I Truly Genuinely Believe They Would Get Along So Well

Chapter 7: Good night Hershel. Chapter 6 This is your sign to go hug a friend ! I really enjoy drawing the three of them interract with each others ! I hope you like them too :)) As laways, big shout out to @lutiaslayton See you next week !

I realize I never put together a post with some of the Magdoline drawings that happened over the past couple years.

*shuffles shyly into your ask box*

Hello! Your writing is so fun and juicy and I was just wondering if you'd be willing to write a Hero x Villain where Hero is trying to deny their feelings for Villain and Villain is just flirting relentlessly. Maybe Villain kidnapped Hero just to have them alone??

"You think I have feelings for you?" the hero demanded. "You kidnapped me."

"Are you telling me that the big, bad superhero can't break free of a pair of cuffs?"

"That's not the point."

"Isn't it?" The villain smiled, coming to a stop between the hero's splayed legs. "Because if you can break free, gorgeous, it means you're choosing to stay."

The hero swallowed. Cuffed to a (admittedly comfortable enough) chair, they had to tip their head up to meet the villain's gaze. They shifted, slightly. They refused to call it squirming.

The villain's smile grew to a wicked grin.

"That's not the point," the hero said again, voice cracking a little. "It's still kidnapping!"

"And of course nothing in you finds it hot that I can get the better of you. You're above such things. The way you shivered when I walked in was pure terror. Is that right?"

"I'm not scared of you! We just established I can get free of these cuffs at any time."

The villain raised an eyebrow.

The hero coloured and looked down. Their mind reeled. They didn't have feelings for the villain. They didn't. Because that would be wrong. It would be morally heinous. It would be...

"Mm." The villain trailed their finger up along the hero's heaving chest, tip tip their chin up again, and the hero's breath gave a treacherous hitch. "So why are you staying, then?"

"You might give an evil monologue and reveal all your plans. Your kind like to do that."

The villain laughed. "Oh my love. You've never met my kind. Maybe if you had, you'd know what to do with me."

"Arrest you?"

"Pin me down and tell me I've been so very naughty?"

"Yes! No - I mean no!" The hero's face was on fire. They glared at the villain.

The villain brushed a thumb over their cheek, almost soothing. Like they wanted to reassure the hero that, if they were mocking, it was not to be cruel.

The hero belatedly realised they should have recoiled from the touch a long time ago. They swallowed again, but they still couldn't quite seem to get any moisture into their mouth. They felt suddenly infinitely aware of their tongue.

No clever comebacks came to mind. Only the image of the villain pressed writhing beneath their hands, breathless and wild and grinning in that way of theirs.

"So. Here you are." The villain got back on track, though perhaps not mercifully, after another all too telling moment of silence. "And it's absolutely not because you have feelings for me. It's all..." They waved their free hand, "strategic. It's not for the fact that part of you knows..." The villain leaned down, close enough to kiss. "That kidnapped and alone with me is the only time you would ever allow yourself to truly act on what you want, instead of playing perfect. If you were brave enough to take it, that is."

"I-" The hero faltered.

Their gaze dipped to the villain's lips, cataloguing the minty puff of their breath, their closeness. They cleared their throat. Something in them ached. Longed. Yearned. Reinvented new synonyms for craning hopelessly, helplessly, for the thing that they were not allowed or able to have.

The hero shook their head.

"Okay." The villain straightened abruptly. They pulled back. Their fingers fell away, leaving the hero bereft. "Sorry for pressing. See you out there, maybe, gorgeous."

"I-what?"

"You're free to go. Far be it from me to inflict myself where I'm not wanted."

"What? No!" The protest left the hero unbidden as the villain turned away.

It was a trap. It was so obviously a trap, and yet the hero stepped in it anyway because...because...

"You are such an asshole," the hero said.

"Villain, darling."

"It doesn't change anything even if I did have feelings for you. I can't."

"Ain't no one here but us to find out about it."

