#These scenarios are good practice

[debtofdeception-if]

Okay, okay- first of all, I'm obsessed. Second, how would V react to a blatant display of someone trying to steer away like a sweet or naive MC from him?? Ahh, I hope that's not too spoilery. If it is, a different question. How would the Ro's react to the MC, in the middle of the night, waking them up and saying they are going to go dance in the rain? Love love love the game, so excited to see more!!

Thank you! And I’m sorry, that is a spoiler 😔. As for your other question:

V-

It’s midnight.

The rain taps gently against the floor-to-ceiling windows, steady and calming, almost like it’s calling your name. You shift beneath the satin sheets, careful not to wake V as you try to slide out from their arms.

But their grip tightens.

They lean in, lips brushing your ear, voice low and husky from sleep.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A chill runs through you at the sound of it.

“I want to dance in the rain,” you murmur, eyes drifting to the window, where the city glows faintly behind the blur of water.

V lets out a slow breath, almost a sigh.

“You’re not leaving me to go dance in the rain at midnight. We’ve got a rainfall showerhead we can put to good use in the morning.”

You turn to face them, straddling their hips, your voice soft.

“Come with me.”

They give you a look, half amused, half tempted.

“It’s cold out,” they say.

You smile, hands sliding beneath the covers to trace over their stomach.

“Then keep me warm.”

Their eyes linger on yours, then flick to your mouth. You lean in, just close enough for your lips to brush.

“You don’t want to miss this,” you whisper. “I’ll make it worth it.”

They stare at you for a moment, then sit up, hands already on your waist.

“You know just how to get your way,” they say, voice low.

A-

You watch the rain roll down the window, droplets racing each other to the bottom. The soft rhythm of it calls to you, steady and soothing.

Making up your mind, you pull the heavy comforter off your body and begin to slide out of bed as quietly as you can. But the moment your warmth starts to leave, A stirs. Their eyes squint open, just barely, and their hand reaches out to wrap around yours.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

You run your finger gently over theirs, voice low.

“I want to go dance in the rain.”

They blink, trying to shake off the sleep, then prop themselves up on one elbow.

“It’s midnight, you crazy person,” they say, laughing through the haze of grogginess. “Besides, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I won’t get sick if you keep me warm,” you say, your hand sliding slowly up their arm. “Come with me. Live a little.”

A hesitates, studying your face in the low light. After a few seconds, they sigh and give in.

“Fine. But you better never say I don’t love you,” they mutter with a smirk, already reaching for you.

I tried I'm sorry, hopefully, this isn't cringe 😂🤭

[factual-fantasy]

After making this post with Bulkhead and Wheeljack, I wanted to try drawing the bots in my colored line art style in hopes the characters would pop a bit more.

Some hours later and this piece is finally done! I personally think the colored lines were a success! But MAN did this take a long time to draw.😩I will either have to just be extra patient when drawing the bots, or will have to start testing out those simplified redesigns ideas I have floating around 😅

[childrenofcain-if]

D + MCs who do ballet? Classic they were a punk, they did ballet trope 🤭

How would it go if D somehow stumbled into MC dancing alone at a studio?

the music echoed softly through the studio, a haunting piece by rachmaninoff played on piano, filling the wide, empty space like smoke. it wasn’t the kind of music meant for performance—it was private, introspective, full of cascading notes that fell like raindrops on the skin.

you stretched your arms upward, your fingers trembling slightly before melting into the next move, a slow arabesque. the floor beneath your feet seemed alive, absorbing your every step and breath, your body moving as though the music was stitched into your veins.

the studio smelled faintly of resin and varnished wood, and the walls were lined with mirrors that reflected you in endless variations—an infinite string of dancers chasing one another in ghostly synchronization. the barre stretched along one side, but you weren’t touching it. you were in the center of the room, spinning lightly on the ball of your foot, every motion deliberate and delicate.

you were a swan, or at least that’s what you told yourself, gliding across the floor with a mixture of grace and control. but there was something raw beneath the practiced movements. dancing alone always brought out a part of you you couldn’t quite name, something wild and unpolished that made your heart beat a little faster.

outside the studio, D was grumbling to themself, rifling through their sheet music with a kind of irritated intensity. their classical music class had been predictably boring, full of lectures about bach’s counterpoint and unnecessarily complicated homework assignments.

