#slowly learning to draw something similar to their actual faces

[ebthestarryknight]

I am back on my TOS bullshit

#slowly learning to draw something similar to their actual faces #still a long way to go tho #(mostly because i suck at translating real life faces into my style) #star trek tos #this was meant to be a facial features study and then it just #it's all Jim #it's all Spock #it's all tos #star trek #spock #spirk #jim kirk #captain kirk #s'chn t'gai spock #traditional art #pen drawing #pencil drawing #traditional drawing #traditional sketch #doodle

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀ��ᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ

Now that you've sort of finally accept your new circumstances, you take the opportunity of being a baby to stare because you know no one's gonna call you a creep for it (this time).

Penelope is 'Mother', you eventually decide.

You take a lot after her, you realize whenever she decides to hold you up to a mirror one day to show you the newest onesie (cow-themed, this time) she's bought for you. You share her skin tone and eye color, and you're fairly sure you see tufts of [H/c] hair growing in.

Those similarities, however, are the only ones you share with her, for she still looks different from you in plenty of other ways.

Penelope Ophelia is tall—almost reaching up to six feet, you're pretty sure—and thin, her body shape a perfect hour glass. Her hair is straight, but cascades into curls where it ends just beneath her butt, and her eyes are fox-like and almost luminescent when the moon or sun hits them just right. Honestly, had it not been for the fact that she was your Mother, you would have been terrified of her as a stranger.

But it is because of the fact that she is your Mother, though, that you know her appearance is exactly just that: an appearance, and nothing more. Despite the sharpness of her eyes and how cool her skin feels against your own, there is a softness to Penelope that pulls you in and makes you unafraid to curl your small hands into the fabric of her clothes and nuzzle your face into the spot that sits between her neck and her shoulder. She coos everytime you do and always makes sure to nuzzle you back, and it fills your insides with warmth.

She likes to bake in her free time, and is pretty damn good at it if the mouth watering smell of bread or whatever other pastry Penelope decides to bless the Ophelia household with is anything to go by. You unfortunately can't really eat a lot of her pastries due to being a baby that's yet to grow their teeth in, but you've learned long ago that patience is, in fact, a virtue, and you will happily reap your reward once the time finally comes.

(For now, though, you can only suffer in silence as you watch Willow scarf down the best looking cheesecake you've ever seen while Penelope airplanes baby food into your mouth.)

The woman you get your horns and slowly growing goat ears and tail from is Willow Ophelia, now also dubbed 'Mum'.

She's about a head shorter than Mother, but for what she lacks in height, she makes up for in muscle. Due to her apparent appreciation for crop tops, you've already seen just how toned her stomach is, and her arms—while not too big—clearly have a lot of power, though you're sure that's what tending to a farm filled with crops and animals does to you.

Mum's skin is dark and littered with lighter patches (vitiligo, you think?), and her eyes are round and colored forest green. What mainly draws you into her, however, has to be the fluffy cloud of platinum blonde hair that sits atop her head, with goat ears colored the same coming out from the sides and thick, birch-like horns protruding from the top and curling backwards in a way that kind of reminded you of that one old goat from Hoodwinked.

When you see Mother and Mum together, it is then that you finally start to believe the old saying, "Opposites attract."

While Penelope looks and feels cold on the outside despite the pure warmth she freely gives to those she loves and cares for, Willow's appearance is all it takes to hide the fact that—even with the chill, almost goofy demeanor she likes to wear around other people—she is a force to be reckoned with the moment you earn her ire.

Firm, stubborn, and determined, Willow loves fiercely and therefore protects her family with the rage of a soldier. You know that she genuinely does actually like working on the farm, but you also know it serves as something to keep her in shape and ready for a fight, too.

Like with Penelope, however, you can't find yourself feeling any sort of fear for her, and perhaps that is because, as her child—the culmination of hers and Penelope's love—you have only ever known Willow's strength in the form of her strong arms holding you like they're meant to shield you from the dangers of the world and willing to do anything to keep you from harm, no matter the cost. Willow's rage is only for those who deserve it, and already, somehow, you know that—in her eyes, at least—you never will.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In the night, Mother reads fairy tales to you from an old book she tells you was gifted to her from her grandfather before his passing.

With a rocking chair next to your crib and you safely secured in her lap, positioned so that you could lay against her stomach, Penelope makes sure to hold the book on her lap in a way that allows you to see the pictures that color the pages not littered with words. Her voice is regal, but also possesses an almost rumbly quality to it that makes her chest vibrate enough to where you can feel it, and that alone is nearly enough to send your eye lids fluttering shut.

Mother likes happy endings. She tells you herself after she finishes reading Cinderella to you, one night (a night that you're very proud of because you didn't immediately fall asleep like you usually do when she reads to you), and tucks you into bed.

"The world is nothing like the ones I read to you, little love," she says, the soft smile that had been gracing her delicate features at the time growing at the sight of your small yawn. "I still like to believe that there is a happy ending for everyone, though, and I hope that someday, you will find yours."

She had ended the brief moment off with a kiss to your forehead, and then left you to dream of the daring princes, kind princesses, and fearsome beasts from the stories she had weaved into your mind with her romantic tales.

Mum's stories come in the day. They aren't as frequent as Mother's, but that only makes them all the more special.

When it's time for those moments, no matter how long or short they may turn out to be, Mum likes to take you away from the house and sit near the lake, where you can watch all the little frogs and dragon flies go about their business amongst the lily pads beneath the blue, cloudy sky.

It is in those moments, then, where it is only the two of you, Mum speaks of no fairy tales or happy endings. Instead, she tells you of divine beings greater than you could ever know; beings who envy the very mortals they look down upon because they can feel things they will never be able to fully replicate, and monsters born from people forced into a world and punished for mistakes not even their own. She whispers about the wilds; about how different this world used to be before humanity's advancements. She doesn't blame all of them for their ambition, for wanting to create an easier world for the generations to come, but you don't miss the sad, almost mournful look that flickers through her shiny eyes, looking as if she'd been pulled back into memories from long before.

And when that happens, all you can do is lean back into her and hope that your presence is enough to bring her home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This was it. You were finally gonna do it.

You were going to walk today, and no one could stop you.

(A fact that you were very right about, as the only two people who could stop you wouldn't even want to, as any parent's child's first steps is a sacred memory.)

Furrowing your brows in concentration, you shakily lift a hand and place it against the counter next to you for support as you slowly push yourself up onto your feet, a determined frown painting your lips.

Okay. You inhale deeply and try to straighten your back out. Okay, I'm standing up. It's going well so far. Now ...

Narrowing your [E/c] eyes, you begin to look around the room, pondering: Where should I walk to?

As if on cue, Mother steps into the room, and she gasps—loudly.

"Willow!" She turns to yell up the stairs. "Willow get the camera and come quick!"

You hear something clatter from above, but you pay it no mind and instead focus on the the long, white sundress your Mother had decided to wear today.

Bingo.

Taking another deep breath to hype yourself up, you slowly, but surely, take a small step. The action, of course, has your Mother returning her gaze to you faster than anyone can blink, and she gasps again.

"WILLOW! HURRY, LOVE!!"

"I'M HURRYING, I'M HURRYING!!"

Stumbling down the stairs, Mum slides over to Mother's side and nearly drops the camera she's holding in the process—both from the fact that her entrance had almost led to her landing flat on her face, and the shock of seeing you trying to walk.

Choosing to focus on your goal instead of the two women standing in front of you, their eyes filling with tears, you keep your eyes glued to your feet as you carefully take another step, and another one, and another one ...

"Look at you go, kid!" Willow whoops from behind the camera as she takes pictures.

Standing next to her wife, Penelope beams at you and claps her hand, practically glowing the pride. "That's it, little love! Keep going!" she cheers.

Soon enough, the counter is no longer there to support you, and you look up just in time to give your moms a gummy smile as your little legs take you stumbling forward into Mother's legs. The women cheer, and Willow takes one last picture of you hugging Penelope's legs like a koala before setting the camera aside and picking you up, grinning widely.

"That was amazing, kiddo!" She holds you between Mother and herself so they can both smother you with kisses. "Does this mean you're gonna be talking soon, too?"

You giggle, the sound high pitched and bright, and it makes your moms snuggle you even more.

The Ophelia household is warm for the rest of the day, and you can't help but hope it'll stay that way for the rest of your second life.

Tag List: @randomgurl2326

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#to defy fate #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #luke castellan x reader #thalia grace x reader #nico di angelo x reader #bianca di angelo x reader #will solace x reader #calypso x reader #jason grace x reader #piper mclean x reader #leo valdez x reader #hazel levesque x reader #frank zhang x reader #reyna ramirez arellano x reader

[brucewaynehater101]

Deep down, Tim knows that they are at fault. Deep down he knows that Jason and Damian attacking him like that *isn't ok*. But that's a truth he can't bring himself to face because even if he did, would Anyone believe him? If he told Bruce or Dick that the attacks still happened, that one of them tried to take his life at least once a month still, that neither of them would do anything. Tim doesn't know if they would defend him and punish Jason and Damian, or if they would just say, "you need to be more careful Tim, they can't always control themselves." And if the answer is anything but the first he knows his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

Instincts are there, but they are easy to over come. They very from shifter type to shifter type and usually fall into groups by Animal Type. Such as a Tiger and a Housecat will have similar instinctive problems but they won't be the same as a Wolf or Dolphin's. As a snake Tim 100% has the urge to nap in warm places and does get slower when cold. His suit has special heaters in it that the others don't have due to his inability to regulate his own heat. Damian insists that Tim being unable to function without "a bunch of hand warmers" I'd proof that he shouldn't be in the field and should be fired. Tim bites his forked tongue to stop himself from screaming that if Damian can't not give into his instincts and attack Tim anytime he sees him Shifted then he shouldn't be in the field because he's gunna attack a civilian.

Also for now Bruce has no idea how shifters work. But this is Good Dad Bruce. He's going to put in Effort. He's *going* to find the resources he needs to parent this New Tim because he doesn't think he can bring himself to send any version of any of his children to a home that could hurt or likely kill them. Until then, Bruce is going to insist on New Tim (he gets called TJ thanks to Duke. After all, they can't call him Drake, he hates Timothy, Tim would be confusing, and neither Tim likes the idea of being called "Jackson") takes one of their spare rooms and gets a full 8 hours of sleep every night/day and 3 full meals a day. TJ was Visibly Confused by this due to the fact he hasn't been staying in the manor at all for almost a year due to Damian and Jason. He only sleeps in his nest which has Beyond Batlevel Security to keep them out.

