#i just want to add a few smaller pieces around the one i already have
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itoshi-s · 2 years ago
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what if i got the luck puzzle piece tatted on my ass instead. what then
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theother-victoria · 19 days ago
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Mr reca word vomit bc the brain worms won’t leave my brain!!! I promise I’m Very Sane abt this man
TAGS: not proofread, written before his release so potentially ooc and I’m too lazy to rewrite it post-release, secret relationship trope, reader wears lipstick, making out eheheheheh, reader is smaller/shorter than him, this is my propaganda and sign for u to become a reca kisser too
TAGLIST: @akutasoda, @https-sourlimes, @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii (putting you on the reca kisser agenda >:3), @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz
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Ok so imagine being in a secret relationship with the man himself…
Like the two of you HATE each other’s guts in public. As a rival film producer, the public loves to pit your films against each other, and the two of you as well apparently. There have been so many instances of you making small digs and sly remarks toward each other during interviews that it’s become somewhat expected by now. You have a gripe with the pacing of his films and his fame. He has a bone to pick with your cinematography.
“That manic director’s most recent film? I would give my thoughts, but unfortunately I fell asleep not even halfway through.”
“That uninspired, dreadfully dull and artistically lacking director? All their films look the same. I couldn’t differentiate them even if I wanted to.”
No matter how critically acclaimed your work is, he always has something to say about it.
Even if it was in the back of an alley with his hands gripping your hips tightly and teeth nipping at your neck.
"It took until a quarter of the way through the movie before- hah- your cinematography finally showed some signs of thought put into the shots. I know you can do better than this. So why- mmph- did it take you so long?"
You angrily nip on his bottom lip. A flash of satisfaction runs through you when you hear him hiss and taste blood on the tip of your tongue.
“Like you’re one to talk with the horrendous pacing of your newest film! Tell me, what was the plot of it again? Because I- mmm!?- already forgot the direction it was supposed to be taking twenty minutes in!”
"Well, you just simply lack reading comprehension. Not my fault, of course.”
“Oh, you little piece of-!”
He shuts you up with a rough and messy kiss. Your legs immediately go jelly and were it not for his leg slotted between yours and pushing you up against the wall, you think you would’ve collapsed right there and then.
When he pulls away, your lips are glossy and swollen. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that makes him smirk in satisfaction and without any hesitation, he pulls out his camera to take a few shots.
“Yes, yes, wonderful! That expression really suits you!”
Anger looks good on you, but he much rather prefers this expression.
He leans in for another kiss and because you can’t say no to him, you indulge him- until you hear footsteps nearby. You hurriedly clamp your hand over his mouth and wait until they’re gone before glaring at him.
“Stop running your mouth so much in public! You’ll give us away at this point!”
“Then stop being so loud,” he hisses back, though he’s in no better state than you, his-already-disheveled hair an absolute mess now from you gripping it. His flushed face is littered with lipstick marks and you can’t resist the temptation to add a few more.
“Cheeky, aren’t you?” he huffs out as you place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. A soft kiss to his eyelid makes his eyes flutter shut and an affectionate sigh escape him. He smells of the chemicals used to develop film and strong coffee…
Then there’s a gasp and the undeniable sound of a camera shutter going off. Caught red handed.
You pull apart from him with a surprised gasp and expression. Strangely, he doesn’t look fazed at all. Still as smug as ever.
You whirl around to see an equally-shocked photographer standing there. Paparazzi, from the looks of it. He was probably going around and looking for some potential shots before accidentally stumbling upon something that would make front-page headlines. When you look back at him, then at the photographer, there’s even more people now snapping away at the two of you in a compromising position.
With the damage already done, you try to leave before he stops you. His jacket resting on your shoulders dwarfs your smaller frame and he yanks on the film strip belt to reel you back in. The crowd of photographers has doubled now, murmuring excitedly to themselves.
“Wh- let go! The paparazzi are having a field day-!”
He silences you with a swift kiss and a pinch to the inner thigh. The cameras flash even more rapidly now.
“Let them see for all I care.”
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enjoyed this? my taglist is open!
@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai
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pterribledinosaurdrawings · 2 years ago
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could you tell me more about spoonflower? i'm interested in uploading my own designs, but i'm not entirely sure how it works or how much it pays. thank you!
Sure! When you first upload your design, it'll look like this.
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The standard DPI for printing on all the fabric sites I've seen is 150, and since I made this pattern at 200 DPI that means Spoonflower will print it bigger than I want it unless I change it here. So I click on the "change DPI" thing, type in "200" and click "change". Sometimes I find it doesn't save, so I always go back later to check and make sure it did save the right DPI.
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(You can avoid this by just changing your image to the right DPI before uploading, but sometimes I want the option to make it a bit bigger, just in case.)
If you want to make multiple sizes of the same pattern available you'll have to upload a different version for each one and change the size individually. For example, I drew my Bathroom Dinosaurs pattern pretty large and at 150 DPI, and left that as is for the big version.
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But I wanted a small version too, so for that one I changed it to 670 pixels per inch so it'd print much smaller.
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You write in the title, tags, and description, and you can put any links to other pages or references in the "Additional Details" section.
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(Leaving links isn't usually necessary, but sometimes it is, like how I wanted to leave a link to the original 1760's teapot for my crinoid fossil pattern.)
At this point, you can order things printed with your design, but nobody else can yet. You have the option to show the design publicly, but I like to keep it private until I've ordered my proofs and can sell it.
Now, to order proofs! DO NOT GET THE CUT SWATCHES!!! They are SO much more expensive than getting a fill-a-yard, because cutting and packaging all the little pieces is a lot of extra labour. Wether you have a few designs, or a lot, just get a fill-a-yard.
To make a fill-a-yard you first need to make a collection. Collections can be either public or private, so I keep a private collection called "new designs to proof", and I put all my new designs in there until I've ordered them. You can also add other people's patterns to a collection, so if you have extra space to fill up or you want little bits of a bunch of other people's patterns for a quilt or something, add whatever you want to your collection.
On the collections page when you hover your mouse over one you'll see a little patchwork symbol show up in the middle along the bottom edge, and you click on that.
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That'll take you here, and you choose a layout and a fabric.
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For some reason the fabric options here are a bit limited and vary depending on the layout. I like to get either the 1 yard/42 designs in cotton poplin, or the 2 yards/48 designs in cotton sateen, but there are plenty more you could try.
I'll click the latter for this example. (The squares in this one are the perfect size for pleated face masks, and I have a few made from mine and my friend's fabrics.)
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Then you just click on a design and click on however many squares/rectangles you want it to fill. It usually takes a few seconds for them to show up.
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You can have just one little sample of each, or you could make half the fabric be one design and fill up the rest with little samples. (That's what I did for my brown monster waistcoat - I printed juuuust enough of a fill-a-yard to cut out a waistcoat from, and the rest was other samples.)
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You can change it around if you want. Once you're happy with it, put it in the cart and buy it!
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I'm not going to order this one since it's an example with designs I've already proofed, but here's what my monster patterns looked like when they arrived.
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Also, I want to point out that you could VERY easily make some really fun pride flags using the fill-a-yard! You might have to have it be only part of the fabric, depending on the number of stripes, but you could make it be any texture or pattern you want. Here's a quick example I did with other people's patterns by searching "(colour) marble texture".
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With only 4 stripes I'd have to fill the rest of the space in with something else and cut it off, but it would still be pretty big! (The edge of that purple stripe looks jagged in the preview, but they print perfectly straight.)
I have not done this, but someone should! Just wash it, trim the blank edges off, hem it, and you've got a flag!
(Don't do this with the 2 yards/4 designs option though, it looks like nice stripes in the thumbnail but it's made for infinity scarves and there's a gap and dotted line down the middle for cutting. Bleh.)
Anyways, once your samples arrive you can make the designs available for sale! If you have any changes you'd like to make, to the size it prints at or the pattern itself, you can make them now.
I found the small version of the Bathroom Dinosaurs print was too small when I first got my proofs, so I just reduced the DPI a bit.
And you can replace the image with a new, edited version by clicking "upload revision".
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So when my brown coffin pattern printed really washed out and grey, I replaced it with a more saturated version and was good to go, no need to order another proof.
Down at the bottom of the design editing page you can now click on the options to list it publicly, and to sell it on fabric and/or wallpaper. I make all of them available on fabric, and some on wallpaper if I deem them to be appropriately large.
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They'll pay you 10% of the sales price of the fabric, or slightly more if you sell over a certain amount in a month. There's a whole page of questions and answers about it.
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You also get a 10% discount if you order fabrics with your own designs. (Although, personally, if I'm ordering my own designs on fabrics for me then I'd prefer to get them from somewhere like ArtFabrics, since they use reactive dyes instead of inks, so their blacks actually print black and don't make the fabric stiffer like Spoonflower's do. And also because they're here in Canada so there's less shipping cost. Sadly they don't have an option to sell your designs though.)
Spoonflower also has weekly design contests which are announced a few weeks in advance and have pretty big store credit prizes (the first place one is 200 USD), and I've entered a few times, but I don't vote often because Spoonflower is such a huge site that there are frequently over a thousand entries and it's really time consuming to scroll through them all.
Ok, that's everything I can think of! I also put all my patterns on sone things on Redbubble, since they have options for repeating patterns on some things.
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cheerstotheelites-if · 1 month ago
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Life Update
I'm not dead, ya'll—
As you've noticed, I've been real quiet here and my last post was back in July. Uh, yikes. 😬
So, where have I been these past few months?
WELL, for starters, I've been busy with college since I managed to get back in (love you, grandma), and I've been busy making up for my bad grades because I had to repeat a year and retake some subjects I failed. So... there's that.
