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#punk in peril
thlayli-ra · 1 month
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I am utterly obsessed with @comediakaidanovsky 's theory that Drew McIntyre's body is currently possessed by MJF. Just imagining all the torment he can unleash on Punk now that he's so much bigger and stronger than him. 😮‍💨
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r-truth · 5 months
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coquinaclutch · 5 months
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the-gloomth · 5 months
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New Alt Mall Photoshoot
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eriksamaya · 2 years
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Tread Perilously -- ABC Afterschool Special: The Day My Kid Went Punk
Tread Perilously — ABC Afterschool Special: The Day My Kid Went Punk
Tread Perilously’s month of reactionary PSA television continues with an ABC Afterschool Special called “The Day My Kid Went Punk.” When dweeby band nerd Terry Warren gets a summer job as a day camp counselor at a mountain resort, he takes the opportunity to rethink his image. Trading in his terrible glasses for contacts, Hagger slacks for black jeans, and collared shirts for a ripped-up tee, he…
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quotidianish · 3 months
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winter and peril should’ve teamed up and formed a shitty iTunes punk band together instead all we got was her turning him into Popeyes chicken
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rexwrendraws · 9 months
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Sandcastles: Year One, A Sandman Fan-Fic Anthology ⏳
To celebrate The Sandman's one year anniversary this past weekend (how has it been a year already!?), I started a self-indulgent project and decided I wanted to take a crack at typesetting for the very first time.
So, I'm very proud to present: Sandcastles, an 180-page digital anthology that celebrates some of my favorite Sandman fics from the past year! Sandcastle collects shorter fics ranging from gen to mature, and is print-ready and available to be downloaded for free. Through this anthology, I hope others can get the same joy from these fics the same way I did over the past year (think of it as a glorified fic rec list)! (And, if anyone's interested, the print-ready files are available for download as well, if anyone wanted to print their own copy of Sandcastles!)
✨ Download Sandcastles here!
Thank you to all the authors for giving me permission to include their work in this anthology! This is my love letter to all of your work! Please check them out and leave a kind word or two!
The fics included in Sandcastles, in order of the Table of Contents, are the following:
Companions - Picture_Yourself (@anthrossandman)
Fridays - hardly_an_escape (@hardly-an-escape)
Warning Sign - issylra (@issylra)
Snacktime - fishydwarrows (@fishfingersandscarves)
Stray - softestpunk (@softest-punk)
Aulon Raid - moorishflower (@moorishflower)
Unbidden Miracles - mostlybuddingthoughts (@mostlybuddingthoughts)
Available - softestpunk (@softest-punk)
Points of View - cuubism (@cuubism)
Fern-Fevered - notallsandmen (notallmaenads) (@notallsandmen)
The Last - secondjulia (@secondjulia)
Scratch a Little Itch - sanyumi (@valeriianz)
Simple Dreams of Comfort - softestpunk (@softest-punk)
The Apocalypse is Nigh! - cuubism (@cuubism)
To Those Who Dare Wonder - Astrophel_Hireath (@mentallyinvernation)
The Perils of Inebriation - Lilibet (@the-slow-arrow)
Touch - softestpunk (@softest-punk)
Passing the Time - Anonymous
I'm Stuck on You (I'm Mighty Glad You Stayed) - hardly_an_escape (@hardly-an-escape)
Hob Gadling vs. The British Museum (Unknown Artist, c. 2022, Oil on Canvas) - TheAllKnowingOwl (@theallknowingowl)
This also counts as my submission for Day 1 of @mr-sadman 's Sandmanniversary 2023 prompts (Collection) :)
_ _ _ _ _ (Post & files updated — 29.08.2023)
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zapreportsblog · 8 months
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❝when I look at you I see stars❞
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✭ pairing : Hobie brown x reader
✭ fandom : spiderman into the spiderverse
✭ summary : (Y/n) and Hobie have been dating for a couple of months now and Hobie decided to take her to visit the spiderverse
✭ authors note : this fic is based off of this post by @pearlsinmyhair
✭ spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist
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(Y/N) stood in her room, phone pressed against her ear as she chatted away with her friend. She absentmindedly painted her nails black, carefully adding white stars and other designs to create a punk-inspired manicure. It was a typical day for her, and she was used to Hobie's unconventional entrances. He was her boyfriend, after all, and his Spider-Punk persona was just part of the package.
