#brainrot collision

[girlmikeyway]

if charlie dalton from dead poets society had been a teenager in the 2000s he would've been a pete wentz fanboy on a truly insufferable level. also for the record neil perry in the same era would be the ultimate ryan ross stan and beefing with people on livejournal about how pretty. odd. is good Actually you just don't get the deeper themes

[coquinaclutch]

[tinartss]

THE POT… THE POSE… I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE ‼️‼️ /pos

A PHANNIE…..yes😭💔 LOL i was so pleasantly surprised when at least one person on each of the platforms i posted it on got it though i guess that is the audience i have been cultivating with my dnp x haikavetham crossover shenanigans

[sunkendreams]

asking for some ethan landry smut ,,, I don’t care what you write but I need it! 🧎‍♀️

when the party’s over.

➾ pairing ; ethan landry x fem!reader.

in which you meet a cute boy at a college party and decide to have a little bit of fun behind closed doors.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), alcohol/drinking, typical college party antics, hooking up, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, virgin!ethan, making out, hair-pulling, groping, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), extreme horny antics, handjob (m!receiving), fingering, cumming together ;)), ethan has some dark/weird thoughts, cumplay, begging, dirty talk, ambiguous ending

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m suffering from chronic ethan landry brainrot :’) he’s so cute but unhinged/deranged and I love that !!! I love my men sexy and out for blood !! I am absolutely planning on writing a part two and/or more of him, this was so fun & horny (my favorite). I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

A homemade concoction of various alcohol stung your nose as you strolled past the kitchen, surrounded by a swarm of neon lights — vibrant shades of violet, green, and hot pink. The music blared all around you, bass booming hard enough to make your bones rattle.

Blackmore University was infamous for its chaotic parties and mixers that involved too much to drink and too many people — tonight was no exception. Halloween was right around the corner, and the party was lively with plenty of buzzed college students dressed in costumes.

The rest of your entourage had decided to be the fairies from Pixie Hollow. You hadn’t decided on a particular fairy, but you’d gotten a cute dress and trinkets to look the part. Your wings — cheap gossamer stretched over wire frames — were serviceable at best.

You came along with a group of your friends, but they scattered as soon as they walked through the door. You were left to your own devices, sipping on a hard lemonade with a sour expression. The alcohol tasted decent enough, but you were wary of getting intoxicated in unfamiliar locations.

Some radio-popular hip-hop song provided a steady ambiance as you traipsed through another hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sashaying junior.

The thick, heady scent of marijuana drifted throughout the frat house, accompanied by clouds of hazy smoke. As you passed by the staircase, there was a boy slumped to one side, puffing on a bong that seemed comically large. Typical college party antics, you assumed.

As you rounded the doorway, you slammed right into a boy who seemed just as startled as you were. The drink in your hand smashed into the cardboard chest piece he was wearing, exploding onto your silvery evening dress.

“S—Shit! I’m so sorry,” He stammered, fumbling over his words as he clamored to grab a towel or a rag — anything, really. He hastily decided on a throw blanket draped over the back of a leather couch, tossing it over the puddle of spilled alcohol. “I didn’t see you.”

Before you decided to admonish him for his carelessness, you realized that it wasn’t his fault — more of a joint mistake, really. “No, it’s fine! I should’ve been looking.” You replied, crouching down to help him clean up the mess.

The front of your pretty dress was now coated in a layer of sticky booze, clinging to your chest with an uncomfortable dampness. Unfortunately, you’d left your jacket back at your dormitory, riddled with a stain that would likely stay for the duration of the party.

When you finally got a look at your obstacle, you were delighted to find that he was cute — arguably the most attractive boy in the room. “I’m really sorry about your dress. I ruined your costume.” He frowned, brows furrowing together.

You realized that he was dressed as a Knight, armor meticulously crafted of intricate cardboard cutouts and patterns. “I think we ruined each other’s costumes.” You mused, gesturing toward the splotch of alcohol all over the front of his chest.

“This is going to the dumpster once the party ends, anyway.” He confessed, letting out a soft chuckle. Admittedly, it made you laugh, nose crinkling in amusement as you cleared your throat.

“Really? I think it looks great! You put a lot of effort into it.” That was true — it was a neat costume. You found it amusing that the knight and the fairy had run into one another, as if it were ripped from the pages of some gaudy romance novel.

“Thanks,” The boy chewed at the inside of his cheek, reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “You’re supposed to be a fairy, right? I noticed the wings, and the … Dress. Before I collided with you.” He was in awe of you, truly — you were absolutely gorgeous.

Part of him thought about staking out your dorm for later, but now wasn’t the time.

A familiar wave of heat washed over you, creeping into your features as you playfully spun around. Your glittering dress and cosmetics glistened in the lower light. “The rest of my friends came as the Pixie Hollow fairies. I couldn’t really decide on one, so I made my own.”

“Yeah, well you — You look really pretty.” He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to kick away that twinge of social anxiety. It was something he struggled with — he wasn’t nearly as outgoing or charismatic as his older brother.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” Bristling from his innocuous compliment, you stepped closer, attempting to close some of the distance between the both of you. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” You piped up, leaning against the doorframe.

Unable to keep from smiling, he stayed static, watching as you bridged the gap. “I’m Ethan, Ethan Landry. It’s nice to meet you.” His chest shook with a brief chuckle when you stuck out your hand for an exaggerated handshake.

“Ethan Landry,” You beamed, shaking his hand with excitable energy. After you gave him your name, the conversation only seemed to blossom from there. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What are you studying here at Blakemore?”

Ethan never had the best luck with women, especially ones as pretty as you. Not only that, but you had a whirlwind of charm to you, too. “Uh … I’m still deciding. Leaning toward film, though! What about you?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you.

“I’m also in the process of deciding. I’m trying to get my basic courses out of the way before I commit to something.” You chimed, sidestepping away from the swarm of rancorous students that began to pile into the living room.

With a constant grin, you peered toward the growing crowd of students dancing in the middle of the room. A fast-paced hip-hop song began to thrum over the speakers, filling the frat house with music.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, motioning toward the gathering in the center of the room. This was the one college party where you’d met a cute boy who seemed to take an interest — you weren’t about to squander it.