Also, I can't decide. Would a healthier version of Damian and Jason stay away like Tim wants them to or would they go "no *fuck* your bastard excuses for Brothers we will teach you what it's like to actually trust and have us have your back."

Tim not seeking an answer or help is very angsty. He chose his emotional/mental health over his physical well being. Part of it may be him knowing how to navigate the murder attempts but not knowing how bringing this up would change the status quo (in possibly worse ways).

I like what you've added about Tim's instincts. A good milestone for that batfamily is if they find Tim napping on a window seat. This would be a huge show of trust by him and an indication that he feels safe.

I think a healthier version of them would give Tim space and communicate boundaries with him, but they would also try to bond with him.

For Damian, this is a lot of parallel bonding. The kid will find wherever Tim is in the Manor and sit in the same room with him doing something different (like drawing or doing his homework). It is an effective way for Tim to get used to his presence and stop seeing him as a threat. Of course, Tim is nervous or on edge the first 10 or so times this happens. Eventually, he starts to lower his guard enough that Damian can make a comment or two. They slowly work up to full conversations and Tim seeking out Damian's presence himself.

For Jason, he'd try to read in places near Tim as well. His main strategy, though, might be favors or gifts. He'd learn what foods Tim likes, what activities Tim wants/needs to do that Bruce won't let him (like sneaking out), and generally just helping Tim out in small ways. It at first freaks Tim out, but they work up to Tim himself asking Jason for favors.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!! #dc au #damian wayne #jason todd

[allfortheslay25]

Neil Headcanons:

(I have more hc but these are just a few I’ve written down)

After Mary dies, Neil sleeps with a pillow against his back. He can’t sleep without it there

When Neil is scared, he doesn’t make a noise, just either flinches or internally breaks down because screaming from fear or nightmare or whatever draws attention while on the run

Neil can’t cook with flavor at all. He sucks at it

Neil is a really good driver in every way besides parking. He cannot park to save a life. Parking was not essential on the run when he was a getaway driver so he never learned to do it properly

Neil picks at the skin on his lips so they’re really dry and chapped and scarred

He’s a nail biter and sometimes bites his skin to the point it bleeds

He had very few freckles due to lack of sun while on the run, but he still had some speckled over his face until they were cut/burned off during Baltimore

Neil slowly pierces parts of his body over the years to reclaim his body

He also gets a few small tattoos

He never properly learns to fight. All the Foxes take turns/bet on who can teach Neil to fight. Matt teaches Neil to throw a punch and it’s the farthest anyone can get

He jump-ropes at the dorms sometimes if he’s antsy and can’t trust himself to go on a run

Neil sometimes hates showers and finds them to be a hassle. He’s not used to showering so much because he didn’t always have access to a shower while on the run

He actually looks nearly exactly like Mary and less like Nathan. Mary just projected her anger for her husband onto Neil since he’s their son and said it was because he looked like Nathan. Neil actually looks like 90% of Mary but has similar hair and eye color to Nathan

Neil likes skirts but does not prefer to wear them outside the comfort of his home. He is not used to doing things that make people stare

Neil has a habit of needing to do something with his mouth so he chews gum sometimes (Nicky buys packs of them for him after Neil’s pens exploded in his mouth for the fifth time in a single week)

Neil makes dry, out of pocket jokes about his trauma randomly throughout a day

His favorite fruit is actually bananas but his favorite berry are strawberries

Nathan is polish so Neil knew polish when he was 10 but Mary beat it out of him because she thought it made him sound like Nathan

After staying in Palmetto, Neil becomes a sleep kicker because his body and mind are slowly processing all the trauma he went through and it makes sleep just chaotic (a temporary REM sleep behavior disorder)

Neil can’t grow anything more than peach fuzz on his face because Nathan’s male family genes don’t grow facial hair

In Neil’s second year, the Foxes all share their own meal recipes so they can each teach Neil to cook something that actually tastes like food

Neil’s favorite color is gray but his favorite color (that’s not muted) is blue

The reason Neil is not good with his fists in a fight is because he’s got better control of his legs and should be fighting with those instead (Renee is the one to realize this but since none of the foxes know how to properly use their legs in a fight, Neil doesn’t learn much)

#headcanon hour #aftg #all for the game #headcanon #neil josten

[smoothielenny]

Bearly see any Norm or Max and seeing artists reader got me thinking of this

Unlike Spider in some ways Reader respect the people of the tribe and not try to be liked them but try to understand them ( like Steve Erwin on how he respects the animals and people) and they went to a solo adventure to draw more plants that haven't even documented in her art book and one day she came back kinda late and they holding something and it's few jars of bry dyes, and when asked where they got it she just said " I meet a small group of Na'vi in my adventure and they seem to liked drawing so we trade one of my art book with these "

Turns out they meet different type of Na'vi who wears a type of skull mask due to the high altitude they travel with their large flight companions ( bigger then the banshees ) that been traveling, and they seem to be very friendly as they view reader as a just a child despite being a sky demon, apparently these Na'vis are very allusive and private individuals but willing to learn of things that Pandora have to offer with a open mind

Dora, Dora, Dora, The Explorer

I couldn’t think of better title lol.

“Norm! Where is (y/n)!?” Max yelled. Max and Norm is like your parents, they deeply care for you. Max is mostly the worried one while Norm is more focused f that chill dad. Norm scratched his head responding with ‘I don’t know’ Max just sighed and face palmed himself.

“I’m sure she’s around, you know how she is, always on adventures.” Norm calmed Max, but he wasn’t having it. What if you accidentally went to the enemy’s territory? And got kidnapped by them? What if this time you got lost? These ‘what ifs’ is messing with Max mind and it’s making him crazy.

While you ‘dad’ is having a panic attack, you were walking around the jungle, actually opposite where the enemies territory are, so basically you are safe. While walking you saw through wood some Na’vi, you thought it would be some Omatikaya who is in hunting, but no, they look different. The clothing seems a bit similar, but they were wearing a mask. A mask that looks like a skeleton (luckily not a human skeleton). You walk further to them make a crisp noise from stepping at a dried leaves. They all look at you way, they took their arrow and bow and on their defensive mode. You gasped and put your hands up causing to drop your sketch book and pencil. Your breathing started to go faster. Nervousness is crawling up to you head.

“I…I’m not a threat I swear.” You said in Na’vi. They were shocked that a human knows their language though they didn’t back down yet.

“I’m a friend, not an enemy.” You said slowly. They all look at each other and finally lowered their weapons. You sigh in relief from this, but now feel intimidated, you don’t know what to do after, but you just asked, “are you part of Omatikaya?” They said no and answered with ‘We are not, We are mountain people.’ You nodded. They were about to leave, but you said something along the lines with, “Will you let me follow you? I want to know more about you.”

You are now in the air riding with one of them on a big ikran, well at least like an ikran, it is bigger that an actual ikran. They all landed on the top of a mountain. It is different from the Hellelujah mountain, it has its own type of plants and habitats. You were intrigued by it and starts drawing it. One of them got curious and gets close to know what you are doing. They saw you vastly sketch out a plant, they were impressed. You started asking them about everything you could find and taking notes of it, they happily answered you. Talking to a human who has an interest in their clan and place makes them happy. They told you about their tradition, their food, animals, and their own spirit tree.

Night has come and Max is extra stress. He still couldn’t find you and Norm is now also worried. You usually go back afternoon and now it’s night. You now probably got lost.

“Norm that’s it, I’m going out—“ his arms is grabbed by Norm, again trying to calm Max.

“Hey, hey. It’s already night, why don’t you relax and I’ll find her with my avatar bo—“ his words interrupted by a bang of a door opening. It was you.

“(y/n)! Where were you!?” Max exclaimed. You have a lot of thing to tell him.

#avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar headcanons #avatar norm #avatarmax #atwow imagines #atwow x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow fanfiction

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone! (WARNING: willing fatal vore, angst, forbidden relationships).

Just a quick thought at night...

What if in G1 there was a girl who would come along with Soundwave.

For example, she helps him from some kind of trouble when he is injured and absolutely lost with no opportunity to comm anyone of his faction - all his comrades and cassettes are far away, so this human girl appears to be the only being in the universe who is able to give him a hand - and this young sweetheart sincerely wants it. So, despite his neutral, or even bad attitude to people in general Soundwave grows truly fond of her while recovering. They spend a lot of time together: talking, walking around the town she lives in, just doing average things, slowly getting to know one another.

And sooner or later, their relationships turn into something more than just an accidental companionship...

However, everything has its end. Soundwave is rescued by other decepticons, and the girl learns what kind transformers her lover belongs to... After she sees what Soundwave's "pals" do to people and her planet, she inevitably finds that her sympathies lie with Autobots. As someone who has already lost his own home, Soundwave understands her feelings; and, actually, the girl doesn't hate him too - the choice of an allie is his personal responsibility and she can't judge the mech, moreover that she doesn't know all the motives of his past decisions. This way, the war draws its black line between the two. They are bound to fight against each other, but, although both of them feel anguish and sorrow, they don't even think to betray their sides, and so, the decepticon and the human keep suffering wordlessly in secret from others...

One day, the lovers participate in battle. One against another, face to face. And, obviously, the human perishes. Wounded and powerless, she is thrown to his feet, waiting for her death to come. The robot towers over her miserable body, huge, heavy and cold like a mountain... There is only one step - and she will become nothing but dust.

But the giant doesn't hurry. Soundwave gently, lovingly picks her up from the ground like he has always done, trying not to cause even more damage to her vulnerable body than he has already did. And the 'con... Reveals his face for the first time after the war started. With an only intension.

To swallow. Her. Whole.

The girl doesn't protest. She just shivers and sobs faintly as her beaten body is cautiously laid on the long slimy glossa and pushed at the back of her lover's mouth. She doesn't even try to struggle as she slides down his slick warm throat and esophagus, being tugged deeper and deeper into his core by powerful, yet careful gulps. She slips in the fueltank, but she doesn't bang its tender walls or beg for release, or dig her nails in the squishy, velvet metal pulsating around.

She simply cries, remembering every beautiful moment shared with the indigo mech she loves so desperately - despite the thing he has just done to her. It is his guty - and that shall be respected.

The girls is sure digestion will start soon and she curls into a tight ball, shaking in horror and focusing on the last comforting moments of her lover's flesh hugging her compassionately. Although, even this she considers as an illusion created by her upset mind to weaken the inner agony a bit; stomachs exist to break down food, and it won't take long to tear her apart and process what's left. She can't hope Soundwave will be merciful with her right now. The law is the law: decepticons don't keep prisoners alive for long.

