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hellspawnmotel · 2 days ago
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Question: I notice on your Deltarune posts you focus on a lot about relationships and gender roles and such. May I ask why exactly? Just curious as to why find this aspect of this game so particularly interesting? Is there anything else you find interesting about DR?
well. first of all yes I find many other aspects of DR to be interesting lmao. the discarded vessel, the conversations ralsei and kris have when the player isnt looking, the dreemurr-holiday family split, anything surrounding dess, the connections to undertale, what gaster's goals are, susie's potential, kris's whole everything.... but as I've said before, I don't really like making predictions outside of themes and character dynamics. and I feel that for most of these things, I don't have enough information yet to really dig my teeth in analysis-wise, or else I don't have anything interesting to say that hasn't been said already.
as for why I fixate on the theme of gender so much.......
it just happens to be a theme I'm extremely drawn to and interested in
idk if I've ever vibed with a single character as much as I do noelle. it's like she and all her aesthetics were made for me specifically to love. and noelle is..... at least given the context of the weird route, she's kind of a girl of all time? not just in terms of being a great character, but her position represents femininity in fiction to me in the same way as like, rei ayanami or anthy himemiya. she's very much herself but in the eyes of the narrative and the viewer she becomes every girl to ever live. she's turned into a symbol. all girls are like the rose bride. there's just already so many layers and so much to analyze about it- not just from the game itself but how the audience receives and reacts to the game.
I'm a woman
my absolute favorite genre of video games is JRPGs from the 90s and 00s and let me tell you something about that. I could name more games that I have stopped playing after getting hours in specifically because the way they handled their female characters pissed me off so much, than games that I've come out of feeling like the girls were written at all fairly. how women are written in this genre, and in fantasy at large, is something I already thought about all the time. and deltarune is very much based on games like that! it's not the only thing deltarune is based on but it's the thing I personally have the most experience with. and given what we've been presented with so far, I actually feel pretty confident, for the first time in my life, that deltarune is going to continue to do right by its female characters and have interesting things to say about women in JRPGs, video games, fantasy, and fiction in general, if only in the abstract. it's something I've been dying to see done well specifically in this setting, this genre, and this medium for years. and I'm gonna revel in that as much as I can.
......writing this I forgot that you also said "relationships" and not just gender roles lol but that answer's a lot simpler. I just love watching and writing character interaction. and again, it's something I can iterate on a lot despite not having the full picture yet. it's fun and cool.
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Everybody’s on the Call Line (Jason todd x gn!reader)
Humor, fluff, established relationship. whole batfam gets involved. Reader is a hacker
This happened because I read the latest coffee shop au from @jjenthusee (and you should too!) and I remembered that I can also write cute fluff. So here this fic is, straight from my drafts where it’s been languishing for months. Anyway.
Swearing, as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is
———
Jason eases himself carefully onto the fire escape, metal creaking beneath his boots. He stifles a groan. He’s taking a risk sneaking into your apartment like this, he knows he is. If you wake up and see Red Hood snooping around outside your window, you’ll probably call the cops. But he’s tired as all hell, patrol was long and stupid, and your apartment was closer. Jason will just slide in while you’re sleeping, stow his gear where you won’t find it, and collapse into your bed. In the morning, he’ll just say he let himself in with the spare key you gave him. Easy. All he has to do is disable the window alarm he’d gotten for you, and then he’s home free.
The alarm trips, and Jason moves to silence it but then realized it doesn’t matter, you’re still up, working at your computer.
He freezes as you glance over your shoulder, then turn around to face him. He still has his gear on. Shit.
“Uh, hi,” you offer, looking at him with a curious glance as he races to figure out an excuse. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”
This throws him for a loop. You’re reacting very well to a vigilante crawling through your window at 2:30 in the fucking morning. But you’ve given him an opening, and he’s going to take it.
“No,” he says shortly, wincing behind the helmet. He’s never spoken to you like this and instantly hates the tone he’s using, but he’s got a persona to keep up. Or something.
You nod, seemingly unfazed. “No worries. Do you work with Red Robin?”
What? Why are you asking about Tim? Do you have some secret Red Robin crush that he’s going to have to push Tim off a building for?
Dumbfounded, Jason answers, “Uh, sometimes?”
You nod again. “Do you think you could give something to him for me?”
What the shit is happening right now?
As if to help tip Jason’s world off its axis, you’re interrupted by a tap at the window. Jason looks to see Red Robin crouched on your fire escape. You wave him inside.
“Hey, Escher,” Tim says. “Hood.” Jason has no idea what the fuck is going on.
“I’ve got the script,” you say, holding out a flash drive to him, but Tim shakes his head. “No good. They updated the security.”
“Well, shit.” You turn and dump the USB stick into a glass of water on your desk. “It’s a paperweight now. Only took me five hours to figure out.”
“I know,” Tim says, clearly frustrated. “They keep outmaneuvering us.”
Wait, wait. Jason’s still three steps behind you. “Escher?” he demands.
Both you and Tim turn to look at him, frowning. “Like, M.C. Escher? But, spelled ‘emcee,’” you say, as if that explains anything. “It’s my screen name.”
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah, we work together.” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”
Jason shakes his head, and Tim looks at you for a flash of a moment before turning back to Jason. “Sorry,” he mouths, shrugging. Jason waves him off. He’ll deal with that later.
Tim turns back to your computer screen, but your eyes stay on Jason, narrowing. “What does it matter if we work together? Do I know you from somewhere?”
Shit. You were always too sharp for your own good. Jason’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. “Uhh…”
You fold your arms over your chest. Behind you, out of your field of vision, Tim grins at Jason, delighted. Asshole.
“We don’t normally work with civilians,” Jason says, fishing for an excuse.
You sniff, rolling your eyes. “And yet, here you are. Which, the way, you haven’t explained. What are you doing in my bedroom?”
Fair. What is he doing in your bedroom? Would it freak you out if he said he was a burglar? Too late for that now.
“I told him to meet me here,” Tim says, pulling Jason’s ass out of the fire. “Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”
You shrug. “S’okay,” you say, spinning back around in your desk chair to face the screen.
Over your shoulder, Tim mouths, “you owe me.” Jason gives him the finger.
“Do you have a safe copy of the new security system?” you ask, looking at Tim intently.
He shakes his head. “Not yet, Oracle is working on duplicating it.”
You slump down in your chair. “Drat. I hate waiting.”
“Yeah,” Tim sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest. “She said it’d be ready in a few hours.”
“Balls.” You fidget with a pen on your desk.
“Hold on. How did you start working with Red over here?” Jason asks. He knows you work in tech, that you’re a programmer, but he didn’t realize you were building code for fucking Batman.
Tim laughs. “I found them solving random problems on a Swedish forum.”
Jason blinks. Okay.
“Well, yeah. You found me there. Oracle found me hacking your comm links,” you grin, pleased with yourself.
Holy shit. “You got into the comm links?”
“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied. “I’ve done it twice now,” you add smugly.
“Don’t tell B,” Tim warns. “He doesn’t know. Oracle said she wouldn’t tell.”
Wow. You must be the real deal. He wonders if he can get you to fuck with Bruce’s plans, just to be a shit. "How long have you been working for the Caped Crusader, then?"
"I don't work for Batman," you say primly, as Tim sighs. "I help him out when you guys can't get your shit together."
Jason snickers under his breath. "Sore subject, huh?"
"They don’t like B," Tim confirms from the floor. "If you did it would make everything easier," he grumbles.
"It's stupid," you insist. "Come on, how is this a viable solution to any long-term problem?"
Jason laughs outright as Tim sputters. "He's a detective! He detects!"
"Then why does he have to dress up like that?" you point out. “You can be a detective in normal clothes, you know.”
"He needs armor, he keeps getting shot at!"
"Explain the cape, then," you shoot back. "Justify that monstrosity."
"It's fucking idiotic," Jason adds, piling on gleefully. "It'd be different if he could fly, but he just hops around."
Tim gasps, affronted, while you crack up in your chair. "Thank you. I mean, look at yourself, Red. You're sitting on my bedroom floor in a goddamn cape."
"It looks cool," Tim says defensively.
"No," you counter, "that looks cool." You point your finger in Jason's direction, and he feels his face heat up.
"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs. "You think his costume is cool?"
"Uh, yeah," you say, eyes taking Jason in as you nod. "Very cool. Very hot."
"Oh my god," Tim mutters. "It's tactically stupid. Why are his forearms exposed?"
"So I can see how muscley they are." You stare at them, eyes wide. Jason coughs awkwardly, and your eyes flit back up. "Sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I like leather."
"Of course you like his costume," Tim mutters under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" you shoot at him, and Tim flusters. "Why do you care if I don't like your costume?"
"Yeah," Jason adds, letting some menace fall into his voice. "Why do you care if they don’t like your costume?"
"I didn't—I wasn't trying to—"
"I have a boyfriend," you interrupt, looking at Tim scornfully.
"They have a boyfriend," Jason parrots, grinning behind the helmet.
"Oh my god. I know you have a boyfriend. Relax," Tim pacifies you. "Relax," he adds, nodding at Jason. Jason grunts.
Before you can argue further, there’s another tap at your window, and Cass slips softly into the room. You light up. “Hello, my love!” you greet her excitedly. Cass raps you on the top of your head, and you beam up at her. Your hands twitch toward her before you stop yourself, folding them in your lap. Cass turns to Jason, placing her hand carefully on his arm. He bumps against her, waiting until she pushes back lightly. She then moves onto Tim, tugging gently on a lock of his hair, before depositing a flash drive on the desk. You snatch it up eagerly.
From Oracle, Cass signs.
“It’s O’s duplicate!” Tim plucks it from your fingers, driving it into your desktop.
“Be nice to her,” you warn, running a hand over your computer as the file loads. Strings of code write themselves across your screen. Jason moves forward to get a better look at you. He can’t help it, he wants to see you in action. Your face is scrunched up, tongue between your teeth as your eyes flash back and forth, following the cursor. “It’s incomplete.” You squint at Tim. “What gives?”
Tim tsks. “I don’t know. Let me get Oracle.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Oracle, come in.”
Barbara’s voice answers in Jason’s ear. “Here. I know, I know, it’s not all there,” she says, annoyed. “Let Escher know that I had to reverse engineer it from what we found.”
“She says she has to reverse engineer it,” Tim repeats.
You drum your fingers on the desk. “Okay, what else does she know?”
“What else do you—”
“Hold on, this is stupid,” you interrupt. “Can you, like, put her on speaker? Actually,” you click over to another screen, enter a command. “You’re broadcasting live, O.” Jason hears Barbara’s sigh through the speakers of your computer. “That’s three times,” you add smugly.
Jason let’s out a low whistle. Damn. You’re really good at this.
“We've got to stop meeting like this, Escher.” Barbara almost sounds amused. “How did you get in this time?”
“Hiya, babe.” You click back to your project. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. I don’t want you closing your back door.”
Barbara chuckles. “Red and I will shut you out.”
“But for how long? I’m too slippery, baby.” Jason almost blushes underneath his helmet. It always trips him up when you talk like this.
“I had to reverse engineer the code from what it spit out when I tried to get in this time,” Barbara explains. “Can you fill in the gaps?”
“Some of them.” You type quickly, deleting code as you get error messages and retyping just as fast.
“Wait, here…” Tim points to something on the screen.
“Yeah, okay,” you back up to where he’s pointing and add something.
“There’s something about the updated security,” Barbara adds. “I think there’s a pattern somewhere.”
“Where?” you demand.
“I don’t know. Gut feeling. But I think I’m right.”
“Do you think there’s something generating new code?” Tim asks. “Like, a program that’s spitting out new security?”
“Oh.” Your fingers still on the keys, face relaxing. “Yeah. Good call, Red.” You scan the code again, scrolling back to the top. “Okay. This changes things.” You start from the beginning, erasing whole sections of Barbara’s work and typing out new code. “Well, shit,” you laugh under your breath. “This is some sexy-ass code we’re looking at.”
“You can fill in the blanks?” Jason asks.
You glance up at him. “Of course I can. I wrote it.”
“What?” Tim shouts. “This is you?”
“It’s me,” you confirm. “Guilty.” A small smile plays around your lips. “Sorry.” Cass steps forward, pinching your ear until you yelp.
“Fuck, Escher.” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were a traitor.”
“Chill, bird brain,” you say defensively, leaning out of Cass’ reach. “This was from, like, five years ago. I needed some cash.”
“You could be on B’s payroll,” Tim offers.
You snort as Barbara huffs a laugh over the comm line. “Fat chance, I’ve been trying to convince them for months.”
“I’m not a fucking lapdog. I play by my own rules,” you insist.
“Yeah?” Jason can’t help but push you. “And what rules are those?”
You cock an eye at him warily. “The rule of not tying my kite to some lunatic.”
Jason nods. Can’t argue with that one.
“Anyway,” you turn back to the computer. “Because I wrote it, I can build you the malware.”
“To get past the security or to neutralize the program spitting out new code?” Barbara asks over the line.
“Dealer’s choice,” you say, then stick your tongue between your teeth as you squint at the screen. “I can make both happen.”
The comm crackles in Jason’s ear. “Oracle, come in,” Bruce barks.
Tim whips his head toward you with a crack. “Nothing from you now, Escher,” Barbara warns. “I’m patching him through.”
You grin, eagerly pretending to zip your lips.
“Here,” Barbara answers.
“I heard from one of my informants,” Bruce’s monotone growl fills the room. Jason catches you roll your eyes and almost bursts out laughing. “They’re going to get into the controls for Blackgate prison.”
“This is Black Mask?” Barbara clarifies.
Bruce grunts as your eyebrows shoot up. “This is Black Mask?” you whisper, except you’ve never been very good at whispering. Tim slices a hand over his neck to silence you as Jason moves to your computer. He’s been eyeing the program you’re using to broadcast the comm connection, and he thinks he’s found the mute button. He taps a key and then turns his head toward you. “Off?”
You nod. “Off. Thanks. This is Black Mask’s security?”
“Yeah, he’s making a move against the jail. He’s going to get some of his guys out,” Tim explains.
“Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You tap your fingers against your chin.
“What?” Tim folds his arms over his chest.
“I originally sold it to the Falcones.” You flick your hair out of your face. “Guess they sold me out behind my back.”
A security program that’s making its way through the mob? That’s…really useful, actually.
