#rn its looking like that might be the final nail in the coffin for my phd plans

[smute]

so im moving back home next month to save some money during my last semester of grad school, and as grateful as i am for even having that option, a not so small part of me is very scared that it may turn out to be... not quite as temporary as i am currently hoping it will be🙂

[apieceofconsciousness]

oh my fucking god im 18 in a week

god i was about to write some sappy shit and it just it me and its over im no longer a child ever ever again after this and im crying im fucking sobbing its 2:29 in the morning and i have school tmrw and my jaw is shaking because i cant stop sobbing. this is the end. the final nail in the coffin of childhood. i cant do this im not ready please take me back im so sorry i know i wasnt a good person but also maybe i was 15 for fucks sake im so sorry ive hurt so many people and i cant take it back i cant even do mothers day right for gods sake my mom has to deal with me so much im so so so sorry mom i love you so much and i cant even show it properly god i cant do this i can barely do mondays god im losing myself im losing myself so much. ive been a wreck on legs for a decade and im getting slower i cant do this anymore i cant do anything properly by myself anymore i am so fucking bad at this i had so so so much more i wanted to do by the time i hit this for some reason magic number 18 and god im such a fucking failure. im so so so sorry. why am i so wrong. jackie has to put up with me my friends just deal with me i can see it when they instantly tune out they dont care anymore because ive been too high around them too many times they instantly think i have nothing useful to say or they just dont care and i get it i fucking get it i beg and beg and plead for change but i just cant do it its too much to handle and its too much to do and i cant handle it because im fucking useless. everyone around me is going to these universities and i feel like im losing myself even after having a plan. i dont know what to do. i has supposed to do more things than ive done and im so lazy and useless and shes going to leave me once shes had enough of my bullshit and no matter how much i care i can never show it properly never take the actions to do it properly. why is everyone else always doing it better, why do they seem more put together. i cant do this anymore. what wall am i behind that im missing just how horrible am i at everything god im so fucking bad at this. it took a very long time to understand just how deep the hate for myself goes. im battling myself. im so so tired. i need help and im still never going to ask for it in the way i need, that would be too much out of someone. i cant do this anymore, my body is tired, my mind is tired, i want to wither away. all of my desperate reaches to be noticed, to be a mark on the world is overwhelmed by not wanting to be a burden onto the people around me. i can barely show the right love back to the people who love me, the people who care about me. if im going to be worth nothing, then i shouldnt be taking up this space and time and become nothing. I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO MAKE IT HERE. I TRIED TO END IT 5 TIMES BUT OUT OF PURE SPITE OF DEATH I REMAIN HERE. I LIVE. I LIVE!!! I LIVE AND I LOVE AND I BREATHE. I REMAIN HERE TO LOVE. PLEASE READ THIS. PLEASE REMEMBER ME. PLEASE ASK ME HOW IM DOING AND ASK AGAIN WHEN ITS OBVIOUSLY THE WRONG ANSWER. PLEASE ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM. IM SORRY I DONT KNOW HOW TO BE THE BEST PERSON OR FRIEND OR PARTNER OR SON BUT IM TRYING IM TRYING GODAMMIT WHAT IS THIS FOR IF NOT TO TRY AND TRY AND TRY. I REMEMBER BEING 12 AND THINKING I MIGHT NOT MAKE IT TO 18 BUT IM HERE I FUCKING MADE IT OH MY FUCKING GOD IT TOOK SO MUCH BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS AND IT MEANS FUCKING NOTHING BECAUSE THE TIME WOULDVE PASSED ANYWAYS BUT WE'RE HERE WE DID IT 15 YEAR OLD ME. DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN 18 WASNT EVEN A POSSIBILITY BESIDES IN PROMISES TO PEOPLE WE CANT EVEN TALK TO ANYMORE? IM FUCKING HERE AND IT SUCKS OH MY GOD IT SUCKS SO FUCKING BADLY BUT IM STILL HERE AFTER ALL OF IT. I CANT EVEN IMAGINE GOING THROUGH SHIT RN FOR 6 MONTHS BUT I LOOK BACK AND IVE BEEN SAYING THAT ABOUT SHIT FOR YEARS AND LOOK WE'VE BEEN STAYING MOVING FORWARD. ITS SO HARD TO CONTAIN IM SHAKING AND SOBBING MY EYES OUT BUT WE DID IT WE DID IT IM PROUD OF YOU I HATE YOU SO MUCH BUT WE MADE IT HERE. REMEMBER THAT EVERY SINGLE DAY. THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. BUT ITS HERE IN SPITE OF IT ALL

[ann-era]

Epsilon (pt1)

Title: Epsilon | mini series, non-linear. [ part 1 ] / [ part 2 ] / [ end ]

Pairing : Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader (R18) Warnings(?): Manipulation, Smut, soft dark!Steve Rogers, no-beta reader.

Steve wasn't having his mate's science experiments endanger her life. So he took matters into his own hands

*by proceeding to read, you are aware of the warnings. a/n: first time writing. will get darker. might do an enigma!reader x stephen strange next. muse bunnies rampant rn.

“Cupcake, This has to stop. I’ve been supportive in your little experiments but its getting out of hand. You’re messing with genetic sequencing isn’t what we agreed on.”

There was a sharp edge to Tony’s voice. This wasn’t a request.

“Yeessss but…” you dragged the syllable longer, “but see I got the science of it down to an exact T.”

“No. You told me, you told me, that you’d be working at a dampener. Something that could stop an alpha rampage, no side-effects. You’re not even doing that! Attacking-” He was at loss for words, you were precious to them, to him.

