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:D

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Unironically thinking about buying tattoo machine

because stabbing myself with needles to make a drawing on my skin sounds way more productive than stabbing myself with an actual knife (I guess that phase of cutting my own arms with a razor passed me, I felt okay for some time and after that I imagined knives only).

No, I'm not doing anything to myself right now, all good. Physically that is. Don't worry :)

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His promise

TW: domestic violence mentioned, abuse mentioned, death from a gunshot, PTSD (flashbacks).

"Come on, Joe," he urged, his voice breaking in the middle. Jacob got much bigger over the year. His constantly stern and angry face was now covered in random marks, a reminder of his blossoming puberty. "You just hold the gun like that, okay? Just in case-"

"I can't!" Joseph whimpered, panicking. Staring at the weapon in his scrawny childish hands. "I can't do it, Jake, I…" he gulped the air loudly.

"Shut up!" Jacob hissed angrily before his face relaxed slightly, exposing his own fear and worry. "You just… you just need to stand and hold it. Just to make this fucker scared. I'll do the rest, I promise."

"But Jacob… what if…" another choked whimper escaped his throat. It all got a little too vivid, a little too cartoony, like the reality itself became disgustingly unreal. His breathing grew heavier, and his brother's rasp somehow became distant.

"You don't need to shoot, okay? It's just… in case we're fucked up. If something happens, you need to protect John. You hear me? Joe!"

* * *

Jacob closed his eyes to open them slowly, trying to get rid of the haunting memory from his past. Flashbacks come and leave, that's why he's unbothered. He has a job to do, after all.

His hand, a heavy weight on the girl's shoulder, moved slightly, squeezing it. The girl was young enough to be his daughter. And broken enough to draw his attention. He stood by her side, watching her tremble, watching her hold the pistol tightly. Watching this pistol pointed at the man tied to a chair.

Her father. Another pathetic excuse for a man. Weak bastard who got joy from abusing his child. Jacob's jaw clenched as he shook the remnants of his flashback.

"Now, just hold the gun like that," he instructed, his voice calm and steady. His hand coming to fix her posture.

"I… I can't…" she mewled, a hiccuping breath escaping her mouth.

"Hush now. Aim and shoot. We must cull the herd. Must ensure the survival of the strongest ones."

She closed her eyes, swallowing her tears. She knew she had to shoot. She had to put an end to her nightmares. She had to prove that she's strong enough. She had to…

A shot pierced the air. So loud it made her go deaf for a few seconds. She opened her eyes widely, her heart stammering against her chest. Terrified, she watched her father's body going limp, a gush of blood spilling out of his body.

A sudden sob came out of her mouth before she looked at the gun in her hands. She never pulled the trigger.

Jacob put his Colt .45 in the holster. He gave the girl's shoulder a pat before pulling away. "Just as I promised, kid," he murmured, more to himself, as he walked out of the room.

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While texting a friend I misspelled John's name essentially turning it into a female one, and it created a whole new world in my head lol Didn't want to just draw women in Seed's clothes. Still let's say I just tried my hand in it.

Couldn't come up with anything special for Jacob, but for Joseph or rather Josie I was aiming for an image that is more motherly and somewhat feminine, but still reminiscent of original design.

Joanne and Faith will come later.

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It needs more work (o_ _)ﾉ彡☆

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Twisted Untitled be like

Joseph: This is my wife Salome, next to her is Mina, our girlfriend, and by her side is my brother John, their boyfriend. In the distance there is our older brother Jacob, he is normal.

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L'Aurore, William-Adolphe Bouguereau. 1881.

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"There is my opinion and the wrong one"

- you? Hopefully not.

There are times when we can't relate to each other and that may lead us to judge one another, maybe even rightfully so, because we usually try to fight for what we think is right. But the truth is always somewhere in the middle.

Some may disagree with what I am saying sometimes, and it's fine. I may look or sound weird, saying that this thing is not that bad and another is worse, and you have opinion that is 180 degree opposite to mine. Which is also okay. Maybe it is just my age causing me to skip over some things you think need to be mentioned. Or it is my depression prevents me from wasting my last remaining breath on things that are not looking very important at the moment. Or my life experiences that are causing me to overlook some topics, because particular events made me think that what happened is okay. And if that's the case, if it's the reason for why we disagree here and there, God bless you, I hope you'll never have those experiences. If you don't see the world the way I see it because you were saved, good, let us never agree then. Stay safe and loved.

