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#i need to draw obs more often
osc-reblogs · 2 years
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: )
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but just imagine.... cowboy catboy xigbar.... as if, yee-nyah....
cowboy catboy xigbar where he unapologetically says 'meowdy'
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chisatowo · 2 years
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Omg is that Looser from Eternal Gales created by Keese aka chisatowo everyone's favorite tumblr dot com user wow Im your biggest fan
#keese draws#oc art#oc posting#eternal gales#btw the energy back glands doodle I did there isnt rly an acurate representation of how theyd actually use that energy#generally bright yellow energy is made to be constructed into a shape and its specific effects varry on the shape#usually this comes most naturally in making like energy wings but can also be more so weaponised with practice#for example one could form spikes or pincers or smth like that#its actually not super uncommon for obes with mouths to learn to form mandibles to assist with carrying more things#these guys have the benifit of not instantly burning any energy they use like this#being able to reuse energy instead of just flushing out all of the energy they use means that they can use it a lot more frequently#not that most do since its still bot that common for a stalien to know how to use their abilities in the first place but still pretty neat#looser actully does know how to use his energy more so than most but still doesnt too often#and when he does its usually with his mouth glands since yknow hes usually wearing a shirt#he can use his back glands through his shirt but it takes a bit more effort plus its not often he needs em anyways#one thing to note is that typically yellow blooded staliens that dont have mouths still sorta have the mouth glands#and ones with eyes tend to have non functioning eye glands that only act as blood filters when they do use their energy basically#anyways worldbuilding lecture over time to break shit (<- is in a bad mood)
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kenphobia · 11 months
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PASILYO!
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"Panalangin ko'y ikaw."
summary. moving into a new town is nerve-wracking, especially when your new neighbors are quite the eye candy. ( headcanons / 1k wc / read end notes )
contents. human au! welcome home, relationship dynamic is ambiguous and up for interpretations, general fluff, somewhat implied angst
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WALLY DARLING!
✦ The surname 'Darling' was not unfamiliar to you. In fact, you recognized it being one of the many famous names in the art industry, a family of well-known artists. So when you found out your next door neighbor was no other than Wally Darling, one of the top selling painters, you couldn't put your shock into words.
✦ He truly lived up to his surname, being quite a lovely companion and always assisting you any of your problems. He'd always ask you to be his muse in return for his help or even join him on little trips to Howdy's Place for more art supplies.
✦ If you asked him to teach you how to draw or if you're an artist yourself and need some constructive criticism, he definitely does well in that department. If you're interested in dabbing into some painting too, he's right there beside you and guiding your hands on what to do, regardless of what medium.
✦ He'd even be your muse too! He'll be a bit embarrassed, not used to getting such attention in a way like this, but he does a great job at staying still and posing in a way that's not too difficult but enough to still be interesting.
✦ Coffee shop 'dates' are a must. Wally doesn't do well with coffee, so he orders tea more often that not. If he does get coffee, he always sticks with you so you can stop him from stealing Howdy's apples and running off. Again. He's ... energetic like that.
HOWDY PILLAR!
✦ Howdy was the owner of the bodega and you boss! When you had stepped into his store, you are set leaving with too many bags hanging from your arms and a nearly empty wallet. It doesn't bother much residents since his products are extremely high quality and worth the price.
✦ When I say he has everything, he has everything. There's nothing you won't find in his store, it's practically a mini mall at this point. Sure, he does lack in some areas but you cannot lie that this man has a lot jam-packed in his store.
✦ He's also one of the tallest neighbors you have met throughout your stay, and had lifted your body up more than twice and made you look like nothing more but a bag of grapes in his hands. Doesn't matter what your height is, he has those strong, finely toned muscles from always several boxes stacked atop each other.
✦ Howdy is the most intelligent when it comes to emotions since after all, he has a lot of siblings and most of them are younger than him and/or looks up to him a lot. You need a break? No problem! He'll lead you right to the staff lounge and offer you some tea. A hug? Someone to hold your hand? He is on the way with blankets and pillows, and there is no way stopping him from making a pillow fort. He will also listen to your vents and comfort you or join you in gossiping and shit talking about the more ... rude neighbors.
✦ Babygirl's always been girlypop like that. And oh, his hugs are the best! Absolutely comfortable and not gonna lie, you often feel as if he had four arms wrapped around you all firmly and sweetly. Sometimes, you can see another pair of arms protruding from his back. but you aren't sure if it is true or a work of imagination.
POPPY PARTRIDGE!
✦ Being Howdy's employee, you're bound to come across everyone's mother figure: Poppy! Though, she was a bit anxious and jittery around you at first, she quickly came used to your presence and would beeline straight for your register if you were covering up for one of the cashiers.
✦ She's incredibly sweet, easily flustered and often gifts you her baked goods or knitted accessories and clothing. She often invites you to her baking sessions, even teaching you the basics of baking if you haven't done it before.
✦ Whenever Poppy isn't feeling well, she'd usually go to the obvious person: Wally. After all, they have a close-knit familial relationship and Wally always knows how to calm Poppy's nerves. But when he isn't around, she comes to you. She calms down easily when she has you in her arms, cuddling on the sofa while the TV plays her favourite show.
✦ It's a bit funny when someone as tall as Poppy picks you up like a little ragdoll cat, shoves her face into your hair and sobs. It's even funnier if you're known to be quite grumpy, but you couldn't push Poppy away without Wally coming after you.
✦ If you ever yourself hurt, it's best to not let Poppy know or else she'll start worrying. It's fine if it's just a little scratch, nothing like a quick, thorough wash can fix. But please for the love of god, keep yourself in check and wound-free for both of your sake. Neither of you would not risk getting white hair in your 20's.
RANDOM HEADCANONS!
✦ All neighbors are somewhere around 25 and above, with Howdy being the youngest, and both Barnaby and Wally as the oldest.
✦ Wally graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Fine arts and Poppy managed to snag a BS degree in Nursing, but Howdy's an undergrad and wasn't able to finish college because of having to focus providing for his family more than his studies.
✦ Poppy used to work in a clinic before completely ditching it the moment she sees the slight of blood. She was willing to endure the grim crimson liquid during her college years, but she'd drink a whole spoon of vanilla extract than see blood again.
✦ Wally had a blue period once, but most of the paintings from that time is locked away in his basement. Only a few of them hung in some art galleries and Barnaby's house.
✦ Howdy spends his lunch break at the community center. He also avoids packing himself an apple because Wally once grabbed it with his teeth and ran off.
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notes. this is just part 1!!! im prepping myself for that human au! welcome home x tma because i want to make expand more on their characters!! the story is basically self-indulgent and completely fanon. once the actual welcome home storyline is out, i may or may not rewrite it (again)
also dont mind me inserting the Filipino vibes into my writings. this isn't just half of it. i could make an entire human au! welcome home but all of them are filipinos, but i barely know my country and its people 😔
Anyways!! requests are always open, read my pinned post b4 interacting and have a good day (人*´∀`)。*゚+
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metanarrates · 7 months
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would you say shoujo boys are a Character Type in a distinct manner from the way shounen girls are?
oh, absolutely. while of course the overall character trends present in both genres can be very broad and leave room for a lot of variation, much like how the archetypal shonen girl is defined by her potential romantic relation to the protagonist, the archetypal shoujo boy is perhaps even more so. this is because while shonen absolutely includes romance as a component of its frequently-escapist storytelling, shoujo almost ALWAYS includes romance as a main focus.
(disclaimer that I'm talking very very broadly with trends I've seen in the genres, and not about specific individual works. there's a lot of shoujo with mainstream popularity that deals with telling different types of stories, and the same is true for shonen. it's just also true that it's been very rare for me to encounter a shoujo work that isn't romantically focused, and I spend a LOT of time scrolling manga sites to find shoujo when I want to read something chill.)
for the shoujo boy, the specific archetypes he's drawing off of tend to be what's currently in fashion at the moment, but the common denominators tend to be that he is older, usually more "worldly" than the protagonist, and possesses great social, political, or magical power. if he's in a fantasy story, he is either a duke or a prince. if he's in a more modern story, he is likely considered to be at the top of a social hierarchy. you'll notice that all these factors translate to him being more powerful than the protagonist. this is for a very specific reason! a critical component of shoujo romance stories is that the hero almost always needs to be capable of protecting the heroine in some way.
you could make an ENTIRE gender studies course on this, but I won't digress into that very interesting tangent. here, I'm just attempting to identify the common archetype and the fantasy underpinning that archetype. for now, it's enough to say that the fantasy of having a boyfriend who can protect you is nearly universally shown in shoujo romances. these tropes are usually true of both main male leads and any secondary love interest that the protagonist picks up, btw.
another critical component of the archetype is that the shoujo boy has a wound that only the female protagonist can heal. whether that's physical (guy undergoing a magical transformation into something, guy with rare magical disease, etc) or emotional (usually the guy's got some trauma,) there is almost always something uniquely healing about the protagonist that draws him to her. if he's a womanizer, she can make him faithful to only her. if he's brooding, she possesses the ability to make him smile. he is always thinking about her. it's difficult for him to take his eyes off her when they're in a room together. and if he isn't someone who is usually gentle to others, somehow he is capable of being gentle to the protagonist.
honestly, i would say his actual personality is way less important than his story utility. whether he's a sweet childhood friend, an overbearing romantic pursuer, a brooding loner, or anything else, it's almost always true that a major male character will present some traits of an idealized male love interest as mentioned above. his personality traits outside of that will just appeal to varying and more specific types of fantasy boyfriend.
the shonen girl, by contrast, often requires a very specific personality type to be the object of desire (and usually the object of plot) in her story. while there are exceptions, the most common shonen girl archetype that I've seen is just kind of generically feminine and sweet. if she fights, she often loses. if she tries to be active, her attempts at agency will end with her being damselled. think kairi from kingdom hearts or orihime from bleach.
on that note, that's also a major point of divergence between the two archetypes. while the shonen girl frequently exists as a plot macguffin and object of desire, the shoujo boy is very frequently a driver of plot. whether he's swooping in to save the protagonist from an evil dragon, fighting the protagonist in an academic rivalry, or the protagonist's arranged-marriage husband with a big secret, he usually moves the plot forward with his actions. though the honor of main plot driver either goes to the protagonist herself or to outside forces such as a villain, every major male lead in a shoujo story will contribute to the plot momentum in some way. again, you could write a gender studies thesis on this.
but that's my broad analysis of trends! I'll note that the bulk of both shoujo AND shonen I've read are almost always fantasy, so my perspective of big trends might be a little skewed to those genres. I'm not too sure what usually goes on in shoujo with contemporary settings, for example. feel free to add on with any thoughts of your own, especially if you think I'm off base about something!
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hekateinhell · 1 year
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Before I started with the NSFW prompts, I was going to try to do Kinktober 2022. That didn't happen, but I did have this prompt and pairing scribbled in my notes app, so here she is, actually done. Lestat/Armand, post-canon AU, rated E (cock warming, canon-compliant), 2k. For @ancelegance, who read this already. 🖤
"What is it, Armand?" Lestat didn't even spare him a glance, although a faint smile tugged at the corners of the lips. So focused was he on the mounds of paperwork before him; it took him longer than it normally would have to realize he wasn't receiving a response.