Second reason is that I experienced the worst dose of Depression in my life. It was last summer, and I wasn't happy and disappointed with myself and where my life was going at the time. It came to a point that I couldn't take care of myself proplerly (really bad sleep schedule, insomnia, refusing to eat to the point that I look so wasted, not wanting to take care of myself in general) and it went to a moment where I wanted to commit suicide, because I felt so ashamed of, well, me and my own failures. I had a note ready and everything, already committed to do the deed. Though, in the end, I'm lucky and grateful for the people that never gave up on me and helped me get out of that void. My Depression is still there, but I'm doing better now and hopefully continue to improve on that.
Speaking of, writing has been on hold because of that, writer's block, and dissatisfaction on my work. I like where Chapter 1 is going now, but at the same time I can't help but think that there should be something more and that the plot that follows after doesn't feel right to me. Though thankfully I've come up with a solution during my hiatus.
It's a rewrite. The answer is a rewrite. 💀
Not a full on rewrite, but just a few changes to the plot beats I initially had in mind. I'm not going to change Chapter 1, because for the life of me I won't be able to rewrite 26k+ words and the implemented code in Twine without getting a headache or two. But I will edit it a bit to make it flow better. Hopefully I'll be able to make some huge progress and update the demo soon in the near future.
In other news, I've been working on other things like that Discord server that's way overdue. I feel a bit more confident in being able to manage and handle a server, so I might as well try, right?
Sneak peek for the curious minded:
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I'm still planning to add more things, besides needing to digitize the custom emojies of the RO's and Emery. Maybe a few more roles and channels will be added, but Imma see where that takes me.
I've been dabbling back in digital art too, albeit few because of my busy schedule and I am working on Halloween art of the RO's that will be posted soon. Nothing too big, but here ya go.
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Aislinn and Lothric, oh how I've missed you both. 🥹
On the final piece of news, I'm working on commissions! Well, commission since it's only one for now, but I am thankful regardless. I am planning to open up headshot commissions and smaller, cheaper 500~1k word drabble commissions somewhere in the future. Though for now, if you wanna pay me $10 to write a 2k~3k drabble of your OC and another character from Cheers, then feel free to head over to my Kofi in the pinned post to commission me!
So, um, that's that. For now anyway, and I'm very excited to be able to work on this again after so long.
For those who has stuck around and has been patiently waiting, thank you so much for being here and for being so kind. I really am grateful and thankful.
– L 🫴🖤
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average-mako-enjoyer · 11 days ago
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N7 Month 2024: Day 2 - Reflection
Characters: Padok Wilks, Lieutenant Tolan, Urdnot Bakara Words: 908 Summary: The aftermath of Mordin's loyalty mission aka Salarian team that came to do the clean up finds the sealed lab with the fertile krogan on Tuchanka. Perhaps I should add a more optimistic ending to this one.
*** "Did they touch anything?" Padok asks.
"As far as I know, sir, they didn't." The shuttle shakes, and Padok's escort has to grab the railing to keep himself from falling. "But I wouldn't rule out the possibility of contamination. The agents who broke into the bunker aren't exactly in the habit of being… sensitive."
"I see."
Padoc turns to the porthole and catches his own reflection. His lips twitch in irritation. He hates unprofessionalism.
The moment Padok's feet hit the ground, he is immediately surrounded by barely organized chaos. The landing pad is swarming with agents busy loading heavy equipment into the open shuttles, someone is shouting orders in a high, already strained voice, and from somewhere in the periphery comes the unmistakable crack of assault rifles. "Doctor Wilks? Doctor Wilks?" Out of the crowd, barely avoiding a collision with the swaying loading platform that moves across his path, a nimble-looking agent runs toward them. Padok raises his arm. "That's me." "Lieutenant Guran Tolan, I'm in charge here. We've been expecting you, follow me." He immediately gets into motion again, and Padok and his escort have to follow. "What is the situation?" Padok asks. "There are nine subjects. Five are dead and in active decomposition; we believe Heplorn removed them from the clean area himself. Others – my people just found them, and we immediately resealed the area. We have no data on their condition."
"But your people entered the lab, correct?" Tolan gives him a quick look. "We wouldn't have found them otherwise." "I see." Padok clicks his tongue and closes his eyes against the howling wind, which keeps throwing dust in his face. "And what's with the shooting?" "Varren." The agent makes a disgusted noise. "The whole area is crawling with them. We cleared it out for the most part, but some of them are still coming." "Varren? Heplorn probably used them for tests," Padok has to jump over the piece of rusted armature sticking straight out of the ground. "I want them all killed and packed up, Lieutenant." "With all due respect, Doctor, I think you're mistaken. These krogan were probably just breeding them here." Tolan pauses. "Animals that breed other animals… Ironic, don't you think?" Padok's escort lets out a chuckle.
"I still want them packed up," Padok insists. "If Heplorn ever used them in an experiment, we need to know. We don't want a crude version of the genophage cure developing in the varren population, do we?" Tolan stops and turns to him. Padok must have hit a nerve, because he looks pissed. "We don't." "Good to know we're on the same page." Padok nods. "We cannot fail on this mission, Tolan. The fate of our race is at stake." "I am aware."
When they finally reach the building, Padok is immediately greeted with the sight of the already installed acid dispensers and the stacked body bags.
He counts. Thirty two. Not all are krogan. "Your people's work?" he asks. "No. This is from another group. They cleared the building ahead of us." "Another group? Did they enter the lab?" "As far as we know, no." Tolan makes a small irritated chirp. "They cleared the building, alerted us, and left." "Interesting…" "All the bodies have already been checked. None of the krogan are female. The cleanup team will start on them in a few hours." "What about the smaller ones? Humans? They can be test subjects." "No. Vorcha. Let's move on."
The building Heplorn has chosen to house his lab is a maze of long corridors, rooms with fallen walls leading to other rooms and more corridors, and at first Padok wonders how Tolan can find his way around, but after the third round Padok realizes that he is just following the blood splatter. Whoever cleared this place before the STG was very thorough, and Padok can respect that. But then the blood splatter stops and Tolan makes an unexpected turn that leads them to a long staircase.
"Watch your step, Doctor," he warns, and they begin to descend.
After the first flight, Padok notices voices coming from below. People talking, laughing, and apparently polluting the area. Another flight and he sees them lined up in front of the large glass wall that separates the clean area from the rest of the building.
"Attention, men!" Tolan shouts, causing some of them to jump. Then he turns to Padok. "Please, Doctor. The area is yours."
Padok walks past him, straight to the glass.
Behind it is a brightly lit room with two rows of hospital beds. The subject lying on the nearest one is obviously female: too large to be a male. She doesn't move.
'Dead?' Padok thinks.
His gaze moves further, and then he realizes what Tolan's men were staring at, what made them laugh and point fingers. In the far corner of the room, three female subjects are huddling together. Two of them are clinging to each other while the one, the tallest, tries her best to stand in front of them and cover them with her body. She's the only one looking at the glass.
Padok leans forward and their eyes meet. The female narrows her eyes and her throat quivers with an inaudible growl. Amazing.
"We need a decontamination area, clean suits and sedatives, Tolan," he says. "The sooner the better."
He steps back from the glass and catches his own reflection in it. His inner eyelids flutter. He feels... excited.
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cchanticleer · 1 year ago
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I'm still rankled by the lack of good refs for robin's clothes so i got more
As far as i know there's not a single bit of official art that shows them in their default tactician digs without their coat on so it's come to drastic measures, digging in to the actual models.
Fates, as seen above, offers the most complete look. In this version the coat is an entirely separate thing, and underneath it the clothes are fully modeled and textured. I used paragon to remove the coat; i'm not sure if you'd ever be able to see this all in-game normally. Maybe the coat goes away with clothing damage? I'll have to check later.
getting at things in other games is more of a pain, but worth looking into.
To be clear: I'm not looking at coat here, just what's underneath. TBH i was mostly personally interested in seeing what their golden collar bit is attached to. often when people draw robin's clothes they go off of this fan-made reference sheet, which adds a little mini jacket thing which i personally don't like the look of no insult to the creator it's just not my jam which is why i spent so much time trying to fine accurate refs while I always just assumed it was a part of the coat itself. Turns out we're both wrong!
I know the first model you'd want to look at is the one from Awakening itself, but unfortunately i couldn't find a rip of the model on first glance. BUT, while pulling usable models straight from the game files is out of my wheelhouse, i CAN pull the textures. So we'll look at that instead.
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Here's the body textures for f!Robin from Awakening. It's a bit tricky to parse, but from what i'm seeing the parts of the clothes that are covered up are unsurprisingly not modeled/textured. The skirt-thing is almost the same, though the gold band running across the middle of the back segment is smooth instead of having two sharp bends. Other than that I don't see very much of note.
Next: Warriors. I got the models from here. I haven't touched blender in years but i remember just enough to tear things apart and see what's underneath. Looking at unpromoted m!Robin once again.
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I only bothered to delete what was covering things on one side because it's all basically symmetrical, half's enough to get the idea. Again, my first priority was seeing what the collar was attached to, and it turns out the answer to that is "not much". They didn't bother modeling the whole thing, reasonably assuming that it'd never be seen. You can see that it's definitely its own garment separate from the coat and the top, but beyond that there ain't much. What we can see doesn't match the design from fates, though. I'd figure that it doesn't match because there's no point in adding details that no one'll ever see, but that's not where the changes end.
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Here's the lower body, where we can see that the back of the skirt-y portion is completely different. In Awakening (as far as i can tell from the textures) and in Fates it's two segments, the smaller front segment and a second, larger segment that wraps all the way around. In this, there's four, with a matching front and back and matching sides.
