I wonder how many people assumed the betas were actually Derek’s kids?
Like, they don’t know him, he’s not ~Derek Hale~ he’s just a call-in regular who’s always polite on the phone, a servers fave, but still, there’s some assumptions to be made. Everyone does it, makes guesses about the person who goes with the voice on the phone. The experienced ones can identify a Karen by word one. And it’s fun, something to lighten the mood. So, he’s calling in a takeout order (the delivery guys love him, always tips over 20) and the server writing down the honestly staggering amount of food can hear noise in the background, laughter and yelling, and Derek stops mid-order, his voice taking on the tone of every parent dealing with an unruly kid.
“Hold on a second - Erica, I swear to God if you jump off there one more time, you will survive the fall, you will not survive me, understand? Yeah, that’s what I thought - okay, sorry, where was I?”
And this time he says he’ll come pick it up himself, and everyone is expecting a Mark Sloane-type dilf with at least two small kids, based on the background noise alone, and then he shows up, he’s just like….a college dude. He’s got three teenagers with him. He calls the blonde babe Erica. He tells them they better help carry the bags or they won’t get any of the lemon bars Stiles is making (what the hell is a Stiles?) and they listen. He leaves a thirty dollar tip.
Pokemon headcanon that once Absol are studied and people realize they prevent disasters instead of causing them, particularly dangerous workplaces get themselves a workplace Absol and it also decreases accidents.
Construction sites and fishing ships and factories will have one that pretty much just lazes about until it just gets up howling one day and knocks a dude down. They almost never figure out what would have happened but they’re always like “yes absol thank you absol I am so grateful to be on the floor right now. Can I offer you a treat in this trying time”
I’m a big Erica and Boyd shipper, so I created an AU where they are married because it’s what we deserve.This took me forever to draw, so please show it some love.I also created a little edit which I imagine is their fridge at home and I thought it was too cute not to post.
Side note- Thank you to everyone who engages with my work and follows me, I appreciate all of you.Its crazy to see how my I’ve improved compared to my earliest work on here.I hope I can keep creating work for you guys!
Andy and Quỳnh and Joe and Nicky were literally two gay couples travelling the world and saving lives for hundreds of years and I’m never not gonna feel insane about that
Errant curls/hairs that won’t stay down no matter what you do to them.
Unruly eyebrows
Sweats easily
Fidgets constantly/can never sit still
Blinks often
Grinds teeth
Gap in their teeth/Crooked teeth
Chapped lips
Dry skin
Skin is red/irritated
Acne on cheeks, forehead, chin
Dark under eye circles
Eyebrow scar
Uneven dimples
Hair birthmark
Long toes and/or short fingers
Patchy skin
Veiny hands/arms
Chin hairs
Large teeth/small teeth
Broken/crooked nose
Yellow teeth
Broken/taped glasses
Birthmarks (on their face or somewhere else where it’s noticed)
In addition to your many teeth suggestions allow a character to have false teeth when they’re young or have a missing tooth
We’re used to seeing charcters with hole limbs missing but it’s rare to see one with just one piece missing like a finger or a toe unless they’re from a mafia/gang story.
Give us some characters that are actual midgets and not 5'0. Give us a 40 year old man who is only 3'9 please.
Abnormally tall/muscular woman. I wanna see an 8'0 woman or an average sized woman with the BIGGEST muscles out there. I’m begging you
Give your supernatural/paranormal characters three sets of teeth
Give those characters feelings
Give those characters more then what they are and who they fall for. Give me a vampire trying to find a way to go into the sun without catching on fire. Give me a monster who is also a scientist who WASNT the one that made him a monster.
Give your character culture, whether it’s made up or something real
Give your character an unlikely talent
But mostly just give your character character development. It’s all I really want. Please let them grow and have a purpose.
OH AND PLEASE MESSAGE ME ABOUT YOUR OCS I WANT YOU TO TELL ME EVERYTHING
Honestly, he had been. That heartbreak and that betrayal, the days and days stewing in his fury, lashing out as the Kraken, all of it boiled his blood and set him up good and proper to cut that cruel, selfish bastard to ribbons.
All right, days and days might be a bit of an exaggeration. It’s probably been a week since Izzy shook some sense into him. Fortnight, tops. But still. Ed had been ready. He’d hated Stede. He had.
