#meant to post this sooner but. life. oops. here it is now tho!

[fearforthestorm]

sink low, rise high, bring back some blurry pictures to remember all your darker moments by!

got to see TMG live on the 14th, a couple weeks ago now - none of my pictures turned out (which, honestly, i don't know what I expected, trying to use a polaroid during a concert lmao), but I had the absolute time of my life anyway <3

(ID in alt text!)

[dweetwise]

day 16: bad day

prompt from: whumptober (tho i misread the title and can’t post to the challenge but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i still like it) pairing: felix x ace notes: felix’s day goes from bad to neutral to Nice (tm). also everyone except david is a shitty person in this lmao. warnings: implied emotional abuse, implied cheating, threat of violence word count: 2900

It was official; this was the worst day of Felix’s life.

It shouldn’t have been. He should have been happy, maybe a little shocked and nervous, but definitely excited. Not anxious, scared and downright spiteful like he felt right now.

His girlfriend was pregnant. They hadn’t been trying, but she was excited to tell him regardless, already thinking of baby names and giving Felix no room to voice any of his doubts. He knew this was what he claimed he’d always wanted, what he knew his parents wanted for him, to continue the family name since he was the last of his line.

He took another swig of the foul-tasting beer and wondered if she’d done it on purpose. She’d been not-so-subtly hinting at marriage for months, and Felix had always brushed her off. Maybe this was her taking matters into her own hands, forcing Felix to commit to her or drag down both his family name and professional image for having a child out of wedlock.

He didn’t want to marry her because she always seemed way more fond of his money than Felix himself, and he didn’t want to have kids because…

Well. He hated children.

He probably should have brought up that particular piece of information sooner, but he wasn’t sure it would have even made a difference. Not to his parents, not to his girlfriend, and certainly not to the ungodly amount of distant relatives and business associates who kept bugging him about settling down and starting a family.

Because, for some reason, dedicating the last twenty years of his life to doing what other people wanted him to do wasn’t enough.

He’d stupidly believed it would get better. That the twelve-hour work days and countless all-nighters on uninspiring projects would eventually pay off, when in reality all it had lead to were more boring projects. He’d thought buying his girlfriend expensive gifts and taking her on weekly dates followed by the obligatory weekly sex would make them fall in love, but instead she was pushing him into commitments he wasn’t ready for.

He downed the rest of the beer and tried to numb out the suffocating feeling of being trapped. He was doomed to keep living his shitty life exactly the way others dictated, and there was nothing he could do to change his fate.

Maybe that’s why he’d chosen this bar. It wasn’t the usual high-end, after-hour cocktail bar next to his office where everyone would recognize him. It was a shitty sports bar owned and frequented by foreigners, where nobody would approach him to congratulate him on the “good news” after his girlfriend e-mailed his entire contacts list in her excitement.

He debated getting another beer, maybe finally being able to pick one that didn’t taste like piss. God, how sad was his life that the biggest act of rebellion he could come up with was getting drunk on cheap beer in a bad part of town?

Felix clutched the glass tighter in his hand, frustrated at his life but also at himself, how he was unable to do anything but play right into everyone else’s plans. Fuck, he needed to do something different, something he’d never even considered would be in the realm of possibilities for him. But what?

He looked around the bar, seeing a group of backpackers animatedly chatting in what sounded like Spanish. He could go travelling, but that wouldn’t accomplish much except buy him a little bit of time. Not to mention his girlfriend would guilt him until he let her come along.

He could always get blackout drunk and puke his guts out in the bathroom. Maybe get into a bar fight. Try to get his hands on some drugs. Hire a prostitute.

Unfortunately none of those things seemed even remotely more thrilling than the bland beer he’d been drinking the entire night.

Felix sighed and buried his face into his hands. For forty years, he’d kept telling himself he wasn’t like everyone else, that he’d do something meaningful in his life, that he was a risk taker and not a conformer.

And he still would; he just didn’t know what. If he only got a sign—

The door to the bar slammed open and Felix snapped his head up from the noise, his table rattling from the impact of the door hitting the wall.

There was a man, his grey hair and cheap suit both wet from the autumn rain, clutching something under his arm while panting like he’d just run a half marathon. He hurried to close the door, and Felix didn’t mean to stare, but it was the most exciting thing to happen all night.