“this is ridiculous,” they muttered as they stuffed the papers into their bag. “who cares how many times he modulates in a fugue? it’s like professor khan wants me to suffer.”

they were halfway down the hallway when the faint sound of music drifted to their ears, a piece they didn’t recognize but which tugged at something in them nonetheless. it wasn’t from their class, wasn’t the droning lecture about sonatas or fugues. this music was alive, sharp and sweet like glass catching sunlight.

D slowed their steps, distracted, and when they passed by the glass window of the studio door, they nearly walked into the wall.

they stopped. then they stepped back.

their gray eyes widened as they caught sight of you moving across the studio, your body arching and spinning in time with the music.

you weren’t even looking at the mirrors, weren’t watching yourself at all, as if you didn’t need to see your reflection to know you were beautiful. your hair was pulled back, a few strands escaping and sticking to your neck, and your face was focused, serene.

for a moment, D forgot to remind themself to breathe.

you didn’t look real, not in the fluorescent light of the studio or the sterile smell of the building. you looked like a painting, like something fragile and otherworldly that didn’t belong in the same space as the chipped tile floor or their scuffed sneakers.

“god, they’re unreal,” D muttered under their breath, and then snorted at themself. “get a fucking grip, rook.”

but they didn’t move away. instead, they opened the door slowly, slipping inside without a sound. you didn’t notice them at first, too lost in the dance, and D leaned back against the wall, their arms crossed as they watched you. their usual smirk softened into something unreadable, their practiced nonchalance dulled by the quiet awe in their expression.

when you finally stopped, mid-pirouette, and turned toward the mirror, you caught sight of their reflection. you jumped slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

“D?” you said, your voice breathy with surprise.

D pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward you, their smirk reappearing like a reflex.

“don’t stop on my account,” they said, their tone teasing but warm. “i was enjoying the show.”

your cheeks flushed, though you tried to hide it by rolling your eyes. “flatterer. how long have you been watching?”

“long enough to know i could never do that spinny thing,” D said, gesturing vaguely to the space where you’d been dancing.

you blinked at them, caught off guard, before laughing. “the spinny thing? you mean a pirouette?”

“sure, whatever it’s called,” D said, stepping closer. “i kind of wanna learn it.”

you hesitated, eyeing them skeptically. “you’re not exactly the most... graceful person, D.”

“hey,” they said, placing a hand over their chest in mock offense. “i’ll have you know i’ve got excellent rhythm. i just… don’t use it for dancing.”

you snorted but relented, gesturing for them to follow you to the center of the room. for the next few minutes, you tried to teach them the basics—how to balance, how to turn without tripping over their own feet.

D was, predictably, terrible. they stumbled more than once, their movements awkward and stiff, but you didn’t seem to mind. you laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. honestly, it didn’t seem like D cared much about looking foolish in front of you.

“i think i’m doing it,” they said at one point, wobbling precariously as they attempted a turn.

“you’re definitely not,” you said, laughing so hard you had to clutch your stomach.

“harsh,” D said, grinning despite themself.

but then, as you were correcting their stance, their hands brushed yours, and something shifted. the laughter died in your throat as D turned to face you fully, their gray eyes suddenly serious.

“you’re fucking amazing,” they murmured, their voice low.

before you could respond, they cupped your face in their hands and kissed you, their lips soft but insistent against yours. you froze for half a second before melting into the kiss, your arms wrapping around them.

the barre was behind you, cool against your back as D pressed closer, their hands slipping from your face to your waist. the kiss deepened, and for a while, the rest of the world fell away—the music, the mirrors, the studio. it was just you and them, tangled together, desperate and unthinking.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, you looked at them with wide eyes.

“what’s gotten into you?” you asked, half-chuckling.

D smirked, their forehead resting against yours. “i just couldn’t resist you, my sweet swan.”

you rolled your eyes, though there was no heat behind it, and pulled them into another kiss. when you finally broke apart again, D leaned in close, their breath warm against your ear.

“for the record,” they murmured, “i’m a much better performer in bed.”

you groaned, pushing them away playfully. “now you’ve gone and ruined the moment.”

