#hyperfixation so strong it made me decent at art
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I can feel you all around me…
Couldn’t decide lol.
Posting my art is a big step for me so I gotta throw this out before i start to hate it.
Just in case: My watermark is Ghost bc I go by Ghost on other platforms.
#gravity falls#tw blood#art#my art#fanart#stanford pines#ford pines#bill cipher#ignore how it barley looks like ford#as seen on tiktok#the book of bill#gravity falls fanart#billford#kinda?#fake toxic yaoi fans when real toxic yaoi come at them#hyperfixation so strong it made me decent at art#self promo?#Tried bromine and Blacklight
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Loops and Steel — L.Howlett
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader
Summary: Your love for crocheting is apparent across the whole school, but a sense of reluctance clouds your vision at the thought of gift-giving towards Logan.
CW/Tags: fluff, kinda drags idk I'm sorry, REALLY stupid ending, not proofread I'm too lazy and it's sinus season, we have time manipulation powers guys, no use of Y/N, don't like don't read.
A/N: HELLO long time no fic guys (I'm going insane please help) this is honestly like so stupid idk why it's so FUCKING long hello???? Ik it's alr in the tags but the ending is like so extremely fucking stupid I'm humiliated....... Anyways guys try to enjoy this hahahaahhaha don't flame me pls
WC: 2.4K (holy SHIT girl) / Navigation
You had a thing amongst the X-Men— you were notorious for crocheting impromptu gifts for everyone, predominantly for winter use. No one in their right mind would voluntarily wear yarn in the summer, unless they had a thing for heat strokes.
Well, to be fair, the craft store situated nearest to the mansion only sold the hefty type of yarn, so you physically couldn’t make anything light. But still.
Your hyperfixation on fibre arts had reached most of them— Scott with earmuffs which could be worn comfortably over his visor without disrupting the toggle, Storm and her suit-complimenting beanies, and Rogue who had received so many pairs of gloves she had to dedicate a whole drawer for them in her room. At this point, you'd woven your way through the whole mansion, pretty much everyone having received a small gift; the students with a 70% chance of having a simple keychain.
Everyone, except Logan.
It's not that you weren't fond of him—in fact, he was even up there with Rogue and the others— it's just.. he was always so reclusive. Yeah, you could hold a decently consistent conversation with him without breaking a sweat, but he seemed the type to brush gifts or tokens of appreciation off without a second thought. That’s what made you contemplate bestowing your handmade offerings of affection upon him.
If you wanted to say you were afraid of impending rejection, it wouldn’t be true. You’d handed some keychains to a few uptight kids you taught, and the sight of the metallic glint attached to a scrap of vibrant yarn in the rubbish didn’t affect you. Perhaps it was because they were only a clique of immature youngsters, but your ego wasn’t usually even touched that easily no matter the level of maturity.
So why were you so uncertain?
Inwardly, you somewhat knew that there was a chance— you craved his validation. Which was really, very pathetic. Your ego was not nearly as inflated as his, but acknowledging the info would undoubtedly have an effect on it, so you kept the classified data under lock and key. Well, maybe Charles knew. But even if he did, he fortunately kept your dignity intact.
Nevertheless, you’d gotten tipsy humiliatingly early in the night after spending quality time with Ororo and ended up stumbling back to your room, determined to overcome your inner wimp and make something for Logan. You brainstormed for approximately 7 minutes before coming with a conclusion; gloves. Just like the many pairs you'd created for his ‘friend’.
‘I’m your friend, not your father,’ the idiot stated. Bullshit. Abso-fucking-lute bullshit. You heard them when passing by in the corridor on the way to a class and had to restrain using your powers to rewind that short burst of time just so you could shut Logan up and shove those words right back up his ass.
But unfortunately, you realised a little too much time later— after the alcohol-established period of boldness had subsided, of course— that you were still very much a pussy. Perhaps you were lost in the suppression of the alcohol, because you'd somehow already ended up with a pair of specialised gloves with slits, strong magnets fastened to the edges which accommodated the adamantium of Logan's claws.
