#is it OC i dont know

[vianwrites]

I don't know why I am suddenly addicted to these two (Trini and Kimberly from the Power Rangers Reboot Movie), but I am. And, as with everything I end up being obsessed with, I decided to write something about it.

This is just something from the top of my head. One-shot, but maybe will turn into a multi-chapter fanfic. Who knows. I'll be cross-posting it on AO3 as well (when I get home), anyways, Title of this fic is "Eyes Open (Trini's Version) and here it goes:

As the days after defeating Rita Repulsa passed in Angel Grove, Trini found herself constantly wrestling with her emotions. The peace that had settled over the city allowed her the time to truly delve into her thoughts and reflect on everything that has happened so far—from moving to Angel Grove, being caught in and surviving an explosion and later finding her Yellow Power Coin, surviving a car crash unscathed, forcefully being thrown over a cliff and down an underground pool that is hiding a spaceship and learning she was chosen to be one of the Power Rangers, training, fighting an alien menace hellbent on destruction and revenge, and everything in between. Yet, no matter from which angle she reminisced, her thoughts always seemed to circle back to one Kimberly Ann Hart. The Pink Ranger had effortlessly become a core part of Trini's life, and it both thrilled and terrified her. One afternoon, Trini sat in her room. There was no training to be had, no school-related activity to be done, no family responsibilities to take care of. It was just an afternoon all for herself with the sun casting a warm glow through the window. She held a photo of the Power Rangers, the team smiling brightly at the camera, that was taken during their celebratory campfire after defeating Rita. Her gaze lingered on Kimberly, her heart swelling with a mix of fondness and longing that shouldn't have caught her by surprise but did. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks—she was in love with her best friend. The fear that gripped Trini was suffocating. She feared ruining the delicate balance of their friendship, of losing the closeness they had developed. And, most of all, she feared Kimberly not feeling or swinging the same way; that she was just going to make a fool of herself if she confessed. The thought of rejection and loss made her stomach churn with anxiety. The "what ifs"—the consequence of being rejected, the fear of being laughed at, of what it could do to them, of being alone again—plagued her and made her feel like she was one step away from a full blown panic attack. But she knew something has got to give—was bound to give—and knew she couldn't keep this to herself for much longer. Trini knew that the weight of her unspoken feelings would only continue to grow until it consumed her entirely; that it would spring forth unbidden one time without much of her control nor foresight, like a volcanic eruption that is both catastrophic and mesmerizing to watch; a force of uncontrollable nature. It was a terrifying prospect, and not one that was new to her. After all, it was one of the reasons—many, her mother would say—as to why she had been forced to move to Angel Grove in the first place, upending her life once again. And even though she had sworn off ever feeling this way again, here she was, mind overtaken by thoughts of a girl. Her mom would definitely freak more than her coming to that realization if she finds out. But, the thing about almost dying and of thinking about a future that would force them to be heroes once again should anyone threaten the peace they had fought to achieve had Trini realizing yet another thing: that life was, simply, too short to not dare and dream and want and hope and love. Not long after that thought struck her did her phone pinged with a notification. She placed the photo she was holding down and replaced it with her phone that she took from her bedside table where she had left it to charge. Kim's name, and small profile photo, greeted her along with the message she sent. It was just a single line of text, but it was enough to make the cogs in her mind run on overtime.

"Hey Trini, can we talk? It's important," the message read.

Trini wonders if this was a sign from the universe. She wonders if it was a good sign or a bad omen. Was the universe pushing her to do it?

Taking a deep breath, she made a decision then. She would tell Kimberly how she felt, regardless of the outcome or what that "something important" Kim wanted to talk to her about was. She just hoped—prayed, really, to any god that might be listening—that it won't wreck their friendship. She doesn't want to be dramatic—she never was—but she honestly felt she wouldn't be able to take if it does. She would rather be stuck in a crazy time loop fighting Rita again and again by herself than lose the one thing in her life that made everything better. "I'll be there in a few," she texted back. That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Trini found herself standing outside Kimberly's house, looking up at her bedroom window. She took a moment to gather her courage before landing on the flat abutment near Kim's dormer window. Another deep intake of breath and she was knocking on the pane of her best friend's window. When Kimberly opened it with a smile gracing her lips, Trini felt her resolve falter for a moment. "Hey, Trini," Kimberly greeted, her brown eyes a mixture of emotions that played too fast for the shorter girl to grasp. "I'm glad you came." Trini took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "Well, you said it was important. And I...I also have something important I wanted to tell you. Don't think it could wait either." Kimberly's smile faded for a moment. It made Trini feel guilt at being the cause of it. She stepped aside and invited Trini over the window saying, "Well then, come in." As they settled in Kimberly's room, Trini felt the weight of her confession pressing down on her. Kim quirked another smile that was bordering on playful, "So...should you go first, or should I?"

Trini knew that if she didn't go first, she would lose all resolve she had mustered and so she willed herself to volunteer to speak first. Whether Kim was surprised by that or not, she didn't show it. Her face was a mask of smile that Trini chose to interpret as encouraging.

