#and it was messing me up proportionally

[baby-prophet]

some anatomy sketches from class

[rafes-honey]

Thinking of… ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Swan!reader x rafe when their daughter was first brought into the world.

He used to be so tough. Now he was a sucker for a two-month-old girl who couldn’t even hold her own head up.

Rafe Cameron, the boy who once sneered at softness, now sat cross legged on the nursery rug, holding a puffy little bear onesie in one hand, a pink bunny suit in the other, brow furrowed like this was life or death.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, looking up at you with all the seriousness of a man going to war. “She needs to wear the bear one. Look at the ears.”

The ears, you echoed silently, watching him. Your impossibly beautiful, feral, once cold hearted boyfriend now down on the floor in sweatpants, his hair a mess, whispering baby talk to a tiny human swaddled in blankets like a burrito.

“Rafe,” you said gently, hiding your laugh behind a silk robe. “She just spit up on herself. Again. You’ve already changed her three times today.”

“She’s gotta stay cute, though,” he insisted, glancing down at the sleepy baby cradled in his arms like she was made of glass. “C’mon, mama. Don’t tell me you’re not obsessed with those chunky little arms.”

He leaned down, kissing her face over and over, his voice dropping into that ridiculous high pitched cooing tone he only used when it was just the three of you.

“You’re daddy’s little loaf of bread, huh?” Kiss. “Little fluffy biscuit.” Kiss. “With your soft little belly roll right here yeah, that one.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “You’re not even proportionate yet. You got no neck and too much thigh. What even are you?”

You giggled, sitting beside him, watching as he zipped her into the bear suit with reverence, making sure her little mittens were on, her hat snug, her feet warm.

She blinked sleepily, smacked her lips, and sneezed one of those tiny newborn sneezes that made Rafe gasp like she’d just recited Shakespeare.

“She’s perfect,” he said with awe. “Like… elegant. Like you.”

You blushed, smoothing your fingers through his messy hair. “She’s got your eyes.”

“And your nose. Which is why she’s gonna be a heartbreaker,” he muttered, resting his cheek on her tiny tummy. “I’m not gonna survive this, Swan. I used to scare people. Now I cry if she makes that little ehhnk sound in her sleep.”

You curled into his side, the three of you tangled up on the floor of the nursery, warm and safe and quiet.

And in that moment, Rafe Cameron once hard, sharp-edged, full of hate was just a boy, in love with his baby girl, dressed in a bear suit too fluffy for her own good.

[senseiofbullshit]

Did someone ask for nasty Jean Kirstein headcannons? No? Okay. Well here you go anyway.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, fem reader, not spell checked because I'm lazy

You’re usually ‘babe’ or ‘queen’ when he’s messing around, but when he wants something or y’all are intimate, you’re ‘baby’.

“Baby.” “Jean, don’t start with me right now.” “Whaaat? I didn’t even say anything!”

Beautiful happy trail that grows in evenly. 

He tries to keep himself pretty well groomed and trimmed.

He likes hair on his partner. He doesn't mind if it's bald, but something about you being in your natural state makes his mouth water. If you're very bushy, he'll pretend to get a weed whacker/hedge trimmer. Or pretend he's using a machete to cut through the jungle. Or put his face right in it and ask how you think he'd look with a beard. He will make Tarzan noises. He will rain dance. “In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps toniiiiight!” It will still get ate though.

When he was younger and immature, he had the 'I don't like hair in my food' phase, but as he became a man, he got into his 'girl, I'm a grown man and I don't care about hair' phase.

Jean is a grower and a shower. His friends call him horse face but that’s not all that’s like a horse (ahaha). He’s very tall and his cock is proportionate to his size. He tucks it down a leg. You see him on soft and you’re like ‘that’s not that bad’ and then he gets hard and you quickly change your tune to ‘where is that going’? In you, duh. What makes him daunting is that he’s long and wide. He’s got girth on his side. He always warms you up. It’s why he isn’t very partial to quickies. He's scared of hurting you and he knows he requires prep to take. He’s a quick learner so pleasing you and learning what you like comes pretty quickly to him. 

He’s also done some “research” on how to please women. Whatever he doesn’t know from experience, he’s “researched”. 

Taps it on your tongue and on your pussy before sliding home

He can be pretty kinky, but he prefers the basics. He doesn’t get tired of missionary or any of its variations. There’s just something so intimate, so right about being tender and passionate with you.

He considers sex quality time so it doesn’t really matter how he has you, as long as he has you. He prefers to see your face and give a lethal dose of eye contact while he’s in it. He wants you to look into his eyes while he makes you cum. 

Loves when you sit on his face while he touches himself. He won’t let himself cum until you do. He still wants to cum together even when he’s not inside you. Kinda romantic ain’t it?

Presses his hand down on your abdomen when you're close. Really pushes that crazy button. 

He will fuck you deep and slow and maintain eye contact the entire time. 

If you’re in a close missionary position, wind your hand through his locks and give it a nice pull. He’ll moannnn for you. 

He's not afraid to moan or whine.

His absolute favorite thing is when you’re in missionary and he’s hovering so close that your noses are swiping against each other with every thrust, he's propped up on one elbow with your fingers intertwined. He knows you’re about to cum so he presses a hand on your abdomen and is chanting and whining for you to cum for him.

“Yeah, baby? You gonna cum for me? Yeah? I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum for me, baby. You look so beautiful when you cum. I love you. Cum for me, baby. S’good when you cum for me.”

“Cum, baby. Cum. I know you want to cum all over me. Mhm. Mhm. That's it.”

Congrats on the baby lol

If it’s been a while, he’ll be a two pump chump. Sorry to break the news. He’ll slide in and then groan and tell you not to move before he’s pulling back out. He’ll go down on you in the meantime. 

“Fuck, baby. You already have me about to cum,” he’ll say with a chuckle as he pulls out and kisses his way down south.

Eats pussy like he’s making love to you with his mouth. Eats pussy like it’s his job. Eats pussy like it's the last time. Y’all remember that one video of the donut eating contest and the dude was passionately eating his donut? That was Jean. He was having flashbacks. Here to see what I'm talking about.

Jean shudders during that first lick and moans the entire time. He does that thing where his eyes roll back and flutter closed before you looks up at you through a half lidded gaze while moaning.

My neck, My Back by Khia was written about him

“Thank you for the meal!” And pretends to have a fork and knife in has hands.

After he’s done, pretends he’s dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Compliments to the chef.”

“10 out of 10. No notes.”

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. He starts tweaking and crashing out if it's been too long. 

“Baby, I’m losing hearing in my right eye. Queen, please.”

“Let me just get a little taste before you go to work. What? Just a taste. Only a taste, I promise. I promise you won’t be late for work. It’ll be quick.” 

Don’t fall for it because he’s 100% lying and you will be late for work.

“You would deny a starving man? You’re so cruel.”

“Oh, your ear hurts? I think sitting on my face would fix that. What? What do you mean it won’t? Try it and see.”

“I think you riding me right now would solve 95% of the world’s problems.”

"This is it. This is the end. I can see the light. Goodbye cruel world.” As he dramatically falls on the ground pretending he’s dead.

He could be on his deathbed and he'd ask you to put it in his face lol

[technicallyfriendly]

I feel like due to his mother dying to protect him, Ichigo developed a trauma that keeps him from depending on people in fear that they'll die too.