If everything fell into accordance with your brainstorming, the magnets would automatically adjust to the position of the protruding metal under his skin every time he slid them on. Damn it, why weren't you this creative when you were sober? Maybe you should drink more. If only you had his healing factor; then your liver wouldn't be fucked for life.
You glanced up at the clock on your bedroom wall, bracing yourself for the ridiculously early time unavoidably displayed upon the aged face.
10:21 p.m.
Fucking hell. Basically the whole goddamn mansion was still up, the younger kids an exception. It was a weekend, after all.
After a short-lived interval of contemplation, you concluded two options. You had the option of using your energy and abandoning the project without physically undoing the whole thing; pretending it never happened, or B, actually fucking overcome your disconcerting fear of giving Logan a gift.
You'd deeply considered the first option.
Very. Deeply.
But in a self-ball-kicking resolution, you chucked your own uncertainty far, far down your throat and decided on simply marching over to Logan and handing him the navy pair of gloves.
⊰⊹ฺ
Mentally uttering repeated strings of curses, you approached his bedroom door— you figured that was where he was, anyway. He wasn't in his usual place; the grimy couch in front of the fireplace which was almost literally hanging on by a thread.
Earlier, you'd taken a glimpse at the contents of the fridge in hopes of a tasty Swiss roll miraculously appearing, but instead noticed the fact that there was no beer. To conclude, Logan was probably restraining himself from impaling Scott and fermenting him into his own ‘Cyclops-made Heineken’.
Your hands fidgeted with the stitches on the openings for his claws, thumb running over the cool, metallic surface of the small magnets. God, why were you stressing this so hard? Logan was just a guy with kitty claws and a half-assed personality. He wasn't that intimidating, especially when dormant and presumably partially asleep by now. He was—literally— an old man at heart. The dude probably couldn't even stay up past 11:30.
Ultimately, you took a sharp breath before raising your free hand and firmly rapping at the door twice. Your ears picked up the faint rustle of a page turning and the brief thud of a book cover falling shut.
He was reading? Damn, guess your old man description was accurate after all. A shift of position, and the creak of a wooden chair groaning under his weight. “It's open.”
You skeptically twist the knob and push on the door, poking your head through the crack before stepping in and gently pushing it shut behind you. He's leant against his table in a semblance of leisure, gaze fixed on the metal of his dog tags as he wipes them with a thin tissue.
Your own gaze drifts to his tousled sheets, zeroing in on the faint outline of a bulky book poorly concealed by the covers. You have to curb the grin threatening to spread onto your face at the sight. He's embarrassed.
Tragically, an unsuccessfully stifled sound somewhere between a snort, a giggle, and a spray bottle escapes your throat, “I didn't know you could read.”
The hands on his necklace halt as he looks up at you cautiously. “...What?”
You smile with feigned innocence, “I didn't know you read.”
He cocks an eyebrow, scoffing out a dry laugh. “That wasn't what ya said the first time. And I don't read.”
You suppress a snicker at his clearly veiled shame and nod over to the vague outline under his blanket. “What's that, then? Sure as hell isn't a woman.”
His eyes narrow in on you as he rises, sauntering over menacingly like he was in some type of slasher. Your smile only widens. You decide to just taunt him even more, even though it probably wasn't the greatest idea to do so to someone with metal claws. But even if you did get attacked, you could travel back and act as if it never happened.
He glares down at you, head tilted. You thought you glimpsed a twinge of humour behind the hazel, and it only adds fuel to the fire. “Whatcha readin’? Pride and Prejudice? Little Women? I presume it's a classic— y’know, considering your ag—”
An unprompted, somewhat restrained grin crawls onto his lips as he cuts you off, “Why’re you here, bub? ‘Cause 'm sure as hell you’re not here just to ask for a goddamn book review.”
Fuck. Gloves.
Heart abruptly starting to hammer in your chest, you nonchalantly shove a hand in your pocket and squeeze the coarse yet soft material of the acrylic yarn. You swallow thickly, fidgeting with a fuzzy you somehow already managed to get your fingers on, heat dragging down your ears and spreading across your face. Gosh, you probably look mortified right now.