Come with me.
"Armand, mon chèri, you know I would love to spend the evening with you, but look at this! I'll be lucky to grab a small drink before dawn." It's not meant to be defensive, but frankly, it felt as though Lestat could either manage one of two things: being Prince or being a Blood Spouse to one such as Armand – the circumstances of which remain a story for another time.
"Fine," Lestat sighed, flinging down his pen with all the added flair of a dramatic theatre child. Looked up and met Armand's large dark eyes with a forced cheeriness but a genuine affection. Must everyone always find him lacking in some way? Perhaps Armand read that in his expression because he appeared to shrink into himself momentarily, his youthful face vulnerable and sad once more.
Damn.
"I'll compromise with you," Lestat pushed back his chair and patted his lap, "Come here." Suddenly self-conscious but never one to disobey a direct command from Lestat's lips in this, their new season, Armand timidly slid his arms around Lestat's shoulders before straddling his lap and leaning forward to rest his head against the prominent clavicle.
Tell me what I can do for you, my wild one. Let me be a comfort to you. It's a plea, equal parts a desire to comfort and the need to assert his usefulness – if to nobody but himself. Lestat pressed a kiss to those auburn tresses, his hands instinctively resting on Armand's narrow waist.
"You already are such a comfort to me," he murmured, hoping Armand heard the sincerity that Lestat tried to infuse into every word.
A sigh was the only response as Armand tightened his grip and drew as close as he possibly could to be completely flush to Lestat's more muscular body. "I need you," he whispered as if it were a sinner's confession rather than a lover's ask, his hands repeatedly opening and closing over the fabric of Lestat's silk shirt.
"Of course you do," Lestat couldn't resist the tease, while swallowing down the rest of that thought. Of course you do, after I've denied you for so long. "Take whatever it is you need then, mon coeur," said Lestat earnestly, and he meant it; the notion of an equalized relationship still not an entirely familiar concept to him.
Armand wordlessly drew Lestat's hand to his face, nuzzling against his palm like a kitten might, before turning it over to place a lingering kiss on the topaz gem that adorned the golden band around Lestat's ring finger – clearly expressing his devotion and appreciation for his beloved, his Prince.
The tableau he made, with his dark lashes dusting over his cheekbones as he bowed his head, was enough to make Lestat's heart twist painfully in his chest. He pulled back his hand to twist it into Armand's hair instead, drawing him in for an embrace that was rough and possessing and perhaps a bit desperate. Surely Lestat wasn't that much of a withholding spouse that warranted the display Armand had just presented?
Armand’s smaller, delicate hands came to cradle Lestat’s face as his fangs grazed Lestat’s bottom lip, the sharp nails digging into the flesh just enough that Lestat resisted moving, opting to let Armand take control. Contrary to most appearances, it was nice–comforting even–to be held in place by Armand as he so often was.
It’s either the best or worst kept secret in their court.
"You do well, Lestat," Armand whispered in between kisses that were somehow chaste in their tenderness yet obscene in their urgency.
Lestat didn't do well; he knew this. His Prime Minister wouldn't be in the temper he was usually in if that were the case. Armand needn't come begging for a quick caress and a sweet word if Lestat were doing well.
Still, hearing the loving affirmation murmured in that honeyed voice was enough to make Lestat's throat tighten, and he blinked rapidly to dismiss the subsequent unwanted emotional response.
Armand, damn him, caught it anyway, and he smiled like a child, delighted.
“Imp,” Lestat waved him off gently with a laugh that wasn't entirely forced. “Go on then! Do what you came here to do, mon chèri!”
“Oh, I'm about to, mon roi,” Armand teased as he rose with a flourish.
Of course, Lestat watched – a man in a trance – as Armand unlaced his knee-high leather boots with a precision and a learned seduction that only a vampire, only Armand for that matter, could possess. His white ruffled shirt and grey trousers were next to follow, purposely left discarded on the rug.
For a man that hadn't felt the sensation of human arousal in his body in the last two hundred years, Lestat would certainly think he was at least experiencing the imitation of it, if it weren't for the obvious fact that nothing ever changed in the region below his waist.
What a pity, a travesty, really!
Nonetheless, Armand's was a bewitching beauty that Lestat longed to claim for himself; a wildcat he'd finally subdued into the demure, sympathetic creature that stood before him now.
Permit a man his delusions of grandeur, please. If nothing else, it appeased Lestat's ego to see the efforts Armand lavished on him. Always had... How could it not?
"Cherub child," Lestat teased in an abrupt flash of wickedness. What a thing to say as Armand approached him, seemingly dancing, before kneeling down in front of the ornate mahogany chair. Completely nude, his curls tumbling over his shoulders as his hand came to massage the ever-present hardness between Lestat's thighs.
"Expecting a miracle, are we, darling?" Lestat questioned, amusement and confusion evident in his voice as he reached out to push Armand's hair back over his shoulder, unobstructing the view of that angelic face.
"No," Armand looked up at him now, tiny fanged teeth coming to nip lightly at Lestat's jaw – an effective distraction – while a satin-like hand quickly freed him from the confines of his trousers.
Hard not to gloat like a mortal man upon seeing the satisfied glint in Armand's eyes each time he took in Lestat's physical endowments, even if he had no use for them beyond the mere aesthetic.
"Is that what you think? That I have no use for all of this?" Armand gently stroked Lestat from base to tip, lingering as though he, Armand, were gaining pleasure from the act itself.
"Do you, really?"
All other thought left Lestat's mind when he looked, really looked, at Armand's face for the first time all evening. His entire face flushed pink, darkest at his cheeks and plump lips, the stolen heat making itself known like rouge painted onto the features of a china doll. He felt almost feverish to the touch when Lestat dragged his knuckles along the apple curve of a perfect cheekbone, "You must have been starving to gorge yourself like this!"
Oh, but I am starving still, Lestat...
"I told you," Lestat reminded him, veritably hypnotized, "Take whatever you need from me. It's yours, Armand. I swear it." Armand startled and blinked at this in a way he hadn't the first time Lestat had spoken the words. He looked terribly, frightfully, young then – the seductive bravado slipping for a moment before his lips curved into a rare, genuinely serene smile. "You did tell me that, didn't you?"
It wasn't a question that sought a response, and Armand didn't wait for one. Turning to face the doorway, he held the edge of the antique desk with one hand while the other reached back and readily sought Lestat's cock.
"Armand-"
You said whatever I needed. Now, quiet.
He could only watch spellbound in rapt fascination as Armand sank down on his shaft in one fluid, rehearsed motion. A motion so skilled it ought to be scandalous. Armand had evidently prepared himself well beforehand, but it was not without a sense of pride that Lestat noted a subtle catch in his breath. In all probability, a part of the show, given a vampire's tolerance for pain, but Lestat still thought it polite and gentlemanly to enquire, "Are you alright, love?"
Armand was fully nestled in his lap now and warm. His internal heat surpassing what Lestat had felt on his face moments ago; the private clutch of Armand's body was snug, slick, and so agreeably warm. "It's an adjustment," Armand replied as he nodded against Lestat's shoulder, interlacing their fingers and bringing Lestat's hand to press on his lower abdomen.
Lestat could have laughed out loud. "My, you are certainly full of flattery tonight! Perhaps I shall ignore you more often." Armand didn't respond, but his fingers over Lestat's hand slacked as his body stiffened, his chin tilting downward ever so slightly.
Why did the wrong thing always slip out so easily to Armand? What sort of damnable curse was this?
I didn't mean that, Armand! You know that I didn't. You know how much of my love you hold, don't you? Tell me that you do…
He's the one gripping Armand's fingertips now, and Armand gave no reaction before suddenly taking in a sharp breath and sitting up again while keeping his toes pressed to the carpet. Never relinquishing an inch of Lestat's cock inside him as he braced his elbows along the hard wood and picked up the court document Lestat had been pursuing in frustration when Armand had first walked in.
His voice was clear and melodic when he read it out loud, as it was when he allowed his accents to come through. Sweetly caressing the vowels with a trace of their native French, the language in which they'd first been acquainted.
As the pronounced exhaustion that came only from duty and obligation began to make itself known – combined with Armand’s soft and saccharine tones and the heat that enveloped him – Lestat felt himself becoming rather lethargic in a manner not unlike a stray animal that’s long-last found its refuge in a storm.
His forearms formed a cage around Armand's middle, cheek pressing against the jut of an unblemished shoulder blade. At some point, the words faded out, but the delicate sounds remained – all Lestat knew in those moments as he drifted in and out of a half-sleep was the delectable inner warmth and the unmistakable scent of his boyish companion. Barely noticed a hand passing over his head, pausing briefly to tousle his golden curls before Armand made a small cut in his own skin.
Go on, lover. I fed for both of us tonight.
How easy for Lestat to turn his head to the other side and sink his fangs into Armand's throat without opening his eyes, relying instead on muscle memory and his predatory senses to find the vein, finally latching on with a slow and drowsy suck like an infant to its nurse.
Merci, Armand. Lestat squeezed his hips, grinding against him for good measure as if he could conceivably get any deeper, perhaps disappear entirely.
A kingdom to spend the rest of his eternity in this position.
Upon drinking his fill, he carefully retracted, sealing the wound with a lick and a kiss, dropping his forehead back down to its previous placement, partially hidden beneath that russet hair. Content to be wholly supported by Armand's deceptively slighter body while he slumbered, satiated in all the ways a man and vampire could possibly be.
Was I to your liking then, my Lestat? Coy, yet cocky at the same time. Knowing he had given Lestat what Lestat had needed, but craving the acknowledgment that Lestat had, in fact, understood what just transpired between them.
Indescribably so, as always.
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supagogoman · 1 year
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My experience with becoming a Vtuber for a bit, and some of the programs I've used to do it
I decided to write this as I found it's actually kind of surprising how easily accessible creating simple Vtubing actually is. I guess I shouldn't be surprised since Vtubers are all the rage currently and how big the community is, but a curious browse at the current tools available kind of made me try out some of them myself for fun and while I still don't have an actual Vtubing "persona" (besides being an animated Slippy Toad avatar ripped from Star Fox Zero) it's certainly a lot of fun to mess around with.
Initially I assumed there was quite a high barrier of entry; the most popular, mainstream vtubers use Live2D or full 3D models. If you're unwilling or unable to make one yourself, these are actually pretty expensive to produce, with artists charging several hundreds of dollars for designing a Live2D rig. Looking at some of them it's not hard to see why; they're often immaculately designed, with moving mouths, eyes, hair, clothing and limbs all created as their own assets and rigged in Live2D (a program far beyond my primative comprehension and understanding) to create an avatar that really does look like one of my Japanese animes come to life.
It doesn't even end with getting an avatar of your own, though. For the tracking to work you'll need a webcam, or at least a decent smartphone to use as a camera. Want your avatar to use animations or emote presets? You'll probably want one of them fancy Streamdecks unless you want to assign hotkeys to your keyboard like a peasant. Not to mention you'll need a good PC as a baseline to stream modern games and for it to run well whilst doing it.
