#I PROMISE ILL FINISH THIS I SWEAR I SWEAR

[bones4thecats]

➸ Their S/O Is A Singer; Twisted Wonder.

Character: Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Viper (separate) A/N: <3<3<3<3 Disclaimer(s): Nothing bad, just fluffy singing

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╚═════ Azul Ashengrotto ═════════════════════════╝

🐙 As Azul wrote a new document, he heard something coming from the Lounge. It couldn't be Jade of Floyd, they were perfectly silent whenever they cleaned up. That and they were feeling ill earlier, probably those damn mushrooms that Jade got and they ate...

🐙 The Housewarden of Octavinelle stood, putting his quill back inside the ink as he walked out to find the location of the melody

🐙 He walked around, looking in every nook-and-cranny he came upon, only to come up empty-handed. This was quite odd, if it was a ghost by chance, what ghost sings? Unless they were a siren, which would be highly unlikely, as their kind was practically a myth for the peaceful mer-people of their time

🐙 Azul finally came upon the main room. He noticed the surroundings, all tables and chairs in place, all other decorations of utensils placed in their respective spots for later that morning when Mostro Lounge opened, but what he noticed first wasn't an object

🐙 He noticed you first

🐙 You stood there, cleaning a nearby table off with a happy tune falling from your lips. It was mesmerizing, he's heard some very talented singers in his years, but nobody matched your vocals, not by a long-shot

🐙 As you swayed around, eyes closed and unknowing to him standing there, he recounted each word you sang and put it into his mind for memories he could look back on happily

🐙 Azul smiled gently and cross his arms, watching him with a happy figure, singing away and with your voice just flowing out like a mermaid's would when singing to their newborn child. Like how his mother used to sing to him whenever he was upset

"I can't promise picket fences. Or sunny afternoons. But, at night when I close my eyes."

🐙 He has heard this song playing on a playlist you had made him. It was full of many romantic, slow, and sweet songs to keep him calm while he worked. And as you had your back to him, he silently walked up behind you and began singing his own verse in the song

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love ya."

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standin' in your dress. Swear in front of all our friends. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life." You sang together.

🐙 As you looked at one another, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him smile as you finished your duet together...

"And there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life..."

🐙 ...before sealing the song with a loving kiss

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 You hummed as you finished dressing yourself after your shower. Helping out Jamil today was harder than you expected, but you did prevent Kalim from celebrating getting an A on his test, so there's something

🐍 Jamil had finally made sure Kalim was laying down and sleeping when he came to his room. You were staying the night in his, since your dorm, Pomefiore, was currently having some issues with flooding (thanks to Epel running away and crashing into a pipe)

🐍 He had just made it to his door when he heard your voice coming through like a flute. It was gorgeous. He's heard some amazing singers, but nobody could compare to your voice

🐍 It sounded better than he could ever imagine. Of course, you hummed while you worked, but you never have gone full-singer on him before. But, he had to admit, he loved it so much right now

"Broken with bruises, I don't wanna screw this up. And lord knows I'm jealous. Of how she looks at me like that. If only I could see it too."

🐍 He frowned sadly, this song was about somebody feeling like they were nothing compared to how they could be. It reminded him of how he felt about you on the daily. He's caused so many issues, yet you always stayed with him, despite the obvious better choices around you both

🐍 Jamil took a deep breath and walked inside, taking his Scarabia vest off and laying it down as he begun to hum alongside you before lying down. You weren't shocked, you heard his footsteps earlier and kept singing as you put on one of your boyfriend's many hoodies and laid beside him in bed, slowly taking out his braids and massaging his scalp

"Is it a sin? To love someone who loves another man. If it is then I repent. 'Cause I don't know the man that she claims I am. I could never be as good as him. But I love her more than anything. Don't know why she'd ever fall for me. She says that I'm the only one she'll ever love. But when I'm looking into her eyes. I swear that there's a better guy..."

🐍 Looking down at your boyfriend, you smiled, his eyes closed as you leaned down and kissed his forehead before resting your eyes yourself

"I love you so much, Jamil..."

