#i drew the same amount of drawings that there are days in the year of 2024!

[ravangie]

Before I post The Tulia and Miguella lore, I have to get serious for a sec

As you probably already know, I've spent many years in denial of my sexuality, hoping that maybe one day it will just go away, making my life a lot easier. I never even allowed myself to draw women, scared that somehow, through the way I draw them, people will see the love that I feel for them. And one fatefull day, when I was on the verge already, I finally got the guts to admit to myself that I am a lesbian and drew Tulia and Miguella.

Tulia and Miguella were the bridge that helped me confess about my feelings to the world. Because canonically in the movie the protagonists are not a romantic couple. So I could draw them together without giving their relationship any concrete meaning, even though everything was pretty obvious to the knowing eye. Gradually, with every drawing, I was becoming braver and braver. Tulia and Miguella were getting closer. Eventually I drew Chel, who was still a lady, despite some people expecting a genderbent version. I created Princess Charming, Miss Shrek, and only a while later I drew them with Rapunzel and Fiona - still being their female selves. Until finally I was able to openly say that yes, Tulia and Miguella are in love. And I made them this way because I wanted to. Because I am this way as well.

So as you can imagine Tulia and Miguella mean the world to me.

And I count on you all to treat these ladies with the same amount of respect as I do. Ok?

[loveleetoons]

[First] [Prev] - [Next] Journey Thru June Day 08 - Sticky Situation The bubbling boba cauldron rumbles from side to side before suddenly stopping. Something emerges. It grows large and larger, encompassing Isabelle in its shadow. Its a-- Its a--- Its a large boba wedding cake. Its an ANGRY large boba wedding cake.

[texasflowers]

I'd like to take a moment to reply to a couple tags

@nmzuka i did that for you I'm glad you noticed🫶 also always thankful you enable me when it comes to my OCs HAHA. Honestly you've been the one constant in this fandom to me I truly consider you a pillar of the community. Perhaps even ARMS fandom's MVP. Here's to more ARMSiversaries!!

@cuterozhok Thank youuu!! I made the (overly ambitious) decision to include my OCs in this pic alongside the main cast of official charas bc for me they are half the reason I stuck beside this game so long! For 6 consecutive years I've just had so much fun making characters to fit in this game's world enough that despite other people always coming and leaving I was always just happy to draw them for myself even if no one was watching ☺️ It provided me with a way to stay engaged despite no content (from Nintendo) and no other fans to talk to (most of my friends had long since moved on) So yeah! I just felt like I needed to pay some tribute to my OCs too. TY again!

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

-----------------------

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

[crescenthistory]

Carina the woman-lover, would you please indulge us by arguing for prompt A17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with Miss Lily Evans?

hello?? this is the only way i will be addressed from now on, thank you for that darling! i made this a shower door instead of a mirror, hope you don't mind:,)

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with lily evans

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: gn!reader, use of y/n, non-sexual nudity, marriage, happily ever after domestic vibes, lily is shorter than you because my lily hc is that she is shorter than everyone

wc: 761

There was once a time where you were genuinely concerned that you might fall out of love with Lily Evans after graduation.

The voices around you had gotten in your head, explaining that Hogwarts romances were limited to the walls of the castle, that it was the intrigue of proximity, of different houses, of Hogsmeade getaways that kept you tied together. Lily was your best friend before you ever got the courage to ask her out, and the thought of losing that made you lose sleep more than once. The amount of nights you had spent in the Astronomy Tower was, pardon the pun, astronomical – but at least it got you a new friend in the elusive Regulus Black who also frequented the tower at night. 

Despite nothing in your relationship suggesting trouble on the horizon, you were biting the skin off your nail beds in your final weeks at Hogwarts. What you had was so beautiful, so it must surely be fragile too, right?

Now you were brushing your teeth in your shared bathroom with Lily in the shower, laughing at the thought of it.

Your love was no less fragile than the walls of the flat you rented together after Hogwarts, the same one you were still happily living in years after. Lily had a full time position as a potionologist through the Ministry, developing methods of introducing lifesaving healing magic to muggle children without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. She was every bit the powerhouse of a woman you knew her to be when you fell in love. You thrived in your own dream occupation with Lily cheering you on as equal parts best friend and partner. 

Just outside your bathroom you had the Floo Network set up in your fireplace that connected to the flat Mary, Marlene and Dorcas shared, Remus and Sirius’ home and Potter Manor where James now lived with Regulus.

Oddly enough, your little family never was torn apart. After all the tragedies and pains, it became such a beautiful life.

You spit out the toothpaste in the sink one final time before rinsing your toothbrush and looking up in the mirror. Only then did you realise you were smiling, which in turn made you smile harder.

You heard a squeaking sound over your shoulder and turned around to see Lily wiping away some of the fog on the shower glass door to catch a glimpse of you. Her hands were in her hair, white shampoo coursing through red hair. 

“What are we smiling about? Have you had your coffee already?” She called loudly over the water, teasing laughter following her words.

You stuck your tongue out at her as you leaned back against the counter to work on your own hair. “Can’t I just be content, Evans?”

She hummed as if she was considering it. “Not for as long as you call me by the wrong name.”

Your grin hurt your cheeks. “My apologies, Lily Evans-L/N, it will never happen again.”

The glass was already almost entirely fogged up again, Lily becoming a distorted figure through the haze, but you caught her smile and heard her laugh over the thundering water. You could just barely see the splatter of freckles across her milky back, your fingers aching to stay home and count them all day.

You took a moment to look at her, to breathe in the smell of your hair products mixing with her body wash in the humid air, the makings of a home.

The squeaking sound came once more as Lily’s pointer finger came up to draw a rather large heart near the top of the shower door. Within it, she drew her and your initials on each side of a plus sign. Beneath it, she wrote your wedding date. You could find the remnants of that heart after each shower she took, a well-ingrained ritual.

It was a beautiful, domestic sight – just like the woman enjoying her morning while rubbing her love in your face.

“That’s it,” you murmured under your breath before walking over and cracking the shower door open.

Lily shrieked a laugh as you opened it, pretending to hide away behind the stream of water from the shower head. Luckily, you had yet to get properly dressed and didn’t care if your bathrobe got wet as you reached out for her cheek. You had finished fixing your face for the day, but you didn’t mind messing it up one bit as you brought her in across the water stream for a sweet and searing kiss.

Her lips moulded perfectly against yours, not any less than they did at Hogwarts – perhaps even more so.

Lily hummed against your lips, smile widening beneath your affection. “I love you,” she whispered, careful to place her hands on the shower door for leverage and not on you. 

You looked down at her with nothing short of a lovestruck expression. “And I love you, you little minx.” 

Another kiss, as loving as it was wet. 

You couldn’t really ask for a better way to start your day.

[kingqueensoobscene]

General headcanons for Blu!Scout x reader

Hello everyone!! I hope you had a happy new year!! I want to start a new series where I make headcanons for characters I haven’t written for yet to show you my interpretations of them. This is the first, please enjoy!

-I like to believe that unlike the Red Scout, he is much more experienced or gifted at killing. In the “Meet the Spy” video, which I know is Spy disguised as Scout, but Heavy bought it and he’s canonically a smart cookie, he says he has killed plenty of spies as if it was just like driving a car. And he is very cocky about it. When he has to clear a room, he doesn’t speak. His mind is focused for once; gauging the situation. You get whiplash from how quickly he can go from hyper focused to the annoying prick you know and love.