“Can you get in and stop them?” Bruce asks.
“Maybe,” Oracle hedges. “Hold on, I have to call in reinforcements.” She mutes Bruce’s line. “Escher, you’re up.”
“Wait, you want it now?” you say, aghast. “Christ, how long do I have?”
“Act quickly.” Bruce orders. “My intel says they’re moving at 3:45am.”
Your eyes fly to the clock on your monitor. “What the fuck!” you screech. “That’s in forty minutes! I can’t do it in forty minutes! I have to break through my own walls!”
“Escher,” Barbara starts, just as Tim says “listen, you have to—”
“I can’t, it’s not enough time!” you wail.
“Hey, hey,” Jason cuts in. “Easy. Don’t worry, love. You can do it.”
You look at him fearfully. “You haven’t even told me what to do!”
“Just get past the security,” Jason says patiently. “Don’t worry about shutting down the whole program.”
You nod at him, eyes wide.
“Deep breaths, now,” he instructs. “Come on, in for two, hold, out for four. We’ll do it together. Ready?”
You nod again.
“Okay.” Jason sucks in a breath, loudly so it’ll register over the modulator. You copy him, inhaling, holding, and exhaling on his rhythm. After a few breaths you shake your head, turning back to the computer.
“Alright. I can make it happen.” You resume typing, eyes narrowed as you focus.
“We’re alright, B, I’ve got someone on it,” Oracle says, satisfied.
Tim turns to Jason, clearly impressed. Jason shrugs. You’ve been together for a while now, he knows how to pull you out of a spiral.
He turns back to you. You’re ripping through code at a hundred miles an hour, hunched over the keyboard. Jason grimaces, he’s always trying to get you to sit up straight to help your tech neck. He’ll have to rub out the knots in your shoulders later.
Jason feels Cass’ eyes on him, and he tilts his head toward her. Less than forty minutes, she signs to him. I’ll have to take it back to the Clocktower.
Jason’s thought of that. He evenly points his chin in your direction. You can handle it, he knows you can. Cass nods.
Tim coughs quietly, and Jason raises his head to look at him. “You want the keys to the castle?” he mutters.
He means code you built that generates new security programs. Jason nods. “But that’s just between us, yeah?” It would be loads easier for Jason if he keeps the code out of Bruce’s hands. Black Mask has been operating in Jason’s territory, and Jason has a long string of investigations against him, well-beyond the scope of this Blackgate shit. Bruce needs to keep his nose out of it.
Tim scoffs. “Fine. Seems like you should get first dibs anyway.” He nods towards your desk where you’re still working stubbornly.
The room is silent, all three of them letting you work. After a few minutes, Tim steps toward you. “Here, you need any hel—”
Jason throws an arm out to stop him, just as Cass grabs his wrist and tugs him backwards, shaking her head. He holds up his hands in surrender.
Fifteen minutes later, you rap your knuckles on your desk. “Oi, peanut gallery!” You spin around in your chair, smiling wickedly. “I solved your case for you!”
“It’s not a case,” Tim mutters, and Jason scoffs.
“Don’t be jealous, RR,” Babs says over the line. “You can both be the prettiest.” Tim splutters as you laugh delightedly.
“Nice job,” Jason says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You grin up at him. He catches Cass and Tim share a look, sees her sign something too fast for his eyes to follow.
“Batgirl’s bringing it to you now, Oracle,” Tim says as you unplug the flash drive and hand it to Cass. You wave to her as she slips through the window.
“My backup came through,” Babs reports to Bruce. “They’ll be obsolete in a few minutes.”
“Copy.” The line fizzles as Babs cuts him off.
“Fuck yeah,” you grin in satisfaction. “Nothing like hearing that overgrown Bat say ‘copy.’”
Jason cackles as Tim rolls his eyes. “Oracle,” he says loudly. “Hood was in the dark about our friend here.” His eyes flick to you before he looks at Jason meaningfully.
And just what the fuck does he think he’s doing? Jason all but snarls at him.
“Huh. I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that, Hood,” Barbara admonishes.
“Shut up, O,” he grumbles. Jason glances at you to make sure you haven’t caught on to what they’re talking about, but you don’t seem to be paying attention; you’ve pulled up Steam and are scrolling through your game library.
“Maybe it’s time to clue them in. Take off your party hat,” Barbara says meaningfully. Tim nods forcefully.
“Butt out,” Jason says half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stick. He’s been thinking about telling you about Red Hood anyway; you’ve been together for a year and a half. He’s been…well, he’s scared. But maybe he shouldn’t be.
“We’d have to vote on it,” he says gruffly. Tim pumps his fist in the air. “In person,” he says meaningfully. Comm links aren’t safe, apparently.
“You have my vote,” Babs says confidently. “And Batgirl’s, too, she’s here.” Barbara pauses meaningfully. “I’m happy for you, Hood.”
“Me too!” Tim pipes up immediately.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waves them off, like his heart isn’t pounding. “Can you call everyone over?”
“Roger that.” Barbara seems pleased. “Hood is asking us all to meet near him,” she broadcasts aloud. “Sending you coordinates.”
Dick, Steph, Bruce, and Damian all copy. Jason steels himself. “Alright, RR, time to go.”
You glance at him as he moves toward the window. “Heading out?”
“Yeah,” Tim answers. “Got a big family meeting to get to.” He grins at Jason.
“Okay. See you around. Nice meeting you,” you say to Jason, before turning back to your screen.
“Uh, yeah,” he says uncomfortably, while Tim snickers. “See you later.”
The troops have already assembled two rooftops over. “Hood, what’s the situation?” Bruce asks sternly.
“The situation,” Tim starts happily, “is—”
“Hold on,” Jason cuts him off. “Disconnect comm links.” He watches warily as everyone takes them out of their ears.
“Compromised?” Dick asks with concern.
“Uh, yeah.” Jason scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, uh…” he looks at Tim helplessly.
“Jason’s dating Escher.”
“What!” Dick screams as Steph claps her hands together excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating anyone?”
“Uh—”
“Fuck, yeah!” Steph interrupts. “This is great! Escher’s the freaking best!”
“Language,” Bruce says as Jason takes off the helmet to glare at Steph accusingly.
“We play Minecraft together,” she explains. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”
“Wait, hold on. I thought you all knew about that.” Jason shifts his glare to Tim.
Tim shrugs. “Only me and Babs knew,” he says.
“Timmy, why didn’t you share!” Dick groans, bounding over to ruffle Jason’s hair.
Jason pushes him away, trying to swipe his feet out from under him. Dick dodges easily, throwing a light right hook in return. “Wasn’t any of your business, now was it?” Jason says gruffly.
Tim looks at Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to get on his bad side.”
“Fair.” Dick grins softly at Jason, bumping shoulders with him. “Nice job, Little Wing.”
Jason blushes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Congrats, Todd, but why are we all here?” Damian interrupts.
“I’m gonna tell ‘em,” Jason says simply. “About this. If it’s cool.”
“Fine with me,” Steph says instantly.
Tim nods, “seconded. Babs and Cass say it’s fine with them, we asked before we went dark.”
“Well, who am I to stand in their way,” Dick half-jokes, but he’s looking at Bruce with serious eyes. So is Jason.
“I’ll follow Father’s ruling,” Damian says stoutly.
That leaves the big man himself. Bruce smiles gently. “Of course, Jaylad. We’re all happy for you.”
Jason blushes all over again. “Thanks, old man.” He lets out a breath.
“But we have to ask Duke,” Bruce adds meaningfully.
“I texted him, he says it’s fine,” Tim says quickly. “But also, uh—” he holds his hand to his ear.
Warily, Jason puts his comm back in. “Jason, what the fuck!” you shriek. “What the fucking fuck is this!”
“I forgot to disconnect,” Babs says sheepishly.
“Jason, you ass! Why didn’t you tell me you ran around in a fucking costume?” you shout down the line. Steph and Dick keel over laughing. Jason realizes everyone has taken the liberty of putting their comm back in.
“Baby, please,” he says resignedly.
“Baby?” Dick mouths, beaming.
“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me!” you holler.
“Babe, you are a hacker,” he points out. “How come you didn’t share that with the class?”
That makes you pause. “Fair fucking point, I guess,” you mutter. Jason sees Bruce try to tug the comm out of Damian’s ear, but Damian dances out of reach.
“Uh, also, can you cool it with the swearing?” Jason asks. “There’s a kid here.”
“…if it’s Robin I am going to throw up.”
“Hello,” Damian says helpfully.
Your end of the line is silent.
“Hey, Escher, it’s Spoiler!” Steph cuts in. “Nice job shacking up with Hood.” She eyes Jason evilly.
“This is a fucking ambush,” you grind out. “Jason, you fucking ambushed me.”
“Language,” Bruce orders gently. Tim just about busts a gut while Jason waves frantically at Bruce, shaking his head rapidly. “Nice to meet you over the phone,” Bruce adds. Dick gives him a thumbs up.
“…likewise,” you say eventually. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but this has been insane, and I’m disconnecting. Jason, get your as— get back here after you’ve finished your family dinner.” Your end goes dead.
“They seem nice,” Bruce says after a moment. “We’ll have to talk about how they got into the comm links,” he looks at Tim reproachfully.
“See you later, Hood,” Dick says easily, nodding at your building.
Jason turns back to your apartment. He can already see you in the window, arms crossed over your chest. You’re trying to scowl at him, but he can see the smile trying to escape.
He shrugs his shoulders, grinning. You throw up your hands but beckon him anyway. Come on, come back.
Don’t worry, Jason’s coming.
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solarmorrigan · 2 days ago
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3 & 4 steddie? I love everyone's takes on eddie interacting with steve after the halloween party in s2💛
So! A thing about me is that I'm actually not always comfortable writing about drinking. The "why" of it is kind of a moving target, and I really should have just nixed "drunk" as an option in the tags, so that's my bad D: But! I think I got the rest of your prompt in pretty alright??
4. Cry - Eddie &/ Steve
-
Eddie had only been looking for a quiet place to smoke. Business is great at parties like this, but sometimes he needs a break from all the hubbub. The backyard had been milling with people, but as Eddie had trailed out towards the edge of the property, close to the tree line of the woods behind the house, the crowds had dwindled to nothing, leaving undisturbed peace in their wake.
At least, Eddie had thought so.
It takes a minute for him to notice the new noise – the soft, inconsistent huffs of air working counter to the sound of the whispering breeze. It’s the sound of someone gasping, he realizes, cold anxiety beginning to pool in his gut.
Is someone hurt? Had some drunken idiot wandered out back here, maybe fallen or run into a tree and injured themselves? Were they too hurt to get back up? But, no – as Eddie gets closer to the source of the noise, it becomes clear it isn’t pained gasping, it’s the hitched-breath sound of sobbing.
And just as he starts to think maybe he should just give this person their privacy, let them have a good cry in peace like they clearly intended, he rounds a tree and sees exactly who it is that’s come out into the woods in their lament.
He can’t see the face, but even in the half-light spilling out from the house, the head of hair is unmistakable: Eddie’s just crashed Steve Harrington’s private backwoods breakdown.
For a moment, Eddie is frozen, unsure of what to do. He feels a little like Actaeon stumbling across Diana bathing in the forest, and at any moment he’s going to be turned into a stag for witnessing something he shouldn’t have (and take that, Mrs. Davis – he does pay attention in English class. To the cool parts, at least). Except it doesn’t seem like Steve has noticed him yet, still wrapped up in whatever’s got him miserable, so maybe Eddie can just make a clean getaway? Pretend none of this ever happened?
Intending to do just that, he takes one careful step back and puts his foot down directly on what is apparently the loudest twig in existence. The crack of it rings out like an alarm, and Steve’s head snaps up, his cheeks shining wet in the low light, glancing around frantically until his eyes land on Eddie.
“Uh,” Eddie says, raising one careful hand in greeting. “Hey.”
That seems to knock Steve back into action. He swears, reaching up to wipe roughly at his face, running a hand through his hair, probably trying desperately to look like he hadn’t just been crying. Eddie figures he should probably let him, give him some plausible deniability, pretend he hadn’t been able to see anything in the dark, that he hadn’t heard anything at all. Except now that he’s here, Eddie finds he can’t quite leave well enough alone. He’s curious.
And maybe he feels a little bad for the guy. Just a little. He looks sort of devastated from where Eddie is standing, eyes wide and wet, cheeks red, hair disheveled (but still goddamn pretty. How is that even fair?).
“You, uh… You okay?” Eddie tries, feeling a little lame in the attempt.
“Yeah,” Steve snaps, running a hand down over his face again. “I’m fine.”
Clearly.
“Did you come here with someone?” Eddie asks. “Like… someone I can go get?”
“What? I’m not drunk or anything, man, I’m fine,” Steve huffs, leaning back against the tree he’d been half-hidden behind, shoulders still slumped.
“No, yeah, I just – like, whatever’s going on with you, I figured maybe a friend would be… better,” Eddie says, waving a hand vaguely at Steve, who scoffs at him. “Wait– Wheeler. You came with her, didn’t you?”
That doesn’t get an answer – not a verbal one, anyway. All Steve does is sniffle and glance away.
“Ah,” Eddie finds himself nodding, speaking before he can stop himself, “trouble in paradise?”
Steve scoffs again. “You know what?” he asks harshly. “When your girlfriend says you’re bullshit, and that your love is bullshit, and blames you for her friend dying, you start to think that maybe there was no paradise to begin with.”
Eddie blinks. That’s a lot to process. “I thought Holland ran away?” he asks after a moment, because apparently that’s the thing to focus on.
“Right. Ran away,” Steve spits out, and that’s – hm.
What do you know that I don’t, Steve Harrington? Eddie wonders.
He doesn’t ask, of course, because nosy as he is, Eddie also has a healthily developed sense of self preservation, and this seems like the sort of thing he shouldn’t be prying into.
“That’s kinda fucked up, man,” he says instead. “She seriously accuse you of that?”
Steve shrugs, says nothing, but still looks miserable enough that Eddie would believe it. Whatever went down between Steve and Nancy had clearly been a hell of a mess. He isn’t entirely sure why he cares (his persistent soft spot for strays is honestly a bitch sometimes), but he finds he doesn’t want to leave Steve like this, depressed and alone in the woods on Halloween.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws his pack of cigarettes, shaking two out into his hand. Steve tenses when Eddie takes a few steps closer, but the only thing Eddie does is offer him a cigarette. There’s a moment of confused staring, eyes flicking between Eddie’s face and the cigarette in his hand, but eventually Steve reaches out to take it.
