#But it turned out to be about a dog and a RP.... And not the ship

[the-busy-ghost]

Me normally: Let people love what they love

Me, after a Test Match Special commentator expresses their belief that the new All Creatures Great and Small is somehow "better" than the 1978 version: This is pure insanity and TMS can no longer be trusted on anything, how can they even be trusted to know about cricket, do they have no TASTE

[robotforest]

hot take: quotev walked so uquiz could run

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[kimulus0check]

Prompt thesis: you want to spend quality time with your boyfriend Pete, but his friends already made plans to hang out that night..so he brings you with him to the club meeting.

Warnings: slow intro, sfw to nsfw build up,

You and Pete have been a thing for a while now, just on the down low. The both of you met at Pete’s comic shop; Pete being a regular with the club of goons that seem to be led by Bill; You worked as a cashier for minimum wage and get harassed by dorky men on the regular.

You’ve became accustomed to the regular “do you even know who Wolverine is? Have you ever opened a comic book?” And the occasional “name five Star Wars characters, I bet you haven’t even seen two sequels.”

You weren’t surprised by these comments. it was mostly expected, but you’d think these men would be nicer to you since you’re probably the only women they’ll ever touch in their lives by giving back their change on their overpriced purchases. Not like you would say these things out loud, because that would be mean, and Joe would snap at you even if he completely agrees with you.

But when you were checking out the club’s purchases and one by one of the same old “Don’t you dare put my damn sky walker figure in the same bag as his variant DC comics.” And “Does the 20% off count for the fantasy cards and RP board games in the back?” They all finished their purchase until one of the other members comes out from the back of the store. “You guys go ahead, I’ll pay and catch up.” His Brooklyn accent was heavier than the rest of the groups. Two of them nodded and waited outside the store as they tore into their bags.

You were left alone with him. How he treated you put you to shock. He was decent towards you, though his purchases of horror pinups and creep comics were something it’s not anything you’re unfamiliar to. He was sort of sweet. His small talk and his personality enticed you and wanted you to talk to him more, before he walked away you slipped your phone number with the receipt in hopes of talking to him again. You don’t know how long waiting by the phone until you got a call back.

Now you two were suppose to have a movie date, but now he was being nagged at a familiar face with caramel brunette air and acne covered skin. Pete decided to bring you because he wanted to spend time with you, but also told you it would piss off his friends even more if you came, and that’s what he wanted.

Walking to his friend’s house with your fingers intertwined with Pete’s, he goes in and leads you to his friend’s basement. Its took you a second to realize this wasn’t a secret tunnel to your shitting job until you heard three grown men fighting about Star Wars.

“Fuck you Bill, The Acolyte movie was a dog shit movie!” Screamed a big man you remember seeing numerous times, but never actually talked to. His glasses held on for dear life as he kept deprecating on a Star Wars movie you haven’t seen. “Not only was everything brutally predictable, but any mystery dangled for the audience was answered almost immediately OR dragged out too long, which became an afterthought to the audience because of bad pacing buck.” The blonde lectured on to the brunette some more. “Whatever fuck let’s just get the club meeting started when-who the fuck is that.” All eyes turn to you as your foot hit the bottom of the stairs.

You were never scared nor intimidated by these men before but now you feel like a deer in headlights. You’re now in the house in a basement surrounded by three men. You grip on Pete’s sleeve like your last vice and look at him with a silent look in your eyes.

Pete still stood un-phased and almost bored as he stated,”I told you I had plans tonight, so I brought my plans with me since you wanted me to be here so fucking bad.” He put heavy attitude in the last part of his explanation while walking over to the table and you following behind him trying you best not to make it seem obvious you were using him as a human shield.

“Fine just this one time, just remember the rule.” Bill said as he pointed a finger at Pete just to to scoff back at him and sit at the table. You look to find a seat but before just as you were looking at are Pete grabbed your wrist and pulled you on his lap. You couldn’t look up but you knew that they were all looking at you. God do they recognize you? Or are they just shocked to have a girl down here.

Bill went on about stuff they did last week and his findings of stuff he bought that you know you have checked out for him at Joe’s. Then who you now know as Josh showed his comics and collectible exclusives that you know was from joes too, then Jerry, oh god have to recognize you there’s no way.

Then sealing your fate Josh spoke. ”Don’t you work at Joe’s as a cashier?” You’re so fucking cooked.

To be continued (maybe)

[rina-teatia]

Food and porn (18+)

Gallagher is a humble London bartender with a rich martial arts background. Boothill is a master criminal and scoundrel. They can't seem to have anything in common... except kinks.

these are not my arts, but my friend's with whom we had rp by this story! you can subscribe to his social networks (a friend has agreed to publish the art)

X: https://x.com/ahhswan

DA: https://www.deviantart.com/drasterod

tg: https://t.me/drisnyastanOD

Pairing: Boothill x Gallagher

Tags: Human Boothill, Dom Boothill, Weight Gain, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Food Sex, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Fat Fetish, Fat all

Words: 2,619

The sky over London was habitually covered with clouds. It was evening, about seven o'clock, but the bad weather had made it dark outside. The first tentative drops hit the cobblestones of the streets before the downpour hit the roofs.

Gallagher grimaced at the spectacle through the small window of his bar. He lit a cigar and muttered something like an old man's `huuuuʼ though he wasn't old enough for that yet. A downpour is a shitty thing. Usually even the most avid drinkers in the rain prefer to drink at home rather than drag themselves to a bar. In short, there was nothing economically advantageous about this situation.

His leg, wounded in an old battle, had started whimpering a couple hours ago, heralding rain, and still didn't want to settle down. Gallagher smoked and read the papers. Scotland Yard was reporting again on a mysterious burglar who had already robbed several pawnshops and jewelry stores. The message was terribly familiar, moreover, Gallagher even knew the criminal personally, but he was in no hurry to write letters to the police. After all, the robber was...

“What a weather, partner!” A large figure wrapped in a red, worn poncho walked into the bar. A wide black hat was pulled over his eyes, and half his face was hidden by a red handkerchief. The man's mud-splattered boots shuffled across the floor, sticking out of chaps that were equally muddy near the end of his pants. The man tossed his long black-and-white hair back and grinned, pulling off his handkerchief. “You weren't expecting me?”

“God, why aren't you home?” Gallagher sighed heavily, setting aside the newspaper and slowly standing up.

“The rain washes away the odors! No bloodhound can smell me. By the way, this is for you.” The man chuckled and put into Gallagher's hands a handmade gold watch on a chain with a cover inlaid with small stones. The man grimaced as he looked at the gift. “Pour me a bourbon, dear.”

“Boothill, you're insufferable. Lock the door, damn it.” Gallagher stood behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of bourbon with a heavy sigh. Boothill removed his hat and poncho, spreading them out on a nearby stool, and adjusted his vest, which was tight against his round belly.

Well, they were notorious old lovers who never seemed to be able to be together. Gallagher had worked for Scotland Yard as a detective in the past, before the leg injury that had forced him into early retirement, he'd been a top-notch bloodhound. Now the old dog was working in a bar and trying to forget his past glorious life.

Boothill, on the other hand, was a hardened criminal. He had come from the New World to good old England for a new life, but his language was sharper than his nine-millimeter ammunition, and no one was in a hurry to hire a foreigner with a nasty American accent. He could have written a book called `Why Men Killʼ but it would have had all the pages written in the short and succinct `MASSACREʼ in big letters.

