#and if not then shes still cool and fun to be around so ill still get a friend out of the endeavor

[arosebyan0thername]

Not speculating on a real person, but what if, yknow?

[roadstostray]

oh jeez. so much broken glass. ill get the vacuum

bonus facts about this piece under the cut

ANYA: I gave her the nighttime screen because shes associated primarily with it. but in addition to that, I chose the nightscreen for her death being the brightest thing for her in the darkest time (why the moon is on hery) she takes power away from jimmy by making that choice. If you look in her eyes, you will see a bottle of pills. yeah. you get it. The glass shatter also represents her death

SWANSEA: first of all, I've grown up drawing nothing but twinks and furries. drawing swansea was the most fun ive ever had drawing something completely new. fat old man supremacy. okay, but i chose the sunset screen for swansea as he is a fading light. still bright, sticking around, but "on his way out." i added some pink to the water reflection to represent Daisuke and his influence on Swansea. Also there is a gun in his eyes. and the bullet hole glass. It's chaotic due to the nature of the wound (thanks jimbus) and for the fact i couldn't figure out how to do two bullet wounds.

DAISUKE (🎉): i picked the daylight screen for daisuke because of his bright personality. the clouds represent his doubt in being on the tulpar, but insistence on making the most of it. he has a slit on his brow and i hand it to you to decide which you like more. Either a scar from skateboarding that he tells people is from getting into a fight, or alternatively just something he does to be cool. he has an axe highlight in his eyes, in addition to the glass shatter being that of an axe hitting glass. chaotic, messy, but ensuring a mercy kill. thats why it's not clean at all.

Jimmy and Curly: Originally, jimmy was facing the viewer, and curly was also looking to the viewer. after an artistic fit of mania, i completely restructured him to turn his back on both the tulpar crew and the viewer. he looks to the viewer instead of curly, because he wants to be seen. even if he cannot face his actions (or us, the player.) I decided to put him in the blood ocean in curly's nightmares. jimmy displaces himself from a place of friendship to one belonging in nightmares. specifically for his treatment of curly. he invades curly's greatest fears as an unseen horror. i also realized curly would be looking to jimmy, as he never looks away from him in the game. gunshot glass shatter for jimmy too. its especially pretty because it was the best thing his ass could have done (i just thought it looked cool. no symbolism there)

stupid fun facts, to get references for jimmy i used vrchat.

bonus these as icons/wallpapers. use em with credit

[be-good-to-bugs]

well. back to the horrors

[butchlifeguard]

oc tournament is publishing no one look at me

[kazoo-world]

okay. i debated not posting this because I was worried I’d get death threats (that says a lot doesn’t it) but it needs to be said, because its upsetting me.

a woman who publicly says she feels very sane and has “never been to therapy” and who breaks up with her boyfriend in part because he can’t just “”get over”” his depression to love her the way she wants/needs does not.

I repeat, does not.

get to use the imagery she did in her fortnight video.

I’ve been seeing gifsets and screenshots all day of her chained to a bed but ~aesthetic~ and being fed a pill after a cheeky side eye and strapped to a glamourfied ECT machine and no one has said anything about it so I will. those images are genuinely triggering for me.

people have been restrained, forcefed pills, and given electroconvulsive therapy or subjected to the electric chair for severe mental illness against their will. these are not fun props anyone gets to throw around to express that they feel depressed or in a “manic phase” or like they were “raised in an asylum.”

she doesn’t know how a real asylum fried my grandmother’s brain or real cops restrained me because I was psychotic and manic. she doesn’t know what it feels like to be dehumanised that way.

do better. demand she do better, too.

edit: I say that this content is triggering to say that it causes real harm. I do still have a responsibility to myself to curate an internet experience for myself. this does not negate her responsibility to avoid replicating harmful tropes in art which is deeply influential. she does not get to co-opt institutionalization or psychiatric violence as a romanticized aesthetic or as a metaphor because real people like myself have suffered greatly under the things she is representing as glamorous or cool. institutionalization silences and violates mentally ill people in a way that marginalizes them, and that experience should be treated with sensitivity and care rather than being commodified to reduce stigma. if she had experienced these things, I might feel differently, but other ableist content on the record and her statements on her life and art indicate otherwise. she is a woman with immense privilege and power and should not be using that privilege and power to punch down on mental illness.

edit 2: I want you all to know I have seen your criticism. I will not edit the post but I do respect that she has had mental health struggles since that outdated quote. That is my mistake, I own that. My apologies.

However, mental health struggles =/ experience with psychiatric violence. Experiences of mental illness are heterogenous. Aestheticizing, romanticizing, and glamourizing mental hospitals is straight up gross regardless of your experience with mental illness. It’s tasteless and offensive.

I do understand metaphors. I think that her calling her life an asylum as a metaphor is in poor taste. I think her representing her relationship struggles with the imagery of a mental institution is insensitive given the impacts that real asylums and mental hospitals have had on my life and the lives of many others like me, so I had to say something about it.

It’s ableist to assume that critics of your fav “can’t read”, “don’t understand a metaphor” or “don’t have brains” when they clearly demonstrate that they are thinking critically. Do better.

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[really-burnt-toast]

Redesigning my COTL cast pt.1

HAHA I'm finally done! I only made busts tho bc Im lazy and Im not putting myself through drawing a size chart... YET.

It WILL come, just so I can show pretty outfits and show how ridiculous Leshy's hight is LOL

If you see any spelling mistakes, please ignore them <3

(more info and rambling under cut)

Here I'll write some more things relating to each character;

Lamb

Born in Darkwood to a single mother, their mom had named them Mellia after the flowers that grow there, since they had aided in striving off an illness she had during the pregnancy.

The Lamb grew up pretty happily despite being on the run. Their mother was eventually caught whilst they made an escape. During their years of hiding, they broke their leg during one particularly risky escape and were caught not long after.

Their number is 1.600.666 because I keep making a connection between Darkwood and Germany's Schwartzwald - there are 1.6 million sheep in Germany - so I decided to have that be the approximate number. 666 was just added for fun.

Their ear was tagged to keep track of how many sheep were caught in which realm. They just so happened to be the last to be executed. By mere coincidence.

They were born without horns and kinda made the crown shape into a set. It has the benefit that they can rip em off and use them as impromptu weapons.

Due to centuries of being treated as a tool for a prophecy and merely a vessel, their self esteem is downright horrid. Whilst they don't condone followers speaking ill of them, they pretty much let Narinder trample on their feelings up until they had snapped one day. In the end it did help them both, but it wasn't great it had to be taken to that point.

Extra: I added the vitiligo because when I imagine a human version, I couldn't help but see them as having Vitiligo. Their leg limp was made after I thought it would make them look more imposing seeing someone "weak" suddenly pull out a giant hammer.

Narinder

Found within a burning village under rubble, clutching a crown as war raged around them. He was found by Shamura and taken in.

