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Fixed it up a bit and added some more linear and stuff. Any thoughts??

A sketch of a little meme I'm working on, of my Amell warden and Alistair in my ideal post-game because I haven't finished Origins yet

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A sketch of a little meme I'm working on, of my Amell warden and Alistair in my ideal post-game because I haven't finished Origins yet

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mE??? in lo ve wtih…vidEO GAE M CH ARCTR???? h aha no……taht woudl be ST UPID……video ga em cahrcter…..just plygons……..

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woah check out the secret character you can find on the bluey website if you click the character tab 3 times and draw a heart with your mouse

but for real, i was suddenly inspired to do this! character summary with a quote from an unfinished cinna chapter oops and how she'd pop up on the related character tab! even made new key art for her :3 it's by itself under the cut!

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hiii this started as a redraw but i ended up liking it better cropped aha

ok 2 rb // s/i uses they / she pronouns :)

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hi im on bluesky now. im @/ItsKittyBones

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I'm gonna need fellow self shippers to NOT apologize or put themselves down for making their s/is basic/mary sue/OP as fuck because we're here to have FUN!! If you wanna give ur s/i a taste of the power or to make them the hottest person in your f/os canon then DO it! Make characters u don't ship with have a crush on you, make yourself the sole savior of this universe and be unapologetic about it!! [OK TO RB]

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Title: They Say A Man Should Never Cry

Ship: Mike x Dude

Words: 600

Warnings: Just period typical gender role talk.

Description: Dude worries Mike does too much for him.

Dude watched his spouse Mike as they sewed up one of the holes he’d worn into one of his shirts. They had done so much for him for the past few years. Sometimes he wondered whether he offered them anything at all. Sometimes, he felt like such a burden with all they wanted to do for him. Really, he was a man capable of doing these things himself, as he regularly told them. Still, they insisted on patching his shirt and making all of his meals. If they were in a particular mood, they’d insist on washing his hair and shaving him. He worried sometimes, in the back of his mind, that he would wear them down. They had endured the brunt of his alcoholism four years ago. Somehow, they still wanted him, and still wanted to take care of him. 

“I can patch up my own shirt,” Dude said. 

Mike shook their head. “I’d do it better.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

Mike cut him off. “I want to.” 

Dude rubbed his face. “Honey, I don’t- Look, I appreciate it. I just don’t want you to think I’m helpless-” 

Mike scoffed. “Helpless! I don’t think you’re helpless.” 

He sighed. “I don’t want you wearin’ yourself out, is all.” 

Mike lowered the needle, thread, and his shirt. “Wearing myself out?” 

“I don’t want…I’m a man. I can take care of myself.” 

They frowned. “I know. If you don’t want me to help you, just say so. I can stop.” 

Dude’s heart sank. “I didn’t mean- oh, damn it! I don’t want you to think you have to take care of me. I don’t want to burden you. I’ve been a big burden, to everybody, all these years.” 

Mike shook their head and looked at him almost sternly. “You’re not a burden. I love you. I loved you then and I love you now. You’re a man. I know that. I know what you’re capable of. You’re brave, and you’re strong. You don’t need me to cook for you or patch your shirts. But you know what else you are? A man who has been through a lot. You’re not alone anymore. You’re not some lonesome deputy sheriff who needs to be tough all the time. You’re not Chance. Don’t push me away.” 

Dude frowned. “Mike…I’m not…I’m not pushin’ you anywhere. I just don’t…want to be too much for you. I wasn’t raised to be…loved like this. You know…I always thought I’d have a wife, some kids. She’d cook, like a woman does. She’d keep the house clean. She’d rear the kids. I’d work our land ‘til the boys got old enough. But I’d be a man. I’d do my own shaving. I’d take my own baths, alone. I’d do the cuddlin’, and the kissin’. I’d always be…dominant in my own bedroom. Nobody’d ever see me lonely or scared. I’d be the man of my house.” 

Mike bit their lip. “Do you want me to be more…wifely?”

