#finally decided to make a hardcore design for him

[shblackwoodart]

back to my bullshit (yassifying philza minecraft)

[austinbutlerslovers]

Silk & Silence 

Label Mature 18+

Summary After your celebratory anniversary takes a dark turn, you press Patrick to finally commit to marriage—but his chilling reaction leaves you speechless.

⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️  Patrick having a mental break • toxic relationship dynamics •power play• name calling •gagged with a silk tie• retrained with a belt• edging • sweet talk • dirty talk •coercion• orgasms used as leverage nipple play • fingering • clit play• bj infront of a mirror•sex in front of a mirror •Patrick reaching climax seeing the reflection • orgasms •cream pie • mild aftercare

Proofreader @purejasmine 🎊 🥂 Happy New Year 🥂 🎊

Silk & Silence

The restaurant is a masterpiece of modern Manhattan opulence. Sleek marble floors gleam under chandeliers that sparkle like falling stars, while waiters glide between tables dressed in sharp black and white uniforms.

Your handsome fiancé Patrick sits across from you in the corner booth, the epitome of control.

His designer suit is tailored to perfection as he taps a manicured finger against the stem of his martini glass. His expression is distant as you finish a story about a mutual friend.

“And then she decided to wear that dress—can you believe it?” you say with a giddy laugh, leaning back against the booth.

Patrick’s sharp gaze flicks to you, his jaw tightening slightly.

-Her voice sometimes. The pitch, the arrogance of her laughter, but the way she looks sitting there…

His eyes wander as he studies your appearance. You are flawless, a trophy of the same elite world he navigates with ease, a reflection of his own carefully curated image.

His eyes fall to the Tiffany bracelet on your wrist catching the light, a shimmering token of his devotion tonight—or at least his obligation.

The Valentino dress he purchased for the occasion accentuates your body to perfection, custom-tailored especially for you—which, of course, it was.

Nothing but the best for his princess.

But then his gaze suddenly hardens, as if some unpleasant thought has resurfaced.

-Why does she care so much about things that don’t matter? The incessant talking—details, plans, nonsense—it’s exhausting.

“Patrick you even listening to me?” you ask, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice.

He blinks slowly, setting his glass down with deliberate precision. “Of course I’m listening,” he says evenly, though his voice carries a thin edge of mockery. “It’s just riveting to hear yet another story about someone’s poor fashion choices.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why do you have to be like that Patrick?”

“Like what?” He tilts his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Honest?”

“Patrick, you’re impossible sometimes,” you snap, crossing your arms. “You act like you’re above everyone. Even me.”

His smirk fades slightly, replaced by a calculating expression his eyes sharp and unrelenting. “If you’re so miserable with me,” he says quietly, his tone calm but dangerous, “then why are you still here?”

You open your mouth to retort, but his words cut deeper than you expected. The tension between you is undeniable, and the hum of conversations in the restaurant around you suddenly feels oppressive.

Tears well in your eyes as you frown, struggling to mask the hurt. You love him and you don’t understand why at times he has to be so cold.

You let out a huff, your emotions threatening to spill over as you fan back unshed tears with dramatic flicks of your manicured hands.

“I went through so much to look perfect for you tonight, Patrick,” you whisper sharply, your tone petulant, laced with just enough hurt to demand his attention.

Patrick exhales slowly, his gaze darting around the restaurant before leaning forward, his voice smooth and controlled.

“Let’s not make a scene here,” he says, his tone low and deceptively soft as his sharp gaze locks onto yours radiating a silent command of obedience.

He signals the waiter with a simple raise of his hand, and within moments, the check is handled, his black AmEx card gliding across the table. You barely have time to protest before he stands, buttoning his suit jacket.

“Let’s go,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The sleek black limo idles on a quiet side street not far from the elite restaurant. Patrick slides into the seat beside you his posture controlled as he adjusts the cuffs of his jacket.

“You didn’t have to be so rude on our anniversary, Patrick,” you say, your voice tinged with frustration as you glance at him, your arms crossed as your lips form a slight pout. “I just want us to enjoy the evening. To be together. Isn’t that what tonight is supposed to be about?” you ask sweetly, hoping to soften the tension.

Patrick doesn’t respond. He gazes out the window, his expression unchanging as the city lights blur past, casting sharp, angular shadows across his flawless face.

You try again, undeterred, launching into a topic you’re sure will catch his attention, your voice bright and animated as you attempt to regain his favor.

“Now that it’s our one-year anniversary, we should definitely hire the planner and finalize our guest list,” you say, smiling as your fingers brush lightly against his arm. “Everyone who’s anyone will want to attend. It’s going to be the event of the year,” you continue, your tone brimming with enthusiasm, completely immersed in the vision of grandeur.

Patrick listens with a vacant expression, though his mind is anything but.

-She never stops. She’s Always talking. Always planning. It’s incessant. Like white noise that gets louder and louder until it’s deafening.

-How much longer can I keep up this façade?

His jaw tightens, though he maintains the mask of polite detachment as you chatter on.

“..There should be lots of chocolate truffles. Godiva, of course. Nothing less than the best, and oysters on the half shell. Oh! And we’ll need a videographer, Patrick. It has to be perfect.” you say, your tone certain.

When he doesn’t respond you touch him lightly on his thigh, oblivious to the simmering tension beneath his calm exterior.

“Patrick, we should do it.”

His head turns slightly, his eyes narrowing as he finally looks at you. “Do what?” He asks his voice clipped, his tone barely masking his irritation.

“Get married silly” you exclaim, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Finally have the wedding. Can’t you picture it? Everyone would be there, it would be so chic, Patrick.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks back out the window, his voice flat. “No. I can’t take the time off work.”

You laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “Patrick, your father practically owns the company. You can do anything you like.”

He turns back to you, his sharp gaze cutting through your playful tone. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says coldly, his voice dropping a degree.

“But Patrick,” you press, “you hate that job anyway. I don’t see why you don’t just quit. It’s not like you need the money.”

His gaze hardens, his voice quiet but each word pointed. “Because I want to fit in.”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his intensity.

The limo slows to a stop in front of his building, and Patrick steps out without another word, his sharp movements betraying his rising frustration.

You are quick to follow him, your heels clicking behind him as he strides toward the entrance of his penthouse.

The elevator ride is quiet with Patrick’s back turned toward you as you study him.

Something about his silence feels heavy, different from his usual cool demeanor.

Once inside his immaculate penthouses he shrugs off his jacket off, his jaw clenching as he throws it over the back of a chair, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension.

“Patrick, are you mad?” you ask carefully, your heels clicking against the marble floors as you follow him into the bedroom. “You know I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Patrick’s gaze turns to you, cold and unblinking as you enter the room.

-She never stops. Always talking, always complaining.

Patrick’s hands move to loosen his tie, his movements rushed and unfocused, each motion sharp with barely restrained tension.

“Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” he says finally, his voice low and razor sharp, each word slicing through the charged silence.

You glare at him, your brows furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you demand, your voice rising in defiance.

“It means,” he says, stepping closer, “that you’re exhausting. Your whining, your constant need for validation—do you ever get tired of hearing yourself?”

Your breath catches as your heart pounds harder in anger. “Patrick you’re such a prick,” you finally snap.

Patrick’s smirk returns, but this time it’s darker, more dangerous. “And you’re a spoiled little brat who doesn’t know when to stop.”

Before you can respond, he moves with unsettling precision, pulling his tie off and slipping it between your lips.

“Shhh,” he whispers, pulling the silk tight to stifle your protests as his cold gaze locks onto yours. “Since you don’t know when to keep quiet, I’ll do it for you.”

Your hands instinctively fly up to tug at the gag, but Patrick is faster seizing your wrists, forcing them behind your back together in his single unyielding hand.

His free hand moves to his belt, unfastening the buckle before he slides the leather free with an audible snap.

Your eyes widen in alarm, panic flaring in your chest as he wraps the belt around your wrists, pulling the leather tight and securing it against your skin.

You muffle his name against the gag in panic, twisting your wrists to break free, but it’s futile against his makeshift restraint.

Your gaze locks with his, and the devious smirk on his lips paired with the cold triumph in his eyes confirms what you already know—you’re under his control.

Without hesitation, he lifts you up over his shoulder as though you weight nothing. Your stomach presses against his broad shoulder as his arm tightens around the back of your thighs holding you firmly in place.

You kick your legs, your body writhing in resistance, but your struggle is futile against his strength. Your panic rises as he strides toward the bed and tosses you down with ease, the motion stealing your breath.

Your heart pounds as he steps closer, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you onto your back. His touch is firm, his dominance undeniable.

Your wide eyes meet his, and for a moment, you’re frozen. His gaze is unreadable, a mix of satisfaction and something far darker.

His hand slides up, lightly wrapping around your throat, the rhythm of your pulse thundering against his palm.

-I could end it right here—right now. Silence this perfect façade for my hollow existence.

The war inside him flickers briefly in his expression, shifting from cold determination to a shadow of hesitation.

Then his thumb brushes softly along your jawline, almost reverently, his sharp eyes studying your face, lingering on every detail.

-Why waste something so perfect?

-People see her on my arm, and they don’t question. They envy. And isn’t that what matters? Appearance. Power. Control.

His jaw clenches tightly, the tension flickering in his eyes before his face falls effortlessly back into its mask of detachment.

-She’s flawed, yes—but manageable. Moldable.

His hand softly trails down your chest, his eyes gleaming with barely contained lust.

His fingers splay over your breast and as he squeezes softly you pitifully whimper against the gag, his smirk deepening as his gaze flicks back to your face.

“You’re so used to getting your way, aren’t you?” he rasps, his tone dripping with mockery. “Now look at you—bound, silenced, and completely at my mercy.” He confirms, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

You turn your face away, desperate to deny his words, but his hand moves to your jaw, gripping it firmly and forcing you to meet his piercing gaze.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispers, the edge of dominance unmistakable as his hand returns to cup your breast. “You’re exactly how I want you—perfect, helpless, and entirely for my satisfaction.”

His thumb grazes over your hardened nipple, the friction of his touch through the thin fabric of your dress igniting a surge of arousal through you as your pride tries desperately to resist him.

Patrick’s smirk widens, his eyes flickering with satisfaction as he studies the flush spreading across your cheeks, the subtle betrayal of your body as your chest rises and falls unsteadily under his hand.

“You’re too spoiled for your own good,” he taunts, his thumb circling your nipple slower, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips as his touch dissolves any resistance into undeniable arousal.