Eddie takes a chance, leaning in a little closer to offer him a light, and Steve takes it, the warmth of his face near Eddie’s cupped palm feeling almost as strong as the flame from the lighter.
Eddie drops his hand as soon as the cigarette is lit. He needs to get a grip. He lights his own cigarette and takes a drag.
“Thanks,” Steve croaks once he’s blown out his first breath of smoke.
“Don’t mention it,” Eddie replies.
They smoke in silence for a minute, watching the backlit figures of drunken teenagers churn in and out of the house before them.
“Maybe she’s right,” Steve finally says.
“Hm?” Eddie glances over at him, but Steve is glaring at the ground.
“Love,” Steve sneers. “Maybe it’s really just bullshit.”
And something about that just hits Eddie wrong. Maybe he’s never believed in love, as such—not the way it’s described in poetry or sung about in ballads or written about in shlocky romance novels—but Steve clearly does. Anyone who’s been around him and Nancy for more than a minute in the last year could see that. For it to be otherwise feels like it goes against the natural order.
“Nah,” Eddie says. “Love is out there, man. The real shit, y’know? Stuff worth fighting for.”
Steve lets out a little snort, more amused than derisive, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. “You’re not a romantic, Munson,” he says, so sure of himself – which is fair.
“Oh, I’m a cynic through and through, baby,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve gives him a little laugh. “But you – you’re a romantic. You don’t really believe that love is bullshit. And you shouldn’t.”
Subsiding, Steve leans back against his tree, taking another drag of his cigarette like he’s stalling for time. “Why do you care what I believe?” he finally asks.
Eddie shrugs. “The world needs people like you. Romantics. Dreamers. You keep people like us pessimists from collapsing beneath the weight of our own dark souls.”
“What?” Steve coughs out, really laughing this time, and Eddie smiles right along with him.
“Just saying,” he offers.
Steve shakes his head. “Okay, drama kid. And I’m guessing people like you – what? Help people like me keep our feet on the ground?”
“Sure,” Eddie says. “Everyone needs a rock now and then. A nice solid foundation to start from.”
“Hm,” Steve hums, finishing off his cigarette as Eddie does the same. “Well – you’re, uh. You’re a pretty good rock, Eddie. Thanks.”
“Yeah, man,” Eddie says, pretending that the weird little compliment hadn’t made him light up just a bit. “Don’t mention it.”
And Steve doesn’t, but the smile he gives Eddie – well. What’s something else.
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larluce · 2 days ago
Text
Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU
(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep )
BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART
Chapter 2: A Baby's Call (Part 2)
In Gaius' chambers.
Merlin: (sits down, holding the baby to feed her)
Gaius: Here (gives him a baby bottle)
Merlin: Thanks. (takes the bottle and starts feeding her. Then looks around, spots some broken things and laughs) I see the baby got you a bit of trouble too.
Gaius: She was upset when you weren't around indeed. But she calmed down eventually. (serves Merlin his food on the table) Do you want some vegetables with that?
Merlin: (snorts) I know you're still angry with me.
Gaius: Your mother asked me to look after you both. What she didn't tell me is that I'd have to look after two babies instead of one.
Merlin: I got it. I was stupid.
Gaius: (softens his expression as he looks Merlin feeding the baby, murmuring to himself) In a way, you are a baby looking after a baby.
Merlin: Uh?
Gaius: (outloud) What did your mother say to you about your gifts?
Merlin: That I'm special.
Gaius: You are both special. The likes of which I have never seen before. But it seems you are not the same kind of especial.
Merlin: (lifts his head, confused) What do you mean?
Gaius: Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What you both do is elemental, instinctive. However, while your eyes glow gold when you do magic, the baby's stays the same.
Merlin: Which means...?
Gaius: I don't know. You both are a question that has never been posed before.
Merlin: Did you ever study magic?
Gaius: (pauses, hesitant) Uther banned all such work twenty years ago.
Merlin: (thinking) That's not what I asked... (says) Why?
Gaius: People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons.
Merlin: (surprised) What? All of them?
Gaius: There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it.
Baby: (falls asleep) 😴
Merlin: (stands up and walks to the improvised crib they made for the baby and puts her there carefuly)
Gaius: Now, eat up. You can stay with the baby this time. I'll take Lady Helen the preparation for her voice.
Merlin: (smiles) Thank you (sits to eat, thinking) If the king managed to kill almost all the dragons. Then we can't stay here for long. I hope Gaius can contact the druids soon.
Time skip. In the Lower Town. Merlin looking for somewhere to buy milk when he encounters Arthur and his gang.
Merlin: (just passes by, ignoring them, thinking) Don't talk to me, don't talk to me, don't talk to me.
Arthur: How's your knee-walking coming along?
Merlin: (thinking) Shit... (keeps walking, ignoring them)
Arthur: (mocking) Oh, don't run away!
Merlin: (stops) From you?
Arthur: (sighs) Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.
Merlin: (turning) Look, I've told you you're an ass- (cuts himself, not wanting to be send to the dungeons and be taken apart from his baby again) And I apologise for that.
Arthur: (surprised) Really?
Merlin: No, but I can't exactly speak my mind without being sent to the dungeons again, can I? (smiles forcely and bows in mockery) Your Higness. Please, go bother someone else.
Arthur: (amused And curious) And if I allowed you to speak your mind?
Merlin: Will I be sent to the dungeons after that?
Arthur: No.
Merlin: The stocks?
Arthur: You have my word no harm will come to you.
Merlin: Alright. (takes a deep breath) You are a spoiled, selfish royal prat. An ungrateful little shit, blind to the suffering of those who keep you fed, clothed, and alive. Do you even know what it is to work? To bleed? To starve?
Arthur: (his smirk falls) Hold on-
Merlin: And how do you repay the people who serves you? With cruelty and mockery. You think yourself noble because of the blood in your veins, but there is nothing noble about you. You are a leech, feeding off the labor of others while contributing nothing!
People around: (gasp)
Merlin: (bows) My lord.
Arthur: (angry) How dare you. I have fought for my people since a very young age, went to dignitary visits to maintain peace between kingdoms. So yes I do know what is to bleed and to work. But of course an ignorant peasant like you wouldn't know that.
Merlin: And yet you act like an idiot, using people as targets just for fun!
Arthur: Don't pretend you know me.
Merlin: I don't NEED to know you and I don't WANT to know you. Just. Leave me. Alone.
Knights: (wait for Arthur to tell them what do)
Arthur: (furious, his jaw tensed, but shows a serious blank face) I'm a man of my word, so I will let you leave. But if I see you again I'll have you flogged.
Merlin: (with a very fake smile) Thank you so much your highness, you are so kind. (bows in mockery again and leaves)
Time skip. In Gaius' chambers.
Gaius: (enters) How could you be so foolish?!
Merlin: (changing the baby's diapers) I don't know what you're talking about.
Gaius: Don't take me for a fool! Everyone is talking about how you humilliated the prince!
Merlin: (grins) Really?
Gaius: It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself in the dungeons again!
Merlin: He was the one who gave me permission to speak my mind! So I spoke my mind. I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't and he needed someone to tell him his truths. It's not my fault he can't handle them. (finishes to change the diapers) There you are! 🤗 (lifts her)
Baby: (babbles adorably)
Gaius: (sighs) I guess I should be glad you weren't idiotic enough to get into another fight with him or use magic to toss him around.
Merlin: Oh, I was tempted. A lot. (looks at the baby fondly) But, as you said, I can't afford acting like an idiot. I have a lot more to lose if I'm discovered. (his face turns sad) You don't know why we are like this, do you?
Gaius: (shakes his head sadly) No. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't possess that knowledge.
Merlin: (pauses) You know, I used to think I was a monster. For being the way I am. For so long I asked myself, why am I like this? Why would the Gods give me so much magic if I can't use it? What is my purpose in this world that rejects everything I am? Everytime my questions came without answers, I felt like dying.
Gaius: And now?
Merlin: (smiles fondly at the baby again) I'm holding the answers in my arms.
Time skip. In the Dragon's Cave. A deprived sleep Merlin enters.
Kilgharrah: Merlin! Until you finally answered my calls.
Merlin: (looks around for the owner of the voice, exhausted) Where are you?
Kilgharrah: (flies to land in front of Merlin) I'm here! How small you are for such a great-
Merlin: Oh, so you are the one who has been talking in my head in the middle of the night.
Kilgharrah: Indeed. As I was saying-
Merlin: I don't care what you have to say! 😡 You know how many hours I've been able to sleep these past few days?
Kilgharrah: (taken aback) Ehm...
Merlin: 3 HOURS! I can only sleep 3 hours a day, because if the baby is not crying, she is making some stuff fly or break! And if she is not making some stuff fly or break, she needs changing or cleaning! But it's okay because I have my 3 hours of sleep, my precious and sacred 3 hours of sleep. And when I finally, FINALLY find some time for my myself to have my fucking 3 hours of sleep, YOU! (points at Kilgharrah with a savage expression) INTERRUPT MY FUCKING SLEEP! 😤
Kilgharrah: ...
Merlin: So don't ever interrupt my beautiful 3 hours of sleep again or I'll make sure you are with the rest of the dragons very soon. (turns and leaves)
Kilgharrah: (watches as Merlin leaves in shock and then thinks) So there is a magic baby too? Interesting. Though I couldn't sense her (closes his eyes feeling the magic around him) And I still can't sense her. Interesting indeed.
Time skip. Next day. In Merlin's room.
Gaius: (enters Merlin's messy chamber and gathers his clothes) Oi!
Merlin: (wakes up) AH! The baby! (quickly turns to see the crib and relaxes once he sees the baby is fine)
Gaius: Have you seen the state of this room?
Merlin: (rubs his face, tired) It just happens.
Gaius: By magic? Or are you going to tell me it's the baby's fault?
Merlin: Well... (points the baby's crib where everything seems to float or move near it)
Gaius: ... It's the baby's fault.
Merlin: Yes. (yawns) And I haven't had time.
Gaius: Yeah. Well, I'll give you some time to clear it up (warns) without magic. And then I want you to get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana. (gives him a small bag with a vial) The poor girl's suffering from nightmares, she can't hardly sleep... (gets a better look at Merlin) Although I think at this rate I'll have to make something for you too. You look terrible. (tosses some more clothes at Merlin and leaves)
Merlin: Mmm, can't hardly sleep? I know the feeling.
Time skip. In Morgana’s chambers.
Merlin: (enters the open door, eyes not really focus on anything, very sleep deprived)
Morgana: (as she walks behind her changing screen, looking just as exhausted as Merlin, but entertained by the conversation) You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. (yawns) I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?
Merlin: (pauses uncertainly before fetching the dress)
Morgana: (begins undressing) I mean, the man's a total jouster. And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it? (yawns trying to hide it)
Merlin: (yawns too, as quietly as he can, and places the gown on the screen with slow movements, not really paying attention cause he's so SO tired)
Morgana: Well, does it?
Merlin: (manages a high pitched yawn)
Morgana: I mean, If he wants me to go... Oh, Gwen, don't tell me I'm spreading you my yawns?
Merlin: (tries to figure a way out of this situation, but he yawns louder instead)
Morgana: I thought so. Well, as I was saying- (looks over the screen, spots Merlin and covers herself quickly, screaming) AAAAH!
Merlin: (blushes furiously, very embarrased, not knowing what to do or say) Uhm... 😳
Morgana: ... You are not Gwen.
Merlin: No. 😅
Gwen: (enters) I'm here.
Merlin: (turns to her)
Gwen: Are you here to drop off Lady Morgana's medicine?
Merlin: Yes! That's exactly why I'm here. I didn't mean to- (yawns) spy or-
Gwen: (smiles) It's fine. Leave it there. (points to a small table in the entryway) Thank you, although I think you should get some rest.
Merlin: (leaves the vial where Gwen indicated and turns to Morgana, head hung in shame) I'm so sorry. (leaves quickly)
Gwen: (helps Morgana behind the screen)
Morgana: (comes out from behind the screen in a new dress) Who was that?
Gwen: A new servant it seems, my lady. And a really tired one.
Time skip. In the Banquet Hall at night. Court members gather.
Gaius: (stands on one of the walls closest to the servants' door, looking around and grabbing some snacks to put in his pockets for Merlin)
Arthur: (joking around and laughing with his companions)
Morgana: (enters with her breathtaking dress, making every men stare at her)
Arthur: (Cursing internally) Gods have mercy. (goes to her)
Morgana: (smiles at him, inocently) Hi, Arthur.
Arthur: (protective brother mode) What is it that you are wearing?
Morgana: It's called a dress. You should try it some time.
Arthur: You know what I mean. Change it.
Morgana: Why?
Arthur: It's... too revealing!
Morgana: (laughs) Who are you to tell me what to wear?
Arthur: I'm the prince!
Morgana: A prince that got humiliated by a peasant boy yesterday.
Arthur: (Taken aback) Who...who told you that?
Morgana: Everyone is talking about it. And if you keep bothering me, I'll make sure no one forgets it. (passes him)
Arthur: (fumes, but lets her be)
Merlin: (appears through the servants' door, completely in a hurry and looking for Gaius in the crowd)
Gaius: (spots him) Merlin! (approaches) I thought you were with the baby? What happened?
Merlin: (very worried parent mode) She just fell asleep, but she hasn't stopped crying! It's not her diaper or her food or a bump, I checked. Maybe is a cold. Or worst! She could be dying-
Gaius: Calm down! It's probably just colic, it happens frequently to babies that age. I have several vials labeled for that in my cabinet. (checks that the prince hasn't seen Merlin, not wanting Merlin to get into trouble again) Now, leave before-
Celebratory horns signal King Uther's entrance and everyone present falls silent and still as they notice the king passing them. The servants' entrance is blocked by all the maidservants and manservants trying to leave so as not to interrupt the king.
Merlin: (stands still next to Gaius. Unable to leave)
Uther: We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.
Applause. The music begins and Uther and the court take their seats. Merlin takes the opportunity to move through the servants who move to serve again, trying to remain unnoticed. However as he passes and Helen starts singing, Merlin notices the members of the court begin to fall asleep. Merlin covers his ears with his hands as cobwebs begin to form over the enchanted sleepers.
