#ive been stumped on what to draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liveyourlastbreath · 2 years

Text

Neil Josten’s adventures in Exy as an (unwilling) Amputee

Okay so this is based on a drawing I did here

I may explore the idea of Andrew dealing with chronic pain later on, but right now I wanted to focus on the idea that at some point on the run, Nathan got too close and Neil lost his leg as a result. SO buhbuhbuh take it and run (Neil couldn’t do that for a while)

Also this is basically gonna be a retelling of AFTG, sticking very closly to the cannon events and dialogue with the difference of Neil missing his leg, just letting you all know!

Okay so how exactly did Neil ‘running is my only coping mechanism’ Josten loose his leg, from just below the knee, down?

his dad 100% chopped that thing off

Ive decided it happened roughly a month after they went on the run. Mary Janet Kim Laura Hatford Wesninski was still sloppy with a bleary-eyed ten-year old that still flinched when he fired a gun

Because somewhere between North Dakota and Saskatchewan, Nathan got close enough to be a problem. Huge problem actually, so huge that Nathanial Alex was now in Nathan’s hands and a note had been left with a time and a place

Now, I’m not defending Mary. She wasn’t a good person, she hurt Neil over and over again and shouldn’t really have been a mother in the first place. Like look me in the eyes and tell me she didn’t hesitate when she saw that note. Nathan logically would have already killed him and would just be waiting for Mary to come running and then would fall to his blades as well

But Nathan was smart because constant voicemails on a phone that should have been a burner had a confused and scared Neil asking for his mother

So she went, with some of her own people as backup (thanks Stuart)

And Nathan was there, with his cronies and slumped over the figure of what was supposed to be her son

Mary wasn’t a good person, she hurt neil and maybe shouldn’t have been a mother. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. Because as soon as she saw the bloody and strategically burned stump of what was supposed to be the growing leg of a child, she threw up

Needless to say they got away, barely.

Mary thinks a huge part of her son died that day

Because now Alex and Janet baker were a leg down and they both knew it

they ran faster, Alex learned to hate piggy backs

Stuart sent people to help, people Mary barely trusted, but people who helped Neil learn to stand and walk and run and hide on a barely held together scrap of metal that was supposed to be a leg.

Janet knew a part of her son died that day. Ten years old and his hands stopped shaking when he fired a gun, ice blue eyes were hidden behind green contacts sharped like his father’s.

She caught him staring at his leg more than once with a sick smile and beat it off of him.

Years later Neil Josten limped away from the sea on a cracked prosthetic and was determined to somehow keep going. His father’s stolen money and Stuarts contacts made it easy to get a leg, one that he could hide in public and run in the dark with.

And then the Foxes showed up

Because of course Neil still played, played better than any of Millport’s, played to his prosthetics advantages and disadvantages

Neil played like he had everything to lose because he had already lost part of that everything.

Now we get to the good stuff, what changes in the series now that Neil is an amputee?

There had never been someone in all of professional and college Exy that played on a prosthetic. You had to be completely put together because the game would tear you apart and leave your skin the only thing holding your bones together.

Wymack didn’t give a shit, and neither did Kevin it seemed

In fact, a fool could have even said Kevin was excited to see what Neil could do

Kevin had no idea who Neil was, the leg actually helped Neil in that regard

Also im making it cannon in this au when Andrew hits Neil with the racket, Neil hadn’t properly put his leg on in his panic so the thing goes one way and he goes another

Very funny image thank you very much

When Neil is figuring out the Andrew and Aaron switch, he uses the leg to his advantage. Because Nicky nor Aaron seem to know about it, and the shocked look on Aaron’s face later when he realizes Neil’s leg is in fact detachable prove his theory right.

Nicky is incredibly annoying about it, but luckily the black sock over the stump keeps any burn scars and questions at bay

Aaron does ask typical doctor questions out of morbid curiosity, all of which Neil ignores

That first practice, Neil opens his huge locker and freezes. Because amidst the sea of orange and white gear, a travel bag is folded with two, yeah, two, prosthetic legs

both are Transtibial, but while one has a simply pylon and foot, the other is a very expensive blade runner, with grips on the bottom to keep him from slipping and orange detailing that will help him match the team on court

Neil felt as though he may pass out, throw up, or punch Wymack in the face.

“Part of your contract, kid. We provide you with your equipment. All of it.” Wymack said after the pratice, after he ran laps and laps on his new leg and gave Kevin his game

When Neil blows his arms out against Andrew, Andrew stands on Neil’s leg as well as his racket because why not, its kinda bouncy

Now when the rest of the team comes back, that’s when things get good PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

#aftg #neil josten #Andrew MinyarD #tfc #Andreil #the foxes #the foxhole court #all for the game #all for the gay #exy #exy is sexy #david wymack #kevin day #butcher of baltimore #neil is an amputee #neil josten can and will throw his leg at you #amputee!neil

403 notes · View notes

littlestpetgoth · 8 months

Note

Do you think natural talent is required to be a great artist?