“and yet, you’re still with me,” they said, grinning.

you shook your head, grabbing your bag and slipping your hand into theirs. together, you walked out of the studio, the music still echoing faintly behind you.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Mayhaps your thoughts on how foul legacy/childe would view and interact with a Divine Creator trope?

i assume you mean SAGAU where you're viewed as a god rather than as an imposter, and ask and ye shall receive!!!

although he serves the Tsaritsa, Childe's true devotion lies with you, like almost all of the Harbingers. the Divine Creator, the one who carefully crafted Teyvat and all who live there, hung the stars in the sky, mapped out the cycle of fate- truly, your power surpasses all of Celestia and the Abyss, and Childe is only happy to bow to the one who gave life to the world. Foul Legacy worships you even more somehow, the entire Abyss holding you in reverence, as the one who gives them strength while all above the surface scorn them. he's sworn to serve the Creator, should he ever meet you- what will he become at your hands? a servant? an assassin? a weapon of war? whatever you decree his fate to be, Foul Legacy accepts it with open arms and a steeled conviction

none of these, as it turns out. you're quiet and uncertain when you meet Childe- quite odd for such a powerful deity- but your eyes light up when he tries to show you his use through his Foul Legacy transformation, reaching up towards him with a soft smile. Legacy tilts his head curiously with a chitter- perhaps you want him to be at your height? - and lowers his head slowly. but you simply put a hand in his hair, ruffling the coppery locks and scritching behind his twisted horns, and Foul Legacy's single, crystalline eye flares, then dims as he melts against your touch. Childe's Abyssal half begins to purr, carefully slumping onto the ground so he can focus entirely on leaning against your hand, being as close as possible. your smile grows with delight, and all of Teyvat hums with your happiness as you pet and caress a rumbling Foul Legacy, both of you gazing at each other adoringly

the Creator said, to the Eleventh Harbinger, "Please, be my friend." and so he agreed, and never left

[thelilylav]

“I take it back… come back to me.. please…”

- Apple watching over Briar after her story plays out (and trying not to kiss her)

My ref:

[willowser]

i feel a similar way about bakugou!!!!! like 20s bakugou, he gets to a point and realises women are a thing? if that makes sense? he's never looked at anyone that way and then all of a sudden he gets to know you and it changes things and now he feels like hes going through puberty again with how nervous and weirdly tense you make him feel WAHHH

YOU GET ME !!!!! YOU GET ME !!!!!!!!

i really struggle to describe it bc he's not. clueless. you know what i mean. like he's doing reports with denki and sero and one of them whistles and is like "damn would commit crimes for an ass like that" about someone walking by and i think he peeks, but !!!! is ultimately scowling at them and smacking them over the head with a rolled up piece of paper, like "grow the fuck up," !!!

and i think he does find some people like. generally attractive, and he's maybe even doing a once over, but he's not going up to them !!! for no reason !!! he's busy !! got shit to do !!!! and if they're coming up to him to ask something—anything; about the time or the weather or the hero top ten or even if he's single—he's so direct. no bullshit. no fluff. he's not making it easy for anyone LOL

and i think he does that with you !!! at first !!! like i imagine you're in his life for a few months before he even looks twice !!! he is attracted to you, he knows that right away, but it's like. level three LOL he knows it, he's aware of it—but !! he doesn't care !!! until he does !!! and i envision it like a slap to the FACE for him !!! his thoughts take a drift towards you and he's like. when did THIS happen ?????? but it's too late by then LOL he's fucked LOL level 100 bc he couldn't be normal about things if he tried akfhkahfga

omg and it's exactly like going through puberty again LMAOOO you're walking away from him and he kind of. glances up. just before you turn the corner. getting a view of your ass. AND THEN HE'S HEARING SERO'S VOICE IN HIS EAR AND WANTS TO DIE alhflahgla he GETS it and he HATES IT bc he's !! not like them !!! LMAO

[aka-indulgence]

How do ya'll focus on one piece of work/fandom/idea. I feel like my braincells are constantly ping ponging from fandom to fandom, blorbo to blorbo, fanfic to original ideas, writing to drawing,

I have too many thoughts and only two hands 😭

[chasingthewesternsun]

Cours de Dessin bUT with Chiss eyes instead

[queerbeverage]

Muskslut girls and skatergirls are a match made in heaven. We make out sloppy style after practice and you can huff my armpits, okay? Maybe i'll give you my stinky shirt, or a really stinky elbow protector. You'll go crazy at the smell puppy <3

[aecholapis]

[lilrobinbird]

"draw me like one of your French girls"

Atuat to Hei-Ran or Hei-Ran to Atuat?