Gallagher happened to own Boothill's secret when he almost turned him in to the constables. The old policeman still had his powder in the bottle, and perhaps if it hadn't been for Boothill's eloquence, he'd be hanging from the gallows right now....

“Your bourbon, as usual, is the worst stuff I've ever tasted.” Boothill smiled and squinted one green eye that was visible from beneath his bangs.

“Why do you drink it?”

“Hell if I know... I could drink diesel or kerosene if I wanted to.” He wiped his mouth with his hand and grinned through his shark teeth, glaring at Gallagher. “We really haven't seen each other in a long time. You've gotten even fatter, I see.”

Boothill reached across the bar and playfully poked the bartender in the belly. Gallagher rolled his eyes.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Robber. At this rate, you won't fit through any bank window or sewer manhole.”

Boothill chuckled, slapping himself on the thigh. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and tipped more liquid into his glass before greedily chugging it down.

“Son of a bitch! You're damn right I am! How about a bet?!” The cowboy held out his hand for Gallagher to shake. “You win, I become your pet kitty and never rob anyone again, just like you always wanted. And if I win – you'll like it too. But that's later. Agreed?!”

“What's it gonna take?” Gallagher put his hand to his cheek. He wasn't in a hurry to agree to shady deals.

“Shoot that deer in the eye.” Boothill drew his heavy American revolver and twirled it playfully in the air. “Don't you think so, Mr. Sherlock Holmes? Have you forgotten how to hold a gun yet?”

Gallagher followed his gaze. It was about the trophy deer head on the far wall of the bar. The room was elongated in length, and the end of the room extended quite far from the bar. Gallagher calculated the distance and the target. Not an easy task, of course... But he had a better chance than Boothill, sober as he was. He was on his third glass of bourbon. The idea of making him stay home was very appealing. Normally, Boothill lived with him on a raiding basis, like an ancient Viking - looted and gone on his way. In their case, though, he fucked and ate all the food. That's why he'd been blown up to the size of a medium-sized boar. Gallagher offered to move in with him a long time ago, but Boothill apparently liked living in a basement with rats and fighting in a dump with raccoons for half a hot dog.

“All right. Go ahead and shoot.” Gallagher snorted and turned his eyes to Boothill. He burped and shoved the revolver into his lover's hand.

“Ladies first!”

It was foolish to argue with him, so, rolling his eyes, Gallagher accepted the weapon. The revolver was indeed heavy, with a carved wooden handle and a graceful, thin barrel. Gallagher remembered how constables were taught to shoot. You take aim, point the muzzle straight at the point - the eye of a deer, freeze, hold your breath, pull the trigger without jerking your hand, and!..

There was a loud pop of gunfire in the bar. When the small cloud of smoke and powder cleared, Gallagher looked at his target. The bullet had entered the deer's forehead.

He missed.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Boothill laughed when he saw the result of the shooting. “Is that what they taught you at Scotland Yard?! No wonder I'm still alive! Those sons of bitches are total assholes!” He resolutely took his revolver and slid in next to Gallagher. “Out of my way, senior citizen. Daddy's in the building. I'll show you how to handle my gun.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Gallagher grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest. While Boothill took aim, he picked up his glass and took a sip. Boothill was right-it was nasty. At that moment a shot rang out. Gallagher shuddered with surprise: he was sure the tipsy Boothill would take fifteen minutes to aim. The bullet stuck out proudly in place of the deer's eye.

“Ha! Well, snatch?” Boothill shoved Gallagher in the side, chuckling happily. “You lost me a wish!”

“What?! How did you do that?!” Gallagher even stepped closer, not believing his eyes. How does Boothill do that?! Sick bastard.

“You can't beat talent.” The cowboy smirked smugly, took the unfinished glass of bourbon from him and ʼclinkʼ with his revolver.

“What do you want?” Gallagher sourly returned to the bar and propped his arms on his chest, leaning against it. He watched Boothill grimly. He glared at him. Gallagher stood up so well that his thick chest was literally poking out of his shirt, forming a lush cleavage. Boothill yanked at his half-unfastened tie and grinned.

“I want those fat tits first. Them, and also to feed you to your heart's content.” He rose from his seat and licked his lips. He pulled his tie back on, tightening it around the stranger's neck in a tight loop. Gallagher gritted his teeth, but made no attempt to resist. His cheeks, overgrown with dark stubble, trembled in a blush. Boothill swung easily over the bar and got right up to the man. One of the cowboy's palms slapped him hard across his stomach, pushing his shirt up cheekily. Boothill gagged him with a wet kiss, wrapping his tie around his hand and nearly strangling Gallagher with it.

“You asshole. Wandering around, and now you think I'm going to give it to you like an obedient whore?” The bartender breathed heavily, his hands loosening the pressure of his tie a little.

“'Come on, sweetheart. You're not a whore, you're my dear partner. You didn't like the watch? You know, you got off easy on that bet! I can already feel how hungry you are for... everything.” Boothill kissed him again and gave him a little distance. “Come on, be a good girl, sit tight, I'll be quick. I hope your pantries are stocked with snacks as usual?” He laughed and opened one of the doors to the staff room. This wasn't the first time Boothill had been here, so he felt right at home. “Wow! Damn you're a hoarding old bear!”

Gallagher slumped weakly in his chair as he watched Boothill rummage through the pantry and rattle dishes. The bar did indeed offer not only booze, but quite a few appetizers as well. Gallagher was never in a hurry to cook during his shift, so he kept his own convenience foods in the freezers; mostly meat, but some freezable meals as well. It was easy enough to heat them up on the fire or throw them in hot oil, and then serve them immediately to guests. The quality didn't suffer much, though, so for the unsophisticated average person, it was fine. People came to the bar to drink, not to eat, so no one turned up their noses.

Boothill had gutted the stock almost completely. To be honest, Gallagher was afraid to go in there, because the pantry and the adjoining kitchen were rattling, hissing and clinking with metal and plates. Gallagher was well aware that he was about to be thoroughly fed. It was another unusual aspect of their relationship. The bartender lowered his gaze to his stomach, resting softly on his lap and pulling up the buttons of his vest. In his youth, he'd been a slender and muscularly handsome constable, the rare sort of man. But after his injury and retirement... Well, he'd let himself relax, sought solace in food and drink, hence the slight fullness. And he never thought anyone would like it. What's more; he'd like it on someone else, too. However, Boothill always knew how to surprise him. In fighting, shooting, appetite, sex; the cowboy's possibilities were endless.

“Waiting?” Boothill returned to the bar, purring something under his breath and carrying a cart full of greasy appetizers. His only visible eye gleamed predatorily, as did his sharp teeth. Gallagher's stomach rumbled-not from hunger, but rather from excitement.

“Who's going to pay for all this?” Gallagher asked sourly.

“You. Or me. We'll figure it out later.” Boothill shrugged nonchalantly, sitting down on the bartender's lap. His palms gently squeezed his tiits before pushing the fragrant-smelling cart closer. “Come on, get on it. I bet you've missed this since the last time we met.”

Gallagher knew what that meant; he was being offered to eat until he burst. Boothill had some pretty perverted fetishes, and it seemed Gallagher did too, because he obediently took a bite of the hot, spicy steak. There was much more in the cart: roast beef, reheated pork pies, apple pies, lots of fried sausages in a thin film that burst in the mouth, spilling hot juice into it; fish and chips, sandwiches and some of today's puddings. Under Buthill's watchful eye, all this splendor began to be slowly eaten.