This is why I was actually surprised how easy it is to create simple crude vtuber avatars (or at least things that resemble it) which makes it much less daunting to try out, especially if you're not someone who streams regularly and aren't trying to become a "professional" streamer. In particular many streamers, refered to often as 'pngtubers' use simple images with basic animations as their avatar rather than fully rigged models which, while very basic, is still surprisingly versatile. I will list some of the ones I've encountered and used in order of ease of use and technicallity. Who knows, maybe some of you might find these useful and inspire yourself to try making your own virtual persona for fun!
OBS Image Reaction
By far the easiest, most basic form of creating an animated avatar of yourself. This is a simple OBS plugin that simply displays one image whilst detecting mic input and another image when it detects no mic input. It's what I use for my Slippy Toad avatar and works perfectly fine for what it is. As it's a plugin built directly into OBS it requires no additional software, just load it up on your overlay and enjoy!
veadotube mini
A simple, lightweight program that performs a similar function to OBS Image Reaction, but with additional features including basic animations to make your avatar slightly more dynamic, including blinking and animating the png or image around during different states. It also supports different "states", so you can create variations of your avatar (for example, for different facial expressions) and assign them to hotkeys to spice things up a bit more.
HONK
Increasing with complexity, HONK allows you to animate your pngtuber avatar further with lip syncing. By drawing the avatar with more mouth shapes and assigning them to the lip sounds it'll react more convincingly to your voice. Like veadotube, it also allows for states for different emotions and whatever, and it also can animate the avatar slightly by adding bounce or rotation to the talking to make it seem more dynamic. Not only this, it supports mouse tracking for the eyes too. It does cost money to purchase and use, but I think the price is quite reasonable.
These programs are fine for pngtubers, but what about if you want a 3D avatar? What about if you, like me, have no knowledge of 3D modelling, and the only Blender you've used is the kind that turns fruit into delicious smoothies? No need to worry, because there's a program designed specifically to create cute 3D anime girls (and boys).
VRoid
Created by Pixiv, Vroid allows you to create an anime avatar in a similar vein to something like The Sims. It's simple to use yet also very versatile, and though you can cobble together something basic with the premade assets and settings, once you learn a bit more on how it works you can create your own clothings, hair style and and other things to create something very personalised. The main limitation with the program, however, is that it's catered to creating pretty anime characters. If you wanted something else that doesn't fit into that stereotype, you might have mixed results. Vroid creates 'VRM avatars' that can actually be imported and used in a variety of other apps and programs, including (with some conversion and work) fully functional VRChat avatars. For the purposes of vtubing, though, there's a couple of programs I tried out.
VMagicMirror
This is a program that projects your VRM avatar onto the desktop, and animates it automatically using your microphone and keyboard/controller input. The program does have some webcam functionality for head tracking, but it's not required. It can even animate your VRM avatar using a keyboard, game controller, pen tablet and even a fight stick, and will have your avatar mimic your button inputs onscreen, which is very fun.
LIV
This isn't really for vtubing on a budget as this is for VR streaming, and VR headsets are pretty pricy, but I'll still include it for it's ease of use. It allows you to project your avatar directly into the game itself, with it working for quite a few VR games. It was originally designed for 'mixed reality' streaming where you can use a webcam to record yourself in front of a green screen and superimpose yourself into the game, but also supports the use of 3D avatars. This is mainly for if you want to stream a VR game but want your audience to see a 3rd person view point rather than making them motion sick by seeing what you're seeing. There's a number of avatars you can create and use for this program, but I mainly included it as it fully supports VRM avatars.
This is by no means a comprehensive list; this is simply what I discovered in my limited exploration while I was, as was put by someone on my stream once, V-curious. If you're willing to use a webcam it's also worth looking into things like Facerig, VNyan and VeeSeeFace. I know Vtubing has been around for a while so I'm probably way behind on the curve, but if you too are V-curious I hope this little article was useful.
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amiryllisthorn · 1 year
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lil mechs, me and a few friends of mine were talking about trying to salvage whats left of my original mech game because I killed the original narrative  and so started working on translating this design in to pixels the idea for this one was kinda like a cross between a mad dog and a catapult from battletech. the second version however has much less influence in its ideas and is a more medium version of the first.
 Think I might have lost some of the original technical info from the setting, but its supposed to function as a fire support/command mech, featuring a pair of heavy caliber autocannons for long range, and rapid fire smaller caliber for lighter targets/closer engagements.
The Farlar like to make robust equipment  with robust but cutting edge tech. Like extra viewing cameras or built in laser range finders to better hit targets from longer range, or linking pilots to their machines for better reaction etc.
But they wont go as far as to design very complicated mechs that are more people like in their design, like with fully functioning arms and such, the current Federated Republics of Farlar are more than happy to keep up this standard of mech design.
The medium version sheds a lot of the heavier guns, machine guns, and missiles for lasers and twin 40 mm gun mounts. They are meant to close the distance and overwhelm their opponents with overwhelming firepower and often run very hot due to the sheer amount of weapons on their frame.
I might try and dig up some of the Skattari Collective mech designs because those are a bit more fun and interesting, but other Factions Like The Imperial Vestige just use old Farlar mechs that they made off with, and anything they can capture or salvage
Whereas Ostilyia will just make whatever designs they can buy or whatever they make for export and have fewer domestic models because a significant part of their economy revolves around making weapons for other people.
These are some of the main factions in the current game I am working on, their importance in the mech game was mostly filtered down to what kind of mechs they made, but it is obs much more important in the current one as you are in the FRF specifically.
I dont want to say toooooooooooooooo much to give too much away, but the FRF is just trying to keep everything together after taking power back from the Imperials (now the Vestige who are trying to retake power and sabotage the new democratic government).
also these are def not finished and still need a bunch of work, but not bad translating some older drawings into pixel art in like 2 hours ^^
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Notable Cards of: Streets of New Capenna Part 1/2
Wanted to express my thoughts on the new set. Just my opinions that I felt like documenting somewhere, so might as well be my blog.
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#1: The Triome Cycle
This goes without saying given the triomes already seeing cross format play. This will make mana bases in all formats easier to splash an extra color or two, potentially making it more worthwhile to be in one of the Shard combinations. This is especially true for slower strategies since fast strategies usually can’t afford to be playing tapped lands.
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#2: Luxior, Giada’s Gift
To get one thing out of the way, yes, this combos with Devoted Druid. This is also notable, however, for a select few planeswalkers: The Royal Scions and Basri Ket. These are cheap planeswalkers that have +1 abilities that pump themselves and make them a little more than just vanilla creatures. Combining them with this can make for some fearsome early creatures. This is also notable in Planeswalker helmed EDH decks since many EDH decks run ways to protect their commander or board in general, making a planeswalker’s usual weakness in EDH (being attacked by multiple players) negated.
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#3: Tainted Indulgence
As long as you are willing to splash Black (which is easier due to Triomes), this can be a nice little instant speed Chart a Course. Which is notable for being a card commonly played in Arclight Phoenix decks across formats. Its also just a very nice potential draw 2 for 2 mana if you have ways to fill your graveyard quickly, which is a pretty premium rate outside of some of the strongest cards in Magic’s history.
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#4: Corpse Explosion
This is notably a very solid way for “efficiency” decks to blow up the board if one of their big creatures hit the graveyard. See cards like Death’s Shadow, Tarmogoyf, or Kroxa. Would you rather reanimate those cards? Sure, but sometimes what you actually need is just to stabilize, and this is a very cheap and efficient way to do it. This also hits planeswalkers, so resolving this against a control deck can bring you back into the game since now a days most Control decks win by creating an unbreakable board of multiple planeswalkers.
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#5: Ob Nixilis, the Adversary
This is arguably the strongest potential card in the entire set. Decks like Death’s Shadow, as just one example, regularly have very large creatures to sacrifice to this in order to allow its user to -7 immediately. This can be used to either draw a ton of cards or slap the opponent for 7 life. Even if you can’t do that trick, this is an extremely solid card in any Rakdos sacrifice deck, giving its user a ton of value with the +1 and -2 being doubled and having the planeswalker be much harder to remove. Planeswalkers benefit a ton from having multiple of them out, as it can often force a situation where the opponent really has to just pick their poison.
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#6: Pyre-Sledge Arsonist
A sneaky uncommon with a good bit of value considering the cards coming with it. Magic has slowly been making tons of cards that generate Treasure, making an effect like this potentially very explosive. In EDH, this can easily hit people for double digits worth of damage. Don’t underestimate this when you see it in your pod.
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#7: Angel of Suffering
Notable for its ability to protect and fuel self mill decks. This doesn’t really have a chance in older formats outside of EDH, but where it does have a chance it can do some decent work. Plopping this down and protecting it can make some decks essentially be unable to kill you while it is out, and graveyard decks often need protection in EDH due to how quickly they can become arch-enemy.
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#8: Professional Face-Breaker
Arguably the biggest card for EDH in the main set. The rate of Treasure production combined with the potential card advantage makes this a house in EDH, especially in Prosper decks. I wouldn’t be surprised if this becomes a casual Red staple. Its simple but quite effective.
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#9: Shadow of Mortality
In younger formats, this can just be a big 7/7 that you can hit hard with and sac to Ob Nixilis. In older formats, the extremely high mana value can allow for some crazy combos with Yuriko style cards.
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#10: Vivien on the Hunt
This has a combo with Planebound Accomplice, letting you put Vivien into play, sac Accomplice to get a Felidar Guardian, blink, sac Felidar for Karmic Guide, get back Felidar, blink, sac Felidar for Kiki-Jiki, use Kiki on Karmic Guide, get back Felidar, and then make infinite Kikis with a Felidar combo. Interesting, but needs testing.
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jdgo51 · 9 months
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Core Fear
Today's inspiration comes from:
Good Boundaries and Goodbyes
by Lysa Terkeurst
Editor's note: Good Boundaries and Goodbyes Online Bible Study Online Bible Study by Lysa TerKeurst starts 7/24! Sign up today and join us as we learn how to have biblical boundaries for healthy relationships.
"'What if, when trying to apply your boundaries in an emotionally charged moment, you lose your resolve, because the other person makes statements that confuse you, make you question the validity of this boundary, or accuse you in ways that hurt? You need to be prepared to know what to do.
See if you’ve heard any of these types of statements from others. Assess whether these statements have contributed to you giving up on setting boundaries with certain people.
When they say:
“What I did isn’t that big of a deal. You’re being so dramatic.” “You are being overly sensitive.”
“And you call yourself a Christian?! Jesus wouldn’t treat people this way.”
“I thought Christians were supposed to be forgiving.” “You’ve got such a hard heart. Jesus would have never walked away.”
“This is just more evidence of you being controlling and unforgiving.”
“Jesus loved all people and gave grace no matter what. So, what’s your problem?”
“You don’t seem like yourself. You’ve changed.”
“I’m so disappointed in you.”
“You’re just crazy and this is irrational.”