He was the first to create resurrection and back then it was an EXTREMELY taxing ritual. It would require his own godly flesh to beckon people back to life - thus it would literally cause his skin and flesh to melt off his bones. Now that's not needed anymore but his body is still weak to it, meaning during certain stress factors, he can still become skeletal. He doesn't have scarring from it, but gained some cool markings.

He was bound by his arms, torso and neck - all of which are scarred. In the afterlife he was perpetually sitting, causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Once he was usurped he had to regain his ability to walk and was taken care of by the Lamb.

He was in a catatonic state for many years and it only got better gradually with many setbacks. For years he never left the bed and by the time his Siblings had been rescued, he had barely started going outside. He was also suffering from chronic pains which wasn't really helpful.

He's also very... Temperamental. It took him just as long to say anything nice to the Lamb and it took him extra long to see them as more than his vessel.

Extra: I changed his markings to be more like I had imagined them. The catatonic trait and chronic pain was added after the update and I remember how horrible it was having tendonitis and I wanted to channel my distaste into Narinder.

Shamura

Found and raised by the last gods, they weren't the greatest sibling. They may have taken in the others but it took them a long time to be anything other than cold. With Kallamar, Shamura was distant and strict - then with Narinder they attempted to be less harsh after the kid started crying himself to sleep. With Heket and Leshy they got less and less cold. They tried their best, they'd argue.

They got carried away by their feelings as they had feared at the start and that's when the first prophecy came to them. They had kept it hidden for way too long until the balance of the crown's powers were ripping at the seams due to Narinder's pursuit in power - and they made a decision. They had told Kallamar first. Then Heket and Leshy were brought in.

Stuff happened. Now they are barely coherent and at most have an hour or two at a time where they seem to make sense. Leshy stays with them the most. Kallamar takes care of them. Heket takes care of the rest. Their skull is caved in, they lost an eye and limbs - some of the damages can't be hidden by bandages.

There's also this thing that their crown keeps getting out of control whilst trying to keep their mind stable - sometimes they'll get startled - attempt to form a weapon and instead end up with their arm speared through. They have scarring all over their body from it.

Upon recruitment they are pretty overwhelmed. Their crown can't stop them from breaking anymore and they have gotten so used to godhood that mortality now feels like they are literally rotting alive. They can feel their body wasting away.

Only after getting their relic back do they start becoming more independent and stable. They nowadays go through some sort of rehab to try and regain their sense of self.

Extra: Not much was added. I wanted to give them Glasses but I can't for the life of me draw them with a pair... So Ill just say they have them but not show them LOL

Kallamar

His past is basically forgotten. It sorta slipped away since he hadn't deemed it fit to be remembered. At first he had MANY fights with Shamura, then it ceased after a confrontation turned violent which left him with a bad scar.

He had to take care of his younger siblings whilst coming to terms with godhood - filling in whenever Shamura wasn't physically or mostly emotionally unavailable. For a long time he was the only one that could comfort his ailing siblings. Dealing with that sort of made him pretty easily agitated.

When Shamura proposed the plan, he had been hesitant - but ultimately didn't say anything.

Now he takes care of his siblings medically. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else and as much as he is quick to condemn and betray Shamura - he is also quick to condemn himself. Though maybe not as enthusiastically or openly.

He likes to compensate. Giving gifts to request forgiveness - grand displays of favoritism or mainly decking himself and his multiple spouses out with Jewels. He still keeps his wedding rings around his neck and his earring references his siblings.

Funnily enough, he caused the least troubles to the Lamb. They could argue he even seemed relieved after a short while of staying in the cult.

Extra: Added Jewelry and two tentacles because he looked naked without them.

Heket

Loudmouth frog that when found with her crown, she started trying to fight Shamura - insulting whatever parent they had. She kept threatening to poison them too.

In the lineup of her siblings, she was often the one who took the sidelines. If she was happy, she was left alone. If she was displeased, she'd let herself known. The most uncomplicated of the siblings.

You'd almost miss how every other bishop would seek her out when help was needed. While Shamura helped with godhood and Kallamar with emotional needs - Heket was a good person to pester with anything else. She'd handle it - just let big sis do it. Even if she was the second youngest - it's funny how even Kallamar and Narinder would occasionally use the nickname.

Then when everyone else was dealing with their wounds, she picked up the pace and kept their respective cults from falling apart. She handled Silk cradle until Shamura could - helped with Darkwood and took over Anchordeep when Kallamar was tending to the others. No problem.

She was still loud when entering the cult. Not as much as her brother - but she loved to cause scenes. Her muteness didn't seem to hinder her at all with that. She's not allowed near knives but somehow can handle axes?

Her temper problems don't get better. She just stops being an asshole about it.

She prefers having scarfs covering her neck bandages whilst they're all bloody and disgusting.

Extra: Nothing because Heket is already perfect.

Leshy

Literally a weird insect that kept clinging to the crown until it grew big enough to hold in one hand. It bit anything that got close and by the time Shamura found it - he had started eating small critters.

And god, he kept growing and growing until he wasn't a small worm in Shamura's hand but literally too big to fit through most doors. They suspected he'd grow until the end of time. Or well, now since his crown is gone.

He never listens. He screams for fun and overshares the worst details to the point he manages to break his siblings into just accepting anything he talks about. They can't even scold him or punish him since Leshy always finds a way to make things worse for anyone else but himself.

He also copies everyone. First it was Heket's tone. Then it was Narinder's behavior - now he started growing flowers and vine braids to make fun of Kallamar and his antlers were at first a crude mimic of Shamura's pedipalps and now they grow vines to be similar to the jewels hanging from them. He refuses to acknowledge doing so.

He's very clingy. After locking away Narinder, he stayed with Shamura every day until they were out of bed rest. He follows his siblings around and when he does give them a second to breathe - hes probably laying around in Darkwood instead of doing anything productive. He does tends to plants occasionally, but he prefers "to let chaos do its thing" - as if that means anything.

He makes for a great gardener after he stopped trying to break everything upon recruitment. And once he got over growling at every living thing - he actually became one of the most well liked people living there.

Leshy knows exactly what someone needs and somehow finds a way to achieve that with the littlest of efforts. It's the thought that counts.

Extra: Braid and vines because I thought Leshy would look cute with it.

Special: The 4 bishops all wear old faith themed robes, but Shamura got the elder clothes for comfort and Leshy kept tearing his clothes apart so he is not permanently excluded from having any special outfits as punishment. Narinder wears fancy robes (who happen to be loose and warm while being special - otherwise he'd complain)

The Lamb wears one of the leaked fleeces since I loved the red riding hood aesthetic.

In the end this turned more into biographies than actual explanations but its 3:30am, Im sleep deprived and I wanted to get my thoughts out because I start having memory problems again YIPPEE

[thewisecheerio]

Elden Ring and Disability

Elden Ring is filled with disabled characters. What I love about the specific way that Elden Ring uses disability, though, is that there is almost always a lore-compliant accommodation provided to the disabled character. This world filled with magic doesn't erase disability, but rather finds magical and lore-compliant ways of accommodating it, much like Star Trek:

Here is some of the disability representation within Elden Ring.

