#cut down the alter fanart

[miss-wanna-draw96]

Cut Down the Alter chibis :)

@missr3n3 be scared, I got more art for you and I have chibi-ed the ENTIRE gang that's still alive plus Delilah and Sam cause yeah

Art under cut:

Characters in appearance:

-Evelin Miller (a sweetheart)

-Sarah Heathcliff (will def throw hands)

-Jonah Marshall (part of the trauma trio)

-Adam Murray (part of the trauma trio)

-Thatcher Davis (part of the trauma trio)

-Delilah Sharpe (cool OC!)

-Sam Ortiz (he's holding soup)

Drawing them as chibis is actually very fun!

Also on an unrelated note: Both of our Adams hate their Gabriel which is kinda funny imo, okay bye now

[musical-shit-show]

electric touch

Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader

Inspiration: My own silly idea but also Prompts #70 (“are you actually trying to seduce me right now?”) and #86 (“they don’t need to know.”) from Prompt List 2

Warnings: Cursing, mutual pining, Adam is still kind of an asshole (duh), suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 1,363

Author’s Note: I just really wanted the mental picture of Adam in some rocker eyeliner, so I wrote it. That’s about it, just being very normal about this character :3 If anyone has seen any fanart of Adam with eyeliner, my DMs are always open. As always check out my Masterlist, About Me page, or Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit an ask! Happy reading! :)

“What’s that?”

You scoffed at the fallen angel lounging lazily on your bed, watching you intently as you went through your makeup routine.

You had just grabbed an eyeliner pencil, and were in the middle of smudging the smokey kohl onto your eyelids when Adam interrupted you.

“What, you didn’t have eyeliner in heaven?” you smirked, looking at him through the mirror on your vanity. Even in such a relaxed state, he still kept that stupid mask on.

He shook his head, “Why would we need makeup in a place where everyone’s fuckin’ perfect and poised 24/7?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you accepted the answer. Made sense, anyways. From what you heard from Charlie, Heaven probably looked like a dream come true. Why would anyone need to alter their appearance in a place like that?

Turning back to the task at hand, you jumped slightly when Adam appeared behind you, his face incredibly close to your own. He was studying you intently, his digital eyes flickering over your expression.

“Ugh, what is with you, dude?”

His eyes narrowed, lips forming into a tight line. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was…thinking. Which is not an activity Adam seemed to engage in, especially before speaking.

“It looks…good.” he muttered, feeling his face getting warm under his mask, “I guess I never really noticed it before.” You quirked an eyebrow, a small smile flashing across your face.

Ever since he turned up on the hotel’s doorstep practically begging for help from the Princess of Hell, Adam had decided to latch himself on to you. For what reason, you didn’t know; it didn’t particularly matter since any attempts to rid yourself of him were completely fruitless.

He was definitely an asshole, but he could be mildly amusing from time to time.

“Do you…do you want me to put some on you?”

He blinked stupidly. “I’m not gay, toots,” he deadpanned, “Despite what that little spider twink downstairs thinks—”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” you cut in, trying to stifle your laughter at his remark, “But makeup transcends sexuality.” He scoffed, letting his insecurity wash over him.

Adam would never admit it you or Charlie or anyone else at the hotel, but being here made him feel less alone than he ever felt in Heaven.

Up there, he was practically ignored, even treated as a nuisance by the seraphim and other higher ups. Which he was, but that was beside the point.

He was already ashamed of himself for asking Lucifer’s brat of all people for help, but he had nowhere else to turn and felt completely alone. Except when he was with you.

Although you were a sinner too, you didn’t judge him as harshly as the others. Hell, you were able to stand up to him, even reason with him when he was particularly crabby.

It scared him, though he’d never let you know that. He’d rather get stabbed through the chest again than be vulnerable.

Standing up, you gestured to the edge of the bed, encouraging Adam to sit down again. He hesitated for a moment, not willing to trust you fully.

“You know,” you drawled, “some of the greatest rockers on Earth wear eyeliner. And looks sexy as fuck doing it.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity.

“And,” you added, “A lot of ladies are actually into it. I swear.” He blew a raspberry in dismissal, still not fully convinced. He decided to humor you anyway; he had nothing better to do.

“Ugh, fine,” he whined, “You’re lucky I’m bored, sugartits.” He plopped onto your bed, faltering slightly when removing his mask; you rarely saw him without it, and were struck by how, well, human he looked.

You couldn’t dwell on his appearance for long; you needed entertainment for the evening and didn’t want to wait for him to change his mind. With the pencil in hand, you swiftly went to work on his minor makeover.

You were close. Dangerously close, Adam thought to himself. So close that he was almost pissed that his eyes were closed so he couldn’t get a good look down your shirt.

He could feel your soft breath on his face, the almost imperceptible noises you were making while concentrating intently on shaping his new look. He almost flinched when your hand gripped the side of his face gently, tilting it up slightly to give you a better angle to complete your work.

Your fingers tingled on his skin, silence filling the space in a way that was new to Adam; he usually reveled in sucking the air out of any room he was in, but he was now focused so keenly on the steadiness of your breathing and the looming presence of your body so, so close to his.

Fuck.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, and for the first time in his very long existence, Adam actually tried to hide his arousal from you. “Almost done,” you muttered, examining the canvas of his eyelids closely.

You couldn’t help but notice that even though he was fallen, Adam still retained rather…angelic features. Perfect skin, tousled brown hair, annoyingly long eyelashes. You tried to not gaze at him for too long, but with his eyes currently closed, you couldn’t help but stare.

“Ah, okay, open up,” you said, feeling a quiver arise in your throat. He blinked, bright gold eyes accentuated perfectly by the dark liner.

Satan help you. He looked hot.

You realized you were still leaning incredibly close to his face, and before you could stumble backwards, Adam flashed a mischievous smile. “Damn babe, I must look pretty good if you’re giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Shhhh,” he stood up, pressing his finger to your lips. Your attraction to him was quickly replaced with annoyance, even with him looking like a rockstar you might’ve had a crush on when you were still living.

You pushed his hand away, your stomach twisting. Leave it to Adam to ruin an actual good moment between the two of you.

“Are you actually trying to seduce me right now?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Not in the slightest,” you lied. He brushed past you, considering his reflection in your vanity mirror.

“Fuck, I do look good,” he mused, getting an eyeful of himself. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. His gaze flitted to you, studying your form. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious about how good this dick would look in that pretty little mouth of yours?

You crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to act disgusted at that mental picture. “Only in your dreams,” you muttered, hoping the heat traveling up your neck wasn’t visible. Adam stood up to face you again, his mouth curving into a wicked smile. “They don’t need to know,” he purred, his eyes flicking towards the door, referencing the other residents of the hotel. “It can be our little secret.”

His fingers brushed your waist delicately, and you felt your heartbeat quicken as he squeezed the side of your body. He looked hungry, possessive, the dark pigment around his eyes only enhancing the intensity of his glare.

You gulped. You had to come up with an excuse, and quick.

“Charlie’s expecting me,” you croaked, pulling away from his grasp. You cursed yourself for the ache you felt between your legs, “Something about more trust exercises—” you headed toward the door, but Adam grabbed your arm.

He didn’t seem annoyed that you were brushing off his advances; he knew that it was now just a matter of time.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he teased, his grip red hot against your skin, “But teach me how to do this fun little makeup on myself sometime, hm? I like seeing you all hot and bothered.”

You swung open your door, flashing him the finger as you slammed it behind you. It didn’t matter that you were leaving him in your room unattended; you knew you’d be seeing him there later anyways.

Something told you he was going to keep the makeup on until you returned.

------

thanks for reading! as always, like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed :)

[empty-movement]

sorry but please... post your akio plastic covered couch tweet here... the world needs to know...

Warning: pics of gross shit happening on the couches

I'll do you one better and include the STORY! So, I, Vanna (note: Yasha mostly does the Tumblr and I mostly do the Twitter,) was smoking enough weed to knock out a large horse or put a very tiny dent in my constant back and shoulder pain, as one does when when they're a middle-aged Registered Nurse in the year 2023. (I'm 39 but it's an old 39, lmao.)

Scrolling through Twitter, I stumble on a fanart of Suletta from Witch of Mercury sitting goofily on a white couch. Now I haven't seen this show yet, but the white couch....looked familiar, and I know the show is very much a descendent of Utena in terms of creative teams. For those that don't know, the series is written by Ichirō Ōkouchi, who also wrote the two Revolutionary Girl Utena novelizations...which if you didn't know about before, you know about now, and can read translated on our site here! (Warning: Touga and Miki uh, in the novels...)

Anyways, so I hop onto my own website and start downloading the images that will constitute receipts, before realizing 1. these images are all on multiple computers feet away from me, 2. the couch isn't an identical match, 3. that'd have been weird anyway, and most importantly, 4:

AKIO'S COUCHES DON'T LOOK RIGHT. OBSERVE:

The edges of the armrests have sloppier upholstery than the blanket I have covering my computer desk. I took the time to tuck seams at least. What is this??

Now it could absolutely be leather, I thought. It would absolutely track. But leather upholstery doesn't look like this. It doesn't wrinkle quite this way. It would have cleaner seams.

No. No that's too shiny for leather. So here I am, presented with this strangeness I'd never really considered in how Akio's couch is drawn, and having spent the last few months learning about my Italian-American family history, my chemically altered ass came to the only reasonable conclusion:

Akio Ohtori has plastic coverings on his white couches, like he's a depression era American in poverty.

Fuck yeah, I though, A HIT TWEET, there, at the end of all Tweeting things. (Yeah I'm working on that, stay tuned, lmao. I of all people know when to bail on stupid men with stupid power.) Because I am me, I framed it as semi serious by pulling a context to explain it out of my ass:

I was joking.

But the replies? They were not. And then I thought about it some more. And I've kept thinking about it. Do I seriously think Ikuhara and Co literally are intentionally drawing a plastic covered couch? Doesn't that feel, Vanna, like a bit of a stretch, even for Utena meta?

Listen to that CRONCH when Akio sits down in episode 31, before Anthy is seen by Nanami. Look, the buttons on the back rest don't quite fit, but the rest? Yeah it kinda does. I was high, but not wrong!?

Akio *does* surround himself with a bizarre hodgepodge of Americana as an aesthetic. The arm garters. The piping and cut of his cowboy-ass shirt. His American car. His mullet. His miniature fucking golf. Why not the plastic covered couch? It's a trope of American poverty that would absolutely have fallen neatly into the diet of American pop culture that influenced Ikuhara. (He makes references to E.T. and The Godfather and Suspiria and all kinds of things in his other work, Utena itself is a little less obvious with individual references but inherits HUGE amounts of vibes from the same content--Ikuhara and Co watched Lost Highway in theaters during the production of the Akio Arc and I will not be convinced otherwise.)

