#i was gonna just draw the images that are on the screen but i decided to actually make a little scene
Note
Would the clones count as Bendy's children???
Short answer: no.
Fer the long answer, I'll go ahead and explain.
The clones came ta be by Joey Drew taking the Bendy cartoon, maybe a reel or a drawing or somethin', and usin' the Ink Machine ta bring the cartoon Bendy ta life. After the first failed attempt, Joey tried again, using the cartoon and the Ink Machine ta create another clone. Then he did it again, and again, and again, striving fer that "perfect Bendy." He was a perfectionist, and if he were gonna get famous off of bein' the first human in history ta bring a cartoon ta life, then he wanted the most perfect lookin' Bendy he can get. Even a small ink splatter on the face won't do.
This is how the imperfect clones were made. Once a flawed clone came out of the Ink Machine, Joey threw him in the basement with the other rejects and tried again, and he wasn't too nice about it either. He did this 65 times until he got 66, the perfect Bendy, or so he thought. But ya all know how that ended up.
Joey Drew never used a clone ta make more clones. He always started again from the Ink Machine, makin' an entirely separate clone. Could ya imagine what kinda ink monstrosity would come outta makin' a clone out of a clone? I guess even Joey didn't wanna find out.
I myself am one of these imperfect clones, the eighth attempt in fact. I came out of the Ink Machine after the seventh clone and the ninth clone came out after me. Since Joey Drew didn't use the Ink Machine ta make clones from me, none of the clones you'll be meetin' are my children. They're my fellow clones, like I said, because I'm a flawed clone myself. I don't even have any kids, but that doesn't mean I don't do the devil's tango.
We're not considered the "original Bendy's" children either, because we are all the "original Bendy," in a way. Even if we look different from the Bendy ya see in the cartoon and have different personalities, we all share the same memories. Memories such as living in our cartoon world with "original Alice," "original Boris," and the other characters in our cartoon. Oh, our cartoon world is a whole 'nother story and ya don't have ta worry about that fer now.
Anyway, that's everything. Hope ya learned somethin' from this little presentation.
#bendy#batim#batim bendy#batim au#flawedclonesau#bendyclonerevival#thestory#ask#anon#(( the little pull-down screen is so cute sakjdha#i was gonna just draw the images that are on the screen but i decided to actually make a little scene#and that was one of the best ideas i've ever had 😊👍#havent figured out the exact process as to how jd actually made the clones besides take bendy cartoon and use ink machine#but thats not important!!#maybe he used like??? animation cels?? or however they did animation back then#i was thinking that maybe he used a reel? idk ))#(( also... bendy clone 7 and 9 sneak peek! 😉 ))#bendy clone#bendy clone 66
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Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho
I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?
Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.
Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.
I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:
Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.
Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:
Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.
This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.
Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.
The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...
He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.
It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.
Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.
This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.
For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.
Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.
It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.
Yellow Skirt
The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.
Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)
Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)
Coolest Leather Jacket In The World
It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.
Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)
Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)
Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)
Dressed In Mustard
Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)
Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)
Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)
Swishy Dress
This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)
Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)
Yellow Vest
I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.
Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)
Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)
Fuzzy Blue Coat
Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.
While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)
Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)
Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)
Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)
Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)
Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)
One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.
And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.
EDIT:
Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.
For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.
Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.
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You, anon-sect, were going about your usual routine of going to the gym and hanging out with friends. After several hours in the hot sunshine, you decided to head home. Taking a seat on the train home, you heard the pleading cries of the transformed victims trapped on your feet. You had seriously abused them today, but they were just your socks and shoes, so you didn't care. Your feet were sweating like crazy, forcing both socks and shoes to absorb it all. As you wiggled your toes within them, you could tell the shoes didn't have long left before they were completely trashed.
Looking around the train car, you noticed a perfect target to TF into new ones just a few feet away from you. He was a muscular looking stud with a handsome face that you were dying to step on as an insole. The stud was also completely distracted by his phone, making it even easier to TF him without him even realizing that he's screwed. This made your cock very hard.
Sliding yourself up the row towards him, you subtly eyed him up, imagining how comfortable he was gonna be on your feet. You pulled out the TF device and set the program to “SHOES/PERMANENT”. After making sure no one was watching, you pulled the trigger on it and fired the device at the guy. There was a bright flash of light, and as it died down, Anon-sect, you expected to see your new shoes sitting on the seat in front of you, but somehow…someway, the muscular guy was still there, completely untouched by the transformation beam. This was more than confusing for you, you had done this so many times in the past. At this point, you had probably transformed hundreds of innocent lives, irreversibly reshaped into any object you deemed them to be. No one had ever resisted the effects of your device up till this point, it was outright impossible for this guy to still be human.
You pondered what might've gone wrong, looking over the device best you can without drawing too much attention. You were angry, no, Furious that he had survived your shot, so when he started chatting with you, it took everything in you to not blow up at him.
“Hey, did your little toy break? Aww, that sucks man…”, the guy across from you spoke up, sounding exactly like the dumb ‘Jock Bro’ he appeared to be. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, which you had to hold your breath at to keep from laughing. You had just tried to turn him into your permanent footwear, and he was saddened by your perceived “broken toy”? It made you wonder, if you told him what you had planned on doing to him, would he apologize for failing to become your shoes? Man, this guy is such an easy target, it almost felt cruel…
“No, it's not broken. It's also not a toy, but if I told you what it really was, I'd have to, in a literal sense, put a foot in your mouth”, you snapped back at him, smirking slightly at your own sly word play and continued trying to suss out the fault in the device.
The guy had a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he seemed to catch on to something, “Uh…ohhh, like some kind of secret project? Aw, that's pretty cool man! I've actually got my own secret project goin’, wanna see!?”,
This guy was starting to annoy you, but not to seem suspicious, you looked up at him, faining curiously.
The guy looked overjoyed to see you interested in his so called “secret project”. He excitedly turned his phone towards you and showed you the image that was on the screen. “I snapped a pic of these awesome shoes that I want, am just waitin’ on them realizing they're supposed to be there”. Despite his obvious luke-warm IQ, it was hard not to be indeered to this guy. You were ready to write him off as a dumb meathead that would soon be imprisoned on your feet…until you actually looked at the picture on his phone. It showed a pair of white coloured High-Top sneakers, with red and black accents. You had to agree, they did look pretty awesome…however, the picture depicted the shoes on the floor of the train car, the exact same one you were in…then you realized what kind of phone this guy had…it was a TF phone.
You started to feel extremely lightheaded, your surroundings spinning rapidly around you. You looked down at your own TF device and your mistake was flashing right in your face. “Please Confirm Your Settings” was displayed on its screen. You had forgotten to press confirm, and without doing that, the device would never have fired…which meant that the bright flash of a TF beam didn't come from your device after all, but instead it came from the Muscular Jock Bro's phone!
Looking up at him in horror, you slid off your seat and landed with a thud on the floor right by the guy's nasty, beat-up gym sneakers.
“Yo, what you doin’ on the floor man…? Oh, wait! Are you tryna catch a whiff of ma feets? That's kinda weird Bro, my feet really stink, but, I guess it ain't hurtin’ no one…”, and with a confused, but friendly smile, the guy kicked off his sneakers and pressed his hot, stinky, sweat-soaked socked feet right against your face. “Oh, by the way, ma names Chad! I would ask for your name, but, I don't think shoes deserve names…”, despite retaining his air-headed bubbly himbo tone, the last line he spoke had a sinister edge to it, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
You had become completely paralyzed shortly after landing on the floor, so you could do nothing as the guy shoved his stinking, rancid feet in your face. Was this karma…? Was the universe torturing you like this as a form of revenge on behalf of all your former victims? This was the only explanation that made sense to you. How else could you have forgotten such a simple step like press confirm on your settings, you've done that a million times! All you could do was sniff, Chad's putrid, toxic foot stink no doubt speeding up the transformation process as you felt a strange sensation in your skin.
“Uh…hey Bro!”, the guy called down to you, pretending badly to sound concerned, “you don't look so good, man…it looks like you'returnin’ whit! Are ma feets too stinky for ya!? Aw, am so sorry, Man”, his tone was dripping with sarcasm, and even worse, you could spot a very visible bulge pressing against his sweats…he was enjoying this.
His feet were so rancid, but they were the least of your concerns. With pleading eyes, you looked up at him, begging, praying he would stop this…but the look of pleasure on his face told you that was never going to happen. As he gently stroked the sizable bulge in his pants, you felt your skin get tighter, squeezing out a few tears from your eyes…you didn't want this, you didn't want to be some guy's shoes! This guy was supposed to be your shoes!! As you felt a mix of fear and anger, your transformation seemed to accelerate, causing intense pain and discomfort as your body began to contort and reshape into its new form.
Staring down at you, the guy was now smirking, excited as he watched this happening to you. “Yo!!! Bro!!!! You're ma fuckin’ shoes now!!! Hahaha, pathetic loser!!!“, the guy eagerly watched as your horrific transformation was finalized, leaving you looking exactly like the picture on his phone.
Wasting no time, the guy pulled you onto his feet, your face instantly being squashed beneath his hot smelly foot. “Oh man, you feel so good on me, so comfortable!”, he remarked, pressing his foot down hard against your insole face.
This was Hell…not only were his feet fucking toxic, but the guy himself was a huge mound of muscle, weighing at least 400 pounds. However, your situation quickly changed from bad to worse when he pulled on the other shoe. From your experience with TFing people, you obviously knew the face became one of the insoles, but you never could figure out what formed the other insole…until now.
As Chad pulled on the other shoe, you could feel his sweaty toes sliding along your dick, before his heel settled down on top of your balls…this sensation made you want to cum so hard, but you couldn't, your cock was an insole. This orgasmic pleasure soon intensified as Chad played with the shoe on his foot, as if he knew your penis was now its insole. Pleasure turned to pain as there was no way to release the tension.
“Oh please…please let me cum…oh god it hurts!!! Just let me cum, please god let me cum!!!”, you mentally begged, screamed and cried, but to release came. You were locked in eternal orgasm for the rest of your life!
“Oh f-fuck…”, that was the last thought you had before his full weight crushed down on your privets. You were in agony, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
As for the muscular guy, he couldn't help but admire the quality of his new shoes! They felt high end, and super comfortable. Testing them out with a stroll up and down the train car, he found that the shoes would contract around his feet with each step, almost as if the shoes were giving his feet a massage as he walked. “Man, it was awesome of you to turn into my shoes! Am gonna wear you everyday Bro, especially to the gym! You're ma new favorite pair now!”, he excitedly informed you, mercilessly wiggling his big thick toes on you.
You screamed at the thought of that. Everyday!? There was no way you could mentally survive that! You began to cry and plead, begging to be turned human again, but it never came. You would live out the rest of your existence on his feet, smelling, tasting and feeling every second of it at 10000X the insanity of a normal human.
Chad kept his word and wore you every single day, and to torture you even further, he also never changed his sock either. Eventually, you would begin to rot on his feet, his rancid sweat dissolving your shoe bodies. First to go was your insole cock. Chad's sweat had quickly stained it a deep orange, and once that happened, the integrity of your insole cock rapidly deteriorated with searing, blinding pain. You thought your mind was going to burn up…in fact, you hoped it would…unfortunately it stayed intact, forcing you to feel you cock and balls rot away beneath Chad's foot. Next was your face, you could both smell and taste yourself rotting, but you never died. Chad simply threw you in a closet with the rest of his rotting sneakers, leaving you to your fate in pain and agony as shoes, forever!
This is a post requested by @anon-sect Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
Go check out @anon-sect and enduldge in his amazing TF stories!!
#inanimate transformation#permanent tf#inanimate tf#shoe tf#thank you#jock feet#tf story#tf caption#clothing tf
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24 asksss :}}} ⭐⭐⭐
@ardent-38
You are my favorite person
@wolfie-777
Cassie does not exist in my AU. But hypothetically-
If Roxanne found this lost child she would report it to Vanessa and have her help Cassie. As is the protocol for children that are found on the premises after hours.
