Latest Posts by maztak - Page 2

Interesting I would also like to add to this that maybe Stanford still doesn’t believe what his father told him and makes it his mission to look for his brother that is an impossible task which slowly drives him insane

Alright hear me out…just…J-JUST HEAR ME OUT!

What if Stanley Pines never existed and Stanford was an only child but to him he wasn’t to him he was born with a twin.

Allow me to elaborate

As long as Stanford could remember he always had a twin brother they did everything together Stanley protected him from bullies, comforted him, helped him with the Stan-O-War. Everything goes almost according to cannon but one thing is missing and thats Stanley because he is just a physical manifestation of Stanford’s imagination that means only Ford can see Stanley but he assumes everyone else can too, and well his parents didn’t see much to be concerned about a lot of kids Ford’s age had imaginary friends so they…mostly Caryn let her son believe while she forced Filbrick to also play along because Stanford is just a kid.

But everything comes to a head when the science fair rolls around and for once it wasn’t tampered with by any human anyway, but more along the lines of a rat chewing the wires but Stanford is admit that Stanley sabotaged his project but his twin brother so when he heads home madder then a hornet and excepting to see Stanley there but his brother is no where to be found so he tells his parents and well…lets just say Filbrick didn’t take the information well assuming that Stanford destroyed his own project and costing them potential millions, he decides to finally shatter Stanford’s whole world by telling him Stanley never existed.

Now Stanford is mad at his brother sure but even he thinks his father saying Stanley no longer exists is a bit harsh and argues with his father till Filbrick takes out a photo album and slams it open on the coffee table revealing a bunch of pictures which were supposed to be of Stanford and Stanley but something wasn’t right…

Stanford’s blood would run cold when he sees he is alone in every picture Stanley isn’t were he is supposed to be which can’t be right because he knows his brother was there he remembers everything they did together his father had to have tampered with the pictures!

Long story short Stanford is kicked out of the house he is no longer considered a Pines due to his stupidity as his father puts it.

Feel free to expand on this if you like, this all was just something i thought of during the night and just had to get it out there

Alright hear me out…just…J-JUST HEAR ME OUT!

What if Stanley Pines never existed and Stanford was an only child but to him he wasn’t to him he was born with a twin.

Allow me to elaborate

As long as Stanford could remember he always had a twin brother they did everything together Stanley protected him from bullies, comforted him, helped him with the Stan-O-War. Everything goes almost according to cannon but one thing is missing and thats Stanley because he is just a physical manifestation of Stanford’s imagination that means only Ford can see Stanley but he assumes everyone else can too, and well his parents didn’t see much to be concerned about a lot of kids Ford’s age had imaginary friends so they…mostly Caryn let her son believe while she forced Filbrick to also play along because Stanford is just a kid.

But everything comes to a head when the science fair rolls around and for once it wasn’t tampered with by any human anyway, but more along the lines of a rat chewing the wires but Stanford is admit that Stanley sabotaged his project but his twin brother so when he heads home madder then a hornet and excepting to see Stanley there but his brother is no where to be found so he tells his parents and well…lets just say Filbrick didn’t take the information well assuming that Stanford destroyed his own project and costing them potential millions, he decides to finally shatter Stanford’s whole world by telling him Stanley never existed.

Now Stanford is mad at his brother sure but even he thinks his father saying Stanley no longer exists is a bit harsh and argues with his father till Filbrick takes out a photo album and slams it open on the coffee table revealing a bunch of pictures which were supposed to be of Stanford and Stanley but something wasn’t right…

Stanford’s blood would run cold when he sees he is alone in every picture Stanley isn’t were he is supposed to be which can’t be right because he knows his brother was there he remembers everything they did together his father had to have tampered with the pictures!

Long story short Stanford is kicked out of the house he is no longer considered a Pines due to his stupidity as his father puts it.

Feel free to expand on this if you like, this all was just something i thought of during the night and just had to get it out there

Oh good im glad you like it @leo-artista It was just a small fun little thing though i do have other ideas for this au if you’d like to hear them

Actually you know what i’ll just put them here for anyone to use just little spit ball of ideas because this little au has so much potential for something great!

Potential Plot Threads

• Ford’s Spiral into Grief: Ford becomes obsessed with finding out more about Stan’s last days, digging into his brother’s life with a desperation that borders on self-destruction. He’s haunted by regret, by questions, by the ache of losing someone he never got to forgive.