“If you end up getting caught, I'll personally go and report you for violence.” Gallagher exhaled heavily, finishing one of the pies. He was already feeling quite full! It had only taken a few meals to reach the line that separated satisfying hunger and excessive satiety. But that was the line Boothill wasn't interested in. He was pushing Gallagher further, to the line of "horrible gluttony."

“If that's what you wanted, Mr. Detective, I wouldn't be here a long time ago. What's to stop you from dialing Inspector Argenti right now and telling him all about me?” Boothill gently poured some beer into his mouth to wash it down. Gallagher exhaled, feeling his belly gradually rounding into a full sphere.

“Idiot…” Gallagher wiped his lips. He was beginning to breathe heavier. Boothill, sitting on his lap, unbuttoned first the man's vest and then his shirt. Gallagher realized wistfully that he would not button it again today.

“Is your tummy bothering you?” Butkhill grinned playfully, wrapping both hands around the man's heavy belly and kissing it slowly a few times. He leaned down to Gallagher's ear and whispered with an almost manic tenderness: “Keep it up, and I'll show you how good I am with your shaft, too.”

“I hate you…” Gallagher grumbled as deft hands fed him another sandwich. He felt stuffed almost to the brim, but Boothill wasn't done with him yet, forcing him to eat without interruption.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The belt of his pants was starting to dig painfully into his lower abdomen, and his pants creaked threateningly. It wasn't just Gallagher's growing girth, but also his growing erection. His belly was big enough to put a little weight on the rising bump with his weight, and when Gallagher moved a little, rubbing himself and it caused a whole flurry of sensation. God, he's getting so fat...!

Boothill, as always, was the epitome of attentiveness. His deft hands undid the belt and fly of his pants before they could burst. Gallagher seriously feared this might happen, for his belly was as round and taut as a ball, and it protruded proudly forward and wide, offset by his broad love handles. Boothill was frankly enjoying his lover's helpless position, stroking him, caressing every crease and beginning to rub his aroused cock as well. Gallagher was breathing heavily; the pressure inside his belly was almost unbearable, so much so that it converted itself into arousal. He wanted to cum excruciatingly badly. Boothill was slowing him down, torturing him, squeezing all his juices, squeezing out the presperm drop by drop. The cowboy himself was squirming impatiently on Gallagher's lap, from which he was slightly displaced by his impressive belly.

“Ha... Shit... Ha-ah!” Gallagher gave a low shriek, collapsing back in his chair as Boothill's hand became damp with whitish liquid. He grinned.

“You should see your face when you cum... I'd paint a picture like that and hang it in my room above the frame.” He stood up slowly, giving Gallagher one last pat on the belly. “'I've got to go, sweetheart. You know, the constables are already out hunting for my head. Don't get bored in here.”

He climbed back over the bar, put on his poncho and hat. The red handkerchief returned to the bottom of his face. Boothill walked over to Gallagher one last time to smack the bartender, completely exhausted from gluttony and orgasm, on the cheek.

“I'll come by again tonight. Don't forget to leave the window open!” With those words he disappeared into the night, as he always did, leaving Gallagher alone with the consequences of their games.

haha im sorry guys english isnt my native language btw i hope u enjoed it!

[would-you-like-a-scooby-snack]

Hey There Scooby Doo! Here's a Promo for you!

*The screen turns on as it shows a blonde haired jock adjusting the camera.*

Blonde Jock: "I got it working everyone. It's up and running." *The jock backs up a bit.* "Hello everyone. You're probably wondering who we are right now. Well we are Mystery Incorporated, a gang of 5 who travels the world solving mysteries of many kinds. I'm Fred Jones, the Ultimate Quarterback and Ultimate Trap maker.....Or I would be if my title didn't get give to *Kevin McCallister*....!!" *An orange haired girl taps Fred on the shoulder.* "*Ahem* Right. Anyway, i'm tough, I can bench press 220, I'm an expert driver, and I am a master of setting traps. Could've been called the Ultimate Trap maker, but noooooo. I get Quarterback instead...."

Orange haired beauty: "Freddy, calm down." *Fred groans and walks off screen.* "*Ahem.* Hi everyone! My name's Daphne Blake, the Ultimate model. I'm a master at all things fashion, I'm highly resourceful, and I dabble in a bit of martial arts here and there." *Someone comes up to Daphne.*

Shaggey haired fellow: "Hey, Daph. Can you cut this wood?"

Daphne: "Sure." *She chops through the wood with ease, slipting it in half.*

Shaggey haired fellow: "Thanks."

Daphne: "You're welcome, Shaggey." *Shaggey walks off screen as cooking noises is heard.* "Anyway that's enough out of the most beautiful member of the gang, now to the smartest and cutest member of the gang!" *She turns the camera to a girl in glasses reading a book. The girl jumped from surprise.*

Girl in glasses: "W-Wait, I thought you were the beautiful one, Daph."

Daphne: "I am. But you and Scooby share the title of the cutest members. Not even beauty can compete with that. Or would you like to argue with Marcy about it, Velma?" *The girl in glasses blushes brightly and covers her face with the book.* "Hehehehe! See, cute? Whenever you're ready, Velma." *Daphne pats Velma's back and moves to the side. Velma slowly lowers the book.*

Velma: "I-I'm Velma D-Dinkle.....Brains of the group, investigator of the mysterious, a-and Ultimate Activist. I...I.....Darn it, Daph! Now I can't get my words across!" *She covers her face with the book she was ready, blushing like a mess.*

Daphne: "Hehehe! Sorry, Vel. I'm turn the camera over to Shaggey and Scooby. Ok?"

Velma: ".......Ok......" *Daphne turns the camera over to a the shaggey haired guy from earlier and a dog cooking some pineapple shrimp fried rice. Daphne whistles to them, getting their attention.*

Shaggey: "Huh? Oh, like, hello! I'm Norville Rogers. But my friends call me Shaggey. I'm the Ultimate Cook and this is my pet dog and Mystery Inc's mascot, Scooby Doo."

Scooby Doo: "Hi there. It's nice to meet everyone."

Daphne: "That smells yummy, Shaggey."

Shaggey: "Thanks. it's almost ready. I'm making pineapple shrimp fried rice."

Daphne: "Got it, Shaggey." *She turns the camera back to her.* "And that's all the members of the gang. We would love it if you would give us a promo. Looking forward to talking to you all." *Daphne smiles.*

@a-house-divided @full-course-for-people-pleasers @salmon-running-octoling @tinyronpa @needy-girl-overload @disheiress @d4y-0f-judg3m3nt @candy-cocktail @carnivore-and-cannibal @mxfia-kingpins @ask-the-steel-gray-admin-rp @ult-aikido-princess @excitement-to-consumption @fabled-fauna @y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @mercy-of-the-ashes @little-miss-noire-detective @little-miss-succubus @rxnowned-vxmpire-hxnter

[solusprime]

Get to know the mun

Answer the questions for your RP partners to know you better - you can always skip a question if it’s too personal!