The man caught Felix’s eye and gave a quick grin.

“You saw nothing,” he offered before running up to the bar.

“Don’t tell me ya fuckin’—” the bartender started, clear annoyance on his features.

“Oops, gotta run, I was never here!” the man offered good-naturedly before hopping over the bar and disappearing into the back.

“Ace for fuck’s sake!” the bartender cursed, yelling at the doorway to what had to be a back room or kitchen. Still, he made no move to follow him, instead sighing in agitation and aggressively started cleaning a couple of pint glasses.

Felix realized three things at once; one, the new customer screamed trouble. Two, he clearly knew the bartender. And three, Felix was intrigued.

He made his way to the bar with his empty glass, placing a ten euro bill on the worn wood that earned him a fresh glass of beer in only a couple of seconds. He appreciated that the bartender hadn’t tried to make small talk during the entire evening, and lamented the fact that he had to break the silence.

“Who is your friend?” Felix asked, trying to ignore the self-consciousness that always surfaced when he had to subject the world to his extremely obvious German accent.

“'Friend' is a strong word,” the bartender huffed in annoyance, though it seemed to be directed at the person they were talking about and not Felix. “'A pest who keeps comin' back like a boomerang no matter how many times I kick 'im out' sounds more fitting.”

Felix hummed in acknowledgement and sipped at his beer, deciding to sit down at the bar instead of returning to his table.

“He seems interesting,” Felix mused, trying to fish more information about the man.

Instead of humoring him, the bartender stopped cleaning the glasses and gave him an incredulous stare.

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” he deadpanned. “The hell's a guy like you see in a rat like 'im?”

“That wasn't what I meant,” Felix insisted, staring at his glass in embarrassment. He was just curious, he wasn't… interested, at least not that way. God, why could he never communicate properly? This is why he never tried anything new.

He heard the bartender sigh long and loud, like this wasn't the first time he'd had to put up with a similar situation.

“Look mate, whatever yer thinkin', don't,” he offered, like that was supposed to help Felix at all. “Guy's way more trouble than 'es worth, an' he sure as hell ain't here to make friends.”

Felix didn't have time to reply, not that he even knew what he would have said, before the door slammed open once again and heavy footsteps stomped into the bar.

“Oi!” the bartender shouted in annoyance. “Don't go draggin' mud into my bar!"

“Where is he?” one of the new patrons demanded in German, and his voice was threatening enough to make Felix glance over his shoulder at the new arrivals.

He saw a group of four men that looked like bad news, their cheap clothing and poorly made tattoos making Felix think of some lowly local gang.

“Read the sign, mate,” the bartender scoffed, pointing at a metal plaque in the style of a road sign that said ‘Service in English only’.

“What a fucking moron,” one of the thugs commented, not even attempting to switch languages.

“We know he's here!” the man at the front barked out and proceeded to slam a fist against the bar.

“I got no bloody clue what yer talkin' about!” the bartender claimed. “But if yer gonna come to my bar an' start a fight, so help me—”

"Let's just beat him up!” one of the men was getting impatient.

“For the last time, where is he!?” one of the thugs surged forward and grabbed the bartender by his collar.

“You've got the fuckin' wrong place, I dun know shit about what ya even want!” the bartender, to his credit, didn't even bat an eye. Then again, it looked like he could easily hold his own in a fight.

Felix heard a gasp and noticed one of the Spanish kids cower closer to the corner they were sitting in, observing the scene with fear in her eyes.

The tension in the air seemed like it was about to snap, and instead of making Felix want to bolt into the safety of his mansion, it made his adrenaline start pumping.

This was what he needed. A thrill.

“You heard the man,” Felix raised his voice, finally turning to address the group. “You're in the wrong place.”

“Shut the fuck up, this doesn't involve you!” one of them eloquently responded.

“It started involving me when you barged in and ruined my night,” Felix explained calmly despite feeling his palms start sweating from nervousness, years of faking an unphased persona finally coming to use.

“Okay, the fuck's your problem!?” the guy who seemed to be the leader demanded, finally letting go of the bartender in favor of looming over Felix threateningly.

