I have a phobia of dogs like can't stand seeing images of them phobia but I love your work so much, I don't know what it is but there's something beautiful about how I can look at it without feeling that phobia. Like being on top of a mountain and seeing the view of the world below or how fire looks pretty close up. Your art to me feels like that scene in fantastic mr fox with the wolf.
Ah, that's both heartwarming and very interesting, I've never heard of any cynophobes liking my work! Thank you!
(I won't bother you about it of course, but I can't help but wonder if it's the same thing for all furry/anthro art you see or for some reason just me, and if it's the latter, what could be making my stuff more palatable for someone who is that intensely uncomfortable with canines. My style isn't realistic but it isn't super stylized and exaggerated either. Is it about the anthropomorphization and the humanlike features, expressions and behavior? When I draw actual dog-shaped-dogs, are they harder to look at?).
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you know, i can handle a little bit of fun "Nandor is dumb" talk, but i have a net-zero tolerance for any implication that Nandor is not educated.
Nandor would have been incredibly educated in his lifetime.
even (or especially) as a soldier in the Islamic World. being a soldier was more like getting sent to boarding school that's also a military camp. they weren't just concerned with creating loyal fodder for war. they were building the next government officials, generals, accountants, advisors, etc. it was important that young men knew how to read, write, speak multiple languages, learn philosophy...sometimes even studying art and music was mandatory.
if he was nobility (and its most likely he was), take all that shit and multiply it exponentially. Nandor would have been reading Plato at the same age most people are still potty training. he would have been specifically groomed in such a way to not be just a brilliant strategist and warrior, but also diplomate and ambassador of literally the center of scientific and cultural excellence of the age.
so like yeah, he can be a big dummy sometimes, sure. but that bitch is probably more educated than any of us will ever be.
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zoro kisses luffy always three times.
when they wake up, always intertwined in whatever place they fell asleep that night, zoro kisses luffy's forehead, cheek, and then lips. in that order, holding his face with both hands every time. it makes luffy wake up with a smile.
when he's training and luffy decides it's amusing to watch his boyfriend, zoro stops always three times to kiss luffy. three breaks with each set of exercises. forehead. head, if luffy isn't wearing the hat (if he is, then the cheek). and lips when he's done exercising.
when they're eating, zoro kisses luffy's free hand. then he kisses him on the shoulder. and lastly, on his head. his lips are busy eating, after all, but luffy smiles nevertheless and leans on his touch even if he's focused on the food.
when they win a fight, zoro kisses him three times exactly on the lips. softly. a bit harder. and then more passionately the third time. luffy always returns the kisses with more intensity, between laughs and giggles.
when luffy is the one sleeping after the fight, resting. he's exhausted, but he can somehow feel in his dreams how zoro moves his hair to the side to kiss his forehead. his hand. his wrist.
when they're making love, zoro always kisses the inside of luffy's right leg three times, making his way to his thighs. then does the same with the left one, and proceeds to kiss his scar. his neck. his shoulders. always three times.
luffy notices after some time together, but says nothing. instead, he tries to do the same. he kisses zoro's ear three times (one kiss per earring). he kisses his right hand, the left one, and then his lips (one kiss per sword). he kisses zoro's scar on his eye, the one on his chest, and the one on his shoulder (one kiss per every moment luffy wasn't there to fight with him).
"why are you doing this?" zoro asks one day out of the blue, after luffy finishes with his set of kisses.
the captain tilts his head to the side, frowning. "doing what?"
and the swordsman, for once, doesn't know what to say, so he stays quiet for a few seconds. "the- the thing. with the kisses. three kisses. why? that's a me thing. i do it because-"
"it calms you down!" luffy figures, and due to zoro's eyes, he assumes his hypothesis is right. the captain grins, squeezing his hand three times. "since you like doing it so much, i thought it would make you feel better if i did it too. does it work?"
zoro stares at him with a fond smile, one that he only is able to show when they're on their own. he squeezes luffy's hand back three times. "yes, captain."
...
it happens quick.
they don't see it coming. luffy should have been able to protect them.
and it's stupid, he thinks. it shouldn't hurt this way. he should be focusing on going back to his crew instead of this, but he feels uneasy. uncomfortable in his own skin.
he had only kissed zoro twice that day back at sabaody.
he has to go back to him, so he can kiss him four times. one to make up for the day they were separated, and three more, only because. only because he will be able to do it after two years. it will take two years to see each other again. two. he's starting to hate that number.
but then he thinks about zoro. zo-ro. two syllables. two o's. his second in command. his first mate. one, two, three.
he didn't exactly get why zoro likes counting so much. numbers are something luffy isn't fond of following much. but he thinks he gets it now.
one year. two years.
on the third one, he'll be able to see him. and luffy will kiss zoro one time, to make up for sabaody. and it will be the first kiss of endless sets of kisses coming in three.
and, weirdly enough, it calms him down too.
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hi hi willow!!!!!!!!!!! (<- absolutely not in pain whatsoever)....... i am just wondering if..... uh.... u have imagined a reason for the breakup yet? i'd love to know why you think bakugo would ever break up with you. heh heh. hah. :D (i am crying)
here are the things you don't know—yet, at this point in time after the breakup.
two weeks before, dynamight gets into an ugly argument with a civilian. over something stupid, probably; she's drunk and not listening to a word the hero is telling her, stumbling around in public and taking her shoes off and shoving at him when he tries to corral her from getting into another fistfight in the street.
it's just—bad. looks bad. before anything productive can happen, a few of her friends are stumbling out and screaming at him, too, for being a cocky asshole and putting their phones in his face and recording him and maybe he says something he shouldn't—not something terrible, just something that sounds extra bad when a group of young women are screaming and angry at you—and it gets blasted all over the internet.
two weeks before, dynamight gets dragged in the paper. for being a jerk. for being such an asshole. remember when he nearly collapsed that building last month, during that fight? so careless. and he's never friendly when anyone comes up to him on the street, either in uniform or not. is more likely to brush someone away than stop and take a picture. in high school he was a little brat, too, with the way he spoke to his peers and didn't know respect if it slapped him in the face.
his poor partner. must be miserable to be with him all the time. they deserve better.
and if they know how he is? and how he acts to the people he's supposed to take care of? well, they must condone that kind of behavior, no? they're okay with him acting like that in public? what kind of morals do they have, anyway?
the other thing you don't know yet is that katsuki has been working every day. two shifts, sometimes, to the point that there's little more he does than eat and sleep and be dynamight. there's no free time. if any tries to make an appearance in his schedule—he's filling it with something, anything; going hiking, working out, cooking dinner for his shithead friends, not being at home.
whatever he's doing, he's not being at home.
yes, he got rid of everything he could that belonged to you. because he couldn't stand to look at it and know you weren't going to use it in his house again. can't stand it. refuses to, actually. is only putting one foot in front of the other, every day, and not really thinking about that weird, awful weight sitting in his gut, that feels dark and terrifying. he can't think about it. he's not bad at avoiding those kind of thoughts—he's done it before and he'll do it again.
and lastly—he's a fucking idiot.
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