More so focused on who can actually draw? LOL cause personality-wise, Atuat is probably more likely to be laying naked with a hand on her hip? maybe? (agree? disagree?)

Oh Atuat is 100% making the pose and asking Hei-ran to draw her, the mood is great, the sensuality in the air, and then turns out Hei-ran can't draw and shows her something like this

[junowritings]

I've been having this brainrot for days now! Since Twisted wonderland is all things magical, they have to have love potions or something of that sort. Would you mind doing an imagine where someone was trying to poison the reader but it backfired and they fell in love with Ruggie instead? Even better if Ruggie and the reader are already together. I'm not sure if you do male reader pronouns but if not, gender neutral pronouns would be great too.

Oh I am here for any and all brainrot right now I am here to listen!. And dw I usually stick to GN unless specified otherwise so I can totally write for a male reader - hope this one's to your liking hun!

Quick tw for love potions just in case even tho Ruggie and reader are already in an established relationship.

-------

Oh, this is just too perfect.

Ruggie’s always teased you for being too trusting, always taking people for their word. Maybe it’s just thanks to your upbringing, or you’re just so stubborn in believing the best in the people here at NRC, but it’s something that’s earned you plenty of teasing jabs from the hyena beastman, enjoying the way it never fails to get a reaction out of you no matter how many times he’s pointed it out. 

You’re lucky that you’ve got such a wonderful boyfriend like Ruggie to make sure that that trusting nature of yours doesn’t get you wrapped up into more trouble than you’re already in, huh? The treats and snacks you give him in return are more than enough of an incentive to make good on that promise, even if he’d still gladly protect you without the bribes (not that you need to know that, those donuts you buy him are too sweet to lose.) But even he’s loath to admit that he can’t always be there, and it seems that in these small windows of absences that things finally catch up to you. At least you’ve got that ragtag group of friends of yours that never fail to shadow you around campus; surely they’re not naive enough to not spot a ploy when they see one?

Turns out that was wrong - and next thing he knows he’s getting a frantic text from that redheaded hothead Ace telling him about a potion going wrong and someone trying to get back at you for some kinda slight. It’s not unheard of for grudges between students getting out of hand - Ruggie’s seen that not even Leona’s been immune to the odd knucklehead trying to knock him down a peg, so he’s already running through options and revenge plots as he’d tracked you down. 

And what he sees once he gets there? Well, thank the sevens the trouble this time around comes with such…amusing results.

“Y’know, I really love everything about you, Ruggie.”

He’s heard these words before - you never shy away from reminding him; but that’s usually saved for the privacy of your dorm room between quickly exchanged kisses whenever he comes over feeling needy for some of your affection. This time you’re squared away in one of the empty classrooms for your own safety, pressed up close against Ruggie’s side with your head resting on his shoulder as your hands cling to one of his own, tracing hearts and other obscure patterns on the palm of his hand. You don’t shy away from smothering him in affection, a far cry from how you’d been when you’d left for your potionology class not even an hour before, and who is he to not make the most of the way you’re acting so lovey dovey?

Ruggie’s eager to bask in the attention, doing a poor attempt to hide his grin as he leans dramatically against the table and rests his head on the palm of his free hand as he listens to you gush.

“Oh really~?”

“Mhm…” You make a confirming noise and tilt your head, peppering a quick few kisses above the neckline of his bandana and grinning against the skin when it pulls out the telltale snicker that you’re so fond of.

“Your laugh’s damn cute” the bold declaration it enough to make his tail wag, ears perking up as your attention momentarily shifts to give them a scritch with your fingertips.“ These too, ‘M such a lucky guy, aren’t I.”

Your tone suggests it’s not a question but a fact, and this time Ruggie’s chuckle is bordering on the verge of flustered as you don’t hesitate to cuddle up against the beastman. Man, he should be saying that; but trust his boyfriend to beat him to the punch acting so affectionate and loving - this is sure to be bad for his heart.

There’s a deliberate cough across from the pair of you, and just like that the moments over and Ruggie’s got the unpleasant reminder that there’s still others here; though present company doesn’t seem to deter you from continuing to hug him close, continuing with your onslaught of praise.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that some guy tried to poison him?”