First Generation Albinaurics

First generation albinaurics are synthetic humanoids. Their legs do not function normally, so they are unable to locomote by walking. In the worst cases where no accommodations are provided, we see them crawling to move. But we get two really cool examples of ways to accommodate this disability:

First, we have Latenna the Albinauric. Normally when you summon her as a spirit ash, she functions as a static archer due to the state of her legs. However, if you summon her near a wolf, she will climb onto the wolf and ride it around to avoid enemy attacks and even gains a new attack (freezing mist) with the help of her ride. This puts the onus on you, the player, to make sure that you summon her under accommodating circumstances if you want her to be able to move. And of course, you could also choose not to, accepting her disabled self as-is as a perfectly great battle companion.

You can see a video of the wolf companion in action here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=st6vGIpsHLs

Second, we have Commander Gaius. Gaius is also a first generation albinauric with non-functional legs. But you'd almost never know without reading his lore or looking closely at his model, because is accommodated. He rides his Battle Tank Boar into your fight and has absolutely no problem wiping the floor with your sorry ass.

In both cases, a support animal functioning as a mobility aid allows the first generation albinaurics to locomote.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella

Malenia is missing some limbs due to the Scarlet Rot infection she was cursed with at birth rotting. She is also blind due to the sickness taking her sight. However, Malenia is still able to fight you (and win and win and win and win and...). There are two accommodations at play, the first of which is canon and the second of which is a canon-compliant fanon.

The first is the prosthetics made by the Shaded Castle. Malenia's iconic blade is physically attached to her arm prosthetic, allowing her to wield it in battle regardless of the lack of (natural) limb.

Fun fact: this is based on a real, historical practice with armor where old armor was recycled into prosthetics! There was even a mercenary famed for using a prosthetic limb to hold his sword after an accident that damaged his arm. You can learn more here (timestamp 16:58): https://youtu.be/PJwNjOvn-Ow?t=1018

The second accommodation that allows Malenia to be battle-functional is the water in her battleground. Because she is blind, she can listen for the player character's movement in the water, responding in a Daredevil-esque way. This is probably helped by the fact that her blade instructor--the blind swordsman named in the Blue Dancer Charm--was also blind and likely taught her how to accommodate that disability.

Millicent

Like her mother Malenia, Millicent is also afflicted by the Scarlet Rot. We find her alone and largely non-functional in the Church of the Plague at the beginning of her questline, writhing in pain. We then bring her the Unalloyed Needle, which keeps the Scarlet Rot at bay, relieving pain and allowing her to travel once more. Toward the end of her questline, Millicent removes the needle, which brings the Rot back in full force and ends her life.

In this way, the Unalloyed Needle functions as a treatment regimen for a chronic illness. It does not cure her, but it keeps the illness in check well enough for her to function.

The fact that Millicent chooses to remove the needle at the end of her quest is Important! Disabled people aren't under any obligation to "meet their potential" or continue treatment because it is convenient for others; if they wish to stop their treatment—even to accept palliative care—that is their right. Anything less disrespects their bodily autonomy and choice to make their own decisions. The fact that we get this representation in Millicent, who actively chooses against continuing her treatment after a certain point, is Good and Important.

And of course, we also provide Millicent with a prosthetic from the Shaded Castle, same as her mother. Once properly accommodated in this way, she can fight by your side as an NPC summon.

Messmer the Impaler

A lot of people speculate that Messmer is blind. This is because his left eye is (as far as we know) permanently shut, while his right eye appears to be a grace-filled synthetic seal rather than an eyeball. It's entirely possible that the grace seal does allow vision, but there are a couple of reasons to consider why it might not:

1) When we first arrive, Messmer is sitting in the dark. You could interpret this as being a Sad, Broody, Wet Blanket (which he is), or you could interpret this as evidence that things like light and dark are of less consequence to him than to a sighted person. Or, you know, both. A Sad, Broody, Blind, Wet Blanket.

2) Shortly after he lights candles--probably for your benefit--he sends one of his snakes into your face. He is able to tell from what the snake sees that you are Tarnished and comments on it. We can tell this means he can see what the snake sees, because he would have to figure this out from looking at your eyes and only the snake is close enough to do so.

This suggests that the snakes function as a remote viewing aid, providing a sight accommodation. And yes, again you could choose to interpret the snakes as existing in addition to a sighted right eye, but it is still interesting to consider what they mean if they are simply Support Noodles.

Ranni and Melina

There is a syndrome in our world called Locked-In Syndrome, in which paralysis prevents the entire body from moving with (usually) the sole exception of the eyes. As a consequence, the disabled person is unable to affect the physical world without help due to an inability to physically interact with the world around them.

Ranni and Melina have a similar situation going on, but with different ways of dealing with it. They are both disembodied spirits, having lost their physical bodies.

Ranni chooses to deal with the problem by incarnating herself into a doll's body at least twice: once as the doll's body we spend most of her quest interacting with, and later as a tiny actual-doll-sized doll that the player can interact with. Essentially, she has given herself a prosthetic that allows her to interact with the physical world once more.

Meanwhile, Melina goes a different route. Rather than incarnate physically, Melina requests that the player character help her reach her goal--the foot of the Erdtree, and then the Forge. In this case, we provide the physical support necessary for Melina to interact with the world, much as support workers do for those unable to care for themselves.

Goldmask

Goldmask never speaks to us in words. Rather, he communicates largely via physical movements. Brother Corhyn, a pupil of Goldmask, refers to his master's communication as "the movement of his finger". When Goldmask stops his movements, Corhyn reacts with distress, "I'm a little shaken since the master ceased his movements." He then proceeds to translate what the movements meant up to that point for us.

The fact that Corhyn is distressed at the master's lack of further communication after his movements cease suggests that this is his *only* mode of communication with him.

This is entirely a canon-compliant headcanon, but I like to believe that this means Goldmask uses sign language that Corhyn is learning to interpret in order to communicate with him. Additionally, the fact that we cannot necessarily interpret it ourselves and must rely on Corhyn to translate means that Corhyn is also acting as a support worker by being Goldmask's translator.

And yes, I think this is largely to poke fun at the Gesture system in the game, but it's also fun disability representation!

This list isn't exhaustive. There are yet other characters that either are disabled or could be easily argued to be so, like Roderika (grief and/or PTSD, given a space to heal and process), Rennala (depression and/or grief, NOT accommodated AFAICT), and Hyetta (blind, accommodated with...uh..."treatments"). But the fact that this post is already over 1400 words and has yet to touch upon all of the disability representation in the game just shows you how much there is.

