#i kinda like the look of the consistent line weight with this one

[hanymelon]

The girls!

💛   commissions | ko-fi  💙

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 1

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

A/N: This has been sat in my drafts for a while coz i was kinda scared to post it, coz its a new reach of people I'm looking for.

It started off with a silly little tweet you'd made in the summer break when you werent racing. You didn't feel like watching old F1 or MotoGP races and there was no movie that immedielty came to mind.

So you scrolled through youtube. At first it was a documentary about the ocean, and you had to switch it out. Which is how you came across a channel called Sam and Colby, two American boys who... well you didn't actually think they had a 'thing:

Your YouTube consisted solely of vlogs and car/bike videos that you did. That was your niche. However these two didn't seem to have a specific niche, you perused them seeing that they vlogged and did challenges and prank video and even back in the day were part of vine.

The most recent things they'd been sticking too by the looks of things were these paranormal investigations. They went to these haunted places with cool gear and filmed the experience. You were very intruiged as the paranormal was something you'd believed in just never interacted with.

After watching them bring people on, and be scared shitless you knew you'd boss something like this.

You were alone in your house, drinking which is where the tweet actually came from.

There was a lot of action from both fans of motorsport and YouTube fans. You of course got some hate from the tweet from the YouTube side and hence started the fued between your fans and Colby and Sam fans.

It wasn't until the podcast you went on that the duo took notice of you.

"So today I'm here in the studio with Y/N, now this I think is an intertsing podcast for both of us, because you've only been on Motorsport related ones so far correct?"

"Yes" you smile nodding. You'd actually been on a few podcasts as you really enjoyed talking to people and hearing their stories and being able to talk about your own experiences and hardships.

You started of with the generic motorsport questions, that were all angled at you being a woman in motorsport. Which you enjoyed as you knew getting to the position you had now was a hard hard feat you managed to overcome.

He then got onto more general questions about you life, which again you were happy to answer.

"I do have something that people asked me to ask when we first annouced you here and that was about the tweet with Sam and Colby?" he says looking to his notepad making sure he was keeping in his order.

"Mmmm, what about it?" you smile knowing this was going to be a thing.

"So you basically said along the lines of, if you were in a Sam and Colby video that you wouldn't be scared, why is that?" he asks tilting his head to the side.

"Well, not much scares me when i drive motorbikes at roughly 250 kmph. You know, I've come off those bikes and had my life flash before my eyes as I go into the barrier. One of my worst crashes nearly killed me, but I got back on the bike, one I healed and I won my first race back in Lusial. As part of the Red Bull family I've helped them with some crazy challanges, beat Max Verstappen in an F1 car and lots more. So i think it would genuinely take a lot to scare me!" you smile explaining your thought process behind your tweet and how you think you'd genuinely react.

"So I'm guessing you'd be like down to collab with them at some point!" he asks.

"Yeah of course, I know these things take time to plan so obviously you know with both our busy schedules it probably wouldn't be anytime soon, but you never know!" you grin and after a few more questions before the podcast ends.

It was around a week later, you were in your home gym getting some weight training in when a message dings up. You stop the current exercise your doing to check it.

It was an instagram DM from the Sam and Colby official account. You click on the notification to go onto the chat to look at what they'd messaged you.

Of course you immedielty replied. You exchanged numbers with both the boy's before Colby made a group chat asking when you were free.

It was harder to find times than you expected, the next time you all would be free was during your winter break from racing. Which was risky to confirm anything, especially to their fans as anything could happen to you in that time.

You agreed on a date and time to tell your fans.

The next step was you inviting them to a race weekend, you wanted to meet them but obviously didn't have much time between races. So you invited them to your home race at Silverstone in the United Kingdom.

They decided to make it a whole thing, where they explored some haunted places across England after coming to see you at your race.

You decided to meet them at the airport first and you couldn't hold in your nerves to meet them, you never had the best people skills which is probably why you went into the career path that you did.

You waited for them in the arrivals area, it wasn't too busy due to the time of the day, just a few business men in suits. You looked around for a board to see when their plane had landed, but could find one.

"Y/N?" you hear from behind you.

A/N: I don't know what the fandom's like on here, but I just like writing about cool situations that help with writers block for writing my book! If you follow me for F1 and General Motorsports this is me branching out my writing into another hyper fixation of mine that’s been around for a while!

[ghostlywhiskey]

based off this tiktok and how the cod men would cuddle (simon is at the end). simon’s really did something to me and made me all warm and fuzzy inside. kinda wrote this with the idea that reader & simon haven’t been sexually intimate yet too. no anatomy mentioned for reader so can be read as gn!reader :) 

it’s you and simon early in your relationship. somewhere between the lines of you both have feelings for each other, trying to rationalize it and seeing how it could work with his job. ‘i love you’ hasn’t been spoken yet, the words confirmed in different sayings to show you both care for each other. physical intimacy early on consists of quick kisses here and there; whether it's on the lips, the top of your head or cheek. it’s the hand that rests gently on your lower back while he guides you through crowds before taking your hand securely in his so he doesn’t lose you. but, that wasn’t ever possible. even if you lost him in a crowd, he’d stick out like a sore thumb from his frame alone. 

but it’s one night before he’s supposed to leave for a mission. the day earlier spent running errands with him while he grabbed small necessities followed by lunch. after all of that it was take out for dinner until the both of you retreated to his room; originally you didn’t plan on staying the night, but by the time you realize how late it was he just convinced you it was no problem to stay.

he dug through the drawers for a change of clothes for you, a pair of boxers to act as shorts and a t-shirt that might as well be a dress on you the way it came down just above your knees. you waited until he got into bed first, cautiously slipping under the covers on the side you’d sleep on once he was settled.

it was new territory in your relationship. there were times where he would have his arm around you while you both were sat on the couch and you’d lean into him. but now, being in bed with him, it felt like your body tensed as you pulled the covers up and snuggled them as you turned on your side to face him. laying on his back, eyes fixated on the ceiling until he felt your gaze and turned his head to look at you. 

“what is it?” it wasn’t a harsh question, nor did it sound like it was. it was gentle despite the usual gruffness of his tone.

shaking your head slightly as it rested on the pillow, you held your gaze with him as you answered, “nothing, just saying good night.” 

there was a brief pause and the air felt heavy around the two of you, or at least it did for you. and before you could speak the words good night to him, his body rolled onto his side and grabbed for yours. an arm snaked under you as the other hand pulled you against him and secured itself around your waist; both of your legs found their way to interlock comfortably.

“si–” eyes glancing up to see what you could of his face. his eyes closed while he pressed his lips against your forehead gently. 

“gon’ miss you,” lips move against your forehead as he speaks, the arm around your waist moving slightly so he can scratch at your back while your one arm that wasn’t buried under your weight could reach to cup his cheek. a small space breaks between both of your heads so you can clearly glance up at him as he lowers his own to meet your eyes again.

“i’ll be here when you come back, yeah?” your voice is soft and reassuring, because you know his brain well enough to know where his thoughts are wandering off to. 

“i wouldn’t ask you to–” his words are cut off by your own.

“i’ll be here,” you repeat the words, this time it sounds more confident, but still assured. there’s no hesitation. 

slipping his arm away from your body, it comes to cup your face as well. both of you laying there, your thumb brushing against his scar covered cheek. simon’s hand rests so that your ear sits between his pointer and middle finger, thumb just by your hairline. both of your breaths steady and hitting each other's faces until he tugs you closer to his, lips pressing against your lips this time. 

and you swear the words ‘i love you’ are spoken by him, mumbled against your lips as he kisses you. in return, your hand tugs his face closer as if it wasn’t already, your body pressing against his as both of your body heat exchange between each other, more so his. 

[momokarp]

hi I love your sketchbook art sm! your lines look kinda messy in the best way possible and i rlly wanna achieve that same look!! also i wanted to ask, do you sketch everything out in pencil beforehand or just go directly in with the pens?

Thank you! I used to hate how not clean my stuff looked compared to other’s stuff but I eventually came to really like messy inky things! Makes me feel better about my mistakes and it stops me from being a perfectionist.

As for my process I do both!! I’ll either go straight in with pens, or sketch first in pencil- OR if you want it to look messy but also kinda sick?? Do your under drawings in a super light pen/marker (like yellow or blue or gray) and then lineart on top. Maybe make that color you use something to add to shading later on. I’ve also done under drawings with dried out pens before to get a gritty texture, if you have any dying pens, they can still be put to use!