-He has saved your hide plenty of times. You’ve saved his too. Having had a couple of enemy knives to your throat only for their heads to get blown off by Scout with his Babyface. 

“You alright, gorgeous?”  He would ask.

“Yeah,” he extended his hand down to you, “Thanks.” 

“On your feet, babe! Let’s go!” 

-He looks physically different from Scout in subtle ways. Their uniform is the same and they both wear dog tags, but Blu Scout has dirty blonde hair and green eyes. Blu started the hand wraps thing, which the Red Scout would copy because he thought it looked cool, because he would get his knuckles scraped as he has a habit of breaking his fall with his fist when sped across the field. The same long face as the Red Scout, just with bushier eyebrows. He also has freckles (I totally stole that from Lil Pootis). He also has a resting passive aggressive face, he looks unamused.

-He is diagnosed with OCD and experiences intrusive thoughts. It’s funny because he is good at staying calm in situations, but will think about them later on. But he likes to keep his worries to himself. He worries that something really bad will happen to you or himself one day; such as the respawn machine stops working and he won’t see you or Ma ever again. You have had to help him through a panic attack a few times, but he hates when you find him like that. He tries to get you out the door and lock himself in. He smokes to help his anxiety, but obviously, it makes his heart beat faster, making him worse and only helping temporarily. He will try and hide it from you, but you can taste it on his breath when you kiss. 

-He does not leave you without a kiss on the cheek or the lips. He’s more than fine with PDA too and he always holds your hand or if someone else needs you to get out of the way and he notices, he gently moves you by the waist. He gets cocky about it to the other mercenaries. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know you guys are jealous. I got the finest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on and they chose me! Suck it!” 

Literally no one is paying attention.

-He takes note of everyone he has to work with. Though he can read and spell better than Red, he’s not great at writing and can’t get all of his ideas organized, so he draws what he notices about the others. For example, Spy keeps a picture of a young boy in his disguise kit and so, Scout drew Spy looking at the picture in the open kit in his left hand while the right dragged a smoke. They are amazing sketches that he never finishes. He only colors in hair or darker materials. He has so many sketches of you that he keeps in his desk drawer. If you compiled the amount of drawings he had of you, it would qualify as an anatomical study. 

-Wakes up super early. Can never sleep either due to his anxiety or his add. He will wake you up early whenever he does. Not usually when he is having an anxiety spell, he doesn’t like dragging you into that despite accidentally waking you up multiple times. He has a smoke, then makes you coffee, however you like, he will remember, wakes you up and makes sure you don’t fall back asleep. He will just keep pestering you until you stubbornly stay awake. He’s annoying and he knows it. If you don’t feel like talking, which is understandable since you’re up at 3:30, he will chat about the team or his life back in Boston.

-He has a thing for sweet treats. He always likes to take you out to the bakery just outside of the base and get you two a milkshake and some cake slices. The first time you two went, it was about 2 months into your relationship. You have not gone out of the Builder’s League since you got there, so Scout took you! It was a small little dinner that was rimmed with cherry red and a neon blue “OPEN” sign. He held the door for you.

“M’baby.” 

You seated yourself and grabbed the menus from the end of the table. You looked at all of the options, mostly the pastries. 

“I’m gonna get a malt. Ya want one, dollface?” 

“Sure, thank you!” You smiled.

The counter was a light pink, lined with a checkered, black-and-white belt wrapped around it. When he came back, he had a slice of pie, your pastry and one milkshake.

“I thought you got me one too?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” he handed you a bendable straw, “here ya go!” 

He put his red striped straw in the whipped cream and took a sip. 

“We’re sharing?” You laughed, flabbergasted.

“Isn’t that what couples do?” 

You chuckled. “You dork.”

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 58

Hey remember when randomly a couple days ago in the event I mentioned that one of these days makes me irrationally angry??? Yeah this is the one. 

So context for this one is that in the danganronpa section of a server I’m in someone asked a question around the lines of-

“Who is your favorite character for a Mastermind AU?”

Nowadays if you asked me, I’m very fond of the Mastermind AU I drew for Toko and Komaru during Tokomaru Week this year, and it’d probably be my answer nowadays.

However if you asked Jem from several months ago, who was brainrotted to absolute hell over these two to the point that she could barely form an opinion on other characters (don’t worry I fixed that issue in my brain, kinda), you know damn well her instant response was Mikan.

At first it was kind of a non-serious filler answer because I didn’t have anyone else who piqued my interest for that at the time. Arguably at first I wasn’t even interested in Mastermind Mikan initially. And then my brain saw I was apathetic to it and was like “Hold my drink” before it spiraled into an AU, which I of course would then use for Day 58 at the time. 

I drew up a character design and some basic details in a total rush, and then drew a really basic but cute enough image of the two alongside various headcanons for this version of the relationship. I actually intended to draw a bonus image of the two on their own just because I felt like I was kinda scamming ya’ll if I didn’t. However I have like, none of the time for that on my hands right now, I’m JUST starting to learn Web Design at the time of writing this. If people like this enough I might try and actually draw some proper art of this AU again though.

As for why this day makes me angry, uhhhh yeah no it’s completely irrational. I have no justification in the slightest I just know that every time i scroll past this  one while looking through the folder of Junkan art for the project I just get annoyed.

I’m actually really happy with the Mastermind Mikan design, might be a biiiit overdesigned? But let’s be real if we’ve learned anything over the course of whatever the hell you’d call this project, it’d be that I am nothing if not a woman of pure excess, especially within the small realm of this ship. 

Okay so hi this is Jem from like, slightly in the future. And when I say slightly I mean like 20 minutes ahead of the previous paragraph. 

So I drew a Monokuma for this AU. Something I didn’t do for my Mastermind Tokomaru AU. I kind of had the idea for a Mikan version of Monokuma in my head for a decent amount of time, partially because I also want to do some art of Mikan and Junko in Shiro/Kurokuma cosplays later (yeah sorry spoilers there is no shiro or kurokuma representation in this project. But worry not, UDG does have representation, muuuuuch later). That made me think about how Shirokuma does kind of have similarities to Mikan (i think, it’s been awhile), which made me realize that monokuma but purple sounded neat. So there’s this now.

I imagine that Junko would still be voicing this version from behind the scenes. Partially because unless it’s literally an Ultimate Voice Actor Mikan AU there’s no way she can do that for a whole killing game. The other reason is I just kind of imagine that Mikan would take a similar role to Tsumugi, being both a member of the killing game and the mastermind, rather than what Junko did where she faked her death and orchestrated from behind the scenes without suspicions. Also yes this would mean that Junko is behind the scenes as normal, just that this time she’s solely focused on managing Monokuma. The Control Room is directly connected to Mikan’s room for easy, non-suspicious access to all the mechanisms. And also so the two of them can cuddle at night, obviously. 

Oh yeah with this Monokuma Redesign I would probably also change Mikan’s hair pin to reflect the same color scheme, even if I do like the way it looks with normal Monokuma colors. I would also probably make a “normal” Mikan design for this version. Just tone back certain parts of it to give the illusion that she isn’t the mastermind. Y’know, for the game that will totally exist based off this au, definitely. 

