#i also don’t do comics but i had to do this

[beloveds-embrace]

rugby player Simon and his pretty little balerina partner. Thats it. Thats whats currently plaquing my mind

Now that you’ve said it I’m thinking about them too because YES 😩 i tried a more headcanony style for this, really had no idea what to write as a drabble

• You first met Simon “Ghost” Riley during an injury rehab session. He’s there nursing a rough tackle, while you’re recovering from an overworked ankle. Despite his intimidating size and silence, he notices how gracefully you move even while stretching, and you can’t help but admire his sheer size even if he’s making the nurses nervous.

• Ghost is, honest to god, shy about approaching you at first; why would delicate, lovely you want someone of his type and build to approach you? But he still gets roped into conversation when you tease him for struggling with a basic stretching exercise. “I’m built for smashing into blokes, not folding like you do.” he grumbles, but he doesn’t sound truly bothered. You are sure you can even hear the amusement. And this is how you end up exchanging number and texting, until he finally asky you out on a proper date.

• He’s genuinely amazed at your discipline and talent, often catching himself zoning out while watching you rehearse. You tease him for staring, but he’s truky awestruck by how effortlessly you glide across the floor, almost looking weightless.

• You love watching him play rugby. Seeing him control the field with raw strength and precision is hot. You start attending his matches, cheering louder than anyone else when he tackles an opponent or scores. His favorite cheerleader- his best girl <3

• Ghost introduces you to his gym routines, and you try (unsuccessfully) to keep up with his weightlifting. You love the view of his muscles flexing, though, and you don’t try to hide it. You also love sitting on his back while he does pushups, giving him a kiss ever so often in encouragement.

• In return, you teach him some basic ballet moves to improve his agility to help him. The image of this massive, intimidating man attempting pliés is hilarious, but he’s surprisingly nimble. “Don’t tell the lads, yeah, doll?” he huffs, though his amusement is clear and it has you giggling.

• Simon loves how tiny you feel when he wraps his arms around you. After games, he picks you up effortlessly, spinning you around as you laugh and lean down to kiss him much to the whistles and hoots of his teammates. Neither of you care anyways.

• After a game, he’s all adrenaline and intensity, body taut. You tease him by saying, “Don’t you dare bring that sweaty self near me, Simon Riley.” but he pulls you into a heated kiss anyway, pinning you gently against a wall in the hallways of the stadium.

• He loves when you practice in front of him wearing your ballet leotard. The combination of your grace and your form-fitting outfit gets his heart and more racing, though he keeps his composure… mostly.

• Simon is also your biggest cheerleader during your performances, sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers that looks comically small in his massive hands. He always looks proud, even if he doesn’t say much. And he absolutely glares or shushes anyone who is causing a ruckus and taking the spotlight off you.

• He joins you most of the time in the backstages, and when you’re feeling nervous before a performance, he cups your face in his big, warm hands and whispers, “You’re the most talented person in the room. Show ‘em who you are.”

• You return the favor by helping him relax before games. You massage his shoulders and give him little pep talks, which he pretends not to need but secretly loves. Sometimes of them are even recorded on his phone for the very rare occasions you can’t make it to his games.

• Said it before but I’ll say it again: you love how his body feels next to yours- rugby has made him all broad shoulders and powerful muscles, and he loves how delicate your hands feel running over his skin. Likewise, he loves caressing your skin and rubbing creams and ointments to your aching feet muscles.

• He calls you “Twinkle Toes” which sounds sarcastic at first but is said with so much affection that it melts your heart.

• You call him “Big Softie” because, despite his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest with you. He pretends to hate it, but he secretly loves when you use it in private. Had a stupid smile on his face when saw it was how you had your contact for him saved.

[ladyofwasps]

I’m always wanting to help broaden people’s horizons in the tabletop sphere but I totally empathize with anyone worried about crunch heavy systems, that was a major fear of mine when I started getting into the hobby. Here are some super simple, easy to introduce games for your table!

Sentinel Comics The Roleplaying Game

Do you like superheroes? This game is perfect for superheroes! Although it’s also ideal for emulating anime, pulp stories, and I’ve had some success using it to run a game where everyone is a monster. It’s going to use all your dice except the d20, character creation is super fun and loaded with options but if you struggle with decision anexity don’t worry there’s a guide to rolling up a random character. In all my time with the system I’ve never rolled up a random who want super interesting and had me itching to play them. The game uses the GYRO system of its own invention, this gives you three health zones (Green, Yellow and Red) that grant you more and more options as scenes go on. This really recreates cinematic moments where the hero is down to their last breath and clutches the win a massive gamble of a move. You can find this game on the Greater Then Games website along with the Sentinel Comics Card Game which is also amazing.

Hunter: The Reckoning (Fifth Edition)

Don’t know anything about World of Darkness? Don’t worry, neither do the hunters! This is a fantastic and simple system with a focus on the narrstive that will break your group away from D&D’s more war game-esque system. If you’ve wanted to run a game based on Buffy or Supernatural, both of those are pretty much Hunter’s core DNA. Players are mortals who discover their world is filled with monsters like vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and demons and set out to reclaim the night from mankind’s ancient enemies. If you enjoy this game then you’ll probably also enjoy the other two World of Darkness 5th edition games out right now, use this to springboard into Vampire and Werewolf!

