#it would be 34 with my self inserts

[leviiackrman]

Of my 29 OCs… I have 1 left to draw…

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:34 A.M 」

18+ suggestive content! cw. fingering, bindfold play, squirting, p in v. sorry for being mia :') a lot happened during my trip so... a little filth as i hop into my vacation :D courtesy of blindfold and thirst nonnies in my askbox~

a part of gojo's love entries

“it’s... dark.”

“heh. of course, wifey~”

“and i’m cold...”

satoru’s plush lips curved into a sly smirk at your whine. you were undisputedly the most adorable thing he had ever laid his honored eyes on.

because now, under him, you— so pliant and so pretty in your nakedness glory, with both your hands tied and eyes covered by his blindfold, you were his to feast on.

“don't worry, sweets. you’ll get warm soon~ i’ll help you, yeah?”

“…why did i agree to this in the first place?” you wanted to curse your afternoon self for complying to this just because you couldn't bear to see satoru’s glassy eyes. he had just come back from an intercity mission, rambling about how much he missed you during the three weeks he was away, and insisted that he deserved his reward—tying you up with his many blindfolds.

“heh, you won’t regret it, i promise.” you couldn't see your husband's face, but you could sense his gaze on you, predatory like a lion eying a small cat.

and yeah, of course you were that small cat... about to accept its fate.

“first thing first... let’s start with this...”

he took a hold of your bound wrists pinned them above your head, causing you to arch your back. and damn, this position somehow made your heart thump faster. you started to feel hot too. deprived from your eyesight, your other senses heightened, which meant each touch satoru landed on you would, well...

he traced your body, from your nipples, down to your stomach, and over your hips. his touches were so featherlight, they almost tickled you, but then—

“ahh—!” you gasped when he put his nimble finger into your pussy so suddenly without warning. your breath caught when he pushed that one finger deeper, and then, against your will, you moaned unabashedly.

“look at you,” he chuckled darkly. “my precious little wifey... so freaking cute. just feel, yeah? it’ll feel good soon. you know it already.”

he pulled his finger in and out painfully slowly, and it made you squirm. “w-why so... slow?” you blurted amidst pants, feeling each stroke of his index finger being engulfed by your walls more vividly than you expected.

“oh? you want it fast? i thought i was being considerate to prepare you first, sweets~”

and again, without warning—or because you couldn’t see him at all—suddenly he picked up the pace, causing your jaw to drop. it was overwhelming— so much that your body spasmed and you screamed out his name, “ah... ah! ngh! satoruuu!”

you were so beautiful, like this. satoru felt himself hard already seeing the sheer bare beauty of your body, how wet you'd become, and how helpless you were under him.

and as if mesmerized, he almost didn’t catch himself inserting another finger and scissoring you almost immediately afterwards, making you squeal.

“o-oh god—!” you writhed pitifully, straining your body. your legs shook at the immense stimulation your husband imposed on you. with your vision taken away, everything felt so intense. you moaned out his name again in a flurry when he hit that one spot inside you.

“t-there!” you heaved a breath. “right there—! oh, satoru, you—!”

and then, right then, a pressing urge to—you didn’t know what—drove you almost to tears, and you felt it—

“shit, are you—” satoru widened his eyes as soon as he felt your wetness drenching his entire hand in one spray.

you’re squirting. “damn, blindfolds sure work wonders, huh.” he licked his fingers clean, very satisfied by how things were coming along.

“ah... hah, mmnh...!” your voice sounded more like a sob. you couldn’t believe this. all of that... just because of his fingers? the darkness must’ve driven you mad.

you were most sensitive right after an orgasm, and it felt like it was doubled by your lack of sight. you were still shaking from the aftershock of it and as if to soothe you, satoru peppered kisses on your entire body—which turned into sucking you and leaving his mark.

“you know… you look good covered by my hickeys too.”

his lips was everywhere—your neck, above your breasts, your left nipple, your stomach. you could only squirm helplessly at the heightened feeling. and true to his words, your body soon was littered with his little marks.

you could only pant and moan when he finally inched his hardened member inside you. the way your walls took him inside made a tear slip past your covered eyes—hells, he grew this hard by just watching you bound and blindfolded?

and for the next half an hour, you changed positions—you were now riding him. your bound wrists were now wound tight around his neck, and your legs locked against his waist snugly. through the haze of darkness, you blindly bounced on him.

it took you no time for the coil in your stomach to burn again.

“you’re doing so well—hgn—” satoru groaned and latched his mouth on your chest again, both hands securing your waist. “damn, i’m close—!”

and you felt him do. suddenly the familiar feeling of his hot cum filling you was the only thing you could feel. you were a mess of incoherent moans as he creampied you, trembling as you leaned on him.

you were almost there too. you wanted to cry at the over-sensitivity of all this was— and you didn’t know if you were imagining things or not but your belly felt like it was bulging too just because he had filled you up.

“satoruuuu—!” your moans were the loudest yet as you burst, and you could swear you blacked out due to sheer exhaustion as the next thing you knew, you could see him and your husband gathered you into his arms.

“hey, you okay?” he wiped your tears, a frown on his face. “too much?”

you slumped in his hold, your head lolling to his chest. “mmhm...”

. . .

“i can’t believe you passed out just after two rounds,” satoru giggled as he combed through your hair. “usually you last more than that.”

you huffed. “you’re the meanest of the mean.”

“no? i granted your wish. you told me to touch you there and i did~”

truthfully, you felt so exhausted afterwards. it felt like all your energy was sapped away.

“well, and i get to see you sleeping like a little kitten now. it’s a good deal.” he bopped his nose with yours, before squeezing your smaller frame against his. “my cute wife is fragile. i have to go easy on her~”

you pouted and buried your face deeper in his chest. lord, yeah, you admitted that your lovemaking earlier was possibly one of the best. the feeling of his skilled fingers on you… you sighed. if you were a cat, you would be purring already at the sheer thought.

perhaps sensing that you were thinking back to earlier session, satoru suddenly hummed.

“well, how about we try tying me up next~?”

[heraldofcrow]

Honest “Favorite Character” Asks 🌿

I can’t find character asks that suit my type of discussion, so I made some. These are meant to be somewhat personal, therapeutic, and pensive.

Send someone one of their favorite characters along with any of the following questions.

—

1. Do you project onto this character?

2. Did you always like this character?

3. What first drew you to this character?

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Hey I love your work so much!!

I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶

Sure, but it's gonna hurt!

