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#god i hate that I had to tag that
koipiu · 1 month
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so like. this is how ff7 goes right
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yanderespamton78 · 2 months
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AJDJSOAJW I MADE MY SPAMTON PLUSH THE DEFRAG OUTFIT
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
I'm so normal. About. This comicc
Yes
Defragmentation by @zarla-s go read it if you haven't rjkwsjdkdhkash
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miafeystits · 5 months
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truly one of my favorite things about the klapollo dynamic is that yes klavier is a world-famous rock star with tons of fans and probably a grammy or something, but apollo truly Could Not Care Less. it's the least interesting thing about this guy to him. he doesn't even like his band's music. he went to one of their concerts and decided he'd prefer to hang out backstage during the last 3rd of the show. he likes one (1) gavinners song and its an acoustic ballad collab that klavier doesnt even sing on
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constarlations · 9 days
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🍊 Big Sis Nemona 🍊
my favorite Unovan/Latina Pokémon trainer ever created
Twitter Link
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Humphrey Bone, light of my life
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von-karmas-a-bitch · 8 months
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thekittyokat · 17 days
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you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah
#sorry i got really into my feelings about mark hoffman again#the very specific version of him in my brain that i really really wish i had the time and energy to properly share with you guys#saw#well until i muster the energy to explode all of my feelings out into a fic. if you want to TRY and understand#know that my three biggest hoffman fic insps right now are as follows#your best kept secret hoffman. a series of mistakes hoffman. and rushed like a dreadful wind hoffman.#there is a very clear throughline just know i am extremely emotionally compromised rn#thinking about theee fics vs the canon path hoffman spirals down#something something the absolute tragedy of watching a man's descent into madness#the transformation of a man into a monster#and what could have saved him from himself and kramer's corruption#sorry i'm rambling so much oh my god i was just having such a crying fit out of nowhere about this#do you think he could feel it happening. do you think he was aware he was losing his mind.#the script version of him fucks with me so bad. the crazed rankings and the longer hair and him not being well kept anymore#it's impossible to think he didn't know he was deteriorating#fuuuck okay i need to either chill or write a whole longfic rn#i project on that guy so much i truly don't know if i could properly write my vision of him#until i do something more substantial the full extent of my hoffman exists for me and my boyfriend only. they get me like no one else#well ginny and jenna also get me. please read best kept secret and a series of mistakes Oh My God#where am i going with this. i like tag rambling actually this is a nice way to do it without forcing EVERYONE to read my delirium#anyways if you've read all of this i think i love you? feel free to dm me about hoffman and my very specific headcanons and aus#maybe soon i'll try and start writing my fics about this tragic man#i could never say any of this on twitter btw they'd string me up for my opinions on him as a sad wet beast who could have been fixed#if only he hadn't been weaponized first#god i'm too tired to even be as embarrassed about this as i should be. thought i unlearned cringe already#but i've been spending way too much time on twitter and they HAAATE hoffman there#rip. i know it's not that serious but i'm sensitive rn and hate feeling lonely in my thoughts#ok bye for real otherwise i'll never shut up. i might tag ramble more often bc this was therapeutic in a way i needed badly#cat chat
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tiddygame · 3 months
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i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs
the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:
tw: description of a panic attack? i think?
[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]
imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.
now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.
everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.
if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.
it's why he learned to always wear the mask.
when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.
he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.
the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.
he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”
what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.
he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.
…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.
scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.
so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.
when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.
the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.
simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.
with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)
johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).
when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.
their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)
ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.
in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.
“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.
“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.
“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?
“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?
“yes.”
but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.
jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.
ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.
fuck.
he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.
stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.
he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.
both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.
ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.
they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”
it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.
he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.
“do that again.”
ghost just gave him a confused look.
“smile.”
such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.
…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.
“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.
“please?”
fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.
ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.
soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.
“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”
ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.
his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.
he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.
“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?
ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.
“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.
“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.
ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”
“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.
“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—
“no.”
the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.
“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.
“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.
one last chance to not fuck everything up.
“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”
“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”
he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.
he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.
johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.
“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”
ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.
“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.
“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”
his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.
johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”
there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.
“johnny-”
“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”
he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”
johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”
simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”
“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”
“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.
johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”
he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.
“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”
“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.
“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.
ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?
“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.
johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.
“did you think i was being serious earlier?”
“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.
johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”
“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”
johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”
simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?
johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.
“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.
ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?
it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.
he needs to sleep.
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lovesickeros · 3 months
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☆ love; heretical and divine
{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k
To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.
To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.
To love a God is to sin.
The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.
But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.
She loves a God like a lover should.
A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.
She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.
No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.
The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.
It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.
For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.
She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.
She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.
But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.
Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.
There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.
To love is to be human, and they are no God.
Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..
She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.
To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.
Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.
An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#fic tag#tsaritsa#tsaritsa x reader#rip 2 anyone who expected like. a normal fic lol. lmao.#im very normal abt the tsaritsa and love its so tasty#i left it very up to interpretation what like. actually happens but. yknow.#i just think tsaritsa being the god of love and not knowing how 2 love without being weird abt it is fun#also wanted to dig into the concept of reader being fundamentally changed by being the creator besides gold blood yknow#but the tsaritsa Knows its changed you and she hates it. she hates it but how does one destroy what is divine?#how do you destroy the very thing that has created you in its hands so cruel and kind?#ive really gone off the deep end huh#this is a warning 2 the normal ppl u might as well leave now. lol#lowkey going for her actually straight up eating u but decided that was too weird for my first fic in a while. had 2 tone it down#i also wanted to add a bit of a concept of the constant resets teyvat goes through and how it plays into the themes#the tsaritsa constantly stuck in a cycle of getting rid of your divinity to be with you as you actually are but teyvat “dies” shortly after#bc obvs ur not the creator afterward so it just croaks and then it all resets again and again#but its the tsaritsa we r talking abt do u think that stops her. NO#obvs still up 2 interpretation go wild this was just what i intended#can u tell i have a lot of feelings abt tsaritsa and concepts of love from her pov. haha. I PROMISE IM NORMAL#i am mentally well why do u ask#what warnings do i add here. dont open this fic ive lost it maybe. yeah#covid rewiring my brain or smth idk man
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disconnected-dragon · 8 months
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yknow I really didn't think it was possible to make me angrier at JK Rowling but then I found out she wrote a book abt an autistic person being sucked into a cult (that's totally not an analogy for trans people what you talking abt) because they just can't possibly know what's good for them, they need their fathers to come and hire private investigators to get them out of a cult. And in the book autistic people are referred to by the r slur and called "a bit simple".
I didn't think it was possible for me to hate this paternalistic, honeyed head-patting, self-righteous, hate-driven HAG of a woman more than I did but fuck me here we are.
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brother-emperors · 5 months
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It’s a little bit ‘I was the match and you were the rock, maybe we started this fire/We sat apart and watched all we had burn on the pyre,’ and ‘Do you understand that we will never be the same again?’ from Bastille’s The Things We Lost In The Fire
and a little bit:
‘A l’instar de son aîné, Caius Antonius sait se montrer délicieux. Il est cultivé, intelligent, plein d’esprit, gracieux, amiable. Surtout, il appartient à la même génération que Brutus, au même milieu. Depuis le départ de Cassius pour l’Orient, il y à quatre mois, Marcus a vécu avec des hommes dont il pourrait être le père, ou avec les soldats, des bas officiers plus âgés mais qui ne sont pas de son monde.’
and also
‘En juin, Cassius a enlevé Laodicée et définitivement défait les forces de Dolabella. Jugeant les autres à sq propre mesur, le beau Publius Cornelius s'est souvenu de ce qu'il avait fait subir à Trebonius…Cassius passant pour un homme violent et rancunier, pour un ami fidèle aussi, Dolabella s'est dit qu'il allait payer la mort horrible de l'ancien gouverneur.’