Name: Logan (Lo, Gary, Mitch)

Height: 5’9 (175cm)

Language: English

Nationality: Canadian

Current time: 1100 am

Favourite season: autumn and winter because I like wearing sweaters and jackets

Favourite Scent: the ocean, forest after it rains and metal (not sure how to explain the last one but something about it is so inviting)

Favourite colour: purple, orange, green

Favourite animal: cats, cranes

Favourite Fictional character: Thats so difficult to answer! I love Solus but I also love Arthur Morgan from RDR2

Normal amount of sleep: 6-8 hours

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate?: I am a black coffee drinker (used to be double double in coffee)

Number of blankets you sleep with: One, maybe two if extra cold

Dogs or Cats: Cats! But would love to have a dog again eventually

Dream Trip: I’d love to meet some of the online friends. Also any trip where I’m not bound to my work since I travel that way mostly

Dream job: It used to be forensic scientist, however I think I’m happy now with being a Marine Tecnician

Reason for my URL: It’s her name so it was fitting lmao

Favourite style to write: love doing longer forms, angst has always been fun

Random fact: I am physically unable to burp. For the longest time I thought it was a skill you learn and that I just didn’t know how. Nope. Turns out I just can’t

Tagged by: No one, I just wanted to -w-

Tagging: Anyone who wants to steal it!

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

OMG IMAGINE DOINF LIKE A COP AND CRIMINCAL RP WITH GEPARD... like omg bro..but like gepard is kinda subby 😕😕 he would be so flustered

no bc you are so right, poor lil' geppie would be so flustered as he plays the role of a cop interrogating a particularly difficult criminal who keeps teasing and diverting the conversation away from the interrogation. it took quite a bit to convince him to even roleplay this sort of scenario, seeing as how this is essentially what he does on the daily for his actual job. but you plead and beg, trying to convince him that it'd be fun, and he finally relents, but only after you promise him that you'll use the safe word if it gets too intense.

gepard doesn't expect you to suddenly yank away the supposed control that he held in this made-up scenario. suddenly he is the one being interrogated, although not in any way that he expected. you're taunting him left and right as you bend him over the desk being used for your little play, cooing at him for enjoying being violated by some criminal. he's supposed to be exacting justice and yet here he is, getting toyed around with like some kind of whore. the whole time, he's as hard as can be, cute little veins pulsing all over his cock as you fondle and squeeze him all over.

"what's wrong officer? can't you even do your job right?" you curl your index and ring fingers right into his prostate, grinning oh so cruelly as the once stoic and hardened officer sobs and chokes out moans. his cute cock is left pressed against the edge of the desk, thick n gooey cum left to ooze down into a puddle on the floor below. he's so pathetically cute. "man, i wonder what all the other cops would say if they found out you like being violated by criminals. maybe they might even want a turn."

upon seeing him freeze up and whine feebly in protest, you let out an amused laugh—he tightened up significantly around your fingers when you suggested that, how cute—as you raise a hand before bringing it down on his cute ass. gepard shrieks, tongue lolling out like a dog as his balls clench up. he cums just like that, the sticky puddle on the floor gaining more mass. "aww don't worry officer, your secret is safe with me. tell ya what, why don't you let me go and let me do my usual business, but you'll let me violate you when you catch me. sound good?"

"n-no.. this sort of thing..! i won't do—ughk!—you can't..!"

you frown in feigned hurt, though on the inside you're feeling anything but that. gepard is really enjoying this sort of play a bit too much—guess you were really right about him, he really enjoys getting violated.

"oh well, guess we might as well make the most of our time together here then♡"

[lunatyklines]

OVER THE GARDEN WALL (P.1) - a collection of lines from the beloved animated spooky season classic. a rp meme. *adjust pronouns and wording as needed

❝ Wait, wait a second. Uh … [name]? Where are we? ❞

❝ Do you think it's some kind of deranged lunatic with an axe waiting out there in the darkness for innocent victims? ❞

❝ Well, you're slapping yourself, and I'm answering your question, and– ❞

❝ This guy sounds loony. Maybe we should make a break for it, if we can. ❞

❝ We may need to knock him out first. ❞

❝ I dunno. Sometimes I feel like I'm just like…a boat, upon a winding river…twisting, towards an endless black sea… ❞

❝ Did you know, that if you soak a raisin in grape juice, it turns into a grape? ❞

❝ Ugh, you're not helping at all. ❞

❝ Aw, beans! Where is that frog o' mine? ❞

❝ You have beautiful eyes. ❞

❝ Oh, holy moley, hot dog–!! ❞

❝ That was the plan, remember? Knock him out! ❞

❝ Can you turn me into a tiger? It doesn't have to be a magical tiger. ❞

❝ [Name], stop talking to a bush. ❞ 

❝ Oh– do you like waffles? ❞

❝ Pumpkins can't move on their own! Can they? ❞

❝ You find this place as creepy as I do, right? ❞

❝ So, it's some kind of weird cult. They seem nice enough. ❞

❝ Okay. You're in denial. That's fine. ❞

❝ I'm really just looking to leave here. As fast as possible. ❞

❝ You'll never convict! You have no proof! ❞

❝ I simply have to punish you for your transgressions. ❞

❝ I told you this place was bad news! ❞

❝ Maybe they're gonna bury you out there. ❞

❝ Yes! I want your help! ❞

❝ I guess in some ways, I'm trying to get home too. ❞

❝ I don't have to tell you anything. ❞

❝ But we have to do something fun. ❞

❝ We can just keep walking silently, you know? ❞

❝ Hey! What? I'm not a pushover. ❞

❝ The world is a miserable place, [Name]. Life isn't fun. ❞

❝ We need to do our part to make the world a better place! ❞

❝ School?! Not today. ❞

❝ You're late. You know the rules. ❞

❝ Oof. That lady's got some baggage. ❞

❝ So, my theory is hot dogs are not actually dogs, regardless of what they teach you in school. ❞

❝ Oh boy! Mealtime! ❞

❝ This is way better than being chased by a gorilla. ❞

singing ❝ Oh potatoes and molasses, if you want some, oh just ask us~ ❞

❝ I just wanted to have fun, change the world, and make it a better place. But I just made everything worse. ❞

❝ You're a stubborn jerk. When are you gonna give this up? ❞

❝ If only something would go right for a change. ❞

❝ Okay, I think he's asleep. Let's go steal his stuff. ❞

❝ All he ever did was steal my heart away. ❞

❝ I found a duck. Do you know how to make eggs from a duck? I'm hungry. ❞

❝ Finally some good luck. Let's go to this creepy tavern and ask for some directions. ❞

❝ Curse you! Curse you! You'll die someday and I'll laugh! ❞

❝ What kind of person goes out chopping trees in the middle of a thunderstorm at night? ❞

❝ You don't need directions. You follow that compass inside your heart. ❞

❝ Uh … no, I think we need directions. ❞

❝ [Name] was amazing! He sang a song, rode a horse, and saved you from the axe guy! ❞

❝ I was thinking more like flat-out stealing from him. ❞

❝ I want to steal. ❞

❝ Yeah! I want to see the ghost! To the painting! ❞

❝ Afraid of a ghost? Ghosts are just floaty things. ❞

❝ It's stuck. Well, guess we just have to spend some quality time together. ❞

❝ Don't change the subject. ❞

❝ How about you tell me about your darkest secrets instead? ❞

❝ My secrets are too secret. ❞

❝ Now who's avoiding the question? ❞

❝ I secretly whisper poetry to myself in my room at night. ❞

❝ It looks like there was a struggle – a violent struggle. ❞

❝ I can't thank you enough for helping me to face my fears. ❞

❝ It's a rock fact! ❞

[ebonyfrostremade]

Let's talk about Forgotten Elegy!

Hey since the mods all blocked me preventing any sort of communication I'd like to expose what has been going on in there! Apparently because it makes people uncomfortable to say what's going on.

So the current plot in TimberClan involves an outsider group in which previous members caused problems for the group. Now no player was warned about what this group was going to face going in. Instead we were faced with erin hunter level anti-outsider xenophobic rhetoric.