Losing you to the government terrorist organizations was not an option.

“…Attacking Alpha-rho or Omega-rho cells for that matter, is not what we do here, it could be weaponized, do you know that? You’re smart enough to know that!” He was lecturing you. Again.

“Maybe if I were an Alpha I could tell whoever that don’t like it to go fuck themselves!” You snapped.

There was a sigh. Tony knew you had a stubborn streak. He liked that rebellious nature. He liked the spitfire that you were.

Epsilon-Omega, as rare as they come by, you always came in the mornings, fresh lilies in your arms. He swears you had some flower fidelity to lilies.

Just being near you, calmed the headaches that he had, the despise that he held for the world, the disgust, all of the feelings cleared, like the mornings of Spring. It wasn’t like being with other Omegas. It was a constant need of your attention, your affection.

He took a quick glance at you, noticing the sudden heaviness in the air. You dabbed your eyes with your sleeves, your lip quivering, your hand fisting on top of your thigh, gaze lowered.

It’s hard to talk to you when you looked like a kicked puppy. The vanilla and cocoa, now carried a mild musk in the scent notes. It was your mate’s scent.

Who was right now halfway across the world in a meeting with a whole bunch of people that Tony doesn't bother remembering. Steve was on his way to convince a whole lot of people why his wife and mate's not a threat to national security. That you won’t wake up one day and decide that you won’t play by their rules anymore.

This tethering to multiple underground market buzz. There had already been riots breaking out at a leak of this research program, protest from Alphas and Omegas from all sides, pro and anti.

“Cupcake, all of us... started like this... to save or repair what we see as damaged in the world. We just don’t want you getting hurt because of this.”

“So, you’re saying… that because of my work… Steve , you and…. everyone else is getting hurt?”

There was a lot of wrong in that sentence and … all of a sudden, realization dawned that he knew the exact sentiments behind what you just said.

“No… No. Cupcake, look at me. Leaving… would only make things worse, you hear me? You need to stay here where we’ll protect you. People are going to exploit-”

“What if I worked alone then?”

There was a long silence…. He had hit the final nail in the proverbial coffin.

Your hands were tucked inside your coat pockets. Okay, you can do this.

“Y/n, where are you going?” He steps forward, blocking whatever opening you had to make it to the elevator. Unrelenting. He was livid and he wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact. You had difficulty breathing, whether it by sheer fear or the fact that he was making his aggression known through his scent. You felt powerless. You don't often feel powerless against an Alpha, being an Epsilon meant you could resist most of their commands. However, it was a different matter for your mate.

Steve wasn't an ordinary alpha, he's an Apex Alpha. Genetics that nature predominantly engineered to be a perfect pair for the Epsilon-Omega line.

You forced any signs of fear deep within he recesses of your bones. You had to calm him down. Fast. You had wrapped your arms around his middle. Leaned your head on his chest. “You’re late, I-I was lonely, I – I... just missed you…” Steve lifts your chin between his thumb and index. gaze, sure enough. Your teeth biting onto your lower lip. You’re lying.

It was so soft, so vulnerable, had it not been for his enhanced sense of hearing, he would have missed it. He buries his nose into your hair, the cloying scent of warm vanilla and cocoa, comfort of home. His home. His mate. His wife.

Your fingers played with the flap of his tie, distracting yourself.

“Then how ‘bout I help you with that hm?”

He was getting careless. The meeting dragged on longer than it had to, but he has to do it, in order to keep you safe.

Yet, here you were trying to leave.

You lied to him. He finds his resolve at trying to be a good and doting Alpha for you shattering taking along his restrain, his reason. The small cracks already forming as he thought that Stark's tower was already making you too liberal with your ideas. Perhaps the suburban side of the city will ease you out of them.

He yanked you hard, pressing you against him. His lips were on yours, rough, needy.

He took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit you. You whimpered, letting his tongue slip between your lips. He kissed you over and over again, sloppily making his way down your neck. He inhaled sharply before rasping out.

“Fuck I can’t wait anymore.” With practiced hands, he carelessly took off your clothes, you briefly heard the torn seam. Satisfied with your nakedness, he picked you up and carried you over to the bedroom.

Tossing you on the bed, a chaste kiss on your forehead before he stood up at the foot of the bed, removing his own clothes.

“Would you love me… if I wasn’t an Omega?”

His eyebrow quirked, where did this come from all of a sudden? He lifted your arms placing them around his shoulder as he made his way between your legs, grabbing the back of your thigh to rest them on his side.

“Hmm… Would you love me then? If I wasn’t an Alpha?” You seemed to take offense at that, sputtering a million things at once. He tried to suppress a smirk. You lightly ran your nails across his scalp, letting the soft brown curls run through your fingers.

His fingers dropped to the mound where your thighs and hips met. A soft sigh escaping your lips, he leaned down to kiss you again. His fingers rubbing against your wet slit, pushing two fingers into your needy cunt. Your cries getting louder.

The wet carnal noises that his mouth was making, moving further down your body. Your shoulders, no, no, no. You needed him now. Your arms around on his neck tightened…

“No, no, no, now, please… please.” You whined and moved your hips. He loved hearing you beg so prettily.

“So demanding.” he growled against your shoulder, fingers slipping out. With one quick thrust he buried himself completely in you. God, you needed this. You chewed on your bottom lip, missing the burn, the heat, his skin on yours. He drew his hips back, grunting as he fucks you.