Brutus: Assassin par idéal, Anne Berner
actually it’s mostly about how my entire playlist for the road leading up to Philippi (after both Brutus and Cassius leave Rome after the assassination of Caesar) is Bastille’s Bad Blood album on repeat. I want their relationship to get messy. There’s another version of this scene that gets a lot more teeth to the subtext of the conversation, but I wanted to play around with it first before committing to like. room layouts. there was originally a couple of transitional panels before the last 2 because I wanted Brutus to really chew on this thought he has, but augh. stairs. didn’t feel like drawing those.
ko-fi⭐ bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app
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omegalomania · 1 year
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the way mania haters talk about mania is so funny they're like "this album almost KILLED fall out boy's CAREER this album lost them SO MUCH MONEY mania FLOPPED everyone HATED it" they talk about it like fob had to sell their kidneys to keep touring on the thing. like. mania? the album that debuted at number one? the album with last of the real ones on it, the song that fans loved so much that they got it certified gold despite the label doing absolutely nothing to support it or push it for radio in the slightest? the album that got fall out boy a grammy nomination? that album? you can call it polarizing if you want but you can't say it didn't do a hell of a lot for an album that had a first single with such an eclectic reception
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luck-of-the-drawings · 2 months
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[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]
saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#GONNA START FORMATTING MY COMICS BETTER. W THE PROPER 'PREV' 'NEXT' LINKS#REALLY DIDNT EXPECT TO CONTINUE THIS SERIES BUT AAAUUUHH MY BRRAAAIN MY BRAIN IS SO IDEASSS. I HAVE 3 OTHER PAGES SKETCHED OUT#NO PROMISES ILL FINISH EM ANY TIME SOON OR EVER. MY WHIMS ARE THEIR OWN BEAST AND I ONLY DRAW ON MY WHIMS#THAT BEING SAID IF U COMMISSIONED ME ILL GEEETT TO YOUUU IM SORRYYYY. ART IS AN EMOTIONAL RELEASE FOR ME N BABY I HAVE EMOTIONS.#ESPECIALLY ABOUT GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP.for the desc here i put smth that i typed up in the tags of#another thing i made. i gotta make a proper Baby Gillion tag or smth. eventually.. eventually...I LOVE DRAWIN THIS LIL BABY GUY..#i also LOVE depicting the teachers as just being so fuckin mean. ofc theres variation in that. just like in all things.like the teacher her#idk if itll be mentioned but the octo lady is named Ms Octburn.an octopus pun based off the name of an actual councilor i had#when i was in elementary school i got bullied alot but teachers never did anything. i hated adults and didnt trust them.#but this councilor o mine was so genuinely sweet. i remember spending alot of time w her. she doesnt work there anymore.#but that one school adult that actually earns ur trust and is there for you when they can be.its SO important for a child i think#i hope she knows how much she helped me.youll see in the next page that ms octburn isnt perfect either.but she tries. they all try.somehow.#ALL these comics are gonna be inspired by somesorta experience o mine in the school system. school is so fucked up u ever thing abt that#AND GILLIOOOOONNN IN THE MOST FUCKED UP LITTLE SCHOOL OF ALL. MAINTAINED BY A CULT. CENTERED AROUND HIM. OUR CHOSEN ONE#I IMAGINE ALOT BANKS ON HIS SUCCESS. THIS IS THE WORLD. THE WHOLE WORLD. THE PROPHECY IS GOING TO COME TRUE N UR TELLIN ME#THAT ITS THIS LITTLE IDIOT THATS GONNA BE SAVING US? WHAT IF HE FAILS. IF HE CANT GET THIS RIGHT THEN HE WILL FAIL AND WE WILL DIE#WE NEED TO TRAIN HIM. WE NEED HIM TO LEARN. AND TO SUCCEED. OR ELSE WE'RE DEAD. WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD. I IMAGINE THAT MUST BE STRESSFUL#in other news i hope ppl actually giggle when they read these. they ARE intended to be comical. dark humor or whatever. like its also sad#this is intended to be a sad comic series. but a funny one too. does that make sense? god i hope so.saw some1 say they had flashbacks-#-reading this. like YES!! THE INTENDED EFFECT!! YOU GET ME!! i love seeing ppl get upset on this lil baby boys behalf. i LOVE seeing ppl-#-wail n weep n cry in the comments. i LOOOVE seeing ppl RELATE to baby gillion. and i love letting u all know that this wont be a happycomi#gillion gets his happiness arc in the actual show. this series is one of unfortunate events. teehehehe. do u guys remember that show#i keep listening to the lil songs from A Series of Unfortunate Events for inspiration. GOOD STUFF!!