So yeah. That's the story, and that's the theory. Do I seriously believe it was deliberate? Maybe. Probably. Possibly. But it fits so well it's headcanon for me, and in the Utena fandom, pretty much all canon is kind of headcanon so enjoy this one.

What an asshole.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Hi, I just got done dealing with a 12 hour migraine and just found your fate posts, if you would be willing could you do, Gareth, Mordred, Atalante Alter, and serenity with a male S/O fluff? Thank you so much if you do this!

Your Wish Is My Command!

(Damn, that sounds like hell, glad you're getting better dude! Also sorry it took so long to get this to you, for some reason Atalante Alter and Serenity weren't coming along and eventually I had to cut them out which is infuriating because I've wanted to write for both of them for awhile.)

Wordcount: 1,172

Time to Write: 47 days

Warnings: Female pronouns for Mordred because gender gets fucky when the Fate series is involved.

Gareth

(Fun Fact: Gareth was the first lancer I ever pulled! Also why are there no Gifs of best lancer but so much awesome fanart?)

You opened the door to the home you and gareth shared, the toils of the day weighing heavily on your mind and body.

“It seems Gareth isn’t home yet.” You muttered while you took your shoes off before forcing yourself to trudge towards the bedroom.

Unfortunately your exhausted body decided that the couch would serve just as well if not better than your bed as you flopped onto the piece of furniture with all of the grace of a bull in a china shop.

You briefly noted that the pillows Gareth picked out to decorate the couch were quite comfy and soft before a death like sleep finally took you.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Gareth opened the door to the home she shared with you, a yawn already escaping her as she kicked off her shoes

“Hmm what should I make for dinner?” Gareth asked herself as she stretched her arm and back.

“Then again I don’t really feel like making anything right… now…” Gareth trailed off as she walked into the living room and saw your sleeping form on the couch.

“Takeout it is.” Gareth muttered to herself with a smile as she kneeled down to look at your sleeping face.

“I wonder if I kiss him if that’ll wake him up just like in those stories about Knights and princesses?” Gareth quietly mused to herself before muttering “I’d better not risk it. Afterall, it’s not everyday I get to do something like taking a nice quiet nap with him.”

Gareth quietly stood up and made her way to the room the two of you shared to change into something a bit more comfortable.

-=-=-=-=-=-

A comfortable weight laid upon your entire body while the sounds of soft snores did their best to lull you back to sleep with their ever enchanting melody, sadly allowing yourself to do that was out of the question because of the woman making the same song that tried to lull you back to your rest.

A mop of blonde and brown hair, a soft and happy face with a small amount of drool escaping her open mouth, her eye’s held closed by the embrace of sleep, her body pressed tightly into yours with a shirt that was a size or so too large covering her like a gown.

This was Gareth, not the night of the round table Gareth, but the young, excitable, woman Gareth, someone who enjoys cooking, someone who enjoys cheesy cartoons and comedy shows, someone who finds the world of love she has dived headfirst into with you at her side more exciting than anything her life from before could have ever offered.

And even if the entire world was at stake, she is someone who wouldn’t trade you for it.

Mordred Pendragon

Mordred Pendragon has been called a great many things.

Loud.

Rambunctious.

Chaotic.

Crazy.

Feral.

Bastard.

Monster.

Betrayer.

But not once has she been called what you dare to call her at least once every single day.

Cute.

And it infuriates her to no end.

No matter what she does to try and get you to call her something else, anything else, you always, always! Walk up to her and say with a smile “You really are cute Mo.”

And don’t get her started on that insufferable nickname that never fails to make her heart skip a beat, heat to rush to her cheeks, and her stomach to roil in a way that made her feel both extremely happy and extremely weird.

She has no Idea what was going on with you and how you were making her all weird, but her feelings on the matter could not be anymore paradoxical.

On one hand she wants you to treat her like everyone else does because that’s what she knows, it’s what she’s used to.

But on the other she wants you to praise her, to flatter her, to continue to call her cute, to continue to treat her in the way that no one else has treated her before.

She despises it and she loves it more than anything.

Then a certain day came.

There was nothing truly special about it, it was just a regular day, no holiday, no weird weather, no crazy phenomenon, just a regular day with a pretty high chance of rain all throughout the day.

And yet every time Mordred would ever look back on this day, it would be one of if not the day she called the best day of her life.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Mordred kicked a rock as she trekked to the destination where you called her to.

“Why the hell am I even listening to that bastard's request?” Mordred muttered to herself as she kicked another rock down the trail she was following.

This exact same sequence of events continued for the next thirty minutes.

Mordred would kick a rock.

Then she would complain about why she was listening to you or say that she was just going to leave you out to dry.

Then she would continue forward and repeat the previous steps as many times as it took to reach the destination you set.

A hill that overlooked the city and the forest equally.

Mordred had to begrudgingly admit that the view was beautiful, the lights of the city contrasted by the shadows of the forest added a rather fairytale-esque look to it all.

And yet despite the view her eyes were squarely locked on you where you were sitting on the blanket, a basket and a cooler next to you.

“Hey there Mo.” You greeted her despite not even being able to see her from where you were.

“How’d you know I was here?” Mordred asked, the familiar feeling that name you always called her caused creeping in.

“I’ll admit, the first few times it tried that it was either a raccoon or a bird.” You answered with a chuckle.

“Oh, wonderful, fucking wonderful! Now his chuckle is getting me all weird! Damn it!” Mordred cursed in her mind.

“So why’d ya call me up here?” Mordred asked you.

You patted the ground next to you and said “come, come, sit.”

“Why he hell would I- NO! BODY! NO! LISTEN TO ME ARGHFKNDKGNJGOJM” Mordred screamed as her body moved towards you against her mind’s wishes.

Mordred sat down, her face as red as clarent, if not more so.

“Here, I want you to try this.” You told Mordred as you pulled out a carton of chocolate covered strawberries from the cooler and handed it to her.

“Is that the only reason you called me up here?” Mordred asked.

“No, but it’s one of them.” You admitted with a shrug.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The picnic continued until night began to fall and Mordred finally decided it was time to do something about this damnable feeling you cause in her.

And if that meant sharing the last strawberry so be it!

-=-=-=-=-END-=-=-=-=-=-

Again sorry about only doing half of this, whenever I get the motivation to write something for Atalante Alter or Serenity I'll be sure to try and tag you.

[squircatlies]

Today is the day I unleash my Mr. Bonzo fanart upon this webbed site.

This post is relatively safe up until the cut.

Is the *tips fedora* meme over a decade old? Yes. Do I care? No, absolutely not.

~

Now this is where I recommend "getting off" this post to anyone bothered by graphic depictions of body horror, blood, violence, or Mr. Bonzo (monster, not mascot like above).

I know the first image is silly, but I cannot stress enough how serious I am when I say:

Proceed at your own risk.

Now that you have chosen to continue, I have arranged the images in order of least to most vile and disturbing (though that might be slightly subjective on my part).

Remember that you can click off this post at any time.

Final warning: split tongue Bonzo.

I tried channeling Julia Drawfee with the lineart a little bit. Didn't feel like shading that one, so it's a bit flat.

Where did I lose my colours? Plot twist: the first image in this post is actually the last I've made, so technically I gained the colours. I wanted it to have more of a cheery vibe, unlike the ones under the cut, which I wanted to be kinda dreary and I feel like adding too much colour can mess that up.

Alright, I'll address the tongue. Remember how his head splits in tmagp 12? Yeah, it's a nod to that and also I asked myself "how do I make his design worse than it already is?" and that's the only answer I could come up with. I debated adding stitches connesting the two halves of the tongue but couldn't figure out how, so you're welcome. It will be present in all the upcoming drawings as well.

~

The next one is bloody, but it's not that much worse than the previous one overall.

I was playing with filters after I was done with this piece, because I felt like it lacked something, but didn't know what. Really liked this one, I think it's some sort of a gradient map. It pixelised the image and adjusted the colours a bit, it also really made the blood pop out, though it covered up some of the details.

Why did he lose his hat? It's stupid and hard to draw.

You may have noticed the artstyle change a little, the previous images having neat lineart and little to no shading. That's because I am using different tools, sketchy and soft brushes, that allow me to experiment with lighting and textures more (plus the aforementioned filter altering the image even further).

~

Alright, I feel like this last image deserves a separate warning. It references episode 12 (spoiler ahead), specifically the moment before the bartender loses a hand, though it's not entirely accurate. It's rendered in more detail than any of the previous images, so keep that in mind before scrolling down.

Basically it's pov: Bonzo licks your hand.

I feel like I could've made his tongue bigger in this one, it seems kinda small compared to his mouth. I really like how the skin on his face ended up looking. It took a lot of work.

The spit makes it look weirdly sexual, doesn't it? Listen, that was not my intention, but I'm not erasing it. I set out to make the worst thing I could and, though not without cost, I have achieved it.

I tried splattering Bonzo in blood, but it wasn't really working for me and it covered up a lot of the detail I liked, so I just put it in the background.

The human hand is drawn from reference, which I found by googling "hand reaching out away from the viewer". And let me tell you: google is shit at looking for drawing references, but I figured it was just going to be a sketch to explore an idea, so I didn't bother trying to get a better one. And then I fixated on it for a couple hours, you know, like a normal person.

I literally (and I mean no exaggeration) dusted off my drawing tablet after a few months of no use to spend the entire weekend, after tmagp 12 came out, glued to the screen making those images, except for the b'onzo one, which I made this evening.

Just to clarify: I drew all of those by myself. No filthy AI image generation is allowed in this house. I am capable of committing far greater sins than an artificial intelligence ever will.

The only thing left here is to extend my sincere congratulations/condolences to whoever got this far. It's up to you to either think you're brave or realise that you're foolish for doing so, but be comforted by the fact that at least you didn't make this post, which I cannot say for myself.

[midnightstar-90]

Nothing Like The Present

(Not My Art. This belongs to @shuploc)

Miguel O'Hara x GN! Spider-Person! Reader

Taglist | Requests | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Summary: Miguel and his Spider-girlfriend or boyfriend (However you get down) taking a nice little jog around the neighborhood. A woman jogs past with her baby in its stroller, and Miguel can't help but admire his significant other admiring the baby, making plans, in his head, for the future.

