#i want to draw but i can't draw how they look in my mind

[kayla-and-the-moon]

baby, it's cold outside-! ᥫ᭡.

❄️plot: it's christmas eve and peter just really wants you stay, is that a crime?

❄️pairing: gn! reader x tasm!peter parker <3

❄️tw! : nothing just peter being a sweetpea/ best bf ever / darling dork. (dunno if minimal smooching counts as a tw-)

"god it's storming out there."

in your defense when you'd walked over here, the snow had been light, but now it seemed like the entirety of the world behind the window was a turbulent flurry of white. you'd come here to drop off some Christmas cookies your mom had baked, the problem was what was supposed to be a quick visit had turned into a couple hours.

of course you had one person to blame for that.

peter was practically engulfing you, his arms winding around your midriff and his face burying in your shoulder. you can feel the bastard's evil little grin against your sweater before he gives a hum of faux innocence.

"geez, that's really unfortunate", he tuts, his chin propping up to look at your unimpressed roll of the eyes in the window reflection, "I guess that means you'll have to stay huh?"

"pete, my dad would murder you."

"i think he'd murder me if I let you go out in this weather. so eitherway it's a death-death outcome, sweetheart."

it's honestly unfair how the nerd could turn you to all disarmed and smiley with a simple, dopey wisecrack of his. you have to stifle a snort of laughter before you turn to him with a brow raise. peter isn't deterred, but maybe even more motivated, and only just continues to look at you like you hung the moon itself.

"what? i'm just looking out for my girlfriend" he shrugs, but the stupid grin on his face belies those innocuous brown eyes of his.

you're almost persuaded to stay, but there's that niggling pinch of responsibility at the back of your mind, and you're once again looking outside as if your stared hard enough the sky would clear. no such luck, god, you wished the universe loved you enough to put its snowy tantrum on pause.

"it's not that bad, and my mom might get worried," you try reasoning, already picturing your mother's hysteria wondering if the multiple thugs lurking in new york's alleyways had taken you prisoner ,"really I should go-"

"you'll get pneumonia," he simply states with a pointed quirk of his brows, "plus we can always call."

"you know as well as I do that the cell service is unequivocally wrecked right now."

"then we'll call in the morning, your mom probably knows you're here," he counters, his fingertips drawing a path over your arms, "plus, I think she's caught on you're Spiderman's personal favorite civilian"

this brings a chuckle to slip from you, shaking your head at him.

"you're very pushy, peter parker" you roll your eyes, your arms crossing stubbornly over your chest.

peter can see right behind your facade though, and in all truth, he's feeling giddy as ever. he thinks he's the luckiest guy on earth when you grace him with that sweet smile rivaling sunshine.

"i'd just like to call it opportunistic," peter beams, the satisfaction evident in the glimmers of golden lamplight in his gaze.

"c'mon baby, don't make me beg here" he implores. lord, it should be forbidden for peter parker to call you that, since you have very little faith that your knees wouldn't buckle right that moment.

his hands find the curve of your waist and before you can even whisper the hint of another weak protest, he's dragged you to his bed, letting you fall on his chest with an unceremonious thump. you can't really bring yourself to tell him off, because peter has a way of making you all soft, and sticky with lovesickness. instead you just lean in to press a kiss of cinnamon sugar to his lips, and it's your turn to grin as he chases you after you pull away slightly.

your fingers toy with strands of his mousey brown hair at his nape as you give a theatrically defeated sigh, "okay fine, if you insist."

it's then you wish you could steal peter's camera just to capture the glow in his eyes, at your words, because truly you wanted to save that view forever. his palms rest on the apples of your cheeks, as he gives a low breathy laugh, his nose bumping to yours.

"that took a lot of convincing."

a/n: so this may be kinda rushed, so mind the quality, BUT i miss my tasm ! peter parker ,and i rlly rlly wanted to put out a christmas eve fic, and miss idina menzel and michael buble started this war (frank sinatra too, so blame them). eitherway, hope you liked this tiny lil fic, happy holidays ❄️🎅💕 !!

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?

With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)

2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶��𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”

It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.

He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 

"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."

He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…

He's sort of left completely speechless by you.

“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 

“No way! It’s not finished.”

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 

“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”

You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.

the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.

At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 

“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 

You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 

“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“Moze.”

One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.

Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”

He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.

Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.

 “Hah…how should I pose you.”

Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 

“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”

Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”

He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.

He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[plebbypebblepleb]

Merry Christmas to my lovely moots!!

and almost happy birthday to me~ fufu, it's the 27th if you havent heard me yapping already! :3

So, to begin this, I want you all to know how much you really mean to me. Everyone here has been a huge part of the reason why i'm still doing art. I've been working on this and hinting at it since the start of the month!

I've been so excited to finish this project, and I hope that this will brighten up your holidays. Keep in mind, EVERYTHING IS PLATONIC!!

also, the order doesn't mean anything. it's just random! (i didnt even finish the drawings in this order, so i have actually 0 idea why it's like this lmao)

AND NO !!! I DONT HAVE FAVORITES. PLEASE DONT BE SAD IF YOUR NOTE IS SHORTER THAN OTHERS!! I JUST INTERACT MORE WITH THEM/HAVE KNOWN THEM LONGER. YOU ALL ARE SOOO IMPORTANT TO ME!! I PROMISE GUYS 😭😭😭

✦ Find your @, and read what I wrote for ya! Then, scroll all the way down for a little surprise ;3 ☆

Without further ado, LETS GET IT STARTED! 🩷🎀

@pr3tty-0n-the-inside,

where do i even begin? through my entire time in the outsiders fandom, you've been there and encouraged me throughout it. you complimented my silly crossovers, and we've overall had the best conversations. you've encouraged me throughout the entire magical girl series, and you're a big reason on why that was finished. thank you SO MUCH for being in my life. thank you for randomly messaging me when we became moots. thank you thank you, thank you. I hope you have wonderful holidays, you deserve it.

Your humor is so amazing, and I always find myself laughing whenever I talk to you. I love your roleplay account and just how you interact with people, and I love your personality.

