like the navigator has gone on a bit of a bender, and the party not only need to track them down but also piece together where they left the charts from their drunken remembrances as a form of a logic puzzle.
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ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)
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*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*
Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader
POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller
Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.
Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME
WC: 4.5k
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On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.
It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.
We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.
As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.
"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."
Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."
Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.
The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.
Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"
As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.
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On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.
"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.
"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.
"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.
She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"
As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.
The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.
"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.
She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"
"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.
"So, this is where you live?"
She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."
She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.
"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 
The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 
"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 
She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."
The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.
"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.
"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.
"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.
"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.
"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.
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Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.
now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.
"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.
"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.
As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.
"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.
"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."
"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.
Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."
As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.
"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.
As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.
"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.
"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.
But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?
"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."
As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.
"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.
"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.
"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”
“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.
I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.
The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.
The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.
We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.
"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.
"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.
"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.
"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.
As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.
Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."
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artsyjedi · 2 years
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Life on its form
Any driver x fem!ooc (only mentioned as she)
WARNINGS: driver dies, there are references to depression (mentions of giving up). HEAVILY ANGST - if you find something else, let me know.
Also there's probably some grammar mistakes here and there.
A/N: it's the saddest thing i've written in a year but I couldn't waste the idea. Hope you enjoy :)
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From books to movies, love seems to be this enormous thing that works like missing pieces from a puzzle.
Love is supposed to fulfill the empty spaces.
And is very common to hear people say: “It takes effort, and sometimes it’s tiring. But it’s worth it.”
So, during every single relationship, she tried. She tried her best to make it work – because that’s what it takes, right? To some she was loud, to others she was more of an introverted. Fun but not funny, you know? At one point, to one of her partners, she was just enough. She never got too angry or too sad or too happy.
Her partner loved when their friends talked about her. About how good she was, how they wished their own partners were like that. She never complained when he went out with his buddies, wasn't jealous when he got too close to another woman. She was a good girl. His good girl.
It was tiring. But… love requires that. You need to give to receive. And they were good. They were also enough to her. Even when they got mad, like mad-mad, everything was just fine.
For four whole months, they had planned this trip to enjoy the always so beautiful and fun European summer. When the day arrived, they simply said she should go alone, that they weren't on the mood and would be a terrible company. And, on top of all that, they said:
"You should go alone, make friends. It's gonna be good for you. For us, you know? To be apart."
Great. She thought. That clearly meant the relationship wasn't on its best moment. Ups and downs (even though it was more downs than ups). That’s what relationships are made of. No need to think any deeper.
So was right there, on that small country on the northen coast of the Mediterranean Sea, that she learned that love is actually simple and effortless. It comes, stays and requires nothing.
He taught her that. All he wanted from her was sweet nothing.
What was supposed to be a four week trip, became two months. And then three. Between somewhere here and there, she texted her now ex to let them know she wasn't coming back.
All her friends and family thought she had lost it. Who ends a three years relationship because of some random person they just met? They truly thought she had gone mad (to which she responded: yes! Madly in love!).
Was after a great night where they lived, laughed and loved, that he told her he was a Formula 1 driver. She imediatly wanted to cry. Not because of fear of everything being too much, or because he started to ramble about his plans with his ever so excited smile.
She cried because, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. It didn't matter what would happen, if he was famous, if she would need to deal with all types of people.
He had her. She had him. Nothing else mattered.
When they had to leave the little world they had created during those months and go back to reality, all they felt was deep and raw love.
And then the months became a year. Then a year and a half. And then two years. And then they were living together. What started with a small space on his drawer, became a full section on his closet.
When routine started to catch up, during times where her work demanded more and so did his, with more and more races being add to the calendar, they decided to create a sort of system. Something silly. Something them.
They downloaded some apps for couples, so when they couldn't be together, they could still do things together. Their favourite was one where they could draw. Also, at the end of each day, they would write down to each other those detailed text messages talking about all things.
He also started to leave notes on the pockets of her clothing before leaving. Sometimes he would write poetry, something to make her laugh, or some sort of reminder of how much he loved her. He also loved to leave things with the notes: small gifts, from jewelry to chocolate.
No matter what happened, she knew it would always have something.
But it’s been three months since his accident. Three months she hadn’t found a note, the drawing app widget is nothing more than a white empty board and there is no more detailed messages.
She hadn’t attended the race that weekend, having too much work to do. They did made plans for going to this fancy restaurant he always wanted to try, though. Such a shame they never made it.
Would be a lie to say she remembers much from the days after the news. Actually, she barely remember the day itself. She knows she was the first to get to the hospital, that she was the one to call the family (both hers and his), and then talk with the team.
Some said they were sorry, some tried to find something to blame trying hard to sooth the situation.
But that was life on its form.
Even if it had someone or something to blame, what difference would make? He wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t hear his laugh anymore, or his tantrums, or his rambling. She would never see again the way he used to lean against every surface he could, or how bad he was at hiding his emotions.
She would never touch him again.
And grief it’s different to every person. There’s no right or wrong way to feel it – as her therapist said. People feel what they feel when they feel and there's nothing you can do to change that.
She accepted easily, better than she thought she would, at least. She did got depressed on the first days, of course, but she kept on going. Always foward.
For first week of her work vacation, she went to her family house. No one dared to say anything. She was laughing, going out with old friends - what was surprising, considering they were sure she would give up.
But that's something she could never do.
She does have something to live for. The memories of every single moment they had together, good or bad, are worth living for.
Now it's been two days since she came back. The apartment is so quiet she allows herself to wonder why she didn't cried yet. From the balcony, she sees the sun making its way towards the line where the sky mets the sea. In a few minutes, it'll also be gone.
She smiles. Once, her therapist asked her "in one word, and just one, describe your love and why"
She answered that their love was just like the ocean. Not because it's unstable or deep, as some people say. She chose the ocean because it's endless and most likely, it won't ever go away. Now thinking better, she should've had chosen waves instead of ocean: always moving, always coming and going but never dissipating completely.
And that’s what their love is: something that will never just go. Now, some days she feels more, some days she feels less. But it’s there.
With this thought, she decides to change her clothes and do something she's been doing her best to avoid: to wear the last cardigan he bought. It was during that week, it came inside of a beautiful box and he had smiled saying, "i have great plans for this one".
Making her way to the small beach in front of their building, she takes a deep breath and fels that stupid feeling again. The one that puts her on the edge of something that never comes no matter how hard she tries. As if there's something waiting right around the corner.
The sky is now a mix of purple, pink and orange. It's beautiful. The wind becomes cold while she just stands there, feeling the sand wrap her feet. The waves crash, coming and going and then coming again.