#anyway uuhh uhh thats all i got in my brain. for now. feed me ur comments give me ur input i NNEEEEEDD THHEEEMMMM
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jtl-fics · 1 year
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Fluent Freshman - Part 18
PREVIOUS
Weirdly enough the only thing that FF can think of as they head down the stairs is the first Saw movie.
That one happened IN a bathroom right? He kind of watched all of them in a row to prepare himself for whatever Andrew might decide to do to him. But he’s near positive that one happened in a bathroom. It was derelict and he didn’t think it really had running water (or did it? Didn’t the guy wake up in a half-full tub? His memory is hazy in his bathroom related desperation and may be trying to protect him from thinking about water).
All leading to the main thought going through his head as he slowly headed down the narrow stairway to his death.
Would Andrew let him use the facilities before he’s handcuffed to a pipe?
The worst part about all of this is that he is not sure if he needs to take a dump or if he just needs to fart, he knows he has to take a piss. He’s read that when you die your body will relax and it’ll all just flow out of you and Nicky gave him these pants so he feels bad but he also does not want to face his death without pants. If he needs to take a shit then they’re definitely going to be absolutely ruined, if it’s a fart well…Andrew can’t kill him any further? He can mutilate his corpse a little but FF won’t be around to experience it.
No matter what he’s definitely going to piss himself. He had way too much water at Sweeties trying to consume the spicy ice cream.
You may be wondering why FF has not run away from his predicament and is walking down these steps without protest or comment or plea for his life.
First of all he is pretty sure that if he makes any sudden movements he will ruin these pants that Nicky bought for him. Second of all Andrew had already told him once that he wouldn’t accept any pleading for mercy he still remembers how he asked Andrew, “Please give me back my pen?” and Andrew had shot him a look that had his stomach cramp and his fingers itch for the bottle sweet pink relief in his backpack.
“I don’t like that word, don’t use it around me.” He said.
FF ever the pragmatic sort, “Which one?” He had asked because he had said a few, “I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.” He followed up with when Andrew glowered at him only for the glare’s intensity to increase 10 fold.
“Don’t use the first word of your first statement or the last word of your second.” Andrew grit out and got up to leave without a word.
Message received loud and clear Andrew did NOT like words ‘Please’ or ‘Misunderstanding’.
So FF knows that any pleading for mercy would ABSOLUTELY result in Andrew not letting him take a bathroom break before him and Captain Neil make destroying him into a couple activity. The fact that Captain Neil is here is a bit of a shock but maybe Captain Neil has finally gotten the other Freshman Dealer up to snuff.
Maybe Kevin really did want to dissect him to figure out how Strikers keep passing straight to him?
They reach the door at the bottom of the stairs.
Ah, time to face the music.
At least he’d texted Gran that he was going to die when they had gotten into the club and the bathroom had not made itself readily apparent. Sure it was about his current ‘gotta piss / gotta shit’ situation but he’d been wise to keep his cause of death vague in that text.