“I said,” he emphasized, slowly lifting his pint glass to take a sip of his drink and flash his ring with the family insignia. “You've got the wrong place.”

There was a moment of silence when all Felix heard was his own heart beating in his ears, keeping his expression neutral and looking at the thugs like they were nothing more than a fleck of dirt on his expensive suit. Hopefully, they'd recognize the symbol, even if the Richters hadn’t been involved in the local underworld for years, not after the disappearance of his parents.

“The fuck is he on about?” one of the men, who looked to be the youngest, demanded. “Let's just beat them both up and—”

“Shut up,” the leader barked, glancing at Felix fleetingly. “We seem to have gotten lost on the way.”

Felix couldn’t help the smug smile.

“Happens to the best of us,” he said.

The group slowly started slinking out of the bar without further complaints, with Felix's eyes following them the entire time as if daring them to protest.

“Sorry for bother,” one of them even offered to the bartender in questionable English before the door closed after them.

“I'll be damned,” the bartender huffed and crossed his arms, giving Felix a look that could generously be described as somewhat impressed. Felix offered a shaky smile in return before he focused all his attention on staring at the surface of the bar and trying not to tremble from fear as the adrenaline left his body. He hoped it wasn’t obvious he was taking unnecessarily deep breaths and that cold sweat was running down his back under the suit.

That had been the most idiotic thing he had ever done. It was stupid, it was dangerous, and unnecessary and—

And he'd never felt such a rush of absolute victory before.

There was a thud as a beer was placed in front of him, and he glanced up to see the bartender smirking at him.

“It's on the house,” he said in a heavily accented but otherwise fluent German.

Well. It seemed this night was just full of surprises.

Soon after, Felix found himself sitting in a corner booth nursing his two beers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt good, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol buzzing in his system.

He’d proved to himself that he had balls. He was one wrong move away from ending up in a bar fight, and even that thought didn't make him cower in fear like it would have before. Despite never being in a fight before, his confidence was soaring, and he liked to imagine him and the bartender could have easily taken the four thugs.

And then his night only got better as a handsome stranger slid down into the opposite side of the booth.

“So, King told me you saved my ass just now,” the man said with a charming smile, casually leaning closer and propping his chin up on his elbow like they were old friends catching up.

It took Felix longer than he'd like to recognize the man as the one that caught his attention earlier. Without the baseball cap, sunglasses and cheap suit jacket, he cleaned up rather well, dressed in a simple light pink button-up and jeans. Slightly messy, silver hair was a stark contrast to the mischievous brown eyes and almost youthful, cocky smirk on his face.

Felix suddenly realized why the bartender thought he was interested in more than just the man's colorful personality.

“I suppose that's true,” Felix said after a way longer silence than was socially acceptable, but his companion was courteous not to mention anything.

“Well, whether you meant to or not, you have my thanks!” the man grinned good-naturedly. “I would have bought you a beer, but I see David's already got you covered,” he added, gesturing to the two pints where Felix was still working through his first.

“Yes, it's…” Felix started, debating whether he should be honest about his distaste for the drink or not. Fuck it, drunk and brave had worked earlier. “A shame it doesn't make it taste any better.”

The man barked out a laugh and Felix smiled at the success of his joke.

“I know, right?” his companion snickered. “I keep telling him to mix it up, maybe get some nice wines too, but he insists on importing that awful stuff the Brits call beer.”

Felix smiled politely, not knowing what to add to the statement. Regardless of what the bartender—David?—had claimed before, the two definitely seemed to be friends.

“I'm sorry, where are my manners!” the man suddenly seemed to realize, offering his hand over the table. “I'm Ace.”

“Felix,” Felix replied, returning the handshake firmly, like his father and numerous career coaches had taught him.

“So, Felix,” Ace continued, retracting his hand but leaning over the table even further. “What brings you here? I think I'd remember seeing someone like you before.”

Was that flirting? It had been so long since anyone had showed any interest in Felix, he couldn’t even recognize what was just casual conversation, too used to business world small talk about the stock market and someone's secretary's family.

“I needed a change,” Felix said, before realizing he probably shouldn't be revealing too much. “—of scenery,” he hastily added.