If Roxy found her while she had the "bug" in her system? She would have attacked and maybe even killed Cassie :x
Had to google what that was, <XD It looks beautiful! And I image that he has seen it before yeah :)
As for their favorite songs, I'm not sure :0
That's.. actually a really good idea.
For a long time I never went back to the comic because the writing I did was awful. Everyone was acting out of character, it was SUPER dramatic. I wrote Peso's character all wrong. Uhg, awful awful awful.
And then I was kept away from going back because people would not stop asking me to finish it. "Why did you abandon this comic?" "Are you gonna finish it?" "Why did you stop drawing it" "Go back and finish the crab comic" Like, it was so frustrating.
...Buuuuutt,, rewriting it? Hmmm... I'm way too wrapped up with projects to start this anytime soon. But I wont lie this ask really got me thinking about it-
Also thank you so much! I'm glad you like my art!! :DDD
@smilegirl64 (Post in question)
Thank you! I'm so glad you noticed! That was my favorite detail to add XDDDD
@elegysonnet
I dug into the series a bit and took a look around the fanbase. And I decided that it just wasn't really my thing.
Although I did love the character designs and I think they'd be really fun to draw, I didn't think I'd get along with the fandom. I can see myself huddled in my own little corner with all my headcannons and stuff, and I wouldn't really want to interact with anyone else. :/
Also my favorite character is probably Julie or Howdy XDD
I use an XPPen Artist 13.3 Pro. Its a tablet with a screen! :))
As for my drawing program I use FireAlpaca. Its free and really good for beginners and pros! Highly recommend if you're just getting into digital art. Also thank you!! :D
@baokim80
@burningmusicfunnygiant
I disagree actually. The "bug" aside, they are in no way programed to hurt anyone. They are programmed to have full obedience to staff and Managers.
They could try to stop them, and they could physically stand in their way. But you wouldn't see Freddy straight up punching an employee to keep him away from Bonnie.
Now with the bug in their systems? mmm.. Okay yeah they would. BUT ONLY WHEN THEY'RE NOT IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS-
@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson
XDD Offended Bibi noises can be heard in the background
@curiousskelekitty
<XD I'll do my best!
I feel that my responsibility as an artist on this platform is to tag my art appropriately. Tag it for blood, gore, injuries, things like that. So that people who are disturbed by those subjects don't have to stumble upon it and have their day ruined. :(
What is NOT my responsibly is to prevent little kids from seeing my bloody Octonauts artwork. That's the parents job. XD THEY should be keeping an eye on their kids and making sure they're not browsing sites like Tumblr XDD
Tangle and Lolbit are not a part of my AU actually.
But Mangle? Just because she hasn't made an appearance of any kind yet, doesn't mean she wont in the future.. 👀
Thank you! :DD
Thank you! I'll try to not rush through my projects so much <XD
Thank you for respecting that! :D
Also uhg. I hate pinterest. I would rather people just never found out about me then find me through a pinterest post with my stolen artwork.
@whereismycupofcoffee
YEESSS!!! I always love it when people decide to give Octonauts a try :))) Its a really neat show!
THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD
XD My first thought was Peso or Shellington for some reason. They're just too polite to make a fuss XDDD
@kymbird
Wanna know a good place to start if you genuinely struggle with that? Make 1 character that is based off of you. And then make a second character that is based off of someone in your life that you have 0 romantic interest in what so ever. Like your Mom, or your Dad, siblings, Uncle, dog literally anyone. It should be impossible to twist those 2 characters together because they are modeled after you and ur mom. You should look at them and say "thats me and my mom" or "thats me and my brother" Those 2 should then be characters that are 100% protected from becoming a ship. :0
This actually reminded me of my transformer ocs. I modeled the characters after the drivers/owners. And people wanted to ship them together and I was like "for 1 they are my OCs so thats kind'a odd but 2 those two characters are based off of siblings. They absolutely should not- in ANY universe, be paired together"
Personally not a huge fan of the bright blue color he has. Seeing his Bonnie Bowl artwork everywhere I expected him to be his usual purple..
As for my Bonnie I think he'd get along pretty well with his Glamrock counterpart! But when it comes to the Bowling ally they'd be rivals. >:)
Also thank you! :DD
@trains-of-thought
aaaa thank you so much!! :DD I'm so glad to hear that you've liked my Mario artwork!! And that you read the info aaaa!! I spent a lot of time writing all that so I'm glad to hear that you read it! As for your questions,
1: Yes! My Peach, Daisy, Wario and Waluigi are all the same species, which is not human. They are this incredibly tall elf like species that closely resembles humans and has many biological similarities.. but ultimately they are very different species.
2: Its hard to say.. I've been known to change my mind a lot so maybe? Honestly I hope that someday these feelings towards fanart will vanish and I will be able to engage with my fans more. But for now,, noooo fanworks :(
OH MY GOSH I LOVE THAT FNAF VIDEO XDD Very well animated and funny! Here's the link in case anyone is interested!
I drew it myself! :)
#my response#fnaf security breach#fnaf security breach dlc#fnaf security breach dlc spoilers#octonauts#super mario bros
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Happy Holidaze║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ
| HAPPY HOLIDAZE | part of the A Weight Off Your Shoulders collection
║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║
| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x plus sized!fem!neighbor (Roxy)
| RATING: explicit material | 18+
| WORD COUNT: 9.7k
| CONTENT: age gap (Joel mid 40s, neighbor late 20s), struggles of body image and self-worth, diet culture, awkward conversations and situations with your parents, fluff with dash of smut at the end, two idiots in love who are disgusting sluts for each other
| SYNOPSIS:
You and Joel finally meet each other's families.
✧this is the fifth installment of a oneshot collection✧
✧◦◦║ Part 1 ║ Part 2 ║ Part 3 ║ Part 4 ║ Part 6 ║◦◦✧
nail color?
You text the question along with a picture of the wall of options in front of you.
getting a pedi too so pick two
The text bubble pops up then disappears for a moment before reappearing again.
You want it to match holiday stuff or whatever?
I’m not an expert at this stuff.
Don’t know if there’s unspoken rules or something.
You roll your eyes and smile down at your phone. Joel was older, old enough to not always get the social implications of certain situations, especially in the dating world - not that the two of you were officially dating or anything - situations, like asking a man to pick out what color you should get your nails done.
don’t need an expert
A playful grin warms your features as you type out a few extra snippets and hit send.
just need to know what color you wanna see on my nails
you know, for when you’re watching me grab your dick and stroke it later
You bite back a smile, teeth tucked into your bottom lip, as you wait for a reply. As expected, the text bubble flashes and disappears on the screen repeatedly. You can vividly picture Joel texting you back in a frenzy over your flirty message. You relished in getting him worked up sometimes, knowing you could get him absolutely feral to the point that he’d just rip his clothes off the second he got through the door and fuck the living daylights out of you.
You stifle a laugh when his contact picture takes up the entire screen. Of course he’s given up on trying to text you back and is just calling you instead.
“Yyyeesssssss?” you draw out in an innocent voice.
“Goddamn you can’t just send me shit like that when I’m at work, baby.” His husky voice is clear even as it passes through the somewhat scratchy receiver.
“What’s the matter, Joel? Those big ass Wreck It Ralph hands of yours couldn’t type the words fast enough?” you tease. Joel’s deep laugh on the other end of the line makes your belly feel like a swarm of butterflies are about to burst through your throat.
“How the fuck did I end up with a brat like you, huh?” he chuckles.
You hum a laugh in reply and wait patiently for him to answer your original question.
“Alright, brat. Lemme think.” He makes small, thoughtful noises as you tilt your head and scan the wall. When he makes a low, throaty noise, you sniff a laugh through your nose.
“Okay, if you are actually picturing what the color will look like while I’m … doing that–” you pause, glancing around the nail salon as if an eavesdropper would somehow immediately know what sort of filth you were exchanging “–you’re gonna get sent to HR when somebody sees you all bricked up at work.”
Joel laughs again. He’d laughed every time you said “bricked up” since you taught him the expression several months ago.
“Alright, alright. Red. I want ‘em to be red,” he decides.
“Okay. And my toes?”
He makes a weird noise on the other end, and you roll your eyes. You know exactly what he’s thinking about.
“No, you will NOT have to picture what color my toes would look like wrapped around your–” you cut yourself off when you catch a curious, disapproving look from an older woman in a chair nearby getting a manicure. Joel busts out in a belly laugh, understanding that you were probably talking too loud and got a look from somebody.
“Hm, I dunno, baby. Never been into that, but who knows. Might be my new thing if you’re the one doin’ it. I like everythin’ you do,” he murmurs. It sounds like he’s cupped his hands against his mouth and the microphone so he could talk without getting noticed like you had.
“Joel,” you warn with no real weight behind it.
“And besides, even if it ain’t a footjob situation, you know I like gettin’ those things up on my shoulders when I’m fuckin’ you senseless.” His voice is quieter now, but it’s less to do with volume and more to do with the raspy, lewd bend to his words.
“I just know I’m going to regret teaching you this, but there’s actually a name for that,” you say low, cupping your own hand into the receiver now so you could speak without catching another disapproving glance.
“Oh?” He sounds excited, as he always does whenever you introduce him to these kinds of things. Slang. How to hide photos from his main camera roll. How to work the remote on the TV. Turns out dating someone younger had its benefits - not that the two of you were dating or anything.
“Mmmhmmm. It’s kinda like the one I told you before. The ‘your hands would make a nice necklace’ thing. So yeah, you’d say ‘I wanna wear your ankles for earrings’ or, like, ‘I’m gonna make your ankles my earrings.’”
“Damn, maybe your generation ain’t so bad after all,” he chuckles. “Certainly come up with some handy terms, I’ll give ya that much.”
“Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you giggle. “Like you’re that much older than me. Give me a break.”
He chuckles. You hear some yelling in the background on his end and then his muffled response to whoever it was that he’d “be right there.”
“Alright, honey. I gotta go. Lemme see. Alright. Toes. Hhhmm. How ‘bout blue? Like those one pair of panties I like’a yours,” he decides.
You smile. You know exactly the pair he’s talking about.
“Mmm’kay. Only ‘cuz I like you so much,” you hum.
“Yeah, you sure do like me ‘n these Wreck It Ralph hands. Don’t mind ‘em when they’re fingerin’ your–”
“Hanging up now,” you snip playfully.
“Don’t wanna hear you complainin’ when I yell ‘I’M GONNA WRECK IT’ when I’m balls deep in you tonight,” he hurries out before you can end the call.
“GOODBYE, JOEL. And you better not!” you snicker. “Talk about a turn off. I’d cut you off for a month.”
“Bullshit. You couldn’t go a month without me. Without my–” he laughs, not getting to finish before you cut him off.
“GOOD. BYE.” you huff in a giggle.
“Bye, baby. See you tonight,” he laughs easy before making some exaggerated kissy noises and hanging up.
You shake your head, trying to keep from erupting in laughter. This man was an absolute mess and full on dork, and you loved every second of it. You nab a seasonal red and a panty blue and wait to be called. You dutifully ignore the eavesdropper from before as she glances your way a few times. It wasn’t very hard to divert your attention with all the giddy, bubbly feelings surging through you. Joel made an outstanding distraction in plenty of ways, and you find yourself smiling like a love-struck puppy most of the time because of him. He really felt like the best thing that had ever happened to you.
He was wrong when he’d said “you couldn’t go a month without me” during your call. The truth was, you couldn’t go without him, period. He had become so naturally ingrained into your life that it felt strange to think of what it had been like without him. It just felt right that you existed in tandem. It was hard to separate how you felt and what you “knew.”
