#drawing em is so freaking fun

[delhe-dalim]

Color and shApE study 🐢

[cathalbravecog]

wanted to capture the toontown whimsy in this one

[em-cosplay42]

Started as joke I made @flowers-all-around-me​ back in summer I think? And then yea. F it I made update with Tim

And then I was like why not. Let´s make Brian babysit them all! On MJE and all nice, keeping the rest from murdering out planet before concert. And so I present you my work of last few weeks (done in laboratory in between experiments). The Brian babysitting other Mechanisms!

And Aurora of course, but she is far away. Don´t worry, all ropes are long enough to let them have their preferred entertainment reached! And bit thanks to Flowers (already mentioned) and to @brittleskyblue​ because motivation to do this was required. OWO

[peapod20001]

is he AWARE that he scares people? if so, does it upset him?

Oh he is very awfully PAINFULLY aware that people are scared of him. He HATES it more than anything. Some people don’t even want to get to know him because of the creepy vibes he gives off, a “better safe than sorry” sort of thing. People tend to stare or watch him, and that really upsets him (being the center of negative attention freaks him out bad)

He WANTS to get along with people, he WANTS to have conversations, he WANTS to have relationships, but so many people won’t give him a chance

The worst part about is people are scared of something he can’t change! His body! He’s always gonna be an off putting looking fellow and it breaks his heart! He just wants more people to be OKAY with him!

[chiropteracupola]

this wouldn't leave me alone so I had to draw it

[lt-kaollumn]

odo art for today

and heres just the lineart because i love nice crisp weighted lines.

rene had such a great way with body language which he leaned on during his performance as odo- i assume because his face was covered by a creepy skin-mask the whole time, limiting his facial expressions. very fun to see how he portrays this really gruff grumpy dude in his posture. he’s always skulking around with his head low and his nose high.

so i’ve finally got a good grasp on how to draw odo with stylistic flair. drawing goo is both meditatively fun and horribly tedious, 7/10.

i like his eyes. look at em. what a freak.

[51llything]

shelly is so fun to draw i just started off a piece and go VOILA

more stuffs down here check em all out!!1! ↓↓↓

okay but im actually starting to get freaked out did shelly actually possessed me or smth

[starsandnoodles]

Getting over my fear of posting this was CRAZY but here we go

MARX RPG

I’ve been working on this for days, made an accidental (The nova itself) and purposeful reference (the background) to Birth of a Wish by itsquakey (you should go check em out their art is SICK /pos)

- More ramblings below -

I wanted to make an RPG type thing with Marx for a while. Originally I was going to make an actually playable one but then realized I don’t have the time or knowledge to actually do that so I turned around and made it a video. Marx actually wasn’t the first idea I have for who the video would be about.

The first character I’d considered was actually Taranza but then… I’d have to draw Taranza and I was not in the mood. So I went with Marx.

The reference to Birth of a Wish (via the Nova specifically) wasn’t intended but someone I’d shown the video to pointed it out and I couldn’t leave it out in mention. The actually intended reference (the background) was specifically placed there because original all the video was going to be was some sample text and audio and then I got carried away and by that point I was over 200 images in on CapCut and unwilling to turn around.)

Where the plot was gonna go from here included the Nova having something to do with the rain in dreamland and being a small part of one of popstar’s larger moon’s or something of the sort meaning Kirby and Marx would have to find all the pieces to this “planet”. At least that’s what I imagined LMAO 😅

Note: Itsquakey if you ask me to take this down because of the references to your work I will without questions!

Last thing! I wanted to mention two posts I’ve seen that have done something similar that I think you should also check out!

Marx’s Fun Shop: while working on this I found that video and thought “wow! We even used the same music! That’s super freaking awesome!” The art here is amazing, the way Marx is written is also cool! You should go check this out!!!

Magolor’s Item Shop: A series of images in an RPG style that feature Magolor specifically! These are really cool and also what kinda struck the idea! They’re definitely worth checking out!

[goldsbitch]

Light Roast Mosaic

Five stages of a relationship, little moments captured at a small café in Monte Carlo, one melting into another. Is it one story? That is for the universe to know and for us to wonder.

warnings: fluff, angst featuring: Franco, Lando, Oscar, Charles, Max

//

Franco's first sip

"Another espresso?" the not-so-polite waitress glanced over both of them, her thick French accent pushing through.

Franco needed to look confident. Third coffee was totally fine and probably on brand with him, so what that his fingers were shaking?

"Yes, exactly," he smiled at her, doubting whether he kept the eye contact for too long or not enough. He was trying not to let his composure down.

His palms were already sweating, they had been for the past hour. Part of him wanted to get up and run away, the other would do anything to make sure you were glued to the chair you were sitting on forever.

The waitress left, leaving her opinions to herself and you were back at the semi-awkward conversation break again. He looked back at you, you averted and blushed, missing the part where he blushed too. The French waitress had just interrupted you telling a story about your sibling, one that still made you laugh years later. Your heart was beating fast - because you managed to make him laugh too.

"I'm sorry, so what happened next?" Franco asked leaning forward towards you.

You fiddled with your fingers. "Um, nothing, that is it, I believe," you replied, regretting that the wind was taken out of your punch line. You were nervous, hell, nervous times seven. And yet, the conversation flew back and forth, as if you wanted to use up all of your words on him and choke on his.

