ordeal of laura


LESS THAN A WEEK to support the Kickstarter for Nico’s Fortune!

Nico’s Fortune  is a brand new 40-page horror comic written by Ryan King aka @ryyyan-kiiing (The Games We Played, ToTully Aces) and Daryl Toh aka @tohdraws (The Games We Played, Outer God, The Misadventures of Tobias and Guy). 

There’s something strange going on in Beth and Laura’s new dream house. The recent newlyweds attempt to settle into a cozy, new lifestyle of modern suburbia, but disaster looms as they battle the behavior of their strange cat Nico and the even odder lifestyle of their annoying neighbors, the Nu Delta Xis. What horrifying ordeals await Beth and Laura behind the locked doors of their own home?

Taking inspiration from such troubling neighbor classics as Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window, the campy 80’s horror flick Fright Night, and the Seth Rogen/Zac Efron comedy Neighbors, Nico’s Fortune promises to deliver all new screams and laughs, with an adorable cat added for purrrfect measure.

>>>Preorder now on Kickstarter <<<

Double Down

for @laurahale-appreciation week, day 3: Hale Twins!!!

also on AO3

Laura and Derek were not identical twins by any stretch of the imagination. Technically, obviously, there was the whole separate eggs thing, but also just the fact that Laura was four inches shorter despite her sixteen extra minutes of life and had long hair and boobs and such. She and Derek were the kind of twins that never had to worry about getting mixed up.

But that only applied to their human forms. The full shift, that amazing feat of biological mysticism that ran almost exclusively in their family line, was another matter entirely. Once the fur was on, Laura and Derek became nearly indistinguishable wolves, the same height and bulk, the same grey fur so dark it was almost black, even the same patch of white above their left eye. The two of them had gotten up to plenty of mischief as cubs, determined to take full advantage of their twinness for once; they’d nearly driven the rest of the family to distraction with all their ridiculous hijinks!

Yes, Laura loved that she and her brother could switch places so convincingly. Until such times as this.

“You want me to what?

“Just go hang out with Stiles in my place for a little while,” Derek repeated. He was leaning against Laura’s bedpost, interrupting her study time, and his face was very close to pleading. “It’s not like it’s that much of a hardship, is it? You like Stiles!”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who likes Stiles,” Laura reminded him, giving him a flat look over the top of the open textbook in her hands. She expected her brother to roll his eyes, throw his hands up, argue or even deny it like he had done so many times in the past. This time though he just let himself tip over until he fell flat across her bed—and her notebook, and her legs—and let out a groan.

“I do,” he said miserably. “I really, really do. Which is why you have to do this for me.”

“I am missing a step in your thought process,” Laura said, seriously considering dropping the textbook on Derek’s face. It would probably break his nose, but that would heal in a few minutes so it might be worth the blood stains on her bedspread.

Derek groaned again. “I’m supposed to hang out with Stiles and his friends at the park today,” he told her. “But mom says I have to clean out the garage instead. She used her alpha eyes and everything! I can’t go, so you have to go for me.”

“Why don’t you just tell Stiles why you can’t make it, you dingbat?” Laura asked, dropping the book on Derek’s stomach instead. He oophed and flicked her the bird.

“It’s such a fake excuse!” he said.

“It’s not fake if it’s true!”

“But it sounds like it’s fake,” Derek argued. He rolled onto his side to face her, once again disrupting her study materials. “Laura, I really like Stiles. Like, really. I don’t want him thinking that I’m blowing him off or flaking out on him.”

Damn it, he had the sad eyes going on, and they didn’t even look like the fake ones they both pulled out when they needed a favor. These were real sad eyes. Probably because Derek was still a little tender from the messy breakup with Paige that had broken his heart so thoroughly. It had been well over a year since then and people still gossipped about it in the halls at school like total dicks. They were half the reason Derek had been so reluctant to start dating again, but then came Stiles and suddenly Derek was laughing and smiling at his text messages and being a total heart-eyes goober.

