#(kidding ty marbles)

[replicasoul]

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with? cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)? mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does? aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

oh god i completely forgot i was doing this Hi sorry marxz [papyrus] Actress - Hana Vu really catchy song shown to me by a friend (hi luna :) ), and i need to look into more of this artist's stuff. associate it a lot as an anthem for Blink [cactus] uhhhhh ive been trying to practice drawing??? a bit more. idk if that counts. mostly little doodles and things still bc Arms, and its hard trying to learn to draw with a mouse (pens/styluses hurt my wrist worse somehow), but its rly nice when i Can do a bit of art. idk, Trying. [mahonia] inspires me Most??? oh thats way too hard. also not sure if its like... One Of These Things or One Of All Three. uh. as far as Places go? im guessing its like "you like to go to this place and be inspired by being there :)" but im poor and disabled and i barely go outside. So, i guess uh. i really like surreal spaces in art/media? doesnt need to be Liminal stuff (tho those are fun too), but just anything thats Weird or interesting to look at, especially if theres interesting geometric patterns to them. for a Thing, ? ? ? ? maybe certain game series and the mechanics for them. i really like to draw from survival horror stuff; the way tight mechanics keep you Planning is something i like to mess with in my own projects a lot; its really engaging trying to impart certain feelings on ppl participating just in how the rules/etc. work for Activity, idk. i watch/look at/play a lot of different media and will pull ideas just when something Hits Me and i go "oh i bet i could do my own take on that". favs are usually like, the occasional older horror/scifi movie/game that has a REALLY interesting concept but bungles the execution. so i just kind of go "oh cool im gonna do smth similar but Weirder, and i think i know how to make it work better". really fun experimenting with stuff like that [aloe vera] i mean a lot of the usual stuff that requires money. like yknow. would be cool to Travel some, ive never even been out of the country. same with having a house and all that. if we're talking stuff thats not quite that focused on quality of life/having a decent amount of money, thennnn i really wanna pick up some kind of physical hobby. i really enjoy swimming and tennis but physical issues + body dysphoria mean i rarely ever do them. itd be nice to be able to just like, go to a court with a friend every other week and play some tennis for fun. idk i miss just Playing Outside basically.

[starkeysprincess]

i dont know if youre doing request rn but if you are could you write rafe x reader where he gets all jealous and takes it out on her?

pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader warning(s): unprotected sex, p in v, rough sex, creampie & i think that's abt it tbh ??? word count: 1,228 (i got carried away sorry) a/n: ty anon for the request, i hope you enjoy it, angel

Rafe huffed in annoyance after getting off a phone call with you and he had wanted to take you out on a date because it’s been a few weeks since you last went on one. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down due to having to be present and participate in the fundraiser your sorority is throwing to raise money. He wasn’t sure what your sorority was doing for the fundraiser because you’ve been too busy trying to get things together for the event.

The door to his room swung open as Topper and Kelce barged in, asking if he had any plans for the day. “No, ‘s not like I have anything else to do” Rafe shrugged as he followed his two friends into Topper's car, figuring he might as well hang with the boys.

Rafe zoned out throughout the car ride until he heard Kelce and Topper whistling, “Shit, the sorority girls are doing a car wash” Topper chuckled, “Guess, it wouldn’t hurt to support them, right?”.

“You just wanna see girls in bikinis” Kelce snorted, “And you wouldn’t?” Topper scoffed, almost in disbelief. “Plus, we’re supporting Rafe’s girl’s sorority” Topper added, making Rafe furrow his eyebrows in confusion, “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Top?”.

“It’s your girl’s sorority, look” Topper nodded, making Rafe turn his head to see a few girls holding signs that had ‘Alpha Delta Pi: Car Wash’ clearly written on them.

He looked around as he sat in Topper’s car, his eyes scanning all around until they finally landed on your frame, almost bulging out of his skull from taking in the sight of you in a red bikini, his favorite bikini that you own.

Your back is facing him and he can’t help but smirk as his eyes roamed your body but his smirk quickly falls as he sees Brad, a frat boy from a competing fraternity, whom he can’t stand, walking up to you. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me” Rafe snorted, glaring as Brad approached you.

His eyes stayed glued to Brad, watching the two of you interact. The conversation between the two of you seemed innocent and Rafe has never been concerned about you flirting with other guys, you never gave him a reason to be because everyone knew you only had eyes for him.

At this point, he completely zoned out Topper and Kelce, rolling his eyes as he notices the way Brad was checking you out. The more he watched, the more irritated he got, his jaw clenching harder every second to the point it felt like his teeth would shatter. As soon as Rafe noticed you laughing at something Brad said and Brad touching your waist, he completely lost it and practically flung the car door open before slamming it shut as he made his way over.

You yelped in surprise as you felt someone grabbing your wrist, pulling you towards your sorority house. Rafe practically shoved you into the nearest bathroom on the first floor, locking the door and that's when you realize it was your boyfriend, "Rafe? What are you doing here?".

Instead of getting a response, Rafe pushes you against the bathroom sink, your lower back digging into the cool marble as his lips are on yours in a hungry kiss within an instant. He trails wet, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw to the column of your neck, sucking and biting at the skin, making sure to leave bruises as his hands move up your waist, towards your tits.

You gasp as he roughly squeezes them before tugging at the cups of your bikini down. He kisses his way down to your tits, making sure to leave marks, "These are mine" he groans.

He pulls away, smirking to himself as he takes in the sight of the bruises forming on your neck and tits. You don't even have to ask Rafe what's gotten into him just from the look in his eyes, one that you're too familiar with.

His fingers dip into your bikini bottoms and he can feel how wet you are for him as his fingers spread your folds, his thumb pressing against your aching clit, "Gonna fuck you so good, show him that you're mine". Before you can question who he was talking about, he spins you around, his large hand splayed against the small of your back, roughly pushing you down until you're bent over the bathroom counter.

He doesn't bother wasting time as he makes work of pulling your bikini to the side and quickly tugging his shorts and boxers down, his hard cock springing out. He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting into it before wrapping his hand around his shaft, giving himself a few tugs. His hand firmly pushes down on your back even further, the edge of the counter digging into your skin and he uses his knee to nudge your legs open wider.

“There she is” Rafe groans, taking in the sight of your glistening pussy, “Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve seen”. A small yelp escapes your lips at the feeling of Rafe’s hand slapping against your pussy, "And it's all mine". 

"Rafe" you whined, which was quickly replaced with a moan as he pushed into you in one thrust. He didn’t even give you time to adjust, jealously clouding his mind as he started pounding into you, the sounds of skin smacking against skin, echoing off the walls. “Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good” Rafe groans, his hand on your back, keeping you in place as he delivers harsh thrusts, making your body jolt forward against the marble counter. 

“I’m the only one who gets to see this view, the only cock you’ll ever need is mine and mine only” he grits his teeth, glancing down to watch his cock sliding in and out of you. “Y-yes” you stuttered, his thrusts becoming harder with each thrust. His hands move to grip your hips tightly, pulling you back against his cock, his hips snapping against your ass. 

Your hands gripped the counter to the point that your knuckles turned white, crying out each time his cock pushed in and out of you. Your legs started to tremble slightly and you could feel yourself getting close, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe and encourages him to go faster.

“Oh god, Rafe!” you screamed, your orgasm hitting you hard, your pussy pulsing around his cock. “That’s it, just like that” Rafe moans, his orgasm teetering on the edge, “Who’s pussy is this?”.

“Yours!” you cry out, making him chuckle, “That’s right. It’s my pussy. You’re mine. Your pussy is only meant for my cock and cum. I’m the only one who’s allowed to stuff you full of cum, understand?” he pants, his movements start to become sloppy as he’s close, “Yes, only you” you whimpered. “Oh fuck” Rafe grunts, his eyes fluttering shut as he fills you with his cum, leaving the two of you panting. 

He pulls out of you, watching as his cum drips out of you before he uses his fingers to push it back into your aching cunt. He fixes the bottom of your bikini, pulling you back up and pressing his lips against yours, “You’re mine and if the hickeys all over you don’t make Brad stay away, I won’t hesitate to fuck you in front of him”.

taglist: @redhead1180 / @princesssuki21 / @eternalbuckley @ihe4rttwd @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @rafescurtainbangz @xxbimbobunnyxx

[love44lew]

just like him . max verstappen

彡driver max verstappen

彡genre drunk!max verstappen x gn!reader, angst to fluff

彡summary max comes home drunk after a long night of partying and celebrating another wdc

၊၊||၊ this story has been haunting me for weeks now and im always busy with school or just dont have motivation to write but im glad to finally get the last of it on this sunday evening. enjoy and ty for reading!! ၊၊||၊

彡warnings alcohol, mentions of child abuse

———————————🦈———————————

max stumbles into the door after too damn long trying to get that stupid lock. why was the damn door locked anyway? he roughly plops down on the floor, kicking his shoes off and tossing them to the side without any second thought about them. he’s woozy and his head feels like its full of water and he can barely stand up straight—it was a long night of drinking and celebrating securing the drivers championship.

you would’ve went, but you weren’t feeling too well and even though max had insisted to stay home with you, you refused to let him miss out on celebrating such an achievement; hesitantly he went.

after a long 3 hours of drinking, dancing, partying him and his father had a long talk. a deep one, about his childhood. once again he’d taken credit for max’s achievements, once again telling max he should be grateful for the years of ‘tough parenting’. still the same stupid ass excuse he had to brag about how beating your kids made them world champions, what a way to ruin a night.

max stumbled into the kitchen, the house being left dimly lit since you’d expected him to come home late.

his head—the pounding became unbearable. ever since that talk with him the effects of the alcohol we’re hitting him harder then they should’ve for the amount he drank. he wasn’t drugged, was he? maybe his fathers words is what drugged him—but instead of sending him into a high, they sent him into a deep dysphoria.

he bent over, resting his temple on the cold marble of the island—the sensation easing his dizziness.

water, he needs water. but he couldn’t move from the position he was now.

