#tmc shit post

[fizzzyz]

Adam getting silly with it

We do a mild amount of tomfoolery

(I want more art requests pls)

[butterscotch-goat]

girls be calling me basic when their boyfriends literally look like this

[poptartregreteva]

i have a feeling someones going to laugh at this without admitting...

slowly looks over at @lowksune

[thirstingforslashers]

Why?

I don't see anything wrong with his Weezer blue eyes 💙

⬇️😭⬇️

[aglitchysylveon]

No new Scream brain rot, but I do have some TMC shit, have my OC Cecelia.

[lookatourstrangecat]

Apparently alternates melt. Great. Just great. Now we need to clean this before Ces and Mark get home.

—Sarah H.

[deckofcookiez]

Don’t think I ever posted these, but I colored a couple of those doodles I did of Adam awhile back. I think they look better with color and shading tbh

Just as a reminder, I am not supporting Alex Kister! I am, however, separating the art from the artist; and I will continue to appreciate the characters and draw/write about them, as I believe they are still fascinating and good characters.

I will probably be posting a lot of my old art in bursts here for a bit—mostly TMC, but probably stuff of other fandoms and OCs too. Kinda wanna get it all out there now, before the fandom, uh… probably… kinda dies. Oof…

I think I’ll probably start putting warnings on anything TMC related I may post in the future, sort of how the TribeTwelve community seems to do in regards to their similar situation. Feel free to block TMC tags if you don’t want to see it at all.

I’m also gonna just start posting art of other stuff in general, once I kinda catch up on all the art I’ve done already. For now gonna just… get this all out there, and then probably try to take a break from TMC for a little bit. Focus my attention on more than just a single interest, haha.

[inkyantace7]

That was the quickest drama I've ever gone through in a fandom. As far as I'm aware this shit started on the 18th (that's at least when I saw everyone start posting about it). 3 DAYS. IT TOOK THREE DAYS FOR EVERYTHING TO BE FINE

Anyway Azure fans how ya feeling

[paranormeow7]

Alex kister has a tumblr now… Nobody Is Safe

[hueyemmerichsexolegs]

Toonbriel Moodboard!

[fizzzyz]

POV: this weird creature falls out of your tv.

He’s coming to collect your children. Beware.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

//very very loud and blood/gore at the end//

“we have come to go exploring :)”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUU-“

(made by me 👍)

-----

This is a real and totally legit leak for HSH vol 2 trust me /j

[wildwolf-fandoms]

Unholy by Hollywood Undead is soo The Mandela Catalogue vibes, especially from Gabriel or another Alternate's pov. How could I be so blind to truth?

[techgeek2t0]

Uhh . Ramona , mim adam, Scott, little adam and tmcblr adam x2 ❤️ rbs appreciated

[ghostly-bastard-artchive]

I forgor (TMC Fanfic)

_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†

Do you ever forget something that you KNOW you know? Like when you write something so many times it's a given, a muscle memory. Doing it over and over and knowing it as a part of you.

Then your muscles just, , , don't remember.

Muscles not remembering something is such a weird thought though, cause that's the thing, they don't have thoughts, his chest isn't deciding to move up and down.

I mean yeah, there are electric impulses through the flesh, and that is all thoughts really are when you get all "existential" and nitpicking about it but, , , it's different. There's probably a science behind that somewhere, how muscle memory works.

He doesn't know, and even if he did it didn't help any now, as he grips the pen.

It was fucking stupid, to be scared this fucking sticky piece of paper. His chest stalled with his breath. He grips the pen harder in his hand, hard enough that his hands are sweaty and that it creaks a bit. This was insane, it was the worst. The paper still stared blank tho, offensive.

Just, just write it down, he tells himself. Fucking, write it down and move on with it. How could he not remember it?! It's just, that's something you KNOW, and how could he not? Was his chest even moving? He knew who he was, what he was here to do and just, , , just write it down, fucking write it down. His chest wasn't moving, how could it be moving, it didn't know to move, cause it didn't know anything and it didn't know what it was and-

"Adam, dude, the fuck is taking so long?"

Adam looks up. There was air in his lungs. He was breathing. Air, air in his lungs like there were supposed to be. They were moving again cause that's what they were supposed to do and it knew that.

Jonah stands there, an eyebrow raised and that stupid fucking lopsided grin on his face as he waits for an answer. His stupid fucking silver hair all falling in his face, and wearing that sweater that smell like a walking drug bust.

Jonah gestures to Adam again.

" Dude, you still a little~?" Jonah made a motion with his hand like he would be pulling a cigarette away from his mouth, a muscle memory for him, probably, those fingers with the black chipped nails had done it enough times. You could probably guess that about him without even knowing Jonah like Adam did.

Adam pulled a scowl on his face and shook his head, bending his head to write as Jonah snorted that stupid light laugh that sounds like he'd never been on the ground long enough to hurt.

"Hi, my name is- _____"

Adam scribbles down "Adam", slapping the sticker on and dashing after Jonah, bumping shoulders with him in the way only friends do and Jonah going to ruffle his hair, Adam easily dodging it with a grumble and Jonah with a laugh, both of them walking further into the building.

[hoperoiselover]

AHSGDGAHGDAJ SCHOOL IS BEATING MY ASS :SOB: GOD BLESS, BUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS CHAPTER, THIS CHAPTER WILL LEAD ONTO MORE EVENTS WHERE WE CAN SEE CHARACTERS INTERACTING MORE AND BUILDING RELATIONSHIPS! (so that the climax totally won't hit harder-) BUT ANYWHO- ENJOY!! <3 :] READ CHAPTER TWELVE ON AO3 HERE! Tw: Alcohol stay safe <3 CHAPTER TWELVE, EYE IN THE STORM

It was using their voices.