Now as some of you may know... I am not white! In fact I am of arabic descent, which, as some of you know are not exactly a favorite when it comes to immigrants!

Some topics mentioned include:

A cat taking on the name of the colony's god to piss them off this was treated as funny!

Likening their burial practices to like prey or trash.

Treating the entire group as murderers when only one cat maybe did something.

Pining the blame on the group for a disappearance they had no paw in.

Calling the colony brutes and relating their distrust to their culture of fighting assuming they love fighting and shit because of it.

Keeping the colony prisoner for an extended period of time

Implying the colony should be grateful for receiving "food" and "shelter" while being kept prisoner and if they weren't they'd be ungrateful.

Having a literal concept of "the good ones" with the colony having the main captor the leader Scoutstar have a colony cat, Velvet, as her watcher to make sure the colony weren't stepping out of line. Allegories being made towards a dog on a leash.

Making cats who believe the treatment is wrong feel stupid and afraid of siding with them!

Oh this entire plot is suppose to end with the colony joining Timberclan despite the foul treatment!

Constant jokes about how the worst offenders did nothing wrong especially Scoutstar who is, as pointed out by her player, taking her paranoia out on the group but its "for the good of her clan" so i guess that makes it ok right?

Now call me not white but all of this sounds pretty bad!

Mmy way of engaging such things, as someone who has experienced similar things, would be to call it what it is that should be alright shouldn't it? After all as they told me this is an Adult Rp where we can talk about Adult Themes after all!

WRONG!

Apparently calling these cat's behaviors and the plot for what it is has made people "uncomfortable" and that members did not enjoy how I was commenting on their characters because of how people turned it to real resentment in the past.

I will have you know FE that trying to block me from speaking and being a hawk over whatever I say has made me more resentful that a character's actions!

I am an adult and I find it quite insulting you apparently think I cannot separate those things and have childishly blocked me rather than talk like adults as I didn't even want to repeal the decision. However because members were uncomfortable that was apparently enough, yet the real world rhetoric that was being used, despite asking for it to be tagged never was! In fact I had to get blasted with comments and sentiments like those above without any sort of content warning. Basically getting my cat experiencing bigotry like mine without so much as a warning despite "the obvious" needing to be tagged.

Instead of anyone, staff or complaining members alike, putting on their big boy pants and dealing with the implications of the plot they were in they rather cry and whine about the consequences of their actions and the fact it didn't make their little kitty look all that good. Such is natural for whites and the people who ride their dicks.

Now I can personally say there are plenty of members who agree with me that this so if you think blocking and kicking me is getting you out of this you are sorely mistaken! In fact they are quite pissed off with how staff handled things in kicking me for what they also agree were appreciating the writing from a standpoint of someone who is a real life victim of what this plot showcases. Isn't that funny! I know that my friend who I mentioned to you is still there!

In fact a lot of the comments the cats in this rp have used have been almost word for word shit I've heard and shit my family and people like me have heard! Yet I'm the bad guy for making a comment about it.

All of this is to say I am in fact hurt and know that you all don't like me because I didn't roll over and take being put through a xenophobic plot without comment and called cats xenophobic for actions I saw!

So I am returning the energy you have given me! I think you are all unprofessional and have been for most of the controversies your group has been involved in. You run away from what the issue is and refuse communication then turn around in blaming the lack of communication for the reason why these things happen.

I'm sorry me engaging with a plot you crafted as a person effected by the very concepts you are putting into it offended you same with all the other little members who whined about it!

Actually that was sarcasm I am not fucking sorry. You all need to grow the fuck up and perhaps can this plot because you clearly cannot handle something as delicate as this without being xenophobic and racist. Just call me a fucking terrorist or towelhead or a camel jockey next time it'll be much more direct!

[righteous-r0de0]

A Meeting of Misguided Minds | Audio Rp | M4A

to old endings, and new beginnings (script and link to ao3 under the cut)

Read it here on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57404290

[squeaky door opens, bell jingles, door closes] [quiet instrumental music, voices, silverware clatter]

Employee: Welcome to Elysium! Oh! You’re the one who called us about the interview. I’ll go grab him for you. Do you want something to drink in the meantime? No? Okay. Two seconds!

Perseus: [footsteps] Hello! Welcome, welcome! Look at you, all prepared! I can take those for you, super star. I’m Perseus or Percy, rather. And you are? [pages flipping] Oh right, right here at the top, perfect! [laughter] Sorry, I’m a bit jumpy. I don’t do interviews like this very often, if you can’t tell and I’ve had more than enough caffeine this morning. Here, you can follow me back to the office. Thank you, Emilio! [footsteps] [door open, close, chair scraping] Make yourself comfortable. 

I gotta say, when Emilio out front said you’d called about an interview, I was a little surprised! I mean, I know we’re a registered business and all, but most of the staff either doesn’t care or doesn’t know about all that. And to be honest, I like to keep it that way, but I’m never one to turn down an opportunity to be helpful. Especially if who I’m helping is going to be a helping hand in return. [chuckle] I don’t gotta tell you how rough things are out there right now. And with my main host gone indefinitely for bereavement, we’re a little overworked and understaffed. [clears throat] Um, at any rate. [pens rattling in cup] With how Emilio described you, this interview is mainly just a formality, but you don’t mind if I take notes, right? Perfect! Let me just get sorted. [papers rustling]

Why don’t you go ahead and tell me a little about yourself. I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve done this kind of work [chuckle] but everyone had to start somewhere. And Emilio said you had some experience in food service. For now we can keep it as personal as you like. I’ll go through your resume during the hiring process. 

[humming in agreement, recognition, pen scratching, heavy sigh] I’m so sorry to hear that. With everything that’s been going on, I can’t imagine how rough it must be, dealing with that on top of the loss of your spouse. I don’t need anything special to tell that you’ve been through the wringer lately. I can practically feel how stressful it is [sad chuckle]. And being in a completely new town, let alone state? Everything must feel so fresh and terrifying. I certainly hope the transition was easy. [soft skin-to-skin contact, patting hand] If there’s anything I can do to make this process easier, let me know. 

I remember when I first moved to California, everything was so different from how it was in the midwest. Uhuh, yeah! I spent my, uh, formative years [chuckle] bouncing around the midwest. Michigan was always my favorite. Tried university, but there weren’t any that taught what I was looking for. Everyone thought I should be learning what everyone else like me was learning, but all I really wanted to learn to do was cook. I saw how it made people happy and that’s what I wanted to do. I mean, obviously, right? [laughs] I spent some time in Chicago and I’m still not sure why those people don’t put ketchup on their hot dogs. Ketchup’s great. [clears throat] Sorry, listen to me rambling. Long story short, I understand what it’s like, moving cross-country and all. 

Honestly, if you decide that this isn’t something you want to do at all, I completely understand. There’ll always be more applicants and I’m sure there’s someone else up for the job. I’m sure you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. We’ll, of course, keep your resume on file if you decide to revisit this offer.

Ah, no, I get it! I’m the same way. Some people need to rest through their grief and others need to wrestle through it. No point in sitting around in a new home where all of your recent changes are so clearly apparent if it’s just gonna make you feel worse. If you need to work through your heartache, it might as well be through, well, working [chuckle]. 

Speaking of working, should you decide to take the job, we’ll start you out at the host stand. It’s really very easy and relaxed. We don’t take reservations and truth be told, we’re never overly busy so the most you would be doing is showing people to their seats, taking drink orders, and keeping an eye on wait times. That being said, if hosting doesn’t end up being your thing, we can move you to something else and go from there. We have the kitchen of course, as well as a fully operational bakery. We could also move you to serving, if that’s more up your alley.  