Warnings: FLUFF, Soft! Miguel, Small Mentions of Sex (Nothing too crazy) Slight angst

A/N: Wow! So, I wrote this as soon as I found the inspiration from @shuploc's Miguel O'Hara Fanart just so it wouldn't leave me. You should really check them out. Anyways, it's short, but I promise it's very fluffy, Soft! Miguel fic.

Words: 2.8K Words

Getting Miguel O'Hara to leave the Spider Society, for just a few hours, was a challenge. You admired his dedication to wanting to save literal universes, but with that came stress. And when Miguel was stressed, you were stressed.

You walked into Miguel's office, ready to give him the status report that he had requested. But as soon as you opened the door, you felt a small buzz from your spidey senses. Not even a second later, a book came flying at your head, in which you caught it by the spine of the book.

"It's just me, Miguel," You said, continuing your walk up to the man. This obviously wasn't your first go around with a quick-tempered and annoyingly stressed Miguel. In fact, most of the spider people would ask you to be the one to take things to the man, as he seemed to always be like this.

As you approached the man, you noticed the screens surrounding him. Some screens showed clips of Peter Parker Varients doing different things, while others showed other individuals who just happened to become a spider person. But the closer you got to the man, the more you saw what he was really staring at.

One screen that stuck out the most from the others was the screen of you laying limp in an alleyway puddle. You glanced at it with a sad look before leaning over to turn off the screen.

"Hey, I-"

Miguel quickly turned around to face you with a mean glare. The look didn't last long before his eyes met yours. His eyebrows unfurrowed, and his lips shifted from an angry sneer to a soft frown. you look up at the man with a sad smile.

"I think you need a break," you said, sincerely.

Miguel had been watching all the spider verses, looking for any anomalies that may alter the multiverse, but every time he did that, he would always come across some variant of me dying. And every time, I had to force him away from it. He would watch the clip for hours, studying it, hoping to find some sort of loophole. But Miguel knew that he couldn't alter a canon event. It's what made it a canon event.

Miguel looked down at you and sighed. He shook his head as he said, "Y/N, you know I can't. What if another anomaly-"

"Appears?" You cut him off with a knowing tone. Miguel's frown is replaced with a glare, almost as if he were annoyed, which he most likely was. It was the same exact situation every time. He would get too absorbed in trying to find anomalies, and when you told him to take a step back, he would give you an excuse as to why taking a step back wasn't a good idea. But you knew the man better than he knew himself, so you knew the signs of a cranky Miguel.

"Lyla is perfectly capable of watching over the spider verse for a couple of hours. Come on. It's not like I'm telling you to give up on the spider society, I'm just telling you to take a break and relax. You're overworking yourself, my love."

Your hands grip the man's forearms as you give the man a pleading look. He looks away, attempting to not give in to your alluring tactics. But as soon as he goes to see if you've stopped, he's instantly trapped, forcing himself not to give it. He felt like a fly in a spiderweb, begging to get out before losing everything to the hungry spider.

"Fine," he sighed, giving in to your powerful gaze. You laugh, clapping your hands, like a kid who just got what they wanted, before dragging the man out of the office and out of the Spider Society.

You and Miguel left for your apartment, after telling Jessica to look after the Spider Society and the Spider people within it. Jessica was the only one that both you and Miguel trusted with something so sacred to the large, intimidating man.

As you opened the apartment door, Miguel stood behind you with a pout. His posture stood slightly hunched with his head facing the ceiling. With a loud groan, Miguel said, "Why are we here. I'm not even tired."

You rolled your eyes at Miguel's childish behavior before responding with, "We're not here to nap. I was thinking we get all that stress out with a bit of exercise. Maybe a run. And then maybe we can get lunch before coming back here."

Miguel whined once more, following you into the small apartment. The two of you stood in the living room, in front of the door, looking at each other. Miguel clearly had the looks of someone who didn't want to be here, but you didn't care.

Instead, you left the man in the living room, to get to your room. You walked over to your dresser, pulling out the top left drawer, revealing some clothes that Miguel had left at yours, over time. Quickly shutting the drawer, you walk back to the living room. You found Miguel just standing there, staring into space, and without warning, you chucked the clothes at the man, causing him to stumble, and almost drop them.

As soon as Miguel went to open his mouth, you were quick to cut him off. "No questions. Just put those on," You barked closing your bedroom door.

Miguel looked down at the clothes in his hand, catching a whiff of something strangely familiar. A sly smirk appeared on his face as he began to calmly approach your door. He slowly opened the door. His eyes came in contact with your shirtless figure. Your body was well toned from being a part of the spider society. You weren't as bulky as Miguel, but you could tell that the muscles in your upper body were very strong.

You feel Miguel's presence behind you, and you quickly turn around with a loud "Hey!", covering your upper body (This can go both ways, can't it?). Miguel let out a soft laugh, "Nothing I haven't seen before, mi corazón." You scoff making the man laugh harder.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Miguel's stare never left you, and neither did yours on him. He slowly approached you while lifting his sweatshirt up to his nose. He smelled it, closing his eyes as if he was smelling the most beautiful thing on earth. He let out a blissful sigh before opening his eyes once more. His eyes landed on your eyes, which shared a confused, weirded-out expression from watching the strange interaction in front of you.

The sly smirk was still on his face as he asked seductively, "Have you been wearing my clothes?" You look away from the man in front of you with blood rushing to your cheeks. Miguel saw the red tint, and smiled, knowing he got to you.

With his finger, he guided your head to face his once more. You wore a shy smile, as you hesitantly looked into his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed. I think you'd look adorable in my clothes." His voice was low, and suddenly you felt your knees start to buckle under you. Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest. His face was only centimeters away from yours, and it seemed like he was leaning closer to kiss you, but you were proven wrong when he pulled his face away from yours with a mischievous grin.

Miguel laughed, making you angrily glare at the man. You smacked his chest hard, mumbling a small, "You're such a tease," under your breath. "Just get ready," you order. Miguel does as you say, but not without giving you the occasional glance as you dressed away from him.

'I refuse to let anything happen to them,' Miguel thinks to himself, slipping on his running shorts. He watches you pull on a pair of your black jogger sweatpants, doing a slight bounce to help pull them around your waist. The joggers are baggy around your legs, but the waist area perfectly shows off your curves. Miguel just wanted to walk up behind you, so he could hold you and never let go. But he was quickly pulled out of his trans as you turned around, with everything already on.

You were now dressed in a heather grey thermal hoodie with neon mesh along the sleeve. You were looking down at your fitness band that you had gladly replaced your dimensional watch with. You looked up at Miguel, seeing that he was staring at you, and you gave him a smile. Miguel smiled back.

"It's a little breezy today. If you want to run shirtless, be my guess, but don't come crying when you catch a cold," You say smugly. Miguel scoffs, still carrying that smile that you loved to see before slipping on the hoodie that you gave him.

You grab his hand. "Come on. Let's go," You say, pulling the man out of your apartment.

Down the street from your apartment, there was a community park that everyone in your neighborhood loved to visit. It had something for everyone. Parks and water pads for the children, three different trails around the park, and even a small dog park that hosted both small and large dogs.

"This place is beautiful," Miguel spoke, almost speechless. His mouth opened, only slightly agape. He looked around at the park and marveled at the sight. "Life is much different when you extract yourself from those screens you surround yourself with."

Miguel looks down at you with a scoff. "You think you're so funny," he glares, making you laugh. Your smile beaming brighter than the sun. "Okay," he nods, looking away with a hurt frown.

Your smile flattens out into a straight line as you look at him with a heightened eyebrow. "Come on. Miguel O'Hara is hurt by a little joke?" You say in a teasing tone. Miguel doesn't move.

"Come on, baby. You know I was joking."

You hug Miguel, tightening your hold around his arms. You stay there for a few seconds, not getting any type of response from the larger man before pulling out of the hug. You look up at Miguel seeing the playful glint in his eyes as a smile slowly appears. "Race ya," Miguel shouted. Before you could even reply, Miguel darted off, leaving you confused.

By the time you realized what was happening, Miguel was already on one of the many trails surrounding the park. You let out a loud groan, calling his name as you run after him.

You eventually caught up with the man. Miguel turned to look at you as you ran beside him, slightly out of breath, and chuckled. “Glad you could make it,” he joked, matching his speed to yours.

You gave Miguel a fake laugh, flipping him off in the process. “I can't believe you left me,” you said, trying to focus on your breathing as you talked.

“You wanted me to get away from the spider society. Away from all those screens. It’s not my fault that you chose something I’m clearly better than you at,” he laughed.

You gave Miguel an “Oh, really?” look and said, “Okay, Mr. Big Man. Let’s race. First one to that pole, up there, wins. If you win, you can go back to your dark office and wait for an anomaly to appear, with no human interactions or interruptions. If I win, you have to stay here with me, all night,” you bet, extending the ‘L’ in “all”.

“Okay. You’re on,” Miguel agreed.

“On 3. 1… 2. 3,” You said quickly before running off, just as Miguel had done to you earlier. Miguel heard the sound of your laugh from where you left him. He laughed himself before chasing after you.

In all honesty, Miguel was enjoying himself. He didn't want to go back to the Spider Society, not at this current moment. He wanted to stay here and have fun for just a little longer. Just seeing the smile on your face as you two ran freely through a park made Miguel feel something that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Happiness.

The stress from the job of being Spiderman 2099 had left Miguel entirely as he sped up his movement, getting closer to you. You looked behind you, seeing Miguel catching up to you. A scream left your lips, causing the people around you to turn their heads toward you.

Your legs ran faster, hoping to get away from your boyfriend, but when you turned around, you realized that you were on the verge of running into a woman with a stroller. Your eyes went wide as you came to a screeching halt, almost tripping in the process.

The woman looked over at you confused. Your face was beaming red from all the running you had just experienced, and your heart was racing, leaving you with heavy breathing. The woman stopped walking, asking you if you were okay, to which you responded with, "No. No. I'm... good. I was just... racing my boyfriend. I was winning until... I accidentally almost bumped into you. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I was in the middle of the walkway. I should have known better, especially with this little one," the woman spoke, giving you a smile. You looked down at the baby in the stroller. It was a baby boy, and from the looks of it, he got most of his mother's features, which wasn't a bad thing. His mother was beautiful.

It made you wonder what it would be like if you and Miguel were to have a baby. Would they look like you or Miguel? Who's personality would they share? Would Miguel's obsession with the Spider Society, and keeping the universe safe, still be, or would he take more time to be a part of his family? Those and a hundred more questions ran through your head, all at once as you looked at the woman's baby.

Miguel saw the interaction between you and the woman. He saw you almost run into her, and he saw how you looked at the woman's baby. He's seen that look many times when Peter brought Mayday around, and that usually ended with you and him watching the Parker child.