“max..?” you called from up the stairs.

he just groaned in response

you smiled to yourself as you scurried down the stairs, knowing how he gets when he’s drunk. you were feeling much better than you were before, after throwing up and taking a nap, of course. “maxie,” the nickname rolled sweetly off your tongue, your tone much more comforting and soft. you turned the corner, spotting his tall figure hunched over the countertop his leg bouncing uncontrollably.

“hey, lets get you upstairs, hm?” you rubbed circles on his back as you picked up his arm and swung it over your shoulders. he’s heavy to say the least, so it wasn’t easy getting him up.

“y/n” max mumbled, stopping you at the base of the steps and using your shoulders to help him sit on them.

“yes max”

in your head, you celebrated being able to rest your shoulders for a couple minutes before helping him upstairs

“can you just be honest with me for one second here” his voice was hoarse and low, he could barely make eye contact with you. you can already understand this was a bad trip.

“always, love” your brows furrowed, his tone rising concern within you. there was a pause before he cleared his throat and his ocean blue orbs, that now appeared an almost dark grey in this lighting.

“do you think i’ll turn out like him” he almost whispered, just enough so you can hear him semi-clearly. the words stabbed you in the chest, where could he be getting these thoughts from. and whose ‘him’?

“him..?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side “max what are you talking about?”

“my dad” his eyes finally locked with yours “do you think im gonna turn out like him? what if the day comes where i would try to hurt you, if its by words or trying to put my hands on you? i never want to do that, i dont want that—thats not love. what we have, i feel this is love, but what if it wont be anymore, because of me?..” his eyes became sad, desperate and ashamed with himself, disappointed in himself for something he’s never done but the thought that he could possibly even try to hurt you makes him want to just curl up in a ball and cry.

“max-“ you reached a comforting hand out to him, just for him to reject it.

“no— i dont want to hurt you. you should go and find another guy who wouldn’t ever do that to you. im just like my fuckin dad, i even see his face in the mirror just to remind me of the doom im destined to” he hunches over, buring his face in his hands.

at this point you didnt even know what to say. you obviously are aware of the complex relationship max has with his father but he never never voiced these thoughts to you before, especially when hes drunk. hes all silly and quiet and sleepy usually, something must’ve happened to make him like this. everyone has their fears of inheriting their parents bad characteristics, max has told you about stuff he tries to do differently than him, but you never imagined it being this bad.

max is such a kind soul, he couldn’t even kill a spider. he has no reason to rage if he’s already taking all his frustrations out on track. outside the car he’s a calm dude, you’ve never heard him yell or be nasty to his engineers when he wasn’t on track. of course he has his occasional attitude towards the authority but never further than that. every time he acted out, hes worked hard to fix whatever caused him to do so.

the best thing you could do is just wait for him to finish talking so you could voice your thoughts, which you did so. you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder until he calmed town and flushed out all the words he had pent up in his brain. the two of you sat as his sobs filled the silence between you. saying something right away didnt feel like the right move anyway.

“you dont have to be him. youre not gonna be him because youre already better than him. max, youre still in your 20s and look all that you’ve accomplished—stuff he couldn’t dream to do in his entire life. you dont have a reason to end up like him because youre not a fuckin failure.” it might have been a little too much to talk so harshly about his dad, because its his dad. but whatever he did or said to him before he arrived home has caused the love of your life hysterical and paranoid for the future, so right now, he didn’t deserve the babying he receives from everyone around him and max. his sobs had calmed down at this point, the pause was enough for you to continue.

“and about me— i dont want anyone else. of course we’ll have our disagreements, we’ll piss each other off eventually. we’ll exchange words we dont mean and then we’ll immediately regret it after, thats just how things are. but id rather do that with you than another person because i’ll only ever want you. we’re in this together baby—and as long as i have you, theres always something to fight for because you’re worth fighting for. i made that decision the day i fell in love with you, and i never looked back since.” your heart, chest, and throat burned with every word that left your mouth. like confessing your love wasn’t hard enough the first time, here you are pouring it all out again. you keep your heart so sacred, all the world can fight for it and you’d still be stuck on that person you gave it all to. that person being max.

“i can only tell you how i feel, i cant convince you to think otherwise. but remember, i gave YOU my everything because thats the only thing i have to offer. i chose you because i see something in you that nobody else saw before, or sometimes dont even see now—“ not even your own father

“and now its my job to help you see those things within yourself.” your soft hands cupped his face so the two of you could fix on one another once again.

“just think about that”

his saddened eyes widened, like you had planted something in his mind. he melted into your touch, his eyes closing and his cheeks growing a deeper rose than before.

“i love you so much, i dont deserve you” he kissed your hands while mumbling his love for you.

“i love you too, but i disagree” you leaned in closer and kissed the bridge of his nose. he just sighed softly, he didnt feel like staring another debate on who loves who more. maybe in the morning.

max wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer and resting his head on your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. the two of you sat in silence, enveloping in one anothers warmth. his home was right here, with you.

“im thirsty” max mumbles, breaking the silence between you two. you chuckled silently. “okay baby” you helped him stand up and up the stairs, leading him to your room. max threw himself onto the bed. you turned around to fetch some water but a tired hand tugged your wrist.

“dont go” he nuzzled into your palm, his lips brushing over your fingers. “im not going anywhere honey, im just getting water for you” max whined in protest, his face was flushed into your hand like it was his only source of warmth— tingles fluttered your heart at the sight.

“you need water, do you want to be hungover tomorrow?” you leaned on your hip and narrowed your eyes curiously.

“no i need you, now come here im cold” he pouts, tugging your hand harder causing you to fall onto the bed with a cushioned thud. before you could even react, a needy, pouty max had already latched his body onto yours tightly, nuzzling into your shoulder and allowing the scent of his lover consume his senses.

you sighed softly, the messiness of his hair and the way his arms hug your body made you not want to move. your body relaxed in his arms as max’s soft snores muffled into the cloth of your (his) sweater. you raked your fingers through his soft blonde locks until you too eventually fell into your own sleep. the two of you tangled in each other, sleeping peacefully knowing that you both will always have a shoulder to lean on.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hello! I am back again. I got a operator/slenderman plushy from Marble Hornets! The one that glows in the dark. It got me thinking, how would some of the creeps (slendy himself too) would react to seeing reader with a plush of them? More like a comfort thing that they bring around and such.

Here’s some boba and drinks drop off too, stay hydrated! ☕️🍵🥤🥛🧃🧋🚰

-🪱 anon

Summary: Marble Hornets reactions to seeing reader with a plushie of them

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/n: omg ty i love drinks my poor little mini fridge is overflowing with tea and soda! Also, happy 15th anniversary to Marble Hornets!!

Credits: Masky/Tim- Marble Hornets, Hoodie/Brian- Marble Hornets, Slenderman- Creepypasta, Divider- bunnysrph, lavendergalactic, Pictures- Pinterest

Masky

When he sees you with a plush of him, his first thought is "Where did you get that???"

Then he remembers the large amount of people who know how to sew plushies in the manor

And the fact that he's kind of popular in the underworld

He's still never seen a plushie of him before, and the fact that you went out of your way to get one makes him giggle

He calls it his "mini me"

He loves seeing you walk around with it, he thinks its so cute

Every now and then, he'll just take it and look at it

For example, let's say you're sitting on a couch

He'll find you and come lay on your lap, asking if he can see his "mini me"

When you give it to him, he'll just look at the details, seeing what they got wrong and what they got right

And when you ask if he likes it, he will grunt and go "yeah, 's cute"

Sometimes he finds it annoying though

Not super annoying just a little bit

Like when you're going to sleep together, he will hop into bed with you, only to see you already cuddling with the plushie

He will sigh and gently take it from you, place it somewhere behind him on the bed, and promptly cuddle up to you

"you're being so stubborn. The real thing's right here, y'know" he grumbles with a kiss to your ear

Hoodie

He thinks it's super cute!

Immediately he makes the correlation between the plush and Coraline

He'll cheekily ask if this is your way of spying on him

The first time he sees it, he holds it up in front of him like that one scene in "The Lion King"

He gives a big grin at it, so big you can see his gums sticking out

I think he likes it more than you do

He treats it like it's your shared child lol

Whenever you kiss, he will cover the plush's eyes

Whenever you go to bed, he will prop the plush up in between the two of you on a pillow and gently cover it with a blanket

You just giggle at his antics

Another thing you like to do- just to tease him a bit- is kiss the plush on its forehead, cheeks, etc around him

He will see it and raise a brow, as if to ask "What are you doing?"

