#hopefully it's enjoyed!

[oh-so-romantically-hopeless]

The slight weight in his hands is familiar. It's always been familiar, since the first time he'd managed to bring a suitable weapon into existence. The first time he could remember anyways.

The fizzling of magic against his gloved hands is almost like warmth. The sensation of his magic being drawn from his person into his only does to make it feel like another part of himself, another limb. Maybe it was, in an odd sort of way. It was his after all.

He'd tried other things, trying to gauge which would be the best for him. The best to complete his work.

-

First a bow. It'd be elegant, long ranged, and quick. His namesake used one, how hard could it possibly be?

Much harder than it'd looked initially. He'd ended up with bruised fingers from recoil, an arrow to the foot, and wounded pride. Maybe... The bow was more suited to others anyways.

Next had been a sword, summoned of his own magic (he'd learned since the first attempt that his own was far better suited). That had been too unwieldy, clumsy, and looked horrifying when he used it. He didn't want to stab anyone, even if it was harmless usually it looked... Weird.

Next, a javelin. Long range, but much too big for what he needed. He really needed to find something that didn't look like he was committing murder.

He couldn't quite understand how this came so easily to the others! Not everyone had access to standard skeleton magic, he knew that, he'd seen it with his own eyelights! Eyelight.

They usually made do with other things, and knew what to do with them instinctively. Almost beautifully, like a dance instead of weaponry.

Maybe a few of them were older than him... Much older... With centuries of practice. But even baby bones seemed to handle their magic better than he had in months of attempts!

The whispers of quitting had begun to linger in the back of his mind. It'd be far easier to give up than be thwarted at nearly every turn. Leave this behind, leave his purpose behind in favor of a comfier, less taxing existence.

An eternal failure.

Now... Cupid could let a lot of things pass. Being hunted for sport by other outcodes? He was faster, and had a decent enough hold on his other forms of magic to escape.

Strung up by the multiverse's most volatile destroyer? He'd managed to talk his way out! Sort of!

Stuck in an uncomfortable situation? He could always find the positive in it! The silver lining of any stormy cloud! A constant optimist of his own will and power!

But, he could not- No. He would not be a failure. After all. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again, right?

In the end it'd taken less effort than he thought to get him there. That instinct he'd watched come to the others. What'd he'd been so envious of.

The end of an exhausting day, curled up in the soft pile of blankets he called a bed, watching whisps of his magic flow around his fingers in some manner of sleepy entertainment.

He'd only closed his socket for a moment, letting the warm, familiar fizzle continue to rest in his palm. Only to open it when instead of flowing, it decided to settle into his palm. Heavier, with the same quality, familiar.

He never questioned why it'd formed that way, a firearm that looked like it came out of one of the various alternates of "Mew Mew Kissy Cutie". But he had it, and he loved it. The right weight, long range, and far subtler than anything else he'd tried.

He'd put it to good use.

-

It hasn't been too long since then, but he's already become creative with it. A singular pistol to doubles, to a shotgun, to more. Channeling his more useful, and common, magic through it.

He keeps his hands steady, target right in view. The perfect shot! Pride settles in his chest, he'd gotten so far with it! Once he knew what he was doing of course!

It was only a pairing of friends, instilling platonic interest. Nothing that'd harm anyone, though his magic was rarely used for that. He'd done far too much study, enough to be sure that the two of them would be good for each other.

He lets the fizzling magic grow against his palms, warming up against him as it charged. Finger curling around the trigger in anticipation. Pulled back with the utmost caution.

The culmination of all his effort, his will.

A perfect shot.

[katsinspats]

Thematically appropriate comic for Make a Terrible Comic Day!!

I saw the original post this morning and it made me get out of bed to make something, so thank u Pseudonym Jones mission accomplished

[aur0raaura]

Yknow what- you're so right...

[sylvrndoodles]

[daeyumi]

Happy 1st anniversary to TotK!! 💛☁️✨

Even tho the game wasn’t what I hoped it would be, it still means so much to me.

[jakei95]

Gee what a wild day online. Let me be clear: If my work has X, Y, or Z in the official media, I don’t care if you headcanon smth as A, B, or C as long as it doesn’t harm real people. Don’t force others to give up their autonomy with fan work. Mine wouldn’t even exist without it.

[tetrabytez]

Something that I've personally wondered about for a long time.

You know the drill. Reblog for sample size.

Part Two

[otaku553]

Fire (part 3)

<- (PREV) (NEXT) ->

(Spade Pirate Sabo AU Masterpost)

[ionomycin]

fishbone corset

[imissthestarswhenicry]

whos he texting?🤨

[sirenetica]

Session Six

[electrozeistyking]

"She's Gone"

This bad boy was started on the third of November, and finished on the seventh. In total, there are thirty panels (all of which were drawn separately).

A good chunk of N's dialogue near the end came to me after I did some improv to figure out what he should say. I have since dubbed it "N's Failure Monologue."

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[sayuyuv]

Happy Birthday Prompto!!

[glo-shroom]

yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul

[panthermouthh]

“You doubtless recollect these papers. Here they are. Everything is related in them which bears reference to my accursed origin… the minutest description of my odious and loathesome person is given, in language which painted your own horrors and rendered mine indelible. I sickened as I read.”