I just broke into a new sketchbook so I labeled what I did what with for these Needles Concepts. Fineliner pens can get you consistent line weight but BRUSH PENS can be thin or thick or flex to get some nice line variations. There’s soft brush pens and harder ones too if you’re worried about control.

The stuff where I went pencil first and then pen is FAR neater in general, and I can plan more. It’s pretty difficult to go just straight pen but I encourage you try it out a few times. It makes you plan and think about posing and proportion all in your head but boy it can be fun!

[blue-slxt]

Birthday Sex

*Request: It’s my birthday!! Can I please get birthday sex with soft dom Neteyam*

First of all, Happy Birthday!!! 🥳 I hope you enjoyed your day!

I kinda cheated and bumped this one to the front of the line because I wanted to get this out for you on your birthday so I really hope you like it! All characters are aged up.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut

You knew what you were getting yourself into. When Neteyam dragged you back home because he wanted to give you your gift for your birthday, you knew what he meant.

It started with roaming hands and teasing touches. It soon escalated to hungry kissing, heavy breathing, and clothes flying. “I want to taste you”, he said lowly leading you to your shared sleep mat. You were confused for a second when he layed down on his back. But when he pulls your body on top of his face and his tongue makes contact with your gushing cunt, your confusion is replaced with pure brain-rotting lust. Your head falls back and you bite your lip reveling in the feeling of his warm, wet tongue lapping up all of your arousal that spilled over into his mouth. His eyes squint up at you suspiciously noticing how surprisingly light you felt. He knew you were only hovering over him and he was not satisfied with that. “Properly, yawne.” He says gripping your hips and harshly pulling you down to his face. Your knees give out under you and now your full weight sat on top of him. Loud slurping sounds fill your ears. You look down at Neteyam between your thighs that now caged him in and he was eating you like a starved man. He sucks on your clit and your hips jerk forward on his face. He groans loving the feeling of your folds sliding against his mouth. His hand comes up to slap your ass one quick time. “Ah! Neteyam!” His name rolls off your tongue like a song. His tongue busies itself pushing inside of your dripping hole. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. You’re dying for more friction when you start to grind your hips down on his face. The tip of his nose bumps and pushes against your clit with every move you make and it’s finally starting to scratch that itch. Your fingers tangle in his hair to steady yourself while you ride his face. Your body leans back as you feel your high about to crash into you. “Ah! Haah! Oh, I’m gonna cum!” A muffled ‘mmmhmm’ is all Neteyam can manage to give you as a response while he happily suffocates in your core.

Your orgasm hits you full force while your hips buck wildly against Neteyam’s mouth. When you finally come down, your body goes still while you still reorganize your scattered brain. Neteyam taps your thigh lightly signaling to you that he finally needs to come up for air. You lift up off his face and his breathing is heavy gazing up at you.

He sits up to look at you. “Neteyam, I—” he cuts off your words when his mouth collides with yours. You can taste yourself in his mouth and it makes your eyes roll. He lays you down on the mat unable to hold himself back anymore. His hands find your ankles and yank them up onto his shoulders. You let out a small squeal that shifts into a moan when he plunges himself into you.

His thrusts are hard and consistent. From this angle, he’s knocking into your cervix just right and making your toes curl.

A deep groan erupts in his chest. “I love you so much. My beautiful mate taking me so well.” You loved it when he praised you and he knew that. There wasn’t a day that went by that Neteyam didn’t praise you about something, no matter how miniscule. It never failed to set your chest on fire.

His pace speeds up and your hands desperately feel around for something to grip to ground you back into reality. You’re about to cum again and from how tight the knot in your core is, you can tell how big it’s about to be. “N-Nete…I-I’m gonna…” you can’t even get the rest of the words out before your nerves all light up at once and your walls squeeze the life out of Neteyam’s dick. He sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and it makes him fill you with his seed. Your legs twitch with all the stimulation your body is receiving and your vision starts to dot.

One of Neteyam’s hands tenderly trails up and down your leg while he places feather-light kisses against your skin. You finally focus your vision on him and he smiles at you.

“Happy Birthday ma love.”

[darthdaddi]

MDNI 18+

More under the cut.

Smutty smutty smut, stepbrother!James, fauxcest, reader is of age, don't like it then don't read it.

Been thinking ab STEPBROTHER!JAMES KELLY recently, like real bad on my mind. How he'd waltz up into your girly room, probably filled with squishmallows or some shit because you love to collect them, or maybe because you actually have some childhood trauma you need to heal.... But one minute you'd just be talkin', maybe about nothing too important like how college was going for you or what's up with your mad collection of stuffed animals. Then next thing you know, your pushed face down into your pretty pink sheets screaming, "Jamie, Jamie, Jamie!!" All whilst kicking your feet in protest to slow down because he's bottomed out in that pretty little pussy and you can't take that much more of it, going too fast. And James would say something along the lines of, "Y'feel too good ...", a little sleazy like, while one hand holds your wrists behind your back, and the other is spreading your ass cheek just so he could look at how well you were taking him. He'd let out a breathy groan in the process, especially seeing how you just sucked him right in. Obviously your body was betraying your words, because that damn little cunt seemed greedy for more. James would be a little mean, he can't help it. It's just too fun to see you all flustered and red over his degradation, "Do you like it that much? Hm? So in need of your big brothers cock, really? No wonder, you probably can't even get it from anyone else." He'd scoff while saying those words, watching how the squishmallows and stuffies toppled over at his weight on the bed, and how he was making the springs squeak due to his pace. James would kinda snicker to himself as he'd watch with an amused smile, all your precious stuffies being scattered about. "Do you think they're traumatized?" He'd inquire, and when you'd look over your shoulder at him confused, he'd palm your head like a basketball and turn it to the side. You'd blush and hide your face into the plush bedspread in embarrassment, that a 19 year old let her stepbrother fuck her in the bed that has held up innocence for the longest time. But you can't say no to your Jamie.

This has been in the drafts, collecting dust forever now 😭 I'm trying to stay a bit consistent and maybe clean some of this out. Still working on an inbox request and I might start writing a little Halloween fic, so stay tuned for that 🤭.

[hitlikehammers]

nowhere without you

rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)

The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.

Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…

It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—

“How did you stand you it?”

The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.

More, kinda…kinda desperate.

So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.

“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:

“How did you survive it?”

Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—

Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.

“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—

Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—

“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—

“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…

He survived, like, now?

“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—

“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”

Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—

Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.

How did you survive it?

Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.

That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—

“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”

Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.

“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.

He was listening.

“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”

“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.

“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—

“I couldn’t feel you.”

Oh. Fuck. He—

“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”

“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.

A love big enough to hurt that hard.

“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.

“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.

“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:

“All of me. It’s yours.”

Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.

It knows.

“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“

“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.

“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:

“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”

“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.

It’s a start.

”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”

And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.

Not for them.

Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:

“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:

“Was never going anywhere without you.”

♥️ ao3 link here

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

[einsatzzz]

Oniyanagi 1st Generation Bosses

OCtober Day 4: Under-appreciated OC

Sorry this took a while @social-muffin! Also thank you for your interest in Kana and Kurumi's great-great-great grannies hahaha The questions below are based from Muffin's KHR OC ask post over here 🥰✨

I thought answering the questions for this prompt would work as a way to talk about them, since I barely get to draw/talk abt them vs their 10th gen counterparts. But do not be fooled, they also live in my head rent-free. Whenever I remember them, I start screaming, crying and throwing up. Thank you KHR for having a 1st gen in ur story, its another excuse for us to make another set of twin OCs.

What's your OCs name, pronouns and gender?

(Left, Older Twin) Name: Rinko Ninomiya Pronouns: She/Her Gender/Sex: Female (Gigachad, Alpha Female)

(Right, Younger Twin) Name: Ryuuka Ninomiya Pronouns: Any (People mostly use She/Her due to their clothing) Gender/Sex: Male (Doesn't bother correcting people who see them as Female, like with Kana, I'll mostly use she/her for consistency)

What's their current age and what age do/did they get involved with the khr Canon?

I guess if we were to make a sidestory for them, we'd make the "current" timeline for the story when their age is around 23-24. But the first time they kind of got involved with KHR canon should be around mid-teens, when they met Asari! Then around age 19-20, Rinko should've met Giotto by then.

For comparison, the twins are more or less one year older than Giotto.

What do they look like? Height, weight, unique physical features? (Drawings, Picrews, descriptions, all are welcome! Except AI art lmao)

From this post. Rinko's design here is kinda outdated since we changed her hairstyle to have a ponytail now hehe

Anyway, they both have the exact same height (168cm) and weight (49kg). For any unique physical features, I guess that would be for Ryuuka? She always tries to make it so that she's the same height/weight as her older twin. Even the choice of feminine clothing is because she wants to be perceived to have a feminine appearance like her.