not at all, im sure that the rate of improvement will vary between people based on whatever it may be, but art is not a talent it’s a skill. like most skills its easier for some than it is for others, but i think if you can teach yourself to have a good mindset about learning and improving then anyone is capable of becoming a good artist.

i see a lot of people who feel stumped and frustrated that they aren’t learning or improving as quickly as other artist/ aren’t as good as artists that have been practicing for longer than them, but like working out it’s hard work and everyone’s experience is going to be different. some people have an easier time understanding shapes, colors, and volumes, those people will have an easier time understanding the. fundamentals ig! your process is never going to be the same as someone else’s so you shouldn’t compare your journey with theirs..

ive seen plenty of people create incredible things from all different kinds of backgrounds, ive seen an artist who is unable to draw with their hands so they’re forced to use their feet/mouth, their disability hasn’t stopped them because they don’t feel defeated to create..

sorry if it’s hard to understand what im saying im sure there’s a better way to word it, but if you’re ever feeling sad that you’re not where you wish you were on your art journey, just remember that as long as you don’t give up you will always improve. those improvements are slow and subtle but they are there, you just won’t notice it until you take the time to look back on your old work.

if you feel like you are stagnating, try doing studies, draw something out of your comfort zone, identify a part that you feel unsatisfied with and work on improving it.

im purely a hobbyist, so im not under any pressure to perfect the things i create for the art industry. i think its really important to prioritize your own enjoyment when creating art, because it should be fun! it should be fun to use your brain and to put out something that you felt in your creative organs.

it always breaks my heart to see people be so broken about their natural ability to create whatever their brain comes up with.. so i feel very passionately about enjoying the process..

i understand thst finding that patience is harder for people who rely on their art for money, so i have no advice for relieving that stress. unfortunately the art market is very over saturated (does not help with all of the ai art bs) and i wish you good luck..

uhh tldr i think that art, like most skills, is something that everyone learns at a different pace. one workout routine is not going to bring everyone the same results at the same time. everyone’s needs and experiences are going to be different . people need to accept that..

#ask #sorry for rambling #this topic makes me feel very .. idk passionate is the only word i can think of #good luck! i know its easier said than done #but if you are someone who feels beaten up by their current artistic skill.. please be nice to yourself…#you wont get a six pack overnight #you wont be a master artist overnight

26 notes · View notes

flowercrowns-n-punks · 6 months

Note

btw lark & sparrow as a little mushroom fellas btw. what is ur take

(u don't have to draw anything if you don't feel up to it :3)

NOW YOU ASK ABOUT THE FAMILY I AM SO OH SO WAY TO TALKING ABOUT???? [My irl friend tek has to deal with at least almost 4-6 times every day at this point i swearfrom how much i talk about the oaks]

Okay first off i do wanna do doodles ill reblog this with the doodles after or later in the day when ive gotten some sleep.[i need to consider my options here]

This will be long

But from what i think first off same mushroom type cause twins or two mushrooms that get mistaken for eachother easily.

I could easy n give them two very different mushrooms that fit them.

But no they are to codependant on eachother, their own paralells and oppsites are screaming i dont go the easy route here.

So the mushroom would need to be unexpecting but harmful if i were to give the same mushroom.

Which im leaning towards.

First idea

Fly agaric mushroom

The classic the pretty red & spotted mushroom. But like thats to classic, doesnt scream the twins to me.

Death cap mushrooms were the next option

small, green-tinted mushroom might look innocent enough, but it is actually the most toxic mushroom worldwide and is responsible for the highest number of fatal mushroom poisonings across the globe.

Seems beyter honestly if had went a different mushroom for each twin route Lark would been this.

BUT I FOUND THESE.

Funeral bell mushrooms or Galerina marginata!

Poisonous and deadly, these little mushrooms definitely live up to their ominous-sounding name. They grow on dead decaying wood or tree stumps.

And just idk why but the symbolism of funerals to me with the twins as if they had a funeral to the boys they were before the forgetten realms, a funeral to the kids that they were msde into because of the forgotten realms.

The funeral of time turning its next chapter on "reconciling" with henry when lark released tge doodler. So on so forth!

To now what they are now these mess of adults/parental figures broken and mournimg so much by the actions they both took.

And just from A art stand point

It fits nicely with their color schemes too-

But like Funeral Bell Mushrooms. Are what id def be doodling the twins as lil mushroom fellas

#dino rambles #dino stuff #dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndaddies #lark and sparrow #lark oak garcia #lark oak #sparrow oak #sparrow oak garcia #i only speak my mind #this rattles my brain!!!#id continue my ramble but id be here for 2 hours maybe on trying to explain myself in depth

16 notes · View notes

eyeofthechasm · 3 months

Text

Hi so

Ive got more writing ! More Renzo loop AU bc that’s all I’ve really got saved rn BUT. There’s Loop. Surprise

This ones from kinda a while ago & got retouched a little today so. Maybe not the greatest in the world? It’s pretty long too so get ready

Act 3(???) spoilers post the whole “say its name” thingy. And incredibly vague act 6 spoilers but like. Only if you squint really really hard.

You jolt in place, cough after cough ripping through your lungs.