Your hips shift instinctively, the slickness between your thighs exposing the desire you’re so desperately trying to suppress.

“My entitled little brat,” he taunts, his voice low and razor sharp seeing the way your body moves sensually giving itself away. “So desperate to be controlled.”

You whimper against the gag and he brings his other hand into play, teasing both of your nipples at once. He circles and flicks them with agonizing precision, drawing out your frustration and arousal until the sensation becomes unbearable.

He pinches the sensitive peaks between his fingers, pulling hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

A muffled whine escapes you against the gag as your thighs tighten instinctively feeling a rush of heat flood your core.

His smirk deepens at your reaction, a flicker of triumph lighting his face as his eyes lock onto yours. “See how easy it is when you don’t fight me?” he taunts, his tone dripping with dark amusement. “Your body knows exactly who it belongs to.”

Your mind races, a war of defiance and surrender raging inside you. Part of you wants to hate him for the control he wields over you, for the way he reads your every reaction and uses it against you. But another part—a part you barely recognize, craves the way he dominates you, the way he effortlessly takes your body under his control.

His hand moves lower, his fingers trailing down your stomach with maddening slowness, the thin fabric of your dress bunching beneath his touch.

His thoughts linger as his eyes roam over you bound and vulnerable beneath him.

—She’s so perfect like this. Silent. Submissive

—I want her this way forever.

His hand slides up your thigh, slipping under the hem of your dress, his thumb pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties.

You involuntary moan feeling the slick wetness of how much you crave him and your hips shift instinctively into his touch pleading for more.

His grin deepens, the dark glint in his eyes revealing just how much he revels in your surrender.

“You’ll learn,” he responds, his voice low and commanding, the faintest edge of mockery lacing his words. “You’ll learn when to speak and when to stay silent. And when you do… I’ll reward you.” His sharp gaze never leaves yours as his fingers tease the edge of your panties. Your legs part instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements are slow and methodical.

“If we are to be married,” he continues, his tone calm and calculated, “Those are the rules. Do you understand?”

You nod frantically, your breath catching as his fingers slip beneath the fabric to meet your wetness.

The soft strokes of his fingertips against your slick heat sends shivers through your body, your thighs pressing against his hand as you look at him with worshipful eyes.

He drags the pad of his thumb over your clit in agonizing tight circles making you writhe in bliss, his smirk deepening, with satisfaction as he watches you submit.

“Good girl,” he praises as the gag muffles the desperate whimpers and moans spilling out of you. “No one wants to hear a spoiled brat begging,” he confirms, his words as intoxicating as they are degrading.

The first thrust of his fingers inside you makes you clench involuntarily around them, your wetness easing them deeper as he strokes against a sensitive spot with maddening precision.

The tension in your core tightens with every thrust, the slick sounds of your arousal mingling with your muffled cries as his thumb circles your clit in perfect sync with the relentless pace of his fingers.

A sob catches in your throat as the pressure inside builds impossibly tighter. Your body trembles, the overwhelming sensation making your thighs quake as your head falls back and you moan against the gag.

“You’re already so close,” he whispers darkly, his voice dripping with sadistic satisfaction. “So easy to break. So desperate for me to let you come.”

The silk tie muffles your moans as your hips push instinctively against his hand, every muscle in your body tightening as he holds you on the edge, commanding your pleasure.

Tears prick your eyes as your thighs tremble uncontrollably, your mind going blank as you feel the overwhelming surge of your orgasm.

A broken sob escapes your lips, the sheer intensity leaving you breathless, your body arching and surrendering fully, powerless against the pleasure he’s drawing from you.

One last pitiful whimper escapes your lips as he slips his fingers from you, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction.

“Look at you,”He grins savoring the sight of his handiwork.

“Completely spent,” he says softly, his smirk widening as his eyes trail over your trembling form.

Your chest heaves and your skin flushes, the dazed look in your eyes showing just how completely he’s unraveled you.

“My spoiled little fiancée ruined already?” he asks, his hands moving to unbutton his pristine white dress shirt. “You’re not finished proving yourself to me yet.” He confirms.

The first reveal of his chiseled torso is like a work of art—his broad, commanding shoulders tapering to a lean waist, every muscle perfectly proportioned and sculpted to perfection.

His smooth skin divots over his defined torso, the deep lines of his abs drawing your gaze downward.

With equal precision, he unfastens his dress pants, lowering them to reveal his long thick cock, the sight making your pulse quicken.

He kneels in front of you on the bed with a commanding presence, pulling you on your knees.

His sharp jawline tightens as he guides you level to his waist, his eyes dark with intent, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing smirk.

“Now “He says, his voice low and commanding. “Let’s use that pretty little mouth for what it’s good for hm?” he taunts, undoing the silk tie gagging you and letting it fall from your lips.

His smirk deepens as his he looks to the mirror across from the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of your submission with your wrists still bound tightly behind your back.

He pulls you possessively closer, his cock now inches from your face as he watches the scene in the reflection. “Open your mouth for me,” he orders, his voice smooth but heavy with dominance.

You obediently part your lips, and he guides his cock into your mouth. The tip presses against your tongue, warm and heavy, before he pushes deeper. Your lips widen to accommodate him, your eyes lifting to meet his as he fills your mouth completely.

He hums low in his throat, his satisfaction undeniable as his hand tangles in your hair, holding you steady as he begins to gently thrust. “You should see yourself,” he rasps, his voice rough with pleasure, his eyes locked on the mirror. “On your knees, looking so eager, so desperate to please me—my spoiled little brat is finally doing something useful.”

You moan against his cock his words humiliating yet exhilarating and the reflection captures every detail; the way your cheeks hollow as you take him deeper, your bound wrists trembling slightly behind you, and the flush on your face deepening as he guides his cock smoothly back and forth in your mouth.

Patrick’s sharp jaw tightens, his breaths quickening as his hips thrust slightly harder the wet sounds of your mouth meeting him on every push.

Your eyes water slightly as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat, but you don’t pull away. Your body reacts instinctively, a soft gag escaping you and he groans, his hand tightening in your hair with a possessive grip.

The sounds of his pleasure vibrate through the air, his voice faltering for the first time as he looks down at you. “You’re so good at this—we’re finally putting that mouth of yours to proper use.”

His words cut through you, the mix of degradation and praise sending a wave of heat coursing through your core. You whimper softly, the vibration drawing another guttural groan from him as his hips push forward, rougher and deeper.

His sharp gaze flicks to the mirror, catching the sight of himself thrusting into your mouth, your bound form kneeling submissively before him.

His eyes lock on the way you take him as deeply as you can, the desperate need to satisfy him overpowering any lingering thought or resistance.

A ragged groan tears from his chest, as the tightness of your throat milks another groan from him.

His pace becomes relentless the muscles in his thighs tensing, as he meets your mouth and a deep groan escapes from his chest as his control slips for a moment.

His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you in sync with his movements, each thrust deliberate but increasingly unrestrained.

The sight of himself in the mirror—his cock thrusting between your lips, your eyes watering yet locked onto his, drives him to the edge, his breath coming faster, rougher.

His hips stutter for a fraction of a second, and with a sharp intake of breath, he pulls out abruptly, his cock glistening with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip as you gasp for air.

With one swift movement he pushes you onto your back pressing your bound wrists into the mattress.

His gaze never leaves yours as he takes hold of your ankles, lifting your legs effortlessly. The smooth leather of your heels brushes against his arms as he guides your feet to rest just above his shoulders, framing his head.

His hands grip the front of your thighs, the sight of your body, exposed and vulnerable beneath him, brings a dark glint to his eyes. His sharp smirk grows as he looks to the mirror, his gaze shifting between your reflection and your flushed face.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he instructs, his voice low and commanding as he reaches between your legs and pulls your slick panties aside. “You’re going to see just how perfectly you take me”

You watch as he holds your legs to him and slowly presses the head of his hard cock into you, the slick tip causing a surge of arousal to flood through your core.

He watches your reaction in the mirror as your head falls back, your soft whimpers escaping freely with out the silk gag in place.

“Look at us,” he says, his voice low and laced with pride, his eyes fixed on your reflections. “We look perfect together.”

Your breath catches as his hips press forward, the blunt tip of his cock breaching you with excruciating slowness. The stretch is overwhelming, your walls gripping tightly as he fills you inch by inch.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he begins to thrust himself deep inside, the slick heat of your arousal making the glide seamless and all consuming.

Patrick’s gaze shifts back to yours, a flicker of dark satisfaction crossing his features as he settles his cock fully within you.

You tremble under him, bound and completely at his mercy, his smirk deepening with the power of your surrender.

His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding them in place as he pulls back slightly, his hips snapping forward with measured precision.

The force of his thrusts knocks the breath from your lungs, your back arching instinctively as raw gasps escape you.

You can’t help but surrender to his control, your eyes fluttering, dazed and unfocused, overwhelmed by the sensation of pleasure surging through you.

He holds your legs pinned to his torso, your heels brushing against his ears as his cock strokes relentlessly against the sensitive spot inside you.

The intensity is almost unbearable, yet you crave more, your body clinging to the overwhelming bliss.

You moan loudly, your voice filling the air as your hands flex against your bindings. The sensation of him filling you, and overpowering you making you desperate for the release only he can provide.

It’s so much—too much—but the thought of him stopping now is unbearable, your body craving each powerful thrust as a cascade of pleasure courses through you.

“Look how well you take me,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction, his sharp eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror desperately aroused by the sight of you together.

His grip tightens, his fingers digging into your shins, pinning your calves to his chest. The wet sound of your arousal echoes through the room as his unyielding thrusts send shockwaves through your core.

Patrick’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, each one forcing broken cries from your lips.

The glide of his cock moving in and out on every thrust sends a surge of pleasure through your bodies that builds to a fever pitch.

Your hips rock instinctively against him, your cries spilling freely as your body surrenders completely to him.

Patrick’s hands slide down to the curve of your hips, gripping firmly as he pulls you even closer, forcing you to take every inch of his cock.

The slick heat of your arousal makes each movement seamless yet devastating, the stretch of him filling you completely pushing you toward the brink.

His sharp gaze flickers between you and the mirror, his breaths coming in rough, steady pants as he watches your reflection.

The sight of your flushed face, your body arching in rhythm as the thrusts his hardest sending a thrill of satisfaction through him.

“Look at us,” he commands, his voice edged with pride, his hips thrusting against you as his hands grip your waist “Look how perfect we look together.”

