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#Romance Story
one-time-i-dreamt · 4 months
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I was running away from something and did some parkour. I landed wrong, died and became the narrator of a romance story that ended with them kissing at the very place I died at.
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nadsoncitou · 4 months
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“A gente só quer amar alguém, e receber esse amor de volta.”
— Nadson Citou.
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colourstreakgryffin · 11 months
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A quick romance story shitpost for my main babe Obanai simp needs!
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🐍💜- Giggling Mess; Iguro Obanai x Jokester! Reader
The Hashira are surprised that somebody like the Serpent Hashira, Iguro Obanai would be interested in somebody like you, the giddy jokester Ice Hashira. You are total opposites of each other;
he’s unforgiving and serious, you’re bubbly and light-hearted. He can’t stand humour whilst you live off humour
But yet, Obanai finds himself falling for you harder and harder each time he sees you and his intense love for you is so obvious to all the Hashira… except the one where it matters the most… Dokusha
Obanai adores you, your adorable oneliners makes him crack a uncontrollable smile underneath that mask and roll his eyes. He loves how much of a jokester you are, nothing is serious to you and he wouldn’t trade your personality for the world
No matter that if it came off as annoying or not at times
Obanai does wonder sometimes if you even know how dangerous and intense your Hashira career actually is. You flaunter it around like it’s simply a work skill, not a massive life-changing responsibility
That must be why Obanai likes you so much, you never let the hell of the Hashira training nor the general situation damage you. He idolises your beauty, on both spectrums
You let loose your soft laughter, your goofy grin never fading. Tengen pushed back the gem-decorated headband over his head with a sassy smirk that you felt yourself laugh more at your friend’s silliness as you two stood next to each other nearby the flashy wooden Minka of the Master in the shining sunlight
Obanai felt his gut churn in fuming jealousy at the sight before him. You and Tengen match each other very well, you’re both playful loveable doofuses and it made Obanai feel inferior
He wasn’t your nor any woman’s ideal man; he wasn’t tall nor handsome nor so muscular, he didn’t laugh at your jokes or enjoy comedy, he didn’t laugh at all. Wouldn’t you prefer somebody like Tengen? Did he have to become like you to have a chance?
“I bet you 20 yen that you can’t make Iguro laugh” Tengen chirped in suddenly, plucking out a single paper Yen from the hidden pockets on his uniform pants and waved it in front of your face. You grinned, leaping up in a small hop in your step
“I accept! If I win, I get that 20! If I lose, you get 40!” You remark cheerfully, ignoring Tengen’s shifting expression and hopping off without another word. You didn’t hear Tengen’s open disagreement over you giving him double of what he originally bet, you didn’t care! You were a gifter anyway
You smile and arrived in front of the all-too- familiar tree of the Master’s huge backyard, where you found a single wild Iguro Obanai occupying it. In the moment, he was reading a parchment of paper. You pouted out in curiosity moments after as you approached the dark bulky trunk, touching the scratchy skin and internally calculated how you’d scale it
In a second or so, you managed to bounce up the large thick plant and to the stocky tree branch where the monochrome striped haori Hashira laid flat on his back, the snowy snake wrapped around his collarbone you knew as Kaburamaru coiled upwards from his laid-down position on the man’s shoulder and noticed your F/C zori
You fell to your knees and smiled cheerfully at the snake. “Heya!” You howl happily, waving at the serpent. His silted rose red eyes widened in shock
The sound of your voice made Obanai lunge upright defensively and nearly fling the paper away. He turned in the direction of the words with clenched fists but the slight panic and intent annoyance on his figure faded in no time. Thank the gods, it was only you
He would have been beyond furious if he was anybody else bothering him during the opportunity he is using to relax
You slammed your palms down onto the thick branch in front of you with that signature humorous grin of yours. Obanai jolted back in a mixture of defensiveness and confusion. “What did the grape say when it got crushed? Nothing, it just let out a little wine!”
You changed your goofy grin to a cheeky smirk, sitting down properly with a pleased sigh but your confidence almost drooped when you noticed that Obanai kept a frown
You lightly stuttered as you cracked another joke with that unchanging whimsy smile. “I know the boy who uses Thunder Breathing. My, isn’t his skills so shocking!”
You smirk delighted, keeping your eyes closed briefly but when they draw open, your heart nearly stopped. Obanai was still frowning, not a single ounce of his face had shifted
You were running out of time! You almost felt like panicking as your brain fumbled over to come up with another more funny joke. “A crazy wife says to her husband that moose are falling from the sky. The husband says; it’s reindeer!”
You openly giggle under your breath for a bit, just hoping he’d laugh alongside with you. Obanai looked at you unbothered, his tough glare basically said ‘can you shut up?’
“O-oh… sorry, then” You softly apologise to him, despite the fact he hadn’t spoke a word, looking away and cupping your cheeks with your palms in defeat with your body arched as you learn forward. You sat in front of him, your white-to-icy blue fade snowflake-patterned thigh-highs hugged your legs and made the blushed plush skin warm
How convenient that those socks you wore so proudly are from the same man you were trying so desperately to make laugh; Obanai himself
The uncomfortable silence was killing you and it went on for seconds too long. Well, until Obanai begun speaking, alerting your attention onto him. What was he gonna say now? You were quite curious as you kept your eyes firmly on him
“Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?” Obanai asks in a melodic tone, you crane your head and body back up with a confused expression
Moon? A restaurant? Is this a new place his best friend Mitsuri mentioned or something. You felt a bit out of the loop, why didn’t you hear about this sooner? You spoke in a confused stutter. “N-no? Wha—“
“I heard the food was good but it had no atmosphere” Obanai gazed at you, his mismatched eyes soft and sparkling with what you felt as love bleeding out. You bit your bottom lip, trying your best to stifle your laughter but it failed
In a matter of seconds, you were laughing and laughing so much, Obanai’s heart almost leaped to space at the scene in front of him. You look so simply cute in your little giggle fit
Choking on sizzling out giggles through your words. “W-w-where d-did you— g-get that one?” You bursted in a voice heavier than what you planned, your lungs burning and screaming out for air as you were laughing too much to breathe deeper than quick sharp breathes
“I made it up” Obanai responded in a kinda blank style. Kaburamaru coiled to face Obanai with a tilt of his smaller head. He seemed as confused as you were. You could have sworn he got closer to you
“You made it up?! That was amazing! As a jokester myself, that was so funny! I loved it!” You practically sung fearless praises as Obanai kept looking at you, his brain internally skipping over convulsions and screaming back at him how you enjoyed his efforts
“How many jokes you do make behind our backs? Tell me all of them! Please!” You chirp cheerfully, bouncing in place with excitement and wonder glazing over those pretty eyes Obanai felt his face burst into flames just looking at you
Obanai sighed softly, attempting but failing to ease his nerves. He briefly kept his heterochromatic eyes closed to recollect his composure but he opened with newfound confidence and looked back into your eyes
“They say nothing lasts forever, so would you be my nothing?” Obanai remarked still as calm, your heart dropped and your cheeks burned in one smooth motion. A pickup line, not just any pickup line, a really really cute pickup line. W-wait! Was he trying to hit on you?
