#and even if I did a comic with OCs no one would care because it's not fanart and I basically have zero following

[dustofthedailylife]

Man... I really really want to make either a Visual Novel with my art, writing and OCs or create an original Comic Series.

I lack the programming skills and have zero clue about publishing games for the first one and I lack the time and still the skill for the latter...

[ponett]

Do you have any advice for people making OCs/sonas? Yours are really well rounded and unique and I'd greatly appreciate the insight of someone who got a passion project off the ground!

So this is a very broad topic, and it varies a lot based on your own creative goals, what kind of characters you're creating, and where you want to use them. Creating an OC to be used in furry pinups is a little different than creating one for a dramatic story. But I'll try to give some general advice on how I do things for the types of characters and stories I tend to work with

Heads up: this will be kinda long lol

The germ of an idea

For me, I'll generally be inspired to create a character starting with a small number of core traits. These could be anything. A color scheme, a body type, a job, a hobby, a personality archetype, an outfit, a visual motif, a functional role in a story I'm working on, a noteworthy facial feature, a weapon, a relationship of some sort to an existing character, a single scene or joke I want to use them for. For furries and fantasy characters, species is usually one of the first things I'll have an idea for, which tends to get the ball rolling fairly easily since we have all sorts of cultural associations with different animals and fantasy creatures.

Any standout character trait like this that you find compelling can serve as that initial spark. The inspiration can come from anywhere, but it's often just a matter of knowing yourself and your own tastes. What do you like? What are the people in your life like? What really speaks to you in a character? What's an existing fictional character that you'd like to rewrite and take in a different direction? What's an aspect of yourself that you would like to see represented more often in fiction? It doesn't have to be something super deep or fleshed out right from the start, though. You can start with something as simple as "I want a black cat character" or "I want a character who dresses like an arcade carpet" or "I want a character who looks scary but is actually nice." Whatever it is, it's something that differentiates the new character from the ones I already have, because otherwise I'd just be using them.

Contrast

From there, you can start brainstorming other traits that might go with those core traits. Some of those may be traits that naturally complement each other. Continuing with the black cat example, maybe you wanna play into the common cultural perception of black cats and say that this character brings bad luck, or is associated with witchcraft. However, I often like to give characters contrasting or even seemingly contradictory traits, which can help elevate a character beyond a stock archetype. Real people tend to be a walking ball of contradictions, after all.

I've talked a lot about how I did this with the main cast of SLARPG. Melody is a fox, traditionally a crafty and untrustworthy predator, but she's extremely introverted and gentle. Allison is a bunny, but instead of being a meek and cuddly little prey animal she's an outgoing fighter who loves a challenge, and she has a muscular build. I think this kind of thing gives characters some fun flavor, and can be really effective for both comedy and drama. For an example from something I didn't write, take Senshi from Dungeon Meshi. He's a dwarf, and he embodies certain stereotypical aspects of dwarves - he's a short, buff man with a big bushy beard, he lives underground, he's stubborn and doesn't like elven magic - but he also goes against some of them. Instead of being an expert on mining and blacksmithing, Senshi is a culinary expert who has a deep appreciation for the natural ecosystem of the dungeon. He's a weirdo among dwarves for not caring about the wellbeing of his axe and for using his super awesome shield primarily as a giant wok. And that's what makes Senshi fun and interesting.

So going back to our example, instead of going with the stereotype, we could make a black cat character who has comically good luck, or who's superstitious and afraid of witchcraft, or who's an extremely rational person who always believes in science over superstition. Or maybe you roll with the bad luck angle, but instead make the black cat be the victim of their own bad luck in some interesting way. Maybe this black cat has terrible luck with love and can't hold down a relationship. Maybe this black cat is an aspiring speedrunner who consistently gets the absolute worst RNG possible in every video game due to their own bad luck. Maybe this black cat has accrued a horrendous gambling debt after a long losing streak and has loan sharks coming after them.

These are all just hypothetical examples, of course. I don't exclusively make characters with ironic contradictions like this. The idea is just to build on those core traits you started with in interesting ways, and that's one of my favorite ways to do so. But honestly, a lot of the time execution is more important than the sheer originality of an idea, and sometimes really putting your all into playing a trope you love straight is the right move.

Specificity

Regardless of what direction I take a character in past that initial seed of an idea, the key ingredient tends to be specificity. To give them specific details beyond the most stock possible version of that core idea you started with.

This is something I internalized from Tim Schafer, via a blog post in the behind-the-scenes backer material for Broken Age. Sadly I'm not sure if that stuff is still available, but I did save this particular post about creating characters since it really helped me, so I'll directly quote a chunk of that post here:

No two characters would approach a problem or react to events in the same way. At least, not if you’ve designed the characters well. If you’ve left them too vague or superficial, if they are merely functional elements in your story instead of individuals, then they might react in the same way. And that’s a problem. So to avoid that, I’m going to talk about one the most important parts of character development: specificity. Making sure your character is a specific individual, not a stereotype. A unique character, different from anyone else in the world. It doesn’t mean that they have to have wacky gimmicks, eyepatches and crazy accents. It just means they have to be specific. For example, let's create a new character. Let's say your story has a scene where your main character gets in trouble in school. So you’re probably going to need a school teacher. Imagine a school teacher for a bit. Do you see her in a little red schoolhouse? Maybe a bun in her hair? An apple on her desk? Thick black glasses? Let’s put a ruler in her hand for good measure. Done! We have our teacher character. She’s ready to be in the scene where our hero goes to school and the teacher sends her to the principal’s office for passing notes. Right? I mean, this character doesn’t have too many lines, so why develop her character any more? The problem is that this teacher is a very shallow stereotype of a teacher. She has no specific attributes that make her memorable. She’s the teacher you would get in a set of free clip art. She might not have many lines, but if all your supporting characters are this way, your story will be more bland than it should be. Even if this teacher is only onscreen for a minute, she should be unique and different from any other teacher in the world. Luckily, it's not actually that hard to make her so. You just have to ask some very basic, specific questions.

Tim goes on to explain how simple exercises like filling out character sheets with basic questions about your character (there are a million of these online) can help push a character beyond a stock archetype, even if it's a minor supporting character. Questions about where they're from, their likes and dislikes, their beliefs, their goals in life, that sort of thing. For minor characters especially, a lot of these details may never actually come up in a story, but just asking even a few of these questions and giving them specific answers helps you see them less like an archetype and more like a real person in your head. Maybe you never bring up your character's backstory or their favorite sport or what kind of music they listen to, but just having a specific answer for questions like that might help color the way you depict that character in subtle ways. It makes it feel like they aren't defined by just that one core trait you started with, and helps make the characters and world feel more alive, like there's stuff going on with them beyond the bounds of the story or the drawing.

It's a careful balancing act, though. It's easy for a character to feel like they're a collection of too many unrelated gimmicks and quirks. Again, like Tim said, these specifics don't have to make for the craziest, most original character ever, there just has to be something there.

Let's go back to SLARPG as an example, where I combined broad character archetypes I liked with more specific personal elements that I felt like I wasn't seeing enough in the fiction I liked. Melody is riffing on the common idea of the reserved healer character in the RPG or MMO party and the shy girl archetype, but she's the main hero instead of a supporting player in another person's story, and she's also a fat bisexual trans woman who draws a lot of little details from my own life. Her interests, her relationships, her opinions on things, her personal hangups and dreams, these all set Melody apart from other fantasy healer characters and define her as Melody Amaranth. Specificity!

But it doesn't always have to be super deep, especially if you just want some characters to draw for fun and aren't planning on writing a story with them. Take my fursona. I've always loved dogs, so I made my fursona a dog. I chose a Samoyed in particular because I think Samoyeds are the cutest, and I hadn't seen hardly any anthro Samoyed OCs at the time. I leaned into the breed's signature fluffiness to help my fursona stand out from other canine OCs. She has simple identifying traits like being fat like me, wearing glasses like mine, and having a hairstyle kinda like mine (when I tied my hair up in a bun, at least). And there you go. Fursona achieved. She's not a wildly high concept character, but she doesn't need to be

Anyway I realize that this is mostly about the writing aspect, so here's a few quick bullet points about designing a character's appearance:

Face and body type variety are good, but personally I would say lack of body type variety is worse than same face syndrome

Knowing some stuff about shape language is good, but you don't have to be completely beholden to the "circles are friendly, squares are sturdy, triangles are scary" shit. I'm generally more interested in using repeated shaping in different parts of a character's design as sort of a shape motif. Melody's body, hair, and tail are all made of round, swooping shapes, for example. (This is more applicable if you're designing cartoonier characters as opposed to realistic humans, obviously.)

Knowing some basics of color theory is also good. I like using complementary and contiguous color schemes on characters and generally try not to use too many distinct colors on one design. Black and white and grey and various browns are good as neutral colors to balance out the colors of the rainbow, and gold can be a nice accent color

A small handful of identifying accessories can be fun, but don't rely on those to make a design stand out. Ideally your character should still be identifiable even when not wearing their default outfit, or even in silhouette

Aaaaaand I'm gonna call it a wrap there! This is a huge topic, so hopefully this helps with at least some of the basics! At the end of the day, though, don't beat yourself up if you can't sit down and force yourself to come up with the most crazy awesome OC ever. Just have fun and be yourself!

[yakichoufd]

I got that issue thinking I would have a fun read and it was interesting but so disappointing too. There will be a of lof of spoilers here, so don't read my post if you want to enjoy that story first. It will also become an illustrated "fanfiction" cause I had to draw few things haha! I liked that Scott and Alex's parents survived their plane crash and both boys could have a normal childhood. The story is from Alex's point of view which is quite interesting. He barely remembers the plane accident, but Scott does (even if he never talks about it, but him remembering that event is important). Alex doesn't really know where he belongs since his big brother is "great at everything". Scott is great at school, sport, he has friends, he cares for his baby brother etc... and Alex feels like he is living in his brother's shadow. Then Scott get his mutation and get a personnality switch. Even if he controls his beams, he still freaks out and panics most of the time (which is fair, his power is very destructive after all). Then the story takes a direction I did not enjoy, so I won't talk about it. I will just explain what I would have liked to read instead. I would have loved for the two brothers to bond over what Scott was dealing with. For once Alex's big brother needed help and support. Alex could have been there for his so "perfect" big brother. It could have reversed their roles and boost Alex's confidence. It could have create a deep relationship between the two brothers.

Scott is traumatised by the plane accident. He has a nightmare seeing aliens looking after them when their plane hit the ground. It is during that nightmare that Scott's power manifests. Maybe him freaking out about his powerful mutation is linked to that traumatic event. Maybe he is scared of destruction since their plane got hit by alien's weapons? Maybe he thinks the aliens did this to him? I don't know but he is a very scared kid who is cclearly afraid of that attack. Scott could have talk about that to his parents. They are very supportive and caring. That story could have grown their family bond stronger. Plus both brothers have a destructive mutation, that could have made them closer than ever. Continuing with that alternative universe. Xavier gives up on Scott a bit too fast (which makes little sense imo) but I would have find it interesting that a less awkward Scott meet Warren, Hank, Bobby and Jean. He could have joined the mansion still as a lost teenager but his social understanding would have been so much better.

I do not think he would have fall for Jean like he did in the comics. Maybe he would never have fall for her since he was popular back home. I think comic Scott always fell for Jean because she was so perfect and he was a lost kid who had nothing but a lot of love to give. Or he could fall for her once he is more mature. I love that HC that Scott is a bisexual bean, so he could have had a boyfriend back home. Bobby could have understand himself a bit faster seeing Scott with another boy.

Scott being in a loving family he would be at ease with his sexuality and he and his family's popularity in town made everyone accepting everything easily. However Scott still being afraid about his mutation, he wouldn't have tell anyone why he went to Xavier's mansion. Whcih would confure his mutant friends a lot. Scott could still have trouble with accepting who he is and how his loved ones see him which will be his personnal dilemma.

(Todd is the OC boyfriend haha) Warren and Scott could have been close friends and maybe more. Angel is a very caring character too and he would have understand Scott's scasred mind. I think Scott could still have being brainswhased to become a child soldier (which would terrified his parents) but it would have helped Scott to accept his power. He could still become an amazing field leader but I do not think he would have stayed under Xavier's manipulation long. He would have take his own path eventually. He has the confidence and his years with the X-men would have created his network. I think that AU has a lot of potential and it didn't need to become over dramatic as the original issue did. Siniter could have shown up later or not at all. I do not think he needs to be present in Scott's life in every universe. Being a mutant is already hard as it is, you can always find dama around that if you want a dramaticc story.

[zucchinitart]

skinty LJ 💕

finally gonna make a ref sheet for this man!! repurposing an old sketch cuz I still generally agree with the design…I actually intended to render that old sketch but never did 😭

now here’s some never-before-revealed lore and headcanons!! (this all takes place in a story I’ve never created except in my head 💀 also some have been told, I’m just reiterating them):

-This is how LJ generally looks between the years 1817 to 1886. He was “born” in 1803, stayed with Isaac for one year, got stuck in the box for 13 years, and only started wearing bandages in 1817 once he became a target to the public. As he started getting more wounds, he found out that they would open up easily and opted to wear bandages most of the time.

-He can’t eat as he lacks a digestive system. Instead, he feeds on human interaction. The more positive the interaction, the better it is for him. Because he had such a poor relationship with humans during these years, he ends up looking starved. He’s quite weak in this state, and the only thing keeping him alive is his wit and his sharp nails for weapons.

-His limbs are black right above the connection of his joints (knees and elbows). The rest of his skin is white.