Honestly I think rambling about it has made me soften up on this one a bit, for now at least. So for real I might try and draw more of this AU regardless of whether people want it or not. That said y’know, if you DO want more of it feel free to say so cause that will in fact give me some mild motivation lol.

Oh I guess last thing. When I first showed the initial Reference image of this Mikan to friends one of them pointed out that I accidentally made her plan into, what is essentially the American Healthcare System. I swear to god that wasn’t intentional but it did make me laugh. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[cripplecharacters]

I've been working on a world since 2019 and a few characters have had disability aides that are, like, full arms (haven't done legs yet for some reason, maybe because i drew a Lot of halfbody things for a while) but i have a dilemma that I'd like some advice on

so when a character is amputated/born missing a limb in my world they can choose to keep the amputation as is, or choose to get a 'robot arm' for lack of a better term. they aren't very advanced in technology in the usual way, but everything is kind of shifted to the left. it's been thousands of years and VHS players survived, but the video output hasn't, so now they have reprogrammed them to connect to lazers that show on the top of the box. they also tried cars (a very safe model that ran on water) but stopped once a couple died in a crash. they like pick and choose what they work on i guess

but! the disability part of this is: would it be alright if i have them create a synthetic limb that connects to their nerves (a VERY careful process) so it can still act like an abled limb, or would this just br a cop-out 'magic robot arm that is just like the flesh arm'? there are also alternatives to the ability aides as well; someone can get extremely tall mantis-like legs or get special made claws or whatever makes the person happy. i have a character i always think about with this since she's a tattoo artist that was born with her left arm amputated from the shoulder. so she could use the 'robot arm' to do the tattooing and use her other hand to hold the client still and move them around, but i don't want it to be the 'magic limb' thing again

if this is way too wordy you are more than welcome to tell me to try again, i am sorry, i just want to make sure everything is on the table and makes sense. hope you're having a lovely day/night!

Hello, thank you for your ask!

Note while we don’t have any amputee mods, I live with metal implants and will draw from that lived experience.

If you were to have a prosthetic limb be able to act just like a natural limb, it would fall into the ‘perfect prosthetic’ trope. This kind of character design isn’t disability representation, it’s just for the sake of aesthetic. Here are posts we’ve reblogged on the subject by amputees, I’d recommend looking at them [link] [same post but video format] [link]. These posts go much more into living with prosthetics, what to think about when making an amputee character and tropes to avoid that I ever could. If you really want the cool aesthetic of having a human with awesome robot parts, make an android/robot instead! You get all the cool visuals without peddling myths about disabled people that a surprising amount of people really believe.

As for having a character with an arm prosthetic that’s a tattoo machine, I think it’s fine! I’ve seen real world examples of that exact thing [link]. Just know it won’t act as a hand holding a tattoo machine, it’ll be stiff and to adjust the angle your character will either move their arm or manually adjust with their hand.

There is real world work on making prosthetics that connect to nerves, so I’ll talk about that as well. In previous posts we’ve talked about how most arm amputees don’t like wearing prosthetics since they tend to be heavy, uncomfortable and difficult to use, and that’s especially true for mechanical prosthetics. This article on the subject [link] [video that goes a bit more into it] shows a real world example of exactly the kind of prosthetic you’re talking about, though notably with zero feedback from the people who have one. It briefly touches on how the weight may be uncomfortable, how it needs frequent readjustments and practice from both the technicians and amputee to do things like pick up a block, and how the nerve sensors in it are dull, but I imagine that’s only a small bit of the real story. From personal experience, once a nerve is severed it is extremely difficult to ‘wake it up,’ and in some cases may be impossible. It took months of physical and occupational therapy for me to get back small motions and any physical sensation, and for a long time after that what I could feel changed from nothing to either dull, buzzy discomfort or electrical pain. Not to mention the metal implanted in the person for it to work would hurt [plus these kinds of prosthetic implants that go into the bone have a high failure rate due to the very increased risk of getting an infection, as the implant is both inside and outside the body]. If it gets too cold, if the air pressure changes, and just sometimes randomly metal implants become painful, and I’ve yet to meet anyone with implants with a different experience.

Essentially, using this kind of prosthetic would be extremely difficult and would also be painful and uncomfortable, and any character with one would need to be very dedicated, not to mention have a lot of spare time to dedicate to learning to use it and money to afford it, it’s surgeries and the frequent appointments to get it to work.

I hope this helps!

Mod Rot

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?

I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.

So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.

Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.

Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.

Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.

Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.

So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.

They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.

Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.

I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.

But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?

I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.

I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.

What are these acronyms?

[pillow-anime-talk]

his talented baby. {pt.2}

synopsis: You as a person with a huge (and hidden) talent, and also a person who really surprises your boyfriend.

# tags: scenarios; current relationships; romance; some comedy; big fluff; some PDA; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. sebastian michaelis & undertaker {kuroshitsuji} + josuke higashikata & rohan kishibe {jojo 4}

part one {click}

— SEBASTIAN (ft. chess)

Sebastian was perfect in everything; in cleaning, in cooking, in playing various instruments, in foreign languages, in gardening, even in singing and dancing. There was, however, one thing he couldn’t achieve fully well, and that was the game of chess.

Of course, he defeated others (I mean here; Grell, Agni, Bald or Finny) with ease, but when you offered him a game one day, his so far intact worldview changed dramatically. Eventually he found someone better than himself, but at the same time he felt so damn frustrated that he couldn’t win against your person. You were better than him, than Ciel, and even better than Mr. Tanaka, who was almost equal to him and the young lord.

“... Your move, Sebastian.” You announced by moving the bishop to the field of your choice, taking his black rook at the same time. “Are you going to give up, my love?” You smiled gently as you took a sip of delicious English tea with the perfect amount of sugar. The man looked at you in response, frowning and looking at the chess alignment after a short while.

“No. Everything is fine, I just need to think for a moment.” He said calmly, though his face expression seemed to hide the urge to swear. “I am impressed with how quickly you made such a confusing setup, darling.”

“Well, well. My grandpa taught me to play. As the saying goes, the student has surpassed the master.” You chuckled as you put your chin on your right hand while looking at the fingers of your man surrounded by white gloves, who decided to move the king to space F5. “Maybe someday you will surpass me, who knows?”

Sebastian stared at you out of the corner of his eye, nodding in delicate, almost invisible amusement.

“Maybe someday, dear. For now, I will give you the honorable title of the best chess player.”

— UNDERTAKER (ft. drawing)

Drawing has been your passion since you remember and you loved to paint literally everything; still life, nature, huge landscapes, other people, animals, and even things that didn’t make much sense (Picasso was one of your biggest inspirations when it came to cubism). In addition, in your bag you always carried your favorite blue sketchbook in which you drew tiny thoughts or things you noticed while walking, working or drinking coffee in a cafe.

That day, however, you were sitting quietly on one of the chairs in the funeral parlor, and the Undertaker was also sitting nearby – he was writing names with concentration, calculating in his mind the number of deaths in the last month and year.

His calm face was really handsome from your perspective; the faint light of the lantern caressed his pale complexion, and his green eyes full of mischief stood out behind his fair hair. Every now and then you glanced at the tall man, then your eyes focused again on the small notebook whose pages were blank. I mean, they were not all empty; some of them had sketches of dogs on them, others sketches of flowers, and others featured the figure of a tall Grim Reaper.