Before, it made him sad that he couldn't give you what you wanted until his mission was complete. He couldn't risk losing you or the child that you both decided to have from something that he could have prevented. But being with you today made him realize that he was missing out on so much.

He realized that being spider people wasn't the only thing that made the two of you happy. There were plenty of things that Miguel was still learning, that made you happy. And now, he was fully prepared to give that to you. He was still going to fight hard to protect you, but spending time with you felt as if the today had awakened him to a bright future.

You and the woman finished up your conversation, sending each other quick goodbyes, before the woman started walking once more. She pushed the stroller to the side of the walkway, giving joggers or people moving quicker than her, space to go around her.

Miguel watched you as your head shifted from the woman to Miguel. You caught sight of the cheesy grin that he was wearing, replicating it, and moving closer to the man. Pulling yourself into the man, you let out a sigh and said, "Oh, I love babies."

Miguel laughed, adding a small "I know" as he held you in his arms.

"I hope one day we can start a family."

"Yeah? I could see a future with me, you, and a whole bunch of little spiders roaming around the place," Miguel spoke.

You looked up at the man, eyes beaming with happiness. "Really?" You asked him. He nodded, making your smile any bigger.

The two of you stayed in the hug for a few seconds before you removed your head from his chest, and his arms retracted from your waist. Giving your head a light scratch, your smile shifted to a frown. "I know you want to get back to the office. You a can go if you want. I'll probably head back to mine and take a shower and a nap before I go back."

Miguel's eyebrow lifted as he looked at you in confusion. "No," he shook his head. "I don't want to go back. I'll do anything you want to do, as long as I am with you," Miguel told the girl, as she looked up at him with admiring eyes.

"Okay," you beamed.

"Shall we head home, or would you like to finish our race?" You asked, earning a small "whatever you want."

"No. No. You definitely won that one, mi corazón."

Taglist:

[hepbaestus]

to be loved is to be changed

2,190 words | family fluff | no TW's apply | ao3 link

As you love, you change too. Ramón goes through that process of changing because of the love he's received since Pac became his Pai, so much so that his physical appearance is altered by it. This is Fit and Pac's reactions to that.

Accompanying fanart by Mooney and mini-comic by Shen

Fic underneath the read more

It had begun slowly, so much so that not even Ramón himself had noticed that something about his appearance had changed. It was only noticeable in particular light, more specifically when the sun would set and the golden rays of sunlight would light up the shit shack’s lower room in a warm gleaming light. It was only then when it could be seen that his hair was darker, but Fit didn’t take it in mind, thinking it as a trick of the light. It was a well known fact about Ramón that he had his dad’s brown curly hair, despite never having seen his dad with hair. But not even two weeks after Fit and Pac having gotten together, it had straightened out ever so slightly. Despite not initially wanting to dwell on it a lot, it did linger in the back of Fit's daily thoughts, leaving him questioning as to why now Ramón's appearance was changing.

The next thing to change was Ramón’s pupils, though this took a while to notice with him wearing his glasses and him being sequestered in his room as this was the change that caused the most pain, to a level akin of a migraine. He would have to avoid the Town of Fobo at all costs during this period, knowing that the loud sounds of the trains, machinery and hidden horses underneath the train tracks would agitate it more. From the average circle of a person’s pupil, Ramón’s had a slice cut out of his, similar to that of the Pac-Man logo that his pai Pac used to wear. It had been first thing in the morning when Fit had noticed this, grabbing a glass pane out of his backpack to use as a makeshift mirror for his baby boy to see himself. In shock that Ramón’s appearance had changed, he told him to go tend to the small farm and animals on the ground in the shit shack’s perimeter, to enjoy some fresh air and company of the animals that had missed him during his absence. Ramón gives Fit the stink eye before complying and he exhales deeply before calling Phil on his personal communicator.

“Hey old man, how’s the family? Chayanne still cooking up a storm?” Fit speaks, pacing the minimal space in the upper room of the shit shack, worry lacing his voice despite his attempts to hide it. He takes a moment to look through the window to gaze at his son, seeing him feeding the horses. Happy to see him finally free of the pain that had lasted an entire week.

“Hey Fit, we’re all good mate, what’s up? Do ya need something?” Phil’s tendency to string out the last syllables of certain words continuing even through a call. The sound of a light breeze faint in the background, making the wind chimes at Phil’s house chime their delicate sound.

“How did you deal with Tallulah’s sudden change in appearance?” Fit cuts straight to the point, seeking advice from one of his longest friends. A slight ruffling of crow wings and the sound of Phil sitting down on a surface with some force could be heard from the crow hybrid man.

“Ah… Is Ramón’s appearance changing to be more like Pac’s?” Fit’s hand reaches up to his face and slowly drags down as a clear smirk can be heard in Phil’s voice. Sighing, Fit makes a noise of confirmation before Phil continues.

“Well… Oh, wait a second mate, Tallulah wants to tell me something,” Fit nods, momentarily forgetting that this conversation is not in person, “alright I’m back, she was just showing me a fish that she had just caught.” Phil says as he returns to the call, having muted himself briefly. The faint sound of little pattering fades as Tallulah clearly leaves her papa to catch more fish.It had become a small hobby of the girl's as they lived on the other side of the island.

“Yeah? Tell her I’ll come round soon and we can catch some catfish together, I’ve heard that they’ve made their way over to that lake of yours.” Phil makes a snorting sound, knowing the trouble the catfish caused his long-time friend.

“So, what’s changed with Ramón’s appearance? Tallulah’s was only her hair, a purple beanie randomly showed up one morning and she’s completely abandoned the old red one.” Phil guides the conversation back to the matter at hand, wanting to know more.

“At first it was something small, just the colour of his hair, it became darker and less curly. Only noticeable when the sun shined on it so I thought nothing of it. Then he started to wake up in pain,” Fit paused, letting the other soak in the information, taking a breath himself before explaining, “his irises Phil. They changed fucking shape.”

“Huh? What do you mean they changed shape?” Phil squawked, having accepted his more bird-like features and mannerisms over the course of his time on the new side of the island. 

“I mean that they’re now the Pac-Man logo like Pac’s own irises.” Fit speaks quickly, his tone of voice raising and gesturing wildly with the arm not holding the phone, hoping that he’d not alerted Ramón at the bottom of the junkyard with how loud he was being but he wasn’t paying close attention.

“What?! Is Ramón okay? Does Chayanne need to pop over with some soup or something? I can get him to start one now.” Phil lists of things that he can do to aid his friend, multiple of the given options include sending over one of the kids to hang out with Ramón for the day.

“No, no, he’s all good now by the looks of things but it wasn’t great for a few days.” A sigh came from the other side of the phone; no one enjoyed it when any of the children on the island were ill or injured. If one child was ill, it was felt by all. Winter was not a fun time for the parents of the island, when several waves of different strains of the common cold would sweep through the islanders and their children.

“The reason I was calling was to seek some advice from the resident old man. You’re the only one who’s gone through this yet.” Fit tries to inject some humour into the deep conversation, knowing that the man on the other side of the phone knows him all too well and wouldn’t play off his worry like a joke.

“Just embrace it king, let him come to you if he has any worries. Nothing has truly changed about him, just altered slightly on the surface. He’s still your kid, Fit.” Phil imparts onto Fit, stating what he had already planned on doing.

“I know . I know that. I just hope that Pac is happy about it because I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t.” Such an earnest response from Fit was rare, he’d been trying to become more open with those closest to him since he had become a family man. It’d been an uphill struggle with embracing his new life on the island, but over time, he was adjusting to it quite well.

“He will be, king, he’s so gone on you and Ramón.” Phil states, knowing that the same notion is also requited on Pac’s side.

The sound of a kettle boiling and several egg timers going off halts the conversation, with Phil passing Fit a quick send off before the call abruptly ends. Fit sits on the balcony of the shit shack, feet dangling in between the fence gaps as he places his phone into his pocket and stares off at the surrounding landscape.

Disassociating for an unknown amount of time, Fit doesn’t realise that Ramón had been poking his face for several minutes, the sky having turned a dark grey signalling that rain was soon approaching.

“Ramón! How are you feeling? I know that this is a major development.” Fit spoke, being broken out of that empty state of mind. Ramón quickly signed, having become mute after everything that his late father Spreen had put him through, still reaping the aftereffects from the man that had left not even 50 days after entering the island.

“Can we go see Pai? I want to show him.” Ramón bounces on the spot, his excitement evident through his signing. Fit chuckles at this, having known that his kid would immediately want to see his other dad, to show him that he’s even more a part of the family now that his appearance had changed to look like him.

Fit ruffles Ramón's hair, the meathead having fallen off his head while he slept and he had not gone to replace it, “let me message him okay? I don't want to disturb him if he's busy.” Ramón joins him in sitting at the edge of the balcony, his little legs swinging gently over the ledge, as Fit grabs his communicator once more to open his private messages with Pac. 

“What are you up to?” Fit vocalises what he typed into his personal communicator, with Ramón dancing slightly where he sat before standing up again and climbing the ladder to the second floor, having gone to empty out his pockets, sharing the same habit as his father of not clearing out his pockets until they were almost bursting.

A small jingle came from Fit's pocket, alerting the two that Pac had responded. Ramón had returned fairly quickly, sitting down next to his dad once more. A small thump at Fit’s side shook Fit momentarily out of his concentration, Ramón rested his head on Fit’s body, showing a rare act of physical affection. Resting his arm over his son’s shoulders, Fit reads Pac’s text out loud.

“I’m gonna be decorating my house today and gather materials for my summer house near Philza’s haha.”

“Can we come over? Ramón has something he’d like to show you.” Fit vocalises Pac’s text and his response to his son, still cuddled into his side, enjoying his presence.

“Please do! I’m just sorting out my chests.” Fit nudges Ramón gently, not wanting him to fall asleep at his side and they glide down from the shit shack to Pac's house, it not being a far enough journey to justify the five gold coins when they could be used for something more important or for further travels. 

Fit knocks on the door before pressing the button and ushering Ramón in. They’re both greeted by various meowing cats, to which Fit shivers slightly. Shuffling could be heard below them; Pac sorting through his numerous chests, attempting to organise it in a way that made sense with the more important items at the forefront and lesser items further back. They make their way to the basement floor where Pac was.

“Olá filho! Bom dia Fit!” Pac speaks, still kneeling in front of chests, primarily focused on sorting out his storage system.

“Oi, Pac. We just wanted to stop by; Ramón here wanted to show you something.” Pac turns around, still kneeling and looks at Ramón, who has his head turned towards the floor, the fringe of his hair hanging down to cover his eyes.