You looped. You’re back; back in Dormont, back by the fences overlooking the surrounding forestry. You’re back, but you still feel it.

Your Country’s name mangled your throat. You can’t breathe. You’re struggling. Everything burns. Everything burns and you can’t b-

People are looking. They’re looking, staring, all at you. You’re making a scene, you’re drawing attention, stop it, stop stop stop stop stop s

You wave your hand, dismissing the concerns of the others, and hold the drink in your other hand up into view. The message delivers flawlessly. The onlookers relax. The eyes are off you.

Good.

…

Your throat burns. Your head hurts. Everything aches. You need to lie down, probably, but there’s no time.

You need to talk to Loop.

Once you recover a little, you very casually make your way over to the favor tree, careful to not draw any attention to yourself. Along the way, you catch sight of Siffrin sleeping in the field; peaceful, as if nothing had happened.

Good. You were sure he’d be fine, but…still.

You rush your interactions with Mira and Isabeau, despite their prying about your wellbeing. After all of that, you can’t get caught in a conversation with them without risking some slip-up.

Plus, your being is completely well. They don’t need to worry about anything.

It’s not like they’re gonna remember it, anyway.

———

You collapse on the tree stump. Loop’s already there. Their eyes are narrowed in…what is that, worry? Curiosity? Mockery, maybe? You can’t tell.

Silence stretches between you. It’s never been so quiet here. Loop isn’t even looking at you anymore, only the ground, like you. Thinking. Hard.

….

It kinda reminds you of-

“So,” they pick their head up. You jump at the break in silence. They’re..serious, despite the upbeat tone. Scarily serious. “You’re…uh…”

[“From the Country,”] you finish for them, the effort clawing at your throat. [“I…guess, yeah. Siffrin, and…and the King are, too.”]

“Yeah, yeah, I had a feeling about Siffrin, but you...”

They narrow their eyes, studying you. Particularly, they focus on your face: eyes, lips, nose; all of your distinctive features

Your throat tightens.

“…you were…unexpected.”

…

Ok. That’s totally not ominous. Not at all.

[“…what -“]

“Soooo~, wasn’t that fun?”

They change the subject before you can even blink, which just makes your head spin. Right back to usual, too, as if they weren’t just staring into your blinding soul.

“I told you that’d be a bad idea.”

You can practically smell the smirk they’d have if they had a mouth.

You sigh. [“…I’d..assume you already know-“]

“I do~.”

[“…yeeaaaaahhhh.”]

You sip your drink. It’s…lukewarm coffee, at this point. You nearly forgot what it was. You never bother to drink it anymore.

It tastes terrible, but still, it helps.

[“And…what does that-“]

“That’s for you to figure out!”

Could they stop with that?!

“No can do, stardust~.”

Right. Good gods. You’re never getting used to that.

You clear your throat. [“What did all of that even give me, anyway? Like what-what was the point? Besides…y’know. The obvious.”]

Loop ponders for a moment, a star-studded finger tapping their chin like a cartoon character would.

“Well…it gave you insight to your oh-so mysterious Traveler and your enemy, and…”

Silence, once again. They give exaggerated taps to their chin area.

This is getting irritating...

“…oh! Of course, how could I forget?”

They sit up, crossing their legs. Their voice rings through your skull once again…

[You’ve unlocked MEMORY OF HERITAGE! You’ll never forget this!]

[This memory grants you and your Traveler the ability to read your country’s language again! Have fun~!]

Ow. That…hurt.

“Sorry, sorry~!”

They’re not.

#this was actually rlly fun #like not my absolute top tier work probably BUT. it was fun #Lorenzo ISAT #in stars and time #isat #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #isat AU #In stars and time AU #in stars and time writing #isat writing #Isat OC #isat loop #technically

18 notes · View notes

driflew · 1 year

Text

it’s six sentence sunday. i do have six sentences, yes, but ive decided instead of posting them, im giving you the entire piece theyre from w incredibly minimal context

woe lamplight role swap be upon ye. we talked abt this in the server and then a few days ago i circled back to it w some friends and fleshed out the details more. god Martyn, paladin Ren, 1.7k words written in a frenzy before my DL session yesterday. this one’s treebark + very late in the theoretical Complete Storyline that exists between me and like three other people

Something is wrong. That’s the first thing Ren thinks when the shield starts to wither, the vines in front of him turning a sickly yellow-grey-black. Usually when Martyn finishes a fight, he simply calls his plants back, but this is… It’s as if someone cut the chord between Martyn and the shield.

But Martyn would defend Ren with everything and more, so if it’s started to die, something is wrong.

There are still voices outside the shield he can hear. Someone is laughing, and the sound comes through the thick vines.

“Holy shit, since when could you…?” someone says. His voice is harsh and tainted with a sadistic sort of glee that makes Ren’s skin crawl every time he hears it.

The vines at Ren’s eyes start to clear, and he grabs at the top, trying to pull himself up. He shouldn’t draw attention to himself, but he wants to see Martyn is okay, that Ren was simply cut off…

Ren doesn’t see Martyn. He peers over the shrinking wall for that familiar blond, but he doesn’t see it. The bandits, or whatever they were, don’t pay the vines any mind at all. They’re gathered nearby, standing over… something.