“my fuckass computer unplugged, kill me” poetry. Words of an angel.

also, be a little nicer to yourself :3

@qqtofu,

i know we haven't talked that much, but i really do admire your art so much! you've been a huge inspiration to me, and just looking at your art gives me inspiration to draw! rin is my favorite vocaloid, and gosh, you really do her justice! i mean, how could you not? you're so super talented! and you're super sweet as well, I hope you have a great christmas/any holiday you celebrate, and i'd love to get to know ya better! <3

@charlie-bonkerz,

we've recently become moots, I know, but you still deserve to be celebrated! you have been so super supportive and I always have a smile on my face while reading your messages!

sometimes, I'll admit, I scroll back to that one compliment you gave when I'm feeling insecure about my art. (ponyboy drawing) I keep rereading it and it's been motivating me to continue doing art. Seriously, I can't stress how much those big compliments mean. I don't receive a lot of support for my art irl and your words really do have a huge impact on me.

thank you so much for being in my life, I wouldn't trade your friendship for anything. Also you're stunning.

@deim0sdread,

DALLAS!!!! thanks so so much for being in my life, you've genuinely encouraged me so much, and I couldn't be happier that I'm your friend! your oc was so fun to draw! thank you for your requests on the magical girl series, getting requests always makes my day so much better, and I get so happy whenever people show that they like my art! especially you, when I first saw how much you liked my art, I almost cried. You're the sweetest, merry Christmas / happy holidays (I'm not sure what you celebrate, but have fun with whatever it is :3) 🩷🎀

@sugarberry-beetle,

kk!! :o your oc was so cute and fun to draw! I'm so glad you randomly popped into my messages! our conversations always make me smile, and the way you type is sooo cutteeee 🩷🎀 thank you for calling my art cool, yours is 18.52% cooler than mine!!! >:333 merry Christmas/happy holidays kk!!!! :D keep creating art, id love to see it! and never give up writing! It's so adorable! DALBIT!!!!

@eepyguy1987,

youve been nothing but kind to me in messages and in my inbox! thank you so much, you make me so happy whenever i see an ask/message for you, and you're definitely a highlight of my days! thanks for being in my life!

@magefelixir,

hey there Felix! I know we don't interact much, but when we do, it's always a blast! your compliments and you expressing how much my art means to you is such a huge push for me to keep creating. If I'm going to be honest, that mesmerizer drawing was created in my head because of you! I'm so thankful for you, mwah 🩷

@cheryyy-valancce,

Cherry, you're genuinely such an amazing person and a kind soul. Your encouraging words and just compliments overall have seriously brightened up my days so much. Our endless reblogs talking about random stuff, and our conversations about vocaloid have been soooo sweet. I love interacting with you in character and out of character, because you're just so amazing to talk with!

Being your friend has been so memorable this year, and I couldn't be more grateful. I love you, cherry! I hope you have wonderful holidays!

@greasergirllll,

we haven't interacted much as of lately, but I do remember when we did, and gosh. That was so fun. You encouraged me so much to really finish off the greasers as magical girls series! Thanks so much, really. Im so grateful for our conversations, and I hope we can talk a bit more soon! 🩷🎀🌟 Happy holidays :3

@nexternalknowsthingz,

HEY THERE NEX!!! youve been such a huge inspo to me.. I don't know if you remember but I commented on a post of yours waaaayyyayay before I even started on any outsiders works.. and you responded and called my art cutee...ababahshaba

ok maybe maybe maybe I was squealing and blushing a bit and maybe I was rereading that comment

BUT!!!! gosh, youve seriously encouraged me so much. Your art is always so fun to see, and I love being moots. Thanks so so much for being my friend, and I hope you have amazing holidays! Hope to get to know you more :3

@boxxy-roxxy,

Rui, your art is sooo pretty. I love the down turned eyes and your colors, seriously, you're insanely talented! I'm so honored to be friends with such an amazing artist, and I still cherish that art trade we did. :3 the way you draw Johnny is so cute, and I LOVE seeing new art from you! I've said this before and I'll say it again. Seeing new art from you is like opening a Christmas present! Never stop, because then I'll miss ya!! (Unless you take a break, even then, I'll support you! You're awesome!!🩷🎀)

@six-eyed-samurai,

When I first saw your tokyo rev stuff, I was like, "woah!! that's cool!" and followed you. Pretty soon after were the long ass asks for the texts and such, and I was so happy when you answered them. I'm gonna be honest, I loved reading your authors notes more than I liked reading the actual texts.

Being able to call you my friend has been such a blessing, from the times you put up with my weird requests, all the way to now. Our headcanons have been so fun to make, and yes. In another universe, we're performing APT. with rindou, ran, inupi, and koko. It's been an amazing year, and I loved every second that was spent with you.

yes. you are a masochist. I don't understand WHY YOU ENJOY GRAPE FLAVORED CANDY?! ITS NOT SANE. ITS NOT AND I WILL STAND BY THE FACT THAT YOU BELONG IN AN ASYLUM. ALSO IM NOT WEIRD FOR DRINKING VINEGAR, ITS LITERALLY GOOD. YOURE CRAZY.

im so happy we can bond over Haikyuu, Tokyo rev, and bsd, and I can't wait to see how your novel develops as you keep writing it! You'll never understand how much you mean to me because I lack to vocabulary to express it. I love you so, so much sunny. I can't wait for my next Christmas with you. 🩷🎀🌟

@redfielddoesthings,

Carmim, jeez. I've been putting off your letter for so long since I just didn't know what to write. you're one of my best best friends, and I enjoy your company so much. Talking with you brightens my day in a matter of seconds. I love the way you type, I love your humor, I love your art, I love your ocs, I love your style, I love you. please never ever change.

You've told me many times that you enjoy how enthusiastic I am, even when I ask if I should calm down around you. I never showed it but you have no clue how much that means to me. I've never really had anyone before this that enjoyed how energetic I was, and to finally know what it's like is a dream come true. Your encouraging words and just overall kindness have been motivating me to continue drawing and doing what I love.