As she chatted away, a familiar presence made itself known in her room. Hobie, or Spiderman as he liked to call himself, had arrived through a portal created by his trusty portal transmitter watch. He snuck up behind her, giving her a sweet little head kiss, interrupting her conversation.
Startled, (Y/N) turned around to face him, still holding the phone to her ear. She smiled at him, used to his surprise appearances. "Hey, darlin. What's up?" she asked nonchalantly.
Hobie grinned, his mischievous eyes sparkling. ”Aye, babe. I've got a little adventure planned for us," he said, his voice full of excitement.
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "An adventure, huh? What did you have in mind?"
Hobie's grin widened as he explained his plan. "I was thinking about taking you to the Spiderverse. You know, show you where I come from, the different versions of me. It'll be like a mini-vacation, just you and me."
(Y/N) paused, considering his proposal. She knew how much Hobie loved his rebellious antics, and the idea of exploring different dimensions did sound intriguing. However, she also knew the risks involved. Miguel, Hobie's mentor and the original Spiderman, had strict rules about not meddling with other universes. The only reason why she knew of it was because her boyfriend had a habit of ranting to her about how stuck up the man was.
Still, (Y/N) loved the thrill of adventure, and she couldn't resist the opportunity to spend time with Hobie. "Alright, darling. I’ll bite," she said with a smirk. "But you're gonna have to wait for my nails to dry and for me to change my clothes. Can't go on an adventure looking like this."
Hobie chuckled, his eyes shining with excitement. "Fair enough, my favorite girl. Take your time. I'll be right here, patiently waiting."
(Y/N) ended her call, put her phone down, and turned her attention back to Hobie. She leaned in, giving him a quick kiss before heading over to her dresser to pick out a new outfit. As she changed, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within her. She knew that with Hobie, every adventure was bound to be unforgettable.
Once her nails were dry and she was ready, (Y/N) walked back to where Hobie was waiting. She took his hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Alright, Spiderman. Lead the way. Let's see what this Spiderverse is all about."
Hobie grinned, activating his portal transmitter watch once again. With a flash of light, the portal opened before them, revealing a multitude of dimensions waiting to be explored. Hand in hand, (Y/N) and Hobie stepped through, ready to embark on their thrilling adventure together.
Hobie and (Y/n) found themselves in the intricate web of the Spider-Verse, a multiverse that held countless adventures and perils. Hobie, always prepared for the unexpected, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glowing bracelet. Its design resembled a tiny punk-rock chain, adorned with a spider emblem.
He took (Y/n)'s wrist gently, helping her place the bracelet beside her beaded ones. The moment it clicked into place, the bracelet emitted a faint, soothing glow.
Hobie explained, his voice filled with a hint of mischief, "This is a day pass bracelet, babe. It's gonna help you stop glitching in the Spider-Verse. You know how chaotic this place can get."
(Y/n) eyed the bracelet curiously, then rewarded Hobie's thoughtfulness with a playful kiss on the chin. He grinned at her sweet gesture, his heart warmed by her affection.
Unable to resist the urge, Hobie leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss. It was a brief but passionate exchange, sealing their bond in the face of the unknown.
As they broke apart, Hobie took (Y/n)'s hand firmly in his own. He looked into her eyes with a determined expression. "Stay close to my side, okay?"
(Y/n) nodded, her playful smirk never leaving her face. "Yes, sir."
Hobie and (Y/n) ventured deeper into the Spider-Verse, where countless iterations of Spider-People swung through the cityscape and dimensions collided in a mesmerizing symphony of chaos and order. Hobie led the way with confidence, and (Y/n) stuck close to his side as he explained various aspects of this peculiar realm.
He gestured to a bustling building with a neon sign that read "Spider Cafe." "This is the cafeteria," he explained. "It's where all the many Spider-Men and Spider-Women meet up to refuel. There's something special about Spider Dave's donuts; he makes some of the best in the multiverse."
(Y/n)'s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she heard about Spider Dave's donuts. "Oh, I definitely want to try some of those," she exclaimed, her appetite piqued.
Hobie grinned at her enthusiasm, and they made their way into the bustling cafe. Inside, they were met with a diverse array of Spider-Folk, each from a different dimension, chatting and enjoying their meals.