You knew you were in a casual “situationship” that neither one of you sought to define in any certain terms. You felt as though spending practically every night together, going on a weekend getaway together, and neither one of you pursuing anything outside of each other was decidedly more in the “serious, committed relationship” category.
You knew that it was a “textbook mistake” to jump from an almost decade-long failed relationship into a new, serious one. It wasn’t in line with what you were “supposed to do” after such a big change, which conventionally involved something along the lines of “playing the field for a while” and “just having some fun” while getting back out there. But your heart had decided that you were going to abandon all sense and become involved with the first guy you had a meaningful interaction with post-breakup.
So, here you are, just several months out of a heartbreaking split from somebody you were supposed to marry, and completely head over heels with someone new who felt too good to be true. You can’t think of a time in your life that you’ve been happier, so why did it feel so petrifying to just lean into the obvious? Why couldn’t you just yield to the undeniable, consuming magnetic connection between you and Joel?
He so often seemed to hold back for your sake, never wanting to push you past your comfort zone or ask too much of you too fast. Biting his tongue at times that you could’ve sworn he’d nearly slipped and said the “big L” to you and caught himself at the last moment. Just a miracle of a man who was patiently waiting you out, waiting for you to give in to it all and accept what was clearly happening. Admitting that, as crazy as it seemed and felt, the two of you were in love, and one of you needed to make the first move towards the next step. The definitive kind of step that makes this “casual fling” into a real relationship.
Something or someone was bound to give, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be ready for what that brings.
Your parents had booked the cruise long before your engagement was broken off. It was a dream of theirs to go on the two week long journey, spanning several continents and all of the major winter holidays you celebrated. Naturally you’d insisted that they don’t cancel on account of your bad bit of luck. At least somebody’s year was going like they thought it would, and it felt wrong to ask them to cancel the vacation they’d been talking about since forever.
That, and the fact that you were relieved to have a valid reason for attending Thanksgiving with your parents instead of going with Joel for a quick trip to see Sarah during her college break. Even though he’d asked in an offhand way if you’d want to go with him and meet her, you could tell he’d very much wanted you to say yes. Of course you wanted to meet her and share in Joel’s life that way, but it was a major shift into the “real, defined relationship” category – the kind where you had a title attached to your name when you were introduced to their family.
It’s how you found yourself currently sat in your parents’ kitchen, poking around on the appetizer tray, while your mom busied herself with the normal fare in addition to “lower calorie alternatives” you were no doubt expected to choose if the quantities of each offering was anything to go by. You watch your mom slice impossibly thin pieces of cheese for the crackers and wonder if you should’ve just sucked it up and gone with Joel. Then again, you’d have to offer some sort of reason for missing out on a major holiday with your family. It was a catch 22.
“Roxy, don’t eat so many appetizers. I know it’s a holiday and all, but don’t go overboard,” your mom offers with genuine kindness that stings just as bad as if she’d meant to hurt you. You set the cheese slice and cracker combo back onto your plate. You knew you were stress eating from all the nerves about the possibility of the “how’s your love life” conversation, but you surprised yourself by only realizing you were taking so many bites after your mom pointed it out.
You’d stopped being so vigilant with every morsel of food that passed through your mouth. You ate most of your meals with Joel, and you weren’t self-conscious about eating around him or in front of him like you always were with most people. It was a hard habit to break, to not be so focused on pacing yourself, matching your rate of intake with others so you didn’t look like a pig chowing down and wiping your plate clean before everyone else had finished.
Joel was a good cook, and he often brought you bites to test or little plates of this and that to tide you over before the whole meal was done. You weren’t even embarrassed when he’d feed you pieces of popcorn while you watched movies together, snuggled up together on the couch. He’d chomp a few pieces down himself and then pop a few kernels into your mouth, always attentive. Just like he was with everything when it came to you.
But here in your childhood home, listening to your mom’s offhand comments about your intake, it brought you right back into all those years of shame and guilt. You knew she meant well. She always had. Never wanting you to struggle the same way she did, years and years of diets and exercise regimens and restriction. She’d dropped a lot of weight since taking up Weight Watchers, and you were happy for her. She was always nicer and more relaxed when she’d hit those lower ends of the yo-yoing. All the more uptight and anxious the moment her weight crept back up again.
Your dad didn’t seem to care either way what she looked like, but it was a bit of accidental negative reinforcement that he liked interacting with her a whole lot more when she was nicer to him and everybody else. It just so happened that was only when her jeans didn’t fit so tight and the numbers weren’t too frightening on the scale. She’d no doubt come to internalize the dynamic and equate her lower weight with better interactions and a more fulfilling relationship with your dad, never even realizing it was the way she interacted with him and others that brought about those pleasant times and not what size she had to pull from the rack.
“Awfully quiet, Rox,” your dad notes.
You look over to find him studying you with those astute eyes. He was never much of a talker, but god could he communicate so much with a look or a gesture. Your mother on the other hand–
“Yeah, hon. Please don’t spend the day thinking about that awful, awful man.” You suppose your unusual quiet could most readily be explained by all the feelings that might come about spending your first major holiday out of a relationship for the first time in almost ten years. You aren’t sure which is worse: that hypothetical explaining your silence, or the truth, which was an over the moon sort of romance that you couldn’t talk about yet.
“I’m not thinking about Michael,” you mumble petulantly. You didn’t want to give him any sort of win, even if he wasn’t around to know about it.
“Y’seem distracted,” your dad says plainly.
He’s watching you with those eyes that say he already knows something is up, but he doesn’t know enough to speak on it yet. Your gut pinches. It won’t take him long to figure it out. It never does if he’s got his mind set to something. It was a trait you’d always admired and envied. You shrug off his observation, but your mom isn’t so quick to let it go.
“You’ll get to a place where you can put yourself back out there, hon. I just know it. You’re a resilient girl, and you’re not going to let that loser change that,” she sniffs with an air of indignation. It’s hard to imagine this was the same woman who this time last year had been so effusive with compliments and general praise to the same man she was now deeming a loser. Still, the sentiment that he had kneecapped your entire romantic life annoyed you more than it should’ve.
“Who says I’m not ‘back out there’ already?” you grumble to the half empty tray of appetizers.
Your mom jolts like she’d been doused in ice water. Your eyes flit to your dad who gives you a knowing grin. Even though you hadn’t even actually said anything, it felt good to talk about Joel, to acknowledge his existence at least. You feel a sudden urge to just tell your parents everything about Joel. You chug the rest of your red wine to reign yourself in and wait for the onslaught from your mother.
“You’re seeing someone?” she breathes, excitement boiling over.
“Well, I mean… I guess I’ve been, you know, like, talking with somebody,” you say as casually as you can manage.
“Oh? REALLY? Oh! That’s-That’s wonderful, Roxanne!” your mom exclaims, rising to the balls of her feet and clapping her hands together quietly. “How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t we met him yet?”
“Take it easy, will ya, Melissa? She didn’t say it was anything serious,” your dad mutters.
For all his faults, your dad at least grasped the concept that the dating world had changed significantly since he and your mom got together, and it was no longer the kind of landscape where you were “going steady” with the same person after two successful dates. Your mom, on the other hand, struggled with the concept of casual anything when it came to relationships. A romantic at heart, she was always the type to believe in the sorts of things like twin flames, finding your soulmate in every universe, and so on.
You snort to yourself, considering how you were a perfect blend of the two. The logical, practical side of you knowing that you and Joel hadn’t defined your relationship with any specific terms, but you were mutually exclusive. A noncommittal sort of committal. The bleeding heart side of you knowing good and well that you were in love with him. It was the stuff of romcoms, the type that you’d make Joel watch with you on the weekends when it was your turn to pick the movie. The kind that he pretended to be annoyed by but never truly complained about and never made you feel like a mawkish idiot when you’d cry at the sappy payoff in the overwrought finale.
“Oh, shut up, Robert,” your mom snips. “I just meant I wanted to know more about him. Don’t act like you don’t, either.” She did her best to be annoyed with your dad, but she broke almost immediately when he smirked at her and poked her sides teasingly.
“Didn’t say I wasn’t. Just wasn’t gonna push her, dearest,” he mocks half-heartedly. He swigs a sip of beer and turns back to you.
“Of course we’d love to hear about him, Rox. Wanna know who’s got my little girl’s attention, ya know?” He smiles, mood and tongue steadily loosened by the beer in his hand. Your mom makes a low sneering sound. When you and your dad both look at her curiously, she sighs and shrugs.
“Sorry. It’s just- Yes, of course we want to hear all about him, serious or not. I want to know who’s got your attention, too, but I-I just…” she trails off, suddenly seeming uncomfortable as she and your dad exchange a loaded look.
“What? What is it?” you demand.
“I think what your mom is tryna say, Rox, is that we want to know more about him for the sake of knowing about him, but also because we’re both… we both hope whoever it is treats you better than.. what you dealt with before,” he finishes clumsily.
Your dad wasn’t the talkative type, but he was always better at expressing himself when he did decide to speak. Choosing his words more carefully than your mother ever did and communicating clearly despite not offering up much conversation very often. It felt odd to hear him stumble over his words, but it went hand in hand with their shared look moments ago.
They’d obviously talked amongst themselves about your complete failure of a relationship with Michael. It had been humiliating to tell them the truth of the situation, why you couldn’t “work it out” and why you had to move back home, but they were ultimately supportive.
It felt all the more humiliating on your end because your parents had been madly in love and happily married for decades. It was the kind of relationship you didn’t hear about much anymore, the childhood sweethearts who were destined to fall in love and be together forever. You’d thought that you were going to have the same thing, just a little rougher around the edges. Instead you’d ended up with a mockery of a relationship that you’d wasted years of your life on and would never get back.
“Maybe somebody closer to your age would be better, too,” your mom’s third glass of wine said.
Your dad didn’t say anything, but his face spoke all the agreement in the world with the sentiment. Your stomach flipped. Great. Of course they were going to write off anyone with more than 5 years of seniority on you after Michael had so dutifully upheld the classic trope of “older man divorces his wife for his younger girlfriend and then repeats the cycle when she ages out of his desired demographic.” Yet another aspect of your life that he ruined despite not having spoken to him since before you left Colorado and came home.
“Maybe you should meet him before deciding you don’t like him,” you gripe defensively. The urge to defend Joel was strong, but you regretted your words the moment they left your lips.
“What a lovely idea!” your mom practically sings. Your dad’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise at your quick to defend attitude for this “casual relationship.” Right off the bat and you’d shown your hand. You wonder if your dad will clue your mom in that you obviously had strong feelings for this mystery man. You pour another glass of wine and resign yourself to divulging the bare minimum of information about Joel to your parents.
You don’t give a specific on age – “he’s older than me” – or when you met – “he lives next door.” Your mom was biting back annoyed sighs at how you danced around questions. You’d finally had enough to drink that you promised to talk with Joel about the four of you meeting up for dinner sometime in December before your parents left on their cruise. You hope that Joel will help you concoct some sort of excuse for not scheduling such a dinner, but your instinct tells you that he would probably be even more excited about it than your mother, if that was even possible.
“Joel, I don’t think this is structurally sound,” you half-joke.
The gingerbread structure, which was really just a bunch of graham crackers stuck together with store bought icing, was definitely leaning towards the left, but there wasn’t any discernible freefall motion to it. Just a slow, sinking slant towards the dining room table surface.
“Just leave it to the professionals, huh?” he snips back playfully.
“I knew I should’ve gotten a second opinion,” you theatrically mutter under your breath.
Joel pops a marshmallow into his mouth and chews loudly just because he knows how much it annoys you. “You got the best right here, baby.” He smacks his mouth in big gnawing motions. “Can’t get any better than this.”
His goofy grin is endearing, and you focus on that instead of the voice in your head readily agreeing that, yeah, you couldn’t do better than Joel and you might not even be good enough for him in the first place.
“You up for a lil friendly competition?” he suggests.