It's when a bird flies too close to her that she puts her hands on both pockets. A reflex. Something so normal but that means a lot, specially when she feels one of her hands brush against something.
And there it is. She finally went over the edge, finally saw what is around the corner. Her eyes gets watery, she can feel tears falling down her cheeks and sees the wet dots being created on the sand. She laughs. Suddenly life is less heavy.
Her body almost gives in, but she manages to sit properly. With another deep breath, she sees what he left for her.
Two years ago, during a race week on the US, they managed to scape go to Santa Monica. He insisted on going to the photo booth and she hated every single one of the pictures. He told her to chose one to keep, the others could go.
And he carried that one with him everywhere. Either on his wallet or inside of his helmet.
And now the picture is on her hand, wrapped in a small paper. She's sure it was already there when he gave it to her, and when he kissed her goodbye for the last time.
On his crap handwriting, was written: a memory for you to keep until I come back.
Seing the sun finally disappear and the moon rise on the other side, she reliases she created another memory for her to keep on living for.
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nebulaaaeee · 3 months
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“ Why SatoSugu Might be Canon ”
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nebulanalysis
i was bored, so i thought.. why not point out stuff that might relate to SatoSugu being canon?
credits to Jallomoth on YouTube for most of the information in this post :)
check his YouTube video about satosugu here
let’s start, shall we?
WARNINGS:
manga spoilers , satosugu as its own warning
REMINDERS:
manga spoilers
satosugu
only an assumption
i do not want to argue, made for fun
most of the information by Jallomoth on YouTube
__
satosugu, a very tragic ship if i ever saw one.
the ship consists of two ‘bestfriends’.
satoru gojo and suguru geto.
let’s start with our first piece of evidence..
AO NO SUMIKA’S LYRICS ☆
now, if you hadn’t known already, ao no sumika interprets or resembles gojo and geto’s relationship.
let us look at some suspicious.. lyrics.
“it’s like a quiet love”
or
静かな恋のような (in kanji)
now, some people might say:
“platonic love exists!”
“what if he means platonic love?”
well,
that can’t be right.. let us look at japanese culture, and the kanji used for love.
since, in the west, we really only have one word to describe love. which is.. love.
but..
not for japan!
恋 - this kanji right here is prounounced; koi.
and.. koi is only used when referring to romantic or passionate love.
here’s an image for ya.
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believe me? .....no? well, you’re free to do your own research!
here’s another ao no sumika lyric that has something to do with romance!
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“even if i’ve come to know your scent, diffferent from mine, in the depths of eternity left behind”
knowing or remembering someone’s scent is considered romantic in most cultures!
since, if you were to write a song about a bestfriend,
you wouldn’t write a lyric that contains stuff about knowing their scent, right?
that would seem weird, if you only love them platonically.
next..
DECEMBER 24TH (manga spoilers ahead, skip if needed.)
suguru geto died on december 24th, most of us know that.
satoru gojo died on december 24th, some of us know that.
now, okay, dying on the same day is.. kind of romantic if you look at it that way i guess.
but, it is not about that fact,
it is about the day they both died!
they both died on december 24th,
now, if you don’t know,
december 24th is the most romantic day in the year in japanese culture. it is basically the valentine’s day equivalent in japan.
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if you were a mangaka/author trying to hint that two characters are inlove, killing them both on the most romantic day of the year would do it.
now, onto our next shred of evidence.
KFC ‘BREAKUP’
the infamous KFC “breakup”.
a lot of people know about the KFC scene, where geto and gojo parted ways infront of a KFC.
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(this one)
now, i am not going to say that KFC is the most romantic food in japan or anything..
but it is commonly enjoyed by lovers on december 24th.
yes, i am saying that their “breakup” taking place infront of a KFC is romantic.
also, the fact that gege modeled the kfc in this scene from a real life KFC restaurant is kinda suspicious.
you don’t just accidentally draw a perfect real life KFC restaurant and paste it on your manga, do you?
here are the KFCs in both the manga and real life.
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seem quite similar, don’t you think?
next piece..
GOJO’S SILENT VOICE IN JJK 0
now i am sure that everyone knows that there is a scene where gojo says something to geto,
which was never revealed, by the way,
in jjk 0.
now, i am not going to claim that gege told me himself that what gojo said was romantic but..
gojo’s english voice actor said that he can’t say what it was, and that it was localized so it would be understood in english.
but he said that it was three words.
now, there are a lot of three words you can say to a bestfriend.
many people might think;
“but! what if it’s; ‘you’re my friend’??”
“or ‘this is it’??”
“or even ‘we’ll meet again’!”
but.. the thing is..
the light novel of jjk 0 confirmed that what gojo said was;
A. really embarassing, and
B. something neither has said to the other ever in their time together.
so, the only reasonable sentence gojo would say was simply;
“i love you.”
let us move on to our next evidence.
LGBTQ+ IN JAPAN
some might ask, “well, why did gege not confirm this despite everything you just said?”
well..
japan, gege’s hometown is..
homophobic, or hostile to gay people.
insert gasp GIF.
in the west, it’s easy to get away with something like: being gay.
but in japan, it’s so much more different.
it would be a much bigger controversy in japan if you are gay.
gay people are either fetishized, made fun of / bullied, or just completely hidden away by japanese people.
there’s a case like this, where an anime called Yuri on Ice had two male characters with an engagement and they had to label it as a bizzare friend relationship (?)
and, as far as i know, MAPPA dropped it without completing the series.
next example, is adventure time.
a series that surely, you are familiar with.
adventure time characters: marceline and bubblegum were supposed to have a romantic relationship early on in the series.
but, they had to wait until the finale in order to finally show them hugging and a small kiss.
because they fear that they might not be able to show the finale if they did it before.
and, steven universe.
steven universe wanted this big, gay wedding in a grand episode where there were also a lot of plot in.
cartoon network kept warning them that the show will not be good for them financially, and will also go horribly in eastern countries.
however, steven universe doubled down.
they forced the episode to air, so it is either
A. show the episode to eastern countries exposing viewers to LGBTQ+ or..
B. not let the episode air in those countries, leading to mass confusion due to a large portion of plot in said episode
and, keep in mind, the staff that told them that airing the episode is going to be a bad idea, is gay. (as far as i know.)
so, if gege were to reveal that satoru gojo, the most popular character in modern shonen history, was gay!?
that would result in possibly:
A. more people trying to figure out gege’s real identity, immense backlash and boycotting
B. gege losing his job and career
C. Jujutsu Kaisen being dropped by MAPPA, similar to Yuri on Ice
or
D. all of the above.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
so, dear readers, this is all i have to say about satosugu being possibly canon.
check out the YouTube video of Jallomoth about satosugu here, he explains it better than me :)
that’s all folks!