“I’ve never seen— did you see how much blood—?” another voice. Martyn’s shields are always so thick, the crumbling that overtakes them is much longer than any one off vine. Ren’s stomach turns as the vines crumble past his chest. What does that mean? Why is there blood? It can’t be Martyn’s, though, surely they’d notice if the blood was a god’s.

“I can’t believe you managed that in one hit.” Someone is laughing. Ren fumbles for the knife at his waist, not that it will do anything. Not that he’ll need it—Martyn is fine. He’s fine, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to Ren.

“How hard did you hit him?” She’s looking down, though Ren can’t see at what.

Martyn will be fine, he tells himself. The vines crumble away at his waist and past his thigh, and he doesn’t bother waiting for them to go any lower. He shoves himself over the shield as quietly as he can, but he’s still too loud.

A bandit turns, and when he does, he steps back to reveal what they’ve gathered around. Ren sees a familiar shade of green fabric, crumpled to the ground. He’s on his knees, though his torso is pitched to the side, so Ren can’t see his face.

Ren raises his knife. It isn’t threatening, not with the way his hand wavers, but he doesn’t care.

“Step aside,” Ren commands, sounding far more authoritative than he feels. The bandit actually laughs.

“What, you’re worried about your friend?” he asks. He’s big, much taller than even Ren.

“Yes,” Ren admits, “Take what you want from me, just… step aside. Let me treat him.”

The other bandit begins to smile.

“You want to treat him, huh?” she asks. “I hope you’re a damn good doctor.”

She steps aside as well, finally revealing Martyn.

It’s not that Ren hadn’t been able to see Martyn’s face before he was slumped over. Martyn simply no longer has one.

Martyn’s entire chest is splattered in shimmering red blood, down in places to his stomach. His body slumps sideways, leaking golden blood into the dirt. The cut looks clean, having cleared his head entirely from his shoulders. Ren doesn’t see his head, but he doesn’t look—hardly sees anything, really. His eyes are stuck on the fact the stump is still dripping, leaving a trail down Martyn’s shoulder and toward his hand, still curled around the withering vine that was once Ren’s shield.

“Martyn…?” Ren whispers.

Ren doesn’t even care about the small crowd. He drops the knife and doesn’t think twice about pushing his way through to Martyn, dropping to his knees at Martyn’s side.

“Martyn, come on,” Ren whispers, pleading, grabbing onto Martyn’s shirt. Somewhere behind him, someone laughs.

“I don’t think your buddy’s recovering from this one,” she says. There’s footsteps behind him, but he ignores them, pulling Martyn against his chest to support Martyn’s weight. The wound is so much clearer like this, though Ren doesn’t dare look—the nauseating mix of gold, red, and green are enough to make something thick and heavy catch in his throat, and he can’t tell if it’s the promise of tears or the return of his lunch.

Martyn isn’t… isn’t capable of dying. Martyn can’t die. He’s said as much a dozen times. Surely he’ll be fine, but maybe he just needs…

Ren looks up, but the day is so cloudy, there’s no sun. Is that why Martyn… got hurt like this? Not enough sunlight to stay powerful? He’s in the soil, but Ren’s eyes are starting to blur so much that he can’t even see if Martyn’s grown roots. Surely he’s put down roots by now. He’ll need them to… heal.

“Aw, I almost feel bad for him,” says someone. Ren doesn’t care who, his fingers tight in the soaked fabric of Martyn’s shirt. “Let’s see what plant boy died to keep from getting stolen, cuz it must be good.”

Ren shoves his face into Martyn’s shoulder. Blood soaks the skin around his eyes, but near instantly water clears it.

There’s a clattering of Ren’s bag being dumped open, but he can’t make himself care. The bag isn’t what Martyn died for and Ren knows it.

Ren wraps his arms around Martyn’s chest, soaking both of them in blood. He’d usually wrap his arms around Martyn’s neck, but…

God, they should have just handed over the stupid fucking bag.

“Aw, what? There’s nothing good in here! Who gets fucking beheaded for a watering can?”

Somewhere behind Ren is the clattering of metal on stone, and Ren’s blood would boil if his veins weren’t already shot through with ice. He wants them dead, but he can’t muster the rage for it.

“This isn’t funny,” Ren whispers into Martyn’s shoulder. His voice breaks on something wet, and he shoves his nose further into Martyn’s body to hide it, “Please, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s a li—“ starts a voice, but they cut themselves off. “What is that? What’s he doing?”

Ren doesn’t look. Before he can process the questions, he feels a hand on his back, familiar as Ren’s own. It snakes up the back of his neck, finding purchase in Ren’s hair and holding him in place.

Ren knows Martyn well enough to know don’t look. He screws his eyes shut, and somewhere behind him, someone gasps.

“What the fuck!?” “How did—?” “Drop the bag!” “Just run!”

Ren hears footsteps more than anything, but no screams of pain. Martyn’s scaring them off, he supposes—he wishes they’d die, but he’ll manage.