What's your OCs relation to KHR? Are they someone's guardian, friend, subordinate, love interest? Or are they a family member of a canon character? If so, how are they related to that character?

They're both Giotto's close friends! This is the root of where the current Vongola and Oniyanagi's partnership agreement came from in the 10th Gen period. Rinko met Giotto first in a formal social gathering at Italy, through Asari. Rinko had a crush on Giotto at first sight, so naturally(to her), she immediately tried to befriend him like the gigachad that she is.

(fucksdjfhjsdf now I'm remembering that one tik/tok jojo sent me with the "itulak mo ako!"/"push me!", except it's Rinko and she asked Asari to push her to Giotto's direction => so Giotto can catch her lmao hahahaha)

Ryuuka wasn't there at that time since she was in Japan managing family affairs while Rinko was away, but she did eventually get to meet Giotto some time after that. Rinko looked very happy when she came home after all and told her all about the new friends/allies/business partners that she made while in Italy.

In the 1st Gen Vongola Guardians line-up, Ryuuka is also close friends with Asari. While they do spar together, since they're both experts with swords. More often, she also just goes to hang out and listen to him play the flute.

Rinko is also friends with Knuckle, the problem is that she's trying to get him to retire as priest and go back to boxing. So they can be gym junkies together 😭 (please imagine someone trying to convince their who swore off drinking to start drinking again)

What's your OCs flame/flames? If they have multiple, which flame is their strongest?

Both of them have Sky flames!

How does your OC use their flame? Strictly for combat, or more recreationally? Is flame use something instinctive to them, or do they have to direct their flame consciously?

From what me and Sou have right now, they currently just use it during combat. Though even then, they only use it when needed (usually it's not). The use of flames is also instinctive to them too.

Does your OC have a mafia family they are a part of? If so, what's their position in that Familia?

They're both the boss of the Oniyanagi yakuza family! Though the one seen more in public is Rinko, since she's the one mostly in the frontline of both battles and networking opportunities. On the other hand, Ryuuka is often locked up in her lab and handles various matters behind the scenes.

If your OC was a civillain what would their job be? Would they be happy with that job? Would they be good at it?

I'm thinking of modern times jobs right now so it's more fun hehe

Rinko would be a gym instructor that also runs a travel vlog channel! She love working out so much (it's insane) and has a wander lust as well. She'd be very good at both and would be very popular for it. She's also a great cook, the only catch is that she adds protein in almost all of her dishes.

Ryuuka is already a scientist herself. But she'd very much be a full time scientist as a civilian, particularly in the field of Biotechnology. She'd be a renowned expert in her industry, just don't let Umbre//lla Corp hire her (yes, this is a RE reference). She'd also be one of Geppetto Lorenzini's biggest fans in a gatekeeping type of way.

Do you have a voice actor picked out for your OC? If yes, why did you pick this voice actor? (If someone talked with your oc, what would they notice about their voice?)

Rinko's voice claim is Ami Koshimizu, while Ryuuka's voice claim is Kana Hanazawa!

Sou and I had twin OCs in Hai//kyuu before with these voice claims, so we just thought to reuse them. We listened to some of their roles and confirmed that these would still fit!

Last question! What's your OCs current fashion style? And what's their dream style? Are they close?

Rinko used to wear kimono or yukata, but ever since she started travelling to more western countries, she started to have a preference for western style clothing as well, so she wears suits and dresses in those styles.

Mostly when at work, Ryuuka just wears a white lab coat with a black turtleneck dress underneath. Though when just chilling at home or on rest days, she wears a black yukata and a white haori. She doesn't really have a dream style, since fashion isn't on her priority list.

That's all for now, hope you enjoyed reading about them! 🥰💖✨

[codenamesazanka]

Went back to reread the last bits of Jaku Arc and all of endgame. Here are some long notes (first part):

-> Chapter 295 is the best chapter of 'Deku Wanting To Save Shigaraki'. Sadly it is also just about the only chapter where Deku explicitly states he wants to save Shigaraki (the adult Villain) from AFO, from his hatred.

Deku: "You killed so many of us! And hurt countless others. That is unforgivable. It's unforgivable… and yet… back there… when you got swallowed up by All For One… At that moment… the look on your face… You look like you needed saving!"

Deku is talking about someone who just forced his teacher to mutilate himself, punched a hole through a mentor's chest, and stabbed his childhood friend. Deku was livid about these actions. And yet, when he saw the horror show that is AFO being a flesh parasite to Shigaraki, Deku was concerned. And moreover, the expression Shigaraki had on was angry, glaring, but still Deku wanted to save him.

-> Unfortunately this gets recontextualized - for the worse - in Chapter 305. Chapter 305 - the "I want to save that little boy!" chapter - is actually a mess.

-> In Chapter 305, Nana asks Deku if he has the resolve to kill Shigaraki Tomura.

Nana: You looked at him, and saw someone who looked like he needed saving. That's what you thought. We know that much because we're in sync with your emotions. Banjo: The issue is... He sure didn't look that way to us! No doubt he's suffering, what with All For One taking over his meatsuit... but that's doesn't mean the kid is hoping to be saved. Even in a sitch like that… his eyes were filled with nothing but hatred.

So here is the Vestiges basically arguing against saving Shigaraki because of the way he looked and behaved. They acknowledge that he's in pain; they acknowledge that he's in trouble with All For One (their mortal enemy!)... but he doesn't look like a proper victim, so does he actually need saving? Plus he has the potential to grow into THE ULTIMATE EVIL. Plus there are people in this world who are just beyond saving. So does Shigaraki Tomura actually need saving?

IMO, this is when Deku should argue back that, yes, Shigaraki still needs saving, simply because of the situation he's in, simply because he's suffering. Stay consistent with what Deku said just ten chapters ago. Shigaraki is awful, but he needed saving. Shigaraki has done unforgivable things, but he's still getting swallowed up by AFO, and needs saving. Shigaraki is wallowing in nihilistic rage, and (probably) therefore he needs saving. "No matter what kind of trouble someone's in," [Chapter 126] Deku wants to save everyone with a smile. He sees someone that on the surface does not appear to deserve saving - that other people are dismissing! - but he still wants to save. This would be the much stronger conviction and have much more weight to his goal of becoming the greatest Hero!

But no. It turns out, there was actually a Crying Child inside all that rage. Deku was able to look inside and see and feel a five-year-old who was full of sadness. Well, who doesn't want to save a sad five-year-old? You kinda have to!

-> Plus, this revelation of the crying child immediately makes Nana clam up and look guilty and devastated. All her previous points about THE ULTIMATE EVIL and 'people who are beyond saving' loses water because... you can't say that about a five-year-old. You probably shouldn't say that about someone who still holds an inner crying child inside of them. So this issue is immediately ditched two pages after it's brought up. Shigaraki is sad, deep down, so he's not evil or beyond saving. Therefore he deserves to be saved.

-> With this, Deku draws a nice little line in the sand to decide who should be saved: Not everyone, evidently. And it does matter what kind of trouble they're in (so maybe they deserve to continue suffering). This becomes very evident later when Deku re-encounters Muscular and Overhaul. And I feel it reached its logical conclusion when Deku can save little ghost Tenko's heart, but has no solution to Adult Villain Shigaraki and ultimately contributes to his death.

-> Yoichi also takes time this chapter to respond to Banjo's comment that Shigaraki was full of nothing but hatred by pointing out that this was how Shigaraki was groomed.

Yoichi: That's how he was groomed. My brother's own damaged body now holds him back… So it's likely… that he schemed to hijack the boy's body and soul… As part of a grand plan to acquire One For All.

However, no one reacts to this. Not the vestiges, not Deku. Yoichi is straight up telling everyone that, hey, Shigaraki Tomura here is a clear pawn in AFO's schemes. Groomed to hate, and now having his body and soul hijacked, all for the sole purpose of stealing OFA. A clear victim...

But never mind, I guess. Why care about this blood-and-flesh guy who's survived being manipulated as a child to reach adulthood only to get possessed ("No doubt he's suffering, what with All For One taking over his meatsuit") in real time and in reality and saving him from just that? We gotta focus on the ghost of the Crying Child!

-> This is where I think the Viz translation doesn't quite work out - In the original Japanese, Yoichi says 'raised', with emphasis. This conveys and highlights the meaning that Shigaraki was not brought up properly, was manipulated in some way, but otherwise it's a relatively neutral word. In English, it's 'groomed', which everyone loves quoting, but that's a much more charged word, with the added connotation of Shigaraki never having had any agency. It is a word that makes everyone look real bad when they don't react to it. Like here.