Blue Sunrise

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.

Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

6:34 A.M.

The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.

But I don't. And I won't.

Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.

There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.

The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.

When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.

Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.

The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.

But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.

He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.

I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.

The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.

"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.

I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.

He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.

"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."

Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?

Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.

"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."

I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.

His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.

"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."

Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.

"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.

"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.

"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."

Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."

Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.

"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."

And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.

"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.

"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.

"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"

"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."

I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.

I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.

"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.

"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."

But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.

'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'

But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.

Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.

I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.

Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.

I don't want to be treated like this anymore.

"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.

Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.

'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.

"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"

Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.

"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"

"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."

Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?

"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.

"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?

"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.

"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.

"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.

"You didn't... call out or anything?"

My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.

"Just asking," he says quickly.

"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.

'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'

"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"

"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.

"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."

The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.

"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."

'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'

"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.

"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."

It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?

Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?

"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."

I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?

"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."

Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.

"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?

"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."

"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.

"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"

He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.

"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.

"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.

"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."

Fuck. Ooooooff!

This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.

"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."

"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.

"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."

But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.

"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.

"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."

He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."

He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.

"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.

"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."

"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.

"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"

No. Go away, let me rot.

"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"

Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.

Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.

"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.

Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.

I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.

"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."

"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.

"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.

There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.

But it'll all be okay.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[delulu-with-wandanat]

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

[cosmerelists]

What The Radiant Orders Would See as their Fandom Job on the Internet

Orders on the internet requested by @justheretoreadnotwrite :) 

Justheretoreadnotwrite pointed me to this very fun 17th Shard thread, and asked if I could do a riff on the Radiant Orders being on the internet. Since I wanted to try avoiding the jokes already there, I thought I would focus in on how they'd act in fandom on the internet. Specifically, what would each Order think is their Duty in Fandom?

1. Edgedancers: Finding & Leaving Comments for Zero-Kudo Fics

The Edgedancers make it their mission to listen to those who are forgotten--in this case, fics with no kudos, no comments, or no notes. The Edgedancers come to read them, like them, and comment on them!

2.  Lightweavers: Posting Fanart & Engaging in Character RP chats

You want your favorite character or OC to have art drawn of them? Just ask your nearest Lightweaver! Or, if you just wish you could roleplay with your favorite character, the Lightweavers can do that too. They are, like, VERY good at pretending to be other characters.

3. Bondsmiths: Writing Alt-Text

The Bondsmiths want to make sure that fandom is accessible to all, so they're out there writing descriptions and alt-text for any fanart or tweets or other images that screenreaders might struggle over. Barriers of communication are no match for our friendly Bondsmiths.

4. Truthwatchers: Writing Call-Out Posts

If someone is out there stealing art and posting it on their own blog/twitter/pinterest page as if it's their own....well, they better hope a Truthwatcher doesn't find them. Those Truthwatchers will be telling the original artist, and they may just write a call-out post if they have to.

5.Elsecallers: Writing, just, Really Excellent Analyses and Guides

The Elsecallers are the scholars of fandom. They are writing really in-depth analyses of both the original source and of your fanfic, and they're here posting guides about how to accurately portray, like, dyeing practices of x-century. 

6. Willshapers: Writing Character x Reader Fics and Creating OCs

The Willshapers are out there putting themselves into fandom worlds--and helping you do the same. They're great at creating their own OCs and/or self-inserts, and they're the ones writing all of the Character x Reader fics as well.

7. Stonewards: Writing the Majority of the Actual Fanfic

In terms of sheer output--like keeping the fandom running by doing the hard work of actually writing fics--the Stonewards are leading the way. If there's such a thing as the "front lines" of fandom, I think it's people filling A03 and creating longform content.

8. Windrunners: Forum/Discord Moderation

The Windrunners want to make sure that fandom spaces are protected & safe for their members, so they're likely to take on the role of administrators or moderators--kinda like, you know, being the king's guard but here the the "king" is 19 people who all want to talk about the same character.

9. Dustbringers: Being the Most Popular Person in the Fandom

The Dustbringers are the "great power / great responsibility" order. They know they could level that city or dissolve that person into atoms or whatever, but they have more restraint that that. Probably. In the same way, Dustrbingers are The Person in their fandom. If they choose to retweet or reblog or boost your fic/art/analysis, you are made, my friend. On the other hand, if they decide you're an enemy...

10. Skybreakers: Following the Rules. The Internet Rules. 

Listen, the Skybreakers don't judge rules, they follow rules. So if a fandom on the internet has rules, the Skybreakers really have no choice to follow them. You know, like Rule 34 for example.

So yes, the Skybreakers are out there making sure there is porn of your favorite character. You're welcome.

[yanderes-for-everyone]

Title: Dreaming Freedom

Summary:

Jeongmin is a loner in high school being bullied by the Queen Bee, Juhyeon. The two were friends in elementary school before their friendship ended because of Juhyeon's demand that Jeongmin should only be friends with her. Juhyeon uses this "betrayal" to fuel the classmates' insults and isolate Jeongmin in misery. Jeongmin has only one way to escape, through lucid dreams. One day, a mysterious man enters her dreams and offers to help her get revenge on Juhyeon... (webtoon)

Status: Ongoing

My Feelings About It: (SPOILER FREE)

This is another classic...Siyun is a near perfect yandere. He doesn't really start showing signs until chapter 34 (there are currently 121 episodes), but once he does he's amazing. I found this series on webtoon and literally I would always be there right at 9 with coins in hand to buy the latest episode.

I think my favorite part of this manhwa is the development of Siyun's obsession. It feels like he has a good reason to be infatuated with the fl. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I'm totally okay with just seeing obsession without any real build up, but I've found that I'm usually more satisfied when there is. Both the fl and ml are completely isolated and grow to greatly depend on one another; and we get to see that development.

The first 34 episodes of the manhwa establish who the fl is and what she's been through, who the antagonists/allies are, how lucid dreaming works, and give us glimpses of our ml to create an air of mystery. Then, having all of that information, we can truly appreciate why the fl and ml start to connect. From that point on, we see Siyun's attachment to the fl increase; the more he's around her the more he needs her. And as his affection grows, so does his fear of losing her, which causes yandere shenanigans to ensue.

I think this is another manhwa where I think the fl is well written. She is multi-dimensional and isn't just a self insert (though those have their place too.) And lastly, I want to mention that Juhyeon (the "Queen Bee") is also yandere-ish. She's definitely no where as unhinged as the ml, but you still get two yanderes in one.

