8 Works by pumpkinsnek
Listing Works
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Summary
Spamton took a breath, but he couldn’t get enough air. He took a step back. This was a mistake. He didn’t just spawn into existence, he was missing...something. These people knew him, knew about him, and none of what they knew seemed to be good. He had to recover from this, somehow, convince them that this was fine –
"Spamton, what's my name?" the blue one asked.
Well, shit.
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Everyone tries to figure out what to do with Spamton after he goes through a factory reset.Based on the factory settings au by starridge on tumblr!
Series
- Part 1 of Not-So Fresh (re)Start
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A Comic for Pumpkinsneks Fanfiction Not-So Fresh (re)Start
Series
- Part 2 of Not-So Fresh (re)Start
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“What have you got to lose?” The question was just the means to an end. Only to distract Chad long enough so Rex could kill him. That was all. (it wasn’t)
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Barnaby can't make rent this month.
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Alex didn’t move. Morgan studied them suspiciously. Alex was curled up with their face pressed into the side of the passenger seat. Their body was half-folded and their arms were tucked in front of them, but Morgan knew, they just KNEW, that Alex wasn’t actually asleep.
Rating is only for Morgan's language.
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Alex decided to pry. “Where did you get the money to buy an engine like that? And don’t tell me it was the hotel; you and I both know that’s not possible.”
Morgan just smirked and stoked the fire. “I’m pretty good at tressette, and Rex Roofer is a pretty wealthy guy. Or, at least, he was.”
'That explains why he was trying to kill you,' Alex thought.
Morgan quirked their eyebrows and cocked their head to the side. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen or heard from him in a while.” It was a statement, but Morgan did a pretty good job making it sound like a question.
“Huh. Weird,” Alex remarked a little too quickly. They leaned over their chair to grab the other bottle of wine, hiding their expression from Morgan. Alex always did have a useless poker face.
Porco Rosso inspired AU (Seaplane pilots in Sorrento, Italy, circa 1930s during the rise of fascism.)
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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Alex was the one who was supposed to fall to pieces. Morgan was supposed to be the one who was always fine.
This wasn’t fine.
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Morgan studied their cards. They had a few houses on Kentucky and Indiana, and a hotel on Illinois. (Yes, rent was higher on Kentucky, but their brother happened to land on Illinois quite a few times now, and god was that satisfying.)
Morgan steeled themself. They knew what they had to do.
“Hey, Taylor. Want a monopoly?” Morgan waved their red cards at her.
Taylor’s eyes went as wide as saucers. She looked down at Park Place and then up at Morgan’s offer.
A childhood memory. Morgan is a good sibling.