You shake off your negative thoughts with a loose shrug and smirk back at him. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“Whoever makes the best gingerbread house person wins,” Joel proposes in a borderline smug tone . You’re about to agree when he holds a single finger up. “But wait just a minute, let’s make it interesting. You make me, and I’ll make you.”
Your mind is already going into overdrive producing hilarious confectionary Joels, and you don’t even waste any time offering up a verbal agreement to the challenge before diving right in. It’s only a minute or two later that cereal boxes have been erected between the two of you as “anti-cheating shields.” Sprinkles and icing cover the surface of the table everywhere you look. You’d both worked in near silence as you diligently crafted holiday candied versions of each other.
You give your creation a once over and beam at your work: rice krispy treats mashed together with extra marshmallows for a broad, strong body, brown and black sprinkles mashed into the “face” to make a patchy beard, little red licorice pieces for the mouth, a chocolate candy smeared with marshmallows for his “salt and pepper locks,” and two mismatched sprinkles for eyes.
You start to peek around the boxes, but Joel is quick to block your line of sight. “Hey, no looking until it’s done!” You put your hands up in mock surrender and giggle uncontrollably at how serious he’s taking the task. He grins big and wide before nipping at your bottom lip, cheek, and earlobe in quick succession. “Absolute brat,” he breathes out a laugh. His eyes slide to your making of him, and his smile goes even wider.
You pick it up gently and present it to him. “Ta-da!”
He wheezes in laughter as he produces his version of you, and you’re quick to join him when you see it. Two jumbo marshmallows shoved together, some sort of pink taffy crammed into it near the bottom to represent what you can only assume is your vagina, two smaller but still sizable marshmallows attached by toothpicks for breasts – pointed ends of the toothpick still visible, of course, for your nipples – and random bits of icing and sprinkles mishmashed into a face.
“Oh wait wait wait,” you giggle like a maniac. You shove three mini marshmallows onto a toothpick to give your candy Joel a penis. He arranges the two of you against the lopsided graham cracker house, marshmallow penis situated crudely into your pink taffy vagina, and you both take in the completed scene.
“Never seen a better lookin’ gingerbread family,” he chuckles.
You nod, enthusiastic with agreement at the deformed but lovable pairing. You want to shove down the urge to mention the impending dinner with your parents, but you can’t quite manage.
“Speaking of family,” you awkwardly lay out, “you sure you’re still up for meeting the folks?”
Joel only looks a touch more serious when he answers. “Wanna meet the people responsible for creating such a beautiful thing like you.”
“Can’t promise they won’t make you pay for all of Michael’s sins,” you mutter.
He just smirks back in response. “If they didn’t give the next guy shit after that colossal failure of a man you were with, I’d wonder if they actually gave a shit at all.”
As usual, Joel brings everything into focus and props the situation up on a patient, flexible perspective for everyone involved. If he was in charge of the narrative, maybe the dinner wouldn’t be that bad afterall.
The pretty green satin dress you’d finally worked up the courage to buy and wear suddenly felt three sizes too small and ten times too revealing to wear for dinner with your parents. You smooth over the already smoothed fabric, hands gliding freely over the swell of your hips and belly where the light catches, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ,” Joel groans from the doorway.
You twist around awkwardly to find him staring at you. His eyes roam back up to your face, and he shakes his head with a small, incredulous laugh. His grin etches out little grooves of joy around his eyes. “You look incredible.”
And it’s as simple as that. Joel looking at you how he does and saying the things he does, dispelling those nagging, intrusive thoughts in a moment’s passing. You turn to face him directly and do a bit of admiring yourself. Crisp, neat gray slacks paired with a nice button up shirt, hair lightly gelled back, scruff a little less scruffy. Joel looks devastatingly handsome, and you tell him so.
It’s an easy atmosphere for most of the car ride to the restaurant. It’s the kind of familiarity and comfort that comes so easy that it ends up being difficult to explain to people. A sort of if you know, you know energy, and the closer you got to the restaurant, the more you were scared your parents weren’t going to “get it” at all. The nerves crept up and tightened like a vice squeezing around your chest. Your dress feels too snug and inappropriate again all the sudden.
“Hey.” Joel’s voice plucks you from your mini spiral. He’s glancing at you while he waits for the light to change, but you hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped at all. “It’ll be good. It’s gonna be a nice dinner, okay?”
You shake your head. “No, I know. I know it’ll be alright. I’m just–I don’t know why, but I guess I’m just nervous.” You give an apologetic shrug as if you might offend Joel for feeling anything less than ecstatic for him to meet your parents.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be worried about. If you get too nervous at dinner, I can handle it. I know how to steer a conversation, baby,” he assures you.
“But it’s not fair to ask you to take charge of the conversation just because I’m being overly anxious,” you grumble. “Especially since they’re my parents. I should be the one fielding questions and directing the conversation to pleasant chitchat.”
“Well, I guess that’s just one of the many things that makes me such a catch,” he teases with a wink.
You can’t help but smile a little at his attempts to keep you level headed. “Can’t argue with that.”
You focus on the lazy circles his wide hands draw on your thigh for the rest of the drive. You keep a flow of steady breaths as you pull into the lot and tell Joel not to worry about paying for valet. He grins knowingly at you. It was always a good sign if you were focused on economics and prudent money practices. His arm wraps across your back like a stabilizing bracket. The hostess informs you that the rest of your party has already arrived and is awaiting your company. Your heart jumps into your throat when you spot your parents seated in the middle of the restaurant.
It’s a bit of a blur as Joel introduces himself, offering a firm handshake to your dad and a friendly kiss on the cheek for your mother. He’s not even batting an eye as he prompts you to take a seat in the chair he’s pulled out for you. You plop awkwardly into your seat and feel like a deer in headlights. You realize now you probably should’ve prepped more for potential conversations and what sort of cohesive statements you and Joel would make in return. Your mouth feels like sandpaper, and your mother has to ask her question again when you realize you’ve missed it.
“I said, are you feeling okay? You’re just staring off,” she repeats with an edge of worry.
You snap into “fake it until you make it” mode and laugh it off. “Yeah, sorry, mom. Just realized it’s been a while since I ate something. Guess I’m a little hungry.”
It was the first thing that came to mind for a flimsy but passable excuse, and you want to launch yourself into the sun for immediately inviting the topic of food and appetite to the table. Even your dad pauses for a split second to squint at you as if he’d misheard. Your mom doesn’t take note of it, too delighted by your choice of topic.
“OOooohhhh, is it intermittent fasting? I’ve heard a lot about that. How long have you been doing that? I’m so proud of you!”
The unspoken “I’m so happy that you’re finally trying to lose weight again” hangs in the air and makes your cheeks start to burn. You’d rather shrivel into a ball of mush and seep through the cracks in the floor than have Joel bear witness to one of you and your mother’s back-and-forths over eating and body weight.
Joel barely finishes his sip of water before wading into the disaster of a conversation you’ve started. “Intermittent fasting? Ain’t that what you do before a doctor’s appointment?” You appreciate his willingness to throw himself into whatever awkward bullshit you’ve managed to whip up in such a short amount of time, but he’s truly not well-versed enough in your mother’s history of food and diet culture to really understand just what he’s getting into.
“Oh, I guess, but this is a real winner from what I’ve heard. One of my girlfriends just switched to it from keto, but she’s still quite plump, you know? It’s supposed to do wonders for cutting back on calories and weight loss, ” she reports with glittery, tired eyes that shift to you for a split second at the word plump.
“What? Like a diet or somethin’? You tellin’ me people just cut out whole chunks of time and won’t let themselves eat?” Joel’s misgivings with the entire concept is obvious. Your mother of course further ensnares her victim into the conversation, knowledgeable or not of the verbal intricacies and diatribe lures that await them. “It restarts your metabolism,” she explains excitedly to a further perplexed Joel.
At least she was trying to salvage the discussion and didn’t seem put off by Joel’s less than stellar reception to her passionate opinions.
“Sounds a little strange to me, but I guess to each their own,” he offers, noncommittal and not entirely convincing.
Your mom deflates a bit but takes it in stride. It was more than what she normally got in those types of conversations. You thank the high heavens when the waiter comes to start your orders. You fumble with the menu and mentally thank Joel when he casually suggests something for you, exactly what you would pick for yourself had your brain not been in panic mode. Everyone is focused on their menus for a short time, muttering here and there about which special looks good and what the house favorites are. You spend the entire time dreading the thought of your mother talking about your weight, dieting, and body in front of Joel and haven’t picked a dish by the time the waiter returns. All your brain can do is hammer thoughts of the night ending badly one way or another.
Before Joel can step in and just order for you, your mother supplies you with her ever helpful suggestions. “You know, there’s a lot of really delicious looking salads. And it’s easy to get the dressing on the side to save yourself some Points.”
“Salad? Points?” Joel asks.
“Oh, I guess intermittent fasting wouldn’t be Points,” she laughs at herself like she’d just made a funny joke. “Weight Watchers does Points. You know, tracking your calories through Points. Makes it so easy, especially during these cooler months when everybody just starts letting themselves go and eat anything they see!” She’s nodding with an enthusiasm that no one else at the table shares.
Joel glances at you with a look of why the fuck would anybody waste a nice meal out being worried about calories? but he doesn’t say that – thank god. You order a pathetic sounding salad just to move things along, and you ignore Joel’s bewildered expression over your dinner choice. Your mother makes a face – over what you can only assume is the fact that you didn’t order your dressing on the side – before she orders a smaller, even more pathetic sounding salad and a bowl of glorified bone broth. It’s steaks and seafood for the men at the table, and then you’re left with the expanse of time between ordering and the food arriving.
“So, Joel,” your mother starts up again. “You’re quite the mystery man! It was a pleasant surprise when we found out our little Roxy had made a nice friend.”
Joel’s face radiates warmth and pride at the mere allusion of being yours, being your mystery man - a “nice friend.” He gives a breezy explanation of how it’s been nice for him to have such an intelligent, funny companion that’s just a stone’s throw away from his own house. Things get a little rocky when he mentions his house being more quiet since his daughter went away to college. Your dad all but freezes on the spot and pins you with a look that you can’t place.
By some divine nature, your mom doesn’t say anything and opts to just blink repeatedly at Joel with a blank stare. Sensing he might’ve opened a can of worms with the innocent comment, Joel looks to you with uncertainty for the first time this evening. Something in his search for the right thing to do at this moment gives you the drive to speak up.
“Yeah, it’s been nice for me, too, honestly. It’s the first time I’ve lived alone in a really long time, you know? And I think I would’ve been doing a hell of a lot worse if I hadn’t met Joel,” you attest.
He gives you one of his shy, goofy grins, and part of you wonders why you would ever feel nervous when you’ve got someone like him by your side.
“Well, it certainly sounds… convenient,” your mother notes with a questionably loaded emphasis on the word convenient.
Ah, yes, there’s the other part of you screaming and hopping up and down that says THIS is precisely why you would feel nervous, even with Joel by your side.
“Maybe it was destiny. Aren’t you always going on and on about that sort of thing, mom?” you shoot back with a glare. Heat prickles on your neck at the insinuation that you and Joel enjoy each other’s company simply because it’s easy and right in front of you. Your mom huffs a little at your pointed tone, but you don’t back down.
“I never said it was a bad thing. I just think it’s certainly an element that’s made things more… speedy. But that’s neither here nor there, I guess.”
“Oh so now it’s not just because it’s easy but it’s rushed, too?” you scoff.
“That’s not what she’s sayin–”
You cut your dad off before he can jump in to defend your mom’s rude comments. “Sounds pretty clear what she’s saying, dad.” When you catch a “just so fast” and a “the whole Mike situation” muttered under her breath towards your dad, you feel on the verge of screaming. A large, firm grip on your thigh snaps your attention to Joel who levels you with a look – no, a silent request to let him take this on for you, to make good on what he’d promised in the car: ain’t nothin’ to be worried about, I can handle it, I know how to steer a conversation.