Blades in The Dark

A system using a modified version of Powered By The Apocalypse, you mastermind heists through flashbacks and on-the-job thinking. If you like Ocean’s Eleven or just want to run a heist game heavy on the critical planning part but light on actually wargaming out the plan, this is perfect for you. Default setting is a fantasy steam punk world you can really play around a lot with, a great pallet cleanser from sword and sorcery games.

Imagine a person who only consumes Batman-related media. That is, they only watch movies and TV shows that have Batman in them, only read books that are novelisations of Batman media, only play licensed Batman video games, and so forth. This is not so absurd an idea; Batman-related media is sufficiently popular, varied and widespread that restricting one's media consumption in this way is completely feasible. However, I trust we can agree that if you actually do this, you will be left with very strange ideas about what popular media looks like.

The next step in this analogy is undestanding that if the only tabletop RPG you're acquainted with is Dungeons & Dragons, you have the same grasp of the tabletop roleplaying hobby as our hypothetical Batman Guy has of popular media.

[ellecdc]

Hey! Congrats on 5k elle!! <3

Can I ask a baby it's cold outside with the prompt "did you really put a blanket over me while i was sleeping." with Regulus? Maybe he fell asleep talking with Reader and she put the blanket so he isn't cold?

— 🎵

thank you love! also, for some reason this became an academic rivals fic, but it felt right for our Reggie! hahaha thanks for the prompt <3

Regulus Black x fem!reader who did not stupefy him [539 words]

CW: could be considered gn!reader - the only gendered marker for reader is the term 'witch', rivals, haters to....?, open ended, banter and fluff

Regulus woke with a start, which wasn’t unusual. 

What was unusual was that he woke up in the library, or, rather, that he fell asleep in the library. Perhaps even more unusual was the throw blanket carefully draped over his shoulders. 

“Merlin, you’re wound tight; who wakes up like that?” Your voice sounded from somewhere to his right; Regulus was sitting up board straight already, and he had no time to be concerned with whether or not his has crease lines criss crossing on the side of his face that had been resting on his jumper clad arm, nor whether his curls had taken on a mind of their own when he turned his attention to you. 

“What did you do?” Regulus hissed. Your eyebrows furrowed near comically where they were pointed down at your textbook before your curious eyes moved up to consider him.

“Are you quite alright, Black?” 

“You…you stupefied me or something. I’m sure of it.” He insisted as primly as he could muster, only having to pause once to clear the sound of sleep from his voice. 

“I did not stupefy you, you git.” You hissed right back. 

He realised then that it was a little peculiar; the two of you had the entire library to yourselves, seeing as most students went home for the the holidays, and those who remained at the school over the holidays didn’t exactly spend their time haunting the library of all places, yet the two of you were somehow sitting at the same group of tables.

Peculiar, still, because the two of you didn’t much care for each other.

It’s not that Regulus particularly disliked you or what not, but rather that you were an annoying pain in his arse and constantly trying to best him in your shared classes.

He had hoped to get a chance to get ahead of his course work over the break - put a little space between the two of you in terms of grades - but it appeared that you had shared the same idea. 

Meddlesome witch. 

“Then you must have put a sleeping potion in my tea.” He deduced as he vanished what remained in his cup with a flippant flick of his wrist. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re impossible. Why would I have done that?”

“You’re trying to best me in classes.”

You let out a rather inelegant snort as the corner of your lips turned upwards into a smirk. “I don’t have to try to best you, Black, I am the best.”

Regulus let out a derisive laugh. “Right, so, what? You just put a blanket over my shoulders out of the kindness of your heart?”

If Regulus wasn’t mistaken, he thought perhaps he noticed a look of bashfulness cross your features as you started to pack up your things. 

“You were shaking like a jar of billywigs, Black; it was impossible to get any work done with the thunk, thunk, thunking of your chair legs. Besides, it’s not like I was going to waste my magic casting a warming charm over you.” 

And, if Regulus wasn’t mistaken, he thought he felt the telltale tingling of a warming charm fading as the door to the library closed behind you. 

How peculiar.

[indigo-flowers09]

Here have some mama roba doodles for me to rant under :]

big fat RANT under the cut. just wanted an excuse to post it by posting doodles

its about why i haven’t been posting as much and a bit about the c!overtale comic ( >vo) ~*

So. i have not been posting as much as i used to. and i definitely have not been updating c!overtale as much as i want to.

I get that as i get further and further into the school year i’m gonna have more work and it gonna get harder, but i’m still making good grades so i just haven’t had as much time or energy to work on c!overtale or digital art as i want.

First off, i’ve been drawing traditionally a lot more. i don’t post it often because it just doesn’t do as well on here compared to digital art. it’s what’s accessible to me at school and just. easier. right now.

i’m not the only person who gets into a cycle of (good at digital > bad at digital > good at traditional > bad at traditional > good at digital) right??? i’m just in a bad at digital swing right now

Second, C!overtale. I’ve REALLY been wanting to talk about it. just another reason i haven’t been posting as much.

so far, of what i haven’t posted, i have 2 pages completely finished, five more inked, and at LEAST 30 to 40 more thumbnailed. i’m planning on having the next update be seven pages total, and i’ve been working on them little by little for over a month now.

this is really taking a lot longer than i wanted but i know the quality of work i’m capable of producing and i want to achieve it. i don’t want to half ass something i’m so passionate about just for the likes or to satisfy my social anxiety telling me people already forgot about it.