In the winter war arc, especially in the beginning, he keeps telling everyone to stand back and let him handle it while he is really going through it with losing control of his own powers. It's pretty unreasonable, but he would rather die himself than ever let anyone else die for him.

Him continually reaching out to Kisuke to ask for help when he can't do something himself is huge in Ichigo's book.

His unwillingness to trust others to have his back and not get hurt rises proportionally to how overwhelmed he himself feels. In the very beginning, he was quite comfortable to trust Chad to have his back fighting gang members and high-school punks even in Soul Society Ichigo had some degree of trust that Chad could make it by himself despite feeling a little worried.

But then he sees his friend struggle once, and Chad immediately gets reclassified, especially since Ichigo himself feels out of his depth, and Chad ends up in the class of the people to be protected before they sacrifice themselves for Ichigo. Only Ichigo is allowed to do that.

This is also why he never goes to his father with that mess. He does not see Isshin as someone who has a fighting chance. He only goes to adults he believes can A) look out for themselves and B) have proven trustworthy in the past (and that only leaves Kisuke).

It kinda bites him later after he loses his powers because his friends also develop this kind of trauma because of him. He keeps sacrificing himself and almost dying in front of them, so now that he is weak, they have to keep him away from even the possibility of him attempting that while powerless and they pull an Ichigo which just makes everyone even more unhappy.

It makes me tingly about how little everyone in bleach respects other peoples' agency and all because one too many people died/almost died/came back wrong protecting them.

[annegamesandyarns]

Unexpected Hobbies

König is known to be fearsome, labelled as a human battering ram by his colleagues. Hostages wouldn't even go near him. Whether it's due to his size or the disfiguring scars that he carried, if they saw them at all due to the mask he wore, it was hard to say because no one would specify. But König seems to brush it off every time he's sent in to extract hostages. Just as he seems to be indifferent to the fact the other operatives in KorTac didn't invite him to hang out during off time. To everyone, for all they knew, König's idea of downtime was 'interrogating' prisoners.

I was new at KorTac, not as a mercenary...excuse me...'private security personnel'...pfft, just a fancy name in my opinion. But as a front desk receptionist. With my recent move four months ago, I didn't know very many people. So, I listened to office gossip to get a feel for my coworkers, and quickly noticed a pattern. Almost everyone were friends with each other to some extent, with a few outliers. Though, the one that stood out the most was the one everyone called König.

For the others that preferred to keep to themselves, it made sense. It was just a job to them and nothing more. They clock in, do their work, and clock out without socializing too much with others, and were relatively friendly. But no one interacted with König, unless they absolutely had to.

"Oh, honey. You are barking up the wrong tree. No matter how enticing it might be to climb." Liza chuckled next to me as she sat down. It was early in the morning, and she was bright-eyed and bushy tailed. She caught me staring at him, and not for the first time, either.

I gave her a wry look. "It's not like that," I yawned before taking a drink of my coffee. I glanced at König again before getting back to work.

"Oh? Then tell me, what is it like, hm?" She teased. "You're telling me you don't imagine if...other...things are proportionate to his size? Or what he might be like with all his attention on you?"

I sputtered and choked on my coffee at how suggestive she was being. "Clearly, you do all of that and then some." I gave Liza an incredulous look. I knew she said what was on her mind, but clearly she needed to get new filters with a mind like that. "No, I don't wonder...any of that." I cleaned up the mess with napkins I pulled from my drawer, and threw the coffee soaked tissue at her as she laughed. "Just feels like I know him from somewhere, is all. I'd feel pretty stupid if I went up to him and mistook him for someone else."

"Ok, but how many people do you know that are that tall? Hm?" She asked before answering the phone.

I rolled my eyes. I could see her point. But I only told her that to get her off my back. If you wanted rumors started, you take them to Liza, and it will spread like wildfire. I didn't need any rumors starting here about me. And I certainly didn't want anyone thinking I was starting any.

The rest of the morning had been uneventful, and I took an early lunch. I was standing in line at a restaurant to pick up my order when some masked men came in with guns drawn. "Everyone, get down on the ground! Now! Do as we say, and no one gets hurt!" One of them shouted as they pointed their weapons at the customers.

My eyes went wide as my heart began to race. I ducked behind the counter, pulling out my cellphone when a sound had me freezing mid-text. "All cellphones, jewelry and any other valuables will be given to this," a voice called out and paused for a dramatic effect, as if they had to think about their next words. "Lovely volunteer. Starting with yours."

I fumbled with the bag as I put my phone in it, my hands were shaking from nerves and didn't want to cooperate. My stomach twisted with fear. *Just do as they say, you can throw up later.* I repeated this like a mantra. I focused on keeping my breathing even, and getting through this. Pushing out all other sounds, I did as ordered when they dragged me around. "Sir, get down on the ground, don't make us repeat ourselves!" One of the masked robbers shouted. I looked at who they were yelling at. I stumbled over my feet and immediately started to laugh. It wasn't expected, and I certainly didn't mean to. I quickly tried to stifle my laughter when I felt the barrel get shoved into my ribs. But I was relieved to see König sitting there eating his lunch, unbothered by what was going on. His mask was partially over his nose, revealing some of the scar tissue on his face.

When the man threw König's food to the ground, König stood up slowly and towered over everyone. "You have thirty seconds to let my associate go, and leave." His German accent sounded terrifying with his soft, raspy voice. He slowly tilted his head to either side, and I could hear his vertebrae in his neck and upper back pop and realign as he rolled his shoulders at the same time. This was why people avoided him at work. The man was a walking nightmare. I was glad he was on my side.

I barely remember much of anything, it happened so fast. One minute, I am a potential hostage, and the next König is handing me my phone back. "Th-Thank you..." I felt oddly calm, despite my slight stutter. Maybe I was in shock.

"Go back to work, Kleiner Häse. I will take care of this here. Don't forget to stop by the medic when you get there. I will be checking in to see if you did. It's not a request." I almost thought he was talking to someone else. I nodded as Horangi joined me. With what just happened, I didn't even see that he was there, too.

Horangi drove me back to the KorTac building, and guided me to the floor where the medics worked. Once they made sure I wasn't in shock, I went back to work at the front desk. I barely recall getting through the rest of my workday. Liza tried to talk to me, ask me questions, anything to find out what happened. But I wasn't going to tell her. I didn't need her teasing, or her jokes. I didn't need her running off and making a mountain out of nothing.

Over the next few days, I was nervous and a bit jumpy. Never have I ever been in a situation like that. It didn't help that everyone at work noticed. Something falls, I jump. A loud noise is made, I'm looking to see what it is immediately. To those that knew, I clearly wasn't coping well with the incident at the restaurant.

Friday rolled around, and Liza had been giving my pitying looks all day. I guess she found out what happened. Because, for the first time, she was a bit hesitant before asking me, "Uh... me and some of the others are going out for a drink... do you want to go with us?" Her smile was reluctant to follow her words.

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I'd rather not." My own smile was apologetic. But I had no interest in a pity invite. It only made me angry, but she didn't deserve me lashing out at her for trying to be nice. When she left, I could tell she was grateful that I turned her down. Apparently, it hadn't been her idea to invite me.

As I gathered my things and clocked out, I heard König's unmistakable voice, "Come with me." It wasn't a question, or a suggestion, it was closer to a command. I looked at him like I forgot what a thought or a brain cell was for a moment.