-> When asked again by Nana if he has the resolve to kill Shigaraki, Deku reflects on his previous enemies.

Deku: Up till now, I've come up against all types. They've refused to back down... so fighting was the only way to stop them. But... I never understood what made them turn out that way. If I had, maybe things would've worked out differently. Or, who knows? Maybe I still would've had to fight them anyway.

Bolded is mine. My opinion, but this is wishy-washy-ness of the highest magntitude. This isn't Deku getting an enlightenment and from this moment on deciding to start approaching Villains differently. This is him casually considering a 'maybe'. This is him recognizing that there's a blindspot in his fights thus far... but unable to envision a future where he can correct that blindspot. Maybe things might have worked out differently... maybe not. Fighting is still on the table.

On it's own, it's fine. Deku's just thinking about his previous fights. He's musing about 'what if's. But this is him thinking as a response to Nana asking him to kill Shigaraki if Shigaraki proves unsaveable. This is him laying out the groundwork for his approach to Shigaraki. "Maybe if I understand him and try to save him, I can stop him that way... or maybe yeah, I still have to fight (kill) him."

-> And finally, we have The Declaration. I Want To Save That Little Boy. I am sorry to inform you that if you look at the context surrounding the sentence, it's not actually about saving Shigaraki/That Little Boy.

Deku: Shigaraki killed so many people. He's hurt people near and dear to me. And yet!! One For All is a power meant for saving, not killing. All Might taught me that. And not just me. All Might... and all of you who've built up this power... have given hope to countless people out there. I get that this power was first meant to destroy that evil. But you've all given your lives to link the chain this far... and I think there's another big purpose behind it all! Maybe there's no other way besides killing. And I dunno what I'm going to do when the time comes... But I want to save... that little boy.

Let's break it down.

"Shigaraki killed so many people. He's hurt people near and dear to me. And yet!! One For All is a power meant for saving, not killing." - Already the focus is taken away from saving Shigaraki. The focus is on OFA as a power. OFA saves - therefore, the implication is that it can be used to save Shigaraki. The implication is all we get.

It's also not that Shigaraki shouldn't be killed - and Deku brings up Shigaraki's crimes so he clearly thinks they're relevant to whatever his unspoken judgment of Shigaraki is - it's that OFA is a power that shouldn't be used for killing.

We of course then get stuff about All Might, because Deku cannot shut up about All Might. But once again, the focus is on OFA and All Might, and how they inspires other people. How they give other people hope. Does it give Shigaraki hope? No - as Deku should well know from their Mall Talk. I think this counts as failure number one in trying to understand Shigaraki, and Deku hasn't even officially started yet.

"I think there's another big purpose behind it all! Maybe there's no other way besides killing." Sadly, despite what I think we as a fandom has gaslit ourselves into thinking, killing is still on the table. Had been from the start. Deku believes that saving is also what OFA is now meant for... but he doesn't commit to it. He keeps killing as a possibility, instead of getting rid of it completely.

"And I dunno what I'm going to do when the time comes..." Deku never gets a plan. He says this in Chapter 305, and still has no plan in Chapter 417. Without a plan to ensure saving Shigaraki is a successful, of course killing is on the table.

Then after all that, finally, Deku says he wants to Save That Little Boy. That's the line we were all fixated on, because that's what matters to us. As it turns out, what Deku was fixated on was all the stuff before this line.

Overall, the gist seems to be: OFA is a power that's meant for saving, and that concept has given inspiration to Deku and many people out there. This power has evolved to be about saving... and that's why he wants to save that little boy.

(BUT maybe there's no other way besides killing)

(Deku also has no idea what to do when the time comes.)

So this part of Deku's speech, leading up to The Declaration? Not about the victim. It's not about Shigaraki and saving him from AFO. It's not even really about The Crying Child and his exact circumstances. It's about the abstract idea of saving - and propping up OFA and All Might.

-> Cheap blow but it is notable that Deku says "I want to save that little boy" and not "I will save that little boy". Where's your stubborn shonen determination, kid?

-> Also extremely hilarious in hindsight when you realize OFA ends up still being something that destroys AFO. And something that lead to Shigaraki's death. So much for being a power that saves.

-> Chapter 305, overall:

Deku never actually says 'No' to the possibility of killing Shigaraki.

Shigaraki Tomura is acknowledged explicitly to be suffering from AFO possession, but the idea of saving him is disregarded in favor of That Sad Little Boy.

And we're not actually here to save the victim - we're here because OFA is So Cool.

Off to a great start.

[chipped-chimera]

Aquarium update - I have a Betta again! Got kind of burned last time so I travelled wayyyyy north from where I am to get her, along with some cories. It's been about two weeks since, judging my water changes (do about 25% a week, not because the water needs it but more because any longer and my filter gets gummed up) and she's been doing really well. She's changing rapidly, but she was very juvenile when I got her (like literally only a bit bigger than some of my green neons which max out at 3cm) which I expected, since marble gene. The contrast of a few weeks though is kinda nuts.

Not quite named yet, since honestly I was so burned from last time (RIP fish Karlach 😔) that I've been hesitant to name her or even share anything about her online. Also because I literally have no idea how she's gonna look in a few weeks as she matures.

I was thinking maybe Arita or Imari since her patterning reminds me of Asagi Koi and Imari-Arita Ware ceramics? Leaning towards Arita since it sounds a bit 'sassier' I guess (idk, vibes) and she definitely is that. I'll take suggestions though!

Anyway more fish rambling below -

Honestly I was so hesitant to get her, but I was already putting in replacement Cories after a mystery disease decimated my Corydora population, leaving my admittedly kind-of-fat female Three Lined solo. Whatever contagion was in the tank is either gone or dormant (since a lot of fish disease I know is entirely reliant on how stressed a fish is - they can still be a carrier but completely fine) after basically doing every treatment I had at my disposal. I think it was a mix of parasitic and bacterial, maybe fungal? Hard to target given all my tank tests consistently returned a big fat 0ppm for all the bad shit. My tank is about as clean as it gets - I only change about 25% weekly and that's more to clean sludge out of the filter, it never really needs it. Admittedly some of the deaths I contributed to because I wasn't aware how much my tank PH had changed over the months (test your PH regularly guys), apparently the huge chunks of wood have exhausted all their tannins cause I've gone from acidic to more basic. It seems to be holding about 7.8, apparently related to the Seiryu stone in there. Basically water changes caused the PH to flux to much, contributing to stress for the Cories. Yeah I feel bad but I'm also not blaming myself since a. Literally first tank b. I am learning the fish hobby is really annoying for consistent information. Like literally information that doesn't contradict itself half the time. A lot of that is the reason why I've been slowed down in figuring out what is going wrong and that ultimately has resulted in a lot of loss.

Important part though is everyone seems to be doing fine, and I've learned enough now to maybe recognise stuff a lot faster. One of the Pandas, after my first water change developed a big fungal streak down it's body (I'm guessing it scuffed itself in a panic somewhere) but had that treated easily within about 3 days with just Pimafix. No seriously, they're doing well. Well enough they apparently spawned? Saw the betta striking some mystery thing on the glass. I thought it was a freshwater limpet (they've been in there, just haven't seen them in a while) and realised no, actually an egg. Not opposed to this since I'm pretty close to stocking limit (at least in a regular, unplanted tank) so I'm down for the population control.

Betta really is a little predator though. She's honestly weird for a Betta in that she doesn't show interest in food. At all. She might nibble at a fallen bit but couldn't care less about anything I put on the surface or during feeding time. Been monitoring her weight, and she's definitely not underweight. Guess I have enough random critters in my tank (Planaria, about a million scuds since my last-ditch effort treatment to save a Cory decimated my shrimp population. I lost my favourite orange/red shrimp too 😭) to sustain her? Worry is of course I need to re-establish more shrimp. There are some left but nowhere NEAR what I had before. I've seen her chase a few who appear, she definitely has them on alert but they tend to be too big for her anyway. And too fast. Juveniles though ....

I do have a HUGE amount of hiding places for new, young shrimp (just moss. So much moss) but I think I'll maybe raise them in a netted isolation box until they're big enough that she's no longer a threat maybe? Idk. That or I get technically-not-allowed Cherry Shrimp from someone local, since they tend to be adults. Juveniles are kind of my only option at my local store.

Anyway that's the ramble!

