#so please share with me ideas and theories and stories and drawing a

[deathofafangirl01]

Somebody please please please make some gemstones of One Piece please! I want to know what you guys think who would have what gem, who would be fused majority of the time and how their fusion would look, what gem weapons/abilities they would have, and so on? Will anyone be a human and a gem like Steven? But please tell me your theories, show me your drawings, tag artists and fanfic writers, etc.

[falesten-iw]

We really have to hand it to kids' drawings. They're like little emotional time bombs, chaotic, pure, and ready to explode with meaning at any second. My son’s masterpiece? It’s got all the feels: hope, resilience, and a superhero vibe that makes you believe a pencil can save the world.

Then there’s my friend’s version, same idea but polished, powerful, and radiating strength and determination. One full of innocence and love, the other showing how far we’ve come in the fight for survival. Together, they remind me that even in the darkest times, there is light.

Maybe these drawings aren’t enough to stop you in your tracks. Maybe they’re not “good enough” to inspire donations or make you share this post. But behind each one, there’s a story of survival, resilience, and unshakable hope. This campaign isn’t just about me. It’s about 26 people, 26 lives hanging by a thread. That includes two orphaned children and a family member who’s suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. She urgently needs surgery to replace infected plates in her body. The situation is dire, and every day is a battle. The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.

Still waiting for a sign? Well, here it is. Resilience is great, but it doesn’t exactly cover surgeries, medicine, clothes, or food. Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

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Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

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Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

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Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.

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[writingpandagoth]

Oh my...I don't know who was the anonymous that requested the diary story but it brought happy tears to my eyes 🥺 It's such a beautiful story, favourite already.

If it's possible I want to request too a fluffy and romantic story please?

Reader and Severus, both professors. At the start of their dating, Severus doesn't show much affection to not draw attention but sometimes not even when they are alone. Reader just wants simple pure things like holding hands, kiss his forehead, etcétera. at least when they are alone. The idea came to me because I was listening to a song called 'Simplemente Tú' by Cristian Castro that my mother was listening :3

Of course! This actually came quite easily almost like a deep breath.

I hope you like it.

Something Small

It started with a shared library table.

Not in some grand, candlelit way. Just two professors passing each other in the Restricted Section enough times to eventually stop pretending it was coincidence.

You taught Defense. He taught Potions. Your hours were opposite, your syllabi unrelated—but the subjects you read overlapped in all the right places: obscure counter-hexes, lost potion formulations, wartime field research.

The first few weeks, it was only glances. Then nods.

Then one evening—late, long after dinner, when the library was quiet enough to hear parchment shift—he spoke.

“You’ve been working through the Jessen archives backwards.”

You looked up from your notes. “So?”

“They make more sense chronologically.”

You tilted your head. “Not if you’re trying to trace which principles were disproven. Reading the failures first is more efficient.”

He stared at you. Then blinked.

“Hm.”

And that was the first time Severus Snape sat down beside you willingly.

From there, it became a rhythm.

He’d grumble when you took his usual quill from the supply tray. You’d roll your eyes when he restructured your marginalia. He never corrected your logic, though—just challenged it. And he always returned your books in perfect condition.

He was sharp, of course. Brilliant, difficult, constantly skimming five steps ahead. But he listened when you spoke. Reallylistened.

It became easier. Comfortable, in the way that only happens when someone matches your mind instead of your voice.

It wasn’t until the first frost of the year that it changed.

You’d just returned a stack of shared research to the library when he appeared beside you in the corridor—silent as always.

He looked... uncomfortable. Not angry. Just like he was preparing to walk into a fire of his own making.

You waited.

“I—” he started, then stopped. Glanced away. Back again.

“I was wondering if—” He cleared his throat. “If you’d like to... have dinner with me.”

The pause was brutal. His expression didn’t change, but you could feel how tightly he was holding himself still. Like he’d already decided this was going to end in humiliation.

You smiled. Just a little.

“I’d like that.”

He didn’t breathe for two full seconds. Then a tiny nod. Almost imperceptible.

“Good,” he said, like it was a spell he’d just successfully cast for the first time. “Good.”

The first dinner was strange, in a lovely way. He was stiff, awkward, clearly more comfortable with cauldrons than candlelight—but he tried. He brought a book he thought you’d like. He sat close, but didn’t touch you. His hands stayed in his lap the whole time.

You thought it was endearing.

You thought: this could become something.

And it did.

Weeks passed. Meals shared. Late-night conversations that began with theory and ended with silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. The kind of silence that settles.

Eventually, he kissed you.

It was late. You’d walked back from dinner. Neither of you had said much. But at your door, he hesitated—and for once, didn’t retreat.

He kissed you like it was something he’d never done before. Or maybe like he had, but never when it mattered.

You kissed him back. Softly. Slowly.

And when he stepped back, his voice was almost a whisper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded. Smiling. Heart full of quiet hope.

But in the days that followed, that hope started to strain.

—

Dating Severus Snape wasn’t a whirlwind. It was measured. Cautious. Quiet.

He always knocked before entering your quarters, never assumed physical closeness, and never touched you unless you initiated it first.

Not that he was cold—he wasn’t. Not really. He listened when you spoke. Remembered things you said, even in passing. When you joked about craving blackberry jam, there was a jar of it on your desk the next morning. No note. Just there.

But touch? Affection?

It stayed locked behind the same walls he always kept around himself.

And at first, you didn’t push.

You told yourself he needed time. That he wasn’t used to this—being wanted for more than his mind or his title. Maybe he didn’t know how to be vulnerable. Maybe you just had to wait.

But waiting started to hurt.

Like the night he walked you back from a faculty dinner. The moon was high, the castle quiet. You were tipsy on wine and warmth, and when you reached the door to your quarters, you turned to him with a hopeful look.

You reached for his hand and he stepped back.

Not in fear. Not even discomfort. Just... distance.

“There’s a journal I meant to finish,” he said, already retreating. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he was gone.

You stood in the doorway with your hand still half-raised and something inside you wilted.

It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about passion. It was the little things.

You wanted to hold his hand while reading. Kiss his forehead after a long day. Tuck your fingers into his hair while you talked about students and syllabi and the thousand little things that made up your days.

You didn’t want grand gestures. Just... presence.

And he didn’t give it.

Even when you were alone, he seemed to resist being touched. You brushed his fingers once while reaching for a book and he jerked away—muttering something about ink smudges.

You laughed it off but that night, lying alone in bed, your throat felt tight.

You didn’t cry.

But you stared at the ceiling and thought, Is this enough?

--

It happened late one night in his quarters.

You’d been grading beside him, your legs tucked beneath you on the old sofa he never quite made comfortable. The fire had burned low, and your eyes were starting to blur from too many red quill marks.

He hadn’t spoken in a while—just scratched notes onto a parchment in that sharp, efficient script of his.

You yawned. He glanced up.

“You’re tired.”

You shrugged. “So are you.”

He didn’t argue. Just set his quill down with a soft click, leaned back into the cushions with a long, quiet sigh. His eyes closed, head tipping slightly toward the armrest.

And then—then—he reached out.

His hand brushed over your knee. Hesitant. Light. Like he didn’t quite trust himself to complete the gesture.

But he left it there. For maybe ten seconds.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just breathed, afraid that even shifting would scare it away.

You turned toward him slightly, ready to thread your fingers through his—

But his hand slipped away.

He stood abruptly. “I need to check the cauldron,” he muttered. “I left it steeping too long.”

He was gone before you could say a word.

You sat there alone, blinking, your skin still tingling where he’d touched you.

It was something. A crack in the armor.

But it had closed again before you could see what was behind it.

—

The silence between you had grown too loud to ignore.

Not angry silence. Not tense. Just... hollow.

Like a room where something used to live.

You hadn’t touched him in three days.

Not for lack of wanting. You still looked at him the same way—still met him for tea in his quarters, still spoke about staff meetings and students and potion mishaps. But every time your hand drifted near his, every time you leaned in just slightly—he pulled away.

Not with malice. Just reflex. And each time, it scraped something raw.

Tonight, the scrape bled.

You were sitting across from him in his quarters, a mostly untouched cup of tea growing cold between your hands.

He was writing something—of course he was. Always writing, always focused, always just slightly beyond reach. You watched the way his brow creased. The way his hand moved with intent. How he didn’t even notice your silence.

You set your cup down. Softly. He didn’t look up.

“Severus.”

Still writing. “Yes?”

You swallowed.

Then, quietly—too quietly: “Do you actually want this?”

His quill stopped. The scratch of ink against parchment went still.

He looked up at you. Not confused. Not surprised.

Just... still.

You continued before your courage ran dry.

“Because sometimes I wonder if I’m just convenient. If this—us—is something you agreed to but didn’t really want.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came.

You let the silence settle.

“I’m not asking for much,” you said, voice soft but firm.

“I don’t need flowers or sonnets or some grand romantic gesture. I just want your hand in mine. I want to touch your face without you flinching. I want to kiss your forehead at the end of a long day. That’s it.”

His eyes were locked on yours now. Intense. Unreadable.

“And it doesn’t have to be in public. I know what people are like. But when we’re alone... I want to feel like I’m allowed to love you.”