You moan as his grip tightens, his fingers pressing into your skin as his pace becomes punishing. The mirrored reflection of your bodies moving together with his perfect physique dominating yours pushes you over the edge.

The tension inside you coils impossibly tight, then snaps with unbearable pleasure as your orgasm hits. Your body arches violently, a broken scream escaping your lips as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

Patrick thrusts relentlessly, driving you through the aftershocks as his sharp gaze remains fixed on the mirror watching you orgasm beneath him with dark, unrestrained pleasure.

His cock is throbbing as he glides into your fluttering walls with powerful thrusts. The slickness allows him to bury himself so deeply the stretch makes you gasp as he grips you tightly, pulling you flush against him.

The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure as his groans turn primal, his thrusts raw and unrestrained as he reaches his peak.

“So perfect—” he groans, his voice breaking as he loses himself completely. “My spoiled little fiancée… serving me so flawlessly.”

He holds you still as comes, filling you with his release in surges, his body shuddering as he empties himself into you, his hands gripping you so tightly it feels like he’s branding you.

He stills for a moment, breathing heavily, his sharp gaze meeting yours with undeniable satisfaction.

He lets your legs down gently, his hands lingering on your thighs for a moment longer, his cock still throbbing until he slips out of you.

Exhausted he lays on the bed, both of your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Patrick unfastens his belt form your wrists, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you against his chest. For a moment there’s only silence, the faint sound of your breathing filling the room as he holds you close.

His intensity softens as he strokes your shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk.

-She definitely has her uses—that mouth, she’s a natural talent, and her body, perfectly made for my indulgence.

-If she learns to stay quiet when needed, to obey without hesitation—I might keep her …..permanently

As you look up at Patrick he says nothing simply holding you against him. His heart slows, the tension between you both melting into a rare moment of intimacy.

You offer him a soft smile, and his smirk remains savoring the fact that for now the silence is perfect.

END 🔪

🔗 Masterlist

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[gyaru-tau]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

love marks & battle scars

[rival! enemy! ken sato x baseball teammate! undercover KDF agent! reader]

part 1

drabble | part 2

pairing: kenji sato x reader

cw: sfw for now, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hardcore!intimidating!reader, matsui’s daughter!reader, cursing, minimal details are changed to fit into the storyline, ken and reader will get kinda freaky eventually, spicy themes, allusions to sex, mdni u have been warned !!! don make me come for u D:< !!!, girldad!kenji, reader becomes emi’s mother figure, goofy ahhhh writing as usual

a/n: ch one takes place in ken's first game in the beginning btw

ken sato, your egotistical new teammate has been ticking you off and thinning your patience, being a threat to your place in yomiuri giants. 

ultraman, your nemesis who always gets in the way of your job in the kdf, that you only joined in hopes of finding leads and getting clues to track your parents.

and somehow you even ended up being a co-parenting his… kaiju daughter. something you never signed up for.

What beautiful, festive night with clear skies it is tonight. 

After lazily strolling through the back of the arena, Ken finally found his way to the open door leading to the bleachers, where he can already see the bright lights inside the dome and hear the cheers of the lively crowd. He elatedly took a deep breath before he entered the arena through the entrance that led him to his designated team, all in the middle of having an adrenaline rush. 

It was his first time playing as a member of the Yomiuri Giants. Very exciting. There really is nothing that gives his system a fulfilling rush than baseball.

Ah, what a nice night to–

“Oi, Sato!” 

Be nagged. Great way to prepare for a game.

“He-hey! Shimura!” with a smug smile, he merrily raised to greet Shimura like how an old friend would to another. “Nice team. Is the place for Captain open? Because I’d love to take you up on that.”

Shimura annoyedly narrowed his eyes at him. “Lucky you, it’s open, and also unlucky you, because that spot is good as reserved this season.”

Ken slightly tilted his head, “What’cha mean by reserved?”

“Technically, the Captain of last season would still be the unofficial Captain of this season until a new one gets decided. And I don’t plan to replace my current Captain anytime. Unless someone in the team can surpass them. Only the best players in my team are chosen as the Captain.”

He registered the information he heard. Just like an heir to a throne. A King. That sure sounds nice.

“So, this former Captain-current unofficial Captain of yours has been the team Captain for consecutive seasons? Then, that must’ve only meant he’s unbeatable. He better watch his back if he wants to maintain his streak.” now that he’s here, surely not.

Shimura failed to contain the slight smirk that plastered itself on one side of his lips. In the side of his face that is out of Ken’s line of vision, so Ken doesn’t see. He thinks, clearly he doesn’t know what he’s saying nor who he's dealing with. 

“I’ll introduce you to the acting Captain of this team as a formality.” he chose to play it cool and not push it further, it’d be better if he observes you himself.

“Where’s [L/N]?” Shimura asked the busy team, getting their attention to him and Ken because of the mention of the last name. He scanned the team, seemingly looking for someone yet guessing from his furrowed brows and craning of his neck, it seems that the acting Captain that he’s looking for isn’t here.

“Arrived not a while ago. Still at the back, Coach.” one of his teammates in the middle of tying their shoelaces answered and jerked their thumb towards the door trailing to the locker room.

“It'll have to wait later, then.” Shimura acknowledged, “By the way, about your little imaginary advertisement title during the PressCon. Just to remind you again, no place for your so-called Ken Sato Show in my team. So don't try me.” Shimura warned him while pointing his index finger on his chest.

Ken raises both of his hands defensively forcing laughter. “Okay, okay. Got it.”

Ken’s attention drifted to someone emerging straight to the team out of nowhere, wearing a dark tinted helmet and a motorcycle jacket.

“[L/N], about time.” Shimura turned his head to you in relief. In Ken’s point of view, it’s like your arrival meant the team was saved. Looks like even Shimura has his favorites. Too bad you’re going to be dethroned soon. “Did you forget your batting helmet so you wore a motorcycle helmet instead?” Shimura pointed out your outlandish attire.

You let out a muffled snicker under your helmet. You held the helmet with your hands to take it off. Ken waited to see the face of his newfound rival under the helmet, fully expecting a man, preparing to say something to assert dominance over you. His expectant smile dropped when after you removed your helmet and shook your head to free your hair, the moment your hair flowed and his eyes lay on your face, was also the moment he realized...

You were not a man.

The Captain of the Giants… is a woman?

What the f–

Well, he wasn’t trying to be sexist or anything. No, no, not at all. He knows a lot of strong women in his life—his mother is a solid proof one of many. He acknowledges women are just as capable as men. It’s just, it’s been so long since he was last updated with the Giants even before he got in. First reason is because he really doesn’t care about the identities of his future teammates. And second, because he—what’s the term?—Lost interest in them when he cut off everything associated with Japan, because it reminded him of his dad who traded him and his mother to the Ultraman gig. Gosh, how long has it been? 

“Where did you come from?” 

“Audience’s entrance. Your interviewers are camped in the corridor on the way to the locker rooms.” You tossed your helmet to the nearby bench. 

My god, not even your height or the way your physique looked under your baggy jacket gave away the fact that you were a woman.

Ken, after a moment of being taken aback by your appearance, straightened himself subtly when you glanced at him for a few seconds. He’s not nervous, is he? Of course not. No one ever makes him, the Ken Sato nervous. He fought the urge to hit his own head with his palm. For god’s sake, Kenji, snap out of it.

“Who’s this?” Your tired eyes shift from him to Shimura. You don't know him? Once again, you did it. The fact that you didn’t know him added to the damage you did to his ego.

He observed you closely. You had a stern expression, sharp eyes, a prim, somewhat almost restrained appearing composure and a low, sultry voice. He does admit, your intimidating aura really does reflect that of a leader. Oddly attractive.

Yet not enough to distract him from his goal.

“Your new teammate, Ken Sato.” Shimura answered with his hand gesturing toward Ken. “Sato, this is our consecutive Captain, [Y/N L/N].” Shimura introduces you to him. 

Shimura’s words echoed in Ken’s ear. “only the best players are chosen as the Captain”, You’re the best player of this team. You, in front of him, right now. 

“Nice to meet you, Captain.” Ken forced a smile, trying to pull himself together.

Your eyes went back to him after, he can tell you’re sizing him up. It didn't take long before Ken got lost in his thoughts again. You had a sharp gaze, one that if it were possible to kill, he would be down lying on the floor. Your gaze almost even looks like a glare already. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when after moments of not moving, you walked towards his direction. He expectantly prepared himself mentally to converse with you, but he was beyond shocked when you walked past him.

What… 

What?

Did that really just happen? It did. The proof was the trail of your scent you left walking past him. Your perfume smelled musky, yet also sweet. Not painful to the nose. 

He’d lie if he said he wasn’t expecting you to interact with him, welcome him in your team or initiate anything, anything at all. But you just… didn’t care? Shouldn’t Team Captains, even acting ones greet new teammates? If he were the Captain he’d do it. Is this how they welcome teammates in Tokyo? He had never been this humbled in his whole life.

Shimura didn’t have any reaction, as if it was just what he had already expected from you. You sat at your team’s side of the bleachers to change your shoes and wear your face guard, not even looking back in their direction to even lay your eyes on him again. Ken still cannot believe what had just happened. He’s stupid for expecting, and you’re clearly not friendly, and it’s fine. He can take that. 

On the bench, you stifled a yawn. If you yawn freely, Shimura would notice it with his hawk eyes and nag you asking why’d you tire yourself out before a game and of course you cannot disclose why. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today because of the aftermath of your discreet job outside baseball. Neronga was a resistant one, you’d say. If Ultraman hadn’t meddled with your mission, you would’ve finished the job sooner and you would’ve had enough rest.

“Yo, Captain.” one of your teammates, Otomo, approached you.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You were the Captain last season, and surely you’ll still be in this one.”

You glared at him and diverted your attention to your shoelaces without replying.

“What’d you think about our new teammate?” Nothing but a show-off. “Heard a while ago Sato over there was also aiming for the same title.” Otomo gestured his head to Sato.

Your hands continued tying your laces. You’d like a healthy competition. Whatever he wants. You don’t care about the Captain title on its own, anyway. You only care about being Captain because it meant you were the best out of everyone in the team. While Sato was changing in the locker room, you stood up after you finished wearing and fixing your baseball gear.

You were fixing the soles of your shoes when your vision caught some of your teammates piling up while watching something on their mobile phones. Some of them seemed to be genuinely fanboying on Sato and some of them didn't like him. You? You're part of the latter, like these guys.