Calling you my friend is such an honor, and I'd never trade it for anything. My life was a boring ass textbook before this, but you took some silly little highlighters in a bunch of colors and scribbled all over the pages. you've lit up my life so much and I can't thank you enough. I love you carmim, /p.

also if you ever say "my art isn't all that" ever again I'm leaking our "insiders" chats. 😋😋😋 I WILL STAND FOR NOTHING BUT COMPLIMENTS FOR YOURSELF

ALRIGHT! the final message before I let you guys go on with your Christmas!

Sometimes I forget how much I'm loved, and how lucky I am to have you all in my life. Being friend with you guys makes me so grateful and helps me realize that people DO enjoy seeing my art. I mentioned this in a few messages, but I do not get much support from the people around me regarding my art. Your compliments mean SO much to me, and I couldn't be happier that I've met all of you.

going back to "forgetting how much I'm loved," I'm sure you guys do too. Keep this as a reminder of how much I care about you and how much you mean to me. You deserve everything and more, and I can't stand to know that a world exists where I don't have all of you. I don't wanna think about the fact that you guys may feel that someone doesn't care about you, because I do. I need you to know that I do care and I will always be here for you. I love you guys so much, and I could never be happier.

AND WITH THAT, WE'RE FINISHED!!!🩷🎀

time taken (for everything combined) : ~22hrs 50m

[starogeorgina]

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of child death, blood, oral sex, mentions of cancer, age gap

1.01

Thank you @justinalovee for the pretty header

Exhausted, you snuggle up on the faded green couch, your freezing feet covered by worn-out socks and a wooly blanket. The sound of gunfire and screams in the distance is muffled by the heavy rainfall battering against the windows. Settled down, you open the romance book you found a few days prior while savaging and opening it. The pages were ripped and stained, but it would be an escape from reality, one that you desperately needed. A few hours later, you're so engrossed in the story that the sound of the door of your apartment creaking open catches you off guard.

You glance up, your heart racing, as you see a shadowy figure enter. You reach for the handgun sitting on the side table and aim it at the person. “Take one more step, and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

“Shit, it’s y/n, right?”

You almost shoot the intruder, but don't when you sense a familiarity about them, it was Tess’s partner in crime. “Texas, ain’t it?”

“You can call me whatever you want once you've lowered the gun.” Relief washes over you, but it's quickly replaced by irritation when he dangles a key on the edge of his finger. “Tess gave it to me. She told me to let myself in.”

You lower the gun and place it into the holster on your belt, then get up and snatch the key from him. “Mind telling me why she gave you the key to our home?”

He rolls up his sleeve, showing you the deep cut on his arm. “Tess said you could help patch me up... I can go—”

Of course Tess sent him to you; she had a tendency to volunteer you as a first aider for her criminal buddies. Scoffing, you grip his arm to get a better look at the wound. “It’s deep; you’ll need stitches. I don’t have any numbing cream left, so it’s going to hurt like hell.”

“I can survive a little bit of pain.”

—

As you carefully clean the wound on Joel's arm with a damp cloth, you can't help but feel the weight of responsibility on your shoulder. Your medical supplies were starting to run low, and with more bombings happening than before, you’d definitely need to get some more soon.

And Tess sending strays to your door wasn’t helping.

Joe winces as you gently probe the wound, his muscles tensing under your touch. He looks at you with eyes filled with gratitude and a touch of pain. He holds a torch with his free hand so you can see what you are doing without drawing attention to your apartment with a brighter light on.

“I don't know how to thank you,” he says hoarsely.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Tess is always looking for supplies to bring back to you. I’m guessing you worked in medicine before.”

“This is going to hurt,” you say, before punctuating the first bit of flesh on his arm with the tiny needle. “You smuggle guns and drugs with my sister, right?”

Joel grits his teeth and nods. “I usually just smuggle guns or other weapons.”

“Me and Tess have both picked up extra work over the next couple of weeks. If I write a list of things I need, would you be able to get them for me?”

When he doesn’t respond, you look up and see how tightly his hand is squeezing around your torch. Sighing, you take the torch from his free hand and pop it between your lips. The last thing you needed was him breaking it. A few moments later, you’re finished, and you tie off the ends of the stitches.

“Fuck!” Joel lets out a noise of relief. “That hurt more than I thought it would.”

“Meaty part of the body,” you shrug.

Joel studies the stitches in his arm for a few seconds, then carefully rolls his sleeve back down, then stands. “I'm burning infected in the morning, but you can slide the list underneath my door, Tess can give you my address. I’ll try and get what you need on my next supply run.”

“Cool. You can let me know how many ration packs I owe you once you’ve got them.”

—

Soon as you walk into your apartment, you peel your top that’s sticking to your body with sweat over your head. You sniff it before tossing it onto the heap of dirty clothing on the floor. You glance over at Tess, who is watching with an amused expression on her face.

“What?”

“Expecting it to smell like roses, huh?”

“I smell of sweat, smoke, and death.” You walk by her and into the small kitchen to start boiling a pot of water. “Anything else you want washed?”

Tess shakes her head. Washing was a luxury you didn’t always have, but since the generator was working in your building, you’d take advantage of the opportunity while it was there. Once the water was boiled, you’d pour it into the bathtub, wait for it to cool down, then clean your hair and body, then wash the pile of dirty clothes. The color the bath water would turn afterwards would no doubt turn your stomach.

“Joel stopped by earlier,” she says, holding the cup of shitty coffee close to her lips and breathing in its smell. “He dropped off a couple of first aid kits.”

“Thank god, I had hardly anything left.” You open the door to the cupboard you keep your ration packs hidden behind a slab of wood. “What did he want for it?”

“Nothing.”

You snap your head up to face her. Nobody does anything for free these days. “Come again?”

“He says your square for stitching him up.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you say.

A small smile pulls on your lips; at least you got to hold onto your ration packs for a little longer.

“What’s with the blood?”

You look down at your stomach and see the dried-in red patches. “It’s not mine. A couple of FEDRA soldiers got into a scuffle, so instead of getting a real medic, they asked me to clean them up. Nothing major, just a broken nose and burst lip.”

She chuckles. “I did try to warn you that this would happen. You made your own bed the moment you spilled on working in a hospital in your past life.”