- nebula rambles🙌🏻
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juicezone · 8 months
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Hi! I'm TL, and I do agere/petre art requests! You can find my queue and open status on my header! Please read the rules below, thank you! It helps to reblog this to spread it around :D
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If reqs are closed, you may DM me and ask me to send you a message/heads up when I re-open then!
please be kind when asking :) these are not commissions, i am not required to do them!
if your request is something i’m not comfortable with doing, i’ll priv answer so you have the option of sending another if you’d like! (this is easiest to do if you're not on anon/you leave an @ of your sideblog! If it's a nameless anon, it's likely to just be deleted, sorry ^^'
please put separate requests in separate asks! IE: if you ask for Character from Fandom A and character from Fandon B, please send two asks! (Unless you want them together which is fine :P)
not a rule but feel free to give suggestions! IE: “Can you draw character with a green paci” or “can you draw character as a fox pet-regressor?” or “can you draw character and character as cg + regressor?” "character in a dip" (just make sure to specify who is who!) Honestly, detail helps a lot with being able to draw and do the req!! (NEW 4/28) I will draw stuff like characters being upset, crying, ect. I'll draw characters in dips but atm i'm not necessarily comfortable drawing accidents themselves (unfortunately, i had a problem with one post i made + deleted being basically immediately snapped up by unsavory blogs ): so)
I’d prefer to not draw your persona/sona/ect! I don’t mind drawing in a “blank/YN” type character, but I no longer would like to draw personas/sonas/ect. Sorry! (NOTE: THIS IS EXEMPT FOR FRIENDS LET ME DRAW YOUR AGERE OCS/INSERT SO BAD)
Requests may take a while! I work 30-40 hrs a week on top of being a full time student. I might get it done immediately, it might get done in three months or longer. Usually I do them in order, but not always! If you come into my inbox and repeatedly ask abt it (esp if ur rude) i will delete it. and i will block you.
FANDOMS I'LL DO
I'll do most any media! It's REALLY best to just ask me!! Bluey, MCYT (characters ONLY. *), Star Trek, Pokemon, FNAF, Warrior Cats, Nintendo, Disney - Honestly, it's best to just ask! As long as the media isn't primarily NSFW in the 18+ way, I probably don't mind! Complex chars like in Genshin Impact are fine as long as you're okay with me simplifying/putting them in different clothes (free free to request them in diff clothes even!!)
*Will not do dsmp at this time. May do people related to DSMP (ie philza for ex [i think? i dont know the people of that group]) but i will not do: Wilbur/soot or d/ream.
FANDOMS I WON'T DO
Harry Potter, Hetalia, IRL People (as in the Content Creator - see below for more detail), Attack on Titan, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, Country humans/Country balls/Anything based off the countries, Rick and Morty TBA
ABOUT IRL PEOPLE
Will do: MCYT for example! Because my design is based off their MC skin. It's like actors v their characters if that makes sense Won't do: Things like Sanders Side or Marki/plier ego stuff, because it's like. there's nothing there for referencing other than the literal person. idk its hard to explain TLDR: thats just my comfort level sorry ^^''
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runnning-outof-time · 2 years
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The Perfect Team | Arthur Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @peakypolly
Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader
Summary: Arthur's ability to reason with (Y/N)'s child has them realizing that they work rather well together.
Warnings: mentions of minor character death
Word Count: 2280
A/N: sorry this one’s a bit late. I’ve just gotten home from a play and wanted to make sure that I uploaded. This is a shorter one, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you will like it as well. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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(Y/N) felt like she was ready to rip her hair out. Ava, her three year old daughter, would not listen for anything today, and she felt like she was at the end of her rope. She'd only turned there four months ago, how could the 'terrible threes' settle in that fast?
Everything was a fight today. Getting her out of bed, picking out her outfit, giving her breakfast, and the list continued from there. She wanted to challenge every and anything that (Y/N) was saying.
The day dragged on because of this. (Y/N) felt like she was ready to crash the second the sun started to set. And she didn't even attempt to do a reading lesson with Ava today...that's just what kind of day it was. She didn't even want to think of how much more exhausted she'd be had she given that a try.
But now it was time for the toughest part of the day: getting Ava to bed. (Y/N) was dreading it from the second she woke her daughter up because she knew that it'd be a much more challenging task today with the mood that Ava was in.
Despite her hoping that the day would just fast forward through the hard part, bedtime came. Ava was coloring in the front sitting room (at peace for once) when (Y/N) entered from the kitchen. She almost wanted to let her be...she finally was doing what she was supposed to. But (Y/N) knew that she had to get her to go to bed.
So she approached her cautiously, wanting to smack herself for treating her three year old child like she was some wild animal. "Ava, sweetie..." she started, trying to get her daughter's attention. The girl dropped her utensil and turned around, looking at her mother with expecting eyes. (Y/N) smiled at her before she continued, "it's time for us to get ready for bed."
A sour look formed on Ava's face the second the 'b word' was mentioned. "Mumma, no," she huffed, her eyebrows scrunching together to show her anger at the situation.
(Y/N) raised her eyebrows in response to the pushback. "This is not a matter that is up for discussion, missy. It is your bedtime," she insisted, her hands falling onto her hips.
"I'm not tired!" Ava exclaimed, sticking her nose in the air and squeezing her eyes shut as she spoke. It was obvious that she wasn't going to back down without a fight.
After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly so that she could stay composed, (Y/N) attempted another route of persuasion, "if we go to bed now, we can read two stories together." She thought that Ava might go for that suggestion because she <loved> to read stories.
But of course Ava wasn't going for any of (Y/N)'s suggestions today. "NO!" she screamed, her voice even louder now than before, "I don't wanna read stories, I wanna keep drawing!"
(Y/N) opened her mouth to speak but couldn't get a word out because the door to the house opened and shut and footsteps sounded off the hardwood shortly after.
"Arfer!" Ava exclaimed, hopping up from her spot by the coffee table to run past her mother to the archway. Usually (Y/N) would smile at her daughter's pronunciation of her partner's name, but she'd been worn down so much tonight that she couldn't muster it up.
(Y/N) turned around in time to see Arthur crouching down to give the little girl a hug. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted her, glancing up at (Y/N) to see the unhappy expression she had. He immediately knew that he couldn't go over the top in greeting the child in his arms. Things didn’t seem to be going so well. "What's goin’ on here, eh?" he asked after he ended their hug.
"I'm drawing a picture; just like you showed me how to! Come, look!" she exclaimed, a wide smile on her face as she reached up to take hold of his hand so that she could lead him over to the table she had everything set up on.
"We were getting ready to do something else, weren't we, Ava?" (Y/N) asked the child before she could get into showing Arthur her artwork.
