#john hancock

[sashimoii]

Brothers I really have nothing to offer but this. Need to step my game up thanks John Hancock.

Warmup sketches

[crimmsonriott]

Now, usually I don't want to 'larp', but because I broke and can't play Deltarune, I will. I'm not familiar with the whole lore, and I don't want to spoil myself too much, so pardon T-T (will play it in the future someday somehow)

But I have been in the kerdly pitt for a while now, and whenever I think about it, Crimson is lowkey a kerdly child, idk y'all (Crimson technically has canon biological parents, but we're ignoring that in this post)

Just a heads up that I like every possible Kris ship as well (krusie, kriselle, kralsei, krusielle) its just that Kerdly fan content makes me laugh so much

Bonus:

i dont really know if berdly talks like this but my god i was giggling and cackling making this

[finalgrlfantasy]

remind me never to give hancock explosives. this mf just lit up a bloatfly like it dropped the nukes personally

[clerical-aether]

Baking my mayor bf into a cookie because he's at a meeting and I miss him

[cheesebawel]

WARNING: NSFW briefly

VULGARITY

Another Hancock x reader fic snippet!

The beginning is nsfw not with the reader, but the kind of depressing fling one has when they’re sneaky and can pull strings.

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Scars crisscross the raider’s stomach like dry riverbeds, pale against the muscle beneath. Hancock catches the waistband of the raider’s jeans and yanks. A tattoo flashes into view, scratched into the skin in uneven ink. A stick-n’-poke. Some chicken scratch about abandoning all hope.

When he eats at her cunt, it’s all tension. His jaw works slow, teeth sinking onto the top of her pelvis with a pressure that could almost be mistaken for a bite.

His fingers dig into her thigh and pull. She catches his the back of head and yanks hard into the ruined planes of his flesh before Hancock can get away. Fastening him in place at her pussy. A hoarse breath spills into the hollow flesh between her folds.

“You always this slow?” she snarls.

Hancock nods against her, amused, but keeps going. Savoring every scrap. His tongue curls and presses into the pit her till his jaw aches, patient as a lockpick working at a stubborn tumblers.

She hits the back of his head hard enough to make him grunt. Not hard enough to drop him. Just enough to piss him off. Hancock’s teeth bump against bone, and he huffs against her.

“The hell? Fuck me, sister.” Hancock rubs the back of his head. “That your way of sayin’ thanks?”

“Goddamn, you don’t listen worth shit. Fuckin’ corpse got no ears…”

A laugh spills out of Hancock as he leans back on his knees. “That so? Coulda fooled me. You seemed real comfortable with the rot a minute ago. Snortin’ mentats off a dead man’s cock and all…”

Her face sours like she’d bitten into spoiled mutfruit.

“Aw, fuck this.” She yanks her pants up her legs. “Whole thing was a shit idea.” A sharp laugh escapes her. “Fuckin’ ghouls.”

Funny how pride’ll snap somebody awake quicker than a bucket of ice water. The room erupts into rattling clutter and shifting shadows. She moves like she’s picking a fight with the furniture. Hancock leans back on his thighs to catch a bit of distance. He keeps one eye on her, waiting for the inevitable part where she clocks him again. The other eye’s on his chems.

“Right. Fuckin’ ghouls.”

Hancock gives a dry little laugh.

Maybe it’s meant for her. Maybe for the vanishing shape of her back. The door slams shut before she can hear it. After that, he’s just laughing with the room.

There’s a dryness to his eyes as he glances out the window. Maybe it’ll be morning soon. Maybe night. Time gets fuzzy when he’s back on the Mentats, hours disappearing into the blank space between one handful of tablets and the next. His throat tightens around a dry swallow. Sweat rolls down his neck, collecting with the rest between his shoulder blades.

One of these days this is gonna bite him in the ass. Mayor of Goodneighbor, bringing stray raiders home. Real professional. He should be making sure she doesn’t light a fire on her way out.

But he doesn’t want to.

The couch calls to him with its worn-out leather, promising a sloppy kind of rest. Hancock drifts toward it and pours himself down, breath catching somewhere deep in his chest. Somewhere he’s not drunk enough to deal with. Not even the slightest bit buzzed.

His hands slide up the cushion, slick with sweat.

Holding it doesn’t help. Pressing it harder against his chest doesn’t help either.

He does it anyway.

Squeezes his eyes shut.

A rough shake at his arm drags Hancock into the morning.

Light stabs at his eyes. He recoils with a groan, squinting up at whichever hired gun is looming over him.

“Rich? Damn it—What’s goin’ on?”

“Boss—! It—it’s—“

Rich flails his big arms in a wordless panic, hands flying up to sketch some impossible size his mouth can’t catch.

“Legs!” he blurts. “Legs everywhere. Big goddamn things, knockin’ over the barter stands!”

He jerks around like they’re already in the room with them, turning couches into monsters with every swing of his hands.

“Cleo can’t even get a clean shot with her head-laser thing. It’s chaos at the gate. You gotta get down there!”

“Shit. Shit…” Hancock scrubs a hand over his face as he forces himself upright.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesebawel

[crimmsonriott]

Drawing Prompts to Combat Artblock : p

obligatory college au because why not (Hancock and Crimm are seniors)

Prompt:

Prompt generatorzz: https://perchance.org/plushiesotpmadness

[willinglyghoulified]

The Hancock project is coming along. I've driven myself crazy over this project. And not just because of the hat (surprisingly) but because the base pattern for this is going to be the bread and butter for my future projects. I've shed literal tears over this, and I hope his vest and coat turn out well too.

Also I need doll stands really bad for all these projects I've got planned..

[morastfrck]

Comm for @snuuziq (tysmm!!)