Ace regarded him silently for a few heartbeats and Felix gulped down some beer to try not to fret under the scrutinizing gaze.

“Scenery, huh?" Ace hummed. "Seen anything you like so far?”

Okay, that had to be flirting. Right? Felix stared at Ace's face, but the other wasn’t giving anything away. And Felix thought he was good a keeping a straight face.

“Maybe,” he answered simply, keeping eye contact much longer than appropriate on purpose.

Ace didn't look away and Felix wondered if he was the only one who noticed the tension in the air.

He always sucked at flirting, even in his native tongue, and now he had to do it in broken English. He thought he'd been pretty obvious, but he still wasn’t sure if Ace was just being friendly. Maybe he wasn’t even into men.

Well, to be fair Felix didn't think he was either, university time experimentation aside. There was something about this particular night, like he was desperate to prove to himself that he was still capable of making decisions for himself.

He’d always thought he wouldn't cheat, but he also knew that if Ace offered, he wasn’t going to say no. If this was the only thing in his life he still had control over, he was going to make the most of it, and he no longer cared if that made him a bad person.

“You know, I've stayed in a bunch of different hotels in the area while I've been here,” Ace mentioned out of the blue, and Felix furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “There's a pretty good one just down the street.”

Felix swallowed, at last realizing what the other was getting at.

“Really?” he asked, trying to mask his suddenly surfacing nerves.

“Yup. Kinda cozy, very… discreet,” Ace chirped casually, like he was talking about the weather and not propositioning a stranger.

Felix cleared his throat and shoved a hand in his pocket, managing to fish out a crumpled twenty euro bill despite his sweaty palms. He slapped the money on the table, hoping the tip would convey his gratitude to David for setting him up for the best night of his life.

Finally, he stood up from the booth and offered Ace a nervous smile that probably made it glaringly obvious just how eager he was.

“Lead the way."

[muggycuphead]

TH!FPA_VB – Lord of Lies and Deceiving

Yo, been a while since I posted something on this account, but here we are, back at it again with a casual VB drawing like in good ol’ 2020

…Though, this time things got built on a different road of events as you can see, not to mention this is a spoiler to what’s to come for VB (but tbh I stopped caring at this point so yea)

First and for most however, there are quite a few questions surrounding this fic’s development I have to answer for our sake (mostly mine since I feel like mold spaghetti for not keeping up on things oml-)

Yes, I once said VB was on the way of getting completed and all that, I know

Problem is, the changes I want to do to the ‘lore’ (if you want to call it that way idk) are also retroactive to the events in the present timeline (aka past events that are mentioned but not entirely shown because ugh-), some characters that have some relevancy on the story but only come up at the very end chapters on VB itself, etc. etc. which are things that I personally find bothersome as its writer and the reason why I’d rather not make the ‘sequel-prequel’ of it where things get explained and all that

Instead, I’ll fuse both VB and TAF (the sequel-prequel’s name acronym standing for ‘The ‘ANOMALY’ files’ fyi) so it can focus on one party alone and I don’t waste any more time than what I already have done so (haha funny cuz me late to party amiriteeeimsorry-)

…And about the format for it, I’ve decided I’ll ‘upgrade’ it to a comic instead since y’know, I do art and it’ll also make my writing simpler so yea

Still tho, I’m kinda paranoic on if I should get going with the prologue by the time I finish its script or not since I don’t wanna make the plot a mess or leave things (important* things) unfolded by accident, but we’ll see how it goes (and hopefully I’ll make it out alive-)

Also, keep in mind that by the moment I’m writing this, I’m stuck in the Friday Night Fuc- I mean Funkin’ fandom, and y’all know what happens when the fandom switching happens…

My concept-creation-obssessive-self starts grinding gears like cuckoo -doesn’t mean I’ll abandon everyone else tho, it’s just that my focus splits on multiple parts and all that balloney

So, now that I did my little defense statement up there, let’s get rolling to the mainpoint down here

First, who’s this spider guy?