Merlin: (thinking, confused and scared) What... what is happening?
Lady Helen: (stares at Arthur as she walks forward and then pulls a dagger from her sleeve)
Merlin: (thinking) Wait... She wants to kill the idiot! 😱 I get the feeling, but it's wrong! Oh, what do I do, what do I do... (spots the chandelier) That's it! (magically drops the chandelier on her as she raises her arm to throw the dagger)
Court members: (wake and pull the cobwebs off, muttering, confused)
Uther and Arthur: (just as confused, stand up to see Lady Helen, now Mary Collins, lying on the floor)
Merlin: (thinking) Oh, shit. Did I kill her?
Mary Collins: (suddenly raises herself up enough to throw the dagger at Arthur)
Merlin: (slows down time instinctively to reach Arthur and pull him out of harm's way)
The dagger slices into Arthur's chair as Arthur and Merlin fall to the floor.
Mary Collins: (gives her last breath and dies)
Arthur and Merlin: (stand up)
Arthur: (thinking) What the hell is he doing here?
Uther: You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid.
Merlin: Oh, well. I don't really need-
Uther: Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded.
Merlin: No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Majesty. (tries to leave)
Uther: (stops him by the arm) No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.
Merlin: Well, if you insist. (thinking) I guess some money wouldn't hurt to buy some things for the baby. Just, please hurry, she'll wake up at any moment!
Uther: You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant.
The Court: (applauds)
Arthur: (complains in a whisper) Father!
Uther: (ignores him)
Gaius: (tries to approach, but the number of people standing up and approaching the King and the young men is such that it is impossible for him to even object from his position)
Gwen: (claps with a pitying smile on her face, knowing what awaits Merlin at his new job)
Arthur and Merlin: (look away from each other, completely irritated)
Time skip. In Merlin's room. The baby seems not to have woken up, but everything that is close to her levitates. Merlin, completely exhausted, tries to put everything back in its place, but again some things float or start to roll.
Gaius: (knocks on the door and enters) You seem to be a hero.
Merlin: With a shitty reward. (gives up on putting the things back to place and sighs) Can I resign?
Gaius: No. Once Uther has something in mind it's impossible for anyone to oppose him. His word is law, remember?
Merlin: But... We had not planned for me to stay.
Gaius: And now, it seems you'll be here for an unlimited time. And even if I find a camp right now, it's unlikely I'll be able to get you and the baby accepted. I wouldn't worry too much though. It's a relatively easy job to do. And a short term one too.
Merlin: What do you mean?
Gaius: Servants who are dedicated to the prince's care don't usually last very long. He'll probably sack you soon. All you have to do is avoid getting into trouble with the prince and serve him-
Merlin: (worried) Oh no! I can't do that!
Gaius: Be with the prince? It's just following him around all day… (realises) oh, the baby.
Merlin: (sighs) I can't leave her alone, but I can't have her with me all the time either. Or can I?
Gaius: It's been a long time since anyone had a baby in the castle. And almost all the children are already teenagers of the servants or maids. Don't worry, I'll help you with her. (hands Merlin a book wrapped in a cloth) This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me.
Merlin: (opens it and looks inside) This is a book of magic! I thought the king had destroyed everything related to magic.
Gaius: He kept a dragon alive, a magic book that pretends to be an herbalist's book won't kill anyone. Not if you are careful that is. Keep it hidden and then take it with you when you go with the baby to the druid camp.
Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Gaius. I will study every word.
Guard: (knocks from outside, pretending not to notice the baby bottles in the room) Merlin, Prince Arthur needs you immediately.
Gaius: Well, you'd better find out what he wants.
BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART
...
So Arthur and Merlin had an even rockier start this time. How do you think this will affect their relationship?
Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101
89 notes · View notes
luvvcho · 1 day ago
Text
❅・WHISPER OF THE HEART
SYNOPSIS — The three times he tries to tell you, and the one time he actually does.
WC — (2.3k)
CONTENT: SFW, angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, family issues/neglect (gojo's family is lowkey awful), idk how to make these erm
a/n: hai ^.^ so i lowkey haven’t written since 2021, so pls bear with me as i get back into writing again! also, i’m looking for a beta reader! if you’re interested, you can reach out to me :p m. list | next >
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Tokyo, Japan 2005
Gojo's eyes stung from trying to keep a tear or two from rolling down his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, blinking fast as if that might stop them from falling and hoping you wouldn't notice.“They won’t let me in,” he muttered, stepping away from the towering gate of his family’s estate. His voice was light, almost casual if not for the way it cracked at the edges. “Dad’s pissed I missed my English lesson, so I guess I’m not sleeping here tonight.”
Your brows knit together. In the two years you’d known him, you never quite understood how his family worked, only that they were wealthy, controlling, and conditional in their affection. As long as he played the part they expected, they gave him everything. The moment he strayed, even slightly, they turned their backs, and just like every other time, he ended up on either your doorstep or Suguru’s.
His head hung low, but his arm still found its way around your shoulders, pulling you along as he walked away from the gate. You caught a glimpse of his mother in the upstairs window, standing in the supposed warmth of their grand home, watching her son disappear down the street. You opened your mouth to say something, but what was there to say? Instead, you swallowed it down. “Where are we going?”
“Payphone,” he sighed. “Mine’s dead. Gotta ask Suguru if I can crash at his place again.”
Again. This happened too often.
“Stay at mine,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. “It’s my fault you’re home late anyway.”
Gojo glanced at his watch, the golden arms pointing to 6:30. Seven hours ago, he had been standing in front of your teacher, voice sharp, unwavering, as he tore into them for lecturing you about the length of your uniform skirt. You had both landed in after-school detention, but if given the chance, you knew he’d do it all over again.
He shook his head. “Nah. Zenin’s an asshole.”
His dismissal was instant, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers curled just slightly around your shoulder, holding on.You both rounded the corner in silence, leaving behind the towering homes and pristine streets of the Gojos’ gated community. 
The cold late-November air bit at your skin, and you tugged your jacket higher, burying the lower half of your face into the fabric. Your mind was surprisingly empty; no lingering thoughts about his family, no plan for what came next. Just the rhythmic sound of your footsteps against the pavement.
Unbeknownst to you, the boy beside you was drowning in his thoughts. A million miles a minute, his brain ran wild, tripping over itself. Not about his father slamming the door in his face, not about the house staff refusing him entry, and not about how ridiculously messed up it was that having to sleep somewhere else didn’t even surprise him anymore.
His thoughts fixated on something far more immediate… his arm. His arm which was slung so casually around your shoulders, holding you close against the cold.
He hadn’t even realized it at first. The motion had been instinctual, natural, like muscle memory. But now, the weight of it pressed against him like a revelation.
He had his arm around you.
Sure, you were close. Friends, obviously. Best friends, maybe. But never in a million years did he think he’d be standing like this, side by side, your body tucked under his as if it was second nature. He couldn’t help but think you fit into him perfectly, as if you were meant to be there.
If he looked down, really looked, he’d notice everything he’d been unconsciously curious about since the day he met you. The way your hair caught the dim glow of the streetlights, the way your breath fogged up in the cold, the way your fingers curled into your sleeves for warmth.
And suddenly, his jacket felt way too hot. His grip flexed slightly on your shoulder, fingers twitching before he forced them to still.
This was stupid. Ridiculous. He was Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. Not that he ever really cared. But standing here, his heart thudding a little too loud, a little too fast, over something as simple as having his arm around you?
He was so screwed.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, snapping him out of whatever strange, faraway thoughts had him so quiet. It wasn’t like Gojo to be this silent. If anything, you were more accustomed to telling him to shut up rather than coaxing words out of him, so it didn’t take long for you to notice something was on his mind.
His head jerks up slightly, caught off guard. “Uh…talk about what?”
You give him a look. He knows exactly what. And when realization flickers across his face, his expression shifts instantly.
“Ohh,” he drawls, lips curling into a smirk. “Are you worried about me? How endearing, I didn’t know you cared about me so much.”
And just like that, he’s back.
“Satoru,” you warn, pulling away from him.
He instantly regrets teasing when the warmth of your body leaves his side. Cold air rushes in between you, and even though it should be a relief, his body still feels uncomfortably warm. But he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his expression even, pretending it’s no big deal
“You know you can talk to me about anything,” you remind him, stepping forward to walk ahead.
He nods, though he doesn’t say anything.
The truth is he doesn’t want to talk about his family. He doesn’t want to talk about how easily they push him away, how conditional their love is, how the weight of their expectations feels like a noose around his neck. His family already has a say in every part of his life, in who he is, in who he’s allowed to be. Hell, he wouldn’t have even met Suguru if it weren’t for them. You were the only thing they hadn’t touched and he refuses to let them ruin you, too.
So silence settles between you. You’re waiting for him to speak, patient as always, but the words never come.
A few minutes pass, the payphone comes and goes behind you, and the scenery transitions from the suburbs into a less wealthy part of Tokyo.
It’s only when the glow of streetlights stretches further down the road that Gojo suddenly speaks again, voice lighter, teasing. “Say it again.”
You blink. “Huh?”
“My name,” he grins, this time not hiding the way he tilts his head slightly toward you, playful curiosity glinting in his blue eyes. “Say it again.”
You sigh, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “Stop being weird. Why should I?”
“I like when you say my name.”
You narrow your eyes. “That’s a really weird thing to like.”
He gasps dramatically, pressing a hand over his chest as if you’d just personally offended him. “Don’t make fun of my interests, you wound me!”
A small laugh escapes you despite yourself. “You’re so annoying.”
But you’re smiling, and you notice that Gojo, for some reason, can’t stop staring at you.
The teasing back-and-forth continues, playful insults exchanged between you until you both break into giggles. He plays up his grievous injury by clutching his heart, stumbling as if he’s been struck by your cruel words.
And then—
“Oh, Satoru.”
His head snaps up.
The way you say his name makes something in him trip over itself, and it almost manifests into his exterior world as he stumbles over his own foot.
His first thought is that you’re about to say something important. Something meaningful, something that might make his pulse pick up for reasons he doesn’t yet want to think about.
But then you tilt your head back down the street.
“We passed the payphone a few blocks ago.”
Gojo blinks, momentarily dumbfounded, before breaking into a grin. “Aww, you said my name.”
You groan. “Shut up.”
He hums, pretending to think. “So… do you wanna turn back?”
“Obviously.”
“Why?” he shrugs, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought I was staying with you.”
You open your mouth, then pause. The easy confidence in his voice makes it sound like it was always going to be that way, like it was never even a question in his mind.
“…You sure?” you ask, hesitant now. “I was just kidding earlier. I mean Suguru’s place is closer, and my family might not be home—”
Gojo shrugs. “His parents are family friends. It might not be wise to go there. Plus I like your place better”
It’s simple. It’s honest.
It’s enough to make you roll your eyes and keep walking, but you don’t argue.
Gojo lets himself fall back in step with you, brushing against your side again, this time without wrapping his arm around you. His hands are cold, but the warmth from earlier still lingers.
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It was much darker now than when you had left Gojo’s place. If not for the streetlights and the bright glow of the business signs overhead, the night might as well have been pitch black.
A block from your house, the neon light of a convenience store caught your attention. You tugged lightly on Gojp’s sleeve.
“Let’s grab something to eat.”
Gojo hummed in agreement, following you inside. The store was small, the aisles packed tight, and the fluorescent lights buzzed softly above. You made a beeline for the instant ramen section, scanning the shelves.
“What’s the move?” he asked, casually resting his chin on your shoulder from behind.
You stilled at his closeness, your face heating in response.
“Spicy miso,” you said, grabbing two cups. “Unless you wanna cry over beef-flavored sadness.”
He chuckled. “Oh, bold of you to assume I won’t cry anyway.”
You rolled your eyes and shoved the cups into his chest. He caught them easily, grinning as he walked toward the register. You followed, digging in your bag for your wallet, but before you could pull it out, Gojo stopped you with one hand and swiped his card with the other.
“Satoru,” you whined.
“You’re letting me stay the night. The least I can do is buy us dinner.”
You opened your mouth to protest but hesitated when you realized his hands were still on yours. The warmth of his touch lingered a little too long. Before he could notice the scarlet creeping up your neck, you turned away.
“Whatever. I need some air,” you muttered, stepping outside.
Moments later, Gojo followed with two steaming cups of ramen in hand, the convenience store door chiming as he walked through. He settled beside you on the curb, letting the cold night air cool the broth. You both take your first bite.
Gojo nudged his foot against yours. “Y’know, you didn’t have to offer me a place to stay.”
“I know.” You took a careful sip of your broth. “But I did.”
He stared down at his ramen, idly swirling the noodles with his chopsticks. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, rounding out the sharp edges, making the sharp angles of his jawline softer, less untouchable.
You’d always heard girls at school talk about how perfect he was: his looks, his charm, the effortless way he carried himself. But you had never really seen it before. Not like this. Not until now, in the quiet glow of the streetlamp, with the world stripped of its noise.
You were not going to catch feelings for Gojo Satoru. You looked away, shoving the thought aside and focusing back on your food, until something caught your eye.
Tiny white flecks drifted down from the sky, vanishing the moment they met the pavement.
“Satoru, look!” you said, turning back to him, excitement bubbling in your voice. “It’s snowing.”
Gojo lifted his gaze, watching the flurries dance under the streetlights. And then, when he looked back down at you, something in him shifted.
The snow dusted your lashes, melting with every blink, your cheeks were tinged pink (not just from the cold but from being flustered earlier, but this he did not know). And, oh, how he wished he could just tell you how beautiful you were. “Pretty,” he said, quietly. “The snow, I mean.”
You reached up, brushing a few flakes from his hair, laughing softly. “It matches your hair.”
And suddenly, he wanted to say it.
In fact, this was the part where he was supposed to say it.
That you made him feel like home, even when he didn’t have one. That you were the only person who had ever wanted to get to know him. Not his last name, not his status, just him. That he didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, his heart had stopped being his own. That standing next to you, sharing cheap convenience store ramen, in fact doing anything with you, felt more like belonging than anything he’d ever known.
His lips parted.
He whispered your name.
“Mhm?” You looked up at him mid-bite, noodles hanging from your lips.
I love you. I’m in love with you.
But the words get caught in his throat.
He let out a breath, setting his cup down beside him. “You, uh… got something in your teeth.”