You swear under your breath, fumbling the gloves out of your pocket. “Right—” you clear your throat, displaying them out in front of you like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. A flash of curiosity crosses his features; a cloud moving past the sun. Well, the other way round. If that was scientifically possible.
“I made these for you.” You toss them at him and he swiftly catches them mid-air, all while you stare at the fibre like you half expected each individual stitch to spontaneously combust. You unfortunately weren't Scott, so you couldn’t laser-eye the thing. “Figured freezing your fingers off might— uh—cramp your little ‘best there is at what I do’ thingy.”
He gives the intricate stitching a once-over, turning the solid navy gloves over in his hands. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips and an eyebrow raises curiously as he regards the claw openings. “Made ‘em for me?”
The rhetorical inquiry makes your eyes almost instinctively roll. “No. Made ‘em for fucking Magneto. Of course it's for you. Who the fuck else has claws?”
He slips one on and hoists an accusing eyebrow at you. “Don’t get ya panties in a twist, Time Bomb. Look like Pyro jus’ blew a fire in your face.”
You defensively fold your arms in front of your chest, trying your level best to ignore the itch to lift a certain finger situated between your index and ring. “Hey, you're not exactly a joyride to talk to, let alone give a gift.”
He scoffs, sliding the other glove on and flexing his fingers. “You tryna bend my bones? I can feel ‘em followin’ the magnets. Neat trick, though.” Unexpectedly, he pops his claws out with a snikt, prompting you to reflexively flinch and step back. “Jeez, Claws! Watch the face.”
He groans, “God, you're a diva.”
“What can I say? Sort of a package deal with the whole ‘Time-Waster’ schtick. You're way more of a diva than I am anyway,” you grin sarcastically bright.
There's a glimmer of amusement in the green-ness of his eyes, and you unfortunately find yourself reveling in it.
Turning on his heel, he clicks his tongue once and nods in a gesture for you to get on the bed. The action takes you aback by the unbridled directness of it, but you end up crawling up onto the cool covers regardless. “I was just here to give you those, y’know? I can leave if you want.”
He somewhat shakes his head as he settles on the chair opposite your position perched on the edge of the bed. “Stick around, ‘s not like I mind,” the words are delivered in his usual sardonic tone, but you detect an underlying sense of insistence.
Fuck. Was he laying the charm on real thick tonight, or were you just delusional?
You bite the inside of your cheek, scooching back and settling in a little more confidently. “Stick around?” you echo, teasing lilt in your tone despite how much his reassurance affects you. “Since when do you enjoy company? Or do you just wanna sit over there and brood while I talk my tongue off?”
He huffs, the noise more entertained than anything. “Don’t mind when it's yours. Quieter than anythin’ else anyway.”
The words hit you like a blow to the gut with how casual the delivery is— as if he was just making his usual comment on the tactics he could use to get rid of Scott. Inevitably, the warmth already lingering on your face strengthens as you find a response.
“Quieter? High praise. I'm flattered, Howlett. And here I was under the impression that I’m ‘Most Likely to Talk Your Ear Off’ according to my old yearbook,” you laugh dryly, attempting to ease the nearly tangible tension hanging in the air between the two of you.
That half-smirk makes its way back onto his lips as his gaze turns a touch more intent, “Ain't news to me. Still want ya to stay.”
Holy shit. Is he trying to cause you an agonisingly slow death? You were clearly trying to manage this whole interaction with sarcasm, but he wasn't letting any of it slide.
You swallow cautiously, throat suddenly a narrow pathway leading down to your rapidly flipping stomach. Hauling your legs up onto the bed and placing your weight back onto the headboard, you try to alleviate the voice in your head convincing you this was something further than platonic. “Wow. If I knew you were this sentimental I would've prepared a speech before I came in here. Gloves can't nearly be enough.”
He snorts, “Don't push it, bub.”
You raise your hands in feigned surrender, a grin spreading across your lips. “Okay, okay. Fine,” you mutter, brushing imaginary lint off your sleeve in a futile attempt to compose yourself. “How do you like the gloves anyway?”