However, time goes - and nothing happens. Well, almost nothing. There is a slight blue light on the edge of the fueltank. It grows stronger and brighter with each second, filling the place with mesmerising, mysterious glow. And finally, it turns into a human figure with a face which is confusingly similar to the faceplate of the fueltank's owner. The man gets up and approaches the girl who is still lost in her thoughts, hiding her wet face in tiny, bleeding palms. In order to that, she is quite surprised as the hologram sits down beside her, takes her head in their hands, puts it on their knees and starts affectionately stroking it, softly brushing her thick, silky hair with one hand and holding her trembling fingers in another. Soundwave looks down at her with calm, kind expression, embracing his little human girl - the one his spark has chosen to be forever loyal to.

She wipes dirt, saliva and blood from her rosy cheeks and smiles, leaning to the ghostly light touch. She knows he won't let her out - there is no reason for her to return back to Autobots: she won't be as devoted to them as she once was anyways due to her unlucky, forbidden love. And she can't become a Deception either. So, sad fate is inevitable. Meanwhile, she sees that Soundwave loves her too no matter what. That he is with her - whatever Megatron and other decepticons do or say.

The girl finally feels ticklish sensation on her feet and discovers they have already started melting away. There is no burning or aching though; she recognises only relief and peace spreading around her exhausted, sore limbs and torso. Poor girl completely gives in to the natural process of Soundwave's body, no complaints or regrets inside her tired brain. She will be consumed by his systems till the very last drop. Her cells will collide with his cells, her love - with his love; she will go through all of him, swimming freely in his veins and accurately collecting every small detail about her darling - just for herself. She will disappear as an independent person, but remain alive in the layers of "breathing" metal he is made of.

He won't ever forget her.

Nothing will be able to divide them ever again.

#transformers vore #transvoremers #soft vore #willing pred #willing prey #fatal vore #painless digestion #digestion mention #willing fatal vore #angst #hurt/comfort #g/t vore #g1 vore #Soundwave vore

[befemininenow]

Top posts of the year

Hello fellow followers! As the end of the year is slowly approaching, I want to give a thanks to all your support! We may not all share the same interests, but we all share a similar interest of wishing to connect more with our feminine sides. I want to share my last Throwback Thursday by looking back at something more special outside of my own past: my most popular captions by my followers! It will also be my pinned post until New Year’s Day arrives! Here are the top 5 most liked and shared captions (created by me) from this blog:

5th most popular is this one of Sunny Leone in sexy lingerie. This one was created out of impulse and I was caught by surprise that it caught on more than I would have thought. Then again, someone hot like her would provoke you into cracking your egg if she actually said that.

4th place is this art of someone dressing as a woman. This was my very first caption and decided to use this well known drawing used in captions for several years. From what I was able to find later, it was a commission drawn by a known TG transformation artist. However, this person in the drawing is transgender and she (not “he”) is happy to see herself looking back. The euphoria in her face may explain why she hasn’t worn the wig yet. Crossdressing may help some trans individuals with dysphoria and can even serve as a catalyst in transitioning if they feel the need to feminize (or masculinize if trans male) beyond dressing. I may look into recreating this caption in the future as I related more to this pic after discovering the origin.

3rd place is this caption of some girl in cleavage. I’m just going to leave it at that. I wrote as a way to show how “boymoding” can only work until your feminizing results make it difficult to hide. Boymoding, from what I was able to understand, is when transitioning girls under HRT dress as male, but everyone around them notices they’re turning into a girl. In other words, the people around them see them as a crossdresser instead of a guy now. Yet, boymoders deny their feminizing changes. Once it becomes too obvious, like bigger breasts or softer skin, their only option left is to come out as a trans girl.

2nd is this very hot GIF, and it’s easy to see why it’s so hypnotic. The crop top and leggings hugging her own curves, the way she moves, her long, flowing hair, and her overall looks are persuasive enough to either chase her, become her, or both! The clip was originally from a Vine (remember those?) that was difficult to edit, recrop, and make into what you’re seeing right now. I don’t make GIFs anymore, but maybe I’ll make another one like this one day.

And in 1st place is this one of a woman holding a set of pills. Although they’re actually birth control pills, this pic was used in long-gone caption affirming the user to take hormones. Many trans people are placed in a waiting list to be prescribed gender-affirming hormones, and that’s after an extensive time being in therapy sessions. These waitlists take months, or even years, before being cleared out. Oh, and these trans people are all adults! So it’s no surprise as to see why many would love to get their hands on HRT if handed to them instantly. If you’re in that process, please reach resources such as Planned Parenthood, Plume, or other sources available in your country or region that will help you guide your transition into a girl.

-Conclusion

These top posts say something more than wishing to connect with our feminine sides. Based on this list, it seems many wish to also become a girl for other reasons. I can’t judge what you like as I am responsible for creating these captions. But as someone who is learning more about their trans identity, my captions are slowly drifting away from fantasy and diving more into reality. I will slip in something provocative as a way to tease you. But it most likely won’t fall under the “forced fem” topic, but rather as a way to “crack” your egg. There will be more surprises showing up come next year, or up until this blog lasts. Until then, happy night people!

[raisareigns]

TIMING: End of December SETTING: Leaving the Frost Bites Festival! SUMMARY: Emilio (@mortemoppetere) and Raisa thought the excitement was over leaving the festival. The snowpire who found them would beg to differ. WARNINGS: None

Raisa had heard some stories around town of things not being quite right lately, but this was Wicked’s Rest. Things were never quite right. She’d chalked them up to typical levels of magic and superstition. Perhaps some fae illusions even. Regardless, Raisa had assumed it would be safe to go for a walk. The evening air was crisp but not as close as she could remember some years being. She just needed a chance to clear her head and enjoy the snow.

Unfortunately as Raisa stepped back and nearly slammed straight into a stranger’s chest. She couldn’t be bothered to apologize, though, not when her eyes stayed fixed on the snowy figure prowling alongside the path ahead. 

“That’s not a normal snowman,” Raisa nearly whispered as she tried to keep from drawing its attention.

This town. This fucking town. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Emilio was learning that Wicked’s Rest rarely allowed the chaos to calm, even temporarily. There was always something. There were gems that turned people into strange, rock-like monsters. There was goo that swallowed apartment buildings and made statues of anyone who touched it. And there were fucking lumps of snow that moved all on their own.

Unsurprisingly, Emilio wasn’t entirely familiar with the concept of snowmen to begin with. The area where he’d grown up had had very little snow, and it wasn’t as if he’d grown up watching movies that explained the tradition. To someone who had no context for it, it was an impossibly strange sight. He stared, so enthralled by it that he didn’t notice the woman in front of him reacting until she’d slammed into his chest.

“How… do you know it is a man?” He asked, keeping his voice low to mimic hers.

Raisa’s face jerked away from the creature to take in the stranger, not bothering to hide the incredulousness that crossed her features. Quickly she let her eyes dart back to the snowy figure shifting slowly closer to the path. “What? That’s not… You call them snowmen. It’s probably not always the most correct, but are we really going to argue that right now?”

The figure’s head swiveled in their direction. Raisa sucked in her breath and took a step, then another. She didn’t hide behind the other person exactly, but Raisa didn’t want to be a shield herself if things went pear-shaped. Judging from the thing’s steady gaze, they would. And how could it gaze at them anyway? It was snow. It was just snow. The magic in this town was a lovely thing, but sometimes Raisa couldn’t stand it.

“What do we do?” Raisa asked. She didn’t want to draw more attention, but without a different distraction, she didn’t see how it mattered.

“No I don’t. I don’t call them anything.” Emilio wasn’t really sure what to do with the conversation, or the situation as a whole. There was a pile of snow with some kind of makeshift face on it stalking towards him. He was barely even familiar with snow alone. This was an entirely new thing to him. Even in all his training as a slayer, no one had ever warned him about… sentient snow? Was that what this was? Christ, he missed Mexico.

The thing seemed to be moving towards them, and the stranger who’d pointed it out was stepping behind him in a way that wasn’t quite the same as shoving Emilio forward, but felt kind of similar all the same. He wasn’t offended by it. As a hunter, after all, it was sort of his job to handle things like this. Even if he had no idea what a ‘thing like this’ actually was. 

Hesitating, he reached into his jacket pocket. His hand returned with a knife; one of many that he carried on his person. He squared his shoulders, glared at the snow. “I am going to get its head off,” he announced. “That usually kills things.”

As the stranger seemed to pause for a moment, Raisa tensed. Would he run? Leave her to fend for herself? Did he have some kind of connection to the creature? That seemed insane, but this was Wicked’s Rest. Insane things happened as innately here as walking a dog or mowing the lawn did in a suburb. 

Thankfully he pulled a knife from his pocket, and she forced herself to relax a little. He seemed to be in agreement that the creature was their priority. Though… part of her couldn’t help glancing at the metal of the knife. Surely it wasn’t iron, right? She couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Will it kill things made of snow?” Raisa asked. That seemed a bit different than killing something with blood and flesh. Perhaps heat would be helpful here, but since she didn’t exactly carry a hairdryer in her purse, Raisa didn’t have any thoughts for that one. Perhaps she shouldn’t have quit smoking in the 90s. At least then she’d have a lighter on her person. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never killed anything made of snow.” Removing the head was the sure-fire way to kill most things, he’d been taught; when you weren’t sure what something was, when you didn’t know how to take it down, your best bets were decapitation or immolation. Which… Huh. Emilio paused, looking over the snow creature thoughtfully. 

Reaching the hand not holding the knife into his pocket, he retrieved a lighter. “Maybe this works better,” he offered. He tossed it to the stranger, then pulled a second from his pocket. Another thing he carried plenty of, half to light his cigarettes and half for situations like this one. He only wished he could carry a flamethrower inconspicuously. “You want to help?”

Raisa tensed as he reached into another pocket, but she immediately snatched the lighter from the air as he tossed it to her. “Not the biggest flamethrower, but it should hopefully do the trick,” she murmured. It would hopefully keep the thing away at least. After a second to think about it, she took her eyes off the snow creature long enough to fully take in her new companion. “I’m Raisa, by the way. Seems like knowledge we should each have before we do this.”

The thing moved forward with a few heavy steps, and Raisa held up the lighter on instinct. “Don’t come this way,” she muttered, glaring at it. “We don’t have anything you want.”

The thing opened its mouth, and somehow a sharp set of teeth glinted in the low light.

Raisa swallowed hard. “Or maybe we do. Think it’s hungry? Think it wants us?”