[weaselmcdiesel]

ok so it's not a comic hope thats ok with you but instead it's karkat n nepeta but designed by someone whos madly in love with them both

some more au explanations + transcript beneath the cut

they're maybe around 30-40 yo? This was mostly just an exercise to give both of them adult designs. uh. i'm only calling it an au because I made bs some explanations behind their designs while i was drawing them. so uh, in this universe, sburb never happens + things that happened because of sburb don't happen either, but the alternian society is relatively unchanged. i dont actually know.. what.. karkat does.. like i cant figure out why he wouldnt be culled but it doesnt really matter i just wanted to draw him looking cool! (i am. open to hear about speculation if you have any). also i figured that Kanaya would go to the brooding caverns after her lusus dies, bc the wiki said her lusus would die regardless of the game taking place n whatever, and probaly do something with the matriorb there idk. thats all tho! ill prolly draw them more and maybe develop more lore as i do ^^;

--

Transcript!

i don’t know what their dynamic is in the canon of this au… but that won’t stop me from making them kiss :]

The Vigilant adult karkat on alternia

new highly developed shoosing skill

honestly has a calmer demeanor because he’s learned what’s worth exploding about… though he probably developped a crazy resting bitch face

pleased (arrow to karkat with a neutral face)

The sash doubles as a sling for when he visits Kanaya in the brooding caverns. He’s also very tranquil around grubs because they don’t cause unmanageable problems. He’ll get mad if someone else bothers one

(yes i’m obsessed with dilfkat that’s why i drew this)

The Predator adult nepeta on alternia

Taller than karkat <3

still a silly goober, but better at getting what she wants

she probably got her title from a history of single-handedly slaying fearsome lusii. she likely takes assassination type of jobs because of her stealth. one of the more easy-going trolls from the group

--

also! fun fact. i was having trouble designing kk's outfit so i looked in an old antiques catalog book from the internet archive to get inspiration from objects that had the same colors as those that i wanted to use in his design? not sure why i did that. just had a hunch that it would be fun. so this is the object i found that strangely enough inspired kk's fit

haha.. and i also found one for nepeta, though it was easier to design her fit and i didnt actually need a reference object

the book was "Antique Trader antiques & collectibles 2009 price guide"

[midnight-in-town]

Ao no Exorcist is a Shonen series written by a woman and it shows

Since the latest chapter, I've been thinking about how several usual Shonen tropes are written rather differently under Kato-sensei's pen. No judgement or anything, it's just cool to observe. Some examples :

1) Rin's mentor is a woman

2) Rin's secret, despite being the MC, was revealed in ch13 to the entire cast, meanwhile Shiemi, The Main Girl, who was introduced to be so helpless is only starting to be explained.

3) Also, the Mysterious plot-relevant Shonen Parent is actually the twins' mother. (Of course Shiro is super plot-relevant too, but Satan is still angsting over Yuri and she's a huge part of the reason why he's the big bad)

4) Rin also changed his view about his future throughout the story: from dropping out of school, passing by hoping to become the Order's Paladin (probably to cope with Shiro's death and also to antagonize Arthur), to finally showing way more interest and potential in the (less epic and heroic in appearance) field of talismanic cooking.

5) When it comes to arcs, mental illness is a valid reason to build a character arc around...

6) And so is making an arc about girls being "cursed" to basically "get married and have children before they hit 30, the age where their beauty fade thus they become useless" :

7) ANE is a story about women becoming traitors to protect their loved ones, like Mamushi

or becoming overwhelmed because men toyed with their feelings like Tamamo

8) Older women can be absolute badasses like Shiemi's grandma

or Lucy.

9) Complicated mother-daughter relationship and girl friendships are given as much focus as complicated father-son relationships and sweet bro friendships (like Bon and his dad during the Kyoto arc, as well as the complicated but deep bond between the Kyoto Trio)

10) And one of my favorites: full time single dad, asking for help to do the job as well as he can and finding his true purpose in life by doing so :D

Hmm and now that I think about it, the only other Shonen series written by a woman I've been as invested in is Kuroshitsuji, by Yana Toboso, and similar examples can be found in it too, namely:

1) If Ciel ever finally admits needing a mentor, his aunt Frances will probably play that role

2) Girls can be super strong & skilled (Elizabeth, Mey Rin) and clever (Sieglinde)

3) (one part of) the Big Bad is a woman (Queen Victoria)

4) maybe Ciel's entire revenge stems from a conflict between Queen Victoria and Ciel's maternal grandmother, Claudia.

5) the Undertaker has been a continuously freaking pain in the ass because he probably fell in love with that same maternal grandmother and couldn't mourn properly

TL;DR we love our boys and their spectacular growth and development under women's pens a.k.a shonen series written by ladies are hella fun to read. :D

[corvidae-00]

Joost Klein x drunk!reader in the club🎉🎉🥳 (but she’s like messy drunk and probably needs to be cut off)

A/n: MY FIRST REQUEST 😭😭 THANK YOU ANON! I had tons of fun writing this for you! I hope you like it 😭

CW: weed, drinking, throwing up, swearing, clubbing, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS ANYTHING!!!!!

Word count: 1,297

Getting drunk was something that wasn't the norm for you, not that you didn't drink but you always were lenient at getting DRUNK. But it was a good night, Your boyfriend and his group had just finished a concert that went super well and with adrenaline and energy still high everyone decided the night club was a good location to let loose and enjoy the rest of the night while its young. You of course decided to let loose a little- just a little tonight seeing as your boyfriend Joost was so ecstatic and you had so much energy from being in the crowd who was loud and very very expressive tonight. The club was surprisingly packed and that just added to the excitement even more. “We are going to have a good night, yes?’ your boyfriend whispered into your ear leaning down and kissing your cheek with a smile “of course” you reach back to run your fingers through his hair that was still damp from the many water bottles he had poured over himself to cool down. He shudders and sighs into your ear before standing up and stretching a little looking over at his friends and back over at you sliding you his card from his wallet “Get yourself something to drink- i might lay off the alcohol tonight-” he thinks to himself deciding a few cigarettes and maybe a joint or two sounded a lot better than getting drunk and dealing with a hangover ontop of exhaustion the next morning “then come meet us over there-” he points over at a little less crowded part of the club “maybe me and you can test the dance floor” Joost winks leaning down to kiss both your cheeks which you accepted before catching his lips in a quick kiss “Ill be over in a second” You hummed “Save me a seat-” you requested stepping back towards the crowded bar. Joost smirks and pats his thigh with a wink “you always have one if you ask” He purrs and you can feel your face flush before waving him off “go sit down” You chuckle before turning on your heel going towards the bar ignoring the cat call your boyfriend sends your way but you cant ignore the small smile and a laugh making its way up your throat.

