Luke Pearson, slapping Johanna's forehead like a car boot: this bad boy can fit so much childhood truama in her
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No seriously why did I fall for him??? Literally the only man I could never have???? Its so dumb and stupid lolll (Im in pain)
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Hilda Dias Pimentel by Ali Mitton
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Tried to imagine genderbent bell keeper for a moment. Immediately had to stop due to overwhelming gay panic. 10/10 would recommend the experience
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POV: you jump out of the way of a giant bell with your boss. But then you turn around and there’s all bell and no boss.
I will never, ever, not laugh at this scene. But just imagine being Gerda. She 100% expected Erik to jump out of the way with her - that bell was getting plenty of air time.
Bonus sketch:
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I have so many Hilda oc’s that I’m insane over but I almost never share anything about them lol
but I want to soooooo here’s a few from a story I’ve started writing
there are many more characters that I have for this story alone, but these are just the ones that have shown up so far in the 2-ish chapters I’ve written as of yet
not only am I writing Grod’s journey but I also plan on making his Beastiary/Journal
+ some extra information:
iff anyone maybe perchance wants to know anything else about anything at all pretty please tell me cuz I’d love to talk about them /nf
I’ve shown Grod, Slippy, and Brunt before in this post,, feat: Grod’s backpack he dosent have yet
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I thrifted a Hilda plate, a couple more little guys for my Little Guy Collection, and the cutest fucking placemats
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my entire gallery is just really dumb screenshots of johanna help 😭😭😭
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But the last one was different. It wasn’t a strained family picture, punctuated by forced expressions and bad feelings; it was just the son, now definitely an adult, half-curled up in an oversized sweater on a hard-backed hospital chair. His face was lined with exhaustion, grey bags hanging under his eyes, but his expression was alive with warmth and unconditional love, his gaze down on a tiny bundle in his arms.
Hilda couldn’t help gasping as she looked down. He was cradling a baby, so small and so fragile, with delicate reverence. Their skin was flushed, their tiny face scrunched up, and they were swaddled in off-white hospital cloths. But none of that was what really gave her pause; Hilda’s heart near-stopped as she peered at the child, everything slamming to a halt at once, because the baby’s thin hair was a deeply familiar shade of pale blue.
That couldn’t be her, could it?
An important moment from my fic, They Wanted A Son; the first photo Johanna has of herself with a newborn Hilda. Johanna is transfem in this fic, which is why she looks "boyish" here (and Hilda mistakes her for masc when looking at the photo for the first time) - she isn't out of the closet quite yet, but she's already an amazing mum.
Art by the incredible @toastyghostyhq - textless under the cut :))
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Yk, ideologically I don’t agree with lying to your niece and subsequently putting your great niece in danger, but I cannot deny that aunt Astrid went hard with the ‘butch looking old woman who dabbles in witchcraft and is overall super cool’ thing
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Portrait Of Hilda Wiik (1881) by Maria Wiik (Finnish, 1853 – 1928)
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