“[L/N], it’s Sato’s PressCon last night. Come watch with us. He claimed himself the greatest active player.” you overheard as they kept replaying that one part over and over and laughing. You were right. That Sato is conceited. And he’s not even subtle about it.

Greatest active player, huh. You’d like to see if he can walk his talk.

Before the game started, Shimura called you all to discuss the sequence. And you and Sato were accidentally placed beside each other.

“You lead.” Shimura points at your direction. You weren't sure who, because Sato was placed little more in front of you.

“Coach, do you mean, me?” You clarified.

“No, Sato.” he pointed at the new guy, Sato. “You’re first one up. Bat.”

Your narrow eyes focused on this Sato guy. You sized him up once again. Usual pretty boy, pretty face, but petty attitude. What’s special about him? First impressions, off. But, you do have to see how he plays first to judge him.

“He’s the best player in his former team. Let him lead.”

You wordlessly retreated and stepped back to give way to the players. You stared at his back containing his jersey number, Sato, number seven.

Meanwhile in front, Ken fights the urge to look at you. “Don’t worry guys, I’m about to change this team’s trajectory just tonight.” he confidently walked off with the same cocky smile.

Although it’s a bummer he won’t get the chance to watch you play first, he took the opportunity and stepped inside the court. He took his mind off of everything not inside the court. He has to focus. This is his time to prove himself. 

You do want to be the best, but you don’t always expect to be the best. There’s a fine line that differs between those two. Although, yes, your father would be displeased if he finds out you’re anything but the best. But if he's always a show-off, then you already have that advantage over him. He isn’t a formidable competition at all.

The crowd screeched when his face went all over the jumbotron's LED screen. While in the point of view of the audience, it’s very noticeable how he seemed uncomfortable with his left shoulder. Looks like it isn’t just you who has a skill issue today. He still had the strength to bicker with the catcher from the other team, though. He’ll be fine.

The game began, the pitcher pitched. He missed. The second pitch, he missed again.

Your face crumpled. You made a point once again. He, in fact, can’t walk his talk. You crossed your arms and sank your back against the backrest of the bench. You’ve lost interest in the game.

Disappointing.

For the third time, the pitcher pitches, and for the last chance that he had, he hit the ball. Oh, lucky is he. The crowd goes wild, the commentator announces the successful bat and the giant screen shows his face. Even if he batted successfully on the third, it didn’t reverse the disappointment you felt now that you can judge him. He then came running the bases.

You looked away and rested your chin against your palm with crossed legs, not paying attention to the game, but all of a sudden, your eyes caught something familiarly strange flying outside the dome. 

Is that…

You squinted to see clearly, and when you saw it again, your eyes widened. It vanished again for a while, but your sighting of KDF jets told you everything you needed to know to confirm what it was. You flinched in your seat when one of the KDF jets crashed and exploded near the dome, interrupting the game, also startling the people inside the dome who were now instinctively starting to evacuate the area. In the middle of the flames of the explosion, the creature emerged and showed itself clearly, just exactly as the one you suspected.

“Gigantron.” You and Ken mouthed at the same time, from different spots inside the dome.

The creature roars, frightening people even more. Everything was chaos, like that of a dystopia. People were pushing each other in the exits to get out of the dome as soon as possible. You stood up from your seat, picked your helmet up from the bottom bench, not turning your back on Gigantron, you pushed the door with your palm to the nearest exit. You pushed your way through the waves of people until you reached your motorcycle outside.

You revved the engine and sped up en route to the KDF headquarters. You need to get there before the last jet takes off.

—

In the dim-lit interior of the KDF Headquarters, Chief Officer Dr. Onda silently watches the monitor screen.

Aoshima, the KDF Captain hurriedly went to him after the difficult situation unfolded. “Sir, we have an emergency. Gigantron has ambushed our jets and taken it down. The package cannot be tracked, as of now.”

“Is Saturnine inside the headquarters right now?”

“Uh, Agent Saturnine is currently off-duty tonight, Sir.” Aoshima responded, wondering why out of everyone, he specifically asked about Saturnine.

Dr. Onda exhales and doesn't reply further. He maintained his stoned expression under his aviators. He focused on the monitor cameras showing the chaos the Gigantron made.

His forehead creases in distress. “Scramble all jets. Kill Gigantron. Do what you can to retrieve the package.” he orders his personnel.

“Yes, sir.”

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2024, don forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

incomp taglist (do comment if u wanna be added): @moonjellyfishie @aise-30 @lovingyeet @ririkacchi

[cherryzlem]

My talk on the TikTok-ification of ‘I have no mouth and i must scream’

I personally have discovered ihnmaims recently and through TikTok but honestly, from what i've seen so far, the Tumblr community is way more welcoming than the TikTok community. I believe the ones i call ‘hardcore fans’ or 'gatekeepers' will try all they can to belittle the people who discovered the book/game through TikTok, like any hardcore fan does for their community when it gets famous on TikTok.

TikTok is very helpful to share media on and i have discovered many fandoms through it. But some people are so against ‘TikTok-ification’ that they can’t stand when people find medias through this platform.

When i see some people (again, mostly solely on TikTok) tell AM fans ‘ermm but you know he SA’d Helen ☝️🤓’ i cant help but think ‘yes ?? And he also committed genocide on humanity, keeps torturing the same 5 people over and over again and im very, VERY sure he did use a lot of not really nice kinds of tortures on them, but you draw the line at SA ??’

Like, AM is a horrible being of course, all of these are horrible actions but if someone, like me, likes AM its not gonna be because they think they’re a good ‘person’ (for lack of a better word), WE KNOW AM is bad, of course we do, HE’S THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY and he’s the kind of bad guy who cannot be redeemed but COME ON, WE KNOW THAT.

I love AM for his writing, for how well thought he is as a character, i do not love him for his actions. And i know some 'new gen fans' will pretend AM is not 'that bad' but you shouldn't just assume every fan who comes from TikTok is going to think like that.

Another thing i’ve seen people hate on are AM’s humanisations/personnifications fanarts when posted on TikTok. I know for a fact that these existed for a long long time on other platforms such as Tumblr but the arguments the haters pull out is that ‘errr AM hates humanity, i doubt he’d want to be human ☝️🤓’ but do you even know WHY he hates humanity ?? Have you read the book ???

The reason AM hates humanity is because he wasn’t able to express the creativity he was given by humans, he didn’t just wake up one day and decided to hate humans ?? If anything, giving AM a more humanized/personified image would be something he would want more than anything. If AM had been able to BE like a human none of the shit he did would have happened.

The only ‘argument’ im willing to listen to is when some people say that the whole point of AM’s character is that he isn’t human. But then again, are you against fun ?? In literally EVERY fandom with non-human characters artists will give them humanized designs, even if just for AU’s (take ‘The stanley parable’ for exemple), it’s not because the story is old and is an horror story that people cannot have fun with it. It’s not because it’s a deep story with meaning that people can’t do what they want with it. That is what creativity is for.

And my final point is addressing the people who hate on AM's simps. My gosh, these people have not seen the dawn of the internet if they think its weird to simp for AM.

People simp for Glados, The Narrator from tsp, horror movies murderers and more, and you're telling me that AM is the worst simping choice you could make ?? Let people have fun, let people have weird taste in fictional crushes. In other words:

Stop being allergic to fun, ffs

[crystalandparrot]

ROTTMNT x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

The flashing of cameras and the voices of reporters was the first thing Leonardo heard as he stepped out of his limo. Due to the long plane ride, Leo decided to wear comfort over fashion, although it's hard for him to look bad in anything. He wore a white wife-beater, revealing his plastron and tattooed arms. Much like his brother, Leonardo loved art, he just loved it in a more show-off sense. Of course, he let his brother give him his first tattoo, a large colored portrait of their family on his thigh. On his legs were blue sweats, a personal favorite that his agent always advised him not to wear. Expensive shoes designed for him specifically adorned his feet. Finally, silver chains decorated his wrists and neck (he would have chosen gold, but his brother advised against it. C'mon, blue and gold?), glistening with each movement. He flashed a smirk at the cameras and gave finger guns at fans. One of his bodyguards leaned close to whisper in his ear, "You have a meeting with the executive producers in thirty minutes."

"Which means I get at least twenty-eight minutes to strut my stuff." Leo chuckled. With split-second motions, Leo changed between poses, performing for the camera.

"-mask!"

Leo turned and stared into the crowd, "W-Who said that?" The crowd parted as if making way for a royal or God to walk without interruption. A small woman with a microphone in her hand shook as Leo approached. "Just now, you said something, what was it?"

The small girl stuttered, "I asked i-if you could put on y-your mask. F-for a picture for Channel 10?"

Leo's heart dropped, and his breathing quickened. A pat on his shoulder shook him out of his mini panic attack. He nodded thanks at his bodyguard and gave the reporter a quick grin, " I don't even know where that old thing went! It's been, what, psshh, five years? It's probably shoved in a box somewhere." That satiated the hungry reporters and fans, for now. Leo and his bodyguard left, heading off to the large building behind the crowd.

Okay, first things first. You don't know the old password so you can't change it to one you'll remember. So you changed the screen dimming time to never. Now the phone won't shut off on its own. Dialing your number, you called about three times with no answer. A sudden thought crosses your mind, causing your palm to hit your face. Your phone was on silent. Taking a deep breath, you quickly texted your number, explaining the situation and the password to unlock your phone. That way the turtle Yokai won't be as clueless as you are now.

With nothing else to do, you connected your headphones to the turtle's phone and searched for Spotify. It was his fault, the least he could do was spare some tunes. Wait a minute...his Spotify account...this dude was Othello Von Ryan? Man, you couldn't wait to see him again. His studying playlists kept you awake and alert through college! His barrage of random music, ranging from 80's dancing music to hardcore techno kept your mind alert and focused. Donnie, or, Othello Von Ryan, helped you with memory. Oddly enough, some of the quirky tunes in his playlists gave you memorization songs.

In fact, now that you think about it, Donnie looked an awful lot like your favorite actor--

"(Y/n)! Come in, dear! I've been expecting you!" A shrill voice called from across the street.

You looked up, spotting Mrs. Erin, the Heron Yokai. You grinned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and shoving them in your pocket. You waved at the Yokai as you crossed the street, stepping into her swampy garden. "How's your husband, Mrs. Erin?"