And then you will lean over and kiss him in the same places

God forbid something ever happens with you two, because then your child will be in a split house hold

Because Brian will not just abandon his child like that

His child that you bought

Bought for yourself

It's his kid too guys

Slenderman

He doesn't really care about it

When you first show him, he simply goes "Oh, what a strange little creature"

When you tell him it's supposed to be him he tilts his head and asks to see it

He holds it like a baby and pokes its face before going "Ah, I see"

He hands it back and goes about his day

Every now and then you try to use it to get something out of him

"Love, I was thinking we could go out tonight?" You ask him as you approach his desk

He doesn't even turn his face in your direction, only continues writing as he says "I'm sorry dearest, I have too much work tonight"

You pout and clutch the plush in your hands "You always have work." You grumble "I bet plush Slendy doesn't have work" You say, looking at the toy in your arms

He still doesn't react so you amp up your antics a little " Would you like to go out tonight?" you ask the toy

In your best British accent and the deepest voice you can muster, you speak for the doll "Oh yes, darling. That would be wonderful, because I just love you soooo much"

He scoffs "You're being ridiculous"

You simply turn on your heel so you aren't facing him anymore "Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of me and my man going out"

He lets out a dry chuckle and a sigh before finally giving in "Let me lock up the house, then"

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

things that remind me of the nerdy prudes

(because like two people reblogged this one i did forever ago for the losers and i forgot how fun these are)

grace:

getting veggie tales songs stuck in your head as an adult, knee socks, eating all your broccoli, sparkly butterfly clips, watching sunlight glint off a lake through the treeline, guinea pigs, friendship bracelets off a water bottle, being secretly glad when someone you don’t like turns out to be a bad person, a bunch of cellophane candy wrappers crinkling at the bottom of your purse, being a little too into archery at summer camp, pastel bible highlighters, banana pancakes, tying way too many ribbons around the advent wreath, leggings under dresses, daydreaming about how you’d escape if you ever got kidnapped, strawberry ice cream, roller skating with almost too much protective gear on, cloud gazing, obvious family secrets that everyone refuses to tell you, feeling weirdly guilty for ordering your steak rare, bringing too many swaps to girl scout camp so you can trade with everyone, asking a new friend for their email address, long denim skirts

steph:

really dry liquid lipstick you bought in your freshman year of high school but refuse to throw out, 24 hour diners, typing in all lowercase but never actually changing the setting in your phone, listening to music you hate but gaslighting yourself until you enjoy it, really dark purple nail polish that looks black, collecting crystals even though you don’t really believe in them, saying your team bella (but secretly being team jacob), getting mad your vape was confiscated at your high school graduation, one million rings, coffee ice cream, tinfoil in a microwave, exclusively wearing sports bras, shoplifting, pink monster, thinking cigarettes are really hot, never wearing a jacket even if your cold, penny boarding, drinking four loko, regretting four loko, refusing to put your hair up even when you really should, kuromi, half fallen down led lights, playing your mom’s old guitar, sour skittles

pete:

planetariums, being overly competitive at board games, ginger ale, using a chapstick until it runs out, really liking marshmallows, really liking hot chocolate, hating marshmallows in your hot chocolate, buying a bunch of cool notebooks and never using them, forever dm, pretending you didn’t find asdf movies as funny as you actually did, m&ms, freezing cold hands, hand-me-down sweaters, only ordering chicken fingers and french fries, being intrinsically trusted by cats, carrying a clarinet to school every day, skipping episodes of next gen if they don’t feature data, praying on the first day of school that your teachers didn’t have your older sibling, transition glasses lenses (that you absolutely regret), dry krave cereal, secretly finding most museums really boring, grow-your-own-geode science kits, wing tip tap shoes, messenger bags, only doing extracurriculars that look good on college applications

ruth:

your comfort gay newsies fanfiction from middle school, being jealous of your younger sibling, those phone cases with glitter and charms floating in water, team edward and team jacob, wishing you hadn’t quit dance, buying fun jewelry and never wearing it, being devastated your hair is too dark to dip dye in kool aid, sticky lip gloss, painting every nail a different color, self sabotage, crushed velvet scrunchies, the grease soundtrack, wanting to be a rockette when you grew up, never learning how to do make up, begging to do figure skating as a kid, begging to do beauty pageants as a kid, begging to do cheerleading as a kid, turquoise braces bands, sinclair gas stations, showing up to an audition that you didn’t realize had a dance call, dunkin’ donuts munchkins, squirrel girl comic books, one half of a best friend necklace you wore longer than you should have

richie:

trying to get the marble out of a ramune bottle, wearing big headphones 24/7 (even if they aren’t playing anything), staining your best friend’s bathtub blue with hair dye, sour patch kids, enamel pins, discord calls across like three different time zones, the charlie bone book series, getting in trouble for drawing in class, being the friend with a car but also being a terrible driver, a pokémon card binder, that one kid who was really, really good at cup stacking, wearing shorts in the middle of winter, thirty-nine minute long voice memos, being exceptional at claw machines, vocaloid songs, your pet parakeet hanging out on top of your head, that one vaguely traumatizing round of the pocky game from seventh grade, regularly broken duolingo streaks, getting in trouble for bringing a real katana to your freshman year halloween dance

[francixoxoxo]

୨ৎ Silver Soul 𓆝 𓆟

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 𝐗 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄, 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

Ever since you came into Billy’s life, he began seeing in color.

You made his dreary, murky future feel a bit more appealing. Brighter. His work didn’t seem so gritty when he had your face painted in the walls of his mind. Hell, he whistled while he worked.

You were engraved into his heart like marble, written into the pages of his story. There wasn’t a way around it, you had him under your spell. His mind was filled with memories of your head against his chest, your lilted voice telling him all about yourself, your sisters, your life beyond him, and asking about his own world. The smell of your dark tresses, like sea salt and amber. The smooth warmth of your skin under his calloused palms, the wistful look in your eyes as you gazed up at the sky.

These memories were a comfort while he was away at sea. When he closed his eyes for a brief respite against the bustle of the crew, or the brutal sun beating down on his back as he tied the lines until ropes were burnt into his splintered skin, your face was behind his lids. Hanging over him like a rosary.

Billy found comfort in the image of those rosy cheeks and heart-melting smiles as he sat up in the crows nest. It was a particularly scalding day, he sighed wearily as he pushed his damp hair back, putting his hat back onto the smoothed locks. He held a barometer in his hands, Jesse was a particular stickler about keeping an eye on the air pressure.

Well. Atleast he wasn’t busting his ass on the deck, he thought as his gaze dropped to a few of his crew mates tying lines, mopping the wood and, what truly made Billy grin, Ollinger’s punishment of re-nailing the uneven screws in the floorboards. Served that bastard right.

“Feel sorry f’ya mama, Kid.” Bob had snorted, shaking his head as he leaned over the deck on his elbows. He was smoking from a pipe, the putrid smell curling Billy’s lip. He barely remembers what biting remark he even spat at the older man. Not like it made a difference.

“All that trouble f’ya t’just end up here?” Ollinger whistled, shaking his head. Billy’s nostrils flared. White hot anger was clawing at his core, toiling like a storm under his skin. “I bet that poor mick is rollin’ in ‘er grave.”

Billy drags a hand over his eyes and down his face, sighing heavily. The worst part was that Ollinger was probably right. His mother probably wouldn’t be happy with the path her son set out on. Well, her son wasn’t too pleased with himself either, so nobody’s happy.

He dreams of running off with you. He’s not even sure how it’d work. Maybe he’d build a special house for the two of you, half in the water and half above the ground. Billy would find a way. His future was brighter because you had come into his life, because there wasn’t a possible future for him without you in it. He’d live out of a dingy if it meant he could hold you close at night, live beside you, no matter what he had to do. If he could, he’d cut himself gills to live in your world.

From what you’ve told him, it’s a hell of a lot better than Billy’s world of gypsies, tramps and thieves. Of pirates and pillagers, rotten crooks and wry thieves.

Billy’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t notice the commotion on the deck below. It’s not until Dick calls up to him, climbing up the rope ladder halfway to get his attention, “Billy! Billy, come on down! You gotta see!”

“See what?” Billy whirled around, his forehead creasing as he peers down at his crewmate. But he’s already focusing on climbing down. He doesn’t even think to look out from the crows nest to see what’s going on down there before he’s coming down the ladder.

About halfway down he throws his head over his shoulder, the crew is crowded around the object of their attention, nearly blocking it from his view. But Billy’s got the altitude to see, and he nearly loses his grip on the ladder. His sapphire eyes are buggy and wild, his chest heaving in a raw kind of fear.

Writhing in a net, crying like a baby, a woman with dark hair, struggling ‘gainst the ropes as they scathe her bare skin. Her hips melt into iridescent scales. A mermaid.

A mermaid, caught in a net.

A mermaid, surrounded by pirates.

A mermaid, laughed and poked at as she cries.

Billy practically falls down the ladder more than he climbs down. He’s shoving aside his crew, gaping at the mermaid. He lets out a breath upon seeing that no, it’s not you, but it’s still a mermaid. Still somebody just like you, with lighter eyes and paler cheeks and darker scales, but just like you.

“Jess— Jesse, Jesse, what’re y’doin’? What’s this?” Billy scrambles to Jesse, the captain, the one eyeing the mermaid like a blank check to cash in.

A grin split Jesse’s face. “Bucket o’gold, Billy, that’s what this is!” Billy follows the blonde’s gaze to the mermaid again, terror painting her features. Her eyes are glassy and wide, trained on him. It puts bugs under his skin but he can’t make himself look away.

“What.. what d’you mean, Jesse, what’s.. What’re we doin’?” Billy feels as though his head is clouded, his mind hazy and his thoughts narrow. His eyes are buggy with a visceral horror.

Jesse does a double take to the younger man. “Well, what d’ya do when y’catch a mermaid?” The blonde grimaces as if Billy is the strange one here. Billy shakes his head, his voice dead in his throat, cut off by Jesse anyway, “Dick, Dick, nah, that ain’t good karma. C’mon now.”