“What would I even do?” Laura asked, resigning herself to the absolute fact that her brother was going to get what he wanted. “I mean, were you planning on hanging out with him in full shift all day? Is he not gonna be suspicious that you never shift back?”

Derek sat up, sad eyes magically transformed into hopeful eyes as soon as he heard her resolve cracking.

“Stiles loves my full shift!” he said earnestly. “It’s not like he needs another person to carry on a conversation anyway. He’s more than capable of talking for hours on his own. That’s part of what makes us so perfect for each other. And besides—”

He broke off, biting his lip and shrugging in a way that was probably supposed to be innocent but actually set off every alarm bell in Laura’s mind.

“What?” she asked, wary.

“Well, Stiles has been trying to convince me to…play catch with him?” Derek said slowly, like that might make it better.

“Derek!” Laura cried, yanking a pillow out from behind her so she could hit him with it. “You want me to play fetch with your boyfriend?”

Derek didn’t even bother dodging the pillow attack, just shielding his head and weathering the onslaught because he knew he deserved it.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” he said. “At least not yet, and not ever if he convinces himself I don’t like him because I keep finding excuses not to hang out with him. And it won’t be fetch, okay? Probably frisbee! You like playing frisbee!”

“Ooh, you are going to owe me so much for this, baby brother,” Laura growled. “So much.

Keep reading

Read the new issues of Vader and The Wicked and The Divine in between struggling for two hours to install tablet drivers.

So first picture on the Intuos Pro - Laura. 

My OC's react to Overwatch's official character designs

no one asked for this but here you go. This took two hours and since I myself know nothing about the characters I had a load of fun!


Laura: “Oh, wow…she’s so…colorful! How does she get her hair to stay up like that?”

Samuel: “The lack of armor between her elbows and on her neck is troubling. I could slice her head clean off.”

Heather: “…My, but she is long-legged. Should I be concerned about the lack of weight distribution betwixt her calves and ankles? I believe that requires healing.”

Isabelle: “I like her style.”

Felix: “…Damn. Does she have to wear straps down there? Not that I’m complaining.”

Trent: “Is this woman wearing a cannon on her chest. And why do her trousers bear her name? …I am concerned on a number of levels.”


Laura: “Those big guns…um…are the claws and spikes on his wrists really necessary…?”

Samuel: “Ah…p-pardon me…I just…” *snorts* “The cape…”

Heather: “Oh goodness. It appears Death is awake and didn’t get his morning kiss.”

Isabelle: “Wow. His face must be angular as all get out. I bet he’s poked an eye out with his chin.”

Felix: “Heh…nice weapons. You compensatin’ for somethin’ under those ammo holsters?”

Trent: “…Oh, mercy. This poor gentleman. Getting up after falling must be quite the ordeal.”


Laura: “…Gracious…w-why are her arms and legs protected, but not the entirety of her waist? …Such a long waist, too…”

Samuel: “Again with the awkward armor distribution…one slice down her chest and she’s as good as dead. Though I have to wonder why her skin is tinted blue.”

Heather: “…My. You may want to protect that chest of yours, dear. Using your weapon for such means is a poor idea, because a gun can only point one way.”

Isabelle: “Hon, if you want people to stop staring, maybe put on a coat? Or maybe she just likes looking bitchy.”

Felix: “…She can make herself into my widow anytime.”

Trent: “I-I’m not looking!”


Laura: “…Oh, gracious me. Is that an ape? It’s an ape! Named Winston! WINSTON!”

Samuel: “…They claim that the intelligence of the ape family is vast. It is now so vast that I am concerned for humanity.”

Heather: “That poor thing looks so…mad. Of course, I would be as well if I had what looks to be ten pounds of armor burdened upon my whole body.”

Isabelle: “…It’s wearing glasses. And it’s name is Winston. Someone get this poor thing a glass of wine.”

Felix: “Fuck. I’d be mad too if my name was Winston. Holy shit.”

Trent: “Someone save him.”


Laura: “…What lovely lips she has. Er, how does she see?”

Samuel: “Now THAT. That is armor. Bless this woman. Also…I’m frightened.”