Overall, it's one of my favorite yandere manhwa and I would definitely recommend checking it out.

Manhwa Rating: 9/10

Yandere Rating: 8/10*

*this means the ml's yandere intensity

[fireflameproductions]

NOTE: THESE DESIGNS ARE OUTDATED I WILL REMAKE THEM SOON

Here’s my official lineup for the HIT era steam team! I’m super pleased with my designs for all of them and I think that they fit their personalities well! I have updated some things since then (this drawing is from July) but everything is still pretty much the same up till now.

They are a unique species that look human but share engine traits (grey skin, higher demand for water, and enhanced strength and speed). They all work as conductors and general workers on the railway.

My AU also takes place in the mid 1960s so technology is very limited and is still very old fashioned.

Headcanons and close ups below!

💙Thomas Billinton💙

Voice headcanon: Eddie Glen

Physical age: 33

Mental age: 20

- Despite being the ‘leader’ of The steam team he lacks in leadership skills. Unless the task is extremely important

- He is kind but can be mischievous and slightly rude when he wants

- He is pan and is currently dating Emily

- Despite his previous mistakes and wrong doings he tries his best to better himself and to not let others bring him down

- If there he candy around it will be gone in less than 30 seconds

- Annie and Clarabel are his closest friends and would kill if something bad happened to them

- Likes to bully the older members as he finds it funny (Gordon especially)

💙Edward Pettigrew💙

Voice headcanon: William Hope

Physical age: 65

Mental age: 47

- The father figure of the group, everyone looks up to him since he’s one of the oldest engines

- The sweetest member on the team (probably the sweetest on the island let’s be real)

- The best guy to go to for support and advice. He’ll try his best to help everyone

- Rarely ever gets upset, when he does you know you’ve messed up

- Due to his age he gets tired more easily. And has trouble working long, hard days

- He is currently questioning his sexuality

- Absolutely loves calm days on the railway, it gives him a chance to slow down and relax.

- Despite being pushed down by the younger members, he doesn’t let that bother him and continues to do his best

- Loves hugs, gives them out for free (go give him one he deserves it)

💚Henry Stanier💚

Voice headcanon: Keith Wickham

Physical age: 39

Mental age: 34

- Is usually kindhearted but can be rude if you grind his gears

- Absolutely loves nature, he keeps a ton of houseplants in his room

- He is bi

- Has trauma from The Flying Kipper accident, he has a lot of scars from the crash

- Is a sucker for cuddles (will get flustered if you hug him)

- Has frequent anxiety due to past accidents. He doesn’t want to go through that much fear again

- He loves napping under trees (he has a favourite one in his forest)

- Hopes one day he could pull the express full time (despite Gordon’s pleas)

💙Gordon Gresley💙

Voice headcanon: Kerry Shale

Physical age: 43

Mental age: 41

- Is one of the tallest and strongest workers on the island. He always thinks that he’s the best (and he is ofc)

- Despite his pompous and harsh exterior he is good hearted and wouldn’t hesitate to help others in need

- He is bi demiromantic and is currently dating Jessica (my self insert Oc)

- Has a massive fear of heights after the events of ‘A better view for Gordon’ and he hates it when people find out

- Avoids showing any form of weakness or vulnerability due to his reputation. He doesn’t want to look soft as he fears it will ruin him

- Enjoys a nice black tea at any time of the day

- Wouldn’t trade his job of pulling the express for anything. He absolutely loves it. And he hates doing any other jobs (especially if it’s dirty work)

- Despite getting teased by Thomas often he’s happy with his alliance with him, whenever he needs help he will come to his aid.

- Wouldn’t say it out loud but he would definitely cry if something happened to the ones that he cares about.

- He fears no one except for Diesel 10. He quivers in fear in his presence

❤️James Hughes❤️

Voice headcanon: Rob Rackstraw

Physical age: 32

Mental age: 28

- MASSIVE show off, will take any opportunity to show the world who he is

- He’s gay and has a crush on Edward

- Definitely has the biggest wardrobe of the group. He loves fashion and will wear makeup when he wants to

- Isn’t afraid to start beef with someone. He is full of drama and comebacks

- Sometimes, especially after an accident he feels insecure about his self image. And feels like he’s not good enough. He absolutely hates this

- Would definitely throw a tantrum if he doesn’t get what he wants

- Always wants to look perfect, he wants to impress everyone

💚Percy Stothert💚

Voice headcanon: Nigel Pilkington

Physical age: 27

Mental age: 19

- The youngest in the the group, he’s just a little child!

- Is way too pure for this world. He brightens up any room that he enters

- LOVES any job involving the mail. He takes pride in it and is always super proud of himself when he gets the job done

- He is ace

- He is very optimistic and always has a positive outlook on life. He’s also very supportive and wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand!

- He loves animals! And usually tags along with Henry when walking in the woods

- He’s very curious and wants to learn as much as he can

- He gets scared very easily, others take advantage of this and try to scare him. Though he tries his best to be brave!

🤎Toby Holden🤎

Voice headcanon: Ben Small

Physical age: 53

Mental age: 51

- A kind and wise old man. On par with Edward on being a great source of advice

- Loves to take things slow and enjoy the littlest moments in life. You’ll never see him being in a rush

- He is straight and is married to Henrietta

- He has a massive fear of water after multiple incidents. And gets very upset when people tease him about it

- Despite being one of the smallest members of the group he has a massive heart. A great source of support

- Likes to participate in the younger members’ tricks on occasion. It gives him a good laugh

- Due to his calm nature, whenever he is stressed he often overacts as he’s not the best with dealing with anxiety

- He loves to wind down by sitting in his chair with a hot tea and with his wife close at the end of the day

💚Emily Sterling💚

Voice headcanon: Teresa Gallagher

Physical age: 72

Mental age: 35

- Surprisingly the oldest in the group. Although she doesn’t get teased about it as much as Edward

- Loves telling stories about her work experiences in Scotland. Feel free to lend a ear and she’ll tell you one!