Also there's a few points on the belt section where things are clipping through each other, but i'm pretty sure that was a part of the model as i got it and not a result of my cutting things up. Whether that's how it is in game or something that's happened when it was ported to blender, i couldn't say.
Last is Smash Bros.
I'm gonna be honest i had sort of run out of steam at this point and since i didn't see any models that had already been conveniently formatted for blender i kinda phoned this one in.
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I looked around just long enough to see that a) there's even less of the collar piece modeled, it stops as soon as it's covered by the coat and b) the skirt-y thing is once again in two pieces. Here's the textures if anyone wants to try and parse em
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I guess there's also codename: steam
I am not going to check codename: steam
In conclusion i spent entirely too much time on this but maybe someone will be able to use this mess as reference idk
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cantareincminor · 3 months ago
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The Dross
I kept a file of discarded scenes and unused plot ideas as I was writing Orpheus. The very first scene I wrote was thrown into the pile, as I realized it didn't add anything to the story. After years of not writing, it took me such a long time just to get these few paragraphs down that I felt discouraged having to throw them away. But I am beyond glad I didn't give up then.
Just for fun, I may start posting more of these on tumblr, for the few who may be interested in the writing process for this story. Scene under the cut!
Around and around, she drew the sponge in progressively smaller circles clockwise toward the center of the dinner plate. She then repeated the motion outward counterclockwise. The plate was plenty clean. This was just what she did to clear her head when she felt frazzled. She did variations of this after her jobs. Scrubbing stains from her dress with her right hand, then her left. Swirling the fabric in the washbasin clockwise, then counterclockwise. 
The repetitive routine wasn’t enough today. Her hand slipped and the dish crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. The sting of broken skin drew a hiss between her teeth. 
She looked with dismay at the shards and white dust on the kitchen tile. Yuri’s fault, she thought. It wasn’t true, what he said about Loid cheating. And yet the words stung more than the cut on her finger.
Yuri said and did a lot of things in exaggeration, out of the unnecessary drive to protect her and keep her on a pedestal. She humored him most of the time, because there hadn’t been any harm in it. But since her sudden acquisition of a family, fake or not, she found she couldn’t give him such leeway anymore. He was going to cause harm, or maybe he already had, she couldn’t tell. Her husband was always so cheerful and accommodating, hardly betraying a hint of annoyance at Yuri’s antagonistic behavior. 
But this time, she had been the one to cause harm. She had almost winced at the look of shock and worry on Loid’s face.
I understand, Yor. You want me to show contrition through my actions. And I will! I swear to you, I won’t ever make you suffer like this again!
Guilt led her to slow down and avoid any more kitchen accidents as she cleaned up the broken plate. So far in their fake marriage she’d let Anya run away and almost get kidnapped, given both Loid and Anya food poisoning several times, kicked him in the chin and knocked him unconscious, and constantly fumbled in social situations requiring the grace of a proper housewife. And now she’d misled him into thinking he owed her an apology for a nonexistent gripe. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to prepare her own apology, hoping he would forgive the nonsensical lies she’d thrown at him.
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holycorrupt · 2 months ago
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if you have the time/energy to elaborate, what's your process like for coloring stuff you ink traditionally? i've figured out a few different methods over the years, but i generally stick to fully digital or traditional for a piece, so i'm curious to see how you do it! :0
This is such a fun question for me because I get to both ramble about my art process and have an excuse to throw some colors on this Breloom I drew ages ago.
I use Clip Studio Paint and an Ipad for my digital stuff so I'll be referring to the processes on that but I'm sure there is a work around for other programs as well :^)
I scan my traditional art at 400dpi because it's always easier to work bigger with digital stuff and resize it smaller then the other way around :^)
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So here's our raw scan, which already looks very decent but when I want to color something I like for everything to be much cleaner/sharper/more contrast-y and to get rid of the noise from the paper texture lmao. A well lit photo will also do the job because that's what I did for many years before getting my scanner but tbh if you're a traditional -> digital artist like myself a scanner is like a best friend you can buy HAHA
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First things first, I apply a Gradient Map Layer > New Correction Layer > Gradient Map
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Clip has a really nice black and white map preinstalled but I made myself a custom map just by pushing the black and white a little closer, it completely clears up all the noise and makes everything really crisp! Make sure you check on your lines when adjusting things because super fine feather lines can sometimes be lost if you make the contrast too high. Extra tip! If you want to make Graphite Pencil or Ball Point Pen really nice looking as well, just add a dark grey point in the gradient map closer to the black then middle...works perfectly :^)!!
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This is the point I look for stray pixels, cat hairs, ect and make sure to erase any surrounding doodles or sketches I don't want included.
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GOD DAMN Those lines are CRISP-Y!!!
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Next up we're going to want to go Edit > Convert brightness to opacity
Tbh If I didn't have this method idk what I would do with myself.... I've tried the whole "Lineart on top layer set to multiply" Method and ...ehh....
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Now that I have a nice transparent line art I'll stick a new white layer down below it because the checker pattern hurts my eyes LOL
I'm going to add a read more here since this post is getting lengthy haha
I'm going to quickly go over the style I use for MTE! It has been refined to be quicker and easier to do since you know...I have a week time limit per page ... 😭 I have a completely different way I do colors for other things I want to spend more time on but I might explain that one in the future...I'm running out of steam tonight LOL
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I use this really awesome brush pack that has a pencil like texture and I love it to bits...here's a link to it if your interested!
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At this point I might add some overlay layers or play around with an airbrush but I think this guys done for now :^) I tend to stay away from highlights with my shading for MTE..My biggest goal is to make sure everything is clear and readable! That being said I break my own rules all the time for special panels that need the extra 'oomf!'
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Slap a lazy square background and yay!! He's done!
Hope this was interesting aaaa Thank you again for the ask!!
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violetsandfluff · 2 years ago
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Holiday Homecumming
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summary: a student from your cousin’s college spends thanksgiving with your family
a/n: I got distracted while writing something else, so here we are !! this includes bits of the poem, sonnet 18 by shakespeare. also, kindly don’t criticize the title. i really [almost] tried.
tw: smut… family gatherings… stressful stuff, iykyk ; ) annnd this is written by a girl who has no clue how to write smut. that aside, i sincerely hope you enjoy!!
word count: 5k
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Family gatherings around the holidays were always a stressor for you. You had heard countless nightmarish stories of family gatherings gone wrong, and you weaseled your way out of every holiday you could, blaming an overload of work at university for your absences. After three years away, though, your family’s pleas for you to join their holidays once again seeped under your skin. In one moment of begrudging malleability, you agreed, and there you were in the back seat of your parents’ sedan, acting as a barrier between your two younger brothers.
Had Thanksgiving been a private event at your parents’ house with just your father, mother, and brothers, you would have attended in a heartbeat, but things could never be so simple. Your mother had bribed you to drive nearly three hours from your school’s campus by saying the event would only include your immediate family. She had then gone behind your back and reported that the five members of your immediate family would be attending Thanksgiving at your aunt and uncle’s house.
Having Thanksgiving with extended family is a nationwide tradition, but that didn’t make it any more bearable. Plus, the fact that your mom and aunt had been feuding until recently didn’t help anything. Your mother and aunt both had stubborn, inflexible personalities, making it nearly impossible for them to get along over extended periods. You just hoped the weekend you were to spend in close quarters with them wasn’t too much.
You had gotten up at the crack of dawn to get ready, pack your belongings for traveling, and make the journey from campus to your hometown by nine o’clock. At nine o’clock on the dot, you rolled into your parents’ driveway, where they instructed you to unload your car and pack your luggage into their trunk before you caused them to run late.
Repacking things into a small, travel-sized bag rather than a suitcase at such short notice proved to be stressful at best, and a few necessary items were foolishly forgotten in the haste of the moment. You hadn’t counted on riding in the same car as the rest of your family, even less on refereeing your brothers’ arguments during the two-hour drive, but against all odds, you arrived in one piece.
As soon as you set foot in the stuffy living room, you wanted nothing more than to run away and never return. The tiny house was already brimming with people bustling busily about, bumping into each other and apologizing over the noise of the kitchen and football game. In fact, everything was so noisy no one noticed your family’s arrival.
You had assumed Thanksgiving would consist of a smaller group of people, but alas, it seemed your dad’s entire side of the family had decided, stupidly, you might add, to cram themselves under one roof to give half-hearted thanks for those they pretended to love.
At family gatherings like this, people usually divided themselves into four distinct groups. There were those who worked in the kitchen and dining room, cooking food and setting the table, and those who locked themselves in the guest room and gossiped until the food was ready. There was a group who planted their asses on the sofa to watch tv until dinner, and a group of children who ran around like a pack of rabid, bloodthirsty coyotes. These games always ended in someone crying and others screaming their sides of the story, desperate for their shrill voices to be heard. Needless to say, they never learned, or they wouldn’t partake in such activities repeatedly.
There was never much peace during family gatherings and you thrived best in silence. The constant ruckus made it difficult for you to concentrate on any given task and it made your head pound in frustration. On top of that, the heat of all of the bodies crammed into one house meant that the heat was turned down if not completely off, making for a cold night as it kicked in again.
The only good thing about the situation was that you, as an adult over the age of twenty, no longer had to sit at the kids’ table with your cousins. Instead, your grandmother set you a place between your aunt and your younger cousin, Sadie, the only person at the table under the age of twenty.
When the whole family had been rounded up and seated, there was someone you didn’t recognize. At first, you assumed he was a cousin you hadn’t laid eyes on in a while, but you soon realized that all of your cousins were there as well. He was seated directly across from you, meaning you had a good view of his features as you tried to recall who he was.