“You’re so selfish. All you care about is yourself.” “Seriously?! How can you be so mean after all I’ve done for you?”
“You’re so off base. Drawing boundaries isn’t biblical.” “But you’re my (wife, daughter, best friend, mother, sister). Acting this way toward me is out of order and unacceptable.”
Here’s why these statements are so triggering:
They are offensive. They aren’t an accurate picture of what’s true about who we are. Being misunderstood is so brutal because someone else is taking liberties with our identity. They are threatening. When someone makes hurtful accusations and pushes against our boundaries, it can feel as if whatever this relationship is providing for us will be taken away and some need in us will go unmet. They are disillusioning. When someone else makes us question our need for the boundary, we can second-guess reality, our sanity, our rationality, and even the severity of what’s really going on. We can easily start to wonder if the real problem is us rather than considering the source and why we are in this hard dynamic in the first place. Join the OBS It is so very important that we are aware of all three of these feelings that can make us vulnerable to not establishing wise boundaries. Here’s the first thing we need to notice about the effects of these triggering statements: they are each evidence that we need to establish a boundary with this person.
And here’s the second thing to notice: if we are afraid that this person will think poorly of us, potentially abandon us, or try to make us feel crazy for taking a step toward making the relationship healthy, chances are even higher that, without wise boundaries, they will eventually do all three of these things to us. (Dear me: read that last sentence one more time... maybe ten more times.)
Unhealthy people typically don’t manage their emotions and expectations (self-regulate) very well and can easily get offended when their lack of responsibility doesn’t become your emergency. Their thought process is often that their need trumps your limitations. And the telltale sign of their unhealthiness is their unwillingness to accept no as an answer without trying to make you feel terrible, punished, or unsure about the necessity of the boundary.
If we want to stay healthy, we have to use our limited energy in the right way. We could waste years putting all our efforts into trying to change the other person’s mind or prove to them why we need the boundary, or worst of all, we could drop the boundary altogether and continue living in dysfunction.
Let me state something crucial. I don’t want us to suddenly start categorizing everyone around us as healthy or not healthy. But we must pay attention to those who accept our healthy boundaries and those who resist them.
The apostle Paul addresses some key components to love:
And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ.
What I like about Philippians 1:9–10 is that the love here is associated with knowledge and discernment. So, the inverse is also true. A lack of wisdom and discernment is actually unloving. Sometimes we only associate love as a feeling. But we have to remember that biblical love is an intentional action where we want what’s best for us and the other person. Keeping this in mind, when setting boundaries our heart posture should be one of wisdom and discernment for the sake of true and healthy love.
Healthy people who desire healthy relationships don’t have an issue with other people’s healthy boundaries.
Hebrews 5:14 reminds us that mature people “have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” That word distinguish means someone can discern more readily what is the right way to treat someone and what is not acceptable. What someone should say and what someone probably shouldn’t say. And just because a person can do something, doesn’t mean she should do that thing. Discerning and choosing one’s actions carefully leads to a wisdom that those around them can trust.
People not liking our boundary does not mean we aren’t living right before God.
Healthy people are mature people. They seek to understand your concerns, discuss any issues that the need for the boundary reveals, and respect your limits. Remember, healthy people who desire healthy relationships know how to be responsible with the access you give them. For example, if they borrow your car, chances are they won’t return it on empty. But if they do, you can let them know that if they want to borrow it again, they just need to replace the gas they use. And they should see that as a reasonable request without making you feel anything less than generous.
Even if someone doesn’t like a boundary you have set, healthy people know the difference between hurt and harm. A friend who constantly runs late may feel hurt that you are no longer willing to ride with her to events but can recognize your boundary wasn’t put in place to cause her any harm. She won’t think that you’re selfish and rude. Nor will she blame her issues on you. And she certainly won’t diminish your identity, disrupt your safety, or disregard your assessment of reality. She’ll either adjust her untimeliness and ride with you or just meet you at the event. Either way, she will respect you enough to respect your boundaries.
Healthy people understand your limits because they are in touch with their own limitations. They communicate what they can and cannot do — what they are and are not willing to tolerate. And they expect you to do the same.
Understanding this can help us realize sometimes the problem isn’t that we aren’t good at setting healthy boundaries. Maybe we aren’t good at recognizing that we won’t get healthy results from unhealthy relationships.
Somewhere in all the looking around at others for validation, we’ve stopped looking up.
If we are living honest lives that honor God, we must not forget that people not liking our boundary does not mean we aren’t living right before God. When someone says something that hurts or offends us when we draw a boundary, it can be good to check ourselves. Is any part of this an attempt on our part to do harm, control, retaliate, check out, or give ourselves permission to be irresponsible? While checking ourselves is healthy, questioning our identity is not.
Checking ourselves means looking at a current attitude or behavior to see if it is in line with God’s instructions and wisdom. Questioning our identity is doubting who we are because we have given too much power to other people by letting their opinions define us.
I don’t know any other way to say this except to be absolutely direct: If our identity, the foundational belief we hold of who we are, is tied to an opinion someone has of us, we need to reassess. We must be honest with how much access to our heart we’ve given to this person. It’s not bad to give someone access to our heart but when we give an unhealthy person too much access, it can shake us to our core. When their opinion of us starts to affect how we see ourselves, we can lose sight of the best parts of who we are because we get entangled in the exhausting pursuit of trying to keep that relationship intact no matter the cost. And when this is the cycle we are caught in, sometimes we would rather manage people’s perceptions of us than care for ourselves and the relationship by putting appropriate boundaries in place.
When we give people personal access to us, those people must be responsible with it. And emotional access to our hearts is especially important.
Excerpted with permission from Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lysa TerKeurst, copyright Lysa TerKeurst.
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kierianpattonphoto · 1 year
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Response
After the incredibly striking and informative talk we had regarding Glasgow's past in relation to tobacco lords and much more. The point of the brief was to see what you could draw upon for inspiration to then develop an idea. For example, it was a very wet day and everyone got soaked by the rain, therefore you could do a series about rain. Or, the guides touched upon Robert Burns poetry and the hidden meanings behind some of his work, therefore you could do a photo series on poetry. 
My initial idea is to do something related to the rain as i had previously seen some images from the photographer Christophe Jacrot. His series ‘wet scotland’ was beautiful, he placed a plane of glass in front of the lens and allowed it to get very wet and then shoot landscapes with the glass in front of the lens to create a painterly effect, it was very reminiscent of the artist ‘monet’’s paintings, below i will include a mood-board. 
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I liked the idea of shooting concrete pavements or floors as you would get a really nice reflection from them whether it be traffic lights, car headlights or even if the clouds if it isnt over cast. But, the tricky part is finding a suitable surface that isnt too textured such as tarmac or tiles. If you look at the top right image on the mood board that is a prime example of the type of surface i would ideally like to find, something with little to no texture and holds the rain well. 
Test shots - 
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I think my test shots came out alright despite quickly shooting them on my phone. But my biggest issue is was finding a suitable road or pavement with the texture i need, i looked around Glasgow’s city centre for a few hours and i couldnt find anything that suited my needs, i think this is reflective upon the engineering and design if glasgows and pavement, As you will know scotland gets very cold, therefore we need surfaces that can stand up to the cold and can stand up to the heat of the summer. Therefore we create textured and hard surfaces that re mixed in with small rock chips like the pavement above so that they wont crack or degrade over time.
But, if you look at the image of paris on the top right of my mood board, since its a hot climate most of the year their roads and pavement's can be smoother and less textured as it does not rain as often, therefore you can get the desired effect.
Idea change 
Due to this i’m going to change my idea completely. I was reminded of an article that the bbc posted a while back which was discussing how during the george floyd protests in glasgow that activists had placed temporary street names below the usual large and old street names in the city centre. The temporary street names that were placed were named after famous political figures such as rosa parks and more recently named after Sheku Bayoh after he passed away due to an incident with the police.
The whole point of this activism was to educate people on why some streets were named after people and who these people were. For example, buchanan street was named after wealthy plantation owner and tobacco lord, Andrew Buchanan. 
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Id like to create an image or a few images that can symbolise peoples lack of knowledge when it comes to Glasgows past history and what it was a part of. For example, when i first read the article i was very surprised and intrigued about the history of these street names. When i spoke to others about this they also did not know about the meanings behind some of the street names or much about glasgows involvement with tobacco exports and plantation owners.
Mood board 2 - 
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Plan - 
I have decided to shoot two images that both show the lack of understanding and knowledge about glasgows past involvement with the tobacco lords and how alot of people dont know the hidden meaning behind some of the street names. My idea is to shoot a long exposure during the day on buchanan street and Cochrane street featuring the street name. I would like to include people and cars in the frame of them moving past the street name, obviously since it is a long exposure people will be blurry and lack any distinct features, this is to symbolise that it could be any member of the public that has the lack of awareness about the history of these streets. 
Locations - 
As i previously mentioned i will be shooting on Buchanan Street and Cochrane street, but one of the biggest keys is for the image to feature the large street sign thats typically plastered onto the wall of the opposing building. If i dont include the street name it defeats the purpose of the image and turns into a regular long exposure. 
Buchanan Street - Top Down 
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Buchanan Street - 3D Streetlevel - 
Where i have placed my marker is where i plan on shooting. This is because it is a very busy crosswalk which will alow me to capture a lot of people crossing and a few cars going by. But, the most important thing is that on one of the buildings, specifically the apple one it has a large sign that reads buchanan street.
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Cochrane street - Top Down 
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Cochrane street - 3D Streetlevel -
This is the angle i plan on shooting from as on the side of city chambers features a large sign displaying the street name. I did have a walk around city chambers attempting to find other corners with the same streetname but this is the only suitable one i could find as it had a good amount of foot traffic.
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Equipment - 
Since i am doing a long exposure i will obviously require a tripod and since it is during the day i also plan on getting a variable ND filter from the college store. I do have my own filter but unfortunately it is a cheap one and decreases the sharpness of the image rather noticeably. lens wise i plan on using my 24-70 2.8 as it is variable zoom therefore i wont need to be swapping and changing lenses while im shooting. Im planning on using this lens not only for the variable zoom but for my equipment safety, im always mindful in using my expensive gear in public especially if i have a bag or two with me that i need to place somewhere. 
Shooting - 
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After shooting for just over an hour i was able to gain the images i was after. Since it was such a simple image for both streets that i needed i had to make sure i nailed it. One of the biggest factors for me was making sure the framing was correct, baring in mind the street sign was the biggest highlight of the image. Secondly, i had to make sure i had the correct amount of blur. What i mean by this is that if i shot a 30 second exposure i would see very faint outlines of people if not see any of them at all. So dialling in the exposure time was pivotal to my success. I settled on an exposure time of 0.6s which was the perfect amount of time to get enough blur so that there i sno defining features on the subjects but also enough to still make out they were humans and to add a bit of shape to my image.
Images - 
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It was straightforward picking out what images i wanted, my final submission was going to be two images. What i was looking for was images that made the street sign the highlight of the whole image and for the people to be blurry but still retain some shape. 
Submission images - 
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These are the two images that I have chosen to submit, these are out of camera raws with no edits. Obviously the images need some work such as straightening and cropping. 