- She’s usually very kind but she can be bossy when she’s grumpy

- She acts as the bigger sister to the group, especially the younger members. She will do anything to help them if they were in danger

- Loves a good old fashioned tea party. It’s one of her favourite activities

- She is straight and is dating Thomas

- She enjoys a good book. Takes frequent trips to the library. It’s her favourite way to wind down after a busy day

- Like Edward she gets tired easily and has trouble working long days

- She is the queen of girl outings, and is always ready to plan a get together

Whew that was a lot of typing, if you’ve made it this far, thank you. And have a good day ^^

[emocl0wnpp]

Part 3 of introducing my creepypasta ocs: Wicked Vicky

(SMALL NOTE IF YOU HATE "CRINGE MARY SUE OCS" SHUT UP)

(Also some old art again cuz i used to draw Vicky a LOT)

(Again i forgot Vicky's actual name sooo)

♤Basic info♤

Name: Wicked Vicky

Age: would be 34 now if that says something-

Birthday: 1990/08/26

Nationality: german

Gender: yesn't (biologically female)

Pronouns: any,Vicky doesn't care at all (i use they/them for simplicity)

Sexuality: pansexual

Height: 160cm/5'2

Personality: literally Discord from MLP, chaotic,hyper,literally batshit insane, manipulative, two faced,aggressive,hella smart but acts dumb and naive to trick people, again Vicky is literally Discord from MLP-

Stuff i can't categorize(so basically backstory elements)

Religious trauma.

Both parents were german

Hyper Christian mom and alcoholic dad = whatever Vicky is(nothing against religious people btw don't take it the wrong way😭)

Got locked into a basement from 6 years old until 12

Accidentally summonned a demon(a whole ass goddes)

Made a deal with said demonic goddess and got posessed (that's why their eyes are like that...and why they have black goop coming from their mouth)

Ran away from home at 12 and haven't looked back since

Somehow Jason(the toymaker) stumbled upon little Vicky,and him being him,thinking they wouldn't last around him for long,took them home

Worst mistake Vicky still didn't try to leave-

Jason is like their father figure and Vicky loves and adores him<3

Somehow they and Candy(Pop) ended up together (YES ANOTHER OC X CANON THINGY FIGHT ME)

(Now) best friends with Claws,Alma and Jade(i haven't introduced her yet,she'll be next)

Claws is actually terrified of Vicky (lol)

Alma thinks Vicky cool as hell tho

Jade is like their mother figure

Back to the being posessed thing,Vicky is still working for that demon

Fun facts!!

Like I mentioned, Discord from MLP

With that said,Vicky has the ability to control time,they can stop the time for up to a minute...which is more than enough for Vicky to cause havoc,though they rarely use their powers anymore

Able to bend and stretch in cartoony ways

Their hat has a little dimension in it with lots of clocks and mirrors(they're used to watch over different universes)

Their hammer is H E A V Y,like over 5 tons

Vicky is sort of a demigod,so they have huge strenght

And they're also buff(but still chubby cuz <333)

Would fistfight god

Did fistfight a god before

Poor Vicky never really learned how to read or write,but they're still able do both..just a bit slowly

Absolutely devoted to any person they love,would and will kill anyone for their friends and family

Has the thickest german accent imagineable

Had to be stitched together because of accidents

No sense of danger at all,not like they can die anyway

Even if Claws is terrified of them,they still look up to her a lot,Vicky sees her as a cool aunt

Now Alma is the cool older sibling they can drag into crazy shit

ICP fan (me too Vicky me too)

Used to be my self insert in 2019😭💀

Somehow managed to have triplets with Candy (he was proud of himself for that)

Not the best parent but still managed to give their kids an amazing childhood<3

Closing it with something less wholesome,Vicky ate mice before (said it tasted like cow meat((never tasted cow meat before)) )

The dimension in their hat

(Old aahh drawing💀)

And a playlist

And this template thing

[theeyoungalabastor]

Fuck you, I'm Chaotic: A Creepypasta Friend scenario book,

Description:

•°• Fuck you, I'm Chaotic: A Creepypasta, reader insert friend scenarios BOOK•°• (NOT ROMANCE RELATED) [A bit of a crack fic, because I oddly enjoy writing characters with very chaotic energy.)

With blood dried knees, and band aid clad fingers; light sabers glowed in a memorable vibrance the dead of an ale'd night, sprinting past streetlights, laughter bellowing as they chased one another; shouting theatrical quotes as they dueled energetically through the streets of their home.

Tossing a wand of light in the direction of an unexpecting stranger, the teen's crouch, lips pulled into malicious grins, not one's that would set one on edge, but rather ones that bring a longing warmth to bloom in the core of your chest, something familiar.

Fun.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

this book will and or may contain the following mentions:

homophobia, transphobia, anxiety, panic attacks, gender dysphoria, body/facial/vocal/height dysmorphia, misgendering, deadnaming, insomnia, foul Language, dark humor, possible verbal abuse, angst, suicide, suicidal thoughts, possible self-harm, talk of mental disorders, physical aggression, murder, blood, descriptive gore, dark themes, body disfigurement and mutilation, manipulation of multiple degrees.

Please, if you are sensitive to any of these triggers, please do NOT read this book, there will NOT be warnings above the chapters. Again, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Also, before my throat is ripped from my body: I know that Masky/Tim and Brian/Hoodie are NOT a part of the slender verse, but it feels wrong not to add them. (And I have seen MH <3)

______

Characters:

"Ticci" Toby

Age: 19

Reader age: 17

______

Tim/Masky

Age: 34

Reader age: 18

______

Brian/Hoody

Age: 28

Reader age: 19

______

Cody/ X-Virus

Age: 16

Reader age: 18

______

Jeff The Killer

Age: 27

Reader age: 17

______

Natallie/ Clockwork

Age: 26

Reader age: 18

______

Ben Drowned

Age: 14 at age of death

Reader age: 17

______

Eyeless Jack

Age: 19 when sacrificed and possessed. 26 when meeting him

Reader age: 16

______

Sally Williams

Age: 7 at age of death

Reader age: 17

Reader's personality: 

MC (Your personality varies within each character's story line, in one you could be socially awkward with no sense of speaking up for yourself to laughing at threats against your life and seeming desensitized to some or most concerning things. Your story line also varies, the stories of your childhood or living quarters could stretch from being the victim of sibling favoritism, bullied in school, a spoiled brat who gets everything they want but is neglected attention wise, to a shitty flat or apartment that has a shit tone of flaws, but you don't have enough money to pay it off.)

Gender Identity may lean more towards the masculine side, MC's gender in here isn't specified but the pronouns mainly used are They/Them when you as the reader eventually if ever get a partner, just know sexuality is never really mentioned either, but you are under the Pan and Bisexual umbrella. 