[grandvampiress]

redid my (unfinished) redraw strangetown thing but, well, this version is also still unfinished but hey atleast i got to draw past the strangeteens

[sapphire-to-the-rain]

wip wednesday

guys PROMISE not to flame me if i post this on ao3 and this part completely changes between now and finishing the chapter. anyway here you go enjoy!!!!

yellow_sylveon: are u awake

yellow_sylveon: i can’t sleep lmao

Sent 17m ago

Nymphia sighs and shoves her phone under her pillow, rubbing at her eyes. It’s almost two in the morning, and she should probably– definitely, should definitely be asleep. Instead, she’s been lying here awake for the past thirty minutes, counting the shutters on her blinds. (Shutters must not work as well as sheep, clearly, because she’s still awake.)

She can’t remember when texting her best friend became her new normal for when she couldn’t sleep, or when she was bored in class, or really any time she had an excuse. All she knows is that she doesn’t even have to think about it anymore; her fingers navigate to their messages like it’s second nature. 

Now if only said best friend would stop leaving her on delivered, and actually reply.

She might be asleep already, Nymphia reasons, turning under her blankets to face the wall. Which might be for the best, because starting conversations after midnight is a very reliable way for Nymphia to accidentally stay up until the inky oranges and golds of sunrise start peeking through her windows, but still. She can’t sleep, and she has that weird hollow feeling that she knows won’t quite go away until she talks to someone, and more often than not that someone is usually–

Bzz.

All thoughts of sleep abandoned, Nymphia scrambles to fish her phone out from under her pillow. She has to squint a little at the bright light, but she smiles anyway at the two new notifications that have appeared on her lockscreen. 

pj3847: why are you still up

pj3847: loser

[thatonechocogirl]

k i dont have artblock anymore

thats why i havent drawn ber bros lately

but anyway i sketched this out during class and just decided to color it when i came home; its nothing special, just my pony sona :]

[zumicho]

FROYAOYA FACE REVEAL!!! here are genuine, real pictures of me as I read ness’ reblogs!!!!

did u get clickbaited did it work. or is readbaited the word

[mechanicalowls]

Want Me To

a terrornoss fic inspired by my possibly in michigan animatic

chapter 1 - the mall

warnings: none

rating: t (this doesn't apply to later chapters)

chapter below the cut:

He was here again.

A shopping mall, an ancient one at that. Not dilapidated by any means, but completely unpopulated. There were signs of life everywhere, the lights were on, albeit dim, the grills in the food court sizzled from ever present grease that never seemed to burn. Music hummed through each store, the playlist of one clashing with another and another and so on and so forth. A near silent echo bounced off the walls, like there were people here, walking, talking, and going about their business.

But he was alone.

There was no one else.

Well, except for him.

Brian wasn't sure what would've freaked him out more; being completely alone, or knowing someone else was here. 

Day in and day out, he found himself here, in this mall. It seemed as though it was stuck in time, yet whoever owned it refused to let it die. No one ever entered, well, besides Brian, of course. The parking lot was always empty, as were the stores within. No customers, no employees, no one.

Except for him.

For weeks now, Brian found himself being called back to this place. He'd black out one minute, then regain his senses the next and he'd be sitting in his car, in the barren parking lot. 

And he'd always get out.

And he'd always go in.

Brian wasn't exactly sure what compelled him to keep coming back. He'd only discovered this place doing some urban exploration. He'd seen some videos of guys finding and exploring crazy abandoned places, getting into all sorts of trouble with vagrants and lawmen alike. Deciding he needed something in his life that wasn't wholly depressing, Brian drove around his city for hours in search of places to do his own urban exploration.

He wasn't a professional by any means, but he wasn't stupid either. He didn't touch anything he found, he checked floors of decrepit buildings for sturdiness before stepping onto them, and he kept his phone charged and silent at all times.

The last thing he wanted was to get lost.

Unfortunately, he'd run into a number of “professional” urban exploration groups along the way, each more insufferable than the last. They were all made up of the most spoiled, egotistical people he'd ever laid eyes and ears upon; all wanting to be the next big thing and get their five minutes of fame.

So when his usual stomping grounds became overrun with pests pointing cameras at him, he had enough. Brian jumped through spot after spot, somehow meeting the same two groups over and over again.

They were following him, probably.

Yet somehow, they hadn't found this place. At least, not yet anyways.

During one of his drives to escape the wannabe vloggers, Brian pulled into the parking lot of this mall. Like every time after, he didn't even realize he had until he blinked and took in his surroundings.