When you finished your illustration, you smiled and nodded, satisfied with your work. A beautiful play of light, self-confident pencil strokes and small additions in the form of ivy and rosemary beautifully composed the whole black-grey picture of Adrian.

“Excause me, darling...?” You whispered hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt his work. Nevertheless, the man quickly looked in your direction and a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, my little flower.” He asked, instantly standing up and forgetting about the paperwork – you were definitely more interesting than the dead, after all. You showed him your drawing with a slight blush on your face and he opened his mouth in slight shock. “It’s me?” You nodded, and the Grim Reaper just chuckled. “Am I really THAT handsome?” He joked and you just rolled your both eyes. A short time later, Undertaker praised your talent, asking if you’d like to hang some of your sketches on the board next to the entrance.

— JOSUKE (ft. playing drums)

More than five years ago, you and your three friends started a music band. Since then, you’ve been focused on making your dreams come true, on small concerts played in the Morioh, on school performances, also on learning notes and practicing singing. You were the drummer and leader of ‘CR△WL’; your vast musical knowledge, willingness to develop your passion and daily rehearsals aroused great admiration from the rest of the band and from people who watched your slowly growing career. Of course, Josuke was no exception, on the contrary – he considered himself your biggest and most faithful fan, who with the greatest pleasure went on dates with you to music shops or bookstores with records of old bands.

The young man was delighted every time you played the instrument – just like years ago in your garage when you first played ‘Paranoid’ by Black Sabbath for him. He was smitten and would come over to your house to listen to your covers or help you make a video for your YouTube channel (you were pretty popular for tutorials, trivia, and drum videos).

“...Y/N, Y/N. Would you be able to play this song?”

That day, Josuke visited your house once again. Your mom made you two some snacks, and you grinned as you practiced another song for an upcoming concert at one of the smaller festivals this summer. Your boyfriend seemed to be excited like never before, so you asked what is the title of mentioned song. Hearing the familiar words, you just smiled, nodding your head in response.

Instantly, your both hands and right foot began to beat the drums, which making the dark-haired teenager’s face look very surprised.

“Y/N... You really know every song on this planet!”

— ROHAN (ft. rapping)

Karaoke, bowls full of ice cream and fruit, carbonated drinks, hot snacks and great company were what you’ve been missing for the last few weeks. Focused on studies and work, you didn’t have time to rest properly; but you finally met with your closest friends and you also took Rohan with you.

You had a great time gossip with besties who talked about changes in their lives and new achievements, for example, at work. You were telling about your experiences as well with a huge smile, while Rohan was sitting right next to you, talking to some people from time to time. He wasn’t interested in large gatherings, but he couldn’t say ‘No’ to you either because you were too sweet that evening.

Suddenly, one of Cardi B’s songs was played in the background and you almost squealed.

“Ooooh, I see that someone want to sing, huh?” The blonde haired girl asked, and you just laughed, thanking her for the black microphone.

Rohan almost spit at his new shirt as soon as you started rapping the verses without any problems, without even looking at the screen where the lyrics were displayed. You had a great time dancing a bit in the middle of the small room. You looked at your partner with a smirk, sometimes sending a kiss or wink in his direction. You were literally in your world; you showing your energy and love for music so perfectly.

Rohan was really surprised.

[lgbtransgirl]

we're all big fans of warframe in here (got properly hooked with umbra's story and been hooked ever since). rhino is one of our go-to frames too ;)

what drew you to warframe? what keeps you coming back?

What drew me to Warframe was "Ooo new free game" when I was 13 and poor lol. Strap in because this is a long one

TLDR, the love and effort the Devs put into the game and how F2P friendly the game is is what kept drawing me back in.

Every time since those first few days though, I've looked at Warframe and thought "Wow, an almost completely customizable free game experience with no pay-to-win and the ability to play with your friends!"

I ended up taking a few big breaks from the game for one reason or another, I've been playing since 2014. Every time I come back to see the amount of love DE puts into the game and how much more there is to do, how much more fun the game becomes, I could go on.

A free game that offers the power fantasy of being a cool space ninja warrior thing and mowing down armies representing the exact injustices we see mirrored in the real world was something that 13 year old me really, really needed.

And it felt infinitely repeatable. I had no competitive meta to keep up with, so the "grind" wasn't a challenge or a chore. I just liked seeing how far I could go in defense and survival (my record is 3 hours on V Prime). I've spent nearly 400 just mining and fishing alone in the open worlds because something about it is just so engaging and entertaining. I loved the challenge, and I loved the progression cycle.

And the characters! Ordis is hilarious, Lotus is a broken, plural, and caring mother figure. Eudico and the rest of Fortuna, the Hex, they're all so three dimensional and the writing is master class! The lore reveals itself from a tangled web of confusion into a genuine story of loss, pain, and a big ol bag of injustices that you end up facing and conquering head on. Not alone, but with the people around you. The Lotus to guide you, Little Duck to help you commit theft, Cy to help you pilot, and Teshin to guide you through the paradox, and Entrati to confuse the hell out of you.

When I finally discovered how to get new Warframes about a year into playing I kept testing a lot of frames to see who I could go the farthest with because I kept dying. I finally settled on Rhino, the tankiest tank to ever tank. That's when I REALLY got into the game. There is a Warframe for every play style, same for weapons. I just hit +8mil damage on my Kuva Tonkor.

Eventually, around the time I started having a disposable income, I realized the real monetization model of the game. One so good that you *want* to put money into it to support the devs. So I did. I've spent probably ~$500 on the game in total. And yes, I bought the Rhino Heirloom Pack the day it came out.

I could go on, but it anyone who plays knows what I'm talking about. Anyone who doesn't, well I encourage you to give it a try. After all, it's free! What's the worst that could happen?

However, for the love of god DE can we change Rhinos passive or let us scale with Warframe mods???

[eightfifteen]

I'm reading this book right now and it's as if someone took Every Breaking Wave (my byler fanfic), reshaped it and perfect it. It's so good!!!

If you want something that reads like Stranger Things with a focus on Byler, or if you've simply already read every Byler fic on AO3 and are slowly losing your mind, Don't Let The Forest In by G.C. Drews is a must-read.

Basically it's about these two boys at boarding school who have been friends since they were twelve. Andrew is in love with said best friend, Thomas, and last year something happened with Andrew, which has everyone walking on egg shells around him, but everyone's very vague about it. And on the first day back for senior year, after a summer of almost no contact due to Thomas' abusive parents breaking his phone, it turns out Thomas' parents have gone missing the night before, leaving behind huge amounts of blood, and Thomas as the person of interest.

At the same time, Andrew starts getting visions of monsters hunting him (literally think that scene with Will in the bathroom, and him running from the mindflayer at school).

If you're not convinced yet; when I tell you it reads like Byler I mean it;

The dynamic between Andrew and Thomas, though the character specifics are different, their dynamic is very similar to Will and Mike, with Andrew the quiet introvert, and Thomas the more angry protective one. Though it definitely goes way deeper in ways I can't put into words.