The reason why i have chosen these two as my finals is that they are both visually similar. What i mean by this is the main wall cuts off on the left of the frame in both images and both street signs are mounted on their respective buildings. I am very happy with how my human subjects turned out with the 0.6s exposure, this exposure time was the sweet spot for creating the look i was after. 
Rejected Images - 
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Image 1 - 
This image is a prime example of where the exposure time was far too long, in this case it was 10 seconds. By having the exposure time this long it has allowed unwanted highlights and textures in the road which is a bit too distracting and also the fact the buchanan street sign is too small in the image. 
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Image 2 - 
I was thinking of shooting this series in landscape but the issue was that the street signs are roughly 30 feet off the ground. To get people and have the sign visible enough was near enough impossible, the framing would’nt create the composition i was after. 
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Image 3 - 
This is a prime example of what i meant above, if i got closer to the sign i could fit in less people walking by. If i went further away, you wouldn’t be able to read the sign.
Editing - 
So i tested out both of my final images in both colour and black and white and straight away i preferred black and white. This is because since both of the images are in the city centre there are a lot of colours and patterns which take away from the images a whole. By converting them to black and white i am able to shift the focus more onto the blurred human subjects and the street sign. 
Image 1 
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Image 2 
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Final Edits - 
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Conclusion / Evaluation - 
Firstly I did find this brief overall quite tricky due to the open nature of the brief and how it comes down to how you interpreted the day. It was the idea that your images did not need to be on the topics that were discussed by the guides but it could also be on certain aspects of the day. In this case, some people concentrated on the rain as it was extremely wet that day and a lot of people got soaked. I was originally going to do my response project on the rain, but with reasons out with my control I was unable too. My rain idea was photographing the streets and roads just after it rained heavily so I could capture the myriad of colours and shadows on the ground, I was inspired by the great paintings of ‘Monet’ and how he captured water and interpreted shapes and colours. My second artist I used for inspiration was ‘Christophe Jacrot’, his often melancholic yet visually striking featured landscapes with a pane of glass over his lens which creates a watercolour painting effect. I then decided to change my idea as I could not get the proper effects and images I was after.
I changed my idea to two images that would symbolise the lack of understanding when it came to the history of Glasgow and what It was associated with. I would deem this idea successful as what I set out to achieve I managed to do. Which was create two images featuring peoples movement with a slow exposure which I meant to symbolise how people pass these streets daily and don’t know what the story is behind them and since the subjects are blurred out due to the exposure time it symbolises that the subjects could be anyone, it could be you or even your friends due to the subjects in the image having no defining features.
Overall I would deem this project to be challenging at times regarding coming up with a suitable idea or response to the brief. I think I struggled to come up with an idea as I previously said was due to how open ended the brief was. If I was to go back and redo the brief I would re-visit where we had the tour in order to visually see the statues and cathedral again to gain an idea of what could be done.
In terms of shooting I am happy with the results I came out with as they for the inspiration I was previously looking at. It didn’t take much time actually shooting in the streets to create two images I was pleased about, I deem this to be due to the fact I did a lot of planning in my online workbook to figure out what streets would work the best, I also went for a look around the streets and surrounding areas for suitable angles and potential compositions.
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wellnessandhealing · 2 years
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What is pleasure? How is it defined? Who gets to experience pleasure? As an incomplete quadriplegic of nearly 37 years and a chronic pain patient of over 20 years, these are questions I still wrestle with.
Some people think pleasure is sexual. But what is that pleasure when society sees you as incapable of having sex or even being sexy? It’s only recently that we’ve seen disability representation in ads for lingerie brands like Fenty and Aerie. Infantilization of disabled bodies is long-standing, as is lack of access to comprehensive sexual health education and accessible examination tables for OB-GYN. Even our tatas can’t be saved, because too often mammograms are inaccessible to non-ambulatory disabled people.
In the realm of dating, there is story after story of disabled people being dismissed—especially by cisgender heterosexual men—with the question “Are you even capable of having sex?” 
Because I was injured when I was very young, I went through the medicalization of my body at an early age. The only time I was taught to touch my privates was for catheterization or to allow a doctor to examine me. Without comprehensive sexual health education, this medicalization leads to a dissociation from your body. You only see your body as serving for perfunctory things like using the bathroom. 
Recently, I modeled for a nude figure drawing event with Figure on Diversity. I talked about how the medicalization of my body meant that I felt uncomfortable showing my body in a figure drawing class, but that if the artists were a bunch of doctors, I would have no problem getting undressed. Medicalization can lead to the same issues with intimate relationships, so part of the journey I’m on is rediscovering my body in different ways. I even posed in nude-toned lingerie, covered in paint, for the chapbook series In This Moment. I never saw fat, queer, Black, disabled bodies in art when I was younger, so I felt it was critical to push myself out of my comfort zone and be the representation I wish I had seen when I was growing up.
Pleasure, for me, is so much more than sex and intimacy with one other person. I find it unfortunate that society puts this box around human desire and pleasure. One of the principles of disability justice teaches us that we are whole human beings. But how can one explore various avenues of pleasure when cities aren’t accessible? When even going out to eat means contending with inaccessible high chairs and high tables? The simple pleasure of going for a bike ride on a summer day is one I didn’t get to have with my family until my late 20s. Many disabled people who are wheelchair users or have mobility impairments do not get to have ordinary outdoor pleasures like a bike ride, a kayak ride, or even grabbing an ice cream. The infrastructure is just not there. Mia Mingus coined the term “access intimacy,” which involves the social relationships we have if disabled people can show up and enjoy activities just like anyone else. In the time of COVID-19 and social distancing, this is more important than ever—and still being denied. 
Pleasure can be having a shower aided by a skilled caregiver who is paid fairly and deeply understands your needs. But this is a fantasy in a country where home health aides and personal care attendants are not valued for their skills and do not even make a living wage.
Pleasure can be visiting friends or family at a house that’s fully accessible and where you can use the bathroom with ease. But how is this possible when less than 1% of housing in the United States is accessible? Affordable and accessible is not how we routinely do housing.
Pleasure is playing with the children in your life, or even just being a silly adult, at a fully accessible playground. But there are only a handful of accessible playgrounds in the U.S. 
Pleasure is being able to leave your home when you want, as you want. But how is that possible with subpar paratransit services, the high expense of adaptive vehicles, and public transportation that consistently ignores the needs of disabled people?
Pleasure is expressing yourself as the whole human being you are. But regressive policies and laws that target LGBTQ people, lack of inclusion within fashion, and lack of inclusion within society at large stifle that pleasure.
All human beings have the right to experience pleasure, but pleasure can be a privilege. In January, the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, citing a study about vaccine effectiveness, said the “really encouraging news in the context of omicron” was that 75% of deaths “occurred in people who had at least four comorbidities,” adding that “these are people who were unwell to begin with.” In other words, disabled people. We are now lifting mask mandates and going back to work as if COVID were no longer there. That callousness toward my disabled life makes it even more important for me to seize every opportunity for pleasure I can get.
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berriusagi · 3 years
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Stomach Bug Ch1
Morning Sickness
idea from @beautiful-disasters-sunshine this is the first fanfic I’ve written in years. If it’s bad let me know I’m just trying my best since I like this idea. In this fic Mari and Dami are 17/18 and Hawkmoth has been defeated so there’s no fighting during this pregnancy. dialog heavy so sorry in advance.
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The rare occurrence of a quiet and peaceful morning was always nice to have in a city like Gotham where despair and misfortune seemed to thrive. Occasions like this are often cherished but everyone knows to be wary as anything could ruin the moment, such as the retching and coughing coming from the bathroom that had two very concerned women and equally concerned miniature god standing outside the door.
“Marigold, are you okay?” Ivy asked gently knocking on the door wincing as she heard another painful retch from the other side of the door, “Darling open the door please.”
“I’m-” another broken cough was heard breaking the weak voice in the bathroom, “I’m… okay just some food poisoning I think.” 
“Mari sweetie you’ve been puking your guts out for a week.” Harley said leaning on the door frame, “I don’t think it’s just some food poisoning. You need to see a doctor.”
“You’re a doctor,” Marinette said, her sickness seeming to have finally come to an end as she flushed the toilet.
“I’m a psychiatrist hon there’s a big difference.” Harley said looking at Ivy concerned as the sound of running water filled the silence as Marinette brushed her teeth, “We’re taking you to see a doctor if this was just a stomach bug you’d have gotten better by now.”
“She’s right Marinette,” Tikki said, settling onto Ivy’s shoulder as they all watched the door, “It’ll make us all feel better if you just see the doctor.”
Silence filled the area as they all waited for Marinette to reply before a soft sigh was heard and the door clicked open revealing an exhausted young woman, “I don’t want to be a bother.” she mumbled averting her eyes from the two women before her.
Ivy let out a soft sigh moving forward and pulled her close to her chest gently running her fingers through her hair as Tikki floated down to press into Marinette's neck to give her some comfort, “You are and never will be a burden to us, Marigold. We care for you and want the best so please don’t think something as unavoidable as getting sick is a burden.”
“She’s right darling we love you and want you to be safe and healthy so please let us take you to a doctor that’s licensed in medicine,” Harley said, stepping over to hug her effectively squishing Marinette between Ivy and herself.
Marinette closed her eyes and just took a moment to sort through her thoughts and take in the warmth of the two women that adopted her. Her life had been just on the wrong side of crazy for so long, Hawkmoth terrorizing everyone for having emotions, her friends and family turning on her because of one liar determined to ruin her life, having to hide her relationship from not only her very perceptive mothers but her boyfriends equally perceptive and just a touch insane family. All of that and now being sick with something just to put the cherry on top of an already bad situation. “Okay,” she mumbled after a prolonged moment and turned to bury her face into Ivy’s chest and breathed deep taking in the subtle earthy and floral notes that clung to her, “I’ll see a doctor.”
“Thank you,” Ivy smiled gently, kissing the crown of her head, and looked over at Harley with a measured look, “go and get ready and we’ll head on over to the clinic,” she said as both women stepped back to allow her to head over to her room.
Once she was gone and out of earshot Harley leaned over and in a stage whisper said, “10 bucks says she’s pregnant.”
“I’d disagree if not for the fact she’s trying to hide her relationship with the Wayne brat.” Ivy chuckled, shaking her head, “Let's hope it is just a stomach bug and not a stomach bug .” she said giving Harley a look as they went to change into more civilian clothing so as not to draw attention to themselves. 
The three women made their way into a small clinic and got checked in taking a seat in the corner out of the way of others. Marinette was seated between the two nervous and practically sweating bullets as she gripped her sweater while her mind raced. A soft pressing on her thigh from Tikki gave her some ease as she stared down at her trembling hands. What if she was really sick and the financial cost would put her mothers in debt? What if she wasn’t sick and this was all a waste of time? What if they already think she’s being a burden and are waiting for her to get called in so they can leave her? What if-
“Miss. Isley-Quinzel?” A nurse called cutting through Marinette's internal struggle.
