“Dóń'̵t̨ ̸y͏ou̵ D̵A̶RE ̢lay A̸n͏o̸t̢h͞e̡r͟ ҉f̵iņģer̶ On̴ My B̧r͡othe͟rs͠!

O.o wifyqbd8du I You- HEH!? I Oh god hi 😅😂 I uh mostly reblog stuff because I my motivation says yeet oh god I just woke up to this @beerecordings

How cute

tiny hug

(via)

Been havin artblock lately so did a messy doodle of a happy boi

"Why are you resisting?" Anti please!

Green – red – white – black – The world around him had been swallowed up in those clashing, blinding colors. Jameson’s eyes and ears were pounding, stirring hot sparks of pain as he shook his head against the intrusion, but it felt as if the more he fought it, the harder it became to form his own thoughts. Worse, the monster was turning them against him, whispering them back in the static as his words.

Not…a puppet!

“A pu̡p̨̧p̵̵̶e̵͟͜t…A pup̡̕͡ṕ̸͞ȩt…”

Leave me…alone…

“A͡l͜o͏͘n̡͡e…A͜͢lwa̸̵ỳs͜ ̶̧͡a̡lơņ̵e…”

With every passing moment he could feel his body falling number and limper in Anti’s grasp, knees buckling. With mocking gentleness Anti lowered him down, letting him kneel. Using what little strength he had left, Jameson shook his heavy head once more, slurring something too garbled and pained for his speech slides to catch. Green, red, white, black –

“Why͜ aŕ̀e͘ ̨ỳơu̶̶ r̛es͟i̧͜͠s̨̀t͏͏͢i̵̕n͡g͠? T͠͡he p̴á͠i̧n͢ ̴oņ̀͡l͘͟y la̛şt̸͢͡s͞ ̡͡a͜s̢ lon̴̢g͝ ą̵͘ş̢ yo̵u ̷f͠i̡g͠h̴͘t ̷i̸̡t̷̀, b͞҉͠oy.” 

With the faintest of strokes to Jameson’s cheek, the static changed, drawing a faint gasp. It smoothed and quickened within him, pouring to the tips of his toes and filling him to the crown of his head. At the very edge of his mind, however, there was a gap, a gap that hurt – the last resistance. It hammered between his eyes, aching, screaming. He stood on a precipice with a wave of static frozen over him. Green, red, white, black –

The wave…It would feel so good, it would soothe that last pain.

Green – red – white – black.

W̶e̴à͠k̀͜ – b͜͏l͢e̸̶̕e͏ḑ – f̡̡́ơ͘r͢ge̴̛t – s͜le̴e̡p.

The wave crashed and he drowned in it.

I feel save with it so I still sleep with them

If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.

My friend is embarrassed and thinks she’s the only one and I said id prove her wrong.

O-O okay good to know

fun obscure ego fact: anti's favorite type of alcohol..........

is ✨ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒏 ✨

Mob AU: Jameson Jackson

Next up: My favorite boy JJ! Again based on @pistachiolan‘s brilliant mob au. You can find the character art here! I absolutely adore his prim and proper look hiding the usual septic attitude. 

(Masterpost)

Jameson hums wordlessly to himself as he dries wineglasses with quick, sure hands. The bar is alive around him - people everywhere, talking, laughing, drinking. It is as if prohibition never happened - here, people are free to let loose their inhibitions.

Here, Jameson catches every word of what is being said.

“My brother said he saw some men moving about down by the river, throwing stuff into the water. Yeah, like boxes. No, of course he didn’t go to check!”

River. Few days ago. None of their shipment’s go that way.

“I love this place. Much better than the one over by Ridgeworth park!”

Rival bar, huh? not for long.

“I don’t know, I haven’t heard from them for weeks. What if something’s happened?”

Missing person. Possible kidnappning. Every drop of information, gathered, catalogued, packed away in his memory for later.

“Ey, barkeep, a glass of the raspberry beer, please.” Jameson turned and smiled, pouring the girl a beer. She smiled, thanked him, and handed over her payment without fuzz. Jameson took it to the till, put the money in its slot and hid the tiny slip of paper in the hidden compartment under the bench. 

“Thank you for your patronage,” He signed at the girl, and she signed back a thank you as well before heading to sit down at one of the rowdier tables, that welcomed her with cheers and laughter.

Nice girl, that one. Quick, polite, with eyes like a fox. Always good for what she got. He’d have to make sure to give her a raise.

Jameson turned back to his wineglass, bringing it up to the light to catch any stray droplets of water. 

He never missed a spot, after all.

Jameson Jackson is Chase’s left hand, in charge of the spy network and information gathering that the Family needs. If something is happening in the city, he knows it - and if he knows, Chase knows. He is stationed at The Septic eye, acting as the owner and bartender of one of the oldest resturants in the city in daylight, and the biggest speakeasy in town at night. The fact that it belongs to the Family is a closely guarded secret.

Jameson is an educated man, learnt in history and literature. His memory is as sharp as his mind, able to recall conversations and information with pinpoint accuracy. He was born mute - a deformation to his throat in the womb means he was never able to make any sound more complicated than simple humming. He communicates through writing and sign language.

Jameson came to the city alone and unafraid, working what jobs he could find. One day, an overheard conversation changed his life. Chase had just stepped in as the new leader of the Family - plots against him were many and varied. The one Jameson happened to overhear was a serious one, discussed between two of Chase’s father’s oldest friends. Jameson saw the opportunity and picked a side in that moment - choosing to stand with Chase and inform him of the plot with evidence in hand.

After that, Chase put him in charge of information gathering and the rest, as they say, is history.

The mute… he looks harmless, but those eyes are always watching. His hands flutter with strange signs. Keep your guard up around him, kid - you never know who will hear you.

befuddled, swapped jackie and anyone you want

His hands were gentle against James’ temples, holding his head up and steady so they could keep their eyes locked. Janson’s chest tightened at the fatigue and sadness staring back at him, now hazing over with a thin layer of static. 

“Kee͘p your ̴e̛yes ̴on m͝e,” he instructed softly. “W͠a͠t͢c̢h the ͠s͜tatic̢ sh͠ift…It’s ͜s͜o͝ot̀h͜in͠g to ̴watch, ̕isn’t it? Let yo͏urs̵elf ̷sl̶ip d͡eep̡er a̢nd d͏èe͜pe͞r̴ i̧nto cal͝m and peace. Si͜ņk̵ ̴d̨ow̨n. Let y͜our̡ ̵stressful thoųgh̸ts haz͠e ͢ove̛r͡…You don’t need them right now.” He waited a beat, watching the younger Ego’s eyes fall half-closed, and then questioned, “W̴h̨at w̢as ̧u̧p̕s̛e̛ţtin͢g̡ you, James?”

He blinked sluggishly, lips barely moving as he mumbled. “Dunno…Can’t ’member right now…S’all fuzzy.”

Relief tingled down Janson’s spine at the words. “Good. Go̵ǫd̨. Those thoughts wi͡l͠l s͢ţa̷y̛ ͡fa̴r, fa͏r͝ àwa͝y̕ ̀u͘n̛til you’ve had a nice, ŗefr̢e͠sḩi̧n͠ǵ ̴nap. Let'̢s̵ ̴foc͡u̶s o͏n ̧tha̛t.”

I’m not super proud with how this turned out and I might have to redraw it, but at least I finally did it! I drew all the Demon Blood Bois :,,,,D

@lilyenderborn it has been done

hey, lets get some food going, we got a new family member to welcome!