He looks down at his hands in his lap like he'd just realised he was still wearing them. “Warm.”
You gawk at him incredulously. “Warm? C’mon, I deserve better than that, Log. I crocheted ‘em drunk. Practically risked my fingers. Y’know how I am under the influence— could’ve found a way to fucking impale myself with the hook or something.”
He grunts absentmindedly— gaze seemingly too focused on your face as if he was admiring you more than the gloves. But like him snapping out of a trance, his attention is almost immediately diverted back to the stitching when he processes your statement. “I'll be usin’ ‘em. Smart move for the claws. Don't have to destroy ya hard work when I pop ‘em out.”
Sighing dramatically, you lean back against the back of the bed with your arms splayed behind your head. Taking on your usual route, you taunt him in a flat tone, “Guess that's the highest form of Logan Howlett appreciation I'm gonna get tonight. Have I reached my quota? It's a shame; I'm such a thoughtful, empathetic, charisma—”
A low chuckle graces his reaction as he cuts you off, “God, really testin’ your luck tonight, aren't ya?”
You shrug, a giggle bubbling up your own throat— some of the emotion-filled tension lifting off the atmosphere as you get back to your usual banter, “What can I say? Maybe next time I'll make you a tophat— perhaps a red tailcoat to go with it, if I'm feeling real dedicated.”
He glances up at you skeptically, an eyebrow once again raised as he scrutinises your expression, “Oddly specific, Time Bomb. Ya know somethin’ I don't?”
You beam at him, observing the way it only enhances his skepticism. “Possibly. Somewhere in the far, far future, you're one of the greatest there are.”
Special credits to this song for making me push through the final stretch of this fucking fic 😭😭😭😭
#logan howlett#x men#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#marvel#wolverine x reader#the greatest showman#logan howlett fluff#wolverine fluff#fluff#crochet#idfk what this is#hugh jackman fluff#one shot#i need to sleep#dont flop im gonna kay em ess#x men logan#Spotify
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vent to us about vanny and glitchtrap. how much do you hate them and why, here for the drama
OH GOD where do i even START ( this is said gleefully and i am rubbing my hands together like a cartoon villain )
GENERALLY im not a huge fan of the newer fnaf lore. 1-3 is good purely for nostalgia purposes but generally everything pre pizzeria simulator + UCN? its decent! got some characters you can get attached to while not removing the spooky factor (SECURITY BREACH) you had the dead kids. you had the old creepy bastard getting a taste of his own medicine. a proper conclusion, even if it was the . um. third? proper conclusion in the series
i ALSO love william aftons character. hes horrendous. truly the worst. great antagonist as long as i dont look scraptrap in the...anywhere. he's always been my favorite character, and ive been into fnaf before #3 even came out so you know thats SAYING SOMETHING lmao
takes the cake as my favorite game series of all time. piqued my interest in horror. piqued my interest in art. fnaf is one of my favorite things ever in GENERAL, actually. shaped who i am today! my favorite hyperfixation then and one of my favorites now! if i never got into five nights at freddys, i wouldnt be as skilled of an artist. id have never gotten into online spaces, i wouldnt have the same interests, and id probably be an asshole all things considered. it made me happy for years and years -- i poured so much love into making content for this silly little horror game series and i genuinely wouldnt have it any other way.