The aroma of freshly baked donuts wafted through the air, enticing (Y/n) even more. Hobie led her to the counter, where a friendly, portly Spider-Man with a chef's hat greeted them.
"Hey, spiderman!" Spider Dave greeted, a warm smile on his face. "Who's your friend?"
Hobie introduced (Y/n) with a grin. "SpiderDave, this is (Y/n). She's new to the Spider-Verse, and she's dying to try your legendary donuts."
Spider Dave chuckled heartily. "Well, you've come to the right place, (Y/n)! What can I get you?"
(Y/n) peered into the glass display, her mouth watering at the sight of various donuts with spider-themed decorations. "I'll take a chocolate web-spin, please!"
Spider Dave swiftly boxed up a chocolate web-spin donut, handing it to (Y/n) with a flourish. She accepted it with a grin, her taste buds tingling in anticipation.
Hobie ordered his usual, a classic Spider-Punk blackberry donut, and soon they found a cozy corner to sit and enjoy their treats.
As (Y/n) took her first bite of the chocolate web-spin donut, her eyes widened in delight. It was everything Hobie had promised—soft, sweet, and utterly delicious.
Hobie leaned in, stealing a playful bite from her donut. "Told you it was worth it."
(Y/n) laughed, savoring the moment. As they enjoyed Spider Dave's donuts together, they knew that this adventure through the Spider-Verse was turning out to be as exhilarating and unforgettable as they had hoped.
With the taste of Spider Dave's donuts still lingering on their lips, Hobie and (Y/n) continued their tour through the bustling Spider-Verse. Hobie was an excellent tour guide, explaining the nuances of this unique realm with enthusiasm. (Y/n) couldn't help but be captivated by his passion and the vibrancy of the Spider-Verse.
As they strolled through the Spider-Verse cityscape, Hobie spotted familiar figures in the distance. Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles, his close friends and fellow Spider-People, were swinging their way toward them.
Hobie flashed a mischievous grin at (Y/n) and without warning, he scooped her up over his shoulder. She squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling out of her as they soared through the air. It was a thrilling ride that left her a giggling mess.
Upon landing gracefully, Hobie placed her down gently, and she wobbled a bit on her feet, still giddy from the experience.
Pavitr, Miles, and Gwen approached, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Hobie with a new face. Hobie, always one to keep things casual, introduced his friends to his girlfriend with a playful flair.
"Lads and gal, meet (Y/n)," he said with pride, a fond smile directed at her.
Pavitr and Miles immediately bombarded her with questions about her world and her journey into the Spider-Verse, their curiosity insatiable. Gwen, on the other hand, groaned and playfully pushed the boys away.
"Give the girl some space, you two. She's not here for an interrogation," Gwen scolded them, coming to (Y/n)'s defense.
(Y/n) couldn't help but chuckle at the camaraderie between the Spider-Friends. She introduced herself warmly, shaking hands with Gwen and sharing a knowing look, as if silently agreeing that boys could be quite the handful.
With the boys locked in their own animated conversation about various Spider-Verse shenanigans, (Y/n) and Gwen drifted off to the side, forming their own connection. As they chatted and shared stories, (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes on her.
As (Y/n) and Gwen drifted away from the boys, engaged in their own conversation, Hobie couldn't help but steal a lingering glance at his girlfriend's departing figure. His eyes were drawn to her perky and perfectly sized rear, a sight that never failed to captivate him.
However, it wasn't just her lovely form that had captured his attention this time. It was the pair of jeans she was wearing, which were new to him. They were dark blue with vibrant red stars artfully embroidered on the backside.
Hobie couldn't contain his appreciation for the stylish choice she had made. Under his breath, he mumbled, "Damn."
Pavitr, who had been observing Hobie's expression with a raised eyebrow, turned to him and asked, "What's got you muttering, mate?"
Hobie couldn't help but grin mischievously, his eyes still locked on (Y/n) as she walked away. "I'm seein' stars here, mate."
Pavitr chuckled and shook his head, understanding the sentiment entirely. After all, in the Spider-Verse, where extraordinary sights and adventures awaited at every turn, sometimes it was the little things, like the sight of stars on your girlfriend's jeans, that left the biggest impression.
As (Y/n) continued her conversation with Gwen, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone's eyes were on her. It was a peculiar sensation, as if a pair of laser-focused eyes were burning into her, tracing her every move.