He seemed visibly hesitant, making a face that screamed ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea’. Ethan relented, deciding that taking a risk and spending more time with you would be worthwhile. “Just one. It’s getting pretty crazy in here.” He wasn’t much of a dancer, either.

“Just one!” You reaffirmed, snatching ahold of his hand as the two of you joined the mosh pit of students. Somewhere through the chaos, you ended up right against him, chest to chest, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was loud, so loud that it shook the very foundations of the building.

Ethan didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply mimicked some of your movements, entranced by the way you involuntarily pressed against him, a smile on your face, drifting off to the music. You grabbed one of his hands, prompting him to twirl you around.

“So what are you doing at this party? Did you come with friends?” You asked, practically yelling at Ethan as the two of you continued to dance. It was a little awkward, but he seemed engrossed, stooping down to give you an answer.

“Yeah! I came with some friends, and my roommate. They’re around here somewhere.” Ethan replied, grabbing you and pushing you aside to avoid being smacked by flying arms and stray bodies.

As Ethan briefly looked through the crowd, he noticed Chad somewhere on the other side, cheering him on with a toothy grin. It gave him a bit of a confidence boost, no matter how small it seemed to be. You were so beautiful, jubilant and vibrant, moving with the music.

The way he looked at you was mesmerizing, the stare of a charmed, smitten boy. You were the center of gravity, the sun — bright and shining just for him. Admittedly, you weren’t oblivious, and if it weren’t for the sea of people, you might’ve been emboldened enough to kiss him.

The music began to dissipate, song trailing off into the next track. “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?” Ethan asked, surprising you by being the first to make a move. You wondered if he really meant talking, but either way, you were happy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, reaching for his hand as he escorted you out of the dance room and toward the staircase. The two of you carefully avoided any stragglers slumped on the stairs, slipping past a gaggle of girls stumbling down from the bathroom.

Once you were upstairs, things became more hushed altogether. Even just standing on the balcony provided some relief as he ran a hand through his mop of curly hair, glancing down at you with a smile. “Is this better?” He asked, leaning against the bannister,

An amused chuckle escaped you as you nodded, tilting back against the wooden post at the top of the staircase. “Much better,” You mused, absentmindedly biting at your lower lip. “You know, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

Ethan’s countenance flushed from ivory to scarlet within the blink of an eye, throat becoming dry as he attempted to come up with some viable excuse. “It’s not that, I just — Shit. This isn’t what it looks like.” He groaned, feeling your hand slip around his.

“Ethan,” You murmured, canting your head to one side. “You need to stop psyching yourself out.” Another giggle left you, enough to reassure him, put his nerves to rest as you coaxed him closer. You tugged on his hand, leading him toward a room somewhere in the back hallway.

Wordlessly, you slipped inside, realizing that this was likely someone else’s room — one that was clearly unoccupied. It was all nondescript and outfitted with the bare essentials of a dorm, lights dimmed as you shut the door behind the both of you.

Your back gently pressed against the uncomfortable wood of the door as you latched it, ensuring that no one would be barging in anytime soon. Ethan appeared both excited and bewildered, chomping at the bit to finally touch a girl. He’d been lonely for so long — and now, fantasy was becoming reality.

“Are you sure? I — What if somebody hears us or comes knocking?” Ethan asked. In all actuality, he didn’t care whatsoever. He was aching, desperate to feel you and be inside of you, if you let him. The idea of losing his virginity to a beautiful girl at a party was enticing.

Neglecting to offer an answer to his constant string of worrying, you decided to change course. “Kiss me.” You whispered, feeling a pang of molten heat hit your stomach when Ethan practically pounced on you, lips messy and inexperienced as he kissed you.

The stiff cardboard of his helmet bumped into your face, causing you to giggle. Ethan became crimson-faced, swiftly tossing it behind him onto the gray carpet. Without hesitation, he grabbed your face, kissing you again with a low groan.

Music blared from downstairs, bass able to eclipse all of the noise emerging from the guest room. Your hands moved toward his shoulders, lips tangling with his as he readjusted his grip. Ethan’s palms sank into your soft curves, clutching at your hips above the dress.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Ethan mumbled, peering at you through his lashes. “I want to learn, though.” He wasn’t clueless — he’d watched things online before and indulged in the company of his right hand on multiple occasions.

Gentle laughter escaped you, accompanied by a twinge of understanding. “I don’t know if I wanna go all the way in the guest room of a frat house,” You mused, fingers shifting to rake through his hair. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not worried about it.”

Ethan relaxed, visibly reassured by your words before you tapped a nail against the cardboard cutout framing his chest. He got the hint, happy to be rid of the ridiculous costume. He didn’t care very much for it — you, on the other hand, looked ethereal.

Instead of you steering him around, he took ahold of your hands, coaxing you toward the unmade mattress. He had a vivid idea of what he wanted to do to you. Ethan watched with wide, desirous eyes as you sat down, flesh crawling with heat when he stood between your legs.

To your complete delight, Ethan sank down onto his knees, all six feet and two inches of him, hands gently caressing your legs. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing something right, yeah?” He prompted, sucking in a sharp breath when you kissed him.

He was tall, and you didn’t have to stoop very much at all to reach him, feeling his fingertips tease the hem of your dress. Your fingers scraped against the nape of his neck, pushing themselves throughout his mop of curly hair. The soft groan that escaped him made your heart flutter.

“I’ll tell you.” You murmured, watching as he sheepishly tilted inward for another kiss. Ethan’s hands began to creep underneath your dress at a snail’s pace, exploring every inch of you. You felt velveteen beneath his fingertips, like a fine silk.

“Can I take your dress off?” Ethan murmured, peering at you through thick eyelashes. His breath hitched within his throat as you reached toward your back, unzipping the shimmering garment.

You neglected to shimmy out of the snug fabric, letting it pool around your chest, instead. “All yours.” Your hand dipped toward the silvery straps around your ankles as you stepped out of your heels.