-His hair would be naturally curly, but due to improper care and the long length dragging it down, it ends up looking wavy and sometimes even straight, albeit very frizzy and/or greasy.

-In 1886, that’s when LJ and Lillian first meet (omg OC and canon??? gross 😰🤢). They create a pact, and he starts getting more positive interaction with humans. As he gets more “sustenance,” his wounds start to heal properly and he gets stronger. Unfortunately, most of his wounds have scarred over at this point and they remain on his body as it’s now recognized as “healthy” tissue. (Placement of scars will be in another post)

-Lillian is 23 when she first meets LJ.

-Before his strength improved, Lillian could actually beat LJ in an arm wrestling contest!! But after about a few months of being together, that was no longer the case. (Lillian’s ego was a little hurt, but it was inevitable 😞)

-Although it looks like it, he never actually felt starved. He doesn’t experience typical feelings like hunger or fulfillment.

-Sadly, he’ll never retain his curl pattern. Lillian tries very hard to get it back as she has her own experience with her hair, but she can never get more than a few curls on his head. She gives up at some point and just accepts his wavy/straight hair as is. LJ truly doesn’t care either way. If he had his way, he’d probably forget and never wash it again.

-the dickless look is on purpose!!! No reproductive system means no dick!! Yippee, no nsfw 🤗 Unless I feel freaky, which will most definitely happen…so if you ever see him with a dick, it’s just for my own nefarious purposes 😞

-When Lillian first found out how old LJ was, she said “wow, you could be my grandpa….” LJ didn’t take too kindly to that and scolded her like a grandpa.

-His body stopped aging once Isaac died. In this version, Isaac dies at the age of 21. LJ is physically around 5 years older than Isaac, so his physical age is stuck at around 26 (but it’s not rlly trustworthy as his body isn’t comparable to a typical human’s…I’d say it’s probably between 25-35 though)

I want to get into so much lore, but I wanna save it for when I draw a comic or something. Ty for reading if you read this far!! 💕

[staytinyville]

Kiss a Girl

↣ Summary: When Bang Chan is finally over a break up, he comes across someone that seemed to make things feel like he was a high schooler again.

↣ Characters/Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

↣ Genre: fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au, webtoon artist!reader, foreign!reader, post break-up, song inspired fic

↣ Word Count: 2.9k

↣ Warnings: none

↣ A/N: I am from Texas where country songs are just a must. I grew up on like 2000s country songs and will always go back to them lol. But I heard Keith Urban while I was in the store the other day and was like. This is giving Bang Chan. Could it be because they are both Australian? Quite possibly. But TBH I do wanna hear Bang Chan sing one of Keith Urban’s songs. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You have been in Korea for the past month doing some things for a work project you would never have thought to be possible. You were just a simple college kid a couple years ago who enjoyed making comics about a couple OC you created years ago. When the story became a hit around the world it garnered a lot of attention. 

Especially TV companies that were asking you if they could create your story into a series. 

You, being someone who was studying in the entertainment industry, agreed they could use it so long as you were allowed to work on the project with them. Your credits in college really help to put them along for the ride. Now you were going to be living in Korea for a bit until production finished and the whole series came out on the TV. 

In the past month, you had made some good friends with the people you worked with. There were A-list actors who enjoyed your company and sometimes would invite you out to go drinking with them. While you did enjoy going with them, you found yourself attached to your translator a lot more compared to them. 

It was easy to find people who spoke English, especially in the area you were working in. But the way your translator had to stick closer to you than others, you both found yourselves becoming close friends. And for them, as someone who worked closely in an industry that called for a lot of high ends, they were the ones who often took you out to fancy places where normal people would only wait years to get reservations. 

“This is a very classy spot.” You told your friend as you looked around the club. 

“It's a very high end club.” Your friend/translator told you. “Like only a select few people can get in.”

You laughed out loud. “How did you pull it off then?” You asked. 

“Did you forget where it is that we work at?” They laughed. “Of course we are going to get the best stuff. Just gotta be careful because they will make us sign NDA.” They deadpanned at the end. 

You laughed even louder. You glanced around for a moment to find where the bar was, easily spotting it along with a crowd. Just as you were about to head in that direction, you froze for a moment just as someone passed in front of you.

You let out a polite excuse me, bowing your head just a bit. The person looked at you oddly for a moment before giving you a small smile and telling you it was alright. When the man began to walk away, you tried to keep a neutral face, but were secretly panicking inside over you had just ran into. 

“Bro!” You gasped quietly, smacking your friend’s arm. “Did I just see Yugyeom? Like the idol?” You gushed. 

“Probably.” They looked over your shoulders, frowning as they nodded. “This is a popular club for idols because it's so exclusive.”

“Why would you bring me here?” You looked at them wide eyed, feeling like you were going to make a fool of yourself and risk a lot of things. 

“This is where a lot of people in the entertainment industry come when they want to experience normal things. Like a club.” They explained to you. “This place is also really popular with the younger generations. You’ll probably come across a couple of people winding down from promotions and stuff.”

You did in fact see a couple of more idols. Your friend was the one who explained to you who was in attendance at the club for the ones you weren’t able to pick out right away. There was a good amount of older people as well, at least at the bar. 

Once you got a drink in, you dragged your friend out to dance, laughing as songs you weren’t able to make out the words to blasted on the speakers. WIth how much your smile seemed to stretch across your face, other people began to notice you. Many of them were much to shy or reserved to go out and dance along with you but there were a few who wanted to feel your excitable energy. 

“Hello.” A girl smiled while talking in English, coming into your closer circle. 

“Hi.” You beamed, holding your hands out to grab onto hers. “Come dance!” You swung her arms around as you tried your best to not look like a fool. 

But it seemed the more others drank and the night went on, you didn’t have to worry much about that. Things would never change once people had alcohol in their systems to make them let loose just a bit. 

With you dancing along with the girl, a lot more came to join your side as your contagious positive attitude had an effect on others around you. 

“Like this.” The girl laughed, trying to copy your silly jumps.

“Yes!” You laughed, trying to get others to dance as well. 

Just as a large crowd was beginning to form on the dance floor, there were others going around and enjoying their time with friends. There was an idol who had just arrived after finally getting out of his post-break-up slump. He was ready to get back out there and mingle with new people after being in a mental blockage when it came to friends. 

His bandmates had gotten him to agree to going out with his closer friends that weren’t any of them. They had other things to do, which did make him a bit upset but as they had told him, he had a life outside of them as well. 

“Chan!” Yugyeom hugged the man’s side. “Look at you! Finally out.” He said, showing him towards where the others of the group were. 

“I don't know.” Chan nodded to himself. “I'm ready to be out.” He said. 

“For once and it's not in the studio.” Another one of their friends teased, lightly punching Chan in the arm. 

The Australian laughed, looking around the club he had not been to in a while. He took in the large crowd that was going on around the dance floor. 

“There's a foreigner?” He furrowed his eyebrows, turning to the others. 

“She's cute!” A friend called out. “Been dancing and getting others to join. Seems social.” He added. 

“I'm going to go ask her to dance.” Yugyeom called out, going to join the crowd. 

Once others saw the boy coming down to stand next to the floor, everyone else seemed to join as well, having you get sucked into the crowd that was chanting as songs continued. Yugyeom came up to you giving you a smile as he caught your attention. 

“Dance?” He asked you.

“Oh, sure!?” You nodded your head, moving to turn and face him as his song started to play. You laughed watching as he tried to explain to you the dance moves that came along with it. 

You kept laughing, cheeks hurting from the fun you were having. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to experience something like this back home. You have been to bars but the energy isn’t the same as a club that was meant to pump people full of adrenaline. You enjoyed the atmosphere, it helped your need to be social. 

“Yes.” Yugyeom gushed in English that had an accent. “Like that. Good!” He gave you thumbs up to show that you were correct. 

You laughed at his way of trying to speak to you. You waved him off, telling him thank you in Korean which made him laugh even more. He tried to have a conversation with you, but you laughed most of it and tried to explain to him he needed to speak slowly in order for you to understand just a bit more. 

When a new song came on, you hadn’t noticed someone else coming up to your side. All you did was turn to face the DJ stand as you began to sing to Stray Kids TOPLINE. You laughed as those around you began to do the same, in your own world. You turned to the person next to you, shouting out lyrics as you both gave off the same energy. 

You started singing louder when you noticed it had been Bang Chan singing along with you. The chorus came around and you fully turned to give him your attention, trying to keep up. Bang Chan felt something in his chest as he danced with you to his own song. It wasn’t that he was proud, it was just that he seemed to be content with how you didn’t seem phased with who he was. 

When the song came to an end, you clapped for Bang Chan, giving him a dazzling smile that made him turn his lips up. 

“You know Stray Kids!?” He asked you, shouting over the speakers. 

“No, who are they!?” You shouted back, face looking serious. 

You almost laughed at how Bang Chan’s eyes went wide and he looked at a loss for words. “I'm just kidding. It's really nice to meet you.” You gushed, bowing your head.

“Oh, you don't need to bow.” Chan awkwardly giggled. “It's okay.”

“I got used to it here!” You told him, coming to stand up straight. 

“Would you like to sit with me?” He asked you after a moment.

Your eyebrows raised, eyes wide as you took in his question. Looking just around him, you noticed your friend quickly nodding their heads, telling you to accept the offer. 

“Am I allowed to?” You laughed.

He thought about it for a moment, looking over at his group of friends. “Ah, if you don't tell anyone.” Chan chuckled. 

“Sounds like a risk.” You hummed. “I'll take it.” The smile you had made Chan a bit dizzy.

It had been so long since he had seen someone look at him that way. He had a ton of people look at him that way actually, but never to someone who made it seem like they just wanted to be friends. Chan had no problems with hookups, but it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t over him because they knew him. 

You did know him–sure–but you were taking into account who he was which made you a bit cautious. While it was normal for others to be that way, you weren’t scared of talking to him like you had been friends for years. 

When he showed you where his friend group were, you laughed a little at how they seemed to begin hollering when Chan brought you over. 

“Don't listen to them.” He shook his head. 

“Even if I did, I don't think I'd understand much.” You told him honestly. 

“Are you visiting then?” Chan asked, allowing you to sit down first before he sat in front of you. 

The music was much quieter in the area, but you figured it had to do with the fact that the table was sectioned off in the VIP. They had their own bar as well, classy stuff. 

“It's for work. I'm going to be here for a few months.” You answered him. “I did study what I could but I still need people to talk slowly.” You explained. 

“Ah, I see. I see. Lucky you, I speak English.” He laughed. 

“Even if you didn't, I'd try my best.” You nodded your head. “Miss the chance to speak with Bang Chan? Mega producer who’s part of 3RACHA?” You gushed, making his face turn red. 

“I wouldn't say mega.” Chan shrugged, getting bashful. 

“I mean I don't know.” You pursed your lips in thought. “The Scoville scale is out here close to blowing up.” You laughed. 

Chan bursted out laughing, cheeks hurting from how much he was stretching them. “You're cool.” He told you. 

“Why thank you!” You waved him off. “I pride myself on being cool.” You said.

“Han would like you.”

“Just going to drop bandmates on me as if I'm not freaking out on the inside.” You suddenly said, making him laugh. 

“You and I both.” Chan answered truthfully. 

“No! Please don't! It's all cool!” Your eyes went wide hearing his confession.

You both spent a good hour sitting at the table laughing about stories that would come up or just things about the other’s life. Chan hadn’t noticed when his friends would get up to get more drinks or when they would go out to dance. And they didn’t want to disrupt you two either, eyeing each other with smirking as they teased the poor boy behind his back. 

Before you knew it, you were telling your friend that you would be heading back to your temporary home with Chan as company. They gave Chan a thankful smile, bowing down in respect for someone of higher standard. But they told you to be careful, having gotten used to you always telling others that whenever they would leave. 

You found yourself outside some plaza eating Tteokbokki from a small restaurant outside on the sidewalk. The night was nice and cool, leaving you in a refreshed feeling after having danced in the hot club. Chan was laughing at you struggling to get the rice cake on your chopsticks. 

“Why would you eat it like that!?” He laughed, covering his mouth.

“I can't pick it up with the chopsticks!” You exclaimed, stabbing the rice cake treat with both chopsticks so it looked like you were at least eating them correctly. You managed to put it in your mouth before looking up at Chan who was pursing his lips. 

“Don't look at me like that!” You gushed, smile on your face. 

“It's like this.” He moved closer to you, trying to get you to hold the chopsticks correctly. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to use them, it was just that trying to pick up slippery food proved to be harder than you cared to admit. 

“I'm trying!” You exclaimed, moving closer to him as he kept trying to put some food on your chopsticks. 

As you were moving to place it in your mouth, the slippery cake fell from your utensils and onto the floor. “My Tteokbokki!” You cried out.

“Ok fine. Keep stabbing it.” Chan laughed, giving up.

Next thing you knew the night had come to an end and Chan had walked you to the building you were staying at. He had his hands in his pockets, looking up at the tall apartment building before giving you a kind smile. 

“This is me.” You told him. “I had a great time.” You confessed. 

“Me too.” Chan smiled softly. “Thank you for coming out with me.” He added. 

You laughed as your face flushed red. “Of course. Thank you for inviting.” You told him. 

“Ah. I guess I'll see you.” Chan nodded his head, shoulders dropping for just a moment. 

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, soft smile on your face. “I had a really great time. I mean it—thank you for taking me out. Only could ever dream of something like that.” You told him honestly. 

“Yeah.” Chan thought about something for a moment, which made you stop from going in completely. “Ah, is it okay if I ask for your number?” He asked you.

“I mean for me it is but is it for you?” You joked once more. 