• Stan’s Loneliness: As time passes, the weight of his isolation starts to sink in. He sees families together, brothers laughing at a bar, and it hits him—he might’ve escaped his enemies, but in doing so, he’s erased himself from everyone who ever cared.

• The Truth Comes Out: Maybe years later, Ford stumbles across evidence that suggests Stanley never actually died. Maybe he hears rumors of a conman who looks eerily familiar. Maybe a stray postcard with handwriting he recognizes sets him on a path to uncover the truth.

• A Bittersweet Reunion: If Ford does find Stan, it’s not a happy embrace. It’s anger. It’s disbelief. It’s Ford demanding, “Do you have any idea what you put us through?” And Stan, who spent years thinking he was unwanted, suddenly faced with the reality that he was missed more than he ever could’ve imagined.

Random au idea: what if mullet Stan had decided to fake his death so that he'd stop getting chased by Rico's gang? And then it somehow ends up on the news and his family believes that he died- there's like a funeral and everything. Nobody is happy about it, but by far the one who takes it the hardest is Ford. After years of not hearing word from his twin he suddenly finds out he just died, and he has no idea how to feel about that. It's almost like a part of him died along with Stanley

Meanwhile Stan has no idea about what his family is going through because of his faked death. He just assumed that they would probably be fine, since it's not like anyone aside from maybe his mom would care anyways. He even considers it like he's doing them a favor, getting rid of the "useless" son who couldn't even make the fortune he said the would

Idk just an idea. If someone wants to use it or expand on it feel free to do so!

Hmmm alright i’ll take your little idea and run with it because its a damn good one

“Death of a Pines” AU hope you don’t mind that I gave it a name @leo-artista

The plan was simple: fake his death, disappear, and finally be free from Rico’s gang. Stanley Pines had spent too long on the run, always looking over his shoulder, always scrambling for cash, and always one bad deal away from a bullet to the head. The moment he got wind that Rico’s men were closing in, he knew he had to act fast.

A wrecked boat. Some personal belongings left floating in the bay. A perfectly timed storm to wash away the evidence. Just like that, Stanley Pines ceased to exist.

It should’ve been easy. No more bounty on his head. No more desperate cons to make a living. Just a fresh start somewhere far away. But what Stan hadn’t accounted for—hadn’t even considered—was that news of his “death” would actually reach his family.

And that they would mourn him.

The Funeral of a Ghost

The news spreads fast. The body is never found, but the police rule it as a probable drowning. His name makes the papers—Local Man Presumed Dead After Boating Accident—but to the people who once knew him, it means a final, gut-wrenching truth: Stanley Pines is gone.

Ford finds out from a letter his mother sends, written in unsteady, grief-ridden handwriting.

“Stanley is dead, Stanford.”

At first, he doesn’t believe it. He can’t. His twin brother, the force of nature who had always been larger than life, couldn’t be gone just like that. Not after years of silence, not when they had unfinished business, not when Ford had spent so much time resenting him, regretting him, missing him in some twisted, unresolved way.

But then there’s a funeral. A small one. It’s just their mother, a few distant relatives, and some old childhood friends. The family doesn’t have the money for anything extravagant, and frankly, most of them had written Stanley off years ago. But their mother mourns. She clutches a framed picture of her lost son, crying quietly into her hands.

Ford attends, but he stands apart, watching from a distance, unsure if he even has the right to grieve.

And yet, he does. More than he thought possible.

Because if Stanley’s really gone, then that means they’ll never reconcile. Ford will never get to tell him how much he hated him, how much he loved him, how much it still burns that their last words to each other were thrown in anger. It means that all that’s left of his twin is memories—some bitter, some bright, but all of them tangled up in knots of guilt and love.

And now, it’s too late.

Meanwhile, Somewhere Else…

Stan is alive. He’s alive, and for the first time in years, he’s not running.

He takes odd jobs here and there, keeps a low profile, and tells himself this is a good thing. He’s out of his family’s hair. He’s not a burden anymore. They don’t have to deal with the screw-up son who lost everything. Hell, they probably don’t even care. He figures his mom would be a little sad, but she still has Ford, the golden child, the one who actually made something of himself.

And Ford?

Ford probably didn’t even flinch.