Expect that update by the end of the month. i’m gonna try to wrap it up over thanksgiving break. i really am sorry it’s taking so long, i’ve been working on that and school and, shivers, self care ewww like healthier habits and all the doodling in the world. i doodle when life gets uncontrollably political. i hate politics.

if you actually read all the way through this, thank you and why????? have some more mama roba for your inconvenience. she’s giving clover a bubble bath :3

Also im working on a drawing that’s shaping up to be pretty good. hope y’all like yuri 😼

[thisismeracing]

Hey, can I pleade request Mick dating a journalism major!reader in uni, (and she has to write a paper about something like 'a thing you find beautiful in everday life' or something like that and she writes about Mick, he reads it and realises she has feelings for him)? Please

P.S.: feel free ignore the part in the brackets

Beautiful things | MS47

⸺ the one where it's no secret you're in love with him, but he finally realizes it. ✓ mentions of food; friends to lovers; not proofread; fem!reader (she/her). 0.8k words

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick had a rushed routine as a driver and a famous one. You also had a rushed routine, though you were neither famous nor a driver. Quite the opposite and your friendship surprised a few people because you were a journalism major who just like in the cliches spilled your coffee on him on your first day at the paddock.

One of your college friends who happened to have a rich mom invited you to a weekend in the paddock, and though every catastrophic scenario went through your head you said yes. As it turned out, you did make a fool of yourself, but it earned you a new friend, and just like everyone once told you, nobody is paying that much attention to the point of remembering the comic situation you got pulled into.

You and Mick clicked and had been friends for around two years now. You made it work even with the hectic schedule and the traveling. He would take you with him whenever it was near enough for a quick plane ride and you didn't have classes. That's how it became a thing for him to know about your assignments and help you with them. He would tell you that it was relaxing to read your writing, and then proceed to do it every small free second he got (there were shots of him in the garage with a sandwich in one hand and your laptop in the other).

Coming to think about it, you suppose that maybe that's how you fell for him. Mick was always there for you even when he was on the other side of the world. He would call, and text, and get you small souvenirs. He would help proofread your assignments, and ask about your day. And don't get things wrong, you have tons of friends, but none of them felt like what you had with Mick. None of them slept with their phone by their pillow waiting for you to sleep and waking you up if they heard you having a nightmare. You kept telling yourself that he was just extra friendly. That he was the golden retriever guy everyone talked about, but that didn't mean he loved you. That, though, wasn't enough to convince your heart and you saw yourself slowly and surely fall for him.

That's how you ended up writing about him in your last assignment. One he wasn't supposed to read, but you forgot you shared the online folder with him and that he opened it every weekend to check for new stuff.

There are many beautiful things in everyday life, but some don't seem captivating to us every day. I love the sky, love the way the blue can turn into orange, and somehow get mixed into a light purple. How at night you get to see different glimmers of stars, and travel imagining cloud forms just like when it's daylight. But I don't see the sky as lovely when it's winter and there's no sun or white clouds, just a dark shade of grey. [...] I also find the rush of people in the city captivating, each going on about their lives, taking the subway, strolling with friends, walking the dogs, and buying groceries. Still, there are days when I hate the rush, and I hate how the dogs will stand in the way on the sidewalk, how the subway is full, and how loud a group of strangers can be. [...] But then there are the people. A person. He drives just as effortlessly as he walks. And the days when he walks with me, the dark sky is beautiful, the dogs barking in the way are music to my ears, and the packed subway is full of bursting dreams and hopeful people. I'm one of them. I'm hopeful he'll notice me one day. I'm hopeful he'll love me the way I love him. I'm hopeful he'll see me just as beautiful as I see him. To me, he's the everyday beauty, not because of his sparkly blue eyes, or soft blond hair, but because of who he is. I never get tired of him. I never will because he's this kind of beauty to me.

"Wow," he breathed after finishing your paper just as you were walking into his driver's room.

His big ocean orbs found your frame by the door, and by the way he was looking at you, surprise etched on his face, you knew he read the piece and connected the dots.

"Mick...I-...I'm so sorry- I-" Truth be told, you were on the verge of tears, what was supposed to be a beautiful day started to feel like a nightmare. You thought so many things, thought he would hate you, thought he wouldn't wanna be friends anymore, that he would laugh at you, but he smiled.

He gave you that overwhelmingly gorgeous smile.

Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, he was in front of you, still smiling, he reached for your cheekbones and connected your foreheads, taking a deep breath - something you weren't able to do because of your nerves.

"Schatzi, you're the most beautiful thing in the world," he whispered, and that small sentence was everything you needed to hear.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: This was so fun to write hihihi I hope you guys like it! - don't forget to reblog and comment if you do *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[louve-garoue]

Ok sorry everyone I was gonna put this in the tags but then tumblr then went end erased half of it, which I had to rewrite so now you get it to have here :D ! Here we go :DD !

You ! You get it !

Twilight Princess has such an interesting story around Power. You seek it out with the Fused Shadow despite seeing exactly what harm and unwanted changes it could cause. whetever it be to those fighting against it or to those that dares touch it (hi there Fyrus and Wolf Link). And to make it even clearer Lanaryu give you a very graphic yet metaphorical warning to be careful with it.

And yet you don't hesitate to seek it. Even though it the same kind of power that attacked your home. You see how powerful it is and fighting fire with fire is the only plan you have. You see how dangerous it can be for both the wielder and the people around them and yet it's your only option. The Light World was so clearly beaten what else is there but seeking Shadows or admitting defeat.

And you refuse to admit defeat. And once you get to the second part of the game to find the Mirror Shards, you're confronted to those thoughts all over again. You have to go find the Master Sword. You have to go seek power yet again.