[mochiwrites]

Aaaa thank you sorry this is going to be super long but I just had this really amazing terrible angst idea thing with vampires and so i wrote it out and i think it gets across what I want it to? The more i look over it the more it feels like a vent lmao

So uh. Here. Contains blood, kinda sh thoughts, and self worth issues! No happy endings allowed!

The worst part of the late nights was how they never seemed to pay off. Grian rubbed a hand against his eye, trying to keep the lines on the page in front of him from blurring. On his way to grab a red pen for notes, his fingers brushed against the chain holding his red crystal pendant around his neck, and he paused to look over at the vampire in the chair across from him. The light from the fireplace gave him a slightly ethereal look— the low light hid the circles that Grian knew lay under his eyes, and his usual pallor was draped in a warm orange glow. His eyes caught on Grian’s, who quickly straightened the smile that had crept onto his face, hoping the dim light would mask the warmth across his ears and cheeks.

“Grian? Something wrong?”

Grian blinked a few times. The lack of sleep must have been getting to him. “No. No, nothing.” He turned his eyes back to the papers, ignoring how they stung in protest. He had to get something done tonight, it couldn’t all be for nothing, not like the cave, not like the shack. Useless.

“Actually, could you check this out? I think I need a second pair of eyes…” Mumbo muttered. Grian shot to his side as quickly as his heavy bones would allow. If he could do anything to help, anything at all—

He overcompensated for the distance between their chairs, toppling them both onto the ground. Grian scrambled off of him, apologizing profusely at the mess of papers now scattered on the ground. Mumbo shook himself off, face a little darker than before. “No, I’m fine. Are you doing alright? You look…” he brought a hand to Grian’s face, running a thumb under his eye. “…not great,” he finished.

Grian unconsciously pushed his face further into Mumbo’s hand. “I’m fine. I’m—“ he went to take a step back, save himself from Mumbo’s scrutiny, but his knee refused to support his weight. Mumbo shot an arm out to catch him, supporting Grian’s weight against his body. Grian flung his arms around his neck in panic, relaxing his grip to his shoulders as Mumbo’s hand, the one not at his face, pressed firmly against the small of his back. Grian noted the way they were flush against each other, how he could feel Mumbo’s chest move with each breath, in and out a little faster than it normally did. He understood why; he wasn’t particularly light, and Mumbo was basically carrying him at this point. Dead weight again, in a close-to-literal way.

When Mumbo spoke again, it was soft, tentative. “Grian, you can’t carry on like this. You need sleep.”

“I can’t just sit around doing nothing. Far as I can tell we haven’t found the murderer yet, I’m of no use unconscious.”

“Well, you’re certainly not going to be of any use to us if you’re dead.”

“You’ve been sleeping less than me. That’s not fair.”

“I’m a vampire, Grian. I don’t need to sleep as much as you. I’ll take a rest too, if you want, I don’t think I can get much more done today.”

“That’s— I can’t, Mumbo, why won’t you let me—“

While Grian’s voice had been steadily rising in pitch and volume, Mumbo’s stayed soothingly consistent. “Because I care about you. Because I—“ his eyes darted across Grian’s face for a moment; Grian felt the hand on his cheek shift to his jaw, thumb below his lip, pinky brushing his pulse. Mumbo took one shuddering breath before their lips connected. After only a moment— far too short— Mumbo pulled away, frantically searching Grian’s face for some kind of reaction. Grian didn’t give him the chance to figure it out, chasing his lips, his hand moving from Mumbo’s shoulder to catch in his hair. Mumbo startled before kissing back, clearly just as impatient as Grian was. How long had they both wanted this?

Still, something nagged at him, rang in his ears. Useless. He couldn’t convince himself that he deserved any of this. Why these long nights, the nightmares everything they had suffered, was it really just to kiss his best friend in a pile of their hard work?

The worst part was, he knew Mumbo was right. He couldn’t go on like this. If only there was something he could do, some way to keep going. More energy. An idea struck him— it was a bad idea, but it was the only one he had. He couldn’t do any more, but Mumbo could. All he needed was a little blood. That was something Grian could do. After all, he wasn’t using it for anything.

He broke from the kiss for a moment, long enough to whisper an apology, before rising to meet his mouth once again, this time driving pointed teeth into his lower lip. He tried to suppress a grimace at the odd feeling of blood leaving his face, knowing Mumbo’s fangs anchoring his mouth in place would make any kind of expression painful. It would have been better to get an artery, he knew, but this was the best way he could think of, the best way to put his worthless blood to use. Maybe he could have just cut open a wrist, maybe the smell could be enough, but then again, maybe Mumbo would see it coming and throw him out. He shuddered at the thought, pulling Mumbo closer against him, feeling teeth push deeper into his lip. Ah, and Mumbo had told him it didn’t work that way, didn’t he? So this really was the best way. Hands curled around his face, thumbs gently maneuvering the fangs from his mouth, painstakingly detangling him from this mess he had started. Cool, fresh air flooded the new space between them, and clarity hit him like a freight train.

What was he doing? Did he seriously consider slitting his wrist just to force his best friend into something he very obviously did not want to do? He forced himself to make eye contact with Mumbo, dark eyes meeting red ones, blown wide in shock. Hands dropped from his face, and he crumpled to the ground without Mumbo’s support. The vampire took one step back, another, then he was running. Grian didn’t get up. He wasn’t sure if he could. A bit of blood welled up on his lip, dripping unceremoniously onto the paper-strewn carpet.

Ah the italics didn’t transfer. Thats ok. You can imagine. Love you mochi!!!

🦕

NONNIE. NONNIE PLEASE COME BACK. PLEASE. IM EXPLODING INTO A MILLION PIECES WHAT DO YOU MEAN MUMBO RAN OFF AND GRIAN JUST SAT THERE I /POS /POS /POS

I’m so. Okay. Okay okay okay. I am in love with this. like I can 100% see this unfolding in songbird. grian and mumbo feel SO spot on. like sb!grian would absolutely try and trick mumbo into drinking his blood through a kiss if it meant it helped him out. I’m so. MMMMMMMMMMMM

I love this. I love seeing a potential route of “hey this could lead to their kiss or a confession” I am in LOVE. I love them,,, and I adore how gentle mumbo was and grian’s stubbornness and MWAH. this is so lovely oh my goodness

wahhhh thank you 🥹💕 and if you ever want to write a part two please feel free omg

[wosowrites]

All Tatted Up (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: ⚠️trauma mentions⚠️

A/N: also for the sake of this story, Ann-Kat has retired. Also I love Z but she’s still the second keeper to make the story work. This is my fav fic i’ve ever written btw. and it’s based off this request:

Prompt: reader is a hard faced, tatted up goalkeeper who has a soft spot for Jessie.

You had always loved tattoos. Mapi León had gotten you into them when you were 18. You met her during your first cap for Spain, at 16, and when you were of age, and wanting tattoos, she was the woman to go to. Ever since then, you were constantly getting tattooed, it was therapy, it was healing, it was art.

You played for Barcelona for 6 years, playing for your home town was a dream. You were Barca’s starting keeper, and had 20 clean sheets in one season. You were a spanish legend. That’s why it came to everyone as a shock when you announced you were moving to London to be Chelsea’s first keeper. In reality, only a few people knew why you were leaving. Those people were your best friends, your spanish teammates, Mapi and Alexia.

The past 6 years playing for barcelona were everything, but living in barcelona, living in the town that homed your trauma, it was too hard. The girls understood, they even called Ona to tell them to keep an eye on you, even though they would never admit to you they had. You were always insistent that you could take care of yourself. And hell, you could. You were a brick wall, 6 foot tall, tatted up, jacked goalkeeper. But you were all bark no bite. Inside, behind the hours at the weight room, the tattoos, and the fierce on field personality, you were a god damn angel. You loved the beach and butterflies, and you always woke up at 5:00 am because you loved waking up with the sun.

It left fans confused, the hard, frowning, yelling on field personality was the opposite of the girl that would post sunrise pictures every morning.

But that was you. Your hard surface was practically unbreakable. It had taken your spanish teammates years to get to the root of you, that’s why it caught you so off guard when a certain freckled midfielder broke those walls in a month, it left you off guard how within a month of knowing her, you felt as though you wanted to protect her from the world.

I guess that’s just what Jessie Fleming did to you.

———

Today marked two months since you had joined Chelsea, and today was a big game. Manchester United v Chelsea. You were ready though. You did your game day ritual which consisted of not talking to anybody… yeah. That was it. Your teammates all respected that, and they respected you. They were the best people in the world, it was as though they knew that you had things beyond the surface, and they never judged you.

