#anyway i still have no idea what im doing drawing their faces but i tried Something here

[cubezart]

TIL IT CEASES TO BEAT, PLEASE BE MINE !

[diddlesnap]

I think there were some serious growing pains when katniss and peeta were starting to "grow close" again.

[504py]

No Compromises

Yandere Canada/Reader – You reunite with an old college friend, though he's nothing like you remember.

⚠️ Yandere content, kidnapping, self-harm, stalking, possible emetophobia (descriptions of gagging and the feeling of illness), no use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader.

IM BACK YAWL 😭😭 just a bit of a filler post and another apology for being away for so long!!! i tried to get this out by halloween but i kept adding more shit LOL

while this is much more aligned with his 2p version, i had no idea if it counts as such since here i portray his 1p and 2p version as the same guy 😭😭 so that's up in the air!

also u may notice the lack of a [oneshot] tag... thats cuz i have a prequel wip for this, but figured i'll just finish and post it if the people desire it LMAO. pls lemme know if y'all do!! anyways so sorry again and i hope u enjoy!!! thanks so much to everyone for sticking around and enjoying what i do 🩵🩵🩵

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The light drag of a cigarette is the first thing you process when you finally come to your senses.

A man stands before you, singular lightbulb leering ominously above a head of overgrown blond hair, the bright light reflecting in his glasses making you unable to see much of his features. His tall, slender figure is highlighted by the stark overhead shadows that are being cast on his baggy clothing. He exhales, smoke billowing and resting heavily in the dusty, stale air.

"Hey." He says, the friendly, casual tone of his voice making you blink faster in the hopes of gaining more lucidity. His tongue pokes at his cheek as he drops the cigarette to the cemented floor and stomps on it. The gritty sound feels like boiling water in your audio-sensitive drugged up state.

"Are the ropes too tight?" He asks with a quirk of his head, you squint, thinking you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his face, but the dark shadows and your pupils trying desperately to adjust to the lighting in the dim room make the task much too difficult. You didn't even notice you were bound 'till you tugged your wrists at the mention of the word 'rope.'

The mystery man straightens his posture and takes a few steps closer to you. His sneakers are downtrodden. The lacing is asymmetrical, any recognizable color or branding rubbed off, and the hem of his loose jeans caked in what seems to be mud.

"Come on, you can speak, can't you? It's not like I taped up your mouth." The tone of voice he uses here is almost playful, yet too vague. You didn't know if it was condescending, comforting, or cheerful.

"I... I'm... Ropes are okay..." You respond mindlessly, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak. God, it feels like your head could loll off your neck at any moment.

"Poor thing. You sound parched– Tell ya what, I'll give you some water if you kiss me." Even if his face is still hazy, you can make out the glint of a smile. His canines are pointy.

He draws closer, and crouches in front of your seated figure. He's a lot taller than you thought, seeing him up close. You see the indent of a pointed dimple by the edge of his sharp lip corners when he turns his cheek to you. There's a few moles on his pale skin. He smells like tobacco, rust, and rainwater. Smells a bit like something syrupy and moldy, but maybe that's just the room.

You shudder away from his close proximity, and he laughs nervously.

"Aw, I thought that'd work." He chuckles, before facing you fully, still crouching.

You can finally see his face. What you thought were dark brown eyes turned out to be a dull shade of purple, just with his pupils as fully blown as they can go. The stare is creepy, but at least his droopy outer eye corners and straight blond eyelashes soften their impression. His nose is well-structured and pointy, reddish at the tip. His sharp lip corners seem to always point upwards, and were pink like they had just been kissed and bitten. If it weren't for this moment, you'd have thought he was an attractive man with a somewhat docile-looking face. His cheeks are flushed, he tilts his head in wonder, a few pieces of his hair falling over his face.

"Merde, you're really pretty up close. I can't believe you're in front of me right now. I missed you so, so much." He giggles, cold hand reaching out to carefully grasp your chin to try and steady your bobbing head.

He swoons, "So, so pretty." then presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The action makes him exhale a shuddered, moaning breath. Whatever is in your system prevents you from reacting too much besides a weak jerk of your body.

"I should get you out of this shitty room, but I wanted to be prepared in case you reacted more violently. I didn't wanna have to drag you around. Don't wanna rough my baby up." He says with a small smile, as if the thought secretly brings him some amusement. Maybe his otherwise comforting smile just comes off as sinister at a time like this.

"You're reacting so much better than I thought you would, though. You're being so, so good, you know?" He coos like you're a pet, taking his hand off your chin and his blunt fingernails gently scratching at the top of your scalp.

Your throat hurts. You swallow dryly. "Who are you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, and his smile drops slightly. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, cigarette-stained air blowing over your face.

He squints at you. "You really don't remember me?" He says quietly.

You shake your head. His light eyebrows knit in what looks like an expression of heartbreak.

He tries to jog your memory. "Come on, college sweethearts?"

"...I didn't date anyone in college."

His lips part in shock, the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

"It's Mattie. Come on now." He pleads, desperation dripping from every word. The higher, more pathetic register his voice shifts into begins to jog your memory.

The sound of that nickname makes your eyes widen and forces your shoulders to press against the back of the chair. His identity makes things a million times worse.

"...M-Matthew Williams? No, no, c'mon, we never dated. Don't be like this."

"We had something special, though. I missed you. You missed me too, didn't you? You even remembered my full name." Matthew's gentle voice raises, as if trying to convince you of his feelings, trying to justify this situation.

"Th-There must've been a better way to get in contact with me without tying me up."

He shakes his head, frown almost a pout. "I did try! But you'd always blow me off to hang out with your other friends, a-and– and I just couldn't watch when I found out you were starting to see someone else." Resting on his knees and looking up at you, he grasps your bound hands on your lap. The position reminds you of prayer. Worship.

"I love you. Always have. A-And I know I'm different from how I used to be, but maybe you'll like this newer version of me more. You did say you liked a more assertive partner, didn't you?" His head tilts while he nods, like he's trying to convince you of everything he's saying.

His crazed eyes quickly scan your expression for any validation. "Yeah, yeah... I-I was a doormat back then, so that's probably why you didn't return my feelings." He laughs bitterly, and the sight is almost irritatingly funny to you. He's comparing his former pitiful self to the way he is now, as if he had changed. "But I'm different now. I'm not a coward anymore. I'll take care of you, and I'll do it well, I promise. I'll make you so happy."

"Please, Mattie, j-just let me go, and I'll give you a chance–"

He gasps. "You used my nickname." A disgustingly lovestruck grin spreads on his pale freckled face. He presses your bound hands against his flat chest. His heart is beating wildly against his ribcage.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's all for you. It only beats for you. I promise I can make you feel the same way for me. Just let me."

"...Do I even have any other choice? You kidnapped me."

Matthew's smile falters, eyes drooping, and he looks just as pathetic as he did all those years ago. He frowns flimsily. "I-I'm sorry. But I'll be good to you. Really. I'll be so good for you."

You shut your eyes and lean your head back. Your whole body hurts. Weighing out your options, you make a decision. If this Matthew is just as pathetic as the one you remember, then maybe you have a chance to escape if you butter him up enough.

"Fine. Untie me first."

Matthew's eyes widen. "R-Really? If you fight back, though, I'll have to use force, so, please, just... Don't run."

"I get it."

Eagerly, he brings out a knife and cuts through the rope. He rubs and massages your wrists for you when you're freed from your restraints. Dusts your clothes off for you, too. Though, you're wondering if what you think is a needlessly thoughtful action is just an excuse for him to feel you up.

"Let's get out of this basement, yeah? It's much better upstairs. Promise." He says, gently holding onto your hand. His are covered in bruises and small wounds. Butterflies are taking flight like fighter jets in his stomach.

When you stand up, Matthew pauses for a bit, violet eyes raking over your figure.

"Sorry, I just–" He starts, before cutting himself off by quickly stepping closer to you and encasing your body in a hug. He trembles and lets out a shaky breath, tightening his hold.

"I missed you so much," His voice cracks, "So happy you're here. Really. I feel like I'm on top of the world having you all to myself. You're all mine, finally."

Matthew takes in a sharp, obstructed breath. "Ugh, I–" He pulls away and his voice sounds all wet. He's crying. If you weren't so woozy, you would have scolded him when he wipes his face with his dirty jacket sleeve. Even now, you care about him, and maybe that's why he's fallen so helplessly in love with you.

He feels like he's shriveling into himself when all he does is simply breathe and what comes out is a sniffle. It's shameful, to boast about being a changed, stronger man, only to fall apart with a hug.

Wordlessly, he gulps his insecurities down his scratchy throat and grabs your wrist, taking you up the dusty wooden steps and leaving the basement. He does this with such little care it surprises you a little. It forces you to come to your senses in order to not stumble over your own heavy feet.

The actual interior of the house is much less industrial-looking than what you'd assumed from the basement. Rustic is the first word to pop into your mind to describe this place. Cottagecore, like the trendy people say, but... with a whole lot less of that trendy factor. It definitely is comfortable, which is a relief considering the storm outside.

Oh.

Looking out the window makes you realize something dreadful. You were never scared of the dark, pitch-darkness, even, but the vantablack surroundings beyond the glass begins to shroud you in a shadow of realization; there is a total absence of light. There are no lights, there are no houses nearby, there is nothing. You were in the middle of nowhere. You glance down to Matthew's battered sneakers and mud-caked jeans, and wonder how much trouble they went through to get you here.

He senses your staring, and looks to you, following your gaze and flushing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is no outfit for a reunion as important as this." He laughs sheepishly, weakly. He had managed to swallow his tears, with the only evidence left behind being his reddish waterline and nostrils.

"I'll, uh, I'll go change– Just sit down anywhere you'd like. Those drugs will take a bit to leave your system. I'll fix you something up to wash it down as soon as I'm back, sweetie." Matthew stays for a moment, gnawing on his lip like he's weighing something out in his mind, before deciding to just go for it. He leans in to quickly place a kiss to your temple, and despite his attempt at nonchalance, he lets out a thin, shaky breath, before scampering off into what you assume is his bedroom.

Still nauseated, you hobble over to the couch and collapse onto it with more grace than you expected. You spare only a few seconds before forcing yourself back up, making the most of your time alone to examine the area without the pressure of Matthew watching you.

You scan the room quickly, making note of any possible exits. There are only two in this living room. The window, and the lone door against the other side of the room. Nearing and examining the window, you quickly find that it has a keyed lock, and rush over to the door.

Keyed, padlocked, deadbolted. God, he really went through the trouble of installing multiple of these. You could only imagine what his keyring looked like. You wonder if you could nab it.

A long-fingered hand clamps over your shoulder, digging into your collarbones and pulling you back. It's over so quickly you don't even have time to complain and yell about the pain.

"What do you wanna eat?" Matthew asks sweetly. His voice, though recognizable, is different from the way you remember it. His signature softspoken-ness is still there, but it's hoarse, slightly deeper. Maybe it's because he started smoking, but no cigarette can be owed the credit of the subtle confidence in his tone– Maybe not confidence, but some sort of certainty.

Your irises tremble slightly at the startle as you return his stare, before gulping and answering. "...Anything's fine."

"Pancakes it is." He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. As he walks to the quaint kitchen, he pulls a black hair tie off of his bony wrist and begins tidying his wavy, honey blond locks into a low ponytail. His hair's grown so much since you last saw him, and you can't help but think it suits him well.

It's not just his hair, the rest of him has grown, too. Matthew's gained a few inches of height, though he looks slimmer than before. You're unsure if he lost weight, or if his height just makes him look thinner than he actually is. He's aware of it, that he looks slightly worse for wear, but he couldn't help but lose his appetite being away from you for so long. He'll gain it back eventually to look good for you. I have to, he tells himself.

Now that he's rid of his jacket and clad in just a loose, plain graphic shirt, you get a better look of the wounds on his arms. It's mostly around his knuckles and palms, maybe he's clumsy, maybe he does a lot of physical labor, those are strangers to you, but you're familiar with the thin scars on the inside of his wrists. They're faded and old now, thank god, but you remember the long teary nights in college you'd spend trying to convince him not to hurt himself just because you couldn't spend time with him that week. You made him promise he wouldn't do it anymore, and judging by the lack of fresh wounds, he's kept his word. Though those memories make your head throb, you feel slightly proud.

You wobble over to the couch, deciding to take a seat to try and soothe the nausea bubbling about inside you. You remember those red plaid pajamas he's wearing, too. Always wore them whenever you came over. You wince as another wave of pain ripples through your skull, and you wonder if he's purposefully dressed himself like that to remind him of his most favorite time in his life, one that he thought was yours too.

That smell of butter, vanilla, and syrup doesn't help. While your stomach does respond to the smell, you can't help but think of Matthew first before the food. He always smelled faintly of maple syrup, along with hints of lavender and men's shower gel. His old apartment reeked of it. You never thought such an innocuous scent could bring you so much irritation.

Matthew glances behind him, finding your zoned out, furrow-browed stare.

"Your head hurting real bad?" He calls out from behind his back, focusing on the current stack of pancakes he was building by the stove.

"Yeah," You say under your breath. You're not sure why you even bothered responding if you knew you were gonna answer so silently. A part of you felt it rude had you just been unresponsive, but good god, forget the formalities, he'd kidnapped you!

After a few more moments of head-clutching silence, Matthew arrives, sitting on the couch and placing a plate of pancakes on the wooden coffee table in front of you.

"Come on now, you should eat. You've been knocked out for a while, you're about to miss lunch and dinner." He says lightly, a faint sternness in his voice, like he were speaking to a child. You scoff feebly.