He wasn’t even vaguely familiar. He didn’t share features with any of your family members, nor did he share verbal traits or characteristics. He had a low, smooth voice and a surprising accent that only served to fascinate you more. You nearly asked who he was, but if you asked, he would probably turn out to be a long-lost cousin or something. So you held your tongue, listening to every bit of conversation happening around you in hopes that some fragment of speech would jog your memory.
At one point during the meal, your cousin, Joshua, who was seated next to him, noticed that he’d hardly said a thing all day. It finally dawned on him that no one knew who his friend was.
“This is my friend, Harry,” Joshua stated as soon as he had everyone’s attention. “I met him at uni recently and all of his family is abroad, so he’s staying with us this Thanksgiving.”
Harry had skillfully tousled brown hair and gorgeous green eyes. His face was dizzyingly pretty; every piece of it fit together immaculately. His dimples complimented his smile flawlessly. He was wearing a simple pair of black jeans and a white shirt that would show off his toned body and tattoos had it not been for the flannel he wore over it. You had many questions for him, and it seemed as if everyone else did, too.
Inquiries began bombarding the guest as he tried his best to answer each one. Where was he from? How old was he? What was he studying?
By the end of the meal, you knew his full name was Harry Edward Styles, occasionally nicknamed Hazza by his friends back home. He was only twenty-two years old, studying abroad from London, and going to school for a master’s in psychology. He had a proper, educated way of speaking and an air of insight laced his every word.
“He seems incredibly dreary,” you heard Sadie mumble under her breath. Oh, how wrong she was.
Something about him, whether it be his presumable intelligence or mysterious green eyes, drew you in. Many times he caught you staring at him, and each time you were forced to make an excuse on the fly. Questions raced around your brain at thousands of miles per hour. Was he staying overnight? Did he have a girlfriend back home? Would he be attracted to a girl like you who, in a flurry of haste, forgot her toothbrush in the back of her car?
You told yourself not to be ridiculous, but your questions weren’t at all ridiculous. When a strange, attractive man shows up to your family’s Thanksgiving, you have every right to ask questions.
After the meal was over, you and Sadie disappeared into the kitchen with your mother, grandmother, and several aunts while everyone else returned to their cliques. Josh, Harry, and some of your other cousins retired to the basement where all of the video games were kept at such gatherings and the stampede of wild children resumed where they’d left off before the mid-afternoon meal.
Your grandmother put you in charge of wiping down the chairs at the children's table, out of presumable spite, but you did as you were told, not wanting to rock the boat. After you finished, you strode reluctantly back to your grandmother for another task. Instead of asking you to help put away dishes or store leftovers, she took you aside to the quietest corner of the dining room.
“Y/N,” she said diplomatically, “you are twenty-one now. Correct?”
“Yes,” you replied with a nod.
“You are no longer a teenager, therefore you have no reason to spite our family. It wouldn’t hurt you to attend gatherings and parties every once in a while. I’m sure you’re out doing it with your friends every other weekend. It’s your life and I can’t tell you how to live it, but just know you have choices. You can spend holidays with your family, those who love you, or your friends, those who only want you to get drunk.”
“Grandmother, I mean this in the most respectful way possible,” you began, “but I’ve spent the previous two Thanksgivings alone in my dorm with a weekend of homework.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” your grandmother agreed, “and I appreciate your hard work. However, I believe that family should come before your studies.”
You certainly did not expect that from your grandmother. All you could do was nod and utter a sincere apology before asking if there were any more tasks that needed doing.
Though there were no jobs left to be done, you remained in the kitchen with the rest of the clean-up crew, as you had labeled yourselves. Every other part of the house was overrun with sugar-hyped children, grumpy men passed out after eating more than their fill of turkey, and busybody women reliving their peak high school years through gossip from twenty years ago.
Standing in the kitchen, listening to the others bickering and griping was completely draining, but there wasn’t anywhere else for you to go except the bathroom. You felt guilty occupying the house’s sole bathroom for a prolonged period, but if someone knocked on the door, you would pretend to flush the toilet, wash your hands, and come out.
Unfortunately for you, your plan wasn’t so foolproof. You made the mistake of leaving the door partially ajar as you sat on the edge of the tub, fully clothed, killing time with your phone.
Harry pushed the door open thoughtlessly, gasping and apologizing immediately upon seeing you.
“I’m sorry,” you stuttered as he pulled the door shut. “You can come in. I’m just wasting time.”
You scurried out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. You kept your head down so as not to attract unwanted attention from your family.
~~~
Later that evening, after many of your relatives had left, you went outside to where your parents’ car was parked in a vain attempt to carry all of their baggage in singlehandedly. Two trips later, all of your family’s suitcases, as well as your measly backpack, were soundly inside the house. After the luggage was secured, your aunt sat down to enlighten you about your sleeping arrangements.
The guest room would go to your parents and your brothers would spend the night in the living room. The accommodation made for you was Sadie’s bedroom floor.
You had spent enough nights in a room with Sadie to know that she snored comically for a girl her age. As funny as it was, though, the humor vanished from the equation quickly when your exhaustion was factored into it.
“Can’t we sleep in the basement?” the elder of your two brothers pleaded. “The couch down there is comfy enough.”
“Josh and Harry can join us,” your youngest brother pressed. “They can make sure we don’t get into mischief.”
Your aunt cast your mother a contemplative gaze and your mother shrugged. “Your house, your rules.”
“I suppose,” your aunt declared. “You can sleep in the basement, so long as Josh and Harry go with you.”
“Why do Josh and Harry have to come with us?” your brother pouted.
Your mother cast him a stern glare. “Because aunty said so.”
Your brothers rolled their eyes in simultaneous resignation as you internalized a cheer of your own. Your brothers sleeping in the basement freed up the living room sofas for you to nab.
“Do you mind if I take the couch out here?” you asked nonchalantly.
“I don’t see why not,” your aunt responded. “You’re an adult now, y/n. You can choose where you sleep.”
“Don’t you want to share with me?” Sadie frowned.
“I would, but I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” you fibbed. “I wouldn’t want to wake you if I got up in the middle of the night to use the restroom or get a drink.”
Sadie shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
~~~
Around ten o’clock, your parents sent your brothers, Josh, and Harry downstairs for the night as they took their turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Going to sleep that early proved to be quite a challenge for you, especially considering the fact that homework didn’t allow you to sleep until past two am on good nights. By the time it was your turn in the bathroom, you realized that many of your toiletries had fallen out of your bag when you’d repacked earlier that day.
You were lacking face soap, hair ties, and worst of all, your toothbrush. You made do with what you had, using makeup remover and water to clean your face and you gargled toothpaste in a crude attempt to freshen your breath. You assumed your position on the couch feeling less than satisfied with your nighttime routine, but there wasn’t much else you could do without using anybody else’s toothbrush.
You settled into the couch cushions, pulling your blanket up around your chest. The couch was positioned close enough to an outlet that your phone charger could reach, so you decided to busy yourself with your phone until you were tired.
Time flew by as you checked in with friends, played various games, and listened to your favorite music. You almost didn’t notice when the basement door clicked open. You turned your phone’s volume down all the way, just in time to hear a flushing toilet and running water in the bathroom. You craned your neck to see who it was. Your breath caught in your throat as you made out Harry’s silhouette in the darkness, which was lit up only by streetlights. He appeared to be wearing only a pair of boxers and a tight, long-sleeved shirt, and his hair made it evident that he hadn’t so much as laid down all evening.
“Can’t sleep either?” he asked, noticing the blue light radiating from your phone.
“No. I’m not used to sleeping this early.”
“Me neither,” he admitted. “Uni really fucked up my sleep schedule, y’know?”
“Tell me about it,” you laughed, your chuckle turning into a choke in a matter of seconds as he sat down at the end of the couch you were sprawled out on.
“What are y’going t’school for?” he inquired politely, turning his body to look at you more comfortably.
“English,” you croaked.
“What year are you?”
“I’m a senior.”
“Graduating soon, hm?”
“Hopefully,” your voice wavered.
“Not going so well?”
“I mean, it’s going fine. I’ve just been a pessimist lately,” you rambled.
“I get it. Any idea what you want to do after graduation?”
“Teach, most likely.”
“Any age in particular?”
“High school. What about you?”
“What age would I like to teach?”
“Um, no.” You cleared your throat nervously. “I know you’re going to school for psychology, but what do you want to do once you graduate?”
“Psychology,” he grinned.
You sat up against the foot of the couch so you and Harry were facing each other. You pulled the blanket tighter around your lower body, trying desperately not to stare at him. Even in the moonlight, you could make out his gorgeous features.
Harry nodded. “What’s y’favorite aspect of English and literature?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard. You took a moment to process his inquiry before answering. “Poetry,” you said after a long pause, hoping you wouldn’t come off as a complete idiot.
“I love poetry!” Harry’s eyebrows raised. “D’you write poems?”
“Sometimes,” you admitted.
“Can I hear them?” Harry begged.
You cleared your throat and licked your lips slowly, feeling a wave of heat rush to your face. “They’re not very good,” you managed, “but I know other people’s poems.”
“That’s alright. You don’t have to, ’m just curious.”
A comfortable hush fell over the room as you racked your brain for poems to recite. You had memorized them by the dozen when you were in high school, but something about Harry made your memory glitch. Inhaling a sharp breath, you began reciting the only poem you could think of; nothing less than Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.