"Do I-"

"Nein. You have your things. Good, let's go." He steered me towards his car out in the parking lot, and opened the passenger door. I gave him a baffled look, but got in and buckled up. Even though, this felt akin to a kidnapping.

I was quiet at first as he got behind the wheel and drove off. "I feel like I should be alarmed right now, no offense intended. Where are we going?" I asked after he pulled onto the highway, my question was met with silence. I glanced over at him after a few minutes and I realized, he's uncomfortable. Studying him for a bit, I could see his discomfort grow in the way his hands tensed on the steering wheel. *Oh, my gods... he's shy... he's shy and out of his comfort zone...* the thought hit me like I just drove a sports car at full speed into a brick wall.

I looked back at the road as he drove. I absorbed this information and contemplated what to say next. Or if I should say anything at all. Before I could say anything, though, he pulled up in front of a brick building in the downtown area. The sign on the window said "Coffee and Colors" with a coffee mug of rainbow colors in it next to the fancy painted lettering. I followed his lead and got out of the car, I silently followed him inside once he grabbed a pack out of his trunk.

My jaw dropped. "You take a watercolor class?" I asked him incredulously. We were in the back of an art supply store. I never would have guessed this giant would do something so...perceived as feminine. But that must be why no one knew about this. "I'm sorry...that was rude of me. I didn't know this place existed." I quickly added when I looked up at him as we took our seats.

"It's not quite a class...more of a group of artists who hang out in the quiet." König said thoughtfully. "Sometimes all we do is focus on art, other times it's like a regular coffee house. Speaking of," he quickly stood up and grabbed a couple of coffees for us before pulling out two sets of everything out of his pack. This was the most relaxed I had ever seen him, despite his nervous fidgeting. "I saw you've been struggling since the attempted robbery...." His voice trailed off as he shrugged at his attempt to explain. "Do you know how to do this? I could show you how, if you like." He sounded almost nervous.

"Thank you, I appreciate this. Much better than a pity bar or club invite." I spoke with an encouraging smile. "Honestly, I prefer quiet activities like this." I watched as he set everything up for us, in an attempt to keep busy. "I don't, but I would like to learn." I could see the relief in his posture, even if he thought he could hide it. I took a drink of my coffee as he showed me what he knew of water colors.

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound Masterpost

Vox, the noisy video box

So Vox may not be my favorite character, but he is probably my favorite redesign. I laugh every time I look at him now. He looks like a weird mix of Spongebob, Kraang(TMNT), and Mr. Electric(Sharkboy and Lavagirl). He absolutely hates it.

Notes under the cut

There's too many twinks in this show. So when I was trying to decide which characters I could change, for body diversity, Vox was an obvious one. He needed more bulk so his body could conceivably support the old TV models. Those things could get heavy. The change also had the side effect of making him shorter, which just worked better proportionately.

I liked the idea that Vox could never get rid of his original bulky 50s TV, but also wanted him to be able to upgrade. So I decided his true body is the 50s TV, and he adds an upgraded monitor for a head as technology improves. He's hates that he's stuck as an old fashioned TV, so he hides that under his suit. Since the monitor is just an addition, it can be swapped out easily. It can be damaged and he's technically unharmed. But he can't see through his suit without the monitor, unless he wants to use a security camera and direct himself 3rd person style.

I didn't like that basically everyone has sharp teeth. It reduces the impact for characters like Alastor or Rosie. So I've been having the default be just sharp canines. But with Vox being a TV, there are so many possibilities. I gave Vox "regular" teeth, which helps him look more trustworthy. It fits the corrupt businessman vibe. But the appearance can change with his mood too.

Color TV became available in the 50s, so Vox always had color vision. But I think it'd be funny if, early on, he had a tendency to glitch out by going into black and white vision when he gets worked up. He's mostly grown out of that glitch, but he can't seem to shake the static or TV color bars, and developed new ones as he integrated computer and internet tech into himself as well. Now he gets the Blue Screen of Death, system errors, and city wide power surges.

Messing around with his face is so fun. When he's bored or tired a Voxtech logo will bounce around like the DVD logo, or display a screensaver. His face can get too big for the screen when he's excited, or be small when he's feeling embarrassed. I need to put a troll face on him at some point. It may be an old meme, but man, it feels right.

His left eye turns red when it's hypnotic, to reference those blue and red 3D glasses.

Of the three Vees, he is absolutely the most powerful. Val and Vel are the content creators, but Vox is the platform. The other two, while still powerful in their own right, would never have gotten to the level they're at if it weren't for Vox. He controls the mainstream media.

--TV set--

So we've got some interesting implications with how he functions. He's a TV, but he blue screens like a computer, and he shorts out the power grid. I think it's safe to say he is more than just a TV, he's a multimedia entertainment center. That, and TVs are starting to really blend with computers these days. He's mainstream media.

At some point, I realized that a TV set was a "set" because it wasn't just a single device. A television set was a collection of components, which boils down to a radio hooked up and synchronized to a visual display. I bring this up mostly because I am a sucker for one-sided radiostatic. It's so funny to me. Vox is obsessed.

But I'm going to refrain from too much theorizing about their relationship. Alastor is absolutely not interested in romance. Nor a QPR. He's not even interested in friendship. Alastor is too invested in power dynamics to really consider anyone a friend. Mimzy is probably the closest he has to a friend, and even that has manipulative elements on both sides. But I'm supposed to be talking about Vox!

--Human Vox!--

He is not tall, haha. But his proportions are a bit taller than his demon form. I wanted to go for square glasses, but I didn't see many examples of that in the 50s photos I found. Oh well! My goal was a sleazy business man. He probably had a variety of jobs, but they primarily involved TV. Commercials, PR, interviews, news, game shows, talk shows, screenwriting, etc. Whatever he could do to get more influence. He found himself favoring the business end of things. Making deals and pulling strings. He decided what would go on the air. He's one of those network executive types.

I see lots of people give him heterochromia, but I don't really see a point to that. He hypnotizes people with his left eye, sure, but it's not a different color. It's not disfigured in any way either. Maybe he just had a tendency to wink at people, I dunno.

I think his death involved some sort of severe skull fracture focused around his left eye. Maybe a car accident, maybe he was shot, idk. Maybe seizures were involved. But he was somewhere in his mid 40s to early 50s. I ended up writing 45, but I'm not super committed to that or anything.

For a human name, I see lots of people calling him Vincent and that's sorta grown on me. So I might go with "Vincent Cox".

And because I fell into another research rabbit hole...

--TV evolution--

(below) 50s-60s CRT TV: TV sets were treated as furniture and there could be some very interesting cabinet designs. Color TV was introduced in the 50s, but wasn't quite profitable until the late 60s.

(below) 70s-80s CRT TV: Color TV became more affordable and commonplace.

(below) 90s CRT TV

(below) 2000s CRT to Plasma and LCD TVs: The three display technologies competed, but LCD won out in the end. Plasma and early LCD didn't look substantially different. Plasma was a little bulkier, but was still slimmer than CRT.

2010s and on: LCD improved with LED backlighting. But then OLED removed the need for backlighting entirely, which mixed the benefits of plasma and LCD. (Didn't bother to find a picture example. It's so close to modern at this point)

--Display technology-- (These overviews are very simplified)

CRT(Cathode Ray Tube)--Used through the 1900s to approx 2010. Monochromatic until Color TV developed aroung the 1950s. Worked via vacuum tubes and electron gun that lit up the pixels. They were bulky, heavy, and used a whole lot of power. Widely considered obsolete and no longer made. Video games made while these were in use tend to look better in CRT, since the graphics accounted for the image quality.