He takes both your wrists in a brutal grip above your head, you were seeing stars with how hard you were being railed. A stray curl stuck on his forehead, skin glistening with sweat and you helplessly bucked against his thrusts.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” he panted, groaning as your walls clamped around him begging him to just fuck you into oblivion. He bit the fading scar on your neck, you all but wailed his name, he hissed, teeth clenched between your shoulder, your warm velvet like cunt spasmed around his cock like a vice.

Fuck he was close. His fingers dug into your wrist, it’ll definitely bruise. Held you in place while his cock pounded into you erratically, making small thrusts as he rode out his high, pumping his seed into your cervix.

“Good girl…” He kissed your face, breathing heavily while you mumbled something even his enhanced super-soldier hearing couldn’t make out.

You let your alpha manhandle your spent and boneless body, pulling you against him. You let sleep overcome you.

……. It was gone.

It was all gone. You walked into the lab, seeing the empty premise, your files, data, journals, all that there was on your work desk, an intricate crystal vase, a bouquet of fresh lilies. There was a note stuck on it.

‘I’m sorry Cupcake. Evebiotech is still your baby.”

You crumpled the paper in your hand, angrily tossing it across the room. Having a full-blown meltdown as you wiped your face of the stray tears that managed to escape. You started pacing, Evebiotech is just a subsidiary of Stark Enterprise, it meant that power of veto still comes from him, or whomever the fuck was the CEO of that subsidiary.

Damn you, Stark.

Your research, your work. You could barely believe it, you slumped against the wall, your knees giving out as you sat there on the marbled floor defeated.

You heard footsteps; you knew whose. You stood up shakily, the fall of your shoes going faster as you reached your saviour. Your small hands bunched at the front of his shirt. The floodgates open. Tears broiling through unabashedly.

“They- they took my work. Tony... he- Everything’s gone- journal – samples. St-Steve they- it's gone... ”

Your words made less and less sense and you were just overwhelmed, you felt your chest constricting. Your Alpha had pulled you into his arms. A sense of calm washed over you as he rubbed your back.

“Shh, it’s okay. Your work isn’t gone, it’s just moved to someplace else, they’ll handle it. They’ll synthetize it. It’ll take years before it can reach to general market. That’s what you wanted right?”

The warm pad of his thumbs brushed away the tears on your face, leaving a wet streak. You were in a daze as you met his patronizing gaze, he was smiling. Tucking a stray hair behind your ears.

What? You smiled back at him; a nervous feeling blooming but you can’t quite pinpoint as to why.

“How did you know it was moved?”

You hated how unsure you sound.

“Evebiotech… Stark made me CEO. That way I get to keep my eye on project Epsilon and on you.”

“You did this…”

Your accusatory glare behind your wet lashes made his jaw ache. A tick forming on his forehead. He wasn’t the bad guy, what is wrong with you? This is your own safety. Your future. He liked your little spitfire attitude, but enough is enough.

Before you could walk past him, his hand shot out, reaching to your head. He bunched his fist into your hair, twisting you, forcing you to look at him.

“The people I cared for were either experimented on or murdered for science. Hell is gonna have to freeze over before I let my mate suffer through either fate!”

What you saw, scared you, burned right into your long-term memory, he was spiraling, it was as if … as if this was how he is all along. If the dull ache forming in your skull was any indication that he was using more force than necessary to get his point across.

He released you, and your knees gave away. Slumping onto the floor. You didn’t know how to even react. What to feel.

“Pack your stuff, we’re moving.” Your heart was drumming so loud, you could hear it.

He released you, and you, burned right into your long-term memory, he was spiraling, it was as if ... as if this was how he truly was.

If the dull ache forming in your skull was any indication that he was using more force than necessary to get his point across. Who had you married, who was really your mate?

Your Alpha? The confusion, pain, threatened to consume you whole into this dark, unfeeling abyss.

“If you pull one of your stunts again like last night, I won’t be so gentle.”

He likes you like that. On the floor, looking defeated so vulnerable, when you knew your place.

[katsukikitten]

Hi! I was wondering if you could could do bakugo with a depressed and self-harming s/o? Shes trying so hard not to do but it was one of those days that the urge was almost impossible to ignore? Sorry if its too dark, i just feel this very mood rn. Sorry to bother you and i love your work ❤️💕

This would never bother me love. Please feel free to message me should you need me. You have my full support and I will always help you to my best abilities.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'LL LOSE THE BATTLE. I KNOW YOU ARE STRONG YOU CAN DO THIS.

It sat on your shoulder, weighing down on your mind, body and soul. Wispy fingers digging into flesh as it peers over you too curious for it's own good.

It smiles a jagged tooth smile as it sees what has your heart and mind racing so erratically. It morphs all on it's own as you stare at the 34% written in blotchy red ink and it seems to whisper with a gravely voice.

*"Worthless."*

You twist at your skin on your forearms agitating old scars that burn to be reopened and picked over for the next few weeks. Your forearm reddens from the Indian burn you're giving yourself all the while your mind stays on a dark loop. Repeating things over and over as you try to understand this failing grade.

As you try to wrap your mind around how in the hell could this be your fifth one in a row.

You were going to fucking flunk, you were going to have to say good bye to your dreams, to all of your aspirations as a hero. You thought you might as well go back to the dorms and start packing now as you proved to yourself exactly what you've always known and exactly what it's always breathed down the nape of your neck.

*"Not good enough."*

The skin begins to bloom in blues and purples, much like a moody flower as you're absorbed in thought trying to break the cycle of it.