"Nah, I... I don't really feel like eating." Despite the apparent hunger pangs in your stomach, you feel terribly sick in the throat, like you were constantly on the verge of retching. As much as you wanted to down the food he's prepared for you, just the thought of eating makes you gag.

He lets out a small laugh. "Want me to feed you?" Scooting closer, he leans down and tilts his head to get a better look at your pallid, gloomy face, heavy with queasiness. You're still so beautiful, he thinks.

You shake your head adamantly at that, immediately regretting it at the dull pain that amounts from the action. "No, no, I'm alright, Mattie," You bite your tongue when you realize you've called him by that stupid nickname again. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

He can't help the cheesy expression on his face and the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "It'll get worse if you don't eat." He pouts. "Come on, at least five bites." He picks up a fork, already slicing a small bit for you, and holding it up to your mouth.

You look at it with a small frown and wince in your expression, and his eyes darken.

"I'll tell you where one of the keys are if you eat."

Those words grab your attention immediately, and haplessly, you take a bite of the pancake he offers you. Matthew lets out an airy giggle.

"I remember you used to complain so much about this. Whenever I tried to feed you." He says with a pointy, wistful smile. "You've changed a lot over the years. Still so in love with you, though." His gaze is heartbreakingly warm.

You look at him, heart stopping in your chest for a moment at how sincerely he's looking at you. His heart does the same, but just at the mere action of you meeting his eyes, acknowledging his existence.

"You too." You say simply, despite your thoughts being so much more than those two words imply. When his cheeks redden and his lips gape, you quickly correct yourself. "Uh, that you've changed. Not that I love you." He huffs a dry chuckle.

"Figured, but I wanted to believe it." Matthew cuts up another piece of the pancake and offers it to you. You bite, and his blush only darkens. While you're chewing, he speaks again.

"You're not wearing that bracelet I made you anymore." He makes a sad face.

You swallow, "It's in my apartment. Felt too bad to throw it away." The light returns to his lavender eyes and he grins warmingly at you.

The bracelet is simple, a thin twist bracelet made with red thread, all entwined together with love. Matthew gave it to you during a morning class, blushing and stuttering. He made one for himself, too, like the red string of fate, he giggled when he said this, lovingly looking at the matching bracelets around your wrists. Now that your vision was less foggy, you can now see that what you thought was a wound was actually that same bracelet around his wrist. The color has faded slightly, more dull with dirt and age, while yours is still as vibrant as the day he gave it to you. It's a shame he didn't nab it when abducting you.

"You still care about me." He grins, almond eyes sparkling with mirth.

"To my own detriment." You smile emptily at him, taking the fork from his grasp and quickly eating the rest of what you owe him.

"The key?" You remind him, and he seems like a lost puppy for a moment, before it hits him, his pointy-fanged grin widening. He chuffs bashfully, as if a secret of his had been revealed, before he answers, awfully joyous; "Oh, I was lying." He laughs almost childishly.

A feeling of cold dread and shame drips from your head and down your shoulders. Of course, why did you assume so easily that he'd just hand that to you on a silver platter? At the same time, of course you would, he's Matthew Williams, the same man who gave you his coat and paid your bus fare the first time you two met. He insisted you kept it, said it suited you better and he's got hundreds more like it anyways. You did, you kept using it over the years even when you graduated. You used it this morning, maybe that's why it was so easy for him to recognize you. Your gullibility strikes you with chagrin and you can only retaliate by pushing back.

"What? We made a deal. Why would you lie to me?"

Matthew's usually docile expression falls, and suddenly you feel like you genuinely have no idea who this man is anymore, and you regret thinking that you could just walk all over him and out that door like you did all those years ago.

"Do you think you have any control over this situation, sweetie?" He crawls closer, palms dipping the couch cushions. "Did you really think I'd guard you so loosely? After all these years?" The collar of his shirt hangs from his neck as he leans down, collarbones prominent. "Did you think I'd let you leave me again? Stupid." He spits, though it seems like the final insult was more directed towards himself than you.

You scoot back until your back hits the armrest, and before you can try and slide off the couch, a lithe arm cages you in.

"It tore me up, ripped me to shreds and I came back a different person, but the only thing that stayed, that didn't change, was my love for you– No, my love for you is what broke me in the first place. Please, god, just soothe me a little." Matthew's voice crescendos until it cracks, hysterical expression making you relive the hell that was your college days together.

"Just love me a little." He whimpers weakly, before pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, moaning in surprise as if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. It's short, brief, like it zaps him, too much for his poor racing heart to handle. The bright smile returns to his face when he pulls away, breathless. It stays despite the horrified look on your face.

"Why are you so disgusted? You already tasted plenty of me in those pancakes. You looked so cute eating up my spit." He teases, his glee evident in his voice, the loose strands of his hair tickling your face. The realization of what you had just consumed, what now sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, was something of his, makes you dizzy with abhorrence. You try to push him off, but he slams your shoulder back into the cushions, hands vice-like and heavy against your skin.

Matthew is panting, and when he catches his breath, his eyes widen and his irises shake. You can see his pupils contract and dilate. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry– Didn't mean to– Ah, merde." He whimpers, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. He's already reduced to a groveling mess, and you've barely said anything. "Please love me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you!" He cries, and you hate that you really do feel sorry for him.

You hate him, hate the shit he keeps putting you through, hate how soft his voice is, hate how pathetic he is, hate how reliant he is on you, hate seeing his tears. You hate how he still manages to pull pity from you despite everything he's put you through.

With a shriek through gritted teeth, you fist his shirt and yank him down, this kiss is intended, and definitely felt like, more akin to an act of harm over love, but poor Matthew can't tell the difference.

He melts into it with a loving sigh despite his bleeding lips.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[ohmtoff]

Creep

Nick Sturniolo x OC smut

Summary: Nick tried to take a picture of a hot stranger in the grocery store, but when his flash went off, Ethan, the hot man in question, used Nick’s clumsiness for his own advantage

Contains: Anal sex, bottom!nick, top!oc, oral sex, spanking (very minor, not explicit), unsafe sex, barebacking, unconsensual photo taking, fingering, rimming, hair pulling, light dom/sub, dirty talk, slight crying during sex, overstimulation

Word count: 5,078 words

Disclaimers: minors dni. will contain grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language. this is FICTION, always use protection during sex, never take a pic of a stranger without their consent.

a/n: this was partly made bc i cant get over the idea of larray tara and nick as a trio like IM GNA LOSE IT. the tiktok talked about was (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSF8YxXn6/) its so funny i need to include it.

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Nick laughs, reading Larray’s last message about a tiktok he found of a guy pretending to be called gay in middle school and his friend defending him, both of them relating to that video strongly.

He tries to reign in his grin, as he’s on a supermarket trying to buy groceries, and laughing to yourself is just plain weird, so he forces himself to press his lips together as Larray and Tara sent jokes that make his belly hurt. He briefly takes his eyes off the string of messages, hearing a loud cough, and clocks grey sweatpants on strong thighs. He’s interested, immediately, checking out the rest of the tall boy who is standing next to him by the snack aisle, holding onto his cart. A black short sleeved compression shirt defining his strong chest and bicep, complimenting bouncy and slightly curly brown hair, a face adorning deep brown eyes that could pass for both handsome or pretty, and veiny hands that make Nick’s mind wander. He texts the group.

jacob elordi brainrot

Nick: hottest. guy. ever. in the grocery store

Larray: ???? not possible, I’m at home 

Tara: ew

Larray: rude

Tara: anyways

Tara: PHOTO

Larray: how hot?

Nick: grey sweats and compression shirt hot

Larray: PHOTO

Tara: PHOTO

Nick: I can’t take a pic guys that’s creepy

Larray: PHOTO

Tara: PHOTO

Nick: No

Tara: come oooonnnn PHOTO

Nick: ugh fine

It didn’t take much for them to convince Nick because he knows he actually really wants to take a picture of the hottie to his right, for scientific purposes of course. Nick makes sure his phone is on silent before he angles it, tipping it back a little as he hopes he captures most of the guy. He tries to look at others on the store, rather than focus on what he’s doing, thumb moving around where he thinks the snapshot button is until – flash – the bright white light of his camera lights up the entire back case of his phone. 

Nick feels his heart catch in the back of his throat, and he’s slow in moving his hand, the immediate humiliation making him freeze. He can’t help but look at the stranger, and he sees how he takes in Nick’s obvious creeper shot, Nick feeling the anxiety coarse through him at lightning speed.

He’s fearful as the stranger frowns, stepping over to him, and Nick slightly backs up immediately.

“I’m - ”

“Did you just take a photo of me?” the stranger asks, and Nick thinks his face may melt, the shame of his actions making him lie, shaking his head silently.

“You didn’t?” the stranger asks, even more handsome, prettier, up close, but he’s clearly unimpressed by Nick’s rudeness, and Nick is panicking, brain drawing blanks.

“I…” Nick gapes, looking for the words, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” the stranger demands forcefully, grabbing Nick’s phone, Nick gasping at that, but too embarrassed to fight it. The boy doesn’t look through Nick’s phone, just holds it and stares at Nick accusingly, Nick having to shrug, truly embarrassed and he feels pairs of eyes on his back judging him. 

“Come with me,” the stranger demands, still holding Nick’s phone, making his way to ut of the store, both of their carts abandoned. Nick doesn’t have much of a choice if he values his phone, and he follows, ashamed.

“I am sorry,” he pants, keeping up with the other boy’s pace, “can I have it back?”

The stranger slows down slightly, starting to look through the phone. Nick realises with horror that his phone isn’t locked, as he kept the camera open, and he reaches to grab his phone back, but the stranger is tall, holding it higher as he clicks on the incoming messages.

Larray: PHOTO!!! What’s with the silence girl? You better be sucking his dick!

Tara: PHOTO

The stranger scrolls up, Nick groaning in embarrassment, watching him read Nick’s earlier messages about how hot he is.

“Seriously creepy,” he shakes his head, deep voice just making it even worse as Nick cringes, “you’re perving on me in the store and taking my photo without my consent?”

“I’m genuinely sorry,” Nick said, his voice tinged with guilt, “I’ll delete it immediately and leave.”

The boy is doing something on his phone and Nick attempts to grab it back, but still, he’s too slow, still not tall enough.

“Ah ah,” the stranger tuts, “don’t worry. I was just sending your friends the creepy photo.” Nick starts to feel a little sick with anxiety, just wanting this to be over. He is never, ever listening to both his friends again. He’s frustrated and desperate, and in a fit of anger, he flounces off, “keep the fucking phone,” he rages, regretting it instantly, but he has no choice but to continue walking, leaving his very badly needed phone in the hands of another man. You idiot, you’re a public figure, what if he does something to your socials, he screams internally

“Hey!” Nick hears, “come back here.” He stops, and looks at the stranger with anxiety, his face hot from the embarrassment as he awkwardly walks back. Nick is confident that now his phone will be given back to him and he is secretly relieved, knowing he can’t afford to walk away and leave his public image in the hands of a stranger. He isn’t sure how he’d explain that to his brothers.

“You could make it up to me,” the boy suggests, and Nick looks at him properly, the smirk on his mouth and the way his eyes move, seemingly resting on Nick’s crotch.

“W – what?” Nick stammers, blushing, and the guy shrugs.

“You think I’m hot,” he states, “I think you’re hot, too.”

Nick chuckles nervously, unsure, a little scared this is some bizarre prank, but the boy is so sincere, nothing about him suggesting this is a joke. Nick has seen the look he has in his eyes in many boys and men, who Nick has flirted with and fucked before, but this is the first time Nick’s ever felt so drawn to another.

“I live near here,” the boy gestures, “I can think of a few things you can do for me to make up for your lack of manners.”

Nick wants to tell him to fuck off, wipe the slightly arrogant smirk off his face, but the confident way the guy stands, waiting on Nick’s response, his certainty, is making Nick’s dick twitch in interest, in want.

“Whatever,” the man smiles, casually slipping the phone back into Nick’s pocket before shrugging again, sauntering off, leaving Nick stood in the middle of the parking lot, torn between walking away – and he knows, he knows, kicking himself for it – or running after this guy desperately, letting him know how badly he wants him to make good on his promises.

He’s about to disappear when Nick makes a snap decision and runs after him, panting as he catches up, the boy turning to look at him from his car as he hears footsteps, bursting out in a laughter, his grin taking up his entire face. Nick readjusts his sweater.

“I’m horny, don’t – don’t get cocky,” he mutters, but the other boy doesn’t say a word, just makes Nick feel dizzy with a long look as he opens the passenger seat of his car and motion for Nick to get inside. 

“Nick, right?” he asks, as he hops in and shut the door of the drivers seat, and Nick nods, assuming he saw his name on the messages, “I’m Ethan.”

Nick was going to respond but his eyes catches the way Ethan’s seatbelt tightens on his pecs and Nick almost drooled. His eyes traveled upward to see this adonis-like man smirking and Nick swiftly turned his head towards the road. The drive to the apartment was short and thankfully not awkward due to the music playing, but Nick was still sweating even with the air conditioner on because oh my god he’s so fucking hot, is that his huge dick print on his sweatpants? Fuck, his veins are so visible why are his fingers so LONG? that shit can reach my tonsi-

His thoughts were interrupted by the car finally parked at the other man’s house. Both of them walked towards the door with haste and no words exchanged, eyes focused on going inside.