—

As you carefully clean the wound on Joel's knee, you can't help but notice the tension between him and Tess. When you arrived home, the two of them were arguing, but all you overheard was Joel saying your sister was getting greedy, and she thought he needed to toughen up.

Tess was already a teenager when you were born, so growing up, you idolized her and have never seen her as anything other than fearless, so hearing her say Joel needs to be tougher made you question what the hell they were up against.

The threats within the quarantine zones have been getting worse lately; the firefly attacks have increased, and with the sounds of screams echoing through the walls of your apartment building, you assume one of the men who died in the bombing a few hours before was important to someone in your building. Tess was now pacing the room, her face drawn with worry. She keeps glancing at the window, as if she can see beyond the grimy glass to the dangers lurking outside. You can tell she's afraid, but she won't admit it.

Not yet anyway.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground to get a better look at Joel’s wound, you casually ask, “So what did you cut yourself on this time, Texas?”

“Cut it on barbed wire.”

“Trying to jump a fence or—“

“Don’t,” Tess hisses. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

She was right to an extent; you didn’t really want to know what lawbreaking your sister was doing; it would only keep you awake at night worrying about her. But a part of you wanted to know how Joel was involved. You wanted to know more about their relationship and if it was platonic or something more.

—

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Although you lived with Tess, you hadn’t seen much of her over the past few weeks. One of you had either been working or sleeping while the other was home. The two of you moving the bodies of the dead from the back of a truck into the fire pit was the most time you’ve spent together in a while.

“Ask away.”

“What’s going on between you and Texas? Are you guys sleeping together?”

She scoffs, her nose scrunches up with disgust. “Of course not. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

“Fair enough.”

The air reeks of smoke and ash as you heave another corpse onto the pile. Its limp form hits the ground with a heavy thud, sending up a cloud of gray dust into the air. The acrid smell of burning flesh fills your nostrils, making your stomach turn. You readjust the bandana covering your nose to try and keep the smell out, but it has little effect. You’d definitely need to scrub hard later to try and remove the smell of death from your skin.

Tess stares at you intensely. “Y/n...”

“I was just asking because he’s always at our place. I didn’t know if you two were fucking or planning different ways to dig yourselves deeper graves.”

In the blink of an eye, Tess is standing in front of you. She pulls her own bandana down so there’s nothing muffling her voice. “Let me be clear: I value Joel; he’s a good friend. He’s the guy you want around when shit goes down, but he’s not a good person. Me, and him have both done unthinkable things to stay alive.”

“He’s the muscle; you're the brain.”

She nods slowly, “something like that. I don’t know Joel’s full story; he’s reserved. And he can stick his dick wherever he likes as long as it doesn’t interfere with our business.”

Before you can say anything else, another truck loaded with bodies pulls up. “Oh shit, it looks like it’s going to be a double shift.”

—

Joel appears at your apartment a few nights later, with an unopened bottle of whisky in his hand. “I heard you had a shitty day.”

Without saying anything, you open the door, letting him in. Tiredly, you rub at your eyes before getting two glasses from the cupboard. Joel opens the bottle and then pours the whisky into the glasses. You assumed the news of what happened earlier in the day affected him as well.

Licking at your lips, you mumble, “It doesn’t matter how tough you are; the death of kids is always hard.”

He takes a massive gulp before slamming his glass onto the table and pouring himself another. “Fuck, yeah.”

You go over to the couch, zip open one of the cushion covers, and pull out a packet of cigarettes. “Want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Neither do I, usually.”

You pull out one cigarette, then tuck the packet away again. You only ever smoked while stressed. “Five kids, five fucking kids lives gone within seconds.”

A bomb was supposed to be planted underneath the death square where they hang criminals, but something had gone wrong, and the firefly transporting the weapon set it off early, killing himself and anyone in close proximity, including five innocent children.

Sometime passes before you finally speak again. “Tess told you about Michael, didn’t she?”

Joel nods as he comes and sits beside you. “She mentioned you had a son who died.”

“Michael was diagnosed with leukemia when he was two; he died just before his sixth birthday.”

“I’m sorry.”

You take another shot of your drink and say, “He’s the reason I became a pediatric nurse.“

“What about his dad?”

“Probably dead,” you snort. “Paddy, my high school sweetheart, didn't like the idea of being a teen dad to a sick kid so bailed.”

“That’s shit.”

You sink further into the couch. “What about you Texas? What’s your story?”

“I’m going to need a whole lot more liquor for that.”

—

You and Joe huddle close together in the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. The whisky was going down far too nicely, as Joel told you how he married his ex when he found out she was pregnant, but after his daughter was born, his wife left one day, and he didn’t hear from her again until she sent him divorce papers. Joel’s daughter, Sarah, died at the start of the outbreak after being shot by a soldier.

“Who knew we had so much in common?” you whisper, your voice hoarse from the cheap whiskey. “But at least we don’t ever need to see our assholes ex’s again.”

A dark chuckle passes his lips. “You’re just always looking for that silver lining.”

As you both finish your drinks, you lean in closer to Joel, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You close your eyes and imagine a different world, one where the outbreak never happened.

—

As the months went on, Joel would visit you more frequently; sometimes he had alcohol, other times he brought dinner. You tried not to look too much into the fact that he mainly came at night when Tess was on shift. Although he still spent time with her smuggling various items, he also liked spending alone time with you.

Tonight was different though, it was the first time you gave into temptation. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss as you straddle Joel’s waist, tongues tangling as you both lose yourself in the moment. The tension between you has been building for far too long, and tonight you both have just enough adrenaline and whisky pumping through your bodies to give into your desire for one another. Your hands roam over his body, exploring every inch of skin you have access to. Your thighs are left bare as the long t-shirt you wear to bed rides up, Joel’s fingers dig into your soft flesh as he grinds up against you. The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room, mingling with the soft sound of the wind howling outside.

You pull back for a moment to catch your breath, locking eyes with each other.

You lean in to kiss him again, but Joel gently pushes you off his lap and sits you back onto the couch. At first, you take this as a rejection until he starts kissing down your neck. He slowly gets onto the ground and kneels between your legs, his eyes fixed on yours, as he slowly pulls down your pants. You gasp as his hot breath teases your sensitive flesh, and then puts his mouth on your cunt. His tongue circles your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You arch your back, unable to contain the moans escaping your lips.