Ethan swallowed the lump of excitement that coalesced within the back of his throat, hands curling into the hem of your dress. Sluggishly, he began to coax the fabric down, mesmerized by the way you lifted your hips, wordlessly assisting him.

The thin straps of your lace brassiere clung to your chest, accompanied by a matching pair of panties. Ethan’s sigh was shaky, quivering with a tremor of delight as he grabbed your thighs, body pushing them apart.

“You’re so beautiful.” A low, throaty groan escaped him, lips agape as he pressed a kiss against your thigh. Even your smell was intoxicating, swarming his senses like a heady tidal wave. He didn’t know where to start, but he had an idea of what he wanted.

Swallowing his bout of nervousness, Ethan continued to kiss along your leg, feeling your fingers curl into his hair. The little tugs and motions you made only served to make his heart beat faster, goosebumps coalescing along his spine. His hands curled into the waistband of your panties, inching them down your legs.

You squirmed, chest fluttering with warmth as he looked to you for consent, skin flush with scarlet. “Please, Ethan.” Your hips jolted forward, aching for his mouth, fingers — anything that he was willing to give you. “Please keep going.”

Ethan loved that — he loved hearing you beg.

He wondered what it’d be like to make you cry, perhaps toy with you, knife in-hand, make you writhe. Some sinister part of him wanted to hear you say it again, and without thinking, his mouth moved before he could comprehend anything else.

“Say it again,” Ethan urged, chest rising and falling with soft pants as he clutched at your legs. The doe-eyed expression on your countenance only added fuel to the now-raging fire, and he watched with silent glee as you let out a soft whine. “Please.”

“Ethan, please,” Without hesitation, you pleaded with him, desperate for friction — for any shred of it. Your voice rose an octave, bleeding heat from between your legs. “Please, please,” You moaned, watching the way his pupils expanded with lust. “I want you — want your mouth.”

Despite his inexperience, Ethan was prepared to follow basic instinct, palms smoothing themselves along your thighs until he held your hips. His head dipped between your thighs, tongue sluggishly swiping along your cunt, familiarizing himself with your taste.

Your back arched, stomach swirling with an excitable heat as he took his time. There was something exploratory in-nature, a desire to savor you. His cock strained against the front of his jeans when your nails gently raked themselves over his dark curls.

He shuddered with delight, ministrations lacking any haste. Ethan went slow, almost painfully so, tongue dutifully lapping at your cunt as he kneaded into your hips. The sounds that escaped you were divine — intoxicating, really.

The bass of the music thundered underneath the both of you, and any footsteps that reverberated close by were met with indifference. He was buried between your legs, lips caressing your core as he traced along your slit. Your hips jolted forward, desperate for any scrap of friction he provided.

“Ethan,” You moaned, pleasantly surprised by how eager he was. A surge of molten heat coalesced within the pit of your stomach, churning with excitement and desire. You gingerly tugged at his curls, feeling his tongue sweep over your clit. “A—Ah! Right there!”

He paused, mouth clamoring to find that sweet spot of yours, feeling you steer him in the right direction. He lapped at your clit, cock throbbing with an urgency when you whimpered. Ethan hunched forward, gently placing one of your legs on his shoulder.

Ethan felt a newfound rush of confidence, skin hot and visage flushed as he ate you out, increasing his pace and intensity. It became somewhat sloppy, a mess of tongue and desperation, aroused by the noises that escaped you and the constant pressure of your hand in his hair.

What he wouldn’t give to watch you by yourself — a picture for later, or touching you while you slept. The thought of you beneath him, begging for more, tears in your eyes — he groaned, cock straining against the front of his jeans.

His heart hammered erratically, mirroring your own galloping heartbeat as he kissed your clit, tongue messily lapping wherever he could. You squirmed again whenever he touched that sensitive clutch of nerves, slumping backwards onto the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re addicting,” Ethan groaned, and that was enough to get you to whimper. You’d never been called that before, and the way he half-whined the words himself made your hips buck forward. “So pretty.” He whispered, nearly in disbelief as he lapped at your clit.

Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, lips agape as another moan tore past your mouth. He was working wonders, nails digging into your haunch, causing goosebumps to prickle along your thighs. “I want you to use your hand.” You sighed.

Ethan knew that he wouldn’t last long himself watching you, and when you sat up, he was scarlet-faced and visibly pained. “I—I’m sorry.” It was as if his confidence had shattered completely. He was a little embarrassed about how hard he’d gotten from this, but you seemed understanding.

“Come here,” You gestured toward the empty spot next to you, and Ethan quickly sat down. Without hesitation, your hands flew to his belt, unzipping his jeans as you reached into his boxers. “Together.”

His breath hitched within his throat as he ushered you into his lap, hovering above one of his thighs. Ethan kissed you, swallowing your needy moan in the process — you could taste yourself, the lewdness of it all. He didn’t need any guidance as he slid two fingers against your slick cunt.

It was instantaneous — the both of you were catching fire, succumbing to basic instinct and desire. You began to steadily stroke along his cock, thumb caressing the tip of his erection, oozing with precum. Ethan gasped, hips stuttering as he bucked into your palm.

Your body rolled into his hand, digits sluggishly seeking your entrance. You guided him there, noticing the way his gaze had flickered from your face to your body. You whimpered when he sank his fingers into your tight heat, pistoning in and out.

A string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his, but Ethan didn’t stop kissing you. They turned from gentle and exploratory to rough and wanton, tongue briefly tangling with yours.

Between the dimly-lit, sienna glow of the room and the thrum of the bass downstairs, you were lost in his touch, floating away into the blissful taste of his mouth. He was all around you and in your blood, like the surging of the music.

You didn’t stop whatsoever, palm slick with his precum as you pumped along the length of his cock, mesmerized by that glazed, lovestruck look in his eyes. You were wonderfully naive, oblivious to the hungering darkness and obsession that rested within Ethan’s pretty stare.

“I want you.” Ethan’s voice reverberated in between strings of heated kisses, sending a wave of heat all throughout your body. There was a stark juxtaposition between the meek, inexperienced boy and the darker, deeper tone he had just now.