Ethan unlocked the door and let Nick in, the latter unable to get a word out before Ethan’s mouth flew towards his, and he’s harsh and fast and demanding, so Nick matches it, kissing Ethan like he needs it, and maybe he does. Ethan is shoving him into what Nick assumes is his bedroom, pulling off Nick’s sweater, as Nick yanks that heavenly tight shirt, until they meet Ethan’s bed and Ethan throws him down on it. He watches, heart racing, as Ethan pulls down his jeans, pulling at them forcefully, yanking them off as Nick helps him, pulling him back down for a kiss. Nick’s never known someone kiss this way; unyielding and demanding as he grabs Nick’s head and devours him, Nick pulling back at Ethan’s tangled hair, until Ethan grabs him wrists and pins them down.

Nick can’t help but moan, his dick hard in his briefs, because Ethan is pressing all his buttons right now. He hates the self-satisfied grin on Ethan’s smug, pretty face, but there’s no denying Nick loves it rough, which Ethan clearly does too.

“Like that, sweetheart?” Ethan asks, tongue running over his bottom lip, Nick watching it’s every moment, groaning in response, Ethan’s large hands still wrapped around delicate wrists, still pinning Nick down. Nick is fully hard and needy now, Ethan letting go of his wrists to grip each side of his face and bruise him with a kiss, Nick making the most of his new found freedom by gripping Ethan’s shoulders, nails digging in.

He’s a mess already, the curly haired man moving harsh kisses to his neck and chest as he moves down, the kisses becoming wetter, sloppier, Nick whimpering as Ethan ghosts over his clothed dick, mouthing at him teasingly.

“Please,” Nick whispers, but Ethan either doesn’t hear or ignores it, pressing feather light kisses across him, Nick beginning to peel his briefs off only to have his hands batted away.

“Do that again and I’ll tie you up,” Ethan warns, and Nick’s cock jumps at the tone in his voice, obeying, hands grabbing fistfuls of Ethan’s duvet instead to stop them from straying. Ethan stops, pushing Nick encouraging so his head is propped up, and he has little choice except to look at Ethan as he mercifully begins to strip him off his briefs. Nick’s toes curl as they’re discarded and Ethan is back between his legs, Nick waiting for the inevitable lick, looking down at Ethan as he’s forced to wait.

“What?” he asks, knowing his face is pink and he’s far gone, Ethan looking at him with playful eyes as he spreads Nick’s legs even further apart, leaning down, finally, Nick thinks, to touch his dick, but Ethan presses wet kisses and soft bites to the inside of Nick’s right thigh, moving up as he gets closer to Nick’s dick, nudging his balls with his nose and Nick is going to pass out from the feel of Ethan’s skin right there, from feeling his tongue and his little huffs of breath, whimpering embarrassingly loud as Ethan finally licks a long stripe up his dick to the tip, suckling the pre-cum collected there before he stops.

“Ethan,” Nick begs, and Ethan does the same to his left, Nick sure he’s intent on leaving bite marks on his fleshy thighs where there’s plenty for Ethan to sink his teeth into, Nick wondering if it’s possible to come from this. He’s obeying Ethan’s no touching rule, for now, and it is torture, before Ethan repeats this special form of hell – licking from Nick’s balls up to the tip of his cock, in one long, slow lick – flicking his tongue over the head, and pulling away. “This – I can’t do this,” Nick moans, “please just, give me…”

Ethan shakes his head, and Nick falls quiet, until he feels the blessed tight heat of Ethan’s mouth around his cock, Ethan sucking his dick perfectly, swirling his tongue around the head as he comes up, Nick crying out, trying his best to hold off, to wait.

“Ethan, I’m – I - ” he whines, Ethan stopping, quick and elegant as he leans up and kisses Nick’s mouth, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“Let me,” Nick gasps, trying to push Ethan down, “I want to do it to you.”

He does, too, because Ethan’s sweatpants are still on and he needs them off, wants to see Ethan’s dick and taste it in his mouth. Nick loves sucking cock, loves the feel of it in his mouth and the taste of come, and he’s good at it, wants to make Ethan whimper in the way Ethan’s made him shake.

“Yeah? You like sucking dick?” Ethan asks, unyielding, sadly, still looming over Nick and Nick gives up on trying to change their positions, not exactly hating this one, Ethan grabbing his bitten thighs as he attacks Nick’s mouth and neck with his soft lips.

“Yeah,” Nick grins, “of course.”

“Why should I let you suck me off?” Ethan asks, letting Nick’s thighs drop as he keeps Nick pinned down, kissing parts of Nick’s face that Nick doesn’t think anyone has ever kissed, always coming back to his mouth, his neck, moving to his collarbone, shoulder, biting. Nick is going to look like he’s been in a fight. Matt and Chris will have a field day when he finally turns up at home.

“Um, because – I’m great?” Nick asks, frowning, wondering what kind of weirdo turns down a blowjob, and Ethan stops so he can look at Nick, Nick continuing to be bowled over by the way Ethan’s eyes seem to burn into his skin.

“What makes you so great, pretty boy?” Ethan rasps, and Nick brings his nails down Ethan’s back.

“I look good with a cock in my mouth,” Nick teases, “and, after all, you did say I need to make it up to you.”

“You need to, don’t you?” Ethan grins, then moving so that he straddles Nick’s waist, Nick helping him pull down his sweats, Ethan standing briefly to get the fabric off his feet and boxers off before he’s shuffling up, Nick still propped up nicely by the large pillows. Nick attempts to not given Ethan the satisfaction of his astonishment at how large Ethan’s dick is, but he fails.              

“Still feeling confident, baby?” Ethan asks, hand wrapping around his cock as he plays with himself, jerking off, and Nick can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation, nodding, while he’s nervous he’s excited, knowing Ethan’s dick is going to fill him up properly, that he’ll feel the thick head knock at the back of his throat and makes his eyes water. He’s hungry for it. Ethan moves closer, knees over Nick’s shoulder as his big hand plants against the wall and his other hand hangs onto his headboard. Nick opens his mouth, ready for it, desperate for it, but he’s patient, waiting for Ethan’s say so, and Ethan makes slow, deliberate movements, wiping the leaking tip of his cock on Nick’s mouth and his cupid’s bow.

“Good boy for waiting,” Ethan praises, and Nick’s dick jumps, “you can suck it now, baby.”

Nick takes as much as he can, which is over half, but not all of it, and sucks in a hollow motion, moving back up before he forces himself to take every inch, down to Ethan’s balls, and pulls back, spluttering.

“Hey,” Ethan says, taking Nick by the chin, “take it easy, baby, don’t choke.”

“M’sorry,” Nick whispers, embarrassed, wanting to be good, to hear Ethan’s praises once more, and he’s easier with it this time, taking Ethan into his mouth and sucking him properly, rather than racing to get the entire dick inside him, and he can enjoy this, sucking Ethan at a nice, fast pace, but not too fast, getting off to the weight of Ethan’s dick and the smell of him, Ethan silent but present, running his thumbs over Nick’s cheekbones as Nick sucks his dick, happy and contented.

He mewls in protest when Ethan grabs his hair and pulls him off, trying to follow Ethan’s dick, not ready to stop, but Ethan isn’t interested, easily flipping Nick over so he’s face down on the bed. Nick waits as the pillows are wrenched from him, Ethan lifting him like a ragdoll as he puts them under Nick’s hips, Nick’s ass higher than before. Nick’s feels like he’s on fire, his skin aflame, pale but also pink with the heat, and he braces himself for Ethan’s fingers, surprised when Ethan covers him with his own body, kissing his neck.

“You’re so hot,” Ethan growls, mouth on Nick’s jaw, and Nick is sure Ethan is trying to actually eat him, “as soon as I saw you get on that aisle, the first thing I thought was, I want to fuck that boy,” Ethan smiles, Nick moaning as Ethan continues licking him, “saw your ass and thought, I bet he loves riding dick.”

Nick all but whimpers, pushing back, needy, and Ethan shows compassion, bringing his hand past Nick’s waist to curve over Nick’s ass, gripping at his hip.

“Do you? Love riding cock?” Ethan pants.

“Yeah,” Nick says, pushing his ass back to feel Ethan’s dick against it, “want me to ride you?”

“Patience, baby,” Ethan demands, pulling Nick over to kiss him, Nick moving with Ethan, not expecting the disappointed moan when Ethan leaves him, moving down and spreading Nick’s legs further apart. Nick keeps his hands up, mouth open and wet on his left hand, gripping the duvet with his other hand, and he trembles as Ethan spreads his ass open, crying out as he feels Ethan’s thumb tease over his rim, pressing down and ever so slightly inwards, teasing, always.

“I’m not a virgin,” Nick says throatily, hoping Ethan will speed up at that, the way he’s playing with Nick’s ass slow and gentle but mind melting at the same time, and Ethan just laughs at that, slapping Nick’s ass playfully with his other hand.

“I didn’t think you were,” Ethan says, voice loud in the silence of the apartment, “I still wanna take my sweet time.”

Nick whines as Ethan continues to give him something but not everything, loud as Ethan slips and pushes a finger inside of him, Nick stretching his legs, his toes, in a heavenly trance as the man explores him. He feels Ethan move, and then hears the squirt of lube, feels another finger join the first, and he gasps as Ethan scissors them, pulling them to the rim, almost fully out, as his thumb makes the gentlest of scrapes on his perineum, to his balls. Nick moans out on his hand, practically drooling.

He panics as he feels Ethan’s fingers disappear, not wanting this to be over, throwing his head back as he searches for an answer.

“Turn back around, baby,” Ethan insists, not looking at Nick, transfixed on his ass. He immediately obliges, feeling his brain mush and fill with Ethan Ethan Ethan. He feels like it’s been hours but he knows that’s untrue, and he’s ready to beg for it, for Ethan to open him again and slide his big cock inside him, but he doesn’t have to say anything as Ethan spreads him before dipping down. Nick all but screams as Ethan’s tongue licks across the rim of his hole, wet and rough. Nick instinctively tries to move forward, but he can’t; he’s facedown and Ethan’s hands are alternate from his hips to his asscheeks, spreading them again, as he eats Nick out. The rough texture of Ethan’s tongue, the way he presses his big, puffy lips on Nick’s rim is almost enough to make Nick sob. He’s holding it together, just thrusting as much as he can with the pillows underneath him and when he moves his forehead, he notices how sweaty he is, the back of his hands shining.

He yelps as Ethan pushes his tongue inside his hole and brings his hand up to the base of Nick’s spine, pressing his thumb inside of Nick to keep him slightly open. Nick is lost, utterly ruined, shook by how this stranger knows his body better than he does, whining as Ethan keeps his face buried in his ass; not for one-minute hesitating or slowing down as he eats Nick out as passionately as he kisses his mouth.

“I’m – Ethan - ,” he begs, knowing he’s a few well timed thrusts from Ethan’s tongue and fingers away from coming on the pillows beneath him, Ethan pulling his fingers out with a clear, wet pop, removing his tongue too, not before he sinks his teeth into one of Nick’s asscheeks. Nick is wrecked, his body tingling, his thighs burning from Ethan’s sharp teeth, a wetness between his legs like he’s never felt and an ache in his balls that is begging for release.

“You’re perfect,” Ethan assures him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Nick looking at him longingly over his shoulder, “what do you want, baby?”

“You,” Nick moans, pushing himself back, wanting Ethan’s cock in him, “please, Ethan.”

“Mmm,” Ethan muses, and Nick is pleased to see he’s also hot, pink, sweat linging on his forehead from exertion, Nick yelping as Ethan brings his hand down on Nick’s ass, playful but enough to tan it, “turn around.”

Nick does, fairly weak now and desperate, beyond desperate, for his orgasm to tear through him and leave him blind and gasping. Ethan throws away the pillows carelessly, grabbing Nick’s hips and bringing him down, as he lubes up his dick and presses the head against Nick’s hole. Nick nods, and Ethan begins to push, Nick inhaling, mouth open, as he feels the familiar burn of a nice, thick cock pressing inside of him. Ethan is slow but intense, forcing Nick’s thighs up as he makes his way in, Nick groaning, a little high pitched towards the end when he feels Ethan is fully in. He lets one of Nick’s legs drop, apparently unable to leave Nick’s face or hair alone, before he begins to fuck Nick, gently at first.

“You naughty boy,” Ethan whispers, “is this what you wanted, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nick begs, voice broken, “god, please, give it to me.”

Ethan doesn’t waste time. Nick lets go of any dignity he was hoping to keep, moaning and whimpering with every single thrust Ethan makes. Ethan takes Nick like Nick belongs to him, like this is his right, to spread Nick wide and to fuck him, hips snapping into hips as Ethan clings to him tightly, Nick feeling Ethan’s dick so deep inside him, touching places he’s never felt anyone touch, his vision clouding over.

“Ethan,” Nick sobs, overwhelmed, Ethan slowing down, holding Nick open by his thighs as he pulls his cock out, Nick horrified.

“Ethan! Please! No! I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m ok, please give it to me,” Nick begs, now losing his self-respect along with his long-gone dignity, feeling on the edge of tears. Ethan can’t leave him like this, can’t bring him to the brink of such pleasure to stop, it’s too cruel, Ethan once again flipping him over so now Nick is on his stomach. He cries out as Ethan slides straight back in, pulling Nick so Nick is on his knees, his upper body stretched out, Ethan’s big hands on both hips, slamming into him, the wet sound of slapping skin obscene alongside Nick’s enthusiastic cries and Ethan’s panting.

Nick is dripping with sweat, sliding off his own arms every time he tries to rest his head, yelping as Ethan yanks him up by his hair.

“Yeah? This what you need, Nick?” he asks, grunting, and Nick moans his agreement, unable to do much else. The forced stretch of his neck is delicious, Ethan not letting his pace drop for a moment, setting a punishing and perfect speed, Nick’s leaking cock a mess as he feels his balls tighten, knowing he’s finally, finally going to lose control and feel that blissful high.

