No Wonder

*rattles a metal cup filled with beans at you* hugs? Hugs for the poor?

im bored and i have no shame so here have this entirely unedited draft that i’ll probably never finish

“You two don’t sit still much, do you?” 

Phil watched the two boys carefully. The taller one looks ready to bolt, or possibly attack Phil if it came to that. He’s wiry, barely an ounce of meat on him, fear poorly hidden by anger on his dirty face and a hand tucked into his friend’s. His clothes aren’t anywhere close to new or even clean. Phil took in the worn shirt and wondered if one of Wilbur’s old shirts would fit him. The little one looked a bit less world worn, if only because he’s less gaunt. By the way the taller was poised to react if Phil made some wrong move, he could guess that he must have been the protector. Phil wouldn’t be surprised if he gave most of his food to his friend when times were lean. 

The short one was looking at Phil with a politely neutral expression. It was a facade though, Phil realized. His eyes had a familiar observant intensity. Phil smiled, reminded of a boy with pink hair who’d looked at him the same way. 

“No sir,” the little one answered. 

Phil keeps his face even and lets himself be judged. The short one spares a glance at his friend, hardly taking his eyes off of Phil for more than a few seconds, and Phil watches the two boys have an entire conversation in front of him without uttering a word. He catches the head tilt of a question, and barely keeps from laughing out loud at hearing the little one mumble, “I can’t understand you when you look at me like that.”

Eventually, their conversation reaches its conclusion because now the tall one is looking at him with loaded and hesitant hope and the little one turns back to Phil with the air of a businessman. 

“Do you have anything that needs fixing at your house?” 

He doesn’t ask anything else. Not for food or shelter or even pay for the labor. And oh, Phil wants to pull them both into his arms and give them the chance to forget the ways they’ve learned to keep themselves alive. But he can’t. Not yet. They’re too wary, too tired now to accept the possibility of rest, so he pretends to look thoughtful for a moment. 

“The garden is about ready. Big harvest this year; I doubt I could pull it all in by myself. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He doesn’t mention that he has two helpers waiting at home, nor that age has never really made a dent in his ability. 

“We’re good with gardening,” the taller one says, finally speaking up now that Phil has apparently been deemed mostly harmless.

“Harvesting, at least,” the shorter one interjects.

“Yeah. Never could get anything to grow on our own, but we’ve helped with plenty of harvests.”

“That’s good. I can pay you and feed you if you’ll give me a little help.”

The boys’ eyes get a bit brighter, and the short one nods enthusiastically. 

“My house is this way. It’s a bit into the woods; can you walk that far?”

The tall one apparently takes offense to that, because he huffs and pulls on his friend's hand, speeding up and walking ahead of Phil towards the woods. The smaller one looks back at Phil, who smiles goodnaturedly, and then turns back to follow his friend. Phil follows at a distance. He won’t begrudge these two their independence. They’ve been through too much to be patronized, even by genuine concern for them. 

Soon though, they reach the edge of the woods and slow down, realizing they don’t know the way. They’re startled by Phil draping his cloak over their shoulders. He couldn’t help it; they looked so cold. And it felt better to do something instead of just wondering how often they slept outside in this weather. The shorter looked down in shock, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. The tall one looked at Phil with something between accusation and confusion. His eyes widened when Phil walked past, though. Phil smiled, a bit of mischief in his eyes as the tall one nudged his friend without looking away and suddenly there were two sets of eyes staring in awe at the large wings on Phil’s back. 

“It’s this way,” Phil said, gesturing for the boys to follow.

“You have wings!” The tall one shouted.

“Can you fly?” The other asked.

“Not here, the trees are too low. I’d have to go over.”

“You can fly!” That was the tall one again.

“Thanks mate, I noticed.”

He didn’t miss another wordless exchange between the two, but he didn’t bother wondering what it was about.

“What should I call you?” He asked, letting the conversation drift away from his wings. Surprisingly, the taller took no time to answer.

“Tommy. This is Tubbo.”

“Tommy,” Tubbo scolded, for some reason.

“Tubbo, huh?” Phil asked. 

“Sorry sir. It’s… Toby. My name is Toby.”

Tommy looked upset at that. 

“I can call you what you like. Do you prefer Tubbo?”

Tubbo looked surprised, but Tommy answered for him.

“He does.”

Tubbo looked at Phil apprehensively. Apparently deciding that Phil was being genuine, he nodded shyly.

“Tubbo it is then.” 

They walked for a while, Phil leading at little more than an amble, and the two boys trailing behind him, whispering excitedly and glancing at his wings, and sharing the cloak between them. 

They reached the house by the time the sun was almost down. The horses were missing from their small stable, which meant that techno and will were still out. That was probably good. Phil didn’t want to overwhelm the two boys. He ushered them inside, not missing how they were trying to hide their shivering, especially Tommy. 

“The garden is out back. We can work on it tomorrow,” Phil said.

“Tommy and I can work on it tonight if you want,” Tubbo offered.