His Mother’s tender and soft hums. The same ones that sung him to sleep at night when he had a nightmare. Her voice would echo in the room as she had cradled him in her arms.

He could hear his Father’s rough yet comforting chuckles. He could imagine him smiling, his crooked front teeth and prickly beard. Just like when he used to read bedtime stories to him as he sat on his Father’s leg.

Mark stepped towards the stairs. He could not see anything. The darkness of the stairs wrapped around his feet as Mark stepped closer. His bottom lip quivered. Was it really them? Had they truly come back?

“Mark?.. What are you doing out of bed kiddo?.. Everything alright?” Dave stood outside his bedroom door. He leaned against the door frame, his voice soft and deep.

“I…I thought I heard something…” Mark mumbled as he fidgeted with his hoodie strings. The darkness emitting from the stairs receded.

“Oh Mark… come on,.. Let’s get you back in bed… If you want I can turn on the hall lights,” Dave sighed softly, looking at the little scared boy in front of him.

“...O-okay..” Mark shook and slowly went over to his Uncle. He hugged his Uncle’s leg and sniffed.

Dave was worried for his nephew. The poor boy had gone through so much in his life, and he was so young too. He picked up Mark and held him close as he turned on the hallway lights, “Better buddy?”

“Mhm.. b-better..” Mark nodded and bit his fingers.

Dave sighed and walked back to Mark’s room. He placed Mark down on the bed and smiled softly, “Come on, get some sleep kiddo. You and ‘Sar are going back to Stanley’s tomorrow. Stanley said he had something fun planned for you kids in the afternoon,”

He smiled and patted Mark’s head, he hoped that talking to him about something positive would help Mark calm down.

“What is i-it?” Mark looked at Uncle Dave, and started to tuck himself in next to Cesar.

“Said he’s going to take you kiddos to the park to play and get you guys some ice cream,” Dave smiled softly and stood up, helping Mark get tucked in.

“Ice cream!” Mark smiled, a sparkle in his eyes made Dave chuckle quietly and patted the boy’s chest.

“Yeah! Now sleep, we want you all energized for tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, Uncle Dave.”

“Love you kiddo,”

“Love you too, Uncle.”

Dave kissed Mark’s forehead and smiled. He walked out of Mark’s bedroom and looked back from the door frame. Mark waved at him, and he waved back before heading back to his room, leaving the hallway lights on.

“-and I just don’t get it right. Like, he seems like a good kid but I just don’t know man, I want to help him and understand what the hell is going on but I'm just confused and a part of me wants to think that Ms. Cruz is crazy right, but I know she isn’t. She’s a mother concerned for her son, which tons of respect to her for that, like my mom was protective as hell with me when I was a kid but fuck man. I’m just-.... confused- you know?” Stanley looked at the man sitting on his bar stool chair as he cleaned his living room and kitchen.

Thatcher sighed and took a sip from his beer can, “Jesus dude-”

“I know right? Like-”

“Stanley, Stanley… please, calm down for a sec’, alright?” Thatcher cut off the smaller male and looked at him. Stanley had been ranting to him for the past twenty minutes about a worried mother and his story of discovering that one of the ‘boys’ she brought in might be an alternate. Thatcher had gotten a call from his friend and asked if he wanted to hang out with him at his place. Here Thatcher now was, sipping beer and wishing he was in bed.

Stanley sighed, “Sorry Thatch.”

“Nah dude, it’s okay, just calm down for a second…”

Stanley sat next to Thatcher on the parallel barstool and took a deep breath, “I’m tired Thatcher…”

“Then get some sleep buddy… I don’t know how you do it, working all day with kids, dealing with your own needs, cleaning, and everything else. Maybe you could use some help…” Thatcher rested his hand on Stanley’s back.

“I can’t afford to get help, Thatch.. You know I can’t…” Stanley looked at the blonde and sighed again, “But enough about me. How was your day?”

“Uh, well, those missing people files still fill my office… I can’t go in there anymore without feeling I’m going to go crazy… So I just sat at the front desk by the phone. I got a few calls, and guess what, more missing people… I was out all afternoon talking to people and filing paperwork… Maybe I should’ve become a mechanic or something I don’t know… Maybe I should’ve helped you out with your gig…” Thatcher took another drink from his beer.

Stanley smiled sadly and chuckled, “No,... I think you’re a pretty good cop…”

“Bullshit Montgomery,” Thatcher dryly laughed.

“I mean it you idiot!” Stanley playfully shoved Thatcher a bit, “Look,.. I know things have been rough since… we lost them… ,but we have to keep on pushing through…”

“Yeah… I know… Hey, I had a woman come into the station this morning, and said she found a kid named Adam just like your kid. She seemed stressed as hell. She looked like she saw a ghost when looking through the database of missing people. Didn’t say a thing when she left,” Thatcher looked at his now empty beer can.

“Really? Huh, did she have dark brown hair, wore a vest and the determination of a protective mother?” Stanley nudged Thatcher lightly, trying to keep the mood lighthearted.

Thatcher chuckled, “Yup, that sounds like her, so what’s her name? She walked out before I could get any info on her.. And I was too tired to care from my last shift-,”

“Ah,... Well, her name is Eliana Marshall, but she is using her maiden last name which is Cruz,” Stanley thought and nodded to himself.

“Mmh…. Alright, thanks dude…”

“Of course….”

“Want another beer?”

“God, yes.” END OF CHAPTER TWELVE, EYE IN THE STORM