Unable to resist the urge, she subtly peeked over her shoulder, trying to pinpoint the source of this mysterious gaze. Her search led her to her boyfriend, Hobie, who had been a few paces behind her. His eyes were locked on her with an intensity that left her both flattered and amused.
With a playful scolding tone, she wagged a finger at him, "Eyes up here, pal," pointing towards her face to emphasize her point.
Hobie, his gaze reluctantly breaking away from her perky rear, looked up at her face. However, his expression quickly shifted from scolded to thoroughly impressed. (Y/n) had on a black coho top adorned with red stars on the breast part of her shirt, and it was a look that suited her perfectly.
"Damn," Hobie couldn't help but mutter under his breath, captivated by her style and beauty.
(Y/n) maintained her teasing tone, "Oh, no you don’t. You better not be getting any ideas, or I'm giving both these clothing pieces away."
Hobie couldn't resist a grin as he approached her, closing the gap between them. "But, babe, I love seeing your stars," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
(Y/n) felt herself flush at his words, her playful scolding turning into bashful fluster. In the ever-chaotic and extraordinary Spider-Verse, Hobie's adoration for her was a constant source of warmth and comfort, and she couldn't help but be smitten by his charming antics.
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greatpestilenz · 9 months
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Closer Than You Think - Hobie Brown x Reader
In your room, a cozy haven filled with familiar trinkets and treasured memories, you sat on the edge of your bed, nervously fidgeting with the corner of a notebook. Hobie Brown, your best friend, made himself comfortable, crossing his legs and propping his feet up on your desk chair. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the space, but you were too preoccupied to notice the peaceful ambiance.
The topic of conversation was your infatuation with the enigmatic hero known as Spider-Punk. You spoke excitedly, recounting the time he had swooped in to save you from a perilous situation. The adrenaline-fuelled moment was etched vividly in your mind—the way he effortlessly defeated the criminals, the reassuring touch of his hand as he helped you up, and the earthy aroma mixed with a hint of cologne that lingered in the air.
Hobie listened attentively, an amused grin playing on his lips as he pretended not to know the identity of the hero you were describing. "What's so special about this Spider-Punk?" he asked, his eyes dancing with mischief, though his heart was pounding with curiosity.
"He's amazing!" you gushed, oblivious to the secrets he held. "The way he saved me, it felt like he knew me, like we had a connection. And the smell... oh, the smell was intoxicating. Earthy and warm, with a touch of cologne. It made me feel dizzy, in a good way."
Hobie tried to recall the cologne he wore that day, secretly hoping to gather more clues without revealing himself. "He sounds like quite the hero," he said, his voice light and teasing. "Maybe he's closer to you than you think."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Haha, that would be a funny twist, wouldn't it? But no, I highly doubt it."
Hobie leaned back, his smile softening as he watched you with affectionate eyes. "You never know," he said cryptically. "But hey, don't get your hopes up. It's just a silly fantasy, after all."
“That might be. But, Spider-Punk’s no fantasy...” You say and close your eyes softly, your lips forming into a smile as your mind raced to recall the memories of the night he saved you. He placed you on an apartment rooftop and told you to be careful next time with a sweet voice.. The way he pulled his mask just above his lips to place them on yours. “I could feel him... touch him...”
Hobie's heart raced in his chest, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He decided to play along, trying his best to hide the mix of nervousness and excitement within him. "Oh, really now? So you've had a taste of him, have you?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Tell me, love, did he taste as good as he smelled?” 
You blushed brightly. “U-um..!” You couldn’t help but look away in embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to know!”
Hobie chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned closer to you. "No need to be embarrassed, love. Secrets have a way of slipping out, you know? But since you've already spilled the beans, tell me, did Spider-Punk taste like a melodic mix of danger and desire?" He teased, his voice low and playful. 
With a flushed face, you recalled the events. "He was everything I could ever ask for..." You closed your eyes again as if feeling his lips on yours again.
Hobie couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he watched you reminisce about the encounter, his own desire hidden beneath a playful facade. "I can only imagine, love. It sounds like an electrifying moment, to say the least." He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "If only you knew that the hero you yearn for is closer than you think."
"Nonsense. Spider-Punk probably lives in a luxurious house with many women swooning over him..." You say with a twinge of jealousy. "And even if he wasn’t... He wouldn't want me.."