So Stan keeps moving, never checking the news, never making contact. He drinks a little too much, sleeps in cheap motels, and tells himself he’s free.

But deep down, in the quiet moments between grifts, he wonders why this freedom feels so much like being buried alive.

Random au idea: what if mullet Stan had decided to fake his death so that he'd stop getting chased by Rico's gang? And then it somehow ends up on the news and his family believes that he died- there's like a funeral and everything. Nobody is happy about it, but by far the one who takes it the hardest is Ford. After years of not hearing word from his twin he suddenly finds out he just died, and he has no idea how to feel about that. It's almost like a part of him died along with Stanley

Meanwhile Stan has no idea about what his family is going through because of his faked death. He just assumed that they would probably be fine, since it's not like anyone aside from maybe his mom would care anyways. He even considers it like he's doing them a favor, getting rid of the "useless" son who couldn't even make the fortune he said the would

Idk just an idea. If someone wants to use it or expand on it feel free to do so!

music mishap

(Ok here is my two cents on what i would do)

I’d probably be a mix of intrigued and wary. He’s got that “I know something you don’t” energy, like he’s about to drop some cryptic wisdom or pull a harmless prank.

I’d hold his gaze for a moment, trying to read his intentions. Maybe tilt my head slightly and say, “Alright, what’s on your mind?” If he stayed quiet, just smirking, I’d probably fold my arms and chuckle. “You look like a man with a plan. Should I be concerned?”

Hey fandom? Do me a favor and caption this. Mostly because Ford being smug is one of my favorite expressions on him. Reblog with what you think would be a great caption!

On a slight tangent, what would you do if he looked at you like this? Might chuck the most popular answer into a new Dating Sim I'm working on.

(Ok i lied its not hypothetical…watch ou- too late)

A plus sized young man with black fading to a brownish red curly almost afro styled hair with bangs that usually covered his cognac eyes wearing a galaxy hoodie, a pair of worn ripped jeans, and purple sneakers was chasing after his dog(?) calling out to it trying to get it to stop but he’s not fast enough because the dog(?) has now tackled a person which just make the young man’s anxiety spike.

“Astral no! Down girl down!” He would call out looping his fingers underneath the dog’s(?) collar and yanking it back or at least attempting to, the strange dog seemed almost twice the size of a great dane “I’m so sorry about this sir, are you alright?” He would ask finally managing to pull the dog(?) off of Stanford only to then hold his hand out in an attempt to help the poor man up.

“I promise she means no harm she just doesn’t realize how big she is and just gets excited easily.”

Question Stanford, hypothetical how would you react if by chance you were tackled by a green and teal fur, with four magenta eyes, lime horns, sabertooth fanged dog(?)…hypothetically speaking of course! Ehehe

“I… what?"

"I mean… I should be fine with it as long as it doesn’t pose a threat to me, or my friends I suppose. That’s certainly an… unusual way to describe a specimen.”

"I don't think anything like it currently even exists, at least not to my knowledge."

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Look buddy, i’m just trying to make it to Friday.

Bashful motherfucker 🥰

God now they have a wizard to go with the cowboy! Why am i cursed with this damn ad!?

It makes me so uncomfortable 😭

FORDUARY WEEK 4: HUG IT OUT

I made this comic ages ago but it fit the theme so well that I just had to redraw it for week 4. I figured a redraw would be relatively quick and easy.

…It was not. T^T

This takes place during Stan’s recovery post-Weirdmageddon. After several days of working to get his memories back, Stan starts to remember his and Ford’s complicated history. Ford is obviously deeply apologetic and tries to reconcile, but he’s also fully prepared for Stan to hate him for what happened between the two of them. Lucky for him, this is Stanley we’re talking about. He was always gonna forgive him; all he ever wanted was his brother back.

Sweater town

Siberian Tiger

A special Valentine delivery for ya’ll ❤️😍

God I need this man to love and cherish me Who said that?!

Old college project that literally made me sick doing due to the stress but im proud of it

Edit: 20 points to anyone who can decipher the code in the background…might be a bit difficult

Childhood Bites Chapter Three: No One Will Miss Him

⚠️TW: Graphic, Blood, Violence, Death, Cannibalism⚠️

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒰ঌ‪‪𐂯‬໒꒱꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

The first hit shattered something.