You dont actually know what happened. One drink turned into two before you could stop and then three- you knew you were supposed to go back to meet up with Joost and your friend but the drink you randomly picked out was just- so good- and before you could even step away you had finished the glass and got another. Clearly the alcohol in the drink was a lot stronger than what you were used too as you began to get fuzzy and eager for the next drink- the bartender not realizing how quickly your tolerance was dwindling- and you were also admittedly not aware of how quickly your once steady standing turned unsteady and how quickly vomiting sounded pretty nice, on your 8th glass you ended up leaning on the counter to support yourself drunkenly singing along to the fast paced dutch song blasting out of the stereos at the head of the club- the people around you joining in on your own little concert you didn't even realize was pretty loud. Ordering another drink unable to even lift your arm without feeling tingly or nauseous you felt a hand grab your shoulder “I have a boyfriend you fuck-” You whip your head around and look at the chest that greets you “Ugh men-” You slur and look up at concerned blue eyes “ shit schat- your fucking hammered” Joost mutters smelling the sweet alcoholic drink on your breath “How much did you have?” he questions a little worried as you blink and then giggle a little “You are so hot-” you mutter falling into his arms a little “how did i bag a beauty like youuuu~” you giggle running your fingers over his shoulders and Joost wraps his arms around your waist to support your unsteady weight “so warm” You flutter your eyelashes at him closing your eyes and humming in content “You are drunk” Joost hums smiling down at you a little “How did you get so drunk- i leave you alone for a few minutes” He raises a brow not an ounce of anger or disappointment in his voice- if anything he is amused- you dont ever get drunk so what was different today? Joost reaches behind you grabbing your half drank beverage and taking a swig surprised at the intensity of the Alcohol count “Holy shit-” He blinks and looks down at you “i didnt know you were that hardcore” He laughs dodging your hands which are now trying to touch his face in sheer admiration “it’s nuuthing” you giggle out running your fingers through his hair “mmsoft” you chuckle letting Joost gently pull you away from the bar after confirming with the tender the bill was payed not worried about the expenses. Joost tugs you along letting you drag your feet every now and again not too worried about how heavy you were as you werent heavy at all to him, just a cute bundle of drunken mumblings and yelling at women who even look at Joost- threatening to fight them outside even if you couldnt stand by yourself- your threats or reasonings for being mad not even making sense and thus causing your blonde boyfriend to sheepishly wave and look down at you with slight amusement. Once outside Joost lets you get some fresh air, the club too stuffy and heavy to even think straight let alone feel better after getting hammered. “I dont feel good” you finally slur out hanging your head in defeat “i dont doubt it mijn liefje” he whispers to you rubbing your back before quickly pulling your hair up letting you throw up the insane amount of alcohol in your body. Joost winces and rubs your back with his free hand. You blink slowly once you are able to stand up straight, “Ugh” you groan out holding your head and Joost takes out some napkins he had in his back pocket to wipe your mouth and shake his head “we should get you back to the apartment” Joost offers and you pout “But the night is still younggg” you whine and joost takes your arm wrapping it over his shoulders careful to lean down so he doesnt hurt or stretch your arm out “theres always another night” He hums to you and starts leading you away towards your shared home careful and slow listening to your slurred complaints and compliments mixed in always something about how wonderful his hair looks or how special he is to her.

When they get home Joost is quick to lay you down in the bed and get your shoes off and changing your flimsy drunk figure into a pair of soft pajamas. He kisses your cheek and laughs softly “you are so cute” He admits standing up straight “No you are” You retaliate looking up at him and giggling. Joost quickly leaves the room and comes back with a glass of cold water and sets it down on the night stand before climbing into bed with you discarding his shirt and scooping you towards him. “Feeling any better?” he questions running his fingers through your hair “jus a lil” you mumble snuggling yourself into him the room spinning slightly “Thats okay, ill take care of you tomorrow” Joost hums leaning over and turning the lamp off “Just take it easy” He kisses your forehead “and next time there is alcohol im monitoring you” He jokes laughing at your groans of disagreement

Dutch meaning: schat- babe. Mijn liefje- my darling

A/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST JOOST FIC!!! Keep the requests coming!!! I love writing for this man

[thus-spoke-lo]

pairing: silco x gn!reader. platonic reader & jinx heavily featured. cw: angsty. mildly sexually suggestive. wc: 560 a/n: just a little warm-up to get a feel for things.

Jinx loved you once (you think). Wrapping her arms around your neck, her limbs growing lankier every day it seemed, sighing into your shoulder at some childish inconvenience before grabbing your hands in hers and dragging you to her room to show you something new and fun and dangerous. You were a novelty, a brand new toy fresh out of the box, a doll for her to play with and then toss on the floor when she was bored and restless. But she chose you, often, and her attachment to you became currency, buying you even more favor with Silco than you earned all on your own.

You thought (smugly, stupidly) perhaps one day you’d be his undoing—be the liability he often said you were, muttered as a playful reprimand when he’d pull you into him, bare limbs tangled under silken sheets, hair matted against sweat-dappled skin. You’d kiss his clavicle, run your fingers over his sternum, grin as you’d retort something about always wanting to ruin a man in power and bring him to his knees. And to his knees he’d fall, his breath still ragged and strength waning, and he’d pull you to the edge of the bed and trail his long, slender fingers up your thighs, teasing you with warm breath and a warmer tongue. Perhaps you would be his downfall after all, you’d think as he muttered words of adoration against your skin.

But that would never be.

You weren’t sure when it was that it dawned on Jinx that you didn’t belong to her, exactly—that your presence in her life wasn’t even really about her all. Prying eyes and pricked-up ears and a deep well of sadness in her soul led her to put the pieces together—you weren’t just Silco’s nice friend who came to visit sometimes, not her precious plaything that suddenly took up residence one day. No, no, you were something else—you and the way you’d fall into his lap like it was home, the way your fingertips would so delicately trace his scars, the way his expression would soften when he’d lay eyes on you.

You.

You.

You were danger. You would take, you would ruin, you would build a wall between her and safety and security and love and keep it all for yourself.

And suddenly the warmth in Silco’s touch cooled. He called for you less, found himself away on business more. His words were the same but hollow, dredged of all meaning and left as husks. You still lingered there, even after your things were moved back to your apartment one day without so much as a word—you still draped yourself over him like an ill-fitting coat, trying to extract whatever drops of affection you could, living off the momentary glimmers of melancholy you’d glimpse behind his eyes when he’d glance at you sometimes. He cared for you still, you could feel it, but it was all just out of reach, placed behind glass too thick to break.

Those moments of connection sustained you still, gave you enough to keep you just on the edge of sane, your legs dangling over the precipice as you chided yourself, day after day, for your utter hubris. There was only one who would ever be his undoing, and you were a fool to think it would ever be you.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn II

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: Being sick is never fun

With Mommy now playing for West Ham, it means you get to hang out with Harper.

Harper's not as rough as you and Mommy always has to remind you not to be so rough with your playing in case you both get hurt. Harper doesn't seem to mind though because she always gives you a little kiss hello and goodbye at the end of the day.

Harper's mommy Mini tries to stop her a few days ago because she caught an illness from kindie but she wasn't quick enough.

"No," Your Mommy says firmly when you lean in to kiss Harper's cheek too," Harper's sick remember?"

You grumble a little bit but don't argue, content with just being allowed to hold Harper's hand in yours as you all troop out to the cars. You wave goodbye to her as Mommy bundles you into your car seat.

Mom is already at home when you get there and you try to run off to greet her but Mommy snags you by the back of your shirt.

"Remember," She says," Slow and careful."

You huff but nod, moving slowly like you're a T-Rex stalking its prey.