“What?” Billy whips his head to look at his crewmate, wielding a cutlass with a slight curve to it. Like a scythe, he thinks lamely, picking the words out from the murky water he’s trudging in. The mermaid can’t seem to stop crying, saltwater pouring down her cherub cheeks as her chest heaves and brow furrows. She hardly notices as Dick undoes the ropes, looking up at Jesse, ignoring Billy completely.

“I thought they ain’t feel pain?” Dick huffed, carefully bringing the sword to the mermaid’s nape. Billy can’t tear his boots from their spot on the deck, he can’t move, he wants to scream for him to stop, but his tongue is cut from his mouth. He makes eye contact again with the woman.

“I think they do, heard somebody say they scream like crazy,” another crew member shrugged, Jesse grunting in agreement.

“Jess.. Jess, please, we ain’t gotta..” Billy pleads, turning to Jesse again with pleading eyes. Jesse shoots him a look with a sharp and clear purpose. Be quiet and don’t mess this up.

Her eyes are round and hazel, pleading for something he knows he could give, Billy knows he could do something, but at he same time he can’t. He can’t do a damn thing. And he knows he’ll hate himself to the day they pour dirt over his grave for it. “I mean, it’s kinda gruesome t’get straight to it anyhow.” Dick muses, as if they’re talking about how they take their tea.

“Get straight to what?” Billy breathes, blinking some haze from his vision. He can’t break away from the mermaid’s stare. Still, nobody is hearing the soft voice of the youngest man in their midst.

The blade moves, swipes, Billy’s eyes begin to water, because all he can see as he’s looking into this mermaid’s eyes is humanity.

How strange is that? To find something so human, something so familiar in somebody so mythical. Somebody nobody on this boat can find even a little bit of sympathy for.

(Would they find sympathy for you?)

Dick is clutching her locks in his hand a moment later, a whimper passing the woman’s lips. She wraps her own arms around herself tighter as the conversation about her body continues to pass around the men. “‘Cause the hair’s good luck.” Jesse explains beside Billy, an excited smile parting his lips.

Billy feels a sickening bile rising up his throat as he listens to the last wail the mermaid lets slip from her pinkened lips, the sound like a drizzle crashing into heavy, oppressive sheets of rain. Dick is pressing the blade against her jugular, her weeping dying in the air as the cutlass slices through her skin like a fin through water, vermillion and like sea foam bubbling at the crevice in her throat, staining the deck maroon.

He’s dizzy with it all, watching but not seeing thick blood spill. A brighter color than human blood, he thinks quite lamely. A passionate vermillion.

(What had her name been? Everything has a name, even when it leaves this world, but Billy supposes every name must also be forgotten.)

Billy blinks, granting tears passage down his cheeks. Jesse hasn’t a word to breathe about it.

(Was your blood that same hue? He didn’t want to know.)

Dick hands the cutlass off to Ollinger, Billy watches through hazy eyes, eyes that hardly feel like his own. The cutlass connects with her hip, where scale meets taupe skin, the sickening sound of blade cutting through tendon, bone and tissue. Sickeningly slow, the sword's wielder struggling to wedge the blade twixt her bones, wriggling the metal, cursing and shaking off a crewmate who offers his help. Skin tears like ripped linen and organs peeking like pearls in an oyster. Bile rises up Billy's throat, boots thump on wood, he vomits over the deck as screws his sapphire eyes shut to ignore the contents of his stomach floating away on the surface of the water like a carcass.

Her eyes are permanent carvings on the back of his eyelids, her weeping etched into his mind like the grooves of a music box's drum. Vermillion is a color that paints each crevice of his brain, the sight of a knife gutting a living, almost human being like a fish something no drink can wash away.

Billy feels a familiar ache for your warm hands on his arms, your fingertips scrubbing discontentment from his skin.

(Why didn't he do anything?)

But with a crashing wave of perturbation, some horrific thought is unearthed. What great danger is he putting you in, for his own selfish yearning for you? His love was a death sentence.

(Did you know the risks? Did you have any idea of what macabre gutting he just witnessed?)

All Billy knows, as his lips part to throw more bile into the rushing sea, is that he'd never forgive himself. You might. God may. But he would throw himself into the ocean, his body limp and resigned, he'd wave off passersby and call, "There ain't a point for me no more." He'd slit his arms vertical-like and let his body decompose into the sand, let the seagulls make dinner of his sun-freckled skin.

He's hunched over the railing like a beggar, purging his body of everything ailed until the only disease remains in his mind, behind his eyes, in shades of gray and striking vermillion. There is only one way, he decides, to keep his woman safe. To keep her eyes bright and her hair flowing, her heart content and most importantly beating. Billy will live with a broken heart if it means your own will go on.

A woman's body, mutilated and stained, cut at the hip and at the hair, crashes into the ocean like discarded refuse and sends sea spray into Billy's eyes.

It was the third day you laid in the sand, closing your eyes against the sun, perking your ears to the seagull's cawing and disappointing yourself with every glance down the shore.

Billy hadn't come to you in three days since his ship docked. You knew for yourself The Seven Rivers was at port, you'd watched it come into harbor with your own eyes. A handful of shells were clutched in your hand, your thumb brushing thoughtfully over the delicate ridges of one in particular. So very many questions had piled up in the corners of your mind. What were these spots and blotches appearing on your arms and shoulders? Your skin had been red and angry for a day, but now it was darkened, why was that? A word in one of the novels he'd given you; Totalitarianism, what did that mean?

But they all went unanswered, as the third day came and went listlessly. You watched the sun as it reclined in the sky, worry embedding itself into the deeper recesses of your heart. Could something have happened to him? Was he held up somewhere? You didn't want to consider that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to meet you. Perhaps he was tired of you now, he'd had his fill, and moved on. Moved onto a girl he could hold in the night, a girl who fit better with him. A human girl.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure what possessed you that night, the pearlescent moonlight drizzling over the basin of the sea or the unease brewing in your gut, willing you to glide through the navy waters, coaxing the bravery out of you as you swim to the marina, find his crew's boat, search for a slat in the side of the hull. What are you thinking, you wonder lamely as you peer over the desk, relieved that Billy'd been truthful when he told you he often took the night shift on deck. He'd admitted to you that it gave him a moment's respite to think. You feel a swell of relief at seeing his handsome face, illuminated by the moon as his eyes turn up to meet her demure light halfway.

But the relief doesn't come unscathed by the prying hands of doubt, her fingernails digging crescent moons into your arms. If he was alive, well and free, then why hadn't he come to see you? The Billy you loved wouldn't spend a moment away from you if he didn't have to. Unless his love had waned? Unless his heart was turning to face another's? Unless he didn't want you anymore?

You swallowed down a dry sob, the very thought of such a tender love being gifted to you just to be torn from your hands was earth shattering. Billy wouldn't just be stolen from your grip, but ripped from your heart, the deep sutures keeping him stitched into the fabric of your being ripped apart for you to bleed away, sink to the bottom of the sea. The worst part? He'd still be out there, out somewhere in the world, just not with you. Living, but not at your side. Existing, just out of reach.

Your name spoken in a hushed tone snapped you out of your thoughts. You lift your gaze from the wood of the deck to see Billy's large frame looming over you, those sapphire eyes bright even when swaddled in the darkness of midnight. They dart over you, you think you see a shine to them, before he reaches over the railing to lift you by under the arms. You don't protest as he hoists you to sit on the railing. Billy's hands clutch at your arms long after you're steady, your name falling from his lips again like a prayer.

"You're here." He breathed, his brows lifting and a faint smile crossing his lips. His hands smooth over your arms as if to assure himself you're material, you won't blow away like sand under his fingers.

You nodded simply, a strange feeling brewing. A feeling you've never had to name before now, and now that the time's come, you aren't sure what to call it. "Where have you been, Billy?" His expression falters at your whisper. "I've been waiting for you, and you never came."

Billy shakes his head, lips pressing almost nervously. "I couldn't. M' sorry, I wanted to, but... you shouldn't be here." You could name the feeling now as it licked at your insides like flame. Indignation.

"What do you mean?" You huff, curling your lip and drawing your brows.

Billy throws a glance over his shoulder as if he expects a bear to come up from the depths of the boat, ignoring your question. “You need to go, baby.”

When he turns back to you, his eyes avoid yours. Could his sentiments have changed so quickly that he can hardly look at you? It's oil on the fire in your belly. "You could have at least told me to my face if you didn't want this anymore!"

You watch as horror plays across Billy's face. His eyes, the deepest cerulean, a color you'd found endless comfort in, are buggy and wide as they fall on yours, his nostrils flaring, you guess to fight off the growing shine of those eyes. He shakes his head adamantly, hands roaming upward, one to your shoulder, the other to the back of your head, finger's carded in your wet hair. "I'll want you forever. You won't get it, baby, that's fine, but even when you ain't with me, you're with me. I love you more than anything in this world. Don't you doubt that."

There he goes. It's a bucket of ice water, dousing your anger, replacing it with a shiver. You wrap your arms around yourself, discovering that dripping hair and wet skin didn't bode well against the cold night's wind. You think Billy might kiss you, might press his lips to yours in the flurry aftermath of his confession, but he only stares. After a moment he pulls away from you, to your dismay, shrugging off the maroon cardigan over his button-up. Tenderly, with a lingering brush of fingers against your shoulders, he pulls the warm fabric around you. You murmur a soft thanks, he only nods.