“It can wait. We can have dinner for now. May as well rest while it’s dark.”

i’m always soft for damien. he’s so sweet :’)

Winnie the pooh au? Idk, just wilbear soot and raccooninnit and crowza and techno pig and tubbgoat and catboo vibing in the woods. Their Christopher Robin is just Chat. Techno is the biggest and has some grey spots because I said so. Tommy gets dirty and damaged more than any of the others. He has a little bandana around his neck. Wilbur is the softest and he has a little guitar.

Accidentally spent the past fifteen hours running through the same storyline daydream over and over. Oops

Drew some sketches of Jackie, Marvin, and JJ!

@taikeero-lecoredier @therealjacksepticeye

I love 1 Magic Man

Also the boys are available as stickers on my RedBubble!

And they’ll be available as button pins soon!

@taikeero-lecoredier @immabethehero

Artwork by @aradchnid

Face of contusions

Jackie pulled his grappling gun from his belt, aiming it at a faraway building. He jumped off the ledge of the building he was standing on, pulling the trigger on his gun. A rope shot out, hooking onto the metal fire escape. He swung over the streets below, landing on the steps of one of the escape landings, going up a few flights. He stopped at a particular window, the curtains pulled tightly over the pane. He slid it open, quietly slipping into the apartment. He started walking around the apartment, digging through cupboards, looking for a first aid kit.

The hero felt something cold touch the back of his head, along with a click.

“Stand up slowly,” said a voice behind him, “hands up, don’t try anything.”

Jackie obeyed, raising his hands above his head, standing up. The object, presumably a gun, was removed from the back of his head.

“Turn around.”

He did, slowly, not wanting to make the other believe he would attack. He wasn’t surprised to see that there was, in fact, a gun in the person’s hands, nor was he surprised that the gun was still pointed at him.

“Who are you? Why are you here? How did you even get in??” the man asked quickly, not lowering the gun at all. If anything, he raised it more.

Jackie opened his mouth to speak, his hand flying to cover his mouth as he coughed wildly, nearly falling to the floor.

“Look, I can explain this all… But please,” he started coughing again, “Please, let me have a first aid kit, I’m hurt. Badly.”

The man reluctantly lowered his gun, slipping it into his holster with a sigh. He motioned for the hero to follow him, walking down a hallway. Jackie slowly followed him, having to steady himself on the wall, careful to not get any blood on it. He finally caught up to the other, who was standing in front of a door, waiting for the hero.

“There’s a kit in the cabinet, hurry up. I want answers.” he said sternly, opening the door and stepping to the side. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, eyeing the red clad man.

Jackie nodded in response, stumbling into the room. He closed the door behind himself, walking to the sink and opening the medicine cabinet. He digs through the cabinet, pushing past medicines to get to the kit. He hopped up onto the bathroom counter, pulling out the kit and shutting the cabinet. He pops open the kit, placing it down next to himself.

- - - -

Jackie walked out of the bathroom, his suit hood pulled down, but his mask remained on his face.

“Okay, look, Chase-” he started.

“How do you know my name!?” The other- Chase- interrupted, taking out his gun again, scared.

‘Shit…’

The hero sighed and reached up to his face, pulling off his mask, his bright green hair returning back to its natural brown. He looked at Chase worriedly, hoping that he would recognize him.

Chase gasped, his eyes going wide as he dropped the gun. He took a few steps forward, gently grabbing Jackie’s arm.

“J-Jackie?” he stuttered out, shocked, “I…. Y-You… You’re a superhero!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Chase–” he was interrupted again.

“No! Jackie you should’ve told me! You shouldn’t be out there doing what you think is best! You can’t just… You can’t risk your life like this! I was so fucking worried after you disappeared, I didn’t know where you went- Hell, I didn’t even know if you were alive!!” he shouted, his voice beginning to break. Tears welled up in Chase’s eyes, but he didn’t care. He grabbed Jackie’s other arm, shaking him slightly.

“Jackie, you left. You left all of us without e-even saying anything! You didn’t even tell me goodbye! I thought you hated me- h-hated us…”

Tears started to fall from Chase’s eyes, his sobs echoing through the corridor. Jackie slowly wraps his arms around the father, trying to console him.

“Chase… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to do that… I just… I didn’t want to bother you… You were always so busy with Stacy and Sammy… I didn’t think you even cared.”

“Well I did.. Still do… I always wil–”  Chase gets interrupted as he yelped, the hero lifting the father off the ground.

“J-JACKIE..! PUT ME DOWN!!” he shouted, struggling, trying to get out of the other’s arms. Jackie just hummed, starting to walk back to the living room. He ignored his wounds, caring more about comforting his friend than making sure he was okay. He plopped down on the couch with Chase, lying the smaller man on top of him. He slowly ran a hand through the other’s hair, holding him close.

“Its late, and you need to sleep. So, I’m going to hold you captive to make you sleep, and you cannot stop me.”

Chase just huffed, but didn’t complain; Jackie was warm, and he missed his best friend. They soon both fell asleep, just like that, not having much a care in the world.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!!! SPOOKS FOR ALL!!!!

I’d thought I’d draw what I’m dressing up as!!

I’m sorry if I don’t know how to draw a gun, this is my first time!!!

Reference from: @inspiredrawaw

Time’s Arrow neither stands still nor reverses, it merely marches forward.

@markiplier @crankgameplays