You blinked. “Huh? Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Right there.”
You ran your tongue over your teeth before flashing him a grin. “Got it?”
He stared for a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he glanced away. “Yeah. You got it.”
You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Satoru. You’re a good friend.”
He exhaled softly, resting his head atop yours.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Friend. You too.”
And for now, that was enough.
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the plot for this has been fully thought out, and i’ll do my best to get the next 3 chapters done as soon as possible, but i am a student and pretty busy.
pls do not copy, repost, or claim my work as your own :) if you have any issues with what i wrote or noticed any mistakes, let me know privately. thank you for reading <3
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mehiwilldoitlater · 8 hours ago
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Yandere destined one... deciding to courtnap his new obsession. I would love to see this!
(I don't write much destined one but I'm really liking his character!)
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Two young children sat in the shadow of the apricot trees, fresh and juicy fruits in their hands while they spit away the seeds, playing and laughing. Your childish laugh echoed when you were able to defeat the young one beside you.
Your innocent and naive mind never found trouble in his look, after all, how many kids could have said to be friends with a demon monkey?
"You know," you said, chewing another fruit, "my big sister is going to get married soon, and they promised me to buy me a new dress!"
His eyes narrowed; his sharp canines bit in half the apricot with one strike.
"What does marry mean?"
"It's when two people love each other a lot and they start to live together!"
"Oh…we do the same! But without new dresses…" He looked at you, his tail swirled around. "Say, would you marry me when we get older?"
You inclined your head, confused by this question.
"But you're a monkey!"
"I know! So? Do you want to?'
"…ummm…"
You bit into the apricot again, clearly questioning if you wanted to get married in the first place.
///
The open window allowed a soft breeze to enter your room. Your small figure held the doll that your father gifted you for your birthday to help you sleep, especially since, for some reason, your sleep seemed quite disturbed and erratic.
Strange noises came from your room, alarming both of your parents and the servants.
Sometime you woke up, feeling a pair of eyes watching you. Sometimes you actually saw a figure, and every time your screams woke everyone, alerting them and making them come to you in fear.
During the day, when you were able to meet him, you told him about those nightmares, fearing what was happening in the security of your own house.
"I'm sure those are just nightmares! Who could even think to hurt you?"
And you wanted to believe him, but the truth was beyond everyone's imagination.
Your parents always told you to beware of yaoguais, especially the monkey ones.
"As simile and harmless as they look, they can be conniving and prone to lying! They have an eye for treasures and beauty, and they're ready to steal!"
But a child doesn't know better, and you thought of him as a friend. You played with him, shared snacks with him, never knew that he had a treasure in his mind all of this time, and, despite the age, he had already enough courage to try and steal it.
You wanted to be brave, a brave little girl, and, instead of screaming, that night you pointed the light of your candle closer to whatever was roaming in your room.
Your eyes met the one of your friends, occupied in preparing a bag, with your staff.
When you screamed, your parents finally met who was trying to steal you. He ran away, betrayed and in fear.
You never saw him again.
///
"And what did the fortune teller say about the date?"
"The ending of the month is a good date!"
The voices of your mother and your grandmother were just background noises in your head. Looking out of the window, your eyes fall on the old apricot orchard, with the white petals falling down like snowflakes. An inch of nostalgia and fear came back to you, remembering what memories held that place. Sitting on your chair, the breeze outside the window didn't give you the chance to be part of the discussion between your family, even if you were at the center of it.
"My child is getting married! Her father acts all grumpy about the expenses, but he's just so sad to see his princess become a bride!"
It wasn't like you didn't want to get married; to be fair, it wasn't in your mind at all, and you were mostly acceptable of the event.
Your spouse, the man who insisted with all his soul to marry you, was the child that came to you after the rumor started to spread.
The girl of the monkey, a girl that had almost been taken away from her house by a demon monkey.
The child came to you, curious about why a demon should want to take away such an ugly girl like you. You didn't know if you were ugly, but you knew that you didn't want to take that offense, and so you punched him. You two became friends; he started to play with you, allowing you to finally come out from the fear of meeting the monkey again, the fear of being captured.
You forgot about that fear…Maybe it was because you wanted it to be as far away as possible that you decided to accept marrying your childhood friend, even if, more than love, you felt for him a connection like with a brother.
Well, it wasn't like you had any friends or suitors since your background…Better accept it, you thought.
While looking at the orchard, something caught your eye, a glint, something shining between the flowers and the leaves. Strange, it wasn't the right time to tend to the trees… You tried to look better, your eyes glued on the plants, when the cranky voice of your grandmother called you back.
"Child, are you listening? "
"Uh?" You looked at her, completely spaced out. She sighed, massaging her face.
"Dear Y/N, how are you planning to be a good wife if you can't even listen to your old baba?" She smiled again, caressing your face gently. "We were talking about the decorations!"
And, by being dragged back in the discussion, you failed to notice a tail moving like a snake in the trees and the glint of a sword.
///
The smell of the powder and the incense was almost intoxicating; you had to plead with your mother to let the maiden open a window to allow some fresh air to clean the room. You were in a remote area of the house; no one could ever be able to trespass there, so why bother fearing being seen?
The red silks adorned your skin like the petals of a peony, the blue gems in your hair to symbolize the ever-l'astinenza phoenix, the crystal flowers decorating your neck and ears…
You needed to look better, the gentle ray of sun illuminating your face like no candle could even. You never were someone that proud or arrogant, but this time you had to admit it to yourself: you were standing.
You gasped; the makeup on your skin gave you an aura of elegance and refinement. It was like a princess was sitting in front of that mirror.
Your mother must have noticed that a sense of pride took over her.
"Oh…oh, my baby," her voice starting to crack, holding a handkerchief to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.
"Mom, please!"You tried to calm her down, "Don't cry!'
"Forgive me, my dear," she sighed, "it's just so much for me…"
You smiled; a sigh escaped from you. She's been crying since the news of your engagement, so overwhelmed by the fact that her little girl was now becoming the bride of a fine young man. The child that was marked as the chosen by the demon was finally getting free…
You caressed her shoulder, hugging her with fondness, looking at the maid that even she couldn't contain the happiness.
"Please," you said, trying to calm your mother, "can you take Mother to take some fresh air? I can take it from here…"
She nodded, helping your mother to stand up and leading her out of the room, closing the door behind her to give you some privacy.
You turned your face back to the mirror, smiling again at your reflection on the surface.
You were getting merry; soon you would leave the house of your parents to live with the man that promised to protect you from an old nightmare…
You felt a little bad, but you cared for him, and you knew you were holding nothing but affection towards him.
He could have asked someone else, and yet he chose you. He properly courted you… Yes, it was better like this…
You yawned a little, feeling a wave of exhaustion crashing on you all of a sudden. How strange…Well, you had woken up quite early for the preparations, and you had no time to take a pause from your big day. Sitting down in silence, the sweet smell of the incense was making you quite dizzy and sleepy.
Without even acknowledging your action, you allowed your head to repose on your arm, sustained by the wood of the vanity. You didn't plan to fall asleep, only to rest your eyes a little. You promised yourself to not ruin the dress or your makeup.
Why were you so sleepy? Was always the incense of this smell? You didn't know; you felt so tired right now.
How funny, three people in a room and no one noticed a hand from the window, pouring a strange powder in the incense burner.
You were so tired; the figure slipping in your room was probably a dream.
///
"Oh my, she looks like a goddess!"
"Is she a princess, Mama?"
"Not for us for sure!"
The giggling from the monkeys was whispers in the cavern, echoing through the walls alongside the sound of water drops and the small cascades that were born from the main stream and found passages in the mountain.
The small taunts and remarks were silenced in the ears of the now-grown monkey, far too occupied in admiring your beauty, now sleeping peacefully. Not anymore the small cub that tried several times to take you away once, too small and frail to actually do it. Now he was older, stronger, and bolder; he had found no problem in holding you in his arms, like he had found no problem in slicing the throat of the young maiden and bursting like an old pumpkin the head of your own mother.
Killing the maiden? It was precociousness; he needed no one to set an alarm when he was taking you with him on the mountain cave behind the waterfall of his homeland, but with your mother…that was personal.
He had such a hate towards your parents that he swore nothing could compare to it.
He could have accepted the fact that for some mortals, taking away their own mate could be seen in not such a good light, but he was a kid! Who could blame the ignorance of the youth?!
He was able to understand that, but it was when he had come back with his father, to discussing the proposition of letting you two get marry once you were both old enough. He was even able to accept the idea of just doing it in the mortal way, acting as a human; that was nothing if the price was having you at his side forever.
"Our daughter will never be the spouse of that monster."
Since he was a child, those words were like fire branded in his mind. It was at that time that he decided that no matter the cost, having you was his real mission. No matter what the Elder said, bringing back the old Sage was just another way to prove how your parents were wrong.
He had trained a lot, you see? He had become stronger, just to protect you. He hated the fact that your parents put so many guards near your house; he even suspected that they forced you to not set a foot in your sacred haven, the apricot orchard! Where you two met, when he had proposed the first time to marry you.
You were silent that day, but you were just shy, right?
His hands caressed your rosy cheeks, your sleeping form on the mattress of thousands of flowers to help you sleep, until at least he had done what was needed to be done.
He could have stayed there for days, admiring your innocent, relaxed face, your chest rising and falling alongside your breath, in those beautiful garments made for a bride, his bride.
But he still had some jobs to do, he told himself, sighing, holding his sword to his side and his staff in his hand.
He needed to take care of your father and to that…boy.
Since the day he started pestering, how much he wanted to rip his fingernails one by one, to pluck his eyes and tongue to make him eat them, to rip his guts from his body and strangle him with them, to make him suffer in every possible way, to try to take his beloved Y/N away from. Marry him? The thought made him sick, like he could have been even at your level! Your parents were fools to accept his proposals; they did so only to keep you two apart, of course!
But that was over; today your life as newlyweds was beginning. Kissing your forehead, he saw your sleeping body move a little. He hoped you were dreaming of him because he had dreamed of you for such a long time.
And so, after another loving glance, he started marching out of the cave, ready to make some more blood spill.
@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos
@nerium-lil
@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts
@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan
@blackknight-kai
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newttxt · 4 hours ago
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hi quip! i really like your one piece comics and i am curious how you do them! i'm not good at comics and want to be better at drawing them! how do you learn how to make comics?
thank you!
uh oh... im afraid u have caught me at the perfect crossroad of "bored at work" and "unrelated task ive been meaning to do but keep putting off."
this is long. i hope you like reading (and grayscale progress pics). and of course!!! disclaimer before we begin that this is just how I, personally draw comics. there is no "right way."
quip's comic-making process!
Switching my typing to make this more legible...
My process can kinda be broken down into 6 steps:
Brainstorming
Thumbnailing
Sketching
Panels & Text
Lines
Tones/Colors
1. Brainstorming
My brain is a leaky sieve on a good day, so I sloppily jot down ideas in my phone notes the moment I have them. This helps me when it's time to draw too, because if I feel art blocked, I can look through old concepts and see what catches my interest.
Otherwise, I love drawing for other people's writing. :) And if worst comes to worst, doing manga/comic page redraws in my style teaches me new things every time.
Once I have my idea, I'll usually make a bulletpoint list of "plot points" or "story beats" I want. Then I plan the comic with this format that I've adapted from a tutorial I read once. I'm going to use my most recent comic (original comic post) as an example.
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I start in the third column, writing notes of what I'd want to see in each panel. I also include the dialogue (in this case, I didn't have to write the dialogue! it's from the fanfic linked in the original comic post!). I usually write the whole name like [Luffy:], but at this point I've drawn so much of these guys, just the first letter works.
I like to handwrite these notes to get an idea for how much text I'm putting in a single panel.
After I describe all the panels, I go back and separate them into pages. I can't tell you how to know how many panels to a page. It's whatever works for you. I just kinda know about how big each panel will be, and so I can feel when I'm probably running out of space. (Also. You can change things later. I don't in this example, but I add/drop pages/panels all the time.)
2. Thumbnailing
Thumbnailing—as the name suggests—should be done tiny. Too tiny to accidentally get sucked into details.
This is about marking down blobs where items/characters go, and figuring out the paneling. I'll draw and redraw these a bunch of times too.
This is also the most time-consuming/brain-working part for me. If I were in a zine that did progress percentage, I'd try to finish thumbnailing around the 50% mark (but I'm also a moderately fast artist, so your mileage may vary).
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I think the terrible quality makes them charming, actually. I really like how silly they look. :')))
I will add, when you draw your "page" rectangle, make sure it's the same proportions as your actual canvas for the final image. You want an accurate idea of how much space each panel will take up, especially if you have a lot of text.
3. Sketching
This is my most recent change to my usual workflow, and it's saving me a lot of time. I make my thumbnails a bit bigger (each one about half the size of the final canvas), and I sketch these basic body forms right over them.
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It just helps give me placement for my actual lines!
I usually draw these in a paleish color so I can lower the opacity and not get distracted by them while lining. The random darker parts are to either help keep two forms separate (like when two characters have their limbs all over) or to better define sections that were too sloppy/poorly proportioned.
I also think this helps my poses stay looser, because I have more dramatic/wriggly shapes that aren't too bogged down by proportions yet.
Sidenote: I CANNOT show this here, but sometimes this is when I take videos. Of myself. I prop my phone camera up and shoot a video of me acting each panel. :/// It looks really dumb, but it also shows me fun body language ideas like hand gestures, expressions, weight distribution, etc. Just pretend you're an overdramatic cartoon character, and try not to worry about your roommates or mother walking in on you doing odd things. (You can also use the video for anatomy reference later, but I usually just capture the vibe and don't try to copy the actual video frame.)
4. Panels & Text
Oh, boy. So, the panels are usually just straight lines (though it's fun to make creative exceptions, like a round panel to mimic looking through a spyglass), but there are some fancy rules that I don't strictly adhere to.
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I believe (I have no technical training in this. Take everything I say with a grain of salt) the vertical gaps (between two side-by-side panels) should all be a consistent width and the horizontal gaps (between two panels on top of each other) should be another. The vertical ones? Should be thinner? Because you want the eye to easily glide between them, whereas the horizontal gaps should be a visual barrier to keep you from jumping ahead. Just something I've vaguely noticed.