“That’s just it, honey. I need you to take care of me. I need you to take the lead. I need you to kiss my forehead and dry my tears. I need everything you do for me. I need you to love me. I don’t want to need all that but I do.” 

“Why don’t you?” 

He looked down. He didn’t want to come off more vulnerable than he already was. “I’m afraid you’ll leave me for a stronger man sometimes.” 

Mike placed a hand on Dude’s face. “Stronger man? Dude, sweetheart, you are the strongest man I know. You don’t have to be some hardass to be a man. You’re a good man, Dude. You’re a force to be reckoned with, you know that? I wouldn’t leave you for any man in the whole United States of America.” 

“You think too much of me.” 

Mike kissed him. “I’m right. Now, I have a shirt to finish.” 

Mike returned to sewing up Dude’s shirt. He looked at them with gentle eyes, wondering how he ever got so lucky. 

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Title: Where the Blue and Lonely Go

Ship: Mike x Dude (2 1/2 years pre-canon)

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Alcoholism, toxic dynamic (coupled with a little age difference. don't worry about it), emetophobia, hurt/comfort

Note: This would be my s/i before they came out. Dude understands them to be a woman. I just use their (i.e. my) current name and pronouns for reasons of my comfort and everyone else's (kinda like when a Wikipedia page gets edited after a person comes out).

Description:

Soon I'll be there with a glass of wine, where the blue and lonely go.

Dude returns to town after running away with the girl from the stage.

That girl from the stagecoach, whose name no one ever bothered to remember, was bad news. Everyone could see, except poor Dude. He dropped everything he had in their little town to run away with her. Six months later, he returned. She was nowhere in sight. His friends were simultaneously overjoyed and saddened to see him. They had missed their friend very much, but he was clearly worse for wear. His warm brown eyes had lost their warmth and become distant, empty. He didn’t look like he came back to town on purpose, but rather like a stray who only knew one safe place to stay. He had no home here, not anymore. 

The stagecoach that brought him back ran at night. He found himself in the threshold of the Hotel Alamo, half in the dark and half in the light. Carlos watched him, unsure what to say. Dude didn't say anything, just stood in the doorway, as if he needed to be invited in. 

Carlos broke the silence. “You come in, Dude. Sit down and I’ll see about a room.” 

“I don’t have a lot of money,” he replied. He had spent a lot of it on booze, the hotel where he and his girl had stayed, and the stagecoach home. His time at his new job wasn’t enough to save anything. He was almost penniless. 

Carlos waved that idea off. “You were the deputy. A good man. You can stay for free.” 

He was. He was a good man. He was the deputy. He was going to be a married man. What was he now? 

“Thank you,” Dude said quietly. 

Carlos walked away to where they kept the keys. Dude looked around the hotel, remembering all the things he had done here in times past. He looked at the bar. Where were they? The bar looked so empty without his best friend to tend it. Mike would smile at him and offer him whisky after a long day’s work. They would ask him about his day and listen attentively. He should have listened to them about the stage girl. He knew that now. 

When Carlos returned, Dude asked after Mike.  “Where’s Mike, Carlos?”

“Asleep, I think. They have been very tired. I have been tending the bar at closing.” 

He frowned. He didn’t want to wake them but he desperately wanted — no, needed, to see them. 

Carlos handed him the key to his room, and Dude made his way up the stairs. There was an ache in his back from the long stage trip. He didn’t bother finding his room. His feet took him to Mike’s, by muscle memory. He took a deep breath and knocked. Mike was a light sleeper, so it only took a knock more to stir them. 

They opened the door, only in their nightgown. Once they registered Dude, they shut the door partially and blushed. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think to put a robe on,” they said. 

“That’s alright,” he said. He wasn’t in the mood to care about Mike’s state of dress. He pushed through the door, not asking to come in. 