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Mina's NSFW fanfiction that is heavily inspired by @kohvan's post

This day can’t come to an end soon enough, seems to be never ending. Just as her memory of John repeating itself, playing in Mina’s mind again and again. She bites her own lip, spinning this image in her head once more: his hair just a little more messy than usual, few strands dangling in front of his focused face, when he clenches on the table top with one hand and strokes his wet penis with another, saying “fucking sinner… I am, yes… yes” under his breath. Damn asshole, always so handsome. Mina would say that jerking off is the saddest thing a guy can do (just to be a brat about it), but to her own shame and humor she’s catching herself thinking, she’s the sad one here: saw John pleasuring himself behind the door he thought was closed, and the image of it makes her body so hot right now, she is about to do just the same thing. Oh, this is so stupid! Fuck it, whatever. No duty is too important, it can wait a few minutes, while she…

 It’s not exactly a dwelling house. More of a storage building. With cameras and shit. But fairly empty at the moment. And Mina knows where cameras are. She can find a spot to relieve herself. A faint smile appears on her face now and again, when she’s moving in search of the fitting place. What a mischief! She sure won’t be caught in here, a smaller room, where she gets behind the shelf full of boxes and bottles and whatever plastic trash is on it, leans on the wall and finally lifts up her dress.

 Mina doesn’t move her underwear yet. The image of John once again spins in her mind, she savors it, smiling drunkenly and bites her curled finger. Right palm rubs on the thin fabric stretched on her hips, all four fingers go between her thighs in slow motions up and down, before Mina starts to rub just her clit with index and middle ones. Breathes deeply, as if she was holding her breath all this time. Pleasuring herself through these panties, it feels a bit different, somehow even better than usual, at least, she likes it for now. But as soon as she senses the wetness on the tips, her panties go down. She doesn’t even slide them to the side, oh no. Her hand pushes them down to the knees, revealing pubis with hair recently cut. And her labia, filled with desire and hunger for sin. Juice already sliding to her stockings. She didn’t even do anything yet! It’s all that brat, John, the memory of him, of his hand and that dick. Even his stupid dick is so good looking. Mina’s gaze drops down as she tries to imagine having a penis of her own. Is it easier to enjoy, when it’s yours? When it’s just the right size, a beautiful shape, fine color, and when it’s all wet, like it was then… You don’t see dicks like that every day, no ma’am. Not like Mina could say she saw many – doesn’t remember. But this one clearly got itself a special place. Too bad, for a moment this place is just in her mind.

 She touches herself again, without panties now, and her hand gets all wet in an instant. Fingers are going in circles around the clit, as those words are spinning in her head still: “Sinner… I am one…” in John’s raspy voice, in arousal, when he thought nobody can hear or see him. But Mina did. And at the moment, she felt confused and a bit ashamed, lost even, knowing that she shouldn’t peek on him like that, but unable to look away until he finished. Now she smiles at herself: she liked it, peeking was fun, she wants to do it again. And next time maybe even with a hand down her own pants.

 This idea along with the stimulation she is giving herself makes her knees weaker, and Mina slides down the wall with a quiet yet still high pitched noise coming from her mouth with a sigh . Now squatting on the floor, she spreads her legs and starts rubbing that sweet spot more vigorously with just one finger from side to side faster and faster. Audible moans escape her lips, but she pushes them together in an attempt to stay silent. Two fingers go inside with ease. The pleasure is close to it’s peak already, but damned be this female body, this pleasure is not enough.

 Mina’s losing her balance and starts leaning forward slowly. Her knees reach the floor, and she moves her hips up and down now, like If she is sitting on top of her imaginary lover. Troubled grimace on her face, and what comes out of her mouth is not a moan but a whine. Oh, she is almost crying. And lips are parting as if gasping for air, but they are searching for something else: his tongue in her mouth would be just as fitting right now as his hard dick, she’d gladly swallow it whole. And Mina already knows how it feels, so cannot lie to herself: these two fingers bring no satisfaction in comparison to John Seed. But stopping is not really an option now.

 Eventually Mina drops on all four. Or rather three, since her hand is still busy moving between her legs, rubbing, going in, coming out, getting faster, wetter. Seen. Oh, there is a man behind that shelf. He came to find her and he did. Now he listens to Mina’s muffled moans as she sways back and forth trying to imitate, to pretend he’s behind her. And he can’t look away. Watches with a sly smile. He’d like to be behind her too right now. Slide in fast and rough, grab her hair in a fist, fuck her senseless, like she really wants, right there, on the floor covered in dust an…

“Fucking sinner, - she exhales, - you’re a sinner alright, John. Fuck you”

Guess she hasn't dropped a single word yet since he found her doing this, but that phrase catches him by surprise. He just raises his eyebrows a bit though. Ain’t that a pleasure? To know you live in someone’s head rent free…

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Drawing a bunch of sad Joseph pleasers :D

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pizza killer

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Cannot post my NSFW fanfiction ( TT^TT) Error, error... Stupid internet, I want to share my smut, how dare you! *runs away crying*

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Listening to The Royal Concept makes me feel like I am loved by a decent person and loving them back ( ''˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

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Got a sudden urge to be negative about myself for no particular reason while chatting with friends. "I suck, nobody loves me" kind of negative. Wouldn't that be cruel, to tell such thing to a person who loves me? I think it would. So that's when I shut up.

Negativity will pass. No mood will be ruined by my unexpected comments. It makes sense to me.

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This asshole

makes me melt ಥ_ಥ

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Look at my squad, see them running. I love my idiots <3

John is so smart. Joseph is... always first to become a corpse. Jacob is indestructible.

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