You walked into the tunnel, knowing you would be walking out after Magda, the captain. Ona was standing there behind her own keeper, Mary Earps.

"Y/n/n!" Ona squealed when she saw you. "¡Oye! hace tanto que te extraño! (Hey, Ona! it’s been so long, i’ve missed you )." You said in spanish, hugging the shorter girls. "Yo también chica, buena suerte hoy! mis compañeros de equipo te tienen un poco de miedo. ( me too girl, good luck today! my teammates are kinda scared of you." Ona joked.

You laughed, hugging her one more time before taking your spot in the line. It was only you from the Chelsea squad that was in the tunnel, but you liked being the first one out of the changing room. Oh, another thing about you, was that you were yet to have more than one goal scored against you in a game for Chelsea.

"That’s Ona Batlle, right?" a voice said behind you. You turned around to see Jessie standing there, basically looking up at you. You blushed bring red, not knowing why. "Um- yeah. We play for spain together." You said, feeling Ona’s eyes burning into your head. "I know. I’ve watched you before on TV playing for Spain." Jessie said. "Really? Me too. The gold medal game. And… others." You were talking shakily, she had that effect on you. The rest of the team started walking into the tunnel so Jessie smiled at you and quickly took her spot in the line. "Eres roja brillante ( you are bright red )," Ona giggled. "Callate! (shut up)" You said a bit loudly.

Most of the United players flinched.

It was the 70th minute in the game and the score was 1-0 to Chelsea. It was then that somehow, Alessia Russo got a breakaway. Kadeisha Buchanan was fast, and reached the blonde striker when she was in the box. You were ready to save the shot, but Kadeisha clipped the ball away, hitting her ankles first. Russo went tumbling to the ground, staying down a bit as Kadeisha tries to defend herself. But the ref wouldn’t hear it and awarded a penalty. She apologized to you but you brushed her off. "It’s no biggy, it happens. Just get ready for the rebound." You told her, placing yourself on the line. The referee came over to you, explaining to you the rules. "Respectfully i’ve been a keeper for 17 years, I know how to do this ref." You told her. Both teams giggled a bit, orher than Alessia, her face was stone cold, knowing she needed to score. The referee shrugged and walked away.

You extended your arms, jumping from side to side and playing mind games with Alessia. The referee blew her whistle, Alessia ran up quickly and hit the ball hard. You faked left right before she shot, making her shoot right. But you shifted your weight and got the tip of your fingers on the ball right as it was about to go into the net. The ball got pushed out and Magda was quick to clear it out. "FUCK YEAH!" You yelled loudly, pumping your fist in the air and getting hugs and claps on the back from all of your teammates. Jessie smiled at you, hugging your side before taking her spot again for a corner.

Millie took it, and it was perfect. It went right to Ella Toone, who jumped up in the air and headed it. As she did, you saw someone in blue jump as well, beside Ella. You saw her fall to the ground with a small scream, holding her head. You also saw the ball coming directly to the top left corner. You had to choose the ball. You jumped up, diving and caught the ball, falling to the ground and holding it to your chest. But the ball in your hands was long forgotten as you saw Jessie lying in the box, holding her head. You rushed over to her, the ball under your arm. You saw Ella leaning over her, but you pushed her away. "Hey get away from her." You basically growled. Ella did, she walked backwards towards her team. "Fucking scary she is." She mumbled.

Indeed, when you got protective, it was better for everyone to stay away. Ona knew that well, having been on the ground with you wanting to protect her more than once, so she made sure her manchester teammates stayed away. But she sensed that you were protecting Jessie in a different way. In a less sisterly way.

"Hey there, Jess." You said, gently pulling down her shirt and rubbing your gloved hand up and down her back. "Hey. Did she score?" Jess groaned, rolling over on her back. "Come on now. I’m in net. Of course she didn’t." You joked. "Of course." She laughed.

You pulled her hand off her head gently. Her head was bleeding a fair bit. "Where the hell are the medics?" You asked, looking around. "They went in the tunnel with Erin." Jessie groaned. It was true, they had gone in because Erin had taken a bad hit. "Okay then, sit up, we don’t want blood all over your hair." You said, seeing that Magda was trying to tell Emma to get the medics. You didn’t know what to do, she was bleeding a lot of she really needed pressure. "Okay, Jess. I’m gonna give you my shirt. This is so damn stupid." You mumbled. You slipped off your shirt quickly, pressing it to Jessie’s head who laughed. "I didn’t know what to do! Oh there are the medics." You said, standing up in your under shirt. As the keeper, you always wore a shirt under your jersey to avoid burns. "What the hell took you guys so long?" You asked, your voice carrying through the small stadium. The medics apologized quickly, earning nothing but an eye roll from you. "Hey, Sam? Can you get me another jersey?" You asked the striker who nodded and jogged over to Emma. You kneeled back down beside Jessie who now had a towel to her head. "Now that i’m thinking about it, maybe my dirty jersey wasn’t the best thing to put to your cut." You told her. Jessie laughed. "It’s okay. It smelt like you." She said, blushing immediately. "Hmm. Like me or like sweat?" You joked. "Like you." She answered.

The medic was now taping her head. "You’re going to take her off on concussion watch right?" You asked. "Yeah. Of course." The man answered quickly, not making any kind of eye contact with you. "No. Really i’m fine." Jessie tried to say. "If you play then I can’t play because i’ll be too worried about you. Go off the field, the games almost over. I’ll see you after, okay?" You told her. "Okay."

The medics tried to help her up but you ushered them off, helping her yourself. Kingsmeadow clapped loudly and you kissed her forehead quickly. Jessie walked off the field with the medics and your now blood stained jersey. Sam was now back with a fresh one which she handed to you. If it was anyone else, Sam would have teased you for how protective you were being of the freckled canadian, but she thought that for her own safety, maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

There were 9 minutes of added time, in which manchester fought hard, tiring you immensely. But the Blues managed to pull off the win. You were quick to high five your own players and the manchester players. Ella went nowhere near you, obviously avoiding you. But you didn’t care. You clapped at the fans quickly and then hurried into the tunnel and towards the medical room. You knocked on the door, opening it slightly. "You decent?" You asked. "Come on, y/n, i don’t need to be naked for a head injury. "Well you should change your jersey, Jess. It’s all blood stained." You said, walking up to her and pointing out the blood on her Jersey. "Oh shit. Yeah I forgot." She said. "I’ll get you one. But how’s your head?" You asked. "It’s okay. A small concussion and they’re gonna give me stitches once the bleeding stops." Jessie smiled. "Okay good. So I don’t need to kill Ella Toone?" You said, opening the door to go get her jersey. "No. She may live." Jess answered.

You quickly walked to the changing room, the team was still out on the field. You went to Jessie’s cubby to notice she only had her puffy coat and no jacket. It was too warm inside for a puffy jacket, so you rolled your eyes and grabbed your own jacket. The one with the number 1 on it. You walked back towards the room and opened the door. "So for some reason you didn’t bring your jacket, you only had your puffy coat, you weirdo." You told her, tossing her your zip up track jacket. "I know, I was in a rush this morning and I forgot it." She said, holding it. "This is yours though." She said, passing her finger over the number 1. "I know. My jersey isn’t bloody though." You said. "True." You guys held eye contact for a while before you broke it by turning around for her to change. "Thanks." She said.

You heard ruffling behind you and then it stopped. "You can turn around now." Jessie said. You turned around to see she hasn’t put on the track jacket. Your breath hitched. "Jess, what are you-?" You started saying. "Come here." She said, you started hearing people pouring into the tunnel. "Put the jacket on, Jess.” You said. "I don’t mind you seeing me like this." She said. "I don’t either. I don’t want the others to walk in and see you like this." You answered, walking towards her. "They’ve already seen me-"

"It’s different." You answered. Jessie slipped on the track jacket and you zipped it up for her slowly. Looking down at her body disappearing as the jacket zipped. Just then, the door opened. "Hey, you all good, Jess?" Niahm asked, poking her head through the door. "Yeah. All good. Give us a minute?" Jessie said.

Niahm looked between you both but nodded and walked out. You turned to Jessie, looking at her, your bodies close even though she was sitting down. You wanted her. You wanted her lips on yours so badly it almost hurt. So you gave in. You leaned down, pushing her chin up to give you full access to her lips. And you kissed her sweetly, and gently.

Eventually, you pulled away and walked towards the door. "I’ll see you later, J." You said.

Jessie nodded, a wide smile on her face.