"Oh, Harry's fine! Come in! Come in! Let me get you a cup of tea." The old Yokai hobbled inside, her talons dragging across the waterlogged wood. You followed behind closely, used to the drab environment. You learned throughout life that the more you understand how something came to be, the more beautiful it becomes. With a clap from you, the twinkling string of lights came on. It's warm glow bouncing off the waxy leaves that broke through the cracked windows. Dew drops fell onto the wet floor, filling the room with quiet plip plaps.

A chipped cup of lukewarm tea was placed in your hand. A feathery hand pushed you down onto an old rocking chair, the owner of the hand sitting down across from you. "I want you to tell me all about this new job!" Erin grinned with a toothless smile.

"It's just a small librarian job at the school up top." You said, sipping your tea.

"Up top! With all those-those monsters?" Erin screeched.

"They're not all monsters! Some of them—"

"(Y/n). When your mother died I promised your father I'd make sure that you were safe! W-wouldn't you rather stay home? Marry a nice Yokai and settle down?" Erin tottered closer to you and grabbed your hands.

You chuckled, "I'm not exactly looking for someone to settle down with yet. I'm ready to get out there and explore! Besides, I can protect myself!" You said, proudly.

"E-even with all the humans?" Erin stuttered.

You blinked at Erin, your face neutral, "Mrs. Erin. I'm human."

"I know! B-but you're one of the good ones! I'd hate for you to go up top where I won't know what happened—Oh!" The old Yokai snatched the cup of tea from your hands and peered into the old china. She glared at the leaves and swirled the remaining liquid in the cup. With a gasp that jostled your core, Erin’s beak stretched into a long smile. She breathed a sigh of relief and set down the cup. “I was worried for nothing. You’re going to fall in love and get married to a nice, young, handsome Yokai.”

You shook your head, yet a smile still sat on your cheeks, “Maybe in a couple of years, Mrs. Erin. I’m not in any rush to get married to anyone right now.”

“Oh, I’m sure!” The Heron chuckled like she knew something you didn’t. Without warning, she began pushing you out of the house. “Okay, bye-bye now! The quicker you go up top the faster you fall in love!” With that, the door was slammed in your face, the sound echoing through the marshy area.

“Love you too.” You said flatly. You pulled the mystery phone back out of your pocket and put in your earbuds again. When you clicked onto Spotify, a notification popped up.

“Leonardo Hamato back in NYC for upcoming movie shoot, exclusive interview from Channel 10.”

Huh. How weird would it be if you ran into your favorite actor while after just moving back up top? Probably entirely impossible, but it was nice to hope, right?

"Shoved in a box?! Did you hear him?"

"I did."

"Shoved in a box?! Ugh! He's just so—"

"Annoying, pompous, overconfident, lacking in empathy, ass-like?"

Mikey turned to Donnie, his hair falling into his face as his head whipped around. "I was gonna say stupid, but yeah, those work too." Mikey nodded, turning back to the T.V, seeing the reporters final words to the camera once Leo left the cameras view.

Donnie felt himself N.E., which stood for Nose Exhale. Mikey learned that phrase years ago and thought it was more fitting than L.O.L for his emotionally unavailable brother. While it was rare for Donnie to "laugh out loud", when he found something humorous, he always let out a little breath of a chuckle through his nose.

"I just...out of everything he could have done...why'd he have to take away the one thing that..."

When Mikey paused, Donnie looked up from his purple holographic screens that he had been typing on. He saw Mikey looking at the screen sadly, and he knew it wasn't from the sad dog commercial that came on, but the interview that came before it. "That what, Michael?" Donnie asked, the screens disappearing.

"Nothing, it's stupid," Mikey sniffed, wiping his eyes before tears could escape.

"Leo is stupid, you're emotionally intelligent. You obviously have a reason to feel what you feel. You're not stupid for feeling emotions, Michelangelo." Donnie used his full name with the intention of leaving an impact.

Mikey chuckled and turned to Donnie, tears running down his smiling face, "Thanks, D."

Donnie nodded and sat up in his bean bag (yes it was his, the purple color made it obvious), "I may have taken a page or two from Dr. Delicate Touch," he shrugged.

"Nah, that was Dr. Feelings for sure," Mikey joked, knowing his brother was rather uncomfortable with feelings, but to be fair, he had gotten a lot better. Realizing this, Mikey sighed. Donnie appreciated honesty over anything, so this was something he needed to get off his chest, for his sake and his brother's. "Dad always called us by the color of our masks. Red, Orange, Purple...but Leo's not wearing his anymore. It's like he disowned us...he's not Blue anymore." Mikey began tucking his head and limbs into his shell with every word. By the end of his sentence, only his shell was visible sitting in front of the empty recliner.

This time Donnie sighed, he stood and gripped the purple beanbag so it stayed comfortably on his rear while he shuffled towards his brother. Letting gravity help him, Donnie let himself and the beanbag fall to the ground. He wiggled slightly and hummed, pleased at the fact that his position hadn't changed and the beanbag was still holding his shell and rear perfectly. Using his hand, he hesitantly patted Mikey's shell in comfort. "Leonardo's done some idiotic things in the past. I'd put this in his top ten, actually." Donnie thought aloud, but shook his head, remembering his original point, "He’s a dumb-dumb but, unfortunately, he'll never stop being our brother."

Mikey poked his head out, looking in Donnie's eyes for...something. A lie? Hope? Donnie didn't know, but whatever he found, he liked it, because the next moment, Mikey had his head and limbs out. He outstretched his arms, but didn't move aside from that. Donnie rolled his eyes, although a small smile poked at his lips. With a nod from Donnie, Mikey jumped onto him, giving him the tightest hug that he thought he'd ever received. Donnie hugged back.

Thankfully for Donnie, Mikey understood boundaries, and separated from Donnie before the hug got too overwhelming. Sloppily wiping his tears and sucking up his snot, Mikey gave Donnie a sincere smile. "Thanks, Don."

Donnie nodded, a small smile on his own lips. Out of his battle shell came a robotic arm holding a tissue. Mikey took the tissue and blew his nose as the robotic arm retracted back into the shell. "Hey-"

"I would prefer if you finished blowing your nose before you change the subject, please." Donnie asked, pulling up his holographic screens once more with the help of his Ninpō.

Mikey obeyed, then tossed the tissue into the trashcan on the other side of the room. When it landed, Mikey pumped his fist in a silent cheer. "What happened at the Mystic City? We were chasing Meat Sweats and you stopped to talk to some girl." Mikey remembered.

"Oh, yeah. Raph was texting about meeting for dinner, so I naturally opened my messages to form a reply, when—" Donnie pulled out his phone to show Mikey the texts when he immediately felt something amiss. The case was the same, the weight was equal to his phone, the model was the exact same, everything looked fine. But this is Donnie, he lost his phone for less than a day and went nearly insane when he was still a teenager. Give him a week and he might've made a phone from just things in the woods. He knew everything about his phone.

"Donnie?" Mikey called, noticing his brother's sudden silence.

Shakily, Donnie turned over the phone, noticing the background first, then the surplus of texts and calls from his phone number. He whispered something too quiet for Mikey to hear.

"What?" Mikey asked, putting his hand up to the side of his head where his ear would have been.

"This. Isn't. My. Phone."

[ranticore]

For the ask meme... 1-4 for Twist and Ishmael 🐋

1: What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?

Twist: hehe funny cat man has a bad time

Ishmael: [hardcore channelling my pre-teen stage of making edgy ocs who were born in a lab]

2: How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?)

Twist looked a bit different at first - he's kind of an expy of Teapot, a character from an abandoned setting. Teapot never really took a physical form (it was a curse within a teapot-shaped vessel, and the face of the guy it took was the one who got cursed) but Twist is literally bottom rung Just Some Guy levels of physicality so i had to make him feel grounded and realistic. I first drew him late last year & I liked the idea of a sickly pallid skinny lookin sfx movie monster nocturnal thing with extra hands as a kind of contrast to a sphinx's wings

but i didn't like the look and instead did a bunch of studies on fossa & jaguarundi since they were the type of animal that would have the same kind of locomotion and in early 2024 i ended up with a more naturalistic design that hasn't changed since

Ishmael: he was always designed to be exactly what he was if that makes sense.. so day one!! although i struggled to get his face right for a long time because he's more humany than phocids but also has the same jaw shape as them (kind of a receding jaw line) and it was tough to get right & also slightly uncanny. this from March 2023 was my first attempt that was sort of on the right track

but still not quite right

3: What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

Twist: appearance

Ishmael: role in the story... he was designed to suffer

4: And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

Twist: NAME. i literally gave up i said i don't CARE this thing is called TWIST

Ishmael: ok i cheaped out on the name here I know. appearance was rough as stated i had to strike a balance.

[tyttamarzh]

DEATH FAMILY!!!

I figured my family portrait needed to be updated, enough changes have happened, the reboot, the new home, the EK, the Tallulah change… so here's my new version.

Now they are posing from the dock of their new house (the background is horrible, I know, I'm sorry).

Really Phil and Missa's designs are practically the same.

Missa has not changed from his previous designs, with or without his mask.

(there are some changes in Phil, the most noticeable are his corrupted wings)...

But the children… ohh! The children had to have changes... I always had a conflict with Chay's design, because I didn't want to do it with black hair (with black hair and his skeleton mask he looked like just a mini Missa without anything else), but I felt bad about making him completely blonde, bc I felt like I was leaving Missa out, but now with Tallulah taking on characteristics from Missa, it's easier to relax with Chay's colors.

Chay prefers to wear his mask to appear more dangerous, since his face is actually very cute and that is not at all threatening as a warrior. He has the hardcore heart of his father Philza and some details paying homage to his hero Technoblade (the small pink braid in his hair) (AlsoIn my HC they can show or hide his tails or horns and other dragon features).

This is my Tallulah's design.

The closeness between Missa and Tallulah and the fact that they already have a father-daughter relationship warmed my heart. My previous design of Tallulah never completely convinced me, perhaps because I still felt like she was foreign in some way, perhaps because I had made her only because she was supposed to be there, but in my mind the idea that her presence was something "temporary" prevented me from get completely attached. Now she finally managed to sneak into my chest and it was really fun to design her again, this time giving her Missa's characteristics, because now he is her father completely, as much as Phil and there is no longer any problem of saying it without thousands of voices coming to reproach for it and clarify that they are only their temporary parents.

I decided that the children's colors would be a mix of their parents' in different tones, having a similar color palette. So Tallulah has Missa's hair and Phil's eyes, while Chay has Phil's hair and Missa's eyes (Chay with purple eyes Yay!) leaving their delicate balance between yin and yang intact.