“Want you to come like this,” Ethan says, slapping his ass again, “want you to come from getting fucked.” Nick can’t say anything, can’t even nod, because Ethan’s still pulling his hair as he slams in, quickening his almost reckless pace, Nick only concentrating on that one thing, that one feeling. Ethan is hitting his spot, perfect and fast and desperate and with one last yank of Nick’s hair, he is coming, begging and groaning, babbling a mixture of Ethan and God, blacking out as he does. 

He’s beyond over-stimulated, debauched and destroyed as Ethan follows him, letting go of Nick’s hair to cling onto his hips and fuck him with a few last, sprinting thrusts, Nick gasping as he feels Ethan fill him with come, warm and thick, Ethan crying out loudly as well, collapsing on top of Nick.

“Fuck,” Ethan groans into Nick’s hair, “holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, still too weak to open his eyes or speak.

Ethan kisses the back of his neck before he pulls out his dick, Nick cringing as he hears the wet sounds, feeling Ethan fall out of him, and he’s mildly disgusted when Ethan rocks back onto his knees, opening Nick’s ass again, looking down at his wet, come filled ass.

“Ethan,” Nick accuses, feeling his face heat up Ethan further, Ethan just smirking, proud of the mess he’s created, Nick sore and sensitive as Ethan plays with him a little, whimpering as he feels some come drip out. Ethan laughs at Nick's embarrassment, leaning over and scrambling around some bedside drawers. Nick gasps as he feels coolness on his ass, Ethan clearly wiping him clean.

Ethan flips back down next to Nick, Nick still curled into the pillow, not shy but very aware of his sweaty, exhausted, fucked-out look. Ethan runs his fingers through red hair, not tugging this time, and he leans in, kissing Nick in a way that betrays his previous rough and ready treatment. Nick responds softly, kissing back.

“You ruined me,” Nick gasps, still numb, and Ethan stifles a giggle, “you ruined me,” he retorts. They lie like this for a few precious minutes, Ethan still excited as he sits up, ruffling his hair before he fishes around for something, Nick half watching out of the corner of his eye when he sees Ethan hold out Nick’s phone like he’s won a prize.

“Unlock it,” Ethan says, handing it to Nick, who does it without question. Ethan scrolls, finding the groupchat

The chat after Ethan sent a photo of himself went into a frenzy, a long conversation between his two friends going about how hot he is.

Ethan giggles at it, and Nick thinks he’s quite beautiful, pretty brown eyes and that sinful mouth and a tongue that Nick wants to feel a thousand times more.

Nick frowns as Ethan types, lazily trying to grab it back but missing entirely.

“What are you typing? Ethan?”

“I’m saying… ‘he’s just been balls deep inside me’,” Ethan cackles, and Nick shoots up at that, grabbing his phone, seeing the exact words sent by ‘Nick’ in the chat.

“Fuck!” he says, “Ethan!”

He settles back down, cringing as he sees the messages from Ethan's first text fly in, making Ethan laugh loudly and Nick cringe but smile all the same.

jacob elordi brainrot

Tara: HOLY FUCKKKK

Larray: u little SLUT

Larray: how big is he?

Tara: NICK FINALLY GOT DICK GUYS IM SO PROUD OF HIMM 😭😭😭

Larray: ANSWER ME RN

Ethan snatches it back, taking Nick by surprised then takes a snap of them, Nick hiding half his face under the duvet, Ethan looking far too pleased with himself.

“You look so cute,” Ethan says, and Nick’s stomach summersaults again, watching Ethan send the picture, waiting for the instant replies.

His phone pinged constantly after the photo was sent, Nick can imagine what kinds of debauchery his two friends are yapping about the situation.

“Your friends are funny,” Ethan laughs, putting the phone aside, and Nick is over his initial embarrassment, especially as Ethan cuddles into him, letting Nick rest in the crook of his neck. He feels Ethan’s arm around him and kisses into his hair so he sneaks an arm around the other, hugging his waist close, enjoying the feel of a smile against his forehead.

“They got me laid, so, yeah, they’re ok,” Nick says into Ethan’s chest, Ethan playing with his hair as he mutters, “they got you completely fucked – ruined – I think you said.”

“Shit, let it go,” Nick teases.

“You’ve had better, baby?” Ethan checks, and Nick wants to lie, to tease, to flirt, but he has no energy and it’s preposterous to think he's had better than this. The sex was magnificent, electric, and Nick is still buzzing from it, wondering if he’ll ever come down from it.

“No,” he says shyly, honestly, “you?”

“No, shit. I thought so, but you were something else,” Ethan praises, and Nick preens under his compliments and praise, flushing from pride rather than embarrassment this time around.

“You’re gonna stay, yeah?” Ethan asks, and Nick assumed he was. It feels natural, being here, like this, with Ethan. Nick nods into Ethan’s chest, and Ethan hugs him tighter, promising they’ll chill and order food later, Nick can stay and they’ll watch films.

“Maybe you can make good on your word later,” Ethan growls, “and ride me, bounce on my dick, huh?”

“I can’t even think about any physical activity right now,” Nick sighs dramatically, Ethan tickling his ear. Nick has his eyes closed but he can feel Ethan’s huge, beautiful smile, the visual of it imprinted in his brain. He’s already thinking about it though, climbing on top of Ethan and sitting back on his dick, rolling his hips.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Ethan said, and Nick snuggles into him, making a mental note to thank his friends when he next sees them. He’s sore but satisfied. All he needs is a nap, some food, and then he thinks he’ll enjoy showing Ethan exactly how good he is.

[beatcroc]

a year!!! as of today i have now been drawing these funny little pizza freaks, to the exclusion of almost everything else, for!!! an entire year!!! i wanted to do a nice group shot/lineup of everybody to compare to when i first started trying to draw them because oh boy were they bad. i never even posted most of them anywhere because they were so bad. but im posting them here, now, to see how everything's changed/evolved.

this is probably the hardest time i've ever had trying to figure out how to work with a style, but we got there eventually; i'm pretty happy with the handle i've got on everybody now...dont let ur memes be dreams. lots of unimportant journaling and idle thoughts abt it below.

older pics

the first one is the VERY first time i drew them, before i thought i was going to actually have any interest in drawing them [lmao]; it was just the one isolated image, for my friendserver, to illustrate the funney message, so there was no attempt to make it Good or actually understand anything going on w/ the designs or style.

second is the original run of practices sketches to start trying to figure them out for real; done after i started having ideas for the comics and such and realized oh god maybe i am actually gonna draw fanart for this. [again, lol, and lmao.]

third one is the first pt art thing i posted on here. there were a couple weeks of sprite studies between this one and the previous image. the one on the top right wasn't part of that post i just threw it on as space filler; i'd intended to shift to doing Sprite Redraws But Stylized to explore tings more, but that was the only one i did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

individual characters

peppino: by far the hardest dear god. bro what ARE your shapes how DOES your face work. jesus christ. everything i have trouble with this style for, peppino has it in excess. i draw in polygons! i need consistency! and that is the last thing this kind of style is concerned with. they are made of squarshy clay and i do not understand how to mold them. i was really hoping trying to learn this game's style would GIVE me that kind of flexibility for fun exaggerated facial expression but i don't think much came of it in the end 😔. anyway on the bright side all this means once i got peppino figured out a little bit everybody else clicked way easier.

fake peppino: honestly i never did anything with him on purpose except for how his eyes work + the perma-smile thing. i figured ok hes supposed to look weird and off model so whatever happens with him happens. and it did. and it kept happening. it is still, in fact, happening.

noise/ette: somehow, for every bit that peppino was the least natural thing i've ever tried, these two worked pretty much right off the bat. i still don't understand it, seeing as pretty much all the things at play for peppino are also at work for them. i think the new sketches are actually a little worse than older ones but not enough that i care.

gustavo: really funny bc i drew him on model twice and just went 'okay, cool nice, easy, um. he doesn't have any fucking legs?' fortunately he was the only one i had a strong idea for how to stylize him [square] and it worked exactly as i was hoping so wahoo.

brick: is an animal and therefore 5000x easier and more natural for me to draw/stylize than anything else in the cast. that is Just a rat bro. i can draw a rat.

gerome: i think the funniest one here. the most drastic and least necessary change imo. i was gonna have him be really small at first, like smaller than the noises, but then i just... didn't. he's just peppino-sized now. also i gave him like. actual human facial structure, which is funny bc in most cases i'd do anything to avoid, but it works well for his being A Rock to give him some angles and definition like that+ to differentiate his vibe from the rest of the cast who are all very squishy. also since he is essentially Just A Head it's good to emphasize that too ig.

john: i only drew john a couple times but he gets to be here because i like him. and because most of the stuff i applied to gerome was readily applicable to john, though i did try to keep him a little more uncanny because he is a Huge And Lanky Freak. i hate that he is barefoot btw but idk how to make his color balance look right with shoes.

pizzahead: i did not want to put him on here honestly but i Have drawn him a handful of times and more importantly i didn't know what i was gonna do with john's pose if i didn't have him there to be glared at. the only thing that's different with him is giving him wider-bottomed pants, which i got from when i tried to draw these guys in clone high style [i never posted that one either][i will eventually]

snick: he gets to be here because 1. he's like 6 lines 2. i like him and 3. ive scribbled him a few times offhand and it went pretty well

misc

there are some guys missing because those are guys i didn't draw enough [or at all] to have gotten comfortable with them. sorry

i would have Liked to shade these but for the time being i have accepted that my grasp of light/shadow has decayed to the point im not going to be happy with anything i try there, so For Now i am working on my presentation with flats i guess. gerome has a shadow only because he's shaded like that ingame and looks naked without it

anyway if you are still reading [hi?] i get to shamelessly plug now. i'm over the hill of my pizza run now, and while i still have plenty of things i want to make here, most of the bigger more in-depth ones have passed. pizza tower was the first thing in THREE YEARS to get me out of my oc groove to doing fanart, and once i am done with my ideas here i will be going right back to it. if you like my art or how i write characters/interactions you should check out my oc/webcomic blog @jamverse . i can't promise people who like pizza stuff will be terribly into my designs, but i can guarantee i treat my guys with the exact same sort of tone i handle the pt guys with. and hell, i've mentioned it a few times before, but like 70% of my characterization for fake pep is just copied off one of my characters, so if u are going to miss him... he will still be there in spirit >;p

and if you dont care about any of that and are still reading thank you anyway. actually making these comics + seeing how shockingly well-received they've been has done a lot for my confidence, and for seeing that my kind of stuff IS something people enjoy :')

[lanadeldixon]

Summertime Sadness

Pairing- Daryl x fem reader (some Rosita x reader if you squint)

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- angst, implied panic attack, mentions of death, someone being beaten, starved Daryl :(

Setting- s7 Alexandria

Summary- The saviours come to collect their 50%, but when you see the condition Daryl is in it’s hard to cope.

“Oh my God,” I whispered “Daryl?” His name a symphony of worry on my lips. A name I used to say with such love now drained of its positivity and filled with fear instead.

Vulnerability shone through his eyes as he turned to me, “Y/N?”

As soon as my name fell from his lips, the end of a gun struck him straight in the jaw, the loud thud of his body hitting the ground echoed through the town.

My breath hitched and a tear rolled down my cheek as they hit him again, yelling at him, “SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TOO!”

“Leave him alone,” my voice choked up to the point where it came out in only a whisper.

“Let him go,” I cried louder this time, desperate to draw them away.

Hands wrapped around my mouth, too quick for me to react, my screams came out as muffled cries as I attempted to call for help.

But it was no use, I was dragged backwards into my house,

“Shh, you have to calm down, okay?” I immediately un-tensed at the sound of her voice.

“You gotta be tough, you do shit like that you’ll get all of us killed.” Rosita exclaimed sternly.

Her hands released me and she circled me until we were eye to eye.

“You’re not gonna be doing us any favours getting yourself killed,” it was clear to see she was still in grief, she was mourning a man she’d killed off in her mind a long time ago, only now he was truly gone and it was still sinking in.

She had become colder, no one could blame her, however all of us were too busy drowning in our own insurmountable grief and missing loved ones to pay attention to anything else.

I nodded at her like a school kid following her teachers orders then opened my mouth preparing to respond.

“Bam!” The door swung open.

“We said 50% didn’t we?!” His voice shook us to the core.

Whispers of the dead conquered my thoughts as I turned to look at him.

“Woah ho ho well you must be the girl?!”

Negan exclaimed following it with a slight laugh.

“Well you sure are a pretty thing ain’t ya!” His hand reached to my face as he said it, I stared him down, not daring to move but still not hiding my resentment.

“If I weren’t such a fan of your boy Daryl I think I’d have to make you one of my wives,” a sinister grin took over his face as my mine began to pale.

He leaned close to my ear, to the point where I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, “Hell, im the boss, I could just do it anyway…”

I tried to hold back my anger, to not say anything out of fear of what he might do. But the idea of having to marry him sickened and overwhelmed me, “fuck you,” I snarled, eyes finally meeting his.

“You got some massive lady balls and I gotta say, I dig that.” He stated, pulling his face away.

“I’m so tempted to bring you home darling.” He finished, deep down I knew he was just teasing but the thought revolted me.

“I would never be the wife of someone like you,” I responded, my face scrunching up.

He looked at me still with that daring smile.

At that point I couldn’t taken it anymore, my rage boiled until finally, it spilled, I looked at him and let out a large wad of spit aiming it right at his leg.

“Go to hell,” I stated, storms in my eyes.

His face finally faltered as he stared at the stain on his trousers.

“Ho ho ho, you bitch,” he said grabbing the back of my hair and yanking me outside of the house.