“Hey,” he bids to you, tender but firm. “Let them say their piece. This is all new to them, alright? They’re just wantin’ to protect you is all.”
“I’m not going to let them disrespect us– you,” you grit out.
“I can handle myself, sweet girl,” he reassures you with a lopsided grin. He motions for a waiter and orders a bottle of white for the table. The brief pause has deescalated some of the tension, but you’ve yet to look at your mom for fear that you’ll want to snap all over again. Joel turns his full attention to your parents.
“Joel, I didn’t mean anything bad from what I was saying, it’s just—” Your mom is rushing to appeal to his understanding, easygoing nature, and you think to yourself she doesn’t much deserve it right now.
Joel waves a dismissive hand - water under the bridge. “Pardon me for the interruption, but you don’t need to explain yourself to me. If somebody did to my daughter what that prick did to yours, I’d probably be behind bars,” he says plainly. You swear your dad smiles for the briefest moment at that. “So I don’t take any issue with y’all wantin’ to keep her from gettin’ hurt again.”
Your mom frowns and drops her gaze. A spark of guilt nips at your gut. Maybe you weren’t being fair. Maybe you were just so keyed up from the start that any little thing was bound to set you off. When the waiter appears with the wine, you happily gulp down the entire pour. Your mom sips at hers and avoids your eye.
“Here’s to new beginnings, yeah?” Joel offers with a lift of his glass. You clink your empty cup with the rest of the table in a muted cheers. “And to the love and happiness that we all deserve,” your dad adds with a soft look in your direction. The conversation shifts to meaningless chit chat, anything safe and tame to avoid another labile interaction.
You’re happy when dinner arrives just to have something else to focus on. Without a word, Joel takes your salad and scrapes half of it onto his plate before doling out a large portion of the steak he’d ordered. He nestles the bowl back in front of you and bites back a devilish smile.
Your dad is definitely sporting a tiny grin now, no mistaking that. Your mom of course looks puzzled but thinks better of commenting. When the table is quiet long enough for it to start being awkward, your dad steps up to the plate. “Pretty dress, hon. Don’t think I’ve seen you in it before. Don’t tell me you went and bought some new digs on account of this little dinner,” he teases.
You smile softly at the compliment and taunting. “Glad you’re sitting down already because I actually did buy this not too long ago. Realized I didn’t really have any going out clothes I actually liked.” You relax into the ambiance a little and cut through Joel’s – your – steak.
“You got my daughter out here acting strange, Joel,” your dad jokes. “Can hardly convince this one to spend a dime on anything, let alone herself. Good man.”
Joel chuckles goodnaturedly. “She’s been a good influence on me. Taught me a thing or two about finances I’m ashamed to say I prolly shoulda known at this point in my life, but better late than never I guess.” He gives you a playful nudge, and you feel like melting into a happy puddle. This is really happening. You and Joel, out and about as a legitimate, bonafide pairing, having dinner with the parents. It might be the entire glass of wine you downed on an empty stomach, but you’re pretty sure Joel is what’s got you feeling so intoxicated and fuzzy brained.
“Can’t work a lawn mower worth a damn, though,” he taunts. You groan and hide your face under your palm. Your mother zeroes in immediately on the inside joke and manages to convince Joel to tell the story. He sugarcoats none of the language or tantrum involved, and your parents both crack up at the telling. “Wish I could’ve snapped a picture of her face when she came back out to see me pushin’ that thing around without a problem.”
You’re a good sport, knowing Joel somehow finds all those less than flattering aspects of your personality more endearing than damning. He seems happy just to be talking about you so freely with others who know you and know how you can get. Joel can’t help ribbing your dad about the time you called a screwdriver a “screw gun,” and you can only laugh and shrug innocently when he claims they’re gonna “take his man card” for having his daughter out here misnaming basic tools.
You’re struck by how comfortable and confident Joel seems, how effortlessly he commands the attention of the table with his amusing storytelling and magnetic charm. Your parents are both genuinely smiling and engaged with him, and your eyes start to prick with the realization that this might actually end up okay. You and Joel stepping into this serious, committed territory might be nothing more than a no brainer, a path set in motion and followed with ease because it was just waiting for you to take the step forward and begin traveling.
You feel floaty by the time Joel excuses himself to the restroom. He plants a small peck on your temple before walking towards the back of the restaurant. You know you should gauge your parents’ impression of him before letting yourself just sit there in an unmistakable, lovestruck haze, but you can’t quite find the will or the concern to do anything else but bask in it. Joel just makes it around the corner and out of sight when your dad turns to you with a shrewd stare.
“He makes you happy. Doesn’t he?” he posits.
You blink back tears and nod with a watery smile. Your dad clucks his tongue on the roof of his mouth and nods back. “You know, your mom earlier… I think she was trying to broach a subject that we– to keep from making the same mistake twice. Her and me both—” you gently shake your head, not following the train of thought “—We had our reservations about Mike, and we didn’t say anything at the time. We didn’t want to rain on your parade, you know? But, we should’ve– we both should’ve shared our concerns we had about him from the start. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that, but we regret it, hon. We really, really do. Feel like we let you down. Like we failed at being your parents.”
The blissful tears inching towards the front of your eyes were blurring into those of rueful retrospection. Of course it made sense that they hadn’t been crazy about the freshly separated, not entirely divorced, and notably older coworker you’d found your heart embedded in. He’d lived an entire life before you’d come around, and then he’d thrown all of your pivotal young adult years down the drain like you were nothing.
“Joel’s nothing like him,” you blurt out.
“And we can see that, hon, we really can,” your mom adds quickly. Her eyes are glossy and entreating, and you sniff back the impending outpour hot along your lashline. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt you, too. And we just have to be honest with you this time around, okay? If we see something, we’re just gonna have to speak on it, and I’m sorry if that’s upsetting to you.”
“We aren’t looking to make Joel pay for anybody’s sins. We just– We owe it to you to do it right this time around, Rox. Can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror if you got hurt again because we didn’t say something when we should’ve.” Your mother’s hand stays cupped in his when he reaches across the table to hold onto yours.
“It’s not your fault,” you sniff. “The only person who should be feeling bad right now is that scumbag back in Colorado. I deserve better than him, and I’m not going to let him hold me back from finding that person.”
“Of course not, of course not,” your dad agrees. “We just felt it was only fair that we be upfront with you about where we’re coming from this time around. Thankfully Joel seems like a great guy, so there’s no need to get the pitchforks out just yet.”
You snort and roll your eyes at the much welcomed turn to levity in the conversation. “Yeah, well, he’s a really good guy, and I know the more you get to know him the more you’re gonna love him.”
“Like you do?” your mom presses.
“Like I do what?”
“We’ll love him, like you love him?” she probes.
“I-I… um… I need to use the bathroom,” you announce as you stand and skitter the direction Joel headed what seems like 400 years ago. Without a second glance, you round the same corner he’d taken and make a beeline for the women’s restrooms. You’re not even cognizant enough to be startled when Joel pulls you into him.
“Where you runnin’ off to?” His smile falters when he sees the barely contained tears, and then his hands are cupping your face until you tell him what happened. You give him the quickest recap possible - dutifully excluding the part where you’d run off before having to answer your mom’s question about whether or not you were in love with Joel - and promise it’s nothing major. After the fourth time of asking if you were sure you were okay, you turn the questioning onto his whereabouts during the whole thing. You’re prepared to be annoyed with his answer, but the wind goes right out of your sails when he reveals he had given his card to the waiter to handle the bill and placed a to-go order for some dessert “in case you weren’t full from the half steak half salad.”
You don’t even allow yourself to sit with the genuine kindness and thoughtfulness oozing from Joel right now. You’re about two seconds from an emotional whiplash cry session, and you want to finish the night on a good note. Joel kisses you lightly across the forehead while he brings you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity to talk low and private.
“When we get home, I want you to turn my cervix into a dick punching bag,” you rasp. You meant for it to come out more joking than it did, but your abrupt detour into sexual frustration turned that intention right on its head.
Joel groans and sneaks a handful of your ass into the hand closest to the wall and out of sight of passerby. “Fuckin’ nasty. Baby needs some stress relief and it gets her talkin’ real filthy, huh?”
You look up to him with wide doe eyes and nod urgently. He sucks in a breath and looks to the ceiling like he’s collecting himself. He adjusts the crotch of his pants and crowds you against the wall. His breath is hot against your cheek when he murmurs, “Don’t wanna hear it later when I’ve got you pinned down with nowhere to go but to just take it, you understand?”
You gulp back a moan and bob your head yes. “S’good. S’real good because I ain’t gonna let up until that pussy is all beat to hell and raw from my cock, you hear me?”
“Oh my god,” you whimper. You rub your thighs together at the mental images he’s conjuring.
“See you back at the table, baby,” he toys. He waggles his eyebrows and is gone with the turn of a heel. You practically sprint into the bathroom and slap a towel drenched in cold water around the back of your neck. When you finally calm down enough to return to the table, Joel helps you into your chair and informs you that your parents will be joining the two of you at his house for a home cooked meal after they get back from their cruise. He manages to keep the mood friendly and light for the rest of the dinner, and your dad doesn’t even get weird about the bill when he’s informed Joel has already taken care of it.
By dad code, that has to count for something, right? Not turning it into a pissing contest over who’s going to cover the tab was as good a sign as any that he definitely liked Joel. Your mom’s full on squeeze hug and cheek pat settled any lingering doubts. Your parents like Joel. You think Joel likes your parents, too. Despite a minor hiccup at the beginning, everyone had come out unscathed. Hell, you already had plans for them to spend more time with you and Joel as a couple.
You say your goodbyes to your parents and wave them off as their valet arrives. You’re awash in the swell of your successful night as Joel walks you to his truck. You’ve got that silly, happy smile plastered across your face. You can feel it pushing your cheeks against your temples with the intensity of it. You’re brought back to earth when you see that Joel has not only opened the passenger door for you but has the rear passenger door opened as far as it will go without hitting the empty car next to his truck. You’re boxed in by the doors and the cars. Joel tosses the container of dessert onto his dash and flings your purse onto the floor of the passenger seat.
“Hey! I don’t even think it’s zipp–”
The sheer heft and heat of Joel slams into you from the back and pins you against the seat. Your arms fly up and onto the seat as you try to catch your balance. Your next round of indignant complaint is halted when Joel curves himself flush against you, arms resting atop your own. He grinds slow and steady against your backside. Your breath hitches at the feel of him fully thick and hard for you.
“You see what you fuckin’ do to me?” he grunts against the side of your head. “Wearin’ this pretty thing. Bein’ so goddamn beautiful all dinner. Then seein’ me in the back and beggin’ me to fuck you so hard your pussy goes all bruised from me slamming my cock into you. Gonna fuck you so hard I gotta kiss it all better after, huh? S’that what you want?”
“Oh sh-shit,” you gasp.
Without waiting for your stunned response, Joel shoves your dress up to your hips and kneels between your legs. His mouth is on you in seconds, and you bite into your arm to stifle the surprised sound trying to claw its way out of you. He licks into you with blinding need and only stops working you with his fingers just long enough to free his dick from his pants and start jerking himself off.
“Fuck yeah, all mine,” he growls into your sloppy wet heat. He smears some of the mess from his mouth and chin onto his hand and tugs himself harder with the added lubrication. He slips two fingers into you and works them in tandem with his stroking. You bend your head as far as it will go and drink in the sight of Joel crouched on his knees in the middle of a parking lot with your slick glistening all over his face in the dull glow of the streetlight. He locks eyes with you and grins like he knows a secret.
“You’re mine now, yeah?” He hooks his fingers and plunges them faster. Your legs start to tremble.
“Y-Yes! Mine. Yours!” you choke out.