There are lots of fun "default layouts" you can look up. Or keep it a consistent grid. I think it's fun to sometimes have characters/objects sticking out of panels and overlapping others. This is just a matter of taste, creativity, and inspiration. (Read Witch Hat Atelier... It has some of my favorite paneling...)
You may also notice I have already done the speech bubbles. This is, to me, a crucial step. This helps me catch early if I don't have enough room for all the words. It also lets me plan the art in each panel with the speech bubbles in mind. There's nothing worse than working really hard on a panel, and then you realize there's no room for the bubbles.
I also try to lay them out in a way that guides the eye! Even without art, can people tell where to go next? Better yet, if I want people to look at panels out of order (aka not left to right, in my case), can I use the speech bubble path to make them? Here's just a vague example of what I mean.
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As an added bonus, doing speech bubbles early also allows me to be lazy! :) Ignore the comic; I'm not supposed to post it yet oops,, There's a whole lot of drawing to do on each comic page, and I am not wasting my time on stuff that will be covered up. So yes, if I hide my bubbles, there are a lot of unfinished lines trailing off into nothing. (As a bonus, if there's a part of a character you're struggling with—and it won't look weird to do so—you can move speech bubbles to just hide the problem area yayyy)
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Making the actual bubbles could be their own whole tutorial, tbh, but there are some general guidelines I use.
Zoom out when you choose your font size. You want to know how it will look to the average reader, so it isn't super teeny tiny or way too big. You generally want to keep the same text size for all your pages/bubbles.
When I draw bubbles, I try to size them about one vertical letter height (and some change) around the words [left side]. This isn't always the case though, because humorously large or funny shaped text bubbles can convey different feelings [right side].
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On Procreate, I set my bubble lines to Reference and just drag-and-drop the white fill on a separate layer below the lines. (Remember to turn Reference back off again when you're done, or your fill bucket won't work right when you're drawing.)
To get the white outlines I use to keep the bubbles from cluttering up the art, I literally just Gaussian blur an all-white copy of the lines + fills... and then I copy and merge it 5 times until it's opaque enough. This is a terrible way to do it, but it works for me. :')
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5. Lines
This is the part that I can't tell you how to do. I literally just. Draw right over my wacky sketched body forms. Boom. Comic drawn.
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I'll make three suggestions:
Don't focus on making every panel perfect. Give a little extra love to big ones or ones you want people to linger on. Otherwise, know that people are typically speeding through the art. It's way more important to focus on storytelling than art technique. In my opinion, a good story that's told well will always be better than a beautiful one told poorly. (Some comics are beautiful AND well-written... Alas, I am just a hobbyist who needs to get the ideas out of my head at top speed.)
Put your background lines on a different layer. Put your foreground lines on a different layer too, if you have those. Basically, I try to keep the main part of each panel (usually a character or object) on my lines layer so I can erase background/foreground/etc lines to ensure clarity/focus.
You can make background lines lighter colors too. I have too many numbers sorry. (1) Background. The stuff that's farthest away. Lightest lines. Few details; more focused on shapes and the suggestion of a background (I'm not good at backgrounds). (2) Midground. Same distance away as the characters are. Lines can be black. (3) Also midground, and also the same distance away. But they're very detailed, so I lighten them so they aren't so distracting. (4) The characters. Black lines for focus. For people who haven't seen the comic, I swear they are just hugging. This is SFW. D:
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6. Tones/Colors
Do not. Do NOT ask me. I don't understand colors. I hate working with them, but I try because I want to improve. I hate doing anything beyond the simplest grayscale shading. Please go elsewhere for your coloring/tone advice. This is how my color picker looks 95% of the time. I have pre-set "percentages" of black that I got by lowering the opacity of a black layer and just color picking it. I don't even know the exact percentages I used. Good luck out there. Be better than me.
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7. Sharing
This is a bonus step that I didn't mention earlier, but it's actually the most important of all of them.
You need a friend. Or maybe a groupchat or discord. A family member or coworker if you're really close like that. I don't know.
Find SOMEWHERE you can spam wips and be cheered on. Drawing comics takes a while, especially if you're trying to tell longer stories than I'd dare to attempt. If I don't force someone to praise me for every line I draw, I shrivel up and die.
Also if and when you post online, add alt text. I'll admit I'm the first person to complain and drag my feet on this, and I literally use a screenreader myself when my eyes hurt (strong prescription glasses wearer). Comics should be accessible, because stories are fun and everyone should be able to enjoy them.
***
Learning???
And I guess lastly, how do you learn to make comics? Two steps: 1) read them and 2) make them. This is the tragedy of creating things.
1) Reading them: I grew up reading comic strips, western serialized comics, and webcomics. I've always loved graphic novels too. Then in late middle school, I started reading manga (Death Note and Haikyuu were my first two), and now I'm trying to read more webtoons (sorry im so slow bree)!
I also... mass-consume doujinshi, thanks to proxy mailing services and bilingual friends/Google Translate/knowing some Korean. (I have an entire bookshelf of doujin, actually,,)
The thing is, it's not usually enough to just read comics. You also need to be thinking. :/ I notice paneling, comic devices, clever comedic timing, etc. as I go. It's just a lot of studying/learning while also enjoying the story.
2) Making them: You just have to start. :( Even if you think they're "bad." My first comics were actually just drawings placed randomly all over the page, connected by speech bubbles (yay... I was already practicing how to place bubbles to lead the eye around the page...). I was going to post a pic here, but I'm a coward. Backscroll my account and you can find some older ones though.
I also know my art in general improved dramatically when I did ten comics in ten weeks for my friend's fic. Don't do this. It hurt my hands/wrists. But do practice in moderation.
***
If you actually read all that... I hope it made even a modicum of sense. And maybe it was even helpful? Just know at the end of the day, there is literally no right way to draw a comic.
And if you aren't ready to go for it yet, you can start by just adding a couple speech bubbles to your illustrations or doodles! It's a way to add storytelling and dialogue writing to things you may already be making.
Yay. I love comics. :))))
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exormilion · 2 days ago
Text
vermilion tenderness
abby anderson/reader
word count: 4,144
summary: abby makes your endometriosis a bit more bearable. period comfort, non sexual nudity and intimacy.
note: i suffer a lot with my periods and decided to really write something endo-related cuz i think we deserve sum love and care <3 hope you like it :D
link to ao3
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You were used to it by now.
Okay, well, maybe ‘used’ wasn't the right word when you were curled in bed with tears in your eyes and head pounding while you curled your arms around your belly, desperate for relief, but you already knew how it went.
This agony never had an end, all you could do was survive through it.
When you first arrived at the WLF, you did your best to keep it down. You were weak, this place was all you had now and you tried your damn best not to seem useless, a waste of resource, pushing past limits that had you sobbing quietly into your pillow at night, trying not to bother your past roomate.
It all went down the drain when you passed out during patrol, the warm day piling up with the cramps and the dizziness and you just faceplanted the soft grass, the sudden silence weirdly comforting and when you finally opened your eyes, strong arms held you sitted and supported your head, a woman with beautiful light eyes and angelic dark blonde hair and-
“Abby?”, you ask, mortified, finally coming back to yourself. You barely talked to the woman, too intimidated by her build, fame and friends, the popularity around her name was enough to keep you away. Her eyebrows were furrowed, face tense as she scanned you for any bruise. Eyeing around, you were glad it was at least the two of you, the other people patrolling far enough not to hear or see your embarrassing moment.
“What happened? Are you okay?”, she looks at your face, putting her palm on your sweaty, strangely cold skin, “You’re pale, have you eaten?”
Yeah, you have. You just had to make a quick stop to throw up until you were dry retching before the patrol, the nausea so intense you were praying you wouldn’t vomit bile on the car, eyes strained to your boots as you clutched your gun to your chest, breathing through your mouth and swallowing thickly.
“No, i- It’s fine. I tripped. Sorry.”, muttering, you tried your best to get away from her grasp, dying from embarrassment. She respected that but stayed kneeled on the floor next to you, curious.
“Tripped? Yeah, sure. On grass.”, her eyes studied around for the colleagues, and after making sure you were still alone and safe, she took her backpack from her back and looked for something inside.
You just sat there, still dizzy, feeling your fingers tingling and vision splotchy. It wasn’t worth trying to stay composed, she found you dropped to the floor like a brick and the damage was alredy done.
You blink when she offers you something - a silver package, and you look up at her in confusion.
“Food. Take a bite, looks like you need it”, she nudges your hand with it, expectantly.
You felt like crying. Just the idea of eating made you want to vomit, but the care in the act was enough to make you hold it down. Nodding, you take the wrap, opening the sandwich and taking a piece of the bread with your hand, chewing almost painfully on the bite.
“Thanks”, you swallow, your upset stomach alredy churning but you did your beat to swallow another two pieces before giving it back to her, wrapped carefully. She didn't comment on your lack of enthusiasm about food.
“No problem”, she puts the sandwich inside her bag again, still curious about your state. “You sure you’re okay?”
You nod, fixing your backpack and taking your gun from where it was dropped, getting up slowly on shaky legs.
Able to walk again like a baby deer, you went back to patrol. You could feel Abby now following around and you couldn't even be mad about it - despite the embarrassment, it was somehow comforting to know that she would still look after you, even if you were pulling the team down.
The real shame would crawl inside your guts later, getting out of the truck. You both were the last to leave the trunk, Abby offering a hand to help with the big step and you could cry from how thankful you felt, the cramps down to your thighs and knees made the simple act seem like a mile run. Your feet hit the floor, you’re glad the truck ride is over, hands clutching your backpack strips anxiously.
“Oh, wait-”, she holds your wrist to hold you from leaving and told the other colleagues to go ahead as she wanted to talk to you. You were tired, in pain and now so anxious about the talk that you could faint all over again. “You… could have told me it was your period, you know? I know we barely talked, but i know it can be hard”
You swallow, face heating up. She looked shy about the topic and for someone her size she was extremely sensitive.
“How do you-”
Gasping, the awareness hits you. Did you leak? The uncomfortable warmth and stickiness between your legs couldn't have gone past the pad, right?
“Hey, it’s alright. Look, i can walk you to your room, i’m sure no one noticed it”, patting your shoulder gently, she nods her head, “It scared me, seing you unconscious like that. Come on, you could use some rest.”
The walk to your room was a bit awkward, Abby doing her best to shield the blood from behind your pants while you fidget with your thumbs till you were standing in front of your room, pondering what to do now.
“There you go. You should take a shower and rest for a bit”, another minute of silence follows before she speaks again, “Is it… always this bad? Your periods?”
“Yeah, it is”, Abby frowned at your answer. That wasn't normal, was it? “I’m used to it, it just gets worse from time to time”
“To the point you pass out?”
“Well, sometimes-”
“Have you talked to Nora?”
You haven’t, and you didn’t plan to - that was until Abby forced you to see the woman a few days after that talk, with a pang in her heart since you were still in terrible pain and bleeding but it would probably be for the better if Nora could see and understand how you were feeling.
Abby didn’t know why, but she was worried sick about you. When you first arrived, hurt, alone and nervously curled into yourself, she didn’t think much of it. She said a few words to you here and there, nothing that justified her need to take care of you but that was just how Abby was. She cared.
Nora asked you a feel questions, felt your bloated belly with the tips of her fingers (apologizing when you hissed and tensed but she wanted to understand the issue) while Abby sat on a stool by the exit of the closed tent, looking down at her hands respectfully but listening carefully.
“We don’t have much left about gynecology, the few books i managed to put my hands in wasn’t near enough…”, Nora helps you sit up on the gurney. She was pretty nice, you liked her - even if it was only because of Abby, not a lot of people validated your pain. “But there is this one condition called endometriosis and from what you’ve told me, it’s very fitting with your symptoms”
Abby perked up on her sit, looking curiously at her friend while she explained briefly how it worked. The conclusion made your shoulders sag and the blonde tense up.
“So there’s nothing to do about it?”, reluctantly she asked, sitting straight on the stool.
“There was never much study about it before the outbreak, so nothing is clear… i’m sorry”, Nora squeezes your shoulder, sighing. “The best you can do is always try to eat a bit to help with the dizziness, even when you’re nauseous, and stay hydrated. I mean very hydrated, as much as you can, you lose too much blood and throwing up as well… not good”
Great. Now that was a way of living.
“And”, she walks to her desk and takes a heavy green bag, preparing to leave. Nora never stayed at the same place for more than ten minutes - it was not easy to be a medic, “I’ll try to separate some meds and hygiene products that arrive to this wing when i can. It’s the best i can do. Sorry, i have to go, need to tend some guys that found a group of scars on patrol. Take care.”
She gave you a small smile and a nod, moving to the door. You heard her mutter a ‘look after her, hm?’ to Abby before disappearing from the medical tent, leaving behind your disappointed and tired self and the buff woman sitting awkwardly on the stool.
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you kick your feet from where you where sitting on the gurney, getting up with a grunt. You look at Abby who got up as stepped closer and your tongue worked before you could think about it.
“Why… exactly are you doing this? You don’t have to waste your time, i won’t hold you guys behind”, eyes finding the floor when you notice her approach, you almost jump out of your skin when her rough palm finds your forearm, trying to get your attention.
“That’s not what i worry about, i’m worried about you”, that makes you huff and glare at her.
“Why would you worry about me?”, you laugh, rubbing your eyes. You were in so much pain that your thoughts were cloudy and you just wanted to scream and cry and turn into a little ball. “I just got here a few months ago, you barely know me… what do you want from me?”
She took your wrists in her hands, holding your hand away from your face so she could look right into your eyes when she talked to you.
“I don’t want anything, i just want you to feel a little better. That’s all.” her cheeks got a cute shade of pink as she thought about her words “I told you before, but i got really worried when i saw you passed out on patrol that day. I’m sorry if it’s making you uncomfortable, it wasn't my intention to suffocate you, i just… i can’t shake this feeling off”
Two weeks after that, you pulled her into a kiss.
She was teaching you how to shoot - you knew your way with a pistol, but bigger guns were still a work in progress and Abby was happy to give you a bit of her knowledge when period was over and the cramps lingering wasn’t nearly as bad as before.
Shotguns were scary, you quickly find out, the earmuffs did nothing to cover up the sound and by the time Abby put the thing in your hands, you could hear a ringing noise echoing.
“... got it?”
You didn’t, but you weren’t weak.