Trying to ignore the call of old burns on your ribs from your friends curling iron, trying so damn hard to not hear that the school is teaming with sharp objects to slice yourself with.

So absorbed really that you do not hear the bell dismissing school, only the rushing blood in your ears.

Oblivious to the burning eyes that watch your hand work, that have seen the scars in training but would never be shameless enough to ask.

He figured it out quickly, noticing with deft eyes the neatly set rows of dated scars, of their organization and as far as he knew you had never been captured.

A strong hand wraps around the wrist that has been twisting the past hour.

"Enough. It's just a grade. I'll help you study." All biting voice as his vice grip dies down. He has your backpack on what is normally his free shoulder. You blush furiously, feeling shame heat your cheeks as you hadn't realized you were being so obvious.

"Let's go Y/LN!" He shouts now from the door trying to keep the bite out of his voice.

He fails as the chair scrapes against the cold linoleum. He bites his lip waiting for you to fall into step.

The walk home is silent and awkward at best. Embarrassment creeps in reddish hues onto your cheeks as you think of who else may have seen you.

Who else noticed your unstable mind and insecure actions?

The thought has you subconsciously twisting again as thoughts swirl faster and faster as they think of what will relieve the tension.

Did you have any more razors? Surely one of the girls did, if not the corner store.

But did you have the extra cash?

As you rack your brain for either a hidden stash of instruments or cash it hits you. You had that lighter your stole ages ago. It only took 70 seconds for a burn to form. 70 agonizingly lovely seconds for your skin to warp and bubble until the pain was so numbing you felt your body go slack. Your brain finally giving you endorphins you so thoroughly craved.

And the best part about a burn is that it would hurt for weeks after, and especially so any time you introduced it to hear. Skin jaded from its previous encounter with unpleasantly warm.

Just as your nails begin to break skin a calloused hand has gripped your wrist once more. Hand slipping into yours while intertwining fingers in a bone crushing grip.

"Whatever it is you're thinking. You better not." Its a threat that actually scares you.

How had he read your mind? You swallow thickly while trying not to look any more suspicious under his exceptionaly watchful eye.

Once the two of you reach the dorm he squeezes your hand tightly, slipping your back onto your shoulder before growling in your ear.

"Whenever you feel...down you come to me." His voice is darker than you've ever heard before he lets go of your hand waltzing into the dorms.

Days pass with the single thought of painful released flooding your system.

Anytime you reached for your lighter you thought of burning red eyes.

Of the wraith that would be looming in them.

Of the disappointment.

You gulp down air as you try to fight it especially now that the inanimate object seems to have gained a voice.

A voice that echos what the wispy black beast that hangs onto your back screams in your ear.

*"Do it. Do it. DO IT!"*

It said it every time you were in the shower and around razor heads lying around, screeched when it saw the sharp edge of a broken tile in the bathroom. It yelled it during practice as you watched Todoroki's flame lick greedily at the ground, at the walls of the fake city.

Dancing in the sunlight as if it were a savior, calling out to be caressed as the paint beneath bubbled and warped.

Your fingers had reached out. Had begun to feel the heat.

Until you were so selfishly ripped away by strong hands and heated scarlet eyes.

Shoving you to continue the mission.

It took on new words now as you reached for your box in your closet. Taking down the black shoe box of sad poems and long forgotten notes from long forgotten friends.

And as you stare down at the scratched chrome rectangle, flopping open the top.

You still hear that magical sound of sloshing butane. Now you just have to hope the flint is still good. Hesitation seizes your muscles as your thumb rests on the steel wheel, is this really such a good idea?

Think of all of the people who abandoned you when they found out.

Think of the hurt shining in your parents eyes when they saw the scars littering your body, wondering what they did to make you so unhappy.

Think of how you only feel smaller when you do it.

You're about put it away, seal it back in its black converse labeled coffin when that wispy small thought you'd tried so hard to talk over is finally heard.

*"But think of how good it feels in the moment."*

With that your thumb comes fully down, the flint sparks igniting the soaked wick that now dances in the comfort of your room.

Singing its praises, asking you to come closer for a reward.

You listen, bringing your hand down slowly over the lit lighter, as the heat turns from pleasantly warm to Redding burn.

Closer still you push your palm until your skin is in the flame. Silently ticking by the seconds.

35 have passed as you're halfway there, the smell of skin is staring to waft onto the air as your skin has already become distorted, discolored as the flames lovingly leave your with a heated numbness.

At least for now.

A knock comes at the door, earning you a small yelp. Suddenly the fire has become hot, burning as you flick closed the top and drop the lighter.

"J..just a minute." You call out starring at your palm gripping at your wrist.

"Hurry up. We don't have much time to study before bed. Your retake is in two days." His voice comes out gruff starling you even more.

You hadn't asked for Bakugou's help, so why was the hot head barking on the other side of your door.

Shit.

This was getting worse by the second. With nothing to wrap your hand it you tell yourself you'll be able to hide it as you reach for the doorknob. Causing a pain to shoot from your hand all the way up to your shoulder as you force the fried nerves onto a cool surface. Twisting as you go.

Maybe it wasn't your best idea to use it on your dominate hand.

But what's done is done.

"We c...can go to the common room and study." You suggest but barges himself in anyway standing just inside your door as he thinks of the best way to avoid the landmine of clothes and books scatter across the hardwood.

"Too loud." He dismisses finding the perfect path to your desk.

The perfect path that has his boot toeing the lighter. Causing it to skid into his sight. He leans over to pick it up, feeling the warmth coming from it and finally placing the odd smell that lingers in your room.