You thought intently and quickly, hoping you didn’t look uncomfortable or freaked out in the moments as Obanai watched you in suspense and you decided on the whim. Why not, let’s go for it. It wasn’t like you didn’t like Obanai
You quickly propped back onto your feet whilst crouched and waddled over to sit right next to him, not speaking anymore and your smile smaller than the usual big goofy grin you’re known for. Falling back onto your sitting posture, you were mere inches away from him
“Did… you hate that… or something?” Obanai asked visibly uneasy and with nervous eyes, clearly a bit confused by your actions all at the same time. You have singlehandedly made Obanai the most confused he has ever been in his entire life in this mere hour
You kept up your quiet facade as you leant to press a kiss on his cheek and drape your hand atop his. Leaning back elegantly, you noticed how Obanai’s face exploded into a bright rosy red and his beloved snake Kaburamaru basically danced in a wiggle on the air to meet his eyes
You let out a more playful toothy grin this time as Obanai struggles to keep his eyes on you any longer, the two-tones of yellow and turquoise shooting everywhere else around him. He was so timid and it made you simply livid!
How could a man so cute be even cuter? You always asked but now, you know exactly how
“I’d love to be your nothing~”
Sorry if it’s bad
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happilyghostlyarie · 5 months
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(This is joke but also not really)
So many romance story male leads are so freaking autistic.
Ah yes, I don't do facial expressions, I like the fact no one can look me in the eye, I have schedule I never ever break from till the fl comes into the story, I have only a few people I talk to, I only allow a few people touch me, I can't really be myself around strangers, I sometimes twirl a pen- menacingly, I prefer my time alone, my special interest is matters of the state or my business or my trauma, I have a safe food and it's either food my mother made me or something my childhood friend who's also the fl showed me when we were younger, I basically wear the same damn clothes every day or at least the same colour, jokes go over my head sometimes, people always misunderstand me, etc.
Tell me I'm lying.
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Foxglove
(Written by me. Originally published by Literary Times Magazine.)
I didn’t mean to summon the ghost.  Okay, I meant to, but I regretted it.
My friend Cyprus knew it was a bad idea from the start.  “You talk this way about every girl for two weeks, then you move on to someone else.  Just put a curtain over the portrait and forget about it.”
“I can’t.  Thinking about her hurts, and just the prospect of not thinking about her hurts more.  I dream about her pretty much every night.”
Cyprus closed his eyes.  His gold-rimmed glasses made him look like he was from another century.
I leaned across the table, making my eyes big.  “You can do it, right?”
“I’ve only recreated the ritual in a classroom setting, and only for animal spirits.”
“You’re a straight-A student.”
“That doesn’t mean I can do it.”
But he could.  
Ever since I moved here, the portrait of the actress had smirked down at me like a vixen.  She’d died young, in the early 1920s – this house is split into condos now, but it used to all be hers.
After my last breakup, I looked up photos of her.  She was most active during the 1910s, when stage actresses had a kind of dreamlike beauty: long tresses of dark hair, and huge, dewy, downturned eyes in the middle of a misty face.
I put the laptop down and went to bed thinking about her.  I dreamed about her pressed against me, warm and alive.  Since then, I couldn’t stop.
Cyprus showed up with a briefcase and his cat.
“Before I start, you should know I’m not doing this for you.”  He put his cat carrier in the center of the room.  He drew the sigils around it in chalk.  He set up the candles.  “I’m doing this because my professor said I could use it as an extra credit assignment.”
“It won’t hurt your cat, right?”
“I would never endanger General Pawshington.”
He had me sit cross-legged on the floor, then drew sigils around me too.  
Then he opened his briefcase and took out a yellowed sheet of paper.  “I can only say the words and perform the gestures,” he said.  “Your yearning has to be strong enough to call her here.  And then if she doesn’t want to stay, she can leave.”
“Got it.”
He started to chant, making swift finger motions, and I snickered.  
He paused.  “You have to think about her, or it won’t work.”
“Sorry.”
This time when he started to chant, I kept my eyes fixed on her portrait.  Even when she began to materialize over the cat carrier – out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the shape of a tiny hurricane, twisting into the shape of a woman.  I felt like if I looked at her, she’d vanish.
I imagined a relationship with a ghost.  A ghost would never change – if they wanted change, they wouldn’t be here.  They usually stayed tethered to one place.  I imagined coming home to her day after day, her tether to the outside world.
“No,” she screamed.  “No!”
I looked over at her.  She was as beautiful as her pictures, her black dress fading into gray mist at the skirt.  But she didn’t look sad or bemused, like she did in her photos.  She looked furious, the whites showing around her pupils, her dainty mouth twisted in rage.
She looked between me and Cyprus.  “Why would you do this?”