Andrew has a twin sister and is irrationally convinced Thomas is in love with her. (Literally our queen El represent)

Andrew, as mentioned, is having these visions that make him question his sanity, visions that are also very heavily focused on woods and forests. (I swear there's a scene very similar to the panic attack in the forest scene from EBW)

AND Andrew writes and Thomas drawes the monsters from his stories. (ofc will draws and mike writes but that doesn't matter it's THEM if they let them just BE)

It's so adorable yet dark I love it so much. Do yourselves a favor and go grab it from your nearest library (as I did though I'm definitely ordering a hardcover copy once I have the funds).

[goose-on-the-loose]

The Darkest Hour - Styracosaurs in a Wildfire Paleoart Process Breakdown

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my art on this account (at some point years ago I just forgot to), but I thought that this might be a great opportunity to start posting my art again! This is my first attempt at paleoart, and I think it’s worthy of sharing. It’s for my showcase at my art school, so there were time restraints that stopped me from adding elements that I would’ve liked, but ultimately I’m quite satisfied with it.

For any budding paleoartist (or anybody really) who’d like to see my process, I put it all below the read more! @a-dinosaur-a-day (hope you don’t mind me @/ing you, i originally meant for this post to be an ask but it got too long haha)

I started off knowing that I wanted to depict some kind of ornithischian for a number of reasons. Two of the biggest reasons were that 1) I simply like them more than theropods and sauropods and 2) My senior showcase is all about showing animals in ways that the viewer hasn’t seen them before, and most people don’t really think about ornithischians except for if they’re being preyed on by a theropod.

I then narrowed my choices further by looking at different formations and what species they have. I looked up what formations parasaurolophus was in (since it’s one of my fav dinosaurs and I was thinking of making it my subject) and I saw the dinosaur park formation. Looking at the different species found there and the type of environment they lived in, I knew this formation was going to be my choice. 

I couldn’t narrow it down to one species yet, so I decided to think of some scenarios ornithischians might find themselves in first. I thought, “Oooh, what about some dinosaurs escaping from a wildfire?”, since the storyline could easily be conveyed, the lighting would be interesting, and I could get creative with the composition (flames and burning debris can create arcs to guide the viewer’s eye).

I did some very quick simple thumbnails and sketches to get the feeling and flow of the lines. I saw some paleoart by Marzio Mereggia and I remembered one of his parasaurolophus pieces that I really liked. I also looked at the composition of the fire scene from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron for inspiration. (the tiger doodle had nothing to do with it, i just wanted to draw a tiger) The shapes and silhouettes of these species weren’t really clicking for me, so I looked back on the list and saw styracosaurus. I looked at some paleoart and realized that the silhouette and shapes of their frill and horns could really draw the viewer’s attention.

So, I drew the top thumbnails and showed them to my teacher. He liked all of them, but especially liked the middle one, so I drew a larger version of it, making sure to elevate the best parts and communicate the story. I like to use highlighters when thumb-nailing because it helps me break down the background, middleground, and foreground while also giving attention to the focal points. I was satisfied with this layout, so I drew an even larger version of it that would be the same size as the piece of wood I would be painting on.

I wanted to add more dimension so I changed the placement a bit. I don’t have much to say on this one, except for the final project has less background detail because each piece in our showcase has to be finished within a certain amount of time, this is also why the adult styracosaurus doesn’t have scale detail. I would’ve liked to add it, but I have to be realistic with my time.

I then drew the sketch on the piece of wood, and then my teacher cut the excess wood off.

Painted the background and also changed the shape of the face horn to be more accurate. I believe that styracosaurus’ horns changed with age and each individual’s grew in their own slightly different way. I do regret not pushing the dark ground colors further back.

Started trying to figure out the colors in class here.

Did this all the next day, took about 6-7 hours. 3 during class and the rest in my dorm. I changed/added to the rest of the face colors later, but the beak stays the same. I still really like the way I painted the beak.

This was after 3 more hours of class time. I changed the face horn color and made the frill horns match it. I also started focusing more on highlights and shadows. This is the last photo I took during the process.

With the final version, you can see that I warmed up the highlights to match the fire and I dulled them out too (adding yellow to purple desaturates it). I also went over the background again, making the colors more vivid and adding a glow to the fire. Ngl I do regret not adding that glow to the fire on the trees, but oh well. Live and learn ig.

[flowerandblood]

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (11) (End)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, drinking blood, violence ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Their nuptials in a small church in London were modest and without many witnesses, only in the presence of Criston and her parents. Mr Whaterfield was not thrilled about this, he had hoped that with the kind of fortune he owned the arranged ceremony would be held with pomp so that he could later boast about it to his friends in Mantfield.

Aemond knew, however, that even such an amount of people around was frightening to his future wife.

Her mother thought she was pale from stress and fear, but they both knew that the reason was different. He felt a kind of pride when he looked at her, pride that she had fought so bravely against herself and her desire. She had a stronger will than him, he when he was going through the same thing as her murdered anyone who stood in his way.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a bright Victorian gown with buff sleeves, her hair pinned back in a tight bun with braids either side of her head, daisies tucked into her curls. She wasn't looking at him, just at some point in front of her, absent-minded and thoughtful.

He suffered looking at her, suffered knowing that this was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, that she was supposed to be a mother and a wife, she was supposed to be able to grow old and pass away in peace, and she was condemned to an eternity filled with an everlasting, monstrous, never-quenching desire.

She was condemned to it because of him.

Nevertheless, she spoke the words of her vow. She looked into his eyes then, and he saw pain, suffering, regret in her gaze. He understood each of these feelings and took them in, hoping in the back of his mind that perhaps in a few hundred years she would forgive him.

After a short wedding dinner they went upstairs together, but their wedding night had been a bloody one, after a day in which his, now Mrs Targaryen, had had to clench her teeth to avoid killing anyone, she had literally thrown herself at him as soon as the door closed behind them, pressing him to the ground, digging into his neck so brutally that he hissed in pain.

He squeezed his eyelids shut, stroking her hair, her neck, whispering that it was all right now, that she was so brave, that she had done so well. He could feel her tears on his skin, could feel her sobbing between raspy, loud gulps. When she finally released him and rose on her knees, looking up at him, her entire chin and her white gown were in blood.

It was a truly gruesome sight, but one that for some reason aroused his desire.

She felt it as she sat on top of him, felt his manhood pulsate beneath her hungrily, clamouring for weeks to get closer to her, yearning for her touch.

He drew in a loud breath and groaned throatily as he felt her hips begin to press against him, massaging him with back and forth movements, slow, deliberate, her mouth slightly open.

"I need this." She whispered helplessly, her cheeks wet with tears.

Their rapprochement was a mixture of their wetness and blood, biting each other and then drinking their blood from each other's mouths, licking and sucking their lips together, her thighs in his hands responding to each of his aggressive thrusts that stretched her fleshy, throbbing walls. They were both panting, aroused by this macabre act, her hands clenched in his hair drawing him close.

"− I want to drink only you − cum only in you −" He breathed out into her throat between the dance of their tongues and teeth, licking a trickle of his own blood from the corner of her mouth.

She moaned loudly at his words, felt her walls clench tighter against him and he made an almost animalistic, low sound, rising up on his knees, fucking her with all the strength he had in his hips with a loud click of their shared moisture.