He glares over his shoulder as your heart pounds in your throat, causing a lump to form as you see what you told yourself was going to be there.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Especially so with how neatly he sets down the test materials, stepping with precise foot steps before he stands in front of you.

Heated sugar begins to flood the room before a few uncontrolled pops ring our over his shoulders and forearms.

"What's this?" He asks calmly which scares you more than anything and when you cannot answer he notices you hiding your dominate hand.

"N..n..nothing Bakugou. I...I found it on campus and thought it looked cool. I wanted to..to keep it." You stumble with frayed nerves as you avoid his eyes, telling a half truth. You do collect odd things that you find. Thinking they bring you fortune and you did find the zippo on campus, just not this one.

He looks you over debating before he grits his teeth. Hand causing the lighter to explode.

"And then you lie to me." He comes out dark, rubbing you the wrong way as you think of all the other faces his match right now.

As you remember that they gave you their backs becoming nothing more than memories and empty promises immortalized on line paper that rots in a coffin made of a black converse box.

You cannot stop the tears as you fall to the floor. Crying loudly and openly, large droplets raining down onto your shirt and the hard wood floor.

Bakugou's own heart lodges in his throat as he stares down at you.

Per the usual fucking up how you're supposed to react.

This wasn't supportive like the internet had said. Nor was it loving.

Hell, if anything this was the exact opposite of what was advised to do. And here he stood losing his temper over something you clearly struggled with.

The worst part to him was that there was nothing he could do to change this, to alter how you feel. To stop you all together and force you into a different, more healthy coping mechanism.

No all he could was watch from the sidelines.

And Bakugou Katsuki was a starter.

He sighs sinking to his knees pulling you into him as you stain his pressed shirt. Dampen it until nothing else comes out and the numbness begins to set in.

All the while he smooths down your hair and let's his hand travel down your back in a loving warm touch. When he thinks you are done he pushes you away so he can stare into your gorgeous eyes and admits what he never thought he would.

"I can't fix this for you. I can't take it away. I cant fight it off. Kiss it away. Fuck it away. Or rip the urge from your body." He squeezes your shoulders tightly, "Only you can do that."

The two of you stay quiet as you realize the weight of his words.

"You're the only one strong enough to fight this. I can support you, I can be a shoulder to cry on, a punching bag whatever. But I can't fucking fix this for you." Another pop from his shoulders before he let's out a shaking sigh, "But I sure as fuck believe in you. You stopped once. You can stop again. As long as you keep getting back up Y/N it doesn't matter that you *ever* fell. So please....please let me help you. Let me be that shoulder, that punching back. That void you vent to."

More tears glisten in your eyes as he kisses your forehead, he pulls you back into another death grip hug, voice threatening to crack as he adds.

"Please let me help you kick this things ass."

[foramomentonly]

Nail in My Coffin, Part 8a

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    Part Four    Part Five    Part Six    

Part Seven

Summary: Alex and Kyle are fashion designers on a Next In Fashion style reality show. Michael is their model. Dom/sub elements. Prompt courtesy of @signoraviolettavalery .

Michael and Alex go public. Takes place between Parts 5/6 and Part 7.

TW: Semi-public sex, restraints

Author’s Note: This one got LONG. So this is part A and part B will be posted simultaneously and is a direct continuation.

Read on AO3

The swagger with which Michael enters the studio in Alex’s Air Force t-shirt can only be described as excessive.

He’s worn it before, of course, usually half-concealed under a jacket or one of his endless denim or flannel button-downs—for a man working in the fashion industry he has shockingly little interest in personal style and grooming. But today, when he throws open the heavy double doors on set and ambles in looking like the cat fucking drowning in cream, the shirt is on full display, logo across the chest pulled a little less taut than it would be on Alex’s frame, but bold and obvious nonetheless. Alex smirks, trying and utterly failing not to stare as Michael locks eyes with him across the studio and sets off toward his station like a bloodhound. Kyle notices, notices Alex noticing, and shoots him a quizzical look.

“What’s he doing?” he asks. “He’s working with Liz and Rosa again today, isn’t he?”

“I think he’s coming to say hello,” Alex says, shaking his head in amusement and unable to keep his eyes off of Michael as he weaves between stations, equipment, and people. “We had a...talk the other night.”

He turns as Michael approaches, leaning back casually against the drafting table and waiting. And with zero hesitation Michael steps into Alex’s space, crowding him against the table with his arms on either side of Alex’s hips and captures his lips in a wet, open-mouthed, not-even-remotely-appropriate-for-public kiss. Alex slides his hands into Michael’s curls and tugs, biting at his bottom lip and laughing into the kiss as Michael moans exaggeratedly, and half the room whoops and burst into applause. Alex pulls back a little self-consciously, but he can’t stop smiling, and Michael is looking at him like he’s forgotten he was putting on an elaborate show not thirty seconds ago. 

“Hi,” he whispers, and sneaks back in to peck Alex once more, light and sincere.

“Nice shirt,” Alex replies lightly, and Michael grins wide.

“Oh, it’s not mine,” he shakes his head, voice teasing, but eyes intent. “It’s my boyfriend’s.”

“Okay,” says a brash voice to their left, “you know everyone’s only clapping cuz they don’t have to watch you two pretend to sneak around anymore, right?”

They turn their heads to find Rosa, hip cocked, arms crossed, and dark eyes narrow. Her stare is severe, but there’s a glint in her eyes, and her full lips are quirked in a playful smirk.