The big, almost new looking sign proudly displayed the name Blue Cascade Shopping Mall: Something for Everyone!

(Brian had yet to figure out what his something was.)

A quick Google search had shown him the mall had been in business since 1979, and the website displayed pictures taken no sooner than 1992.

Despite this, Brian felt (for what he didn't realize would be the first of many times) a compulsion to push onward into the shopping center.

Ever since then, he'd been coming here regularly.

And ever since then, he'd been seeing him regularly.

A man, Brian guessed, completely cloaked in darkness. Even in the dim neon lights that illuminated the whole mall, Brian could only make out the man's eyes and teeth; always curled upwards in a smile, and always watching him.

Brian was terrified, of course he was. The figure never moved, yet somehow followed him everywhere. He never spoke, yet Brian felt as though he was the one that beckoned him to come back almost every day.

Despite this, Brian could never stop himself from coming back day after day. If he skipped a day, choosing instead to stay at home or go to work, he felt ill. He felt lightheaded, he felt queasy, and he ached. Yet, once that silent voice drew him back into the mall, Brian was instantly alright again. The mall didn't fill him with a sense of euphoria, or calm, or anything that would make him want to come back.

It just made him normal again. No matter how hard his heart beat in his chest when he spotted the shadow man gazing at him from behind a clothing rack or service desk. It made him normal again, and that's all he could really ask for; even if this place was to blame for his ailments in the first place.

The mall haunted him, not just beckoning him back during his waking hours, but drawing him in during his limited night’s sleep.

He was always in the mall, wandering the halls like he did most days. The only difference? The shadow man came to him. He'd get closer and closer, his gaze predatory and lustful. 

His wispy arms would wind all around him, grasping around Brian's middle, trailing up and down Brian’s arms, gently massaging his shoulders.

Pulling Brian’s hair violently, slapping Brian across the face.

Closing tightly around Brian's throat.

Brian would scold his dreaming self for never fighting back, never resisting, even when it seemed as though the shadow man was out for blood.

His blood.

When he was able to escape the shadow man's clutches, he would merely wander the mall the same he would during the day, the shadow man not far behind.

They would talk sometimes.

Why don't you come back to me, Brian? I get so lonely here by myself.

“Why don't you ever come ta me when I'm there?”

A chuckle.

Your fear, Brian. It elates me. When you finally see me and freeze like the little deer that you are, it fills me with such a wonderful feeling.

Brian would bristle at that.

“Would you let me get close if I wasn't afraid?”

A cold, shadowy hand curled around the side of his neck, carding upwards towards his chin, the corner of his eye, and finally rooting in his scalp; grasping, but not yanking. Brian froze in place.

Would you let me get close?

Another hand snaked up his back and closed around his throat, applying enough pressure to let Brian know it was there. He stiffened a bit, leaning his head backwards. He felt the cool and sturdiness of the shadow man's chest against his back; his wispy arms closed around his own like a cage.

Brian blinked, and let out a shaky breath. He felt the shadow man tense, like he had looked a greek monster in the eye.

“Would you hurt me if I did?”

Wrong question. 

The shadow man wrenched his scalp backwards, digging his nails in harshly. His fingers around his neck squeezed his throat, pressing deep into his flesh like he was trying to squeeze the air out of a balloon.

Or out of a person.

The shadow man growled deeply. Brian gasped for air and clawed at the hand around his airway. 

As much as he struggled against the shadow man's grasp, he didn't try to get away. He just wanted the man's grip to loosen, not to cease entirely.

He could feel the frigid breath of the man on his ear.

I think you want me to.