anyways then glitchtrap shows up and fucks everything i like about the series
YOU HAD THE DEAD KIDS. IT MADE SENSE. THEY DIED AND POSESSED THE ANIMATRONICS. I KNOW ITS NOT THE 80S ANYMORE IN THE NEW GAMES BUT THE WHOLE DIGITAL SOUL THING OR WHATEVER HE'S GOT GOING ON THROWS A WRENCH INTO EVERYTHING THE SERIES HAS ESTABLISHED UP TO THIS POINT. IT'S NOT THAT IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE IT JUST ISNT...THERE HAS BEEN NO MENTION OF ANYTHING LIKE THIS UP UNTIL THIS POINT. it'd have been more satisfying if springtrap just fucking crawled outta the rubble and then shuffled his decrepit ass at you as you played the game or something. The Adventures Of Springtrap. Springtrap visits and burns down a burger king. Springtrap smashes your head against the pavement simulator. ill take anything. anything but this. please. fuck
It genuinely just makes me kinda sad in a weird way. Whenever im catching up on lore I'll be (reluctantly) accepting new theories about whatever the hell is going on then it gets to glitchtrap and vanny and it feels like someone walked up to my soul with a vacuum and turned it on high suction. what the hell did they do to my boy
right. so we HAD possessed animatronics. we probably still do, i dont know anymore. now we have a glitchy rabbit suit that looks like it smells like piss and apparently contains a serial killers soul. awesome. okay. whatever. if i ignore it, itll be fine. he wont be that relevant, right? i wont have to think about him anymore if i try hard enough WRONG NOW WE HAVE ANOTHER RABBIT SUIT THAT LOOKS LIKE IT SMELLS LIKE PISS
vanny. vanny dearest. vanny sweetie honey pumpkin darling. i fucking hate her
first impression of her was that she looks like she was designed for rule34 artists. shes not scary. shes not intimidating. she looks like a strong breeze would knock her over because her head is ten times the size of her body. toy chica is also guilty of the r34 thing but toy chica isnt associated with glitchtrap and therefore i do not hate her out of spite
i dislike security breach as a whole because it feels like a fnaf fanfic or fan comic series youd stumble upon on deviantart. that being said, fnaf fanfics and fancomics can be really enjoyable- they just dont feel like an actual piece of fnaf content. if security breach is the fanfic, vanny is someones oc that was made because they wanted to draw horny self insert art with springtrap and was unceremoniously shoved into what couldve been an entertaining story
despite my hatred for glitchtrap, he at least kinda makes sense and at least falls in line with fnaf in terms of general vibe. i feel bad for vanny. shes an antagonist. ive never been scared of her. and i cannot stress enough that she 100% feels like she doesnt belong in fnaf. shes the first antagonist to be just Some Person (unless you count micheal in fnaf 4. i dont) and she is fucking useless LMAO she shows up for like 3 cutscenes and barely does anything despite being hyped up and shown in trailers for fucking ever
guess burntrap is also guilty of the 'being useless' thing. i am neutral toward him though. hes got cool claws
didnt even touch on the mind control manipulation thing. god. i would but i dont know enough about it to properly tear it apart and i dont want to invest energy into learning about it
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Bitches who procrastinated so hard that they haven't been productive till they realized it's gonna be September...
It's me I'm bitches
So...I've forgotten this blog again. Was gonna upload or at least plan some drawings that I'm actually gonna put some effort into, not just the usual lazy sketches I've always done. But my brain seems to hate me cuz I've experienced a horrendous art block/ motivation block/whatever shit my dysfunctional brain has been going through the past months.
To distract myself from this curse, I decided to watch a series that I've been meaning to start cuz of curiosity, and that is Soul Eater. At first I thought I'll just give it a watch and then move on after finishing it...boy I was wrong.
Ever since finishing it back in June, it becomes my new hyperfixation up to this day like, DAMN, I was frickin obsessed and kept thinking about it everyday, especially Crona (who happens to be my favorite character of all time!). Who would've thought after watching ep21, I became so attached to this wonderful character 💜 and I've been gushing about them ever since (not here though since this is such a desolate place and the only trace of my hyperfixation that shows here is my babey crona pfp and header quote lmao. All my gushing is on my main where I've been rbing se/crona fanarts all the time)
Anyways, I'm still, slowly but not entirely, getting out of art block. I made a few lazy sketches the past months for practice but I couldn't make a decent doodle no matter I try. It sucks though since I wanted to draw crona and se fanarts SO BAD but my brain won't let me *sigh*
Also I realized after posting some stuff back in April, I kinda gain a few followers. Idk why though, pretty sure y'all won't expect anything from this blog cuz it's pretty much 90% inactive but thanks anyway...