“You’d think,” coughs a voice, quiet and smug and achingly familiar in Ren’s ear, “if they’re going to comment on ‘so much blood,’ they’d at least look long enough to see it’s not normal.”

Ren pulls his head back, but Martyn holds it in place.

“Gimme a second. I’m not decent yet.” Martyn says, “You really don’t want to see me before I’ve put my face on, and growing something like that takes forever.”

“I don’t care,” Ren says, “I’m really mad at you.”

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did.” Ren’s hands cling hard to the fabric on the back of Martyn’s shirt. It’s damp, still. “Apologize.”

“No. What for?”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Ren says, “You made me cry.”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Martyn says, “Salt water isn’t ideal, but it can work in a pinch.”

For how callous he sounds, Martyn loosens his hand in Ren’s hair, petting his head. He threads his fingers through loose strands, carefully avoiding tugging on any tangles.

“Thanking me for crying is worse,” Ren says, and he almost wants to sigh—only Martyn could get him to stop grieving because he’s annoyed. “You owe me an apology.”

“Hmm,” Martyn says. He moves his hand to the back of Ren’s neck, scratching at the base. It feels nice, but Ren knows what he’s doing.

“You aren’t weaseling out of this,” Ren decides, and this time when he pulls away Martyn lets him.

“You’ve got blood on your face,” Martyn says, as if that’s noteworthy. Ren would hit him in the face if he weren’t so distracted by the fact Martyn had a face at all.

His face is entirely free of blood. There’s a clear line in his neck where he lost his head—everything below is drenched red-gold, and everything above it is as clean as if he’d just bathed. He’s smiling, but his eyes betray that he’s worried.

Ren wants to cry again. Just lost his head, and he’s looking at Ren like Ren is the one they need to worry about.

“And whose fault is that?” Ren says. Martyn hums, removing his hand from Ren’s hair to cup his face. He lets go just as fast, tugging on part of Ren’s cloak to start clearing the blood away.

Ren frowns.

“You’re going to use my cloak?” Ren asks.

“Mine’s too bloody, plus you’re already mad at me,” Martyn explains, shrugging.

Ren wants to smack him. Ren wants to grab him and shake him. Ren wants to take his face into his hands and never let him go. Ren wants…

“I’ve decided how you can apologize to me,” Ren says.

“I’ve done nothing to apologize for! It was those bandits!” Martyn says, arguing as Martyn commandeers his hands. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lean in,” Ren mutters, putting Martyn’s hands on his own face, “You’re too tall.”

“What?” Martyn asks, though Ren pushes closer to him. He tugs Martyn’s shirt, drawing him closer. When Martyn is only a breath away, Ren stops.

“You scared me. I thought I lost you and I was more terrified than I’ve ever been in my entire life. You made me sob, Martyn,” Ren says, “So apologize. Unless you’re still too stubborn.”

“I’m…” Martyn says, and he swallows, and he’s close enough that Ren can feel him breathe. That could almost be an apology in and of itself—Ren will certainly accept the relief in that feeling alone. “I can do that.”

#six sentence sunday #....loosely. this is many more than six #lamplight au #.........also loosely.#we've been calling this one leaflight. tho admittedly sunlight would probs be the name i would use if i published more of this #lew writes #'hey lew how is your work on lamplight going' well it sure is going places #leaflight au

87 notes · View notes

semisolidmind · 9 months

Note

Mistakes were made, I worked out and now my body hates me. I am but a fool. What’s your thoughts on working out?

Also you’re amazing and I love seeing all of your work. I’ve been in an art stump lately and I like your style. It’s super cool. It’s somehow convincing me to get back into drawing. Have a good day. ☺️

i used to work out a lot in high school because of gym class, and i got kinda buff during. now, however, i have the 20-something equivalent of a dad bod. still some muscle in the arms and legs, but ive got some padding over it. ive been told im very huggable ;)

id like to get back to weight-lifting and exercising....but it's tough to make myself go to the gym without someone telling me i have to for a grade.

and thank you for your kind words! it's always uplifting to hear that ive inspired someone, reminds me of how far ive come. ill admit, i have the bad habit of comparing myself to other artists. i know i shouldn't, but it's tough when i feel like i should be farther ahead or better than i am. there are many aspects of my art where i feel like i should be more proficient, but im just not.

nice comments like this remind me that i have improved and continue to do so 🤟

#feelin earnest in this waffle house rn #real candid and peacful ya know #its weird

52 notes · View notes

nyoomian · 1 year

Note

omg hi nyoomian i hope your doing well, i really am excited to see your webtoon. ive been an fan for the past year and see how cool your drawings and ocs are but im still stumped on how abilities work and how people get their abilities. anyway i hope your taking breaks and taking care of yourself, keep up the good work :]]

Hello! I'm so grateful for your support! 🥺 I can't properly answer your question as they will lead to spoilers for the webtoon, but here's my best without them: As far as Tom and Daph know rn, nobody in their vicinity is knowledgeable of Daph's shadow-sensing ability. They don't even know if other people have abilities; everyone seems pretty normal. All Tom and Daph know is that one day, Daph started seeing and hearing things no one else does-- and he coined it 'shadows'.