Holding the gun up like she did - or almost, as she brought one hand to your scapula and the other to your elbow, the booth tiny enough that she was almost pressed to you. Even with the earmuffs, you felt her voice deep in your ears.
“There we go. Keep your stance firm and you’re good.”
“Okay…”
You were definitely not as firm as you should, distracted by her. The recoil made the gun slam on your shoulder and almost hit your face, nothing much happened but the scare made you let out a yelp and widen your eyes.
“You okay?”, she laughed but eyed you with concern, taking off her earmuffs. “Recoil is the worst part, but you did well.”
The gun was put on the little desk as well as both earmuffs, you lean your hips against it to look at her, heart still strong on your chest.
“M good, just scared me. Should probably stick to a pistol till i get the grip, though”, you laughed too.
The smell of gunpowder was grounding, Abby smelled like gunpowder most of the time and you got used to it pretty quickly.
You got used to Abby pretty quickly - not only that but the hope of spending time with her lingered, specially when she checked on you everyday, asking about your pain and bringing you food when you felt bad enough not to go to the cafeteria. No one has ever shown this amount of care for you.
“You’ll learn quick, you’re doing well”, she walked closer to you on the table to unload the gun, your eyes attentive to her experienced hands as she did.
She was so kind to you. You wondered what you have done to possibly deserve a woman like that willingly wanting to make you feel better and caring for you, it made your heart clench on your chest.
“Mhm, i have a great professor”, tilting your head to the side, you notice how her hands falter on the gun and a stupid little smile finds her lips. She glances at you, something you didn’t know shining in her eyes.
“Oh? Should i be concerned about this professor of yours taking my teaching spot?”
Fuck.
“Hmmm, dunno. She’s really great…”
She completely abandoned the gun, crossing her arms over her chest with her head tilted as she stared into your face. Her forearms looked specially beefy and veiny when she did so, her usual thank top leaving nothing to imagination.
“I’ll go after this teacher of yous, tell her to be careful… no one steals my student like that”
You know what? Fuck this.
Wasn’t worth overthinking about this, specially not when Abby’s lips were so incredibly soft and her big body fit so comfortably against yours, her arms hugging you closer and making you feel tiny and safe. You weren’t able to spend a single day without her lips after that.
But that was months ago, and now you were sad and lonely and in indescribable pain inside yours and Abby’s room, a few desolated tears running down your face.
Your gut was telling you about something being off for a few days, but you were almost always in pain so it didn’t mean much until you woke up in the middle of the night in unbearable pain and raw red blood almost pooling under you. Abby woke with your movements and let out a compassionate hiss, arms dropping from your waist as she got up to help you to the bathroom. She was a blessed human.
Now, hours later, the bloodied sheets were gone, a washed out green one taking its place and the matress stained. Abby had to leave you to do something with someone - you didn’t know, you were so deep in pain when she talked that you just stared at her pretty face and nodded until she left with a kiss on the tip of your nose and another on your lips, saying she’d be back soon and wishing you better.
Not able to do anything but sulk, you stayed there. You got up twice the whole day, both to go to the bathroom and change the overfilling pads and pee painfully, quickly back to the cocoon on the bed and miraculously falling asleep.
It was restless and deep, somehow. You woke up feeling like you were ran over but the sun was alredy setting in the distance so it was a very long nap, enough for Abby to be back and sat by the end of the bed with a book in hand, the other gently gripping at your foot as she read.
Always the physical contact lover.
“Hey”, your voice was hoarse, breaking. She immediately closed the book and scooched closer to your head, laying next to you to put her face closer to yours.
“Hey, baby”, the kiss she gave your forehead felt almost healing, but maybe that was just her presence. “Still that bad?”
“Yeah, not good”, rasping out, you bury your face on her chest. She showered, smelled clean and so Abby, and you wished you could’ve showered with her. “Could've woken me… when you got back”
“You looked so tired even in your sleep, didn’t have the heart to bother your rest”, her arms wrapped around you, one of her hands slipping under your shirt to rub your lower back. It was a bad cramping spot but her hands always soothed you, even if just a tiny bit.
“Hm, but i wanna be with you…”
“I’m with you now, baby. Don’t worry”, she cooed, pressing you closer to her chest. “Did you eat anything today?”
The answer was a shake of your head. She expected that and didn’t pry, instead putting you delicately back in bed (she had to kiss you a few times and whisper against your mouth that she was not leaving and just needed to get something until you released her shirt) and finding her bag on the couch. You looked at her with half lidded eyes, a déja-vu hitting you when she took a wrapping and walked back to bed, sitting on the edge.
“Abby”, you whine, turning to the other side and pulling the comforter to your ears, “Don’t wanna eat, i’ll just throw it all up. It’s useless.”
Always so patient with you, she pulled the comforter down, getting your ear between her thumb and pointer and squeezing just a bit.
“I know you get sick, baby. I’ll never understand how it feels but i see how bad it gets and i hate seeing you like that. I’d never do this if it wasn’t for your own good.”, she cupped your cheek and turned your face in her direction, caressing your skin, “But the more you stay without eating the sicker you’ll get, and you can’t go without food forever. Please, just a bite? Just one?”
You hate her stupid puppy eyes and how they always work.
With her help, you sit up in bed. She moves to stay behind you and pulls your back against her chest, not minding your disgustingly sweaty shirt and clammy skin.
“I don’t wanna eat”, your murmur was almost tearful as you watched her open the burrito wrap, turning your face away against her arm to get away from the smell.
“Baby”, she cups your face with her free hand to look at you from an awkward angle thanks to the position you both sat on, concerned eyes finding yours with care. “Hey. I promise i won’t make you eat more than one bite, but you need to have a little something to eat today. I can’t even give you any meds if your stomach is this empty, ‘s not good for you.”
You held your breath while you chewed the damn thing to hide the taste and swallowed hard. You pushed the wrap back into her hand and sighed, gripping her thigh with discomfort.
“Hate this.”
“I know, baby, i hate it too”, she pecked your shoulder, leaving the food somewhere behind her on the bed. “What do you think about a warm shower?”
“Sounds heavenly, actually”, leaning your head back against her shoulder when you were sure the food wasn’t coming up again, you look at her through your lashes. “I know you already showered but can you help me?”
“Of course i can”, she gets up and takes you in her arms, one hand behind your knees and the other on your lower back, the walk to the bathroom was nothing to her while she held your weight.
“You didn’t have to carry me, you know”, you laugh, kissing her cheek before she put you sat on the toilet lid.
“I wanted to”, booped your nose, stretching her arm inside the shower to turn the hot water on. “Isn’t that the whole reason i work out? To carry my girlfriend anywhere she needs me to?”
“Mhm, that’s right. Work it, Anderson”
She helped you undress, your hand never leaving her shoulder since your dizziness has been a pain in the ass. Abby was completely unbothered by your blood and all the disgusting things surrounding this - she loved taking care of you, this would never be enough to push her away. Taking advantage of the fact she was crouched in front of you, a gentle kiss was given to your bloated lower belly, right under your bellybutton.
“I saw the dogs today. Helped Mel with the cleaning, Bear licked my entire face”, she got up and kicked her own clothes off. Her hands were gentle when she tied your hair away from your face and neck, not wanting to get it wet as it was already pretty late. By the time you had the spray of hot water on your back, blood dripped down your legs, turning the puddle under your feet a nasty orange color. She didn’t care, just found the soap and started washing your body. “Alice was Alice, always with that purple octopus she likes so much. They are just like little kids.”
“I love them so much”, you sigh, dropping your forehead on her shoulder. Being skin to skin with Abby made everything better - she was always so warm, so incredibly soft despite the muscles. You wish you could turn smaller to curl into a little ball and sleep on her tummy, like a cat.
“I love you”, her hands bring soap to your neck, rubbing the tender spots with the tips of fingers.
“Love you more”
She washed every inch of your skin with extreme care. Under your arms, your chest, belly, legs and feet, between your legs and, lastly, your face. She gathered soap on the tip of her fingers and massaged your cheeks, mindful of your eyes, your arms hugging her waist while she did so.
“Skin is so soft”, mutters her loving voice, brushing the bubbles from your face with her wet hand. She didn’t shower again, having undressed only to keep her clothes dry, working quick for a fast but calming shower, aware of the fact you only needed the bed and rest in moments like this.
Making sure you were stabilized and snuggled up with a towel, she left the bathroom just for a minute to look for a pair of panties. You’d both normally sleep naked with every inch of skin glued together - why she didn’t dress up again -, so your only coverage was the underwear with the pad safely stuck inside (bless Nora for actually saving a few for you) that Abby pulled carefully up your legs.
“Thanks, Abs. For all of this”, you put your towel back on the hook, suddenly fatigued all over again.
“Don’t thank me, baby. You know I love being able to take care of you”
Then you found yourself in bed again, heavy covers over your body and tangled with Abby. You laid on your belly (somehow, the pressure of the mattress on your belly helped a lot), Abby cuddled to your side with her cheek pressed on your shoulder and her arm resting on your lower back, caressing the skin from the side of your body with her rough fingers.
Always warm, always gentle. You never got tired of surprising yourself with how soft she could be.
You could feel her breast pressed against your arm and back, deep breathing pressing it harder into your skin and her heartbeat was strong, just like her heart. Selfless, big, pulsing hard inside that body but not for her own sake, never just that.
You turn to your side, getting face to face with her. Your whole body ached, the cramps were slowly creeping up your spine but nothing seemed as bad when her beautifully shiny eyes stared at you like you were the sun, even when you were in pain and insufferable.
One of your hands finds that little spot in the middle of her chest, feeling her heart in your palm. You wished you could cradle her pretty heart in your arms and tend to every little pain caused to it.
“Really, Abigail. I love you so, so much. Thank you for always taking care of me.”
And her smile. The way her cheeks went up and her cute little freckles moved with her skin, a little more apparent thanks to the summer sun, her eyes just a little squinted and always looking at you, her pouty lips pulled into the most beautiful and warm smile to ever exist.
The menstrual hormones were killing you. You wanted to bawl your eyes out every time you looked at your own girlfriend.
“There is nothing in this world I would rather do instead of taking care of you, baby. I love you more than anything and it means everything to me”, she kisses your lips, softly, and pulls you closer. “Now rest. Let’s sleep a bit of this pain away.”
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pixiexdusts-world · 15 hours ago
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Meet the Heffley’s
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Rodrick Heffley x reader
Summary: Rodrick’s girlfriend meets his chaotic family, and Manny tries to steal her. She loves it anyway.
Word count: 1010
Notes: this is very random but I love Rodrick so I needed to write something
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Title: Meet the Heffleys
Meeting your boyfriend’s family is supposed to be a big deal, right? Like, one of those moments where you dress nice, bring flowers or something, and sit down for an awkwardly polite dinner while his parents judge you.
Yeah. That’s not how things work with Rodrick Heffley.
When he invited me over for dinner, it was more like, “Hey, my mom said you should come over and eat with us or whatever.” Super romantic. But I agreed because, well… I wanted to meet them. Rodrick talks about his family all the time, mostly to complain, but still. I was curious.
So, here I am, standing on the Heffleys’ front porch, wondering if I should have brought something. Probably not. This doesn’t seem like the kind of house where formal dinner etiquette exists.
Before I can knock, the door swings open, and there he is.
Rodrick smirks, leaning against the doorframe like he’s so cool. “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.”
I roll my eyes, stepping closer. “I’m on time.”
“Yeah, well, you were supposed to be, like, ten minutes late so I could say something sarcastic about it.”
I laugh and kiss his cheek, just to make him flustered. It works. His smirk falters for half a second before he clears his throat and steps aside. “Alright, come in before my mom starts thinking I made you up.”
The inside of the house is exactly what I expected. A little messy, with random shoes lying around, a stack of newspapers no one’s bothered to throw away, and a distinct family chaos vibe. The smell of dinner cooking comes from the kitchen, something warm and homey.
And then I hear it.
“Rodrick! She’s here?!”
Before I can react, a woman appears—short, blonde, and way too excited. I barely have time to brace myself before she pulls me into a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Susan, Rodrick’s mom. Oh, you’re even prettier than I imagined!”
“Uh, thanks,” I manage, shooting a look at Rodrick, who just shrugs like, Yeah, this is happening.
His mom pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “Rodrick never tells us anything about his personal life. You should’ve seen my face when he said he had a girlfriend. I almost dropped my coffee!”
Rodrick groans. “Mom.”
“What?” She waves him off. “I’m just happy to meet her. Oh, come in, come in! We’re just about to set the table.”
I follow her into the dining room, where a younger boy sits at the table, flipping through a comic book. He glances up, eyes narrowing slightly.
“You’re Rodrick’s girlfriend?”
“Greg,” Susan scolds. “Be nice.”
“What? I’m just saying.” Greg shrugs, then looks at me. “You do know he’s, like, the worst, right?”
“Hey, shut up, loser,” Rodrick snaps, dropping into a chair.
I grin. “Oh, I know.”
Greg blinks, clearly not expecting that. Then he mutters, “Huh. Okay.”
That’s when I feel a tiny hand grab mine.
I glance down to see a little kid—Manny, I recognize him from Rodrick’s rare stories about him—staring up at me with big eyes.
“I have a girlfriend too,” he announces proudly.
Susan gasps. “Manny! Since when?”
“Since yesterday,” he says, like it’s obvious. Then he looks back up at me and asks, completely serious, “Do you like dinosaurs?”
I nod. “Who doesn’t like dinosaurs?”
Manny grins, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Okay. You’re my second girlfriend now.”
Rodrick groans. “Oh my God.”
Greg snickers. “Dude, you already have competition.”
Manny tugs at my sleeve again. “Rodrick is gross. Do you wanna be just my girlfriend instead?”
Rodrick drops his fork. “Are you kidding me? Mom, tell him he can’t steal my girlfriend!”
Susan barely holds back a laugh. “Manny, sweetie, she’s Rodrick’s girlfriend.”
Manny huffs. “Fine.”
This is amazing.
Dinner is… interesting. The food is good—spaghetti and garlic bread—but the conversation is pure chaos. Susan keeps asking me questions about school, my family, my plans for the future (Rodrick groans at that one). Greg watches me like he’s trying to figure out why I’d willingly date his brother. And Manny? He spends the whole meal making dramatic faces at Rodrick and occasionally whispering, “Rodrick is a doo-doo head.”