“Sounds like a risk. I'll take it.” He mocked you from earlier.  

“You know though, I really don't want to make you sign an NDA.” He quickly added after you both traded numbers. 

“To kiss and tell is just not my style.” You sang off, grinning from ear to ear. 

Chan laughed for a moment, understanding your joke. “But the night is young and it's been a while.” He played along. 

“Ah, you know it! Wasn't expecting you to honestly.” You told him.

“I'm a music producer—I listen to a lot of things. Besides, it's kinda relatable.” He smiled a little, looking down as he took in a calming breath. 

You weren’t going to ask about it, it wasn’t your place. You knew what the song was about–it was one you had heard since you were a little kid. Besides, Chan was an idol who had secrets to keep from the public. That was one of the first things you had to get used to when moving to Korea and working in the entertainment industry. 

“Then I'm happy to be that girl you wanna kiss.” You joked, thinking about the rest of the song.

“I wouldn't go that far.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

You gasped, eyes going wide at the scene you had just made. “Making me sound like a fool then. Ah, forget about it.” You said in a rush, face red from actual embarrassment this time. 

“No, I don't think I will.” Chan hummed, stepping closer to you. 

You watched him step closer, feeling your heart stop for just a moment as he placed his lips against your cheek. “Goodnight, (Y/N).” He told you softly.

“Goodnight Chan.” You smiled. 

You waved him off, turning around when a cold breeze blew past you. He continued on his journey towards his car parked in the front of the building. 

“I wanna kiss a girl. I wanna hold her right. Maybe make a little magic under the moonlight.” You sang to yourself, nodding your head along to the nonexistent beat you were playing in your head. 

“Don't wanna go too far just to take it slow. But I shouldn't be lonely in this big ol world. I wanna kiss a girl.” Chan quietly sang to himself as he walked home. 

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @smilingtokki

[swe3tte4rs]

" An unexpected meeting of a mother and son " - Batmom!Oc and Jason Todd/Red Hood

Summary : Dahlia (Oc) tries to forget about her second little baby and his death after the arrival of her third sweet son. But she didn't know that she would have a very nostalgic visit.

Author note: Hello!! Before you read this and find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment 🙏, my main language is not English 😓. Also, this is my first "Oneshot" (I think it's a Oneshot, but I don't know), so I didn't know whether to put Batmom as Y/N or as some OC, so I decided on the OC 💪. (This Batfamily is a mix of comics, Webtoon, series, movies and headcanons… so… you know, not everything will follow the canon 😇)

TW: angst????

"Oh... God... my sweet boy... my little angel... Please don't him..." The woman murmured between sobs as she leaned against her husband's strong body.

"I'm sorry, Dahlia..." Bruce apologized in a murmur as he wrapped his arms around his wife. He felt the same as his wife, although much more frustration and disappointment in himself for not being able to arrive in time to save his son.

On the other hand, her eldest son, Dick, also had tears in his eyes and felt desperate because he couldn't do anything to make his mother stop crying. He approached her mother and hugged her. strongly.

Dahlia had just received the devastating news that her sweet second baby had been brutally murdered. She felt a void in her heart, one where she was filled with the love of Jason, her sweet angel. Dahlia couldn't even feel anger or the feeling of wanting to kill whoever was guilty of the murder, she was too busy drowning in her own misery and pain, deep ones that won't heal for a long time.

Some time has passed since the devastating death in the Wayne family. But, another little one had joined the family as the new and third Robin.

Tim was a child genius, with amazing detective skills. He was also a very loving and cute son to his new mother.

Dahlia with the new arrival of Tim Drake as her third child, she did what she could to forget about Jason and fill that void in her heart with Tim's love.

Dahlia loved Tim as she loved her two other children. She made sure Tim felt loved and protected by a mother, doing everything any mother would do with her little baby, like spending a whole day with him going shopping.

She was happy with the new member of the family, she loved him. But even with Tim by her side, Dahlia couldn't forget her sweet little angel, Jason.

The woman went to the cemetery every day to leave flowers and clean her son's grave. "I'm sorry my sweet angel…" Dahlia said softly as she placed the flowers on the dirt covering Jason's coffin.

Tears began to run down her cheeks as she remembered those beautiful moments she had with Jason. Remembering when Jason used to tell her every detail of the missions she had as Robin and fought crime. Although it hurt her more not to be able to hug him and remind him that she loved him with all her soul. "My baby… I'm sorry…"

Dahlia sighed and wiped away her tears, stood up and walked away from the grave, thinking that a rest would be good for her and that she shouldn't come to the cemetery every day…

Another short time passed, Dahlia was in the kitchen preparing something to eat for herself, since she had already made sure that her husband and children had something to eat before going out on patrol. She was calm in the kitchen, with nothing on her mind, just taking care of what she had in her hands.

Until she heard heavy and slow footsteps approaching the kitchen, where she was. Dahlia thought it was Bruce, maybe he had arrived earlier than normal. When the footsteps finally finished echoing and they were already in the kitchen, Dahlia turned to look with a smile thinking it was Bruce.

"You came back early hon-…" Dahlia spoke but she interrupted herself upon seeing a stranger with a red helmet.

She tightened her grip on the knife she was holding. "Who are you…?" Dahlia asked with a hint of fear and distrust. "If you come closer I swear that-" Dahlia was interrupted when she saw how the stranger took off his helmet and revealed his face.

Dahlia couldn't believe it…she was seeing her dead son in person. Her expression changed to one of surprise mixed with sadness. She began to feel that her eyes were going to start crying at any moment, but for some reason she couldn't let go of the tears, first she wanted to know if she really was her son or just a hallucination in her head. "Jason…?" Dahlia said quietly as she dropped the knife and covered her mouth with her hand.

Jason placed his helmet on the ground and clenched his fists in anger… or perhaps, frustration. He looked at Dahlia and stared at her. "I thought you loved me, like you loved Grayson. Like your son." He spoke, trying not to let his anger and desperation show. "But I only see that you got a replacement." Jason added as he clenched his fists tighter.

Dahlia opened her mouth but not a single word came out, she was shocked, was it really her son who was in front of her? Or was it just one of her other hallucinations? Dahlia didn't know whether to really believe what she was seeing, what if this was all a dream? Her Jason should be dead. However, she was seeing him in front of her, with some scars on his arms and face.

Regardless of whether it was a dream or not, she was going to hug her son.

Dahlia rushed towards Jason and quickly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug with a tight grip as tears began to well up from her eyes and slide down her cheeks. "Oh Jason… Please forgive me my sweet angel… I'm sorry for not having been a good mother to you and not being able to go and protect you… I'm so sorry honey…" Dahlia said between tears and sobs, holding his son tightly with no intention of letting go.

Jason wanted to push her, but she just wouldn't let him; Dahlia was his mother, his support, and the most beloved woman in his life. He was just resentful, frustrated to see his mother with a new son. Frustrated to see how his mother was loving another child. Jason felt as if his mother had completely forgotten about him after his death.

But after hearing Dahlia call him by his old nickname, he saw those moments pass by when he was happy playing and talking with his mother. He couldn't deny it, he loved how her mother's laughter could be heard along with her smiles.

Jason pursed his lips and simply hugged his mother back, tighter. And his vision began to cloud with tears that he wanted to hide but he let them out, unburdening himself in Dahlia's arms. "Ma…"

[HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!!!]

[doppel-doodles]

Turns out I actually have so many ideas for grown up Timmy Oml-

No doodles of the ideas yet I am just trying to get out the brainworms and thoughts, if I actually have something I’ll make a part two for this-

In the meantime have a regular Timmy doodle and for those interested some ramblings below:

Concept 1

Comic artist

Timmy always read to me as a really creative kid with a very rich imagination not to mention his love for comics like the crimson chin.

Also be for real, cleft the boy chin wonder was basically baby’s first self insert oc.

So I really like the idea of a future where Timmy got to make his own comics, maybe he works on a reboot of the crimson chin comics orrrrr he is retelling his own childhood adventures from when he had fairies without ever considering that it wasn’t just his imagination but reality.

Heck maybe making a crimson chin fan comic is what’s jumpstarted his career so that later he gained opportunities and made his own series?

Also in this idea I can say proudly: “bro is just like me fr fr.”/j

Like any artist and writer he suffers creatively twice.

He is a chronic procrastinator and there are two reasons he is able to keep any of his deadlines:

They are called coffee and redbull.

He has passion, he has fun but god damn his work ethic is just about the worst example he could give his kids which is exactly why he doesn’t LIKE letting them see him work.

He is unorganised and constantly suffering from art block,writers block- bro is basically just in a creative burn out 24/7.

In a new fish he could maybe pop in via holding a meet and greet, signing copy of his works and the likes. Hazel and or dev could be fans of his work and thus shenanigans happen.

Concept 2

Child care

Okay this one comes with a bit of backstory: Basically once Timmy got old enough he actually started his own babysitting service, perhaps even together with his friends.

The main reason was of course Vicky.

He could steal away her jobs so she couldn’t traumatise more children by being so,SO icky.

But that’s when he also learned he kinda really liked looking after those little rascals.

Especially babies and toddlers, something about them just set off this warm and fuzzy feeling of familiarity within him.

So as a grown up he would make looking after them his whole career, I haven’t really settled in what way though.

He could be like a nanny for hire, or maybe even a daycare attendant running his own place.

I like to think there are a few moments where he would subconsciously act kinda like Wanda and or Cosmo while looking after these kids but with his own spin of course.

He is pretty witty and was a well known troublemaker in his youth so he knows just about every trick a kid can pull and isn’t opposed by teaching them a lesson by making their schemes backfire horribly.

No harm done except for a temporary wound on the child’s pride perhaps. But then again he is so fun during playtime how can any kid stay mad?

And if he is a nanny for hire: who knows maybe Dev is in need of supervision sometime soon?:>

Sub concept

Child counsellor

Kinda similar to the backstory of the previous idea simply this time Timmy decided to focus on kids who may be a little more troubled due to outside factors like he was.

Because he can SWEAR that back then there was someone who was there for him in a similar he now is for these kids and even if he can’t remember it anymore.

You can bet that there is nothing stopping him from being a safe adult for them to come to.

Concept 3

Fairy

Probably one of the most popular I’ve seen and I gotta be honest it’s a lot of fun to think about, but because so many ideas were already out there I did have a hard time coming up with something that wasn’t just a repeat of someone elses idea’s.

But I think in the end what I settled on is a fun concept:

Remember that episode where we see that unwished wishes get put into a kinda storage unit? And how Timmy made so many wishes his locker was basically about to burst?

I think it would be pretty fun if his duty as a fairy would be to basically reorganise these kinds of lockers and instead of storing wishes somewhere else Timmy has to find a use for them somewhere else.

It’s also kinda funny because I imagine Jorgan did kinda intend this to be a “Got’cha!” Moment, as let’s be real most of these wishes WERE HIS.

But jokes on him Timmy actually likes this job-

[capturecharlesau]

OOOH MY FUCK I DID IT :D I FINISHED ALL OF TOPPAT WEEK! HERE IT IS XD

Since I’m gonna be gone for the entirety of May for a vacay I wanted to do ALL OF TOPPAT WEEK CHALLENGES IN ONE POST before I leave HEHEHE :D

@androidcharles I present you my part of your wonderful Toppat week! :D I Hope you like it :) HERE THEY ARE!

May 13: Airship here we see the our main four Toppats in a work area in the Airship hehe >:D

May 14: A Different Division

In my AU the Toppats are around the world so each country has a senator and represents the Toppats from a specific country and all obey the Toppat King which is Reginald!

Reginald is talking about how amazing the Toppats have been in stealing money wrong the world for him! And in return Reginald would spend the money taking care of his clan <3

May 15: Favorite Toppat

HAH! THAT WOULD BE FOR REGINALD, RHM, SVEN, AND BURT HEHEHE THESE FOUR ARE MY FAVORITE!!!! Here’s them without their hats :)

May 16: Background Toppat

THAT WOULD BE CAROL, MACBETH, EARRINGS, SLICE, SLEDGE, AND WILHELM HEHEHE

May 17-19:

OH MY BABY DANNY IS MY TOPPAT OC HEHEHE HIS GAY BIGENDER ASS WILL ALWAYS BE MY BABY HEHEHE

OH AND MY FAVORITE OC FROM OTHERS IS CRUSHER AND JAY (by @jaytoons7), POLLO (by @00lari00) BRO….CRUSHER IS THE MOST HANDSOME OC EVEEEEERRRRRR, JAY IS THE CUTIEST WHOOOOTIEST LIL OC EVER!!!

AND POLLO IS SUCH BIG BRAIN BABY <3 AND PAPA DAN WILL ALWAYS LOVE HIM HEHEHE

And I decided I wanted to style Kabbitz and Handsome Harold LOL

May 20, 22-24: There is the Toppat Ship, HEIST MONEY, LEISURE at the beach, and DANCER!!! (In my AU if your not a dancer you cannot be a Toppat :)

May 21: Favorite Toppat leader……..

ALL OF THEM-……I LOVE THEM ALL!!!! Even Terry because I can hit his ass with a frying pan HAHAHA!!!

Here are the leaders without their top hats so you can see their hair and hair color :)

May 25: Angst!

Here is Reginald with his neck BURNING in pain from YEARS of abuse from Terrence…. And the one with Burt is actually a major spoiler on what’s gonna happen soon in my comics 👀 roses….hmmmm why is he coughing up petals?