The door opens and…
This is the NICEST torture chamber FF has EVER seen. (And after his desperation watch of all the Saw movies he has seen quite a FEW)
“Minyard, Josten, and Guest. Table 6 is yours.” A voice comes from the side and when he looks over there’s a man in quite a nice uniform standing behind a soft-lit bar polishing a glass looking every bit like a bar tender at those high-end places you see in movies. He looks around a bit more and there are some other people down here. It’s not quiet per se but it is a comfortable level of noise in comparison to the IQ dropping noise upstairs.
“C’mon Smith.” Andrew juts his chin towards a table in the back.
FF follows but continues to try and fit this nice little room into his world view.
Do these people watch other people get tortured to death for fun on a Friday night? Unlikely considering the upholstery on the booths and chairs looked like it’d stain if blood got on it. Was this perhaps a trafficking location where Andrew would sell off his organs to the highest bidder? He looked at the other patrons who seemed a bit higher class than the general club scene upstairs but not like they had the money to buy one of his kidneys. Maybe-
“Do not tell Nicky about this place, ever.” Andrew says as they slide into the booth. FF nods but can’t help but tilt his head slightly in an unspoken question, “He would absolutely tell any and everyone about it. Eden’s wants to keep this place a secret from the general public.” Andrew explains.
“Nicky currently thinks that there’s a straight swingers club down here.” Captain Neil says with a huff of laughter.
“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.” Floats through his head again.
What the fuck was a swinger?
His fingers itch for his phone but he’s currently talking with Andrew and Captain Neil so that’d be rude but they’re talking to him like he absolutely knows what a swinger is and he DOES NOT.
“It’s quieter down here. Figured you’d prefer it.” Andrew says as he gets up and heads towards the bar down here where the bartender was aggressively cutting ice chunks.
He and Captain Neil sit in silence for a few seconds before Captain Neil offers him a slight smile, “I know you’d rather be with your grandma and you and Andrew prefer not to say things out loud but we’ve really liked hanging out with you.” Captain Neil says.
????????????????????????????????????????????????
That’s such a nice thing to say to someone.
Especially someone like FF.
Especially especially when they’re planning on killing him?
He hopes his confusion stays off his face as he nods once. “It’s been fun.” It’s not even really a lie. Thanksgiving yesterday had been nice and loud and FF had missed the chaos of a Family Dinner more than he had ever realized. The car ride had been…a time but once he’d asked Andrew to either keep his eyes on the road or let him out Andrew’s hands had stayed at 10 and 2 and the ride had been smooth. Aaron and Nicky’s weight against him had been nice too, a warm memory before he developed a possible life long aversion to whipped cream. He’d gotten to go Black Friday shopping and Captain Neil even helped carry it home for him. Baking bad been nice even if the stress of doing it with his life on the line was less so. The subsequent nap and day spent doing normal college guy things had been…it’d all been nice.
It’s starting to feel like….
“Drink this.” Andrew puts a drink down in front of him.
No Andrew definitely wants his bladder to burst.
“What is it?” He asks instead looking at the creamy looking drink with suspicion.
Andrew rolls his eyes as he hands Neil a fruity looking drink as he sits with what is a few fingers of scotch. “It’s virgin.” Andrew says not answering the question at all and must pick up that FF won’t be drinking it until he gets the full answer because he continues after a moment, “It’s like a Pina Colada but with bananas instead.” Andrew answers.
It’s not that FF hates banana but why in the world would Andrew grab him this? Was it just one of the few virgins options on this place’s fancy menu or-
“Bananas will help get your stomach acid back down.” Andrew says, “Since you’re an idiot and ate that mango ice cream just because you wanted to impress that girl.” He rolls his eyes.