“Ah here!” she said jumping up her face beat red as she quickly made her way over to the nurse with her mothers following close behind.
“I’m sorry only one of you can come back.” The nurse said looking at the two women.
“I’ll stay this article was gettin good,” Harley said flopping back down into her seat and reopened the gossip rag she was reading. Ivy shook her head smiling and placed a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder and walked with her into the small room.
“So Miss what are you in for today?” the nurse asked closing the door so they could all have privacy and took a seat.
“I’ve been throwing up for the past week,” Marinette said taking a seat on the paper-lined table keeping her head down.
“Any other symptoms?” the nurse asked looking over the file in her hands, “fever, headaches, muscle pain?” they asked.
“No nothing like that… I have been getting more sick after eating, maybe I have food poisoning?” Marinette asked.
“Are you sick after eating every time or only certain foods?” the nurse asked.
“I’m not sure I haven’t paid much attention to what I eat that’s causing me to be sick,” she mumbled.
The nurse nodded making some notes, “well just to rule it out I’ll need you to take a pregnancy test.” they said, grabbing a little plastic cup and handing it to Marinette, “bathroom is just to the right of this room go fill this cup and we’ll see if we can get you some answers.” they smiled and opened the door to let Marinette out.
Marinette turned scarlet and then pale as she walked out of the room and went to the bathroom. Ivy watched her leave before pulling out her phone and sent a quick text to Harley, ‘Marigold is taking a pregnancy test. She looks terrified.’
‘I really think she’s pregnant. She’s been sick and she’s been turning away from some of her favorite foods.’ Harley shot back after a few moments.
Ivy nodded putting her phone away as Marinette came back and took her seat on the table once more. She seemed to be running through the worst possible scenarios as her face slowly morphed from a sickly pale to an even sicklier green as they waited for the nurse to return with the results. 
What felt like hours to Marinette was only a few minutes as a doctor came in smiling softly to Marinette and Ivy. “Hello, I’m Doctor Beau.” She smiled pulling a seat over and looked over the file given, “You came in for problems with nausea?”
“Yes, my daughter has been throwing up all week and we’re concerned,” Ivy said as it looked like Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak without being sick again.
“It is quite concerning and as you know we do have to rule out certain options before we can administer tests.” Dr. Beau nodded looking over the files once more, “The pregnancy test we had your daughter take came back positive.” she said gently trying to gauge the two women.
Marinette went stock still as tears began to well in her eyes clouding her vision as her world seemed to come crashing down around her. Ivy moved quickly to stand by Marinette wrapping her up in a hug and stroked her hair and back. “It’s okay Marigold,” she soothed, grabbing some tissues to clean her face, “It’s going to be okay just breathe.”
“I can’t tell you what to do Miss.” Dr. Beau said, gaining Marinette’s attention, “However, I can give you some pamphlets and a referral to a nice OB-GYN, they can help you make the choice best for you.” she smiled gently getting up and wrote a quick script before handing it to Ivy along with some pamphlets. 
Everything after seemed to happen in a blur. Marinette didn’t fully process anything until she was being seated on a soft couch and felt two bodies pressing firmly to either side of her. “Mari, sweetie, please talk to us.” Harley’s accented voice softly sounded from her left broke the dam on her emotions as she let out a broken sob.
“I’m- I’m sorry.” she cried curling in on herself as the two women quickly wrapped her up in a firm hug as Tikki pressed into her cheek all three talking over each other trying to soothe her.
“Marigold it happens.” Ivy said gently holding her face, “We’re not mad, disappointed, or upset with you.” she said wiping her face, “We are here to help you and support you in any decision you decide to make.”
“Do ya know who the daddy is?” Harley asked gently, rubbing her back trying to get her to settle down just a bit. Marinette took a shaky breath, her face blotchy and nose stuffy as she nodded her head, “Here’s what we’re gonna do okay hon. I’m goin to go make you some calming tea and you are goin to call your boyfriend and tell him to come over here. Okay?” she asked looking in Mari’s eyes.
Marinette nodded scrubbing her face with her sleeve as Tikki pulled her phone up for her to take.
~.~.~.~
On the other side of Gotham seated for breakfast and contemplating the benefits of mass homicide, Damian was eating his food as his family did their best to make him go off the deep end.
“I’m just saying!” Jason said munching on some bacon, “Maybe if he got laid he wouldn’t have a stick so far up his a-”
“That is enough Jason,” Bruce stated firmly as he rubbed his eyes exhaustion clearly written all over his face.
“You just don’t want to hear my reasoning,” Jason said flicking a piece of toast at him.
“No, I want to remain ignorant of my child's sex life. I already had to deal with Dick telling me everything I rather not hear your speculations.” He glared as the table fell silent for a few blissful moments as they all turned to look at a shameless Dick who just smiled and shrugged before a loud ringing cut through and all eyes turned to Damian as he pulled out his phone.
“Hello?” he asked his usual annoyance bleeding through before he seemed to pause as the other person on the line spoke, “What’s happening?” he asked as he quickly got to his feet, worry clear on his face as he rushed out of the room, “I’m coming habibti please stop crying.” was the last thing the other Wayne’s heard before the front door slammed shut.
“What...” Jason started staring wide-eyed at where Damian just vanished through
“...just happened?” Dick finished looking just as confused before everyone turned to look at Bruce for his reaction.
“Habibti means my love,” Bruce said in lieu of an answer as they all then turned to look at Tim as he tapped away on a tablet.
“Already tracking him,” Tim said as silence settled back over the room as everyone tried to process what just happened. In the opinion of everyone gathered it took much too long for Tim to tell them where Damian left in such a hurry before finally looking up at everyone and said, “He’s at Harley and Ivy’s.”
~.~.~.~
Damian quickly knocked on the door, his clothes a little disheveled and his hair a bit messy from his mad dash across the city to the apartment housing the Isley-Quinzels. Ivy opened the door and stepped aside to allow him to enter and watched as he ran over to Marinette who was on her fourth cup of calming tea her tears now dry but her mind still frazzled.
“Habibti, are you okay?” he asked, dropping in front of her as her eyes began to well with a new wave of tears, and sobs began to wrack her small body once more. Damian quickly picked her up holding her close and rubbed her back as she choked out apologies sobbing into his shoulder. “Habibti, you're making me really worried; what happened?” he asked, trying to get her to look at him.
Marinette took a slow shaky breath before pulling back and looked at him, her bluebell eyes filled with unshed tears before she softly croaked out, “I’m... pregnant.” 
Damian’s eyes widened just slightly as he took in what she said a cold chill settling over his body as he stumbled back falling into the chair Harley quickly moved behind him to catch him. Marinette let out another sob and moved to get out of his hold only for him to hold onto her tighter, “You’re pregnant?” he asked just above a whisper as he stared through her.
She nodded biting her lip hard as she waited for him to shout, shove her away, anything to show his anger. Instead, he pulled her even closer burying his face in her neck, and let out a shaky laugh, “You’re pregnant.” he muttered, “I- I’m going to be a father.” he said, pulling back to look at her.
Tension seemed to leave Marinette like snow melting at the beginning of spring as she weakly smiled at him nodding, “If...” she coughed to clear her throat and scrubbed her face with her sleeve again to look at him, “If you want to...” she mumbled.
“Of course I want to Habibti.” Damian breathed hugging her tightly before pulling back to look down at her stomach and gently ran his fingers over the covered flesh, “I can’t believe this.” he muttered looking at her with awe.
Harley and Ivy smiled watching the two have their heartfelt moment before deciding to break it, “What’s your dad gonna say?” Harley asked cutting through the tender moment with as much grace as a blunt axe.
Damian felt another cold wave wash over him at the mention of his father as his eyes widened, “My family doesn’t know about you.” he muttered looking at Marinette.
“They’re going to think I did this to trap you,” Marinette mumbled her face going to a sickly green as she shoved her way out of Damian's arm and ran into the bathroom slamming it shut as retching filled the apartment once more.
“You have to tell them.” Harley said watching Damian, “before she starts showing she’s small so it’ll be obvious soon enough.”
The apartment fell into silence with the only sound being Marinette’s morning sickness for a long while before a ringing cut through and Damian pulled out his phone. Father clear as day showing on the screen for the awaiting call. Damian stared at it until it went silent and then lit up with another incoming call from Bruce. “I have to answer don’t I?” he asked looking over at Ivy and Harley.
“Unless you want them all stormin in here then yeah,” Harley said, sipping some of the tea she made for Marinette.
Damian sighed and took a deep breath before answering the call, “Hello father.”
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(image description: eight sketchbook drawings of characters holding a variety of pride flags, all nude and posed in ways that match some old fine art pieces. The nudity has been censored with cute digital flower stickers. end description.)
Characters:
Dalmar, intersex man. Kouto, nonbinary. Chacha, agender. Parva, nonbinary. Xulic and Kidron, genderqueer. Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, genderqeer. Olli, demiguy. Sajak, genderqueer.
Genderqueer is kind of my default for "well, biologically and culturally, they already don't have binary sex or gender, so they kinda default to genderqueer." And I know maybe some people will be bothered by that, but it's just part of the worldbuilding I've written around all these non-human and frequently non-mammalian species of people.
The uncensored version is on my Patreon page. I do have one more drawing to add to this series, but since it's four child characters I will not need to worry about adding any censors and keeping the original image only on my patreon, as they will simply be wearing their pride flags as whole outfits.
The previous part of this, my binary trans characters, can be found over here.
detailed character descriptions and explanations of the pose references under the cut
Dalmar Ubora, a black intersex elf man with short black hair. He is holding his arms up as he holds the intersex flag, mimicking the pose of Virgin Mary from Titian's painting "The Assumption of the Virgin". The shading was washed out by the photo, but his belly is still clearly round from pregnancy. Dalmar is an interesting case, in that he was assigned male at birth based on his outward appearance, continues to identify as male throughout his life, but finds during puberty that what was believed to be an undeveloped penis was actually just a non functional body part. Instead, what actually developed to full functionality was his uterus. He still identifies as a straight cis man, and has come to terms with his body. He is married to a medically transitioned trans woman, and he could undergo operations to change his body if he wanted to. Instead, he has embraced his body and even birthed some children who were conceived via sperm donations. This is why I wanted a Mary pose for him, and this painting in particular is about Mary being welcomed into heaven as a blessed holy woman. Dalmar may not be a miraculous holy figure, but there is a reverence in the way he has come to love his body and chosen to bear children, including the surrogate birth of his brother's child.
Kouto Hayashi-Loryck, a slender nonbinary elf with black hair tied into a bun. They are holding the nonbinary flag and standing in the pose of a statue known as "Apollo Belvedere", which is so old no one knows the artist's name. One arm raised, one lowered, legs in the relaxed contrapposto pose. Kouto is an artist and an art model. Apollo is a god of the arts, and regarded as a beautiful and sexual figure. Kouto is bisexual and admittedly a very sexual and flirtatious person. They did settle into a happy marriage though (actually they are Dalmar's in-law and the sperm donor for the aforementioned surrogate birth.) Marriage has not stopped Kouto's flirtations, merely limited their targets to a singular person. It felt right to give him this pose, from a pretty well known portrayal of Apollo. Beauty, art, and sex, all defining traits of Apollo and Kouto alike, all present in a pose where the figure seems to be reaching for something above them.