Flat screens-

PDP (Plasma Display Panel): Used from early 2000s to approx 2015. Used gas cells that light up pixels when electrically charged. Good image quality and good contrast, but expensive, heavy, and used a lot of power. Considered obsolete and no longer made, despite still having a desirable image quality.

Plasma and LCD competed in the 2000s to early 2010s as CRT popularity waned. LCD eventually won out due to weight and overall cost(including market price and energy efficiency).

LCD (Liquid Crystal Display): Introduced for TV around the same time as Plasma. Works via a liquid crystal layer with a backlight. Slim, decent image quality, energy efficient. Viewing angle matters because image colors are warped at wide angles. Cheaper than plasma. There are two main backlighting types:

--CCFL(Cold Cathode Fluorescent Light): Used fluorescent lighting for the backlight. Image quality was decent, but didn't have good contrast. (the blacks were never truly dark because of the backlight)

--LED(Light Emitting Diode): An LCD that uses LEDs instead of CCFL for the backlighting. Better contrast and efficiency than using CCFL.

OLED(Organic LED): Mixes strengths of plasma and LCD. Self emitting LEDs. No backlight or LCD panel needed, which improves contrast(about as good as plasma was, which is why plasma is basically obsolete now).

--QD-OLED(Quantum Dot- OLED) Adds a layer of Quantum dots to an OLED to improve color gamut. I think. I can't let myself fall too far into this rabbit hole, so I'm not double checking anymore.

((Feb 12, 2025-updated tags)

[chaotic-scraps]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Beast (Part 4)

The soft hum of cooling fans and the clacking of keys were the only sound in the small and dimly lit room. A CCTV feed trained on a small kennel displayed on a screen in the far corner. The villain glanced over at the first sign of movement.

Their patient was waking up, but they would have to wait. The villain was on the verge of a discovery.

Their patient's blood had been genetically modified. Expertly, gorgeously. Though the effects seemed to be leveling out over time, their muscular growth was abnormally rapid. Any small injuries showed accelerated healing.

The growth affected their larynx, unfortunately. Given the patient was able to preserve a certain level of cognition, other organs adjusted appropriately...

Loss of speech was a... Strange side effect.

The bones and muscles were proportionately mutated, practically symmetrical. Organs matched the rapid growth of the body. Their patient grew into a theoretically sustainable form. The fact that they survived at all was a miracle.

Their patient might not be so lucky if they attempt to revert back.

Whoever was responsible did not stop at one. The mutation was much too precise and refined. This was a team and decades of research. Money.

So, who had the resources for this kind of human experimentation?

The MRI offered something of a clue. A small device, implanted at the base of the patient's skull. Whoever set this transformation into motion expected the patient to roam free. The villain extracted the device too late, well over 24 hours. It was active.

Someone would come to collect their experiment soon.

The villain best prepare for their guest.

-

The hero paced the kennel with growing panic. They had misjudged the villain's capacity for harm, clearly. They kept running their hands along the stitches on the back of their head.

Breath in. Breath out.

They needed a plan of escape.

The floor and walls were solid concrete. Thick iron bars reenforced the door. There was a small gap between the door and floor. A much larger gap between the iron bars and the ceiling. Not large enough to squeeze through.

The first rule of imprisonment, find your captor's motive. Their eyes flicked to the CCTV trained on their kennel. There wasn't enough room to escape, but their inhumanly long claws could reach the camera.

They smiled devilishly. If their captor wanted to spy, they'd have to work for it. They climbed up the iron bars and reached for the small camera. Their claws clamped around the device, and they yanked.

Wiring crackled as the connections snapped.

They threw the camera on the concrete as hard as they could. Surprisingly sturdy.

Good.

They grabbed the camera and beat it against the ground, over and over, until it cracked into was a mess of circuitry and plastic. They imagined the villain's skull.

Shouting down the hall, followed by a loud THUD.

Silence.

The hero readied themselves to lunge, but they stopped short.

Their breath caught at the unexpected figure before them.

"Hero, it's me. I've come to save you."

The hero sobbed in relief.

Superhero.

AN// Thank you so much for reading and asking to be tagged @sausages-things @whump-till-ya-jump @jumpywhumpywriter @galaxysmask !!!

[arminreindl]

Pachycetinae: The Thick Whales

Oh look I'm way behind not only on my work with wikipedia but also in regards to summarizing it on tumblr. Good thing, three of the pages I've worked on these past few months can just be summed up in one post because they are all one family.

So Pachycetinae, at the most basic level, are basilosaurid archaeocetes, the group that famously includes Basilosaurus and Dorudon. Reason I've picked up the articles in addition to my usual croc work, basically a friend and I noticed how lacklustre many pages are and stupidly decided to start revising all of Cetacea (pray for me).

Currently theres two genera within the group. Pachycetus aka Platyosphys aka Basilotritus, which is a whole mess I will get into at the end for those interested, and Antaecetus, which I'll just call "the good one" for now. Among those are three species. Pachycetus paulsonii (or Basilotritus uheni) from continental Europe (Germany and Ukraine mostly), Pachycetus wardii (Eastern United Staates) and Antaecetus aithai (Morocco and Egypt)

Picture: Pachycetus and Antaecetus by Connor Ashbridge

So the hallmark of Pachycetines, as the name would suggest, is the fact that their skeletons are notably denser than that of other basilosaurids. The vertebrae, the most abundant material of these whales, are described as pachyostatic and osteosclerotic. The former effecitvely means that the dense cortical bone forms thickened layers, while the latter means that the cortical bone, already forming thickened layers, is furthermore denser than in other basilosaurids with less porosities. The densitiy is increased further by how the ribs attack to the vertebrae not through sinovial articulation but through cartilage, so adding even more weight to them. Overall this is at times compared to manatees, famous for their dense skeletons.

Pictured below, the currently best preserved pachycetine fossil, an individual of the genus Antaecetus from Morocco.

Now there are some interesting anatomical features to mention that either differ between species or just can't be compared. For example the American species of Pachycetus, P. wardii, shows a well developed innominate bone, basically the fused pelvic bones. This is curious as one would think of it as a more basal feature, with derived whales gradually reducing them. The skull is best preserved in Antaecetus and has a very narrow snout. One way to differentiate the two is by the teeth. Pachycetus has larger, more robust teeth while that of Antaecetus are way more gracile and is thought to have had a proportionally smaller skull (in addition to being smaller than Pachycetus in general).

All of this has some interesting implications for their ecology. For instance, why the hell are they so dense? Well its possible that they were shallow water animals using their weight as ballast, staying close to the ocean floor. This would definitely find some support in the types of environments they show up in, which tend to be shallow coastal waters. There are some Ukrainian localities that suggest deeper waters, but that has been interpreted as being the result of migration taking them out of their prefered habitat.

Now while pachycetines were probably powerful swimmers, their dense bones mean that they were pretty slow regardless. And to add insult to injury, they were anything but maneuverable. Remember those long transverse processes? Turns out having them extend over the majority of the vertebral body means theres very little space for muscles in between, which limits sideways movements.