“Impress that girl?” There weren’t any girls at the table and how in the world would him eating that god-forsaken spicy ice cream impress anyone other than Betsy. Even Betsy would only be impressed by the depths he was willing to reach just to avoid what he perceives as an awkward social situation.
“The waitress.” Neil reminds him as if that cleared anything up.
“Yeah,” he says as if he has understood the conversation but he has not. “It was spicy mango.” He says because maybe if he keeps the conversation going he’ll get enough context clues to understand what might be his last conversation.
Andrew let out a huff of laughter and pushed FF’s drink closer to him, “Drink your fancy Banana smoothie Casanova.” He says.
No closer to understanding the conversation he accepts that it might be something that only becomes clear after he sheds his mortal coil and is no longer given a -10 INT debuff by his full bladder and revolting stomach.
He takes a sip.
Oh that’s actually pretty good.
It feels like he can feel it sizzling in his stomach and soothing the discomfort there. Maybe he should look into Banana smoothies as a replacement for what Abby has called a ‘concerning co-dependence’ in regards to Pepto Bismol. No one can put him on a medical watch if it’s just banana smoothies he’s chugging down like they’re going out of style.
“Thanks,” he says, “that was good.” He admits before reaching into his jacket and moving past the Megamind toy and grabbing his wallet. “What do I owe you for that?” He asks.
“We’re even.” Andrew waves away the money.
“You bought the stuff for breakfast, those brownies, and the pie tomorrow.” Neil says and FF blinks surprised to hear that they were talking about the pie he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to make.
“You don’t need to buy a spot with us.” Andrew says and FF leans back slightly at the intensity on Andrew’s face as he says it. “I invited you here because I wanted to. The brownies were good but if you don’t feel like making the pie tomorrow? It’s not like I’m going to drive you back to Palmetto and leave you on Abby’s doorstep.” He says.
FF feels gears start to turn in his head.
“It’s good pie.” He hears himself say.
“I didn’t even know about the pie when I invited you.” Andrew says and…
Andrew and FF sit in silence but honestly it’s not like Andrew’s sharpening his knives. The two of them mostly just do their own work or read. FF has been getting his German literacy up to snuff so that he can read the language when he goes there to visit Nicky’s fiance next year. He likes how serious Andrew is about learning it so that he doesn’t have to ask Captain Neil a thousand questions and it’d be nice if Andrew wasn’t obviously planning on murdering him.
Andrew brings dried apples and sends Captain Neil along with probiotic yogurts to their meetings. Both of those things tend to soothe his stomach and the yogurt that had been unflavored before was now vanilla which he liked a fair bit. It would have been a really nice gesture if it wasn’t for the fact that Andrew was making fun of his tummy troubles.
Andrew will put his foot down in practice sometimes when Kevin is getting too demanding wanting to know exactly how FF intercepted his passes to Neil. Kevin always backs off and Andrew will do the same when Jack starts to get a little too personal in his attacks at FF or when Sheena decides she’s going to be a bitch. It’d be nice if it wasn’t Andrew staking his claim that he was the one who was going to make FF’s life miserable.
Andrew drove FF around for an hour after Greg had shown up. He found out later from one of his friends that Andrew had threatened Greg after he had power walked away into the building. Andrew had driven him around and had only started heading towards the tower when FF had relaxed. It would have been nice if Andrew wasn’t trying to lure him into a false sense of security.
Andrew had invited him to his Family’s house over Thanksgiving when the bad storm had ruined his Thanksgiving plans. Andrew had threatened Jack to stop him from eating his Grandma’s pie and complaining about it. Andrew had stopped messing around with Captain Neil when FF had made it clear he was uncomfortable being in a car where the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road. Andrew had twice made him go to bed in the last couple hours.
It’d be nice if…
“We’ve really liked hanging out with you” Captain Neil had said.
Andrew was just trying to be nice.
Embarrassment rolls over him like a wave but FF has many years of pretending like he’s not going to die from embarrassment, “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll still probably make the pie tomorrow.” He offers.