"If you love me," Billy nods once again, taking the chance to wrap his arms around you, your tail wetting the calf of his trousers, "then why haven't you come to see me? I thought.. I thought you didn't like me anymore. Or that you'd been hurt." You whisper, your cheek finding a home on his shoulder.

Billy's strong palm rubs up and down your back over the cardigan, his other hand pulling your hair out of the neck and combing his hands through the tresses. Oh, how you missed those hands. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows hard, his voice gruff, "I just... I don't wanna put you in danger, sugar."

"Danger?" You snake your own arms around his back, feeling the firm expanse of him. Finding comfort in it.

"I..." Billy hesitates a moment before he goes on, his resolve melting away in your presence. "I saw somethin'. The other day. N'.. It was terrible." A soft breath is sighed into your hair. Your hand drifts to his arm, squeezing him in what you hope is a comforting gesture. "I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it." Billy admits in a whisper.

You push your cheek closer to his neck, his stubble scratching your forehead, a familiar and warm sensation. "What'd you see?"

The air is silent as the night is navy. Billy holds you just a bit closer to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. You were strong, you could handle the truth of the image stained behind Billy's eyelids. But an overwhelming need to keep you safe from the world surges in him, a duty to trim all thorns that could prick you. In fact, he knows he'd let you use his own chest as a shield, take a bullet, an arrow, a cannonball, it truly didn't matter to him; if it was for you, he would swallow them all.

He simply can't choke out the words. You'd want nothing to do with him after they broke the threshold of his lips. He can bear it on his own, he tells himself. "You don't wanna know."

A frown creases your face. You pull away from his chest, it feels like tugging at two magnets. "If it's about me, then I need to know." You murmur, shaking your head. Your hands roam over his shoulders aimlessly until they find themselves cupping his face. Billy's gaze falls, avoiding yours. Absently he draws his cardigan closer around your frame, thought tightening his expression. "What'd you see, Billy?"

Your thumb rubbing over the stubble on his cheek crumbles his resolve as if it had been made of nothing. Nothing at all, in the face of your gentle soul. "They caught a mermaid." Billy's eyes search yours for a sign that you might show him mercy, let his voice die in his throat. You don't, and so he goes on. "N' killed her. Slit her throat and they.. Cut 'er at the hip. Jesse's finding a buyer for the tail."

You feel, suddenly, like you swallowed an anchor. Your face goes lax, but the rest of you tense. Billy nods, whispers lowly and draws you back into his arms, "I know, I know, baby." He nestles a kiss into your hair. "I know."

It put a feeling under your skin that you couldn't scrub away; you had a price tag. Men'd kill you and sell you like an animal, like you hadn't a heart to feel, eyes to see, a mind to wonder. How could it be? Billy held you like a bird, a hollow-boned and delicate little thing, yet what he told you confirmed your mother's warnings. Men were vicious creatures, money clouding their sense. In a sea of dirt and pollution, your Billy was a sapphire.

You hadn't realized just how rare of a thing you possessed until now.

"Is that why.. You stopped coming?" You whisper against the fabric of his button-up, his musk filling your nostrils soothingly. Billy grunts in confirmation. Another kiss is dropped to your scalp.

"S' safer for you, sweet girl." Billy mumbles, though you hear the reluctance. "M' bad news."

"Is it wrong to say I don't care?" You fist your hands in his shirt, the material soft under your grip. He sighs your name, you can sense the impending conversation, so you rush to cut him off. "I don't want to be without you. I don't care what the risks are."

"I care," Billy huffs, but he only holds you tighter. "I don't want to ever, ever see you in a net. I'd-- I'd kill myself before I let that happen."

You lift your head from his chest. His aquiline nose bumps yours as he looks down at you, his brows drawn taut. "Then we'll be careful."

"Baby-"

"No. I'm not letting this go. Not letting you go." You shake your head hurriedly. Your voice is firmer than you thought it could possibly be. Billy's eyes dart twixt yours, his lips pressing together.

"You know what you're riskin'." He murmurs, his calloused fingers brushing a wild strand of hair behind your ear. You nod. "And you still wanna be with me? You'd still choose me?" Billy huffs, eyebrows lifted and a faint, almost self-deprecating smile playing at his lips.

You allow a smile to grow on your cheeks. Because it's true, true from the deepest crevice of your heart, true from the furthest reaches of your soul. Of all the things you've found on the Earth, of all the flowers, of all the birds, of the sun, moon and the constellations, this is the most precious thing. This was something worth dying for, you thought with a rosy lightness as you press a kiss to Billy’s lips.

Every time, the kiss said. Put a million beautiful things at my feet, and I will choose you, every time.

[zestydistress]

MARBLE HORNETS TIM WRIGHT HEADCANONS

-Had to learn how to do basic things from his friends ever since he got to college. i.e. tying his shoes(the mental hospital definitely took away his shoelaces and he eventually forgot how to do it), swimming(makes entry #65 worse mentally and physically), doing laundry(bro got admitted when he was like 7 and was confined into his room for almost the entire time, he was not learning how to do laundry), sewing(no sharp objects in the ward), cooking(can't be in the kitchen as the nurses worried about the children hurting themselve), etc.

-Has a deep-rooted fear of drowning.(I like to think that ever since he was a kid he was experiencing those time warp torture sessions from the operator where he'd end up submerged underwater for unknown amounts of time)

-Fantastic at navigating. He can navigate the entirety of Rosswood forest. He can navigate any forest. I like to think that he led the guys to places in rosswood during the student film days since he was the only one to navigate the forest to get to film sites(and to get back to the parking lot)

-Has big issues with food textures, cannot stand mushy food.

-Is so sensitive when it comes to spices, bro cannot even handle a bell pepper./hj

-Cannot drink alcohol when on his medicine, was the designated driver every time he went out with friends.

-has a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep, but no one really noticed as he just lays completely still on his back with his arms pressed against his side and eyes closed until he drifts off. When he's asleep he'll move around a lot. He's a flailer. He will scream in his sleep too. Also talks in his sleep a lot and sleep walks.

-Disassociates frequently and often.

-When off his meds he cries when watching Disney movies

-Used to absolutely despise his meds because they made him feel so numb. He knew he was supposed to feel more than that and it made him even more reactive when off of them. Eventually he just grew to forget what it felt like to be off of them, he can't remember what it felt like when he could fully process emotions other than the comfortably numbed ones. He'd still get aggressive, happy, sad, etc. but he could only feel them strongly when they were in the extremes. Any other time it was just dulled from what he usually felt.

-Ever since Marble Hornets ended he's been taking care of his mom.

-Loses stuff so easily it's insane. Mostly loses his keys though.

-Has a terrible fashion sense since he was never able to choose his own clothes. Usually goes for vibrant clothes at first since he never had the option to wear anything that colorful before(this is my reasoning behind that horrendous monkey shirt he wore LOL)

-Has a kinda weak immune system. He was sick so much when he was a kid. His immune system isn't as bad as it could have been. Considering he regularly ran away and disappeared into the forest or further. His immune system got stronger when in college though.

-Picked up smoking like a month after he got out of the hospital, one of his only friends in there was an old man with a smoking problem and would always ask the staff for a smoke which they denied. He also kept calling Tim by the name of his deceased son.

-Basing him off of Night Mind's interpretation of marble hornets. So Masky isn't another personality or anything, it's just Tim trying to get to the bottom of this like Jay is. Except he's using much more... Violent methods. And he loses his memory of when he chooses to become Masky, so ToTheArk and Hoodie help him remember what their goal is(stopping Alex).

(also group headcanons:

I don't like the names masky and hoodie but I do realize they're the most recognized names for them. I love the name Techy for ToTheArk to match the theme, but I prefer calling them:

Tim = The Source

Brian = The Advocate

Jay = The Messenger

Alex = The Instigator

ToTheArk = The Projectionist

I have yet to come up with good ones for Jessica, Amy and Sarah. I have also yet to read the comics)

[dark-side-blog3]

mm sometimes i think my yanderes would take advantage of the fact that I cant do some of the things most people can do with ease like tying their shoes or telling the difference between left and right, or the way i absorb info just to force me into being a baby. Mommy kakyoin would coax me into his lap after heavily drugging me, so I just happily melt into his embrace as he asks me what sound a puppy makes only to be met with a soft whimper of me trying to speak.. or diavolo making me do kindergarten level math in the playpen he keeps in his office for me. -📱

I've been having some trouble with doing tasks most people can do, so it is fun to think about different yanderes making you do baby-level math worksheets, or French vocab sheets and crosswords meant for little kids. Or having those grid papers to write Cantonese and Mandarin, or in your case with mommy Kakyoin, katakana. Why bother teaching you kanji or hiragana? You'll only be confused. And hiragana is more commonly used-- he doesn't need you knowing what common signs and objects actually say. Then you won't feel as lost, should you manage to slip away from his hands for a moment.

Diavolo knows worksheets aren't any fun-- he'd give everything to not have to do them, and still know the people he cares about would be okay. So instead of a little duotang with worksheets for your math, linguistics, or animal noises, Diavolo tries to set up little activities for you to do every day. Little trays with a number of the day, clay in one dish so you can draw the number yourself, roll it on a die, and count it out of marbles. Calling an animal handler to show you the different birds and bugs of the devildom in the throne room (and saving trips to the royal zoo for weeks you've been extra good!).

[beetlebugdash]

My live thoughts during The Owl House finale! (Major spoiler warning!)