You felt his desire seep into your very bones, rocking atop his thigh as his digits continued to piston in and out. Ethan was content to finger-fuck you into your orgasm, thumb seeking to toy with your clit. It caused you to gasp and shiver with delight, feeling his teeth momentarily catch your lower lip.

A soft, simpering whine left you, one hand digging into the nape of his neck as the other stroked along his cock. The intensity only continued to mount, rising like the swell of a tide. Ethan’s hips began to stutter as he let out a groan of his own, cumming into your palm.

It was messy, hot and sticky in glistening tendrils across your thigh, and you were right behind him. As you sank forward, he curled his fingers just slightly, sending you into the white-hot explosion of your release. There was a newfound spot on his jeans from where you’d been moments prior.

“Shit,” He huffed, somewhat abashed about making such a mess. His curls were disheveled, flesh shimmering with perspiration, face noticeably flushed. “Ah … Sorry.” Admittedly, Ethan loved the sight of you like this, stained with his seed, but he didn’t want to scare you off.

As you recuperated, you reached for your dress, unable to bite back the smitten smile on your features. “It’s okay,” You giggled. “I thought it was hot.” You confessed, using the spare t-shirt in your purse to clean yourself up. Something to throw in the washer, later.

Ethan blushed, clamoring to zip his jeans up as you shimmied back into your panties and dress. He noticed you struggling with the zipper towards the small of your back. “You need some help?” He asked, voice unusually soft as he stepped closer.

“Thank you,” The gesture was sweet, something that you didn’t expect. Regardless, you let him zip you back up, noticing the way he’d simply lingered close by as you buckled your heels around your ankles. “I should get going. I’m sure my friends are wondering where I am.”

“Wait,” Ethan’s hands involuntarily flew toward your hips, gently pulling you close. “I want to see you again.” Even if he had duplicitous methods of getting your phone number, he wanted this to be organic.

“Okay,” Despite having a hookup in the empty room of a frat house, you did want to see him again, too. He was painfully sweet — and that was hard to come by. “I want to see you again, too. Here.”

You wrote your number down on the cardboard chest-plate of his knight costume. He said he left his phone back at the dormitory — and you came prepared with the half-dried ink pen wasting away in the bottom of your purse.

By the time you and Ethan made it back out to the party, he was being hauled away by his friends, and you had found your group again.

If he had it his way, the next time you’d see him, you’d be at the end of his knife.

[furiarossa]

From the depth of the brainrot that we're having, with the support of some fellow Phans on Discord (you know who you are, you're amazing 💚), here's one of the recurring characters for the AU we have been working on! The alternative universe in question is named Phantom&Bloodstone and is, of course, a creative collision with Steven Universe.

"Maddiedot" is the Peridot in charge of the scientific equipe studying gem-human hybridization; she actually just "stole" Maddie's appearance after being poofed by Maddie herself, who thought the little green gal was a ghost. A lot of things are happening in this AU already XD

[Oh, and a lot more of our Danny Phantom fanarts: Here’s our tag ]

★ FurAffinity|Deviantart|Commission prices|Tapas|Pillowfort★

[ymiwritesstuff]

Watchful Eye

Dude I had to write for Majima again the brainrot is real LMAO this one I was inspired by one of the substories in 0, the one with the doll girl because AAA that one is so cute and wholesome I love dadjima. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Yakuza 0

Goro Majima x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: It was but a mere coincidence, he had been at the right place at the right time, and soon he found himself silently watching over a small child who got attached to him quite quickly.

Notes: Fluff, mentions of bullying, DADJIMA

Also posted on AO3!

It had started out as another of Sotenbori’s random encounters, the ones you’d see on the side of the road, or in secluded alleyways. Mundane and standard for the city. That’s how he would describe it. Majima had seen his fair share of these incidental and banal meetings with the locals, but none had stuck to him as much as this one.

He did not exactly intend to venture to the area next to the small park for a smoke that day, it had just happened while he was buried in his thoughts. Something had weighed heavy in his mind, though he had long forgotten what it was. The only significant thing he remembered from that day was that peculiar encounter.

The little girl had bumped into him suddenly and the collision pulled him away from his thoughts. It had startled him slightly and despite the child obviously not noticing this, she was quick to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Mister.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, kiddo.”

He had expected the girl to run along and continue with whatever she was doing but soon noticed her looking up at him, shifting her weight between her feet. That prompted Majima to look around the park, only to find it rather empty.

“Where’s yer mom?”

The girl’s company hadn’t made him uncomfortable per se, he could even say that it alleviated some of the load on his shoulders and mind, but he had also been painfully aware of how he and his rough appearance might have earned him some dirty looks from possible onlookers. A man who looked like a yakuza hanging out with a girl who seemed barely ten years of age? Yeah, he would rather play it safe and avoid conflict.

She hadn’t seemed scared though.

“She’s at work,” She chirped and glanced behind her. “But she should be back soon!”

Majima had given her a hum at that. It was not a terribly unusual occurrence. One could see children by their lonesomes all over the city. Parents worked hard to maintain a stable life and income for the sake of their kids. Still, the sun was steadily disappearing behind the horizon, it would be dark soon.

“Ya got friends around here or somethin’?”

The girl shook her head, eyes falling to the ground beneath her small feet. “All my friends went home after school and I came here to wait for mommy.” Her eyes shifted towards the empty swings and benches, her smile vanishing the tiniest amount. “Usually there are other kids here too...”

Majima sighed softly. So this was a part of her regular daily routine. Poor kid, he had thought. He could only hope that her mother would return soon.

Upon taking another drag on his cigarette, the girl looked up at him again with furrowed brows and a pout upon her lips.

“Mommy says smoking is bad for you…”

Her words had been unexpected, and the bluntness of them caught him off guard as he found himself looking down at the child.

“Ya better listen to your mom then, kid.” He gave the cigarette between his fingers a glance. “She’s right, ya know.”

“Then why do you do it, Mister?”