Mike stood dumb, watching Dude slip through the door frame. He took them in his arms and sobbed. Their heart fell to the floor. Quickly, they returned his embrace, and walked them backwards to their bed. They maneuvered so that he was sitting in their lap. He continued to sob. His tears were beginning to drop onto Mike’s neck. They petted his hair, tangling their fingers into his soft curls. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mike asked him. He said nothing, only cried. Mike tried to rock him to the best of their ability. 

“Why did she leave me?” Dude eventually asked, sobbing into Mike’s shoulder. Everything he said came out in a pathetic mess of blubbering. He meant the stage girl. The same woman they and Chance had told him was bad news. It was the wrong time for an ‘I told you so.’ 

“Because she was a goddamn fool,” Mike said with conviction.  

“I thought we’d get married. I’m almost 40 goddamn years old and I-” 

Dude broke down into more sobbing, drowning out the rest of his sentence. 

“Hey, shh, hey. Remember who you’re talking to, huh? I never even kissed anybody. I’m about to be 22.” 

“You got time. I’m runnin’ out.” 

Mike frowned, but continued playing with his curls. “Dude, you are a very handsome man. You’re a damn good man too. I mean that. If every woman in Texas is too foolish to see that, it’s not your fault.” 

“I don’t want to be alone.” 

Mike knew that feeling too personally. It was too real for them. 

“You’re not alone,” Mike assured him. “You have me, and Chance. And you remember old Stumpy?” 

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “Let me stay. Please. Don’t leave me.” 

It shattered their heart to hear him so desperate. They had never seen him so weak and vulnerable in all the time they knew him. 

“You can stay,” they said gently. “I’ll take the floor and you-” 

Dude shook his head. “I don’t want to put you out of your own bed.” 

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor after that awful night you must have had on the stage.” 

They moved to get up but Dude grabbed their wrist. “Hold me?” 

Mike knew it was improper. They weren’t married. They weren’t even romantic, only friends. They couldn’t just have any man in their bed. Yet, they couldn’t say no to those big, brown eyes, or the way he clinged to them like a lifeline. 

They wrapped themselves and Dude under their blankets and pulled him close. Dude nuzzled into the neck and breathed in their scent. Mike smelled sweet and citrusy that night. He almost wondered if they’d had a bath recently. It wasn’t any of his business. Mike was soft and warm, just what Dude needed. 

“You smell nice,” he told them as his eyelids grew heavy. Mike’s heart skipped a beat. He clearly wasn’t thinking right. He was sad, lonely, and tired. He’d never be in their bed after this. 

They were wrong. 

Dude came back the next night, only he wasn’t the least bit sober. He stumbled into their bedroom, and started taking off his shirt without any thought of propriety. 

Mike swatted his hands. “Hey! This is a small town! I don’t want people thinking-” 

“That we’re fucking?” he laughed. “Would that be so bad?” 

Mike’s mind split in two. They were shocked by the vulgarity of what Dude had just said, for sure. On top of that, they wanted to know whether he meant the gossip or the actual act itself. 

As he started singing nonsense to himself, they knew this was the wrong time to ask. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d never say anything like that sober. 

“Alright, come on you big ‘ol drunk,” Mike said. “To bed with you. Watch your language and don’t vomit on my sheets.” 

“If you wanna be my momma so bad-” 

Mike whacked him with a pillow. Dude giggled and looked up at them with a big smile. If he didn’t smell so much like whisky, Mike would say he was adorable. 

He was a lot less adorable when he started retching into a bucket they’d grabbed for him. They rubbed his back and held him as he threw up every bit of food they’d offered him. They were so worried he’d lose weight. They’d try to feed him more tomorrow. 

Now, all they did was make sure he hadn’t gotten anything on himself and made sure he got to sleep safely. Eventually, they got a couple hours of sleep. 

Dude quickly ran out of his own money. Mike knew he would. They hoped it would stop him. 

They were wrong. 

He convinced them to go to one of the bars in town. Mike had no idea how he’d managed it, only that they were standing at the bar, in front of a bartender cleaning a glass. 