We try to rotate responsibilities every so often, just so everyone has the opportunity to hone their skills and stretch their metaphorical and physical legs [chuckle]. But if you find you’re more particular to the bakery than to hosting or hosting than to serving or anything like that, we can of course accommodate. Any questions? 

Yeah, sure. So all positions have the same starting rate which you’ll find is well above minimum wage. I prefer to keep my employees as happy and stress-free as possible. You can accept tips, but I would obviously pay you a livable wage as well. We usually ask people to donate to local charities as opposed to tipping, but there’s always the generous few who won’t take no for an answer. 

Sick days and holidays aren’t really a thing, either. We have an honor system. Basically if you’re scheduled to work, you’re getting paid for the day. If something comes up and you can’t make it, as long as you let me or your coworkers know as soon as possible, you’re getting paid for the day. If we close early or you get cut early because of how slow it is, you get paid for the full day. Holidays are the same. We’re closed on most calendar and religious holidays, but you’ll get paid regardless. Same goes for both solstices. Not sure where you fall on that spectrum, but we’re closed both days, regardless. 

And if you ever find anything to be a bit too much, we can of course work out some mental health days and vacation time for you. Any other questions?

[hums] Uhuh. So as far as uniform goes, we don’t ask much. We’ll give you a few free t-shirts and a sweatshirt when you start, but other than that, we’re really chill. Just dress in whatever’s comfortable and appropriate. If you decide you want to work in the kitchen, we do ask that you follow food safety laws, but we provide aprons and such. We also have a shoe program to keep you in something reliable and safe. Anything else?

When can you start? [laughs] I have a feeling I’m gonna like you, super star! You’re gonna fit right in. I know this must feel like such a relief, having a place to land after all the changes you’ve experienced recently. We’ve been in a bit of a slump as of late, what with everything going on. I think a fresh new face will definitely get everyone out of the rut we’ve been in. 

[papers shuffling, tapping on desk, chair scraping] I’ll admit, I was a little worried when the Department said they were gonna be sending someone down for an interview. I figured you guys were all stuffy office jockeys, especially an investigator [scoffs, chuckles]. And I know you’re gonna take the whole ‘keeping an eye on things’ seriously, but you’re just such a doll. At any rate, I’ll get all this put away and-

I’m sorry? Oh right, sorry. Yeah, DUMP said you’d be coming. Don’t worry, you didn’t surprise me or anything, dear.

Oh. Oh. You’re not from the Department? [swallows] You… don’t know what the Department is? [stammers] Oh my god. I’m gonna be in so much trouble. I should have asked for a badge and- [deep breaths, pacing footsteps] I could just…no… no no no no no, you need this job. And I think I need you too [tight laugh]. I did think you um, felt a little off, but I figured it was just the stress and the grief and… ooh sorry, I’m gonna stop talking now. 

Okay, okay, okay [grounding breath]. [To himself] This is all gonna be okay, Percy. We just need to have a chat with the hosts about communicating exactly what is said on phone calls regarding applications and interviews.

What? Oh, I’m so sorry. Please completely disregard, um, all of that? Um, it should go without saying that you definitely got the job! I mean, I already kind of implied that, but I can see how all of that could make you reconsider that assumption. You definitely got the job. I’ll call you, or would you prefer text? You know what, never mind! I’ll just text you to ask later [nervous laugh]. We’ll set up a day and time for you to get started. In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I now have another interview to prepare for. One much more frightening than this one [clears throat]. 

[out of breath] Please grab something to eat or drink on the way out, and please tell Emilio that I’m covering it. I’m sure these last few minutes have been equally as stressful for you as they have been for me. 