Chacha Faraji, an agender black elf with short hair. They are facing away from the viewer, seated on a stool that is covered by the draped agender flag. No physical traits that could betray their agab are visible. Chacha is sitting in the pose of Reubens' painting "Venus at the Mirror". The arm closest to the viewer ends at the elbow, while they hold a mirror in front of their face with their one whole arm. Their face is seen reflected, smiling, little wrinkles visible by their eyes. I chose this painting in part because it did allow me to obscure Chacha's agab. They were my first nonbinary character, and I never really settled on an agab. But also, I enjoy putting characters who have unconventional bodies into poses associated with Venus or Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. Chacha is missing half an arm, they are getting older and it shows in the wrinkles on their face. Chacha is also Aromantic and Asexual, the full queer triple A battery. The mirror pose has become an independence of beauty. "Look but don't touch." Chacha is beautiful, and they do not need to be beautiful for anyone but themself.
Parva Turbatus, a white nonbinary elf with shoulder length curly hair that has been shaved down on the far side of their head. They are holding the nonbinary flag, standing in the slightly closed off pose found in Paul Gariot's painting "Pandora's Box". One hand on their chest, one hand held out to hold the flag. They have top surgery scars on their chest and a c-section scar on their navel, though all of these have unfortunately been hidden by the flower censors. I chose a pandora pose for Parva because they have one of the most intense tragic backstories of any of my characters. Like Pandora opening the box, they have suffered through many things but came out the other side with Hope, and healing.
Xulic Vos and Kidron Engedi, a drow and a lizard person. They are sharing the genderqueer flag. Xulic has long ears and white hair in a braid, with a white monkey-like tail barely visible behind their legs. Kidron looks like a leopard gecko, and their tail is acting as a visual block in fron of Xulic's groin. They are standing together in the central pose of Raphael's "School of Athens" fresco. Xulic is pointing one hand up to the sky, while Kidron holds one hand palm down towards the earth. Xulic's chest is visibly flat, however I have rewritten the drow as a eusocial people, who's biology has made most of the common population infertile and visibly near identical above the waist. Xulic's agab is unknown to anyone but them, and perhaps their reptilian lover Kidron. Both drow and lizard folk have biology and cultures that do not really support a gender binary, so genderqueer suits them both quite well. I chose the School of Athens pose because these characters are scientists in fields that overlap, and they often get into deep discussions on the matter. Xulic is a paleontologist while Kidron is a geologist, and they have another friend (my protagonist) who studies archaeology.
Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, an elderly goblin with sagging skin and axolotl-like frills on the sides of her head. She grins as she holds the gender queer flag, partly draped over the tall stool she is seated on. Her pose matches that of John Collier's "Priestess of Delphi" painting, which depicts a woman hunched over herself on a stool. Old Obeli Moruga, whose title best translates to "grandmother" is a significant figure in her community, both because of her more practical role as a leader and wise woman, but also because she has gained immortality and become an incarnation of Life Itself, after she was given the offer of such power when she nearly died in the goblin revolution. There are many figures that would suit her. Poses from statues of goddesses, like Athena or Gaia. Perhaps turning away from the theme of greek and roman figures I ended up with for my nonbinary group (dalmar is his own thing) and using the famous painting of Liberty on a battlefield. But now in her old age, all those poses of figures in more active poses, tall and imposing, simply didn't feel right. A wise old woman, hunched on a stool in a pose associated with the idea of an oracle, a priestess, a prophetess, felt much more fitting. (goblin culture does have specific pronouns for leadership, and in the common speech they have decided this translates best to the feminine "she/her")
Olli Moruga, also a goblin with axolotl-like frills, standing with the demiguy flag in his hands. He is in the pose of Michaelangelo's statue of Bacchus, god of wine, merriment, and madness. One hand up as if to salute with a cup, body leaning and perhaps a little unstable. Olli is a gay demiguy, stepping away from the naturally ungendered state of his people to embrace masculinity instead. He is extroverted, loves a good party, and has definitely been a little over his depth with alcohol on many occasions. He knows this is a problem. He used to act rebellious because of it, trying to be cool and aloof, but he has since admitted the truth to himself and now openly seeks help. His trans lover, Zaire (seen in a previous post) has become a great support to him. Even though it may seem odd to use the pose of a god of wine for a character that is trying to overcome an alcohol issue, I still feel like the vibe of Bacchus or Dionysus fits Olli well. He is not only a god of wine, but also of pleasure in general, a concept Olli embraces. Wild joy, perhaps to the point of becoming a little feral, abandoning tradition for personal fulfillment. It is unusual for goblins to embrace a binary gender, even partially. Gendered pronouns do not exist in their tongue, only being used in cases where common speech needs to be used to refer to certain significant figures, such as a leader. It is also unusual for a goblin to take a lover outside their species, since most goblins live in fairly isolated places and all mate together seasonally, depositing their eggs in a communal nursery pool. Olli stands out on purpose.
Lastly, Sajak, an amphibious person with some fish-like features such as their finned ears and a barely visible dorsal fin. They are holding the genderqueer flag as they stand in a commanding pose, one foot on a rock, one arm held out as if pointing to something below them. This pose is taken from the central Poseidon statue in the fountain of Trevi. Their head, arms, and torso are covered in dark tattoos in abstract designs, and they also have a few natural dark stripes along their arms and legs. The obvious connection between Sajak and this statue of Poseidon is that Sajak is a fish person and Poseidon is an ocean god. If I could have thought of a more medical figure, I may have made a different choice in the art reference. Sajak is primarily a doctor, a healer. They are fairly well known and they were an important figure on their home island, though they did leave eventually. Even so, there is a certain vibe to Sajak that suits the image of a powerful and unpredictable oceanic god. They are steady, intelligent, and careful, but they can become fierce when their loved ones are under threat, and the intense focus they show in their work as a doctor can be intimidating to see. There is a feeling of hidden power within Sajak, just as there is in the ocean when it seems calm. Fish folk, whether bipedal and amphibious or fully aquatic, also fit under my category of "non-mammalian people who are just kind of genderqueer by default due to their biology not fitting into a binary".
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glimmerglanger · 3 years
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You asked for this, friend: In the oof!au, Obes is gonna need a new lightsaber isn't he? Or at least will need to heal Anakin's. You have any ideas how that goes?
HE SURE IS. I actually think it’s one of the things he gets around to earlier (so, chronologically he starts working on it before the arm is completed, but finished after). SO:
~~~~~~~~~~
So many things were broken.
Obi-Wan felt the cracks, the aching hurts through the Force; it was a constant kind of pressure, always there. He felt it from his men - even from Rex and Ahsoka, who were not, technically, his, but - and himself and…
And even the lightsaber that he kept in his quarters.
He did not know what Anakin had done to his lightsaber. Perhaps there’d been some grand plan in store for it. Perhaps Anakin had planned to use it to cut off his legs. Or to kill him, when Anakin ran out of ways to amuse himself with Obi-Wan’s body.
Whatever his intentions had been, they could no longer come to fruition. It was gone, along with everything else once placed upon the surface of Mustafar. 
But Anakin’s lightsaber had come with them, had escaped off of the planet and stayed in Obi-Wan’s care. And it radiated agony, out into the Force. It took days - weeks - for Obi-Wan to identify that bit of agony; there was so much else to work through, first.
When he did, he froze for a long moment, staring at the metal cylinder. It was large, larger than he could comfortably hold. Anakin had not been rebuilt to scale, by whatever butchers had tended him. The saber was dark and grim and Obi-Wan did not like to look at it because Anakin had--
Made it the instrument of some much pain and suffering.
Enough so that the agony radiated out of it, still.
Obi-Wan curled his fingers up to his palms. He considered simply putting the thing in an airlock and spacing it, but… He understood the basic process used by the Sith to torture kyber crystals into compliance. He could not, he found, bring himself to abandon yet another wound caused by Anakin. He drew in a sharp breath and, carefully, went about dismantling the device.
It was easy to fall into the habit of breaking down a lightsaber. He had done it so many times in his life. Each lightsaber was different but each was the same, as well. He twisted and tugged and gently placed the pieces as he went, just as though he were repairing his own.
Except his crystal had never been so dull. There was no visible red glow to it, not the way he had half-expected. It simply looked shadowed. It had no shine. And it radiated agony out into the Force, a sense of corruption and wrongness.
“Sh,” Obi-Wan said, plucking the tiny crystal up and placing it in his palm. It barely weighed anything and felt terribly cold against his skin. He curled his fingers around it and cradled it to his chest, curling over, murmuring, “sh, sh.”
#
There were methods to heal a kyber crystal. Obi-Wan had heard of them, once upon a time, ever so long ago. He barely recalled them. He’d been a padawan, when he learned the lore and the rituals, and had not thought them something he needed to commit to memory.
After all, he’d assumed, the library would always be there to review the process.
He was still digging through his memories when someone knocked at his door. He did not have to stretch out his senses through the Force to know that it was Cody. After all, he’d been alone for nearly an hour.
That was, to date, close to a record for them.
Obi-Wan shook that thought away. Healing, he knew, took time. He stood, keeping the crystal tucked against his palm, and went to the door, and nodded, though he was not really hungry, when Cody asked if he wanted to go to the mess.
The crystal burned cold against his palm through the meal.
#
Obi-Wan grew familiar with the cuts and edges of the crystal. He studied it and kept it close and wondered, exactly, how he was supposed to heal it. He meditated upon it, keeping the crystal close, and found it easy to sink down into its presence in the Force.
Something lashed out at him when he did, something sharp edged that slid along his mind. He got the feeling, settled deep in the Force, that it was a strike not meant to cause harm. A warning, instead. 
He exhaled, centering himself and refocusing on the crystal and when it struck at him again, he accepted the pain. Sometimes, he knew, healing required pain. A broken bone could not be set without hurt.
And he knew quite well how to handle pain.
#
The pain radiating out of the crystal did not ease all at once. It faded over time, in bits and snatches, until one morning Obi-Wan woke up and felt no hurt blazing out of it. He uncurled his fingers slowly, and found the crystal clear.
He smiled and curled his fingers closed again, relieved, at least, to have succeeded in fixing something.
He meant, really, to leave things there. The Order had fallen, the Temple had burned, he was...not the warrior he once was. What use did he have, really, for a lightsaber? But that did not stop him from reaching for his belt, more and more often, especially once his prosthetic was completed.
It would always be his first instinct, in a fight, to reach for a lightsaber, to stand as a shield in front of his men. A blaster could kill a man, or at least hurt someone badly enough that they would not rise again.
A lightsaber could deflect a killing blow, could stop a fight before it started.
And so he sighed, eventually, and pulled out the rest of the pieces of Anakin’s lightsaber, frowning over them. They were the wrong size to serve his purposes, but the basic components would work, if he managed to collect enough of what he needed. 
He wondered how difficult it would be to arrange a trip to a market. Or perhaps two.