Dude turned to them. “You’ll buy some for me, won’t ya?” he asked them. He was looking at them with his big, wet, brown eyes. He was a master at a puppy dog face. Damn it, they didn’t want to enable him. They didn’t want him vomiting into a bucket again. They wanted him sober and happy. They wanted him safe. “Please? It’ll help.” 

Mike shook their head. “You gotta figure this out. You have to get better-” 

Softly, pleadingly, he said, “Help me take the pain away.” 

That broke them. They bought him glasses of whisky until they had to ask the bartender to help carry him out. 

Mike felt horrible as they laid him down on their bed. 

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to be your friend! If I could be a hardass like Chance…If I didn’t…” 

They bit back the words. If I didn’t love you so much. Dude was the most dear thing Mike had ever had. They hadn’t had very many friends in their life but they knew Dude was special. They needed to get him sober. They wouldn’t let him drink himself to death. 

They were wrong again. Any time Dude begged them for alcohol, they bought it. Silver dollars one by one fell from Mike’s hand onto the counter of every bar in town. Mike watched themselves squander their money. They watched themselves drag their drunk friend home. They watched themselves stay up all night caring for him. 

Carlos had banned Dude from drinking at the Hotel Alamo, but Dude could still convince Mike to sneak a drink or two. They left silver dollars under the bar every time they did. 

Carlos did not like what he had to do. 

He found Mike at the bar one afternoon, run down and barely able to stand. It pained him to see such a hard working employee this way. If he were being honest, Mike was also a friend. He did not like seeing his friends this way either. 

“Mike,” he said as sternly as he could. “We must talk.” 

Mike stepped out from behind the bar. “Yes, Señor Robante?” 

“You cannot go on like this. You have to make Dude leave. Or-” He sighed. “I will have to fire you. He is taking too much of our stock. Too much of your money.” 

Mike’s heart sank. They couldn’t put Dude on the street. They wouldn’t. They didn’t care if they had to give up a little money, a little alcohol. 

“Please, not as my boss, but as my friend, let me keep him here,” Mike said. “I pay for my room, I do my job. I pay for him. Don’t make me turn him out. I- He’s my best friend. He’s all I have.” 

Carlos looked at Mike with pity. “You will not like the end of this, señorita.” 

Somewhere in their brain they knew he was right. In their heart, they did not care. 

They held Dude in their arms for another night and knew they could not leave him. 

Day by day, Dude looked worse and Mike only grew more tired. He got drunk, they got broke. So, the cycle went. They could not leave him. 

They needed to see Chance. 

They knocked on the jail door. It swung open and Chance frowned at them. 

“Mike, you look-” 

“I know.” 

Mike looked at Chance for a long time. The crease at the center of his forehead defeated any attempt at concealing his worry. 

“Chance, I need you to help convince me to kick Dude out.” 

“He’s eating all your food, drinking all the liquor in town, and wasting all your money. That’s reason enough. What do you need my help for?” 

“I can’t do it. I’m too soft. Maybe it’s because I’m not a man, but damn it, I can’t hurt him. Chance, I love him. I need him.”  

Chance’s face had the same pity that Carlos’ did. “You have to let him go. He’s a grown man, he’s either going to sink or swim on his own. You have to let him. You put his fate in your hands, and you’ll blame yourself. Don’t. It’s his fault, let him live with it. You shouldn’t have to.” 

Mike struggled not to cry in front of Chance. “I’ll try. I know you’re right.” 

They found Dude putting his clothes back on from a midday nap when they got into the room. 

“Dude?” Mike said softly. 

“Yeah?” he replied, barely above a whisper. His eyes looked weary.

“You have to go.” 

Dude’s face fell, and his shoulders along with it. “Go?” 

Mike took a deep breath. “You need to leave my room. You need to leave this hotel. You need to leave my life.” 

Dude blinked away tears. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”  

Mike fought the urge to pull him close. “I need you to leave, Dude.” 

“Do you want me to?” 

No. No. No. 

“Don’t ask me that,” Mike said, their voice brittle. 

“I thought we were friends. I thought you wanted to help me.” 