Mom smiles at you. "Come on, Chook," She cajoles," You can move faster than that."

You snap into action faster than Mommy can stop you and you crash into her.

Mom laughs and lifts you up.

You whine a little wiggling away and she frowns.

She lifts up your shirt and sighs. "Did you fall again today, Chook?"

"Was playing with Harper!" You reply," Was only a little fall!"

"Well, that's not a little bruise. Kristie! Can you chuck me the bruise cream? Chook's got herself hurt again!"

"Doesn't hurt," You deny. You try to squirm away but Mom lathers cream all down your side. You stop fighting a little quicker than usual though because out of nowhere your head starts aching.

Mom adjusts her positioning so her knee is properly stretched out as Mommy comes to sit down on your other side, letting you sip from her drink.

You grow bored of hanging out with your moms though and squirm out of your seat to go and find Helen and your dinosaurs.

Your head starts pounding on and off for the rest of the day and you push your food around your plate even if it's one of your favourites.

Mommy tries to change you into your Spinosaurus onesie but it's much too hot for you and you keep pulling the zip down no matter how many times Mommy pulls it back up again.

In the end, Mom makes Mommy change you into pyjamas that you only really wear when it's stupidly hot but they're still dinosaur themed so you like them.

"Stop touching it," Mommy says sternly when she notices you poking your bruise.

You don't understand why she gets so annoyed. Bruises are super cool and this one has gone a really dark purple colour. Mommy gets worried when bruises are like that so you stop poking and prodding at it even though Mom's laughing at it all.

Your nose feels kind of runny and you swipe at it before Mommy can see.

Mommy worries a lot. She worries even more now that Mom hurt her knee so you go to bed without telling her about your achy head, your runny nose and your scratchy throat.

Tomorrow's her day off anyway so it's meant to be the day that Mommy can relax.

That's why when you wake up the day after feeling so much worse than before, you don't tell anyone.

You sit in your play corner where you can keep an eye on Mom and play with your dinosaurs. Helen mews softly as she approaches, headbutting you in the arm before sitting down next to you.

You tickle her behind the ears but your arm feels a bit heavy and you drop it to the ground. Your other arm feels heavy so you stop playing with it too.

In the end, you just sit facing the wall, staring at your dinosaurs and making up a story in your head.

Sam narrows her eyes as she watches you, staring. You don't move for a long while and if it wasn't for the small rise and a fall of your shoulders, she'd have thought that you'd fallen asleep then and there.

You're being a little strange today. You hadn't woken up early like you usually did on days off. You hadn't come running in demanding someone play with you outside or squirmed away when Kristie inspected your bruise at breakfast.

It was out of character for you and Sam can do nothing but stare as Kristie blows out her nose next to her. She must have caught something off Mini at practice.

Sam knew Harper had been ill recently and it all begins to make sense.

Everything happens at once. Your bad behaviour suddenly has an explanation just as you convulse suddenly in your play corner.

Helen meows loudly, jumping up and running away as the sound of something wet hits the carpet.

You burst into tears.

Sam stands up too quickly and falls back onto the sofa as her knee radiates pain in protest.

Kristie surges up too, perhaps too fast as well because her head throbs but she's really the only uninjured person in the house.

You've thrown up all over the carpet and your favourite dinosaurs. It runs down your chin and you sob.

"Oh, Chook," Sam says, stubbornly getting up again and reaching for her crutches," It's okay. Don't cry."

Kristie makes quick work of taking your top off and then your bottoms even though her own medicine hasn't kicked in yet and her head still aches like hell. You've clearly gotten the worst version of this sickness.

You just sob harder, blabbing and gagging when you realise that you've got the same taste of sick in your mouth. "No, no," You say when Mommy begins to walk you into the bathroom, "Mom-Mom...Her knee hurts."

"I think you're the priority here, Chook," Mommy says but you shake your head as she pops you into the bath and turns on the taps," Mom's a big girl. She can take care of her own knee right now."

"No...No! You help Mom's knee! I'm not sick! Was an accident!"

Mommy just hums as she gently washes your face with a flannel.

Mom pops her head in through the door.

"I've got medicine for her and her Stegosaurus towel."

Mommy takes it. "Go and sit down, Sam," She orders," Take some painkillers and ice your knee."

"I'll clean up the sick first."

"I'll do it," Mommy insists. She plucks you out of the bath and puts your towel over your head. It's a bit like your onesie where it's got a hood that makes you actually look like a stegosaurus. You really love it but today you couldn't care less.

Mommy flips the hood up and you gag again.

You're moved quickly over the toilet and you throw up inside of it.

Tears prick in your eyes when you notice Mom still standing there. She goes to reach for you, to bend her knee but Mommy blocks her way.

"Go, Sam," She says," Go to bed and ice your knee. You're not any use to me right now. I'll send Chook to you once she's ready." She takes the medicine from Mom's hand and all but pushes her out the door.

"Sorry, Mommy," You say through your tears," Didn't mean to."

Mommy softens considerably from when she was dealing with Mom and she rubs your back as you weakly gag over the toilet bowl and nothing but bile comes up.

"Don't say sorry, Chook," She says to you," This isn't your fault. It's just bad timing is all, no one's angry."

"You were angry at Mom," You say, crying much harder than before," 'S your day off. You have to look after Mom. Sorry I made it harder."

Kristie's own nose is blocked and stuffy and her head pounds in agony (although she knows the medicine should start kicking in soon) but she still draws you in for a hug as you sob on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Chook," She coos even as you apologise over and over again," It's all okay. You're being brave. You're so good. You're such a good girl."

"I'm sorry!"

"Hey," Mommy says as she pulls away, gently wiping away your tears," You have nothing to be sorry about." She spoons the medicine Mom brought into your mouth. "Why don't you head on to bed with Mom? I'll be there in a little while."

You sniffle. "I can clean."

"No, Chook. You're very sick, like Harper was. And Harper's mommies didn't make her clean up, did they?"

You shake your head.

"Then you don't have to clean up either. Go on, go to bed with Mom."

You shuffle into Mom and Mommy's bedroom. Mom's got the tv on and a bag of ice pressed against her knee.

"Hey, Chook," She says when you come in, leaning down to lift you up.

"Sorry that you hurt your knee more, Mom," You whisper, knocking your head against her collarbone. You stay slumped on top of her as she gently works her fingers through the knots in your hair.

"It wasn't your fault. Accidents happen. I'm sorry you're feeling so sick."

Sam reaches to the side and drapes your favourite blanket over you. It's got little images of Mosarsaurus and Baryonyx on it and you go limp when she tucks it around you.

"Hey," Kristie says softly from the doorway.

"Hey..."

"I'm sorry," She continues," For yelling at you like that, in the bathroom. It was all..."

"Overwhelming, yeah, I know." Sam keeps gently stroking your hair as you sleepily puff out air against her collarbone. "I want to be more help, Kristie, I do-"

"Your knee won't let you, Sam. Don't beat yourself up about it. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. We're all trying our best here."