He turned to the girl once more, her innocent question floating in his head for a bit as he tried to look for an answer that would make sense for a youngster her age. He found none.

“I dunno. Guess it’s just a habit…” Majima twirled the cigarette between his fingers, keeping his attentive eye on it.

His bland reply earned him a huff from the kid who quickly crossed her arms. “You should stop doing that, Mister. It’ll make your lungs as dark as your hair!”

Majima could not help but chuckle, the amusement caused by her scolding lifting his spirits far more than expected. He flicked the half-burnt cigarette away, to which the girl in front of him smiled brightly.

The Lord of the Night quickly dawned an exaggerated expression of shock, one that the child could latch onto and hopefully shift the tone of the conversation to something more lighthearted.

“Say whaaat? But my hair’s kinda cool, don’t ya think?” He ran his palms pompously over his head and neatly tied locks as he spoke. “Would be even cooler if my airbags matched.”

He was fully aware of how ridiculous he must have seemed, but hearing the giggles that flew out of the little girl’s mouth more than made up for that. It was but a small expression of joy, but Majima was happy to see it.

“You are so silly, Mister.”

Majima had been quite surprised at the girl’s friendly nature towards him. He had never expected anyone, let alone children to interact with him so casually. There was no fear or uncertainty in her shining eyes, only curiosity in its purest form one would expect from a child. She wasn’t wary of him, nor did she judge him with her gaze or her words. She must have been raised right.

“Hinami-chan!”

Both of them looked toward the direction where the unknown voice came from, though it did not take long for either of them to realize the identity of the person standing a few feet away from them.

“Mommy!”

The girl had begun running towards her mother, only to stop after a few steps to turn back to Majima with the widest smile on her face.

“Bye bye, Mister!!”

She had waved at him and continued her journey into her mother’s welcoming arms. The two adults exchanged brief glances, and Majima was surprised to meet with a neutral gaze, rather than a suspicious one. He had given a nod before leaving the park behind.

“Who was that, sweetie?” You had asked your daughter as she hugged you, the image of the man freshly planted in your mind. His appearance was striking, but he did not seem threatening and your daughter certainly didn’t seem to be frightened by him.

Hinami giggled playfully and looked up at you. “A friend.”

And that’s how it began. Majima found himself returning to the park, or at least the area relatively close to it. It was not completely intentional, the first few times had been a mere coincidence, something work-related, and every time he would catch a glimpse of the girl, sometimes accompanied by her mother. Sometimes the child noticed and waved, other times she was too occupied with playing.

Majima did not go out of his way to talk to her though, despite his short visits to the park becoming somewhat frequent. He still played by his own unwritten rule, one of them being don’t get innocents involved. Majima was constantly watched, and his stay in Sotenbori was so heavily monitored that he did not want to befriend too many locals, lest they get tangled in the predicament he was in.

That however changed one day when the park had been a bit more lively.

Majima had initially thought Hinami had been playing with friends from school, but mere seconds of listening to the harsh voices and laughs was more than enough to tell him what it actually was. The poor girl was getting bullied by her peers.

He had been quick to step in, his stern scowl being all it took for the boys surrounding the defenseless girl to go running off, fearful exclamations flying from their mouths. After muttering something under his breath, he turned to Hinami.

“Ya okay, kiddo?”

“I am. Thank you, Mister!”

After that, he returned often, even telling you about the bullying incident when he got the chance. You had been grateful that he had intervened and given him your thanks. You worked late and often worried for your daughter. Hinami was smart and independent for her age, but at the cost of you not being able to be there for her when she might have needed it. In that regard, someone like him was a blessing.

You began seeing him more and more often when you went to pick up your girl. He sat on one of the benches, keeping his watchful eye on Hinami. It brought you relief, knowing that someone was watching over her whilst you were gone, and as time went on, you got to know him a bit better.

Despite what his outward appearance would suggest, you soon found out just how gentle of a man lay behind it. From his eye that was softly framed whenever he looked out for your daughter to the way he would kindly greet you when you arrived and promptly excuse himself soon after, all of it told gave you a good idea of what kind of a person he was. 

He never stayed for too much chitchat, you knew his name, but not much else. You were sure he had his reasons, but a part of you could not help but be curious. He got along with Hinami unbelievably well, and she seemed to like him. It warmed your heart.

“Can I really have this???” Hinami asked, eyes sparkling in awe as she held the stuffed toy in her hands.

“Of course, ya can. I got it for you specifically,” Majima replied, recalling his haphazard visit to the arcade. He had wanted to try his luck with one of those cursed claw machines and managed to win a plushie after a few dozen tries. His wallet was scarred, but the girl was smiling.

“I hope your mom don’t mind the new friend ya got, though,” he muttered as Hinami sat next to him on the bench, holding the stuffed animal in a firm embrace. Truthfully, ever since he had won the silly game he wondered if he was close to stepping over a line that would get himself too involved in their life.

“Don’t worry, Mister.” Hinami turned to him, that bright smile of hers more apparent than ever. “I got it from you!”

Majima quirked an eyebrow at that.

“Hey, hey. What’s that s’posed to mean, Hinami-chan?”

His inquiry was not a serious one, but once he heard the impish giggles that bubbled from her and the way she excitedly kicked her feet, he felt something on his side. Now he was curious.

“Well… Don’t tell mommy I told you this but,” With her hand, she motioned for him to bring his head lower so he could hear her secretive whispers.

“She thinks you’re really handsome.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Majima’s chest tightened and his remaining eye widened. For a brief second, he wasn’t certain he had heard the girl correctly. 

“Huuh?? Whaddya mean, Hinami-chan??”

She giggled once more and hopped off the bench, strutting in front of the slightly flustered man, clutching her new toy. “She said so! I heard her! Mommy has also been smiling a lot recently.”

Majima could only blink silently as he listened to her, still somewhat shocked at the words he was hearing. Even a damn idiot could understand the meaning behind them, and immediately some logical part of him wondered if the line of privacy he had been so careful of had been rudely crossed, but that thought did not linger for long. Not when he looked at the overjoyed girl in front of him. He let out a laugh.