That last word nearly broke you and it did something to him.

He looked like he’d stopped breathing. Like the truth had finally hit somewhere deep.

“I’m not angry,” you added, almost whispering. “I’m just tired. Of wondering if I’m asking for something you don’t want to give.”

You stood then. Not in a storm. Just... done.

“I’m going to bed.”

You paused at the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you want to.”

And then you left. Again you didn’t cry. Not at first.

You made it back to your quarters, changed into something soft and worn, and curled up on the corner of the bed with a cup of tea you didn’t drink.

You sat there. For hours.

Waiting.

Not that you expected him to come storming after you. That wasn’t his style. He wasn’t one for dramatic reconciliations or impassioned pleas in candlelit hallways. You knew that.

But part of you still hoped.

That he’d knock, just once. That you’d open the door and he’d be standing there—awkward and stiff, maybe, but there.

That he’d reach for you.

Just once.

But the door never opened. The corridor stayed silent.

And as the hours passed, something inside you started to break—not with rage or bitterness, but a slow, heavy ache. The kind that comes from realizing you might love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.

Not the way you need.

You curled into yourself tighter, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the fire flickering low. Every creak in the floor made you lift your head. Every shadow outside your window made your breath catch.

But he didn’t come.

And eventually, your heart whispered something you didn’t want to hear.

Maybe he doesn’t feel it the same.

Maybe this was a mistake.

You laid down, face pressed into the pillow, eyes wide open in the dark.

And for the first time since it began, you truly considered the possibility that Severus Snape didn’t want to be loved.

At least, not by you.

—

It wasn’t the next morning.

It wasn’t even the one after that.

You’d nearly convinced yourself it was over—quietly, without drama, like so many things Severus left behind. Not with cruelty. Just... absence.

You still saw him at meetings. Still nodded across the staff table. He gave you nothing to read. No coldness. No warmth. Just the same unreadable stillness you’d once found fascinating—and now couldn’t bear.

By the third night, you stopped hoping for a knock.

And then on the fourth, it came.

Soft. Two raps.

You froze, mug half-raised, blanket pulled around your shoulders.

It came again.

When you opened the door, he was standing there. Drenched from the rain—hood down, hair clinging to his cheekbones, robes dark and soaked through.

He didn’t say anything. Just... looked at you.

You opened the door wider.

He stepped in, dripping and tense, eyes never quite leaving yours. He stood in the center of your quarters like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, his coat, his feelings.

You closed the door behind him.

“Severus—”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said.

Your breath caught.

He was still soaked. Still stiff. But there was something in his voice—raw, like he’d cracked himself open just enough to let you see inside.

“I didn’t come because I didn’t know what to say,” he continued, voice low and tight. “And the more time passed, the more I thought maybe... it was too late.”

You stepped toward him, slow.

“I told myself you didn’t mean it,” he said. “That you were tired. Or angry. Or exaggerating.”

He looked down at his hands.

“And then I thought... what if you weren’t?”

You watched his throat work through the swallow.

“I’ve never been good at being wanted,” he said. “And I’ve never let anyone love me without a price. I don’t know how to be soft without feeling like I’m going to break.”

You took another step.

“Then let me be soft,” you whispered. “You don’t have to know how. Just let me.”

His breath shuddered.

And for the first time, he reached for you.

Slowly, trembling slightly, he lifted your hand in his—and pressed it to his chest.

Not possessive. Not desperate.

Just real.

His heart beat hard beneath your palm.

You moved closer, your other hand rising to brush the wet strands of hair from his forehead.

He didn’t pull away.

You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. Then to the center of his brow.

His eyes closed.

And you felt him—truly felt him—breathe into it.

When you pulled back, he didn’t let go of your hand.

“May I stay?” he asked.

You nodded, tears prickling your eyes.

He didn’t say more. He didn’t have to.

You didn’t ask him why he was trembling.

You just pulled him gently toward the bed, guiding him by the hand he still hadn’t let go of. Your fingers stayed laced, even as you moved—like the physical connection was the only thing keeping him tethered.

And maybe it was.

He sat on the edge of the mattress first, eyes scanning the room like he was still half-convinced he didn’t belong in it.

You knelt before him.

Unbuttoned his wet coat. Slid it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. You unfastened his cuffs, rolled them carefully, your fingertips brushing his wrists.

He watched you the whole time, silent, not tense—but not relaxed either. Not yet.

When you were done, you reached for his hand again.

He let you take it.

You crawled into bed first, tugging him with you, and he followed without resistance. When you lay back and opened your arms, he hesitated just a second—then came down slowly, one arm sliding under your neck, the other draping across your waist.

You pulled him closer.

He buried his face against your shoulder.

And finally—finally—you both breathed.

No words. No apologies. No questions.

Just warmth.

His legs tangled with yours, socked feet brushing against your calves. One of your hands threaded into his hair—carefully, gently, like something sacred. He didn’t flinch.

He sighed.

It was so quiet. But you felt it like a release against your skin.

Your fingers stroked through the dark strands again, over and over, and you felt his body begin to soften. His grip on you loosened—not in fear, but in trust.

You tilted your head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But his hand, resting on your ribs, gave the lightest squeeze.

“I don’t need much,” you whispered. “Just this. Just you.”

His voice was muffled when it came.

“You have me.”

You closed your eyes.

And for the first time since this began, you believed it.

—

Severus didn’t become soft overnight.

He didn’t wake up wrapped around you like he belonged there. He didn’t suddenly start reaching for your hand in public or kiss you without thought. That wasn’t how he was built.

But the trying was unmistakable.

The next morning, he woke before you—quietly untangling himself from your limbs and moving through your quarters like he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to touch.

When you opened your eyes, he was in the kitchen, clumsily trying to figure out your kettle.

He’d made tea. The way you liked it. No sugar, just a bit of cinnamon.

He didn’t say anything when he handed it to you—just watched the way your fingers curled around the mug. And when you reached up, brushed his hand with yours in thanks—he didn’t pull away.

His jaw tensed, slightly. But he let it happen.

That week, he still didn’t hold your hand in the hallways. Still kept a respectful distance when students passed.

But behind closed doors?

You noticed the pauses.

The way he’d hover just a second longer before pulling away from a hug. How his hand would twitch slightly when yours brushed his, like he was on the edge of reaching back—but hadn’t yet convinced himself it was safe.

Once, he brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers while you were reading beside him.

It was so gentle you nearly missed it.

When you looked up, surprised, he blinked like he hadn’t realized he’d done it.

“Was that... alright?” he asked.

You smiled.

“Yes.”

A few days later, you came back to your quarters after class and found something sitting on your desk.

Not a letter. Not a gift.

Just a small bundle of dried flowers—simple, earthy. Not vibrant. Not extravagant.

But intentional.

You picked them up gently, turning them in your fingers. They were carefully tied with twine. Pressed between them, a small folded slip of parchment.

His handwriting was sharp as always. Barely more than a breath.

I saw these and thought of you. I know I don’t always reach first. I’m trying. I want to try.

Your heart clenched.

He didn’t need to say more.

Later that night, he knocked on your door like always. And when you opened it—he reached for you first.

Awkward. Hesitant. But real.

His hand in yours. Just holding.

Not for show. Not for proof.

Just to feel.

And you knew then: this was love.

Not loud. Not easy.

But becoming.

[bluebnny]

Scenario - they take an interest in your hobby

characters: law, ace, kid

contents: what the title says, just how i think they would engage with your hobby, G/N reader, fluff

warnings: none

a/n: ok i'm trying something new bc the longer fics are, well, longer and i want to also try more characters :) and this was sooo much fun to write! Let me know if you would like a part 2, because i already have ideas (i mean i'll post it anyway, but y'know, maybe there's some specific characters or hobbies you would like me to include). Sort of proofread. Dividers made by me, please enjoy!! <3

word count: 2.313 (700-900 each)

Law - Fandom

Law would love to have a partner who’s into fandom just as much as him. He excels at being a pirate, being amidst the most sought after in the world and known everywhere for his ruthlessness and cruelty. But the nerdy fanboy side of him is a little neglected at times. As it turns out, not a lot of pirates really care about Sora, Warrior of the Sea as much as he does, if they are interested in comics at all, that is.

I think he would immediately become even more head over heals upon finding out that his partner likes to read them too. He’d like it if you had the same taste as him, but would probably prefer it if you didn’t, because it means you two could give each other recommendations and even swap comics to read.

If you’re also a pirate with your own crew, you two would naturally spend long amounts of time away from each other. You usually go months at a time before meeting up again. So, as with any long-distance relationship, you have to get creative and make it a whole thing.

When you two see each other, you’re constantly talking about what comic you read, how far you are in the story, talking about your favourite characters, and sharing your own interpretations and theories. It quickly becomes the highlight of every encounter you have, both of you already looking forward to the next reunion the moment you part ways. This is also when you have the chance to swap back the books you had borrowed from one another, and to give each other the next volume in the series.