Harry listened to you with his ears and his eyes, which were intently fixated on you. He pierced your eyes with his beautiful green ones like you were the only person in the world. He waited in silence for a moment after you finished, allowing the words to sink in before scooting closer to you. “Tell me another one.”
Next, you told him a story that your grandmother had read to you as a baby, a lengthy poem interpretation of the story Thumbelina.
He listened intently as you described the events in the way they had been told to you years ago.
“You’re a fantastic storyteller,” he said genuinely when you finished. “Can I hear one more?”
You opened your mouth and recited the first poem that came to mind; one that you had written. The words spilled from a place deep within you, establishing a connection with Harry that the others hadn’t. Even he could sense the difference between that poem and the last. Your poem’s words came from a vulnerable, genuine place within you that only you knew… until then.
“Wow.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” he gushed. “Who wrote it?”
You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly admitting, “I did.”
“You’re amazing,” he breathed in awe.
Harry lowered his face until it was nearly touching yours. His lips came breathtakingly close to yours before you suddenly placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you blubbered. “I left my toothbrush in my car and my car is at my parents’ house. But I remembered my toothpaste.”
Harry chuckled in amusement. “Don’t worry about it,” he grinned, moving closer in an attempt to kiss you again. “You can use my toothbrush f’you want.”
“Really?” you squeaked, praying he couldn’t hear the hammering of your heart. “I wouldn’t want to, you know…”
“I don’t mind,” he persisted. “Let me go get it.”
“You don’t need to,” you stammered.
“If it will let you kiss me, I do.” He ducked into Joshua’s bedroom, which was conveniently empty thanks to the basement slumber party, and removed his toothbrush from his backpack. He made his way back to the living room on tiptoes so as not to disturb anyone who was asleep.
You accepted his toothbrush gratefully, taking it into the bathroom to clean your teeth as thoroughly as possible in the little time you allotted yourself. Once you were satisfied with their cleanliness, you returned to the couch, passing Harry’s toothbrush back to him.
He wasted no time lowering his lips to yours and kissing you deeply. His tongue dipped in and out of your mouth, exploring it gingerly. His left hand roamed up your back, settling in your hair while his right hand remained steadily on your lower back.
As wonderful as the kiss was, you couldn’t help but crave more. You poked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear, and he took the hint. A hint of wariness gleamed in his eye, but you assured him you took the pill religiously.
Soon, you were both pantless and more ready for each other than anyone else.
You barely got any time to admire Harry’s naked body before he aligned himself with your glistening entrance and thrust in. He shifted his body until it was under you before bucking his hips up into you.
You both gasped at the sensation.
Harry’s hands were both positioned at the lowest part of your back with his thumbs on your hips, digging into them slightly for grip.
He drove his cock into you, pulled it out, and thrust it back in, letting its sharp point pierce your entrance repeatedly.
“You’re so tight,” he mused as he felt your walls flutter around his length. “My love, is my cock getting to you already?”
You shrugged in partial embarrassment as he let out a soft chuckle.
“No shame in that. Your tight little walls are making my tummy feel full, too.”
Just as you were about to respond, your eyes fell on his nipples. Your head was resting just above the first set, so you hadn’t noticed the second, less prominent set below.
Your hands were sandwiched between Harry’s warm, smooth back and the velvety fabric of the couch, meaning you couldn’t exactly move them to play with his nipples. Instead, you resorted to pursing your lips together and blowing to create a more concentrated stream of air.
“I can feel your arousal dripping all over me already.”
Throughout his dialogue, Harry’s thrusts became weaker and more bearable, but as soon as the last word was out of his mouth, he gripped your shoulder and began pushing his cock in harder.
You moved along with it, shifting around him and bucking your hips into his to give him maximum friction, coaxing a strangled sort of moan out of him; the first of the night.
“Feels… good,” he breathed shakily, trying to keep his thrusting pace constant. “Fuck, darling, just like that.”
You shifted on top of him so his cock speared directly into your g-spot. You couldn’t help but moan as his lips traveled to your ear, where he began to pepper you with microscopic kisses, breathing sensually into your ears all the while.
A shiver ran down your spine as his nose nudged into your ear, but you could hardly enjoy the sensation before his cock re-entered you from a different angle.
“Sit up, lovie,” Harry instructed. “Want you to straddle me now.”
Soon, you were sitting on his lap with your legs crossed behind his back as his girthy cock pulsed deep inside you. The new position gave you both a better view of what was happening to your bodies.
“Look how puffy your little clit is,” Harry remarked, his face breaking into a wide grin. “My darling bud of May.”
Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, thinking about him remembering the poems you’d recited earlier.
“Recite the whole line for me, love,” Harry requested as he lowered his fingers, along with his cock, to your entrance.
“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”
Harry’s fingers began working at your clit as his cock continued thrusting into you.
A soft moan escaped your lips as your head fell back against your neck, but Harry urged you on.
“Sometimes too hot the eye of Heaven shines, and often is his gold complexion dimmed. And every fair from fair sometime declines, by chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed.”
Harry smirked at the unintentional innuendo as he jabbed his dick harder into you. “Keep going, darlin’, please,” he coaxed.
“I… I can’t, Harry, please,” you stuttered breathlessly as you tried to recall the famous poet’s masterpiece from deep within you.
“Need me to slow down?” he asked understandingly.
“N-no,” you replied, “I remember now. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st. Nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade, when in eternal lines to time thou growest.”
“Good memory, bunny,” Harry praised. “You’re walls are fluttering so much. Do you need to cum?”
“Yes, Harry,” you whined.
“Finish the poem, then we can cum together.”
You took a deep breath before shooting out the final two lines as fast as your lips, teeth, and tongue would permit. “So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this and this gives life to thee.”
“Good girl. Cum now.”
You relaxed every muscle in your body, allowing all of the arousal to spill out of you. It mixed with Harry’s, creating a milky pool on the blanket beneath you.
Your eyes fluttered shut and your body twitched uncontrollably as your insides relaxed to let every last drop of arousal out. Your abs ached and your head throbbed as you waited for the climax to wear off.
“Atta girl,” Harry rasped, inhaling an unsteady breath. “You did good, doll.”
“So did you,” you replied awkwardly, cupping his pecs in your hands as you faced him.
“D’you like what you see?” Harry teased good-naturedly. “Are you more of an ass or pecs girl?”
“Pecs,” you responded after a moment’s contemplation.
“Coulda guessed,” Harry shrugged. “Me too. I’m more of a tits guy than an ass guy.”
“You know what I like more than asses and pecs?”
“Dicks?”
“Thighs,” you giggled, tracing your fingers down the insides of Harry’s smooth thighs.
He was practically purring as he watched your fingers roam freely around his sensitive thighs. Goosebumps prickled all over his body, stemming from his thighs.
“Feels good, hm?”
He gave you a lopsided smile, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you through smiling-squinted eyes. He held his arms open for you and you were in them immediately, hugging him back with your face buried in his shoulder.
“What are we going to do about this?” you asked sluggishly, beckoning to the soaked blanket beneath you that had acted as a barrier between you and Harry and the soft red velvet of the sofa.
Harry looked around in the relative dark for a moment before snagging the extra blanket from the back of the couch. “Did they give this to you to use?”
You nodded, swallowing nervously.
“Take this for tonight. I’ll make up an excuse for why this needs to be washed.” He pulled the soiled fleece from under you and folded it tactfully so its contents were on the inside.
“Kiss me one more time?” you begged softly, suddenly aware of the fact that you and Harry could be walked in on at any moment.
“No need to ask twice.” Harry smiled boyishly. “You’re delicious.” He wrapped one arm around your back and placed his other hand on the back of your head to steady it.
Neither of you wanted to break the kiss, but you mutually agreed to back away from the kiss lest anyone walk in on you.
“Here’s y’shirt,” Harry said cheekily as he handed your crumpled camp t-shirt back, giving your breasts one final jiggle.
He pulled his long-sleeved white shirt over his head and you took the opportunity to ruffle his hair affectionately.
“‘M gonna go back downstairs now,” he commented sullenly, forcing a smile onto his face. “So… I’ll see you in the morning?”
You nodded faintly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears welling up in your eyes.
He noticed, but he didn’t address them directly. Instead, he let out a low hum before pressing a hot kiss to your forehead. “Lie down and roll over,” he instructed gently.
You rolled over so you were facing the back of the couch, spooning one of the decorative cushions your aunt had given you to sleep on.
Harry pulled the blanket up to your chin and busied himself combing out your hair with his fingers. He organized it into a messy braid, tied it off, and gave your shoulder one final pat.
“Can I have your number?” you asked, your voice wavering as you struggled to contain your tears. “My phone’s on the bookshelf by the outlet.”
“What’s your password?”
As soon as Harry was into your phone, he added himself to your contacts and turned it back off.
“Text me as soon as you wake up, but for now, it stays off. Okay?”
“Thank you, Harry.”
There was no response. All you heard was the basement door opening, then clicking shut. He descended the staircase as quietly as possible with the bundle of blankets secured in his arms.
The digital clock on the other side of the room informed you that it had been less than an hour since Harry came up the stairs for the first time. Somehow, it was still earlier than you usually fell asleep, but that was alright because Harry had exhausted you.
A few hot tears trickled down your cheeks as you wondered if Harry was actually into you or if he’d given you his number out of politeness. You wondered if you would unknowingly be the cause of some innocent girl back in London being cheated on. You hoped not.
You also hoped that no one would find out about your and Harry’s late-night encounter. Either way, though, what was done was done and there wasn’t much you could do about it. You snuggled farther into the couch cushions, pretending they were Harry, and fell into a sound sleep.