But it’s the power of Light this time. The same power that nearly killed Midna a few days ago. But still you go for it, and you get the Curse Out. And then instead of destroying you decide to keep and use it for yourself. Because it was powerful and you got it with you now so why would you throw it away. And just like that you are reclaiming what was used to hurt you. You reclaim the curse but you also reclaim your wolf form and Midna now no longer have to be a shadow in the Light Realm. You saw that Power was dangerous but you refuse let your fear of it control you (or to fear it at all), refuse to let it stop you from using something that will help you saves those you love. And on the way of doing just that you discover the beauty of what your people would simply dismiss as harmful and evil.

But still Power is dangerous, even if it’s not Evil and nothing teach you that better that Matornia (Yeta in English) and Blizzarnia, the first boss you have to fight to get the Mirror Shards. Now the Twilight Mirror is meant to be a get. It’s not a weapon, it’s not meant to harm and it’s certainly not evil, but it is powerful. And Power corrupts, change people. And so in the hand of people who don’t know of their power they became dangerous. It makes Matornia ills, attracted monsters and yet Matornia herself is fond of it and is reluctant to give it away, up until Power overtake her. Still even if dangerous, it’s not evil. The Twilight Mirror just need extra care and caution when handling them. And now finding them is not just about you getting power, it’s also about stopping people who don’t know to be careful from getting hurt, from getting changed or corrupted. You have been warned, the rest of the world have not. And you and Midna know what you are doing, know how to make sure the Mirror won’t bring harm to anyone else. The Mirror isn’t evil, it’s just been Misplaced, just like the Twilight Realm has been in the first half of the game.

And when it’s finally time for you two to unleash the power you earned throughout your journey to defeat Xanto (Zant), Midna is horrified by how much she had, how easy it was to kill. Perhaps it’s why she never let power overtake her. Power by itself is neutral, not evil nor good, like you said it’s just a tool. A tool that can show all it’s possibilities used by capable hands.

Anyway all that to say that 1. This comic is awesome and 2. This may feel like it comes from nowhere, but this blog is a “Tp Link (or Midna) got the Triforce of Power after defeating Ganondorf” Supremacy household. First because he deserve it and also it’s literally how it works ! You defeat the dude with a piece of the Triforce and you get to take it for yourself ! Come on I don’t make the rules ! Join me !

Anyway thank you for coming to my long-ass rant and fuck you tumblr.

power

[gatorbites-imagines]

I actually caught you when your asks are open this is spectacular

I know you write for Plastic Man, but I don't know about Negative Man? Larry Trainor, comics or show. So you can do this with either one you want.

Male reader who's similar to the invisible man – Not criminal, maybe backstory, but at least was a scientist who turned himslef invisible but a tad more realistic, blind but in the more Matt Murdock way, or just blind, I don't mind either. Hcs or anything else of any kind, but hcs would probably be easier.

I alao don't mind if it's ftm reader or the explicitly of it!! So sorry if this is all over the place. I didn't want it to be long😞

Lawrence “Larry” Trainor x Male reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a lot about Larry, so this is based off the wiki. The reader is also somewhat based off the 1933 movie The Invisible Man but with my own spin, since I wasn’t sure what else you might have been referring too, hehe. I hope my lack of knowledge still makes this good to read.

I got major Morticia and Gomez vibes from these two as i wrote.

You were no superhero, nor were you a villain. You were just a man who flew too close to the sun and got burnt on the way to discovery. The sun had so much to give, something you knew so many years ago before Superman appeared, and you learned his power source was the sun.

You barely kept track of when you were born nowadays, there was no need too. From what little you could gather, you didn’t age, you didn’t hunger or thirst, you didn’t even need to sleep. But you knew you had been around before radioactivity was discovered.

You had been around before the major superheroes became a thing, it wasn’t something that interested you a lot. There were a couple you knew, like Alan Scott, and Jay Garrick, you had even met wonder woman once or twice. But you were no hero.

So, it was no shocker that you didn’t know about this so-called doom patrol. How would you. Its not like you owned a tv, and you didn’t care much for the news stations on the radio nowadays. It was all ads and dramatic sound effects.

You were never sure what to call yourself. Alan used to call you a scientist, and Jay did too even though he hadn’t visited in a long time, at least it felt like a long time. But you had heard he got married and had kids, so of course that was more important. You still sent them both holiday cards though.

As a scientist you had studied radioactivity before it was discovered by anyone else. You had always had a habit of being consumed by your work, so when you climbed out of your pit of research, someone else had already claimed the discovery.

It didn’t matter though, as what interested you was the sun and the power you just knew it stored. Of course, it didn’t end well. Going invisible, blind, deaf, and losing pretty much every other sense hadn’t been on your list of predictions. But that’s what happened.

You could still see, hear, smell, and so on… in your own way. It was impossible to explain, but you didn’t truly exist the same way everyone else seemed to do. The radioactivity from the sun had given you other powers too.

But those powers weren’t used a lot. Why would you need to fly, or phase through things, or channel the power of the sun to blast somebody. You were anti-military and anti-government, that’s why they never supported your research and buried your existence from the history books, so you weren’t gonna fight.

When you finally learned about this so-called doom patrol you almost felt a little bashful, or could you say miffed? It was like one of them had stolen your entire look. Well, most of it anyways.

You were both wrapped from head to toe in bandages, though his seemed much thicker and sturdier than yours, like they were inlaid with something. And his clothing were more modern, and looked more practical.