“How about we put on a little show, huh darling” he purred in my ear.

I felt ill as he forced me to my knees and began to gesture with Lucille.

“Now I was gonna be nice today but it seems some of you still need an example of how to behave.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned as he spoke.

I didn’t cry, I was very careful to heed Rosita’s advice and made sure I didn’t once show my fear, Daryl however did not do the same…

“Y/N!” He screamed as if I was already dead.

“DONT TOUCH HER,” he cried with rage, “I’LL KILL YA!”

“Bring him,” calmly, he gestured to the woman on his right as he spoke.

She dragged him so he was diagonal to me, she then kept her hands on his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on me.

Now I knew to be scared but all I could think was how tired he looked, behind the rage and upset was masked malnutrition and exhaustion. I couldn’t help but worry.

“We’re gonna break up another couple tonight,” he laughed aiming and fake swinging his bat at me.

I grimaced at his statement recalling the story of what happened to Glenn and Abraham and the devastation Maggie and Sasha were left with.

“I’m sorry, you would’ve been a real treat to come home too but looks like you’re gonna end up another lost treasure.”

“Last chance to say goodbye lover boy,” Negan warned.

Daryl was screaming profanities at him, doing everything he could to divert Lucille’s attention to him instead but to my relief, his attempts failed…

That was when the countdown started…

“10…” my breathing quickened.

“9…” I could see Daryl’s mouth moving, his whole body scrambling beneath the saviours holding him back, but all I could hear was Negans voice.

“8…” “just continue to do this when you’re scared okay baby?” I could hear my mums voice infiltrating my thoughts, guiding me to breathe.

“7…” I can see the flowers, they look so pretty, especially now that the lilies have grown, my mother didn’t like lilies, she always loved roses.

“6…” I can see the sun, it shines so brightly today, beaming down its light onto all of us, I think of Daryl’s nickname for me.

“5…” I can see my friends, I love my friends. Part of me wishes I could see Maggie again, the other doesn’t want her to see this.

“4…” I can see the sky, it looks painted today, the way the clouds are floating looks ethereal.

“3…” I can see Daryl. My Daryl, I smile.

“2…” I can see the bat, it blocks the sun as it’s lifted high into the sky.

“1…” I can see Glenn and Abraham, I didn’t think I’d see them so soon but I’m happy-

“I’LL JOIN YA!” Silence overcame the crowd as Daryl pleaded.

“Just let her go, that’s all I ask” his voice quaked, there was a frantic look of desperation in his eyes.

Silence…

Negan chuckled before his face turned stern.

“Who are you?” He commanded in a teasing tone.

“I am Negan…”

[caramellcandy]

Okay so here it is! I used the idea i sent previously so since its night time Polite can in fact hug them if he wants to. Anyway I hope you like it!

Odysseus sits at his desk late into the night plotting the path home. Its obvious he has not been sleeping well with eye bags and tangled hair as he leans back with a tired sigh. He knows he should try to sleep but he can feel the weight of those who had died pulling at him and he knows all he will find in sleep is haunting nightmares and screams.

"Odysseus?"

Odysseus scrambles off the chair knocking it down in the process as he draws his sword and points it at the intruder. He flinches at the ghostly sight of his best friend looking exactly like he did in death but soon hardens his heart and glares.

"Who are you?"

Polites no not polites the imposter he has to be an imposter looks confused and hurt as he tries to reach out towards Odysseus a bloody hand reaching out one last time the word Captain ringing in his ears causing him to flinch. Polites pulls back eyes filled with familiar concern and sadness.

The door bursts open and Eurylochus rushes in eyes worried and determined but pauses, tense, as he catches sight of Polites.

"Captain? What's going on? I came in here because I heard a commotion but..."

"I'm not sure yet they were just about to me who they are."

Polites tries to show one of his usual sunshine smiles but it comes across more like pleading for them to believe him.

"What do you mean ,its me, im Polites!"

Odysseus really wants to believe him but after everything ... How can he know its not just another trick, a cruel punishment from some God. But if it really is him...

"Fine if your really who you say you are tell me something only Polites would know."

Polites perks up with a bright smile, happy to have a chance to prove himself. He pauses to think about before smirking his eyes full of mischief.

"Remember that time when you were 12 and you were washing off in the stream and a crawfish latched onto your-"

"OKAY okay you don't need to finish I believe you!"

Odysseus has a light blush, embarrassed as he glares at Eurylochus who is obviously struggling to contain laughter.

"Eurylochus, Not. A. Word."

Eurylochus looks away trying to hide the grin on his face as he still holds back laughter.

"I have no idea what your talking about Captain."

Odysseus groans as he buries his face in his hands.

"Seriously Polites out of everything you could have said why did it have to be that."

Both Polites and Eurylochus can't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter at his embarrassment. Odysseus chuckles a bit but soon laughter turns into tears as he breaks down sobbing finally realizing that its really him.

"Polites I'm so sorry.. I should have done bett-"

Polites pulls him into a hug and hushes him.

"No Ody I promise my death is not your fault okay? Please don't blame yourself anymore."

Odysseus flinches before relaxing into the hug. Its not as warm as it used to be but its still just as comforting simply because its Polites. Eurylochus kneels down and places a comforting hand on Odysseus until Polites drags him into the hug as well. He tenses but soon relaxes as he starts to cry silently.

For the first time in forever they three of them lay there on the floor simply happy to embrace each other as they cry. They clung to each other not caring that Odysseus might be a bit more monstrous than before, that Polites is still dead, or that Eurylochus has grown more and more concerned for Odysseus and the crew. No all that matters is that they are together again and right now that is enough.

it's so cute that the three of them end up hugging, I love it❤

[moremaybank]

HI HI HI HI SO I GOT THIS ADORABLE IDEA FOR JJ X READER INSPIRED BY MY NEW KITTEN

SO BASICALLY I GOT THIS KITTEN HE WAS NAMED BY MY NIECE AND NEPHEW HIS NAME IS SPRINKLES AND HES AN ALL BLACK CAT BUT ANYWAYS HE ONLY RESPONDS WHEN YOU CALL HIM BABY AND PRETTY BOY AND I THINK ITD BE SO CUTE IF IT WAS WITH READER AND JJ AND JJ KEPT RESPONDING WHEN READER WOULD CALL FOR THE KITTEN AND ITS JUST FLUFFY AND CUTE AND AH

ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU AND I HOPE YOU WRITE THIS CAUSE IM AN AWFUL WRITER AND COULD NEVER WRITE IT LIKE YOU COULD AND I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY

-🫶 anon

i hope you like it bae 🤍

Life couldn't get any better. You're curled up in the cozy bedding, with your two favourite boys with you. One is plopped in your lap, looking up at you as you pet him with sparkling eyes, and the other is sleeping peacefully beside you. His blonde hair is a slumbered mess, and light snores slip past his lips. You're surrounded with so much love and gooeyness that you don't know what to do with yourself.

Lifting your kitten up so he's face to face, you can't help but grin. "You're such a pretty boy," you coo, pressing kisses to his curious face.

Meanwhile, JJ's slowly waking up to the sound of your voice. He can hear your smile, and he can't help but mirror it sleepily. He feels all warm and fuzzy inside. Waking up to you starts his day. Feeling your love starts his day. He can't get enough of you and he never wants to.

"Look at you, baby. You're the sweetest ever."

JJ cuddles into his pillow more, basking in your compliments and adoration. Only, he can hear you, but he can't feel you. Your hands aren't roaming all over him, and your lips aren't littering soft kisses on his skin. Suddenly, his eyes shoot open and he's quick to frown with jealousy when he catches you giving all your attention to your new pet.

"Who's a pretty baby?" You ask, adorning your kitten with more kisses.

"'S supposed to be me," JJ rasps. His brows are creased and his lips are pursed. He's wearing an adorable look of envy, and you somehow manage to grin even wider.

"Aw, is someone feeling left out?"

JJ lets out a groan, and he moves so his back is now to you. You set your cat down, and you cuddle into your boyfriend, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

"You're the prettiest boy I know, J." Your kitten seems to agree, because he lets out a meow and climbs onto JJ's back, nestling into his smooth skin.

"Yeah?" He asks, feeling warm inside once again.

"Mhm. You agree, baby?"

"Mm," he hums, "I guess."

You laugh softly, "I was talking to the kitten, JJ."

He tries to shimmy you off of him. "No fair, he's stealing my attention, my nicknames, and my kisses. If he steals my weed, I'm putting him out on the street."

You gasp dramatically. "Weed? That's where you draw the line?"

"Shut up. 'M still mad at you."

concepts

[vhstown]

tag team

— hobie brown x gn!reader

summary: Authoritarian regimes aren't immune to a bit of graffiti; you can't do it without Spider-Punk, though.

content/warnings: fluff, banter (that has the... unintended effect), mentions of politics + discrimination, brief mentions of police brutality + being shot (nobody is hurt dw), london slang is used (im a londoner but still might be a bit ooc lol).

word count: 1.9k

a/n: camden version of hobie. reader is a hopeless loser (rnt we all). ambiguous relationship sort of? criticisms accepted + appreciated ! (i dont write hobie much 💀)

"Go on, then."

Spider-Punk — or Hobie, as you knew him, stood opposite you in the backstreet, arms crossed and with a grin you could practically see under his mask. The metal spray paint can was cool in your hand, which was already clammy with adrenaline as you brought the it to the wall.

This was your idea. It was supposed to be a joke at first, but Hobie thought it was brilliant. He wouldn't let it go: tagging up places in this part of town — the part where people like you and Hobie weren't welcome. Behind the fences and less-than-subtle signs to "keep out", entire neighbourhood reeked of Wilson Fisk: anti-punk, anti-rebellion, autocrat, about class and "serving the man" — whatever the hell that meant. Now, it was going to reek of paint that probably wasn't safe to inhale — at least, the back of some rich white bloke's house was.

Well, "rich white bloke" and "random politician" were interchangeable. You'd be fine; that's what Hobie told you anyway.

The can rattled in your hand as you shut one eye, holding your breath before red paint spurted out onto the wall. Hobie watched in silence, probably in amusement too. You debated threatening him with the can as a joke while you marked out the start of your drawing, feeling the eyes of his mask on your back. The breath you'd taken in before left you, and you haphazardly drew in another shallow one.

You'd been thinking about this for a while: making trouble under the guise of your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Punk, or protest, as Hobie liked to call it. His vigilante persona didn't exactly have the best reputation around here, or anywhere, in fact. Maybe you could change that — or worsen it. Either way, you had to breathe, so you took in another breath.

"Ah, shi—" The tight feeling in your throat exploded into a fit of violent coughing, and you were barely able to feel Hobie's hand on your back as you reeled away from the wall. "What the...?" you managed, before your eyes squeezed shut again, feeling another cough wring through your lungs.

"A'ight, that's definitely not normal." Hobie leaned over with a hand on your shoulder before he took the can out of your hands. You could make out his frown behind the tears stinging at your eyes as you tried to swallow back another cough.

"Yeah?" You furrowed your brows, trying to straighten out your shoulders again. "Didn't know paint could give me TB."

"I haven't got TB," he shrugged, gloved fingers tapping at the can.

"Cause you've got a mask." Hobie suddenly gave you a ruthless thwack between your shoulder-blades, making you flinch. "I'm not coughing anymore, stupid!"

The eyes of his mask narrowed as you shot a look at him; the bastard was probably enjoying this. Maybe you were too.

"You wanna wear it?" he asked instead, thumb already hooked under the bottom of his mask before he pulled it back; his actual was expression more subtle, but still just as taunting.

"Don't you have a secret identity to keep?"

"Think you've got lungs to keep, big man." His knuckles knocked at the centre of your chest before pulling the mask over your face in one quick motion.

The fabric warmed your skin as you adjusted the neck of it a little, feeling the mask blink with you. It was weird; it was kind of like you had nothing on your head at all. But the warmth was definitely from the mask and not the fleeting feeling of his fingers on your chest — and not the devilish look he was giving you right now.

Creak...!

The two of you looked around at what sounded like a door opening. You looked at Hobie, and he just shrugged at you, lips pushed up in his usual unbothered half-frown. His Spider-sense musn't have gone off, but your heart rate did. If you were going do this, you better do it quick.

Though your reference was on your face right now, you knew Spider-Punk well enough to remember the mask. Hobie let out the start of a chuckle when he recognised the giant white eyes you painted over the red. The mask definitely helped. Your arm, already covered in specks of paint, made a popping sound as you reached up to do the spikes, finishing the giant mural of sorts of your lanky, loud-mouthed, anarchist best friend.

The punk in question gave you a slightly curious look as you stepped away, the eyes of the mask on your face narrowing as you scanned over the dripping wet portrait. Pulling it off of your head, your hair was somehow still completely in place as you handed the mask back; no wonder his wicks fit in there.

"Well," you started, watching him look at the mural. "Aren't you gonna sign it?"

"It's your work." He tilted his head down a bit, though mirth was already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, and it's of you." It seemed like you didn't have to tell him twice before he zipped the can out of your hands with a flick of his wrist, already spraying an X onto the wall despite the mask hanging by his side. He didn't so much as clear his throat (lucky — you nearly died) as the letters F, N, S and M followed in each section of the X. That was the same symbol on the back of his vest, but you'd never bothered to ask about it.

"What does that stand for?" you questioned, arms folding as you mirrored his stance from before.

"Guess."

"I asked so I wouldn't have to guess." A silent grin you didn't want to entertain started forming on his face. "Fine, uh..."

You wracked your brain; it was probably more simple than you thought, but all your brain could conjure up was: "Fascists need stopping... uh, Monday?"