Even in your sleep, though, the memory of the night you’d spent with Harry haunted you. The sex alone wasn’t any more pleasurable than anything else you’d previously experienced, but the natural connection between you was undoubtedly there. All you could do was hope and pray that you would get the opportunity to do it again.
Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut
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falderaletcetera · 10 months ago
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brownie update: swirling crunchy peanut butter through the batter is great. swirling it through only when it's already in the pan, so you get attractive golden marbling and a distinct top layer of crisp crunchy peanut butter brownie goodness, is even better.
(original recipe)
general notes:
— if adding peanut butter, you might need to heat it up a little in the microwave to thin it out enough first. the weight recommended for nuts in the recipe works fine.
— you can in fact substitute both eggs for one banana - I blended it rather than mashing it because I don't like lumps - and yes the result does taste like banana.
— you can also substitute butter for oil: use around 7.5 tablespoons. you might need to add a few tablespoons of water to make the mixture behave; butter does have water in it too. (I started doing this because I like shelf-stable ingredients and kept doing it because lactose intolerance. ideal.)
— personally I deliberately overbake these a touch because I've had too many "oh that's a volcano in the middle" Underbaking Events, and even aside from them, the middle pieces can be very soft.
— you can use a 9" round cake tin if you don't have an 8x8 square tin - it's almost exactly the same area and I've tested it - it's just a bit of a faff to cut up neatly. any tin smaller than the one recommended will lead to Underbaking Events no matter how much extra time you add.
— in british terms the oven temp is pretty much 160 C. don't use fan.
— I have never bothered with vanilla (I don't bake often enough and time is fake so it's a "blink and it's expired" situation) and it's fine
— the "pop it in the freezer for a bit so it cuts neatly" advice in the recipe is magic, actually
— these freeze fine! just keep the pieces separated if you want to defrost them individually.
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but-what-if-we · 1 month ago
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Bliss
Sitting in the breakfast nook near the kitchen, the larger form sips from a steaming cup of coffee gazing out of the window admiring the rays of sunlight breaking through the cloudy morning. The coffee was freshly made along with the almond cherry muffins cooling on the nook's polished wood countertop. The earthy smells that filled the room were among the larger forms favorites, the types of favorites that you could smell everyday without any form of fatigue. Taking a brief moment, the form becomes lost in thought. Thoughts of how happy they are with their life, how they finally feel like they have purpose and how good it feels to be with the smaller form, encouraging them and supporting them throughout this crazy thing called life.
The larger form snaps back into the moment after hearing the sounds of a door opening accompanied by soft footsteps.
Good morning beautiful, I made muffins and if you want I can make you some coffee that won’t at all taste like coffee. 
The larger form motions to the muffins as the messy haired smaller form groggily moves into the kitchen. The smaller form takes a warm muffin from the basket on the countertop joining the larger form in the nook, kissing the larger form’s cheek as they sit.
Good morning, do you remember that “coffee” you made for me last sunday? The one with chocolate and vanilla, that one wasn't too bitter. I’d like to try it again. Did you use regular coffee or espresso last time?
The larger form rises from their place at the nook, planting a kiss on the top of the messy haired smaller form, moving into the kitchen to gather the ingredients to make the smaller form their drink. They add water to the small espresso maker to use the steaming wand built into it, prep the cup with chocolate syrup and a small amount of vanilla syrup before grabbing milk from the fridge and placing it into the milk foamer. 
Last time I did use regular coffee but it was a medium roast. We have a few options for medium roasts and I picked up vanilla and toffee flavored light roasts for you to try. Do you have a preference on which I use?
The larger form holds up several small bags of coffee, doing their best to display all of them at the same time. The smaller form looks for a moment and points to the toffee flavored light roast as they munch on a piece of muffin. 
Let me try the toffee flavored one. Honey this muffin is really good, how early did you wake up to make these? Please tell me you didn't stay awake just to make these muffins.
A slight look of concern passes over the smaller form’s face as they move to stand from their spot in the nook. The smaller form moves into the kitchen as the larger form prepares their coffee, wrapping their arms around the middle of the larger form hugging them from behind.
The larger form, pausing the drink preparation, turns in the embrace so that they are facing the smaller form, meeting their slightly concerned gaze with their own loving one. That the smaller form is vocal about their worries for the larger form's health and wellbeing is a gift the larger form will never take for granted.
I did sleep for a few hours, I just fell asleep in my computer chair and when I woke up to get some water you were already sound asleep so I got another hour on the couch. By the time I woke up that time it was early enough that I thought muffins would be a good idea and these turned out really well.
The larger form leans into the stretching smaller form, lips matching together like puzzle pieces and arms squeezing gently but with the firm message to never let go. The smaller form places their hand on the cheek of the larger form, a loving smirk now adorning their face they turn and return to the nook pulling out their phone beginning to scroll through social media occasionally announcing something interesting they had found. The larger form completes the smaller form’s drink after a few minutes, placing it on the polished counter for the smaller form before returning to the kitchen to make themself another drink. The two forms sit, chatting together in their own quiet little section of life, enjoying each other's company, affection, and presence.
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troutfur · 1 year ago
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Sknce you're in need of more female character promots: I'm on a weird Frostfur kick and would kill for a piece from your frost/lion/tiger/golden polycule au with her feelings, particularly after book 5 when Tiger has maimed 2 of her daughters and killed her sister.
I also have a prompt involving Goldenflower in the askbox that would go really, really well as a companion piece to this one. So I'll be trying to tackle these two to finish up days 19 and 20. I do best with talky fics so I'm gonna need her to be there to provide a back and forth. And it's a good way to add some tension and exposit a bit about the things going on with the pfurr dynamic concept that make this one so fascinating.
(Want a chance at having your prompt picked for one of the last 10 days we have of November? Check out my guidelines and submit it. The more I have to pick from the better.)
Even outside the medicine den Frostfur could still smell the distinctive tang of blood. It clung to the insides of her nostrils like a tick to an elder’s fur. And in every moment that she couldn’t see to her daughter it bit, it bit without any chance for her to lodge it out.
She’d seen how her children had reacted, Brackenfur, Thornpaw, and even Cinderpelt barred by Yellowfrang from disturbing her, from spending their every waking moment observing, fretting, getting in the way of the delicate care Brightpaw required right now. She had to be firm with her now adult children, make them control the immense grief they felt for their sister (and their brother, Frostfur thought, they did afterall grew up with him as one), set the example even though she desperately wanted to give in to the same impulse as they were feeling.
Yellowfang updated them daily and Fireheart continued to brief the whole of camp on the situation out on the territory daily as well. And with both of them the situation seemed at an impasse. It wracked her with anxiety. How long would it be until Brightpaw is beyond recovery? How long would it be until someone tried the same thing as her daughter? How long could they still live like this, the thorns erected to protect them turned into a cage?
As Frostfur pondered these questions, seated upon her nest despite the sun at its height, she saw from the entrance to the warriors’ den a distinctive golden tabby pelt. “May I share your nest for a few moments?” she asked, bowing her head.
It had been quite a few moons since they stopped sharing one. It was now much smaller than when it was four of them. Still she shuffled aside and did her best to make room for the larger queen.
A part of her wanted to be furious with her, tell her that she had rejected her children from the moment she had denied to denounce that bloodthirsty traitor, that she had been the one to put them on his crosshairs. But that really wasn’t fair. Tigerclaw had joined the golden littermates in their nest first. And it had been her decision to seek entry into Lionheart’s nest rather than the other way around, even if Brindleface would’ve been amenable to the idea.
nd Goldenflower hadn’t really had a choice. The only other sire in her nest she could name would’ve been her brother, so between staining his reputation, raise suspicion around her loyalty, and just letting the Clan carry on assuming what they already were she simply let it all take its course. At least that way she knew she hadn’t made her predicament worse.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t notice earlier,” Goldenflower began. “It was... I really don’t even know how I failed to realize it, how I couldn’t see the warning signs, the hostility between my brother and him, the--”
“I don’t blame you,” Frostfur said with a sigh. “It’s not going to help Brightpaw get better... and it’s not like I was any better in that regard. I could’ve noticed as well. It’s also my fault.”
Goldenflower solemnly nodded, wrapping a paw around her former nestmate to bring her into a hug. “Faith in StarClan is all we have right now. And we mustn’t give it up lest we end up like Bluestar.”
“Faith in StarClan is all we have,” Frostfur echoed. “I have my own apology to offer.”
“If anything that should be me,” Goldenflower replied. “I left you when you needed me most. And even if in the eyes of the Clan I would no longer be a pipfurr to your children, between us I could always be.”
“Still it was an inconsiderate thing for me to do,” Frostfur replied.
“We can talk more about that and how it made me feel after Brightpaw is doing better,” Goldenflower said, pushing her into her chest deliberately. “For now please do not carry that burden. Now is not the time.”
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alterchaos · 5 months ago
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Hi everyone! I’m back with another update!
After watching the poll this past week, I am happy to officially announce that Alter Chaos will be continuing in writing as a full and complete story!
I’m honestly so excited to put my attention and effort into making sure this story is written with proper love and care. I feel like a novelist! ♡ Since I no longer have to put equal focus on the art and visuals, I plan to really take my time plotting everything out, closely revising my pieces, and sharing a wider range of stories to help build the world and central lore better. With that in mind, there are a few specific things I want to point out:
1. I would like to go back to the drawing board on most elements concerning Seven Rings and the Moonbeast Saga. I won’t be altering the central plots but I was never fully satisfied rushing through these stories given the limitations the technical/art focus placed on my imagination. Seven Rings especially needs more attention, as I originally planned to go through every boss and adventure with Sinbad and Ali Baba, but rushed it for the sake of continuing the following saga. I even want to rewrite the saga’s ending to be more in line with this structure and to be a proper build up for what follows, so only expect the original pieces to be posted after I get to that more as a bit of behind the scenes than anything.