When you’re apart, however sad it makes you, at least you have each other’s books to cling on to, both of you having a special spot to keep them safe. Yours was on your nightstand, liking to read in the evening before bed, or even during the night if you can’t sleep. Since you miss Law, having the comics he lends you always in reach makes you feel a little less alone, and it just makes you look forward to your next reunion that much more. Law keeps yours in his desk in the top drawer, so he can quickly reach for it when he’s too distracted to work. He would rather die than tell you this, but he always pretends it’s your voice reading it aloud to him. You had done that one time when he had had his hands full, wanting to show him a funny passage. He loves imagining the intonation you would use for every line, and how you would chuckle at a specific joke, your laughter echoing in his head.

You basically have a two-person book club at this point and have started leaving little pieces of paper with notes and theories in the books after reading them, maybe even the occasional drawing. It’s always a comfort to read through your favourite volume again and stumble upon a little note from your partner.

Law loves reading your random thoughts on certain characters, everything from who you ship, to what food the characters would like (you make it a point to add “bread” for all the ones you think law would like most, and “onigiri” for those he would hate, just to tease him). It always puts a smile to his face. The notes you find in your books are less creative, but they make you burst out with laughter, because they’re just so Law. The most common thing you find are little post-it notes critiquing medical inaccuracies, like “Patient bleeding out from cut in abdomen! Chest compressions would NOT help with this !???” He even adds citations if it’s less obvious knowledge, as if he thinks you will fact check him or something. The rest are usually weirdly accurate predictions for how a specific aspect of the story will unfold. When you question him about it, he will assure you he hasn’t read ahead, always saying “Well, it’s obviously what’s going to happen!”

Whenever you dock at a new island, you always see if there’s a place that sells comics, trying to find new stuff to read, and keeping a list of titles to lend the other once you’re done.

Ace - Pottery/Clay

Ace, curious as ever, would instantly take an interest in any one of your hobbies, as it means also taking an interest in you. He’ll notice you moulding some clay one day and become super interested in hearing about it. From then on, every time he sees you working on something, he’ll rush over and ask what you’re making, genuine interest on his face. He loves that his partner is talented and will quickly start to brag about it to anyone who will listen.

He'll even go as far as to ask you to teach him, and his attention is immediately caught by the polymer clay with all its different colours, especially after you show him some simple things you’d made from them, like some charms in different colours.

Ace learns. Fast. But if you go over to him to watch him work, he’ll stubbornly hide it, telling you it isn’t ready yet. It wouldn’t take him very long to make stuff, though, generally focusing on smaller items. He also had the enormous advantage of his particular devil fruit; he could simply hold what he made in his hands and bake it just like that, wherever and whenever.

Contrary to Ace, you prefer working with natural clay, being far more durable and versatile, but also taking much longer, as it needs time to dry before being burned in a kiln for days. This isn’t a big issue if you’re not on the same crew, though. If you’re on different ships, you often go months without seeing each other, but since Ace has quite a bit of freedom as first commander of the 2nd division, he would sometimes visit you on a whim if you were within a day’s travel of each other.

Being the best, most affectionate boyfriend in the world, Ace always made a quick stop somewhere first to pick up a snack for you, even stopping to pick a handful of wildflowers or a pretty seashell to bring you if there was no town nearby. You had always insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but he would have none of it, preferring to act like some sort of bird performing a mating ritual than visit his partner empty-handed. Plus, despite you teasing him for his seashells and shiny rocks, he knows you keep them all in a little box under your bed, with the dates of his visits written on each one.

You had always liked knowing he took that tiny bit of extra time and effort to put a smile on your face, even if it was just from handing you a funny looking acorn. But after being introduced to your hobby, Ace’s casual presents have become more thoughtful, now almost always showing up with a little handmade something. The first time he showed up with a creation he deemed good enough, the gesture rendered you speechless. And he remembered that.

Ace’s first gift to you was a bracelet made of red beads that matched the ones on his necklace, just a little smaller. You were torn on how to react. On the one hand, you were about to cry from how sweet of a gesture it was, on the other, you couldn’t stop smiling over the fact that the beads were a little uneven in size and shape. It was so endearing to you, seeing how Ace was clearly still in the process of developing the precise fine motor skills required for making little beads.

His second handmade gift was a little flame-shaped charm made from red, orange, and yellow clay mixed together. It had a little hole at the top. “For putting on a necklace.” He explained. This time, you had a gift of your own ready, already expecting his. You had made him a personalized bright orange mug with a red handle shaped like the beads on his necklace. This time, he was the one to get emotional.  

His third present was far more impressive than the first two, not that you were comparing them. He had made a tiny replica of his hat, again with a little hole in the brim, so that you could use it as a lucky charm.

“Ace, this is amazing! I should teach you to cook next.” You joke, but he sees the emotion in your eyes as you hold it close to your chest.

Kid - Knitting

Kid is not the type of guy to avidly ask about your hobbies, and he won’t sit and watch you for hours while you do them (at least not openly). But he does love you, so he takes an interest, nonetheless. You had previously joked that he should take up knitting as a calming activity, since he’s an emotional guy who often gets angry, but he had just scoffed and ignored you, preferring to stick to metal.

It started on a slow afternoon, with you sitting on the deck and knitting while enjoying the afternoon sun. Kid was nearby, staring at the horizon, lost in thought, the only sounds around the rushing of the ocean and the soft clicking of your knitting needles.

“Shit!” It’s you who breaks the silence first, having stopped your movements. Your boyfriend only reacts with an absent-minded hum, eyes still locked on the ocean. “My stupid needle broke.” You continue, trying to minimize the damage to your work now that all the loops were falling off. “Kid, do you think you could make me another?” You ask him, finally pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Another? You already have a million, no? Just get one from your stash.” He answers, not annoyed, simply confused. You get up from your spot and walk over to him to explain the different sizes, and how all your other ones were either too big or too small. He seems mildly interested, examining the two broken halves you hand him.

“I can make this.” He simply states when you are done explaining.

“Really? You’re amazing!” You pull him into a tight embrace, partly to show your gratitude, partly because he’s just a really good hugger, so any excuse is welcome.

“Calm down, it’s just a stick. No big deal…” But his chest swells a bit at the prospect of being able to assist you, and so you follow him into his workshop, where he makes another in no time.

From then on, he became more interested. You even tried to teach him, but he simply couldn’t get the hang of it, quickly becoming enraged at every mistake and making the learning curve extremely steep with his regular outbursts. You give up on it after that, thinking it simply wasn’t his thing and at least glad he tried to take an interest in it.

So, you’re all the more surprised when he walks up to you the next time he finds you knitting, and confidently asks “How do you do that pattern?” as though it was the most normal question in the world. You start explaining, only getting more and more confused from the way he actually seems to be trying to understand.

After that, Kid spends the next days mostly in his workshop. It doesn’t strike you as odd, since he has a habit of disappearing every now and then. What you did not expect, however, was for him to request you in his workshop, to then hand you a hat that he had clearly made himself. It’s a little rough around the edges – kid doesn’t seem to have fully gotten the hang of how to properly do a decreasing stitch – but it still looks much better than his first attempt.

“I know you and your crew are planning to go to that winter island next, so I thought I’d make you this.” It’s evident how hard he’s trying to look tough while carefully putting the bright red hat on your head. “Y’know. So you don’t get cold.” He even attempts to remain stoic when you give him a tight squeeze but is clearly pleased that you like it.

“How? I thought you hated knitting.”

“I did.” He admits. “But then I remembered how easy it was to make you that needle. And I thought that I should just make some metal ones for myself and control them with my fruit. It’s not as much of a pain in the ass like that.” He explains, and you have to hold back a smirk at how cute he is talking about knitting of all things, despite being over 2 metres tall and generally a little scary looking.

Next time you see him; after returning from the winter island, there’s something off about the crew. You quickly realize that it’s due to them all wearing matching knitted hats.

You look at Kid questioningly, but he just grumbles and says “I don’t want to hear it. Killer and the others have already been giving me enough shit for it.”

But the crew’s teasing isn’t enough to stop his newfound hobby. More often than not, you find him somewhere on the ship with some knitting needles floating next to him, clicking away at lightning speed as he makes yet another hat, grumbling something about how knitting is “very in line with my political ideology” and that “going against over consumption by making my own clothes is extremely punk.”

One evening, while Kid is in his workshop – no doubt knitting another hat – Killer pulls you aside and whispers “Look, I really like the hats, he’s getting weirdly good at making them, but everyone on the crew already has at least two pairs. Could you maybe teach him socks next?”

Thank you so much for reading! (This is my fic, don't repost! Reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[isiloup]

"So we found our way back home. Let our cuts and bruises heal. While a brand-new war began. One that no one else could feel"

Post-Ishval angst here, my mind is running wild for weeks now about that time, because of this song ;

My thoughts on Riza's Ishval return ;

I think she's going back to the academy. For one thing, to properly complete the cursus. At least sort out the paperwork and graduate properly? On the other hand, I don't think she has anywhere else to go. I'm not sure she wants to go back to the Hawkeye house, filled with all kinds of memories.