"− husband should care about his wife − about her fulfillment − don't you agree, Mrs Targaryen? −" He hissed accelerating, her body arched backwards in front of him, the old wooden bed creaking loudly with each of his thrusts.

"− yes −" She mewled, even if she wanted to hate him, right now, at this moment, she couldn't do it, she longed for him and the pleasure he was giving her, her insides clenching tighter and tighter against his length.

"− fuck −" He growled, feeling her sudden, intense fulfilment, she cried so loudly that he had to cover her mouth not wanting it to be heard by her parents sleeping a few rooms away.

Although it was their wedding night, he wasn't sure if they had ever experienced anything similar to what he had just endured with his wife.

"− god − yes −" He exhaled as if relieved, letting go at last and coming inside her, his thrusts messy and sloppy from their shared juices running down her buttocks onto their sheets.

When he finally stopped moving he looked up at her, breathing deeply. She stared at him, her lips parted, her gaze impenetrable.

"Tell me what you're thinking about." He whispered, and she pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly.

Her trembling hand reached up uncertainly and touched his cheek, he hummed with delight, closing his healthy eye.

"That I can't." She said quietly and he opened his eyelid immediately, feeling a squeeze in his heart and an uncertainty filling him, his heart began to pound like mad in his chest.

"You can't what?" He asked lowly, her bottom lip trembling before she spoke the words.

"Hate you." She whispered and he felt a dryness in his throat, his eyebrows twisted in pain, he felt his eye turn burning and red. "I can't."

He kissed her greedily, tenderly, passionately, the taste of their shared blood melting over his tongue. He felt fulfilled at last, her blood quenching his thirst, he felt that now his mind was clear and sharp as crystal, that he had never been more human than now, with her.

"Don't be in a hurry. Give yourself time. I'll be waiting for you."

They both decided to stay in London. Criston left them after a few months when her condition had improved enough that she could even go out with him for walks among the crowds now. Admittedly, she had to drink his blood before going out, but this gave her a few hours of peace from thirst.

It seemed to him that the better she controlled herself the more often she smiled, joy and contentment returning to her face again. Although she was uncomfortable in the sun and they walked more at night, she tried not to fall into despair.

What comforted her most was the fact that she had not killed any man.

Apart from his blood, she only drank the blood of animals and those that were already dead.

She had come to terms with the thought that they would have no children, that they would spend eternity only with each other, but there was something reassuring in that thought.

It felt as if they both slowed down, enjoying the small things, focusing on the beauty of details and moments, enjoying every second spent with each other. They read together, played chess together, practised fencing.

When her condition was good enough for her to travel somewhere, they visited her parents, causing a huge fuss. They also paid a visit to Criston, who had to admit that she was coping very bravely with what had happened to her.

They went together at night to the chapel where she prayed every night, just as then she took a candle with her even though neither of them needed it anymore to see everything clearly. They sat down next to each other in one of the pews and began to pray together, he taking from his coat pocket the tiny Bible his mother had given him.

He felt his wife lay her head on his shoulder, thoughtful, after a while. He slipped a ribbon into the place where he had finished reading and closed the book, glancing at it out of the corner of his eye. His cold hand touched her skin and she hugged him tighter.

"I knew from the moment I saw you here that you would change my life." She whispered, and he murmured under his breath and kissed her hair, her pleasant scent filling his nostrils.

"I thought the same thing when I saw you, when I smelled you. I nearly killed you then, when you approached me with your candle, that's how great my desire was." He said quietly, playing with her curls, and she lifted her bright eyes to his and smiled. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, parting it slightly, looking at its soft, fleshy texture.

"Your kisses are as sweet as your blood."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn’t tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess 

[benevolentcannibal]

Prefacing this by saying: I’m not a crashout and have never crashed out but sometimes it’s warranted. This being one of those times.

TLDR: @cathiief is a immature loser I have no ill feelings towards but bitch you couldn't mind your own business lmao 🤣

So, I’ve been rp-ing for at least twenty-two years, never really like doing it on tumblr for various reasons; be it making and running a whole new blog, random interactions or cross-over stuff. One of the MAIN reasons I’ve only tried a handful of times is because Tumblr has an EGREGIOUS cliche mentality and it’s the reason for this crash out because I don’t bother anyone, if you’ve ever interacted with me or followed my blog for any amount of time you will know that I keep to myself, never overshare or do this sort of thing. I’m too old for the drama and foolishness that goes on.

That being said, I’m pissed and it takes a LOT to piss me off.

In the last year of rp-ing in the One Piece fandom I’ve had some of the worst experiences in twenty-two years on the internet, let alone rp-ing which is a hobby, for fun, something people forget but come with me and I’ll explain. 

Before One Piece the last time I rp-ed was in the Pacific Rim fandom in 2013, didn’t have a bad experience just drifted away from my blog and I didn’t want to try again until someone that would become my friend reblogged some art I’d done to their rp blog. I didn’t know OP had an active rpc given how long running the series is. Sure it makes sense that it does but I had just finished the Whole Cake Island arch and ended up making an oc like a lot of fans do. This friend rp-ed the siblings and I worked up the nerve to ask them if they wanted to rp. They did, I made a blog and it was fun for months. This post isn’t about that friend. I still talk to them and adore them.  This story is about one (1) person whom I’ve never spoken to and who I believe killed my experience with the OPRPC. We’ll get to her.

So, me and my friend get to talking and we discuss an AU of Sanji staying on Germa because his mutations worked and blah blah I end up making a rp blog for him and we have a blast.  Now, while I was rp-ing with them I saw they favored one particular person, with the number of threads, responses, etc.  Not knowing them for that long I was envious but it didn’t affect our writing or experience. I’m telling you how I felt because as an adult I know it’s silly but a human emotion to feel these things. I’m aware of my feelings and know how to act accordingly. The person this story is about, does not. 

Weeks go on and we’re rp-ing, chatting on discord, having fun and I even start shipping their characters and this person’s character; the character being a Nami. (@cathiief) and yes I’m @ing them because I do not respect them, or care in the slightest. I drew some fanart of Ichiji and Nami, memes because it got me invested in the little stories they had going on. It was fun, it was a part of the experience, I like to make fanart and draw for people I care about. I even gently reached out to the Nami on my Sanji blog at one point to see if they were interested in rp-ing but got no response which is fine. 

Now a few more weeks go by without incident. My friend and I are on discord discussing writing smut of the brothers. Yes, irl incest is bad (it goes without saying obviously) but narrative wise it's a interesting avenue to explore and we're both grown adults. I'm not here to have a proship or anti discussion. My friend makes a small ooc post about how they'll be writing said topic, that it will be under a read more and tagged to be easily ignored. We get to writing and I do the same, content is properly tagged and under a read more. Keep in mind the smut threads are maybe 2% of what we're writing, often posted in the dead of night to be the least intrusive.