Moonbeast, thankfully, just needs some tweaks and rewrites to the script apart from the arc that was already posted (Roses - Tears). The central plot for this saga in particular has gone through MANY changes and variations since the beginning of this series. For instance, I ditched the Chip/memory plot in favor of a more unique storyline concerning the mysteries of the world known as Gaia (I’m especially excited to reveal more details on that). I need to go back with these ideas and properly lay them out, every detail, to ensure this saga maintains structure and a more natural sense of progression.
2. Since I will be reworking these sagas, I would like to pick up all the way back at the start, following Tale of Two Brothers and work from there. I had already written the immediate next episode/chapter and plan to post that alongside a drawn one following Party Hardly. From there, I may not write a full chapter for EVERY episode of Sonic X, but most, including some brand-new tales to add to the mix.
As we work through these stories, I also plan to write smaller side chapters called Mobius Adventures. These will revolve around side games such as Sonic Rush and Sonic Riders, or even little unique stories such as Silver eating a chilidog for the first time or Chaotix detective/band shenanigans or Eve helping out in the town etc. I want these stories to flesh out Mobius as a world not too far removed from our own despite the crazy adventures. It will also help more pivotal and central plot elements hit that much harder (muehehehee♡).
3. I can’t promise a weekly schedule, so I will be posting when I feel like it from now on. One week I may be free and want to write 3 chapters and another week I may be offline. Who knows. What matters is enjoying the adventure and having fun! ♡
4. Just because this path won the poll doesn’t mean I will never draw or post things such as random pages or character art. They will just be rare. I at least plan to share what I already sketched out when I post their respective chapters and will also be finishing a certain chapter (coming soon) in comic format since I was almost done, it’s my favorite episode in the show, and the physical comedy would be lost in writing.
5. I will release a couple posts/documents in the future laying out a proper timeline for the series as well as important lore elements to help readers keep track of the world and plot at large. I’m also learning more about how Tumblr functions as a site and may be experimenting with extra blogs/sites to create pages or “tabs” to help organize everything. If any major changes are made to my blog, I will be sure to send updates to help you all locate where things have moved. My goal is to make chapters as easily accessible as possible rather than being forced to scroll through months of posts.
That’s all I have for now. Thank you all for reading and supporting this series and I will see you all in the next post! ♡
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tigerspite · 8 months ago
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Truth & Dare:
🍓
🍄
🔪
🦷
🏜️
🍦
🧩
...🪲
Thank you!!
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 
It was pretty much a compulsion to show something to the world and show people what I could do, honestly. I grew up reading fic and was so impressed by a lot of it, eventually leading me to claw my way up to improving my own writing and publishing. It's to get ideas out of my head and on to paper so I can do something with them.
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
Already answered!
🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?
Pass. I have literally no idea. I've researched so much over the years.
🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on
If something is too hard or you're hitting too many obstacles, you're doing the wrong thing. You need to turn around and try again. It might be that you're going about something the wrong way, or that specific something could be the thing that's wrong and isn't meant to be.
🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
I love when people have an insight or share their views on something a character has done. It leads to so many interesting avenues being opened up that I'd never considered before!
🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate
I forgot every character I ever hated, and also don't want to go into witness protection right now.
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
First person perspective UNLESS the prose is done well. Honestly prose construction is everything to me and I'm incredibly picky. If something doesn't read right to me then I can't get through it or I enjoy it a lot less. There's no hard or fast guidelines to this. Sometimes things just don't stick with me.
🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here
This sounds weird out of context but an enlightened few will get what I'm finally using here (also it's 102 words)
“This piece is from the ‘Rain-and-Sauce’ era of humanity’s development,” Ursaviks stops in front of a painting of two humans leaning over the bank of a deep blue river, with a three headed dog lying beneath the scene. The person closest to the riverside holds another, smaller human by its ankle, dangling them in the water. “One of Solkis’s humans was a historian. They spoke of this painting showing the mother of Akileuks, and how she blessed him with strength.” Wesraaks cannot even pretend to understand the picture and its significance to humanity, nor how Akileuks and the small human could be connected.
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bountyhaunter · 9 months ago
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TIMING: A day or two after ‘What If…’ LOCATION: Ball & Chain Forge PARTIES: Rhett @ironcladrhett & Daiyu @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: Daiyu goes to see Rhett at the forge to talk about a custom knife order. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!
It was important for her to buy her own weapons. This wasn’t something Daiyu examined closely — she just knew that the need was there and that she answered it. She did understand her desire for financial freedom, however, and that this probably tied into it. The Volkovs were the rich type, after all. Upper class. Made rich through the exploitation of beasts and shifters and any other shady thing alike, fingers stained with blood money. Family money was a collar and leash, though, a way to yank and keep people close.
Because money bought happiness. Money bought knives, handmade and silver. Money bought independence, autonomy. And so Daiyu was determined, if not gleeful, when she set foot into the forge. When she met the warden called Rhett who looked like he’d known better days. Regardless, they shook hand and exchanged pleasantries (not many, neither of them the type) and got to the meat of the meeting. Daiyu tried hard to not get distracted by all that surrounded her. It was a cool place. It almost made her drool. She was already thinking about what other things she’d like to commission. 
Daiyu got bored easily, after all. New weapons were a good way to keep the hunt (and with that life) exciting. “Alright, alright,” she grinned, “I’m curious to see this prototype.” She held up a hand, that soon disappeared into her jacket where her favored knife was sheathed. Custom-made, too, both the knife and sheath. “This is the one I prefer to work with now. But I want something smaller — preferable ones I can double wield, ya know?” Her eyes flicked around. “This place fucking rocks, by the way.”
Rhett lacked the usual spring in his step when it came to weapon design, and that wasn’t just on account of the iron leg. This was going to be his last one, and that understanding tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d have to give the young hunter a good reference for one of the other blacksmiths so she could keep patronizing this place in his absence, but he’d make sure this piece was one she truly loved before kicking off. He was a man of his word, after all. 
Taking the knife she’d brought from her, unsheathing it and turning it over in his hands to give it a careful inspection, he nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, can do that.” He ran his fingers along the blade, his gaze raking over the weapon. It was quality, a nice piece. He could do better, of course, but it was very excellent besides. Passing it back as ideas started to form in his mind, he leaned back on his stool and reached for a leather pouch on the work table beside him, flipping it open and pulling out a hunk of silver that was dagger-shaped, but lacked any detailing or a grip. 
“Can work this down into somethin’ smaller, like ya want. Here, I got some hilt options…” He started pulling out other finished knives that all had different styles to them. “Pick ‘em up, give ‘em a few swings, aye? See what feels good for weight n’ the grip. Can work out the details to make it unique to ya after that.” He sniffed, nodding his head over toward the corner of the room. “There’s a dummy back that way, if ya wanna see how it feels in action. Take yer time.”
Maybe she should try to get into weapon making. It was the other hunter who’d told her, even if it was indirectly, that perhaps she needed to add another skill to her arsenal. Besides, Daiyu liked custom weapons. She had turned a regular shotgun into a sawed off one before she’d turned eighteen, so who knew — maybe there was something to gain there. But for now, she was just antsy to try a few knives. Her eyes kept passing to the Warden who did have quite the reputation, it turned out. Daiyu preferred to go off what she was given at face value rather than whispers at a hunter bar, though. 
She eyed the options with wide eyes, lips curling up, “These are awesome, did you make all of ‘em?” Greedy fingers reached for two knives, both hands wrapped around their hilts, testing their weight. “Nice.” She put them to the left, tried two more. One was discarded immediately, the other joined the other two. Daiyu knew what she was looking for, though she was making a mental wishlist in her mind at the same time. She’d have to ask Rhett if he had any references for bows.
After a quick selection, she moved over to the dummy, turning the knives in her hands and launching them into the dummy’s neck. It wasn’t often she fought humanoid creatures, admittedly — she preferred to hunt shifters when they were shifted and besides, she was most often on the tail of various beasts. Daiyu released the knives, mimed the gushing of blood and grinned at the warden over her shoulder. She spent a short while retrieving the knives and slashing a few times, but it didn’t take her long. She was made for impulse decisions and purchases. Returning to the table, she extended one of them, hilt towards the warden. “This might be a good one to go off. I dig the look of it. Slips nice and easy in the palm, but also offers enough of a grip, y’know?” 
“Aye, over the years… decided if I was gonna start takin’ custom orders, oughtta have a few things fer the ol’ portfolio.” Rhett watched her pick them up and test how they felt in her hands, making note of which ones she seemed to prefer and parsing out why that was based on how she held them. His gaze followed the young hunter when she went over to the dummy, and watching her mimic a few attacks and subsequent blood spurts actually brought a slight smile to his face. He couldn't help but remember when he'd been as young and full of vim and vigor as she was now, and it was comforting, in a way. He was a relic, but there'd always be more hunters to pick up the mantle. 
Still wearing the smirk, the old warden accepted the blade of choice back from her, nodding in agreement. “Thought ya might prefer this one.” From there, he reached for his sketchbook and flipped it open, starting with a rough drawing of the hilt of choice. “What kinda blade shape you want? Hawksbill, tanto, guthook…? Here's a few, in case ya ain't familiar with the names.” He flipped back to the beginning of the book and produced two pages full of different knife blade styles, pushing it toward her. 