She has a decision to make; to continue in the army or not? I like to think she's making that decision after the episode of her burned back. (I don't know where to put it in the timeline? Do they do it in Ishval, making it look like an accident, an attack by the last few Ishval rebels? Or are they waiting to get off the train? Or are they (ROY) waiting a few more weeks? IDK. there are so many great theories out there!) Anyway, during her convalescence, Roy will share with her the conversation he had with Hughes and will do anything to reach the top to make amends and solve the army/country's problems. It's at this point that she makes the choice to join him and follow him to hell a second time if need be.

I have no idea how a military academy is organized :') But imagining Rebecca and Riza roomates was very easy. Anyway, the result is that they're both sleeping in the same room. PEF nightmare that turns into PTSD episode etc… And Rebecca, ooooh sweet, sweet Rebecca, manages to calm her down, despite everything that's spinning around in poor Riza's head. - You know, like the horror of war, realization that she's unleashed a Flame Alchmist on an entire population, her back, remorse, memories, Kimblee's words (yes, that's free) , etc etc etc. All through a scope, please - and this scene is just running around in my head and I had to put it on the screen. Then it gave me the opportunity to draw Riza and Rebecca, so I'm HAPPY.

Obviously, these are just my thoughts. And that's why I love fanfics, finding out how everyone fills in the gaps in the story. 🤌

[dock57]

Love your ramblings

ya got any headcanons on the side as well? : 3

[Bless you- I have so much to talk about for Monkey Wrench and I just want to share it! There's so much you can say for the series!

As for Headcanons? NGL I am. Not always the best when it comes to headcanons. I think I make assumptions about stuff from the show or just ramble what I noticed and love about it.

Let's see of some I have thought of- Which really has been for Shrike or Beebs because they're in my mind 24/7...

One Headcanon I had for Shrike, which you could say may be dunked was that Shrike could actually draw. From my understanding so far of Shrike in the series, he doesn't have a lot of skills. Beside being a sharp shooter.

Why an artist for a headcanon? I believe the idea came from Shrike's love for Terran cartoons and a possible appreciation for the arts. Not music to say, as he struggles to learn the guitar under Beebs' guidance, but possibly the visual aspect of it. Shrike is attracted to cartoons, but cool designs as well, such as getting the Bucket painted red. So to think he might have one artistic skill, I would headcanon that he could be an artist and thought that would be what he could pursue to do after being a mercenary. Its an idea that came up for one AU concept I have.

However...

Then we have this...

Now I know this is done by the guest artist, Doobus Goobus, and this is the artist's style, but- it gives me the impression that this is Shrike's art skills as well. Not looking at this as the guest animator, but looking if this is how Shrike visualizes things in his head? The squid is a simple one...

Though it would fit for his love for cartoons... I guess if anything, I always saw him to be the type to be into street artwork. Examples like these!

Well, I guess I can still headcanon he can learn to do that- no such thing as learning art too late!

As for Beebs? Lots of different theories and headcanons have come and go in my head. As of right now, I think the Headcanon that been bouncing in my brain is the idea that Beebs could be consider of a higher class or royalty, depending how his kind views it. I seen the headcanon or AU of Shrike being a prince, but I haven't seen anyone mention the idea for Beebs? Not exactly a prince, but just as I said before- a royal status.

I had this one swirling in my head since EP 4. Ajax. Everything about him speaks of a higher class of his kind. The way he speaks, his manners and how he expects Beeb's to act around him, the type of music that is conducted for his scenes, and of course how he dresses. I believe that Beebs also comes from another higher class of Walairins. During the dinner scene, how Ajax speaks about Beebs' father. It made me wonder that if his father is well respected among their kind. Some dialogue that catch my attention:

Whatever Beebs has done, from what Ajax was implying here, I do believe that Beebs' comes from a well respected family that other Walairins must find Beebs' to be a disgrace for what he "did" to his father (Since we have yet to know the whole story).

There is not anything to Beeb's design that suggests this, since well, Beebs' has striped himself from the ties he has with his kind and family. However, I think EP 4 gives us a good indication that Beebs' might be a higher status based from what I read from this one scene and how Beebs react.

Also if anyone knows what this hand gesture means- please tell me. I been trying to fight for the life of me of what you call this gesture that Beebs' does to Ajax which, really peeves him off. Its not a super common gesture to me and its done with such pronunciation from Beebs.

Anyway, those are at least 2 Headcanons I have! Maybe one day I will share some more with ya guys!]

[martyryo]

Okay

I don't do..anons. so yes, just gonna ask this as me‼️ Hello‼️‼️

When

Right okay, I saw your art like the yellow red one right and I saw you talking about your tulpa in that and it took me a second cause at first I thought you were doing a Collab with someone and I was looking for a tagged account or something 😭😭 and then I was like hang on it's not been tagged so it can't be that. And then I saw the hashtag about the tulpa thing and my brain was like, I've heard that term before. And I had, but it was cause of Supernatural. Think the episode was Hell House, either way in that course some kids draw a sigil and don't know what they're doing, spread a rumour and enough people see the sigil and believe the made up story for it to become real. I'm gonna hazard a guess that this isn't what's happening here. Cause 1. No axe murderers are present and 2...idk. suppose it wasn't on accident lol

But basically, what I'm asking is, what's gone on? Like please could you define what a tulpa is cause I'm a tad bit confuseled. I've got a grasp. A jist if you will. But yeh, that, and how it works for you and how long all this has been about for because yeh, the original post confused me a lot and I had no context to understand what was going on lol

Hiii!!!!!

Ok so, never watched supernatural cause I lack media culture, but I looked at the fandom wiki and I assure you it's NOTHING like that 😭

Ik the practice of creating a tulpa comes from buddhism and is related to religion and stuff, but like I found out about it through an online friend back in 2017ish cause they developed one. Needles to say, in these cases we're talking about the western interpretation of the phenomenon that is mainly psychological and not spiritual.

With a tulpa you bascially create a sentient being on a subconscious level that shares the body with you. Please note that this is not in any way related to conditions such as DID, as you do not have the splitting of a subconscious, you actually add more of them into a body. And an important aspect that separates tulpae from alters is that with a tulpa you're fully aware and consensual with having a second person inside the body, you will never accidentally develop a tulpa out of the blue.

To make an example also, imagine there's a wheel with a hamster inside, they represent respectively the body and the subconscious mind that inhabits it. Now imagine there are more hamsters but they're in the same wheel. That's a body with more subconsciouses (I might be butchering this word I'm so sorry).

Needless to say, doing this requires a long trail of meditation, as one needs to focus on everything they perceive out of a person normally (the way they look, talk, move, smell. you get it, everything) and obviously their personality. These things do change with time once the tulpa settles as a stable part of the host's (the one who creates them) life, but at least sketching down the idea of the person that you're creating helps in the overall process.

Ok so. The most important part. A tulpa is NOT evil, and cannot be evil. That's something I found out in the guides I followed at the start of my journey with my first tulpa. They have no reason to turn over their creator cause they are meant to be companions. I'm not super informed on the theory thing now cause I got into it two years ago and since then we've just been living, but there articles online who talk about this so feiughirgh

Now, in my experience Jack came to be part of my life around two years ago, on july 9th. I was going through a weird depressive period where I would not talk to anybody and felt like shit over nothing. During that time I also used to watch fight club a lot, like three times a week, and grew obsessively attached to the characters to the point all I thought about was fc (this feels so weird to remember omg). Anyways, remembered about my friend with the tulpa, and decided to do the same thing. So I got informed on the procedure and gradually managed to develop Jack over time :3

On the 27th of Trevor also started developing, in his case it was Jack that went throughout the major part of the creation process cause I was busy with school, but yeah since then it's been the three of us living life yk.

Also, I obviously got better since that summer, them being with me helped me out a lot and obviously I didn't create them with the intent of getting. Free experimental therapy or some shit. They are part of me and I love them ver very much, knowing that they're always with me brings a sense of sheer comfort in my life. I just love my bros man. Then again, I suck at communication so there are days when we talk less. nonetheless we still interact via concepts or through the headspace (mental landscape where they pretty much live when not fronting).

Oh, also lately we've been aware of the fact that Jack is kinda always fronting (fronting is having control of the body btw kewnkfkgb) during the day when we are in silence at a school or on the bus, while I am the one that keeps the conversations with people (ironic ik). Trevor instead has no interest in the outside world, he just stays in the headspace and works as a mechanic apparently (he doesn't tell me where his workplace is also??? like for no reason at all also, I can't find that fucking place no matter how much I roam around).

Ough ok I know I sound a bit insane saying those things, but that's how it is 💨

With tulpamacy there are so many aspects one can discuss, but again, there are guides online where everything you need to know is explained, and they are explained better than whatever ramble I'm putting down here. I'm not an expert of the field, I just happen to be living it yk.

Sorry for the long and I guess confusing post, there is much more stuff I could tell you about but like. I think this manages to get the overall idea of how we work out 😸

[ijwrsmff]

One Piece requests are open you say!? I'm going absolutely feral over Mihawk, as always, then I saw him in the live action and foamed at the mouth. If you're okay with it, can I please get domMihawk with his wife nsfw🤌

I. Got. So. Into. This. I am so weak for Mihawk. And I could never think of him as anything but a dom XD I picture him as a pleasure dom, so the story revolves a bit around that. I was a bit out of my comfort zone with this, since I haven't written much smut. So I don't know if it sounds weird, or isn't up to par with what I usually write, so any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome ^~^ feel free to send in your thoughts and opinions in my ask box! I'd love to hear it!