“What is it? Nenê?” Pac stands up, striding over to where Ramón stands with his hands in front of his body, fiddling with the scarf around his neck. He kneels once more, so as to be on the same height as their son. Index finger guiding Ramón’s face up a little so that he could see his son’s eyes properly. It is then for the first time that he realises just how much his nenê’s eyes had changed.

“They’re like mine. When did this happen Fitch?” Pac asks quietly, not looking away from Ramón for even a second.

Standing off to the side, Fit smiles to himself. Finally feeling happy in himself. With the family that he has created. Pac’s head turns to face him, matching eyes to their son welling up with tears. He takes a few steps to stand just left to where his boys kneel and stand, “not too long back, he couldn’t leave the house because it hurt so much. It’s why I’ve not darkened your doorstep like I normally would do.”

Pac laughs wetly but not before lifting Ramón into his arms, standing to his true height, leaning closely into Fit’s embrace. He holds Ramón tight to his body as Fit himself raises an arm, similarly to what he had done earlier with Ramón, and rests it upon Pac’s shoulders. The family embrace as the sound of rain can be heard gently pitter-pattering against the windows of the ground floor of Pac’s house and a faint jovial song could be heard from a jukebox far away. They basked in each other’s warmth before abandoning the storage system and going to lay on Pac’s king size bed, all still in close proximity together.

It is there where they nap the rest of the day away, with the outside world’s noise falling into the background as their eyes droop heavily with drowsiness. 

[djpurple3]

i coloured my scoobert doo fanart! clearly i couldn't Quite commit to the artstyle but this was so so so fun. and i think Fred should have a mullet. Let Fred have a mullet.

i could ramble but i'll try not to <3 I dressed Shaggy like that bc of him being a gymnast? so he still likes free-moving clothing. I just. waves hand. Mystery Incorporated my beloveds

@leiasolo77 in case you wanted to see the finished thing! @merlybird500 i know it's not mc but i hope you dont mind

Image ID under the cut

[IMAGE ID: Fred, Daphe, Velma and Shaggy from Scooby Doo standing in a line up against a light grey background.

Fred has one hand on his hip. He is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a dark blue collar, orange cravat, and dark blue bell-bottom jeans. He also has big brown boots, and he has his hair in a short mullet. He is drawn as tall and fat. He is smiling at the viewer.

Daphne is wearing a light green scarf, pink cardigan with shoulder length sleeves, and a purple knee-length dress. The dress has light purple trim. She also wears pink tights, and light purple ankle boots. She has a light brown handbag, and she rests one hand on it. Her orange hair is held back with its usual light purple headband. She is smiling at the viewer.

Velma is shorter than the others. She wears her usual orange turtleneck jumper/sweater, but it has been altered to be slightly-too-long full-length sleeves. She wears her normal pleated red skirt, knee high orange socks and strappy red shoes. She wears glasses, has her dark brown hair in a bob with a fringe/bangs, and is looking down at her phone with a slight smile on her face. She is drawn as short and fat.

Shaggy stands a little hunched, looking left towards his friends with a smile on his face. He has short, scruffy brown hair and stubble. He's wearing his usual green t-shirt, but an olive green sweater unzipped overtop. He also wears grey activewear leggings, and chunky green sneakers. He is the tallest of the group, though hunched, he looks about the same height as Fred.

The artist's signature, a pale 'DJ' is drawn over each character's right shoulder.

/END ID]

[alex-a-fans]

BTTF Year-End Tag Game!

AAA THANK YOU @cheriboms AND @bttf-dork FOR TAGGING ME!!

This year:

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

Too many times to count...

Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

Yes! BTTF Playmobil advent calendar and an off-brand Funko pop Doc!

How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

Pepsi free? None. Normal Pepsi on the other hand.... Over 50 cans for sure.

What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

There were so many good ones, but if I had to choose... I choose 3!

Oh, How the World has Changed by @itsthemorph I just love the idea of Clara in 1985, even if it's only one chapter, I am sure the other parts will be great :)

June of Doom: let the Suffering Begin by @unknooooow. Now these ones are dark. They have become my Roman Empire, so I think about it once every few days. But again, I love angst, especially realistic. :)

Double Visions by @daryfromthefuture. While there were many good ones this one stuck out due to it having the talk of Citizen Brown (the not-so-silly doc). And it's also very touching and captures the friendship spirit greatly!

A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

AGAIN MANY GOOD ONES.

this one by @future-boi LITTLE MARTY LITTLE MARTY

this one by @maxintime Cause Browns my beloved <3

this one by @bttf-dork (do u have any idea how long it took for me to find it, I thought I imagined it) THE COLORS, THE SHAPES AAA.

This one by @cheriboms The silly, the goofy, the little Baby Emmett (I WILL EAT THE FANART)

Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

My time to shine :) /j

I am especially proud of June of Doom chapter 11 (Better known as Doc Has a Stroke literally). It took me two months to write, and it is still the longest one chapter I ever wrote (3k words). Also! I am afraid of hospitals and blood, so I have no idea how I wrote it. Also believe it or not, it was inspired by the animated series...

One more writing project I am proud of is Alteration. It is not because of how much I wrote, but how much I am still planning, and how many Ideas I have for it. I have every single detail planned :)

With art it's a bit more tricky. Since I am not THAT proud of any of them, but BTTF 2 end scene redraw is still one of my favs :)

How many times were you late for school this year?

At least three times, due to reasons outside of my control. But I hate being late.

Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

My Favourite Martian (1999) Where Lloyd plays an Alien. I watched it because of my silly alien doc au. And I had an amazing angst idea out of it (I wrote it for June of Doom)

That is about it...

Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

In the car. My parents are tired of me ranting about BTTF so Imagine me (not a singer) scream-singing Back In Time. :DDD

How many times did you fall down this year?

Honestly, either I didn't. Or I did too many times to count. Cause I don't remember

Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

No...

How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

Not many, maybe once.

If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

This one is the toughest.

It will either be "I repeat, Verne, this is a fool's errand." "Does that mean you're coming?" I always tagged along when I knew my friend was making a dumb decision.

Or “Why do we have to cut these things so damn close?”

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

To the dance, I even went as Marty McFly. (Even if it was 80' themed I did not win, they did not get the joke :(

Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

More art. Even more angsty fanfiction :)

I am tagging @unknooooow and I believe everyone else has been tagged. Maybe @jayisnotdrawing @bri-to-the-future @brinkle-brackle and @bentothefuturee @pine-killer55

Game by: @mjf-af

[burnpyygmalion]

rad book review time because last week i got the new taz gn early and eleventh hour is my favorite arc so i wanted to jot down a couple of my thoughts on the book

TUMBLR WONT LET ME HIDE THIS SO ‼️SPOILERS FOR THE GRAPHIC NOVEL AND PODCAST AHEAD‼️

one thing is WOW this one is like a whole 100 pages longer than crystal kingdom and petals to the metal… it makes sense tho considering we are entering the latter half of the story. the previously on page is super cute i love the artwork….

stuff i liked ….<3

first of all designs …. and visuals…. the gns always have really vibrant colors and this has some very nice warm color palates which i love….

i have my ummm gripes with some designs in the gns to say the least bur i actually really loved most in here they were super good. also i liked the thbs cowboy out fits that’s all i will say on the main 3’s designs (clenching fist) i loved cassidy istus and ren

new scene at the start i loved that a lot … i will gobble up any redrobe foreshadowing i can get

THEY ADDED THE JOHANN AND VOIDFISH PART YAAAY!!!! i wish he played his harp tho like in the podcast…

i feel like the way they moved things around to fit the format was rlly well done here on my first read i was like oh my god they cut out the whole lunar interlude but they didn’t!!! i love how they incorporated it in between the loops a lot!!!!!!

nailed this scene i think … very pretty page so i will put it here

i loved the 100+ chapter gag i like a lot of the added gags and the jokes that were kept in too

THE CHALICE SCENE!!!! very anticipated scene and even tho it’s kinda condensed i feel like it’s pretty good.., stolen century foreshadowing aswell :-)

BARRY ALERT LUP ALERT ‼️‼️‼️📢📢📢📢

THE END SCENES!!! extended krav scene and merle writing the letter to his kids wjen the stars disappear and magnus ohhhhhffgfg…. so excited for suffering game ^_^

stuff i did not like….<\3

no fanart gallery this book?? maybe it has something to do with the controversy surrounding the payment of the artists which sucks a lot if so

no luca and redmond… they are cut entirely which makes me sad … i can understand this tho since they probably needed to cut something out to condense the plot a bit.. i do like that ren robs the bank tho even if it sacrifices the magic class lie taako does in the show

the diary of sheriff issak scene did not hit for me like it did in the podcast ok………..it’s alright but they changed the diary entry soooo much and didn’t flow as well imo…. i am not a fan of how much they slightly/completely alter a lot of lines from the show randomly but idk maybe they did it for a reason shrug

more nitpicky than anything: i love the chalice scene and the lup foreshadowing made me crazy but i wish the memory montage displayed taakos childhood of moving from place to place/not having a stable home better as it’s pretty important to his character

also nitpicky but i love the magnus redrobe scene a lot still BUT i wish they kept the part where he looks at it after june gave it to him and we don’t see it til later… idk why it’s changed but i think it would’ve been cool to see his silent reaction before we get to see what’s on the page…

ok that’s all for now…. these are just my initial thoughts after 2 reads (last monday and today) so my opinions could change but overall this one was probably a 8.5/10 best tazgn so far for me cant wait for the suffering game 🕺🕺🕺🕺

[miss-wanna-draw96]

Cut Down the Alter goofy goobers

@missr3n3 expect a lot of fanart from me. I love your AU and seeing them get a good ending makes me happy. I seriously want to hug all of them cause they deserve hugs after all they've been through. Also, thank you for writing CDTA, it has definitely grew and deserves to be noticed by others

Art under cut:

I have chibi-fied your creations. Tis the two silly goobers Adam and Jonah

I'm gonna be honest, drawing them gives me a sense of comfort?? Idk but I find them cool

[minervadashwood]

Scars and Stitches, Ch. 2 Scars and Stitches

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x PlusSize Reader (she/her)

Era: Season 1-Season 4, Longfic that follows the series with a few alterations.

Summary: Long since recovered from childhood abuse and neglect, you, a librarian, are sheltering in place with your best friend, Morgan Jones, when you meet Rick Grimes. You go with Rick to Atlanta. After everything in the city goes to shit, you are determined to help Daryl rescue his brother, and in doing so you find a kindred spirit who makes your new life bearable. Lots of fluff, UST, and eventually RST.