That got a ruthless snort out of him, making you press your lips together to try and take back your words. "Just Monday?"

"You told me to guess," you shrugged, rolling your eyes before they landed on the painting again. It was still wet; it was warm out, so the dripping wouldn't stop anytime soon. For some reason, it was always sunny in these neighbourhoods, almost like those autocrats had bought the sun too. Whatever, you didn't need the sun — a rebellious 6ft punk did just fine anyway; at least, that would explain why you were so warm around him all the time. "You gonna tell me or no?"

"Facists need stopping..." he mused, in a gratingly posh accent, hand brought up to his chin in a dramatic mockery of pondering. "Nah, I was thinkin' we should just leave it, you know? Let 'em be, innit?"

Hobie Brown — the only person you knew who would joke about their ideologies just to poke fun at you.

"Yeah, yeah, every other day of the week," you added dryly, getting a cackle out of Hobie.

"Thought you were meant to be smart, darling." The remnants of his mock-posh voice bleeding into the "darling". You could just tell he was being unserious — it was something you hated and loved about him. Why would you want him to be serious...?

"Thought you were supposed to be helpful," you spat back, getting another entertained breath out of him. Hobie shook his head before you suddenly snatched the can out of his hand, pointing it at him. The both of his loosely came up in mock-defense, but the grin on his face only grew.

"You threatenin' me now, yeah?" It sounded less like a question and more like another jab at your pride. Things had been a bit too quiet between you two recently, and you felt yourself getting fired up; it was a shame that your heart always raced like crazy whenever the banter started rising.

"Do it, then," he proposed at your silence, taking a step towards you and making you step back. "What's a bit of paint? You gonna cough again?"

"I actually will." You attempted to scrunch up your face in annoyance.

"Cough? I bet." His head tilted down to look at you, wicks shadowing everything but the amused glint in his eyes.

"You've got a serious problem." And you'd got a seriously warm face.

"Got more than just one problem, darlin'." You hated the way it came out of his mouth this time; you'd rather he pretend to speak like Fisk.

"Stop calling me that or I'll actually spray you."

"Didn't know you were a cop."

"Hobie." You let out a sigh, only serving to get another low chuckle out of him; he was so close you could almost feel the vibrations of his laugh. The fact that he was freakishly tall didn't help in the slightest, his silence along with the swirling feeling in your stomach making you unconsciously take a step back.

You winced immediately as you felt your back stick to the wet paint. "Oh, what the hell..."

Hobie's snickering didn't help. "You didn't have to move, you know."

You decided to ignore that, peeling yourself off of the wall and glancing behind you to see your back imprinted on the neck of your Spider-Punk portrait.

"Interesting artistic choice," he mused.

"Shut up, Hobie."

"On it, boss." You felt his hand on your shoulder before he turned you around, making the air catch at your throat as he peeked at your back, which now had a portrait of its own. "Blood of Monday fascists — very rebel. Got your outfit sorted for tonight."

"Your gig's tonight?" you groaned, trying not to look at his face over your shoulder and instead tossing the can back into the bag of other paint cans, still managing to catch how his lips pushed up in indifference, and probably mild entertainment.

"Nah, we're going out, darlin'," he snickered, and you felt him pinch the fabric wet with red paint to peel it off of your back. The rest of you was probably about to turn cartoonishly red too; this man just wouldn't give it a rest.

"Right, and I'm supposed to 'go out' looking like I got shot in the back."

"Like I'd let you," he muttered, removing his fingers from your back before shrugging off his vest, tossing it to you with the light clink of pins and buttons.

You raised an eyebrow, but he wasn't elaborating, so you put it on, trying not to cringe at the feeling of drying paint on your back. The vest was comfortable, though a bit heavy; it was cool, familiar, nice-smelling — like Hobie.

"Lookin' like a little me," he teased.

"I swear, if one more word comes out of your mouth—"

Your threat was cut short by the deafening blare of alarms, the wall in front of you flashing with a red that wasn't paint. Rich white bloke...

"Do all of them have alarms?" you whisper-shouted to Hobie.

"Looks like Willy does."

"Willy..." your brows knitted together as you watched Hobie pull his mask back on. "Fisk?!"

You'd just drawn a giant mural of Spider-Punk at the back of Wilson Fisk's house. A giant signed mural.

Without a chance for you to think, Hobie slung his arm around your back, and you weren't sure whether to be worried about being caught, annoyed about the paint pressing into your skin or absolutely bewildered as you felt your feel lift off the floor, clinging to him for dear life.

The bag of paint cans were zipped into his arm, with you, still wearing his vest, held against him by the other. Another one of his relentless cackles ripped through the air alongside the "thwip!" of his webs. Despite how absurd this was, a laugh of your own escaped too when you made out the fuming face of Wilson Fisk himself, a powerless, shouting little stain on the ground as you zipped away.

The fascists could wait 'til Monday. Right now, you had a gig to go to with Spider-Punk — or a date; he'd figure it out once the police were off of his tail.

🕸️🔭🎸

thank u for reading! i rly had to wrack my brain lmao ... not the best at writing hobie but it's okay im trying lol... again feedback is cool!

just fyi "big man" isn't really used as a gendered term! in my experience at least its used to casually poke fun at people. also if ur curious the FNSM symbol stands for friendly neighbourhood spider-man (i feel like im the only one that didn't know this um lmao)

if u liked this, reblogs r appreciated! catch the rest of my atsv stuff here <3

[itsyagurlchip]

Can u tell me more of ur au plz?

you're in luck! I still have a few character ref sheets left! I'll give more characterization and backstory for these lil guys!

also sorry if this comes out a bit late- im taking a break from art for a while and while im typing this (07/30/24) i'm also finishing the visualization ref page for reader.

(current chip) ANON KISSING YOU ON THE CHEEK SWINGING YOU AROUND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!<3333 MY IDEAS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE CATCH UP OR BE CONFUSED.

It's both an AU, and a fic so I apologize if things get messed up. So when I say "Undertake Sans/Papyrus/Person" it refers to my AU rather than the original "classic". My fic refers to the "6 skeletons, one human" trope and the AU focuses on details from the Undertake universe.

I may have over explained, but I wanted to keep that clear- And most of this post will take the time to talk about the plot and lore of the fic.

As I've said before, Undertake is just a sillier version of Undertale where shenanigans happen all the time on the surface. But I've never explained fully why. Welp! Here you go....

We all know how the trope goes. Sans tries to get his Dad back, and succeeds! Except this time, it's on the surface. And Frisk doesn't feel like...Frisk. Anyways, bringing Gaster back from the Void has caused complications within the universe, about 5 years after monsters resurfaced.

"One time things" turn into regular occurrences, stereotypical situations that would never happen in real life are happening, it's overall stupidity!

But Sans and Reader are the only ones who "know" about this change. Sans just rolls along with it, using this as a breather from past resets. Reader, on the other hand, has whiplash from the whole thing. When did everything change? and why? Something felt wrong in their SOUL. Everyone else seems to fit into this random "normal" and it pisses reader off.

But they're a kid. They don't know what they're talking about, so they ignore them as best as they can.

-

Since every monster is on the surface, and pretty much all need jobs, Sans becomes a scientist of sorts. He represents most monster scientists, and helps humans with the evolution of magic-science. He doesn't work all the time, that's a big role to fit in; something Alphy's would gladly take, and so he mostly works on projects at home.

Integrating n shit, I'll leave those details to the fic.

After getting licensed, transferring his master's degree in physics, and getting all the tools he needs, he decides to re-build gaster's machine to bring him back.

Mind you, this is a year after they get to the surface, so nothing has changed yet. When Gaster came through the machine (I'll draw it so you can get a better representation of what it looks like) he was horrified.

Why was he melting? His face was now stuck in a forever frown. Looking at his hands, you could still see the holes engraved into them from when he was first born.

He began to sign something ancient, a language horrifically nostalgic he almost forgot to catch what he was saying.

But before he could respond, the world went black. There was a wild pulsing in his SOUL before the world went black.

^^reader parallels this btw

I'm not gonna drop too much, because I don't wanna spoil any plans I have for this, but thank you so much for this ask!! I might even start writing chapters in January

here's reader's character sheet btw. (and when you guys read it do understand that you dont have to portray them in the same way i do, nor do you have too be an ass abt it)

©KAL pls don't steal, repost, trace, or whatever an art theif does. you can inspire yourself! just tag me to let me know<3

y'all better clap for me

im on a writing roll

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･(title)☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ᯓᡣ𐭩(warnings:) ᯓᡣ𐭩(note) ᯓᡣ𐭩 (summary)

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi @acesgarden

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

i have an idea for a q x reader (specifically the one from the next generation cuz idk) but i have absolutely no writing pizzazz so id thought you’d like to hear about it:

ok so reader (can be she/her or gender neutral whatever ur comfy w/) works on the enterprise and she was betrothed to a guy when she was born. he’s a bit of a jerk, she doesn’t rlly wanna marry him BUT in grooms society a betrothal is a binding vow so the crew on the enterprise can’t interfere with it as it’s their way of life (cuz i THIIIINK that goes against the prime directive im not too sure tho). so anyways she/they is feeling a little bit down so she decideds to pray to *any* god out there to help her (i think you know where this is going accidental summoning of god trope here we go). SOOO unfortunately she summons Q. Q says “i’ll help you, but you need to get married to me instead because ever since i was turned into a human i’ve wanted to know what that’s like and fortunately ur in the right place at the right time girlfriend”. reader says yes cuz again groom is a jerk. their relationship develops (and obviously everybody on the enterprise and their mothers are VRRY mad, picard even more so).

if the reader ever does develop actual feelings for him and turn it into a fluffy fic or if she is totally disinterested and it can be a lil angsty twinge that’s for you to decide. SORRY if this is too many details and doesn’t rlly leave room for creativity i tried to keep it as barebones as possible. again if you wanna write this that’s totally up to you and i 100% respect it if you don’t but if you do see this and it catches ur interest then im glad i asked. love ur stuff 🫶

I do.

Q x fem!reader (3rd POV) Words: 3.1K Warnings: Arranged marriage, marriage of convinience A/N: Thanks again for the request @franlovesyouu and I am so sorry again, that it took so long. I changed a bit, I hope that's okay. Hope you still enjoy it :) P.S. the fiancé became a bit of an asshole. Sorry for that

His hand lay on her back and travelled up and down. She felt sick and had to turn to the side as the mere sight of him was too much for her. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Worf and Will, among others, were sitting at one of the tables nearby, watching her tensely. She tried to give them an encouraging smile, but she already knew it would be useless. There was nothing encouraging about the situation.

Just then, she could feel Esua's hand move from her back to her waist and pull her towards her. "Hey. Eyes on me sweetie." His breath reeked of alcohol and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could to stifle the tears that suddenly welled up, but before she did, she could see Worf sit up straighter and was held back by a grim-looking Will. "Hey!"

His fingers gripped her chin firmly and he turned her face almost brutally towards him.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked at him, still fighting back the tears. He grinned smugly. "' That's good." She managed a growl and yanked her head out of his grasp. "Don't. I told you I don't like it." His fingers tightened around her chin again, this time with more pressure, and she was sure she'd bruise. "You are my wife. You have to obey me, whether you like it or not."

Her heart grew heavy and at the same time she felt like she was going to throw up. She tore herself away again and stood up this time to get some space between herself and him.

"I'm not your wife yet," she hissed softly so as not to draw attention to her, but she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. "Which means you have nothing to dictate to me."

She turned on the spot and stormed towards the door. Will stood up, concern clearly visible, but she just shook her head. She just wanted to be alone

At that moment, she was glad that she could have mapped out the layout of the ship in her sleep, as her vision was obscured by a veil of tears that allowed her to make out nothing more than outlines. She only allowed the tears to flow freely when the doors to her quarters closed behind her and she was in the private safety of herself.

A sob escaped her, clawing at the back of her throat, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Even if the walls were soundproofed, there was that small part of her that refused to shed tears over this man. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"God," she gasped, running her hands vigorously over her face in the hope of getting a hold of herself without much success. "Pull yourself together. You're strong, not fussy, you shouldn't be sitting here crying."

But no matter how hard she tried to keep it together, she couldn't and eventually the first hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. As soon as the liquid wet her skin, there was no escape in sight and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't help but collapse on her sofa, sobbing.

She should have been more composed and in control of herself by now. After all, she knew it would come to this since she was a little girl. The Drakthar, her people, were a fairly traditional people, as the humans liked to call them, and betrothals of children for political and social benefits were not uncommon and more importantly: binding. There were very few reasons why a betrothal could be broken off and Esau, as obnoxious as he was, was no fool and had taken meticulous care to ensure that none of these cases would occur.

And she had actually come to terms with it by now. However, now that the wedding date was only a few months away and the time when the bride and groom were supposed to be together began, the whole thing seemed so much more realistic and threatening.

She knew that crying wouldn't help her either. She would have to marry Esau and spend her life by his side.

Not even the Enterprise could help her, as it was already clear that he would live here with her.

There was no escape. And yet she caught herself as it escaped her lips. "Please, someone, help," she pleaded, but knew it was useless. No one would be able to help her. No one.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep, exhausted and weeping, because she woke up as a flash of light coursed through her quarters. Sleepy and a little disorientated, she looked around and it wasn't long before her eyes fell on the tall, brunette man in the captain's uniform, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smirk on his lips. She had never seen him before, let alone met him in person, but it was no secret who was standing in front of her.

"Wrong quarters Q," she muttered, more resigned than angry and annoyed, which was probably how she should feel. "The captain's quarters are on a different deck."

Q, however, contrary to her expectations, did not move more than a step towards her. "No, no, my dear lieutenant, I'm definitely in the right place."