“Sorry I don’t carry a full-sized flamethrower in my pocket,” Emilio replied dryly. In all honesty, if they made a flamethrower small enough, he would have gladly carried it with him everywhere he went. Few things could be more useful than that, couldn’t they? Most things could be killed with fire. Snow, especially so. “Emilio,” he replied flatly. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but nothing about this feels very nice, I think.”

The snow creature took another step, and then another. It didn’t seem to care much about Raisa’s warning, moving forward as if no words had been spoken at all. Then, it opened its mouth, and —

Fangs. Familiar fangs. Sharp, vampiric. What the hell? 

Theory building in his mind, Emilio reached up to the cross hanging around his neck and held it forward, taking a step towards the mound of snow. It let out a strange hiss and stepped backwards. “What the fuck,” Emilio murmured, brow furrowing. 

Raisa rolled her eyes. She hadn’t been trying to critique his lack of preparedness, but honestly in a place like Wicked’s Rest, such things could be considered standard preparation. If anything, not having a lighter or knife on her right now was a flaw of Raisa’s. She should have known better than to go to a public event without anything useful. 

“No,” Raisa agreed. “It’s not particularly nice.”

Emilio even had a cross? Raisa took back even her joking comment. He’d clearly come prepared for much more than she had and lived every day a little more prepared in a place like this.

“Not just teeth then,” she observed. Raisa swallowed hard. “Well, hopefully that’s a sign decapitation will be an option.” She looked around, eyes scanning wildly. When it seemed like the only option, she snatched a stick up off the ground. “It’s not a stake, not really, but maybe it’ll work in a pinch.”

At least they were in agreement there… though Emilio suspected it would be hard not to be. If she’d said she were enjoying herself with the killer pile of snow and all, he might have just left her there. (He wouldn’t have. His goddamn sense of duty was always going to win out above his irritation.)

Said irritation was high now, rivaled only by his confusion. What the hell was this thing? It acted like a vampire, backing down from the cross and all, but it was definitely made of fucking snow. He wasn’t imagining that — Raisa had commented on it, too. So it was real and it was snow and it was a vampire.

Fuck this town.

Emilio glanced back to Raisa, quirking a brow at the stick in her hand. Shifting his grip so that he held knife, lighter, and cross all in one hand, he reached the other into his jacket and pulled out a stake, offering it to her. “This will work better,” he said flatly. “Not sure it will work, though. I think — I think fire. I think that’s the best way. Works on vampires. Works on snow.”

Raisa could have kissed him just then, stranger or not, as he handed her a proper stake. Some kind of hunter maybe? That was the only thing that made sense to have this many things on hand. Perhaps she’d have to be wary of him in the future, but for right now, they were on the same side. She just needed to make sure he didn’t figure out anything to the contrary. Besides, Raisa liked humans; she couldn’t survive without them.

Dropping the stick and taking the stake from his hand, Raisa nodded her head to him. “Regular old Boyscout, aren’t you?” She held the fire up a little higher than the stake. His logic was sound. “I’ll distract it. You burn?”

Clearing her throat, Raisa spoke up and directed it at the snow vampire. “Surely you can find a better meal somewhere else. Somewhere without fire.”

It opened its mouth again and made a noise not unlike a hiss, but it also reminded Raisa of a spray of water hitting cold snow. Interesting that. She took a few steps away from Emilio–not far enough to put herself on her own but far enough that the creature would have to make a choice if it lunged.

She seemed grateful for the stake, and that was a good thing. He was working under the assumption that she was human — he usually did, if he couldn’t sense anything to the contrary — but if she weren’t, there was always a chance that the arsenal of weaponry stored in his jacket pockets would give him away as a hunter. This could be a dangerous thing, he knew; there were plenty of supernatural people who’d jump at the chance to take out a hunter, regardless of what code they followed or what they were hunting. 

Better still, this stranger seemed okay with the idea of helping him instead of allowing him to serve as a distraction to aid her escape. Emilio wouldn’t have minded if she’d opted to use him to get away; after all, hunters were designed to be cannon fodder, to fall on the sword so that other people could get away. Emilio probably could have handled the snowy vampire on his own… but it was kind of nice to have a helping hand all the same.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “sounds good.” He stood off to the side as she spoke to the thing, observing the creature. It seemed to look between the two of them, and he wondered if it was capable of any kind of logic or if it was a tossup. Regardless, it seemed to settle on Raisa as the tastier target after a moment, and it leaped towards her. Emilio used the distraction to get behind the thing, lighter at the ready as he moved forward.

The creature had moved slowly so far, but as it leapt toward her, Raisa really hoped that she hadn’t misjudged Emilio and his intentions in this fight. She dodged to the side, swinging out with the stake but unsurprised when her arm met nothing but air. The goal hadn’t been a hit, though. The goal had been to stall, and that’s what Raisa was doing.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a popsicle or something?” she asked to taunt it. “Our blood hardly seems like it would be good for a snowy diet.” Raisa made a face as she wondered what exactly would happen inside that thing if it bit into one of them. Where would it go? Would the blood seep out through the snow? Would chunks of their flesh sit inside it like little frozen chunks floating in an icy river? Disgusting. 

As the thing shuffled forward, Raisa tried not to look over its shoulder at Emilio. Trust. She was trying to trust him.

He traded his knife for his flask. This wasn’t what he usually used it for, of course. He much preferred to drink the cheap whiskey sloshing around inside the container, but it tasted enough like lighter fluid that he knew it would probably burn like it, too. He unscrewed the top, the smell of it hitting the air all at once. Emilio had no reaction, of course; he was pretty accustomed to the stench of cheap whiskey. It hung off just about every item of clothing he owned. 

Moving towards the mound of snow, he sloshed the liquid onto it as Raisa provided her distraction. He wasn’t sure how much the creature felt; it didn’t turn towards him, but that may have been because it was so determined to get to Raisa. Flicking the lighter on, he held the flame against the snow and lit it up. With the alcoholic accelerant, it burned hot. The creature let out a high screech, already drooping as it turned towards Emilio and lashed out with a twiggy arm. The slayer darted backwards, moving a little too quickly for his bad leg in a way that resulted in more of a stumble than a graceful jump. He scowled. 

“The stake!” He called to Raisa. “Stick it in the back with the stake. Avoid the fire. We see if this works at all, yes?”

Raisa took another step back, flinching herself as Emilio flung something toward the creature. Liquid? Alcohol? She tried not to look at him, but she thought from her periphery vision that he held up a flask of some sort. Typical, she thought. If he was a hunter, this was one more sign. They all seemed to have their vices in plentiful supply. 

As the creature screamed, Raisa stumbled away from it, ready to let the fire run its core and take the thing down. When Emilio yelled for her to stake it, momentarily she froze. Get near it while it was on fire? Risk that kind of exposure herself? But she forced herself to ignore that impulse. He’d started this. Now Raisa needed to finish it.

The thing had started shifting, from melting but not fast enough to actually cause destruction. “Here goes,” Raisa muttered, more to steal up her courage than anything else. She lunged, stake held up at the ready. 

As the stake plunged into the center of its icy back, the snow creature screamed. Raisa had already jumped back again, which was good since it immediately tried to swing back around on her. It didn’t make it. The creature fell to the ground in a heap as the snow melted, suddenly much faster than before. 

Raisa took a deep breath as she stared down at the remains. “Now that it’s over,” she said with a wild hope that it was in fact over, “what the fuck was that?”

Asking her to stake the creature was… half ‘quicker solution,’ half curiosity. The fire would melt it eventually, but there was always a chance it put itself out, or set something else on fire in the meantime. If there was a faster way around things, Emilio figured the smart road was to take it. And part of him really did want to know if staking this would have the same effect as staking a normal vampire. It would be handy for future endeavors, wouldn’t it? If he ever came across something like this again, he wanted to know how to take care of it quickly, and with less fumbling. 

Raisa, stake in hand, seemed willing enough to indulge him. She was hesitant at first — fine, fair, it was on fire — but she recovered quickly enough, lunging forward with that stake in hand. Emilio watched it sink into the snowy surface of the creature’s back, took a step forward just in case it didn’t do anything and the snow made a move towards Raisa. 

But it wasn’t necessary. The creature, with a scream that sounded almost human, fell in a heap. Snow became water instead of dust, and Emilio tilted his head a little as the sound abruptly cut off into heavy silence. He stared at it for a moment, brow furrowed, until Raisa spoke.

Looking back to her, he shrugged. “Vampire, I guess,” he replied. “But not normal. Wasn’t undead.” He would have felt it otherwise, but he wouldn’t add that. If she didn’t already know he was a slayer, he wouldn’t hand her the information on a silver platter. “But… don’t know if it was alive, either? Never seen anything like it. You?”

Raisa just stared at him for a moment. “You guess?” she repeated. She could have told him it wasn’t normal, regardless of what it was. Only after did she realize she should have probably sounded more confused by the idea of a vampire. Then again, even humans surely had to acknowledge what was right in front of them some of the time. They couldn’t always be in denial, could they?

Still, she snorted as he said it wasn’t undead but might not have been alive. “Seemed plenty alive to me,” Raisa quipped. “Certainly moved like it was.” Whether that was because of an active life or some form of magic seemed less certain, but probably best not to acknowledge how much consideration she had along those lines. The more unknowing she seemed, the better off she would probably be.

Raisa stared down at the puddle of water in front of them. Tentatively she reached out with her foot and nudged the water with the toe of her boot. Maybe she was asking for possession. Thankfully nothing happened. “Me? I’ve never seen anything like this.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m sure some people would be naive enough to say they’d seen it all now, but… not in this town.”

After a moment, Raisa realized she should give him his things back and held them out. “Thanks for all this. I don’t know how I would have handled that if you hadn’t come by.”

“Well, I don’t think I can say for sure.” There were a lot of different things it could have been; in Wicked’s Rest, there were more options than there might have been elsewhere. This town attracted strange; that was why Emilio had come here to begin with. Maybe that was why Raisa wasn’t particularly surprised by the existence of vampires. If she’d lived in Wicked’s Rest a while, Emilio doubted this was the first supernatural thing she’d seen here.

Raising a brow, he looked down at the puddle that had been chasing them moments before. “Living things have hearts that beat,” he pointed out. “Blood, bones, organs. Moving does not make something alive.” Not by his definition, at least. Vampires weren’t alive; neither were zombies, neither were mares, or ghouls or spawn. And even beyond the undead, inanimate things could become animate, but that didn’t make them alive. “Maybe there was a ghost.” He’d never heard of one possessing a mound of snow, but… Stranger things had happened.