Why so late at night for this finale

But 10/10 for disney for doing a marathon before the finale

WHY AM I ALREADY TEARING UP IT HASNT EVEN STARTED

HERE WE GO

Oh the song

It hurts OWWWWWWWWWWW

ALL THE CHARACTER GROWTH

Here comes the tears 

Oh that wasnt the episode?

Black screen?

Oh no different dimension

HEY!

bELOS?

Creepyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Im just as confused as you luz

DID STRINGBEAN JUST SAY HI?

I dont like this

NONONO PETREFICATION

O MY

LUZ VS AMITY?

Nightmareeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

EDA WHATS GOIN ON

NO

Oh shush lilith 

ITS ALL THEIR NIGHTMARES

Willow?

Are they puppets now and their living through the nightmares?

Nice suit evil dream Gus

NOT THE SHOVE

O gosh not hunter

A WITCHES BATTLE?

Its a witches duel

ITS NOT REAL!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SMART VERY SMART

Now its the title!

And on a rubix cube

REUNITED YAY

THE KISSES AW

RAE RAE

DONT TOUCH FRANCOIS

Dog?

Belos is acting horribly sus rn

MANIPULATION EW

NOT FRANCOIS

“I can imagine”

WAIT HOW DID IT HAPPEN

EDA’S PALICEMAN IS ALIVE!

“Itty bitty spiders”

Kid dosent understand death….. Owch

Thank god there isnt any commercials

HES ALIVE?

RAINE FIGHT IT FIGHT IT

AMITY MOVED

WAIT I DIDNT KNOW THERE WERE COMMERCIALS

I DONT WANT A HACHIMALS FAMILY VACATION

NO

Ooooooooooooo owl house marathon monday (at 8pm smh)

Finally were back

JUMPSCARE PACMAN

10/10 music

Stinger hehe

Marbles?

KING ACTING LIKE A HAMSTER

JENGA!

The blushing and sadness awwww

Lucky number 13 hehe

USING THEM PRONOUNS FOR THE COLLECTOR

THEIR JUST A KID 

COLLECTOR LORE!

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Abandonment issues ow

COLLECTOR IS AN INNOCENT KID!

ADOPT THE COLLECTOR 

THE LIGHT GLIPH

NOT BELOS

YES FIGHT RAINE

RAINE VS BELOS

“IM DONE” AHAHAHAHAHA

THATS THE TITAINS HEART

WAIT OWL HOUSE ABRIDGED YAY

Uh ohhhhhhhhhhhh

NOT THE MERGE NO

Im scared mom come pick me up

LIGHT GLYPH

MISS LILITH teehee

SAFETY FOR LUZ

Back to the owl house

“The bird house”

Series recap! Tying all the episodes together!

TALKIN ABOUT SPINOFFS

The mountains!

Kindness and forgiveness

Scary animation

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Holy crow thats a lotta magic

DID RAINE DIE?

YEAAA COLLECTOR MAGIC!

tHAT DOSENT WORK COLLECTOR

NONONONO

AMPHIBIA?

WOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Oh my OH MY WHAT

EVEN HER MOM KNEW

KING AND EDA ARE PISSED

IM PISSED

Yep shes really gone wow

Dimension portal?

OW

Who what huh

HOOTY?

KINGS DAD

IN GHYPH PJS

BAD GIRL COVEN TSHIRT

“King and queen, best of both things”

AW BEST PARENT AWARD

Is that king andrias’s va?

THE BOILING ISLES

POWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aw saying something to king TELL ME

Epic music is epic music

Rest in peace

CAMILLA IS AWAKE

Uh oh 

ARE THEY PULLING A SVTFOE?

Theyd better not be

YOU BROUGHT PAPER YAY

THE TEARS AND APPOLOGIES

BOOM

NEW FORM LUZ

WOA

LONG HAIR AND MATCHING EYES TOO

YOOOOOOOOOOO

COLLECTOR HELPING!

SMOOTH ANIMATION

AW

BOOM LIGHT

THE GLYPH IN THE MOUTH

Woa skys above

THE SMILE

NOT THE FLIPPING COMMERTIALS

FINALLY

Whistle?

RAINE!

AW

TEH KISSING

“Fluffier?”

AZURA SPEECH BUT LUZ

OH NO COLLECTOR

NOW EAT THIS SUCKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Is he gone for good?

“I dont feel so good” -belos

AW THE ACCEPTANCE

ITS SO PRETTYYYYYYYYYYYY

Philip?

Oh just kick him already

KICK HIM YAY

Transformation sequence?

Back to nomal form aw

I LOAF YOU AW

Aw

IS THAT HOW IT ENDS?

STEVE!

AW REUNITED!

GAY KISS!

DARIUS AND HUNTER!

Idk how i feel about the music?

THE CUDDLING!

KISS!

HOOTYS LASHES

FRANCOIS!

Awwwww at least the collector gets a happy ending

No more glyphs…

Awwwwwwwww

LUZ!

COLLEGE?

TIMESKIP

PORTAL WORKS!

AWWWWWW

HUNTER MAKES PALICMAN

A flapjack gravestone awwwwwwwwwwwwww

THE MUSTACHE

LILITH GLOW UP

AMITY LOOKS AWESOME

Prof bump the gardner awwwwwww

Oooooooo new power

DARIUS AND AMITYS DAD SHIP?

Raine looks GOOD

GUS LOOKS COOL

EDA YESSSSSSSSSSSS

Eda became what she feared, a headmaster

KING-CENERA AW

A DRESS AND AZURA CAKE

Wow king is big

Aw a shooting star!

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Oh that was a PERFECT ENDING!

[calciumdeficientt]

RAAAAAAGH ITS TIME,,,,, SOME SUKI HCS FOR @captain-save-a-ho (i dont know what her last name is so when you see this pleeeease please please comment her last name so i can add it I’m sooooo sorry D’:)

DAISUKI KIM HCS

Literally do not assume that female bullies will be generally nicer to their victims because that is not the case. Especially not when it comes to Suki, i feel like she definitey tries to keep herself to herself more than the other bullies but its definitely not out of any form of decorum, she just can’t get more that 6 detentions each semester or Crabblesnitch will pick her up by the collar an throw her ass out on the street

She definitely started with two green converse, all pristine and cutesy, but in true converse wearer fashion she decided she wanted to make them look a little more worn out and grungy and ended up having to toss the shoe. A likely possibility is that she was doing a stupid ninja stunt with Ethan and he threw a firecracker at her, frazzling both her skirt and her converse. One shoe miraculously survived but the other one was officially lost forever. They held a funeral for it in the parking lot before promptly lighting the shoe on fire in a funeral pyre composed of several weeks worth of unfinished homework assignments and personal belongings from their most recent victims. Legends say that the fumes of burn rubber still haunt the parking lot to this day.

Suki is no stranger to uniforms, growing up in Croydon, uniforms are the norm (UK bully fans rise up btw). But because they are the norm, Suki knows every trick in the book to weasel her way out of wearing as few items of school issued clothing as humanly possible. One key way she found worked wonders, was to kick off every time she got in trouble, this worked especially well on the prefects. While power hungry, the prefects are not paid for their labour, and they have little to no actual punishing power. All they could really do was A- make her change, B- send her to Crabblesnitch who would then have her sent to detention or C- keep her in her dorm. A good few tries of this eventually allowed her to keep her shorts as neither the prefects, nor Crabblesnitch could really be bothered to keep trying to tame her

Number one victim of tripping over shit that people toss on the ground, you’d assume that because she spends so much time looking at her shoes she’d actually be the safest person from stray marbles or discarded banana peels but this could not be further from the truth. Her hubris of literally never tying her shoelaces means that even if she did manage to see the object and swerve around it, she’d probably end up stomping on one of her laces and eating shit anyway.

Totally gets the piss taken out of her over her accent, its just a fact of life at bullworth that if there’s a discernable flaw about you that can be pulled apart and used against you, its going to be. Consider it Newton’s fourth law or some shit. I dont know… I’m not a nerd, i dont know how many laws that guy had in his arsenal. Not that it really matters to Suki, she can dish it just as well as she can take it, even if the constant barrage of poor imitations of her accent are really, REALLY fucking annoying.

Doesn’t really care for class, she’ll only go if she gets busted, even then she wont really pay attention. Her parents moved her across the ocean, away from her life in London, and not even to a good town or a good school. She got sent to a dump full of creeps and kids that are going nowhere, can you really blame her for wanting to cut class and fire her slingshot at the Jocks while they do their drills on the football field?

The dragonfly tattoo was done by Otto on his kitchen table in Blue Skies for about 12 bucks and a pack of smokes. It was done half with a gun and half stick and poke, not on purpose either. Otto’s gun broke halfway through so he boiled an old sewing needle and did the rest of the tattoo with that. It hurt like hell and got very very infected, but it still looks fucking awesome so like… swings and roundabouts I guess.

[homestarrunner]

first, thanks for this blog, i love seeing all the fan art and screenshots on my dash!! but im curious—i grew up watching homestar runner as a young teen in the early 00s, so for me hsr content brings back memories. but it seems there are a lot of kids/teens getting into homestar -now-, which is awesome!! but i wonder where or how they heard of it? do the admin(s) of this blog know how new fans are finding out about it? is it via youtube, or game tie-ins/easter eggs (like poker night), their parents/family, or something else? the internet has transformed so much since the early days of flash and custom domains, it surprises me that homestar has a dedicated fanbase in 2023. either way im super happy it's still being loved after all this time. ty again for a great blog :)

Mod @frank-bennedetto -

Honestly I got Into it from hearing about it on Tv Tropes back around 2011-2013, but I really got into it after Marble Hornets (yes the slendeman thing) ended and I needed a new webseries to help me get through highschool. I could probably figure out the exact date I really got into it if I dared to look back on my main Tumblr blog.