Zeke wasn’t sure if it was bone or resolve.

The bat connected with Campelter’s ribs, sending a shockwave through Zeke’s arms. The crack was sickening, a sharp, wet sound that mingled with the boy’s scream.

Campelter collapsed onto the dock, curling in on himself. His breath came in ragged gasps. “Zeke—w-wait—”

Another swing.

This time, it caught his knee. Something popped.

Campelter wailed, clutching his leg, writhing on the wooden planks.

Zeke stood over him, bat gripped tight, chest heaving.

This should feel wrong.

He should be shaking, throwing up, panicking.

But he wasn’t.

He was calm. Steady.

And hungry.

The familiar ache twisted in his gut, gnawing at his insides, demanding more. He swallowed hard, his tongue darting over his lips.

Campelter coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth. His good hand reached out, weak and trembling. “P-please…”

Zeke tilted his head.

He should stop.

He could still walk away.

But then he thought of Stan and Ford—how Campelter had tormented them, laughed at them, humiliated them.

And suddenly, the decision wasn’t hard anymore.

Zeke dropped the bat and straddled Campelter’s chest, pinning him down. The other boy squirmed weakly beneath him, his strength draining fast.

Zeke’s breath came slow and deliberate. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against Campelter’s ear. “You smell delicious.”

Then he sank his teeth in.

The taste exploded in his mouth—copper, salt, warmth. The skin split beneath his teeth, muscle tearing as he bit down harder. Campelter’s body jerked violently, his muffled screams ripping through the night.

Zeke didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

He ripped away the first mouthful, blood coating his tongue, thicker than anything he’d ever eaten before.

It was intoxicating.

Campelter’s screams weakened into gasping whimpers. Zeke barely heard him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything except the wet, sticky sounds of chewing.

His fingers dug into Campelter’s flesh, prying open the wound, sinking his teeth into raw muscle, devouring.

Bite after bite.

It was better than food.

Better than anything.

The hunger that had tormented him his whole life, the emptiness in his gut—it was gone.

And for the first time, Zeke felt whole.

Hours Later

The night stretched on, the waves lapping softly against the shore. The wooden dock was painted red, but Zeke didn’t notice.

He sat cross-legged beside what was left.

Which wasn’t much.

Flesh, muscle, organs—all gone.

Picked clean.

His hands were drenched in blood, sticky and drying, his face smeared crimson. His stomach was full, warm, satisfied.

All that remained of Campelter were bones.

Zeke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling slowly.

He stared down at the remains, waiting for guilt to settle in.

Nothing came.

No regret. No horror.

Only the quiet, absolute certainty that this had been worth it.

Campelter had been a bully.

He made Stan and Ford cry.

He hurt people.

No one would notice when he was gone.

Zeke got to his feet, stretching. He glanced down at the bones, tilting his head. He could leave them, let the ocean take them.

But no.

He didn’t like leaving things unfinished.

One by one, he gathered them up, taking his time. The dock was surrounded by tall, wild grass, the kind that no one ever bothered to clear. Zeke buried the bones there, deep in the sand, hidden beneath tangled roots.

It felt right.

Like cleaning up after a good meal.

Weeks go by the summer sun hung high over Glass Shard Beach, casting golden light over the waves. The air smelled of salt and motor oil, the usual scent of work and freedom.

Zeke walked alongside Stan and Ford, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. The three of them were heading toward the shore, where the half-built Stan-O-War sat waiting for its daily dose of fixing, hammering, and general goofing off.

“Okay, hear me out,” Stan said, kicking a loose rock down the sidewalk. “We steal one of Ma’s pies, but we take it before it cools down so she won’t notice it’s missing until, like… way later.”

Ford pushed his glasses up. “That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, because it’s foolproof!”

Ford sighed, shaking his head, and Zeke chuckled softly.

Just a normal day.

But then—

Stan suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Ford followed suit, and Zeke nearly bumped into them.

“What the—?” Zeke started, but then he saw what they were looking at.

A poster.

Taped to a telephone pole, the edges curling from the breeze.

MISSING: CAMPBELL ‘CAMPELTER’ HAYNES.

LAST SEEN AT GLASS SHARD BEACH.

A washed-out photo of his face stared back at them, smiling wide like he hadn’t screamed and begged for his life just weeks ago.