Hobie's heart ached at your words, your insecurities hitting close to home. He reached out and gently took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey now, don't say that. You're an amazing person, and anyone would be lucky to have you. Don't underestimate yourself, love." He smiled softly, hoping to alleviate some of your doubts. "And as for Spider-Punk, well, you might find he's not as distant as you think.”
"Why do you keep saying that?” You say with a confused mien.
Hobie sighed softly, feeling conflicted between revealing the truth and preserving your friendship. "Because, love, sometimes the things we desire the most are right in front of us, but we're too blind to see it." He looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of longing and affection. "But I understand if you don't want to entertain the idea. Just know that the person who truly cares about you might be closer than you realize.”
"What do you mean?”
Hobie hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not to reveal his secret. But seeing the genuine curiosity in your eyes, he made up his mind. "Alright, I'll let you in on a little secret." He took a deep breath. "Spider-Punk... well, he's not some distant hero with a luxurious lifestyle. In fact, he's... right here, sitting in front of you.”
You grin. "I know you're only trying to make me feel better, Hobie-”
Hobie couldn't hold back any longer. He took a leap of faith, letting his true feelings guide him as he leaned in, capturing your lips with a gentle, yet passionate kiss.
You shut your eyes tightly and kiss back. When he pulls away, he looked into your eyes. "You.. taste just like him.." You look at him with wide eyes.
Hobie's heart skipped a beat as he looked into your wide eyes, his own filled with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. "That's because... I am him, love." He admitted, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of nervousness. "I'm Spider-Punk.”
"R..really..?" Your heart started beating out of your chest. "You're.. you're not pranking me are you? There aren't any cameras around?" You ask and look around frantically.
Hobie chuckled softly, reaching out to hold your hand. "No, love, this isn't a prank. There are no cameras, no hidden jokes. It's just me, your best friend, revealing my secret to you." He squeezed your hand gently. "I've been hiding this from you because I was afraid of losing our friendship, but... I couldn't keep pretending anymore. I wanted you to know the truth.”
You look at him wide eyed before jumping onto him and taking him into a big hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck only to find out he has the same earthy scent as the hero you’ve been crushing on.
Hobie couldn't help but smile as he wrapped his arms around you, returning the hug with warmth and affection. He held you close, his heart pounding with relief and joy. "I'm so glad you're taking this well, love." His voice was filled with genuine happiness. "I've wanted to reveal this to you for so long. And yes, the scent... it's the same as Spider-Punk's. It's me, all this time.”
"How did I not know??" You laughed into his neck. "I'm so dumb!"
Hobie chuckled softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "No, love, you're not dumb at all. I made sure to conceal my identity as best as I could. I didn't want you to figure it out, for fear of ruining our friendship." He spoke sincerely, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm glad you know now. I can be myself around you, without any secrets.”
You pull away and smile brightly at him before leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a passionate and longing kiss.
Hobie's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his heart racing with a mix of desire and adoration. He wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss, savouring the taste and sensation of finally being able to express his feelings for you.
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courtchip · 1 year
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Punk sells like St. Sebastian - @dilf-in-peril
x x x x
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thlayli-ra · 1 month
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Drew, please come get your man on Monday 🙏
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r-truth · 5 months
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joeyvotto · 5 months
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we dont worship punk we actually worship our dear mutual dilf in peril
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moodooivy · 8 days
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Lust verse
You are getting no context for anyone. You're welcome. I was gonna make the fell verse first, but I'm still working on it. So here you go.
Lust Nightmare is Chimera. His Salt equivalent is Calamity.
Fell Error is Duress. His Salt equivalent is Dervish.
Lust Cross is Ravish. His Salt equivalent is Reverie.
Lust Dust is Smut. His Salt equivalent is Soot.
Lust Killer is Erotic. His Salt equivalent is Estrus.
Lust Horror is Hound. His Salt equivalent is Husky.
Lust Dream is Nagana. His Salt equivalent is Nemesia.
Lust Ink is Vulgar. His Salt equivalent is Vulsa.
Lust Blue is Acai. His Salt equivalent is Acre.
Lust Fell is Roust. His Salt equivalent is Rouge.
Lust Ccino is Latte. His Salt equivalent is Leche.