"Mumma!" Ava exclaimed, a pout forming on her face as she slipped right back into the defiant act she was putting on before.
"Ava," (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her voice monotone. She did not want to go back into this cycle of arguing that they'd been going in and out of all day.
Ava held the glare on her mother for a moment longer before she switched it up to a pout to show to Arthur. She was hoping that he'd be on her side in this; he always had a soft spot for her and she knew it...she often played off of it. "Can you draw with me, Arfer?" she asked him, puppy dog eyes in full display.
Arthur glanced over at (Y/N) then, silently checking if she was going to jump in and diffuse this or if he was going to be the one to mediate the situation. Her exasperated look told him everything: she needed his help. "I'd love to draw with you, kiddo, but it's your bedtime. We don't wanna go against your mum, do we?" he posed a question, crouching down to her level as he spoke.
Ava looked at Arthur for a moment before looking at her mother. (Y/N) kept her lips pursed, secretly hoping that Arthur's attempt would do the trick. She didn't think she had anymore gas left in the tank to deal with a defiant three year old.
A frown formed on the little girl's face as she realized that the situation was not going to go in her favor. She now needed to accept that it was in fact bedtime. "No, we should listen to mumma," she admitted in a defeated tone, slumping her shoulders.
"That's a good choice," Arthur agreed with what Ava said, a smile forming on his face.
"Can you read me a story, Arfer?" she asked him, a hopeful look on her face. (Y/N) was about ready to scoff at it because she was claiming that she didn't want to read stories just moments ago.
"Sure, kiddo," he nodded before continuing, "why don't you go up and let your mum get you changed and then I'll be up to read with you?" he suggested, his eyebrows raised.
"Ok!" Ava promptly agreed, a smile on her face as she bounced over to (Y/N)'s side. (Y/N) sent her a soft smile and began to walk to the steps with her. She stopped before they were able to ascend the steps, "can we read the one about the princess and the dragon?" she excitedly asked Arthur.
"Sure we can," Arthur nodded, sending a smile to (Y/N) then, who now had a relieved look on her face.
Ava made a little sound of glee before she turned and began walking up the steps with (Y/N) following close behind.
Ava was adamant that she only wanted Arthur to read the story to her, so (Y/N) happily stepped out of the little girl's bedroom once she was finished helping her get ready for bed. She decided to go downstairs and work on cleaning up the living room so that it would look orderly again. Once she was finished, she sat down on the couch and tipped her head back onto the cushion.
She heard Arthur's footsteps descending the stairs not long after she got comfy. "Long day?" he asked her, making her raise her head to see his crooked smile.
"Precisely," she answered, a tired smile forming on her face as he came over to the couch. She sat up and scooted over so that he could sit next to her. "Are you staying tonight?" she asked him once he was situated.
"You want me to?" Arthur raised his eyebrows as he looked over at her. It was her house after all, and even though they'd been together for just about two years now, he still didn't want it to seem like he was overstaying his welcome.
"Of course," she smiled at him, scooting over on the couch so that she could hug him. He responded to her embrace by squeezing the shoulder of the arm that she'd draped over his torso before turning his head to the side and kissing her temple. (Y/N) relaxed against his body, finally able to take a moment to herself without worrying about what Ava might need or be doing.
She was lucky to have Arthur in her life. They met just over two and a half years ago. (Y/N) was coming out from the church she belonged to and Arthur was finding his way in. She thought it was odd for him to be entering it, especially after the service had just ended. So she followed him back in and stuck around, watching from a few pews back as he slumped down on the bench and just stared at the altar. After letting him be for some time, she just had to go up and see if he was alright.
She was a kind-hearted person, and Arthur quickly realized that. He found it easy to convey his muddied thoughts to her, and she found it easy to see the man underneath all of the things he'd done. It wasn't a surprise to either of them when they found that they couldn't get the other off their mind. Arthur asked her to dinner after one of their conversations, and the rest was history.
Arthur loved (Y/N)'s daughter, Ava, as if she were his own daughter. She wasn't though. Her father, (Y/N)'s husband, died in a terrible accident only a few months after Ava was born. It hurt (Y/N)'s heart to know that Ava wouldn't be able to meet her father, but she was thankful that she now had Arthur in her life. They took to each other right away. (Y/N) won't ever forget the fact that one of Ava's first smiles came when she was in Arthur's arms. It's no secret that they've got a sweet spot for each other. Oftentimes, like this night, she didn't know what she'd do without him.
"I think I'm going to make myself some tea to have before bed," (Y/N) stated, breaking the silence as she finally let go of Arthur so that she could stand from the couch. "Do you want anything?" she turned to ask him.
"I'm fine, love. Thank you," Arthur responded, a smile gracing his lips as he looked up at her. She nodded before turning and walking to the kitchen area. "Was she defiant all day?" Arthur asked as she went about putting the kettle of water on the stove.
"Pretty much," (Y/N) responded, going about getting herself a cup, "everything was a challenge...she wanted nothing to do with what I was saying to her," she sighed, shaking her head. It was days like today where she felt like she was failing at the whole mother thing.
Silence fell in the room as she waited for the water to boil. It did after a short while, and she carefully poured it into her cup so that she could mix the tea in with it. "I'd probably still be fighting with her had you not come in," she commented with a slight scoff as she moved the kettle off of the stove and grabbed her cup.
She then turned and began walking back to the couch. When she looked up, she saw Arthur sitting with his arms draped over the back of the couch; looking at her with a closed-mouth smile on his face. "What?" she asked him, smiling as she felt warmth spread through her body under his gaze.
"Nothin'," he answered her, shaking his head slightly as his smile widened.
She knew better than that though. "You're thinking of something, Arthur...what is it?" she called him out, her one eyebrow raised as she stopped a few feet from the couch. She wasn't going to sit until she found out what was on his mind. It was silly, and she knew that, but she was stubborn in that sense...no wonder Ava was the way she was sometimes.
Arthur chuckled at her statement, finding her defiance rather adorable. He looked her over before his smile returned. "We make a pretty good team, don't you think?" he asked her then, tipping his head to the side slightly.
The warmth inside of her grew when she heard his question, and she couldn't stop the butterflies from doing their happy dance in her stomach. She didn't expect him to say something along these lines. But she knew the answer in an instant. "We do," she agreed with him before she walked the rest of the way to the couch he was on. She carefully sat down so as to not spill the tea she had. Once she was comfortable, she turned and smiled over at Arthur. "We definitely make a good team," she repeated her sentiment, a smile on her face as Arthur leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
"Wouldn't wanna be on a team with anyone else, love," he grinned at her, and in that moment all of the stresses that had been built up within her over the day faded away.