Zeke’s stomach twisted—not in fear, but in satisfaction.

It was almost funny.

Nothing left but bones, buried deep beneath the sand. No one would ever find him.

“Whoa,” Stan muttered, stepping closer. “So, wait—Campelter’s just… gone?”

Ford frowned. “Looks like it. His parents must’ve put these up.”

“Yeah, well, good riddance.” Stan crossed his arms. “That guy was a jerk. Maybe he ran away or something.”

Ford, ever the cautious one, didn’t look so convinced. “I don’t know… He was a bully, but this is weird. People don’t just vanish.”

Zeke felt Ford’s gaze shift toward him, and for a split second, his stomach tightened.

Ford had a way of noticing things.

But Zeke just shrugged, keeping his face neutral. “Guess we won’t have to deal with him anymore.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, no complaints here.”

Ford hesitated, then slowly nodded. “I suppose.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

Zeke let out a slow, careful breath, glancing at the poster one last time.

No one will ever know.

The three of them continued walking toward the Stan-O-War, the conversation already shifting to something else.

Stan was laughing.

Ford was rambling about an idea for an engine upgrade.

And Zeke?

Zeke was still hungry.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

This just seemed like a lot of fun to do, plus this is honestly accurate

Consider yourself tagged if you are reading this:

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz (How Fandom Would See You If You Were A Fictional Character)

Thank you for the tag @machiavellli !

Childhood Bites Chapter Two: The Hunt

⚠️TW: Blood, violence, implied abuse⚠️

꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒰ঌ‪‪𐂯‬໒꒱꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Zeke didn’t sleep that night.

He lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling of his family’s rundown beach house. The air inside was thick with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, the walls too thin to block out his father’s snores from the other room.

His stomach twisted in pain, but he was used to that.

His father’s latest punishment had been a week without food.

Zeke had learned how to ignore the ache, how to push through it. But today, it was worse. Because now, he knew what could make it stop.

His tongue ran over his teeth, the memory of Campelter’s blood still fresh in his mind.

It had been a mistake. An accident. A loss of control.

That’s what he told himself.

The taste hadn’t disgusted him.

It had made him hungry.

He turned onto his side, gripping the old blanket tighter, trying to will the feeling away.

I won’t do it again.

He repeated the thought like a prayer.

I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.

But his stomach growled. His hands trembled. And in the darkness, his eyes flicked toward the corner of the room, where his father’s metal bat leaned against the wall.

The same bat his old man had used on him. Dried blood stained the tip. His own blood.

It had always belonged to his father. A tool of punishment. A reminder of Zeke’s place in the house.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it was his.

The Boathouse

Zeke walked the empty streets of Glass Shard Beach, the bat gripped tight in his hands.

The town was quiet this late at night, only the occasional streetlight flickering. The summer crowd had thinned out, leaving only the locals.

Leaving kids like Campelter free to roam.

Zeke knew exactly where he’d be. The old boathouse near the dunes wasn’t much—just a crumbling shack covered in graffiti—but it was where the older kids went to drink and mess around.

That’s where Zeke found him.

Campelter sat on the dock outside, flipping a lighter open and closed, the flame reflecting in his bored expression. His friends were long gone, leaving him alone.

Perfect.

Zeke stood in the shadows, watching. His heart pounded.

He could still turn back.

He could go home. Forget this. Try to be normal.

But then Campelter shifted, his injured arm catching the moonlight.

The same arm Zeke had bitten.

And just like that, the hunger roared back to life.

His grip on the bat tightened.

Campelter sighed, shaking his head. “I know you’re there, freak.”

Zeke stepped forward, the wooden planks creaking under his weight.

Campelter rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

Zeke’s voice came out quiet. “I don’t know.”

Another lie.

Campelter scoffed. “You here to try and bite me again? Jesus, dude, what is wrong with you?”

Zeke didn’t answer.

His body moved on instinct, stepping closer, closing the distance. The bat in his hand felt heavy. Solid.

Campelter frowned, finally looking at him—really looking at him.

Something in his expression changed.

“…Wait. Are you serious right now?”

Zeke’s breath came faster. The hunger clawed at his insides.

Just go home.

Just walk away.

But his father’s voice echoed in his head.

“You’re nothing. You don’t fight back. You don’t stand up for yourself.”

Zeke’s fingers twitched on the bat.