Lust Geno is Homi. His Salt equivalent is Hope.
Lust Reaper is Cupid. His Salt equivalent is Cubic.
Lust Fresh is Punk. His Salt equivalent is Probe.
Lust Science is Anatomy. His Salt equivalent is Amaryllis. Lust Ivan is Duke. Lust Midnight is Lunacy. Lust Chip is Lilith. Lust Zany is Peril. Lust Domino is Baccarat. Lust Desire is Caramel. Lust Pitaya is Grape. Lust Honeydew is Lemon. Lust Constellation is Bellatrix. Lust Casper is Blitz. Lust Dread is Fuchsia. Lust Scarlet is Menstrual. Lust Abstract is Mascara.
Btw, please nobody spam "Ugh, I hate what the fandom has done" I don't wanna hear it.
Undertale: Toby Fox
Blue: Popcornpr1nce
Ink: Comyet
Dream: Jokublog
Nightmare: Jokublog
Geno: Crayonqueen
Error: Crayonqueen
Fresh: Crayonqueen
Horror: Sour-Apple-Studios
Killer: Rahafwabas
Dust: Ask-Dusttale
Fell: Undertale community
Reaper: Renrink
Science: HolyTraitor
Cross: Jakei95
Ccino: Black-Nyanko
Ivan, Midnight, Zany, Chip, Domino, Mayonnaise, Pitaya, Honeydew, Constellation, Casper, Dread, Scarlet, Astract: Me
Lust Verse: Me
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kookoofufu · 6 months
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i'm GEEKIN!! This spread, which can now be found in Color Walk 7, was a promotional board game for Film Z with paper dice, rules, etc. It features chibi straw hats in their Z outfits navigating a perilous island of chibi antagonists ranging from Mihawk to Blackbeard to Z himself. I'm guessing Law is an antagonist since audiences didn't know if he was trustworthy during Punk Hazard, which debuted that year. Hancock, Nami and Robin being the prize is... a choice... but the end product is so darn cute I don't really care.
Here are a few little guys. The first spread is higher quality but the text gets in the way of a perfect crop. Might make more of these.
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I found the rules from this reddit user. Can anyone translate?
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i-did-not-mean-to · 5 months
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Fairytale
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I feel like this might be another suggestion by MoonLord, hmmm...
Either way, have Fingon as Snow White (stealing his sister's epithet) and a subversion of a handful of fairytale tropes!
Characters: Fingon x Maedhros, Maglor, and the other punks
Words: 2 125
Warnings: diffuse sense of dread, a curse, fairytale elements...
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Fingon had run for so long that he was now barely strong enough to keep walking—however, something dark and dangerous had taken over his kingdom and home, and he had thought it necessary to flee in search of assistance and council.
Of course, he felt considerably guilty about his younger siblings whom he had left at the mercy of whatever terrible power had encroached upon their realm, but he simply had not seen any other solution.
When he was ready to succumb to the paralysing weariness that had crept into his very bones and lie down, ultimately and irrevocably vanquished by the threateningly looming peril, he glimpsed a thin column of smoke in the distance.
Pushing through the ever-shifting, distinctly unnatural forest that seemed to watch his every tortured step, he strove towards that flimsy promise of sanctuary and salvation stubbornly; at last, he felt an echo of long-lost hope surge within him, and he was determined not to lose his way again.
After everything he had lived through, it was probably naïve to expect whoever had started the fire at the source of the hearteningly dense cloud of smoke to be a friend rather than a foe, but he could not let himself be discouraged now.
Everything had changed since his father, the King, had been overcome by a strange confusion that had fatally addled his mind and dampened his prodigious intellectual acuity as well as his physical strength.
As his son and heir, Fingon had to act—he couldn’t simply stand by as his land and people fell under the spell of the ruinous devastation that was assailing them with relentless fervour.
All but falling down a steep ravine, marbled with gnarled roots and poisonous plants, he finally found himself in front of a small cottage.
“Hello?” he called, casting caution to the wind, as he struggled to his feet slowly. He was tired and sore, his every muscle ached, and his heart clenched painfully at the thought of those he had deserted so callously.
Muted whispers resounded from behind the intricately carven door—the tone and speed of the unintelligible words told Fingon two things: first, there was more than one inhabitant, and second, they were just as surprised to have a visitor as he was to have stumbled upon such a beautiful building in the very heart of an enchanted wood.