The concept of a retired hunter was a rare one, but Daiyu found it a comforting thought. It wasn’t quite like she wanted to leave this life behind, but the concept of perhaps retiring towards something else after years of fight was something she might like. Maybe not even for herself, but at the very least for her uncle who always seemed so weighed down. (She didn’t expect to live to an age of retirement, anyhow.) “That makes sense, yeah. So you’ve been doing this a long time, then?”
She had never been the best at retaining knowledge and learning, but when it came to these things Daiyu had been quite good at remembering. She knew the fight, the grit, the violence and the tools it took. Sometimes it seemed it was all she was good for. And so she didn’t have to look at the book of blades to answer the question, “Hawksbill would be perfect,” she said. “Might have to step by for another set or something soon. Got some nice shit here. And this town, well… Crawling with stuff.”
Her question was answered with a slow nod, and after a moment of thought, a few words. “Grew up on it. Trainin’ under masters’ah the craft while I hopped from town to town. Huntin’ didn’t always pay well, ya see… needed a skill I could use anyplace.” Chuckling approvingly at the swift decision, Rhett flipped back to his concept drawing and started to sketch. “That it is, that it is… won’t never run outta quarry, it seems. Good to have folks like you in places like this.” He sucked in a sharp breath, pressing harder on the pencil as he made the stroke for the edge of the blade. “Afraid I won’t be around after I finish this for ya… but the folks what own this place, the twins, they’re damn good smiths. Can make ya anythin’ ya like, won’t balk at no kinda requests. I’ll let ‘em know to give ya a discount.” He lifted his head, cocking it to the side as he looked at the drawing so far. Next was the hilt style, which he started in on as he spoke. “Which, speakin’ of… this order’s on the house.” It wasn’t like he needed her money—any that he already had had been left in a place in Emilio’s apartment where he might find it someday, or maybe whoever moved into that shithole after him. Didn’t matter, so long as someone had it. 
Hunting had always paid her family quite well, but then they’d had ties in all kinds of murky corners. Daiyu didn’t want to know how her father and the men before him had acquired their riches. It’d make her feel too much like them. She did wish she’d learned a practical skill like this, though. “So you moved around a lot? Cool. We didn’t stray very far, mostly stuck around in Washington. Lotsa woods to protect there.” They’d flown to other corners of the world where family lived, but her world had mostly been those pines and mountains.
She watched the other at his work, a little envious. She supposed she could try and pick something like this up, but Daiyu hated learning things she wasn’t immediately good at which was why her skillset remained limited. “Ah, hopping town again? Can’t blame ya, this place is a little bonkers.” She liked the chaos though, so far. “I get it, I don’t stick around long places either. And hey, I’ll take those discount tips.” Her lips curled into a grin and it almost faltered when he said it was on the house. A kindness. Those always got lodged in her throat. “Whoa, man. You don’t have to. Are you sure?”
“Aye. Was born on the water, didn’t have much of a home fer a while that weren’t the inside’ah that boat. Instilled me with the need to migrate, I guess. Weren’t a bad life.” 
The finished product was coming together on the page, and Rhett’s gaze lifted from the drawing to meet hers. “Don’t need money where I’m goin’, kid. Got no use fer it. You might as well keep it.” He cleared his throat and pushed the drawing her way, tapping the pencil on the paper. “Pick a material for the hilt, n’ if there’s any personal flares ya want—engravin’, a replaceable scale, whatever, lemme know now so I can work it into the design. All said, she’ll take ‘bout… mm, twelve more hours or so to make. Can do it all in one.” Wasn’t like he was sleeping, anyway. “Have the order ready for ya by tomorrow.”
“What?” The word was drawn out as she was genuinely intrigued, not having met many hunters who were based at sea. “That’s cool. Way more original than being born on regular schmegular land, that’s for sure.”
She was looking at the drawing with an eager, growing interest. Daiyu had tried drawing but as she lacked natural talent (if that even existed), she’d given up in frustration. She didn’t like failure, but she could appreciate another person’s skill. Most of the time. “Alright, cool. Thanks.” She hit her head, then pointed. “Am only saying that ‘cus I know you’re not fae.” She gave a shit-eating grin. “Wood handle, something dark. Don’t need any special things beside it, ‘tis the blade that matters most.” She doodled on her weapons when she was younger, which had been considered a personal affront to her neat father and not just because she was a shit drawer. “Tomorrow, cool! I’ll be here.”
The thanks and subsequent joke earned her a good-natured scoff, and the man leaned back on his stool. “Perish the thought,” he muttered with a smirk, marking down her request for a dark wood for the handle. 
Reaching out a hand to shake, Rhett cleared his throat. “You ever get a hankerin’ for somethin’ else’ah mine, I do got a few pieces put up in Chet’s shop, Fable Blades. He buys products from this forge pretty often, can just ask him to show ya ol’ Rhett’s work n’ he’ll set ya up. He’s a retired warden too, so, y’know. Good people.” Rising to his feet, the man showed Daiyu back toward the exit, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. “Seeya tomorrow, kid. N’ be careful out there, aye? Don’t fly too close to the sun.”
She decided she liked this Rhett. He looked like the very image of a withered, alive against all odds hunter and yet he still humored her yapping. Daiyu liked her hunters with a bit of humor. “Awesome, I’m gonna do that. If your piece satisfies, you know.” She missed the innuendo for a beat, then let out a ha as if to make it seem like it had always been her intention to make a dirty joke. Bravado came easy these days. “Got no doubt about that, though.”
She grinned at him as she moved out of the shop, giving him a salute. And people dared say she didn’t respect her elders! “See you tomorrow. I’ll try my very best not to. You too, aye?” 
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gar-a-ash · 6 months ago
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Alrighty, seminar thoughts!
-Overall, great experience. New training group was great to watch and I learned a lot of really subtle things I can't quite write down. Things like how to work a flirt pole better, tips for switching a dog from defensive drive to prey drive, ECT.
-I thought seeing all these nice protection dogs would refresh my desire to have a "proper" protection dog and I'm actually very happy to see that it didn't. I'm very happy with how I started Tassie and I intend to do the same with the next one. As he said in the beginning, it is very difficult to have a good sport dog and a good house dog in the same creature without years to settle in to the role. I had that with Reese and I don't want that again.
-On that note, this group spoke an entirely different training language for me and adjusting to each other was very difficult. There's absolutely nothing wrong with how they choose to start their dogs, I just do not intend to follow suit. To use balloons as a metaphor, they start their dogs by rapidly inflating the balloon and if it pops then they'll spend a ton of time fixing the pieces back together until it's a balloon with some problems again. Vs how I start my dogs, where I pinch the neck on the balloon and slowly inflate checking on the structural integrity along the way to ensure that it's properly inflated with no damage. I am not saying either way is better or one way or wrong! It's just two different ways of handling these very intense dogs and I like the way I do it better for what I want with my dogs.
-And still using that balloon metaphor, this was the only thing that annoyed me the whole weekend. It's no one's fault, again two very different training methods, this is his first time ever seeing me and my dog, and I absolutely am not offended or upset with him. I'm just irritated at how this happened but I'm not upset that it happened because I understand where the confusion was. Day One he tried to activate Tassie as a brand new dog and when Tassie didn't engage properly he said that Tassie didn't have it in her. I tried to give her permission to engage in the beginning, because Tassie is trained not to engage unless given permission, but I was told not to speak or she'd rely on me for everything. Which is fair, but what he was doing was trying to add air into a balloon that was already inflated and comfortable with the pressure so when there was no reaction he saw it as a lack of drive. Reiterating that I am not upset with his call, I understand that these two training languages are going to cause a bit of conflict, I'm just annoyed that Tassie was caught in the middle trying to figure out the rules of a whole new game in an entirely unfair situation. He did get her to engage in a stunningly short amount of time, but it wasn't fully because Tassie just didn't know the rules of what he was trying to play.
-Extending off of that into Day Two, our first run went a lot like the first day, and for my last run I informed him that I wanted to expose her to pressure first and then release her to prey drive. So I brought her down and did a heeling pattern to get her warmed up, then he had a few people move into the field. We started with them standing still and me heeling close to them, then they started moving around and pushing up to her, and this is where he started to get thoughtful. We switched to doing recalls through a line of people standing facing her and walking towards her, then T posing and walking towards her, and then crab walking towards her, and she was definitely uncomfortable but worked through the pressure by herself. Afterwards I called her into a heel and sat while he approached her other side, and we did have to correct the position a few times as he made the space smaller and smaller but by the end he was leaning into her ribs quite a bit (I was losing my balance lol) while Tassie ignored him and kept her eyes on my face taking food still. Once she was settled into the pressure fine I called it there and we switched back to the flirt pole.
-And the difference! He pulled it out and she started tensing up in excitement but still watched me, and when I released her into prey drive she was GREAT. Willing to deal with the pressure of new people, great possession, everything she should have been allowed to do on day one. He corrected his opinion and told me that she actually had a ton of drive, we just need to work her more, and he called someone else to practice their flirt pole skills with her as she continued to engage with new people once released. The dealing with pressure and engagement with high stress was what I was looking for from the seminar and we got it. Slightly disappointed we didn't get to do barking but next time I'll stand up for her better and get her into it.
-Overall, very glad I went. While Tassie didn't get everything she could have from this I got a lot to get her going better. There were a few foundational things I misunderstood and I have to go back and rework (I don't want to say mistrained because the stuff I did wrong was still good, she's just missing some elements), but I can do that at home. The problem is I NEED a second person to do it properly and there's very few people in my area that are dog-savvy and also willing to work with protection dogs. I.e., there's actually no one local to me but there are a few people I can do baby stuff with before finding the time and funds for a private lesson to go bigger. I fully intend to go to the next seminar with him, he did great work with her and I want to see what she can do with someone like him.
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