A/N: I know ppl are gonna ask for a part 2 so I got you guys ;)

[clus444]

RealityStar! Gaz Part 3

Open The Chat Rooms

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"Hello everyone! I'm your host, Sativa, and I'm here to test certain theories about love. The contestants will blindly choose their 'Their Forever Partner' and be put through challenges so we can find out how forever their partners are gonna be," Sativa says cheekily. "Sometimes we put what we call 'spies' in the game that no one knows about. Their job is to act like their here for love but its to test limits. More will be explained later as I want to get this show on the road. My final question to the contestants is, are you ready?" The screen turns black and I stare at it waiting for something else to happen.

The words ' Start dating' appear with a loading bar under it. The room is nicely decorated with a beach theme to it. The walls are a nice blue color with a accent wall painted to resemble a beach. They put nice black couch in the wobble with beach themed pillows. Quotes about not giving up taped on the wall. One camera not so secretly placed in the top corner of the room.

The bar finishes loading and 12 profiles pop up. I accept 4 chats and I start three with a simple,

R-Heyyy

Everyone was told no names in case recognition happened. Especially since some have made it known they were on the show. One of the chats consisted of talking about sports only, one treated it as a sex thing kinda and I immediately left, and the others were downright boringgg!

How hard is it to have a normal conversation? Though I can't completely blame them. Dating for me hasn't been lucky and I think I find myself carrying that onto here. But hell can you blame me? Rome wasn't built in a day.

I decide to click on one more before finishing for the day. Clearing my mind and coming at this with as much positive energy as I can.

R- Your profile says that you are from Great Britain

Is the food as bad as they say?

G-Though I love my country,God bless the queen (She's alive right now,I have my reasons), the food does have its faults compared to America

R- Are you trying to say it is better than any other place?!?

G-I said we had some faults... We have some delicacies

R- Can you even count chicken masala...

G- I'll have you know that degradation is my kink

I laugh out loud at that. I guess I kinda did go in hard.

R- Looks like we have something in common.

We began texting back and forth the conversation flowing smoothly. I catch myself giggling and twirling my hair. We talk about movies and of course land on the argument of rose and jack. He could've fit!

G- Yes the door was big enough but! Weight would weigh them down.

R- Puh-Lease! She could have given him her life jacket to help cover him for the cold.

We talk about each others families. His father was enlisted in the army but now spends his days in the wilderness to get his hands dirty. His mom stayed at home to care for him and his sisters. I told him about how my father died which left me and my mother. I only have one sister.

R- My father passed when I was young so I don't have many memories with him.

G- Daddy issues go crazy for the both of us.

Though my father is here, we weren't always close. We are now repairing our relationship.

I also found him to be very funny and quite sassy! His quick comebacks had me dying on the floor. I'm sure the viewers will have a field day with our messages.

*Buzzt*

A buzz happens and lets us know that we have to stop chatting.

G- I'll text you tomorrow. Tell your other dudes I'm first in line.

I smile as I reread his text. I fist bump the air as I start to feel like this wasn't a complete failure. Maybe love is in my cards or maybe I'm being naive and desperate. I'm not quite sure but what I do know is that if this doesn't work out, Hot Girl Summer will!

Kyle receives a small message that says...

S- Feel free to make a confessional. Just grab the camera under the couch and set it where to computer is.

He thinks for a moment weighing his options. He grabs the camera and sets it up. How should I start?

"I'm Kyle Garrick but everyone calls me Garrick. So far I've talked to 8 people. Only two really catch my eye but I have my doubts about this whole thing," He pauses and laughs.

"For some reason, I can't shake the feeling that none of this is real. What can I say? Stacey and I share a similar military family background. And the other one just seems crazy. But I will admit how interested I am to see how this plays out," He finishes talking and signs out.

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Giving you all some more plot but I cant lie and say I wanna skip some parts. Anyways hope you enjoyed!!!

Masterlist

[aurumacadicus]

steve/bucky/tony i kinda wanna ask for regency au but let’s do pregnant omega tony and his stupid boys

I did do one for Regency a billion years ago (I think you can find it under both the regency au tag and the 5 head canons tag). I always love stupid boys <3

No one is more surprised than Tony when his test comes back with a second little pink line. He'd thought he'd never be able to have children. His doctor had said he was infertile after Afghanistan, not just from stress but because of secondary internal injuries that hadn't been seen as important as his heart when they'd been operating on him in the cave. Apparently, it was a common misconception that people believed "infertile" was synonymous with "sterile." It was possible to get pregnant, just less likely without medical intervention. Tony was being railed by two super-serumed soldiers on the regular, though, which apparently extended to their sperm count. "It basically counts as medical intervention, doesn't it," his doctors had murmured to each other, as if he could not hear them. So. He's pregnant. He doesn't know who the dad is and quite frankly, he doesn't care. But he does worry how they'll take it. So far they've had a pretty smooth relationship, but mostly because all of their problem-solving consists of 'fuck it out.' Now that he's going to be nauseous all the time and gaining weight and everything, he doubts they'll want to touch him with a ten foot pole, let alone fucking his brains out. But he has to tell them, he supposes, even though he's really not looking forward to them gradually distancing themselves until they can figure out how to co-parent.

"Do you know whose it is?" Steve asks. "It's not even an inch big yet," Tony tells him sternly. "I only found out so early because I have to have checkups after every heat. It'll be three weeks before we can do a DNA test." "Aw," Steve and Bucky sulk, crossing their arms over their chests. Then Steve perks up. "Okay, so. Eight months left to--" "Full-term is forty weeks, nine months left," Tony cuts in. "They always said nine," Bucky says, surprised, then hastily adds, "Not that I'm doubting you, I just didn't expect even pregnancy to change in seventy years--" "Pregnancy and babies have changed a lot," Tony begins. Steve shoulders his way between them, scowling. "Yeah, okay, well, we have time to learn. Great, even! Now we have nine months to prepare." "We?" Tony asks, brows furrowing together in confusion. Steve and Bucky stare at him, then turn to each other and do that thing where they talk to each other with their eyebrows and eyerolls. It takes a few minutes, but then they turn back to him, and Steve firmly says, "Yes, Tony. We. We have nine months to prepare for the baby." "We're all in this together," Bucky adds. "Just because the baby isn't biologically one of ours, we're a team. This is our baby." "...Sure," Tony says dubiously. Somehow, neither Bucky nor Steve look offended by it.

Steve and Bucky jump into research with gusto. Tony has no idea what to think of it, so he doesn't, instead focusing on eating healthy and staying fit. He's older than he'd liked to be for his first (only) baby so he wants to stay on top of his health. He's a little surprised when Steve and Bucky adapt their diets to match his (if with doubled portions), but he figures he appreciates the solidarity, if he allows himself to think about it at all. They get into a deep, deep discussion about the pros and cons of disposable diapers vs cloth diapers. Tony can't even get a word in edgewise as they bicker over liquid absorption in cloth and skin irritation in disposable. Mostly he just waits to see what decision they're going to make. It feels like it's out of his hands. Then they seem to remember he's there, and they ask how he feels about it, and he says, "I'm going to be so tired and gross that I'll just do whatever is easiest." "Oh, we were going to do all the changing," Steve begins, and Bucky proudly adds, "I'm a pro. I changed tons of my sister's diapers," and Tony immediately starts heading toward the bedroom and stripping off his clothes, to their confused delight.

"...Of course we'll have a baby photo shoot," Tony says, bewildered. "I'm famous. We're famous," he corrects after some thought. "I want to put out the first pictures of my child, not have a paparazzo get the scoop." "Oh no, this is a horrifying implication that we didn't consider," Steve answers, putting his head in his hands. Tony stares at him, because this has not clarified anything. He turns his attention to Bucky. "Huh?" "The doctors made it pretty clear that this should be your only baby," Bucky offers hesitantly. "And we thought we should... appreciate every piece of it? So we thought doing some professional photos of you and your bump would be nice." "Oh," Tony says, brows furrowing together. "Um. I guess that sounds okay. Are you sure?" His hands come up to rest on his stomach, palms sliding over his baby bump. "I've got a lot of stretch marks. They're kind of ugly." "Every part of you is beautiful, Tony," Steve scolds. "Do you know how hard it is for me to not lick them? I am constantly exercising restraint." "It's true. He's very annoying when he complains about it," Bucky assures him. Tony raises his eyebrows. "I didn't need convincing. Steve is not subtle when he decides he wants to sketch me." "I'm totally subtle!" Steve exclaims. Tony pulls up his shirt a little. Steve's eyes immediately drop down to his stomach, pupils dilating, fingers twitching before he curls his hands into fists. "Oh my god," Bucky says, stunned, because apparently he'd never noticed before. "IS IT MY FAULT TONY IS SEXY IN ALL FORMS," Steve bellows defensively, and Tony responds, "It's too close to my afternoon nap to get horny, so keep it together. You can sketch me sleeping." Steve punches the air with a cheer. Bucky buries his face in a pillow to try and muffle his laughs. It doesn't work.