[heather1815]

Out of the 10 works in your "Man, let's talk soon" series, if they were to be pinned to a timeline, what order would they go in? (Also, I just finished MLTS, and I just have to say OMFG IT IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, I can't recall another a story, whether it be a fanfic or a book that I have loved this much. Great job and keep up the excellent work <3)

Thank you so much! <3 I am glad you enjoyed it!

Let’s see… Requiem is a prequel, it follows the main four as they grow up before the events of the show. Then next is Worthy, which takes place directly after The End. Then My little test subject. We have a couple of works in between; Old Habits Die Hard takes place between chapters 31 and 32 of MLTS, it’s just a little bonus scene I wanted to write and couldn’t quite find a way to insert it into the main story so it’s just kinda there. Take a Bite Out of My Heart Tonight is smut, and is the continuation of the scene that plays out in chapter 34. If you don’t like smut then i suggest skipping it altogether. Pet Store Challenge happens somewhere after chapter 28, but it’s not canon - it’s just a fun little one-shot that i did out of self indulgence lol

Afterwards, when My little test subject ends we have Rise of the Rebellion, Taste Test Royalle (another self indulgent fic but canon this time) and finally we have The Engagement before following to the next and current story of Always Gold, which takes place five years after the events of My little test subject

[diapergoonerii]

Diaper Gooner Edging Challenge

Long time Tumblr lurker, first time trying one of these! I’ve got about 12 hours on Sunday, April 7th, from when I’ve got my house to myself to when I really would need to try to go to bed for work (irl some important stuff is going down, so I do eventually need to clear my head). This post will stay active all the way until 12:00 AM, April 8th. I really want to be my best gooner self to celebrate the week off of work I’m finishing!

I’ve always liked diapers, since my childhood. I’ve had a tumblr since 2013 and lately I’ve really been exploring all sorts of kinks through my blogs! I really want to be reduced to a desperate, caged, gagged, and plugged diaper slut! Please help me live out my most embarrassing fantasies!

For every like, reblog, and comment on this post, I’ll become a bigger diaper gooner! I’ll add diapers, boosters, pacifiers, embarassing clothes, chastity, gags, toys, etc and so forth! Help determine how I’ll be having cummies at the end! I’ll share more content as this gets more traction too!

Please share this, I’m sure it can only go wrong for me!

5 Likes = 1 Edge

1 Reblog = 1 Edge

2 Comments = 1 Edge (no spamming)

Edge Count and Tasks

✅ 1) Drink 12 oz of water per hour for the rest of the day! No holding my pee unless instructed!

✅ 2) Spank each ass cheek 5 times before I edge

✅ 3) Suck on my paci for this edge

✅ 4) No more pants! No diaper coverings that go past my knees!

✅ 5) Insert my small plug before this edge for 5 edges

☑️ 6) Add a booster

☑️ 7) Hold my pee for 15 minutes

☑️ 8) Suck on my paci for this edge

☑️ 9) Spank each ass cheek 5 times before I edge

☑️ 10) Wear my chasitiy cage for the next 2 hours

☑️ 11) Only watch cartoons or porn the rest of the day

☑️ 12) No full sized hoodies! Cropped ones are ok!

☑️ 13) Go outside in whatever clothes I’m wearing and share a picture

☑️ 14) Wear my chastity cage for the next hour

☑️ 15) Post a picture of myself every ten edges from now on, wherever I am!

☑️ 16) Cut holes, add a thin diaper

☑️ 17) Stop, Drop, and Potty - no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this! Share a pic

☑️ 18) Pull down my diaper and spank my balls 5 times

☑️ 19) Suck on my paci for this edge

☑️ 20) Put on tall sockies for the rest of the day

☑️ 21) Give myself an enema, hold as long as I can!

☑️ 22) Share most recent porn link

☑️ 23) Listen to gooner hypno for 5 edges

☑️ 24) Tug my nipples 5 times before I edge

☑️ 25) I’m a dumb baby who shouldn’t get to talk any more! Suck my paci for the rest of the day!

☑️ 26) Share an audio of myself edging

☑️ 27) Suck on my ball gag for 1 edge

☑️ 28) Double my water intake for 1 hour

☑️ 29) Take a picture of myself outside

☑️ 30) No boys’ shorts anymore

☑️ 31) Suck my big paci for the next 2 edges!

☑️ 32) Stop, Drop, and Edge - +1 edge, to be completed ASAP! no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this!

☑️ 33) Spank each ass cheek 5 times before I edge

☑️ 34) Suck on my big paci for the next 3 edges

☑️ 35) Tug my nipples 5 times before I edge

☑️ 36) Add 2 boosters

☑️ 37) Wear my ball gag for the next edge

☑️ 38) Only crop tops or onesies from here on out

☑️ 39) Listen to gooner hypno for 10 edges

☑️ 40) Wear my chastity cage for the next 4 hours

☑️ 41) Pull down my diaper and spank my balls 5 times

☑️ 42) Stop, Drop, and Potty - no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this! Share a video!

☑️ 43) Hold my pee for 30 minutes

☑️ 44) Add 2 boosters

☑️ 45) Share a video of this edge

☑️ 46) Pull on my nipples 10 times, hard

☑️ 47) Share most recent porn link

☑️ 48) Write a page of lines saying “I’m a porn addict, bully me!” and share it

☑️ 49) No more shorts, my diapies will be exposed from here on out!

☑️ 50) Quadruple my water intake for an hour

☑️ 51) Edge to a mean mistress joi video and share the link

☑️ 52) Be a bigger baby! Suck my big paci for the rest of the day!

☑️ 53) Cut holes, add a thick, boosted diaper

☑️ 54) Write naughty things about myself all over my diapers

☑️ 55) Put on my tutu for the rest of the day!

☑️ 56) Share a video of myself singing my ABC’s while edging

☑️ 57) Hold my pee for 30 minutes

☑️ 58) Change as many inner diapers as are wet, add a boosted thin and double boosted thick diaper! Share before, during, and after pics of my diaper change!

☑️ 59) Add a cloth diaper

☑️ 60) I don’t deserve erections, wear my chastity cage the rest of the day!

☑️ 61) Pull down my diaper and spank my balls 5 times

☑️ 62) Spank each ass cheek 5 times before I edge

☑️ 63) Pull down my diaper and spank my balls 5 times

☑️ 64) Draw a picture of a mommy domme pegging me as stick figures and share it

☑️ 65) Add another cloth diaper with a cloth boosters

☑️ 66) Use a wand for the next 5 edges

☑️ 67) Stop, Drop, and Edge - +1 edge, to be completed ASAP! no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this! Doesn’t count towards previous edging tasks.