May 26: Swap

LETS SWAP CHARLES AND BURT HEHEHE

May 27: PARTY

HAPPY ITA DAY/MONTH!!! I HAD SO MUCH FUN MAKING THIS THANK YOU FOR THIS PLANNER @androidcharles

LETS ALL CELEBRATE AND THROW OUR TOP HATS IN THE AIR 🎩

[happyunbday2u]

So I recently saw a comic on YouTube about Husk having a daughter when he was alive so now I can’t get it out of my head and now I’d like to welcome Spade and Diamond, human names are Scott and Diane

They died some time in the late 1990’s and were born in the late 1940’s

I like to think Husk was a good father with a soft spot for kids, I am still thinking on their mother’s design but I have the backstory ready, this includes Husk being the Vietnam war.

Their life couldn’t have been more perfect if it weren’t for their dad having to leave for war and their grandmother trying to convince their mother that she could do better, but it got worse when they found her dead after being missing for weeks. (Plot twist! The Grandma killed her because if she wouldn’t leave Husk then there was only one thing left to do! JK it was a moment of sheer rage and the next thing she knew her daughter was dead in her arms, she doesn’t regret it because now she has her precious grand babies)

The only thing Husk came home to was his mother-in-law telling him to give his kids to her, she got in his head by telling him how he’d be able to care for them alone, without his wife, without their mother, so with much pain he gave them away.

They didn’t want him to do it but he told them it was for the best, they tried to hate him for it but they couldn’t, Scott was the one who ended up becoming a rebel and while his sister didn’t he got into some trouble and she had to hide him and one day someone tried to attack them and in a moment of panic she killed them forcing her to the life of crime.

Both died in a crossfire and coming to Hell they resembled their dad (and mom?), they didn’t even know he was there until they watched the new and heard about the fight with the Angels and the Hotel they’ve heard so much about, but there was no denying that they saw their dad on screen.

After seeing it they couldn’t help but go to at least SEE if he really was there. Let me tell you the amount of joy there was in that family reunion was the equal amount as seeing a family of your favorite animal, a bit shocking for everyone to find out that not only Husk was married when he was alive but had kids, but he is the type of person to randomly bring up things about their life and never bring it up again.

Both siblings like Charlie and her energy tho it is a bit much for the two, Vaggie was intimidating at first but then they began to grow a connection and BOTH sides would kill for each other.

Surprisingly they got along well with Angel Dust and they were the first to realize the love in their eyes for each other.

“Why do they make such intense eye contact?” “It’s kinda like how dad and mom did it during anniversaries…oh…” “…Oh..” “OH!”

Niffty is a bit crazy for their taste but over all they can get along with her, Diamond helps her clean.

At first they were okay with Alastor until Husk casually brought up his souls was owned by him, now they secretly hate him.

Spade is absolutely fascinated by Cherri Bomb’s bombs, and has helped her make bigger explosions and make it for farther distances.

Lucifer is basically their new grandfather who spoils them.

You guys can use these OCs if you want just make sure to not say it’s your own OC and tag me so I can see y’all beautiful art or mini fanfic or whatever you decide to do with them ���👍🏽

Edit: i started on a draft for their mother! 1/2/3/4

[perfectprofessorloverapricot]

•| A not so stolen youth |•

Stranger things / Chapter 1

Summary: Everything in life seemed limited to walls of whites and rainbows. Caged within the confines of the lab. But an accident that involved a group of teenagers and the upside down world finally let him free. In a funny turn of events he found himself hiding in a step sibling's shed. A redhead that loves video games and a blond that spends his time making sure to keep his good looks.

Character: Male child OC

Warnings: Possible to descriptive scenes, child abuse, use of drugs and bad language.

A/N: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.

Prev part - Masterlist - Next part

“What does it say here?” Sounded the voice of the teenage redhead in the shed. She pointed to one of the dialog bubbles in the comic.

Thirteen tilted his head in a vain attempt to read better. The comic was in his own hands and moving it wasn’t as helpful as he thought. “Mmm… final… v… victory?” He stutter. He felt he chest warm when he saw the look of pride in Max face while she nodded.

“Yeah. You’re getting better.” She said excitedly. A big smile was formed in the kids face.

It’s been two weeks since they met. And everything’s going good so far.

The day after Max let him stay, with the condition of being careful no to be seen, she went to check on him only to have heart attack when she didn’t find him.

The blankets she gave him were folded and there was no trace of him.

She spent the whole morning of school wondering where he could have gone. It’s not like she paid attention to the classes before.

And after an uncomfortable ride home with her stepbrother she went straight to the shed getting an insult of how weird she was behaving from the blond and disappointment from finding nothing.

She stayed on her room thinking the few things she knew about him while her brother worked out in the living room. She thought about the limited vocabulary of the kid and that she had to read the comics she showed him because he couldn’t.

There were no visible signs of physical abuse but she got a glimpse of a tattoo in his left wrist when he rubbed his eyes after yawning.

The kid is only ten, what kind of tattoo would a kid his age want?

He is dirty and his clothe doesn’t fit him, obviously not his. But still, none of it gives her a hint from where he comes from or how to find him.

She didn’t even know why she wanted to finde him so bad. Or more like, she pretended not to know.

She’s always thought of herself as independent, which was accurate for the most part, but didn’t mean she liked being alone.

Before moving to Hawkins, in California, she made her life outside of the awkward environment of her house. She spent most of her time with her two best friends and going to her biological fathers house. Even when her mother met Neil and his son, she did it.

But now, she is stuck in a place she doesn’t know with her awkwardly nervous mother, an asshole who controls the house and everyone in it and calls himself her father just to have an excuse to “educate” her and a stepbrother that gives cero shit about her.

The kid was like her hope for something better. His innocent soul hasn’t been taught how to be an though (asshole) to confront the live out there. He was a little piece of the remaining good things of the world.

Fortunately, before she could exit and give her stepbrother an excuse to leave the house she was startled out of her thoughts by a knock on her window.

There he was peeking over the edge of the window and lifting a hand with three bags of chips to share with her.

Since then it became a routine that they manage to hold for a week. While Max goes to school and avoids as much interaction with her current family as she could, thirteen sneaks out to explore more. He already knows most of the place like the back of his hands but he still finds interesting the things that people do, even tho he is to scared to get close.

Those are the moments too bitersweet to him. He loves watching others have fun and imagine himself enjoying with them, having a life where he didn’t have to keep hiding, but before he can get a step closer to the kids in the park the fear of returning to the lab and being punished for leaving in the first place stops him.

That’s why he always goes back to the shed. To a place where he knows he is not alone anymore. At least the fear of being found didn’t bother him for the first week, but at the beginning of the second something that neither he or Max could have thought happened.

It was a normal day for them until the girl came back from school and went to her room like usual. But her heart fell once she saw Billy walking out of the house with a grey tank top and a pair of shorts he only uses when he knows his going to get dirty. Which means he is going thinker with his car, which means, he needs his tolls that are in the shed.

She took a shortcut jumping through her window. She run to catch her stepbrother and walked as normal as posible beside him.

“What are you doing?” She asked, trying to act normal.

He threw her a a momentary look, easily realizing her act. “To mind my business.” He answers bluntly.

She put herself in front of him walking backwards, only making the situation even weirder to Billy. “Don’t you have a date? With the… that blonde girl. What was her name?” She tried to remember almost stumbling with a rock.

Billy rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I don’t know and I don’t care. That was yesterday. Now move.” He pushed her effortlessly to the side once they reached the shed.

Max almost face planted in the floor but that wasn’t her priority. She turned to Billy only to witness him stop in his place with the door open.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled.

Max rammed her body against the door and closed it staying between it and her stepbrother. “It’s not what it looks like.” She defended.

Billy rose a brown in incredulity. “Really? Because it looks like you’re keeping a stray in Neil’s shed.”

“He’s not a dog, he’s a kid.” She defended, actually offended. “A really scared kid.”

“And I don’t give a shit. You’ve been keeping him there in a shed that doesn’t belong to you.” Max knew that what he said was true, but she couldn’t let him to his own with the possibility of returning to an abusive home. “What could a kid of his age be scared of? A monster under his bed?” He shook his head. It was ridiculous. “He needs to go.” He said with finality.

Max pressed her back even harder against the door and shook her head.

Billy got closer to her, using his height to tower over her in an intimidating way. “Get him out before Neil finds out or I’ll do it.” He threatened in a gruff voice.

Max genuinely felt scared. She knew what he was capable of, but she bets that the kid is even more scared than she is right now. And she was right, the boy was shaking inside the shed, hugging to his chest one of the comics Max left for him. His favorite comics. One of x-men’s.

“No.” She said with all the confidence she could in front of her intimidating brother.

The blond grabbed her arm in a painfully strong grip and dragged her a few steps away from the shed before throwing her, ignoring her yelp when she fell on her side. “Then I’m gonna get rid of the scaredy cat myself.” He conclude walking with heavy steps towards the shed.

Max panicked. She let out something that she knew could affect him. “He’s scared of his father, okay?” She screamed.

She felt a small relief when Billy stopped in his actions with his hand in the door’s handle.

His hesitation brought some confidence to the girl. “He hurts him.” She explained in hopes of changing his mindset. “I’m not asking you to take care of him. Just don’t tell anyone. You won’t even notice he is here.” She pleaded a little calmer now but still seating in the floor. “You won’t even notice he is here.” She repeated in a soft voice.

Billy bit the inside of his cheek in thought. He doesn't know how long the kid’s been there but if it weren't for the fact that he personally went to the shed he wouldn't know of his existence.

Almost reluctantly, Billy opened the shed again. He stayed in his place but he took his time to actually take a look at the kid. Scared and dirty, the boy stayed in the very back of the wooden place, shaking. Those blue innocent eyes were looking at him, waiting for the worst.

For a second, a small flash, he saw himself in the boy. When he was recently abandoned by his mother and left with his abusive father. He moved slowly to one of the shelves close to the door to grab the box of tools, keeping an eye on the kid.

Once he was out he looked at the surprised redhead in the floor as he closed the door behind him.

He stepped in front of his sister with his always present frown in his face. “If Neil finds out I let you hide a kid in the shed I’m gonna drag you under the bus with me. Do you understand?” He concluded.

Max was stunned for a few seconds but nodded slowly.

Billy scoffed, proceeding with his plans on tinkering in his car but made a las comment. “And wash that filthy kid. His gonna become a charcoal by the weekend.”

Max blinked a few times. She sat there for a moment, processing what just happened until she heard the door creaked open and a pair of eyes accompanied by a dirty fur (at least that’s what it looks like) peeked out of the place. She gave him a toothed smile that soon became a laugh that turned into a cackle that had her almost rolling on the floor.

The boy came out of the shed smiling, visibly confused but smiling. If Max was happy that means good news.

And it did.

Now that she didn’t have to actually hide the boy it became easier to change places between her room and the shed, they go through her bedroom’s window though.

She did what Billy said. She gave him a bath. She took his clothes and left him in his underwear covering it with a towel and sat him in the bathtub. She was horrified when the water changed color almost instantly and she had to change it for more clean water.

She knew he got dirty through the week but not that much.

She was surprised once again when she gave him the bottle of her brother’s shampoo and he only looked at it in wonder.

The kid didn’t know how to use a shampoo, much less the conditioner. He now has hair long enough to go a little below his ears when wet but that’s new to him, he’s always had a buzz cut since he was a kid. He never needed anything more than soap for his whole body, like the rest of the kids in the lab.

Knowing the kid was never taught how to use a shampoo put another knot in Max’s heart. Through how much has the kid gone?

She end up teaching him how to use the shampoo and conditioner. He needed a little help to get some knots out of his hair but it was easy.

Surprise surprise. Under those old rags and all the dirt was a beautiful kid with light brown hair. It was formerly a way darker color.

Even Billy who was just on his way to his room did a doble take to the boy standing patiently in the hall. He scoffed and continued on his way. Who could have thought?

Meanwhile Max was practically buried in the main closet of the house, it was more like a storage room with all the unpacked boxes, looking for clothe that would fit him. More specifically, clothes her stepbrother used, but there was nothing. She already looked for in the unpacked boxes around the house and the closet was her last option.

She debated if she should ask Billy personally. It wasn’t the best of her ideas but it was the only one. The probability of Billy slamming the door in her face where high.

She sigh. It was her only option for now.

Reluctantly, she made her way to her stepbrothers bedroom where he was gathering clean clothes to take to the bathroom. His towel was already in his shoulder.

She knocked on the doorframe a little shy.

“What?” He grumbled without looking at her.

“Can you lend me some of your old clothes. The kid doesn’t have any.” She said in a small voice.

He huffed as he grabbed a blue tank top from his closet. “Why is that my problem? He should have thought about it before running away.” He said in a low voice with a hint of annoyance.

“Come on Billy. You can’t let him freeze to death in the autumn weather. Winter is already close.” She answered with a little bit of annoyance in her own voice.

Billy slammed the door of his closet shut and turned to Max. He already had what he needed. He pointed at her with his free hand. “You said he isn’t my problem and I wouldn’t even notice him. This doesn’t seem like it.” He had a point. “Give him some of your old clothes.” He recommended walking to the door. “You dress like a boy anyway.” He insult on his way out, bumping with Max’s shoulder on purpose.

Thirteen, still in the hallway, looked at Billy in curiosity when he walked by him, even when the teenage was obviously ignoring his presence.

Max huffed at him. Well she didn’t have that much expectations in him anyway.

She guided Thirteen back to her room and sat him down on her bed.

She looked for her own old clothes through the many unpacked boxes in her room, grumbling every time something fell out of the boxes for the lack of space needed.

It took a long time but finally, she found her clothes. she organized it into tree divisions. The too small for the 10 year old kid, the clothes that fits and the clothes that will fit. All of that, after selecting the ones that looked boyish.