He watched as she poked at what remained of the snow with her foot, tensing a little as if expecting it to rise back up and attack. But it didn’t. Whatever it was seemed to be well and truly gone now. “I don’t think anyone will ever see it all.” There’d been a time when he’d thought he had, but… She was right. Not in this town.

Taking his things as she held them out, Emilio shrugged. “Wasn’t very fast. Probably could have just run from it.”

“I suppose,” Raisa agreed. Far too many beings existed in that weird in-between, and she wasn’t particularly a fan of it. “Didn’t seem like a ghost unless it was one that had a particularly strong sense of hunger? Can vampires have ghosts?” She knew there were some that didn’t quite keep their humanity. The idea of a vampire ghost was an odd one, and the pure hunger of it didn’t track with the kind of being that had enough humanity left to become a ghost. 

“They never will,” she echoed. Raisa glanced up at him, shoving her hands back in her pockets as she looked across the road at the emptiness around them. “We could have, but I do have to admit that leaving such problems for someone else isn’t usually the best option.” She did appreciate when it was an option, but Raisa also knew she couldn’t avoid every problem in life.

She took a deep breath and nodded more to herself than him. “Well,” Raisa said, “I guess that’s handled.” Raisa looked up at Emilio. “Weirdest evening ever, but nice to meet you, I think.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “Ghosts aren’t my thing.” Maybe he’d ask one of the Ballards about it, find some answers. It would be helpful to know more on the off chance that something like this happened again, after all. Emilio preferred being overprepared to underprepared. If nothing else, he could give Lil and Jonas a word of warning. If this was something that might happen again, the two of them deserved to be in the know about it.

He agreed with Raisa, though; he wasn’t one to leave dangerous problems for other people to clean up. Nonthreatening problems, sure — he often left the aftermath of his cases at Axis for the police to worry about, and he’d called the morgue more than once to let Kavanagh deal with corpses he’d found in investigations that weren’t related to the case — but things like this? Things that could hurt people? “I’m not much of a runner, either.” Though he wouldn’t have faulted her if she’d taken off.

Quietly, he huffed a laugh. “Had weirder,” he admitted. “Nice to meet you, too, though.”

Raisa shifted her hands into her pockets with a rueful smile. Situations like this were always interesting. The two of them had been thrown together by the creature, but there wasn’t anything further to connect them now that it was over. Yes, she’d met someone knew, but now that she didn’t have to, Raisa wasn’t in the mood to stick around. 

“See you around, Emilio,” she said as she took a step in the direction she’d intended to go. Mentally she made a note to keep an eye out if she saw him around.

#mortemoppetere #wr writing

[cosmoknightchaos]

25 for any character I wanna read your ramblings

25. What is your favourite thing about your OC?

Wow. Dill asking a non-angsty question from an angsty OC ask? That's crazy man

Below are 29 OCs that I'm currently using enough to have favourite bits about them. Enjoy

A Hat in Time OCs

Horalo AU Skyscreamer: Baby girl. Favourite thing about her would probably be the fine line I have to walk between being a kind, caring woman and a motherly figure while writing her. Sky is supposed to be the cool older sister and it's a lot of fun to portray that in writing! The Flower Man: His dialogue. I fucking LOVE how this man speaks and it is so much fun to write. Also taking his lore out of context. He canonically has the most rizz out of anyone in the Horizon and it is my favourite fact about him. King Moonjumper: His personality specifically in the currently unreleased Act7. He likes playing himself up, seeming like a big threat, and then the moment something doesn't go his way he has a meltdown. He's so silley.

Wanderer AU Ester: I have a scene from the ending of Wanderer doodled out where Ester and MJ are standing in the frozen remains of Subcon and they are holding hands. It's just something about her being a scared, sassy, almost insignificant child, especially when put up next to characters like Graves or Snatcher who are much more lore-relevant, and yet she stays MJ's closest companion and most trusted friend throughout the entire story. Gravedigger: Absolutely anything that can draw more parallels between her and Gleb, the character she takes the role of. Mourner/Cathrine: Saying my favourite part of her character is that she gets my favourite song from Anastasia feels like cheating, but it's definitely up there. Probably her loyalty. She is, above all, loyal to her homeland, and refuses to let that part of her go after the freeze. She's one of the few characters not really running away from her past, but instead slowly coming to terms with it. Count Adrianne: He's a perfect example of a complex character who seems very simple on the outside and I love him for it. Either that or his relationship with Snatcher. They bicker like siblings because they were both older siblings before dying and are projecting on to each other and it's very silly. Kaizo: He's a whore what else can I say

Misc. Anya: Ouuugh. That's a hard one. Favourite bit about them is probably their coping mechanisms. They are so good at taking things at face value, accepting them, and then watching everything else devolve into chaos around them like a sitcom without doing anything to help. They speedrun the 5 stages of grief just so they can make fun of everyone else and completely fuck themself over in the process because they don't actually learn how to cope

Hollow Knight OCs (The Religious Trauma Squad)

Gospel: Her lore! She's so fucked up <3 Edge: One of the big things about RTS is that the main three characters go through very similar character arcs, but they're all in different stages of it. We first meet Edge at the end of his character arc, where he's already decided that most gods are assholes and he doesn't owe his devotion to anyone. Then, during the rest of the story, he gets to watch two other people experience similar events, and it forces him to help them because he doesn't want the to go through the same things he did. It's just a fun dynamic of him already knowing who he is and his heritage and being comfortable with that, and now helping others learn the same thing. Marion: His absolute and total devotion to the troupe during his time in it, and his relationship with Gospel after he gets kicked out.

Ivy

Jenny: She (in a way) dismantles the idea of a "Chosen One" hero and I think that's pretty neat. Morgan: She's just silly. Couldn't tell you why, I just really like her. Myo: They are a BITCH. Lying little bastard and I love them for it. They would murder someone, turn around, and go "I'm just a little guy it's my birthday you wouldn't punish a little guy on his birthday would you" and it would work. And, as the actual "Chosen One" of the story, it's fun to see them go over the edge trying to be the special main character.

Project Scepsis OS

Paisley: They don't let their past traumas and experiences define who they are and I think that's really neat! Marci: It's practically a self-insert and those characters will always be special to me. Also, it's just a blob. What's not to love? The actual answer is its story arc where it nearly kills Sonemeir on accident and traumatizes them both for life Kat: Her species as a concept. The idea of a shapeshifter who has to eat something to shift into it is fascinating to me. Prof. Sonemeir: He is so fucked up in so many ways. Dude has been through the horrors(TM). His entire character deals with the idea of legacies and how what you create will last longer than you will, which is really funny because he hates everything he's created and it will haunt him for the rest of his life. And also that aforementioned arc with Marci Creator: His character design. He is very fun to draw :)

ET's Coffee Shop

Phoebe: She is the best example of "some normal dude who got wrapped up in everyone else's shenanigans" and I think that's very funny. Also the fact that she is destined to kill her entire family. There is no escaping fate around here Juno/Altalune: Oh my GODDDD I am INSANE about this man. Definitive favourite thing is his character design, I fucking love his character design it is so good and so much fun to draw, but I have to shout out his relationship with ET because it's my favourite part of the entire story as a whole. Audun: Everyone else in this story, including the two main antagonists, uses more traditional or magic-based weapons: Phoebe has daggers, Juno and Tristen use swords and magic, ET has shapeshifting powers, stuff like that. Audun, on the other hand, has a gun. Cirsten: She is too good for this world. So incredibly loving and caring of everyone at all times. Her and Audun are the best romantic relationship I've ever written and they make me so happy. Tristen Kannaroe: The way his name sounds. It just rolls off the tongue so nicely and it fits his character so well. And his character design. He looks exactly how he acts and I love it. Also, his couple hundred horrific "deaths" and the fact that he is immortal because Alta won't let him die. ET: I feel like I could say "character design" for every single Coffee Shop character and it would work. They're all so good. Anyways, ET's relationship with Alta and ET's death are my favourite bits. And also that he's kind of an allegory for neurodivergence. TQ: Character de- I step on a banana peel and comically fall down the nearest set of stairs. Seriously though. I have a bit running where all of the deity/god-like characters are drawn in a different style, and TQ's is lineless. They look so good in that style and I love drawing them. Personality-wise, I love how incredibly objective they are. They're so blunt and honest at all times, especially with Alta. It's really funny to see Alta try to justify his actions to TQ and them going "Okay but you did just level and entire city" Ayabe: Their backstory and their relationship with Audun! Their magic is also cool as fuck. Crumpet: Yeah it's character design again

#Listen man. The character design of Coffee Shop is some of my proudest works. They're all so good #Marci Answers #Ahit Horalo AU #Ahit Wanderer AU #HK Religious Trauma Squad #Project Scepsis OS #ET's Coffee Shop #Okay. Because I like hiding things in the tags I will put two more bits here #Edge has commandeered Infinite as his theme song. Which is another of my favourite things about him #Yes I have done lyric comics with him #And the whole thing of Flower having the most rizz? Yeah Flower Man fucks canonically #I like bringing that one up without context

[crocuta-corvax]

Isekai Bad Batch - Imma Wot??