From this one can guess that they weren't pursuit predators and needed to ambush their prey. What exactly that was has been inferred based on tooth wear. Basically, the teeth of Pachycetus show a lot of abrasion and wear, not dissimlar to what is seen in modern orcas that feed on sharks and rays. And low and behold, sharks are really common in the same strata that Pachycetus shows up in. Now since Antaecetus had way more gracile teeth, its thought that it probably fed on less well protected animals like squids and fish.

Below: Pachycetus/Basilotritus catching a fish by @knuppitalism-with-ue

The relationship between pachycetines and other basilosaurids is wonky, again no thanks due to Pachycetus itself being very poorly known. Some studies have suggested that they were a very early branching off-shoot, in part due to their prominent hip bones, but in the most recent study to include them, the description of Tutcetus, they surprisingly came out as not just the most derived basilosaurids but as the immediate sister group to Neoceti, which includes all modern whales. Regardless, in both instances they seem to clade closely with Supayacetus, a small basilosaurid from Peru.

And now for the part that is the most tedious. Taxonomy and history.

Remains of pachycetines have been known for a while and were first described as early as 1873 by Russian scientists. To put into perspective how old that is. The material's history in science predates both World Wars, the collapse of the Russian Empire and even the reign of Tsar Nicholas II. Now initially the idea was to name the animal Zeuglodon rossicum, but the person doing the actual describing changed that to Zeuglodon paulsonii reasoning that it would eventually be found outside of Russia (something that aged beautifully given that Ukraine would eventually become independent).

And this is where the confusion starts to unfold. Because at the same time people unearthed pachycetine fossils in Germany too, which would come be given the name Pachycetus (thick whale) and be established as two species. Pachycetus robustus and Pachycetus humilis, both thought to be baleen whales.

Pictured below: Pierre-Joseph van Beneden who coined Pachycetus and Johann Friedrich Brandt who described Zeuglodon paulsonii. Beneden easily has the better beard.

These latter two names however were later rejected in 1935 by Kuhn and lumped into other species, whereas Zeuglodon paulsonii was elevated to a full on new genus by Remington Kellogg in 1936. For those curious, Platyosphys means "broad loin", in combination with the species "Paulson's broad loin" to the amusement of some friends of mine.

And then people stopped caring and we have a nearly 70 year research gap. Eventually Mark D. Uhen found fossil material in the United States, but interpreted those fossils as being part of the genus Eocetus, naming them Eocetus wardii, a move that many following researchers disagreed with.

Then in 2001 a new species of Platyosphys, P. einori, was named. It's bad, moving on. More importantly, we got the works of Gol'din and Zvonok, who attempted to bring some clarity into the whole thing. To do so they rejected the name Platyosphys on account of the holotype having been lost sometime in WW2 and picked out much better fossil material to coin the genus Basilotritus ("the third king" in allusion to Basilosaurus "king lizard" and Basiloterus "the other king", isn't etymology fun?). They erected the type species Basilotritus uheni and then proclaimed Eocetus wardii to also belong into this genus, making it Basilotritus wardii.

This move was however not followed by other researchers. Gingerich and Zhouri maintained that regardless of being lost, Platyosphys is still valid and can be sufficiently diagnosed by the original drawings from the 19th and early 20th century. And to take a step further they added a new species, Platyosphys aithai (weird, why does that name sound familiar).

Then Van Vliet came and connected all these dots I've set up so far, noting that the fossils of Platyosphys are nearly identical to those of Pachycetus. This lead to the fun little thing were "paulsonii", applied first to Zeuglodon in the 1870s, takes priority over "robustus", coined just a few years later, BUT, the genus name Pachycetus easily predates Platyosphys by a good 60 years. Subsequently, the two were combined. Platyosphys paulsonii and Pachycetus robustus became Pachycetus paulsonii (simplified*). Van Vliet then deemed humilis to be some other whale and carried over Basilotritus uheni, Basilotritus wardii and Platyosphys aithai into the genus Pachycetus. *Technically Pachycetus robustus was tentatively kept as distinct only because of how poorly preserved it was, making comparisson not really possible.

Then finally in the most recent paper explicitly dealing with this group, Gingerich and Zhouri came back, killed off P. robustus for good, sunk Pachycetus uheni into Pachycetus paulsonii for good measure and decided to elevate Pachycetus aithai to genus status after finding a much better second skeleton, coining Antaecetus (after the giant of Greek myth).

And that's were we are right now. Three species in two genera, but only one of them is actually any good. So perhaps at some point in the future we might see some further revisions on that whole mess and who knows, perhaps Basilotritus makes a glorious comeback.

To conclude, sorry about the lack of images, despite the ample history theres just not much good material aside from that one Antaecetus fossil and I didn't want to include 5 different drawings in lateral view. Obligatory Wikipedia links: Pachycetinae - Wikipedia Antaecetus - Wikipedia Pachycetus - Wikipedia

Ideally Supayacetus will be the next whale I tackle, distractions and other projects not withstanding (who knows maybe I'll finally finish Quinkana)

[bonefall]

Why exactly are you collecting a folder of Moonpaw incest comments and post? Is it just to have proof against ppl going " Well I'VE never seen it happen so- " or? You don't have to answer I'm just curious.

It's primarily because I don't like making claims I can't back up, even if I never have to cite them. "Shadowboxing," when you make up a guy to get mad at and then fight him, is something I actually try to avoid for my own mental health. If I'm angry, I want to be angry at things that I know to be real. If I say this fandom has a problem, I want to call out the fandom for problems I have evidence it has.

That is one other reason, though. "I've never seen it happen" is something easily fixed with a screenshot.

I also pull them out when I'm talking to friends or on a more personal basis, like in a discord or a groupchat, so that we can mock and comment on it. Makes me feel better.

Sometimes I also do that therapy technique where I show a screenshot to a friend who isn't involved in WC, and ask them, "IS this a messed up thing to say? AM I overreacting to this?" to try and make sure I remain grounded. I've had anger issues from a young age and one of the ways I've learned to manage that is by checking with others, to make sure that my response is proportionate.

TL;DR Several reasons.

[laudanine]

How to make a back-patch: Hancock edition

Hey guys! So the tutorial for the Hancock patch is here! So the standing rule on this patch is "you can use my art and make your own, but you are not permitted to make money off it." But man, make your own, go nuts!

Steps 1 to 5 are mostly about how I made the image itself. Steps 6 to 9 are about making a patch once you have your final image. Skip ahead if you need!

So here's the supplies I personally use for these patches -

Tulip fabric paint, black and white

Talc powder

Charcoal powder

Tracing paper

Paintbrush

Fine-tip squeeze bottles

Fabric

My computer

Tape

A thumbtack

A pencil

And to be clear, these are NOT the only options. I've done this with black or white acrylic paint instead of fabric paint, it works fine. If you don't want to bother with the squeeze bottles you can use a paintbrush instead. If you don't have talc powder, cornstarch would work. If you can't find powdered charcoal, you can crush some up like I did, or use graphite, or literally whatever. You get the idea.

If you're going to be using the fine-tip squeeze bottles, now is the time to put your paint (fabric or acrylic) into the bottles and thin them with water to your level of comfort. You WILL need to test the paint on some fabric first, to be sure you can apply it evenly and that it flows well. If you're going to use acrylics, I highly suggest you add a drop of retardant to the mix ALONG with water.