I wanted to give Lullah a striped hat, like Phil's emote, but I opted to merge it with the mushroom hat. I also left the flowers in her hair because I thought they were very pretty. I wanted to give it a style between punk and emo, but I chose to mix it with the boho style and it suits it well. ALSO I gave him a bone flute, because I read somewhere that someone mentioned that Missa had made him a bone flute and I died of tenderness.

I don't know why I'm giving so many explanations about this, it was just necessary to upload the images and say goodbye, sometimes I feel like an obsessive fool for talking about things too much, but anyway…

I just wanted to share this, see you!!

[sydsaint]

Hey Babe, I was wondering if you wrote for Darby Allin? If so could you possibly write a little fic for him. No pressure, Love you♥

My emo lover <3

Summary: The reader gears up for Revolution and Sting's retirement match. Helping her father and Darby wherever she can.

"Darbs, have you seen my dad today?" You question your boyfriend while digging around for his face paint in your bag.

"I haven't seen him since the airport, no." Darby replies. "Why? What's up?" He tilts his head at you curiously.

You shrug and finally find what you're looking for. "I was just curious." You assure him. "It's going to be weird no having him around every week."

"I think we'll be okay." Darby chuckles. "Plus he's still working backstage once in a while isn't he? So he won't be completely gone." He reminds you.

"That's true." You nod. "Alright, sit down. What kind of design do you want tonight?" You ask him while shaking a face paint bottle in your hand.

Darby shrugs and sits down in a chair next to where you're standing. He pulls his shirt over his head and settles into his seat.

"You can pick." Darby decides after a moment of thought. "You haven't made me look bad yet." He grins at you.

You giggle and shake your head. "I think it'd be pretty hard to make you look bad, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" Darby replies pointedly. "Hey! I'm hardcore!" He protests.

"You can be hardcore and look like a pretty boy at the same time." You laugh and cup his cheek with your free hand. "Now hold still please."

Darby obeys and stops talking for the moment. You start smearing face paint all over one side of his face and begin blending it out for him. Throughout the process of you making Darby's face paint design look right he gazes up at you with adorable puppy dog eyes.

"Do you have to stare at me like that? It's distracting." You grumble to Darby.

"Like what?" Darby replies with a knowing grin.

You roll your eyes at him and switch colors. "Like you're madly in love with me."

"Maybe I am." Darby replies.

"Okay lover boy." You giggle and lean down for a kiss. "There, now you look as hardcore as you claim to be."

You start putting away all your stuff and Darby checks his reflection in his phone. "Do I get an 'I love you' back?" He asks you.

"I gave you a kiss." You protest. "Isn't that enough?" You tease him.

"Coming from you? It's never enough." Darby insists. "Come on." He whines. "I love you. Three simple words. For good luck." Darby comes up behind you for a hug.

You sigh when Darby wraps his arms around you. "You know people might not think you're such a hardcore dude if they saw how clingy you are." You joke.

"What can I say? I'm a lover not a fighter." Darby replies.

"Okay!" You laugh and turn around in Darby's arms. "Tell that to all the times I've had to bandage you up." You remind him. "I love you, you overly-violent idiot. Now go find my dad." You give him a small shove toward the door.

Darby grins to himself and lingers at the door. "I knew you loved me."

"Mhm. Go! Before my dad thinks I stole you." You point at the door.

"It'd be worth it." Darby replies as he heads out the door.

You roll your eyes again with a smile on your face and finish cleaning up.

You hang around in the locker room for a while and watch the show unfold on a tv monitor. Toward the end of the show you watch the Jackson brothers head out to the ring and once again start badmouthing your father and Darby. A fight ensues of course, and you know that you'll be checking Darby for injuries later.

After the show goes off the air you sit and wait for Darby and Sting to head back to the locker room.

"Hey, dad." You greet Sting when he finally show up with Darby.

"Hey, sweetie." Sting nods to you. "How has your day been?" He asks you.

You shrug as Darby walks over to you. "It was fine. You didn't hit your head did you?" You ask Darby.

"I don't think I did." Darby shrugs.

"You don't thin you did?" You repeat him and begin looking at his head. "How do you not know if you hit your head?"

Sting chuckles at your bickering. "You'd better get used to it Darby." He snickers. "With me gone she's about to get ten times worse." He jokes.

"Oh I know I'm so annoying for caring about my boyfriend." You huff.

"I love you too." Darby grins.

Sting laughs and you stop fawning over Darby. Everyone settles down and starts packing up to leave.

"So," Sting prompts you. "How do you feel about coming out to the ring with me and Darby on Sunday?" He asks you.

"Do you want me out there?" You ask in surprise. "Is that even a good idea? I don't want to get in the way, dad."

Sting shakes his head. "You're my only kid that doesn't have to be in the crowd." He reminds you. "Why wouldn't I want you out there."

"Darby? What do you think?" You turn to Darby.

"I don't see why not." Darby shrugs. "I don't think Matt and Nick are the types to mess with you if you're out there. And even if they are, you know I'd never let them get the chance to hurt you." He adds.

You nod, knowing that Darby would go through hell to make sure that you're safe. "Alright, yeah, I'll go out there with you two." You decide to honor Sting's request. "I can play cheerleader for one night. Plus it'll be fun to rub it in the guy' face." You giggle.

"Atta girl." Sting beams. "That's why you're my favorite." He teases you.

"Awe, I love you too, dad." You giggle and hug him.

[straightbaittournament]

may the best bait win! propaganda under the cut:

bellamy and clarke:

They start off as a rivals-to-lovers kind of arc, the actors are married and have a kid in addition to (allegedly) being friends with benefits in the early seasons They have multiple intense romantic moments even while they're with other people, the actors were told to play them romantically and have spoken up about it, and are now married, they once won a "sexiest moment" award despite it just being him pushing her hair back, they get married in the books, they constantly tell each other that they need each other, and call themselves "the head and the heart"

they get married in the books the actors were told to play them romantically for seven years, but in the final season, clarke KILLS bellamy because the showrunner hated his teen girl fanbase. they also had multiple almost-love confessions, and constantly said things like "i need you" and called themselves "the head and the heart"

"m/f pairs who have some kind of weird fucking thing going on that is never explicitly named platonic or romantic" "couples whose romance is teased but never confirmed as such" No matter how much the showrunner tries to deny it, it was quite obvious from the beginning that Clarke and Bellamy were supposed to end up together. But then Clexa happened, and the massive backlash to Lexa's death (understandable) pretty much killed any chance they could manifest that romance. I'm okay with that, because it allows Bellarke a complexity that most straight pairings don't have. But the chemistry, and the chemistry was strong - so strong that the actors got married!

They're canon in the books the show is based on, and their plot seemed like it would be a slow burn enemies to friends to lovers, but the producer actively made fun of fans for shipping it and ended the series with clarke killing bellamy.

janeway and chakotay:

Janeway is the Captain of a Starfleet ship lost so far from home it will take decades to reach. Chakotay is the Captain of a Maquis (rebel) ship also lost there. They decide to work together to get home and combine their crews when the Maquis ship is destroyed, and Chakotay becomes her second-in-command. Because of the seriousness of the situation, Janeway feels that she cannot afford the distraction of a romance and so they never get together. They have NO personal space and look longingly at each other quite often and one episode has them forced to abandon ship potentially forever and they live together in a little house and he builds her a bathtub because she complains about not having one and they share a romantically charged massage where he tells her a made up story about a warrior and the woman who inspired him which he openly admits is made up and actually about them. Also he holds her while she cries about their chance of going back to the ship being destroyed. In a different episode she “dies” and he cradled her body while weeping about it. They also have candlelit dinners regularly and she lent him a copy of the book her ex-fiancé gave her, and every time the show conspires to make one temporarily unaware of the other, they flirt hardcore. An episode designed to show how they wouldn’t work as a couple only makes more people ship them. Also a young version of Janeway meets older Chakotay via time travel and asks him if they’re together in the future despite her being engaged at that point. He declined to answer directly.

they have a lot of Tension thruout the series & a very deep relationship, but Janeway has someone waiting for her back home & Chakotay ends up in a romance plot with another person in the last season (that I personally felt came from out of nowhere but whatever) I rooted for them! I rooted for a str8 couple! I did not care that Janeway had someone waiting for her back home even tho I usually do! but I did not care! they deserved to fuck!

[notsoblackandwhite101]

Na'lright, so that last ask made me lose my damn mind. Spent the last few hours doing this! Behold, Fergus's family tree... currently. I may tweek it down the line. I previously said in past asks that Fergus was being raised by his parents and siblings in London, but I'm altering that!

Fergus's mum, Vivienne, was born and raised in Ireland, youngest of three pups. Her family were hardcore wild foxes, who rejected all facets of 'civilized' society. They hunted for their food, lived in burrows, ect ect. Only Vivi didn't vibe with that. She was a bit more lazy. It was so much easier to steal from dumpsters than it was to hunt. There were less hunting dogs in the towns and cities to! This started a big row with her folks and her brother Aidan, until she decided to leave. London was the biggest city around, so she snuck on a ship and made her way over. She enjoyed living in London, away from her traditional parents and brother. Things got a little harder when a one night stand unexpectedly left her expectant, but she raised Fergus the best she could. She taught him all about living in the city and while Fergus is a bit of a runt due to a lack of good food in his kit years, Vivi thinks she did alright! (Extra fun note, Vivienne is based on Fergus's design in the pilot!)

Of course, even if the family had a bit of a fight, they never really leave each other alone. Aidan and his wife would come to visit when they could. Aidan was intent on making his nephew appreciate his wild heritage, and maybe try to turn his life around, unlike his mother. Aunt Keeley is just a soft, go with the flow fox who tried to make peace more than anything, and Findlay is very chatty, though he mostly speaks Gaelic, like most of the family can . (Fergus only knows bits and pieces as his mum raised him in England. Findlay is also still learning English so communication can be tough.) Findlay is also very good at hunting, which can be awkward in London, as Fergus is friends with plenty of the 'Prey' around. (Findlay also has siblings, but I'm too tired to think of them now.)

AND FINALLY Aunt Muriel. Eldest of the three. She moved to a nature preserve in Ireland after her leg was injured. She's a 'Species Representative' who teaches other creatures about Foxes and how they live. Aunt Muriel is rather flat and unenthusiastic. She never wanted kid or to get married. She just dose as she pleases without hurting anyone and expects the same as everyone else. She also has a very sharp wit and tongue to match. Aidan and Vivienne both keep their fighting to a minimum around her, as Muriel tends to put them in their place easily enough.