By the end of it thirteen already had his hair sticking out in every direction, full of static. He put on and took off everything to measure.

While they were both doing their own things, Billy was back in his room. He discarded the dirty clothes in the laundry basket and dried his hair with harsh movements of the towel. Once satisfied he threw the towel to wherever the hell it flew, he just wanted to fall on his bed and blast some music, but he was stopped when he heard a commotion at the feet of his bed.

He huffed. The towel fell on top a stack of books placed on an unpacked box and caused everything to fall.

He grabbed the towel with annoyance only to freeze when he saw the box slightly opened. The item wasn’t hidden but wasn’t visible either from the door, that’s why Max didn’t see it when she came to ask. The light left a cloth visible inside the box. The box was filled with the clothes Max was looking for and some other things of his childhood.

Memories of the few good times. When his mother was still with him and he was happy.

He hasn’t been able to get rid of the things. To sentimental. But he doesn’t want to be reminded of the past and keeps everything hidden. Just like his feelings.

Agitated, Billy grabbed the box of things, slammed his closet’s door open, threw the box inside and slammed it back shut. He walked to his nightstand and grabbed the box of cigarettes. He lighted one up with hands trembling in bottled fury and disgust towards himself and the world.

The relief of breathing nicotine and filling his lungs with the smoke was almost instant. He held his breath for a few seconds, calming himself first then letting it out just like the bad feelings.

The past is in the past, he cannot be weak anymore. He doesn’t have that chance.

To drown every remaining of that bad taste in his mouth he blasted his noisy music so loud that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts anymore.

Thirteen, still in Max’s room frowned when the music reached his ears. Billy’s door was close and so was Max’s, yet, he could still hear the music very clear. He didn’t like how it sounds.

A little thing he hasn’t told Max yet is one of his rare capabilities. Everyone in the lab new it was a possibility to gain enhanced senses once some of the kids started showing signs of it. More specifically, hearing and smell.

Whatever they did to expand the limits of their minds also better enabled the senses limited by mental capacity.

9 of the 15 kids they had developed the enhanced senses along with telepathy and psychokinetic powers. Thirteen was one of them. He only got the hearing though.

But he never got to interact enough with them because he was separated from the rest of the kids when his father found out he was a late bloomer. He was left in isolation for many hours with the excuse that it was to help him concentrate. He was raised in the east side of the lab while the rest were held in the west.

But still, he ended up better than his father ever anticipated and now he has some resemblance of freedom.

Uncomfortable with the music rumbling in his head he rubbed his ears for a moment. The security alarms in the lab were still worse so it wasn’t that much of a problem.

“Here” cheered Max grabbing jeans, a pair of socks, a navy-blue t-shirt with long sleeves and a red hoodie that has less color than when it was new for the many times it’s been washed.

Happy to cover his chilling skinny body he quickly put on the clothes. Max helped him when he managed to get his head stuck in one of the long sleeves.

At last, when he was done, he had a big innocent smile in his face that was reflected in Max’s own. The clothes fitted perfectly.

“Looking good, uh?” she said rising and lowering her eyebrows consecutively. The smile in the boy’s face widened with joy. “Now you can blend in with the others if you need.” Thirteen nodded in agreement. “Wanna read a comic now?” She asked, getting another nod as an answer.

“Magneto?” asked the boy in hope.

Max laughed a little, already grabbing an x-men comic. She knows that the boy’s favorite character is Magneto. She doesn’t know why but she likes how he thinks outside of the box. Most of the kids like a hero, but Thirteen likes a villain, just like she likes monsters. In some way, they are similar.

That’s how the first two weeks of knowing the stepsiblings went. Enjoying a little bit of liberty and not lonely anymore.

But Halloween is close, and so are other things in the dark he thought he would never see again.

Fortunately, this time he won’t be alone.

What do you think?

Any comment or constructive criticism are appreciated.

[unsoundedcomic]

How do you balance sharing Unsounded info you're excited to share, vs holding back b/c it would reveal too much/spoil their stories? It's probably easier to tell now after starting the comic, but even before you started it, how did you balance what to share with readers/rp partners? Sometimes I want to share info about my oc's, but I'm unsure it would "spoil" their stories if I do anything with them one day. But it also seems silly to never share info, if I never end up doing a project with them

It was never an issue in RP, I had no idea I was going to wind up doing a webcomic. No one really cared much, either. You know how RP is, everyone's in it for their own characters.

In Q&A, I know what the plot is and where the story turns are, so I can keep answers vague, or answer them from the limited perspective of story characters who don't have any particular special knowledge. I went over a decade answering dead Mikaila questions very carefully because, of course, I knew she wasn't really dead and would be coming back. I went even longer never answering how old Sette physically is; just how old she looks.

So I guess you need to outline your story! :) If you know the spoilers then you know the spoilers. Then it's just up to you to have the self-discipline to zip your lips.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Obviously don't answer if it's a spoiler but...

In the show we saw how badly Kuki dealt with things she loved being taken from her / kept out of her reach. Like when her rainbow monkeys were stolen or when Bradley was hurt. So all this to say, how did she take it when Wally (presumably her best friend and the person she loves most in the world) was...taken from them?

I love that these came one after the other because one is the answer to the other.

Long story short, she didn't take it well.

[TW: eating disorder, depression, bad family relationships]

Things were actually going on since the teen AU. I wanted to do a comic or something but due to the nature of it, I don't think I'll ever actually do it, so here's the explanation.

When she turned 13, Kuki started having some hormone problems that made her gain weight (not too much, but she had to be careful about what she ate). Her family noticed immediately, and they started to rudely point out how she was getting fat and using not so nice words to express their discontent. It arrived at a point (in the teen AU) where she wouldn't eat anything during the day, especially in front of other people, feeling ashamed and fearing they would point it out, especially Wally. This only resulted in an uncontrollable hunger in the nighttime, where she would eat whatever was in the fridge and start to hide snacks she bought under the bed when her parents found out what was going on.

Wally was the first to find out what was going on and tried to help her as much as he could, but he really ended up using the wrong words and making her feel worse (not on purpose, but if you don't know how to tackle certain things, you end up worsening the process).

Things seemed to stabilize when she found out she was pregnant, and her hunger somehow was reduced. She passed those months mostly at Wally's place (because it was hell at her own) and the two planned on getting decommissioned, buying a house, and finding stability. Nigel suggested buying the house in front of his own since it was vacant, and with some help from everyone, they managed to secure it and pay it slowly. Their new life looked promising.

Then Wally disappeared.

She tried all she could to keep a happy demeanor, especially for the baby, but as days passed and Wally was nowhere to be found, she felt that hunger return, and found some comfort... too much comfort in food.

Luckily Nigel got to her before it got too out of hand, and for some months lived at her place to make sure she and the baby were ok.

Abby and Hoagie visited whenever they could to help as well, and when finally even the Beetles had sorted their problems out (because yeah, THEY LOST A SON!) they were more than happy to help her with the house, the baby, and more. Especially Lou, for some reason. He was the one Kuki let out about her problem with food, and he suggested getting some help, at least for the sake of the baby.

She did, and in a few months, she also managed to get a job and "move on" as much as she could.

After the Nightmare War (which she didn't know about because of decommission, she just knew there was a huge accident at the Villa down the lane and Nigel was involved), she helped Nigel get back in shape and took care of Penny. Keeping herself busy was her way to not think about problems, and she made sure to always smile to make herself believe it was ok.

She also managed to find a new love interest (not sure if it's going to be OC or canon, still working on this part), so when the Beetles moved back to Australia, she had help and support for herself and Sami.

She had some ups and downs, but overall she held up pretty well on her own, she always managed to find a good side on everything!

Eventually, she and the new partner would break up, and he slowly disappeared from her life, leaving another hole. Again, she found relief in food but in an unhealthy way, this time it got her to the hospital.

She got back up on her feet, just in time for Wally's return. The two didn't get back together immediately, Wally also stayed at Nigel's for a few months so as not to push himself on her and Sami, but they eventually let feelings win.

At this point of the Adutl AU, she has her memories back, is working a job as a daycare teacher, and is still fighting eating problems, where she might not eat for some time.

Luckily, this time Wally is prepared and knows how to help, support, and make her feel loved and special ❤️❤️❤️

[straitjacketzz]

HAVE YOU EVER DRAWN THESE GUYS?

Sooooo idek where to begin with this. I'll start by saying that yes I contacted Rebornica/Bones/Voltergeist and bought two of their old FNAF au designs. Those being Scott/Phone Guy and Jeremy. Before I get into anything I feel like I'm obligated to address Volt's past and let it be known that I do not Care about a mentally ill teenager faking other disorders or aggressively yelling at people to stop copying them or whatever other overdramatic thing they did like a decade ago and I don't think buying from them is anywhere near comparable to "supporting problematic people" compared other designers who are like homophobic or whatever the fuck else, and I'm not here to talk about or argue about "the ethics" of me giving Volt money. So jot that down before you even start typing.

I'm here to ask if anyone here has drawn art of Scott/Phone Guy and Jeremy so that i may save it and add it to their toyhouse galleries. You'll see they both currently have like 100 pieces in their galleries right now but I know that's not even scratching the surface. Theres just so much of it It's overwhelming to look for. Theres also issues of these designs being so popular to the point of people making their Own personal redesigns of them. And it starts to muddy up which art belongs to me or not. This isnt toooo much of a big deal with Jeremy as the giant "?" on his face makes him pretty distinct and easily recognizable as The Guy That I Own. But this becomes a problem with Phone Guy specifically. He is... pretty much The design that everyone draws him as regardless of if they intend for it to be Rebornica fanart or not. People use this design in their own AUs, people use this design as their own OC. Theres so so so so so much art of people labeling their art as "heres my phone guy design!" and its just the Rebornica design. And I don't feel comfortable or really have the heart to save anything that people consider to be theirs even if its literally the design that I own x__x It's just a bit hard when you own a design that is considered canon enough to a real video game to the point where people just. Take him. and there's nothing I can do about that. And it's not something that upsets me tbh because I knew this was an issue when I Bought him. Literally all I want to know is what art I can or can't save and upload to their archives lmao. So I figured asking people to send me their art directly would help reduce the chance of me just taking someone else's art that they didn't intend to be My phone guy. Not even counting the fact that a popular FNAF fan game called Dayshift At Freddy's has their own version of phone guy that ALSO had the red rotary phone head but wears a black business suit. So, any art of That One isnt mine.

But anyway yeah! And just know i'm looking for literally anything involving these guys. Digital art, traditional art, gifs, animations, physical/irl art, doodles, comics, fanfic, cosplays you made, even weird misc stuff like ponytown designs for them, literally anything and everything!!

also because i keep getting asked about it, Vincent, shadow vincent, mike, vendetta, mahogany, faith, captain, vex, sheriff, fritz, hocus, and boss have also all been sold and multiple different people own these guys now. and for vincents owner specifically, i will not be giving out their username as they Do Not Want To Be Contacted About It.

im cross-posting this on multiple websites so feel free to reach out anywhere where its most convenient for you. reblogs are appreciated for reach

twitter: straitjacketzz discord: straitjackets toyhouse: straitjackets

[cas-readsandwrites]

Welcome

Setting: TLOU, right after S1 finale, back in Jackson

Characters: Joel x OC reader, Ellie

(I started a whole thing with like 6 pages of back story and decided nope none of this was what I actually wanted to revel in for now, so a few helpful things to know are that OC is one of the original Jackson settlers, has a social work/psychology background, and Linda and Bruce are the people who lived in her house Before Cordyceps)

Length: 2.5k

Rating: This one is all-ages fluff (...for now?)

I stood in the middle of one of the greenhouses, looking around me and to my flower garden. I didn't know anything about this man and the new girl, other than that they had somehow made it across the country alone, willingly left Jackson, and came back again. My platitudes of nice flowers and silly games seemed insufficient. They more likely needed… tetanus shots. Vitamins. A very soft pillow. 

Well, I am who I am, I decided, and things like this are what make our town thrive. I clipped some lavender - everybody loves lavender, it's nice and calming. Sunflowers. They were a little garish next to the lavender, so something to tie it together. Hydrangeas? Sure. We actually had a lot of hydrangea bushes around town, they were an easy perennial plant for the retirement and time-share crowd who lived here before, but most needed to be cut back whereas mine were regularly maintained and now different colors and sizes thanks to my experiments with soil additives. I added some ornamental greenery and wrapped it in an old feed bag, and placed it in a basket from the stash on the shelf. Soft purple, vibrant yellow, light blue… suddenly it felt fitting, the colors of the sky.

I had already poked around at school and even in my basement, but Linda and Bruce didn't seem to do much as far as entertainment for their grandkids. At school I found a box that a patrol team had brought back full of items I wasn't sure what to do with yet, and had brought home some comic books and Monopoly Deal. Joel definitely didn't seem like a man who would care about flowers, but I wondered if Ellie just might enjoy an adventure and a competitive game. 

Well, here we go. I picked up their basket and left the greenhouse, cutting back across the main street where I had laid eyes on Ellie and Joel all of two times from a distance, and down the residential streets that led back to the neighborhood. Maria and Tommy had offered up the house across the street from theirs, and it felt different, good, knowing that there was a growing family on this street, not another empty house that was a reminder of who used to be there or should be there. 

The sun was starting to set in that dazzling way it does along the spring equinox, fading periwinkle blue split with fiery streaks of pink and orange. Birds flew overhead or rested in the small tended yards, quiet noises came from open windows around me and my favorite boots meeting the pebbled drive. I felt the bittersweet grief that tinged moments like this, heart aching with guilt for my mother, my friends, the people I left behind outside who didn't get to see this through, but the joy that at least some of us did. I marched resolutely up to the door of the blue house, and knocked. 