[omegaremix]

Cold Cave / Black Marble / Choir Boy @ Warsaw, N.Y.C.; June 14, 2018.

Hello, Warsaw. We meet again. It’s been seven months since I first visited the Polish powerhouse on Driggs Avenue in Greenpoint, one of my all-time favorite places to visit. That was when I attended Hospital Productions 20th Anniversary showcase and it became an unforgettable experience. This time, it’s a shorter affair featuring only three acts: Choir Boy, Black Marble, and headliner Cold Cave. The ritual is the same as last time and every time. Wait on the platform, take the train, hop on the subway line, and arrive in the neighborhood none more blacker where you stand against the venue’s wall. It was all clear out. Thursday’s warm air and blue skies was not symbolic of the night’s wicked-black climax. I called my sis- to tell her how euphoric I was feeling, experiencing these days and moments I normally don’t but should more often. For every time I waited entry at Warsaw, there was always someone from Stony Brook who I would randomly spot. Last time it was WUSB’s Cornflower zipping past on his bike. Now it’s Marcel, my queer friend from The Stony Brook Press whom I took a quick two seconds to be sure it was him. I was right. We hugged each other and then my anxiety shot up because I haven’t seen him since The Press’ 35th and the venue was ready to open its’ doors. He had to leave anyway for Ru Paul’s Drag Race, the diet of queer champions, but promised him we’d resume catching up down the road.

The line now entered Warsaw. Unlike Hospital’s instant get-go, we waited almost an hour for the opening act to go. Salt Lake City’s Choir Boy was first up, self-proclaimed Mormons (kidding or not) currently signed to Dais Records. They’re a spot-on bullseye of Eighties-aesthetic synthpop, new wave, and light goth-rock that was pleasing and lush. Never abrasive but gentle, breezy, and aurally sentimental. Adam Klopp’s vocals make the outfit’s namesake (he has sung in church choirs), hitting high notes just floating above the collective’s perfect dream world. Their synths, guitars, beats, and riffs and basslines fall right into my current Eighties kick, keeping the vibe alive. And note Kyle Hooper’s dangling earring when he’s right behind synths…

Black Marble was one of two reasons why I chose to be there. WUSB’s Nightmare Aquarium is responsible for making me a fan of theirs during a summer’s transition to Lindenhurst. Their output has been nothing but good to me. To this day, their sound is one I have yet to figure out and that’s a great thing. Chris Stewart / Black Marble got a great standing ovation revisiting his Brooklyn hometown as a new Los Angeles resident. It didn’t change the total mood or quality of his music if ever the slightest. Still a two-man two-guitar outfit without Ty Kube and a drum machine, Black Marble got right to it filling the vastness with said guitars and drum machines upfront as Stewart’s vocals receded far away and above into the open space. Even if there’s a cold, distant, low-fidelity quality in Black Marble, things somehow sound upbeat for its rays of sunshine. A clean perfect set all the way through.

Cold Cave finally take the stage. It can be said (and said again many times here) that they were one of the essential summer sparks igniting my personal revitalization of sorts during the post-economic crash. From then on, their songs continuously watermarked some of the better key moments in my life without fail, so it’s why I paid a visit to see them live as a thank-you. Wes Eisold made his entrance along with wife Amy Lee (guitars, synths), Ryan McMahon (drums), and Nils Blue (guitars) to open the set with songs from You & Me & Infinity. The New Order-inspired “Glory” really got the crowd going. Soon, New York City got a special treat only for themselves: an appearance by Genesis P-Orridge to perform “Comprehension”, her 2015 collaboration with Cold Cave and Black Rain. It’s her residency, so why not have Cold Cave make the most of their visit? Then the blinding “Heaven Was Full” and later on their marquee hit “Confetti”, which to me was the entire night.

Then, flashing solid colors went wild as Cold Cave went into “Rainbow Girls” mode, the only time the show went color. What did we win? A visit by author Max G. Morton of Eisold’s Heartworm Press, who came on-stage to deliver “Heavenly Metals” before Cold Cave’s ultimate closeout. Morton was decked in all black just like their set, standing tall and no doubt couldn’t be fucked with as he spewed his brand of cold despotic mean testimony. A few more songs and the night was history. Cold Cave delivered one of the most powerful performances I ever felt. McMahon’s drums hit hard, loud and clear through Eisold, Lee, and Blue’s blasting synths and guitars. Most of their setlist and songs I hoped they’d play was more I could ever ask for. “Confetti” was the start of a new era for me when all was almost lost. “Comprehension” has become one of my all-time favorite songs of this decade, if not, ever. “Glory” followed suit to become a new memorable winter favorite of mine. The string of favorables still keeps coming from them. With a new American Nightmare record out, it’s Eisold’s winning year. No bullshit, no moshing, no shoving; save for the guy standing next to me (and it had to be him) who was furiously stomping the venue floor to the point of near-collapse, and almost tearing the venue’s front rail off. Someone was a little into himself at the show, no?

My second visit to Warsaw in as many months was just like the first. Randomly encounters with friends from Stony Brook, amazing line-ups in an amazing venue, and another day in Greenpoint where the fever pitch comes from being in a great place in a great time and having the right ties with specific people. It’s not every day I experience it, but when I do, I feel like with all the motherfuckers and fishnet-wearing witches around me in Boy Harsher, Joy Division, Cat Power, and D.S.-13 shirts, I hit the jackpot.

[silenthillmutual]

32 and 37 for Alfred!

1 for Daniil

Alfred

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Personally see him as someone who gets a kick out of anti-jokes. I think it's very much something that catches him off guard.

37. What they really think about themselves

Absolutely love this question because I personally love looking at Bloodborne characters through a lens of "what is their identity outside of this and do they even have one?" Because the flow of time is dependent on the player meeting some sort of goal I often wonder "how long have the NPCs been here, how long have they been doing this, do they remember who they were before the hunt began?" And for Alfred I think the answer is that he doesn't have a stable sense of self and is afraid to actually look inward and determine if anything even is there. So I think he's tricked himself into believing he's doing good and is good because if he doesn't then what does he have, really?

Daniil

1. Canon I outright reject

I reject the Pathologic 2 line where he says he doesn't like kids (to Clara, I presume, though I've only found this on the wiki and not in game) because it doesn't actually fit with the way he interacts with kids in Classic or in the Marble Nest DLC. Like he's not the best with them, granted, but it seems obvious to me that he cares about kids and just struggles with showing it.

ty for the asks :)

[buenasxncches]

dream a little dream of me; prompt 004

tw: mentions of homophobia and disowning.

stars fading but i linger on dear...

There’s still lingering uncertainty, skepticism, that can’t be fully shaken off. Jose has grown so accustomed to keeping the dreamy aspects of himself tampered down and held close to the chest. If he allowed himself to be guided in his investigations by things that came to him in dreams, then only he knew. No one would believe him if he said anything, he knows how they would’ve regarded him. They would’ve thought of him exactly how he would’ve thought of anyone who told him they were allowing themselves to be driven by things they couldn’t see, by feeling, by some mysterious force. He strived to be as grounded as possible, to stick to the cold, hard facts, but his intuition, his gut, was always the strongest force. The truth is José María had always been a dreamer forcing himself to be practical, tying lead weights to his ankles to keep from floating away. Hoping and dreaming are helpful for getting through this wicked life, but you can only allow yourself so much before reality strikes you like a jealous lover, demanding that you pay attention to what’s in front of you. The other shoe always drops. He finds himself looking up at the statue of his father, Hypnos, god of rest. José laughs a little at the thought, knowing that this revelation of his descendance did, in fact, put to rest a terrible thing that had been eating away at him for most of his life (even if he tried his damnedest to convince himself otherwise). And in other ways, it’s awakened other parts of himself, the hungriest, most aching parts.  There’s a polaroid photo in his hand. It’s a slightly faded snapshot of a much younger José, about eight years old, sporting a wide gap-toothed smile, being held in a loving embrace by his aunt. It’s one of his most prized possessions, one of the only photos of himself with his aunt he managed to keep all these years. She’d died when he was still pretty young, and he hadn’t been able to salvage much from his parents’ home when they disowned him. He held onto this photo and spoke to his aunt when he needed someone to talk to, when he needed guidance. She was the only person who allowed him to be himself, to listen to him, and let him breathe when he was a kid. Even to this day, José can feel her presence, he knows she’s the best parts of him, the ones that are brave. For so long he thought his dreams, that intuition that guided him, was her. Now he knows that it was actually Hypnos this whole time. There’s a little bit of sadness at realizing that it wasn’t his aunt watching over him and guiding him through life, but it’s barely there. He knows that she still helped all this time, in a way, and that nothing could really take that away.  Hypnos has given him the gift of knowing that the man who raised him isn’t his father. He’d never been a true father, and now José has the comfort of knowing that he doesn’t have any ties to that man whatsoever. The man who saw through him, who only ever turned his gaze upon him in scrutiny. José, for so long, believed that love was rough like that, that it made you push someone to be better, to chip away at them like marble. The thing he learned after so many failed attempts, is that he would never actually be able to reach a level of accomplishment enough to be deemed as the best version of himself. The best version of himself was one that didn’t exist, the man had made that clear when he came out, letting the mask fully slip once and for all. No more pretense, just disdain. José had always been a stranger in his home, living on borrowed time, an obligation and nothing more. The part of him that yearned for a father that would be proud of him, that wouldn’t be angry at his existence, has been soothed. And so, José bows his head before this statue of Hypnos, his father, and places one of his most prized possessions before him, in offering.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. Thank you for always pointing me in the right direction. Thank you for allowing me to dream, to hope. Thank you for giving an answer to the reason I never felt like I was truly a part of the world around me. Thank you for opening the door to a life with more to offer, one with endless possibility. José can finally start the process of learning how to shake off the weights tied to his ankles, and allow himself to float up into the heavens, knowing that there will be somewhere soft to land even miles above the ground. “Thank you.” Some day José María might even learn not to wait for the other shoe to drop. 