What could you say, you were a sucker for the fashion you grew up with. So, what if your clothing, furniture and everything about you screamed Victorian era. Some of the younglings Jay brought along when he visited said you looked very “antique” and that “old stuff is in”.

You also didn’t wear shades like Mr. negative, Larry, you later learned, did. You were blind as a bat and had no physical eyes anyways, so why wear shades in the first place?

It was hard to explain how your body worked, it had the form of a human when you wrapped it, but it also… didn’t exist. You always just blamed it on the undiscovered art of radioactivity and science so advanced the world hadn’t gotten there yet.

It did look slightly entertaining to see you in your Victorian era dressing robe, in a pair of your best slippers with a glass of brandy you couldn’t really taste, beside Larry, who had very clearly seen better days.

Both being wrapped in bandages created a kind of comradery between you two in the beginning. Lary had thought maybe you were like him, especially when you explained how you got where you were, since his accident was based around radioactivity too.

Only for you to shock him, but unwrapping your head and revealing… nothing. Literally nothing. You even grabbed his hand and brought it to where your head would be, only for it to pass through it like nothing.

Your body seemed present when you wrapped it, a phenomenon you were still studying to this day. Right now, your results were pointing in the direction of it being mental, but who truly knew at the end of the day.

Larry hadn’t been willing to remove his own bandages for very obvious reasons, no matter how many times you told him it wouldn’t hurt you, and that it wouldn’t matter. You were raised too well to make any demands.

Instead, you pulled out your very old photo album and walked him through your family, happily pointing out pictures of yourself and how you looked, only scowling a little as he laughed at your hairstyle and outfits of the time.

In the end you touched him by accident. There was some accident in your lab that tore some of the bandages on his hand, and without a second thought you took his hand and wrapped it again. Obviously, nothing happened to you, you didn’t have a body that could be hurt, but it was still a shock for Larry.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Larry was as touch starved as he was. Not having any human contact for so long would drive anybody mad, except you that is, but you also were convinced that that was some mental result of your accident.

So, you didn’t turn him away when Larry would start appearing in your giant Victorian era mansion, far out in the mountains, so far away from anything that whatever radioactivity you worked on wouldn’t reach.

You also didn’t mind that Larry started searching you out for contact. He started small, just sitting closer to you as you had tea together, where it evolved to sitting up against you as you went through your papers, to Larry going as far as laying his bandaged head in your lap as you read aloud from one of your many books.

Larry was so sweet, in his own hesitant way. He even let you study how his own powers worked, but to no surprise you two didn’t reach a certain result, but neither of you had expected that.

Hell, Larry even got more comfortable going around in public, as you would hook your arms together and almost strut along, as if the wide eyed and sometimes hateful stares didn’t touch you.

That was also how you finally met the justice league. The only one that interested you was Superman, and he wouldn’t let you study him as much as you wanted. Your extreme studies of the sun at least caught Batman’s interest, enough for you two to have very long difficult conversations about science. You later learned you reminded him of his butler, which you took as a compliment since he was spoken so highly of.

The doom patrol wasn’t your favorite, you didn’t trust that Chief guy, and rightfully so. But who were you to tell Larry who he could and couldn’t forgive, you just made it very clear you weren’t gonna help that guy.

In the end, the relationship you two shared was strange, but soft in ways that was hard to put into words. Your first kiss took months to happen, as you didn’t have lips when you unwrapped your bandages, and Larry needed so long to grow comfortable to pull his off.

Holding hands, or tapping your foot against each other’s became how you expressed love. That, or giving gifts. You made place in your giant mansion for his many gifts, wanting to show them all off.

And Larry? Larry got a whole new wardrobe as well as many other trinkets he might need. You even dove head first into the tools and armor market, wanting to give Larry something to keep him safe. You couldn’t have cared less about the rest of his team, they weren’t really your friends, just Larry.

Those items might have gotten your usual Victorian flare to them too, even if they were sleek and modern in their abilities and storage. It was a bit like your way of marking Larry as yours.

It was still difficult for Larry to feel safe without his bandages in your mansion, not just because of how dangerous it was, but also because he found himself so hideous. You didn’t find him ugly, not at all. You also knew it would take Larry a long time to believe you, so you didn’t force him to accept it, just left the opportunity open.

You two made a strange but surprisingly strong couple, when you finally visited the outside world. Those few times were either to have tea with Batman’s very smart butler, or to blast somebody with the power of the sun for hurting your dear love. No matter what though, you always left an impression, not that you cared. All you cared about was leaving one with Larry.

[dostoyevsky-official]

I’m about to tell you the craziest love story in literary history. And before you ransack the canon for a glamorous rebuttal, I must warn you: Its preeminence is conclusive. Dante and Beatrice, Scott and Zelda, Véra and Vladimir. All famous cases of literary love and inspiration, sure. But these romances lack the 47-year novelistic drama of the craziest story. They lack the stolen gun, the border crossings, the violation of federal law. They lack the forged birth certificate and clandestine love letters. But above all, they lack the leading lady: the secret muse.

[...] I don’t pretend to understand women,” McCarthy told Oprah Winfrey in 2007, commenting on the lack of them in his novels—despite the fact that he was married three times. And for decades, readers took him at his word.