☑️ 68) Hold my pee for 1 hour

☑️ 69) Pull down my diapers and spank myself until my ass and upper thighs are red! Share pictures before I get to do this edge!

☑️ 70) Fuck my dildo for 1 edge

☑️ 71) Stop, Drop, and Potty - no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this! Share a pic

☑️ 72) Share audio of me singing along to “Barbie Girl” while edging

☑️ 73) I’m too much of a pissy diaper slut, I need to wear all 4 of my cloth diapers and use all my cloth boosters for the rest of the day!

☑️ 74) Tug nipples 20 times before this edge

☑️ 75) Set up a half tent in my backyard and spend 1 hour gooning

☑️ 76) Insert my large plug for 10 edges

☑️ 77) Record myself reading one of my favorite tumblr captions and share it

☑️ 78) Share most recent porn link

☑️ 79) Write two pages of lines saying “I’m a diaper slut, will you please fuck my ass?” and share them

☑️ 80) Hold my pee for 1 hour

☑️ 81) Pull down my diaper and spank my balls 10 times

☑️ 82) Fuck my dildo for 2 edges

☑️ 83) Edge to denial joi porn and share the link

☑️ 84) Stop, Drop, and Edge - +1 edge, to be completed ASAP! no matter where/what I’m doing when I see this!

☑️ 85) Post a video of myself edging outside

☑️ 86) Fuck my dildo for 2 edges

☑️ 87) Quadruple my water intake for 1 hour

☑️ 88) Suck on my paci gag for 5 edges

☑️ 89) Fuck my dildo for 1 edge

☑️ 90) Fuck me, leave the big plug in and when I make cummies at the end of the day, I have to be fucking my dildo!

☑️ 91) Tug on my nipples while watching 5+ minutes of diaper porn

☑️ 92) Record and share an audio of myself begging you to fuck me and let me make cummies

☑️ 93) Gag on my dildo for 10 minutes

☑️ 94) Hump on my concrete carport and share a picture

☑️ 95) Hold my pee until I can’t anymore! Film a video of myself doing a potty dance and losing control when it happens

☑️ 96) Share an audio of me edging, thanking everyone for bullying me!

☑️ 97) Pull my diapers down and spank my ass until I cry!

☑️ 98) Pull my diapers down and spank my balls until I cry more!

☑️ 99) Suck on my ball gag for the rest of the day!

☑️ 100) Edge to some chastity porn and share the link

☑️ 101) I get to make cummies! I’ll film the whole thing!

Punishments

If I don’t/can’t complete all 100 edges on account of accidentally cumming, I’ll spank myself before bed for each edge I did or didn’t complete, which ever number is higher! I’ll put myself in huge diapers, chastity, gagged, and plugged until morning!

If I don’t/can’t complete all 100 edges because I run out of time, I have to sleep in whatever level of clothes and tasks I run out of time in! I’ll film myself apologizing for being a dumb lazy gooner baby who deserves to stay in diapers!

[rizahawkeye1380]

Crossing the Webs

Chapter 1 - The Other One Inside Me

If there's something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call? The Spider-Men?

“Date, September 3, 1984. Time, 4:34 PM Eastern Standard. Location, Columbia University. This is Dr. Egon Spengler performing the first documented experiment regarding the reaction of spider DNA affected by a dose of radiation with human DNA.”

He picks up the syringe, checking to make sure everything was in place; no air bubbles to be seen, the injection site was already sanitized, and the elastic band was tight enough that the vein was swelling just enough for the needle. “For the past few months, ten species of the Arachnida class were subjected to small doses of radiation. Of those ten species, five of them were exposed to a higher concentration of protonic energy, one of which is currently being used for today’s experiment. As I assumed, there are a lack of volunteers, so I will be self-experimenting with a 0.25-mL dose of Ummidia audouini ’s radioactive blood, half of the dose for the regular influenza vaccine. If I do not see a result by the two-week mark, I will attempt another test with the same condition with another 0.25-mL dose.” He slowly inserted the needle in, making sure that the blood was a darker red to indicate he had pierced the vein and loosened the elastic band a tad before gently pushing the plunger all the way. “The injection is complete and any further observations will be recorded in my notebook, thus concluding today’s recording.” He presses the stop button and disposes of the needle, wiping away the pulling spot of blood, and putting a swab of cotton over it and wrapping it tight with the ace bandage he had precut. After feeding the spiders and making sure they were safe and secured, Egon grabs his notebook and pens as he goes to another lab. He had been meaning to make a few adjustments to the PKE meter, hopefully calibrating it so that it would be able to pick up enough psychokinetic energy to detect any apparitions roaming around this world. It must have only been around half an hour when Egon started to feel a headache coming on; he tried to ignore it but the harder he tried, the more it came back harder than before. Had it only been a headache he could have soldiered on, but then he felt himself heating up…..a lot. He checked his temperature, 103°F, definitely a fever. 

As he started to head toward his shared dorm with Ray and Peter, he could feel his vision starting to blur and his clothes sticking to him because of how much he was sweating. He sat down for a moment to rest and recorded the signs and symptoms before stumbling his way onto the dorm room.

X

Ray yawned as he was cleaning up the table; Peter had gone out on a date so he had treated himself to some Chinese takeout and some television, but before he could turn it on he heard the door open. “Oh, hey Pete, how was your-?” Ray stood up straight at the sight of Egon looking feverish and sluggish. It even looked like he was sweating excessively through his clothes. “Holy shit!” Ray put a hand on Egon’s forehead and violently jerked it back. “You’re burning up a lot. Did you catch some bug in the lab?” The fact that Egon didn’t respond at all was alarming to him, he just seemed to be looking pass him. “I’ll heat up some soup. We should have some medicine to help your fever, do you need help getting changed?”

It seemed that was what seemed to snap Egon out of his stupor. “Yes….” Shit, his voice sounded like sandpaper. “Ok, don’t talk too much, can’t have you straining your throat anymore.” Egon headed to his room and carefully removed his clothing and folded them neatly on his bed. Next to his bed, a full-length mirror was mounted and while Egon rarely ever used it, the moment he laid his eyes on it, he froze. 

The first thing he noted was that there was…something that was growing in his inner forearms, and another thing beginning to form over his serratus posterior muscles. 

The second thing was how much more gaunt he was, how his ribs became so much more obvious even from a distance. 