“I love you,” I blurted, at the exact same time Cyprus said, “Extra credit.”
She screamed so loud the cat hissed and the windows seemed to shake.
“Um,” I said, looking to Cyprus for guidance.
He didn’t look back.  Just stared up at her with fascination and regret.
She dematerialized, dissipating into mist that seemed to scatter against the ceiling, maybe through it.
“Was that…supposed to happen?” I asked.
“Some ghosts react badly to being summoned.  But if she’s unhappy here, she can return to the afterlife.”
She did not, for whatever reason, return to the afterlife.
It turned out that being haunted was not a fun experience.  I thought if I could just tell her about myself, she’d like me as much as I thought I’d like her, but she wasn’t interested in that.
She slammed doors.  Chilled rooms.  Flung objects.  Sobbed in the night.
“Can you please just talk to me?” I pleaded, after being woken up at 3 AM for the third time that week.  “I’m sorry!  I just wanted to meet you, that’s all!”
You know how when you’re in bed, you sometimes look up at the ceiling fan and picture it falling?  Well, that’s what happened next.  Fortunately, no bones were broken.
Cyprus’s extra credit assignment became his thesis project.  He came back as my neighbor was complaining to me about the new “poltergeist problem,” unaware I was responsible for it.
“And who are you?” the neighbor asked Cyprus.  “An exorcist?”
“Close.  I’m a student from the Providence College of Necromancy.”
“Great.  A student.  They always send kids to solve adult problems these days.”
Inside, Cyprus called, “Foxglove!”  For some reason, I don’t think I ever thought to address the actress by name.  “Foxglove, you have to stop, or they’re going to send an exorcist to get rid of you.”
She materialized out of the air like mist – the first time I’d seen her since we’d initially summoned her.  She really was so beautiful, her dark hair floating around her like a dream.  “It’s not fair,” she said.  “It’s my house.”
“I know,” he said, sadly.  Well, sadly for him.  He had a catlike way of emoting.
“I remember Heaven in flashes.  I don’t think you’re supposed to remember it while you’re on Earth,” she said, sounding frustrated but relieved at having someone to talk to.  “I want to go back so badly, but I don’t want to leave my life again.  All I can do is yearn for what I had before.”
“Maybe you can tell me about your life,” said Cyprus, not disguising the interest in his voice.  “I could write it down, and publish it.  And people could read about you.”
Her eyes looked sad, dewy, and hopeful, like they did in the portrait.  “I’d like that.”
I felt sidelined, like a third wheel.  It bothered me that she forgave his selfishness just because he was open about it – I wanted someone I could love, he wanted an extra credit assignment.
My goal was selfish too, in the context that I’d pulled her away from her life – or afterlife – in the hopes that she’d be a part of mine.  But wanting something to love wasn’t supposed to be selfish.  And if it was, that was supposed to be forgivable, if only because it was so human.
I’d apologized.  He hadn’t.  He was open about his self-interest, his fascination with the predicament he’d created.  But I could tell that if she forgave one of us, it would be him.  If she fell in love with one of us, it would be him.
That night, he stayed over to listen to her talk about her childhood, her poverty, her discovery.  About dancing and singing and playing Lady Macbeth, before performances were immortalized on film, when acting was still ephemeral.  About the day after she did too much laudanum and drifted under the surface of the tub.
She wanted to pull herself back past the surface, but she couldn’t.  She just couldn’t will her limbs to move.  “They say that those who take their own lives can’t get to Heaven,” she mused.  “I did.  But maybe that’s because I really wanted to live.”
Cyprus was listening, his recorder on the table next to him, taking notes.  He was interested in every word, wanting to capture as much as possible.  His intense curiosity, the Victor Frankenstein in him, was what made him a great student.
“I have some more questions I want to ask, about certain aspects of your life,” he said, switching off his recorder.  “Can I come back Thursday night?”
“I’ll be here,” she said.  Her dress had turned from black to white, and the mist she emanated had paled.
I could have tried talking to her.  
Instead, I called my ex, and told her what happened.
“It’s just like with me, James,” she sighed.  “You wanted her till she was a real person.”
It was true.  I’d never met a girl I could love more than an idea.
“It’s lonely for me too,” I said.
“I know.”
“Why do you think it’s so hard to love someone right?”
“Because when you do, it becomes something you want to give to them, not something you want to take.”  She said it like she’d been thinking about it for a long time, waiting for someone to ask.  “I think that’s why we spend most of our lives learning how to do it.”
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eruden-writes · 1 year
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Scent Match - Part 2
(Note: Started with an anon asking for the phrase prompt, "Oh. Oh.")
Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan hearthrob, Augustine Prime.
But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.
However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.
All because of her scent.
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Previous | Masterlist
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Hours later, Amber found herself sitting on a bench in the corridor that led to the VIP section. It had to be a large meeting hall, she decided, after a bit of watching. Con staff flew in and out of the door, some bringing in food and drink while others checked papers on clipboards while appearing stressed. Thanks to room dividers expertly placed just inside the doorway, no wayward fans could even glimpse the bigshots inside.
Anxiety clawed up her back as she stared down at the sketchbook laying atop her thick thighs. For now, it was closed, but she could feel the damned drawing burning a hole in her sense of propriety. She really should just forget about this. Augustine paid upfront and likely wouldn’t even remember her or her silly little art. 
“So are we going in?” Next to Amber, Addie piped up. She twirled her bright pink curls - a voluminous wig - around her index finger while noisily snapping her gum. Beside her friend, Amber felt a little dull in her jeans and tee-shirt and hoodie. Addie had brought her A+ cosplay game with the low-cut and high-hemline intricate dress of a popular character from a dating sim.
Closing her eyes, Amber took a steadying breath. Her friend refused to be left at the booth while she made this particular delivery. Which meant Amber had to wait near Artist Alley closing to give Augustine his… commission. Though she couldn't blame Maddie for her disbelief. Amber barely believed her story herself. “Give me a minute.” 