“Gonna let me have this pussy all out in the open if I want it, huh? Got me so wound up I can’t even wait ‘til I get you home. Bet you’d like it if somebody came walkin’ by right now and saw me claimin’ this pussy all to myself.”
You sob out a moan at the thought. Joel buries himself between your legs again and sends vibrations through you with every grunt and growl. You tense against the seat when your orgasm comes barreling out of nowhere, and you cling onto the truck for dear life when your legs start to give. Joel shoves his head up into you harder, licking and slurping up your cum at the same time he presses you against the car for support. He pulls back with a heaving inhale and grips at the fat of your ass as he erupts between your spread legs and onto the concrete in thick splats.
He stands and meets the heavy rise and fall of your chest with his own. “Goddamn perfect,” he pants. You reach a hand behind you and scratch against his scalp. He leans into your mouth and kisses into it like he’s putting the final mark of his claim onto you. He tucks himself back into his trousers and rights your dress before helping you into the truck. You can feel your arousal wetting into the fabric of your dress beneath your ass in the seat, another indication of who you belong to - officially.
That little mark of pleasure had ruined your dress. You cast a pitiful frown to where the still visible line of demarcation had resisted all intervention the dry cleaners could muster. You were supposed to be meeting Sarah in a few days when she got into town, and now you had no cute evening dress in the event you went out together. You make it through a few household chores and a handful of work calls before calling it a day an hour and a half earlier than usual. It wasn’t like you to dip out before you were scheduled, but you didn’t have anything as pressing as your ruined dress.
You drag your feet the entire 2 minute walk into Joel’s house. “Joellllll,” you call out. His truck was in the driveway, wasn’t it? So he should be here. You call out for him again with the added news that he “officially owed you a new dress after ruining the green one.” Just as you’re starting to get concerned with the silence, the stairs creek. You round the corner with a heavy pout. “You ruined my dress!”
The bright set of eyes and impish smile that greeted you were an echo of Joel’s but not quite his own. You recognize her from the hundreds of photos Joel had shared with you. Sarah. Days early and looking increasingly amused and curious at your presence.
“Ruined your dress, huh?” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall. Her grin spreads the longer you blink silently back at her. “Should be an interesting story.”
Your cheeks burn, and you don’t think she’d be as amused if she knew just how right she is.
part 2 coming tomorrow :)
#fic: a weight off your shoulders#joel miller x plus size reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters
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Long distance relationship sengen 😊
here's some sketches and tiny comics that i started on after the end of the manga.
these take place during the time skip
i thought it would be hilarious if senku sent the video phone to gen but didn't assemble it before sending it over. but he made an instruction manual and everything so gen would have to put it together himself :D
I even wrote up a lil bit were xeno tells stan about how senku's gonna send the phone in parts "he's made a manual and everything" and xeno thinks a project like that would take forever for someone like gen, but stan says "nah, I give him 2, 3 weeks tops." and then they make a bet 😂 i wish i drew those up :P
and since i absolutely hate the time machine and the idea that they would mine other planets for resources only so that they can go back in time and stop the petrification from ever happening, i've decided that senku just goes back in time to see his dad and tell him that all the things he left behind got them to the point where they are now able to time travel :) that's way sweeter to me. so my idea for this is senku likes to tell gen when he's asleep on their video calls that he's building a time machine and this is his plan. 🥺
i realized after drawing it that gen would probably know before-hand if his camera placement was off but...maybe he's tired 🥺
imagine in that last image that gen is sawing logs 😂 snoooorrk mimimimimi (i mean that's not the mood but it makes me laugh)
also i had to download japanese fonts for that おやすみ on the screen 👀 so fonts make more sense to me now lol
i like to imagine that senku would take some time during those years to fly out to where ever gen is, on the guise of picking up new talent for his lab or whatever lame excuse he needs :p
congrats getting through this lol tell me your time-skip headcannons (doesn't have to be sengen related either) and what you think of that blasted time machine :)
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kiriko headcannons
gn!reader | first post, requests are SUPER open :] (seriously, how do i resize that damn big ass punk ass fucking spotify embed on my post? i want it a little smaller.)
how you two met / how she confessed
It was high school when you two got to know each other—through an art project.
“INSTRUCTIONS: draw your partner.” That’s where everything started.
She adores your features, how you stare with those eyes and look back at your sketchbook immediately. God, that made her thought things.
Well, you on the other hand didn’t think much about her. You wanted the year to be over already and get this over with.
Months passed, and she is still your partner, well, for an art subject only. The teacher decided to keep it that way, saving time.
This time, “INSTRUCTIONS: photograph a scenery. Images from the Internet are strictly prohibited.”
You love taking pictures, you were ecstatic and looked forward to it.
The two of you decided to meet, outside of the school, her heart couldn’t help but beat faster than average when she saw you wearing something much different than the usual uniform from school.
“Wow, you look great!” she grins, hoping you wouldn’t notice her blush under the gold sunlight overhead. It was afternoon, a good time you can take mesmerizing pictures, you thought at home.
You smile with your eyes, “Thank you, Kiriko.”
“How do we do this again?” she asks, hands on her hip, trying to act cool. Staring and observing the waving fields of wheat, the air whistling in her ear.
“Take scenery photos, of course.” You say, the camera on hand, you and a plushy fox displayed from the small screen.
Kiriko immediately pointed it out. “That’s you?” she asked.
You smile at her, “Yeah, and my favorite toy.” Kiriko somewhat feels at ease that you have a toy fox as a childhood toy.
“Her name’s Kiriko.”
“WHAT?”
Kiriko feels creeped out and happy at the same time, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, don’t you like it?” you tease.
Kiriko feels a blockage in her throat. “Well, I do like it.” she decided that this is the perfect timing and the perfect place to confess. SHE. MUST. DO. IT. NO. MATTER. WHAT.
“But I like you more.”
Silence. Birds twittering overhead, the air still whistling, something has been dropped and it’s Kiriko’s feelings.
“Kiriko, what are you trying to say?” you ask her, trying to make sure this isn’t a prank or some sort because somehow you like her as well. The time you spent together as art project partners is much more.
Kiriko’s face turned super red and hid her face with her hands. “I’M SAYING THAT I HAVE ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR YOU AND I WANT US TO BE TOGETHER MORE THAN THIS.” She screamed at the top of her lungs.
ok am gonna fucking cut it here because this is getting way too long. i’ll let your stupid big brain imagine.
how she acts in the relationship
After a long day, she would jump and cuddle with you on bed— like a fox dive into the snow!
Kiriko makes weird positions on bed (NOT THE SEXUAL WAY GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER), you would wake up to her head locking you. Sometimes, she would sleep diagonally, or half of her body is on the floor, or she’s on the floor completely, totally passed out and no one will stop her from waking up.
Kiriko got pinched by a crab when you two were cooking together. The whole unit heard her screeching for 2 minutes straight.
Whenever she gets injured, she wouldn’t heal herself because she wants YOU to take care of her instead. Take all of the attention.
Kiriko would claim your things when she likes it. “Your shirt is so comfy, can I have it?” “Your shoes are so soft; I shall claim it as mine!” “Your jacket—” “JUST TAKE IT.”
Kiriko sometimes shows up at your work place on her bike before taking you on a date with sunglasses on and a red jacket. You feel proud for her yet so embarrassed of how many eyes and whispers are occurring.
Kiriko builds a pillow fort for you after a long day
She loves your neck, cheek and forehead to kiss on.
She loves when you trace her red marks under her eyes. Makes her feel fuzzy.
Buys stupid lovey dovey couple rings or necklaces for each other.
Teaches you sign language.
Whenever you wash the dishes, she would come for a flank attack. Back hugs!
Shows you her childhood photos without any feel of judgement.
Kiriko would name her plant after you.
Kiriko would write your name somewhere whenever she misses you or away from you.
You are mostly the driver and Kiriko is the DJ in the relationship.
Kiriko would peel oranges just for you. Also, peanuts. (Unless you’re allergic LOL L + RATIO BOZO COMMON W)
it’s not home without her <333333333333333333333333333
#Spotify#kirikoxreader#overwatchxreader#overwatch2xreaderr#overwatch 2#ow2#kiriko kamori#gaystuff#kiriko#overwatchfanfics#i love overwatch#overwatch x reader#kiriko x reader#kiriko kamori x reader#overwatch x gn
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This is so sweet, I love them almost as much as they love each other.
The sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter, who apparently spotted Eda & King riding on shooting star. The pursue on their staffs, Camila getting a ride from Amity and perfectly representing what I think 99.8% of all people would be like the first time they rode of a flying staff.
They land in Bonesborough, finding it to be abandoned and desolate. There are signs of life, with yet more graffiti and vandalism that has taken place since after the Day of Unity. In this screenshot in particular, there is a drawing of The Collector’s symbol, as well as warnings to run and hide or ”they” will find you. Presumably, those star minions The Collector sent out before. Most doors and windows are also boarded up, to keep those minions out.
There is something about how this is an almost post-apocalyptic scenario that is symbolized by a bunch of bright, colorful cartoon stars being lodged in the ground, roofs, and walls everywhere that I find… entertaining, I guess? Not sure how to describe it.
I don’t know what it is about this image, but it makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up. Or maybe I just need to lower my screen brightness.
…NOPE! Still utterly terrifying and horrifying and a bunch of other synonyms for ”disturbing” and ”scary.”
Hunter noticed a wall of sparkles come flying towards them ,and the gang narrowly managed to tae cover before a huge wave of magic washed over the town square. The result once it subsided was this sugar pink nightmare. Just like what we saw happen with Hooty and Lilith earlier, we see here that at least a good portion of the Boiling Isles’ population has been turned into puppets.
I’m pretty sure that’s one of Willow’s dads there on the left. And once the camera pans a bit to the right, I spot two students from Hexside.
So. Does this mean The Collector and King are close by, brought here during their game of Owl House? And The Collector decided to spruce up the place a little so it wouldn’t look so drab and miserable?
Hurray! The easily manipulated god is here to save us from the situation he… put us in… huh.
I was right, The Collector, and King were in the neighborhood and this is all part of the game. The Collector arranged for this nice, idyllic town to be attacked by the horrible Owlbeast so that he and King could swoop in and save the day!
I gotta say, this image actually goes kinda hard. And you know what? I chose to believe that in this one instance, the background music is diegetic. If The Collector can conjure up everything else, then they can make some heroic music to underscore this triumphant moment.
(so, uh… Eda’s looking a lot more… faceless than usual. what’s up with that?)
…turns out that what was up with that was that that was not Eda at all. Not even the Owlbeast, but rather Terra in disguise.
I legitimately burst out laughing when I saw this. This was so funny to me.
On a slightly more relevant note… The Collector uses a ”light glyph” to subdue the beast and make it turn back to normal. Kinda like how Luz in The Intruder used her newly discovered light glyph to make Eda turn back to normal. I do wonder, I do wonder… it’d be kinda interesting if The Collector and King’s game of Owl House actually paralleled the plot of The Owl House. It’d kinda make sense for King to use story beats inspired by the real adventures of him and his family.
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So I remembered this one concept I made some years ago and I just wanted to sketch and talk about it
I talked about how maybe I needed a design overhaul, but since I’m not really sure how to do that, I went back to @droolingdemon imitation for now. Or at least, semi that. I wouldn’t say it looks…anything like their work
I had a lot of fun with the rough sketching of this group (Callous was a bit difficult though with his demon form), but realized I need to also do sketches of them that were nicer, which I had less fun with. Don’t think it turned out too bad though, I just need to figure out how to do sketch lines in this style, since I instead just do straight line art. Though maybe it’s also because I’m always looking at the reference image (the smaller screen of the entire picture thing). I don’t think I used that back when I first did the imitation style
I definitely messed up Callous’s hands in the bottom left though. I wasn’t really thinking about them tbh
But anyways, how about I talk about the characters here?