She frowned, but didn't have enough energy to actively argue with him. "Q, please. I'm really not in the mood for any games."

Q clicked his tongue admonishingly and stepped a little closer to her. "So ungrateful. Even though I've generously agreed to help you out." These words caught her attention and she straightened up a little on the sofa, confusion clear on her tear-streaked face. "To help out? How so?"

The grin had returned to his face and he seemed to take her question as an invitation to come closer. "I've heard your dilemma, with this ... creature you're supposed to marry because of your parents' wishes. Truly awful, no taste this man, just his choice of clothes seems even more boring than you mortals normally wear."

She didn't interrupt him, no matter how much she wanted to argue with him. She was desperate and if he actually had a way to help her, she would take it, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"But don't despair, for I have heard your plea!" Q spread his arms out as if he were standing in front of a huge crowd and giving a speech that would be followed by thunderous applause. She didn't clap, but simply raised a brow.

"Please don't get me wrong, I don't want to underestimate you or anything, but how are you going to help me? Breaking a Dratharkian engagement is next to impossible." Q smiled and leaned forward so that his face hovered directly in front of hers, allowing her to see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "But not completely." He snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hand with a small flash of light.

In a loud voice, as if he were standing in an open courtyard, he proclaimed, "A betrothal between the son and daughter of Drothrak is to be cancelled only if the son has betrayed the daughter; if the family of one harms the family of the other; if the daughter of Drothrak is claimed by divinity; or if the son of Drothrak is unable to provide a life for the daughter."

He rolled up the scroll again and it disappeared in another flash of light as he looked at it expectantly.

But she was only the more confused and devoted than before. "I know the rules, Q. And trust me when I say that none of them apply to me. Esau has not deceived me, at least not demonstrably, or cannot provide for me, nor do our families have a feud that can prevent this marriage. There is no way out." She pulled her knees to her chest.

Q, however, sighed heavily and dramatically and shook his head. "And here I thought I'd caught an intelligent mortal." He leaned further forward so that their faces were inches apart as she glared angrily at him. "What about the fourth exception?"

She snorted and turned her head away so she no longer had to stare into his irritating eyes. "Oh of course, how could I forget, silly me. Let me just call our neighbouring god and see if he can 'claim' me. Of course, how could I not think of that."

She expected a snippy comment from Q, but he remained silent, which irritated her even more. Although it was the first time she had met the omnipotent man, she knew from stories that he rarely remained silent. When she turned back to him, however, he only looked at her expectantly, somewhat amused, she thought, and seemed to be waiting for her to come to the conclusion he had already reached.

With a furrowed brow, she looked at him in turn and thought hard, mentally going over the things he had told her and the things she knew, and suddenly everything seemed to click into place. She widened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. "Oh."

"There you go!" Q straightened up and spread his arms. Out of nowhere, fanfares sounded and confetti fell to the floor like an awards ceremony. "The penny has dropped."

She was still a little behind, a little overwhelmed by the revelation. "You want to claim me?" Q grimaced slightly. "Claiming is such an outdated term. Very toxically masculine, don't you think? No, no, my dear. I'm offering you marriage."

The situation seemed to be slipping away from her more by the second. "You want to marry me?" Her voice got a little too high for her taste towards the end. "So my solution to escaping a marriage is to enter into another one?"

Q clicked his tongue again. "Well, I certainly hope that my presence is a lot more pleasant than that deadbeat's." She didn't even try to answer. "But why? What benefit could you possibly gain from it?" "Can't you just settle for me trying to help you?" Q was beginning to look a little annoyed and massaged the bridge of his nose, but she withstood his piercing gaze.

"You're offering to marry me. If you know our laws so well, you should know that a marriage like this cannot be dissolved. Never. So forgive me if I would like to know your motives before I bind myself to you for the rest of my life." Q stared at her for a few moments, as if contemplating whether it was worth it, before sighing devotedly and waving his hand dismissively in the air. "I've become curious." She raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "Curious? About marriage?"

He just snorted. "Don't sound so surprised. I was mortal myself. Admittedly not for long and it was an experience I would have liked to avoid, but there were definitely aspects that piqued my interest. And one of them is marriage."

His gaze slid to the porthole and his eyes flickered back and forth, as if trying to burn each passing star into his memory. "The idea that you choose one person to spend every moment of the rest of your life with... It's a strange thought, but an interesting one."

"Q," she muttered warningly. "If I agree to this, you'll be the one. This is not a game. I won't force you to spend time with me or anything like that, but I won't be allowed to have any other kind of relationship. So you need to be clear about what it means and be sure you're serious."

He looked at her and for the first time she truly felt that the man in front of her was eons old and had seen unimaginable things, just from the way his eyes looked in the dim light. " I am more than aware of the fact." She nodded slowly and exhaled shakily. She had to be insane, completely insane. Then again... What choice did she have? Q tilted his head. "I take it you'll accept the offer?"

A bittersweet smile settled on her lips. "I do."

~**~

"This is irresponsible! A disgrace!" Her mother's voice rang shrill and sharp in her ears, but she couldn't help but smile slightly herself. They were sitting in the captain's office and for the last ten minutes she had been listening to her mother and Esau's mother ranting in turn. Esau himself was sitting next to her, devastated.

Opposite her sat the captain and Will, both with serious faces, although she thought she saw the hint of a slight smile on Will's lips. "How dare you?" "Hasn't been particularly hard," she returned, which didn't make either woman particularly happy. "You've brought shame on both our families," Lytal, the mother of her ex-fiancé, screeched. "Esau was supposed to be your husband! You had obligations!"

"Ladies," said Picard, who had risen from his chair. His face was one of practised neutrality, but she could see the little sparkle in his eyes as his gaze flitted over to her for a brief moment. "I don't think this is going to get us anywhere. What's done is done."

"It's not valid," her mother hissed and she let out an annoyed sigh. "Mother, I've already explained it to you several times: Q and I followed the traditional rites. We are legally married according to Drothraki and Federation law. You can't undo it, when will you finally understand!" "You were betrothed to Esau, that's binding!" "I obeyed the law, Lytal." She was getting tired of it all. She had already repeated herself at least four times. "It is written in the law of our people that a betrothal can be cancelled if the bride is claimed by a god. That's what happened."

Lytal was fuming, so much so that she was sure the woman was about to burst a vein. "This is nothing more than a loophole, something added for the sake of etiquette-"

"And still part of the law!" Her mother gasped. "You apologise for your behaviour right now!" She exhaled slowly and squeezed out a forced smile before turning to Picard, to everyone's surprise. "My mother is right. I apologise for all the inconvenience I've caused you. I realise that I have caused some problems, but I hope you can understand my motives, sir."

She could see how hard it was for Picard not to smile. Will had completely given up, the smug grin clearly visible on his face. Her mum didn't think of it as funny.

"You ungrateful child!" She stormed towards her, her hand raised, but she didn't get far. A flash of light travelled across the room and suddenly Q stood between them, his eyebrow raised in warning, his expression one of amused annoyance. "Ladies, I think that's enough." There was something threatening in his tone.

"If any of you lay a hand on her, you'll have a problem with me, and believe me-" there was an almost dangerous glint in his eyes "- no one wants that." Both her mother and Lytal recoiled, frightened and the protest stifled in their throats, while Esau watched him sceptically from the corner. Picard, for his part, cleared his throat. "Q, I think that's enough."

However, he only snorted and just stepped far enough to the side for her to see him, but close enough to be able to step between them again in an emergency. "My own mother-in-law wanted to go after her daughter. My wife! As amusing as the whole thing has been so far, I would be neglecting my marital duties if I didn't intervene."

His gaze hardened as he looked back at the two women and Esau. "She is now under my protection. Any harm done to her will be dealt with in... creative ways." It truly amused her how quickly the colour drained from the three's faces the longer Q stared at them.

Will cleared his throat this time and stood up too, so that everyone present was now standing. "Let's face it: it can't be changed. The necessary documents have been submitted to prove that the marriage between her and Q was concluded months ago and is legitimate. However they managed that."

She had to suppress a grin, whereas Q presented his openly. It certainly had its advantages when space and time were no longer obstacles. "We should concentrate on what the lieutenant desires and what she wants."

He turned to her. "Lieutenant, did this marriage take place according to your wishes? You were not forced?" She nodded. "Yes, sir, it was all with my consent." "There you have it." Q raised his arms as if to say 'I told you so'. "Problem solved." Picard and Will exchanged a few glances before he turned to the two mothers. "As Commander Riker said, there's nothing we can do legally. And since the lieutenant is satisfied, we're not going to intervene. So we have no choice but to accept the whole thing and put it behind us."

Her mother turned red in the face again and seemed to want to say something, as did Lytal, but both were held back by Esau. "Leave it," he muttered, pulling them towards the door. "It's not worth it."

Q eyed her with a smug smile. "Smart decision, little mortal." He gave Q a scathing look, which wasn't particularly intimidating, before the door closed behind them and she exhaled in relief. With a somewhat exhausted smile, she turned to Picard. "Forgive me again, Captain." He just nodded. "Dismissed." She could still see Will's grin before she and Q disappeared in a flash of light and emerged in her quarters, where she dropped onto the sofa with a frustrated sound. Q followed quietly and settled down on the cushion. "You held yourself well. For a mortal."

It sounded derogatory, but she had learnt to read his mood over the last few months. He was impressed and pleased, at least a little. She turned her head slightly so that she could see him and noticed him twirling the ring on his hand, lost in thought, before he quickly withdrew his hand.

"Thank you Q. For stepping in." He just shrugged his shoulders, but she could see how pleased he was with the praise. "I would be a terrible husband if I didn't defend my wife's honour and health. I've learnt that much, after all."

She smiled. Although their relationship was not exactly a romantic one, she had grown fond of the god. And who knew what might come of it?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't know if you still wanna be tagged since I've been gone for a bit, but still did it just to be sure.

@bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani

[jivvie]

okay so quick side note before I get into MY HEAD… THE DOGS DIED SOBB THORGI MY BELOVED

vij’s thoughts on mcd season 1

from the beginning I LOVED the whole aspect of the role playing. It felt like a visual novel and I LOVE visual novels. If mcd becomes a game or book YES PLEASEEE

it was super interesting to learn more about Irene. In mystreet, we don’t really learn about her backstory so it was nice to learn about things that fit in the mystreet universe

100 episodes is A LOT and I thought fillers were fine. It definitely felt like a RPG game with all the tasks Aphmau had to do

Dude when Zane finally spoke his first line, I KICKED MY FEET AND SCREAMED INTO MY PILLOW YALL

Garroth was a little baby bitch at the end istg i wanted to punch his face but i guess he sacrificed himself for the group

Aaron is very unremarkable. Little emo boy. I’m guessing he has more screen time next season? ALSO HE HAD A WIFE AND A KID TF

still not a laurmau fan. SORRY GUYS but I just hate flirty guys and I feel like he’s also the reason for pushing garroth away from aphmau by like taking initiative. I guess thats why people are like yass Laurence but personally nah

I like how slowly you could realize that this series got more serious. like more ideas and thought put in for bg characters, even though they weren't "important"

Dante. MAKING HIM WAIT FOR 15 YEARS SOB. And I like how it seeps into mystreet as well

MAN ZANE AS LIKE JUST A VILLAIN YESSS. I hope he does not get redeemed and is just a bad guy

favorite character would have to be Donna. I really liked her character!! Sassy women <333

also omg legit forgot half of the villagers. like... who tf is corey???? is it molly or emma thats married to him??? too many damn pretty blonde women

babe house. just babe house.

i liked unhinged aphmau. its more funny now thinking about this compared to her newer content

at the end, i think i just cried for a minute or two. not only because i finished 100 episodes, but more that i miss aphmau's old content. her roleplay series is legit what got me through my childhood. and its very unlikely she'll return to this kind of content or similar roleplays.

like s7 is probably only here to satisfy us old hungry aphmau fans, but like MID?? no news whatsoever about it.

ANYWAYS I LOVED IT SO MUCH!! it was nice to just boot up an episode and just draw while watching. i might release some mcd doodles if i feel like it :P

i never tried mcd because im not a fantasy reader, but i pushed myself out of my comfort zone and im glad i did!! 10/10 would probably not do again because 100 eps are too much for me sob

[genmaichafan]

FREN! IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE WE’VE TALKED!

WHAT IF: Some rando has been trying to flirt with the reader. He seems to be ignoring how uncomfortable the reader is. This makes Donna incredibly jealous, as she doesn’t take kindly to creeps trying to steal away her girlfriend. As such, she TERRIFIES the creep and sweeps her gf home (lots of kisses and fluff ensue).

TY SM

Hello hello friend i have written it sorry i dont think its my best work and i kinda ignored the second half of the prompt because i uhh got lost in the sauce of an idea.

Anyways enjoy.

Donna x f!reader. modern au. sfw.

You had been at the coffee bar for a while now, Donna had just gone out to grab something quickly at the time being.

You loved this coffee shop.

the barista was friendly and always knew your favourite order. The seat you always wanted in the corner was often empty. And most of all it was quiet.

Something both Donna and you appreciated.

But today of all days there was a promotion going on for old brew that seemed to draw in people like crazy.

it was packed.

and worst of all there was this guy here. That seemed to be eying you up and down with a smirk, something in his eyes said he thought you were easy prey.

”donna please come back so we can leave” you whispered under your breath.

”talking to you self pretty lady?”

oh god he actually approached you.

”yeah i like talking to myself and the voices!” You tried to make him think you were mentally unwell so he would leave you alone.

”whoa. Spicy. I like that.”

you internally face palmed. This frat boy was not going to leave you any times soon.