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Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mgcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @cilliansangel @areyenotfondofmelobster @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak
MASTERLIST
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jackdaw-sprite · 9 months
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Hi, @ep-10 ! I was your truce gifter this year for @phandomholidaytruce and I decided to use your prompts for a Japanese ghost--kinda, but mostly for a biopunk fantasy au. You're getting some character designs for a biopunk fantasy AU set in a world suspiciously similar to Sengoku era Japan! And also backstory. Mostly backstory, really.
Warning for someone getting baked alive in a kiln.
I mean, we all know who.
Jack and Maddie Fenton are a married pair of researcher/alchemists who've been brought into the country with the influence of an old friend of theirs, Vlad. He wants them to figure out the secret to producing porcelain, an expensive and magically versatile ceramic with a production process that's a closely guarded secret in a nearby, much more economically powerful country.
To this end, Vlad has supplied the Fentons with enough wealth and resources to not ask things like "where did you get this?" and "what exactly is going to happen when it gets out that we're trying to make porcelain?"
As it turns out, this is a very important question, because together the pair piece together how to build a kiln that burns hotter than any they've ever seen before and for the very first time make the coveted porcelain.
The victory is short lived: their son Daniel goes missing that very day, and then their search for him is waylaid by another discovery: some of the porcelain is coming to life, animated by a horrific amalgam of flesh and vitriol. They must find Danny, but first they must make sure the monsters they've made are destroyed…
So! The three big players in our cast of characters here are Jack, Maddie, and poor, poor Danny. They are coincidentally the only ones I had time to do a character design for, so let's look at Jack first, who is holding an experimental porcelain vase:
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That's quite an outfit. It's, uh. Not quite standard in the Sengoku: while he's wearing a hitatare, it's been modified, and he's chosen not to wear pants because it's technically not, like, a crime. I chose this for him because Jack:
a) Does not care about what everyone thinks of what he's wearing, or he wouldn't wear a jumpsuit all the time in canon b) Hates the feel of most clothes
Hitatare were growing in popularity during the Sengoku because of how comfortable they were, so it seemed a good fit for Jack. They didn't necessarily need to be worn with hakama if you were of a lower class, but it would be frowned upon to go without if you were off a higher class.
The modifications he and Maddie have made to it make it even less restrictive than a standard hitatare, and a bit more suited to their work of experimenting with kilns and clay.
The obi is stitched into place, so it doesn't actually act like a belt and put a line of pressure across Jack's stomach, and they've added a button to the side to hold the hitatare closed, instead. The stitching around the sleeve openings is pretty archaic by this point, but they've kept (or added) it so he can draw the openings closed when he wants, and a second draw string runs along his sleeve to let him draw the sleeves away from his hands when needed, while still letting him let them extend to their full length to act as a barrier between his skin and unpleasant textures.
He's got some leather gloves and a pair of very early goggles to protect his hands and eyes from the heat of the kilns.
The geta act as an additional layer of protection against bad textures, since they should keep him above mud.
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Maddie, here holding a shattered fragment of porcelain, is dressed far less eccentrically, because this (left) is before the porcelain came to life. She's just wearing a kosode with hakama and a leather apron. (She has gloves too, they're just tucked away at her back) The smaller sleeves stay out of the way while she works, and the hakama are roomy. She's wearing waraji, because she prefers what I assume is more stable footing and a lower center of gravity.
This is especially true after they start fighting the porcelain. Pictured here, you can see she keeps her hair out of her face with a standard low ponytail, and the Fenton Anti-Creep stick manages to still exist in this world, despite all odds.
This Anti-Creep stick is a bokken with embedded teeth of broken porcelain for a better shattering potential--metal, especially enough metal of sufficient quality for a sword, is expensive, and they're dealing with something that's only a stronger ceramic…
Which brings us to the kiln. And, to his great misfortune, to Danny.
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This is a multi-chambered climbing kiln. While I don't think it's the first kiln that allowed firing temperatures to reach that required for porcelain in Japan in our world, it's the most common and appeared around the same time as that first one. The design of it encourages airflow in a way that traps and directs heat to build it on itself and distribute it reasonably evenly.
The kiln chambers would get filled with the pots to be fired, then they would set a fire in the little step down in each chamber. Then they would seal the kiln chambers entrances with fire bricks, except for a small stoking hole to keep the fires fed.
Then they'd light the main fire at the mouth to the first, lowest chamber called the stoke hole and the fire box respectively.
And then they would keep the fires lit, and feed them, wood upon wood upon wood…
Until eventually, the kiln warmed, grew sweltering, grew hot, hot like fire, like iron in a forge and then hotter still, until the whole of the inside glows.
Like the center of the earth.
At the lowest, porcelain requires a firing temperature of 1000 degrees. Celsius.
Brass melts, at that temperature. Porcelain itself gets its strength from melting.
And Danny…
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Danny tripped. Danny was loading one of the chambers, and he tripped and he hit his head and by the time he woke he was sweating.
He tried to crawl away from where he knew the fires were. The flue, where the spent air left the kiln, has charred finger marks where his burnt away after the carbon dioxide and heat drove him unconscious a second time.
It was a mercy.
By the time he woke again, his body was cooling.
You see, the Fentons enchanted the kiln to make it try to repair pieces that were falling apart during the firing process. And, if one piece was destroyed in the firing anyway, to use the fragments to reinforce the other pieces in the kiln.
Danny was in the kiln. Danny's body failed.
Bone ash is not a critical ingredient in porcelain, but its presence makes it much, much stronger.
Danny woke up made of porcelain.
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His sandals left black on the soles of his feet and the fingers on one hand that had burned looked skeletal. But he woke up.
And he ran.
Later, he'll find help. Later, he'll find a way to fight the other things in the kiln that day, and the results of later firings. Later, he'll meet a boy who loves puzzles and information and who teaches him how to use a bow and arrow to keep his fragile body intact. He'll meet a girl who loves foraging (partly because it gets her away from her parents) but loves justice more.
(Whether he'll stop wearing his clothes like a corpse is another question.)
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Danny here is wearing something hitatare adjacent and hakama, along with a yugake.
Happy truce!
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starfall-spirit · 2 months
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Precious Collateral
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Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist
@acotar-omegaverse-week Day 5: Mating Bites
Summary: When Rhys set out to collect his dues from the head of the Archeron house, he knew the man would be begging for more time. What he didn’t expect was to be offered the youngest daughter as collateral.
After spending only a day in the temperamental woman’s company, he found himself utterly enthralled with his new guest—and with no intention of letting her father scrape together the funds that would grant her her freedom.