You know, I think I’m gonna try and be more concise with my points on the plot. I feel like with these things I ramble too much and it starts to become a bit incoherent
Okay, so basically this takes place in a world where humans summon demons from their realm via magic scrolls as basically servants. Our main human character, Pawky, summons a demon from a newly appeared scroll, this being our main demon character Callous, to help her with a quest by being her bodyguard, and that’s pretty much how the plot gets going
I don’t think I ever actually decided what quest she’s actually going on or what they’re doing. I haven’t worked on this for a very long time and a lot of the plot points that might have been there are lost on me. The things I do remember are vaguely how the demon thing works and Callous’s backstory. Mostly since I think those are the things I actually thought about
But I do know the two become friends by the end
So I’ve drawn Callous before, a long time ago, but I’ve never drawn Pawky, which was basically what I was trying to do here
Here’s the original drawing
I like how their designs look in the end though, at least the final pic (bottom right). Need to work on Callous’s demon form though
Okay so first up, origins. Of the story I mean
So basically this thing was inspired by this one au I saw back in my Dragon Ball days (so junior year high school) of basically a monster au, in which witch Bulma summons demon Vegeta for reasons I don’t remember. I don’t remember if it was part of a larger au or this was its own thing, since they did have a full on monster au too. Basically I just took the concept and made it original. Though I did later take out the romance aspect as I changed Callous. But the inspiration may be seen somewhat in their hair
Anyways, so let’s start with the whole demon summoning thing and how it works
Basically how it works is that demons get summoned with scrolls that end up magically appearing in the human world, and with summoning, demons can enter it
There’s different “levels” of demons depending on their power, with the low level ones being your common enemies like slimes and skeletons, stuff like that. They’re generally summoned in groups for proper effectiveness. Then there’s the middle group, which are usually part of a species, but are more powerful than the common enemies, things like manticores and such, but aren’t powerful enough to stand on their own. Then there’s the high level demons, who are so powerful they get their own personal scrolls
Callous is a high level demon
Now granted, the levels are a spectrum, there’s a big difference between the weakest member of the middle level and the strongest, while there likely isn’t as much between that weakest member and the strongest member of the low level. But there is a separation somewhere. Callous technically lies somewhere on the lower end of his spectrum
Demon scrolls usually pop up in the human realm once a demon is old enough or powerful enough, with Callous being the former
Now as for demon summoning, you can’t just do it willy nilly, it takes practice and training, sort of like alchemy in Full Metal Alchemist. And the higher level a demon, the more difficult they are to summon. But when summoned correctly, a demon will appear and the two strike a bargain, the human asking for them to do something, and the demon having to carry that out so that they can return to the demon realm. Though technically speaking it’s not really a bargain, the demons don’t have much say in what they have to do. And while the demon is summoned, they basically have to cater to the summoner’s wishes
If the imbalance of power seems unfair, yeah. I think the lore is that demons and humans fought a war that the humans ultimately (somehow) won, and this is the demons’ punishment for it
One big thing with demon summoning is that if someone of too little experience and power tries to summon a far more powerful demon, they run a very high risk of dying in the process, if not certain risk. And if a summoner dies while summoning a demon, then demons are ultimately left in a loophole where they can go about the demon realm with no limitations, which generally isn’t good. There are people who hunt down those rogue demons, but generally speaking to prevent these sorts of things, there are strict regulations and laws when it comes to distributing demon scrolls, to minimize the risk of this happening. Pawky is someone of a high enough experience that she can summon someone like Callous no problem
Also I’m just remembering, I think there may have been a character who was a Goku stand-in in this story, who’s one of these demon hunters. He’s a very friendly guy, but he has an absolute hatred of demons for one reason or another, and this puts him in conflict with Callous, who is a demon. He might not know Callous’s true nature due to him using a human disguise
I don’t remember why he’s using a human disguise, just that he is
Anyways so I think I’ve just about covered the world building, let’s finally get in to the characters, starting with Pawky
So I don’t have much to say on Pawky, mostly because I don’t remember much about her, if I even wrote stuff about her. She’s spunky and sassy, and she’s good at summoning demons. Also she’s an adult at least in her 20s. I don’t…really have much, that’s about it
As for Callous, he has a lot more going on
So Callous is a manticore, which is a mid level demon class, but he was able to rise up to a high level status on his own. Not only that but he was originally to be of a relatively high ranking in his own race (which is why he has horns like he does). As such he’s very prideful of his abilities and doesn’t take too kindly to being stooped to something as demeaning as being some human’s bodyguard
Now I’m sure you may notice that he’s got something weird about his back, and also that he doesn’t have wings (I know not all manticores have wings, but plenty do, including here). Well he originally did have wings, and quite nice ones that that. But at a young age, the manticore group he was part of was basically exterminated by another, much more powerful demon, with him as the only survivor, and he had his wings ripped off by this other demon, who takes body parts of other demons and basically just attaches them to their own body, becoming this patchwork demon. The copious amount of scars on Callous’s back in the original are from him scratching his own back because of the pain he feels about what happened and to cover up that he ever had wings in the first place, as he sees him losing them as incredibly shameful
Yeah, don’t know why I have him a backstory like that. But that patchwork demon is still out there, with Callous’s old wings, and Callous has a chip on his shoulder from the incident. That demon would probably show up sometime later in the story
Another thing to note is how in his human form, I called out in the sketch that he’s supposed to be small and skinny, which is also supposed to be demonstrated in the bottom right pic, to which Pawky is confused by his non threatening appearance. He’s also supposed to look like a teenager in this form. This is because when a demon goes into a human form, it’s essentially them if they were humans. So what this amounts to for Callous is that despite his appearance in demon form, in comparison to other manticores, he is pretty tiny, and in manticore years only a teenager. His small size is because he was malnourished and had his growth stunted after the extermination of his people. However it might take Pawky some time to realize the reason why Callous looks the way he does in human form
So in reality Callous is actually a tiny 16 year old with a lot of trauma, and ego to compensate
Now let’s talk about Callous’s abilities. Generally he’s just got great strength and sharp fangs and claws, but he also has natural poison/acid that comes from his mouth and stinger.
…Thought I’d have more to say on that front but no. But one thing I have is that he’s a carnivore, and while he’d love to eat human flesh, they usually aren’t fighting enough people to do so, so he just settles for large animals he finds, and he uses the acid in his mouth to essentially melt his prey while tearing an eating it. He’s an incredibly messy and loud eater. Pawky finds his way of eating absolutely disgusting and so makes him eat somewhere where she can’t see and generally hear him
And I think that finally about covers it
I realize now I don’t actually have a title for this. Hmm, was there a name for it? …I don’t remember, nor can I really think of one, other than like, Summoners, but that’s lame. I’m not good with title
But yeah, I hope you enjoyed this
#so I didn’t keep things concise#I still need to work on that#also if you’re wondering why their names are what they are#it’s bc Witch Hunt had a naming scheme and I thought that was cool#so here everyone is named after adjectives#which is kind of weird#but I’m not changing their names#original characters#pawky#callous#my art#I’ll come up with a title some other time#character design
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Case File: Poe - Devlog 1: Planning, Concept, and Art Style!
I posted my first devlog for Case File: Poe on my site, but I’ll post it here too! It's about the art planning and concept progress so far :)
It's a little long but keep reading below to read more!
Whenever I come up with an idea for a new game or comic, I usually always like to start with the characters first. However, for Case File: Poe, the premise came to me first while I was working on my previous game, Dolchio. With the rough plot in mind, I sketched out some character designs and realized that I didn’t like them or feel attached to them at all lol.
So I thought I'd use some old character designs and find a way to stick them into this new game! So that’s how three of the four main cast members were added to the game (Poe, Rokio, and Morg). With the characters decided, I could move on to writing and conceptualizing how the game would look and play; Without the characters and loose plot, it’s really difficult for me to write or do anything else.
Now that the characters are out of the way, it’s time to write! Which I’m gonna talk about in another devlog because writing this story is my poor little brain work harder than it ever has in years…!! I thought Hansel had a complicated story, but this one is a whole different beast and I’m honestly having some trouble staying organized. But I’m hoping it’ll pay off in the end! No worries though, I’d say the writing is about 70% complete as of posting this devlog, and I started back in February 2022! :] Here’s a blurry image of one of the many several writing/outlining/planning pages I’ve done hehe (blurred for no spoilers!)
Moving on, now I could start drawing. I don’t like drawing until I have a good chunk of the writing done because I don’t want to have wasted some time drawing something and then end up scrapping it if I decide to change the game around later. I originally had planned for Case File: Poe to be a top-down RPG, like Hansel or other standard RPG make games. So I drew a few character sprites for the game and played around with different styles. But I wanted the game window size to be larger, and forcing full screen on the game would make it look weird if I used small pixel art. So I tried making bigger sprites, or even upscaling them. Long story short, I had to scrap the RPG style and go for something else.
I knew that because of the nature of the game, a strict sidescroller like the style of Dolchio wouldn’t work the best because I want the player to be able to explore the map. While the sidescrolling style would allow for some exploration, it was more suited for Dolchio’s linear storytelling where exploration wasn’t as integral to beating the game. That’s not the case for this game, as it is about a mystery. Exploring and gathering evidence is the most important part! So I had to go all the way back to the drawing board and play some other games to find some inspiration.
And so I did find some gameplay inspiration from games such as Ace Attorney, Professor Layton, Shin Megami Tensei, Danganronpa, Your Turn to Die, Virtue’s Last Reward, and 13 Sentinels.
With RPG Maker MV’s clicking/Mouse support, I figured out what I had to do! Like a clicking adventure game, I was going to have to make a game where the player can explore the whole environment by directly interacting with it and its characters. With that in mind, I started creating concept art and sketching out some of the art for the game!
So with plot, gameplay ideas, characters, and concepts are out of the way for now, I could move on to thinking about the general art aesthetic that I’d like: I want Case File: Poe to look good. Like, really REALLY good and I’m afraid that my art skills aren’t at that level yet. I don’t it to look or feel like an RPG maker game. So why not just use another game engine?? I’ve made some stuff using Game Maker Studio and I’m confident with it and I could use that but… I like using RPG maker!! It’s fun hehe >:]
Regarding the art, it just means that I have to practice some more and actually take my time on it. Seriously, I usually don’t have the patience to take my time drawing and so I like to rush and finish all my pieces under an hour. It’s a bad habit, I know!! Which is why I’m forcing myself to sit down and not rush through the art, and to make myself polish the artwork as much as I can! And so, yesterday I completed a cutscene CG test where I took all of the time I needed to get an idea of how much time I would need to set aside for the art of the game. This CG took me a little over 3 hours instead.
And I’m definitely happy with the way it came out!! Yes! The game is coming together in my head! Next, I have to figure out the interface, world map, other graphic design stuff but I’ll leave those for later. My priority now is to finish writing the game and start the script. After that, I can go ham on the art and theeennnn start the programming!
I know this was a long read, but thanks for reading through it! Hopefully I can get these devlogs up regularly that way I can make myself consistently work on the game. :]
#rpgmaker#rpgmaker dev#gamedev#game development#indie game#RPG Maker MV#case file: poe#case file: poe (game)#devlog#update#art
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Screen Protector Works!
I decided to see if I could draw my characters without painstakingly rendering their heads in another doc and then copy-pasting them wherever I needed them. Also without erasing or touching the line tool. I guess so? But I still need to look at my cheat sheets. I may have a bit of an imagination deficit, autism-related or no. Situations, yes. Objects in space? Ah, no.
I dunno if that reads as John, but that's certainly how he feels. I am, indeed, completing his narrative arc - for now. I will not stop. More character development is coming! But maybe he can have a doughnut when he's all done with his latest freakout. If the lion doesn't eat them all. (I am not kidding, there is a lion and he will totally eat the doughnuts.)
The spouse says "just trying my gay little best" is T-shirt gold. Maybe I'll do you some printable designs when I'm ready to art for serious.