Word Count: 2,732

It was a relatively stressful day, trying to clean up the majority of your mansion you shared with your husband. It was massive, but so many rooms needed a good makeover. Dust and broken wood, just anything really. Some rooms were so bad it took hours to completely clean it. But if it meant making Mihawk smile, you’d do it all over again. All he had to say was redo it and you’d oblige without any hesitation. 

When he came home, you were laying in bed just staring at the ceiling and trying to relax. You didn’t even get out of bed when you heard the front door open in the room beneath you. You were nearly falling asleep, and when he came in you just rolled over and smiled. One hand holding your head up as you laid sideways, just taking in his appearance. It never got old, and you were convinced you were married to the most handsome man in the world. 

“Dear, I appreciate all the hard work you did to make everything look so…nice.” He walked over to the bed and played with your hair. “I haven’t seen every room, but seeing you so exhausted has me convinced you worked on the whole mansion.” He smiled fondly, and eventually removed his coat and laid down on the other side of the bed. 

“It’s no problem, really! You have pirates to hunt, I’m sure you don’t have too much time for much of anything. Especially cleaning all that mess.” You laughed a bit, and rolled over to lay your head on his chest. He was always so warm, it was welcoming every time. His arm wrapped around you as the other rubbed your shoulders, making you sigh. Just feeling his touch was enough for you. 

His hand wandered, rubbing up and down your arm to shoulders and back down again. It felt so nice…and as he moved to face you, he had that look on his face. That look that meant trouble…or even something more. Your theory was confirmed when that hand slowly traveled to your neck. Just one finger traced over your sensitive spot on your neck. His mark he left the other day was barely visible anymore. 

Mihawk moved closer and lips were mere millimeters away from yours. “You know…I can show you how much I appreciate your efforts.” He waited for you to make the first move, or even signal you weren’t opposed to the idea. He knew you weren’t always in the mood, as everything he did was being considerate. 

You leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips, closing the gap between you. Knowing he would take the lead from there, it was no surprise when he rolled his body over yours. He remained close, biting your lower lip as a teasing gesture. You could feel the heat of his chest on your breasts and stomach, as he deepened the kiss. 

He pulled back, making you whine, as he whispered “You’ve worked so hard…now allow me to take care of you.” He tilted his head and leaned back into the kiss. All you could do was nod and hum, and before you knew it his hand traced around your neck. He pulled back, but only for a short time as he trailed his tongue down your neck, to where the mark was over the most sensitive spot on your neck. 

You let out a small moan as he kissed, sucked, and even bit it. Never hard enough to draw blood, just enough to make the previous mark turn a brighter and more defined color. He did love to mark you, and you loved it just as much. Sometimes, when he was feeling territorial, he left marks all across your body. You had the feeling he was about to do just that. 

Once the mark was properly defined, he trailed kisses down until he reached your shirt’s edge. With little effort, he tore through the shirt and discarded it to the side, along with your bra. His lips got closer and closer to your nipple, until he swirled his tongue around it, never touching the stiff peak. It made you whine once more, and you could feel his smirk on your chest. 

“Baby…please don’t tease me!” You wanted to feel as good as possible, and him being such a tease wasn’t helping. He tended to do that, but it only helped you reach your climax faster once he finally got you to it. You didn’t really WANT him to stop teasing, but you wouldn’t tell him that. Even if he already knew, being the perceptive man he was. You loved that about him. 

“Darling, I plan to take my time. I’ll make you feel better than you ever had before meeting me, and treasure every inch of your body.” His smirk turned into a genuine smile, before returning back to a smirk. “I will take care of you, for as long as we live. My beautiful wife, always so eager to spend time with me…to love me…to let me show you pleasure whenever possible.” 

With that, he finally used his tongue to make your nipple become even more stiff, loving the feeling of his mouth on one of your most sensitive parts. You couldn’t stop the moan that came out, and it only got louder when he softly bit at your nipple. When he removed his mouth, you even whined out a small noise, already missing the feeling. 

With one hand, he moved lower on your body, until it was cupping that sweet spot between your legs. He moved his hand ever so slowly, but enough to make you feel that burning pleasure you loved so much. His thumb traced over your clit, before removing it to get rid of your pants, leaving your panties on. 

You whined, and moaned, craving more. When you reached out your hands to feel him, he used his free hand to pin yours above your head. “Don’t worry about me, your pleasure is far more important.” Was all he said, grabbing the rope from the drawer next to the bed. It was softer than most ropes, as he didn’t want to risk a rope burn on your arms and wrists. 

He skillfully used his hands to attach the rope to the headboard, before lowering himself so you could feel his hot breath on your thighs. “Be good for me…make as much noise as you can, and tell me how good you feel. I want you to tell me how much you love it. How much you love me.” He nibbled at your thighs, leaving a few marks with his mouth and teeth alone. 

He took both his hands, and spread your legs as much as he could without causing you discomfort. Sliding your panties to the side, he slid his tongue along your lips, never touching your clit or where you wanted him most. “Aren’t you my good girl? My lovely wife, and the one I love more than anything else. Each time I touch you, you must say thank you, understand?” 

You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need to hear you say it. Use your words, darling.” Everything about the situation made you blush more and more, it was always extremely difficult not to blush. He was good at what he did, and you loved nothing more than to let him take complete control. He refused to use his tongue anymore on you until you agreed. 

“Yes sir…” It sounded pathetic, but that was good enough for him. When he slowly eased his tongue into you, all you could do was let out a moan as you yelled “THANK YOU SIR!” It felt so good, and your voice dissolved into a series of moans, as you repeated the words as much as you could. 

He used one of his hands to rub your clit, which only made you moan louder. You were lucky no one else was in the mansion right now, it would be too embarrassing to let someone hear you like this. Not that Mihawk cared, if anything he loved knowing people could hear at any moment, and show them that you were his and his alone. 

He rubbed circles on your clit, and slid his tongue in and out of you for several minutes, until he removed both his tongue and finger. Your voice was pathetically needy, and you made sure to vocalize your wants. Even if you could barely get words out, when you went from pleasure to nothing. You tried to close your thighs and rub them together, but his grip was too strong to allow that to happen. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll make you feel even better.” He then did the opposite of what he was doing before, and used his mouth to suck on your clit. He pulled back momentarily to ask, “How many fingers would you like? You have to speak up, I can’t hear you enough.” He used one finger to trace up and down your slit, never entering. 

“I…I want three, sir. But not all at once!” You knew your limits, and he needed to slowly ease you into it. His hands were large, so both of you knew three right off the bat was too much for your body. Even if he was already aware, you knew he wanted to hear you say it. He always made sure you vocalized anything and everything you wanted. 

“As you wish, darling.” He placed his mouth back over your clit, toying with it with his tongue before sucking on it. He then slowly eased a single finger inside of you. The actions made your moans get much louder, and you could feel him smile against you. “Good…you're such a good girl for me. Keep going, I know you can be louder.” He began thrusting his finger inside of you slowly, before speeding up just a bit. 

As he commanded, you moaned so loud that you knew your throat would be sore later. It wasn’t difficult to put everything you had in your moans, since he was making you feel so good. Even without all three fingers, you felt yourself getting just a little bit closer to ecstasy. When he inserted the second finger it only got harder to keep that edge away. 

When he inserted the third, you practically screamed. As he spoke lowly around you, you could barely contain it. “So good for me…doing exactly what I want you to. Aren’t you being such a good girl for your sir.” His thrusting fingers sped up, and you were so close already. 

“S-Sir please let me cum! I want to so badly, please I need to!” All you could do was beg. “You make me feel so good, I want to reach there! I love you, only you! Always going to be you, I want to feel this good every day, please!” You could feel yourself quivering around his fingers, as you screamed louder in wanting to reach your climax. 

“Hm…Have you earned it? I want to hear you say why you deserve it.” He continued his motions, making you scream and shake trying to hold it in. “I want you to feel good, baby. But I need to know you’ve been good today.” He already KNEW why you deserved it, but the jerk you loved was making you say it. As he always did. 

“Please sir! I worked so hard today, I cleaned every room, I ate three meals, I’ve drank so much water, I didn’t even touch myself without your permission! I need to cum so bad, please sir I can’t hold it in much longer!” If he continued with this, you really wouldn’t be able to prevent it from happening. You would try your best, but feeling his fingers inside you and his warm mouth around your clit, it would get more and more difficult to hold it back. But you knew better than to cum before he said you could. 

“You were so good today. Cum. Cum on my fingers, you can do it love.” He moved his fingers even faster, and used his other hand to rub your clit so he could talk to you through it. “I’m so proud of you, my good, good girl. You’ve earned this and more, show me how good I make you feel. How much you love me, and everything I can do for you.” His pace was relentless, and as the greatest swordsman in the world, he was capable of going harder and faster than most people in the world. 