The third and most concerning thing he noticed was how…hungry he was. Well, it wasn’t much hunger as it was that he was starving for something soft? Yes, but also smooth. Then he landed on the word; liquified. Spiders liquify their prey before consuming them…

He put on his pajamas, notably the long-sleeved ones, although it did little to hide his thin frame, and wobbled to the kitchen table where a piping hot bowl of chicken noodle was placed in front of him. He skipped the spoon and just slurped the whole thing from the bowl, coughing a bit as some of the soup went down the wrong windpipe. “Geez Egie, slow down a bit,” He stopped at the edge of the table with the two tablets for Egon’s fever, “....you didn’t eat lunch I guess?” Ray asked as he held them out for him.

He then watched as Egon silently nodded and swallowed the medicine dry before going back to his room to try to get some semblance of sleep. 

Hopefully, Egie gets well soon, never saw him this sick since that time he stayed up in the lab for three days straight…..

X

Running…that was the last thing Egon remembered doing before he woke up with a start. He looked around, he was still in his room, but it was clearly night. He looked at the clock next to him, 3:24 AM.

The medication must have knocked me out…

While he tried to go back to sleep, he couldn't stop thinking about running…but what was he running from…? He couldn't remember…or maybe he didn't want to remember…

He stared at the ceiling for a while, contemplating. Maybe the injection gave hallucinations and whatever thing was growing in his arms was just something his brain conjured up. Except… Except when he ran his fingers along his forearm it was still there, squishy like a blister, minus the searing pain he was familiar with, but then......he felt it.

He felt his flexors, pronator, and palmaris muscles shifting beneath his skin, making room for whatever that...thing was...but it didn't stop there...

The next thing that happened felt as if something was ripping under the serratus posterior muscles, yet Egon didn't feel like he was bleeding.

With each stretch, he swore he could hear his muscle fibers tearing and repairing itself as they tried to make more room.

Now suddenly everything was blurry, too blurry!

Egon wanted to scream for help but it felt like his voice was stolen away as his cheeks stretched more than humanly possible to accommodate for new protrusions that he knew were coming out from the sides of his mouth.

He laid there, tears slowly falling down his face, helpless as he faced the horrors that were flowing in his blood.

[your-local-uwu-artist]

HAIIII how about 1, 11, 26, and 34 for the OC ask game :3

alola >:D

1.Have you ever picked up a habit from developing/writing one of your own characters? And if so, who and what?

i don't think so actually. generally I give my habits (and habits from friends and family and other irl people) to ocs instead. I have picked up some odd habits from drawing and cartoons in general though, especially anime. mostly cause my brain can't exit artist mode and i'm constantly thinking about how i would draw stuff, so it's like that 'making weird faces when your drawing an expression' but instead it's 'over exaggerates my every movement because i am thinking about how i would draw that movement'

11.Which character has been through the most design changes?

gosh! a lot of pokemelody characters have beeen through DRASTIC design changes but not like, the most. so probably my sona character! here's a sketch i did once showing the basic progression. during the redesign segments though there's a bunch of mini phases of drafts that didn't stick. they've been through a few different eras. I like to split it into three main eras! the primative era (defining traits are galaxy hair and high fantasy aesthetics) the Sailor era (this era had the most story as a self insert oc, defining design traits is a sailor-fuku outfit and pigtail buns.) the confused era (era where i rebooted my sona but was still figuring stuff out, this era's defining traits is a visible ribcage, and way too busy/unfocused of a design) And finally the modern era! (simpler and more focused design but has a couple other forms with the shape shifter aspect. notably while theres still some scrapbook/sewing aesthetics the entire body is now bjd/doll instead of being a confusing mix)

fun facts about the design/s

-sailor era design had no heterochromia and had my irl brown hair, because i was younger and cringe culture was still super prominent: specifically that part where every 'character design tips thing' would tell you to avoid stuff like heterochromia and fangs and cool colorful hair unless they god forbid look like a mary sue.

-i think i've said this before but a year or so after I added that front bangs super long back hair short thing (plus litterally had my hair cut to match) a popular/influential artist made a character with this trait and it suddenly became a more common design trait. obvi i'm not trying to 'gatekeep' the design or claim i'm the first guy EVER to come up with it. but i would be lying if i didn't say i feel 'ahead of my time' and think it's funny to joke about this super big artist that def doesn't know i exist having 'copied' me fndjask

-one main design shift is the shift from the angel aesthetic to adding in some demon aesthetics

-all throughout the confused era the angel wings changed color according to mood, the chart used was to inconsistent and complicated though so this trait ended up being lost.

-starting with the confused era and sitll present in modern era my sona is a shapeshifting shiny mimikyu :3 and the idea is that their humanoid form is like, lowkey hollow, so the mimikyu body is inside

-despite having more inhuman traits i'd actually say modern era sona takes more inspo from my irl appearance than any previous design

26.What's your favorite relationship/dynamic between a set of OCs?

afndsjkfna i can't choose because i love different dyanmics for different reasons fnsdjkaf. ummm heres some honorary mentions!

-Sunny and Daisy, they're dorks in love, nice simple and wholesome! good ol' healthy loving relationship! classic malewife x girlboss lowkey

-kazumi and fukusha have this thing where they hate each other's guts, it's fun!

-SCOTT N TIP i've only posted about them once and they're lowkey co-owned sorta? (i designed them on my own and then an irl friend of mine took a likeing to them and started writing short stories with them, we'd like to make a point and click game series called 'Dectective Cardimen Scott + Tip' with them someday :3) Scott and Tip's designs litterally came from a little excercize I did on designing duos. Scott's a private investigator and was looking for an assistant, the enthusiastic Tip took up the job! they have this cartoon-inspired dynamic where their relationship is vague and up for interpretation. They're business partners and roomates at the least :3

34.What scene that you've written/imagined is your favorite?

hmmmmmmmmm generally speaking i prefer the like inbetween anti-climatic slice of life-y scenes but theres this climatic/hyped-up scene in arc '1.5' of Pokemelody that I'm excited for in the theoretical future where i make this a thing. arc 1.5 is the start of a redemption arc for the final villain of arc 1, the plot is the villain searching for someone she did something unforgivable too with the goal of apologizing.

also scenes where the characters are finally happy and content and theres shojo sparkles to express this my beloved.

scenes i include a lot of because they're what i want to see more of is like, characters having weird inhuman-physical traits both as casual details that are dispersed throughout but also like, when it's directly addressed or played around with. I feel like everything only ever gives me little hints of that sorta stuff and fanfic focusing on it is hard to come bye so i guess i'll just have to do everything msyelf around here lmao.