“This isn’t helping your credibility, Amby," Addie giggled, a wry grin curled at her lips. 
When Amber's eyes opened she shot Addie a frown. This had been a repeated topic of conversation since Maddie heard what happened. “How else do you think our cashbox was so much heavier?” 
“Good question." Addie leaned back, making a show of considering Amber's words with a chin-stroking hand and over-the-top hum. With a snap of her fingers, she grinned at Amber and wiggled her eyebrows as she guessed, “Maybe you did do a commission for someone while I was gone, but not for Augustine Prime. Did you take my advice and start taking NSFW comms?” 
“No, I haven’t.” Not that Amber hadn't considered that potentiality, but it wasn't exactly something she wanted to discuss in the middle of a busy hall.
That was the kick in the pants she needed to get moving. Pushing herself to her feet, Amber strode to the attendant near the door, Maddie trotting behind her.
The con staff by the door was a burly gargoyle, expression seemingly in a perpetual state of 'extremely not impressed.' They watched silently as Amber approached, only inclining their head as they asked, “Name and reason for entry?” 
“A-Amber Dyer. I have a commission for Augustine Prime.” Trying not to feel like she was raising a shield, Amber held up her sketchbook. She immediately regretted that, as well. It was like a prop for a weak lie.
The attendant raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?” 
Amber pressed her lips tightly together, before raising her chin. “Yes.” 
Evidently put out, the gargoyle sighed and held out their hand. “We will make sure he receives it.” 
“Fine,” she said after a beat of thought. They likely had to deal with all sorts of fans with harebrained schemes to get in and see their favorite stars. There was no point pressing the issue. If they throw her drawing away, she had already gotten paid, as well.
Having already paper clipped the drawing to a receipt and one of her business cards, Amber held the small stack to the attendant. “Can you please give him the art and his receipt?” 
With a heavy sigh and a roll of their eyes, the attendant glanced down at both the drawing and the paper. Their expression pinched at the sight of the less-than-flattering caricature of Mr. Prime’s infamous character, their gaze flickis back up to Amber as if to gauge if this was a joke. She steadily met their eye, somber expression relaying that no, it wasn't a joke. 
With a shake of their head, the attendant disappeared into the VIP Lounge without another word to Amber. 
— 
Inside the VIP Area, it was like an indoor caravan camping out under fluorescent lights. On the outer edges, cabana-like tents lined the walls. Each housed whoever had been wrangled into coming to the convention. TV show and movie casts, TouYuber celebrities, influencers from an array of social media, voice actors - who most often dipped from one cabana to another - and some notable pillars of various nerd communities.
In the middle of the large room, catering had been set up. Cellophane-wrapped sandwiches, rows of soft drinks and water, decadent cupcakes or other treats, plus a few tables from popular eateries. Screens in the corners of the room blared the schedule, which had mostly completed by this point of the day.
In the OWaB camp, Augustine currently sat in a chair, one leg thrown over an arm as his back leaned against the opposite side. “Do we have any media obligations tomorrow?” 
“Our big one was done today. Showrunners and writers have a few panels or workshops tomorrow, I think,” answered Delilah, the actor that played the battle-hardened lycan protagonist of the show, stretched across a loveseat. Her sharp blue eyes angled to Augustine, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Don’t you have that charity auction?” 
“Fuck, you're right. Winner gets to have dinner with me.” Augustine groaned, head flopping back against the chair’s arm. In a fit of theatrics, he threw his arm over his eyes for good measure.
“Why so bummed about it? Usually you enjoy being fought over.” From their own spot on the floor near an outlet, Camry shot Augustine a curious look. In their hands they held their tablet, currently plugged in.
“If that artist came by, I was hoping to ask them to dinner.” He sighed, slumping further in his chair as he slid his arm off his face. 
Thinking of their face, eyes wide with shock and a pinch of a blush on their cheeks made something in his chest twist. The memory of their scent - indescribable and warm, twanging at something in his chest - coupled with the awry curiosity of how they’d feel under his palm. Though they had been sitting and somewhat obscured by a hoodie, he was aware enough they were curvy and round, certainly soft and warm. His fingers flexed, his imagination feeding him phantom sensations. “Guess I could ask them out tonight.”
Just as he finished, Theo entered with a tray piled high with catered food in hand. The human actor gave a knowing snort as they inclined their head to Augustine. “Talking about the smelly artist?” 
“They’re not smelly. They’re fragrant. And you wouldn’t even be able to scent them.” Playfully, Augustine tossed a pillow at Theo. It had been a careless and sloppy throw, since the other man merely turned aside to block it from hitting his face.
“I’m pretty sure they’re not coming, Auggie.” Delilah hummed as her castmate shot her a dirty look. She gave a defensive shrug, her voice softening an iota, “From the way you tell it, I think they were off-put by you.”
“Easy $200 for them, that’s for sure,” Theo laughed as he settled down in an empty chair, placing his goodies on a nearby end table. 
Augustine grumbled to himself, eyes glued back to his phone. He really should have dallied longer at the table and paid more attention. There was probably plenty there with their name or even online handles. He'd been flustered after finally locating the scent that had been plaguing him since arriving at the convention. He didn't know what he expected when he finally found it. Realizing it belonged to someone versus something just hadn't occurred to him.
“Mr. Prime, an artist dropped this off. Claimed it was for you.” 
Those words made his head snap up so fast, his eyes apparently intense as the staff member nearly stumbled backward at his expression. Before Augustine could jump up and snatch the paper from the employee, one of his co-stars beat him to it. 
“Oooh, I see what you mean," chuckled Theo, holding the paper at arm’s length while fending off Augustine with his other hand. “They definitely have a talent for catching your essence.” 
“Lemme see!" Camry jumped up from the floor, making grabby hands at the innocuous piece of paper. Theo dropped it to them and they snatched it up like a monkey stealing fruit. As soon as they glimpsed it, a cackle escaped their lips.