Ruggie has to roll his eyes at such a stupid question watching Ace pressed back against the bench like he’s trying to make as much distance between himself and the scene as possible. He says that like there aren’t already people - Jack included - tracking your would be poisoner while they keep you safe and away from people. Sure, Ruggie’s loving the attention, but he’s not deluding himself of the fact that the smell of the potion practically smothers you in a sickly sweet scent, a stark reminder that you’re not entirely in your right mind right now. He’s more than happy to humor you with kisses and cuddles to your heart's content, but that’s as far as it’s going until you’re back to yourself - though the thinly veiled discomfort on Ace’s face is too funny to tell him that. He’s just lucky that he’s the one the potion made you obsessed with; if it’d been anyone else…

“It’s fiiine Ace,” you lift your head from Ruggie’s shoulder, dismissing your friend with a nonchalant shrug “Not like it worked - I’m feeling great actually~”

“What you’re ‘feeling’ is that potion making you a sappy mess; seriously I can see the hearts in your eyes from here-gross.” 

Ruggie doesn’t miss your scowl as you stick out a defiant tongue at the Heartslabyul student before stubbornly diving back into Ruggie’s hold, almost sending the two of you sliding right off of the bench if his hands hadn’t grabbed onto the table - and you - for support. 

“Don’t care. Not like it’s any secret I love my boyfriend sooo much; right, Rug?”

The smugness at your bold declaration wells up in his chest, and the grin he shoots Ace across the table is all teeth before his attention becomes quite literally pulled back towards the more important boy in the room. Those hands once playing with his neck and ears now bring themselves to cup his cheeks, and the Savanaclaw boy’s head is suddenly angled to look at you, taking your full face in and- wow; there really hearts dancing in your eyes. The pink settles like a haze in your pupils and your lashes flutter at the sudden exhale Ruggie lets out, really seeing them for the first time. He can’t bring himself to look away even if he wanted to, those thumbs against his cheeks rubbing soft circles in the way only you know makes him melt. Suddenly he’s feeling way too warm all over - the potion can’t be spread through contact, right? - and it only gets worse at the kiss you press to his jaw, clearly aiming higher if he hadn’t unconsciously jolted at the close contact.

Your pout borders on playfully honest and there’s barely the register of “Damn; missed.” you whine out under your breath before you’re leaning in again, body so close and so hot pressed up against his own as you somehow get so much closer-

“RIGHT I’M OUT-!”

The bench jostles so harshly that you actually do slip out of the seat this time, and thanks to the hands pressed against his head Ruggie’s got no choice but to be dragged right down alongside you. There’s a mess of limbs and Ruggie’s sure that it’s your knee digging into his stomach as his hands slam down onto the floor to save his skull from a potential concussion. 

Out of the corner of his eye Ruggie spots that familiar mop of bright red hair almost yank the door handle off of its hinges to get out of the room. And that grin of his almost breaks into a full on cackle watching Ace almost dive headfirst into the group who’d left earlier, a wave of confused faces peering into the classroom to see what all the fuss was about only to find you still cuddled up to your hyena of a boyfriend.

He sure hopes that you’ll remember all of this when the potion wears off; he’s got so much new ammunition to tease you with now it would be a shame for it to go to waste~!

[imunbreakabledude]

i don't like the thread of thinking around natural disasters that some people deserve more sympathy/empathy than others, or that some people deserve having to evacuate, or having their homes destroyed, more/less than others.

like, i am not saying this in a "please think of the rich people!" way. i'm not saying that everyone must distinctly express well-wishes for every category of people equally... it does feel absolutely normal and natural to me if people's care and donations and sympathy gravitate more towards groups who are hit hardest or might have the hardest time recovering or who might not have access to certain recovery resources, etc.

but when discussion goes to that place of justifying why certain groups of people do deserve sympathy... it unsettles me, and I think i've put my finger on why. let's say there's a discussion (which i've seen much of this week) that goes like this. Some people say those who lost their homes in fires in California aren't worth sympathy because they're all rich people who lost a 2nd or 3rd mansion that was built in a place that was fire prone and they probably voted for climate-damaging policies/politicians too so they deserve what they got. Then, other people push back with reminders that not everyone affected by these fires is rich, not everyone affected by these fires will recover easily, lots of working and middle class people have had their lives destroyed, many historically Black neighborhoods have been destroyed, etc etc and those people clearly deserve sympathy!