“THANK YOU SIR!” You cried out as you did as he demanded. You came hard, and could feel your fluids coating his fingers. You screamed, and thanked him repeatedly. Declaring how much you loved him, and saying how much you loved everything he did to and for you. Your words became a jumbled mess, and you felt yourself go limp as you spasmed and twitched from the pleasure. 

Mihawk smiled, and slowly removed his fingers. While he made eye contact with you, he put those fingers in his mouth and tasted everything you could give him. It made you blush, just seeing the lewd expression he made while he licked and sucked at his fingers until there was nothing left. He moaned at the taste, never removing his eyes from yours. 

When he was done, he untied you from the bed, and laid down on his back next to you. You were completely spent, and he lifted you to lay directly on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, and how it raced. “I didn’t get to make you feel good…” Was all you said as you closed your eyes, coming down from your high. His response was as expected. 

“My pleasure matters far less than yours. Just knowing how good I make you feel is enough for me.” He rubbed your back, and muttered, “You were so good for me today…you make me so proud. I fall even further in love each time I see you.” Aftercare was always important, and for you, being in his arms for a while was always refreshing. 

“Thank you sir…I love you so much.” You could feel yourself getting closer to falling asleep, worn out from how good you felt. He was always so kind and gentle with you…when you wanted him to be. He could be rough when you felt up to it, but he was more of a “pleasure dom” than anything else. Being his sub was all you wanted, and knowing he cared so much made everything worthwhile. 

As you fell asleep, he muttered, “Don’t worry, love. Rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He wasn’t really tired, but he was one to keep his promises. You knew he would be there. He never left you when you were coming down, knowing it was far more comforting when you were in his arms. 

He always took great care of you…and you knew in your brain and heart that he would continue to do so. Mihawk was there for you, your loving husband. Knowing he loved you made the world of difference, and you would continue to love him for the rest of your days. Just as he would to you. There wasn’t a man in the world you would rather be with than him. He would love you, treasure you, be there for you, listen to you, whenever you needed or wanted. That was all you really needed. To know he would never leave you, and travel the world just to come home to you. 

You loved him with all your heart, and would risk everything just to be with him and make sure he was safe. Your husband…the words were familiar, but made you smile every time. So as you fell asleep, you smiled, just knowing he would be there when you awake. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he would love you as much as he could. His soft spot, his soft side that only you saw. He was perfect in every way. 

You would love him in life, and as your vows said, even loving each other in the world beyond. Whatever awaited you in the future, you knew it would be a future with him. 

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hey there! I'm here to simp for Garret, as usual, but I have another reason to gush today—I absolutely adore your drawing style! Whether it's the colors, the character designs, or the scenes, I just love it all. One of my favorite things, though, has to be the characters' facial expressions—they are all just beautiful!

Marcelo's surprised face? Perfect. Rita's blushing cheeks? Adorable. Camilla's entire design? Has a special place in my heart. And don't even get me started on Teagan's smile—it's so cute, it's almost unfair. But, of course, my ultimate favorite is Garret. I can't handle it when he furrows his eyebrows, whether he's pissed off or has that smug look like he's just hit the jackpot. It's all just so perfect!

Anyway, I do have a question for you—do you have any tips for creating character designs? I feel like the way your characters look perfectly matches the vibe they give off, and I'm starting to work on my own visual novel, but I'm having a hard time nailing down the character designs and I felt I could find good advice from you.

Additionally, I apologize in advance for all the fangirling and for my poor English. I hope nothing I said came across as rude or inconvenient, truly 🙏.

Thanks so much, and I hope you have a fantastic day! ❤🌻

Thank you so much for your incredibly sweet ask! Please, please, please NEVER apologize for gushing about characters for fangirling over them! It always brings a massive smile to my face and I really appreciate hearing how much you enjoy them! <3 I'm incredibly flattered that you reached out to me for advice on character creation and I'll do my best to share my process with you! Granted there are a million different ways to do things so these are just a few things that I've found that helps me in the creation process.

I'll give you a little background about me and my character/story creation journey so you can get a better understanding of my background in writing/character development.

You see I've been a huge fan of text roleplay for the majority of my life. I actually started roleplaying on gaiaonline when I was 12 and I've been doing it ever since. ( Almost 20 years at this point! damn am I old lol) As a result I've had a lot of practice creating and interacting with different kinds of characters in different settings. I've also been playing DnD on and off since high school. That being said, I've had time to refine my craft and create characters that I personally really enjoy and align with to some degree. ( And hopefully you do too!)

That being said, I'll list a few tips and tricks I've picked up over the years below!

Anatomy is key! Yes, my characters are stylized, however I spent a long time studying anatomy and getting a solid sense of proportions, ratios, and musculature. Am I perfect? Absolutely not, but I'm at the point that I can usually notice if there's a glaring error/ something looks really off.

Make sure to put all of the characters in a line up once they're designed! Are their heads the same size? What about their hands and feet? Some slight variations are natural, but if one character's head is noticeably larger than the others, then I'd take the time to adjust. The same could be said for colors. Is one character SUPER saturated while the others are more muted? Unless they're supposed to stand out, consider reworking the colors to make them feel a bit more cohesive.

A basic understanding of color theory is always a bonus in my book! I'd also consider making a general color palette for your game. That way it'll help you make sure everything looks and feels as though it's in the same world.

When I first create a character, I try to think of a general concept of what I want them to be. What's their general vibe? What do they look like? What's their personality like? Ect. Once I have a general vibe down, I try and do a bit of visual research on tiktok, pinterest, tumblr, google, ect. For example, I might have a general idea of what a typical frat bro or sorority girl looks like, but until I actually do the research and look into the kinds of things they wear, how they speak, and their general lifestyle, and real life examples of these kinds of people they'll feel like a flat caricatures of what they actually are.

Then, once I have the general vibe nailed down I start doodling them and playing around with different hairstyles, outfits, body types, ect. I actually have a few different different versions of all of the characters for Crimson Hydrangea! I rarely end up going with my first sketch/ concept when it comes to most of my characters. I also like exploring with different skin tones, colors, and textures/designs.

It takes a lot of thought and trail and error, but once I finally create a character that I'm visually happy with, I really start delving into their personality, backstories, and general psyche. What are their likes, dislikes, positive traits, and flaws? What are their motivations, fears, and traumas? How self aware are they? Then I start asking myself slightly more introspective questions to help me relate to the characters a bit more. What about this character resonates with me? How can I make this character feel more real? What are some traits that we share? For example, Garret inherited my unhealthy perfectionism, Marcelo inherited my love of food and desire to make sure those around me are happy and comfortable, Camilla inherited my sarcastic sense of humor, Rita inherited my unyielding sense of responsibility and unhealthy work-a-holic tendencies, and Teagan inherited my deep rooted insecurities. Granted most of these characters take it to a completely new level than I do in my real life, but at least on a basic level I can relate to them and understand their motivations. That being said, I don't think all of your characters need to inherit a specific trait of yours, it's just something I recently realized I tend to do on a subconscious level to help me write them with a bit more depth.

Let your characters develop a life of their own within your story. It's okay if they end up changing from your initial concept. People in real life are complex and don't always fit into a specific mold no matter how hard they try. They grow and change over time, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. Do what feels right for the story you're trying to tell. For example, Garret was originally supposed to be more calculated and methodical. Marcelo was originally supposed to be a lot more laid back and go with the flow. However when I actually started writing them in specific scenarios I realized that they're far more complex than a simplified list of traits. Flaws and weaknesses make them feel so much more real than a "perfect" gary/mary stu.

When it comes to facial expressions, I usually have a small mirror on my desk to observe and reference specific expressions I'm trying to convey. In addition to using the mirror as a reference point, I also tend to make whatever face I'm drawing as I'm drawing it. It's a little silly, but I find it really helpful feeling my facial muscles recreate the same expression. It helps me figure out what the brows, eyes, and mouth are doing at the same time. It's gotten to the point of doing it subconsciously whenever I work/animate/draw. (Fortunately I usually work from home so no one has to see my weird expressions lol)

I think the final and most important tip you should take to heart is to create characters you genuinely enjoy. It'll also help you stay motivated to keep writing them and developing the story, especially early on in the creation process.

Hopefully you found my rambling helpful! It ended up being a bit more of a brain dump than I originally intended haha. That being said, I'd love to see what kind of characters and game you end up creating in the future! <3

[shinysmolivgarden]

I'd like to preface this post by saying

I think the toxic chain theory was interesting, and no hate to the people who believed it, but...

I find it kind of funny that SO many people believed it.

MY FIRST POINT:

That would have been a very big plot point. And that would be kind of weird considering the Indigo Disk was obviously about Terapagos and not "Dokutaro", as it was named at the time. A thing I've seen is that people thought taking the championship title from Kieran is what would "reveal" that he had been possessed or whatever, but like... Kieran was the most important non-player character in the DLC. You'd think that if he had actually been possessed by Dokutaro, that would be the main focus of the Indigo Disk. But it clearly wasn't. Pecharunt (up until the epilogue) was only found in the files and hidden when Kieran's grandpa tells us Ogerpon's story, which is something that'd be weird to do for a legendary so important to the DLC's story. Even with Ogerpon, despite the fact that it was a reveal that it wasn't evil and a reveal to the characters in the story that it actually existed, we knew it existed because it was announced BEFORE the Teal Mask came out. And, I was right about that! Pecharunt was announced BEFORE the epilogue was released! (Again, no hate to people who thought this, I just think it's a bit weird.)