Andrew’s eyes change slightly and FF is under the impression that he’s happy to hear that.
“Just enjoy your drink Smith.” Andrew says.
FF does go back to sipping his drink and letting more and more memories of things Andrew had done come to him and lets his embarrassment grow.
He finishes his drink and only then realizes that he is a code red in terms of bladder capacity. The new knowledge that this is not a torture chamber but in fact yet another overture of friendship from Andrew paired with his desperation finally loosens the question from his mouth, “Where’s the bathroom here?” He asks.
“There isn’t one downstairs but just head up stairs and hug the wall to the left.” Captain Neil answers.
“Bring your phone. If Frank doesn’t recognize you to let you back in.” Andrew reminds him.
FF nods and heads out of the club and up the stairs.
He might be doing a bit of a potty dance so he forces himself to become unnoticeable because he does not need cool people at a cool club to see him about to piss himself. Once he enters into a stealth mode that the United States Military would like to talk to him about he hugs the wall and nearly cries tears of relief when he sees a door labelled MEN.
He doesn’t think about the possibility of letting up on stealth mode because he is sure that he is about to make a face that he does NOT want any human being to see when he unzips his pants and starts to take the world’s most life-affirming piss on the planet.
As his bladder empties his brain is able to process the understanding that he had come to down in the basement he had thought would be his final resting place.
Andrew has been trying to be nice (and succeeding it was all so nice! He feels like an asshole! He is an asshole! Gran always told him that assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me. He had just thought it was funny grandma humor not valuable life advice!)
The night wasn’t going to end with Andrew’s knife in his stomach, it was probably just going to end with Nicky puking on his shoes (which is fine because these are the shoes Nicky was letting him borrow for the club anyways, they’re his shoes to puke onto.)
A secondary relief fills his system. His stomach, soothed by the Banana smoothie and now this, feels like it might actually let him live through the night.
While FF was distracted with a piss that would have made any number of cult leaders jealous with the number of divine revelations he was experiencing he failed to notice a second man enter the bathroom.
There was a reason that FF always ALWAYS became noticeable when he was at a urinal and the man who came to the urinal right next to him was showcasing that VERY reason.
He was trapped here for at least ten more seconds and he could hear the man grumbling distractedly but didn’t really pay it too much attention until…
“Fucking Wesninski Brat.” He grumbled under his breath.
Oh god dammit.
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xehanortsreport · 2 months
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the subtle resignation in his expression at even bouncing with the context of his final words kinda destroying me ngl
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can-of-slorgs · 2 months
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caw 🦅
#neopets#neotag#neoart#eyrie#mutant#vin doods#I can't beat the allegations that i doodle dnd creatures on a daily with this one huh#god i love mutants eyries so much i'm sorry i gavehim more draconic features but uGH;#what great colours lmao#I also gave inverted knees to the hooves cause i aint doing whatever neos doing#can you tell i have a thing for dnd and dragons in general im so sorry JAKLSDF#also in topic i've been so wanting to make a neo player's manual for so stupidly long its insane#might actually do it at one point#i had species and proficiencies and everything at one point i think its all gone lol#also for a fact that i'd be a me-thing for the most part#like i'd be the only one wanting it or playing according to it#my other friends none like neopets so yeah#god do i want to dm a neopian adventure i have tons planned lmao#but oh well#i'm super greatful for all positive commenta ad every like and reblog you guys ave given meeeee#i sound like a broken record but i swear i try to not leave this blog for long but i always read your tags and crack up to them sajhas#i know i've left a couple of you on read that actually wanted to know about my characters BUT IM SO SORRYYYY#my master's taking so long and everytime there's something new and have to rewrite and replan everthing everyday i hate it here#but i will do it#i know i will#both the lore writting and my thesis HASJKHASJS#anyways if you're still reading dont be afraid to shoot up a couple of messages! It might make this blog less dead
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