the clarification is good. it's important. 100%. but it still views these disasters through the lens that Some people DON'T deserve them, which implies that some people... Do deserve them? and again, my point here is not "we must specifically have more sympathy for rich people losing mansions". my point is that I really don't like the undercurrent of a lot of these discussions of who "doesn't deserve" this because I don't like the idea that anyone deserves it. Because if you view it that way even hypothetically, even as like "MOST people don't deserve this but Really Bad People do"... i mean, first off, who decides who does and doesn't deserve it? and second off, like, are you okay with the idea that you or your loved ones could be put in a category of People Who Deserve To Lose Their Homes in a Natural Disaster by someone else?

it feels kinda religious-based or culturally christian to me. it feels like it's still based in the idea that natural disasters are Acts of God sent to punish the people who deserve to be punished, and ohh maybe it's too bad if some good people get caught in the crossfire and we ought to help those people out with charity. i do not like that. these aren't divine punishments. I don't even accept the line of thinking "well if it happens to people who specifically have pushed forward climate change, it's just karma/punishment for that, they're experiencing the consequences of their own actions--" no. it's problems for all of us and we have to face it together instead of arguing about who deserves to suffer and who deserves to be spared. there is literally no possible timeline where we round up all the oil barons and corrupt politicians and push them to the areas most affected by the climate crisis while we protect the Innocent Good Majority of people from those effects. and thinking of it thru that lens is both a) unhelpful and b) a way of thinking that can soooo easily be warped to cheering on the pain and suffering of any groups of people you deem "bad" which can be warped over time.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

feel like trying my hand at writing msr again. send me some prompts if you feel so inclined!

[brains-out-rn]

I don't like debating much(unless necessary for the sake of my own humanity) but sometimes it can be really Really fun specifically if it's about something that has absolutely no real weight to it(and yet if you were a spectator it might cause some concern for whatever reason)

for example: would you rather be threatened(physically mentally or emotionally take your pick) by a can of corn or a cob of corn?

Me personally I'd pick cob for a few reasons

1. I can outlast it(probably)

Fresh corn will eventually rot and decay but have you seen how long canned stuff can last unopened before it looks slightly different from new stuff??

2. Cans are made of metal not vegetable flesh

While a corn cob has its core that's not metal. Ever dropped a can? Might get a dent. If you have a good kick then you might survive but you will probably hurt your foot. Ever dropped corn? If it had it outer leaves and hair it might have stood a chance but if it didn't then bits of corn go everywhere

3. Actually fighting if needed

I feel like I could survive a fight with a sentient can but a sentient cob just seems less likely to hurt

However there are some things might change my decision

Like issue one which is how the corn moves because if the cob is fresh with hair and leaves and can move all the little hairs individually and can move the leaves then I'd probably choose the can because at that point I feel like it's less of "how would i survive with the least amount of bruising" and more of "how would I rather die but with a chance of surviving" and in my opinion i think blunt force trauma would be better then a slow death of strangulation via a sentient corns hair plus I do think I'd have a chance against a can of corn

Another issue is if it was mentally or emotionally I'd probably go with the can bc I feel like it would be easier for to rationalize it as ridiculous to be threatened by a can of corn then a cob for some reason

Like a cob is ridiculous to the point that I'd just accept it as making sense for that to happen?

a can is like "why am I listening to the can of corn. I literally own a can opener." But a cob is more like "if I were to try and deal with you in the traditional way of dealing with corn that would mean a pot and water and time and-"

Plus idk why but I feel like a cob would be less mean with its words. I can't explain it I just think cob would just go straight to physical threats instead of emotional ones but a can would stare at you menacingly making you question yourself and just judging you

[negativepeanuthoarder]

Sorry but Bad getting (unintentionnaly) baby trapped by Skeppy after a ONS as a teenager and Bad refusing abortion because of *God* and bearing with Sapnap while he keeps denying Skeppy that the ONS was anything (Skeppy couldn't care less about the baby in the sense Bad is his first and utmost priority but he wants to go out with Bad) only for them to get together years down the line a la Christmas movie rediscovering your sweetheart left back in your hometown is peak 2020 skephalo core

see bc like. a running joke across the several smps Bad's been in is that Skeppy is an absent father so this checks out lmao

also I feel like Bad wouldn't deny an abortion bc of God I feel like he'd refuse because he wants a kid with skeppy but he's like 15 and his frontal lobe hasn't fully formed yet. regardless Sapnap is born

also. sapnap angst bc he was the oldest and the 'training kid' and so bad is a better parent to his younger siblings. send post :)