MY SECOND POINT:

A big piece of "evidence" for the theory was that the trailers for the indigo disk showed that he "dyed" his hair purple. (And that's the same color as Dokutaro! :0) Like... that was always his hair color. The underside of his hair was always purple. He just tied his hair up. You can still see his black hair from behind. I guess it made sense if you already believed the theory, but if you didn't (like me) it is easily explainable.

MY THIRD POINT:

Another theory I've seen going around (especially on tumblr) is that Kieran was not outright possessed by Pecharunt but was still influenced by it as part of his descent into... I don't want to say madness but basically madness. (This would also explain why Ogerpon did not go with Kieran during the Teal Mask. I've already created a post on MY opinions on that, but you can read that later.) A reason for this I've seen is that "there must still be some poison under the Loyal Three's grave even though their bodies have decayed" (yes I still call them the Loyal Three and not the Lousy Three, cry about it /j). Which... what? How would that poison get up to Kieran after he punched the grave? Poison is weak to ground for a reason. And as to why he wasn't fully possessed is because Pecharunt's dex entry says that its mochi draws out desires and capabilities, and Kieran of course didn't have any mochi so he wasn't outright possessed- stop. Listen to what you just said. Pecharunt's mochi draws out desires and capabilities, and Kieran didn't have any mochi. Are you beginning to see the problem? tbh toxic chain believer copium /j (I'd like to say again, I. HAVE. NOTHING. AGAINST. THESE. PEOPLE. I just think the THEORY is a bit wack. Please don't hate me.) (I will add the people who made the posts I'm referencing once I find them again.)

References:

@jadeazora for one of the posts.

https://www.tumblr.com/2oul2ilver/753739784490532864/yes-i-was-just-thinking-about-writing-a-post-on?source=share for the other.

BONUS POINT:

One of the people I saw supporting the theory before the Indigo Disk came out (It was a yt video but I can't find it again so I'll link it if i find it) said that Kieran might be possessed because "he looks crazy". That's it. That was their evidence.

IN CONCLUSION,

The toxic chain theory is a theory that I believe to be fine in concept, and I think it is an interesting idea. But, as with any theory, it had its faults and I personally didn't believe it because a majority of its evidence I believed (and still believe) to be just a tad bit wack.

Thank you for reading!

[kaybeearts]

"The Ego and the Idiots" + Promo Art!

Check out the comic's page on LINE and give it a follow!

God, this illustration took me forever to finish, mainly because I just HAD to go for an unconventional, yet aesthetically pleasing, color scheme. (And those who know me, know that I SUCK at color theory)

Anyways, this isn't a new series. I know that I started a series last year called, "Life in Rethell" (now branded "Life in Retail") but that kind of fell off. I just started getting inspired to make a bunch of other comics that really didn't have anything to do with each other; they were just based on sudden strikes of inspiration or memories. I had a lot more fun drawing them, too.

I didn't plan on ever grouping those miscellaneous comics together under one name, but I thought I should, just to make things more organized. Problem was; I didn't know what title name to use. "The Ego and the Idiots" was actually a planned title for another series. That one was going to be about exploring, essentially, "what the hell was wrong with me."

I don't know if that comic idea will come to light. I just have so many other things I'd rather work on at the moment. That's why I don't mind calling my collection of random comics "The Ego and the Idiots."

It has a nice ring to it, and I think it's hilarious. I don't know if you interpreted it the same way, but I like that the title implies that I can be egotistical or an idiot, depending on the story being shared. Or, maybe, you took it to mean that while I am calling other people "idiots," I'm not beneath roasting myself, referring to myself as "the ego."

To clarify: I am not starting a brand new series. I've just given a title name to all of the random/disconnected comics I've made so far. I'm not sure if LINE has a parameter in place to prevent "spam" posting, so I will be periodically adding all of my older comics to that page.

I'm still going to be uploading my comics to Reddit and all of my other socials. Lately, I've been trying to expand my art's and comics' reach, so I felt like I should take advantage of my LINE account more.

And I do want to get back to actually finishing the "Life in Retail" comics. I think this long detour was good for me, though, as I've learned so much more about drawing/making comics since the first "Life in Retail" episode.

TY for all the support thus far!

Linktree | Patreon | Discord

[infinitestarsdev]

Devlog 2025-01-03 (What we've been cooking… Contains slightly nsfw images.)

2025 is going to be absolutely amazing!

You might have noticed that our pinups have been sporadic at best, which really sucks for everyone, and it's something that we're fixing. Hirodan, who has been drawing the last few pinups, is an amazing artist, but he, unfortunately (for us), got a full-time job which demands all of his time. (yay for Hirodan for getting the job!)

We've employed a new permanent artist who started on the 1st of January to help us create more characters for IF THEN ELSE, and one of their monthly assignments is to draw the pinups. (Franco has graciously allowed us to share some teasers of what you can expect from him going forward!) Besides Pinups and Character Asset packs, Franco will also be helping with some of our side projects, the first of many being a short game set in the Infinite Stars universe for the Sealed with a Kiss jam running this month. (We're excited for this one!)

(Some examples of what you can expect from our 2025 pinups!)

If that wasn't exciting enough, we are currently in the final stages of bringing an additional permanent (meaning not-a-freelancer) writer on board to focus on some of the side projects we have planned for 2025 and beyond.

I should probably stop while I'm ahead and stay quiet, but call it New Year excitement babbling: We are looking into expanding the team to include a permanent Python developer to help code all the cool ideas we have for Infinite Stars and the other planned side projects. This isn't official yet, and affordability will be the biggest deciding factor.

With the additional help, we aim to do four modest to large public Infinite Stars releases this year, so one release per quarter giving you more Infinite Stars goodness with less waiting in between. The season 1 wrap-up is on the horison. We still have a few more surprises in store, but I'm going to be lying if I said my mind doesn't wander off to plan and imagine content for season 2.

All of this costs money, quite a bit more than what we are pulling in from our amazing patrons right now. Luckily, I've built up a bit of savings from my day job, which I intend to push back into Infinite Stars as a calculated risk until it becomes self-sustaining again.

::Nervous chest breathing::

That being said, I'll need your help to get there. I'm willing to put my own money where my mouth is, and I hope the results will earn your enthusiasm and support. Patreon has been nagging me to update our Patron tiers, so if you have any ideas as to what would earn your buy-in on our journey, please be so kind to share them with me, no matter how silly or unrealistic they might seem to you. I've always loved doing the impossible, and maybe, together, we can get it done.

On to the actual reason you are here: News about the new Infinite Stars content. It's still cooking, unfortunately. The last internal word count on content not yet available in the public build was around 4x the length of Episode 1, with a bit more to go.

This will also be the first time you'll encounter a "wrong" decision that leads to a premature ending of the story. (It's clearly labelled, so there is no need to stress about it!)

It'll also introduce several new characters, most of them alien.

(A sharp-eyed theory crafter might notice one of these isn't like the others.)

It has quite a few new MC portraits that haven't been released yet.

As I've alluded to before in the past, it has some anxiety-inducing content that will probably top that scene near the end of Episode 3. I've also hinted at some twists and a few new things we're trying out... Honestly, I can't wait to share it with all of you, and I wish it was already ready.

Have a fantastic weekend. Be kind, be safe and remember to see the beauty in the small things that you might miss otherwise. <3

[rubitheracoon]

HEY PEOPLE IVE GOT A SILLY PROJECT THAT I WANT TO SHARE

I hope that got your attention :]

Anyway, Hi! My name is Rubi (not really) and I'm a young budding artist of many different flavours (some more developed than others).

I wanted to share a passion project of mine that I've been casually working on for the last year today (21st March 2024).

I've been trying really hard to get it out to more people, advertising it wherever I was allowed to do so. It still hasn't gained many follows. so since I have a larger following on tumblr, I thought this would be my next best option.

This project is a Spotify playlist by the name of "I'm all alone", which is inspired off of liminal spaces and how they make me feel.

From the moment I created the playlist I knew I wanted it to be a 'choose your own story' type deal, where the listener can infer from the songs listed to any capacity (specific or basic) and the playlist is just a base idea. I want to see other people draw their own creativity from my playlist. There is no right or wrong story.

Though, this playlist is far from finished. As of writing this, the furthest I've gotten to it being fully organised in a way I feel sounds right is down to the song "over population at the end of everything..." (I'm not writing the full title). If I continue treating it casually like I Currently am, it will be a long time from being a fully fledged playlist. But there's still information you can take from the unorganised songs!

This is the link to the playlist

PLEASE BE SURE TO READ THE TITLE ALONG WITH THE DESCRIPTION

ALSO DO NOT PUT IT ON SHUFFLE

I'd also like to add that for the people who want to get to the nitty gritty, I have accommodated titles, album covers and a certain song repeating to act as chapters, keep a look out! (All of these were entirely unintentional but very useful)

Please @ me when you talk about any theories, I want to hear all of it!