Author’s Notes: yer a jedi reader! Reader is nicknamed Grey <3 Features: Force Sensitive G/N reader Relationships: Wrecker x Reader ...? Warnings: None as far as I can tell :>

----------------------------------------------------------------- Ever since you walked through the space between the two funny looking trees out the back of your new house, your life has changed. For the better? You still weren’t sure. Some would say yes, you get to galivant about the apparently Very Real Star Wars universe. Even better, with the one and only Clone Force 99. But there’s so many things you miss, your family, friends, your little cat Greedo. You don’t know if it’s even possible to get back. Tech had found the prospect of an alternate dimension and you being here absolutely fascinating, so at least you knew he had you covered if there was a possibility of getting home. So despite your internal conflict, you’ve settled on trying to enjoy the experience while it lasts. And right now, your best way of enjoying the whole experience is by attempting to fulfil your secret childhood wish, to wield the force. --- You’d been staring at Lula for what seemed like hours, stretching your hand out toward the doll in hopes that something would happen, a wiggle, a nudge, anything! Wrecker had wandered past the doorway, then backtracked to peer in at you. “Hey Grey, whatcha doing??” “Trying to use the force.” you mutter without breaking eye contact with the doll.  “Ooooh! Did you learn how from the vids from your world?” Wrecker scootches in to the room, hoping to hear more about your dimension. All of the Batch were sweet enough to not press too hard on questions about home, they didn’t want to cause you any pain by reminding you too often, but you couldn’t blame them when their curiosity got the better of them, and honestly, it was fun to compare the differences and similarities between your two universes. “Yes...No? They don’t really explain how to actually use it? At least not in anything I ever watched. They were always like...’Yooou feeeeeel it withiiiiin yoooooouuu~’” you say in your best worst Alec Guinness impression, while waving your hands about, all mystical-like. Wrecker snorts with a laugh,  “Hah! That’s a good one! The Jedi were pretty ooOOOoooHH~!” Wrecker wiggled his fingers back at you. “I remember a Jedi once tried explainin’ it to me, that it’s like...picking up the droid, and smashing it with your thought hands! I still don’t really get it, I’d much rather use my real hands!” he emphasised this by pounding his fists together. “Maybe that might help?” Cocking your head to the side, you think for a moment, before a little light comes on inside your mind. Maybe you’d been approaching it all wrong? You’d been trying to coax the object toward you like it had a will of its own, but perhaps it was as Wrecker said, you needed to use your minds hands, to manipulate the force that surrounded the doll instead. Wrecker narrowed his eyes at you, a grin slowly creeping across his face,  “You’ve got that look you get!” Grinning back at him, you grab his hand to pull him further into the room, “You’ve given me an idea Wreck, but I need you to watch, I’m going to close my eyes while I do it.” “KRIFF YEAH!” he eagerly positions himself to the side of you, still holding your hand excitedly, a slight blush across his cheeks. “Ok, you tell me if ANYTHING happens to Lula, ok? “Affirmative!!” Closing your eyes, you gently squeeze Wreckers hand for moral support who obligingly, and ever-so gently, squeezes back. You raise your hand up in the doll’s direction and draw on your imagination as much as possible, picturing the scooping and lifting of Lula as clearly as you can, the sensation of the weight of the doll, the motion of grasping and raising it in to the air. Imagining the very air around you is a solid extension of your mind. Then you hear a gasp from beside you and your hand being squeezed again,  “LULA’S MOVING! HAHAHA!” Snapping your eyes open, you catch Lula drop from being a few inches off the floor and slump to the side.  “Oh!” you blink in disbelief, “OH!” “YER A JEDI GREY!”  “I CAN USE THE FORCE!!” you shriek before tackling Wrecker into a hug while cackling uncontrollably.

--- Up in the cockpit, the others begin to wonder what all the screeching and hollering is about that’s coming from the far end of the ship.

#isekai #star wars isekai #the bad batch isekai #the bad batch #wrecker #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #wrecker/reader #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #force sensitive reader

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you know of any creepypasta and/or internet urban legend themed ttrpgs? Not (just) horror, but specifically creepypasta with all the kind of silly stuff that includes like… themes and vibes of common ones that might even make the game silly depending on how you play it? Whether u play as Jeff the killer or have to fight him I’d love to see it lol

THEME: Internet Legends

What I looked for when I tracked down these recs were either a) things that referenced creepy pastas in their description, or b) games that directly connected to internet culture. Have fun with these ones!

Watching Us, by Justinquirit.

Tonight, we are alone together with the Watcher. None of us knows who or what he is, but he has been haunting each of us with his silent gaze. Although he has never approached us, we have imagined what he might do if he did.

Perhaps, if we stick together, we may escape this nightmare.

Watching Us is a game for 2-6 players and takes about an hour to play. Draw cards and answer their prompts, then invoke the Watcher's image. Together, slowly uncover the face of the entity that has been haunting all of you.

This looks like an excellent way to slowly build up the terror of something that’s been following you for a long time. It’s built on For The Queen, which is a game that relies on a story that’s built slowly over time by answering questions. This game was also made for the Fucked-Up Guy Game Jam, which has a number of other ttrpg items that may fit into the creepy-pasta mold about eerie human-like entities that won’t leave you alone.

Chase the H0ll0w, by Brandon Leon-Gambetta.

A game of fear and isolation for 3 to 5 players who would go into a bunker in the woods to follow something horrifying.

Chase the H0ll0w is a secret identity roleplaying game that tells a story similar to creepypasta fiction over the span of about two hours. It is intended for 3 to 5 players with one of those players taking on the role of game facilitator.

Players portray a group of internet sleuths exploring an abandoned or hidden place that is haunted by something terrifying and strange. They will be attempting to learn enough about it to solve how to get it to stop chasing them and (hopefully) to get their friend back who was already taken. 

This is a game in which each player is going to take on a secret role that will also likely determine their objectives throughout the course of play. If you want a game that will challenge you to out-last your friends, this might be worth checking out.

Contact from Unknown, by Speak the Sky.

..the graveyard shift 24-hour store clerk has too many teeth (pale like the moon, which is losing its shine)

...the airport never gets any night flights but there's always arrivals (in the moon-shaped terminal)

...the public-access astronomy TV show that starts at 3:33am and plays backwards (with a weird fixation with 'lunar songs')

Why doesn't anyone see this? Nobody seems to care. So, you turned to the best store of esoteric knowledge you could find - pseudonymous night owl weirdos in online chatrooms for paranormal investigators. Luckily, you matched with someone else in town, but it sounds like you might have different ideas about what's causing these things to happen. Still, someone is better than no-one. Now you just need to swap your knowledge, share your insight, and see if you can find the truth that's out there.

Before it finds you.

Contact from Unknown is a 2-player role-playing investigation game of dark lunar mysteries, esoteric chatroom weirdos, and gut-feeling horror that's designed for play via online messaging apps!

Each of you plays a paranormal investigator who's realised there's something terribly wrong with the moon, and the only other person in town who also knows is a fellow night owl in an internet chatroom... unless they're actually in on the mystery too. It's up to you to find out the truth and live to tell the tale. How do all the local urban legends and assorted weirdness in town figure into the mystery? Is the force behind everything merely alien or truly malevolent? Play to find out!

This is a great two-player game for making up and tracking down urban legends, especially if you don’t necessarily want a horror element. The two of you will put together clues together while on an internet chat-room, as you figure out whether the street sign parasites are connected to the new kid who everyone already knows, or whether both are just signs of something bigger… and weirder. This is also perfect for play between two people who can’t share the same physical space.

#dnd #game recommendations #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #urban legends #internet horror #creepypasta #asks

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

The sillies…

Anyways. Decided to start working on body headcanons! I’m adding soldier in the first one too (this is supposed to be a photo for Krogan’s file! Krogan doesn’t know what a camera is and the flash spooked him lol)

And I figured I could throw in my 3k word document on Lycanwings for more context as to what exactly Krogan’s other majority is :

I will also add a few other silly headcanons for the au.

I put Demo as roughly 41-42 in this au, which works out great because Krogan is 23. The cover story for Krogan’s appearance is that he’s Tavish’s son that was born out of wedlock and Demo never really knew about until very recently (mostly since they have some similar features so it is somewhat believable.)

Krogan has a quite odd accent to the other mercs, he rolls his J’s to where they make more of a jshh sound instead of your typical j, as well as having some off amalgamation of a Russian/Slavic and a mix of a few other accents that is quite unfamiliar to anything else (since he fluently speaks and was around people that spoke Norse in his old world.)

He does also speak some ancientt offshoot anscestor language to modern Russian. He understands the vowels and punctuation and wording of modern Russian, but not quite what is being said per se (it would be easy for him to learn though.).

I might do a Christmas peice though soon… Krogan has never seen a Christmas tree and the mercs have a nice big tree in the main room of the base >:]. Krogan was also a sort of gift, is what Demo calls him. Krogan showed up on exactly October 31st? Which is also Krogan’s birthday. They didn’t know that then of course, but they make up for it next year. (This also means Krogan is freshly a 23 year old when he arrives.) He is technically a Norse pagan and celebrates Norse pagan holidays, which Swissmas is considered Yule/snoggletog where he’s from, though he’s never actually celebrated. He didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with.

He thinks he’s not the best at giving gifts, but Krogan whittled each of the mercs a little wooden figurine the first year. Soldier got one of an eagle, made out of American pine (as the founding fathers would have wanted), Tavish got a little frog, since Demoks bomb jumping reminds Krogan of frogs. Medic gets one of archemedes, made from a small chunk of birch. I’m indecisive with Heavy, might have his figurine be one of his mother since she’s so significant to him.

But yes. Other thoughts. Since Krogan is still arguably quite young by even partial lycanwing standards, over time he will slowly get more scales on his body, like on his arms and legs. They don’t really need care, but he does polish them because it makes him feel pretty.

Tavish and Jane are the only who get to actually see him without shoes or without his feet being bound. Except spy. Spy is spy and he sees and knows everything. (Krogan doesn’t care because it’s just spy being nosy as per usual.)

It is a whole note in his file that Krogan is seriously… traumatized and suffers from PTSD and severe night terrors. He doesn’t tell anyone what they are about, and the few times he has tried, his descriptions to Demo are usually jumbles of sound and colors and smells that are all in your face with the feeling of dread and terror that this one singular figure gives him.

Demo found out that a better way for Krogan to express his fears and dreams is through art, though what he’s seen through the dark, heavy shadowed drawings of a man wearing a black dragon skin cloak and wielding a bull hook is that the individual in the man’s past that ripped him away from something at some point. There is a sort of dread that lingers from the way Krogan draws him. Stark shadows where the only thing you can see of the man’s face is a set of beady eyes that seem to search his soul for every single infraction that he’s ever made.

Tavish hopes he does not ever have to meet that man. For Krogan’s sake, at least.

(Backstory. The man is the one who owns and branded Krogan. The branding itself is a completely disgusting thing to the team.)

Soldier though. Soldier still sees the men, women and children marked with numbers in The Camps whenever he sees the brand. It is not a good feeling, anything other than pure rage that makes him want to find the man and take him down himself. No one should be dehumanized to anything but property. Not on his watch.

Anyways. Rambling over. Thoughts are going brain blast rn!!

#httyd #krogan #httyd rtte #krogan rtte #krogan httyd #rtte #httyd fanart #httyd fandom #httyd au #fanart #httyd Krogan #Maea’s tf2 au #rtte krogan #tf2 demoman #Demoman tf2 #tavish degroot #yippe #the sillies #tf2 au

[longlivequeenmallow]

In the ongoing conversation around jk rowling I’ve seen Ursula le Guin's Earthsea saga brought up a lot. Usually as a “better alternative” to Harry Potter. While I love Ursula le Guin and the earthsea saga especially it’s misleading and honestly insulting to le guin to say that it is at all like Harry Potter. If you open A Wizard of Earthsea expecting it to be like Harry Potter YOU WILL BE DISAPPOINTED! People who liked Harry Potter are not going to like a wizard of earthsea. at least not for the same reasons.