Joel lightly slaps at your thigh and smirks. “You gotta be quiet; I can’t have you waking the neighbors now.”

The cocky smile on his face turns you on even more. You throw your head back, letting out a long, low moan as Joel's tongue teases your sensitive flesh. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours you. The world outside your rundown apartment fades away, replaced by the intense pleasure coursing through your body as Joel gives you the first of many orgasms that night.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Tags: forced femming, tit fucking, Aether continuing to be terrible and Dew continuing his Quintosis induced suffering from his power shall overshadow.

Summary: Aether benefits from his massive mistake.

Below or follow the link above for ao3.

A/n: I did NOT mean to make you guys wait a little over a year for this but in my defense. I'm bad at keeping WIPs in order. Sorry.

It's in the early hours when Aether does it. When they're both still out of their mind with need, when the lights in Dew’s eyes swirl up and enthrall Aether with a magic of their own. Dragging him into this accidental spell that's grown so much larger than intended. He's been pawing at Dew’s chest, memorizing the way each pinch, each caress makes him react. What makes him sigh with pleasure and vocalize pain. How much milk is inside, Aether wonders. How long would it take to empty him completely if Aether's mouth pulled at him until nothing was left? How fast would he refill. And other deep philosophical questions when the idea takes him.

And when he has this idea, he can't let it go. When will he ever have this opportunity again? No, they can't go to Omega until he's fulfilled this last, greedy desire. After this, after Aether gets this, they'll fix Dew.

“Would you,” he begins, groping at the mound beneath his palm and Dew sighs. Lets Aether bounce his tit, watch the soft flesh ripple with the motion. “Would you let me-”

He can't say it. Shyness forces his mouth shut and makes him bury his face in the pillow. Dew hums lazily, sated from being forced down on Aether's cock until he shuddered out his orgasm and Aether had pumped one more load into his body. It feels like ages ago, the way Aether's cock is aching and tenting the sheet now. Dew of course, notices and grabs at it with casual ownership. He could lead Aether around the Ministry by that thing and they both know it.

“Tell me…” Dew slurs as he wraps his calloused fingers around the base. The rough bumps are so much more pronounced after a tour and Aether shudders at the way they drag across the silky skin of his shaft as Dew strokes him. Swipes a thumb over the tip as precum burbles up in response. “Tell me what t’do.”

He rolls onto his side, the better to pepper Aether with lazy little kisses as his hand twists on the upstroke and Aether shudders, bucking his hips into it. Dew encourages him, throwing a leg over Aether's waist and scooting closer so Aether can tell Dew’s cock is filling out as well.

“Can I-” Aether hesitates. Dew trails a fingertip down, following a vein and Aether shivers, breaking out in a nervous sweat. “Is it alright if I…put it between them?”

“Put what?” Dew asks and Aether genuinely can't tell if he's teasing or not with the sleepy, vulnerable tone of his voice. The act isn't unfamiliar between them, but it's usually been Aether with Dew’s hot little stiffy pushing frantically between the mounds of his pectorals, splattering pre into the hollow of his throat.

“My…cock.” He clarifies breathing as Dew cups the weight of his balls in his palm, petting his thumb over the seam. “Between your, uh…On your chest.”

He's sure if he says such a vulgar word as tits that it'll break the spell. Remind Dewdrop of just how badly Aether fucked up, bring him to his senses. His tail curls in anticipation of rejection and his breath holds as Dew processes the words. His eyes blink shut as his hand on Aether stills then draws away completely as Dew tucks his limbs against himself, hiding the sight of his naked chest from Aether. He looks upset but Aether knows him too well to drop the subject. Dew knows the words to get him to truly stop and he isn't saying anything.

He wants to be convinced.

“It makes you feel good.” He presses, touching his forehead to Dew’s. Speaks right over Dew’s lips so every word is a soft kiss. “I like watching your face when you do it to me.”

Dew shivers, tucks his face against the pillow and stays silent. Aether takes the time to tenderly comb back strands of hair stuck to his sweat damp forehead. He lets a ribbon twine between his fingers, laying his lips on the shine of it. Dew is shivering now, fine trembles as Aether shifts closer, prods Dew with the firm jut of his cock as he slowly rolls his hips.

“Please-” He murmurs, insistent. He’s not going to go away, no matter how small Dew tries to make himself. “Please Dew, I-...need to see it.”

It’s too easy to sling himself over Dew, caging him in with solid arms and legs to keep him from wiggling away. He looks up at Aether with beautiful red-rimmed eyes and a hitch to his voice when he asks, defeated, “Haven’t you had enough?”

“That’s not possible.” Aether groans, giving in to the urge to touch himself, moaning deep in his throat at the jolt of sensation like he’s been dry for months instead of emptying his balls into Dew since the door shut tight behind them. “Not with you, never enough of you-”

Dew echoes his moan with a thready whimper, dragging Aether in for a filthy kiss; planting his feet to push his hips up so the soft bulge of his own cock rubs sweetly against the strain of Aether’s, slipping around the harder Aether tries to grind and he’s lightheaded in seconds at the feel of it, pre dribbling out to land on Dew’s shaft in a hot smear. Imagines what it would be like for Dew to feel it on his nipples.

He has to, now. Needs it more than he needs air. If Dew is too wary of allowing such things even in the privacy of their room, Aether thinks he might have a solution. Because he’s not backing down, not when the vision has him in such a strong chokehold. He sits up, rolling his neck and breathing out steadily. Dew watches him warily and Aether tries to give him a gentle smile but judging by the sudden shiver, he still looks like a predator on the verge of closing in. So he cups one hand to Dew’s cheek and focuses. He can feel the layers of his magic surrounding this form and he peels back just enough to allow his wings to appear just as they did before; dark and leathery, tipped with wicked looking claws. Large and imposing, giving him the impression of a gargoyle. They don’t see much use outside of stretching them on short flights.

But now…now they have a better purpose. He shuffles on his knees up Dew’s prone body, curling them forward until they hit the bedframe and he can hook his uppermost claw on the wood. The result is a dimly lit cocoon that envelopes Dew in Aether’s scent, hiding him from the even the empty space of the room beyond the bed. There’s nothing here but each other.