“Let’s go, güey,” she says to Michael. “You got a lot to make up to me and we started when you still had your tongue down your boyfriend’s throat.”

Michael grins one last time and darts forward, pressing a dry kiss to Alex’s cheek before he turns dutifully toward Rosa.

“Take him,” Kyle says, disgusted, waving his hand as if to shoo Michael away. “Take them both. How is it worse now that you're not sneaking around?"

"Really, dude?" Rosa laughs as she turns back to her own station, confident Michael will follow. "Did you think they'd tone it down?"

***

Being open about their relationship is better because it’s clearly better for Michael. He’s basking in it, preening for no damn reason, so secure in the knowledge that everyone knows he belongs to Alex. And Alex is happy to see Michael so content, he really is. But as the day goes on, Alex’s mood grows darker, and he can’t seem to grasp why Michael’s barking laugh, his bright eyes and flashing teeth seem to haunt Alex as he struggles to maintain some semblance of professional focus and integrity. 

Alex is working on the hem of their model’s shorts—it’s always the fucking hem—and watching Michael out of the corner of his eye. He’s laughing with Liz, Rosa rolling her eyes dramatically, but smiling. She pushes his shoulder and gestures at his torso, and Michael easily lifts Alex’s shirt over his head and drapes it over the garment rack to his left. Alex glowers at Michael’s tan, bare chest and the sharp curve of his hips, now on full display for the whole studio to see. Alex burns, arousal flushing his cheeks and something dark and unforgiving heating the blood in his veins. His next pass of the needle is a touch too aggressive, and his model gives a yelp as it pricks her thigh.

“I’m so sorry, Maria,” Alex says, leaning back as she bends over to inspect her leg.

“It’s all right,” she assures him, straightening again and gesturing for Alex to continue his work. “It was a pinch, that’s all.”

Alex shakes his head and he takes the garment back in hand, hyperfocused on his next stitch.

“It was stupid,” he insists. “I’m just—I’m distracted today.”

"I noticed,” Maria quips, laughter in her voice. 

Alex looks up at her and she smirks knowingly, eyes traveling deliberately to where Michael is—oh, fuck—dramatically dropping his pants, standing smugly in tiny red briefs as Rosa gags and Liz covers her mouth, half gaping, half giggling. Maria’s gaze returns to Alex and she raises a perfect brow.

“He's a lot to look at,” she grins. “Believe me, I know."

She gives him a conspiratorial wink, and Alex blinks. When he doesn't respond, her brow furrows and she begins to chew her lip nervously.

"O-oh, I'm sorry," she says. "Did you not know he–or that we used to–"

Alex comes back to himself and smiles quickly, reassuringly.

"No, no," he assures her. "You're fine. I mean, I didn't know about your, um, history, but don't worry. You didn't say anything wrong."

She smiles weakly at him and clears her throat, eyes fixed ahead and very much not on either Alex or Michael. 

And, objectively, it really, absolutely is fine. Of course Michael has a sexual history, and Alex has always known it includes both women and men. He's been in this industry long enough to know that the social scene in any given fashion hub is insular and smaller than you might think. He's not at all surprised Michael has slept with another model from the show. They are some of the most beautiful people in the world by trade; it's natural that they’d seek out sex with one another. Alex would never begrudge Michael his history, not even when he currently has a hand on its very long, very soft, toned leg.

But he can't fight the dark, hot roil in the pit of his stomach that is growling mine.

***

Liz and Rosa finally let Michael go around three o’clock, confident they won’t need him again until the final fitting before runway the next day. He re-dresses hurriedly, eyes drifting shut as he tugs Alex’s shirt over his head and catches the scent of Alex’s detergent, his body wash, the heady smell of his skin. Michael runs a hand down his own torso under the guise of smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt, but in reality, he’s worked up, on edge, and while it’s not his own hands he wants to feel dragging across his body, any touch helps to ground and focus him. He needs to find Alex, who's been conspicuously absent from his station since he let Maria go fifteen minutes ago.

Michael groans as he carefully fastens his jeans. He’s been half-hard all day long, Alex’s gaze a tangible thing, hot and heavy on the back of his neck. It’s been awkward, given the joke underwear he threw on to fuck with Rosa. It’s also unsettling. He's used to working for it, drawing Alex's focus from across the room slowly, painstakingly, with flourish. He's used to earning Alex's attention. Today, it has seemed to haunt him, and there's a hollow pit in his stomach and a dark voice in his ear whispering, You fucked up.

As soon as he's out of range of Rosa's prying eyes, he pulls his phone from his pocket and sends Alex a text.

M: Where are you rn?

He doesn’t expect Alex to answer quickly; Alex isn’t the type to jump for every buzz of his phone. But his reply comes almost immediately.

A:Dressing room.

The show isn’t nearly high profile enough for individual designers or models to have their own space, but they do have one dingy, communal “dressing room” set up for general purposes. Private phone calls, crying and bitching sessions, even panic attacks are not out of the ordinary. It’s a space designed to be out of reach of cameras and mics. That Alex is using it now pushes Michael from unsettled to concerned.

M: You okay?

A: Yes.

Michael is considering a response, his desire to respect Alex’s privacy battling with his need for reassurance, to wrap himself in the warm security of Alex’s touch and voice, when his phone vibrates again in his hand.

A: Wanna play?

Oh. Oh.

Michael licks his lips, pulse quickening. He’d sensed Alex’s restlessness, the steady strum of tension between them, and fell back into old habits. Presumed the worst, accepted fault, assumed he had failed on some intrinsic level. But this is not Michael disappointing Alex; this is Michael overwhelming him. 