Upon McCarthy’s death, however, the mystery of his personal life has drawn close enough for us to unravel assumptions into their opposites: Cormac McCarthy did not shirk womenkind in his novels. On the contrary, it turns out that many of his famous leading men were inspired by a single woman, a single secret muse revealed here for the first time: a five-foot-four badass Finnish American cowgirl named Augusta Britt. A cowgirl whose reality, McCarthy confessed in his early love letters to her, he had “trouble coming to grips with.”

[...] It’s monsoon season, and lightning bobs and weaves in the corner of your eyes all day like floaters. There are three separate storms to the south, delicately wind-tilted on the horizon. Lightning races them in a stitchless thread, and to the north rain shimmers through the sheerest rainbow, stamped perfectly horizontal against the mountains like the execution line on a document.

[...] Britt says she lived a normal life until the age of 11. That year, and for reasons she never quite understood, her family moved from the snowy plains of North Dakota to the border town desert of Tucson. This is where the muse’s novelistic question mark emerges. An origin story beginning on an ellipse. Something hideous happened to her in the desert. Something traumatically violent. Something that destroyed her family.

Every time she was hit, whether by her father or a foster parent, she would disappear inside herself. It could take weeks, months to reemerge. It got to the point where if it happened again, she didn’t know if she’d ever come out. And she could no longer live like that.

“So I’ve decided I’m not going to be hit anymore,” she told McCarthy at that motel pool. Here she pauses, and you must imagine the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard—a sweetness that isn’t afraid to pull triggers first and ask questions later. “I’m just going to shoot anyone who tries.”

“ ‘Well,’ ” McCarthy said, “ ‘That would explain the gun.’ ”

“And that was so Cormac,” Britt laughs. “And I thought, Thank God this man gets it.”

Just imagine for a moment: You’re an unappreciated literary genius who has not even hit your stride before going out of print. Your novels so far have circled around dark Southern characters who do dark Southern things. You’re stalled on the draft of a fourth novel, called Suttree, which features an indeterminately young side character named Harrogate, not yet written as a runaway. You’re sitting by a pool at a cheap motel when a beautiful 16-year-old runaway sidles up to you with a stolen gun in one hand and your debut novel in the other. She reads in her closet to stay out of violence’s earshot. To survive her lonely anguish, the wound she’s been carrying since age 11, this girl has only literature to turn to: Hemingway, Faulkner, you. She flickers with comic innocence yet tragic experience beyond her years and an atavistic insistence on survival on her own terms. She has suffered more childhood violence than you can imagine, and she holds your own prose up to you for autograph, dedication, proof of provenance.

[...] After learning Britt wanted to be a nurse, McCarthy also introduced a character named Wanda to Suttree, an underage love interest Suttree meets in the month of August. Wanda reads stories about nurses and steals away to Suttree’s tent in the small hours of the night. She is also Britt’s debut death, crushed under a rockslide.

[...] Posting an essay on my favorite writer to Substack on April Fool’s Day, receiving a cryptic comment from his secret muse, and now driving with her to see her horses feels more miraculous than fate. And yet there is something so natural about spending time with Britt. There is a shimmer of recognition with her, an intimate equidistance. After all, I’ve been reading about her for half my life. And now here she is, in the flesh.

[...] The first thing you notice about her, leading Scout and Jake up a dormant streambed to their stalls, is how novelistic she is. She is a woman of compelling themes, tragic patterns, hooks, plot, question marks. She says things like “Cormac warned me I couldn’t hide forever” and “That was back when we had one eye out for the law.”

[...] That’s the muse for you, full of equine wisdom, horse sense. And while she certainly has a way with words, words also have a way with her, as McCarthy found out in 1976. As do landscapes.

[...] He was 43, she was 17. The image is startling, possibly illegal. At the very least, it raises questions about inappropriate power dynamics and the specter of premeditated grooming. But not to Britt—who had suffered unspeakable violence at the hands of many men in her young life—then or now.

[...]One measure of fame is how suddenly cognizant one becomes of the looming biographer, archivist, or graduate student peering over posterity’s shoulder at your personal correspondence. But McCarthy began writing his love letters to Britt when he was out of print, and they brim with an unusual voice—that of Cormac McCarthy in true love’s perfect candor. They’re less like sketches for a painting and more like confessionals. They are written by a man infatuate.

For the first few days of my stay in Tucson, the letters sit in the same Converse shoebox they’ve been stored in since the ’70s. I’ve been giving them a wide berth. To a McCarthy fan, they’re like the Holy Grail. It somehow doesn’t feel right reading the blue ink meant for her blue eyes. What will they be like? Joyce’s encrusted epistles to Nora? Nabokov’s letters to Véra? Or more like letters to a Lolita?

[...] We can expect a writer to be different in person than on the page, but Cormac was very different on the page to Augusta. He was clearly in love, clearly “gone on the subject” of her, from the start. He ends each letter with an “I love you” or something synonymous. (He ends the ones after their romance cooled the same way.) But what we appear to have with lines about pressing “my face between your thighs” is a writer with his nose pressed into the pure perfume between the open thighs of a book.

Then, sometime in the ’80s, McCarthy sends her the manuscript for All the Pretty Horses. “The first thing I see, obviously, is the title. And I thought, Oh my gosh. I started reading it, and it’s just so full of me, and yet isn’t me. It was so confusing. Reading about Blevins getting killed was so sad. I cried for days. And I remember thinking to myself that being such a lover of books, I was surprised it didn’t feel romantic to be written about. I felt kind of violated. All these painful experiences regurgitated and rearranged into fiction. I didn’t know how to talk to Cormac about it because Cormac was the most important person in my life. I wondered, Is that all I was to him, a trainwreck to write about?