She took another deep breath—which did nothing to calm the loud beating of her heart and the pounding in her ears—and met Kimberly's gaze, her voice steady but filled with vulnerability.

"Kim, I...There is something I've been struggling to admit to myself for a while now." She paused, her hands trembling slightly before she balled them into a fist. "And, I know I'm not one to mince words or say too much, so I'm just going to go ahead and just say it." "Okay...?" there was a hint of confusion now on the taller girl's face despite her lingering smile. "Out with it then." "I... I think I'm in love with you."

[arrimorr]

The Knight is a bit weird under his armor. I would say that's it's not even an armor but a chitinous shell

[emberglowfox]

Keeper -- a short comic about an angel meeting a robotic lighthouse keeper that doesn't know the world has already ended. Made in about 18 hours for a 24-hour 24-page* black and white comic challenge (that I arrived late to, ha.)

*the actual submission does not include the cover, which was created after the fact for this post.

This was a really great learning experience as someone who's... never really made a completed comic. I ended up really attached to the story by the end of the project (possibly due to all-nighter deliriousness lol) and ultimately am very proud of what I made.There are some things I'd still like to change, particularly text placement, but in keeping with the spirit of the challenge I've elected to leave it as is.

[wild-moss-art]

I know they say amnesia is a bad trait in d&d/ttrpgs but in my most recent campaign I made a character who was voluntarily memory wiped for magical powers and gave my dm permission to make up a backstry that I don't even know. So we show up in this town and get intercepted by a bunch of gangsters who were like "heyyy there's our lawyer with no conscience!" and my character is like "well i still dont have a conscience, how hard can law be?" and that's how we started the ace attorney plotline

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

from the start !

so. . what are we ??

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

[aveloka-draws]

Aww Webber! What a precious bean! Bet it shocked the Lamb to see some random kid pop out of a grave, at least without a proper ritual!

A little! But he was welcomed by them pretty quickly. Lamb was left wondering if Narinder caused him to resurrect somehow.

The undertaker is usually the one to take care of Webber, since Lamb is often busy and Narinder is too creeped out to do it. She doesnt seem to mind since she gets someone to ramble to while working.

Thinking Nolen was probably the one who buried the skull while doing rounds around the camp's graveyard, not knowing it would make him appear. So to everyone its a mistery how the lil spider arrived to the cult pff.

[keiitopop]

practice doodle

[bamsara]

quick drop a sketch of my dnd guy

[nachomori-3]

I couldn't resist. More Ear, the hypothetical child of @canisalbus 's oc's Machete and Vasco. Sopping wet thing <3

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Yay, found family beloved. (This video references this post!)

Sir Kingsman is not upset or ashamed at the Huffman siblings dating the same sex (-and from a different genre at that..), rather, he's just pondering whether the partners they've chosen are good or bad for them. Basically, he's looking after his children. Always.

For a man his age, he's pretty tolerant to whatever shenanigans it is these two get up to.

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[puppyeared]

these two are so interesting to me

characters belong to @canisalbus

[filurig]

shapeshifting is something that a basilisk will nearly always seek to do in solitude.

an act which temporarily blinds and numbs the creature from the surrounding world - they will be left completely vulnerable to it. defenseless. frozen inside the shell of their old form as organs and cells rearrange.

to shapeshift in front of someone is, therefore, the ultimate show of trust that a basilisk can perform.

[tekstelart]

Gentle hands

[anura-artist]

wake up babe new oc just dropped. this is Red he is my boy

[ghouljams]

no thoughts just simon roughly undoing your corset at the end of the night. idk how he'd be there without it being seen as improper or whatever or maybe hes your husband but i feel like it'd send me into subspace so quick.. kinda similar to shibari? idk.

The times when he's rough with your stays are few and far between, mostly he unlaces the (newly) double stranded thing with blunt nails that slip against the laces. His own knots so carefully tied keeping you held tight in what may as well be his embrace. His signature is already neatly embroidered on your modesty panel, his words neatly penned in bleeding ink professing all the places his lips would touch. Scandalous delivered before he ever made it to your marriage bed, you might add.

Oh no, Simon is very... deliberate with your stays. Possessive, even. His knot is one you can't undo, one that even he sometimes resorts to pulling between his teeth. It's a security you can't go against, a lock whose only key is held by Simon. He won't even let your maid touch your laces. You sit for him and arch into his touch as he threads one line, then another, and another. His fingers skim your chemise, his breath just barely even. You hang your head to feel his teeth graze the top knob of your spine as he pulls you tight, and takes the first swell of your breath between his fingers.

It's a beautiful thing. A second spine borrowed from your husband's hand. How each crossed thread holds its own knot at the center, how each lace ladders itself to climb up the looping of Simon's signature, his name just barely visible under the knots and laces. No, he doesn't tear at your stays. Swear at them maybe. Tell you he won't tie them so tight next time, a lie. But never tear.

Cut? Well, now that's another thing entirely. And you'd be lying if you said the press of his blade along your spine, slowly carving out your trapped breath, didn't make you squeeze your legs around the hand he'd already buried between them.