Well, he’s a ‘side’ antagonist, more specifically the person DPM is after (but doesn’t realize he is until very later)

His name is Q-Ross Sid, a ‘camel spider’ that lives in the Spider Kingdom as the royal executioner and prison head-guard/-caretaker

He’s what I’d consider to be an ‘anomaly’, since he’s a genetic fusion of graphite (20%), chalk (10%) and correcting fluid (70%), with the graphite being his ‘stabilizer’ component (osseous structure and skin/muscular tissue mostly) and the chalk his ‘cooler’ component (mostly on his defense and assimilation mechanism), not to mention he can only consume either correcting fluid matter derivatives…and/or ink matter derivatives, including living beings (mostly as an energy source and which his body somehow can partially convert into graphite)

…And by that fact alone you can tell that yes, he killed Isea -also known as Dizzy/Izzy Pants Girl (YESss I fINALLY GAVE HER A NICK ASDFGH-) in VB mostly due to her ‘special ability’ and stuff- by Queen Aris’ command. And yes, he can shapeshift, which explains why he got DPM to blame FPM for what happened, this that (but I think you might have figure it out already by the drawing alone so yea-)

However, although at first I thought his ability would be limited to mimick FPM’s appearance only, I now decided to amplify it a little, and instead he can shapeshift into any sketch/graphite-alike/related being, with FPM being his ‘link’ to them most of the time (stalkey tatics are not okey dokey my man but you do you I guess)

Though he can only shapeshift into stickfigs since he doesn’t have that much of ‘color filling’ for a human drawing itself (yeah ik they’re humanized in the story but things will make sense sooner or later I promise, for now just bear with me as we go on on this plz), and he cannot shapeshift into ink/liquid-alike/related beings because they’re not compatible and it’ll only lead him to corrupt his physical form –not meaning he can’t recover from it tho

But he can’t replicate them entirely, as his eyes and the ring are the two main red flags to spot him (but with some contact lenses and a little pocket, it can be fixed y’know-)

As for his robotic arm, it was after a fight that I’ll rather not explain due to not being that relevant; and even thought doctors refused to give him a prosthesis at first since he could simply let it rebuild naturally (yes he can regen too, but in a slower phase bc reasons), he got it anyways due to the fact limbs regen take way longer than physic injuries and/or internal damage (some even assumed that they probably wouldn’t actually regen anyway), which can be a bother on his job most of the time…and maybe out of spite too –he wanna look tough, yo-

Fun fact, during the hype I got from making this bad boi, I ended up attaching him to grandson’s song called ‘Blood/Water’ due to the lyrics kinda resembling his defamatory actions towards FPM (and also his wild and sometimes desperate hunger towards ink beings, yikes)

Second, what’s VB’s main plotline now and why did I expand it?

To resume it in the ‘signature phrase’ I made for the new version (which was also inspired on MARETU’s ‘Magical Doctor’ song –mandoilovethisvocaloidsongcomposerasdfgh)

**THIS WASN’T MEANT TO HAPPEN**

Venomous Bittersweet (which I’ll rename in the future due to the fusion with TAF) started off with a simple plot -FPM going on a mission for himself to get cured from a spider bite he got all of a sudden, but failing in the process (bc plot convenience idk) and CPG is the one who goes to his rescue instead while showing off the things she learned from him, this that, wholesome ending blah blah blah- you know the drill if you read it to end.

But by the moment I began making those little ‘inside stories’ –specially DPM’s backstory explaining why he became so reckless and outgoing- I started to extent myself on how things worked on this AU, even how drawings come to life (ik it’s weird but that’s how I though it to be so ff-), and by such I felt the urge to give almost everything a background story, such as Aris’ reason to kidnap and take control over FPM’s body and mind (and maybe his soul too oops-), the Spider Kingdom’s origin and even the portals and ‘reality deterioration’ in SFPA, passing by DPM’s origins and stuff.

And even if I felt like hitting walls and taking things a little too in-depth most times, I think it did bring some good things for the new plotline I’m going for now

So, in the new story, all the weird, whacky (and disturbing) things that happen after SFPA and during OG VB plotline came by what I’d express as some sort of ‘time-space anomaly’ that made everything slightly unstable on the ‘other side’ of the studio (I won’t explain too much my brain is about to boil rn so take that as you will for now tysm), having a passive (but not unnoticeable) effect on the sketchbooks.