A flare of heat licked up Augustine’s body, his wolf ears pinned back against his head and bristling tingles spread down his back as he lurched for Camry. “Oi, I should be the first one to look at it!” 
Alas, he was too late as Delilah plucked the drawing from her shorter co-star. Sticking her tongue out at Augustine, she grinned and held it away from him, “Shouldn’t have been so slow about it.” 
Glaring up at Delilah - usually his height, but currently given a slight advantage with her heeled boots - Augustine had to swallow down a frustrated growl. She smiled viciously down at him, blue eyes almost glowing with a challenge. The chemistry between Montos and Laira, in-show, was aided by the natural playfulness between the actors that often transmuted into challenges. Not to mention the fan-made enemies-to-lovers content that plagued the fandom sphere.
His gaze shifted from Delilah’s gaze to the paper, quietly agonized by the slight crumpledness after exchanging so many hands in such a careless manner. Not to mention the artist’s own scent being lost, obscured by his crewmates’ hands. 
His pride was no match for the desire clawing at his thoughts. Ears and tail drooping, Augustine’s lips pursed as he held out his hand to his colleague. “Please, I don’t want it to rip.” 
One of Delilah’s eyebrows jumped up, her ears flicking forward in quiet interest at his reaction. Her grin grew, flashing sharp teeth as she held the paper out to him. “Fine, fine. Put that diabolical pout away.” 
Augustine had to temper his eagerness as he took the piece of art from her. Looking at it, it was much like how he remembered, except a little more refined. Overall, it was a wonderful caricature of Montos in his second season grimy glory, dirty and in tattered slack with a furred cloak. Mid-shifted his wolf ears peeked out from the mass of chaotic hair that haloed his head.
A beard stretched around his large sharp-toothed - if goofy - smile as he reached out to the viewer. Near his head, a line of fan favorite dialogue and oft-used nickname for Laira hovered: “I’ll give you a bone, Little Bitch.”
Indeed, in his slacks just before the image cut off, there was a hint of an excited bulge. Or maybe it was just a bump to let viewers infer Montos’s - ahem - size. Regardless, there was the implication of stuffing having been utilized, considering the edge of a coin sack stuck out from his trouser’s waistband. 
His eyes continued to scan the drawing until he found what he had unconsciously been looking for. A scribble of a signature adorned an empty space near the bottom of it. Narrowing his eyes, Augustine realized it was too difficult to decipher. Damn.
“Bummer that they didn’t come in though, right?” At his elbow, Camry piped up, peering at the drawing once more with an amused smile.
“Yeah,” Augustine glanced up at the staff member who still lingered close, perhaps surprised by the delight over the unflattering and crude drawing, “Why didn’t you escort them to me?” 
“They, uh, they weren’t on the list,” the gargoyle stammered, lifting their clipboard as if to provide evidence. 
“Shit.” Augustine stared at the signature on the drawing, but no amount of squinting could decipher the squiggle. His head snapped up, gaze landing on the gargoyle once more. “Were they out in the hall when you came in?” 
Relief fluttered through the attendant’s voice as they answered, “Yes, I can-” 
They didn’t have a chance to finish as Augustine tore off for the exit. 
— 
Amber and Addie stood by the door for a few minutes, waiting for the staff member to return and formally dismiss them. At the very least, if Augustine did not accept the drawing, Amber wouldn’t have minded having it back.
Eventually, Amber sighed with a shrug, condemning herself to the thought of the drawing being pitched into a trashcan. “Guess that’s it.” 
“I suppose so.” Disappointment made Addie’s demeanor slump a little. Trying to rally some humor, she shot Amber a teasing smile. “Still doesn’t prove he actually paid for it.” 
“I know,” Amber groaned, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled and started down the hall. It didn’t really matter if Addie was believed or not. She herself knew the truth. Of course, that didn’t keep her friend from ribbing her, all the same. 
There were a few moments of quiet as the two strolled further down the hall. Since they had packed up the booth early and now Artist Alley would be closing in fifteen minutes, there was no point in heading back. 
“So, what should we do for foo-” A sudden commotion from behind interrupted Addie’s words. Alarmed, both women turned to spot whatever chaos was happening behind them. 
A searing tingle shot down Amber’s body, watching as Augustine - with full almost-a-beard stubble already -  approached while waving her drawing over his head. 
Relief fluttered through Augustine the second he spotted them. They'd gotten aways down the hall, but not so far that Augustine couldn't shout at them. “Mx. Artist, your handwriting is terrible. I cannot make out your name!” 
Movement at his feet caught her eye and she was startled to find him partially tangled in a curtain. She quickly recognized it was one of the room dividers. Her eyes flicked back to the door to the VIP section and, sure enough, staff were desperately trying to gather up the fallen pieces of the divider’s frame. One even tailed after Mr. Prime, weakly calling after him.
Had he seriously barreled through privacy screens just to catch her?
She watched as he kicked off the curtain - to which the con staff member gratefully collected the fabric - and trotted the rest of the way to her. Dazedly, Amber mumbled, “My business card is attached to the receipt.” 
Augustine blinked, glanced down at the paper in his hand, then flipped it over. Indeed, stapled to the back was her business card. For overlooking that, he'd blame his co-stars and their teasing. He plucked it from the paper, careful to not completely ruin either receipt or card, before peering at it. 
AMBER DYER She/Her/They/Them Artist - Writer Creator of Hell’s Promise
As he scrutinized her business card, Amber dutifully ignored Addie’s bugged eyes and barely contained excitement. It was harder to ignore the buzz around her or now the other woman grabbed onto Amber’s arm. It didn’t help that a flush threatened to burn over Amber’s cheeks every time her friend’s big eyes jumped from herself to the actor. 
Something in Amber's chest jolted as Augustine looked back at her, that damn charming smile on his lips. “Ms. Dyer, please come back. My co-stars want to meet you.” 
“Why?” Taken aback, Amber wasn't even able to censure herself. 