Nearer the end of his pregnancy, Tony eschews maternity wear and just puts on one of the alphas' shirts. Everyone, from their fellow Avengers to random people on the street, coo about how sweet and cute it is. Tony has always sort of prickled at the idea that he needs an alpha in his life to be whole, and prickled more at the whispers that he needs an alpha to control him. Not all of his decision to hold off mating was because he couldn't find someone he wanted to settle down with; part of it was also worry that any prospective alpha was holding out to do just that, wait until he was trapped to control him. He doesn't feel that way about Steve and Bucky though. They make him feel... safe. Wanted, even. So sometimes he likes to leave the tower wearing one of their shirts. It gets people to give him space. (And maybe he feels all warm and gooey inside when people gently rib him about it. But that's his business.) Steve and Bucky have never been in more pain in their lives. Tony kicks out of his shoes and pants as soon as he gets home, complaining about his swollen feet and ankles, so he's walking around in nothing but one of their shirts and maybe underwear, because he's complained about the waistband digging in uncomfortably the bigger he's gotten. How in the fuck are they supposed to cope? He's literally never been sexier. They're trying very hard not to be neanderthals about it, but it's difficult when he waddles around the penthouse, smelling of them and himself and baby, wearing nothing but a shirt and cradling his bump. It's a good thing this is his only baby because if they had to deal with this one more time they simply wouldn't let him off his back for ten months. Tony's smug about it when he notices, which makes it worse. He's so attractive when he's smug. It's not fair. (Except the suffering is worth it, when Tony coyly peers over his shoulder at them and lifts the back of his shirt up over the curve of his ass invitingly.)

Bonus: Tony has the baby and Steve cries a lot. He's too scared to hold her so Bucky lets him cradle his hands as he holds her. Tony supervises closely before finally saying, "Well, that was a lot," and promptly falling asleep sitting up. Steve and Bucky gape at him.

[moeatsushi]

Dear Moeatsushi could u teach us how u do ur Oso-san artstyle?? O tell us how u learned to do it? 🙏🙏

i use a lot of references! too many. i have multiple canvases with screenshots with references for poses, expressions, etc. i recommend taking screenshots of everything you find interesting and studying the show's style. copying screenshots and official art as close as possible helps a lot, since you can compare the differences of proportions or technique. truth is you can apply this to any sort of study!

something i used to struggle a lot on was proportions; i often drew the characters with "proper" body proportions to their heads and ended up looking weird, since it's a very cartoony head on a not-so cartoony looking body. so watch out for that.

i left a little analysis down below about the line weight aspect since that's what i spend the most time looking at!

the line art is a little tricky since it relies on thicker lines rather than thin ones like in most anime, but it follows specific rules you can later on bend however you like. the lines are built, on it's essentials, like this:

line starts and ends in an increased thickness compared to the rest of the line, and bending points often result in thicker corners, making them less pointy. this technique is used mostly in the outlines while the lines inside it are often composed by thin traces with no line weight. example below.

notice the variety in weight on the outline while the inside of iyami's mouth and eyes are built with thin lines! they're often used for details and to add contrast.

they also make use of a very thick outlines surrounding the character, but it varies from scene to scene. sometimes they use it a lot, and sometimes they don't use it at all. depends on the type of shot and the purpose of it.

something to note is that the furthest the character is, the more consistent the line gets, resulting in less line variation.

parallel lines also tend to get fused in order to avoid uncomfortable looking gaps between them, specially in far shots.

they kinda glue the lines together if they're close enough lol, the hairs sticking out of their bowl cuts are the most common victims of the parallel line fusion.

also lines don't have to be THAT tidy either, if you look close enough some shots have very sketchy/wobbly looking traces. this is the part where i leave examples of that, but being completely honest i'm very sleepy so i'll let you do your own research on that.

anyways, i hope this is coherent enough to comprehend, i'm no expert but i know a thing or two about lines! if anything sounds too confusing you're more than welcome to shoot me another ask and i'll elaborate.

[tjodity]

Do you have any shape shifter headcanons for dsmp and why…

UMM!! My ideas for character designs are smooth and constantly shifting so let me think..

ok im putting this under a line i had more thoughts than i expected

I go back and forth on Tubbo being a shapeshifter. Yuker made a good comic on the idea. If not I think he's just a human guy who tends to change his appearance a lot, either based on people who have had a big impact on him or to chameleon. He mimics Tommy's appearance a lot in his early days out as transmasc, so he cuts his hair short and wears a lot of outdoor-oriented and kind of styleless clothing. Throughout the early SMP and L'Manburg he came into his own personality wise, but also slotted into the more formal environment. He grew his hair out more but kept it brushed and wore lots of button ups. During Manberg he completely bleached his hair and started wearing suits. He also lost a ton of weight and stopped styling his hair. As president he wore a cracked segment of Schlatt's face from a stone bust to obscure his scars and partial blindness. His suit coat is too big so he wears it like a cape. By the time of Snowchester he has sort of a crisis about looking like other people and dyes random patches of his hair pink and blood and wears almost entirely utilitarian clothing.

I could maybe see Dream as a shapeshifter? I think it could lead to some interesting things if he didn't literally have a mask, but was just always mimicking other people so no one knew what his actual face looked like. On the other hand I like making Dream a fairly normal guy before he started to take a turn during the elections, with any inhumanity being a conscious choice of presentation on his part.

I have some ideas about Niki but it's not quite shapeshifter. She was originally this sort of mechanical angel, like one of those automatons from the 1800s, with plating over internal engines and clockwork. She starts out looking like a very traditional christian angel, but paints herself and starts wearing clothes to appear more human-ish. She has a lot of fun messing with her appearance. This also has the effect of her appearance and humanity being kind of an exposed nerve when people insult her over it. When she's spiraling alone in the hidden city she sort of takes her entire shell off and just looks like if you took the guts of a grandfather clock and had it move around like a skeleton. She tries to make herself very menacing after joining the Syndicate, but it does not do great things for her sense of personhood. I think after she gets her shit together she'd whittle herself a new exterior.

(^^ she kinda starts out looking like these but made of gold and wrought iron)

I know people headcanon fundy as a shapeshifter a lot but I don't vibe with it. I really like anthro designs of him, and there's more canon backing, but I'm also infatuated with characters that are just. real furries. meaning humans who dress up and draw animals. There aren't enough of those as characters and I feel like with Fundy it could be poignant for his struggle to be viewed as an adult and then the struggle to really have any consistent relationships in his life and the distance he feels towards humanity do to his isolation feelings of abandonment and straying from even grounded time and space. To me he's a guy who got really into furries when he was younger, was mocked relentlessly for it, repressed it into complete denial by the time of L'Manberg onward, and then got back into it with encouragement from his girlfriend who wears a fursuit everyday in public for fun (also its absolutely a sex thing for H but she lets Fundy have it as a not sex thing. mostly)

I think there could be something to be said for Puffy being an anthro-to-human shapeshifter and how it relates to the building pressure she feels to sort of 'save' everyone around her, whether that's as an untrained therapist or the leader of a resistance against a god or the girlfriend of a very destructive woman. Maybe her sheep/monster form is her more comfortable form but she uses it increasingly less as she feels the need to sort of be 'perfect' and is more frequently human.

I think Mexican Dream was probably just some poor shapeshifting monster that felt bad for Tommy and worked with what was around. Maybe he was some kind of sea monster derivative of a siren that was just passing by. God sends his most helpful soldiers to be brutally murdered five minutes after their introduction.

The only main character I guess I could see as a shapeshifter is maybe Quackity? I think breaking down how that fits with his character is above my paygrade but I think generally with how much of his character is about presentation and a lot of his story is sort of trying to fit into different places before Las Nevadas. I imagine his shifting is pretty smooth, like an animation rather than something with blood and bones below skin shifting. But who knows maybe that's a performance in of itself. I think most of the forms he takes are pretty human but when he's in full Las Nevadas I-don't-care-about-people-quit-your-job-join-my-emo-country mode he does like a chimera thing. Lion mane around his neck like old royal fashion snakes coming out of his wrists dove wings everywhere. It's incredibly taxing so he usually just does it for commercials and threatening people.