I can’t give much context why, how or where did the anomaly came to be exactly (you can make theories if you like, I’d love to read them 4real <3), but it’s main purpose is to take control over all existing worlds just to corrupt them to its will, to the point there is basically nothing left but despair and desolation to which all entities will be forced to endure and all that edgy jazz.

…And by that, the ‘anomaly’ will create incompatible matter amalgams –ink and graphite being the most coming-to-mind example in the story so far- in order to conquer all the sketchbooks, but as a consequence of this ‘anomaly’s’ arise, new worlds came to be fully developed (in other words, they finally exist as a whole), and with that, new ‘heroes’ are brought into the situation, each representing a type of artistic material alone –watercolor, oil paint, etc-, heroes with which FPM will encounter and interact with, as he’ll also help them in how to use their abilities to fight the baddies and stuff.

And because we need conflict to make things interesting, Q-Ross and DPM indirectly (but kinda) ‘team up’ to fabricate fake evidence and such in order to mess with FPM’s reputation towards the heroes by incriminating him and/or even mislead his actions (confusing wrong by right and vice versa, etc.) (because ink man is salty and corrector ass is a dick by nature –ofc), and even ocassionally with Q-Ross starting the job, just to get DPM to finish it; and sometimes they get the aforesaid characters to hold grudges –if it comes to succeed, or instead making them get more on his side by the same feeling of doubt –if they mess up on something, no matter the size.

As about his sickness, well, it also got a little twist.

We know that new worlds and material compositions come with new squiggle types, and even if ‘dust-related’ types don’t affect him for too long –chalk being the closest example I can bring up-, liquid or clayish matters, such as oil and crayon squiggles respectively, are toxic towards him, so in the way the more he interacts with incompatible squiggles, the more harmed his health condition gets, to the point it grips into the weakest part of his body –his core (I’ll later explain this just…let me get this out first plz), which limits him on doing most things he’s used to do normally.

…And well, the spider bite (which is also an abnormal matter amalgam times two, though I’ll keep it secret for now) was the last nail in the coffin on fucking him up entirely to a new level of corruption (damn is that a stretch I’m seeing-)

Long story short, this was also because I wanted ArPM to have a backstory that’s more than just ‘I’m evil nao bc me get poisond and mindcontrold by spoders out of spite hahahaha-’

Third (and lastly), who’s Ahetzo exactly and what’s his main purpose on the story?

This is a short one

In case you didn’t see my tweet on my Twitter account (here a linkie), this is a side character I made that’s supposed to be some kind of ‘spirit’ or something alike who’s the one in charge of the studio while ya dev boi is gone

In other words, he’s basically like Brad’s subconscious self (IK YIKES- YOU CAN HIT ME WITH THE CHAIR NOW I WON’T MIND-)

…and even though he tried to keep the anomaly thing contained as long as he could while figuring out how to disarm it or at least neutralize it (yes it was there way before, like during fpaw3 events or before so because AU logic lol), the more he tried to condense it, the more it multiplied itself until, well, y’know, shit blew up and everything just sdfghjk’d

And yes, he was the one who released the new worlds to keep the crazy stuff at range, this that

Oml my brain-

And before I finish here, I’d like to make a little ‘self-critic’ regarding my artwork here…and I gotta say, I’m really proud of it on most parts

As I began to retake on digital art lately –mostly due to my slight entering onto the FNF/partially NG communities and other things, I’ve been testing out new techniques and stuffs on GIMP 2 with the ‘routes’ tool and all that (that’s also why it looks almost symmetrical, but don’t fool urself it did took its time-), I even corrected some of the lines to make them sharp and fancy (haha funi joek im so quirkee-)

In here, I wanted to try mixing both solid and blurry shadows as well as replicating a ‘crystalish’ effect –as seen on Q-Ross’ eyes- and some line effects with the ink tool such as the liquid dripping out of Q’s mouth (yes that correcting fluid saliva now stfu-) and the graphite/correctfluid webs coming out of his clawtips/fingertips

And though I haven’t made an official palette for him, I think the colors I picked here suit him well enough in my own idea of such

Overall, I had fun making this, and I love how it came out

Still though, any criticism, opinion and commentary is welcome, both about my art piece and my little showcase over here

That’s all I got for now, see you all later on

K bai-