Michael grins.

M: On my way, Captain.

[thelifetimechannel]

The Dave and Dirk log, for obvious reasons, was something I wanted to try very hard to get right. That meant although we drafted it together via msparp, as was our custom, I ended up overhauling it way more than any of our other combo walkaround logs. A few chunks did survive the transfer, though.

In other news, we’ve made a solemn pact to finish TLC over winter break, which is good because I’m running out of bonus content. Hopefully we’ll have some assets to show off soon. I’ve already seen a few; they’re very nice.  

DIRK: Hey, dude. You did pretty well out there. DIRK: Didn't even die once. DAVE: twice in a day is my max im satisfied with keeping that record DAVE: even if getting machinegunned is rapidly becoming my "thing" DIRK: Seems we each have our respective "signature deaths". DIRK: Or at least it ain't a party until I get decapitated. That sure was something we needed to do again. DIRK: Just once, for old time's sake. DAVE: well that puts the nail in the meme coffin DAVE: any time you panic someones gonna tell you to keep your head on DAVE: like keeping your hair on except you know that shit aint going anywhere its probably shellaced DIRK: That shit is bolted to the floor. Did you know I walked around with a girly-ass pink tiara on my head this whole day and had no idea? DIRK: I had no idea. Couldn't feel a thing. DIRK: And people let me do that. DIRK: Can't fuckin' believe it. DAVE: oh DAVE: i figured you knew DIRK: I am less than pleased with my Skaia-ordained divine color scheme. DIRK: But I guess I have to live with it. It's part of the team aesthetic. DAVE: you could always change DIRK: Nah, with the tiara and tights ditched I have at least mitigated the enforced flamboyance. It's bearable. DIRK: I can't be the one dude out of uniform. Couldn't bear the shame. DAVE: my outfit is pretty sick ngl DAVE: sburb knows everyones secret desire is to have a cape DIRK: Unfortunately, mine isn't long enough to also make for a good tactical maneuver. DIRK: Not gonna lie, that was pretty funny. DAVE: if nothing else my attempts at combat can provide a source of humor in our lives DAVE: but honestly id be fine if my fighting days were over DAVE: i was never into it DAVE: rose on the other hand was obviously itching to beat people up DAVE: one of those 12 year olds who wants to get jumped in an alley to work out her suppressed anger DIRK: Maybe Skaia did make a few miscalculations in dumping your asses with your respective guardians. I think you'd get along well with Roxy and her cats, make her budget her time away from the alcohol. DIRK: ...in theory. DIRK: Rose can go a few rounds with me if she wants, we still need to sort out who has the rights to document our legendary journies. DAVE: ill plan your funeral DAVE: what kind of flowers do you want DIRK: ...there's different kinds? DAVE: damn thats right you grew up in waterworld DAVE: these choices matter DAVE: allegedly theres a thing called "flower language" DAVE: whether you can actually send someone a boquet telling them to meet you in the pit i dont know DIRK: Like, I get that, in theory, different kinds of flowers exist. But I fully anticipate any attempt on my part to conjugate in the language of said plants would end in my coffin declaring my hovercraft was indeed full of eels. DIRK: Maybe it'll have thorns on it. Or it'll be like the sixteen millions tons of green bullshit covering my land and making my nose itch. DAVE: probably DIRK: Worst case scenario, I'll pick out something orange and present to a prospective love interest and it'll mean something like "my brotherly passion for you knows no boundaries, and also no homo". DAVE: my bro wouldnt go for flower arranging DAVE: or pink tiaras DAVE: he was pretty uptight about the whole rah rah macho act DAVE: probably subscribed to alpha males weekly DAVE: which is weird considering DAVE: well DAVE: youre gay right DIRK: Uh. DIRK: Well. DIRK: My symbolic quest land is not covered in green bullshit, but I. DIRK: Happen to like watching birds, if you know what I mean. DIRK: Fuck, you probably don't know what that means. Jake and his goddamn thousand euphemisms. DAVE: cant say i do no DIRK: Nobody knows what it means but Jake. It's an old time epithet for being into dudes. DIRK: He knows all the old epithets, including some I suspect he made up. DAVE: so DAVE: thats a yes DAVE: in a roundabout way that includes birds DIRK: I've never denied it. DIRK: I'm just. DIRK: Not a huge fan of the word. Why, in this world post-society, do we need to confine ourselves to labels like "gay"? Such constraints were washed away from my world with the rest of the human race. DAVE: holy shit that was such a pretentious dodge DAVE: dont let rose hear you say that DIRK: Rose can hear all she likes. DAVE: but anyway DAVE: i wasnt asking to get up all in your business like SOME PEOPLE DAVE: who are so into getting into other peoples businesses theyre basically the fucking mafia or the irs DAVE: but DAVE: it explains some stuff DAVE: but on the other hand it doesnt DAVE: the way you raised me was kinda aggressively mainstream masculine enough that it wasnt something that ever seemed to come up as an option DAVE: [describe that type of culture and mindset better later, I KNOW what i mean but im tired rn lmao] DAVE: and anything outside of that id just brush off because it couldnt apply to me DAVE: and that went for pretty much everything that went against what you wanted for me DAVE: including that DIRK: And yet, here the man was, subconsciously shrieking his desire for floppy felt dong through, DIRK: What I guess you could call his art, for want of any other applicable word at all. God, the mental images are crawling up the insides of my skull like the Exorcist child, do I want to know? DAVE: probably not DAVE: guess trying to act peak male has its drawbacks DAVE: weirdly enough troll culture is obsessively hyperviolent but doesnt give a shit