CW: Non-con, coercion, underage sex, unprotected sex
Chapter VII
Feyre
She was aching again. That spot deep in her belly that her alphas had been soothing these past two days. Or had it been three now? It was too hard to think, not that she was supposed to bother fussing over anything anyways. Fighting her heat had only gotten her in trouble after all. With the bone-deep exhaustion still holding her body, she was able to ignore the ache for a while, dozing off again with her nose buried in Rhys’ neck, Cassian wrapped over her back—a protector from the moment her heat had claimed her. She was safe with them, here in her nest. Their nest.
So she slept. For a while.
Because that ache was persistent. So was the stretch. She whimpered against her alpha’s muscled chest and he cupped her face. “Hush now. Rest a little longer,” Rhys cooed.
“B-but.”
He began to purr then, and she just about turned into a puddle. “Just lay right here on me, Feyre.” He lifted one leg across his hip, spreading her wider—more accessable to his brother. As for Cassian, he was still pushing into her, whispering sweet nothings all the while. Endless praise meant to lull her back to sleep as he carved a place for himself inside of her once again.
And it worked. She wasn’t asleep, necessary. Just… floaty. Her alphas would take care of her as long as she was a good girl for them. So she would be their best girl.
“You already are, darling,” Rhys murmured, his purr remaining steady. “Minding us so well.”
Cassian hummed in agreement, rolling his hips to tease her with his knot. “Sometimes I think I miss my little bratty girl. But then I see how sweet you are, waiting for one of us to knot you. Make’s a man wonder what you really want, little one.” Though it was Cass’ words tumbling through the fog in her mind, taking on a meaning she was scared to voice, it Was Rhys who splayed his hand across her flat belly, a bit of pressure making her all the more aware of the hard length inside of her. She moaned, an impressive array of emotions trying and failing to cut through the seemingly permanent haze holding her.
The notion was there. If she could just make it a thought and force it past her tongue—that part of her, too, now felt near leaden in her mouth. A pathetic whine was all she could manage, arching away from the male penetrating her—and straight into Rhys unyielding form. “Now, darling, that’s enough of that.” Drawing his arm back, he put just enough space between them to wrap a hand around her throat. His grip was high enough to cradle her jaw, all the while squeezing just enough to strain her breath. “What did Azriel tell you about trying to make your own decisions?” She just shook her head.
“Be our good girl, hm?”
His grip loosened, the rough pad of his thumb sweeping down the length of her throat before he shifted his hand to cup the back of her neck, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. If his first display of control hadn’t emptied her head of any attempt at resistance, the demand in his kiss would have done it for sure. 
Feyre was panting by the time he broke away, pained by the loss of his presence when he he eased her leg down from his and stood from the nest. “I’m going to see to breakfast. You two have fun. I’ll bring the food in soon.” With a wink, he was gone. Feyre didn’t have time to wonder why it bothered her so much that there was only one of them beside her now, as Cassian was rolling her down onto her belly again, one broad hand between her shoulder blades both knocking the air from her lungs and keeping her in place.
“That’s it, little one.” With every measured rock of his hips, Feyre settled a bit further, the only sound she made a soft whimper when the heat and ache became a truly painful thing inside of her. “I know. Hush now. The bite will help.”
“B-bite? What bite?” But his teeth had already clamped down, breaking the tender flesh beneath her jawline. She screamed, so distracted by the teeth in her neck that she hadn’t noticed his knot swelling until it was locked inside of her, throbbing against her pubic bone.
Feyre came hard, clenching down on him over and over—only prolonging their joining, she was sure.
She scrabbled at the pillows, a different part of her aching now that a fair chunk of the careful arrangement was ruined. “Hush, little omega, no tears now. We’ll fix your nest, don’t you worry.” ~~~~~ It seemed Feyre was to be little more than a glorified cockwarmer that morning. She only had a few moments after Cassian was able to pull out of her to straighten her nest, perhaps a bit petulant in refusing to let him help her after how he’d marked her so permanently.
She’d heard Elain whispering about Alpha marking once. How an omega friend of hers had mated and married an alpha from the next town and was expecting a child less than a year later. “Their first heat together and they conceived,” she had said. “Of course omegas are naturally more fertile, but do you believe the marking helps too. Like our tutor claimed?”
“Let’s just hope our sister is never a test subject on the matter.”
It had been one of the very few kindnesses Feyre had seen Nesta display. Perhaps that was why the conversation had lodged itself so permanently in her mind. And now here she was, with two of her alphas having confirmed Elain’s suspicions just an hour before.
And Rhys was due his turn, it seemed. The moment Rhys had settled the plates on a flat spot in the nest, he was stripping out of his clothes again, claiming her in one steady glide, but making no further move to fuck her. Or mark her—yet. Instead he remained inside her, rekindling the heat inside of her, paying no mind to the slick and cum that coated the place they were joined as he fed her little morsels of flaky pastry and fresh bacon. She tried to raise her hips once, to get him to do something. He’d merely tapped her nose, leaning down to kiss her with a gentle scolding on his lips.
“Feyre, who decides what you need?”
“You do, Daddy,” she whispered back, quiet—more importantly, obedient as he fed her another bite of the jelly filled treat. She swallowed. “Daddy?” He raised a brow. “How old are you?” 
His lips twitched up at the corners. “I’m thirty-four, pet. But that makes no difference in my role to you. Cassian and Azriel are a few months younger and older than me, respectively.”
She swallowed, squirming a bit beneath him. That is unil he pinned her with the weight of his lower body. “I’m only seventeen.”
“Believe me, darling, I’ve been reminded of that fact constantly. It changes nothing.” Setting the plates outside the ring of her nest, Rhys raised himself enough to lift her by the hips, positioning her higher against the pillows. She opened her mouth to argue, only to be silenced by another tender kiss. “Little omega, did you think you were going to convince me you shouldn’t be marked and bred because you’re a minor? You innocent little thing, caught in a cruel, cruel world.” He sighed, once again cupping the back of her neck, this time pressing his thumb into the hallow beneath her jaw. “My Feyre.”
She sniffled.
“No tears, little girl,” he told her, repeating his brother’s words. “I want you to look at me, sweet girl. I want you to look at me while I claim you. And I want you to know that we’re doing this for your own good. It’s too big a world for you to wander alone and your family has no desire to protect you, do they?” She sniffled again, refusing to answer him. “That’s why you have us now.”
“The three of us are going to protect you, Feyre.”
He set a slow and steady rhythm, each thrust gentle, but sure. An alpha who could be soft for her, but an alpha all the same.
“We’ll protect you.” Thrust
“We’ll spoil you.” Thrust. 
“We’ll cherish you.” Thrust.
His voice dropped to a growl that sent a shiver through her very bones. “And we’ll breed you, darling. Breed you, fill you up again and again until you’ve given each of us a child. And you’re not going to fight it, are you?”
She sobbed, but held his gaze, just as he demanded. “No, Daddy.”