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of past abuse, Shane Walsh being awful, and mentions of drug addiction.

Reader Info: Aside from being plus size, the reader's appearance is totally left to your imagination. However, she does have a backstory to explain her unique skill set and affinity for redneck bad boys.

Themes: found family, demisexuality, self acceptance, the power of hugs, romance, love, and happy endings.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Series Navigation: AO3 | FFN | One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

(I am also looking to commission some fanart for this story, so if you or anyone you know is interested, just DM me!)

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Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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Summary: Things in Atlanta do not go as you hoped. Warnings:  Typical season 1 violence and racism

Scars and stitches always fade/ and only strengthen me. – Guster

In Atlanta, Rick didn’t look to you for any help until it was time to cut up the two walkers. You managed to carve your way through the bodies, even though you joined Glenn a few times in barfing up your lunch.

Later, if anyone on that truck to the quarry camp realized you were crying, they didn’t say so.  You cried for Merle and yourself, for Morgan and Duane, for your little brother and the world in general.  Leaving Morgan had been a mistake that you couldn’t take back.  Now, you were relying on the protection of strangers with no clue how to take care of yourself in this new world order.

After a while, the crying stopped, and you were left numb and tired, dreading the moment when Rick would have to tell Merle’s brother what happened.

==

Daryl saw red. The rage and pain made him blind and deaf to anything else. 

Not Merle. That sorry, sad fuck who raised him. The only person in the world who gave a shit, even if it was only half the time.

And they left him on the roof to die.

His knife was out, swinging wildly at anyone who got too near. Even when someone body slammed him, causing Daryl to lose his breath, it was all clouded by the crushing emptiness of a world without his brother. Something was in his eyes, blood or sweat, he didn’t know, and then he was in a chokehold, breathless and panicked. He forced himself to hone on the physical sensations: the bruising pressure of Shane’s hold on him, the solid feel of the earth under him, the horrified shouts of the women and children.

“You best let me go!”

“Not until you calm down, Daryl.”

He hated Shane and the cop’s need to be right every second of the goddamed day.

“You’re scaring the whole camp. Just take a few deep breaths and let’s talk this out.”

Shane could fuck himself.

Despite his fury, Daryl took one deep breath then another, scowling at everyone gawking back at him. The kids hiding behind their mother’s legs, the new guy holding up pacifying hands, and you, the new girl, bloodied hand over your chest as you cried silently.

Fuck.

He willed himself to relax. Shane released him, and Deputy Do-good, Rick, reached out to help Daryl off the ground.

From the steps of the camper Lori was saying Rick would go back. And then all those fuckers who left Merle for walker bait started lining up to be in the goddamn rescue party.

Swiping at wetness on his brow and cheeks, Daryl swung his crossbow over his shoulder, and took his knife back from Rick. “We’re wastin’ daylight. Let’s go.”

Rick shook his head and said, “Now Daryl, it’s too late to go back today. We need to wait until tomorrow, give the herd time to disperse and head out there when we have plenty of daylight to see what we’re doing.”

Daryl was on the verge of losing it again, but he put his knife away and stared at the ground, nodding.

“Okay, okay. Good,” Rick said, relieved. “Go see Morgan about your forehead. She’s the other new person in the group. Then we’ll figure out just how to get to that roof tomorrow and bring Merle back.”

Daryl glanced at you, but just as quickly looked back at the ground, not wanting to meet your eyes or anyone else’s. Instead, he studied his hands, where blood was smeared from wiping at his forehead.

==

Later, you were sitting at a picnic table, dazed by all the violence that had happened, both in Atlanta and the camp, when a thin woman with very short hair approached you.

“Hi,” she said.  “I’m Carol.”

It took you a moment to gather your wits. “Morgan. Well, that’s my last name.”

“Do you go by that or something else?”

You shrugged, indifferent, but told her your first name all the same. You didn’t mind them using your last name, but things could become confusing when Morgan and Duane got there in a few days.

While you ruminated, Carol had rallied a few of the other women to the cause of getting you settled in.  Jacqui found you a change of clothes, and someone else found you a spare sleeping bag and pillow. Andrea and Amy took you to a private swimming hole to wash up. Even Lori gave you an extra pair of socks.

It was unnerving having everyone fuss over you, but it wasn’t before long you realized why they were so attentive.

One child had poison ivy, another mosquito bites.  There was a small girl who wouldn’t quit sucking her thumb, and her overly worried mother insisted you do something about it. An older gentleman had a hangnail and heartburn.

Initially you were overwhelmed.  But these people had just welcomed you as one of their own; you tried to help them as best you could.

After about an hour, the bombardment ended, but you still had one more patient to see.

It was time to meet Merle’s brother. 

==

Like Merle, Daryl reminded you of the people you grew up with: the ragged flannel, the scent of pine and cigarettes, the grudge against a world they were convinced had it out for them. 

You approached his tent slowly, carrying a red backpack the camp had collaboratively filled with first aid supplies and a random assortment of OTC pill bottles. 

“Daryl?” you called.  

A moment later, he opened the tent just enough to poke his head out.

“What?”

You told him your name and held up the backpack as explanation. “Rick wanted me to look you over.  That okay?”

He stared for a long moment, unnerving you.

“You got that doctor-patient confidentiality?” he asked, squinting at you.

“Not a doctor, but not a blabbermouth, either.”

After a few silent seconds, Daryl’s head disappeared, and he unzipped the door completely.

Taking that as a clear, if reticent, invitation, you stepped in. Despite his glowering, you were curious what had him so secretive.

You were short enough—or the tent was tall enough—for you to stand up straight. That wasn’t the case with Daryl, however, and he stood, stoop-shouldered, watching you.

Amidst that greasy hair and unkempt beard were the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

Trying not to stare, you said, “Show me wear it hurts?”

Daryl scoffed at you, then replied, “’s not what Rick told you about. It’s my back.  But I ain’t lettin’ you look ‘less you promise you won’t say nothin.’”

Mild panic set in. “Was it a walker?”

“No,” he said. “It was Merle.”

Relieved, you nodded in understanding. It was normal where you came from.  Hell, you and your little brother’d had a few fistfights of your own. He usually won, though.

“Promise I won’t say anything,” you said.  “But it might be better for you to kneel down. You’re a bit taller than me.”

He nodded, and you zipped the tent closed to give him some privacy. When you turned around, Daryl was kneeling in the center of the tent, and you noticed a locked tackle box off to the side. You tucked that knowledge away for later.

Opting not to take his shirt all the way off, Daryl just lifted it overhead while keeping the sleeves on.

You saw that his back was littered with scars that had obviously been inflicted to cause pain.  However, the scars were old, long since healed over. They should have been stitched up but clearly never were.  Someone had hurt him badly, and he never got proper care for the resulting injuries.  Refusing to let yourself think any more about what was clearly far in the past, you focused on the more recent wound: a series of lacerations in the shape of brass knuckles. By the look of the deep cuts, this had happened in the last few days.

Remembering your promise, you suppressed all the other questions you had and simply asked, “You okay if I put in some stitches?”

Daryl took a moment before answering, “Alright.”

“It’ll hurt a bit,” you warned, but you got the sense a few needle pricks were nothing to Daryl Dixon.

You went to work on the wound. Stitches were a generous word for what you managed with needle and thread, but he said nothing about the pain as you worked.

When you finished stitching and covered the stitches with a bandage, Daryl put his shirt back on. You handed him a few ibuprofen, and he downed them dry.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Anytime,” you said and left the tent, images of clear blue eyes dancing in your mind.

==

Just before sunset, you and Rick walked up a small rise to try to contact Morgan.  You thought for sure your friend would answer—in fact the hope of hearing his voice had kept you sane throughout the day.  

But as many times as Rick tried, there was never another voice on the walkie-talkie.

“Sorry about today,” Rick said, turning off the radio and helping you up from the ground.  “Didn’t expect the day to go like it did.  I was hoping for something better.”

You nodded, unable to suppress the memories of all the walkers’ mouths and teeth that had gotten too close to you.  “Me too, but you had no way of knowing.

Neither of us did.”

The two of you began the walk back to camp.

Rick said, “I found my family, but that doesn’t mean I won’t still look after you.  I brought you out here, so I’m responsible for what happens to you.”

“Rick,” you said, nearly overwhelmed by his kindness. “You don’t owe me anything. You have your family to look after now.”

He shook his head.  “You and Morgan took me in, so I do owe you.  But this isn’t about who owes who what. This is about looking out for each other. This is about holding on to what’s good and right in a world that’s gone bad.”

What Rick said gave you a measure of hope. “I think I understand what you’re saying,” you told him.

“I’m sure you’ll find your own place here. If it’s not helping the other women or looking after our bumps and bruises, you’ll figure it out.” 

By then you were back to camp, and with a comforting squeeze on your shoulder, Rick went to see his family. 

Everyone here seemed to have their little niche, and despite the medical concerns you’d tended to that day, you were no match for a serious injury like a gunshot or any other surgical emergency. You just had to hope there was truth to what Rick said, even if you had trouble believing it about yourself.

You looked around the camp, trying to understand this new community you’d been dropped into, when your gaze settled on the small fire flickering almost fifty yards away. Where Daryl sat. Alone.  

Merle.  

How could you have forgotten about Merle?

___

Thanks for reading! -min

Next Chapter

[arliedraws]

Hi! It's the same wizarding fashion anon as before here with more musings!

I absolutely LOVE that Elsa concept?? I can get why they wouldn't go for it in the movie but it's absolutely STUNNING! Makes me think that maybe there are robes that, when you move in a certain way or with certain lighting, look like it's made out of a different material/is made out of an animal? Maybe a robe with feather print looks like it has actual feathers on it or a robe with actual feathers looks like it has live birds whenever you move? (does this make sense at all??)

There's also the fact that demiguises, which can turn invisible, are sought after for their fur to turn it into invisibility cloaks. What other magical animals are there that could be used in such a way? I'm not really up to date on what creatures exist but an animal that is always on fire give you the ability to make robes that are just.. on fire? all the time? without burning you? I hope there is a wizarding equivalent of the met gala

ALSO i know exactly which fanart you're talking about and you're so right! The hogwarts uniform is Not Cute. I think they should allow students to sew on patches or embroider it themselves though, that could be fun! I could see students trying to get away with magically altering their uniforms (once they learn the charms for it) and see how far they can change the cut of their robes/what shade of grey they can make them until the professors get upset with them

I also often see the notion of 'purebloods would dress conservatively' but 'conservative' is a cultural thing. It means different things in different cultures. Especially if it's purebloods-that-look-down-on-muggles I don't think those would dress according to our view of conservative british people. What they Would dress like? no clue tbh. Maybe the exact opposite of muggles? But that would require them to keep up with muggle fashion which i don't think they would do?