Anyways, I’m very, very excited to have you join the team, super star. I’ll walk you out [door opens, closes].

~~~

this takes place directly after the Inversion

If it wasn't totally clear the listener character (called Super Star, but will later be shortened to just Star) is an uninformed, unempowered human who called ahead about getting an interview at Elysium Eatery. They come prepared with a resume and a cover letter and dress up for the occasion. However, the speaker character, Perseus, or Percy, was expecting a different person for the interview. DUMP has been sending investigators and field officers into empowered businesses across town to keep an eye out for stray shades or any more trouble under the guise of employment at these empowered businesses. They've chosen Elysium to be one of these such businesses. It was originally supposed to be Sweetheart taking the job at Elysium, but it didn't pan out, due to Star being hired instead.

Thumbnail Template from @mokozroach

Logo and Thumbnail made on Canva

[calla-celtigar]

creatures of the sea

a dialogue within @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood, a closed starter with @daltongreyjoy-asoiaf-rp

The crab and the kraken. Lady Calla Celtigar did not miss the irony of her meeting in the beauty of the Red Keep’s lush gardens, the season leading to the bloom of intricate red and yellow flowers. Calla had been fond of the gardens since the day she arrived in King’s Landing many years ago. There were few flowers on Claw Isle, more stone and moss than flower and wood. However, King’s Landing tamed beasts in these gardens, both man and animal. Calla Celtigar was curious to see if it would do the same to Lord Greyjoy, the infamous Red Kraken. 

Her small fleet of trading ships had sent word-filled trepidation over the arrival of some of the Greyjoy fleet. Dalton Greyjoy had made an impression across Westeros, even to her Celtigar men who solely traveled the Narrow Sea. She heard the omens of ships with black and gold squids. But Calla did not fear Dalton Greyjoy due to his purpose of travel. The lords of Westeros had come to swear loyalty before to the dragon. Perhaps the kraken could not be tamed, but he could be made to bow.

Calla pondered these thoughts as she winded through the rows of shrubbery and curated flowers, politely nodding to the other ladies of the court who walked past. It had been some time since she had the moment to enjoy the space due to her duties to Princess Rhaenyra, and it was clear that her absence had been noted. However, the ladies kept their distance in the path due to the hunting hound that padded beside her. Her maids had tended to Moddey as best they could, but her old hound preferred her company in such places as this. His grey fur had been soft under her fingertips as she walked, and the dog instinctively leaned on the folds of her velvet dress as she turned a corner. Moddey had always been quiet as a shadow, but he made his presence known by physical touch. She had wondered how Moddey had ever been a trained wolf hound until she looked at the scars that marred his muzzle. Many of the pelts Lord Bartimos displayed in his court Moddey had a part in her grandsire's travels to Crackclaw Point and beyond.

The hound was a predator in the garden and not the only one as Calla set her eyes upon the Lord of the Iron Islands. He looked all the parts of the Greyjoys she had both heard and read about. He was hewn out of dark sea stone, unyielding and weathered. She looked over him, memorizing the details she could only imagine before this encounter.

“Lord Greyjoy.” Calla stepped forward to him with a deep incline of her head, her ringed hands wrung behind her back. There was no smile on her face but neutral respect for one of the realm's most powerful lords. Rarely had a Celtigar interacted with a Greyjoy in history.

“I appreciate the time you have taken to meet with me today.” She waved a hand forward, beckoning him forward as she began to walk down an alternate path, Moddey trailing behind her now with dark eyes. She turned her head to Dalton, pearls swaying in her hair as she did so. Two creatures of the sea, walking on land because of duty.

“I hope the city and the Red Keep are treating you and your family well.” Calla had done her research before preparing this meeting with him, learning the number of his wives and his children. The Red Keep would be crawling with krakens in the coming days. She had already heard the whispers in the halls of the castle. The children were uncouth and illborn, and their father a vicious heathen. Calla was curious about what Lord Greyjoy would do when the words came to his ear. But those were words of the future and in no way the purpose of her arranged meeting.

“Do you enjoy history, Lord Greyjoy?” Calla let the question hang in the air as they walked, the stone clicking under their feet as they slowly moved forward. Perhaps he would appreciate a blunt offer, but she sensed otherwise when treating with the man who paid the Iron Price.

[holymolyathenablog]

⚠️IMPORTANT OUT OF CHARACTER NOTES⚠️

The Holy Moly AU is a very serious AU, involving themes such as drug use/abuse, addiction, and potential sewer slide thoughts/s3lf h4rm. This AU is not for the faint of heart, and I hope you understand how serious it is. Please proceed with caution.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"When Athena is sober, she'll talk like this."

"When she is drugged, she'll talk like this."

'Athena talks to Moly like this when she's communicating in her thoughts.'

{moly will speak like this.}

(OOC: This is me out of character!)

(This is an AU where Athena turns to Holy Moly as a solution to her problems and her trauma. Yes I'm absolutely talking about the root used against Circe in the Circe Saga. I'm still fleshing this AU out properly, but we're getting somewhere!)

(A quick explanation: Moly is the representation of the drug, a hallucination Athena often sees, moreso when high. Moly looks like a twisted version of my Pallas design.)

(My main account is @grape-jucie-dog , where I am most active :3)

Tags for Athena:

#athena rants (for posting)

#athena isn't sober again (for when she's high)

#moly is here too (when moly is in the post)

#athena responds (for the inbox)

#epic rp blog (self explanatory)

(Tags for me:)

#ooc

#out of character

#out of character post

Warning tags:

#cw drugs

#cw drug abuse

#tw: suicidal thoughts

#tw s3lf harm

#cw nauseous

#tw emetophobia

#cw dissociation

#cw depression

[murdermepeacefully]

Brahms Heelshire Headcanons

Honestly I'm not sure why it took me so long to do Brahms, given I've been writing him since mid 2022. But I've been really vibing Slasher Headcanon posts lately, and today, it's his turn! [Updated: 12/2/24]

As always, these are of course my own personal opinion, but feel free to reblog, add onto them, ask questions about them, or add them to the ones you accept yourself! I absolutely love hearing from others on their thoughts.

.♡♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡♡.

Headcanons from the Movie:

The Greta doll [Or the Nanny doll, for fics or content where the nanny is an OC or the reader] was never intended as anything dark/kinky/etc. It was simply Brahms mirroring how he'd seen affection shown towards him. I went into this in more detail on this post, if you're interested.

While he doesn't have the ability/time to do things like take care of his hair or shave, he does shower when the nanny is outside doing the rat traps.

When he can risk it, he'll sneak his clothes in with the laundry, but that became more difficult once his parents left. He's sometimes able to manage it by putting a few things in with sheets/blankets, but more often than not he'll simply use the clothes his dad left behind when he needs something clean to wear.

Def a clingy boy. Likes being able to have some form of physical contact with his partner, or at least be able to see/hear them if he can't do that.

Sometimes doesn't understand things that one would expect an adult to know, simply because his parents didn't teach him. The best way to address moments like this is to correct any mistakes gently, and teach him what he needs to know. [This does not mean to treat him like a child, just be patient and don't use a judgmental tone.

Occasionally has trouble processing emotions, especially negative ones, due to his father having a 'men don't cry' mindset.

Headcanons from Fanfic or Fandom Interactions:

Once he's ready to do so, he's okay with being seen without his mask. Respecting the boundary of letting him decide when that happens is a great way to show you care/trust/love him.

Definitely nervous about leaving the property, but he can manage if he's not alone at first. Once he's been out with someone he trusts enough to adjust to things like the crowds, levels of noise, and the environments, he's ok with splitting up for short periods of time.

When he goes out, he wears a cloth mask to cover the lower half of his face, so that the scarring will draw less attention.

Random Headcanons:

He's 100% the big spoon, regardless of a partner's size. While he does enjoy being held, he prefers to do so when he's holding his partner at the same time.

Really loves having his hair played with, especially if combined with kisses or cuddles.

Dog person [Cats are too aloof, and he enjoys the energy dogs can have. They're also a good way to get him going outside in the fresh air again]

Likes to slow dance with partners at times, because it reminds him of sneaking down the stairs and seeing his parents slow dancing together.

18+ Headcanons🌶️🔞:

Spicy Headcanons:

This man does not know his own strength, so do not be surprised at all if you have bruises in the shape of his hands.

Definitely a switch, because he can enjoy both being the one in control and the one being controlled.

loves seeing his partner climax, but prefers it to be from him doing it than them doing so.

He likes to restrain with consent, because it means that there's no escape.

100% respects safe words however, and generally uses the traffic light system of red means stop, yellow means slow down/pause, and green means good to keep going.

A bit into somnophilia [sex with someone asleep]

Does not like NonCon RPs or scenarios, even in a consensual noncon scenario. He prefers his partner to be very clearly, enthusiastically, consenting.

Age Regression Headcanons: NOTE: I am not intending to say that age regression on it's own is spicy or kink. However, I feel it best to keep it under the 18+ cut to be safe.

One of his favorite modern children's shows is Bluey. This is partially due to the characters being dogs, partially because of the parenting dynamics shown, and partially because there are heavier/more adult topics addressed in a way that's easy to process/understand.

Sometimes will relate to characters deeply, and can use that to communicate a bit more easily. [A main example is Bingo in Dance Mode]