He sighed again, kissing her brow. “That’s my good girl.” She braced herself when his head dropped to her shoulder, teeth sinking into the skin at the crook of her neck. Two claimings made, with one looming ever closer. ~~~~~ Cassian and Rhys kept constant watch, both together and apart. Sometimes they kept her filled up, others just cuddling her to make sure she didn’t crash during such a vulnerable time.
She was five days into her heat when Azriel finally returned to her room. Narrowing his eyes, Cassian stood to begin a conversation at the door, their voices too low for her to decipher. “She knows who we are, Cass,” she finally heard, Azriel’s silken voice just agitated enough to rise. “She needs to see all of us, clean and bloody to trust us with her care.”
That’s when the stench hit her. He had been speaking literally, she realized.
The coppery tang in the air forced her to peer through the dark, her vision helped by the sliver of moonlight peeking through her sheer drapes. “Feyre. It’s good to see you’re a bit more clear-headed, now. The heat’s almost broken.” 
She didn’t let her eyes leave him when she heard Cass retreat, the door snicking shut. She licked her lips, honestly more unnerved by his heavy gaze on her than the blood coating his cloathing and hands. The splatter went all the way up his neck. Why hadn’t he bathed before coming to her room. Just to test her fear of him?
Feyre supposed she felt pity more than anything. What toll did it take, this endless cycle of bloodshed her lovers were trapped in? “Would you—” She cleared her throat, holding his gaze. “Would you like a bath? Or rest now,” she suggested, noting the bags beneath his eyes even in the dim light of nature. “You don’t have to tend to me the moment you’re home. I don’t imagine you and your brothers can truly afford to prioritize my care for so long. Under such… pressure.”
He growled softly. “Do you realize, Feyre, how long my brothers and I have searched for an omega strong enough to stand beside us.”
“Beside you?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “Or beneath you? After all, I’m just a whore to breed, aren’t I?”
His lips pulled back in a snarl, the white of his teeth akin to a flash in the dark. And then he was stalking towards her, his grip on her throat similar to Rhys’, though he had yet to put apply pressure.
“Rhys needs an an heir. All three of us desire a family. Do not think for a moment that is your only purpose. He would never have accepted your father’s offer if you were meant to be a simple whore. If I ever hear you say anything to that effect again regarding your place in this pack I will strip you bare and give you a heavy dose of my belt. Is. That. Clear?”
She shuddered, nodding quickly. “Good girl. Now, sweetheart, you’re going to undress me and I’m going to fuck you in that perfect little nest you made.”
Shivering once again, she dropped her eyes to the zipper of his summer jacket. “Perfect?” she whispered. “I’ve never done anything perfectly. My sisters, perhaps.”
He gripped her wrists the moment she reached up to push the jacket from his shoulders. “Any ill notions, Feyre, will earn you that belt. You are perfect. A brat, yes, but lovely all the same. Your nest too, is lovely. My sweet, talented, girl. The perfect place to claim you.”
She stripped him in a hurry then, letting him raise her thin nightgown over her head in turn before he hoisted her up in his arms and carried her to her perfect nest.
~~~~~
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mastersoftheair · 7 months
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"Masters of the Air detail: Part 2-Dave Littleton
"[...] Dave is a lifelong WWII aviation enthusiast who has worked on a lot of other films in the past. He has a passion for the B-17 that goes back to his childhood. So much so that he has built a super accurate cockpit, from scratch over 20+ years, using a lot of original parts and equipment. The rest he made by hand. He brought his cockpit to the studio, and it was wonderful for sure.
"Dave worked pre-production, hand in hand with BGI, the company that made a lot, if not most, of the B-17 props and the two full-size aircraft. He gave them the drawings, photos and answered their questions. I think he was instrumental in the success of so many aspects of MOTA.
"I was asked to come over to teach the aircrew how to look like they could pilot, navigate, drop bombs, shoot guns, radio work etc., which ended up being a lot more than that. Dave let us use his cockpit for the flight training and top turret gunner/engineer duties.
"The pilots and engineers went through initial training in Dave’s cockpit and then we would rehearse for the specific scenes.
"I thought that some of the actors might have had some sort of prior knowledge of flying from gaming or flight simulators, but this was not the case. None of them had any concept of flying which was perfectly okay. I had to sit them down in a chair and teach them the very basics of the flight controls and how they are used. Grabbing an imaginary control wheel and had their feet on imaginary rudder pedals. Making sure they used the rudders first and then aileron as you would in a heavy tail wheel aircraft.
"We then progressed into Dave’s cockpit to teach them the myriad of engine controls and their basic function. Later when we had a specific scene, we would go through the procedures whether it be takeoff, landing, engine shutdown etc. Just having them know where to look on the panel for power changes, checklist, formation flying etc. worked out well. The “kids” did a fantastic job and it shows in the episodes.
"The biggest item to try and get across to the actors was being a cohesive flight crew. Remember that the original guys had been flying together for a while and that was an important aspect of their training for the filming. There is nothing sweeter than flying with someone for a while where you get to know each other and anticipate what the other needs before he asks for it. We trained the pilot, copilot and engineer together for takeoff so the pilot would be pushing the throttles with the copilot backing him up, doing the fine tuning, and the engineer in between them doing his part too. The copilot or flight engineer reaching down for the prop controls during power changes as this would differ from one flight crew to another. Same with running the checklist as the engineer and even crew in the back are participating over the interphone. And these details made the final cut and it looked great. Okay, I may be biased…
"Dave’s cockpit was so very helpful for the training because it was on the floor and was easily accessible. The main cockpit used for filming was on a gimbal 20 feet in the air! With Dave’s cockpit, I could lean in from a side window and instruct with all three crew in place. The various directors could also come up to each side and see and direct how they wanted the scene to go. It would give them ideas on camera angles to set up.
"The other aspect of Dave’s wonderful cockpit was its authenticity and detail. He used so many original parts that it is as accurate as could possibly be. Dave wanted it used as much as possible but frankly was a bit shy about this. Not having ever been known for being shy, I really wanted it used for as many close ups as possible and pushed for this. As a result, you can see Dave’s awesome detailed handiwork in MOTA especially in the close-up scenes showing the magneto switches, electrical, primer use and so much more.
"Dave and I were basically the only two on set who had extensive knowledge of WWII aviation and B-17 information. We were constantly being asked questions and were helping lots of different departments. He and I split up the advising since there were several units filming at the same time. We were both out in the field to start mostly at Abingdon where the full size BGI aircraft were. When the volume or studio started ramping up, I stayed there training and rehearsing while Dave continued the field work. We were trying our best to keep things realistic and authentic, but we were spread really thin.