"But you're sick too. It's not fair that you have to take care of all of us."

"I'm barely sick. It's just a headache and a runny nose. I'll survive. What we need to work on is getting Chook to tell us when she's feeling sick, okay? We were caught off guard today. It won't happen again."

"Mommy," You say softly," My tummy hurts again."

Kristie sighs though she's smiling when she does it and lifts you easily into her arms. She doesn't get very far though when you're tummy has had enough and you throw up all over Sam's chest and your front.

She sighs. "If you get me a bin bag to cover my knee with, I'll hop in the bath with her."

"I'll get the Pterodactyl towel out of the dryer."

"It's a Pteranodon," You sniffle," Not a Pterodactyl."

Mom strips out of her shirt and takes you from Mommy.

"Sorry, Chook. Pteranodon, then."

[dr-spectre]

Guess who turned 7 years old?

SPLATOON 2!!!!! Everyone's favourite Splatoon game!!!! Right? Right guys....? We love Splatoon 2 yeah....? It's the best one right.....? Totally not gonna become the middle child of the series that gets overshadowed by the new fresh Splatoon 3 and the nostalgia of the first game right.....?

Okay, jokes aside about if Splatoon 2 is actually good or not. This was the game that actually got me into Splatoon, I knew about the series since it's announcement but I couldn't play the first game because like the rest of general public, I didn't own a wii u. Still don't but I would love to have one to mod. (And play Splatoon 1 online with fan servers...)

I think Splatoon 2 really did bring a lot of cool stuff to the table and it had a lot of quality of life features and interesting weapon, sub and special concepts.

It gave us the dualies!! THE DUALIES! I LOVE THE DUALIES!

It gave us the brellas! Which.... were kinda bad at launch and still are bad till this day....

BUT! I dont wanna talk about weapons because thats BORING! I wanna talk about one of the best things Splatoon 2 gave us...

OFF THE HOOK! PEARL AND MARINA! These girls are some of the most popular characters in the series and for good reason. They are both funny, likeable, charming, witty and have developed backstories by the time Octo Expansion comes around. Plus their chemistry is top-notch and so damn CUTE! It's almost has if they are somehow more than friends and that kind of connection is canon and people who try to deny it are fucking idiots and will never be in a relationship of their own.....

Also Splatoon 2 gave us a pretty solid hero mode at launch, sure it was basically more Splatoon 1 hero mode but hey, the first hero mode was fun so more of the same is fine by me. Plus you get Marie's classic snark too while you go through levels, she's nice company surprisingly. Way better than some old ass crusty dude...

It also gave us....

totally didn't fuck up my mental health this year and last year and caused me chest pain and discomfort until I had to dig and dig AND DIG for knowledge just to salvage it and make sure my favourite character in the fucking series was given the respect she deserves....

....hypno/octo Callie.... totally didn't fuck up this villain arc for her huh Nintendo? Totally didn't throw away the depth you built up (and was shown in concept art) only to try and hastily fix it 2 years later with an obscure relationship chart no one fucking talks about, not even the timeline explainers...

totally didn't use the wrong terminology to describe her situation and made everything so much worse because you wanted a simple black and white story for the kiddies yeah Nintendo? Despite you making stuff grey in the dlc expansion so the both story modes now clash like oil and water theme wise.

And yet you still treat her like dirt. Still using the wrong poorly localised words. If I still gotta repeat to the sky one more time that callie was under hypnosis and not forceful brainwashing I might have a stroke. You can't even fucking brainwash someone with hypnosis because the limitation of hypnosis is that the person under it must be fully comfortable with the suggestion and the suggestion cannot go agaisnt their morals and ideology. AND GUESS WHAT BRAINWASHING IS! FORCING DIFFERENT IDEOLOGIES INTO SOMEONE'S HEAD! DO YOU GET WHY I HAVE AN ISSUE NOW?!?!?! JUST USE THE WORD HYPNOTISED NINTENDO! THATS ALL YOU GOTTA DO!! ILL BE SOOO HAPPY!!!

YOU TOO INKIPEDIA! I CAUGHT YOU USING THE WORD TOO MULTIPLE TIMES! you better change it... just change brainwashed to hypnotised and I would literally kiss you on the lips or something idk... I love you inkipedia but that's all you gotta change okay? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

ENOUGH OF THAT! I WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE!!!

Do you know what else Splatoon 2 gave us?

OCTO EXPANSION BABY! I know people love to call this overrated now but I really don't care. It's not overrated, it's perfectly rated. It also gave us PLAYABLE OCTOLINGS! Which was a highly requested thing people really really wanted and they gave us what we asked for! Even though they lacked a lot of customisation options.... still do till this day... (Nintendo is it really that hard to come up with new hair? The community has been doing that for years for you man.)

And of course... the last thing I want to talk about...

This is probably my favourite Splatfest to date. It brought in a lot of actual genuine philosophical discussion on what kind of world is best, a world of chaos? Or a world of order? I chose team chaos because when the youtuber/streamer Etika was still around he chose team chaos and I chose that team because of him... rest in peace...

The shifty station too was phenomenonal as you got to hear Fly Octo Fly and Pearl would come in AND YOU GOT TO USE HER PRINCESS CANON!!!! IT WAS SO FUCKING COOL AHHHH!!!

God Pearl is so cool... i can't believe I actually used to dislike her. I wanna beat up teen me so badly for having such bad takes. Marina is hot sure, but, Pearl is just so fucking funny. Man what was wrong with 13 to 17 year old me....

Anyways, I wanted to ramble about Splatoon 2. It's pretty special to me as it was the reason I am here today, so I can't really criticise it as much as others do. Well... aside from one obvious thing but, I've done that many times.

Also, before I go... NINTENDO!!! BRING BACK SHIFTY STATIONS FOR SPLATOON 4!!! DO IT!!! STOP BEING COWARDS!!!!

[pottersmiracle]

Did you draw me?

Sean Diaz x Fem! Reader

warnings: fluff-daniel annoying sean but reader finding it cute-estaban being a stereotypical dad-flustered sean-sean calls reader amor (love)-use of y/n-i think thats it

summary: its a normal Saturday afternoon at your boyfriends house, you would go over there most weekends and his family loved you. This time while your hanging out with his brother and dad you catch him drawing you.

a/n: finally writing for the loml - sean listens to the smiths fight me on that - not proofread don’t kill me

Masterlist

“Come on! I wanna show you what i made!” Daniel pulled your hand to drag you to his room and your boyfriend sitting next to you rolled his eyes, “dude leave her alone! She doesn’t want to see your project.” You gently smacked his arm, “yes i do actually.” And you followed Daniel to his room.

Seans dad laughed at him, “you’re lucky she puts up with you.” Sean shook his head and mumbled, “it’s shocking isnt it.” Sean got off the stool he was sitting on and went to the couch as he dad laughed again, he laid on it with his sketchbook in hand.