[jaijaitbinks]

What if Genos watched Saitama's hero series as a kid too? Saitama learns this when they mention it in the news, about the actors or a remake. Saitama is surprised because he's older than Genos so things from his time would already be forgotten. But Genos explains that this series was so popular that they used to do reruns in tv when he was little.

They're happy to have something in common to talk about, and they even find the chapters in Internet. The series itself is more cringe than they remembered, but strangely nostalgic and keeps its charm.

YOUR BRAIN. GOD, THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE OMFG

Oh, the fluff potential 🥺

Imagine the actors' interviews are on TV during a very quiet evening—the usual news updates long since drowned out by both of them. Saitama is cutting out some coupons for cleaning supplies (and one for notebooks), Genos is laser-focused on drawing something Saitama can't make out from where he's sitting, their beand new slow-cooker is cooking the nicely marbled steak they got as a gift from King (the day before, a new game King was dying for came out and he was too anxious to go and get it himself because everyone would've flooded the shops and crowds are Gross. Saitama and Genos offered to go for him instead and successfully saved him a copy).

All of a sudden, music plays from the TV, quietly because the volume wasn't that high, but Saitama heard it all the same. It sounded Familiar, very upbeat and over the top, with a guitar riff that was unforgettable to him, so he looked up. It took a minute to process what he was looking at, but when it clicked, his lips parted gently in a surprised stare.

Nostalgia hits him square in the face when old clips are being played. He has memories of tying tablecloths and curtains to the sleeves/straps of his shirts as capes, only to get yelled at to take them off. He remembers, back when kids didn't think he was weird, playing Heroes vs. The World Ender, his character always inspired by his favorite hero Junkyōsha. He remembers a time where he would stand in front of the TV, intently watching his heroes fight, almost lose, then come up victorious in a way that had his small soul flailing its arms and jumping with glee.

Before he knows it, he's smiling. Now he's actually listening as the interviewer asks the cast questions about the up and coming reboot. Sadly, Saitama knows how most reboots usually go, but this cast seems genuine and kind. And he can tell a good half of them were also fans of the show, too—completely ecstatic to be characters in their favorite childhood show. He has hope for it.

He can't say why he looked towards Genos—maybe to tell him about the show, maybe to check up on him—but he does, only to be promptly met with the cyborg gawking at the TV. There's a look on his eyes, intense but in a way that was... well, not nicer—all of his expressions were nice, especially when they were intense—but more sweeter under the surface. Like he was in awe. Kind of how he always looked at Saitama whenever he said something "wise", but different. He realized quickly what Genos was feeling.

"Woah- Wait, You watched this show too??" He asked, scissors and coupons forgotten. Genos snaps out of his wonderstruck stare to look at Saitama. "I thought it ended after 5 years?"

"You watched it, too, sensei!?" The cyborg was elated, eyes shining with amazement and pure, unfiltered joy. It tweaked at Saitama's heart, and full on pulled when Genos began to smile. "When I was younger, they did a rerun of it because of its popularity. It didn't truly stop airing until 7 years ago."

"I could've been watching this back in high school?" He laughs a little. "Damn it, that would've made classes so much easier to get through! Whenever a show I liked was airing that day, that's all I would look forward to for hours. I'd do all my work just so the time would pass by faster." A humored grin spreads across his face. "When I was a kid, I did that every Wednesday and Friday when it came on. My dad was so mad that the only days I got good scores on anything was when Onikisu Ketsugō was on."

"I remember doing something similar as well," Genos says, smiling fondly—easily. "I'd come home and run to the living room immediately, and my mother would already have a glass of juice and sandwiches or slices of fruit for me on the table."

Saitama knows for certain that Genos is over the moon now, although he's trying his best to restrain it. Having him to talk about his parents, or childhood in general, was never easy on him. Not like this. Genos so happily shared a memory like that with him, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of him or excited to see him so happy.

"Who was your favorite hero? I used to be obsessed with Junkyōsha. His cape was so cool with the galaxy pattern on the inside and the white outisde."

"I did really like his costume. But I... I liked Zentoku the most. I never knew why, although their personality was very fun."

"Oh, yeah! I remember them! Weren't they like, really edgy, but always smiling no matter what happened? I used to think they were so weird, but now I really liked how they did that..."

And the conversation goes on. For the first time, Saitama rambles. He goes over 20 words almost everytime he talks, and Genos shares many memories without hesitation. They talk about their favorite episodes, what characters they disliked, the ones they wished they could change. Hell, during dinner, as they were eating that perfectly marbled steak, they made jokes and discussed character rewrites. Made new ones, brought back one-offs. They had so much fun that day, and when the remake came out a few months later, they watched the first episodes together.

[justaturtleindisguise]

I just found your Artemisia post and i absolutely need more info on the girlie. She has my heart!!!

Some prompts if you need inspo:

She loves bugs, but would she eat a bug? Did she try as a little kid maybe?

When she is older, does she learn to control the gravity aspect better? If she masters it eventually, does she go on flights with donnie as quality time???

Her nickname is artsie literally, has she tried to draw or otherwise be... artsy? If she did wll, does she bond through that with mikey? If she is baadddd then how did her bros console her? How did mikey specifically comfort her? (I need more mikey and lil sister)

You can answer these as text or maybe take one and draw a like a lil doodle 👀 ? Anything you give me will be tasty tasty meal. Ty for feeding me ^^

-@lunya-lunacy though my main bc I am too lazy to switch accounts just to leave an ask.

Heheheee I'm so glad you like my baby girl !!! :D

I'll give two answers for each question, because both Artsies are very different from each other :]

She loves bugs, but would she eat a bug? Did she try as a little kid maybe?

12!Artemísia definitely would eat a bug. She's absolutelly facinated with them because she never saw anything like bugs before and will admire them like they're sparkly glass marbles, but she's also very impulsive and likes to chew on stuff to try new textures, so eating a bug is not off her list- I like to imagine Raph seeing her happily chewing on something and then he notices is a goddamn ROACH and he absolutely panics and starts trying to make her spit it like she's a puppy chewing on plastic, like, "Oh no no no, spit it out for the love of GOD, THIS ISN'T GOOD FOR YOU-"

As for Rise!Artemísia, I don't think she'd even dream of eating a bug- Her interest and facination about bugs is more delicate (and nerdy) than her counterpart. She keeps entire ant colonies and spiders in glass terrariums and she takes care of them very attently. She names all her bugs and gets extremelly attached to them, and she's also a very picky eater. She'd see Raph snacking on a beatle and imediatelly start to cry her eyes out lmao-

When she is older, does she learn to control the gravity aspect better? If she masters it eventually, does she go on flights with donnie as quality time???

Flying is very hard for her, I think that even as a adult she'd struggle a little. But Artsie is good at finding the best parts of things and making them her streight, so instead of using her mystic gravity to go up, she'd start using it to press down. Make her punches heavier, to press her enemies against the ground and be more grounded during fights, the flying part working more like a way of traveling around or to make battles more favorable to her to avoid being attacked. Her and Donnie would absolutelly bond about it too, like to imagine them being the absolutelly chaos beans they are and testing her gravity control to the max and bending increasingly stronger materials like tin cans.

Her nickname is artsie literally, has she tried to draw or otherwise be... artsy? If she did wll, does she bond through that with mikey? If she is baadddd then how did her bros console her? How did mikey specifically comfort her? (I need more mikey and lil sister)

Rise!Artsie is not so good at material art like drawing/sculpting/sewing, but she's very good at musical art! She can play the guitar, the drums and the piano. I see Artie playing songs with her guitar and shaking her bow-mask like she's in a rock show while Mikey sings. They're so noisy and silly /aff She wouldn't let Mikey do things like paint on her shell tho, because is made out of cartilage and it's very sensible, but she'll watch him painting their brother's shells and giving lil ideas. When she feels sad she gets very snappy with everyone and doesn't like to talk a lot, so Mikey being the responsible big brother he is, makes her silent company, some times he makes her a lil snack or they turtle-pile until she feels like opening up to him.

12!Artsie is not much of an artist. She draws and doodles together with writing to express feelings to her family, but she's still learning to put things together. Mikey is absolutelly delightful everytime she draws something anyways and will show whatever it is to everyone. He's very excited to be a big brother for the first time in his life and he absolutelly loves that lil turtle kid. They do basically the same thing (as Rise) when she's feeling bad about something, but Mikey is still learning how to be a silent companion (under the threat of having his finger bitten off during Artzy's outbursts). Still a lot of trial and error, but he's getting the gists of being a big bro :)

Thank u for all the questions, it always makes me so happy to answer stuff about my characters !! /gen I'd draw some silly doodles to follow my answers too but is 6AM and I'm in the bus to school KAJSKA ;u;