about sexuality DAVE: they dont see the difference most of the time i guess DAVE: and so like DAVE: maybe it rubs off on you because in some ways that kind of makes sense DAVE: but after so long its hard to know what i feel and what it means because i spent so long ignoring it DAVE: so i guess i was wondering DAVE: if you had anything that might help with that DAVE: or if youre also trapped in this whirling screaming maelstrom of bullshit DAVE: while kinsey sits in the eye of the storm laughing DIRK: Wait, wait, wait. DIRK: You're coming to me. DIRK: For advice. DIRK: Do you know what a laughable hurricane of disaster my interpersonal life has been? DIRK: Like, in a weird way, I'm kind of honored, especially since about five hours ago you were scared shitless to be around me, but. DIRK: I'm standing here and waving my credentials in the air just to display how I don't fucking have any. My degree is a sham and my hands are empty except for a crudely scribbled on piece of construction paper. DAVE: are you suggesting theres a gay university DAVE: where you study bird watching DIRK: Do I look like a man who's been to college? DAVE: fair DAVE: but like DAVE: your friends know DAVE: how did you broach the subject there DIRK: I might as well have been dating a Yoko Ono for the devastation it wreaked on our friend group, so yeah, it was a little hard to ignore. DIRK: Compounded by the fact some smartass from Gay University was using my social circle for romance geometry homework. DIRK: It wasn't even a love triangle so much as a love roundabout. DAVE: ok but thats just because you were a dipshit not a gay dipshit DAVE: they were chill about the first part right DIRK: Thanks. DIRK: I mean... Roxy always seemed disappointed. DAVE: luckily i dont think anyones waiting in line for me DAVE: i guess im blowing it out of proportion DAVE: i dont think anyone will MIND DAVE: no one did about rose and kanaya DAVE: didnt even question the vampire bit which goes to show what our lives are like these days DAVE: like ok our outfit has vampires now DAVE: thats a thing that we have DAVE: if i say oh hey i might be bisexual theyll just say sure pull up a chair at the acronym table DAVE: the only one who might be weird about it is john DAVE: but hed be just as weird if i told him id changed my favorite color hes just like that DAVE: the only person its really a big deal for is me DIRK: Jane was a little bit like that. I'm pretty sure the only reason she had to object was because she found out the day I made a move on her crush. DIRK: It might just be growing up in a household where you're not regularly fighting for your life, and thus what genders are kissing whom has the space to be higher on your priority list. DAVE: that aint anyones priority these days DAVE: im prepared to acknowledge the concept that hey maybe everyone elses lives dont revolve around me and my personal drama or self revelations might have some merit at least as a hypothesis DAVE: when i met kid english he kept going on about how i was the most important person and everyone else was side characters DAVE: and maybe ive acted like that sometimes DIRK: Yeah, like you alone are the one responsible for everyone around you. DAVE: and maybe ive acted like i think that way too sometimes DAVE: ive been wrong about people DAVE: people i care about people i shouldve known better DAVE: i was wrong because i wanted to believe things that matched how i wanted the world to be DAVE: things that made it easier for the story i was telling myself DAVE: i dont think kid english meant to call me on it but damn DIRK: Reality is, after all, something we construct for ourselves. DIRK: I think maybe I knew that all along when I surfaced for air inbetween shoving my head as far up my ass as it would go. DIRK: Or maybe that's just what I try to tell myself in hindsight. DAVE: well if it takes a hyperactive 12 year old version of the final bosss creepy hero worship of me to make a point i guess thats not the least subtle way the universe has sent me a message lately DIRK: You want unsubtle? Let me tell you about my damn planet quest. DAVE: haha DAVE: i didnt have to do much of my quest because im invisible DAVE: thanks mom DIRK: My denizen practically sat me down like it was my life coach and growled in my ear about improving my communication skills with a guy I told to go fuck himself not eighteen hours prior. DIRK: So while I'm glad SBURB has a vested interest in me repairing my friendships, playing electroshock death DDR with him was a little on the nose. DAVE: maybe getting shot again wasnt that bad DAVE: so weve all learned our life lessons good job team DIRK: Exactly. Can we wrap this up now? Can we please go rest? DIRK: I'm so exhausted I haven't even noticed I'm still hungover. DAVE: sure thing DAVE: but if i need tips on leaping out of a closet to intimidate passerby i might text you DIRK: I mean, I can try. As long as you don't ask me for dating tips. That, I definitely shouldn't be helping you with. DIRK: Go talk to your sister for that. DIRK: ...wouldn't she, by the transitive property of siblings, also be my sister? DAVE: yeah i guess DAVE: but theres no way in hell im asking rose for dating advice DAVE: on her first date which she refused to admit was romantically oriented she got wasted in anticipation forgot to show up and then fell down the stairs DIRK: Oh my god. DAVE: she tries to look like shes got her shit together but its a lie DAVE: if you find my corpse floating on lolar in the next few hours dont let the truth die with me DIRK: Why are we like this? DIRK: Is there actually something hardwired into our DNA that predisposes us to being disasters? DIRK: But, that aside. DIRK: I won't object if it's me you come to talk to. DAVE: ill hold you to it DAVE: and if you ever want to publicly you admit you DAVE: "enjoy birdwatching" DAVE: in less vague and evasive terms DAVE: ill have your back DIRK: Thanks.

[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-