Tom just takes down notes like a researcher/interviewer, hoping to understand what's going on with Daph's sudden psychic-nonsense. Honestly, he's as stumped as everyone else is right now. It's like we're watching two rats find their way through a maze... lol :] Photo above is from my carrd

#the interpretation of shadows #tios #webtoon #original character #answered ask

70 notes · View notes

insomniamamma · 1 year

Text

Glory: Ezra x F!reader

A/N: written as part of the Year Of Kisses. I never promised I was going to write these in order. This fulfills the prompt "Kiss on a scar." This is part of the Prickle'verse AU, and as with everything in this AU this can stand alone. This is an exploration of intimacy. Tagging @oonajaeadira and @yearofcreation2023

Warnings: references to sex and bodily fluids. kissing. intimacy. Smut, I guess? References to PIV sex. Lots of kissing and touching. This jumps around in time a bit.

Ezra likes to tease. Cold nose and warm breath against your ear as you dicker with the vendor, three newish music cylinders from your last trip off world against whole bean coffee dark roasted and oily, rasp and tickle of stubble and breath, tender threats of what he'll do to you once the two of you are home safe and out of this miserable, unceasing rain.

"Jackass," you chide, kicking out of your muddy boots, rain gear hung to dry by the stove, "I could've gotten another half-measure out of him if you hadn't distracted me."

"Seeing you fluster is worth a half-measure," says Ezra, "It's cute."

"Cute," you echo. A word no-one but Ezra has ever pinned on you. "Hmmm."

"You'll see how cute I am drinking the real stuff when you're back to sucking down instant," you say, bending to load logs into the stove, a cut down and repurposed LOX back up tank, you get four lengths in before he curls his arm around you and hauls you tight against him. You feel him hard, pressed against you.

"I've missed you, Prickle,"

"We've been together all morning."

"Even so."

He always has words, even when you are shy under his eyes, even after all this time. You shrink in on yourself and he stops you. Don't hide from me, pretty girl. Ez, I'm not-- You are. Prettiest thing Ive ever seen. Softest skin I've ever had the good fortune to touch, he says, tracing his fingers along the curve of your belly, the swell of your hip, the dimpled skin of your thigh-- You're mine, he nuzzles into the tender space beneath your ear that makes you squirm and prickle. Ez Mine, he says, he nips at the corded tendon at your neck, and you shiver, just like the first time you ever felt the nip of his teeth and the pass of his tongue. Yours, you breathe, always.

In the early days of you and him, you weren't sure how to touch him, where you could lay your hands. You'd fucked, you'd kissed, you'd clung to each other like you were ready to drown, but he was still a mystery. A three day stay over on Jocasta, a grotty bench if there ever was one, Cee with her own berth and smugly happy about it, and that meant the two of you alone, tiny room with grimy walls, barely enough space to stand, you and him wrapped around in bed sheets, fucked out and sated, his spend dribbling out of you, your hands skimming over him, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the strong curve of his nose, the flyaway hairs at the nape of his neck. You need a haircut, Ez, the span of his shoulders under your palms and here you hesitate. Can I-- His lips quirk up, but his eyes are so sad. You could never hurt me. Smooth your hands over the plane of his shoulder and down to where his right arm ends, livid scars and puffy skin from the revision, you draw your fingers along the tight, angry indentations and Ezra stays stone-still, and when you look at him there is something unreadable in his eyes, a darkness that gives nothing, cup your hand around the end of his stump, careful not to put any pressure on him. Does it hurt? Ezra laughs, but it's a bitter sound, No. It's not pain, precisely. I feel your hand, but I also feel mine. The one that isn't there any more. It's a curious sensation. You start to draw away and he stops you, his good hand curled around your nape, lips tickling soft against your neck. I'm yours, he murmurs against your pulse, you can't hurt me. I'm yours to explore. Mine. Yours.

"I'm cold." "I'll warm you up right quick." Ezra ushers you to the bedroom, you kick the door closed and he's on you, lips and tongue and teeth, desperation in his kiss, his hand gripping your hip, pressing you against him. He gets like this sometimes. "Took your sweet time closing that deal at the market," he breathes and then nips at your earlobe, teeth and tongue and heat of his breath on your spit-slicked skin, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were dallying on purpose.--"

His teeth graze against your collarbone and you thread your fingers through his unruly curls and tug just a little, just the way he likes it, and he nuzzles at you through your shirt. "I'm not a sweet-talker like you," you say. He slides his hand beneath your shirt and you arch into his touch, presses his palm warm over your sternum before cupping your breast, stroking his thumb over your nipple till it aches hard, "You'll sound awfully sweet in a minute when you're crying my name." "Menace!" You swat at him and he smiles up at you, his lips smirk, but his eyes are warm. Ez likes to tease. "Yes. But I'm your menace." "Mmmh. Lucky Me."

Scars on either side of his rib cage where they planted chest tubes in him on the freighter. Indentation in the crook of his elbow where they'd inserted a large-bore IV line. Tight, thick line against the soft swell of his belly where Inumon tried to gut him, faint rectangular discolorations where they'd harvested skin grafts to pad his stump.