"Dave took off a lot of time from his day job to do this project, as did I, but with the production over runs, COVID etc. he had to go back to work and sadly missed the last few months of filming. We sure missed Dave, especially out in the field, although he was always available by phone and still helped out as much as he could..." - (Taigh Ramey on Facebook)
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lokorum · 4 months
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Pls rant about non romance cole…he’s my favorite character in anything, ever and it feels so sad that we never got to have a deeper relationship w him. Like the mechanics/possible lore of having a romance with a spirit are so tantalizingly interesting but no…also doubting we will see him in veil guard which leaves me so so broken …
*looks at their pile of unpacked feelings about cole*
so ૮( ◡̀_◡́)ა where to start....................
first of all uh! im not good at talking! that's why i draw phphp but i'll try my best to resurrect my memories from 2014 and share it with you!! sorry if it will sound weird, english is not my native language! 
well WELL from the begining then. i remember spending hours  more like days hhhh thinking about how weird and cool the recruiting scene with cole is? later when he is already with the inquisition, our party is either on guard around him or kinda treats him like he is helpless and needs special attention or guidance or something like that? demonising someone like him or framing them as in need of help are like textbook behavior ofc and im not here to be a hater, i just noticed it? moments with solas and varric fighting over him like a divorced couple are super cute for sure!!
but i remember being confused because excuse me, out of all of them, this guy??, this feral bat that is chilling on the ceiling like it's a lounge-zone inside Lucius' head, created especially for him?
he is confident. also a little bit nervous, a bunch mysterious and just ghostly cool. but also confident. (im not saying this confidence is not misplaced sometimes btw x) he even tells you that if you'll leave your head you'll die! what a jokester (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)
and the whole quest with templars and envy are soooo horror coded, i love it!! it looked a bit silly, sure
(even after so many years im not able to get rid of the image in my brain phphphp) 
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but it's still a very interesting quest!! dorian is ✨the bestie✨ but i'm always picking templars bc the implications of the story are just so good
1. its placed at the beginning of the game and your character is probably confused and anxious and dont yet worked out the routine of how to deal with their new title\powers + not every inquisitor character would want to be in the spotlight.
imagine you suddenly got yourself into position where a lot of people looking up to you, listening to what you saying, placing their hopes on you or waiting for you to fail? this is terrible! id 1000% just jumped out of a cliff!!! a small one, but still 
2. you meeting the guy who basically came from a place you now have unlimited access to.
he is: a) almost as confused as you are b) possibly came to this world without knowing consequences of that decision c) along the way he is figuring out how to be himself in the environment that is nothing like where he used to live. wow thats just like forced immigration *nervous laugh*
3. and let's not forget that you are meeting him inside your head and you can say to him "you look familiar".
dont know about you but apparently i dont need much to start screaming ¯(ツ)/¯
also can i just spend the moment to say that this is three (3) identical dialogue options??????????
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the screenshot is from here btw
how awesome would it be to be able to figure out stuff together? to find comfort in someone, with someone who barely experienced it this way? to build on your strong sides? like "hope" for cole and i guess "unhingedness" for the inquisitor? i bet they would ground each other easily as well: cole distracting inq by being unintentionally mischievous and inq would have a notepad with cole's "firsts ____" or they would just read together. oh im such a sucker for hurt\comfort\some things cant be healed stuff uaaaaaaaaa
ALSO THE "FORGET" THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the drama the horror the tension!!!!!!!! you can fight me over this but heres the thought:
cole being so stressed that he is erasing\being on the edge of erasing the inquisitor's memories??????
i got the feeling that cole's confidence in the concept of "help" is, among other things, makes him being able to zoom in on something borderline obsessively? or vise versa - dismissively, not noticing "it hurts, its not for the better"? he thanks you when you promise to kill him, he cries when you do not. i swear this man (─ ‿ ─)
+quick addition bc im not entirely sure: so if i got it right, the anchor makes the inquisitor "too bright" to read? so among all the people we know about inq is the one that cole can't truly empathise on this lvl? on spiritual lvl you might say lsdkjflksdjflkj sorry!!!!! but jokes aside,this is like the perfect ground to build both comforting stories 
"someone from the party notices that cole is hanging near inq before inq do, and when asked he explains it by saying something like "dry warm skin. the air is stilled with quiet, easy to breathe. i followed the shining whispers and then i was followed no more" with the most plain face possible? "
and "today for lunch i have glass" kind of stories, like "the inquisitor is cornered and possibly bleeding and probably on the verge of passing out and they know that situation is bad and no one should follow/find them, "it's better to wait it out and deal with it on my own" kind of clown behavior. so they laugh tiredly at how pathetic they are, maybe remembering something similar from their childhood, remarks from their sibling for ex., and just trying their best to not think about how they need cole's help, cole's presence. the sense of safety that comes when he is around" 
uh!!! that wasnt neither quick or painless so i'll go make a tea wait a second please
im back!! so since i talked about the forget thing i must confess - i dont really like cole's personal quest???? again, im not complaining or anything but i remember feeling kinda empty while playing it? like deep inside me, there was something sad, but it was so far away,i coudn't even feel it properly?
both human and spirit versions of his ending made me feel like the distance between you and him lengthened, and maybe you could do something about it before but now? this "something" is missing and you're lost and can't even tell for sure if theres was a chance to do something in the first place? and cole just moved on? its super logical considering he is not a romance option but phphph so, i rarely romance someone in games, partly bc rpg tends to be a little horny and im that kind of ace who is not interested in this, partly bc i tend to pay attention to non-romanceable characters, so when i started to explore last da:i dlc and i saw cole having gf i was like "well ouch".
imagine your inq has a crush on cole but they never were able to say it clearly?
mb it was a melancholic slowburn, and your character was going through too much and felt like burdening cole with their problems would be unfair?
maybe they tried but the timing was wrong, the words felt stupid, and their hands felt too dirty, too guilty?
oh anon its been ten years and its still huuuuuurts!!!! if you following me for a while you know that im an edge lord in poor disguise so its not surprising for neither you or me that i ended up rumbling about inexplicable sadness and crushing existential guilt, but sorry for that anyway!! if anyone would want me to talk about something specific, or to draw something - im here, staring at the wall, listening to cole's banter :') thank you for the wonderful question tho, it was more than just nice to return back to this ship. im so agreeing with you about cole being the fave character from everything, but i also understand that this could mean being very unsatisfied with the way he was portrayed at some points or just with the fact that characters like him are rare so im sending you warm and tight hugs and a little sketch!! <3 
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let's collectively accept the fact that dav gonna be a beautiful mess, we gonna love it (passionately), we gonna be hurt by it (not surprisingly) and COLE FOREVER WILL BE THE BEST DA CHARACTER EVER IM NOT GONNA CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME
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