“Yes I actually am waiting for my partner-“

”oh yeah? You guys open or something?”

you hadn’t noticed but donna had been back from whatever errand she had been doing and had heard the very last thing the creepy man said. She was seething beyond repair.

”no we aren’t open.”

”oh you're her partner?”

he eyed her up and down like he did you earlier.

Donna’s response to this was to start speaking tongues of obscure italian. literally cursing the man. Donna was not a witch but she was trying to cast imaginary spells.

to further sell her game she took out her large and intimidating garden pruning sheers and cut off a lock of his hair really quickly. Not before clutching and blowing the lock into his face further selling the gambit.

The gullible man's face was turning more and more pale and when the final move was cast his hands were shaking.

”w-witchcraft!!” He did not think twice about running away.

donna quickly walked up to you. Dropping the facade. Quickly taking up your hands into hers.

”are you okay mi amore?!”

”yes, thanks to you.” You smile was half amusement still remembering the display, and half adoration.

”im glad.” she brought her lips to your quickly, hoping to wipe the remainder of the man’s presence on your mind away.

”what were you going to get?”

”thats a secret. For now.”

”no fair you know i dont like secrets.”

”i know i know but im hoping youll be happy to see it.”

_____

“Are you sure we should go to our secret spot? It’s going to be super dark this time of night.”

”I promise it won't be that bad mi amore.”

Had it been anyone else you would have not believed them. You were heading to a secret alcove in the nearby park that Donna and your friends liked to hang out at but it didn't have much of a way of being illuminated in the dark, but you knew better.

”ok i trust you.”

Donna's response to this was to take your hand and begin racing towards the park pulling you along with her.

you two laughed along the whole way as if playing like children.

_____

When you arrived you didn't want to say it but youre were kinda right.

it was almost pitch black in the hide away and you couldn’t really see anything. Luckily; you could make out certain shapes enough to not fall or trip on anything. Not to mention you suddenly had no idea where Donna was.

”Donna?”

”right here mi amore” she was right behind you.

“What are we doing here today my love?”

”oh you'll see.”

Just like that the lights that had never been here before turned on. The alcove was beautifully decorated to yours and donnas personal tastes almost as if there was going to be a celebration of shorts set up with fairy lights set up with an extra table with Champaign.

before you could even ask what was going on, Donna got down on one knee.

your breath hitched.

”[y/n], will you marry me?”

Somehow you had managed to bring yourself to affirm that you would in-fact love to marry Donna through the shock.

“Yes! I would love to marry you!”

You two quickly brought each other's lips halfway to meet in the middle in union. savoring the moment between you two and the deep connection you shared. Donna smiled so widely when you finally parted that she had to cover her face a bit. A bad habit that she had not managed to nip that you found extremely cute.

”I love you donna.”

”and I love you more than you could ever know.”

[professional-sephiroth-scrungler]

Ok wild fuckass theory that probably works more as some type of fan fic AU or fix-it (loosely) and probably won’t happen but chekekfj

This is gonna be very rambly but bear with me

To me it seems that TFS and new details in Rebirth are setting up that Jenova is in more control than we previously thought. While I still believe there is some level of fucked up symbiosis, I question how much is actually Sephiroth (insane or not) and how much is Jenova. Would Jenova want revenge on Rufus for killing Glenn? Probably not because that is a very human, Sephiroth thing to want.

Jenova is a calamity that destroys worlds, we’ve known this since the OG and we’ve known that the Nibelheim Incident was because Sephiroth was rightfully angry, betrayed, and upset at what he had learned (false info but hey). In Rebirth we see it flashing between Sephiroth and Jenova, especially in the reactor where their faces are overlayed for a second. It makes me wonder, while Sephiroth was 100% having a mental breakdown, would he have killed and burned the entire village if it wasn’t for Jenova’s influence. In Crisis Core before leaving for Nibelheim, he was talking about deserting/leaving after this last mission. Without Jenova, i could see him wanting to get revenge on the people who wronged him, take down Shinra, and other such things. But since Jenova’s sole purpose is to be a world destroying calamity, she would twist that want of revenge on those people into just getting rid of all of it and become a god.

Side Tangent. I find the length of Sephiroth’s bangs to be important on telling what Sephiroth we are looking at (sane, short. insane, long) and Square seems to have just kinda forgotten about CC Seph having shorter bangs ig for optimization but it makes moments like in Chapter 8 of TFS confusing where we see very much sane Sephiroth from right before the CC era with long bangs and it cuts to Sephiroth with the same model, as far as i can tell, at the Edge of Creation. That leaves two options I can think of; 1: the Edge of Creation is a Jenova created sub space or mind space that she has been taking Sephiroth to and he has no idea wtf it is yet (unlikely). 2: That little scene was Sephiroth during the Remake Trilogy slowly gathering old memories and maybe even realizing that Jenova is in more control and influenced him more than he originally thought and is slowly regaining his identity. This feels more likely so thats what im gonna continue this rambling with. But please Square, you can sacrifice a few more megabytes to add another hair model to swap in.

Anyways, going with that Sephiroth is slowly remembering who he was, and how episode 1 of TFS seemed to be drawing some pretty harsh parallels between Sephiroth and Rosen plus everything they seem to be setting up with Jenova, i think Square is setting up a type of redemption for Sephiroth. It won’t be a true redemption but it would be something. The line from Rosen, “There is no place for me in your world,” feels very intentional and VERY Sephiroth. The parallels between Sephiroth and Rosen’s isolation and being trained from a young age to do one thing only for Sephiroth to kill him because Rosen feels that he can’t be a part of society feels like a set up for how Sephiroth’s story will ultimately end. If Cloud and crew somehow manage to separately Sephiroth from Jenova or something, there is no place for Sephiroth in the world anymore for very different reasons than Rosen. He’s killed, tortured, tried to end the world; no one would accept him after everything he did. Clearly, sane Sephiroth felt a lot of guilt over who he had killed and was trying his best to be the hero he never truly wanted to be to maybe right his wrongs. But if he gets his mind back, there is no righting the wrongs he had committed. There is no place for him anymore. He had been a dead man for 5 years anyways. The only thing he deserves is death and to finally join the Lifestream. The only catch is if Cloud can show the same empathy young Sephiroth did for Rosen. Any in the end, I think Cloud will be able to. In Advent Children, he showed some level of empathy and compassion for Kadaj in the end.

In the small snippet of Sephiroth we got in chapter 8 of TFS, he was thinking about how hate breeds more hate but compassion can end that cycle. And I think that is going to be the key to finally ending the cycle of FFVII.

[thisisnotkitty]

hello securitywaiter nation have you thought about ness being abby’s teacher bc I HAVE

below the cut because i can't shut up ever :D

-abby does well enough in school academically but is still needs some work in the socioemotional dept

-when she starts a new school year mike is a bit worried but then she comes back home absolutely ecstatic and mike is like “okay this is good”

-she talks all about how mr. ness lets her color while he teaches and how mr. ness gave them all name tags w silly drawings (hers is a bear) etc etc

-mike is actually really happy bc most teachers have a hard time understanding abby (heck, he has a hard time understanding her) so he’s looking forward to meeting this mr. ness during back to school night

-it goes on like this for awhile, with abby raving about mr. ness and mike is just happy that his little sister seems to be doing better in school. the first time she comes home talking about these kids she hung out with at recess he practically cries

-back to school night is here and the first time mike sees this mr. ness he’s like abby u traitor you didnt tell me this man was exactly my type (he doesn’t actually tell her bc he never brings up his lovelife around her - not that he’s had much of one - but still isn’t this the type of things siblings know intrinsically)

-anyways they’re having the kids show their guardians around the classroom and their seats and everything and then mr. ness is explaining the way his class works and mike is totally paying attention. yup. he’s not distracted by those chocolate brown eyes at ALL

-so they’re waiting to do the one-on-ones with the teacher and mike crouches down next to abby and tries to be all chill “hey, abs. has mr. ness ever mentioned a partner or anything?” acting all nonchalant

-but abby sees right through him and is immediately like “he’s single! do u want me to put in good word for you?” and mikes like “NO i have no idea what ur talking about haha i just wanted to know bc it’s important to know that about ur teachers okay wait why are you smiling like that”

-(abby’s a little menace and already ships it)

-when it’s finally their turn mike is just chanting to himself “be normal. be normal. be normal” lmao

-but now that he’s sitting face to face with the teacher he notices that he has freckles and every chance he had at playing it cool goes out the window

-ness is telling him all about how well abby is doing in class and if there was anything he could do to make it easier for her in the classroom and abby’s just sitting there looking at mike internally screaming with a smile

-so she turns to her teacher and is like “you should get mike’s number just in case something comes up. he’ll probably think of some things later since he’s been taking care of me alone for awhile” (bc u know when kids do that things where they kinda trauma dump at the most random moments lmao)

-and ness at first refuses and is like “im sure email works just fine!” and abby’s like WHYY is he not just taking the bait and then she has like a lightbulb moment

-bc ness probably assumes like everyone else that mike is a single father and abby’s his daughter and abby’s like oh no how do i make this work

-so she goes full anya mode (for my spy x family watchers) and is like “im sure mike would appreciate having your number on hand! he’s a very protective older brother you see. taking care of his little sister must be hard. i’m sure being a big brother like him is hard so it’d be for his peace of mind. did i mention he’s my older brother”

-and ness also has a little bit of a crush already forming so he doesn’t catch the obvious set up and is instead distracted by the fact that the handsome guy in front of him is in fact NOT a single father so maybe he does have a chance wowow

-yup so they exchange numbers andddddd ill come back to this later i really need coffee

[euphoric-daylight]

― Little Pest-!

[ For the people that are waiting for the drawings or memes, plz wait a bit more, My phone is too fucked up rn ]

Tintin and GN!Reader taking care of a Child

It all starts with a quiet day in Brussels, exactly on October 3 on a cold but calm morning, enough for the two to go together to have a coffee at that time

— I think I should visit my aunt, she has only just arrived in Brussels but she has been busy working

You speak with a soft and calm tone while drinking coffee to keep yourself active, Tin shows curiosity when hearing about your family, he really hadn't heard you talk much about them so he thinks it's a good idea to go and meet your family.

— Sounds perfect, anyway Haddock said he would be with Calculus taking care of his new roses

Tin spoke in a kind way but he really seemed enthusiastic, he wanted to make a good impression with your family.

The two arrive at the door of the house after a while, you knock firmly on the door……

The door is opened by a child of just 10 years old, who showed a grimace of disgust when he saw Tin, obviously he recognized you instantly and let you in but after you passed he closed the door on Tin in the house.

(Insert the name of the little monkey, idk, i hate that child, so im gonna put C!__ when the child's name is necessary)

— C!___-! What are you doing? That is my boyfriend!

You quickly open the door showing Tin's face, somewhat surprised by the child's behavior but also somewhat irritated although he does not want to accept it, he quickly manages to calm down and be more friendly because obviously he does not want to be rude to the child.

The child seems upset that you let the carrot head into his house, acting angry and obviously expressing his displeasure

— Why did you have to choose this red head as your boyfriend? Obviously you gave him a little scolding for being so rude to your boyfriend, so you got a little closer to him and told him.

—You shouldn't treat people who come to visit like that, Tintin didn't do anything to you, we just came to say hello to my aunt.

The boy found this news even worse, so he tried to pretend like he didn't care in the slightest, but the minute you left Tin alone, the boy returned from his room.

— You look strange, why are you so ugly and baby-faced?

Tin is slightly stoic about the situation, trying to remain calm and collected.

— I don't have a baby face.

Tin tries to look for you to get the boy to stop bothering him and end his patience right now, the boy is obviously still making mocking faces behind him.

— That's right, look for your partner like the fearful person you are.

The boy told him in a mocking manner while he was bothering Tin, trying to climb into his arms.

Tin finally thought that the boy was going to stop bothering him but he was wrong, with the boy being in his arms…. He pulls Tin's hair, making Tin quickly grab the boy by the hand to stop him from doing that

— You should behave better with someone older than you.

Tin spoke irritably, slightly biting his tongue to calm himself down a bit and quickly taking the child out of his arms making the child cry.

You were in the kitchen trying to cook something to eat for everyone while they wait for your aunt, when you hear the crying you quickly see what is happening.

— What happened??

You speak in a somewhat upset manner when you see the child crying and Tin with a slightly upset face

Tin takes a breath to calm down while you try to calm the child but he wouldn't stop crying.

— He hasn't stopped bothering me since we arrived.

You look at the boy with an irritated face upon hearing that while the boy quickly walks away knowing that you obviously knew the truth.

— Don't worry, sweetie…. My aunt said she won't be long to get home

Slowly you approach him to hug him in a friendly way, you can feel how his body slightly stops being tense and he tries to be calm, accompanying you to the kitchen and helping you cook.

You can see the boy peeking his head out from the door frame, you really didn't pay much attention.

After a few moments, Tin's hand slowly slides from your shoulder to your hip, caressing that part lovingly and giving you kisses on the cheek until C!__ pours water on both of them with a squirt gun to make them dry. separate

— Okay, I've had enough.

Tin quickly approaches C!___, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as if he were a cat, sitting him in a baby chair and putting the belt on him so he doesn't get out.

— Stay here.

Tin speaks coldly and quickly returns to your side, the two of you hear the door of the house opening.

Finally your aunt had arrived and the child tried to victimize himself by crying, at first it helped but you quickly explained what happened

bt: The child got kicked out from his house (jk) Sorry for no posting anything in a month, i was on a trip with my parents to have a breath from the problems but now i feel worse im sorry if i don't know how to make Tintin be more canon