“That so?” Hinami nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep!” Her expression quickly abandoned all of its brightness and became deadly serious, it was almost frightening. “But you absolutely cannot tell her that I told you!!”

The young girl's stare was so intense that the pledge left his mouth almost too fast.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell a soul, okay?”

Hinami, seemingly not satisfied with mere words, then lifted her pinky up and brought her hand to him. After a moment of silence, she spoke:

“You have to promise, Mister. Otherwise, it doesn’t count!” She announced curtly.

Shaking his head out of sheer amusement, he chuckled and leaned forward, gingerly wrapping his pinky around her tiny one.

“I promise ya, Hinami-chan. It’ll be our secret, all right?”

The girl gave him a single nod as she retreated her hand, before running off to the swings with her plush toy. Majima kept his eye on her and leaned back lazily, lightly smiling to himself as the routine that he had gotten fairly used to continued its course.

Majima’s sharp ears caught the approaching footsteps when you finally arrived, but your daughter was too occupied with playing to notice you stepping behind the bench on which the man that had kept your child company these past weeks sat. Your eyes met, and you gave him a smile.

“She looks quite busy,” you commented, pointing to the direction of your daughter with your gaze, which made Majima let out a short chuckle.

“That she is. Hope ya don’t mind the little present I gave her.” He turned his head to look at you, only to be met with an expression that to him looked peaceful, content with the present moment.

“Not at all. She clearly loves her new friend.” Majima hummed in agreement. Even from far away, he could see the cheerful grin on her face and it coated his insides in a warm radiance he rarely felt. She resembled you, something he had noticed the more time had gone by. He was certain Hinami had inherited your smile.

Your eyes wandered to the mysterious man you know so little about, and once again, curiosity poked at you. He did so much for you only by keeping your young child company when you couldn’t. It was out of the goodness of his heart, something you never would have guessed had you met under different circumstances. 

You recalled the times Hinami would ask if the nice man with the eyepatch would be waiting for her after school, and each time you replied that you didn’t know. Yet he had been there, every time since the bullying incident. 

And you had never managed to thank him properly.

“I better get goin’,” he suddenly said and stood up. You immediately knew what it meant, it was all too familiar. This time though, you stopped him from leaving prematurely, not before giving him your gratitude.

“Majima-san,” you called out, which stopped him in his tracks. He turned to you, a puzzled look upon his tired face for you had never delayed his departure. In truth, you had never been fast or brave enough.

“I… I just wanted to thank you. For everything.” The way your words came out was far from effortless, they almost got stuck in your throat. Had you been more astute, you may have noticed your increasing heart rate.

Majima turned to you fully, staying silent as you continued.

“Hinami talks about you every day, and to be completely honest,” you gave your precious daughter a glance, your heart fluttering at the sight of her, lost in her own little world. With a sigh, you looked at Majima once more.

“She needs someone like you.”

Majima’s eye softened. He immediately understood what your words were insinuating. Perhaps he had subconsciously always known it. You were always the one to pick her up, and Hinami only ever talked about ‘mommy’, it did not take a genius to put the pieces together. Though Majima himself never saw himself as the fatherly type, he was glad he was able to bring some joy into your daughter’s life.

“She’s a joy to be around,” he admitted in a low voice while turning his head toward her. “A real ray of sunshine, that one.” His words warmed your heart, but his gaze hardened and his eyebrows frowned.

“But I can’t be doin’ this forever, as fun as it is.” Majima hated to say those words, but he also could not deny the fact that he would not be staying in Sotenbori any longer than he had to. The city was his cage, a reminder of his mistakes, and anyone who got too close to him could be in danger. It was the last thing he wanted.

You gave him an understanding nod, noting the way his tense shoulders seemed to relax at your gesture. “And I won’t ask you to. I just wanted to let you know how much this all means to her and me. So, truly,” you bowed down slightly.

“Thank you, Majima-san.”

Majima noticed how soft your voice had become as you expressed your gratitude. It gave him an uncomfortable tingle in his core. He hadn’t expected his actions to be this meaningful to someone. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“It’s nothin’, really. Your little girl’s been great company, ya raised her well.”

You muttered a quick thank you once more as you straightened yourself. Majima looked at you fondly, his kind stare washing away all the stress you may have felt from work. There was a comfortable silence as the two of you silently looked at each other. For the first time, you noticed the small details of his face, from his faint dark circles to his cleanly shaved chin.

You wondered how he lost his eye, where he worked, and how he managed to keep his raven locks in such a neat ponytail. The mystery surrounding the man was killing you and the thoughts that roamed in your head gave you the courage to open your mouth.

“Still, I want to thank you properly, Majima-san,” you began, taking a few steps toward him. You took a breath to calm your nerves.

“Would you join me for dinner sometime?” Once the question was launched into the air, you immediately felt like a weight had disappeared from your shoulders, though you would still need to wait for his answer.

The proposal drifted in his mind for a moment and he thought back to the words spoken to him earlier by Hinami. Ones he had sworn to keep a secret. Though he had initially thought they were a product of her imagination, the way you carefully voiced your question made him doubt it. Whether it was only a way for you to express your appreciation, or something more, he was intrigued and found it difficult to refuse.

“Sure thing. That sure seems like good compensation for lookin’ out for the little rascal,” he joked, which eased some of the tension in your being and prompted you to laugh slightly.

“Sounds great.”

Your smile lingered as Hinami finally noticed you and began to run toward you as she always did, eager to show off her new toy given to him by the kind one-eyed man.

~

Support me on ko-fi!❤️

[yotsubaclover]

brainrot collision moment

[hervygervy]

I Reached the Bottom of the Barrel of Brainrot

So @mikubilliards and I were discussing Xenoblade Chronicles 3, as we tend to do, and I came upon this dumb revelation:

Discord cropping is cramping my mojo, so I'll spell it out and say that the two characters depicted are Z from Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and Hikawa from Shin Megami Tensei III Nocturne. I drew the really basic connection of both being characters with the goal of creating a world of stagnation, but, in truth, they don't exactly see eye to eye.

