Seriously why is the concept of treating people like fucking people so hard to grasp??? I'd just gonna go wipe my faith in humanity on one of these idiots back.
ask-factory-scootaloo: $5 head-shot sketches. $10 for full body sketches. $3 for color. 5-8 preorders are permitted for the stream but orders will be taken during the stream as well.
howlingvoice: Accepting requests on what to draw for the stream
wispywinterwind: Donate $5 for a flat color of either a Bust (Pony or Anthro version) or chibi of the character of your choice (OC’s welcome) Early donators are welcome as well!
nasty-arts: Donation Reward Option for the $10 goal Being either a Bust or an Avatar.
I love Flannel and Petal! They're both awesome, I feel for them both. Flannel wants things to be new and exciting while Petal wants everything to be as great and perfect as that one time. She needs to learn to make new happy memories, try new things, do the undone. And Flannel needs to tell her what sort of things they should try. Maybe then their relationship will be a it better =P
Yeeee more people who don’t see this relationship as hopeless!
Fandom: Suikoden IV
Characters: Elenor & Cray
Rating: PG
Howl asked for a romantic fic between Elenor Silverberg & Graham Cray.
Usual 15 minute fic warning applies--no promises on quality.
Elenor has always been particular about her wine.
The one she pours for herself tonight is a rare vintage, with many songs and stories laced within each sip. It is a bottle from years ago, one that she had once shared with someone else. Someone that she once cared for when her eyes were brighter and her hair untouched by gray.
The night she first opened this particular vintage, it was just to celebrate her student's success. A raised glass, a tiny clink, and then a sip through a sincere smile. Words were spoken over the wine. Words that fermented into more than pleasantries between a young teacher and her student.
The aroma is strong, fruity, with a must of oak behind it. The smell conjures memories of the second time she uncorked this magnificent vintage. She relishes it for a moment; the earthen scent the same as it was back then, beckoning her to blur the lines of decorum and to give in to her desires.
She moves her lips to the mouth of the glass, but then draws back, giving the wine a moment to breathe. Just as he had given her all those years ago. A smell, a touch, a tease... It was nervousness hidden in a shroud of playful, for both of them. When she finally does taste the wine, it is soft, like that tender yet eager first kiss.
The rest of the bottle goes quickly; glass after glass, memory after memory, touch after touch. The finish of each taste giving her mischievous bites just as he used to do, because they both liked things exciting, rough, and intoxicating.
Elenor rolls the cork in her calloused palm, remembering just how soft his weathered hands felt on her arms, her back, her legs. But when she commanded it, those same hands could be strong and challenge her. As she downs the last drop, she feels the heat of the alcohol cause her cheeks to warm and turn red, burning with that flushed glow coupled with heavy, contented breaths.
Without regret, she silently motions for Agnes to bring her another bottle.