And Brian would wake with a start.

~~~

[imsogayyippee]

I am so fucking inspired to write rn but it's so late. I have to go to bed but like I'M GONNA FORGET WHAT I WANTED TO WRITE... uehfjebfj at least I made some progress on the fanfic ig. It's like the 3rd time I'm starting it over but I really like what I wrote this time :3

[fayehartz]

Green-eyed Damien anyone??

[yarboyandy]

Gethan won the poll now hand over the risque artwork

I'm sorry I'm low key a puritan so I'm scared to post it...it's giles pouring blood into Ethan's mouth. Something came over me when I was at my shitty wage slave job but I'm normal now

[organised-disaster]

Made some Snowbird things (again) using this picrew

Also some that match the conditions (sort of) that the post I found this with had [your current self with the younger version of yourself]

[toestalucia]

terrible mood -> thinking about captains & alliahs mess of families -> immediate improvement

[cosmobrain00]

early yarrow sibs refs because I have no self control

[buy-cheese-please]

woo ghosts hyperfixation is back!!!

[jaetaimjadore]

cryingggggg enha just released what im positive will be the masterpiece of a century, @lebrookestore finally showed up in my feed (f u tumblr 🖕), and the weather is ABSOLUTELY DIVINE but here i am stuck in interview prep hell T^T

[steelycunt]

19!!!!! PLEASE

HELLO BAB!! OF COURSE!! ANYTHING FOR YOU!!

The very first time and they’re seventeen in his fourth childhood bedroom—duck-egg wallpaper, ratty sheets, Harry Nilsson record turned down to a faint murmur and all but forgotten. There are the scratches he made in the doorframe, there’s the bed with the peeling paintwork, there’s the hands of the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen, twisting into his t-shirt: “can I...take this off?”

A floorboard creaking. “My dad’s downstairs,” Remus says, which isn’t an answer at all. He lays a hesitant touch of his palm to Sirius’ hip, the sharp poke of bone and a glimpse of bare skin above the waistband of his briefs.

He wants to say, we’ve never asked that question before. He wants to say, I’m not sure why you would want to do a thing like that. Sirius’ knuckles digging in to the soft stretch of his stomach, just barely. Remus imagines them leaving indentations there, as though his flesh is clay.

“But your door’s locked, no? Is he likely to knock?” Sirius looks down at him; fine dark hair falling against Remus’ skin, making him shiver. He has kissed him and kissed him again and now his mouth is all damp and red and ruined. Old-fashioned floral curtains. Nilsson’s cover of She’s Leaving Home drifting in, stepping outside, she is free.

“Or, I mean—” Sirius falters, “sorry, we don’t have to. Obviously. I thought—thought I’d ask, I know we haven’t done anything like that—”

“It’s alright.” Which it should be, really—it’s nothing Sirius hasn’t seen before. Remus and his body like a hit-and-run crime scene, his body that betrays him and complains about him and never seems to patch itself together quite right, his body that can’t be bothered with itself. It’s only ever been something to be dealt with, pacified, winced at, that scar won’t heal if you keep picking at it, those bandages ought to be changed.

A stack of books on the floor by his bed—Shelley, Burroughs. A hairline crack in the plaster of his ceiling. Remus has never thought of his body as something to be loved, to be wanted, and yet here’s Sirius, off-his-fucking-trolley Sirius, asking to make an altar of it anyway.

“You can take it off,” he tells him. “Go for it.”

“Yeah?” Sirius rakes his hair back, grins, split-skin and a small chip in one of his front teeth from playfighting with James when they were twelve: Remus adores it. “Alright, then. I love you. You know I love you?”

“Yeah.” And he does know it; knows it as Sirius’ lips are on his, and as he sits up against the headboard to let him tug his shirt up past his head. They’re laughing into each other’s mouths when his arms get stuck, noses smashing into each other. And all of it really just means I love you, over and over again.

Sirius tosses their shirts down somewhere. He turns back, and Remus’ breath rattles about in his throat like a blue-bottle for a moment—he watches for something, some twitch or twist of Sirius’ face that says disgust, that says horror. Thinks of all the white scar tissue scraped across his chest, or the awkward jut of his elbows, his ribs. Teeth marks torn into his side.

“You’re so lovely,” says Sirius, anyway. “Is this still okay? Can I touch you?”

(And, after this: Sirius will kiss bruise after gnawing bruise into Remus’ neck and down, down past his collarbones. Once it’s over, they’ll get dressed again, and Remus will stand in front of the bathroom mirror and try to hide every last one with a glamour, because his dad is downstairs. He’ll ask Sirius, did I miss any, are they all gone, you definitely can’t see them?

Sirius, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wearing that daft, lazy little smile that makes Remus’ lungs roll around inside him like marbles. You missed the one beneath your ear, Moony, just there.)

Remus nods, draws his arms over Sirius’ bare shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “Anywhere you like.”

[hannieehaee]

i might be insane bc y did i just write three fics back to back