2. I find my images for the figure I'm drawing. Yes, we're tracing: this ain't fine art and we're not gonna be snobs. Here we have John Hancock from the game and John Hancock IRL Danny Shorago.

3. I trace my images! You may notice my two reference images are the same pose! I'm gonna trace the first one by taping my paper over my computer screen and drawing LIGHTLY.

When I had the basics for Danny's proportions down, I left the paper where it was and moved the image of Hancock underneath the paper and traced what I needed from that image. That gets me this double-layer image.

4. I decide which of these lines I want to keep. Even with the faces for John and Danny lined up proportionally the shoulders and neck length of the two figures are pretty different. I decided that I wanted to go with narrower shoulders, and free-handed in the ruffles for his shirt.

5. Now I merge the two faces. I have to get the skin texture from John onto the face I have, which is mostly Danny. I kept up a whole screen of reference images for this process so I could decide what I wanted to pull from where.

And I leaned hard into the skull for his cheekbones and nose. You can see I actually used a colored pencil to outline those skull-like elements before I chose my final lines, and used another piece of my own darn art to add a chin scar I just really like. It is NOT a bad idea to trace a SECOND COPY of this image AT THIS TIME. Your image will be getting really dirty and messed up in the future, so unless you want to start over, you should make a spare copy (spoiler: I didn't do that and had to do this whole thing a second time to make a second patch...)

6. Align your fabric and your tracing paper up and tape first the fabric down THEN the paper on top, separately.

7. Poke holes! Use your thumbtack to poke holes along the lines you're trying to transfer. The way I'm doing this patch most of the image is white lines on black fabric, with SOME black lines on white for his face, neck, and shirt. For that reason, my transfer process is gonna be in TWO parts, one to lay down the white portions and then later to put the black lines ON TOP of the white areas as needed. I don't have a photo for this step: poke holes, you know how to do that.

8. Apply talc/powder to the image and use a paintbrush to gently brush the talc over the surface. You can use the brush perpendicular to the surface to GENTLY push the powder into the holes from the thumbtack holes.

9. Peel off the paper GENTLY. As you can see, I didn't even poke holes for the lines in his face, just the outlines for what's going to be painted in white. What you have is a little connect-the-dots to apply white paint to.

10. Apply white paint and allow to DRY COMPLETELY.

11. Once the white paint it TOTALLY DRY you're going to repeat steps 7 to 9, poking holes in the locations that you want to have BLACK lines appear. For me that's the details on his face and shirt. Instead of talc, the powder I used was crushed vine charcoal. You can see I'm starting to apply the black paint along the lines of black spots of charcoal.

12. Add, like, words and stuff! Also clean up, and fine tune, etc. You did awesome, and if it didn't turn out, well you DEFINITELY made a spare copy like I suggested you do in step 5, right?!?! Right.

Some notes:

This process also works on tee shirts if you want, but definitely use the fabric paint and not acrylics or the paint will flake off when you wash the clothing. Instead of taping the shirt down, I suggest you thumbtack it to a board or to some thick cardboard to keep it still while you work.

If you don't have a computer/screen you can trace on then print the images you want to work with and tape them to a window to use as alight-box.

You don't need to use the charcoal, honestly. If the design is simple or you're feeling like a BAMF, you can skip the black paint and the black powder and just use the negative space of the black fabric instead.

Tracing, and I cannot say this clearly enough, is not cheating when you're not tracing someone else's art. Trace a face. Trace a figure. Trace a landscape. I don't care. If you're tracing any image, you're going to need to do a lot of work to make your shitty traced image (my step 3) into something that looks like art (my step 5). That act of work, that's making art. Congratulations.

If you made it this far and REALLY want to donate money to me over this, don't! Maybe donate to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund instead at pcrf.net because that'd be SUPER cool.

Hope some or all of this helped someone somewhere be a cool punk badass like everyone's favorite Mayor.

[smashy-headcanons]

Give me angsty headcanons for the original 12 fighters

Luigi was the first to notice Mario getting burnt out with Smash, mostly as a result of the repeated attacks from villains. It's why he's so grateful for Sora's arrival.

While Ness is sure to give regular phone calls and visits to his family during his time in Smash, he does feel conflicted about his jealousy towards Jeff regarding their fathers. While he knows things are more tense between Jeff and Dr. Andonuts, he can't help but feel jealous that Jeff can see him whenever.

Fox + Samus = "parents killed by eventual nemesis" squad

Jigglypuff struggles with proportionality, i.e. knowing when she's taking her mischief too far, and tries to make it right when she does mess up.

During the Smash 64 days, Link felt out of place on the roster, because he didn't feel "adult" enough to hang out with the adults, but he was also awkward hanging out with the handful of actual kids among the roster.

[whorediaries-09]

come on, violate me;

pairing- will graham x journalist!fem!reader warning(s)- violence, grotesque descriptions, blood. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- this will probably be a have a few follow up fics, but that depends on the response this fic gets. let's see :D

headlock;

"take my tongue and lead it southbound,"

rest assured, will graham's quaint fishing shed in the middle of nowhere in wolftrap, is unassuming. for the most part, anyways. anybody would've looked past it. wouldn't have have looked twice at it. but you weren't 'anybody'.

rightfully obnoxious and nosy. well-known journalist of the highest selling crime tabloid. and god forbid you'd let this sweet, sweet chance go. fbi special agent turned murderer; crawford's favourite agent, none the less- that would sell like hot cakes.

rummaging through your purse, you take out a bobby pin. the bite of the winter air sweeps across your face. picking the lock, you push open the door to his shed.

plastic curtains hanging everywhere. a strong smell hits your nostrils, decomposing, fishy, and fruity, all combined into a horrid scent. the kind which almost made you want to gag.

drawing the plastic curtains, you step further in. the sight makes your stomach drop. bones.

while you didn't know much about bones, not enough to tell the kind by just looking, it was clear the bones didn't belong to something or someone that existed in the present. something or someone that existed in the past. the arrangement wasn't proportionate. ribs too small to belong to the skull.

removing the cover of your camera lens, you angled it to take pictures of the bones hanging from the ceiling with the heavy metal chains. from every angle. titles for your upcoming articles already revolving in your head. heart fluttering with anticipation. adrenaline too high. after months of nobody believing your theories of will graham being a killer, here you were. solid evidence to prove your theory right.

then, you spot it. unassuming, a mockery of innocence, on the ground. a chest freezer. one would assume meant to kept fish or meat. anything which possessed flesh. which could rot.

the bobby pin slides into the lock of the freezer. picking it apart. you lift up the lid, with ease. it hits you. the stench, combined with the cold air. wrapped in little plastic bags. pieces of meat, at a first, fleeting glance.

your camera clicks again. pictures of the sliced, carved meat, clean from the bone to be published on your articles. you mess with the placement, curious. obnoxious.

the sight makes your blood run cold. your heart thump against your ribcage, begging to be let go. brain freeze for a moment. stomach lurching up. all the years you'd been journaling the worst and the worst of crimes, but you never had seen something like this.

you pick it up. it's the lower half of a jaw. a human jaw. teeth, tongue, and all included. it makes you want to gag. shakily, you close the lid of the freezer.

behind the plastic curtains, he stands. curls arranged neatly. a wool, gray coat over his figure, a black scarf tucked tightly into it, wrapped around his neck. hastily you, pull out the gun from your purse. he moves behind the plastic curtain, closing the door. blocking the exit. he never comes close to you. he keeps moving behind the curtains.