After a few minutes you and Daniel came out of his room and back to where Sean and his dad still were, “have fun?” His dad asked. “Yeah! Y/n thought it was cool.” Daniel said excitedly as he say on one of the stools. I nodded in response. His dad laughed, “thats good.”

You listened and watched Daniel and Esteban joke around about his school and other things for about 10 minutes before you decided to check on your boyfriend. You walked around the couch so you were behind him, you were gonna scare him but then you looked closer at his sketchbook. You watched him add more details and you smiled when you notcied it was a drawing of you, Daniel, and Esteban but the main focus of the drawing was you, you had the most details.

“Did you draw me?” You asked him making him jump and sit up, “w-what? What are you talking about?” He asked, a blush spreading on his cheeks. You smiled wider, “let me see your sketchbook.” He closed it quickly and held it to his chest, “no.” You both didnt notice Esteban laughing and watching you guys.

“Please?” You practically begged him with the sweetest voice you could give him. He didnt budge though as much as he wanted to, but you eventually grabbed it from him and he jumped off the couch to chase you, you ran into the the kitchen and stood behind Esteban and he helped hold back sean as you flipped through the pages to find the drawing.

“Hey! Dad- let me go! Give it back!” Sean struggled in his dads arms and Daniel laughed watching the chaos. Sean saw as you flipped to the page and he groaned and stopped struggling, his dad stepped closer to you so he could see it too.

“Aww Sean.” You said looking at the drawing. He didnt respond, he just hung his head in embarrassment. “Aww.” His dad teased him poking Sean in the sides. You leaned against the counter and flipped through other pages of his sketchbook, that wasnt the only drawing he’s done of you.

“Alright kids its time for me to get back to it. You know where ill be if you need me.” Esteban said squeezing you and seans shoulder softly and ruffling daniels hair as he walked past him on the way to the garage. “I have to finish my project in my room any way.” Daniel said running to his room.

“Oh don’t hurry back!” Sean said to daniel and walked towards you. You closed the book and looked at him, he was closer to you now and you couldnt help but recognize how tall he was compared to you.

“They’re amazing Sean.” You said softly and wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him. He hugged you back, “thank you amor.” When you pulled away he kissed you softly, lifting your chin up towards him.

“Make sure you guys are keeping it pg in here yeah? You are in a public slace.” You heard from his dad making you both pull away, “dad..” Sean groaned shaking his head as you both looked towards the garage and saw esteban walking towards the counter and picking up a tool, “forgot this. Have fun you two,” he joked, “but not too much! Don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.” He winked at the both of you making Sean groan and you laugh.

He walked back down to the garage and you heard the door shut and Sean sighed, “my room?” “Sure.” You said still laughing. He grabbed his sketchbook off the counter and took your hand with his empty hand and you both walked to his room.

You two ended up taking an amazing nap together.

[beautyyandthebeatt]

pls its so rare to see good loona wlw smut😭😭can i pretty please request anything w mean dom gp heejin?? i bet she'd be huge🫣

Forgive me for my absence and awful response time, I had to drop most things as I was experiencing the beginning - and later diagnosis of an incurable illness lmao 😭 Hope you like this, though ! (if you see this)

dom!heejin, dubcon, brief degradation, overstim (not in the fun way 😕)

Heejin and you had become housemates at the beginning of the year. Though it had felt like a millennium to you, she had - and continues to annoy you to no end. She was always loud, so incredibly loud; by the way she blared her music whenever she decided that her room had fallen too quiet; the way she shouted over her mic to her equally as loud friends while she played video games until late at night; the way she’ll bring any girl she was able to wrangle into bed that night back to your very un-soundproof apartment- wrecking the poor soul right against her paper-thin walls, forcing you out to stay with a friend. She was insufferable, you thought, no redeeming qualities besides that pretty face. Though, you’d never admit that part out loud.

Despite your very apparent sourness towards her, she had always had a sort of affinity towards you. Bent over the couch, her hands placed by your shoulders, craning her neck down to see what you were reading(despite having no real interest in books); offering her sweater to you if she had noticed you become cold; always wanting to sit with you and making attempts at conversation around the house. It was almost puppy-like, which you found odd in contrast to the sleaziness of her other behaviours. —

It was morning and you had awoken to soft drops of rain lapping at your window. The pittering followed you into the kitchen after you heard the girl Heejin had last night exit her room and leave out of the front door. You heard Heejin enter behind you. “That’s your latest girl gone, then?” you mutter your attention fixed on the coffee you were beginning to prepare. She presses herself up against your back “Yeah, she just left.. why? You jealous?” you could hear her smile. “Oh, please” you scoff, you see your eyes narrowing in the reflection of the glass kettle, as does she. Her arms snake around your waist. “I’m glad it finally dawned on you.” that smile comes to nest near your neck, you can see her clouded in the seething water of the kettle. You go to turn yourself and storm away from her only to find her unmoving, caging you between hip and arms. “You’ve got to lose that attitude, y/n.” her free hand grips your jaw, short nails searing marks into your cheeks. “Heejin-” her grip tightens, eliciting a whine from you. Shame burns across your cheeks, your face hot under her grasp. “Quiet.”

You wanted to push her away - you could’ve - but you didn’t. Despite your better judgement you stilled - wilfully laid limp for her. Her grip shifts to your hips, turning you back around and bending you over the counter, forcing your head down onto its surface, the coolness of the laminate blooming across your burning cheek. Being in such a position makes you unable to turn around to see her hitch your skirt, lazily throwing the garment over your waist before taking to your panties. Her index and middle fingers slip underneath the fabric and her thigh keeps your legs pried open. She pushes her fingers inside musing cruelly at the slick that coats her fingers, mocking you for how ‘pliable’ you’re being for her.

Your voice catches in your throat as you feel the blunt head of her cock force itself into the place her fingers had just left. Your fists clench, crescent moons burn into the palms of your hands, trying desperately in some way to ease the pain from being split open by her. Feeling the tip of her cock finally fit inside she wastes no time ramming the rest of her length into you, paying no mind to the pained whines and moans that quickly follow. Cruel remarks soon devolve into pleasured sighs that slip from fully parted lips. It’s not as though you could understand another word of what she spat at you, you can't make sense of words anymore, too lost in the ragged drag of her cock. Heejin’s thrusts become more desperate, her grip tightens and roams to get a better hold of you. Her fingers pass through your lips - ring and middle forced down your throat, craning your head back to an almost 90 degree angle, making the tendons of your neck burn. More tears stain your already drool slick face. You sputter around her, drooling pathetically between choked moans as you feel her teeth graze your nape, “hm ? You like that ?” Heat twists in your core.  “Fucking whore.” Her hips stutter, rutting her growingly sensitive cock up against your cervix. You feel her tense inside of you, panting and groaning as she unloads every drop of frustration she held towards you deep into your cunt, pleased at finally, in her mind, winning you over. You quickly follow suit, dragged to climax, almost too numb to even tell.

You couldn't recall much of what happened after besides hearing her fixing her jeans back up around her waist before leaving you there, clinging to the counter-top, knees buckled, her cum spilling from your ruined cunt.