I get way better art results if I make a reference and trace it. I have a lot of ways to generate references, but I mainly cut and paste public domain stuff. I used to steal stock photos, 'cos I started out making my references and then drawing them on paper, but tracing might get me in trouble if the end result resembles the original too much. After an attempt to pay for photos like a good consumer, I got annoyed with the cut corporations take. And now that there's all this AI shit in the public domain, I'm looking into buying a digital model. I probably won't find one with, like, a toaster, but hands, bodies and some basic props are possible.
In other news, I'm trying to clean and organize my shit on this new computer and:
I MISS SHADING! WAAAH!
I used to be so good at making things look wet! And hair! I know why I quit, and the eyestrain is still a factor, but I wanna do it that way. I don't like shadow puppets anymore! I'm pretty sure I stole the shape of those headphones off some Amazon product information, but all the shading and texturing is me... and pattern-fill, but... Look! I even did some freckles! I can do that if I cause myself pain, and pain is so fleeting! I don't even remember!
*sigh* I'm not gonna try it. I'm not. Not right now. I don't have the stamina. I WANT the stamina, but that means eye exercises, every day, for I dunno how long. Probably forever, though I must assume they won't hurt as much later. But I dunno if I'll ever be able to put the time into an image like that again. I got, like, a half hour drawing time right now, max. That's not even long enough to remember how I used to do that in Paint.net. It's barely enough to get used to the screen protector.
God, I know every smooth line in that is the shape tool or the line tool. That's bonkers. Maybe if I get used to GIMP again I'll be able to draw faster. Even with the screen protector, Paint.net captures my wobbles - as is evident. What a difference a digital assist makes.
#tin soldier and soldier on#art#i can draw better than this#i have proof#but i sure do need a photo or a model or an svg silhouette or something#i am not spatial#“hey i should try sketching john!”#“...wh-where does the nose go? no that's not it...”#cut and paste and mod first ALWAYS cut and paste and mod first
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Wake up y’all new warriors oc just dropped
Inspired by the song “The Milk Carton” by Madilyn Mei! I listened to it once and was like “I’m obsessed. Time to warrior cats-ify this” as one does with their hyperfixations
This fellow was a kittypet named Milk whose owners put on nature documentaries when they left home. Now, this is fine irl, but I imagine in a world were cats have human-level intelligence this would probably not do great things to their brain.
Milk ended up running off to explore the cool world on the tv, and immediately got hopelessly lost and generally just had a bad time.
They ran into a kit from a clan, who had also wandered away and gotten lost. The two didn’t actually like each other that much, but were lonely enough to hang around anyway.
They wander around until the kit starts to recognize where they are, then end up getting chased by coyotes (not Milk’s first experience with that). Milk realizes the kit isn’t fast enough to escape and tells them to keep going, then whirls around and attacks the coyotes.
This doesn’t really go well. Milk is almost killed by them, but at the last minute the clan, warned by the kit Milk saved, jumps in and manages to chase the coyotes off. Milk joins the clan and after some time as an apprentice earns a warrior name! I’ve yet to decide what it is, but “coyote” has gotta be part of it
[Image ID: two drawings of the same cat (Milk) overlapping on a dark blue background. One drawing is a very cute cartoon-y drawing of Milk running across the screen and looking rather distressed. Beneath them is a bunch of stylized grass, flowers and leaves, some being kicked up by them. Above and behind this is a more realistic and detailed drawing of Milk from the chest up, with dark shading pushing them into the background. They have a scar shaped like a bite-mark on their shoulder that isn’t present in the drawing below. They’ve got a cheeky look on their face, with an open mouth that implies they’re speaking the text that’s on the drawing. The text is in cutesy bubble letters and says “you’re gonna be eaten by a coyote!” End ID]
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Okay question
How the FUCK do you give rvb ocs armor
I made 3 rvb ocs completely on impulse inspired by TLRH and I'm in hell (Their names are Crusader, Viper and Bombastic btw). How do you do this /gen
Ok first of all you HAVE to tell me about your OC's sometime!! Second, this is gonna be a long-winded answer, so I apologize in advance lol.
From a Character Design Standpoint:
When I came up with the characters I made for TLRH, I had a general idea of what their personalities would be like, and used that as a reference point for what THEY should look like.
For example, I knew I wanted Fox to basically be Kimball's polar opposite in terms of personality and methodology. Kimball has a more "hearts and minds" philosophy (imo) and Fox has a more "shock and awe" philosophy. So I decided to give Fox armor that reflected their differences.
Fox's armor is dark and pointy. Kimball's is light and curved. Both of them have the light blue markings, however, because they both hold leadership positions.
You can kinda see the differences in this (very old) drawing of them together.
From a Technical Standpoint:
When coming up with armor, I'll usually just google "Halo 4 armor" or something similar and look for either official concept art or 3D turn-arounds of the models found in-game. The latter can generally be found on Artstation.
I also like to kitbash armor sets like so:
This was done by grabbing pieces of armor from this poster of all the Halo 4 armor and bashing them together until I got what I wanted. This was how I came up with the armor for both Fox and Sampson. (The only downside to this method is that it's limited to only Halo 4 armor and doesn't have the Prefect or ODST armor sets.)
Honestly the hardest part of figuring out what kind of armor to give a character is learning the NAME of a particular set of armor so you can look it up on Google Images. Usually though, if you search for something like "Halo 5 helmets" you should be able to find something like this that at least gives you some names. And then you can go from there.
Here's some links that can be helpful also:
Vanity - Allows you to build a character with the armor from Halo Reach. Works similarly to a character customization screen.
405th armory - 3D models of ALL Halo armor from every game. You'll need to download and learn how to use a 3D modeling software (like Blender) to actually benefit from this link.
Also, if you're able to, buying the Master Chief collection can be a great resource too. All the games allow you to customize your Spartan so you can grab references for their armor, or just see what your character would look like! It's definitely not the cheapest option, but depending on what you're trying to do, it can be worth it.
Anyways, hope that helps! :D
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"You took what someone else made as the basis for a new work and you didn't even credit the original creator"
I sew, I don't know who designed the fabric or the pattern, and, the way the production of those things works, if it wasn't designed by someone already famous, you're not going to know.
"What you have created wouldn't look the same if you hadn't used what someone else had already made"
Again, that's how sewing works. Choosing fabric for a pattern is part of the creative process of it. Yes, you can draft your own patterns from scratch and you can design prints to be produced on demand by places like Spoonflower, or you can learn screen printing or other traditional fabric surface treatments yourself, but those have never been requirements to qualify for handmade garments to count as original works by the person sewing.
(these apply to other handicraft arts like buying beads to make into jewelry, too)
"It's not art if a human mind didn't decide on every element in the piece, no matter how much the human mind may have refined the parameters and presentation of the image"
Gonna get snarky here and ask what you think of how that applies to Ansel Adams's work
I'm not saying don't hate algorithm generated images. If you don't like them, for whatever reason, then you don't like them.
I'm just saying, from my specific and personal point of view as someone who sews, as someone whose Mom was constantly making beaded jewelry, as someone whose Dad was a hobby photographer mostly of nature or other forms of randomness, that some of your arguments against algorithm generated art sure seem to come close to either being arguments against those other forms of art, or trying to say that those other forms of art clearly aren't part of the discussion (when a big part of the discussion is that there are no clear boundaries in art), or the arguments are just plain saying that handicrafts and hobby photography aren't art at all
also:
"They disrespect the artistic process, providing output without an artist"
I know it hurts, but the sheer volume of art that is stolen and sold for profit, or reposted without credit, or commissioned for the cheapest rates possible regardless of who the artist is, or churned out as fast fashion (especially that looks nothing like the stolen image used to sell it) or is recast from existing items, has already shown how little most people care about who makes the art and how
Again, I am not arguing for or against algorithm generated art here, just saying that some of the language people use against it kinda stings when your own art is not based in drawing or painting
(Yes, I very much think of the post that was like "Not all art needs shippable characters," followed by very long responses about how people who look down on shipping are misguided, only for the person behind the original post to say, basically, "Ship all the characters you want, but I have been told explicitly that art is worthless if it doesn't contain shippable characters. My art is spinning and weaving."
Just...please consider how to defend your own art form without stepping on the art forms of others, and, no, adding "you know I didn't mean you/didn't mean it like that" doesn't count.)
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Mooore tooniverse designs for the canon disney characters + any OC family members they might have to fill gaps. (ie most characters not wearing gloves or shoes because i hate drawing them) but their designs are generally adapted from canon appearances! They’re mostly actors in the Tooniverse, so I’ve also written out what their personalities are like off-screen under the cut :)
Here we have Ortensia’s family! Pinky is an OC.
Jazzy Pickles “J.P.” Whiskers - Jazzy was always pretty stoic and uptight- one of the reasons he started going by J.P. since he thought both his first and middle names were silly sounding. He’s stubborn and has a hard time letting go of things, which is something he’s trying to fix about himself. He was extremely disapproving of Oswald when he and Ortensia first began to date for a lot of reasons, one of which being that he didn’t believe acting was a real job, and he was convinced that Ortensia was just in a rebellious phase, despite her being in her twenties at the time. She ended up cutting contact with him for several decades (Toons can live upwards of like 290 years), but recently he’s reconnected with her and Oswald and is attempting to make amends for the past, because he didn’t want to die estranged from his family.
Homer Whiskers - Ortensia’s little brother. Mischievous and a bit of a trouble maker, the one on the sheet is him as a grown adult. He’s the spitting image of his dad! Inspired by his big sister Orsie (as he calls her), he became a voice actor and a podcast host. He’s a prankster and likes to lovingly torment Oswald. When Ortensia cut contact with J.P., she remained in touch with Homer, much to his relief.
Ortensia Whiskers - The Queen Herself! I decided to put her in green because I think it matches Oswald nicely, and also it’s different than Minnie and Daisy. Ortensia’s a bit shy, but very sweet and kind once you’re able to get past that. She’s no pushover, though- she isn’t afraid to tell people what she thinks, and she’s inherited her fathers’ stubbornness- if she doesn’t like you, you’re gonna have to try really hard to change that. She’d always wanted to be an actress and a mother, and now she’s chasing after both of those dreams. Oswald thinks every atom in her body is a blessing to the planet.
Pinky Whiskers - Ortensia’s mom! She’s an OC, and I don’t know a whole lot about her. I think she probably had a very similar personality to Ortensia before she unfortunately passed away when Homer was born, due to complications with childbirth. J.P. misses her dearly.
#ortensia the cat#j.p. whiskers#jp whiskers#homer whiskers#toontown rewritten#toontown#ortensia whiskers
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so blackout hospital amirite
ive already gone on a HUGE spiel about the game on Instagram and even though I've never posted Mina here I'm just gonna copy n paste the rant under the cut. sliiight spoilers for the game but not really???
hiii besties since Blackout Hospital came out I wanted to draw my old oc again! Mina still won't wear her uniform because "I don't get paid to look formal, I get paid to mop up bodily fluids." She probably spent the whoooole entire blackout in the cafeteria and the kitchen, mainly because she found out Reginald was still around and refused to explore beyond that point. Unlike me, who's Reginald Tetra hyperfixation reawakens with a fury every time the man *breathes* on screen (hence the two images below, me and my friends spent a whole night discussing theories about what his deal is 😭) Mina is incredibly unnerved by his presence. 2
Anyway, @arcadekitten YOUR GAMES ARE LITERALLY THE BEST EVERRR, I never get bored of seeing your characters and I just wanted to thank you for giving us another amazing entry to...whatever the hell is going on in that universe!! It's really inspires me to work and develop my own characters more. I'm literally learning to code because of Cemetery Mary lmao. I'm looking forwards to whatever art/projects you decide to create next! :)
ok ill stop rambling now uhh go play blackout hospital this is a threat 🔫
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