First let's talk about Z. But talking about him means dumping some lore for context. I'll do my best to simplify it. Obviously, major spoilers ahead.

So, basically, Melia from Xenoblade Chronicles and Nia from Xenoblade Chronicles 2 both realize that their respective universes of Bionis and Alrest are on a direct collision course. For a brief moment, the universes do combine, but as the universes get ever closer, demise was inevitable. Communicating through light (yes, really), they devise a plan to safely store everyone's souls in this system called Origin so they can prevent said collision. But, this process resulted in all the doubts and worries of the people of both worlds to accumulate en masse, manifesting as Z, who hijacked Origin and stabilized the brief moment of universe combination as Aionios. In other words, as the embodiment of people's fear of change, he preserved the brief fusion of worlds so that it would not have to change and separate. But an unchanging world can get quite boring, so to entertain himself, he used the souls stored in Origin as framework for soldiers split into two opposing factions, which would fight, kill each other, and reincarnate to continue fighting for all eternity. A few standout individuals were chosen by Z to be gifted eternal life fueled by the killing of others, giving some purpose to the fighting. Z's the reason why the game happens. That's the gist, anyway.

He's not really a "person" in the way we understand it, but more of a concept in corporeal form. Even Melia describes him as such. He's a rather emotionless entity working purely to ease the doubts and fears he was born from by preserving what he calls the "endless now," all the staving off boredom by watching the entertaining drama caused by his fabricated war in the comfort of an amphitheater.

Z does indeed strive to create a world of stagnation, and succeeded in doing so, but his world is one that can still provide him with thrills. This is where he and Hikawa differ on their ideal world.

Now onto Hikawa. Time for another infodump. Much of this information is conveyed pretty early in the game, but the nitty gritty is revealed later on, so mild spoilers for Shin Megami Tensei III Nocturne ahead.

Much like Z, Hikawa was a rather emotionless individual with lofty goals of creating his ideal world. For that purpose, he joined the Cult of Gaea, a group of people brought together under the belief that mankind should live in anarchic freedom. They met in a hospital in Shinjuku, Tokyo, doing typical occult things that you'd expect. But in reality, he was only there to look into their sacred artifacts, namely the Scripture of Miroku, a prophetic book which tells the secrets of the world, namely for its fate to be destroyed and reborn anew according to a chosen one's reason. Thus, he conceives the reason of Shijima and begins to meticulously craft plans to kickstart the current world's destruction to pave way for his ideal world--a world in which mankind would be without passion or desire, a world of stagnation and silence, a world where individuality is eradicated and everyone lives as one with the universe. Considering his beliefs that the passions and whims of man were a burden (pretty antithetical to anarchic freedom), he was seen as a heretic among his fellow cultists. He even caught the attention of an opposing cult, that being the Order of Messiah. Both cults aimed to stop his plans of instigating the apocalypse, but, being a meticulous planner, he manages to get his way and kills anyone who stands in his way, offering them as sacrifice to hasten the arrival of the apocalypse. Ultimately, he succeeds in destroying the current world. Otherwise, how else does the game happen? But whether or not he actually succeeds in creating his world of stagnation is dependent on if the player chooses to respond positively to his questions and thus uphold his reason.

Both characters desire a world devoid of change and progress, but how it actually manifests is where the two truly differ. Z merely wants to uphold the status quo created by the brief fusion of Bionis and Alrest, fabricating an endless war to do so and recruiting special individuals to ensure eternal fighting. His world of stagnation is brought about by preventing change from ever occurring by forcing everyone to fixate on a pointless war. Hikawa's world of stagnation meanwhile prevents change from occurring by eliminating passion and desire, and by proxy a desire for change. In the world of Shijima, the individual does not exist and is merely part of a collective, one with the universe, at peace.

So really, in the end, my little haha Discord funny moment was utterly worthless, but a fun thought nonetheless.

[pricegouge]

Obviously, the horror doc everyone wants to know about: The Haul. What prompted it? Was it an idle thought that spawned into more?

Hi hi thank youuu💛

Oh boy, def an idle (🥁) (that was weak don't laugh at that) thought! Buckle up it's a long one and I'm gonna ramble

Okay so first something about me is I watch wayyyyy more movies than I do read books and it's def changed the way I think up/plan out/visualize/execute fics. Moving on.

As a ne'er-do-well teen, I always weaseled my way out of flashing/streaking dares by joking about like "I've seen that movie before/that's how you get a machete in your skull" kinda stuff and I always thought it would make a good-bad schlocky movie to just cut the bullshit of a slasher out and have the teens straight up earn their death cause they flashed him. Simple as. Anyway at some point there was a headlong collision between that idea and the "flash a trucker" joke so then I had slasher truckers on the mind for like. Years. but it was still goofy, campy fun every time I pictured the premise so it wasn't something I actually felt genuinely inspired by

Then my commute doubled in length and I was subjected to the mortifying reality of driving next to big fuckin trucks every morning in a car the size of a roller skate and killer truckers got more real so I started watching more road horror movies like Duel and Breakdown and the way I pictured the premise got way more real/inspiring. So just add 141 brainrot and then we were really cooking

[splatperson]

recent stuff i did most of it unfinished cuz i suck

two of these are rp related uhhh(collisions rp brainrot is real even tho its dead)

also i swear ill draw dungeon meshi stuff just let me be silly over the characters i made for it

[debbiechanclub]

How's the new brainrot treating you tonight?

It's only growing. I'm probably going to watch Collision tomorrow 😅

[collisvng]

han jisung brainrot gettin real bad lately (i'm listening to collision and crying) but it's all good

[creabirds]

I saw Sebchal and I am here to provide. Not quite sure what you mean by controversies so I provided a range:

- Bahrain 2019 where post-race, Seb comforted Charles for losing out on his first win in the last laps. It spawned that picture of Seb cradling Charles’ cheek that belongs in a museum

- Singapore 2019 is actually perfect for the abo verse purposes because it was a VET-LEC-VER podium. Tension between Sebchal because Ferrari let Seb take the win over Charles but they also ignored Max to spray each other with champagne on the podium.