I had the wherewithal to step back down the porch stairs, knowing from experience that most people didn't recently live in places where their front doors received polite knocks. I was glad I did, because the front door cracked in and, lit by the setting sun behind me, I saw the glint of a dark, wary set of eyes, and a pistol held at ready. Though at least it was pointed down.

I moved very slowly backwards and down another step to the walk, talking another step back once my foot found the ground. “Hi there. You won't need that, it's just me.” 

The only sign he heard me was the quickening of his chest, like his breath was catching up after being left behind, and the tensing of his jaw and slight flare of his nose. 

There was a sudden thumping behind him and the door flung the rest of the way open, the girl I knew was Ellie shouldering her way past the man who I could see now was Joel. He tensed his jaw and closed his eyes, and for a moment I really was afraid he was going to freeze up or faint. 

“Hey! I saw you earlier,” Ellie said, “are you on that council with Maria?” Behind her, Joel seemed to make a strong effort to take a deep breath and holstered the pistol on his belt. 

“Jesus, Ellie-” he said, but she cut him off already. I suppressed a smile, wondering how in the world he kept his patience for months out in the open with her. 

“Ooh, neat!” she said, going for the basket. “This one's new,” she grabbed the game and held it up over her shoulder for Joel to see behind her. “What the fuck, where did you find these?!” She grabbed the comics, leaving the basket and the flowers, turning to him. “At least it's not Volume 3 of Will Livingston.” 

He shook his head at her, finally crossing his arms and looking more at ease as he leaned against the doorway. Perhaps it was because I was already standing down three steps, but now that he was standing in the open much closer than the distance Maria had pointed him out from earlier, and seeing where Ellie pushed past him, I realized how tall he was. Not just tall, but broad across the doorway, her small frame not even reaching his shoulder. Well, that intimidation factor and reaction time probably helped them on the outside. 

“You can't just barge past me like that,” he said to her. “We don't know people here yet.”

I opened my mouth again. “You don't have to worry about that, you're safe here, really. People actually do just knock on doors because they want to see their neighbors.” 

I watched, interested, as they both looked at each other, some sort of quick, invisible communication with minute changes in expression as Joel pursed his lips and cocked his head at her and she shook her head back in an exasperated way. He ticked his head again, before turning back to me.

“And it's not polite, Ellie,” he said, a southern accent softening “polite”. “I'm uh, sorry about that,” he acknowledged, fiddling with the handle on the gun and dropping it back in the holster. “Just not used to seeing a whole lot of other people around.”

“That's alright, really,” I said again, reaching out to pick up the basket to hand to him. “You must be Ellie,” I said to her, stepping past her to hand the basket to Joel. “I see she got the good stuff already,” as she triumphantly held up the books and card games with a grin, “but Maria told me you were back and staying, and I know it's not much but I try to drop off a few things to everyone new, just something nice to brighten up the house, I know how gloomy it can be even if we try to check on the unoccupied houses.” 

Joel tentatively reached out, and I dropped the handle into his palm - a hand and fist that matched the size of the rest of him. Ellie peered over the edge. “OH, I like those, we saw a lot of those,” she said, pointing to the sunflowers. 

I smiled. “I bet you did, they do pretty well with no one looking after them, especially in a field, the birds just take the seeds and more and more spread.” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “We-” she suddenly cut off and looked at Joel, a question across her face and a closed expression from him. As an almost-officially-trained clinician, their interactions were really something to watch. 

“Yeah, we did see some farms and stuff,” he acknowledged still looking at her.

“Do you know this game?” She asked, holding up the Monopoly Deal. “I know Skip-bo, and Boggle, and some poker and stuff-” Joel's stern, cautious demeanor broke and he rolled his eyes in a recognizable heaven help me expression of a parent - “do you want to play?” 

I realized she was asking me and that my eyes were caught on Joel. “Oh- sure! Well, I'd love to, but it's getting kind of late, we should ask, um…” my voice trailed off as I looked over her at Joel and realized Maria didn't give me a straight answer. Father? Uncle? I had met some people in really terrible situations, what we had blatantly called human trafficking before and now accepted as just terrible captive situations, and they didn't strike me as such, but I still realized I didn't actually know what they were to each other. 

He cleared his throat and pushed off the doorframe. “Just Joel,” he said. “One game, Ellie, you'll have plenty of time to meet more people soon.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, sheesh. Hope it's a really long game.” She grinned mischievously at me. “Come on. It's not as dusty here as I thought it would be.” She held the door open for me as she walked through. I had to sort of slide past Joel as he turned to make room in the doorway, my basket in his hand, sunflower petals and hydrangea bunches absurdly small and delicate in his grasp. I glanced up at him with a shrug meant as both permission and apology. This was his home now, after all. The gravity of his presence somehow made me stop as my eyes caught his, the purple-blue light of the sky casting his profile into a jagged relief echoing the mountains behind him. His eyes seemed to search mine for a minute, soft and light in contrast to the strong lines of his brow and jaw. 

“There's enough room at the table, I think,” Ellie yelled, and I about fell over across the threshold. I caught myself and stumbled toward her voice in the kitchen. “It says we have to have a draw pile and a bunch of discard piles and ooh cool fake money and stuff-” I made my way towards her and as I looked back at Joel, standing in the doorway of his own home. I swear he chuckled, though at myself or at Ellie, I wasn't sure.

Later, after I had thoroughly schooled Ellie in Monopoly Deal - which I felt slightly bad about, more due to her impatience in reading the directions and her ruthless strategy to buy and sell everything and take chances on the draw pile - and she repaid me by rattling on about comic book characters that I couldn't keep straight, Joel intervened from the corner he was sitting in. He had spent the evening sitting off to the side watching Ellie, or pacing around the house and poking in drawers or shelves he probably had not had a chance to take inventory of yet. I noticed throughout the game that Ellie's eyes often flicked to him, as if she was keeping stock of how far away he was and what obstacles she might have to run through to get to him. He didn't look towards her quite as much but I noticed he often kept his left side to her and even when elsewhere in the room kept his head tilted to her, attuned to her voice and sounds of.her hands on the cards and feet kicking the chair or stomping the ground. 

“All right, it's full dark, come on Ellie. You've eaten, you've played, you gotta sleep.” She only mildly protested, and he leaned towards her. “You've seen the whole house. I got it, it's ok,” he added softly, and I pretended to look away in interest at the shelves in the kitchen. 

“Only because it's a real bed,” she pointed at him. “If it's full dark, old man, you better go, too. You don't have to take watch tonight.” 

Out of my peripheral vision focused on the 21-year-old calendar likely melted to the side of the refrigerator at this point, I saw traces of another one of their invisible exchanges, dubious, questioning, acquiescing, before Ellie gave an exaggerated sigh bounced up from the table. “‘Night, Rosie!” She said to me. I looked back from someone's dentist appointment reminder in September 2003 to wave to Ellie as she walked through the kitchen to the living room and up the stairs. 

Joel leaned back and sighed, rocking his chair on the back two legs. “Thank you for that. We've met a few people on the way, but it's been a while since she had a chance to just be a kid like that again.” He rubbed his hands over his face

I nodded, my sensibilities barely keeping my curiosity at bay. 

“There are plenty more games in the mess hall,” I said, “and most houses have some too, seems like the kind of place a lot of families went on vacation, there's a surprising amount of useful stuff left. Or we repurpose the stuff that doesn't seem useful.”

Joel nodded this time. “Rosie, was it?” He asked gruffly, the fatigue of whatever their journey had been clearly pressing on him.

“Or just Rose. It's something Maria's called me for a while, probably because roses were the first things I tried to grow here. Or maybe it refers to the whole rose-colored glasses idea.” I waved my hand around at the game, the house. “I know it's not easy getting here, believe me, and I work with a lot of families and kids at the school who are still processing it, but I think we have it really good here, and I'm happy with it.”

Joel made a noise low in his throat, and the hair on my arms goosebumps and my stomach made an unfamiliar swoop. “We've seen a lot, maybe a bit too much to see it like that,” he said, almost too quietly. He added, more directly this time, “that your real name? What people call you?”

I decided to challenge his mumbled comment. “Does it matter?” I looked straight at him, at those soft warm eyes so in contrast with the rest of him. 

He tilted his head to one side and shook it once slowly. “No, don't s’pose it does,” he answered, either about my name or the comment. He stood up, balancing his instincts with likely some long-dormant attempt to remember manners and hospitality, and I made it easy for him, knowing this was only their second night back.  

“Goodnight, Joel. Tell Ellie she can come visit whenever she wants, as long you're OK with it,” I added. “I work at the school and run a group at the greenhouse too, the families know the kids are pretty much welcome at any time. I have a literal open door policy, even at home.” If my door is open, everyone knows they can come in and find me.

I paused, my hand on the door as his eyes followed me through the dim light of the kitchen, basket of flowers in shadow next to him on a counter. “Welcome to Jackson.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

6/9 We Appreciate Power

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

If one thing was sure with Simon, it was that he was never quite what he seemed.

It turned out that he was in a relationship for the first time since his twenties. He had a whole bunch of protocols, one of them being that he didn't date, didn't do relationships, didn't get attached. He said it was the usual approach in his line of work, but she didn't quite buy it. Other personnel and some of his teammates had partners, even children. She dared to believe that Simon was breaking his rules for her.

Simon was far more invested in people's lives than he would ever have cared to admit. But even if he appeared to harbor a tendency to protect those who could not do it for themselves, he didn't treat her like she was a helpless damsel. She was sure he would, after The Incident and especially after The Revelation, aka trauma dump. But it only felt like he had gotten more evidence of her toughness, her survival skills.

The more she learned about his past, the more she began to realize that he had a soft spot for the weak and suffering. He made no big deal out of it, but in her eyes, he was a hero for having saved his brother from drug addiction and beating his father close to death for everything he had done. Even the Puranic stories knew that demons needed to be punished, not forgiven; it was their only chance for redemption. To her, Simon was Krishna wrestling down Asuras who tormented innocents. He used his father's curse of anger for good.

And he didn't make her decisions for her. She wondered if things with her were much like with Soap: Simon let them both fuck around while he did the backup from a distance.

And another thing was that you never had a dull moment with Simon. Because one lazy Saturday morning, a week before Christmas, a ghost appeared in her hallway.

"Jesus Christ…!"

She had just brushed her teeth, but when she opened the bathroom door she was met with a huge masked man standing only a few feet away, just in front of her front door.

All the remnants of sleep vanished instantly. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, then slammed against her ribs as she saw the faded skull print on the black balaclava.

"Fuck." Her hand had shot to her chest, and she was sure every hair in her body was standing on end. But of course Simon only found the whole situation entertaining.

"Haven't heard that in a while."

He was dressed differently this time, introducing her to the professional soldier who was, even without the load of war gear, intimidating. She knew that he was a tall man, tall and broad, but now he seemed to shrink the entire hallway. The black cargo pants, waterproof jacket, padded, fingerless gloves and military boots could only be described as tactical — he was drenched in black on black on black, but it didn't make him look any smaller, quite the contrary. The dark brown eyes stared at her from under the skull balaclava with brazen mischief. When she finally caught up with her breath, she began to wonder how on earth Simon had even got here.

"Someone might think you're breaking in."

"Technically, I am."

She peeked at the front door behind him and was ready to scold him for breaking the lock, but there was no sign of any vandalism on it whatsoever. How the hell did this man do all this shit?

"Did someone see you?"

He crossed his hands over his chest like he had just been insulted.

"What do you think."

In a normal situation – if there was a thing called normal with Simon – she would be dangling from his neck by now. But he looked so impressive, so imposing and foreign, that she was suddenly shy.

"Ugh… Why do you have to be so, so…"

His eyes narrowed into a smile as she tried to search for the words.

"So you."

"You wanted to learn how to shoot."

Well, the last time they had spoken on the phone, she had asked him to teach her, but he had refused, saying that she would have to go to a range and receive tuition there like the rest of the folk. But it appeared his ego had gotten the best of him.

Because why else would he appear here like this, looking like a kidnapper, burglar and a commando guy, if it weren't to show off and get another reaction out of her?

"Now? It's raining."

The weather outside wasn't exactly inhibiting. It was just another London day where you couldn't tell if it was misty or rainy. And as if he had heard her thoughts, Simon raised his eyebrow and gave her a look that said Are you fucking kidding me?

"You got two minutes to get changed."

It was a command, and her eyes widened from him just ordering her around. Then she got back to her senses and simply obeyed. While combing through her bedroom closets, she figured Simon was being generous for her sake. Two whole minutes…

December this year was far from a winter wonderland: the weeks had been warm, rainy, and grey. But it was still wintertime, the kind of cold and wet that pushed through layers of clothing. She picked the most durable outdoor clothing she owned, paired it with her only merino base layer, then decided to change her underwear too. Into something more lush, something she had bought just for his sake. Just in case things got heated on the way back home or before they went to have a shower together...

As soon as she rushed back and had gotten her shoes on, he picked her up in a fireman's carry and headed to the door.

"Someone might get the wrong idea," she laughed at the pure audacity of this man as she watched his feet swallow the tiled path that led to the street.

"I can live with that."

"Simon, seriously. Someone might call the police."

"That would certainly be interesting."

She was hauled to a colossal car with darkened windows and tires the size of a mini horse — some kind of a preposterous off-road land cruiser she could never in her life afford. If this was his own car or if it was leased through work, she couldn't tell, but it was precisely like Simon: dark, robust and fierce.

He drove safely enough though; calm and collected, like he was driving a family car to a shopping mall. It was such a delightful little detail that she briefly thought that Simon would make a good father.