Heather: “Oh.”

Isabelle: “That’s a…missile launcher? I’m sorry. I have to go. Right no-”

Felix: “Under that…baffling armor. Wow. I bet she couldn’t dodge my missile…”

Trent: “…I like this woman. She has a working mind.”


Laura: “…Really, I don’t have much to say…um…he must be…big?”

Samuel: “…I feel that if this man got so much as a paper cut that he would be calling on God.”

Heather: “For some reason, I fear for this man’s self-esteem.”

Isabelle: “…Wow. He must have trouble entering buildings…”

Felix: “…Shit. Is this guy and Pharah related?”

Trent: “…God is a creator, not a copier.”


Laura: “She’s beautiful! But why are all of these guns so odd…?”

Samuel: “Step one: chop off the right leg. Step two: the left. Three: stab the throat. Victory.”

Heather: “…Curious. Can she bend matter? Is she perhaps casting a bodily illusion as well?”

Isabelle: “I like her style. You got it, you flaunt it.”

Felix: “…Shit. None of these women have armor. Which concerns me. But also, as a man, I-”

Trent: “If this woman does not kick in fights, then I am sorely disappointed by the waste of resources.”


Laura: “Oh! He has a claw…how nice. It must be easy to grab things! Does he braid his own beard or does someone else do it…? Like Pharah!”

Samuel: “He must have stories to tell. But again, I ask: WHY ARE VITAL LIMBS UNPROTECTED?!”

Heather: “I’d quite like to hug this man.”

Isabelle: “Aww! He looks so mad. Do you think his girlfriend left him?”

Felix: “…Hello, height complex.”

Trent: “…Mm. I think a smile would suit him best. It must be a rare sight.”


Laura: “Ah! How sweet! B-But why is someone so kind fighting? …It’s a robot? …Oh…”

Samuel: “Machine or no, fighting ones are only as good as their makers.”

Heather: “I was wondering when an actual machine would appear. I am…oddly…not impressed.”

Isabelle: “It’s a robot. Well, okay.”

Felix: *snorts*

Trent: “…Isn’t sending a machine into battle at bit…cowardly?”


Laura: “Ah…how handsome. Though perhaps he should do something about that stray hair.”

Samuel: “I…his che- …I…excuse me, I must go. Preferably to stab something.”

Heather: “A bowman? Hm. With a hair tie that long, he is asking to be shot should there be wind.”

Isabelle: “Ooh. Rock that ink, pal. Though red may color it if you don’t cover it.”

Felix: “…Let me guess. His brother died.”

Trent: “He must be fun at parties. Quite fun.”


Laura: “Ah! What beautiful wings! But she…reminds me of…”

Samuel: “At last, a medic! A flying medic! I was worried for this team.”

Heather: “…My, but we appear similar. At least I know now that I can look fine in orange…”

Isabelle: “I feel like she never hears a thank you. You keep goin’, girl.”

Felix: “Mercy. Indeed.”

Trent: “…I pray this woman stays safe.”


Laura: “…Ah. How creative! …But…how did they program beliefs?”

Samuel: “…May I pass on this?”

Heather: “Mm. Curious. How does this…robot…fight?”

Isabelle: “Aww. It looks so cute! Is he that one guy that gives all the pep talks?”

Felix: “…Okay.”

Trent: “A warrior monk. Well, there is also an armored ape. I wonder what else exists.”


Laura: “…Doesn’t this seem redundant? A robot…ninja?”

Samuel: “No one speak to me. I am enraged.”

Heather: “Hee. They gave him cloth for hair. How charming…”

Isabelle: “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Felix: “My sword matches my body in color. Fuck all of you.”

Trent: “I…my last statement. I must add ‘robotic swordsman’ to it.”


Laura: “G-Gracious…that looks like fun to pilot…”

Samuel: “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Heather: “…For something she must have spent a lifetime working on…it looks simple to destroy.”

Isabelle: “…Shoot. Even I could easily get rid of her.”

Felix: “Pink, eh? Heh. She must know how to have fun…go big or go home.”