Ezra stays still and lets you touch him, lets you map him, memorize him, make him your own. He is warm beneath your questing hands. It becomes too much for him and he hooks his hand around the nape of your neck and presses his mouth to yours, slides his tongue between your parted lips to touch yours, gentle and wanting and you whimper into his mouth, this softness between you is new and raw and open, and he draws back to look at you, to search your face with those dark eyes.

How about this one? You run the pad of your thumb over the silvered scar beneath his eye, a jagged fingernail moon. Me and my brother were playing chase, says Ezra, I tripped up and fell on a sharp bit of rock. He ran like a rabbit once he saw all the blood. I used to think it made me ugly. Seems a bit silly now, huh? You lean into him, sharing his breath, his warmth, his palm spread wide between your shoulder blades, press your lips to that little half-moon. You're not ugly, Ezra, I'll fight anyone who says different.

"I can't see you this way," Ezra pouts, but his eyes smile. You pull the blankets over the both of you. "Tough titty said the kitty," you say, "If it was warmer in here I might make different choices." "Damn it, Prickle, I told you those radiator coils are on back order." "Promises promises. You gonna warm me up or what?" "Mmmm… Ask and ye shall receive."

#ezra x f!reader #ezra x f!reader w/cee #prickle 'verse au #prickle verse #ezra x prickle #year of kisses #year of themes 2023

62 notes · View notes

k4rma11 · 11 months

Photo

guess what. theres MORE + that extra kayn piece I do not remember finishing but i remember sketching. all characters belong to @crescencestudio i love drawing these sm, takin’ me outta the art stump ive been in fr

#my art #alaris fanart #shits and giggles things man

29 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

Note

UMUMUMUM!! can we please get some general fluff headcannons for the puppeteer and a GN!reader ? i totally understand if you cant or dont want to/gen

General Headcannons for Puppeteer x reader!

oooo been a hot minute since ive been asked to do a solo post for the puppeteer ! yipee! going to try to knock this one out since ive got something baking in the oven eheheheheh!

definitely a teaser... if youre the type to get flustered or embarrassed easily i think hes going to exploit that- not exactly in a malicious way, he just thinks its adorable how you get all red and stumble all over your words

honestly whenever i think of romantic headcannons for him i tend to think of him like a spoiled cat, like yeah sure he knows hes all that and he knows youre going to keep dumping affection into them and hes probably going to get pouty if you retract that for a moment; if that makes sense

which does make me wonder, should i grant him the silly hc of being able to purr? or perhaps, maybe he chirps and clacks? his limbs are kind of wooden, or at least give off the illusion of it.. maybe they rattle a bit in a mocking attempt of a purr? shrugs, ive always been a fan of characters like that rattling to show being flustered or happy

definitely hovers and looks over your shoulder, probably leans/looks over your should while youre working on things... if youre working on something and look to be a little stumped i think he might actually offer some pretty solid criticism and/or ideas... he looks like he would be into artsy stuff... or maybe thats just because he looks like he would be because of how the admin draws him... admin makes him look like a fruity depressed art student who drinks black coffee and smokes between classes

getting back on track, he doesnt sleep, so he tends to wander around your house during the night while youre sleeping.. usually opts to watch over you while you sleep... might wake you up if you seem to be having a nightmare but will likely play it off as him just needing something from you... him? being soft and caring about your health? pshhh,...... but please drink this water, you look a little thirsty

definitely more of a shower than a speaker in terms of showing he cares about you, has a little bit of an ego, you know?

good at sewing and stitching, you never have to deal with your clothes having rips or holes ever again because hes going to be patching them up without you even having to ask; just dont tease him about it,,,! he might just stop doing it for a while out of vague embarrassment

cant take what he dishes out; he constantly lightly makes fun of you for a bunch of stuff in order to get you flustered, but the second the tables turn hes going to be shuffling away and hovering off out of sight

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta imagine #puppeteer headcannons #puppeteer x you #puppeteer x reader #puppeteer imagine

13 notes · View notes

lockandkeyhyena · 1 year

Note

Sorry in advance for the long block of text here… Ive been seeing your ocs all over my feed and now im obsessed!!! Hope you do not mind answering my 5000 questions!! . ~ What was Hercules like as a wee lad?… For the sake of science if you stuck him in a room with 6 other children, what would he do..? would he have any notable / unusual habits compared to the others….? ~ If Hercules could wish for anything ever in the world what would he wish for. Also whats the most expensive thing hes ever bought! ~ Does he have any consistent quirks/stims…? Any silly gestures or quotes ? ~ What do you think an average day would be like for him ? What does he usually eat ? … Hows his morning / evening routines? Is it basic or extensive? Do you think hed be the type to take an hour long candle-lit shower and bathe himself in 50 creams lotions perfumes … or does he just dip and go ? ~ What is his house like…? Does he have his own or is it a family home / did he inherent it. Do you have any idea what it would look like ? What does his own personal room look like ? does he enjoy keeping/collecting anything in particular , or is he a minimalist