After about a 40-minute drive off the city, they reached some abandoned gravel pit in the middle of nowhere. The weather had stayed much the same, but the cold she felt came from finding herself in a completely unfamiliar setting.

She waited demurely as he opened the trunk, unloaded a few gun cases, and then picked up a black tactical vest with pouches filled with ammo. She watched with her mouth dry as he swung it on, adjusted the straps, and looked even more massive with that thing. She was given a set of eye and hearing protection, and then the first case was clicked open. It held some sort of rifle.

"I thought we would use a handgun?"

"Not before you've practiced with long barrels."

Practiced…? Just how hard could pistol shooting be?

He gave the gun to her and told her to get used to its weight. She didn't know whether the safety was on or off or if the gun was even loaded, but she pointed it to the ground as Simon went to set up targets a rather long distance away. She ended up strolling around with her shoulders tense, holding the gun like it was an explosive that could go off any minute.

This was just fucking crazy and she felt like a fool… and Simon was marching back, looking like a whole goddamn war movie.

He took the gun from her, adjusted the sight, and showed her how the bolt action worked. She only now saw that the chamber was empty – of course he wouldn't leave her unattended with a loaded firearm – then watched how he grabbed a magazine that looked like a little box and pushed it in the stock with seasoned motions.

"This is a Browning X-Bolt rifle. Good for hunting both deer and people."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at such hillbilly talk. Simon put the hearing protection on, which was a sign for her to cover her ears as well. He fired only one round to see if everything worked correctly, then gave the gun back to her.

"Remember to squeeze the trigger. Don't yank or pull it."

He then adjusted her stance, which she had briefly tried to imitate from him. He came behind her, and the gun was raised and tucked against her shoulder like she was a child who had to be shown everything by hand. And she guessed she could be compared to an infant when it came to these things.

It was a whole other ordeal to try and memorize everything he said when the hard ridges of his gear pressed against her as he showed her how to hold the rifle. And it certainly wasn't an accident for him to pack his crotch against her too. They hadn't even kissed yet, let alone reveled in the usual, steamy sex that occurred the moment they met after weeks of pining on the phone. He was like the devil himself, pouring that dark, raspy velvet in her ear and knowing perfectly well that he left her aching after every single call. Long distance relationship was a sweet, sweet hell.

"Is that a knife in your pocket?"

She could barely detect the slight tensing of his core as she said it. The shoulders caved in just a little, the hand that was snaked over hers tightened its grip only marginally… So she raised the stakes.

"Or another long barrel?"

"Concentrate."

"It's pretty hard to concentrate with a barrel up my arse."

There was a short silence, and she bit her lip — Simon never let her have the last word, not to talk of teasing him like this without being punished. The hearing protection was lifted just enough for her to catch what he whispered in her ear.

"Should've fucked you before we came 'ere."

Her pussy clenched at that, quite involuntarily, but the dark honey combined with that gruff purr while he was pressed against her was simply too much.

"You would've been all nice 'n' quiet."

Well, it was now obvious that further punishment would ensue after the shooting lesson. Her nipples grew taut, and not from the cold. He gently put the hearing protection back on before taking a few steps back, his warmth leaving her like a cloak she had been deprived of.

She took a deep breath to level her head, then slid her finger on the trigger and braced herself for the kick. It was enough to mess up her aim, but the second time was easier now that she knew what was coming. After the third round, Simon came to show her how to change the empty mag.

"That's it. Good girl."

"For God's sake, Simon, you're not helping."

The third magazine she changed herself, with shaky hands, because shooting had turned out to be both thrilling and nerveracking.

Next up was a submachine gun, during which point she was literally sweating. Everything looked nasty and technical, and she felt like she didn't know shit about anything.

"Ok, now this one you gotta keep steady, or else you'll find yourself shooting at the sky."

He adjusted the grip of her left hand so that instead of cradling the gun in her palm, she bore her thumb over the rail for better control.

"How do I keep it steady?"

"With muscles. I know you got some."

The first few spurts were full of shy stress, but she got used to the feel of it after a while. The first magazine was empty just when she started to have fun. He came to change it, and she did another round, during which Simon gave her curt advice — "don't let the gun control you," "lean into it a bit," "elbows in line," and so on. It was absolutely ridiculous how the clink of bullets on the ground could make her feel like she was Rambo or something. After the third mag, Simon deemed it done, and she almost felt sad to be departed from the gun.

"That went well."

"Yeah. I like this one," she agreed while looking at the black steel like she had just made a new friend.

"You little maniac," he said while giving her an approving once-over. The sexual tension was electrifying, the smell of acrid gunsmoke made her feel exceptionally wild, and she started to understand why people were attracted to these things. She had thought that anyone could fire a gun, but she was wrong. It required practice like any other activity, it demanded both patience and strength.

Some of the expended cartridges had melted the polyester of her jacket in a few spots, one had even burned a tiny hole in the fabric. Simon noticed her surprise as he took the gun to return it to the car.

"Yeah… Burns real nice when they catch some skin. We call them brass kisses."

After the SMG was back in the case, Simon lit a cigarette, and she felt even more timid. Seeing him in this kind of setting, hauling guns around, lifting that mask to have a smoke, dressed like he was going to some special operation, suddenly reversed months of acquaintance. She was out of her element while he was 100 % in it, and the aspects that had made her fall for him were turned up not by a notch but by a stretch.

"Now we get to the pistol. And this ain't no toy. You really gotta pay attention to your form." The cigarette hung from his lips while he emptied the gun, then took a drag like it was just his second nature to fire some shots while having a smoke. The magazine was changed by the same hand that held the empty one like he had done this a thousand times before. Probably because he had.

She would never have thought that this was what she was really into. She had spent years searching for a soulmate in future professors or decent guys who were safe and dull. All of that evaporated into thin air like the smoke from his tobacco.

It felt almost shameful that she found such a stereotypically masculine man not only intriguing but so attractive that she felt weak in the knees. To gawk at the display of muscle and war and dirt and get wet from the smell of gunpowder and his sweat as he came close to show her how the guns worked… It felt like a betrayal. She had always looked down on these people because she had simply thought that wars were stupid and anyone who wanted to be part of such violence was stupid.

But Simon wasn't stupid or simple; he wasn't a jackass with distorted views of honor and ethics. In fact, he was one of the most intelligent, morally sound people she had met. Perhaps a little gloomy and with a twisted sense of humour, but those things only added to his depth. Simon wasn't cannon fodder, nor was he a gun-crazy, trigger-happy recruit who had made reality of most boys' fantasy life. He was a relic of something essentially, fiercely masculine, a man in a world full of boys.

He came to give her another crash course on how to line the sights, take off the slack from the trigger before firing, how to square her stance toward the target. It also seemed that she was gripping every weapon wrong. Whether it was a limp wrist or the wrong spot for grip, he saw it and corrected her on it.

And after firing a few rounds, she understood why they had started with rifles. The pistol shooting was an absolute shitshow. Aiming that small but feisty piece required an extremely delicate yet stern hand.

"See what I mean?" Simon changed another mag for her, and she tried to hide her sulking.

"Yeah. Why would anyone want to use these things?"

"Easier to carry and disguise."

After the second mag was empty, he told her he had been mean and that beginners usually started pistol shooting from 7 yards away. The target she had hit only a handful of times was more than 20 yards away.

"Got one more beauty," he said, went to the car, and came back with a monster. It looked heavy, even in his hands, and for a moment she thought they were about to shoot with a machine gun in the middle of serene countryside.

"What the hell is that…"

"I saved the best for last."

It turned out to be a large caliber rifle with a scope, typically used by snipers — only, this one was larger and more powerful from the usual military use. The silencer at the end of the barrel only increased the outrageous appearance of the weapon.

"Don't look so glum. This should be easy."

She got a nice little setup that included a poly tarp and a tripod for the gun. Shooting prone with a mounted gun gave her the much-needed support, and the scope made her feel that even a person with a Bachelor's degree could do this shit. The recoil didn't scare her this time; she even liked the feel of it when it got absorbed into her body.

"Lookin' good."

And the commentary from the back made her realize that the absorbing thing no doubt meant that more than just her accuracy was on point.

"I'm sure it does," she said mainly to herself while silently happy about Simon unmistakably checking her ass out. The sniper setup was so much fun overall that she asked for extra mags. He only had two, and the session was soon over, and her cheeks were red from both joy and the brisk morning air.

Simon came to crouch beside her, and she turned on the tarpaulin to give him a smile that must've told him just how happy she was. He smiled back with his eyes, which now held a hungry glimmer in them. Yup, he had definitely checked that ass out.

"That's it," he said while removing the protective gear for her.

"Can I join your team now?"

"Sure. You'll make a great mascot."

She fake punched him for that, and he caught her wrist while laughing at her sad tries to pose a threat to someone like him while lying on her back. The next punch was not that playful, even if she was laughing too. It soon turned into a whole wrestling contest until he finally climbed to mount her.

She figured he had bested her and relaxed under the straddle of his thighs, but the greedy look in his eyes only increased.

"C'mon. Fight back a little."

She guessed this was just another need to show off, but she felt reckless enough to indulge him. She caught him slightly off guard by diving an arm around his neck while doing a hip bridge that almost bucked him off to the side, but he quickly drove his other foot to the ground to prevent himself from being toppled.

"You've done Jiu Jitsu?"

"Beginners course, 5 years ago," she answered to the mild surprise in his voice, then tried to push herself out from under him with an escape from the mount that usually worked… at least in a training situation with other beginners. But Simon countered it easily, and she soon found herself being seized in a chokehold from behind while trying to break.

He took her back down with him, even wrapped his legs around hers, performing a perfect rear naked choke on her. She should've known that Simon was adept in martial arts as well.

She was staring at the sky while clutching the steel muscle that forced her to lay her head beside his. It was a pure instinct to reach for his forearm to pull it off, even if he was holding her in place rather than doing an actual choke.

"You're always far more fun than you let on," he whispered in her ear, so close that the fabric pressed on her skin and sent tingles down her spine.

"Glad to be of entertainment even here," she said while trying to maneuver herself out of the choke, to no avail. That bastard even let go with his other hand, quite capable of holding her in place with just one arm while the other began to travel down.

She froze from the heady realization that Simon hadn't spread the tarp just for shooting purposes. It had been laid there for some other action entirely.

The hand forced its way under the waistband of her pants and swept over her underwear, cupped her with no fanfare, just to inspect the state she was in.

"Of course you're wet." The voice was dark, amused, and slightly out of breath as his legs forced her thighs further apart still.

"Of course you're a cock," she said while trying to suppress a moan. Her muscles were already sore, but she didn't want to go back to a warm house, a hot shower, and a soft bed afterward. She wanted him to continue whatever this… exploration was developing into.

He stroked her through the thin fabric she had deliberately chosen to wear today under the all but erotic outdoor apparel, and knew he could feel just how wet she was. All the fight left her, her legs relaxed into the spread they were forced into, and her hips ground against that hand, utterly wanton and shameless. She assumed it was her way of tapping out.

"Fuck…" she cussed the second time today as her head laid back to rest on his shoulder.

"Just say the words and I will."

"I already did."

"Nah… you gotta say it." The grip on her throat tightened a little while he swept a thumb right over the spot that was crying for attention, and her eyes squeezed shut just from the sheer frustration this man aroused in her.

"Please. Just..."

"Yes luv?"

God, he was annoying...

"Fuck me," she submitted like she always did.

"With pleasure." He rolled them both to the side, and she was quite literally manhandled to lie down on her back. She dutifully helped him remove her pants and noticed she wasn't the only one having trouble with restraint. She had never seen a man so enthusiastic about getting her clothes off.

But when he was met with the high-waisted lingerie composed of strings and sheer black lace instead of the plain black knickers she usually wore, there was a pause.

"Fuckin' hell…"

And she could understand the allure of it now: there was something enticing, dizzying, about pale skin covered in nothing but a few thin threads and see-through mesh. Especially when contrasted with a giant male encumbered with magazines of cold metal and dressed in black, rough ripstop. She knew he carried not one, but two knives this time: one on the back of his vest and another strapped to his thigh.

"Don't destroy them, ok?"

He was still looking at the dainty little thing like it was the most fascinating sight he had ever seen. And to think that she had almost left them at the store because it felt foolish and corny to wear something like this just for him to take off.

"Simon? Please."

The dark stare flew briefly to her eyes before darting back to the ridiculous thing that, in her opinion, didn't deserve to be called clothing.

"Since you asked so nicely."

The lace looked even more pitiful in contrast to those reinforced half finger shooting gloves as he reached to take the garment off. The whole scene must've looked like a threatening situation rather than the passionate encounter of two lovers: a giant soldier opening his pants to get his cock out and adjust himself between the legs of a half-naked woman. If anyone from school saw what she was up to this weekend, they would've probably fainted.

And how on earth could it only feel better every single time he slid in?

He did it sluggishly — it was his bravura: to torture her and watch how she gasped and tightened around him. He turned the most basic things into a fantasy, made a simple missionary feel like a holy event.

"Now that's a hungry cunt," he commented with a barely restrained groan. She nearly told him to just shut up for once…but didn't because as always, that talk only made her clamp around him more fiercely.

"Try concentrating on missions with this tight lil' fit on your mind…"

At that, she was speechless, but her fingers curled around the shoulder straps of that stupid tactical vest he wore, the contents of it pressing against her uncomfortably as he slowly filled her. He so rarely rushed, even when the air was filled with so much intensity that there could've been sparks flying from their contact. It was aggravating how patiently he could slide in and out while they were both trembling, while whole worlds were shattering from the insane passion at work here.