I'll be queueing some old sketches here so that this blog won't be so empty before I abandon it again. The SU Movie's 2nd Anniversary / Spinel's "birthday" is also coming in a few days and I only had one stupid sketch to celebrate it lol. I still love Spinel tho, she's just sidelined for a bit cuz my crona brainrot is way too strong at the moment. One thing's true, I LOVE both of them and they're my comfort characters ❤💜
#my ramblings#this was originally gonna be vent-ish but instead I just want to talk abt my new hyperfixation#delete later?
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High school AU thingamabob
Dark
17 year old senior
class president and is kinda high and mighty about it tbh
“yes i know student council can’t really make any changes without the input of the superintendent but IM THE PRESIDENT AND YOU’RE NOT SO SUCK MY DI-“
does sound/lights for all the shows the school puts on
dating wilford and no one knows how or why they’re together
had a deep as hell voice and a beard the second he hit puberty
takes every ethics/psychology class he can
wants to be a lawyer
that one kid that everyone fears but is actually kinda chill if not a little surly
wears a collared shirt and tie to school every day and would totally get made fun of for it if he wasn’t terrifying
listens to classical music unironically
“oh my god i’m so going to fail this test” *proceeds to get the highest grade in the class*
protector of the gays™️
person: *says something mean to a student because they’re lgbtq+*
Dark: *teleports in front of said student* omae wa mou shindeiru
Wilford
19 year old senior
Yes he still has the mustache
doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks of him
deadass wore a dress to school after one of his friends got made fun of because she wore a suit to a school dance
b u f f a s h e l l
could bench press a teacher if he really tried
on the cheer team
“no i’m not wearing pants, this miniskirt makes my ass look great!”
everyone’s bodyguard
usually attracts a crowd of nervous underclassmen
has mild dyslexia
tol
gives his friends piggyback rides
president of the drama club
works hard enough in school to pass his classes but that’s pretty much it
sleeps in class
Bim
15 year old freshman
vice president of the drama club
wilfords shadow
first freshman to help run the drama club and shoves it in everyone’s face
shouts his gayness from the rooftops
secretly super insecure
loves plants and helps out in the schools greenhouse
named all of the plants but if you tell anyone he’ll stab you
gets mostly B’s and C’s
has mild ocd but not enough to affect him severely
talks like a game show host cause he thinks it makes him sound attractive
it doesn’t
Google(s)
16 year old juniors
identical quadruplets
they have to wear different colors every day or else no one knows which one is which
they’re called the googles because their backpacks match the colors of the chrome logo and they’re super smart
straight A 4.0 GPA students but Oliver has to try a little harder than his brothers
all of them are in the robotics team except for ollie
Blue works on programming and red and green are on the build team
Ollie is the sweetest day of sunshine to ever exist and everyone loves him
he’s basically adopted Eric as his lil bro
tutors people in the library every tuesday and thursday
the other googles disapprove of his relationship with bing but he makes ollie happy so they don’t do anything about it
they all work in a supermarket and they’re saving up for college
ollie wants to be a vet, red and green want to be engineers, and blue wants to be a web developer
Bing
17 year old junior
mostly A’s, a few B’s.
his full name is zachary bing but people call him bing because he’s always trying to one up the googles
dudebro
was pining after ollie for months before chase finally felt sorry for him and told ollie how he felt
they’re dating now and it’s adorable
so soft for his boyf
a really good skater and wins a lot of local competitions
doesn’t study but still gets p good grades
wears sunglasses all the time because he has light sensitivity
Has ADHD
s t r o n k
always challenges people to arm wrestle him
can sing really well and plays gitaur
shares a youtube channel with chase where they skate and to challenges and stuff
Dr. ipiler
18 year old senior
Everyone calls him doc because he helps the school nurse and takes every single biology and health class there is
all A’s
really wants to be a surgeon
best friends with Schneep
huge star trek/harry potter nerd (ravenclaw if you’re wondering)
almost always at schneep’s house studying or just chillin’
kind of a control freak
thinks he’s charismatic but he’s actually kinda annoying
but annoying in a funny way
has a pet ferret that he sneaks into school
feral
espresso and sugar flows through his veins
“i actually got a good sleep last night.” “oh really?” “yeah bro i got a whole half hour!”