- Brazil 2019 where Seb and Charles crashed each other out if you want controversy in the purest form of the word

- Silverstone 2019 would also be hilarious cuz Seb rear ended Max and cost Max a podium- If Charles were to be comforting Seb (Seb dropped to 15th? because of the penalty from the collision) over Max post-race that would be a perfect scenario

hope i got it right that you wanted races and not PR content!

both are fine but tysm!!! also idk why i said controversies i meant moments in general the brainrot is getting to me

BUT WILL TREASURE THIS ASK !

[ronqueesha]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙄𝘾 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀

@katsigian tagged me for this, and it was such a fun quiz!

Quiz here!

Since the Sarit brainrot still has a strong grip in my brain, that's who I answered for.

CUPID'S BROTHER You have been love adjacent all your life. The faint spill of another story that softly grazed your shoulders when stood too close. Whether by design or not, you have yet to build a clear image of what love means to you. The interlocked weaving of a picture locket bound to strand of hair when hugged to tight, the sunpatch that meets your soles in glaring sun dried fields when running with a friend. You are not far from love, but moving between line of collision and avoidance at all times. A faint glimmer on sea lake surface of what could be. There is time to find what you want, find whether it's enough as is. Love is in you, breathing in another day. Continue as you are, realizing the love that is slowly blossoming in your life as it sharpens and clears in brushstrokes.

Such poetic accuracy! Sarit was aware of love as an academic concept, after a lifetime of consuming media and studying human behavior as part of her mad science pursuits. But she had convinced herself that love was not going to be part of her life. She let herself be lonely, because she thought no one would truly understand her goals. Or perhaps she told herself she deserved loneliness because of those goals...

Tagging: @arcandoria, @baldursghaik, @order-of-the-eye, @ziraseal

[gubbles-owo]

Looking forward to Super Manticore Ball coming from the marble experiment. "Hold still to become invisible" would even work well as an integral mechanic!

keeping the marble still... in a marble maze game.... the ultimate test of skill, on god..., Y'know, I haven't really thought about the context of marble game much yet. Right now it's just a wooden board with a metal marble (the reflective metal is just an excuse to get away with a single billboarded sprite :3c), but it'd be cool to switch up the context... maybe it's an intricate key to unlocking a device, or perhaps you're just rolling a pillbug around in a shoebox. Typically I'll go into something with a pretty solid idea of how I want to present it, but since the aim largely amounts to a vague "get a Thing working on the N64", I haven't really given the presentation much thought. The only question in my mind as of late is "how in the h*ck do i handle collision" (there's no "game engine" here so I get to figure out how to program that from scratch, yay yippee!!) Similarly I also haven't thought much about the end goal of the Manticore model... again it's primarily an exercise to learn how to model a character that looks halfway decent. I've got OCs, sure, but no visual reference for them (at least I can't draw much myself nor afford commissions of em atm). And god the visual reference helps soooo so much when it comes to working out the shape of a thing in 3D space. So the ongoing hyperfixation brainrot of a particular Arknights character-- one that has both official reference art and a bunch of fanart-- seemed like a natural choice of subject xD

But if I can be brutally real about it... I don't think the model is gonna suit itself to *actually* run well on the N64. It's still fairly dense in terms of tri count, especially in the head/face area, like augh look how much is going on here. And for the love of all that is unholy I do not know how to model low poly hair. It's either an awkward clump of too much geometry-- something more reminiscent of 6th gen than 5th-- or it looks real flat and lifeless, with that perfect middle ground always escaping my grasp. Maybe someday I'll crack that code, but I have the sneaking suspicion that the character has to be designed with these limitations in mind from the outset. or maybe that's just an excuse for not knowing much lol I could potentially slap her in marble game if I can manage to think up a context that works... I'll have to let my brain sit on the whole presentation thing while I whittle away at optimizations and physics nonsense. Mark my words, whatever I wind up doing with the Manticore model... it's gonna be yuri.

[warrenwaskilledbyadeer]

I won't tag this with the fandom's tags 'cause it probably won't make sense to anyone but me but I am going to attempt to put my Daniel and Elise brainrot thoughts into words

Everyone who's in the Amnesia fandom has one specific aspect of one of the games that they particularly fixate on I've noticed, like there's one thing more than everything else that just really catches your fancy and takes your breath away about these games

For me that one thing is Daniel and Elise obviously hehe

There are so many parallels to be had with them that just eat away at my soul and so much potential with her haunting him that makes my brain go OFF but my thoughts about them have gone down so deep at this point that they have gained a consciousness of their own and I've lost all control of where it's taken me

But here's the long and short of it

I feel like Daniel and Elise's fates are on an inextricable collision course that cannot be stopped. Like. And again these are just my own personal thoughts but no matter what version of them it is, what timeline in the game or what AU, their destinies are entwined and there is nothing either of them can do about it no matter how hard they try (and they have, trust me)

And Daniel always ruins her life too. Without fail. Most of the time it's by killing her but in a couple of AUs she doesn't die but her life is still ruined and they're still bound together from that time on. The part that makes it the worst (which makes it the BEST) is how perfectly suited they were to be friends, with their backstories and personalities being so similar, but they can n e v e r be friends, because of his actions. The most they ever achieve is strained tolerance.

I also have this thought that Daniel was placed by fate in the castle so that he would be able to save Elise and he went not only against God and man but their destiny itself by killing her instead

So yeah. They're intrinsically connected. They're inescapably linked together for forever even before they meet and they have no idea. This is why I tagged them as this one tumblr post I saw that said, "Not romantic connection or platonic connection but a secret third option (like stray cats that have bonded together and now can't be separated)" LIKE YEP that's them, they're stuck in this hell together so might as well assist each other in sticking it out

That's also why I think Elise wants to see Daniel redeem himself, 'cause if she has to be around him forever she'd rather he be doing something good than just going around being a psycho

Okay so apparently I could find the words to explain it 😂 don't know if it makes any sense outside of my head though but I hope my few Amnesia followers enjoy the thought 'cause this is my entire personality since playing this game