'there is a very good explanation for all of this,' he says. his voice his calm. never wavering. as if he's not afraid of what you've seen. as if it doesn't matter to him that you're pointing a gun at him.

'i don't want to hear,' you reply, hands shaky, voice breathy. unlike his. your fear is palpable, and so is his predatory stance and movements. he taunts you, moving around, behind those curtains. as if you're his prey. but you refuse to be.

'not just a little bit curious?' he asks. it's almost innocent. taunting. as if he's sorry for you. as if he pities you. for your curiosity. for which you're here, in this situation. at his mercy, even though you've got the pictures and the gun.

'get away from the door,' he obliges. he draws the curtains, standing in front of you. mocking you.

'can't let you go,' he says, using your name. tasting the word on his tongue, as if it belongs to him. 'until you've heard what i have to say,' he moves closer. your breathing gets shakier, your hands trembling in fright. there's not a flicker of emotion behind his eyes. cold, lifeless. cruel. you move backwards, your gun shaking pathetically in your hands.

'i know you're scared,' he inches closer. as if he's trying to soothe you. as if he's trying to soothe his prey before attacking. the meat would taste acidic. bitter, about being dead. you move backwards, keeping a safe distance from him. 'you only have to be scared a moment longer.' he promises. he hands out a gloved palm. his voice lowers. demanding. not soothing anymore. but a demand.

'give me the gun,'

your finger pull the trigger. he ducks, rolling over the chest freezer, hiding behind it. you take the chance, and not losing a breath, you run towards the door. but he's quicker. he gets up from behind the freezer, pinning your front to a shelf, banging your head against it. a crack echoes, your nose breaking in the process. blood, warm and thick trickles out into your mouth. your fingers shoot mindlessly, hopelessly, that one bullet would hit him.

he tries to grab your hand with the gun which you continue moving, trying to escape his grasp. your free hand slips into your pocket, pulling out a pepper spray. you spray it in his eyes, his grip loosening for a moment, and you escape from his grasp, walking towards the door, the exit from this hellhole. his hand lifts, and he grips your hair tightly, refusing to let go. a scream rips from your throat, as you try to move away, ripping strands and locks of your hair as you push open the shed door.

you run towards your car, with crawford on the line. waiting for him to pick up, you get in the car. you turn the keys around, but the stupid ignition won't start in the cold.

your window shatters. he's already there, baton in hand, shattering your window, arms underneath yours, pulling you out from the car. as one would do to a ragdoll, dragging you across the snow. your screams echo in the silence of the woods. falling into the ears of a man known for his empathy.

*-

when you wake up, your body's senseless, almost. you can't see. you can't hear. you can't taste. you can't smell. but you can feel. the coarse material of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. the rope around your neck, binding you tightly to whatever you'd been sat on. the cold metal ball of a gag inside your mouth. the silk of a blindfold on your eyes. the sensations of something hot and sticky flowing down your skin. the burn, the tear of your skin. the lack of clothes apart from your undergarments. the biting chill of the cold winter.

'i had to take away your clothes. too much dna. too much evidence. i don't care if you mind,'

in the silence, his voice echoes. a harsh rumble from his chest. you could imagine the stoicism on his face. even while he mocked you. perhaps, he was too far gone to take pleasure from this. from seeing you helpless. all those months of rapid tormenting theories that echoed into his brain.

'it's cruel,' he continues, moving behind you. 'i didn't want to humiliate like this,' his hands make quick work of the gag around your mouth, pulling it out. he unties your blindfold. you blink rapidly, adjusting to the sudden capability to see. you're stuck right there, in his shed. the bones hanging in the air, a cruel mockery of your curiosity. his hands fall on your shoulders. fingers digging into your skin. 'are you going to cry, hm?' he asks.

you swallow painfully. your tongue's dry. throat parched from the lack of water. the rope around your neck tightens, as you try to move your head.

'no, don't. nice and easy for me,' his hands push into your flesh. thumbs digging into the tense knots on your shoulder. his breathe, not and heavy on your cold skin with every word he speaks, as he continues massaging your shoulders. his touch is tender, almost. too tender to be of a man who's a cruel, cold hearted killer. too gentle to be of a predator's.

'i trust you're not foolish enough to try and do anything stupid,' he says, almost a warning. he unties your bindings, freeing your limbs and neck. you wince- whimper, the noise a pathetic and painful sound from your throat. your eyes well up with tears, at the sheer humiliation of it all.

your skin burns with it. it ripples with fury, rage and the lack of pity. your nails dig painfully into your thighs, as your heart hammers against your ribcage. your head spins. your body falls slump against the cold, hard ground as you sob. the sound harsh, unflinching and ringing from your throat.

********************************

a/n- i'm honestly stuck between making this a yandere!will fic or a normal will fic. suggestions are welcome!

i'm not going to use my regular taglist since this is a different fandom i'm writing about. but if you do want to be tagged for my upcoming fics for this fandom, let me know in my inbox:) i'll also be accepting requests! please do read my guidelines before sending them in though :).

********************************

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast x short and fluffy reader? (Maybe the reader has an extra fluffy tail)

TADC cast x short and fluffy!reader !

Ooo I wanna make brioche, but I also wanna make macarons... but I also wanna make scones... OOOOOO but I also wanna make butterscotch haystacks (having a crisis) (this is totally unrelated to the ask I just be yappin)

CAINE:

Now to be fair, you didnt specify how short you are so to Caine you're probably just normal sized/j .. absolutely loves your fluff, probably runs his hands through it every chance he gets, regardless of if its hair, feathers, or fur! Since you're on the smaller side he can pro comfortably hold you in his arms while flying around! Loves showing you how the grounds look from above, I think!

No thoughts only Caine taking you up to fly over the grounds while its nighttime and you see all the lights down below and everything looks so pretty!!

He wont drop you I promise

POMNI:

You're normal sized in her eyes/j

Keeps her hands to herself but if you offer to let her pet your tail! Good stress relief, I think! Pomni never really initiates it before you offer, though, since she doesnt really want to invade your personal bubble

Please communicate with her that it's fine and it's not something you mind!

RAGATHA:

Occasional pets! She kind of lies somewhere between pomni and jax in terms of how much shes going to pet you without any prompting! More so a head pats person than a tail.. stuff?? Trust me the "tail stuff" makes more sense when you read jax's part..! Doesnt make fun of you for your height, i just cant see ragatha doing that. I was originally gonna say she would make petnames for you based on it, but I'm not actually sure she would.. has probably made bows and stuff for your tail!

JAX:

(Bumping my fists on the table) jax fidget hc jax fidget hc !!!!! Messes with your tail when its within reach; usually just messing with the fur or lightly bapping it around and watching it instinctively move around in response! He would already tease you for being shorter than him... but if you're actually below the average height (or at least, the average within the digital world) then hes gonna lean really into it! Makes a show of getting something down for you, probably overstretches himself and gets on his tip tops to sell the point (he, of course, not needing to do any of thst thanks to his height)

KINGER:

The "how to talk to short people" meme but hes on the incorrect side by crouching down to your height/j he doesnt mean anything rude by it..! Sometimes likes to mess with your tail by petting the fur when you guys cuddle inside the pillow fort! Honestly I can see him with a fidgeting habit, too, like jax! But I think his is less intense and he has a little more restraint.. that said once you give him the go ahead hes gonna be constantly petting your tail if it's long enough

ZOOBLE:

(Watches your tail swish around) "oh... cool.."