Dread replaced the soothing sensation of relief that had assuaged Fingon’s many-layered suffering. Surely, he now considered, creatures who had to retreat so far from all vestiges of civilisation and company had something to hide.
Mayhap, they were monsters or worse who fed on exhausted travellers and lost wanderers—after all, if anyone got sucked into the compelling, merciless magic of the surrounding landscape as deeply as he had, it was highly improbable that they’d ever find their way out again.
Instinctively, his hand flew to his hip to draw the short dagger, dangling from his belt, that his father had given him for his name day a few years prior—he loved and cherished the weapon, and he trusted that he would be able to summon enough strength to take at least one or two of the unseen strangers along with him to the beyond if they were to attack him.
“You go,” someone hissed, and then a shutter was pushed open just a smidgen.
Fingon could make out a pair of flashing eyes, then another one, and another one, and his stomach dropped.
“He’s drawn a knife and all,” another voice, rough and impatient, resounded. “Maybe we should go out armed too?”
“You stay there! I shall go.” The finality in the melodious but stern voice made Fingon cock his head in visceral curiosity—his visions of horrifying ogres melted into images of alluring sirens, and he stepped back into the rapidly dwindling pool of fading light flooding the small clearing he had just crossed.
Shifting into a defensive stance, he raised his blade and waited.
When the door opened, he could not hold back the gasp of astonishment that burst from his throat like a sudden rain shower. No matter what vague ideas he had entertained in the torturous moments of ignorance, he would never have been able to foresee the blinding beauty of the being in front of him.
“You have travelled far; you must be weary.” Lifting lily-white hands, the man—for superficially, there was no indication of any kind of monstrosity or perversion—spoke in that self-same calm tone that had soothed and baffled Fingon previously. “My name is Maedhros.”
Fingon smiled graciously at that lie—he had been the King’s son for too long not to be intimately familiar with that minute shift in inflexion and stature that invariably betrayed a half-truth. He did not doubt that the name given was one that was used by the mysterious entity in front of him—shining like gilded marble in the warm evening light—but he was also certain that it was not the one he used for himself, inside his mind.
“Fingon,” he said, bowing low. If Maedhros was not willing to divulge his true identity and purpose, he did not see any reason to introduce himself with his official name and title either. “I must have gotten turned around somewhere.”
“Where did you want to go?” Gentle mockery lay in Maedhros’s voice now—he evidently was supremely aware of the pitfalls and elusive threats of his forest and had no qualms about letting Fingon know that he doubted the veracity of his words.
“Nowhere,” Fingon chuckled wryly. “I wanted to get away from…It doesn’t matter. You do not happen to know where I could find a sage or a witch perchance?”
Cocking his head slowly, Maedhros let his long hair cascade across his shoulder like a curtain of dancing fire as he pondered the question.
“No,” he finally admitted. “My brothers and I have lived in these woods, guarded by ruthless guardians of stone and bark, for many a sweltering summer and blistering winter, but we have yet to encounter someone fitting that description.”
His bright grey eyes gleamed with sympathy and something darker that reminded Fingon of bone-deep sadness. “I am afraid we cannot help you,” Maedhros went on, his feet already shuffling against the soft grass to turn back to the cottage. “You’ve found the wrong people if it is assistance and succour you seek.”
Flinching as his vague quest was summed up so simply by another, Fingon took a step towards the tall, handsome stranger and—in a moment of utter folly—took that long-fingered, cool hand into his own to keep him from retreating.
“Why are you here then? It is evident that you have divined my motives with disturbing ease, but you’ve also said that you and yours have been confined to this prison of isolation and regret for quite some time. Why don’t you leave?”
“Because we are cursed,” another voice resounded, and Fingon’s head snapped back to the cottage. In the impenetrable shadow of the gloomy hall beyond the open door, he could only barely make out the outline of another being—shorter but just as shapely as far as he could tell—and turned to Maedhros in alarm.
“How many of you are there?”
“Seven, me included,” Maedhros sighed and tried to withdraw his hand; when Fingon would not release it, he soon stopped struggling. “Do not let Maglor’s artful lamentations fool you—we have committed grievous misdeeds. It was to protect others from our reckless folly that we’ve been banished…”
His gaze was pleading now as he shifted as if to shield Fingon from the piercing eyes that flashed like gemstones in the darkness within the picturesque but vaguely unsettling home. “Save yourself…”
They had been banished, Fingon thought, but he had fled like a thief in the night, not even risking the hopeless, crazed fight against an unknown, menacing fate.