super dark bags under his eyes
Host
17 year old junior
all A’s except for in gym class
he has eyes in this
his real name is Simon Charles Teller (there are specific meanings to those names btw look them up) but he’s called The Host because he does morning announcements every day.
has gold eyes and a lot of people find it unnerving
“hey i have a podcast you should totally listen to it”
nocturnal
spends all of his free time in the library
always reading in class but the teachers don’t really care bc his grades are good and he does his homework
wants to be an english/poetry teacher
crushing on the cute shy kid from his english class
doesn’t talk much but he’ll still be nice to you
that one kid who’s always correcting the teachers
Runs the D&D club (he’s the dungeon master)
Eric Derekson
16 year old junior
Mostly high B’s, a couple of A’s.
lives with his uncle mark after he ran away from his abusive dad and is living a happy life
the guy that always volunteers to take care of the class pets over the weekend
animals love him
has anxiety, mild paranoia and autism.
animals, harry potter, and pokémon are his hyperfixations.
he also really likes gardening
crushing big time on hostioli
spends his entire english class staring at him and blushing
is seriously considering joining D&D club just to be able to talk to him
he’s in the art club
wants to be a vet and maybe do some freelance art stuff on the side
Ollie keeps yelling at him to just ask host out already but he’s too nervous
my poor bb boi
Wears sweaters all the time
wears headphones to block out noise if it ever gets too loud at he goes into sensory overload
disaster bi
Yan
18 year old senior
gets C’s
non-binary
has a makeup tutorial channel on youtube and has a pretty decent following
That one weeb
dyes their hair a new color every week
also has a new crush every week
everyone knows who their newest victim is because they never stop watching them
draws anime or cute animals for every art class
wants to be a a fashion designer
does MMA
everyone kinda stears clear of them
writes their first initial along with their crush’s on every notebook they own
has gotten suspended for beating kids up on multiple occasions
doesn’t really have that many friends but they don’t mind
spends their lunches watching their crush
in the drama club and the art club
Randall Voorhees
18 year old senior
C’s and D’s
Eric’s cousin/bodyguard
they have a lot of the same classes and walk everywhere together
loves animals and has like 10 pet rats
he doesn’t really care about his grades because he knows that he wants to be a woodworker/construction guy
makes little houses out of scrap wood for his rats and Eric thinks it’s adorable
always sneaks his rats to school and lets them have play dates with dr. iplier’s ferret
“nO IM NOT RELATED TO JASON VOORHEES HES NOT EVEN REAL SO SHUT THE HELL UP-“
used to live in nyc in queens and still has a pretty strong accent
completely incomprehensible when he’s excited or angry bc of the accent
everyone is jealous of his hair
spends like 100 dollars on shampoo and conditioner and stuff but it’s worth it
acts like the straightest guy in existence but could not be more gay
his boots are always muddy
Yancy
16 year old sophomore
his name is Yancy Bird
g...get it? like jailbird? ahaha...ok i’ll stop
permanent resident of the detention room
but he gets to just chill out and read for an hour so he doesn’t really mind
mostly gets detention for beating up kids that bully others
fuck the system
always wears a leather jacket and blue jeans
“hey, the 50’s called and they want their-“ SMACK. “shut up.”
takes a lot of criminal justice and psychology classes ironically
in the botany club but if you tell anyone they’ll never find your body
everyone is surprised when they find out he’s friends with Eric and ollie
pan but in denial
“i’m not gay guys, that ain’t me, i’m just comfortable with my sexuality. so i can admit when i see a guy with a handsome face and pretty eyes-“
that song is great btw you should listen to it
anyway
always makes really dark jokes and everyone is like “are you ok?”
except for his friends they just laugh
“lmao wouldn’t it be funny if everyone like...died”
#markiplier#markiplier egos#darkiplier#eric derekson#the host#wilford warfstache#yancy iplier#randall voorhees#bim trimmer#high school
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