“I can feel your heart racing.” Aether says softly, reverently, and Dew’s lips part. He looks so small like this, so vulnerable like this. Aether spreads his fingers so his thumb brushes the corner of Dew’s mouth and it sends the same thrill down his spine to see Dew turn his head to suckle at it like he always does. “You’re going to let me do what I want because you don’t have a choice. Do you?”

“No.” Dew breathes around his finger and Aether feels sick with delight that he’s getting his way. His cock, a heavy weight on Dew’s skinny chest, gives a strong flex and blurts out a hefty spill of pre over his sternum. He can barely contain himself, shifting to settle more comfortably so Dew isn’t wheezing for breath, pawing possessively at his swollen breasts, tugging at the piercings while Dew gasps and winces and lets Aether play nonetheless.

“Perfect.” Aether breathes when he’s got a tit in each hand and can gently push them together to snuggle his thick cock between them. They’re not big enough to completely envelop him and it’s dry for now but it doesn’t matter. He’s got Dew right where he wants him to be and Aether wants to take his time with this. He’s never going to get to do this again after all. In for a penny…

“You’re so warm.” He tells Dew. “Warmer than the girls.” A pointed remark, intended to dig under his skin and make him squirm. It works. Dew inhales sharply and Aether pets one breast reassuringly. “But you like it, don’t you? You’ve always wanted attention here. To be pleasured…”

A soft stroke over a rosy nipple.

“To be hurt.”

A sharp pinch.

And Dew sobs as milk squirts out, spilling down Aether’s knuckles to drip onto the sheets beneath.

“Dew,” Aether groans, sounding like he’d been punched in the gut. He squeezes both simultaneously and is rewarded with streams of milk bubbling up. He adjusts his grip so the flow pools around his cock and while it’s not as slippery as lube, Aether wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Dew’s hands fly to his face as Aether’s hips start to work, gliding through the hot mess between his tits, keeping a firm grip as Dew’s body is rocked with the power of his thrusts. Dew makes small, sharp noises each time he’s forced upwards, like he’s actually getting fucked and it’s intoxicating. Aether slows, mindful of the distance between Dew’s head and the wood of the frame just a few inches away but as soon as he confirms Dew’s not in danger of concussing himself, he looks back down and feels all the blood leave his head in favor of going straight to his cock.

The sight of him, all shiny and going sticky with the vulgar mix of Dew’s milk and his own pre-cum is nearly too much. A vein is throbbing in time to his heartbeat and he swears it’s in sync with Dew’s.

“You’re beautiful,” He pants, moving his hips faster. His fingers move to frame his nipples between his middle and index and for a second he wishes he had his jewelry on so he could see the way the liquid coats the metal but Dew’s piercings will have to be a decent substitute. “Oh Dew, you’re so good- so good for me, you feel so good-”

He’s sweating, sure his face is as red as Dew’s must be under his hands and suddenly he needs to see everything. Every little bit of shame that’s playing out in Dew’s expression and he reluctantly releases his chest to grip Dew’s thin wrists instead, easily pulling them away and exposing the little ghoul’s defeated expression in its full glory. He’s deeply flustered with a haze in his eyes that Aether doesn’t even feel guilty about. He’s too close to cumming and he knows exactly how to make it up to Dewdrop for letting Aether put him through this.

He puts Dew’s hands right over his own tits, makes him hold them into position so Aether can thumb his mouth open, resting the pad of a finger on the point of a canine.

“Look at me.” He says softly and Dew does. They’re both so fucked up. “Stick your tongue out, yeah, just like that. Satanas Dew, you look like such a slut right now.”

He’s uncaring in how he finishes. Rough and fast, with the headboard rattling against the wall. Dew, cradling his breasts to keep Aether’s cock warm, spurting milk out every so often. Keeping his mouth open as Aether pants and groans deep in his chest, feeling his balls draw up and the pleasure tighten in his pelvis. The first and second shot are aimed square at Dew’s chest, landing randomly as Aether drags Dew’s head closer to finish cumming in his hot mouth, Dew mouthing at the tip as easily and naturally as he sucked Aether’s fingers.

“Don’t swallow.” Aether tells him, mouth dry. “I’m not done with you.”

Dew watches with trepidation as Aether repositions himself, stretching out next to him on the bed and bringing him in for a kiss.

“Give it back,” he murmurs before their lips meet. “And I’ll make sure it gets where it belongs."

He cleans his own cum out of Dew’s mouth as they kiss, the salty taste spreading over his tongue. He pulls away too soon, for the both of them judging by Dew’s quiet moan of loss.

“Easy,” he says like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “I’ve got you.”

He moves down. Down past the milk drying on Dew’s soft skin, past the dip of his flat stomach and the tempting trail of hair that leads to his soft, pink cock. He kisses it chastely, careful not to spill his mouthful as he gets his arms around Dew’s slight thighs and hefts them over his shoulders. Tugs him up high as Aether sits on his haunches, spreading Dew’s cheeks to bare his hole. He kisses Dew there, too, and relishes the terrified noise it gets him.

One hand closes over Dew’s little cock, rubbing it in a motion meant to soothe as Aether parts his lips and uses his tongue as a guide to let his cum go exactly where he wanted it to be.

[kirby0strombolli]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p1)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. Word count: Just under 1.3k !! Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :) A/n: Been wanting to write for Ben for a while! There are barely any Ben of the week fics!!

As she stumbled out of the bar, her laughter flickered like a neon sign.

Her flushed cheeks and lopsided smile lit up when her eyes met mine, as if she’d found what she’d been searching for.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” I sighed, stepping closer and offering her my arm.

“No, I can’t drive!” she protested, throwing her hands up, only to lose her balance and fall right into my open arms.

I looked down at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Then, with an unimpressed raise of my eyebrow, I said, “I wasn’t asking you to.”

She squinted at me with mock seriousness, her head tilting slightly. “I’m not really drunk. I never get that… fucked up!” Her words tumbled over each other, betraying her claim.

“Uh-huh." I shrugged off my coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it drawing a soft hum from her.