On a surface level I can see the similarities. A young wizard with a scar on his face goes to a magical wizard school to learn wizard words. But the similarities end there. People liked Harry Potter for its magical whimsy mixed with the relatability of still having to do homework and deal with teachers that hate you. If you are looking for a more ethical story to fill that hole you will not find it in earthsea

1. A wizard of earthsea was written in 1968 and while the content actually holds up pretty well, the writing style and story pacing are gonna feel off to modern audiences

2. Despite there being a wizard school it is not a British boarding school genre story. It is full fantasy in a very unique world of Ursula’s own creation (if I had to draw a real world comparison I’d say late Bronze Age meets the Philippines) and SPOILERS he’s only at the school for a handful of chapters before he gets expelled

3. The magic is very different. You can’t just wave a wand around and make stuff happen. It has weight and consequences.

4. A wizard of earthsea is about a brash and bold young man earning wisdom by facing the consequences of his own actions. The second book isn’t even about him it’s about the priestess of a death cult slowly learning to question said death cult.

I love the earthsea saga and would absolutely recommend it but you shouldn’t go in expecting it to be something it isn’t. If you are interested I recommend reading the second book the Tombs of Atuan first (it’s better written and that’s how my dad read it to me because that’s how he read it so we’re of the opinion that’s the right order), read the wizard of earthsea second to get geds backstory and then go linearly from there.

#i've had this post in my drafts for a while but never posted cause it seemed like folks had moved away from offering alternatives to hp #and gone full scorched earth #but i saw someone bring up le guin again today and like man don't disrespect one of my favorite authors by comparing her to fucking rowling

[wonolic]

Our blogs are so similar, i live your corina headcanons and overall her vibes <3 How do you think her room would look like at she sakamakis?

Corina's room at the Sakamaki manor ! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠ )

A/N: gave a fast look at your blog and I agree. Thank you really much, you're my first ask, I'll try to give a deeper look at your posts later! Because you love her headcanons, I'll make some for you! Hope you like it!

︵ ︵ ︵ ︵ . . . .

I tried to find drawings of rooms that could pass as canon. Of course, it's not in DL's style and I would like to make my own idea of Corina's room, but because I don't know how to draw, I'll put pics I found on Pinterest here. P.S. I don't know where these are from.

𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 ⤸

𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 ⤸

Even if the Sakamaki's had enough room for having an extra bride, they never actually received 2 brides at the same time (Shu knew they were receiving two brides but wanted to see Reiji stressing himself over it).

So, at first, Corina had to sleep in one of the guest's rooms for approximately 1 week before Reiji's familiars finished preparing a customized room for her.

Reiji put some books on her desk and left a note saying that it was chosen by him, but when Corina got a book to read, she noticed all of the books had an old language that she couldn't understand.

When she tried complaining to him about it, he just looked at her with an uninterested face and said “It's an opportunity for you to use that brain of yours for something and try to learn a new thing. Now, please, I need to finish this potion, or would you prefer to stay and test it for me?”. Corina left the laboratory almost instantly.

Not big, not small, always a mess.

Her clothes live around the room, it's not like Corina doesn't want to put them in the wardrobe, but she's too lazy to do it, and the mess she makes with her clothes makes the room feel cozy, so it's more like a win-win case.

She loves to overly decorate it, hates the brothers rooms because they just look so... empty, like, a chair is not enough decoration, Subaru!

She has some portraits of herself and her mom around her room. There were also a few ex-friends photos around her room too, but they were slowly being replaced with photos of Corina with Yui and the Sakabros.

A/N: That was it, I hope you feel satisfied with my answer and I apologize if it wasn't what you wanted. Again, thank you so much for your ask! See you in the next post! 💗

#☆ — [ oc . corina tanaka ] #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #corina tanaka

[mystery-star]

Old Wounds – Ben Wade (Part 2 / 5)

Pairing: Ben Wade x fem!reader

Warnings: tiny sexual allusion, fear of abandonment, mentions of wounds

Words: 3512

Series Navigation:   Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

Not even fifteen minutes later, Ryan was back at your door alone, asking if your son could come to play and of course Johnny agreed. You shook your head as you watched them, amazed how quickly their feud was forgotten.

“He seems to have trouble with that other kid” you winced when you heard Ben’s voice behind you

“Their friendship is weird. I mean one moment they’re best friends, then they hate each other after a fight, only minutes later it’s like nothing happened” you shook your head.

“Kids” he said “Though my boys sometimes are the same. Just that if they get into a huge fight, one of them ain’t gonna make it” he sat down on a chair and let out a sigh, holding his chest.

“Shouldn’t you lie down?”

“You’re the doctor” you crossed your arms

“Then go lie down. Now!”

“Only if you’ll come and stay by my side”

“That’s quite a request you make there. But okay. ‘Cause I have feeling you won’t listen otherwise” back in ‘his’ room, you sat down on the chair at the bedside and waited until he was lying “If we’re already here, let me have a look” just giving a nod, Ben closed his eyes

“What’s he like?”

“Who? Like what?”

“He. Your… our son” you gave a shrug

“Depends on his mood. Usually he’s happy and eager to get active. He’s very intelligent, curious and caring but his teachers say he’s sometimes a bit of a troublemaker or is just daydreaming for an eternity. I mean of course they don’t talk to me; how could a man of the church talk to a woman who’s got a bastard? I hear it through others. And he’s got a great patience to get what he wants and if he doesn’t… well half the town hears that. Or he gets temper tantrums in general… Sometimes I think he’s just a bit bored. I mean… all the other kids, they’ve got both mother and father and while the father works, the mother takes care of the children all day. I never could spend the whole day with him, so he had to learn to take care of himself. Sometimes I feel like that’s why he’s always so active and out playing with others. Yet I feel like he is lonely in a way”

“Lonely?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he just sits outside the doorstep and draws figures in the sand for hours. Or is in the stables, trying to knot straw together. Or sometimes when he’s playing with others it seems like he’s apart. Not really focusing on the game. No other kids do any of that. Maybe that’s because I didn’t have time for him and he needed to find something to occupy himself with”

“I’m sure it’s not your fault. You had to work, earn money somehow”

“I know. Still, I can’t help but wonder, can’t help but blame myself…”

“Don’t. It’s no good. ‘sides, I just think it’s his nature that he actually wants some time to himself”

“Really?” you didn’t know if you should be relieved to hear this or angry because he assumed to know what was going on inside your son after he knew he existed for less than an hour.

“Yeah. He’s just like me. I was just the same. Basically still am, sometimes”

“Well, I sometimes did notice he is similar to you. And he’s definitely got your eyes” he chuckled

“Will you tell me his name?”

“Johnny” you said “Well, officially it’s John but no one calls him that”

“I like Johnny better”

“Most do. Including him” you chuckled but then looked down “You said he’s much like you… Do-do you think he is lonely?”

“Among his peers maybe. Doesn’t quite know where to fit in. But he knows he’s got someone at least. He’s got you. That he’s loved by you” the way he said it sounded like he didn’t have that person that made him feel loved and you swallowed. Slowly, you moved your hand up his arm, lifting his hand to your face.

“You’re not alone either, Ben” you said quietly “I can’t even say how often I thought of you these years. Wished you’d come back. Missed you. Sometimes when I thought I couldn’t go on, I wished I had someone I could talk to, someone who’d help me get me back to my feet. It may sound weird because we only knew each other for a little under two weeks but… it’s like you were what I had been looking for my whole life. And if this was just about me, I’d run off with you immediately. But Johnny he… he only knows this. He does have friends here and that’s his home. He barely knows of the struggles I had before I was accepted.”

“We’ll find a way. I’ll hide in here for the rest of my life if I have to”

“No” you said “I need this room for my patients” you smiled “I’d hide you in my bed”

“I like that even more” he moved the hand down to your collar and slightly pulled you down to kiss you. After you parted, you smiled and tugged on his arm.

“Come”

“Come where? Thought you wanted me to lie down?”

“Well, I’m hiding you in my bed now” chuckling he sat up

“And what’s the little one gonna say if he finds me there?”

“I’ll think of something”, you led him to your bedroom and after he lay down, you did the same next to him

“At least he can’t do anything against it unlike your father” you smiled

“Not like he could prevent it either”

“Did he know?”

“About what?”

“Us?”

“Well, he’s a doctor. He discovered quite a few pregnancies before. He noticed mine as well and must have calculated back”

“You should have told him I forced you”

“That’s what he assumed at first. He got mad at me because I told him the truth. Though I don’t know why. Maybe because I didn’t like the way he talked about you. Then he sent me away”

“He sent you away?”

“Well, not away away. Just out of the house. I left the place because I wanted to avoid hearing talks from my friends behind my back”

“Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“And how? Get out in the wild and hope you find me before someone else or animals do? Besides… what if you had not wanted me? Pregnant? All on my own?” he pulled you a little closer

“You really thought I’d send you away? I don’t think I even could have done it. Right now, I’m don’t even know how I could have ever left”

“Well, Charlie seemed rather eager to get you back” chuckling you moved closer, cuddling against his side “How long do you think it’ll take him to come back this time?”

“Too soon”

“Probably” you sighed and both of you fell silent. His hand went to your waist and he was pulling up your dress. “What are you doing?” you asked. His reply was a smug grin and that his hand wandered to the inside of your thigh, slowly rubbing your skin and moving the hand upwards “No” you said, catching his lower arm

“’m sorry. Didn’t want to…”

“No. It’s not that I don’t want you to touch me. Hell, I wish you would but. But you’ve gotta take care of yourself” you kissed his hand instead “Another time” not letting go of his hand, you brought it to your chest instead “Promise”

“Your loss” he muttered and you kicked his shin with a giggle. He freed his hand from your grip and it wandered to your hair, undoing your pins and smoothing it out “Much better” he said, brushing his hand through it, making you chuckle

“You know, Johnny too loves to undo my hair and braid it in the evenings”

“Well, he’s my boy. Of course he does. What other things does he do that remind you of me?” you chuckled

“One day he came home, all angry after a game he played with his friends. Two of them are the sons of the sheriff’s deputy. So of course, if they play something they’re always the law. That leaves Johnny to either be the Indian or the outlaw. And of course the law always wins and this upsets him so much because he doesn’t want to die or lose in the game all the time. So, I just told him to cheat, since he is an outlaw and they do cheat but apparently his friends don’t want that” he raised an eyebrow and nuzzled your neck

“You really think we play dirty to get what we want?” his hand went to your side and tickled you

“Stop!” you screamed, wanting to kick him but fearing to hit one of his wounds “That’s exactly it!” luckily he stopped but only after he leaned over you and kissed you lovingly.