They did, they do. 

They swallowed. “I can’t help you.” 

Dude grabbed them and held them in a hug they didn’t return. “Don’t do this. Don’t listen to Chance, or Carlos, or anybody. Don’t put me out on the street. I need you, Mike.”

It was so hard to keep their strength when Dude held them. It was hard not to let him use them over and over. 

It was the alcohol. This wasn’t Dude. It was the addiction. 

Maybe this was Dude now. The Dude he allowed himself to become. The Dude that Mike allowed to use them. 

“Let go of me,” Mike told him sternly.  “Take your clothes. Leave. Now.” 

He took their face in his hand. “I’ll never stop missin’ you. If I die out there alone, my last thought just might be of your face.” 

He took his things and left. 

Mike cried for months. 

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go, kiss that fictional character

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ok my disco elysium s/i yay tldr he fixes stuff and has taken the role of cuno's brother because he thinks someone should. he likes the church nightclub he just prefers rock..and he's more interested in the pale than the average person i guess. never been there though but he likes hearing what harry has to say about it.

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I'm gonna star self-shipping with l/aios and m/arcille from d/unmeshi, and we're gonna be in a bi4bi4bi poly relationship, and my s/i is gonna be a beast-man werecat, like i/zutsumi

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Fun things to do with your selfship!!

for when you want to do some fun stuff with your f/o and have no idea what.

Make yourselves on the SIMS 4! The game is free on Steam, and there's a whole modding community where you can find lots of fun (and sometimes kinky) things to play around with. :3 You can just make each other and have fun watching you interact in a domestic environment! Orrr torture the shit out of them in game. /l-h

Make moodboards! This is really fun to think about and you can spend hours looking for pics online. What objects are important to you and your F/O? What colors define you? Is there a specific aesthetic that you two fit? Etc.

If moodboards are not enough, make stimboards! Yeah! Selfship stimboards! You can look for stims here on Tumblr, or on YT if you know what you're looking for, or cool niche products on Etsy and the like. If your selfship reminds you of a starry night sky, or about a creepy storm at sea, you can find and gif those things and have fun!

Make SMAUs! SMAUs are the shit these days lmfao. Either write how you and your selfship would interact on Twitter, or silly convos you'd have over text, I can assure you these are addicting and stupidly fun to make. There are plenty of sites and apps that let you create these, depending what social media you are looking for.

Make online collages! (Thanks bae for the idea) You can use something like Picsart with their huge free sticker selection, or import your own images and just throw a bunch of things together that remind you of your F/O!

Make PicMixes! Kinda like collages but with gifs lol. Just go to picmix.com and have fun creating!

Make a playlist! You can get inspo for character-inspired playsts, POVs that align with your selfship dynamic, using YT or Spotify or whatever app you use for music.

Anyone is free to add to this with their own ideas. :3 Just have fun!!

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@ / princesscandystar is a 30 year old that ships themselves with Eri from My Hero Academia while using main mha tags and selfship tags. Eri is 6 - 7 years old.

Notably, they are also known to openly ship Homer Simpson with Maggie; the baby. This includes writing nsfw content featuring the two characters on a previous account that got deactivated. Maggie is stated in one episode to be a 1 year old.

I am showing the current @ to warn others and to disclose that they changed their username yesterday. (I was under the impression that they deactivated again; my apologies) Also take into consideration that they have been deactivated 4 separate times.

🚨 Please do not harass them. Harassment does not benefit anyone. Just block them. I am simply making this to bring awareness. I repeat: please do not harass them. 🚨

Proships DNI

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not gonna explain my thought process but. in an urban fantasy/modern au of b/g3, Kitty Cohlen would be like the bi C/happell Roan of F/aerun, if that makes sense. cunty b/ard p/opstar d/rag artist. if that makes sense

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There should be an equivalent to asking "how's the wife and kids?" that's like "so how's that fictional man of yours doing?"

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not to be cheesy but nothing brightens my day more than seeing my mutuals' selfship art on the dash