[showmey0urfangs]

I read the books and I know how the story unfolds, but it bothers me a little that a lot of readers can't wait to brand Louis a liar and call into question the entirety of s1. They stress again and again that Claudia was manipulative and that she hated them both, but in the show she is older, she doesn't need Louis to stay alive and she was ready to leave on her own. She genuinely thought that Louis would be better off without Lestat. Even in the books (that were written as a complete retcon since Anne decided that Lestat was her self insert character) Lestat admitted that Claudia was completely justified for doing what she did and that he would have done the same. Oddly enough, for a lot of people the two black characters are manipulative liars who didn't listen to Lestat and so it's their fault if Claudia died horribly, while Lestat was the innocent one whose reputation has been tarnished by evil Louis. Unfortunately many white viewers can't see past that, but since the show has decided to deal with race issues, things are complicated and everything needs to be addressed differently. I hope s2 doesn't really end with Louis attempting suicide and Lestat appearing out of nowhere to save him. White savior trope at its finest.

Hi Nonnie. I agree that the characters in the show are quite different from their book counterparts and the story will unfold very differently as a result. So using the books as a surefire way to predict season 2 is misguided imo.

And as I was discussing in another post, it's not just Louis and Claudia who are different, it's Lestat too. He's no longer a naive 21-year-old vampire fledgling. He's now a fully grown 34-year-old man and a very powerful vampire with more than a century of experience under his belt. It would be weird for him to make the same misguided decisions he does in the books.

So again, expecting the show characters to behave exactly like their book counterparts makes no sense within the context of the story.

On the issue of race, I've spoken before about how happy—and frankly, surprised—I was with the way it was handled in season 1. But, I have since read and heard some things both from Rolin and the other main writer, Hannah Moscovitch (who I'm not a fan of, to say the least) that gave me pause and made me question some of their decisions.

I choose to stay hopeful that season 2 will continue to navigate these complex issues with deftness until proven otherwise but...the choice to have Lestat as the only white one out of the four main characters has so many implications and it can quickly veer into a disaster if not handled carefully. Especially if they follow Anne's route of retconning him into a Mary Sue extraordinaire while everyone else fades into the background.

And yeah, the optics of discrediting and vilifying the other characters (who just happen to all be POCs) in order to absolve Lestat of all wrongdoing would not be great. But at the same time, I DO want complex and morally grey POC characters because that's what good representation is. Making them all perfect little angels would be boring, patronizing, not to mention terrible writing.

I guess we will have to wait and see. I try not to get too caught up in speculating and theorizing because I would burn myself out and it would probably sour my enjoyment of season 2 once it comes out.

My advice is to carefully curate your timeline because chances are, the people chomping at the bit to see Louis and Claudia punished or Armand revealed as the sole villain are probably people you don't want to be interacting with anyway. So I suggest using your block button generously. 😊

[imagoddamnonionmason]

This is the self insert/OC fairy. 🌼🧚‍♀️When you get this in your ask box, please tell us 3 facts about your S/I or OC and pass it around. Let's learn about each other's S/Is/OCs! 🌈🌷

I'd love to learn more about your OCs! They all seem super interesting❤️

Hello mate! Thanks for the ask!!

Ok, so I do not know which oc to pick, so I shall give you all three lmao XD I hope you're ok with that!

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Jodie "Bell" Hall (BOCW OC)

After the events of the campaign, Jodie couldn't quite drop the English accent she'd gained from the hours of speaking with Park; however, depending on her state, her original Russian accent might slip through. For example, if she is very sleepy, the English accent slowly fades and she'll speak at you in a mild Russian accent. On the other hand, if someone angers her, it can slip through then, too. I based this off the fact that when I get angry, my northern accent breaks on through my usually not-so-northern accent; I thought that it would make some sense that her accent shifts or fluctuates as the English accent was never hers to begin with, it's just something she picked up from Park.

Her brother was four years younger than her, making her an older sister.

She carries a booklet of sudoku, crossword and other puzzles with her everywhere she goes. It occupies her mind and keeps the noise in her head down - she also finds that it reminds her of cryptography, which is something Canon Bell is said to be good at. It's a tattered book and sometimes she scribbles in the margins different encoding patterns and such. It's basically something to keep her mind from falling in on itself. I might be cheeky in admitting this, but that little snippet was actually inspired by another creator; a thought was sparked and then it turned into this idea that Jodie often keeps her skills sharp by occupying her brain with these kinds of things.

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Franca "Major" Lorenzetti (MW OC)

Her middle name is Viola.

2. She has a family that she no longer speaks with, due to differing opinions on her choice to join the army; her father was extremely traditional and essentially forbade her joining and wanted her to focus on finding someone, settling down and having a family. You know, old traditional views that were not made to suit her. Her family are as follows: Antonio, 60: Father. Alessandra, 55: Mother. Carlotta, 34: Sister. Vincenzo (otherwise known as Vinnie), 22: brother. Later on in her life, after she has joined the military and become well established, her brother turns up on her door having been 'banished' like she had, and they have a tearful reunion. She loves her brother a lot and would do anything for him. The rest of her family though? She doesn't really talk about them much and if you were to ask her about them, she'd probably just stare at you until you left her alone.

3. Franca joined the Royal Army Medical Corps, becoming a Combat Medic. She rose through the ranks to RSM/WO1 - Regimental Sergeant Major/Warrant Officer. This associated rank is where her nickname came from, 'Major'. I actually tried to make the rank as accurate as possible, as I think different regiments and military organisations call them different things.

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Nanette MacTavish (MW)

Her maiden name was 'Oakley'.

Her dad is from Cornwall and her mum from the Midlands, so she every so often she has a little bit of a Cornish accent. It's really cute but sounds like a farmer sometimes.

She works at the primary school on the army base that she lives at. She's a teaching assistant and takes care of the children like they were her own! Oh- and her own does go to the nursery at the primary school - she has wee little lass with her husband, Soap, and she adores the girl so much.

BONUS: I don't have many facts for Nanette in the MW world, because most of the work I've done with her came about when I was planning a fantasy medieval au for Franca and Ghost. sigh. I ended up making that au about her and Soap, her knight in shining armour-ish. Ok! That's all for the facts! I hope you enjoyed reading about them!! If you're curious about anything or want anything elaborating, just hmu! Goose out!