Her seeming surprise at simple actions tickled at Augustine’s senses. It was charming, he thought. In response to her, his smile tilted crookedly and he brought his hand to his chin. “They said you captured my essence perfectly.”
“You showed other people?” Amber blanched as her checks heated up. The drawing hadn’t even been her best work. Hells, it had been subpar and kind of mean, if she was being honest! Did his reportedly tight-knit castmates want to rake her across the coals for it?
She was certain he was just low-key harassing her by asking for the drawing. Other than it being some weird powerplay, what explanation was there?
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” A breathy chuckle escaped him as he shot Amber a curious look. Was it so hard to believe he’d want to let others see it? “That’s the point of art, right? To show people.” 
Oh, this way something her brain could understand. Amber latched onto his flippant words, eager to gain some footing of understanding in a world that made nose sense. “I mean, there’s other reasons. Why we make art is a philosophical-” 
“Ugh, don’t start in on that boring stuff!” Addie finally butted in, shaking Amber's arm dramatically. She flashed a delighted smile in the actor's direction as Amber was startled into silence. “We’d love to come meet your co-stars!” 
Still smiling, but blinking blankly, Augustine registered the other person's presence for the first time. They were shorter than the artist and seemed to be wearing a cosplay he couldn't place. Generically attractive, with a round face and full lips upturned with vague amusement at the corners. Pleasant to look at, but something in the air around them put him on edge. 
Tilting his head to her, his own lips mirrored her faint grin. “We?” 
“I’m Addie Kline, she/her! Amber’s friend, roomie, and the one who talked her into even coming to the con." Addie's chest puffed out as she stepped forward, hand jutted out in a demanding request for a handshake. A sly expression crossed her features as she eyed Augustine. "If it wasn't for me, Amber wouldn't even have attended!"
“Ah, well, the more the merrier.” Augustine's expression brightened, now silently thankful to this previously ignored attendee. He took her hand, giving it an enthusiastic shake. “Are you a fan of the show?” 
“Big OWaB fan since day one! I can’t forgive the writers for leaving us on such a heinous cliffhanger last season.” Addie released Amber’s arm, stepping closer to Augustine. Her voice dropped low, into faux inconspicuous territory, as she asked, “Between you and me, care to share what might be in store, Mr. Montos?” 
He made a show of glancing around and Amber had to bite back a smile as overt eagerness radiated from Addie. When the man stooped closer to the other woman, Amber involuntarily held her breath.
“There are too many prying ears here,” he growled, using his character’s lilt. The corners of his lips twitched a little as his attention flicked to Amber, watching her expression carefully. 
“If you two wish to accompany me…” He let the pause languish as he curled a lip in a mean smile, running his tongue over his sharp teeth before finishing with a bit of gravel, “Perhaps I can be persuaded to talk.”
He couldn’t actually reveal anything, but talking around the questions was something he had learned for media interviews. 
Amber bit her tongue to keep from reacting to his eyes gliding over to her. The way his tone shifted, becoming more like Montos, sent shivering sensations over her body. Judging from the way his smile twitched, she thought he knew she was reacting like that. Which only convinced her to batten down against the sensation more. 
It didn’t help that others were stopping and staring, snapping photos with their phone and whispering. That realization sent another sizzle of heat through her.
He offered a hand to the bubbly woman, who delightedly took it, before offering his other to Amber. At the very edges of his awareness, her scent taunted him. Despite the relatively scant distance, the urge to bury himself against her throat burned at his thoughts.
She stared at his appendage like it was a venomous snake. A quick glance to Addie, noting her smug look and slight nod as she leaned into the man’s side, finally convinced her to give in.
With a sigh, Amber Dyer took Augustine Prime's hand, happy to be led somewhere less public.
Hopefully, she could get her head on straight by the time they made it to meet his co-stars.
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navnae · 1 year
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Idk why I’m tempted to writes the cheesiest steddie ficlet that gives off the worst indie movie vibe in history and making them say the corniest metaphors. Just imagine Steve and Eddie hanging out one night and it’s the typical friends having feelings for each other but too afraid to say anything. Eddie talks about how he runs away from any kind of affection because he’s scared that he’ll get hurt in the end and Steve chimed in with “well, it’s probably easier said than done but I’m sure that you’ll find someone who will cherish you and appreciate you.” He says softly. Both of them laugh about it then Steve mumbles “I wouldn’t hurt you.” Making Eddie snap his head towards him with confusion and Steve tries to play it off but Eddie knows what he heard. This is so random I just needed to say something a bout it, Steve and Eddie deserve a cheesy story honestly.
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bullet-prooflove · 1 month
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❤️ Sunglasses - A Romance Story - Free On Amazon For Only One Week! ❤️ I’m pleased to announce my short story ‘Sunglasses’ is now available on Amazon. ‘Sunglasses’ is the story of Nina and Manuel and how the misappropriation of a pair of sunglasses turned into a romance. For one week only it will be available for you to read for free. Check it out here: UK: https://amzn.to/3vLNVY7 US: https://amzn.to/3vKHtRi
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doublel27 · 6 days
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You ever start writing a meta in your head on the way home from work and then wonder if it’s worth it to type the pages that it’s gonna take to analyze the thai ql “curse of episode 11” and how it fits in the general structure of romance and why it can be incredibly satisfying but sometimes very much isn’t, based on an analysis of romantic story beats and how the third act has to have a final conflict of some sort?
IDK if anyone wants it, but I was thinking of it based on a comment I saw for 23.5 (have not watched the episode) and does GMMTV know that queers have other conflicts other than break ups -> ql that don’t feature a break up (but interestingly usually a separation of some kind) -> the way 3rd acts of romance stories play out
Anyway, let me know if you are at all interested. I may write it up anyway just for me.
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flower1622 · 15 days
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I may look like this:
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But I tend to write and read stories with this vibe:
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lorelangdon · 15 days
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pain proves existence
“You,” he said. I turned back to find him standing up. He was quiet, mouth searching for the right words. “You’re not even out the door and I miss you.”