So when the man himself appears in Ivan’s scope, waving his oar overhead like a fool and towing the rest of his miserable crew in what seems to be a makeshift raft, Ed can’t blame Izzy, really, for hissing I’ve got the cannons ready, Captain Blackbeard. Just give me the word.
Ed seizes the scope.
He sees Stede Bonnet.
He lowers the scope.
His heart twists painfully in the cage of his chest and then keeps twisting, something hot and bright and sick surging through his veins like sunlight.
“What a fucking moron,” Izzy seethes. “As if he could hurt you like that and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. We’re actual fucking pirates, you twat,” he calls, as if Stede might hear him across the water. “You’ll see what you get when you fuck with us.” He snarls, turns to Ed. “Shall I, boss?”
Ed stares at the little dot on the water, coming steadily toward him. Stede’s rowing. Didn’t expect that. Crew is probably—ah. Crew is probably a bit weak in the arm, weak in the everything, after what Ed did to them.
“Boss?” Izzy asks again. Ed growls. He shoves the scope at him, scrubs his hands over his face, smudging the black paint there.
“Just—wait.” Ed growls, and stomps off to the captain’s quarters.
“Wait…forBonnet?” Izzy calls after him, shrill with incredulity. “Edward, you can’t possibly—”
Ed doesn’t wait to hear what Izzy thinks he can and cannot do.
He slams the door behind him and stares at the hollow shell he made of Stede’s quarters. Only fair, given, he thinks furiously, what Stede made of him.
He strides over to the bed, yanks the curtains shut, and climbs in. There he is through the window, unmistakable, coming closer. Just as Ed absolutely one thousand percent has not been dreaming about every night.
The fuck does he want? To finish Ed off? Cut out his heart, well, fuck that, he’s already done that. Piece of shit, fucking coward—only—
Only that’s not what it is, Ed knows. He’s been fucking thinking about it since that morning on the dock. He knows what it is. Ed wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough for Stede, he’d been stupid, a fucking moron, to think he was, and Stede finally wised up about it. Too weak and too broken at once for someone who shone like that, so he’d cracked Ed open and scooped out the softest bits of him with a fucking snail fork and left behind the pieces.
But…
Well.
Why’s he back, then?
Ed stares at the little boat for a long, long while. Izzy’s going to knock any minute, Ed knows he is.
He wipes away the tears he hardly noticed spilling, smudging his hands black.
He knows what he has to do.
*
“Captain,” Izzy says with barely controlled glee. “They’re close now. Could still do cannons, yeah, but are you thinking more hand to hand?” He nods. “I get it. More personal.”
“Yeah, mate.” Ed says. “Sure.” They’re close enough now that he can see Stede’s in a plain white shirt. None of his fancy clothes, his curls wild in the wind. Ed still can’t see his expression, but he can tell he doesn’t look like the man Ed had nursed back to health from a Spanish stab wound anymore, not exactly. There had always been a sort of…restlessness about him. Anxious, fluttering energy, bird-like.
This Stede Bonnet stands steady. Like he knows where he’s going, really knows it, for the very first time.
Ed’s never felt like this before. Or—no, shit. That’s not true. He has, twice, very recently.
When he thought Stede might die.
And when he realized Stede wasn’t coming back for him.
He’s…terrified.
“Fuck off, all of you,” he growls at the rest of the crew. “Belowdeck, go on.” Izzy jerks a nod, grotesquely eager, and barks at them to obey. Jim, whose knuckles had been clenched white on the railing, looks like they’d rather fight Ed to the death than lose sight of Oluwande again, but Frenchie manages to drag them off.
The rest of the crew Stede’s towing, er. They’re alive! All of them, looks like, which is probably good. They do look, well. A bit worse for the wear.
And that’s the fucking thing, isn’t it? Stede didn’t want him because he thought Ed was a monster, and Ed had gone and proven him right in the worst possible way. Stede’s bloody rowing with a boatful of crew who, by rights, should want to take Ed apart with a filleting knife.
Ed should arm himself.
Ed should blow them all out of the water.
Ed should set course for the furthest possible bearing and leave Stede behind in his wake, for good.
Ed should.
Ed absolutely, definitely, for-fucking-sure should.
Ed lowers the ladder.
And then there he is, without a weapon on him. Sea-salt in his hair and his brow creased in concern. Ed stares at him, black on his face like ink, his hands tight on his knife and his gun.
You’ll see what you get, Izzy’s voice echoes in his head, when you fuck with us.