Lots of love,

- Rubi 🧡

The amount of likes I have as of when I'm writing this is 3. 2 of them are my other accounts

turns out my other 2 accounts didn't have this playlist liked after all this time so all 3 likes count. I'm now up to 7 as of 23rd May 2024 including those 2 accounts

Please reblog with all tags, and if I missed any, be sure to add them :)

[mirra-kan]

Hi Mirra!

Have you written any headcanon, metas, discussions, or fics about your concept of the "Faithful Haradrim"? If so, could you please tell me where to find them? If you haven't yet, would you mind sharing some info of your headcanons (anything at all) about their history and culture?

I'm a big fan of your Harad artwork and concepts (including the Blue Wizards), and it's all clearly founded on a rich, complex world you've created for them in your head. I would definitely love to learn more! :) I do also plan on including more about the Haradrim culture and history in my upcoming fanfics, so I would love to hear an expert's ideas on them.

Thank you for sharing your work with us!

@sotwk Was very happy to discover your message in my ask box!

Thank you for your interest and willingness to include more Haradrim content into your writing, but I'm afraid you might find my views rather... boring 😆

I also must apologise in advance if any of my phrases may not seem polite enough or turn out to be grammatically incorrect - English is not my first language.

Disclaimer! What is written below represents my personal view! It is in no way intended to hurt or discredit anyone’s head canons, views and ideas!

My Chinese calligraphy teacher once told me: "Do you want to assume or to learn? Decide on the approach before you make theories about anything."

And I follow the strategy of "to learn" before I "assume". So, first and foremost, I'm still in search of bits of information about the peoples who inhabited Harad and Rhun (South and East) of Middle-earth.

My goal is not so much to create head cannons as to draw the audience's attention to the canon and the Professor's own vision. Accordingly, in working through his letters, essays, and volumes of the History of Middle-earth, I am trying to draw parallels that someone as educated as Professor Tolkien might have drawn.

I also categorically disagree with the images created in the movies, where the conventional evil is more caricatured than frightening, and the motives and history of the conflict are not shown at all (Faramir’s saying about Haradrim’s fate is at least included, which is great, even if it wasn’t his in books). When my best friend dragged me into the Silmarillion story couple of years ago, I was amazed at how distorted the perception of these regions was in adaptations.

So, thinking about the existence and struggles of Faithful Haradrim, I rely on the history of the region and possible historical patterns. Such a vast region simply cannot have a common culture. It is the idea that can unite them. But, as in our reality, cultural features, symbolism and colours may differ. For example, we know that those who came with Sauron's army, performed under red flags with snakes. Does that mean that the entire vast region walked exclusively in the same colours? It seems unlikely to me.

As for the Blue Wizards, blue in general is a colour very 'inherent' to many cultures in the Global South. I suppose that's why the Professor dressed Alatar and Pallando in those colours. And accordingly, in my opinion, Faithful Haradrim could use these colours in their robes and on their banners, but not necessarily. It is not the colour that reflects the inner essence of a person.

Of course, when thinking about this or that image, I think about where exactly these people live, what the level of metallurgy development is present in different Ages, whether there is a sea or mountains nearby - all this affects how their armour\architecture\symbolism could have developed. In general, I draw parallels with real anthropology and the history of the development of civilisations. Books about the regional patterns, military and weapon history etc are of big help here too.

Sometimes, of course, I make things up. For example, when I first read the lines about the Blue Wizards not returning to Valinor, I didn't take it in a negative light. After all, they could have stayed in Middle-earth willingly, having become attached and imbued with the problems of the region, of the people. After all, Alatar and Curumo were the only ones who were not afraid to volunteer to fight Sauron.

I also like the later version, in which the Blue Wizards arrive in the Second Age. It makes more "sense" given the nightmare that the Númenorians had wrought in the region. But even among them, I'm sure there were some people who sympathised and helped the local population. I don't believe in black and white in principle. But I do believe in post-truth.

So, in essence, I'm a boring canonist who treats the author's writings and views with great respect. And the myth of the Haradrim and Easterlings being bad guys by all accounts is almost as well-established as the supposed lack of religion, holy Dunedain and cute glowing elves. Which is, in my opinion, in no way consistent with Tolkien's own philosophy and stance.

Perhaps what I came up with from scratch was a sign, a Faithful Haradrim symbol, that those could use to identify each other. People need symbols, faith and ideas. Especially in such trying times. That's the way we are.

Oh, I'm afraid if I go on, it'll be a whole essay. So I think I'll stop here. Thanks again for your question and your interest! I'm sorry if I disappointed you, haha.  Good luck with your writing - I'm so happy there're people out there, who're genuinely interested in the region! ❤

P.S. If everything goes well, I plan to release a zine about Harad at the end of the year. With quotes and the obligatory notes of personal theories not to confuse the reader.

[choicesbookclub]

Welcome to the Choices Book Club! We are currently reading Blades of Light & Shadow III. The book releases a new chapter every Wednesday on the Choices App.

This Week’s Chapter: Chapter 10— Into the Deep

Question(s) of the Week: (Spoilers included)

Did you acquire Skywaren's Spellshot? [Vote Here]

Did you learn the elite evasion skill with Mal? [Vote Here]

What did MC think about the elves? [Vote Here]

When MC gets the god-killing weapon what will they do? [Vote Here]

Did you go on the Dungeon Delving side quest? Who did you steal a moment with? [Vote Here]

What did you ask/say to [redacted]? [Vote Here]

Did you see that "trap" at the end coming? [Vote Here]

How would you rate chapter 10 of Blades III? [Vote Here]

Did you level up? If so, what skill did you choose? [Vote Here]

If you have a question, poll, or prompt idea you'd like to see added, please let me know. I'm happy to add whatever you'd like to see!

Get to Know Our Blades MC (past questions)

#1 [Info Post] What has your MC been doing since book two? How does your MC feel about religion? How does your MC feel about death and the afterlife?

#2 [Info Post] What does your MC admire in others? What’s one thing they always carry with them, and why? Is there someone in the afterlife that your MC is hoping to see

#3: [Info Post] If your MC had to write a letter to only one member of the group (LI or not) telling them something they've never said about them, who do you think they'd choose to write a letter to and what would they say?

#4 [Info Post] Share a story (or two) about your MC's childhood.

#5 [Info Post] What are some holidays that your MC celebrates? What do they like about them? Do they have any special traditions?

How else to Participate:

Please note that the mod is working full time and has real life responsibilities, so reblogs may be delayed

Post reactions, screenshots, videos, ramblings, theories,… whatever comes to you while playing

Create drawings, edits, moodboards, fics, headcanons, songs, poems, etc based on the chapters and/or characters

Create a profile page for your MC and submit it to our MC directory or use the Book 3 template

Catch up on any of the previous week's questions/prompts

Posts that tag @choicesbookclub and use “#choices book club” will be reblogged here. Please note that tags “#choices book club” seem to be more reliable than mentioning the blog.

If your post is not reblogged within 48 hours, please dm me a link @lovealexhunt. Thank you!

[Please read the full guide to the event and how to participate here]

[amazingdeadfish]

It's only been a few days and I feel like a boiling pot, I have a lot of ideas, a lot of theories, so I have to ask: in your drawings of Ling's little Baihe she looks like that girl LBD dressed up as when she was arguing/Talking to the emperor, please tell me she didn't disguise herself as Ling's Baihe in front of them.

Sometimes (which is... A lot of the time), I think people who read Blue and Violet are smarter than I am.

Because I genuinely have to admit, I had to re-watch that flashback scene in LMK canon to realise the point you were making.

The truth is that... I had no idea how similar I had ended up making Ivory Lady's child form to little Baihe (there are differences, yes, because the only reference I had for Baihe was Xiuying's own child design I created a while ago. Baihe was simply designed to look a lot like her).

Like... I... I did not realise. At all. But I look back on this now and, yeah, you are right! Little Baihe really does look like Ivory Lady on that scene!

But it was not my intention for Ivory Lady to have purposefully taken up little Baihe's face in that scene. But y'know what?

Y'know what mate?

I like it. I really like your theory. I like it so much that yeah, alright, your theory is right. That's what LBD wanted to do. She transformed into Baihe in that scene. Why? I don't know. Maybe it was just the first child's face that popped into her mind? That would make sense, because I'll tell all of you right now that little Baihe and the Ivory Lady would have had many other encounters (along with Ling), but it was all behind the scenes and not featured in the Blue and Violet story itself (because there is only so much I am capable of writing, haha). Of course out of all children the Ivory Lady would think of, it would be Baihe.

But I don't think the Ivory Lady would have done this to 'specifically' fuck with Ling. No, no, no, she is not that cruel.

I do not think she likes to torture or harm people. In fact, isn't the pain that people experience one of the very things she wants to stop when trying to end the world? But she does see a necessity in it in order to pursue destiny, which, kind of makes her a hypocrite.

Anyways, I have rambled enough. Thanks for sharing your thoughts :)))