Rodrick spends most of the meal making sarcastic comments and kicking me under the table whenever his mom gets too nosy.
At one point, their dad, Frank, comes in late, looking exhausted. He gives me a polite nod, sits down, and immediately starts ranting about something Rodrick did last week. Rodrick barely reacts, just shoveling food into his mouth while his mom scolds him and Greg smirks like he enjoys watching his brother get in trouble.
It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s so different from my own family’s quiet dinners.
And I kind of love it.
After we eat, Rodrick grabs my hand and tugs me toward the stairs. “Alright, we’re done here. Bye.”
“Rodrick, wait—” Susan starts, but he’s already leading me to his room.
The second he shuts the door, he groans. “I told you my family was annoying.”
I flop onto his bed, laughing. “I like them.”
He gives me a look. “You like them?”
“Yeah. Your mom is sweet, Greg is funny, and Manny… well, he’s trying to steal me, but other than that, he’s adorable.”
Rodrick snorts. “I knew that kid was trouble.”
I smile and lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Not worried, are you?”
He grumbles something under his breath, but I can tell he’s relieved. And maybe even a little happy.
Yeah. I think I’m gonna like being around the Heffleys.
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felixcloud6288 · 2 days ago
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Dungeon Meshi Chapter 86
The final battle is upon us. Who will decide what's for dinner tonight?
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As with all moments like this, Izutsumi is part of these group therapy sessions against her will.
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Amazing transition back to reality. It's the exact same image with a different background.
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I still feel like the lion is lying about who it can or must serve. Marcille currently desires to fix her mistakes and stop the monsters she summoned, but that goes against what the lion wants from her. So it's instead choosing to ignore that in favor of fulfilling a more base desire for safety from a presumed threat.
This fakeout really got me.
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Laios's arm seems to be in a bit of pain after that. Since his hand had to get put into the seal as well, its effects are probably creeping up his arm.
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Again, I think the lion lies when it talks about how it serves its master. It's been manipulating Marcille to make her desire what will make her use the lion's power for the lion's aims. Looks like sealing the demon gives the dungeon lord a way to channel the lion's power exactly the way you want without it being able to manipulate anything.
On a side note, when Thistle and Mithrun became dungeon lords, their demons were small and grew larger over time. The lion was already big when Marcille became a lord. I'm curious if part of what caused Marcille to immediately spiral was because the lion was already strong. Maybe it took Mithrun and Thistle a few years to get to Marcille's point because their demons had to build up strength.
Laios and Marcille are two halves of the same person. They share 20 brain cells collectively, but the actual range of braincells either of them has at a given moment ranges from 15 to -5. And when one of them becomes a super genius, the other becomes muppet-brained. The only difference between them is Laios loves acting like a muppet while Marcille doesn't.
I've missed Marcille's muppet-brained moments so much. For all her intelligence, she's also the last one to realize things.
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Namari had complete faith in Laios.
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Last we saw of Fleki, her familiar was being torn apart by wyverns so she probably had to be killed and resurrected again.
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I saw this panel of Flamela stepping on a walking mushroom and tried to come up with a silly pun about her turning a toadstool into a footstool. But toadstools refer to inedible or poisonous mushrooms and this type is most likely edible so it isn't a toadstool. And footstools are foot supports to lift your feet while sitting and Flamela is not doing anything like that nor is she using it like that. Pretend that I made a funny mushroom pun that is lexiconically correct and laugh at this image of Flamela stepping on a walking mushroom while yelling into her fairy.
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Flamela isn't even nice to her fairy.
The island is getting restructured into a dungeon's maze-like design.
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The soldiers are fighting what I believe are small wyrms.
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Laios's father is watching and waiting. Falin still writes to her parents so he knows his children are at ground zero of all this.
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Flamela is not giving the party much reason to want to work with the Canaries here. And this is ignoring how the situation was heavily due to the Canaries withholding information and assaulting the party to begin.
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If you spin a magnet fast enough, it's possible to make it levitate above another magnet. For years, it was believed impossible to actually make a magnet levitate over another and Earnshaw's theorem proved that it's not possible for a static magnet to float above another one without it either getting flipped or pushed away. But then someone decided to try spinning the magnet in place and it turns out that the rotation of the magnet counters the forces that would normally push or flip the magnet, causing it to float.
Anyway, that story popped into my head at this moment. Laios is suggesting they do something that no one has ever done and everyone knows cannot be done. But Laios is both ignorant of everything and he doesn't think in conventional ways. So he could achieve the impossible because he'll come up with ideas no one considered.
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Everyone else thinks of the demons in terms of man-eating monsters or forces of nature. But Laios is thinking of the demon more like if it was a person with its own goals it wants to accomplish.
Finally. Someone is actually going to listen to Laios.
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Based on the reactions of Flamela's teammates, it's not uncommon for Mithrun to teleport people away when he's annoyed with them.
Mithrun at least understands the situation. The world is doomed whether or not Laios actually has a way to beat the demon. So they might as well let him try. Mithrun's eye turned silver as he told Laios to do what he couldn't.
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New idea to the lion and how it decides to grant wishes: When it's unsealed and has a lord, it binds itself to that lord. But when it gets sealed, it can more freely respond to anyone's desires.
The lion should be sealed in Thistle's book, but it appeared before everyone in response to Laios's desire to defeat it. And then it waited a moment so Laios could demand he share a meal with everyone if he wins.
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Some walking mushrooms fell off the lion construct.
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The tower wasn't attached to anything. It was just a tower floating over the water.
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Well that was an anticlimactic end to this series. Oh well. It was an enjoyable read the whole way through. Thanks for following my readthrough everyone.
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I'm with Kabru. There's something horrible about the end of the world feeling like a bad joke.
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Wait, I got it!! Flamela turned the walking mushroom into a stepping stool!!
back
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questionable-idea · 4 months ago
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hey past me who wrote this late at night, what the fuck
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celtrist · 4 months ago
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Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet
#Celtrist#cel rambles#I don't particularly care how abundant the merch is on shark robot#It literally feels like they'll take a scrap of anything and make it a pin#Like the Moxie Antartica pin Really sir and a bunch others where they're just a random frame from the show#I mean they're FUN frames at least but I swear I've seen some real random ones that don't even make sense to be a pin#AND I'M SORRY WHY DO THEY HAVE SO MUCH MERCH OF CHARACTERS THAT I CAN'T IMAGINE BEING THOUGHT TWICE ABOUT#Sallie Mae fine I can see why people like her and want merch#Chaz is pushing it especially seeing as he's pretty dead but fine I suppose he has his fans#Glitz and Glam? Okay you already fucked up not going with their beta designs but who really was looking at them and thinking “I want merch”#But fine. I'm sure they have their fans#BUT FREAKING MUFFY?? THE VET RECEPTIONIST? WHO TF WAS ASKING FOR A PIN OF HER? DID YOU EVEN KNOW HER NAME?#They do that shit all the time and it aggravates me. They seem to go by a “quantity over quality” thing.#Which their quality is great btw but the quantity of things they have for characters that don't even matter and are seen once is rediculous#Also when I was gonna look up when we were gonna meet Vassago I saw he was an overlord in the pilot#Curious if that's gonna stay. What's to say overlords can't be hellborns or goetia#Is he a goetia? Not sure.#P-point is I like their merch and the new batch seems to mostly be uniquely made to be merch and I like that#But the amount of “garbage” (that's mean but best way I can put it) merch that has a character little to no one would care about#Or is essentially JUST a screen grab from the show is annoying and just pointlessly fills the shop pages#And while I see from a business perspective why they'd put Vassago out especially since some already like him#I also just think it's silly for him to already have merch when we haven't seen his character other than in the trailer#Surprised they don't have merch of satan out yet lol#Okay but I would've approved only so they could make a krampus joke with him#Granted I don't care about Helluva as much as Hazbin#But can't help to be more critical of it when it has a lot of problems Hazbin has aside from pacing#But absolutely NO excuse or leeway for the reason of the sloppy writing that's present#Lemme reiterate my good ol' phrase here:#You're not in the Sonic fandom for like 22 yrs and don't learn to be critical of the media you enjoy lol#rant
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lethality-of-dual-strike · 4 months ago
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in case you were wondering who I shipped Cupid with, it’s,,,,,a lot,,,,a lot of guys. he’s just so shippable though I can’t help it help me cupid help me break through this art block with gay
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teathyme4thedevil · 2 years ago
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~ Thyme to Introduce Myself ~
*This blog's contents may have mentions of NSFW content, but I myself will never write any full-on smut. Reblogs may be sensual though.*
Hello. You can refer to the mod of this page as Mod. I use they/them pronouns and am an adult. I write Obey Me! fanfiction, headcanons, imagines and more. If you like my work and want to stick around to see what's next in store, welcome~!
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Who's Thyme Anyways?
Whenever I write about Obey Me!'s MC, I use my MC Thyme. They are an AMAB Agender Aromantic Asexual and are in a poly queer platonic relationship with the brothers. Thyme allows the brothers to love on them, as long as they don't take it too far when doing so. The brothers are okay with Thyme only viewing them platonically as long as Thyme is okay with them having feelings for them, which they are.
It's basically the fluffiest, snuggliest one-sided relationship ever.
*Thyme will never feel sexual feelings for the brothers or anyone else. They are a non-sexual entity.
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What have you written so far?
Obey Me! Headcanons:
Demonic Behavior Headcanons #1 Demonic Behavior Headcanons #2 Demonic Romance Headcanons
Demon/Human Pact Mark Headcanons
MC's Dynamic With Each of the Brothers
Brother’s Reaction to an Aromantic Asexual MC
Obey Me! One-Shots:
Bedtime Routine - Mammon x MC
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pears-trinkets · 7 months ago
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#really randomly fell down a weird rabbit hole today#i was watching the X-Files and finally felt like reading up on david duchovny#like i see u fellow slav what kind of slav are you#so i opened up his wikipedia article and saw that his dad was jewish and from ukraine and went like AHA WE ARE THE SAME#and just out of curiosity looked up the place he's from because im curious about jewish shtetls in the ukraine#because my whole family except my biological father is from several of them and i thought hey maybe they were neighbors#which they fucking are omg theyre just 20km apart#my greatgreatgrandma is from makhnivka which i even found articles and history about and how the jewish population grew & declined#even though i did not find any steinbergs in the archives#anyway when i read up on Berdychiv where duchovnys family is from it said#early settlement by the Chernyakhov Culture#which was an archeological culture between 200 and 500 CE existing at the same time as the roman empire#....... is this how i finally find out where my name is from??????? like?????????#i wish i knew so much more than i do#like i only found out that im not russian i was just born in russia like 7 years ago or so??? because my mom never tells me anything#all the information about my great great grandparents and where theyre from is from my grandma#and her dementia is really bad now and shes just angry and screams and calls people names#my russian is too bad to properly read up on stuff like that and theres barely anything in english or german#i just want to know idk#but genetic testing is too expensive and also very america centric and the only family i have in the us is super conservative#i had to block them on facebook when my grandma made me write to them once over 10 years agl#and i know a huge chunk of my grandmas family moved to israel too so i dont want anything to do with that either#although id be curious if it would actually find my half siblings i found out about also like 8 years ago#i just wish there were more archives and more people i could talk to about this#on my grandfathers side theres nothing really left#my grandfather passed suddenly and apparently before he did he took ALL THE FAMILY PHOTOS AND DOCUMENTS somewhere to maybe digitalise them#but we dont know where so theyre literally gone for ever#but his whole family was from kiev and is apparently named after this culture era#his dad was a higher up at a sugar factory and i still cant find anything#my grandma had so many cousins and they were so interconnected and knew so much and i literally just have my mom and no one else
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rinasauruss · 3 months ago
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closer than quiet
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summary: Rafe is so tall he has to lean down to hear you better. that's it.
warnings: none, me thinks. just a suggestive line at the end ;P
word count: 590
AN: I couldn't help myself, so I wrote this blurb! this is my first time writing Rafe, let me know what you think! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. feedback is appreciated!
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The soft hum of the waves was a steady background to the crackling of the bonfire, the flames dancing as the heat mixed with the cool bite of the night breeze. You stood near the fire, feeling the warmth spread through you, but the presence behind you was what made your skin tingle the most.
Rafe was close, an arm wrapped around your waist with a casual ease that made you feel both safe and exposed at the same time. His thumb traced slow, absent circles over your stomach, his other hand holding a beer with the same relaxed grip he used when he wasn’t thinking about much at all. Topper and Kelce were deep in conversation, their voices more distant than usual, as if the world around you had faded into something quieter. Rafe barely added to the chatter, content to stay in his own head—or maybe it was you who had his full attention. You weren’t sure, but it felt like you did.
You turned your head, looking up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You good?" You asked it quietly, as though you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it anyway.
Rafe didn’t immediately respond, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. Instead, he leaned down, tilting his head as if to catch the softest whisper, even though you’d only spoken in your normal tone. His presence grew even more intense with the movement, his height hovering over you, his face drawing closer in that effortless, unspoken way that made you feel smaller and more drawn in with each inch.
"Hm?" His voice was low, just above a murmur, the sound of it vibrating through your chest.
You flushed at the gesture, a subtle warmth rising in your cheeks. His closeness, his height, the way he made the space around you feel like it shrank to just the two of you—it was disarming in the best way. His breath fanned over your skin, the warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine, and you could almost feel the heartbeat beneath his chest as he leaned in further.
You swallowed, your voice a little shakier this time. "You doing good?" You repeated, hoping your tone sounded steady, but there was no hiding the way he affected you.
Rafe’s grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he felt the slight hitch in your breath, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. It was as though he knew exactly how much he was making you feel.
"Yeah, m'good, baby," he hummed, his voice deepening in that way it did when he was in his element. "Just thinking."
"About?" you asked, a whisper now, almost afraid to ask but too curious to hold back.
He tilted his head again, moving in just a little further, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The closeness, the heat of his breath, was enough to send a shiver all the way down your spine, leaving you breathless.
The moment stretched between you, charged with unspoken words and everything that lay beneath the surface. The bonfire crackled, the night air was cool, but Rafe’s presence was all you could feel now, the pull of him drawing you in further than you’d ever planned to go.
His voice was soft, smooth, laced with that teasing edge that always made your heart skip a beat. "Just thinking about how much fun I’m gonna have taking this little dress off you later."
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(support banner by @cafekitsune )
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