Okay now for the sake of science and connecting to Hercules psychologically I must know how he would react to the following scenarios: ~ If he one day woke up in a 4x4 cage in the middle of the Arizona desert what would be do? … ~ If he was walking around one day and suddenly the government said his city was gonna be nuked in 10 MINUTES what would he do? … ~ If he went to walmart and saw a child throwing a tantrum over toys what would he do? …. ~ If he was sitting around and a cute little kitty or puppy came up to him and wanted food and pets really badly what would be do? … ~ if he was going on about his day and, bare with me now, was firsthand witness to the oppa homeless style tumblr text post scenario, in real life, what would he do? That is all .... Thank you for your time homie of tumblr nation

please DO NOT apologise these sorts of questions and character analysis things are the stuff i LIVE for. strap in folks its gonna be a long one gonna answer these in bulletpoint form maybe a drawing or two scattered throughout!

~ Hercules was,, uhhh,,,,, Not that similar to other children and that fact only exacerbated as he got older. At his mentally healthiest he probably would’ve gotten a lot of ‘wow you’re so mature for your age!’s from adults. Growing up being completely desensitised to violence and in a relatively loving but still very fucked up environment will do that to you.

In regards to sticking him in a room with a bunch of other children and seeing what happens- he actually went to kindergarten! Titan was surprisingly firm that he have as regular of an education and upbringing possible for the kid of a mafia boss. She…. half-managed.

In regards to your thought experiment, here are some drawings from his time at kindergarten when he was at his least traumatised!

~ If he could wish for anything. This is an amazing question- what do you give the man who thinks he has everything he wants? He’d probably wish for whatever problem in the moment that was stumping him to be fixed (gang relations, nosy detectives, etc). Personally I think he should wish for some therapy but thats just me.

In regards to money, he’s really not that extravagant a spender (leave that to Titan) and his quarters are rather modest, the most he’s ever spent on things are probably gifts for his mother lol.

~ Oh BOY does he have stims- he taps. He’ll rhythmically tap his cane on the floor, tap his feet, twitch his tail and tap his nails against the nearest surface. He usually does this when he’s impatient or bored and it’s Not a good sound to hear when in a meeting with him. Though he tends to do this unconsciously and will usually stop if he notices and is in the company of other people (he thinks its unprofessional).

~ Like I said above, he’s really not super into decadence, he thinks extravagance and showy displays of wealth are tacky and unnecessary. His morning routine is probably something along the lines of wake up at 8am, take an ice cold shower, get dressed, eat breakfast (homecooked meals only. He’s a surprisingly good cook), check up on his finances, go do all the things he needs to do for the day, come back home and go to sleep. Very important note is that he wears those cartoon blue and white striped pyjamas.

~ DESPITE not being into overt displays of wealth, he does in fact live in a giant fuck off victorian mcmansion that he inherited from his mother. He doesn’t even use half of it and spends all his time in the house either sleeping or holed up in his study.

His study is a mess btw. Papers everywhere, needs to be swept. He’s very embarrassed about it but since he only ever uses it for all-nighters he never has any time to clean or organise it. His bedroom is immaculately tidy with only a few personal effects and the rest of the house aside from the essentials and a few guest rooms is covered in a fine layer of dust.

okay and here are his reactions to some hypothetical scenarios!

~ Cage in the desert. Okay so his thought process would probably go something like this;

Step one. Don’t panic. Evaluate the time of day through the position of the sun. Scan memories from last night to check for any gaps or places he could have been drugged.

Step two. Go down through his list of enemies and try and figure out who was most likely to have done this.

Step three. Do not panic. Felines can survive for three days without water. It likely hasn’t been more than half a day since he was kidnapped and Leroy will have been alerted to his disappearance and is likely looking for him now.

Step four. Do. Not. Panic. Stay put and attempt to look for weaknesses in the cage, if none can be found stay put and don’t waste your energy. Prepare to drink your own piss if things get bad. Also prepare snarky retort for when Leroy finds you.

~ Nuke scenario. Probably try very hard not to panic and follow his emergency evacuation plan of the city and try to get as far away as possible with his friends most valuable employees.

~ Child tantrum. Depending on the age of the child he might just straight up flash a gun at them to try and get them to shut up. He wasn’t this whiny as a kid- what’s their problem?

~ Very cute animal begging for attention. If alone, the most logical course of action is to acquiesce to its’ demands and give it a pat. It doesn’t take away attention from the task at hand will get it to stop making annoying noises. If he’s with other people he would ask them to give it attention to get it to stop bothering him.

~ Oppa homeless style. He would slowly back away, go home, get out a bottle of his strongest liquor and re-evaluate what he’s doing with his life. Too bad oppa homeless style doesn’t exist in the canon of sadboycats 😔

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTIONS and apologies for the absolute wall of text in response. These kitties have been eating up my brain.

#seriously ppl sending asks take notes this is how you do it this made my day i love thinking abt these sorts of questions #yeen art #ocs #hercules beetle #yeen rambles #sadboycats #long post

23 notes · View notes