This, again, turned out longer than i thought it would.. whoops!

Hope you have/had a great day btw!

Good thoughts all around, anon!!!

[fandomwave]

Hey tumblr user @jesibeii, I couldn't heeeeelp but notice we miiiight have gotten off on the wrong foot concerning fandom and interaction and I just, you know, I was turning over what you said in my head for a while and I realized I wanted to come over and offer some brownies

I realized that I was being what the kids call "An Asshole" in my tags but I also wanted to at least provide some context on the matter, since you know when the poll came onto lawn I wasn't really in the frame of mind to give an entire dissertation on interactivity and contribution on the silly and cursed land that is fandom TM.

Sooo if you'll allow me, and honestly if you don't that's fine too, you can take the brownies and run. I just wanted to earnestly and kindly reach across the isle and examine some concepts.

Just know that in the end of this entire pop up ted talk I'm juggling in my arms with the plate of brownies, that I agree with you:

Fandom has no room for cops. You get to enjoy and do whatever the fuck you want in it. I did not, and do not ever want that to change. Even if the landscape becomes something I don't recognize.

This is gonna get uh, long in the tooth, so I'm just gonna imagine you have one of those lovely porch swings with some bright yellow pillows.

OK LETS GO:

Comfy? Good good ok cool so I'm gonna use your fandom as a springboard because WHOO BOY did BNHA used to be my Jam for a while!

My favorite character is Shinso by the way! I was up to the Chisaki arc in the anime but eventually dropped off, and I was up to chapter uuuh, 350-ish in the manga??? It gets a little blurry from my memory and I'll admit I got a little Tired towards the end before I dropped off there too.

So I think we're on the same page when it comes to passive interaction when it comes to fan-made art! You don't have to have even a remote understanding of the original context to want to enjoy the transformative works that people make

Anyways I wanted to at least start off saying that I do agree in that you don't have to Go Here to enjoy the things fandom creates.

I myself had a laughable amount of Omori fanart before I ever realized there was a game.

And I think I would have been pretty irritated if someone told me that I couldn't look at it or enjoy it for it's composition or color use or emotional resonance because I hadn't sat down to play the game.

You're right, I would be irked as fuck if I went to a public library to read The Chronicles of Narnia and someone griped at me the whole time that I wasn't reading the Bibble

Here's where I get a little confused, and again, PLEASE keep in mind, it is a silly place here, fandom, and my confusion is not condemnation.

Lets say, again using BNHA as the core example here, that I found a fic for Denki/Deku. The person who wrote it made Denki into this really complex and nuanced character. In the fic they mentioned that him and his father had a falling out, mostly because his father was worried that with a kid like him, and his poor grades, he would never be able to cut it at UA.

Deku and him bond over the fact that both of their parents worry for the right reasons about their attendance at UA, and there's even a bit of a grit between the two of them because Denki can't match up to Deku's raw talent, even if he keeps hurting himself over and over for the lack of control, that he wants to prove he can be just as useful, and they have to learn how to navigate that together. Maybe Denki comes to defend Deku more when his quirk hurts him and understands where that comes from given the fact his own causes his brain to short after he pushes himself too hard.

Man there's an ENTIRE chapter dedicated to Denki showing off his lightning points and how he can throw his electricity even further, and Deku gets inspired by the concept, maybe altering his costume altogether to help launch rebar polls to launch off of to move faster in combat!

And I'm enthralled by this, I think that Denki is the best character and I'm so thrilled to get to know this character in canon!

Only to find out he has like, maybe 2 major arcs and is kind of just a gag character.

Or, another example, because lets be real, a large portion of folk characterize Bakugo as nothing more than a mindless abuser. If I only read the most popular fic, I might come to hate this dude.

People mischaracterize Deku all the time as uwu wubby soft boy, and I might be really turned away and think the whole series really IS a waste of time if these characters are as dumb as they are..

To me anyways, fandom is an extrapolation of the source. Without the source, there is no fandom.

And because it's an extrapolation, it's like a photocopy. Every photocopy has some loss from the original. Artistic Telephone if you will. All fandom art that is made and shared is usually transformative in some way from the original which is fantastic!

I think that's why fandom is as weird and silly and stupid as it is, it by it's very nature really can't be taken seriously because it's all just interpretation and speculation and extrapolation on something none of us even own.

I ADORE the idea of someone giving Denki a full fucking realized character in comparison to the original, and hell if I like the work well enough I might magpie some ideas and add it to my own works!

So there is where my example, inflammatory as it was, comes in:

Since fanart and fanfic is an extrapolation of root work, how would someone know if the characterization of someone, or something, be accurate if they've never engaged with the original.

If someone reads a fic (the first extrapolation) where Bakugo is a huge asshole.

Then writes their own fic (the second extrapolation) where Bakugo is a whole new level of monster..

But doesn't know that Bakugo is more.. of an emotionally constipated edge lord..

I think that's where my disconnect and confusion comes from is the idea of loving a work and not having any sort of compass for the 'They Would Not Fucking Say That' radar.

I'm listening to someone's dissertation only to learn in the end that they've never studied the topic.

And I mean, lets be real here, if someone wrote a whole academic essay and I couldn't tell OP never cracked open the source material than like, GOOD ON THEM for logical assumptions and characterization! Insane work that they could interoperate flawlessly from someone else's interpretation.

And to this end, as with all things, someone could name Denki's fucking bloodtype from memory, know the manga by heart and which studio animated specific scenes from the anime, and still turn him into the worst reduction of his tropes in their works. Don't get me wrong knowing the source material doesn't automatically make you a better creator than those who don't

I think the only thing it DOES do is make you a more informed one.

Maybe this also comes from me being uh, how you say, ancient. When women in fic were reduced down to their worst elements. Usually there to be homophobic to whatever slash ship was popular at the time, or just generally horrible. Like imagine if someone did Uraraka dirty in a fic and without any context, any root to check the notes against, you just thought she was Like That.

Not to say they aren't even now. Trust me I have Seen Some Shiiit. But it used to be the default, and canon was a good way to check is that was accurate or not (spoilers it usually wasn't)

So why this big annoying essay? I dunno man, fandom is weird and silly and shouldn't be taken seriously but I also think it's fun to understand people and also get further context in the ways we see things. I wanted to explain myself in a way that wasn't some one liner reddit quip, and I genuinely DID feel really bad making you feel something intense enough to leave the tags, and in all honestly they weren't even that mean aha. If this weird little subculture is gonna survive the corporatization of it's space, the old guard and new guard and everyone in between should help to understand one another as best we can :3

In the end, you're still right.

I should be on my own lawn right now, being unbothered and minding my own business. I hope you don't feel like you're being put on the defense or that I'm trying to be antagonistic here.

This is, an actually earnest means to come across the fence and at least kinda chat about perspectives, how I think active fandom engagement can be skewed without core context, and how passive fandom engagement doesn't require an SAT test on core context. And how yeah, at the end of the day it doesn't matter because fandom is a silly place.

It's just silly. No one should be taking it seriously. If I read a fic from someone who took the worst read on a character they've never engaged with on it's source, but it brought them the most amount of joy in the world to write it, who am I to stop them or to care.

I can find it as confusing as I want, it doesn't matter.

Oh shit I think your sprinklers are coming on, yeah, oh fuck all the flowcharts I brought are just.. getting drenched. You know you can keep the plate btw, I don't really wanna wash it.

Ok I gotta grab these papers before they melt all over lawn

BTW Idk if you drew it or not but ur icon is very cute!

OK BYE

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Some ansty angst today

Yesterday, @spirtworld wanted for me to unleash some raw Floyd angst into the wild and see how everything will go down... So here we go :3

This is one of my favorite headcannon-theories that will play as a base in here, even if I believe it was debunked to not be real... But... Lemme have it... Because yes... It was inspired by some pretty fanart on pinterest, but I lost the links ;-;

I wrote this on discord... Explaining it in depth and how dark it could get...

But we aren't getting into the dark part for now :3

We will have a tiny weny oneshot of how everything played out after I explain everything.

Also... This might be hints about my pttw comic... So if you wanna figure it out... Go ahead and read it...

But if you don't want some slight spoiler hints... I recommend you shouldn't read it...

That was a warning!

Under the cut I'll explain it. (copy pasted from my notes and edited accordingly)

Anyway!

I headcannon heavily that Floyd is actually really aware of his public image. Like he is aware people fear him, he is aware other students would rather dig their own graves than hang out with him... He has that scary aura around him.

And that is a thing Floyd hates, because this is exactly a trait of the Diasomnia students... He tries his best to be playful and snuggle himself into social circles, but he does not really succeed so easy, which makes his moods to alter more, yet Floyd sees how Jade and Azul manage so well to blend in, making him a bit envious.

Because they were since start in Octavinelle (here's where the theory comes :3)

My theory is this: Floyd was sorted at first in Diasomnia (I say it because he really fits the vibe of scary, but actually a quirky guy)

But imagine how the world would crash onto him once he hears that. That Azul, his dear friend that even changed and grew before Floyd's own eyes and Jade, his own twin, his half, his family, the 2 most precious of persons Floyd ever had in his life... To be separated from him in a different dorm. That's how he made that commotion at the sorting ceremony, getting on Riddle's nerves and having his first taste of the 'off with your head'.

He started to feel conscious of his appearance, of his public image since that day. He didn't want to talk with silver(his roimmate) at all. He didn't want to get out of bed, he didn't want to eat, he didn't even want to touch his magic pen. He would even resort to running away and breaking into Octavinelle just to be with Jade and Azul.

Just to try and feel like he belongs somewhere, where he is actually loved for who he is.

Azul wasn't ignoring any of this. He was really concerned. And while Jade was aiding to his brother's pitiful state, Azul was trying his best, skimming through everything and putting all of his efforts into finding something that would priquire Malleus's interest enough, so he could trade it for his approval of moving Floyd into Octavinelle.

Azul tricked his way and made his reputation of being 'shady' just to become Dormhead and have the authority necessary to get Crowley and convince Malleus to let Floyd transfer to Octavinelle.

All, of course in the best of discrecy.

Of course this incident was hidden and most of the students remember only that Floyd caused a stirr at the ceremony just because he angered Riddle. No one actually paid mind to which dorm Floyd was sorted.

But Floyd couldn't shake that feeling that he doesn't belomg in there... He hates that he feels like he doesn't fit.

He hates himself for not making enough efforts to fit.