Trent: “Hm. No offense to this woman, but…if she runs out of fuel, God save her.”


Laura: “…His hair is on fire! H-He looks…oh, my.”

Samuel: “Hm. He must have a death wish.”

Heather: “…Gracious. The day this man settles down is a day the earth will sit still.”

Isabelle: “Sorry.” *snorts* “I-I…he’s having fun…”

Felix: “Shit, I could use his leg as a chopstick. Jesus man, drink your milk…”

Trent: *smirking* “Excuse me…I…” *starts laughing* “I’m amazed he hasn’t died.”


Laura: “What a nice smile! I want to make him smile more!”

Samuel: “…The lack of proper armor is going to make me stab myself. Careful, don’t hold that hand out long- it will be chopped off.”

Heather: “…How charming. Do you suppose he does everything with a smile?”

Isabelle: “Darn. I like this guy. Let’s hope he can last…”

Felix: “…What’s with the excessive leg armor? Is he terrified of losing them and not his arms? His arms can just go fuck off? If he lost both legs he might lose his will to live.”

Trent: “…Those are the oddest hair decorations I have ever seen. How does he put them on? Remove them? They look like rubber bottle caps…”


Laura: “…Why does his belt say BAMF? What does that mean? Be Afraid of My…Firepower? Fist? Fedora? Friends? Fa-”

Samuel: “…I am done with this. This man’s arm should be a stump. This is not possible. I am so angry. I want to kill someone. I want to fight this man and kill him. Right no-”

Heather: “…Is his torso robotic? Then…is his…oh, my.”

Isabelle: “Lotsa robot limbs in this group. …Is his horse robotic? Because a robot horse would be badass.”

Felix: “…Is his gun compensating for something?”

Trent: “…If your society has such advancements as robotic limbs…guns are obsolete, friend.”


Laura: “…Ah, how adorable! I don’t even mind her shooting me!”

Samuel: “…Beware the nice ones.”

Heather: “She even has snowshoes. Though I cannot speak for their effectiveness in battle.”

Isabelle: “…Aww. Go kick ass, honey. Have fun!”

Felix: “…Heh. What a cutie. I wouldn’t mind making her feel warm…”

Trent: “For her sake, I hope she does not suffer from heat stroke.”


Laura: “O-Oh my goodness…a hug from him must be quite something.”

Samuel: “…I will say nothing at all. Please, go on.”

Heather: “…Roads are most likely not the only things he hogs.”

Isabelle: “Step one: bring home the bacon. Step two…share it.”

Felix: “I bet this guy has the most innocent fucking face under that mask.”

Trent: “…Good grief. I certainly don’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever punishment he gives.”

Soldier 76-

Laura: “How…normal looking. Do you suppose he enjoys a good chat?”

Samuel: “He looks pleasant, oddly. And…is his hair white? Ah, an older fellow! …He must be sturdy.”

Heather: “No comment.”

Isabelle: “Did he choose the name Soldier 76 to add intrigue? He kinda needs some.”

Felix: “He reminds me of my father…”

Trent: “A veteran…what a brave soul.”


Laura: “Oh, she’s so pretty! And strong! Look at her! How pretty!”

Samuel: “…Can I get drinks with this woman?”

Heather: “Oh my. I feel we may be fast friends.”

Isabelle: “Woo! Look at this girl. Hell yeah. I feel great just looking at her.”

Felix: “Oh, fuck yeah.”

Trent: “Well. I think this lady can handle herself.”


Fandom: Carmilla

A/N: I’m a wreck after episode 31. So let’s just pretend it didn’t end the way it did and that Carmilla succeeded in getting the necklace off of Laura. Written in like 10 minutes so please forgive my rushed-ness.

Words: 940


She didn’t even try to censor herself this time. Carmilla was long beyond that point by now, too far gone, already having hopelessly admitted to herself that she was irksomely smitten with the self-deprecating human girl in front of her.

So she didn’t stop herself from confessing it. 

“Of course I’m doing it for you.”

And she was. Everything was for Laura.


Keep reading