“Why doesn’t he just play with other kids? I mean there are kids that prefer being outlaw. They pretend to do robberies and all”

“The thing is, he doesn’t mind being the ‘bad’ guy. He just wants to win sometimes. And usually, the kids that prefer being the outlaw are the older ones who won’t let him join because he’s too young”

“Pity. I bet he’d make a good show of it all” he fell silent

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I want him wanting to play the outlaw. Don’t want him to glorify the life I live.”

“Me neither. Although I agree. The idea would be funny and he’d play a great part. I mean, the other kids tell stories about how their father, deputy sheriff arrested someone and almost got shot. Or how they had to help their father calm down a wild horse or retrieve cattle that ran off. Then there’s Johnny ‘Hey, I waited in my room while my Mommy treated a guy who almost shot his own balls off’.”

“That’s a great story, actually. How’d it happen?”

“Cleaned his gun while drunk and forgot it was loaded” you chuckled “He tried to tell me his dog bit him though. But he came out with the truth when I asked him if his dog had bullets instead of teeth, because if yes, he’d lost one”

“You really got a bullet out a guy’s ball?”

“I’m trying not to think about it”

“What other weird patients did you have?”

“Well, not really weird patients. Just weird injuries”

-

While you were telling him more about things you had seen in your years as a doctor on your own, your son returned home. Luckily, you had left your bed before he saw you there but he did see Ben in it and of course asked you why he was there.

“This bed’s better for him. It’s more comfortable”

“You never let patients in your bed. You give them an extra blanket” not knowing what to reply, you just tousled his hair. Johnny just crossed his arms and glared at the outlaw “We are friends with Sheriff Matt, just that you know” he said and walked away, making you chuckle.

After dinner it seemed like Ben wanted to start an attempt to get to know his son. When he had asked if you allowed him to talk to Johnny you had both felt touched he asked first but somehow it had hurt that he felt like he’d need to ask you.

“How’s school going?” he asked, since your son was sitting at the table, doing some writing exercises. Johnny just looked up at him, then focused on his paper again.

“Mommy told me not to talk to strangers”

“Well that’s very clever advice of her”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can talk to him if you like. I’m around after all”

“How ‘bout I introduce myself, then I ain’t no stranger no more?” Johnny eyed him critically and before he came to a decision, Ben told him his name and held out his hand. Throwing a quick glance in your direction, your son took it.

“Johnny” he said “are you the Ben Wade?”

“You know several?”

“No. Just one” he put his quill down “Are you him?” he sounded really interested now.

“I don’t know which one you mean”

“The famous outlaw!” Ben chuckled

“Well yes, I am”

“That’s great. But I wish I could tell my friends that you’re here”

“Your mother told me they have you playing the outlaw most of the time. Don’t you think if you told them ‘bout your Mommy treating one they’d do it even more?” Johnny shrugged

“Dunno. Maybe. But I don’t mind being the outlaw. I just want to win sometimes” he glanced at Ben again “Do you win sometimes?”

“Wouldn’t be so famous if I didn’t, would I?”

“Right. I’ll tell Ryan that. That outlaws sometimes do win. Thank you”

“But just for playing huh, not that you’re gonna end up like me”

“No” he shook his head “I want to be a doctor, like Mommy”

“That is a nice plan. I’m sure you’ll be great and she can teach you a lot”

“Yeah” he picked up his quill again and Ben looked at him

“All good?”

“Yes”

“You sound kinda sad, you know?”

“It’s just some other kids say that my Mommy couldn’t teach me anything I need to know”

“Well, I bet they’re just jealous their mothers aren’t as great as yours and save lives or help people” Johnny shrugged.

“Maybe” the outlaw threw a questioning glance at you, and although you had no idea what he was trying to ask, you nodded and made a hand movement you couldn’t really define.

“You mean they be telling you what you need is a Daddy showing you things that women can’t?” with a look of surprise, your son nodded. “And what do you think? You need a father?” you gulped. Was that what Ben had been trying to ask; if he could tell your son the truth? And of course Johnny had the right to know but you didn’t know if it was the right time and you wanted to be the one telling him. But before you could put an end to the conversation, Johnny shrugged.

“Mommy says that we don’t talk about my Daddy”

“’Cause she doesn’t like him?” now your son threw a glance at you

“It’s not that” you said instead “I just met him once, when I still lived with my father and he doesn’t even know about our son. Johnny knows that much and that it’s highly unlikely that we’d ever see him again. I just wanted to avoid that he’s always asking questions about him. Who he is, where he is, if he can meet him and so on. Maybe not the best idea, I admit”

“No, does make sense. You’ve never considered finding someone? To take care of both of you?”

“In the beginning. But it never really worked out and then I realized we get by on our own. And I mean when he gets older and needs to know stuff I can’t help him with someone surely will help. As a friend”

“Like Matt”

“Exactly”

-

Later that evening, you were in your son’s room, reading him a story.

“Are you lonely?” he asked, making you chuckle

“Why would I, I got you?” you ruffled his hair and he slightly turned away

“Yes but I mean a friend” you looked at him and let out a fake gasp, pouting

“You mean, you’re not my friend?” with a giggle he hugged you

“’course you are, Mommy” he looked up “my best friend” he leant his head against your arm “And when I’m grown up, I’m gonna marry you” you chuckled

“You can’t marry me, sweetheart. But you’ll find yourself a nice girl and then will only have eyes for her anymore”

“You think?”

“Of course. I mean how could any girl resist you?” you tickled his side “I think the mayor’s daughter, Rosie, she seems to like you” indeed you had caught the older girl stealing secret glances at your son when he was playing with his friends.

“I think she wants to play with us. She asked if she could but the others said no”

“Well, most boys don’t want girls playing with them”

“But why?”

“Maybe they think they’re boring or weak?”

“But she has a Daddy. He’s the mayor. Why would she be boring or weak?”

“Having a father has nothing to do with that. And you are neither of the two because you haven’t grown up with a father” he gave a slight nod and touched the book, a sign he wanted you to continue. But you couldn’t. Not yet. “Johnny…” you started slowly “What would you think about leaving?”

“Leaving?” he sounded shocked. Or at least surprised

“Yes. That we’d go and live somewhere else”

“Why?”

“Well, the world is big and there’s lot to see and many people to meet”

“Do you want to find new friends?”

“Who knows? And maybe you’ll find some too”

“And a girl?” he asked

“Yes of course” he gave a shrug

“I don’t know. Would it make you happy?”

“I can’t say it yet” if you were honest, you didn’t even know if it was such a good idea to give everything up to go with Ben Wade. After all, you had only seen him for less than three weeks. How were you supposed to know what would happen if you actually lived together? Wasn’t it better to stay where you knew everything and hope he might drop by sometimes? You let out a deep sigh.

“Are you scared of Ben Wade? Is that why you want to leave?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not scared of him. I actually met him before. He once was my patient before and we talked a bit and I knew he really means no harm. And he still is the same”

“What about his gang?”

“He already promised they won’t hurt us”

-

As Ben was starting to feel better in the following days, he insisted to help you wherever he could. Doing the dishes, clean up or cook. And he had also promised that in case you’d choose to stay here, he would make sure you never needed any money; that he would provide you with anything you needed and more. Somehow you still weren’t sure what you were supposed to do but whenever he sat at the table with you, something your patients rarely did, you somehow started to feel as if you really were a family. And if you went with him and found out you didn’t like it, you surely could leave, right? But somehow this was exactly what you were scared of; that once you were his, he’d change and would be different from the man you had loved once (and still did).

“Is something on your mind?” Ben asked one evening as you lay cuddled up in your bed.

“I don’t know what I want” you swallowed “Somehow… I want to come and live with you but I’m scared”

“Scared of what?”

“That it all could change. That… that you change and when you grow bored of me…”

“Hey” he placed a hand on your cheek “I will never grow bored of me and even if I did, I would never ever hurt you or something like that. And should you find out that I’m not the man you want to spend your life with, then you can always leave”

“You’d let me leave?

“Of course I would! What kinda question is that?”

“It’s just… you’re an outlaw. And they always just take whatever they want. With force if they have to”

“What I want is a life with you. To love you and protect you from any kind of harm and make sure you’re both happy. You think I’d achieve that by hurting you or the little one?” you had to smile

“No” you let out a sigh “It’s just… I wish it could stay like this forever, like it is now. But I know it’s either having to let you go or going with you”

“How ‘bout I stay a lil’ longer? Tell the boys to leave and come back in a couple of weeks or months.  I hide here, no one will know and you can get to know me better? How’s that sound?”

“Isn’t that dangerous for you?”

“Not too much. But I’d risk it. Risk it all to make you feel safe. And I get to spend more time with you. However, if someone does find me, I can always leave” you gave a nod

“Yes. That sounds good. I’d like that. I mean you staying, not someone finding you” with a smile he kissed your forehead. “The question remains how your men will take it”

“They’ll have to accept it but I feel like Charlie ain’t gonna like it”

#ben wade #3:10 to yuma #ben wade imagine #ben wade x reader #ben wade x you

[pocket-gems]

Is it ok to ask why do you wanna yeet the SU style?

Oh all fine! It's some sort of a ramble and I cannot believe I can ramble about a blog sjhfsfhks

I've been drawing on a more SU style and trying to learn it for uhhh 3/4 years I think? I actually started drawing more about SU because some of my friends back then told me that my art reminded them/looked like SU

(Old art for reference. Older art is traditional and mostly chibi-like)

And because of it I basically started this blog lmao

So with time my take on SU slowly evolved

Like

Quite literally

One part of me feels like I mastered it and that there's nothing left for me here but for another part, there's art left to do and stories to tell. Each time I think I saw it all and learned everything to learn, something shows up to slap my face and open my eyes. I didn't touch fusions a lot so that sure is waiting for me

The good part of learning about SU means that one can get a more easier handle of the cartoons of this generation since they look similar (like Amphibia, SvtfoE, CofC, you get the idea-). And it's pretty nice to mess with actually. You can learn and sometimes it can get stuck to your own art-style. One gets to learn more than it looks like 👀💫

ANYWay-

I wanna yeet the SU mostly because I want to develop my own art-style and have an style that can be easily recognizable. On my brain it feels like I'm just a copy of a copy and I want to be something. Like. "Hey, this weirdo drew this!"

#also these were failed adopts that i kept as mine. i draw them once on a blue moon #ask #anon #sorry for the rambling :( #tbh i regret leaving my old blog behind to make this one but i dont regret making this one. i meet so many cool people