I smiled sadly. “I’ve missed you for a very long time.” 
He inhaled at that, and my gaze drifted to what he was holding. A half used syringe, with god knows what in it. 
The silence said everything we weren’t strong enough to. 
I can’t be apart of you killing yourself. 
You can’t acknowledge your addiction.
I think of him often and fondly, and sometimes the weight of my concern fractures my heart just a little more. An ever-present creaking in my chest. My heartache may be the last thing, the last evidence, of him existing in this world.
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bradandhazel · 3 months
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Brad and Hazel: The Comic
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Brad is not happy when Hazel gets a higher mark than him in school. In fact, everything she does seems to annoy him. But as they discover more about each other, what seems like an impossible relationship turns into something worth believing in.
Brad and Hazel (by studiiberry) can be read on Instagram, Webtoon Canvas, and (soon) Tumblr!
Instagram: @studiiberry
Webtoon: Brad and Hazel
Tumblr: Brad and Hazel: The Comic #brad and hazel story
First Part | Latest Part
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colourstreakgryffin · 4 months
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Nakime with demon! reader with fire abilities that activate when they are mad, excited or nervous etc etc? basically Ruby from Steven universe and twice as adorable.
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<3333
Oooh… okaaaayy. I never watched Steven Universe but Ruby’s character seems very complex yet cute so I definitely will try this out! Thank you, loves!
Nakime- Hot Red Strings
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Nakime is a composed, quiet and stable woman. She never lets her emotions get the better of her, she is almost a hollow mysterious soul; stoic, dull and straightforward. She doesn’t often connect with others and ignores others but when it comes to you, the new Upper Moon. She can’t help but feel interested in you
Nakime finds you fascinating. You have incredible flame-based abilities tied to your emotions; when you’re angry, excited or nervous, you erupt into giant balls of hot red flames. She doesn’t really jump seeing it but from behind her long bangs, she is watching you
Nakime is your basically opposite in every fashion, personality wise. You’re emotional and you have the habit of letting out outbursts whilst she is content and almost never acts on any type of emotions. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel anything for you, she can just keep herself under control. You… not that much
Nakime likes to listen to you as you struggle to talk or have a explosion. She can handle the way you stomp around and leave burn footstep marks on the floor whilst burning up in beautiful hot flames. To her, you look absolutely beautiful, she loves hearing that you have emotions… it’s like hearing the Biwa strings strung
Nakime uses you as an inspiration piece for her Biwa playing. She sits in silence on her own and thinks about the way you act. The way you make little shapeable flames for her to internally admire and it gives her the confidence to play her beloved Biwa again
Nakime may or may not summon you to the Infinity Castle solely to see you but she always catch you when you’re having a rampage and setting something on fire. She finds it funny how often you do react in this way and end up blowing up everything around you. It’s adorable
Nakime is quite flattered to the fact you’re protective and caring over her to the point you don’t like leaving her side. When your own crush on her blooms, you’re suave romantic, soft with words, and quite flirtatious. She really likes it, she’s often in the background so having this cute passionate fire volcano-like Upper Moon admiring her is making her feel so heard
Nakime is the serene one, the one balancing out your impulses and it draws you two together. She likes that she is so opposing and she can control you. It’s almost like you were made to be hers… that’s how she feels but she always disguises it behind her long bangs and soft voice
Nakime takes quite a while to show off her single eye to you, she doesn’t want you to find it hideous and when you express that you like it, she feels a lot more comfortable on keeping her full face open whilst around you
For real. We’re Ruby and Nakime’s our Sapphire
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ronweasleysleftnut · 2 years
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angst prompt 9 with jonathan pls 🥺
Prompt:
I need to be with someone who actually wants me. And I know that's not you.
Jonathan byers x female!reader.
Jonathan likes someone else, and y/n can tell.
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Liar Liar
It was 3am in the middle of winter. Y/n had her window open, looking out at the now falling snow. She hadn't been able to sleep, so instead she sat up in bed and read. When she saw the snow fall however, she wanted to watch.
Her elebows rested on the windowsill as she looked out past her neighborhood. It was cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground, and so in no time outside stayed to turn white. She had been up restless that night due to Jonathan. They had been together for 2 years now, since their Freshman year, but lately he's been acting different.
He's been distant, and he's been hanging around Nancy Wheeler, a lot. Y/n didn't think anything of it at first, Jonathan was allowed to have his own friends, but as time went on, she started to worry he liked her more than just friends.
She hadn't confronted him about this, she was too scared. She didn't want to be wrong, and end up jeopardizing their relationship even more, but at the same time this feeling gnawed at the pit of her stomach.
She took a deep breath before shutting the window in front of her and turning to her bed where she climbed back in and tucked the covers around herself. She closed her eyes, willing her body to finally fall asleep, to turn off these thoughts that went in an endless circle and just sleep. And eventually, it did.
She woke up the next morning at 6am to her mother calling from downstairs. She got up groggily from bed and slipped on some warm clothes for the now 2 inches worth of snow that accumulated while she slept.
School wasn't called off, it almost never is. And so when she went downstairs her mother had breakfast made, and after she finished, she heard Jonathan's car horn signaling his arrival outside.
He drove her to school every morning, despite anything else that may have been happening between them that always stayed consistent. "Morning", he says quietly, and Y/n can tell he's been experiencing his own insomnia. "Good morning" she says with a small smile and leans over to kiss him. He turns his head however, and she kisses his cheek instead.
"Let's go" he says with an awkwardly and Y/n nods, buckling her seat belt before Jonathan drives down the road slowly.
She sits through school as usual, her and Jonathan only had their last class of the day together, social studies. Despite that however, she can't help but have thoughts of him all day. She tries to confide in her best friend Robin during lunch, but it doesn't go to plan. "I don't know how mens minds work!" Robin said, her shoulders scrunching up as they do when she talks about this type of stuff. "I like women, I don't bother understanding the opposite gender" and with that, Y/n was left hopeless.