A few days go by and I notice the Nami isn't monopolizing my friend's attention with inbox memes or replies. This had been a running thing between them. She would flood my friend with attention, memes, head canon posts, gifsets etc. I asked if they were good because they had been worried about writing the brothers which is why they made the post warning followers. Come to find out the Nami had said that my friend wasn’t giving them enough attention and wanted to end it. I believe they were speaking for a year at that point and had planned end game for the muses, had idk how many threads and exchanged who knows how many dms. All gone overnight. I hear this and feel so awful because beyond the rp hobby it's just a deeply shitty thing to do to someone that's your friend. I didn't pry too deeply on how close they were but my friend was very heartbroken and rightfully upset over her actions. You couldn't speak to them? You didn't value your relationship enough to even say: hey I don't like the thing you're doing and don't want to rp with you anymore or what it brought up in our threads at all. Yes, I know people don't owe you anything, “fictional incest bad”, but as someone you spoke to regularly for a year and considered a friend? Nah, that's just cruel.

We continue rping, the Nami all but a passing fart and eventually I decide to make a new blog to rp Luffy. I'm getting into the swing of rping on Tumblr and want more. My friend has moved on and even made a new side blog for Kaido.

Playing the main character of a series with over 500 named characters I assume there's plenty of fun to be had and quickly start branching out, avoiding the Nami but not blocking her because besides reaching out from my Sanji blog I have not spoken to this person once in my entire life. I'm not the one with the problem, she is and I do nothing to conceal that I'm the same person from the Sanji blog. I don't link them however because Sanji's blog is basically private anyway. 

As I'm looking for mutuals on Luffy I notice that cathiief is affiliated with a lot of blogs. I don't care and follow these blogs intent on interacting or avoid them depending on how they write or which muse they have. 

The following two examples are what happened:

I don't recall if I dmed @embcrs first or sent in a meme but they rp an Ace that survived the summit war. In dms we are getting along really well, throwing ideas back and forth, having a ball. In embcrs rules it says not to interact if you ship the asl brothers together. I don't and never have at this point. In my mind this is fine because I don't ship asl and obviously wouldn't bring up my Sanji blog and have no interest in Sanji interacting with him. We didn't get very far before suddenly I'm blocked. Which is obviously very confusing because we were getting along fine. Tumblr is a bad site and so I thought it might have been an accident, I've been blocked on accident before mid-conversation and the other person has no idea how it happened. Nope, switched to my main and the embcrs mun is vauging about not having any Luffy's to interact with … like ok? Lol. You know what's interesting about this? cathiief and embcrs ship their muses, a little scrolling shows me how again it's end game. 🤔 

I of course assume the Nami was in their ear. Oh, don't rp with cannibal they write incest.

I move on, laughing with my friends about how petty this human has to be. Next I find @chivalryburdened and we get two things started without any issue. It happens again: one moment they're on my dash, the next, gone. I've been blocked again?! This time I hadn't even reached out to the mun. Digging a little further into their blog, guess who've they've been writing smut with and endgame ship with. The same Nami. I don't recall the time between these two incidents but funny how that happened twice right? 

Wrong.

Looking through the OP rp tag I noticed a LOT of promos or post that were there suddenly aren't. People I skipped over for one reason or another, be it I hadn't the time to read their rules yet or didn't want another multi-fandom blog on my dash are gone. Extremely talkative people I've noticed sending others inboxes are gone. 🤔 Switching to my main I see I'm blocked by all of these people without reason and they are all affiliated with the nami. 

Do I have proof she buzzed around in their ear and like sheep they bowed to her word? No. Maybe they didn't like my vibes? Valid and fine whatever. But it's awfully funny how this worked out huh.

You know the cherry on top of all of this? cathiief herself doesn't have my Sanji or Luffy blogs blocked. 😂 Like are you keeping an eye on me to inform your clique? Are you bored? Why are you not minding your God-given business? Aren't you tired? Are you mad? Girl, it was never that deep. I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU from Tom, Dick or Harry. What are you doing LMAO. 

After saying all that you might be wondering why I even wrote this. Hell, I doubt she's going to read this or any of the other people I've @’d in this post will. I wrote this because what IN the world is going on in rpc’s in general. It's a race to the bottom. These same people will wonder why the rpc is dead and no one is reaching out besides the same three people if that. You killed it. You are policing people. You are tattling, in other people's business, throwing away friendships, all for what? To have your nose in the air and squawk about being the most morally good, thought-crime free writer in the whole community? That doesn't get you the gold star you think it does. I wrote this because I needed to vent my frustration.

I'm going to close this out by saying I don't wish @cathiief any ill will or anything really. I never knew you. You're a loser and kinda sad actually. I don't care if you think I'm a bitch or gross or whatever. I'm not here to psychoanalyze you because I don't care about you. I don't respect you. I'm ambivalent about you.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Lambert’s stuck in a rut. His life’s going nowhere and his dreams never seem to leave the A1 architectural drawings he carries around in his rucksack. He has Aiden’s bar, his respectably placed outer London apartment and his Japanese Peace Lily. That is… until he meets a tall, silent bar tender with shoulders like the Qinghai-Tibetan plateau and eyes like twin suns.

CW: mutism, war injuries, Lambert running his mouth. Set up of a longer work which has never seen the light of day, but I like the opening a lot.

Lambert had been visiting the same shitty, rundown bar since graduating. Three years bachelors, two years postgrad, twelve months running after a middle-aged racist with a caffeine addiction—internship—and then five years of… this. No one prepared you for the heady heights of listless adulthood; that odd grey area between being a cutting edge, aspiring young whippersnapper and a washed out, lonely old man with seven cats. Lambert was staring down the barrel of thirty simultaneously wondering where the fuck his life was sprinting off to and what the fuck he had even done with it to begin with.

Every night he pulled a late one at the office labouring over his distant dream of sustainable, affordable housing for the working class that wasn’t a lifeless block of concrete. You know, the kind that drew inspiration from the hallowed corridors of nineteenth century Newgate prison. The kind of place that leeched the life and happiness from every one of its occupants until they were as grey and empty as their home. Someone’s community was meant to be at their heart, something that defined them. Like the roots of a tree—you know, the person being the… tree. Look, he was never so good at conceptualising his vision in words. He’d sooner draw you a fucking picture. Which is where we were fucking at right now.

Lambert had become an architect on the back of a dream he’d had sitting on a swing set in the condemned children’s playground at the very centre of his council estate. Half the kids he’d known had given up because life was grey, drugs were easy, so what’s the fucking point, right? If only they were faced with more than the grey—

That dream had driven him through his studies like a man possessed—by a demon comprising of an unhealthy amount of Monster and a stubborn, spiteful drive to succeed—followed by that tedious twelve months as a gopher, but now he was here… or there, or whatever spatial demonstrative you wanted to fucking use, he didn’t know what to do. The dream had shuddered to a halt. Red tape, politics. The kind of thing that stood fast in the face of an outsider. Because he would always be an outsider. Something—something—attitude problem.

The same thoughts gathered like a storm cloud over his head as he trudged down the steps to Aiden’s. Both the name of the place and the owner, because Aiden straddled the line between new money glam and old east end rust in a way that was both tackey and unique. He managed to pull it off somehow. Lambert threw himself down in his usual stool, dumping his satchel full of drawings at unceremoniously at his feet, and thumped his forehead on the bar. “Usual, Sal.”

Sal wasn’t his real name. His real name was Derek. But everyone called him Sal because of the time he’d stepped in for the chef, cooked the Friday night chicken curry and given everyone salmonella. Environmental health nearly had a fucking field day but, much like many of Aiden’s licensing and business woes, the matter had cleared up mysteriously overnight.