#
In the end, he made his purchases here and there, while they were going about other business. He thought he’d done a fairly good job keeping his work to himself, at least until Tektek stopped by his side in the mess one day and placed a small spring beside his hand. Obi-Wan had been unable to find one anywhere and looked up, startled.
“It wasn’t hard to make,” Tektek said, gaze cutting to the side, voice quiet. 
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, reaching his new hand out and gently lifting the spring. “I didn’t - you didn’t have to--”
“I wanted to,” Tektek said, and Obi-Wan could not help but noting that their conversation was suddenly drawing a lot of attention. Crys, a table away, had frozen and was staring at them, wide-eyed, as Tektek cleared his throat and said, “Some of us - we have some other parts. If you’d want them.”
Obi-Wan blinked, rapidly, trying to clear away the burn in his eyes. He said, carefully clearing his throat, “I’d - of course I’d want them.”
And by the time he left the mess he had all the pieces he yet needed, held carefully in his hands. He said, softly, to Cody, who walked beside him the entire way, “I didn’t mean to put everyone to any trouble.” 
And Cody hesitated, for just a step, before he slid into motion again and said, “You didn’t.”
Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “I--”
“We want - we - it’s good, to help you,” Cody cut in, touching his arm, so softly that Obi-Wan only barely felt it. He came to a stop and purposefully leaned into the touch, hearing Cody’s breath catch a little.
They did nothing but look at one another for a moment, and then Obi-Wan nodded. He said, soft, “I have everything I need now.”
“So you can make one?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan hesitated another moment before inclining his head, just a little. “Good,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan wished he could agree so whole-heartedly, so easily.
#
In the end, Obi-Wan found reasons to put off the construction, but a brutal fight and then another convinced him he could not wait any longer. He was a steady hand with a blaster. He could fight more than well with nothing but his body.
But…
A lightsaber helped. There was no way to deny it. And so he went back to his quarters, relieved when Cody followed him in and sat down at the table to clean his blaster. Obi-Wan laid out all the pieces and...made himself breathe as he constructed them. 
It did not take long to complete the work. He closed his eyes and felt each piece in the Force, moving them together without touching them. He tested the balance of the completed saber, sliding the Force over each piece of it, feeling the thrum of the crystal inside.
He stretched out his hand and took it from the air, and it fitted perfectly against his palm and his fingers. He opened his eyes and exhaled, and Cody, who had been sitting quietly across the room asked, “Well, are you going to turn it on?”
Obi-Wan stared down at the saber in his grip, heart twisting unpleasantly in his chest. He knew, very well, that a kyber crystal reflected the person it attuned to, and that he had gently replaced Anakin’s impression on the crystal. He’d spent time with it, carried it with him, it would--
It would know him, when he turned the saber on. It would reflect him. Changes and damage and--
He shut his eyes, looking to the side, fingers clenching tight. “Perhaps later,” he rasped out, throat unpleasantly tight, too able to imagine what the blade might tell him about the parts of himself he didn’t want to see, about what Anakin had done to him, really, not on the outside, but inside--
“Sh,” Cody murmured, quiet, and closer. “It’s -- Obi-Wan.” He reached out, carefully, and gripped Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan blinked, could not help but lean into the touch, the comfort Cody was projecting down at him. He looked up, and found Cody watching him. And Cody said, quietly, “Try it now, please.”
Obi-Wan hesitated another moment, but, in truth, putting it off further wouldn’t solve anything. He swallowed and nodded, tried to center himself in the Force and activated the lightsaber and--
He did not intend to sob at the flash of blue light, but the sound escaped his throat, anyway. And Cody was there, curling an arm around his back, murmuring soothing words against his hair as Obi-Wan slumped into him, relief and disbelief and wild joy all swirling within him.
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sapphicsandscience · 3 years
Text
Heartbeats & Hormones (Kerry/Sandy fanfiction)
The product of a late night viewing of Tell Me Where It Hurts and whatever the hell my brain has going on in there. (Gets a tiny bit, well, smut-ish, in the second part.)
“Kerry, Sandy,” Manyard acknowledged warmly as she slipped into the OB exam room. “Happy to see you both could make it today.”
“She nearly had me come up through the morgue entrance,” Sandy quipped, standing up and placing her arm on Kerry’s lower back.
Kerry scoffed. “Don’t listen to her. She is exaggerating.”
Though now that Sandy had mentioned it, the morgue entrance may have been a good idea. At least easier than the awkward separate arrivals they had to coordinate this morning. Well, that Kerry had coordinated. Sandy was just forced along. It had been timed down to the minute by Kerry, when and where they would enter the hospital and how they would make their respective ways up to OB ensuring that minimum suspicion would be raised. After a nearly ten-minute explainer by Kerry in the car this morning, Sandy had jokingly threatened to just walk straight into the ER and announce that they were expecting.
“Thank you again for fitting us in with such short notice, we really appreciate it. Don’t we Sandy?” Kerry looked up to Sandy, seeking reassurance by sinking slightly more into her side. Even though everything had been textbook since the blood results had confirmed the pregnancy, the nerves still ate away at her every time she was at an appointment like this.
This was very likely her one and only chance.
“We do.”
Mayard smiled. “No problem, though since I am a bit pressed for time we’ll just get you to put the gown on and sit up on the bed,” She passed the hospital gown over to Kerry. Turning her back to the couple, she went to set up the monitor. “If I remember correctly you would have seen your specialist sometime last week?”
Sandy helped Kerry quickly semi-undress, holding her crutch as she climbed out of her shirt. Kerry shivered as Sandy tied the back of the gown at her neck.
“Yes, everything was fine,” Kerry answered, flattening the fabric down over her front. “But Sandy, she hasn’t heard the heartbeat yet.”
“Which is kind of why we wanted to come in today,” Sandy finished Kerry’s thought, resting the crutch against the wall after realizing it would not be needed for this next part.
“I’m sure we can rectify that today,” Manyard turned back around. “You good to go?”
Kerry nodded and positioned herself up onto the exam bed into a sitting position as Manyard directed. Sandy moved to the other side of the bed, coming up behind Kerry and placing a kiss into the back of her hair when she was sure Manyard was sufficiently distracted. She leaned forward, both hands gripping Kerry’s that was pressed against the mattress.
She involuntarily flinched at the coldness of the gel on her exposed skin, the knot in her stomach twisting vigorously with the suspense. She wondered if the doctor before her could tell how nervous she suddenly was. She hoped not. She wanted to be calm and collected, like doctors should be, especially in front of colleagues.
Only she wasn’t just a doctor anymore.
She was going to be mom now.
Kerry could tell Sandy was also growing a little nervous. She could feel her breaths against her neck, eliciting a warm tingling dizzy throughout her body that had only been heightened recently, but her normal calm breathing pattern had changed with the excitement.
Kerry squeezed her hand the moment an image appeared on the monitor.
They both waited. Breaths hitched in their throats. Hands intertwined.
“There it is,” Kerry lit up at the sound. “You can see his heartbeat.”
And with that, both of their bodies lightened as they allowed themselves to breathe.
Maynard frowned. “You can tell it's a boy? Because I can't.”
“No, it's just a...figure of speech,” Kerry shook her head slightly, not able to draw her eyes away for even a split second. “It's just a pronoun.”
“Are you hoping for a boy?”
“Not particularly. I mean, a boy would be nice,” Kerry replied. “But I...we don't care.”
“I don't even really want to know,” She looked over to Sandy for her input, but her eyes were even more glued to the image of their child than her own.
“As long as it's healthy, right?” The OB concluded with a smile.
“It’s so fast,” Sandy said, mesmerized by the rhythmic lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.  
“Fast. And very strong,” Maynard quenched any concern that may have been in Sandy’s voice.  “Just how it should be.”
_______________________________________________
“Can you pass me my shirt,” Kerry said as she zipped up her pants. “Sandy?”
Sandy however remained lent against the counter on the opposite side of the exam room. Maynard had excused herself a little while ago, needing to get back on to rounds and the two were getting ready to leave before someone found them up here.
Or at least Kerry was.
A flirtatious smile governed Sandy’s face as she bit down on her bottom lip. All the pent-up nervous excitement had now transferred itself into something slightly different.  
“What are you looking at?” Kerry asked, doing her best not to look Sandy in the eye and give in.
“You.”
“Well stop it,” She replied, reaching for her pager. Something to distract from this.  
“You look beautiful.”
Kerry rolled her head back with a sigh. “Sandy, I’m standing here in my bra, please my shirt,” Kerry extended her hand out. “Anyone could walk in!”
She instinctively hugged her chest, though the pressure caused her to grimace. Her breasts had been sore of late and all of her delicate lace bras had been pushed to the back of the drawer for the foreseeable future. Though it was clear that the less-than-sexy wireless T-shirt bra that she was currently sporting wasn’t exactly putting off Sandy.  
“Okay, okay,” Sandy laughed and passed over the shirt. “What’s it like? The fact that there’s an actual baby in there,” Sandy rested her hands against each side of her lower stomach and looked downwards.
“It’s nice...I mean I can’t feel anything, not yet,” She started to fiddle with the buttons of her shirt but a pair of hands soon pulled her fingers down gently.
Sandy began to fix up the buttons until she got distracted. Again.
“What are you doing now?”
“Kissing you,” Sandy replied smartly.
Kerry tried to resist but she couldn’t quite manage to draw her lips away from Sandy and before she knew the pair was less than a step away from making out on the exam bed behind them.
“We can’t do this here,” Kerry managed to slur out between breaths, though her body did not seem to want to cooperate.
Sandy moved closer to Kerry, their bodies now touching and Kerry was pushed further back against the side of the exam bed. She tried to ignore it but her breasts were now pressed against Sandy’s chest and their increased sensitivity led to a new but amorous tender sensation.
For a few seconds, their inhibitions escaped them both.
Sandy slid her hand below Kerry’s pants hem, momentarily resting her thumb over the protrusion of her hip bone before moving further down onto her outer thigh. Her skin was warm and soft, though a cooler hand soon gripped lightly onto her wrist.
“Stop, I have to work, Sandy,” Kerry lightly protested, a giggle in her throat as Sandy’s hand came dangerously close to her inner thigh.
“I’m just kissing you. Aren’t I allowed to kiss my wife?”
“You are not just kissing me,” She rebutted, eyes wide. “And it’s not fair, you know how I am feeling, you’ll get me all…”
“Get you all what…?”
“Flustered.”
Sandy surrendered and took a step back. “Is that right?” She said, returning to the buttons on Kerry’s shirt. “Dr. Weaver all flustered. That’s something I'd like to see,” She teased.
Kerry rolled her eyes. “I’m the one with hormones racing through me, what the hell is your excuse?!”
“How often do we both get the afternoon off?” Sandy said. “Do you really have to go back to work now?”
“That’s the point, I don’t actually have the afternoon off,” She said breathlessly, reaching back to pick up her bag off the exam bed once she was fully dressed.
Though the words held little weight to her. It was too late. She was flustered.
“But, for you, I suppose I could just come back in a few hours.”
Kerry didn’t quite make it back into work that day.  
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