“I was trying so hard to grow up and to fix what was broken about me. I still thought I could be fixed. And this felt the opposite of fixing me."

[knight-says-nanana]

An analysis on Ed’s comic childhood, how that impacted his OCD*, and how that translated to the Gotham TV show

Alternatively: GTV Ed’s Biography

*(and also how it very clearly gave him cptsd but they don’t explicitly Say that bc DC is full of cowards)

Normally I’d say comics don’t impact tv continuity, especially for a show like Gotham where so many things are changed, but the thing is? Cory Michael Smith specifically went out of his way to read the riddler comics when he accepted the role of Ed Nygma. He acted accordingly and did an amazing job trying to salvage the show’s poor writing. There are many tiny moments where he does things that reference Ed’s typical backstory despite the show, in all its 5 seasons, never bringing it up

Childhood wise there are typically two widely accepted routes

1 - his mom was around but neglectful and off her head with drugs n alcohol

2 - his mom left when he was a toddler due to not being able to handle his father anymore, which kinda kickstarted the abuse being focused onto Ed instead

I will be continuing this analysis with #2 because it is the most popular and explains his abandonment issues

Comic Based Childhood

So this guy basically grew up with Only his father. His father who is a dumbass, an alcoholic, blames Ed for his mother leaving, incredibly abusive physically, and couldn’t accept that 1) his kid is smarter than him or that 2) a kid so Weird cough traumatized and neurodivergent cough is anything but an idiot

A major sticking point was that he always thought Ed was lying, constantly, about everything. This will be important later.

And when Ed finally started going to school and getting A’s?? Yeah no Obviously he had to have been cheating so Mr Nashton just got More angry with him. Could Ed have dropped his grades on purpose to avoid this? Yeah. Did he? Absolutely not. Academic success was the one thing he could be proud of and the only thing that gave him any sort of praise or validation. He was clinging to it for dear life.

No matter the universe, this is a guy who craves attention.

There is difference between academic success and school life itself, because Ed is awkward n dorky n, especially at this point in time, anxious n quiet. So he didn’t have friends. In fact it’s usually written as either him having been bullied or being ignored entirely

The boy was not doing ok at all. So understandably he ran away as soon as possible and changed his name.

Now, this is the first point where Gotham’s canon ties into this in a Very interesting way

We know Ed’s official birth year from the ID card in the show. It’s canon. In season one he is 26. We know this. And it’s is insane for a few reasons!!

He is So Much Younger than his coworkers holy shit

Bullock is old enough to be his dad and he’s not nice, no wonder Ed doesn’t like him

He works in forensics. At 26. And he’s implied to have been working there a year or two before Jim joined the precinct.

Now, I had GENUINELY assumed that he was in his 30s like Jim. BECAUSE HE WORKS IN FORENSICS. But no he’s just actually a botched Spencer Reid because he’s 26 in season one.

A degree in forensic science takes 4 years.

If you want a masters it’s an extra 2 years.

Factoring in the time he would’ve needed to spend interning and working just to QUALIFY for a job at the GCPD???

If we assume he ran away n got into college at age 17 and got his bachelor's he’d be 21 by the time he graduated, 23 if he got his masters which of course he would, and then that leaves us only 3 or 1 year/s for internships and stuff before he joins the GCPD. What. What.

No wonder his apartment is so shitty!!! This is a man with hella student loans

But yeah! Hes only 26 and his 40 year old coworkers are bulling him for being weird. I’d hate my job too.

Bullock is 48 and I’m fully convinced he, like me, thinks Ed is at least 32 (Jim’s age) because. What.

So yeah that’s his general backstory, NOW the ways that plays into his mental state and how his actor managed to fit it into the show

So, you can reasonably assume he’s traumatized.

And!? There are so many subtle moments in the show where Cory acts his character accordingly for this. He flinches when people raise their voice, he’s visibly spooked when men in the GCPD get huffy (usually it’s Mr James Anger Issues Gordon). He’s skittish as a mouse. In the watermelon scene, when Gordon busts into the room, Ed immediately falls over himself to explain what he’s doing in there. The guy was terrified. Of James. Who’s never done a thing to him.

Beyond that? CPTSD -beyond the regular symptoms of flashbacks, triggers, and hyper awareness- also includes difficulty regulating emotions, feelings of shame/guilt, and trouble staying in relationships.

Ed Nygma is a damn textbook case. He has meltdowns, he falls into substances, he does ANYTHING but cope when he’s overwhelmed. He is constantly trying to prove he’s smart, there’s a gut deep shame when he doesn’t hold up to genius standards. And you’ve seen his relationships.

Basic info ab OCD: it’s an anxiety disorder and the two main things are obsessive compulsions and intrusive thoughts, both of which are present in Gotham but not handled nearly as well as they are in the comics

Compulsions first!

These tend to stem from subconscious thoughts and people won’t always know Why they have a compulsion but they’re generally a way of preventing a vague yet all consuming Bad Thing.

Now, with Ed one of his major sticking points in comics AND the show is he cannot tell blatant lies, especially not with yes/no answers.

This is part of why he compulsively leaves clues for absolutely everything and tries to be so vague when he is lying. He also jumps through hoops so that he won’t need to lie.

Lying = incredible all consuming dread and anxiety, so he just Doesn’t and uses his little hints and clues as a loophole. Very obviously from his father’s influence.