The glass tumbler settled gently on a place mat in front of Lambert’s head. He heard the pop of the cork and the slosh of expensive whiskey—he’d worked his nuts off for his salary, so he could drink it away if he wanted to, thank you very fucking much—and then nothing. No greeting. No, “‘ello mate, what’s the story?”

Lambert lifted his head to rip on Sal and ask if someone had half-inched his tongue out his ugly mug, only to almost fall from his stool in shock. The man standing before him wasn’t Sal. Nothing like him in fact. Easily clear of six feet with a few inches to spare, a scruffy mop of dark hair and a face like someone had tried to pry out his teeth with a claw hammer. There was a gap in his lip, twisted scars all the way up the side of his face to his eye and ear. Angry, red. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Lambert said, mouth running away with his thoughts before he could marshal them.

The barman didn’t even flinch. His fingers tapped on the side of the bottle, hazel eyes dropping to the fifth he’d just poured, and Lambert realised he was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement that the drink was satisfactory. Lambert tore his eyes away and tried to bury the squirming, uncomfortable feeling that came with making an absolute cunt of yourself in front of someone new. “Yeah, cheers. Uh… add it to my... tab, uh—” Lambert glanced up and caught sight of a name badge, “—Eskel.”

There was another badge next to it. Light blue, with dark letters printed in Arial font. ‘I can’t speak, but I’m a good listener’. Lambert stared at it for a moment, fingers tapping on cool glass. “Can’t speak, huh? That because of—” Lambert gestured at his own face and Eskel nodded, “—right, bummer.” Eskel nodded again, but Lambert could swear he was being laughed at. Those hazel eyes glittered with something, and it wasn’t unshed tears at being so cruelly gawped at. Well, that was a fucking relief. “Yeah, I guess bummer is the understatement of the century.”

Eskel tilted his head and ducked his chin, with a quirk of the eyebrow.

“So, if you know my drink order, you know I have mac and cheese, with crispy bacon bits, and a side of onion rings.”

Another nod. Lambert squinted.

“You know, I’ll… uh—is Aiden out back? Fucker owes me a pony from the last—”

Lambert didn’t get through his excuse before he was sliding from the stool and hot footing it around the rope barrier to the back room. The corridor leading to Aiden’s office always smelled of industrial strength disinfectant and drunken regrets, and Lambert rubbed at his nose as he pushed through the door.

“Please, come in, not like I’m up to my bollocks in paperwork,” Aiden murmured, ensconced behind a teetering pile of brown folders and a box-shaped computer monitor from the early noughties. He was in his late-thirties, with wisps of grey hinting in his neatly groomed beard. Sharp green eyes left the lines of neat print on off-white paper for barely a second to acknowledge Lambert’s presence. “Shit week?”

“About a six on the shit-o-meter,” Lambert replied, gaze sliding sideways as the pinball machine to his left squealed and trilled. Gaetan, short, with a clean-shaven head, docs and a cut-off denim jacket, grumbled irritably as he missed out on beating Lambert’s high score. “Alright?” he asked and received a grunt in return. Gaetan was just shy of twenty years Aiden’s junior and oozed ‘younger brother complex’ from his every pore.

“Six isn’t bad.” Aiden sighed and threw his pen onto the table. “So, what’s the rub? Bacon not crispy enough?”

“What happened to Sal?”

“He finally bought that ticket to Marbella. Him and the missus flew out last night on the red eye.”

“That selfish prick,” Lambert growled. “Not even a by your fucking leave.”

Aiden shrugged and tapped morosely at his keyboard. Most of Aiden’s employees were itinerant in some way; students looking for a quick buck at the weekend, job-hoppers still searching for their calling and lazy schmucks looking for an easy ride only to realise that bar work was hard going. But Sal had been a permanent fixture for the last ten years, always dreaming about a ticket to the sun, and then wasting his pay packet on the horses or weekend jollies to France for cheap box wine.

Lambert rubbed at his beard. “The new guy. He for real?”

“Eskel?”

“Yeah.” Lambert yanked a rickety old chair over from the wall and sat on it backwards, arms folded beneath his chin. “Looks like one of Emhyr’s goons used him as a scratching post. ‘I can’t speak but I’m a good listener’?”

“He’s former forces. Not sure which. He’s… uh, part of that new government initiative. Veterans’ Strategy Action Plan.”

“Thought that was meant to put them in prisons and healthcare and shit?” It wasn’t unusual for Aiden to get involved in charity cases. Despite his feeble attempts at cultivating a fearsome reputation, he was a soft touch with a heart of gold. There wasn’t an AA programme, drug rehabilitation scheme, ex-con reform schtick or fresh start for young offenders’ initiative that he wasn’t involved in. Something about giving back to the community, or doing right by his dad, or something. Everyone had their dreams.

“Eskel’s… uh, he’s got some shit goin’ on in his head, you know. What he went through was hard. He’s happy to do some security on Saturday nights, knows how to pour a good Godfather, so he’s a decent gamble.”

“Shit going on in his head?”

Aiden narrowed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. “You know that’s confidential, and I’ve already told you too much. Fuck off and eat your dinner, I’ve got shit to do. I’ll join you for a quick one before you leave.”

Lambert rolled his eyes and left the office, pausing only long enough to bid farewell Gaetan and receive another grunt in reply. By the time he returned to the bar, Eskel was placing his mac and cheese on a neat place mat next to his whiskey. Lambert paused at the corner, taking a moment to admire the line of Eskel’s waistcoat around his muscular frame. Not too shabby. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having some new eye candy around the place. Eye candy that didn’t talk back. Winner-winner-chicken-dinner.

“He was busy,” Lambert informed Eskel as he sat down at the bar. Eskel afforded him another nod, with a quirked brow, and then turned back to wiping down the pint glass in his hands. Lambert picked up his fork and focused on wolfing down his dinner as quickly as humanly possible. He watched Eskel work discreetly, looking up only when Eskel’s back was turned or his focus elsewhere. Lambert watched his forearms flex as he restocked the fridge with bottled cider, the fold of his shirt collar beneath the rugged line of his jaw with its light peppering of dark stubble. It was because Lambert hadn’t been laid in—

He began to run the numbers and it was just so fucking depressing he stopped—

—which was why he was hyper focused. New slab of man meat. Yeah. It had absolutely nothing to do with the meandering thoughts set a-wanderin’ by Aiden’s vague comments. What was the ‘something going on’ in Eskel’s head? What did his voice sound like? What had happened to his face? What did he like to do at the weekend, and did it involve lube—?

It was too awkward. Every time Lambert opened his mouth to talk, he knew he’d get that same calm look, perhaps the eyebrow, and in the end, he said nothing.

Aiden appeared an hour later—for Lambert, it had been an hour of pretending to play Candy Crush on his phone while watching Eskel go about his duties—and they shared a beer, a few giggles, and then Lambert headed home to his empty apartment to water his Japanese Peace Lily. No, it wasn’t a fucking euphemism. Vesemir said he couldn’t be trusted with another living thing. Not even a goldfish. He couldn’t even cook (although Lambert argued that those two things definitely didn’t fucking correlate, and boiling pasta definitely counted as cooking). He laid in bed that night and stared at the ceiling, thinking about Eskel and his quiet, calm eyes.