Zooble doesn't exactly feel this way or that about your tail, however I will say you extra fluff makes cuddling with them more enjoyable since they look like they're made of hard plastic (Zooble I'm sorry I love you)

Probably lightly teases you for your height; not to the extent jax does it but they probably let out a flat "haah.. short.." when you briefly struggle with something non important

GANGLE:

Short person x person who can (physically and emotionally) be knocked down easily; you guys both have your own struggles/j

Would never ever in a million years make any mean comments on your height, and this includes teasing and nicknames; she doesn't have the heart to even lightly poke fun at you

Petting can be a little weird, since gangle doesnt exactly.. have hands.. I mean she does, but they're like the ends of ribbon; she doesnt have palms or fingers, nor can she put the most force behind her touches (at least that's my personal hc, she doesnt strike me as someone who's. Strong... or even proportionally strengthed? Idk shes ribbon)

Very silly she loves it when your tail starts swishing around when you see her!!

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Answer to this: If you use a phone, which usually have a wider lens, the doll will look off because wide lens (less than 50mm) distorts things. In this case try to put the doll in the middle of the photo where the less distortion is.

Don't use phone flash or built in camera flash, that's the best way to make your doll look like a creepypasta. You can use camera flash if you put a white plastic cup over it, it will soften the harsh light, and you can fill the cup with white papertowel or put white paper outside, you can experiment! Be careful of lights in general, if the light hits directly the doll's face, the sharp contrast will make the portrait look harsh.

The eyes should be placed carefully, to look alive, you can achieve that usually if the pupils look slightly up and they are symmetrical. Side-eyeing in different ways can look very natural too, looking forward can be cute or intense, depending on the doll's vibe.

If the wig is too shiny or too messy, that can be off-putting too. An obviously fake fur or plastic wig will always look unnatural. You can style fur wigs with a toothbrush or wet your fingers and gently make the hair looks like an organized mess, not a tangled mess. You can make very shiny wig look less shiny if you don't use an artifical light. I know that with heat you can style plastic wigs as well, like boiling water or a hair dryer, but look up the technics and be careful with you and your doll, heat can damage the resin as well!

Don't use props that are proportionally too big for your doll, or put them next to too big items (like a real car) if you want it to look realistic, but you can embrace the doll's doll-ness as well and put them next to human-size stuff. I personally don't care very much but the most life-like doll photos are very careful with any details. Same goes for the doll-clothes, it will only look very life-like if the accessories, stitches, buttons are not too big. If you don't care - like me - that's fine too, this only applies to those who want the most realistic photos.

Be consistent, decide what effect you want to achieve and avoid very fake and cheap looking things. I hope you will find it somewhat useful, if so, I can collect some more stuff. I use a camera and different lenses so if anyone is interested, I can give more tips for beginner camera photographers :) (I'm not a pro myself, but I have a passion for portrait photography and I am doing it for like 8 years now)

~Anonymous

[kitab00m101]

'Ello Erin! If you had wings, what do you think would you like the most and what would annoy you the most?

you do not understand HOW MUCH I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS

This ended up being longer than I thought, so I'll give yall a break 😅

Now, I have 3 versions of wings I envision myself with. 1, lower back/hip wings that aren't bird, but moreso look like those cool feathered raptor(dinosaur, not bird) wings (so they'd fold at my sides instead of my back). 2, Catalina Macaw shoulder blade wings. And 3, a small set of wings (length of my arms) on my lower back and another set behind my ears (red-fronted macaw or also Catalina)

Starting with number 1, I'd like having another set of "arms" to help hold and carry things. They would be easier to preen since i dont gave to bend or twist much to reach them. They'd be really helpful with climbing (something I love but struggle to do) And I could pickpocket people when I hug them! /hj Some dislikes of this set of wings is that it would be much harder to sleep with them compared to others (especially since I'm a side sleeper)

For number 2, theses are a really good set of wings, basic and sweet lol. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeg hugs for my loved ones, I would scoop those mfs into my feathers and they'd never see the light of day again. Most proportionate and normal looking of the bunch. I can still sleep on my side. I often imagine I would use them to create a little safe barrier between me and my chaotic household when things get real crazy. Idk if this counts as what I would like but, I'd feel whole. Like this thing I've been missing my whole life would finally be a weight on my shoulders in the best way possible. Some negatives I'd have with the Catalina Macaw wings are that they are the biggest of the bunch, therefore the clunkiest and hardest to preen on my own. I'm terrible at self-care, so there would be weeks where my feathers would be looking rough to say the least.

Finally number 3! For the head pair, I would use them to cover my face a lot. I can't tell if this is a negative or a positive, but in public/at school I have to try really hard to not laugh or smile or have any kind of facial reaction because that draws attention to me/sometimes I do it wrong and get made fun of, so I just don't now. But with the head wings, I could cover my face to crack a smile every once in a while. If I really wanna avoid eye contact I can put the wings in the way. Not to mention I'd be all cutesie kissing my partners, fluffing my feathers and all that. They could also be a tell of my emotions (like dog ears or sm :) As for negatives I feel like until I get my haircut it's gonna be a pain brushing with them in the way (it hurts enough when I accidentally poke my ears on the bristles, I don't wanna mess up my wings too, that'd hurt bro) For the lower back pair, theses would probably be the ideal wings convenience wise. I can sit and lay most places without hurting them, I can still give feathery hugs, and they wouldn't be horrible to preen. Little annoyance, they're the smallest main set of wings, so I feel like my dogs (German shepherd puppies) would try to take a bite out of my feathers while teething, and I can't swat them away like I can with the other ones.

Bonus: some behaviors I think I would have with said wings- For number 1, I think I would often figet/stim using the wings since they're the only ones with claws. Number 2 I think I would shake them out when I'm really excited, and the lower pair of number 3 I might flap them when excited/overwhelmed.

[masquayla-the-splendid]

Okay I didn't expect this post to be an essay, but here's my Fnaf 3 9th anniversary drawings, with very extensive detail into my thought process.

Love me some gore explosion Springlock failure, but realistically, the suit would just soak with blood, and William would be a pathetic gurgling mess. (Like the movie. Took it like a champ, too.) I know it's because the minigame shows it spewing everywhere, but I'm pretty sure it was it's way of telling you that that man is finished with the hardware limitations an Atari or a super early arcade cabinet would have.

The springlocks depicted as Frankenstein's monster lookin bolts, and the flies with dot trails is my favorite part. Also, the hole in his chest is vaguely heart shaped. I saw it in a video redesigning Scraptrap and thought it was genius. But that was so long ago icr who did that video. :')

I rarely ever draw Springtrap, and it think it's because how humanly proportionate he is, which is hard to toonify. The weird withering patterns don't help either. I looked at Kosperry's design for extra guidance.

⬇️Kosperry's Springtrap⬇️

(oml I love their art so much gggGGzv)

For being right-side up trapezoid shaped, upside-down isosceles triangle in a buff fashion works really well for him.

And the best part, I color picked and drew some inspiration for Spring Bonnie from this suspiciously shaped robian from Sonic SatAM. (Left)

The backgrounds of Robotnik’s lair gave me major Fnaf 3 vibes when I came back to that show. Probably because it's so "polluted green," and might as well smell putrid.