And sometimes, when emotions drive him off, his magic pen will turn a bright green instead of the usual white gem, typical Octavinelle, which would scare him, thinking that he'll have to go back in Diasomnia.

Jade forgot about the incident and decided that it was better if it wasn't brought anymore. Azul was keeping the contract(which wasn't out of his um) with Malleus and Crowley about the transfer, buried deep in the safe of his office.

Now imagine chapter 3... But Leona and Ruggie get their hands into that transfer contract too. And by destroying it, they force Floyd to go back to Diasomnia unknowingly.

Now let's see the little oneshot:

~~~~~~

Blot

Chaos

A mess everywhere you would look. That's how one would describe the scene left behind Azul's overBlot. One would expect that the Dormhead of Octavinelle wouldn't spiral in such a ravenous crying fit for just a contracts. And even after he was brought back to normal, Azul scrambled, under everyone's judging glares, to the pile of golden sand, grabbing it and digging through it.

He was desperate. There must be in there! There must be at least a little intact piece he could use magic to restore it. No? It has to be!

"Azul! Azul! Snap out of it! Look at me..." Jade was the first one who grabbed his friend by the shoulders, shaking him to gain his attention. Floyd was right next to Azul, getting a more firmer grip onto him than his twin, to have Azul in a somewhat reassurance, which didn't work.

"I-it's gone... It's destroyed... We lost it... We can't retrieve it... It's gone!" Azul started to mumble as his inky tears were rolling over his cheeks, the boy leaning onto Floyd as he was crying silently, mumbling in between heavy breaths about 'the lost object'.

Jade looked at the pile of sand, then at Floyd. At the poor clueless Floyd. Eyes landed onto his twin's breast pocket before teeth grittered with anger.

Getting up in a flash, Jade grabbed Leona by the neck. "Do you even realise what you've done?! ANSWER ME!" the boy screamed, which was a shock for everyone. Jade usually was the more collected one, yet right now, the eel was seconds away from just leaving Leona headless for real.

"Jade! Stop it! What has even gotten into ya?!" Floyd had to leave Azul's side to stop his brother as the others joined in separating the 2. Jade was struggling under the other's grip, trying to get his hand onto Leona, with a deep rage bubbling under his skin.

"oh... Did I come at the wrong time?" a voice piped in.

Azul froze in place as well as Jade, both of them eyeing Lilia with sheer fear. This was really happening. "What's the silence for? I thought you would be more happy to see me..." Lilia mumbled. "What's with you in here? The lounge's closed..." Floyd mused, still clueless.

"Oh... Dear... You don't know? I came to pick you up..."

Words that sunk into Floyd's mind like an arrow. His stomach was burying itself and his heart was squeezed in fear at those words coming from Lilia's mouth. "This is a joke... No? Jade? Azul? It's a joke... Right? It's a bad joke, guys..." Floyd said with a strained smile.

Yet Azul only looked down as well s Jade. "I am... So sorry, Floyd... I did everything I could..." Azul mumbled through tears. Jade only was silent as he made a small motion to his breast pocket, where his magic pen was. Floyd followed with his hand the said gazes that were targeted to his own pocket, fearfully touching his pen and getting it out. Tears were building in his eyes as Floyd lowered his own gaze onto the said pen.

The gem was green... A bright green Floyd oh so feared.

"No... Nonono... This can't be... You promised me... You told me we will be forever together... Right?" The boy said as tears stained his cheeks, falling on the ground. The silence though, was enough to shatter Floyd's heart.

"Floyd... I-" "No... You promised me, Jade! WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME?!" Floyd screamed as he pushed away his twin's attempt at a hug, then throwing his own pen on the ground. "I'm sick of this pity! Just leave me alone! All of you!" The boy declared as he turned onto his heel and ran away from Octavinelle.

"Vangrouge... Please... There must be a way to keep him..." Azul begged, on his knees, to the said Fae. "I am afraid the terms of the contract were all broken... I cannot do anything about it..." Lilia mused with a sigh. Jade only hugged Azul, caressing gently the head of the other to attempt at calming down the crying male. "Everyone... I advise you to get out immediately... Octavinelle will no longer welcome guests from other dorms for the rest of the day." The vice mused as he shooed away everyone. Lilia though, stood at the same spot.

Exhaling, the Fae crossed his arms. "It's pitiful from you... Such a sight..." "You have no words in this..." Jade snarled back. "You will have to embrace it... For his own good..." Lilia mused. Azul only wiped his tears with a trembling arm as he looked at Jade.

"He will have to accept it... Weather Floyd likes it or not..."

~~~~~~~~~

That's it for today :D

*hands tissues*

And here for y'all :3

[arctimon]

What If...? (Big Hero 6 Edition)

So the next Marvel series set to release is What If...?, a series of nine episodes that will focus on alternate events and timelines that occur within the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  The series, based off of the comic series of the same name, will premiere on August 11th, running straight through October 6th. The show was suppose to have ten episodes in both Season 1 and 2 (which is already being worked on), but producer Brad Winderbaum mentions in an interview that they had to push an episode back because of, you guessed it, the pandemic:

"We had to push an episode into Season 2. It was just, honestly, like everything else, that was a COVID impact," Winderbaum told Collider. "There was an episode that just wouldn't hit the completion date, but luckily we do get to see it in the second season of the show."

Judging by both the poster and the trailer, we know of a few scenarios: Peggy Carter becoming Captain America, an alternate Avengers lineup battling at New York, Black Panther as Star Lord, Marvel Zombies (of course there’s zombies), and Spider-Man as the Sorcerer Supreme.  Inverse has an article breaking all of the possibilities down.

A lot of the actors who portray their characters in live action will reprise their roles for the animated series, including the late Chadwick Boseman as Black Panther/Star Lord.  Star...Panther?  Black Lord? That last one sounds wrong. Among those not coming back are Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man, Chris Evans as Steve Rogers, and Dave Bautista as Drax.  Bautista was, according to the man himself, wasn’t even asked to come back to voice Drax.  Others include Brie Larson as Carol Danvers, Tom Holland as Spider-Man, James Spader as Ultron, Zoe Saldana as Gamora, Elizabeth Olson as the Scarlet Witch, Letitia Wright as Shuri, Gweneth Paltrow as Pepper Potts, and various members of the Dora Milaje.  They have all apparently been confirmed to be appearing in What If...? in some form or another, but voiced by different people.

It will certainly be an interesting show, but I hope you can see where I’m going with this.

The Big Hero 6 fanbase has a lot of burning questions for the show and movie, and it’s not all just unanswered ones about what happens after the show ended.  I think collectively there are a few common “what-ifs” that we have in our minds about the team.  I think the most obvious one involves one of the Hamada brothers, and that branches off into other what-ifs as well.

Granted, not all of these are reality-altering hypotheticals like there are in the show or comics, but they can still change the course of the movie or show in a huge way.

1.) What if...Tadashi had survived the fire?

Tadashi being a survivor of the fire that takes down the exhibition hall brings up a few interesting conundrums.  Would he be scarred for life?  Would he even be able to complete school?

And if Hiro still made the team, would he end up becoming Sunfire like a lot of fans theorize?

The thing is that Callaghan knows that Tadashi died in the fire.  If he knew that he didn’t, would that change his motivations?  Would he still be using the Microbots knowing that the person that was trying to “stop” him was still alive? Alternatively, you also have...

2.) What if...Hiro had died instead of Tadashi?

Hiro was probably about two seconds away from being fully engulfed in that giant fireball.  It’s entirely plausible that he (or possibly both Hamadas) could have perished in the fire instead of his brother, which sort of leads to the same circumstances as the first question, just with different powersets.  Tadashi would no longer be tied to fire-based powers but the magnetic equipment that that Hiro currently uses.

But one has to think about whether Tadashi would be in the right state of mind to be a hero long term.  Seeing his kid brother perish in the accident would probably cause him to go insane, and perhaps the rest of the team would have to reel him in.

3.) What if...Baymax had killed Callaghan?

It’s worth noting that if Honey Lemon had been about three seconds later on getting the healthcare chip back into Baymax, this wouldn’t have been a “What If?” question.

And sure, the team would have saved the day, but at what cost?  The permanent scarring of a fourteen-year-old?  And what would have come of the major revelations after that fight concerning Project Silent Sparrow and Abigail?

Maybe they would have been the ones to build the portal to the other dimension to try to save her.  That would similar to what happened in the original manga (where Tadashi actually helps with the construction of the original portal and got sucked in as a result). 4.) What if...Baymax had saved Obake in “Countdown to Catastrophe”?

Obake dismissed Baymax after his hideout started collapsing near the end of Part 2, and you could tell that Baymax was seriously considering rescuing him before leaving him in his chair amongst the rubble.  Ultimately, however, he did leave him behind after Obake’s insistence.

Imagine what would have happened if he had gone against his programming and saved his life.

The relieved group hug on the beach would have been replaced with a disheveled (and probably a little damp) Obake.  Hiro would have been staring hiim down in disbelief.  Perhaps there would even be another fight, or at least the makings of one.

And then Obake would give himself up for arrest.

Maybe that’s where Chief Cruz could have been introduced.  It would have given a good lead into the next season, and it would give Megan’s meeting with Hiro in Season 2 a little bit more meaning.

And finally, because I’m a shipper and we have to go there:

5.) What if...Karmi had never left SFIT at the end of “City of Monsters”?

We know from the boards that Bob Schooley posted that “City of Monsters” was originally going to end very differently than what actually made the final cut.  It seemed that Karmi, in addition to getting a nonsensical boyfriend named “Flammarion”, was not suppose to leave SFIT in the early draft.

So what if Hiro had shown up to her lab, and instead of seeing this...

He saw this?

Or...something a little less dramatic?  Maybe just her packing up stuff because she’s in the process of leaving?  And Hiro had to say something in order for her to stop what she was doing? And how exactly would you achieve that? See, if that scenario happened, I think that this particular point would be where Hiro told her about being in Big Hero 6.  And of course Karmi wouldn’t believe him, even though she’s now in love with him crushing on him.

Then, he takes her to the base.

And she turns back to him with an incredulous look.

And roll credits.  What a cliffhanger to go into Season 3 with. I vaguely remember fanart depicting that exact scene (Hiro taking Karmi to the base), but I don’t remember who did it.  I would like to give them the proper credit. Season 3 would have looked totally different if that took place.  Maybe it would have been an actual season and not a bunch of mini stories.  Also...perhaps Karmi would have joined the team proper.

And maybe we would have finally had a giant canonical Karmiro moment.

...Now that is a big “What if?”.

(Marvel’s What If...? premieres on Wednesday, August 11th on Disney+.)