Oh and Aunt Muriel is literally just Sister Michael from 'Dairy Girls' if you want to see what she's like.

Now these names aren't set in stone yet. I was hoping to find some more traditional Irish names but I'm very tired, so feel free to suggest some! (Also sorry for any spelling errors. Its very late at night/ early in the morning here.)

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Cosplay WIP and Doodle Dump >:3

Haven't really been working on a bunch of digital art lately bc I've been busy working on cosplays and crying over Stolitz XD

But I thought I'd show you all what I've been working on since I'm really excited about it! <3 (So many updates :D)

Let's start with Helluva doodles!

I finally started drawing Blitzø and Fizzy-Frog! <3 Fizzy looks so much healthier in the newst ep I could CRY ohhh my goddd. And both Fizz and Blitzø look so dapper! Little cuties! Little cuties who are friends again! My heart!

Next up: Cosplay props!

We've got a lot of stuff for the Vees, and then a liiiitle bit of Angel Dust progress to show y'all!

Let's start with Vox since I only have one main thing I've made so far!

I had an old pair of headphones that stopped working, and I'd already worn them to costest Vox (since I'm not going for the TV screen approach) and so I thought I could give them a makeover! I decided to do the symbols from his silly little hat, and paint the microphone tip to resemble the little red bauble at the end of his antenna!

I just sanded the labels off, painted everything in acrylic and then sealed it with clear nail polish, pretty simple stuff, but I'm really pleased with the effect! And I think it will be a nice touch for the costume! <3

Now onto Valentino! I have the most stuff for him so far bc everything that wretched man owns is cool AF and I wanted to make, like, all of it XD

I started with the guns from 1x02 ala: "Which of these makes me look sexier ;3" since I thought they were both pretty iconic and I definitely want to film that little clip once my cosplays are ready to go hehe

(My reference Image ^)

This pink one is definitely my favorite, both in the show and based on how it came out in the end! I've only ever built one propgun before this for Jinx, so it was really fun to get back to it again! Lots of math and measurements, but luckily I'm a little racoon creature who hordes recycling like my life depends on it XD Even though he actually bedazzles another gun in the meeting room in 1x02, I was not about to make a third one in the span of two weeks, so I decided to just put it on one side of the pink, and I really love it tbh!

The gold and grey definitely looks a bit more... cardboard-y, but I'm okay with it tbh, I don't love the design of this one as much, so I probably won't be using it on it's own as often as the pink! But I still think it turned out well overall! Especially bc by the time I got to this one my exacto-blade was crapping out on me hardcore lmao

I also have two hand options ready for Valentino! I noticed that sometimes he has gold claws, and sometimes his hands are fully black, so I thought it would be good to have a couple options!

I went ahead and ordered some pleather gloves which I think work really well for him on their own, but then I also took some fake nails and layered them with gold acrylic paints and clear nail polish to make his 'actual' hands. I figured if I need a particular close-up for a shot it would be really cool to use black facepaint on my skin, and then have these nails stuck on! I just used eyelash glue to test out affixing them last night, and I think it actually worked super well!

Since the nails are pretty, well, claw-like I don't want them on all the time, but I still need them to stay when I'm moving around in costume, and I think the eyelash glue is kind of the perfect things for my at-home cosplay needs! I'd definitely want to do something stronger if I was going to a con in these, but yeah - XD I'm rambling, anyways -

Let's move onto Velvette!

I had an extra set of gold nails I'd made, that I was originally planning on attaching to the gloves (I did not like how that looked lmao) but I didn't want them to go to waste, so I used some of the little gems and do-dads that I had laying around to make them match one of the bra-tops I'm planning to use for Velvette! (Yes that sparkly orange and pink thing on the left is what I tried to match it to!)

I have a plethora of blank fake nails now, so I think it would be really fun to make a pair that matches each of Vel's outfits! I hyper-fixated on nail art for a couple years when I was a kid, so I'm really excited to play with those skillz again lmao - especially because I can use acrylic paint for these instead of nail polish which really cuts down on cost and expands my color ranges exponentially!

The last thing I have to show you for the Vee's specifically is the wigs I ordered for them! (I want to scream, I'm so excited!!!!)

(All of these are from Wig Is Fashion btw, notspon or anything I just have really loved their wigs so far! I really hope these three work well!)

Finally, my gloves for Angel and a couple of my colored lights for filming came in, so I just threw on one of the outfits I have ready for him, the wig I styled, and the gloves to get a feel for how it was coming along :3

I think I want to get different little shorts for this look (maybe pleather?) and figure out a couple other details to add in, because I feel like there is currently too much 'blank' space in the look. I'm sure that will be lessened by the makeup, set, etc. But I want to make sure the extra looks I have for characters still feel 'designed'/styled well, obvi.

Anyways! Lots of work to do, and I still need to buy a new sewing machine so i can make some of the actual outfits from the show, but it's all a process lmao

I'm planning a full-on Angel CMV atm, as well as a ton of other videos, but that's all a ways away lmao, I wanna really put effort into it which means time haha

I did already post some little Cherri, Angel, Vox and Charlie closet-costests to my TT if y'all are interested! I've also made Millie and Blitzø horns, but tbh I just can't be assed to get pictures of all of that rn XD if you look at the most recent (as of rn lmao) 'cosplay updates' vid that's up, you can see the horns, wigs etc that I didn't show in this post!

My main links are all right here if you want 'em: https://lunchtimebedamned.carrd.co/

And with that I'm going to go have brain-off time LMAO I've been working non-stop for weeks on this. I'm also sorry to anyone waiting for the Ch.4 update on The Space Between Us, this chapter is deciding to be very slow-going and difficult. IRL stuff is probably heavily contributing to that, but oh well. Know that I am working on it <3

[rreskk]

LONG HEADCANONS: North Yankton edition

Because I’m a sucker for the North Yankton boys :( I wish there was more for us to see. 

TW:  -Suggestive content (sexual)

-Trevor, Brad, and Michael claimed ‘paradise city- Guns and roses’ as their theme song.

-Trevor was pro at the macarena when it came on during clubs.

-They always got fines due to the damage the left after every motel stay…

-Once Tracey was crying as a baby and Amanda struggled to calm her down. Trevor held her and suddenly Tracey stopped crying and fell asleep. Amanda was oddly disturbed.

-Michael and Brad would get into drunken fist fights.

-Trevor helped shave Michael’s hair every now and then.

-They all kissed each other at least once… Some more than others *cough cough* trikey.

-Amanda mentioned she liked one of Michael’s friends before (Brad) and probably got it off with him, more than once. This may be the reason Michael held a grudge against him.

-They all shared the same clothes.

-They had to skip towns because one of Trevor’s one night stands recognised him from the newspaper after sex and called the cops.

-Michael was always the designated driver.

-Trevor didn’t have a legal licence until after North Yankton and Michael’s fake death.

-They gave each other small hidden tattoos. (As Michael would mention learning how to and writing his name on someone’s ass… *COUGH COUGH* TREVOR).

-They had to deal with Trevor’s mother once a month when she was released from prison/or finally decides to turn up after leaving… Again. She strangely adored Michael. She treated him like a son more than Trevor.

-Before Trevor was balding, he had a man bun (AND I STAND BY THIS).

-Trevor dressed all funky with the moustache because he wanted to look like this porn star he crushed on.

-(Now he unironically looks like a porn star without trying).

-Trevor was the first person to hold Jimmy and Tracey after Michael and Amanda.

-He fainted when he first saw Tracey (because it was his first time seeing a new born that is partially important to him).

-Bradley dyed his hair blonde because he was secretly growing grey.

-Trevor quit smoking months prior to prologue.

-Brad had a part-time job as a warehouse supplier but soon quit after Trevor invited him into his group with Mikey.

-Brad owned a pet snake and the guys would prank each other with it by putting the snake under their bedsheets while one of them would be napping. Safe to say it died after a couple of times : (

-They ALL argue over the radio when going on a roadtrip skipping towns.

-Following that theory: Brad’s a fan of 80s classic hits (pop), Trevor’s a fan of 70s new revolution of hardcore punk and heavy metal, Michael’s a fan of late 80s rock.

-Michael really wanted to visit Russia.

-They went on vacation together once near a seaside resort but fled after Trevor strangled a person in broad daylight. Apparently they insulted his burger and beer choice.

-Tracey used to call Trevor dad accidentally and Amanda had to ban him from seeing her for a few weeks. Michael also held a grudge on Trevor for that.

-Brad and Michael used to have snow fights… Aggressively and passionately. Like they imagined the snow to be bullets. Because they hated each other… Trevor thought it was cute (unaware as fuck).

-Trevor used to attract all the older women and he’d come home with braided hair and red lipstick marks on his cheeks because… Well, that 70s porno look clearly made him a heart-throbber.

-All of them were oddly strong. Probably used the gym a lot when in prison.

-Before Michael made it official with Amanda, Trevor would have a few long-term relationships that failed due to his mental health. When Michael announced his engagement with Amanda, this would make Trevor jealous and spiteful (because he struggled to keep relationships himself).

[partywithoutsmiling]

how did you find your way into the trolls fandom? What lured you in?

I got more interested in the fandom since 2020 actually, when World Tour dropped. Pretty sure that was the time that I actually made this blog, with plans of contributing- buuuut life got in the way rather messily and that made it hard to keep any investment into anything for long.

But I have been naturally aware of Trolls since the first movie dropped in 2016- especially has been aware of it ever since the very cringy teaser for it dropped XD

The first movie... didn't really win me over, not by itself pf. The whole odd cinderella story aside, the trolls themselves just didn't feel hashed out to me? And their design kinda creeped me out a little bit XD (2016 Poppy especially hits some kind of uncanny valley area for me lol)

Aesthetically, it was kinda off putting- the saturation has been too over the top in certain parts, and the lighting was really odd- even in well lit areas, all of it just seemed too dark and as an artsy person, that really bugged me pft. Story wise, it also seemed like your typical clishe 'Cheery and Moody people forced to spend time together, eventually falls in love' so yeah, I was not impressed by Trolls 2016 XD

Then, Trolls World Tour hit the streaming- and I got *very* interested in the sudden expanded lore. I know there is, for some reason, a prevalent hatred by some hardcore Trolls 2016 fans? (I mean, eh, I personally think that the first movie is weakest of them all but ehhh) But anyway- edging away from Trolls just being little dancing and singing oddballs and making them part of a varying species with complicated culture and history- that really spoke to me. I know the ending is really controversial, as it ended kinda too 'and everyone is friends now', but I liked the allegory about erasing cultures, either from outright hostile takeover (Barb) or through well meaning pity (Poppy)

This movie also made me a Broppy shipper XD Because it was *so* refreshing to actually see that no, their love confession in the first one wasn't about romantic love- but it was just admitance to caring and affection in general, platonic, nothing romantic at all. The fact they didn't keep his overly saturated colours after True Colours, and kept him muted in the sequel, also really pleased me, as no, it will take a while for Branch to heal from his ordeal in life and it's not always a smooth ride (As a person dealing with depression, I appreciate that).