“I’m serious! I’m so sober!” she giggled, leaning into me with all the grace of a baby deer. Her head rested on my shoulder for a moment, and I felt her breath hitch before she exhaled softly, content.

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, her defenses melting in the cool night air.

♪ I love to see you shine in the night

Like the diamond you are ♪

I subtly glanced down at her, trying to ignore the way her face glowed under the streetlight, soft and perfect, like it was carved just to make me lose my mind.

There she was, wrapped in my coat, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we walked. Her warmth seeped through the fabric, and I was doing everything I could to ignore the way it made me feel.

Out of nowhere, she stopped and turned toward me. Before I could say anything, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, unexpected hug.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly at my sides. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing?

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled but sincere.

♪ Just hold me in the dark ♪

Slowly, cautiously, I let my arms fold around her, holding her close. It felt right—too right—and that’s what made it so wrong. She wasn’t just anyone; she was his sister. My best friend’s sister.

The unspoken rule had always been clear: stay away from her. She was off-limits, untouchable, someone I wasn’t even supposed to think about like this. But as I held her now, her warmth seeping into me, all I could think was how impossible it was to let go.

♪ No one’s gotta know what we doHit me up when you’re bored ♪

What if we didn’t tell anyone?

What if we didn’t have to?

The thought hit me like a whisper in the back of my mind, quiet but insistent. Memories stirred—ones I’d tried to forget but couldn’t.

The way she’d leaned in close during movie nights, her laughter brushing against my ear, making my pulse race. The late-night talks when everyone else was asleep, her voice soft, her eyes holding something unspoken.

And that time she’d reached out to fix my hair, her fingers grazing my forehead, lingering just a second too long.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. She was drunk. But with her in my arms now, it felt like the only thing I’d ever wanted.

Her breath was slow, steady, like she was just as caught in the moment as I was. Then, she pulled away slightly, her eyes wide and innocent, like she had no idea how much she was driving me crazy. 

Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, her face glowing softly in the streetlight. She was so damn pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart pound in my chest and my hands feel shaky.

Her eyes drifted from mine, down to my lips, and I felt the pull of temptation shoot through me. God, I could kiss her right now.

"Ben?" she whispered, her voice soft and almost fragile, as if she knew what was on my mind.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to see the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment felt like it was stretching on forever, and I could already feel myself leaning in, my breath hitching. But before I could make the move, a voice broke through the thick air between us.

“Need a ride back, Ben?”

I flinched, my heart pounding even harder. Curtis. My best friend. My fucking roommate.

Her brother.

He stood there, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked between us, suspicion clear in his eyes. Shit.

That look should have been enough to stop me, to remind me why I couldn’t do this—why he would kill me if he ever found out. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

I quickly looked back at her, just as she pulled away, her expression unreadable but soft. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes—What now?

Curtis broke the tension with a laugh. “What, you two gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna get in?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Saying yes would be awkward—he’d definitely notice. But if I said no, I’d be stuck walking back in the freezing cold, alone. I glanced at her one last time, guilt flooding my chest.

She smiled softly, like she understood. It was too dangerous. But damn, I wanted to give in.

I let go of her, the coldness settling in as I turned to Curtis. “Nah, I’m good,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I need to be somewhere.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. I turned back to her, giving her a tight smile. “Bye,” I said too quietly, watching her slide into the car. My stomach twisted.

As the car pulled away, I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed, the cold air stinging my skin. My mind was racing. What just happened?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she felt in my arms, the way she looked at me. Her smile made me feel like I could do anything, even though I knew it was wrong.

Then it started to rain. Hard. Of course, it did. The universe had perfect timing when it came to ruining my mood.

I kicked at the ground, irritated, my feet splashing through puddles as I walked. I couldn’t stop replaying the look she gave me. I should’ve kissed her.

I wanted to kiss her. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel this pull towards her, no matter how wrong it felt.

I pulled out a blunt from my jacket, lighting it up without even thinking. Maybe it was a stupid move, but I didn’t care. I needed something to numb the frustration, the confusion. 

The smoke filled my lungs, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. The rain poured harder, but I didn’t care. I kept walking, letting the buzz take over, the cold now just a distant thing.

taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

(lmk if you wanna be added!)

sneaky part 2 coming up...

[captainunderpantsmutual]

Fixed some stuff

Evil George and George's Story

"George's eyes widen in terror as a chilling laugh echoes through the room. A spectral figure, a twisted reflection of himself, hovers over him. 'George,' the spectral figure hisses, its voice a cold whisper, 'how could you?'"

"George's heart pounds in his chest as he tries to sit up, but his body feels heavy as if rooted to the mattress. 'What do you want from me?' he gasps, his voice barely a whisper. 'Why are you in my bed?'"

"The spectral figure's laugh, a hollow, mirthless sound, fills the room. 'You know nobody can see me,' it taunts. 'You know that nobody can hear me, George. You're the only one.'"

"Sweat beads on George's forehead as he struggles to break free. His body feels paralyzed, his mind racing with fear. 'Please stop this,' he pleads, his voice trembling. 'Not tonight.'"

"The spectral figure leans closer, its icy touch brushing against George's cheek. 'Does it hurt?' it asks, its voice dripping with malice. 'Yes, it hurts!' George cries out, his voice filled with pain and terror. He tries to push the figure away, but his limbs are useless."

"Desperate, George screams, 'Look, just stop touching my face!' His voice echoes through the empty room, a desperate plea for help that no one can hear. 'You know I'm you, right...' He moves away."

"George is shocked to see evil George. 'Evil George! I thought we talked about this,' he says, finally able to move. He moves back against the cold wall, which is black because the lights are off."

"Evil George comes closer. 'You can say you thought you killed off my idea, right...' He smiles evilly. 'George, have you thought why you've been sick lately?' He laughs."

"George looks down at the bed sheet, shaking, and doesn't say anything."

"It was me, George," he said as he tied a rope around George.

"You can't escape. “You'll never leave this world."

George woke up, thinking about it all day. The next day, he brushed his teeth and got ready for school. He probably thought it was just a dream, but there's no way it could be possible. It's probably just a daydream or whatever.