And to top it all off, when she went to history, Jonathan was no where to be seen.
After school she went out to the parking lot to Jonathan's car, ready to confront him about his absence, but when she got there she saw that Jonathan wasn't alone.
Nancy was standing with Jonathan by the back of his car, and before they could see her, Y/n went to the car over and listened in on their conversation. "Thank you for today, Jonathan" she hears Nancy say, and she can see the reflection of her smile in the glass. "It was no problem, really" he replied flustered, that smile Y/n loved so much flashing across his face. "So... I'll see you tomorrow?" She asks, and the boy nods.
Just as Y/n thinks she's about to leave however, Nancy goes on her tip toes and plants a kiss on Jonathan's cheek, causing his face to burn a shade of bright red.
Y/n feels tears come to her eyes, but she holds them back. As soon as Nancy is gone, she walks over to where Jonathan stands. He's still so awed by the kiss that he didn't even realize she came from the wrong direction. "Y/n" he said, smiling down at her, although she knew it wasn't a smile for her, it was from Nancy.
"Hey" she replied quietly, and Jonathan took her hands in his own. "Wanna come back to mine tonight?" He asked, and she looked up at him. Maybe she was wrong, maybe Jonathan did still love her? "I'd love to" she says with a smile, and Jonathan bends down and kisses her lightly on the lips before moving to the passenger door and opening it for her.
She gets in and watches as he goes around to the front of the car where he enters the driver's side. He starts the car and turns on the radio, tapping along to the beat on his steering wheel as they exit the parking lot.
Y/n still has hope as they pull into his driveway, however her dreams are crushed soon after.
They get into the house normally, Jonathan taking her coat at the door and telling her to sit while he gets them food. She takes her normal seat on his couch and turns on the TV, waiting for the boy to come back.
When he does, he's holding 2 sodas and a bag of chips. When he sits down, he places the bag of chips between them.
They switch through the channels until they land on some random game show, and Jonathan sits back ready to watch. Y/n however, turns to face him "So, what did you do today? You weren't in History..." she finally brings it up, and he looks over "Oh, uh.. I had other stuff to do" but Y/n isn't going to let go of it that easily.
"Oh" she says, "Like what?" And Jonathan takes a moment before turning his head towards her again, clearing his throat before speaking "Uh... I went out with Nance" he says. Nance. Y/n bites her lip to prevent the tears from forming in her eyes "Oh, so you and Nancy are good friends? Thats nice" She asks as casually as she can, but it seemed as though those were the magic words to make Jonathan open up.
Apparently he took it as an opening, that y/n was okay with it, because he opens up like a book and starts talking about Nancy like it's a middle school crush. "Yeah I mean she's just... she's really cool. And she knows what she wants, and she's determined and so thoughtful of the people around her, and when she's concentrating she does this cute thing where she bites her thumb" he imitates the motion and laughs, however when he looks over at Y/n, tears are openly coming down her face now.
"Y/n" he starts, moving immediately to comfort her. "Are you okay?" But she pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself. "You like her, don't you" she says, and Jonathan hesitates for a moment before responding "what, I no" he says, trying to touch her again but she pulls away and gets off the couch.
"Jonathan I saw you two together earlier!" She says, and his mouth drops "I saw her kiss you, and I saw the way you looked at her and I know that look Jonthan that's how you used to look at me" the tears are coming more than ever now, and Jonathan recollects himself, however he doesn't move to comfort her this time.
"Y/n, this is crazy" he says, motioning towards her "You're not denying it though, Jonathan! Because you know it's true" she responds, wiping the tears from her eyes as she recollects herself. "I love you" she says sincerely, walking towards him and looking him in the eye "But I need to be with someone who actually wants me. And I know that's not you."
Jonathan is left speechless as she moves away from him and towards the door, but at this he finally gets up to follow "Y/n, this is insane just come back we can talk about this" he tries but she shakes her head, pulling on her coat "There's nothing to talk about" she says with a sad smile, "I hope you're happy with her, Jon" and she exits the house, making new steps in the snow as she goes.
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Lingering hearts, clover and sage - a fantasy romance
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Do you like romance? Are you a fan of slow-burn and the conflict between love and duty? Do you enjoy magic, fantasy cultures and just the barest hints of an incoming apocalypse? Then this story might be for you!
To research the effects of catastrophic magical events on the environment, the elf Naeth gets permission from his isolationist government to cross the border into demonic lands and spend six months in a dilapidated scientific outpost. There he meets the demon Umaen, who gifts him with a beehive, a fluffy red chicken, and an unexpected friendship.
Torn apart by the elves’ strict no-contact laws, they must find a way to cope with the increasingly worrying results of Naeth’s research, while navigating an impossible romance and the clash between their two opposing cultures. Can their relationship survive the distance?
Rating: Explicit (because of a couple of scenes) | Estimated length: 100k words | Available from the second half of February
So what if I surrendered to my impulses and wrote out the entirety of Umaen and Naeth’s love story? My plan is to edit it out nicely, add in some illustrations by yours truly and make it downloadable from Kofi (priced between 2.50$-3$). This is an official INTEREST CHECK! I’m putting a lot of love in this story, and it’s toeing the line between sweet and bittersweet, with lots of feels and a little bit of politics. I hope you’ll stay tuned for new updates!
To curse an angel taglist under the cut:
@ardawyn @pheita @toboldlywrite @shewhowalksbehindthewheels @raevenlywrites @search-me-in-wonderland @concerningwolves @dreamywritingdragon @coutelier @rosesonneptune @lady-redshield-writes @chishiio @hysteriwah @artbyeloquent @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @wizardfromthesea @s-opal @thesunempire @ladywithalamp @jaimistoryteller
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Redesigned my character Detrua. Honestly her design original design was just "me" lol. And I feel making her biracial doesn't take away from her already existing backstory or personality.
I might change the little bow in her hair. I do want her to have some green hair accessory, like her original design had.
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