In the show this is shown multiple times but just for a few:

Lucious asking if Jim is at Ed’s house and when Ed tries to say no he seems almost forced to correct himself

The compulsive clue in “Tom’s” note, even when no one had asked him if he knew anything he still couldn’t keep it entirely to himself. The note is a loophole. Technically he told on himself. They just didn’t figure it out. (Well. Kristen kinda did but denying it aka lying sent him into an anxiety attack the moment she left. So.)

When Sofia Falcone was torturing him to find out where Oswald was, he told her. He just told her via a riddler he knew she didn’t understand! No need to lie!

In the car ride to the docks Oswald also calls him out directly by saying he’s so predictable because he’s driven by obsessive compulsion. This is the most the show acknowledges it.

Beyond his compulsions he’s got explicit intrusive thoughts regarding a few big things. (Should be noted that these tend to drive compulsions but not always.)

being viewed as stupid

Ergo his criminal history just being a big show to prove how smart he is. Again, his fathers influence.

being actually stupid

Not knowing things stresses him out So Bad and he takes it So Personally. He NEEDS to know everything. The world is a puzzle and he is Going to solve it.

Side note: That’s why I do LOVE that Gotham made him a forensics specialist!! He’s always had, to quote a DC podcast where he’s talking to Batgirl “-and you have that terrible all consuming pathology which comples you to find answers” “AnD i HaVe tHaT tErRiBlE aLL cOnsUmiNG PaThOLoGy wHiCh coMpELs mE tO FiNd AnSwErS- Yes.”

Biggest for last: being like his dad

This one is specifically fun because it was almost represented so well. ALMOST. His entire relationship with Kristen was downright molded by it, as shown in the file room anxiety attack. Yes that’s what I’m going to call it.

He is constantly fretting over being like Tom, even when he clearly isn’t because he is disgusted by Tom. No mysoginist is going to see someone with the same thoughts as gross. No guy who thinks women should be “put in their place” is going to have such a physical reaction to hearing that be said. No abusive pos is going to have that reaction at all. At least, not in the way that situation went down or in the way Ed’s afraid of being. We aren’t discussing emotional harm or Nygmobblepot today. But he frets anyway. And if we chose to interpret his riddler hallucination as a Really poor way of representing intrusive thoughts? Yeah. Yeah. His brain is making him panic about doing exactly what he hates so much.

*it should be noted that compulsions are often reinforced by intrusive thoughts. specific example: if he lies he will be saying something wrong, he can not be wrong, everyone is going to think he’s an idiot if he’s wrong. You can see how the two things connect. This applies to the majority of compilations in some way.

Now, a moment where I deviate from discussing what Did happened because I’ll forever mourn this particular writing fuck up:

His thing with Kristen could’ve been perfect. It could’ve been the best live action riddler origin to date. Because this is a guy with OCD who’s very traumatized and would have a strong personal reaction to finding out a friend is facing domestic abuse. That would make his relationships complicated too because of the thought loop it would create off the risk of “turning out to be the type of person he hates” or “what if I hurt her like I was hurt.” That would have been so compelling? AND? AND YKNOW WHAT? MY BIGGEST GRIPE? HIS FIRST PUSH INTO VIOLENT CRIME BEING STABBING AN ABUSER WOULD BE PERFECT. It would be on point. Exceptional foray into crime and murder. BUT THEY DIDNT PLAY IT LIKE THAT. No instead it’s highly tainted by “who gets the girl” and I just. N o. Ugh. They fumbled it!! They fumbled it So Hard. THEY MAKE HIM CREEPY AS FUCK TOWARDS KRISTEN. Like- physically blocking her into small spaces and imposing on her and talking over her when, if they HAD actually leaned into the OCD on purpose, he would probably be hyper aware of not doing.

[lunior-art]

he was too embarrassed to attend class that day but chose to embrace it in the end

[chloesimaginationthings]

Pomni and Gummigoo reunite in TADC!

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[craftforce]

I hope this helps!

for me it’s Hyrule Warriors Link. (I’m actually to make a comic in his era) I donno why I like him tho lol. (He cute)

I think he’s very serious, and when and if he does become non-silent I don’t think he will be a talkative person.

Also would not expect him to trust EVERYONE since A LOT of his soldiers betrayed him

Kind, gentle to people in need, and strong (physically and mentally)

After game I think he’s more… matured and thoughtful. before, I think he was more… reckless, but idk this just me.

Lana CLEARLY had a crush on Link but I think he knew a little about it, but I do not think he and his Zelda get together.

he was pretty curious in his game for example GIF:

I love that he’s like: Wtf are u?

Okay Link fans I need help. I have my Link/Zelda game that I’m specifically fixated on (that being Wind/Wind Waker), but I want to be able to write/understand other Links with the same amount of care that I give to him.

So if anyone who sees this post has a Link who is their favorite little guy (you’ve played his game(s) multiple times, you’ve made a bunch of headcanons about him, you think about him all the time, etc etc), I want to hear your perspective on that Link. I wanna know what you think his general personality is. I wanna know what you think he was like pre-journey(s). I wanna know how you think his journey(s) affected his development. I wanna know how you think the themes of his game(s) intertwine with his character. I wanna know how you view his significant relationships. And I wanna know anything else about him that you would like to share. Any information/ideas are appreciated, just absolutely go off ^_^

[anniilaugh]

”So.. somebody forgot to mention it’s their birthday, huh.” 💚💛

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 4: Haunted