To add onto the above, if a nanny/partner sees him upset and prompts 'Checklist', he will recite off Chilli's checklist from the episode The Show, while allowing himself to do the items on it. It started as a way to help him address his emotions in a healthy way, but soon became something that helps both him and his nanny/partner, as he can do the same thing with them.

The checklist is as follows: ✓ Have a Cry ✓ Pick Myself Off ✓ Dust Myself Off ✓And keep going.

Likes doing coloring pages or other simple crafts, and will often proudly present his partner with the end result.

Loves it when they put it on the fridge where it can be on display.

Eventually turns his childhood room into a 'Littlespace' room for him to go to whenever he like. This means painting the walls a soft, comforting color, putting soft rugs on the floor, adding prism window clings to the window to cast rainbows all about the room, a permanent pillow fort, and a TV with a DVD player and VHS player on a wheeled table that can be moved anywhere in the room, with a bookshelf full of movies from their childhood, as well as more modern ones.

One of his favorites is Quest For Camelot.

[alexandraisyes]

How are you doing?

Do you want an honest answer or a watered down haha cutesy artist answer?

I could be worse, to put it simply. It’s been a very. . . Excitable week. And month. And life.

I’m dealing with medication withdrawals that will last another month. They have me sicker than a dog right now, physically at least. My mental stamina is fine, it’s definitely been worse in the more recent past. I’m making a pretty good stress recovery from the past three months of harassment from varying sources, but there is no rest for the wicked.

I’m about 95% positive that I’m being actively stalked by someone from the whole August fiasco, someone who I’ve had blocked since the beginning of August. A (former) friend of mine that I had met through the rp blogs I did designs for turned out to be a sexual predator who was grooming the minors in said group, and I recently had to cut them off after confronting them about it. So that’s great. Both of these things are giving me mild stress, especially because neither of these people know when the fuck to quit and have a long history of stalking and harassment.

However, I’m finally writing again. I’m trying to get back on my current projects, as well as the newer project I’m working on. I’ve completed some commissions, I’ve made a couple self indulgent artworks, and even some art for friends. So I’m being productive.

I’m finally back to watching the shows, although this migraine the past few days has put a rather sudden pause on that. Hopefully I can get back on schedule within the next couple of days. I’m once again finding enjoyment in taking them apart too, which is always a good sign. A large part of why I went on a sudden hiatus was due to the harassment the past few months, but I’ve had some sense knocked into me about the matter by my everlasting and ever loving parents that had me seriously questioning why I was letting it affect me to the point I couldn’t function?

I moved back in with my parents last month. I haven’t fully unpacked, my executive function has been lacking when it comes to sorting boxes. Especially since the last time I was here it was only for a month before I had a fight with my folks and had no option but to leave. However we’re reaching that one month mark so fingers crossed that history won’t repeat itself.

In all honesty it’s been going a lot smoother than I expected. I’ve done a lot of yard work while I job hunt, and so I’ve been left relatively alone and to my own devices since I’m sacrificing so much of my time to clean up the property. It’s been a good distraction, and I’ll be honest I needed the vitamin D.

Unfortunately I’m running out of things to do around the property to prepare for winter. No more Vitamin D for me. Probably for the best, I don’t want to burn out.

Speaking of jobs, I have one now. I need to go in tomorrow and turn in the hiring paperwork, and then yippee I will have a steady source of income. It’ll probably only be part-time pay, but that’s okay. A job is a job.

I managed to reach my goal for donations, thanks to my friends and this wonderful community. All of my bills have been secured, with a little excess that I’ll use to buy new pants for work (can’t go in pantless). I cannot be more grateful to this community for handing together to help me reach my goal so I can afford to keep doing things like drive (which is extremely necessary when you live in the middle of rural countryside) and live in a house (as much as my parents love me I do have to pay rent since my dad is disabled and cannot support the family anymore).

My social life is fine. I’ve made a lot of close friends over the past few months, misery loves company and all of that. It’s ironic how we were all more or less strangers to each other, and yet these series of events have made us extremely tight nit as a little online village. I’ve made quite a few new friends too, just by being obnoxious. It is what I do best after all.

There isn’t a really an easy answer to questions like this when you have a busy life. I could just say “oh I’m fine” but that’s not honest. That’s not transparent or real, and I try to be both of those things. I’m not entirely sure what “fine” would look like, and by society’s standards I’m definitely not fine in any fashion. But we all make do with the hands we’ve been dealt.

I’ve become extremely close friends with a malignant narcissist (short term would be narcopath) and I find their presence a comfort. I continue to work on projects with friends, and abstain from creating new ones. I’ve caught up on a few different fanfics while I’ve been sick these past couple of days, and that’s always nice. I’m trying to do my best to give back to the community what was given to me (metaphorically), but being bedridden these past couple days has prevented me from achieving that very well. I’ve grown a fondness for TikTok animations and animatics, and have been considering making a few of my own.

Oh yes, also a month or so ago I bought a graphics tablet for my laptop and am looking into learning 3-D modeling. It would be fun to make my own VRChat avatars, plus it’s always handing to have more skills under your belt.

And my apologies if this runs long, or stops making sense at some point, I’m still fairly delirious and it is late as I write this, even though it will post sometime in the morning long after I’m asleep.

I’m doing well, to put it simply. Nothing in life will ever be just right, and I frankly don’t expect it to, nor do I wish for a perfect life. The only way we learn is through hardship, after all. I could always be better, but I could be much much worse as well. I’m just glad I’ve got plenty of time on my hands to swindle away even between writing, and art, and videos, and work. Due to a fairly rigorous sleep schedule I’ve about 16 hours of the day to spend at my leisure, and that already feels like too much excess time.

To the point I’ve taken to playing mobile games simply to pass it by.

So hopefully getting a job in town, one with a paycheck, will help manage some of that boredom. I’m sure I’ll still have plenty of excess time regardless, I always seem to be swimming in it.

And I’m sure I’ve concluded this post multiple times by now, but I truly am doing well enough. Talking about it helps me figure out and rationalize my mental health. It’s a bit like psychoanalyzing myself, for the word to to witness as if I’m just another one of the silly characters dancing on the screen. It is truly a beneficial experience for myself, however, since I’m able to truly process any emotions that might have been hiding behind triggers.

And here I go on another tangent, so I’ll cut it off here.

[ask-the-doppelganger]

MASTERPOST

LORE

About The Doppel

The Doppelganger is just a doppelganger from That's Not My Neighbor. Pronouns it/its. it has taken the forms of several humans, sometimes successfully. Some of the less successful ones include, but aren't limited to Arthur with his eyes sewn shut and Snail Mia. It still likes the Snail Mia form the most.

Notable relationships:

Steven Rudboys: some of the first run-ins of the blog are with him. Him and the Doppel are mutually terrified of each other; Steven called the DDD on the Doppel, resulting in it turning into a pigeon.

Nacha Mikaelys: She's under the Doppel's protection and has its undying loyalty. Unfortunately, it expresses that by being bloodthirsty at basically anyone who wronged Nacha. They have the dynamic of a vicious attack dog and its handler trying to avoid casualties.

Smiles the clown: A friend to the Doppel. He's a doppelganger as well, though he's usually harmless - but he has the same dynamic with Nacha as the Doppel.

Lemon tree merchant: started out as a joke character, but it's a key player in the story now. He sells lemon trees that grow clones of humans.

THE CLOWN LORE

I think this is the most confusing part, and it comes from beloved @tnmnclown

I'll do this one in list format.

Smiles the clown (canonically) delivers flyers that talk about a gambling clown that appears in people's dreams

Chuckles the clown is the one who actually appears in people's dreams; he is very supernatural.

His victims keep losing to him in their dreams, waking up more and more hurt, and they eventually die.

My new character, the Shadowy Weirdo (name pending) will eventually become a character. Their ultimate goal is to win a game against Chuckles.

RP THREADS AND PLOTLINES

Encounters with Nacha - part 1 & part 2 in which the Doppel bonds with Nacha a whole lot.

Encounters with Steven -

stop looking at me like that, a friendlier one

what gun would you use, in which the Steven calls the DDD on the doppel; because that, it gets stuck in the shape of a pigeon.

Town terror: under the 'town terror story' tag. The Doppel helps to take down a big dangerous doppel, in exchange for some hair. The hair is then used to buy a tree from the Lemon Tree Merchant in another thread (//TODO link it when I'm not on mobile)

Getting captured part 1 and part 2, ongoing; the pigeon-shaped doppel is very unfortunate and gets found out by Steven.

Reappearance of David

He's back - David, the person Smiles was pretending to be, presumed dead, is alive and bewildered

He called the DDD and how the pigeon finds out

Asking for Nacha's help

Clown turned out to be alive

on different blogs: David and Smiley are roomies now and they don't like it

TAGS

//TODO linking them properly

Ask the Doppelganger: more or less standalone asks.

In character: every time the Doppel or Shadowy Weirdo speaks.

Out of character: every time the mod speaks. Yes, this means some posts will have both the in character and out of character tags.

Maintenance post: info regarding the blog.

Headcanons: what it says on the tin. It's mostly on Doppel biology.

Town terror story: dedicated to that plotline.

RP thread: chains with more than three replies. //TODO: actually tag the posts

End of thread: this will be marking finished threads.

Character tags:

The Doppelganger

Tnmn clown

Unlikely clown

Steven Rudboys

Nacha Mikaelys

Lemon Tree Merchant