At school

"Hey buddy, are you alright? You look tired. Did you not get any sleep?" Harold asked.

"I'm okay, Harold, just homework," George replied, but he was lying.

Harold sensed that something was off, but he didn't think it was a big deal.

"Well, my mother is getting me a therapist. She thinks I'm a crazy dude," George confessed.

“What do you mean?” Harold questioned

“Look, Harold, I can't explain. It is not something I can explain, how or what I'm seeing.”

“George, what are you seeing? I noticed you stop at the window,” he shook George.

George was staring at an evil version of himself burning a paper that was a drawing of him.

“Do you see that, Harold?”

“No, dude, there's nobody outside.”

No, I just saw myself," George stepped back. "Get away from me!" He felt his evil self getting closer.

Most of his classmates stopped in the hallway, watching him.

Harold went to George. "George, are you okay? Nobody is there," he said as he went to cover him. "Guys, stop recording him. This is not right. He's going through something. It's just wrong!"

George got called to the office.

Mr. Krupp looks at George.

Harold, worried, said, "Look, it wasn't a prank. He's acting weird, Krupp."

Krupp sighs. "George, look, if you're having this episode, you might have to move schools or be homeschooled."

George is zoning out and not talking at all.

Harold, shocked, asked, “Episode! What is he going through?”

Krupp guessed it was a mental disorder, but he was wrong. Harold didn't know Krupp was wrong, but George snaps out.

“Stop saying I'm crazy. He's real. He's hurting me!” George says

In the lab

Melvin laughing to himself in his lab

“There's no way George is losing his mind, Harold”

It could have been his life, or could it? Melvin said to Harold

End of Part 1.

Evil George and George story

"George's eyes widen in terror as a chilling laugh echoes through the room. A spectral figure, a twisted reflection of himself, hovers over him. 'George,' the spectral figure hisses, its voice a cold whisper, 'how could you?'"

"George's heart pounds in his chest as he tries to sit up, but his body feels heavy, as if rooted to the mattress. 'What do you want from me?' he gasps, his voice barely a whisper. 'Why are you in my bed?'"

"The spectral figure's laugh, a hollow, mirthless sound, fills the room. 'You know nobody can see me,' it taunts. 'You know that nobody can hear me, George. You're the only one.'"

"Sweat beads on George's forehead as he struggles to break free. His body feels paralyzed, his mind racing with fear. 'Please stop this,' he pleads, his voice trembling. 'Not tonight.'"

"The spectral figure leans closer, its icy touch brushing against George's cheek. 'Does it hurt?' it asks, its voice dripping with malice. 'Yes, it hurts!' George cries out, his voice filled with pain and terror. He tries to push the figure away, but his limbs are useless."

"Desperate, George screams, 'Look, just stop touching my face!' His voice echoes through the empty room, a desperate plea for help that no one can hear. 'You know I'm you, right...' He moves away."

"George is shocked to see evil George. 'Evil George! I thought we talked about this,' he says, finally able to move. He moves back against the cold wall, which is black because the lights are off."

"Evil George comes closer. 'You can say you thought you killed off my idea, right...' He smiles evilly. 'George, have you thought why you've been sick lately?' He laughs."

"George looks down at the bed sheet, shaking, and doesn't say anything."

"It was me, George," he said as he tied a rope around George.

"You can't escape. “You'll never leave this world."

George woke up, thinking about it all day. The next day, he brushed his teeth and got ready for school. He probably thought it was just a dream, but there's no way it could be possible. It's probably just a daydream or whatever.

At school

"Hey buddy, are you alright? You look tired. Did you not get any sleep?" Harold asked.

"I'm okay, Harold, just homework," George replied, but he was lying.

Harold sensed that something was off, but he didn't think it was a big deal.

"Well, my mother is getting me a therapist. She thinks I'm a crazy dude," George confessed.

“What do you mean?” Harold questioned

“Look, Harold, I can't explain. It is not something I can explain, how or what I'm seeing.”

“George, what are you seeing? I noticed you stop at the window,” he shook George.

George was staring at an evil version of himself burning a paper that was a drawing of him.

“Do you see that, Harold?”

“No, dude, there's nobody outside.”

No, I just saw myself," George stepped back. "Get away from me!" He felt his evil self getting closer.

Most of his classmates stopped in the hallway, watching him.

Harold went to George. "George, are you okay? Nobody is there," he said as he went to cover him. "Guys, stop recording him. This is not right. He's going through something. It's just wrong!"

George got called to the office.

Mr. Krupp looks at George.

Harold, worried, said, "Look, it wasn't a prank. He's actually acting weird, Krupp."

Krupp sighs. "George, look, if you're having this episode, you might have to move schools or be homeschooled."

George is zoning out and not talking at all.

Harold, shocked, asked, “Episode! What is he going through?”

Krupp guessed it was a mental disorder, but he was wrong. Harold didn't know Krupp was wrong, but George snaps out.

“Stop saying I'm crazy. He's real. He's hurting me!” George says

In the lab

Melvin laughing to himself in his lab

“There no way George is losing his mind Harold”

It could have been his life, or could it? Melvin said to Harold

End of Part 1.

[tee-dohrnii]

This line is just so silly

---

Silly Gale doodle to make me feel better about my art :")

[sysig]

Well aren’t you so popular (Patreon)

[2129888]

i don't remember how i stumbled across this interview but i've never seen anyone mention it so i'm dropping it here <3 it's a little dated but still like super valuable and a decently in depth look at higuchi-sensei's previous works and how she works and thinks as a mangaka... personally i think it's the most i've ever learned from an interview of hers. super interesting stuff :0)

[princeson]

yoshioker face.

dimple friday #27

[lunarharp]

qifrey's birthday and silly stuff

[tevintersnakes]

Fighting for my life trying to figure out how tf to draw benny, this the best I got

[spiderwebbd]

Happy blorthday to @arcade-unknown you are SO cool/gen

Quality is so bad but. Have a little doodle :D

[anonymusbosch]

sometimes i feel like extending the kindness you can, when you can, is the only thing there is

[ftcatv]

can you hear me say your name, forever ? can you see me longing for you, forever ? - reference