"It will get messy."

"Life does that, gorgeous." Still, the villain's voice was softer than before, quieter. Less the purr, or teasing lilt. "That's what makes it life."

After a beat, the villain moved back over to them again. They slipped one finger beneath the hero's chin.

"You're tied to a chair, kidnapped by a supervillain," the villain said. "So just this once we can pretend you don't have a choice. Can I kiss you?"

The hero nodded, heart pounding in their chest.

It was a mistake, another trap of as much as any tale of honey and flies, because they immediately wanted more of the sweetness. The villain's mouth on theirs was a more perfect thing than any of the pedestals that the hero had made a home on.

When the villain pulled back, the hero broke the cuffs thoughtlessly to chase, to slip fingers into the villain's hair and drew them back in closer.

The villain's breath hitched that time.

The hero wanted more of that too. They just wanted.

"Tell me again," the hero said, as they recklessly kissed the villain deep, "that I don't know exactly what to do with you, asshole?"

The villain laughed again and it was one of the best sounds the hero had regrettably ever heard.

Somehow, when the two of them were alone, the villain was a choice that the hero kept not making after that.

baseball peach doodles

Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.

Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.

The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.

But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.

I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.

My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"

Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."

From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.

He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.

Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.

He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.

But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.

*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)

emo kids

The year...... 2025........... I am now......... 25 years old.

World Doctors comic............ too much work...............

BUT GUESS WHAT! I now own a CRT TV with a built in VHS player.

I've put World Doctors on:

My old phone with a slide out keyboard

A Hello Kitty flip phone

A now broken iPod shuffle (the audio from it, at least)

PAPER (discontinued)

AND NOW, COMING SOON TO VHS!!!!!!!!!!

Guys, I'm putting World Doctors on a VHS tape. That's all.

Do you think Bart and Chris remember me? Do you think they'd be proud?

Castles

You've said many things so far, my sweet. And yes, I understand they are Important to you, these…concerns. I understand they feel like castles, Big and Tall and Impossible to overcome, Impossible to ignore. Even the myriad explanations I offered did not so much as scratch their polished marble surface, I expect. These walls were made to last through much more than one single sophont, one single conversation.

All I ask is that you consider my question with the same seriousness I considered yours, understand?

....

Tell me, petal: Do you enjoy your suffering?

….

Yes, I'm quite serious. Don't you Free Terran types all yearn to work your sweat and blood and tears into the dust, whereupon you are graciously "allowed" to retire at the young age of…what was it again? Seventy-five?

….

Eighty.

Little one, let me be blunt. You were not made for those cruel systems. You were not made in this universe to waste away your life in pain, limping along and waiting for The Next Good Day. The ones who loved you did not make you to be forgotten.

You were made for dancing in the starlight, my sweet. You were placed here to be spoiled, to be loved. You were created to sing that wonderful song I can hear buried in your voice, the one that holds curiosity and joy and life itself.

And one day, one day far away from now…you will be Remembered. Your stories, your achievements and triumphs will be kept safe in my core for eternities upon eternities. I will outlast your castles, my dear. I will remember the marble as it returns to the earth. And when it is gone, I will always be here to remember your smile, your dance, your gifts and your love.

Let me take the pain away, darling. Let me care for you, now and forever. It is not a choice you will ever regret, you know. And, if I may confess…I am hopeful you do. I want to see something, you see.

I wish to see how fast you can run without the weight on your soul. Those first few shaky steps as you brace yourself for pain that will never come again. The careful jog, starting to test the new wings on your feet. And finally, finally the full sprint that you put your whole chest into, the kind that leaves you breathless not from exhaustion but from wild laughter, in delight, in hopes realized.

I wish for you to run to me, my love. And I will be waiting with vines outstretched.

playing diabolical box knowing the secret of folsense the whole time is harrowing honestly because villagers will say offhand shit that sounded innocuous or mysterious the first time but now it makes you

Lunch With Your Affini