Their characters also felt more genuine if that makes sense, more fleshed out. I know people complain about Snack Pack being pushed aside, but, honestly, they don't have much personality in movie one, and I didn't expect them to continue have one in the sequel; I browsed through Beat Goes On maybe once, and I can adapt some of their cartoon personalities, but otherwise, I can't say I care much for canon Snack Pack XD (Kudos to all the fanfic writers who actually made them real living and breathing beings, you are the real heroes of the story pff)

And of course, I do have to mention the whole artstyle and design choice of the movie. More than ever the world of Trolls looks like someone's crafts project and I love it- it's so original, and so different from what we are used to seeing- and not only they made their designs more rounded, softer, making them loose that uncanny valley feeling, the lighting also got exponentionally better. The colours are not as aggressivelly saturated and lean more into pastels, and it definitelly fits them better.

Then of course, Trolls Band Together hit the theatres late 2023 XD I can't say I have been that impressed by the trailers? They seemed very... hmm, clishe? XD But I decided to give it a watch anyway and realized that they are finally owning what they always were meant to be - a silly, clishe, nostalgia filled jukebox musical XD Essentially, instead of trying that hard, they decided to just have fun, and you can see they are having fun making these silly movies now

(Also Velvet's and Veneer's final escape chase scene set to Sweet Dreams is a bloody banger and I haven't been so entertained in ages lol)

To wrap it up, Broppy XD Honestly, their whole relationship growth over the course of the three movies is just fantastic (and in the holiday specials! if you havent watched the one after TWT, I recommend, the feels are real) and I cannot remember if I ever seen an animated movie franchise do a slowburn like this, I really appreciate it, I don't mind that I had to wait years for canon Broppy kiss XD

And honestly, what finished it for me, it's just the lore of the whole world expanding. Being a very creative person, I do like when I have something to bite into and to play with- and with all the sequels now out, I can finally appreciate the story the first movie presented us with- now, finally, it feels like it finally fits in XD

Sorry that was probably too long but pff, you did ask XD

Tldr; Got into the fandom after TWT in 2020 but real life got in the way in contributing; TBT sparked that interest anew and enough that I wanted to finally join for real

I got lured by 90s nostalgia and fun silly craft supplies designs of everything, and also because I am sucker for slowburns and family feels

[gyaru-tau]

Your cubito designs are genuinely so creative and pretty 😭 your missa and phil cubitos are so cool and unique, you leaned in very heavily into the more creature/animalistic aspects which i don't see a lot of people do, i think it's really cool :D! I also love your lullah design <3 the white hair is actually such a good idea and the way you kept the red beanie but separated from that person is so nice as well. You clearly put a lot of thought into your designs <3 how you come up with them :0???

Awh, thank you!!! I'm really glad that you like the more animalistic approach at their designs, since I was a little worried that people might find them a little weird!! I'm also glad you like the white hair idea for Lullah as well, since I wondered if it might be a bit too out there! To answer your question; It's kinda a mixture of coming up with a strong theme and completely winging it until I land on something that looks good to me! You might have read on each reference sheet's description that I came up with a collection of motifs for each character, and those became the sort of ground base for what the designs would turn into! I feel like there's a good balance to be found where you're making good use of your motifs, but not ENTIRELY relying on them if that makes sense. Of course, there are ways to rely heavily on a motif and make it look fantastic (alienssstufff's cubito designs come to mind, and they're prawnestly a huge inspiration for my own character designs. truly the definition of themes and imagery in my personal onion.) but I personally like to try and get more abstract with themes if more of a literal approach doesn't work out! If you're having trouble coming up with themes for character designs, it's good to think about what kinds of imagery they're already associated with, and if those ideas can be expanded upon in a final design. Using Phil as an example, his themes are "Angel" "Solar Eclipses" and "Deep Sleep". All of these were chosen based on things that relate back to him! Many of the q!phil update tweets, both on the old official twitter account and now more recently on Mercy's VOD updates twitter, have him be referred to as an angel in the prose. In addition to this, he and Missa are written to have a sort of sun and moon dynamic on the updates, so I decided to do a twist on that idea by making him and Missa be different kinds of eclipses visually to not only get across those initial sun and moon themes, but also to best reflect their personalities! And of course, the deep sleep theme comes from Q!Phil's hardcore dreams! Finally, it's a good idea to pick motifs (if you're doing multiple for a character) that either blend well together, or lend well to eachother! That's not to say that you can't combine two vastly different concepts together for a character, though. Sometimes those concepts become the most memorable! But either way, I highly encourage finding ways to connect your concepts together so that you can have even more ideas on your belt for a finalized design! So for example, a solar eclipse can kinda look like a halo, which ties in well with the angel theme! I worked from that and made it into something more abstract by using phil's hat to represent it! Hopefully all of this makes sense (i literally just got up so I'm still like. half asleep LMAO)!!! Thank you again for the kind words!!

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: The Saint of Killers

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

I have a confession to make: I enjoy Garth Ennis’ Preacher. Sure, a lot of it has aged like milk on a hot summer day, especially with how it portrays every single queer person in its pages as a freak or degenerate sicko, or how ridiculously edgy and tasteless it gets at points, but I think it has some really good messages in it, some decent dark humor, and even some cool and enjoyable characters here and there. And among the crazy cast of characters is the antagonistic cowboy killing machine known as The Saint of Killers.

A former Confederate soldier who reveled in killing, he one day met a beautiful woman and started a family, making him realize there was more to life than killing. But when they fell ill, he failed to save them due to the machinations of outlaws; after this he went on a brutal killing spree, even taking innocent lives. The last innocent life he took wasted his last bullet, and he was killed and sent to Hell which he froze over with his own hatred, He was made the new Angel of Death to get rid of him, he went on to kill some more, but not after shooting Satan’s brains out. Heaven eventually decided he was too hardcore, and put him to sleep until they need him for an assassination mission which leads to him tanking nukes, killing everyone in his way, and even killing God.

...Jesus fucking Christ, when I write it all out it sounds even edgier and more ridiculous than I thought. But is there any value in the grizzled Clint Eastwood wannabe? I mean, Empire ranked him #43 in their list of the 50 Greatest Comic Characters of All Time, What Culture put him at #57 on their list of the 100 Greatest Comic Book Villains of All Time, and IGN ranked him at #74 on a similar list. Are these publications crazy, or is he really that good at being bad?

Motivation/Goals: Killing is his goal. It is quite literally in the name. Specifically, he’s woken up by the angels to hunt down and kill our protagonist Jesse Custer for having the power of the Word of God.

Final Fate: After everything is said and done, the man just sits down in a nice, comfy chair and goes to sleep. Sound anticlimactic? Well of course it does, I’m oversimplifying it. Read the next section for more elaboration.

Best Moments: By design, this dude has the most badass scenes in the entire comic. There’s tanking a nuke and of course his entire backstory is a pretty great, grim Western that features his God-ordained fall from grace and his sheer hatred freezing over Hell before he shoots Satan in the face, but I think his best moment is at the end of the comic which has the most badass, over-the-top edgy thing you could possibly do followed by a very bittersweet, poignant, and peaceful moment:

Here we have the former, with the Saint straight up killing God. Not that God didn’t deserve it in the world of Preacher (but that’s a Psycho Analysis for another time), but you can’t really deny what an edgelord move having your grimdark brutal vigilante Mary Sue cowboy killing God is. But that moment is then followed by this one:

No words. No dialogue. His mission is finally complete. He can’t have any redemption because even he knows he can’t really get that, and damnation is pretty much out of the question too. As he put it, he just wants to rest, and he does in a world now free from the cruel manipulations of a selfish and uncaring God. In a way, this scene completely sums up Preacher: Edgelord violence and religious mockery mixed together with some deep character moments and actual heart and meaning.

Best Quote: This man spouts off badass one-liners like it’s his other job (besides, y’know, killing), but I think the one that takes the cake is from one of the above mentioned scenes. What does this man say after tanking a fucking nuke? Well...

Final Thoughts & Score: The Saint of Killers is basically the avatar of Garth Ennis’ work, for better or for worse.

On the one hand, he is perhaps one of the most ridiculously edgy characters ever created. He’s an unstoppable juggernaut of a cowboy with a grim and gritty past who has guns who can kill everything; he reads like the sort of thing a child would come up with while playing. It’s hard to argue that the Saint isn’t in many ways a Mary Sue of the highest order. But I think that overall edginess is, in the context of Preacher, very charming.

The Saint is edgy and over-the-top, but it’s never in a particularly annoying way, and he’s used just sparingly enough that you actually find it cool when he does his ridiculously badass feats such as killing his way through Heaven and Hell. If he was the protagonist of the story and we followed him all the time, he’d be boring, but the only time he’s really the main focus over Jesse is when we get his backstory which features him having the absolute worst fucking time imaginable. It also helps that, by token of being an invincible villain who can’t really be killed, he has to be delayed from his goal with lateral thinking. Jesse uses the power of the Word at first to catch him by surprise, but subsequent encounters don’t allow that, so escaping him becomes more of a challenge. It’s kind of like a comic book equivalent of Pyramid Head or something, where you need to just get the fuck outta there or use your wits to avoid him.

All of this means one thing: For once, Ennis’ edgy obnoxiousness managed to stumble into something good, good enough to get an 8.5/10. I mean, let’s be real, it’s hard to fuck up a grizzled badass cowboy killer, and if his time with Frank Castle taught us anything it’s that Ennis is very good at handling murderous vigilantes. This is an example of him playing to his strengths instead of his usual style of steamrolling everything he doesn’t like under his biases. I guess he can take pride in knowing he created one of the best Mary Sues of all time, and one of only a handful of Confederate characters who are actually interesting. He definitely deserves his ranking on those “Best comic book villains” lists, though I think it’s good he never cracks the top 50. He’s great, one of the best, but I’m not sure I’d call him “Top 50” best.