“Will you always stay here? Is there nothing you can do?” he asked instead. He and the man whose hand he was still cradling in his own broad palm were almost dancing now—Fingon tried to get a good view of the inside of the house while Maedhros seemed intent on denying him just that.
“There are stipulations,” someone called from behind, “but Nelyo refuses to let us even try to fulfil the conditions.”
Before Fingon could make the gorgeous ginger explain further, a shadow coalesced into the solid form of a man and floated towards them, an affable smile on his sensual, full lips.
“No matter how you feel about the terms,” the newcomer purred, and Fingon was struck dumb by how curiously full and rich his voice was, “this man is tired and hungry. Let him come in and rest—what harm could even we do him with a bowl of fresh stew? We are not monsters—at least, you are not—and we shall obey your words.”
A flash of pain and regret rippled across the pale, freckled face of his reluctant potential host while Fingon tried to suppress the desperate yearning that the flippant suggestion of warm food and a place to sit down in peace had awoken in his chest.
“Maglor, at your service,” the soft-faced siren spoke charmingly. “I promise that Curvo is a better cook than an entertainer, and yes, Moryo is always that morose—it’s not because he doesn’t like you.”
“Stop,” Maedhros groaned, but Maglor had already pulled Fingon away from him and towards the house. “Let me introduce you to the brood. You’ve already met Nelyo—he’s the oldest, and he was literally named for his beauty.”
Fingon had the strange sensation that he was being lulled by the potent spell of the charming words pouring from Maglor’s lips like sweet water, but—in his weakened state—he could not even resist the mellow, unceasing draw of the open door from whence a mouth-wateringly delicious smell now billowed into the quickly cooling air.
“Káno, I beg you,” Maedhros called. “He is…You don’t know what you’re doing…” He hastened after the retreating pair to wrench the clueless victim of the vindictive forest from his brother’s perfectly manicured claws.
Just beyond the threshold though, he was halted by two pairs of hands clamping down on his arms.
“Prince Findekáno,” one of the twins, the youngest and least fatalistically pessimistic of the brood, hissed.
“He could be the answer to our prayers!”
“No, he could not. Let him go!” Maedhros groaned, tearing himself free, and nearly lunged into the small kitchen to save Fingon from the terrible turn in his destiny that would inexorably occur as soon as he got himself entangled with these accursed exiles.
To his visible dismay, Fingon had been offered the best seat in the house and was already nursing a mug full of warm tea while eyeing a platter of cookies covetously—Maedhros knew that his brothers would have bitten one another for taking even a single crumb more than was allotted to any one of them, but they all seemed happy to let their unexpected guest eat his fill.
The scene—calm, domestic, deceivingly joyous—made Maedhros’s skin break out in goosebumps; he knew just how seductively charming all of them could be, and he was tragically aware of how lethal that magnetic charisma usually turned out to be for innocent bystanders.
“Fingon,” he called warningly. “Do not believe them—this is not safe!” He was condemning himself to a lifetime of solitude and misery, he knew, but he preferred to stew in his culpability until either his sorrow or his siblings ate him alive rather than add to the pile of ashes their indomitable fire had already amassed.
“No,” Fingon laughed and took another deep swig of his tea. “I don’t think I will—I think I’ve found exactly what I needed.” He knew not why he had said that, but—in his heart of hearts—he was sure that he had spoken true. Somehow, the unfathomable and quite possibly wicked magic of the forest had led him straight to this house, and he simply could not ignore such an intervention by superior powers.
“What are the terms?” he then asked quietly—the whole room seemed to petrify into a stasis of shock and solicitude.
“The usual,” Maedhros laughed mirthlessly. “True love, true selflessness, true sacrifice—basically, we have to overcome our wicked nature to help someone else without expecting or accepting any form of gratitude or payment. You do not know who we are, but…it’s as likely as to ask a pear tree to bear apples in winter.”
“Oh,” Fingon grinned sharply, “but I do know. We have been looking for you—where exactly is Fëanor now?”
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Thank you so much for reading <3
-> Masterlist for November (by @cilil)
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