Her thighs were already quivering from the stretch and mutual tension and the knowledge that they were doing this in broad daylight under a dull, gray sky, on a tarp that smelled of storage room, gasoline, and lifeless plastic. But even that was nothing compared to the masked man above her. She couldn't feel skin except for the part inside her and the pelvis that brushed her as she so willingly opened up for him after they had fired guns like they were some bloodthirsty, lunatic couple.

And Simon was breaking records every time they met. She felt cold, alive, and so happy that those three words were so close to slipping out this time that it brought her to tears. And he just kept making love to her in this disturbed setting where the sniper rifle was still lying beside them with the safety off, wearing that unbelievable skull print mask that made her want to scream because it was so cringey and hot at the same time.

"Simon," she started, not knowing what she wanted when she already had everything she could ever wish for.

"What can I get ya?" He murmured to her neck, the warm breath hitting her skin through the mask and providing some alleviation to the December cold. The plastic sheet made scrunchy sounds beneath them as he continued to shag her while she was having another breakdown from the love she felt for this man.

"I- Just… a little faster," her whisper rose as a mist in the air as she tried to come up with something other than I love you. He chuffed against her neck in amusement but granted her request, and a few tears escaped.

She was crying while everything was already soaked. The foggy morning and her pussy were equally as wet for Simon to have a nice, refreshing Saturday filled with all the things he enjoyed the most. Her whole body ached, both from the cold and the love.

She nuzzled her way under that mask and finally met precious skin, salty and heavy with the scent she now associated with all things Simon and safety. She kissed his neck like an idol at first, then with more passion, like she was starving for the whole essence of him. He messed up the rhythm of his thrusts for a brief moment, just from that subtle touch of hot breath and wet tongue. And then there came a swallow and a pained sound — almost like a hushed, uneasy sob.

He was suddenly speechless too, there were no commentaries on how good she felt or how well she took him or even that good girl talk. Simon was fucking her on mute for the first time ever, only sighing and grunting as he went. He wouldn't even look at her. But it felt even more sensual, their most sensual fuck yet – that everything just trembled and shuddered and shifted like continental plates.

The build-up was far from hasty and desperate. It grew inside her, layer upon layer of swelling heat and devotion until her whole body went tense. The shaking stopped — but he wouldn't; he completed the job the same way he did everything in life. Confident, meticulous, unwavering.

When she came, he still wouldn't say anything, only hummed against her with a satisfied rumble. It was stupid, how she felt more like a goddess on that tarp than on the bed they usually did this. It felt idiotic how she felt like a goddess at all... But there was no other word really, to describe the sensation of total elevation and surrender that followed from being filled with a man like him. He was supposed to be a simple grunt and turned out to be everything but. He was full of magic, an embodiment of otherworldly power. It made her cry and left her legs shaking.

He allowed himself some mercy only after she had had her pleasure, and the sex became feverish. She dared to roll the mask up just enough to find his lips, and he allowed it, answering her kiss almost violently.

"Fuck I've missed you," he panted in her mouth like it was a confession torn from him by torture, and before she could say anything, he crammed his mouth on hers again. He never showed affection straightforward, and the sudden frankness pierced her heart like a javelin, far heavier than his actual mass bearing down on her.

The love fluttered inside her chest like a painful secret as he prevented her from returning the closeness that bordered on unbearable. He eventually came with a few hearty thrusts and broke the kiss, and the liquified stare behind those half-lidded eyes was a whole nebula of sore adoration. If this was anyone else, she would've deemed that look vulnerable.

He was perfect, and this day was perfect, and she felt a sinking, sweet fear in her stomach from getting everything she wanted and then some more – because it could never, ever last, not in her world of experience. This was simply too good to be true.

His head hung heavy beside hers, then came to rest on the crook between her shoulder and neck like he was in need of a short, cuddly moment. While valiantly supporting himself on his elbows even after the climax, his weight still managed to steal most of the air from her lungs. The magazines, albeit softened by the pouches of that vest, dug into her skin even more painfully. But she didn't care — she even wrapped her legs around him, as far as they would go, to prevent him from ever leaving her. And he didn't withdraw for a good long while. Lately, he wanted to stay inside her for as long as possible, and it was another thing that sent her to the brink of tears.

"That was…" she broke the mist of silence with words and felt him sigh.

"Yeah."

Her hand was halfway under that mask, and she could feel his hot sweat under her palm, the cold British fog licking her fingers. If she would ever catch Alzheimer's when she grew old, this was the memory she would fear losing the most.

"You're one hell of a man, Simon."

"I like you too, Sarah," he chuckled, but she could hear it… The word 'like' had started out as something else, and he corrected it just before it curved to love. The heavy accent made it roll off his tongue like it was just his usual manner of speaking, but it was there.

And if that wasn't evidence enough, he was abruptly tense, having realized he had almost made a mistake. And why would it be a mistake? Because it would've been mortifying to be the first to say it?

She looked at the heavy sky above them and smiled. Insufferable man… he was bold and fearless and hardy but turned into a stubbornly proud man with these kinds of things.

She opened her mouth to be the one with more balls, but he got off her, and the moment was lost somewhere in the folds of that tarp. Her cowboy looked at her with warm, sleepy eyes.

"You look like shit."

In his language, and said with such overly puffed up affection, it meant gorgeous, or magnificent, or beautiful. She could hear in his voice that he was inwardly beaming — like he was looking at a mess he was proud to have wrecked.

"Gotta clean you up when we get back," he chimed, no doubt eager about getting to run his hands all over her slick soapy body after first making a dirty mess of her.

"Enjoying this a little too much, don't you think?"

"Not nearly enough. Put some clothes on before I attack you again."

He was gentleman enough to help her back into her clothed and shoes, laughing when dressing her turned into yet another contest and they nearly stumbled on the tarp all over again. The elegant material of her freshly bought underwear didn't stand a chance against the cum that seeped out of her in a sudden rush. She was definitely in need of a shower.

The trip back was mostly filled with a satisfied silence as a few rays of sun broke from the clouds to shine through the windscreen. It was still early, the day had just begun. They would probably spend the rest of it, hopefully, the whole weekend, at her place — doing good food and sharing silly stories from work and school, sleeping late and misbehaving like two hormone driven teenagers.

"I got you something," Simon spoke when they were nearing the city, offering some sort of a short bladed knife. It had a t-shaped handle, and she intuitively wrapped her fingers around it so that the blade was protruding from between her knuckles as she drew it from the hard nylon fiber sheath.

"Looks… vile," she said while apparently holding it right since Simon didn't correct her on it.

"Push dagger. Very handy in close combat. Would ease my nerves to know you have it when you're, ah…"

"At work?"

"Especially there."

She felt like a psycho when a smile crept up her face from handling such a cruel-looking knife supposedly meant for punching people in the gut or neck.

"Is this legal?"

"Not in the UK."

"Right." Her nerves would not be eased by the knowledge that she was carrying an illegal weapon with her. But she already knew there was no two ways about it. How many times had she walked home from the club in an anxious sweat? And when did all that dread become normal? His gift was actually delightful.

"I can leave you that Glock too. Just keep it somewhere out of sight until we get you a license. It's for emergencies."

She thought about commenting on using it accidentally on a certain guy who had broken into her house this very morning, but then again, she knew she couldn't kill a man like Simon in a million years.

"Sure. Thanks."

Other guys had bought her books and manicures as a gift, taken her to the movies. Someone had even bought her a large TV as a birthday present. Mainly to watch football from it himself.

But Simon… Simon gave her a vicious looking knife and a pistol to protect herself with and fucked her under the sky after teaching her how to shoot with different firearms.

"Look at you all smiles," he observed her with remnants of sultry smoke still coating his voice. She realized she was watching the road with a silly grin on her face.

"You had fun today?"

He tried to appear distant and thick-skinned, but ended up taking care of her safety, went to great lengths to find out what she liked, and always made sure she was pleased. If she had known who she was dealing with from the start, she would've been more polite. But then again, it appeared her nerve was what had caught his interest in the first place.

"Yeah. And I got a lot of presents... Guess I have been a good girl after all."

"Hm. That you have."

The sun shone so brightly that she had to squint her eyes. It was the perfect moment for giving him a gift as well.

"I got something for you too." She reached for the gift that wasn't even wrapped, because she hadn't planned it to go this way, but it was of no importance right now.

Simon remained as solid as always, but the pale eyelashes fluttered in the bright morning light when he saw that she was holding the key to her apartment between them.

"So you don't have to break in."

It wasn't much, it wasn't a massage or a gift card or anything like that. He didn't exactly need it. But it was symbolic, and he accepted it with a solemn, courteous nod that meant more to her than any appreciative words or overly expressed gratitude. He was speechless for the second time today, meaning that his feelings had gotten the best of him.

[unknownlemoneater]

Hellsing oc lmao ((more abt her under cut))

Part 1 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ Part 1½ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

((side note; Before I start, I dunno anything about skinbenders if it’s an actual thing, I just got the name from a comic book character and then just freestyling the rest, and my writing is horrible.))

//ability//

Calico can shapeshift into much more than just animals or human. she can shapeshift her whole, or part of her body into whatever she wants, objects, weapons, animal-like, anything she wants. for an average skinbender, it’s easy to spot them through their disguises, they always look deranged, or something’s just off and inhuman about them. but not Calico, She’s always flawless with her shapeshifting ability and that fact does give her a bit of an ego. Calico has to wear one’s skin in order to shift into what she wants, so does that also mean she consumes scraps in order to shapeshift into an object? Maybe…

\\Likes \ hobbies\\

⟡ Using her shifting ability, Calico loves to terrify the soldiers around Hellsing with her body horror, and Seras is definitely her favorite to scare, she would stand in dark corners and just stare. But unfortunately ((or fortunately ?)) the only people that wouldn’t fall for her antics is Alucard and Integra, makes sense because Integra had to deal with Alucard within the second half of her childhood so she should be used to it at this point. and I’m sure Alucard vampire senses would know Calico is there before she even get to do anything.

⟡ shifting into a cat and pretty much doing whatever the fuck she wants.

⟡ joining Hellsing was just like a retirement for Calico, doing random activities around the mansion while also becoming a vampire Hunter to satisfy her animalistic nature to kill. crocheting, bone collecting, gardening, just to name a few of her random activities, but her favorite out of all is baking, and sharing her baked goods to hellsing while they’re completely oblivious rather or not if she ever put anything in the food they’re eating, and she haven’t... yet.

⟡ Women. ((Not in that way))

((ok maybe a little in that way..))

//Dislikes//

⟡ Bald people.

((k here some concept))

\\The character\\

⟡ relaxed, serene, insensitive, sadomasochistic, two-faced, extremely kind when she feels like it, can be manipulative at times, and a challenge to provoke.

⟡ Calico speaks with a lot of hand gestures, and even touch the person she’s talking to, she does not acknowledge personal space, or possibly doesn’t even care. Her voice is usually soft, calm and almost robotic in someway, with a Chinese Mandarin accent, but her voice does change when she’s in her original form, it’s like a raspy, loud whisper. Calico has no filter, she would announce how ugly a baby is, in public, in front of the parents.. or casually ask a person why are they ugly, or bald. in other words she will say shit that probably shouldn’t be said out loud, or say what everybody in the room is thinking out loud in an awkward situation as another example and all with a small smile remaining on her face.

⟡ and there’s other times she’ll just stand there like a statue if anyone isn’t Interacting with her or just doesn’t have anything else to do.

//more random stuff abt this character//

⟡ Skinbenders aren’t exactly born with a pacific sex or gender, all their genitals pretty much the same and can be used the same way as both human male and female genitals, in other words, you could breed or be bred by them. ((WTF DID I JUST TYPE IN BRO 😭)) what I’m trying to get at is Calico is technically a trans woman if you think about it.

⟡ Calico forgets to blink sometimes, just putting that there.

⟡ ((I have this weird obsession with what a character bedroom would look like, so best believe I’m gonna explain what her bedroom looks like,)) most of her room is completely normal, a dresser she never felt the need to use, a vanity and shelves occupied with her small animal skull collection but what sticks out the most is instead of having a bed she has a nest in the size of an average king size bed made from majority of blankets and pillows she have stolen around the mansion all occupying in the corner of her room, she could be very protective of her nest, only allowing the people she trust the most to even be near, aka Seras, Calico has tried inviting her master Integra into her nest, but was always rejected.. so that’s why Calico has taken upon herself to settle for claiming her master's bed instead.

⟡ Most of her clothing is made of her flesh.

⟡ Calico is not completely emotionless she can make other facial expressions, a small smile is just her default / resting face. 

⟡ If Calico actually labeled her identity, she would be an aromantic, pansexual, trans woman. but she doesn’t feel the need to label it, so you would never catch her calling herself these things.

⟡ Calico doesn’t really see people as, well.. people. So this is how she view the main four !!

Integra ((But Calico personally calls her ‘my master’))- Calico actually respects her authority and probably the only persons boundaries she would take into consideration. Also silly British hehehehe.

Alucard - Calico sees him as some vampiric Manwhore. But they’re civil with each other, they like to have conversations and even sometimes play chess together.

Seras ((but Calico insist on calling her by her last name, Victoria.)) - ah she absolutely adore her, Calico would have her attend with her hobbies if available. Calico treats Seras as like she’s a new puppy for her. So in case you haven’t noticed she’s obviously the favorite.

Walter - twink.

((that’s all for now!! this may have some edits since I’m never satisfied with any writing I do, and I will be making a part two lololololo.))

((Did I choose this silly cat video in particular because it’s a Calico? Yes, yes I did exactly that.))