“You’re weak.”

His jaw clenched.

“You’re always gonna be hungry.”

Zeke swung.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

To Be Continued…

Childhood Bites Chapter One: The Taste of Something Forbidden

⚠️TW: Blood⚠️

꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒰ঌ‪‪𐂯‬໒꒱꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Glass Shard Beach was never truly quiet. The waves crashed against the shore, the salty air thick and ever-present, while the laughter of kids carried on the breeze. But beneath the carefree energy of the season, shadows lurked. For twelve-year-old Ezekiel “Zeke” Cutter, summer was supposed to be an escape. A break from school, from expectations, from the gnawing hunger he didn’t fully understand.

He had always been close to Stanley and Stanford Pines. They were his best friends—the only ones who really mattered. Stan was the loudmouth, always getting into trouble, always bruised but never broken. Ford was the brain, always thinking, always planning. And Zeke? He was the protector, the one who made sure no one messed with them. Which is exactly why, when Campelter started picking on them, Zeke saw red.

Campelter was the worst kind of kid. The kind that smelled like sweat and cheap cologne, who thought he was better than everyone because he was taller, meaner. He had it out for Stan from the moment they met.

“Hey, loser! Where’s your freak of a brother?” Campelter sneered, shoving Stan forward.

Stan stumbled, barely keeping his footing. Ford wasn’t around to bail him out—he was probably off reading somewhere, oblivious.

Zeke clenched his fists. “Back off, Campelter.”

Campelter just grinned. “Or what? You gonna cry about it?”

Zeke’s breath hitched. He could hear it—his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. It wasn’t fear. It was something else. Something deep, something hungry.

Stan’s lip curled as he stepped forward. “I can handle myself, Zeke.”

But Zeke wasn’t listening anymore. Campelter shoved Stan again, laughing, and something inside Zeke snapped.

It happened fast. One moment, Zeke was standing still, watching Campelter grin like he ruled the world. The next, his body moved on instinct. He lunged, teeth bared, sinking them deep into Campelter’s arm.

The taste—

It was—

Indescribable.

Blood filled his mouth, warm and metallic, coating his tongue. Campelter’s scream barely registered as Zeke bit down harder, his entire body trembling.

Then, just as suddenly, he let go.

Campelter stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm, eyes wide with terror. “WHAT THE HELL, YOU PSYCHO?!”

Zeke wiped his mouth, breathing heavily. His head swam, heart racing. What…what had he just done?

Stan and the other kids just stood there, frozen.

“Zeke…” Stan whispered, eyes darting from him to Campelter’s wound.

“I—” Zeke swallowed hard. “I didn’t—”

“You BIT me!” Campelter howled, staggering backward. He was bleeding badly, but it was just a bite. It wouldn’t kill him.

Zeke’s stomach twisted. Not in guilt. Not in fear.

In hunger.

He ran. Didn’t wait for Stan. Didn’t look back. He sprinted toward the bordwalk, lungs burning, hands shaking. His mouth still tasted like blood. It wasn’t disgusting. It wasn’t wrong.

It was good.

But it wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal.

Zeke gripped his head, breathing hard. “No, no, no. I can’t—I won’t—”

But he wanted no he needed more.

And worse?

He knew exactly where to find it…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

To Be Continued…

This is Stanford “Exo” Pines from my half baked au called Exo-Archivist so far its about Stanford willingly going into the portal to explore the multiverse learn everything he possibly can and hopefully go above and beyond any dimensional plain, he never called for Stanley so for all Stan knows his brother is thriving…it’s a better idea then the alternative which he refuses to believe.

I might have gone a little overboard with his design 😅

Oh boy I can't wait to see what kind of posts are in my favorite character's tag! :D

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Sneak peek of what im working on, i don’t know what im gonna call this Stanford or an au for him but i have a small idea

I got some amazing Watchdog Ford fanart from the lovely @maztak and got permission to post it! Just look at this smug little shit, he's definitely plotting against some poor Ford rn.

Thank you again for the stellar art Maz!!!

Oh no it looks like Stanley upset Filbrick again… he hid in the closet Stanford finally found him and now he is gonna patch Stan up like the good brother he is

(I hate that man so much, who wants to kill him with me?)

You know this was inspired by those fidget slugs and honestly its one of my favorite things I ever drawn