"Sounds like a fun childhood," he remarked naturally. You could feel his gaze burning through you. For some reason, you dared not to look back. Was this a date? You had just met few days ago at random and he kind of asked for your contact. Few DM's and one post-poned meeting and now you were here. Across him. No idea why his presence felt so exhilarating. This was a coffee in the afternoon. Just talking. Why did it produce the same chemical reaction as a rollercoaster ride?

"It was, but definitely not as cool as Argentina must have been," you replied and nonchalantly grabbed a sugar packet of the table and broke it apart on your small plate. You just had to do something with your hands, it was getting riddicculous and he would notice unless you did something. "Tell me about Argentina."

"I will, one day," he responded and your stomach exploded with butterflies at the thought of him suggesting another date, "but, first you tell me what you're doing," he asked, hinting at your sugar creation. In the meantime, another coffee cup landed in front of Franco.

"Um, nothing. It's something I always do. A habit, I guess." Lies, lies, lies. You'd never done this. But it was either this, or staring into his incredible eyes and you were not ready for that yet. Freaking him out was not the plan.

"Looks like you're drawing something," he observed and took a sip of his third coffee. Not that he was such a big of a fan of the bevarage. He just wanted to keep sitting there with you. You smiled, mindlessly. Perhaps yes, it did appear like a drawing. A flash of the memory of your grandma, pretending to be a tea leaves fortune teller, when you went young, came to your mind. You looked at him with a challenging look.

"Do you want me to read your future?" you asked, gaining some confidence from unknown sources. It was as if your body wanted to tease him. To lure him in and then never let him go. But you were also scared of the attraction you felt, so you know, casual confusion going on there.

"Can you read the future from, em, sugar?" he raised his brows with an amused, skeptical look. Then he took a big gulp on his coffee and failing at keeping it cool, he choked like a little kid. You couldn't help but laugh at the sudden loss of his "suave" look.

"You ok there?" you said, trying to push in your laughter.

Took him few coughs and deep breaths to compose himself before he spoke. "Ay, don't worry. Three coffees might be just enough...But, guess what?" he spoke, quickly back at his irresistible self.

"What, Franco?" Oh, you were so doomed.

"I just saw the future," he challenged you and licked his lips. Not that you noticed, no. Definitely not.

"And what did you see?" you replied, keeping a firm eye contact.

"Next Tuesday."

"Hm, so not that strong coffee, I guess," you diverted.

"Strong enough," he countered, not letting his gaze of your face.

You took a breath and surrended. "So, what did you see?"

"You and me on another date."

//

Two sugars

A quick coffee run before going back to the safety and comfort of your apartment. You and Oscar had a good run of days lately. Maybe too good. Your core almost ached when you walked, but that was a fair price for the bliss he made you feel. How many times in one day is too much? It looked like you were about find out. But first, coffee and some carbs.

You two picked a quiet corner away from the window, trying to enjoy the privacy Monaco offered sometimes. Sitting next to each other rather than across and having a whole table dividing you provided you both with a clear view on the café. Oscar was about to give a cheeky kiss and pushing you further into his embrace when you lightly pushed back and nodded to door. Oscar let a loud sigh out when he finally spotted Colapinto and Bearman walking in to get a take out after their run.

"God, I hope they don't notice us. I am not in the mood for F1 bullshit today," he murmured and sunk deeper into the chair.

"Uuh, beware, the young ones are coming," you teased and watched them. It was a relief to see them walk away immediately, locked in their own conversation and not noticing the self-absorbed couple in the back corner.

Oscar looked at you, puzzled. "Young ones? They are our age."

"I'm not talking about me, but you! Age works differently in F1," you said lightly and put your hand back on his upper arm.

He brushed your cheek with his hand. "Sweetheart, two years ago, you had no idea racing existed. Look at you now, almost ready for your own podcast!"

"Uuh, what would I talk about? Interesting..." you pretended to be lost in the thought of it and he did not buy it at all.

With a smirk, he made a simple comment. "Knowing you, you will always find something."

"I could talk extensively about prep before a race," you replied and stole a quick kiss from him.

"Is that so," he said and pulled you even closer to him and locked your lips again.

"Yeah. You know," you whispered between kisses "..stroke first, the touch the balls before you take him in your mo-"

He pulled away and put his finger on your mouth, trying to hide his amusement and quickly stepping in to avoiding finishing so easily. A habit, one might say. "Ok, ok, stop, there are people here," he pointed out, observing the cafe again. He was not that keen on PDA, but you managed to break through that wall, especially if you managed to keep him comfortable for longer period of time.

"Fuck people," you hoped one day he's become less worried about other people.

"You wanna fuck people? " he frowned, mildly disgusted once he eyed the cafe again. "Not an impressive crowd, interesting choice on your part," he teased you with his dead pan expression.

You rolled your eyes, typical Oscar. "Well, maybe not people, a person."

"If you say Lando again, I swear to God.." he added without missing a beat.

Oscar smirked and you mirrored his action. Even after a year and a half of teasing each other 24/7 it still felt fresh, like a ripe strawberry, still warm from the sun. You had each and every of his freckle mapped, he could tell just by the way you did your hair in the morning what kind of mood you'd have throughout the day.

"Come to the next race with me. Please," he pleaded, changing the tone of the conversation to more of a serious one, as he fiddled with a random strain of your hair. Then he licked his lips, as he would always do when something bothered him.

During the time you'd dated you visited only two races. People kept constantly nagging him about it, but he tried to put as little pressure on you as possible. Remembered more than vividly how a crowd of fans surrounded over you the first time around, nearly causing you a panic attack. You were never a crowds person. There wasn't much of a choice during a Grand Prix. You loved supporting him, sent him videos of your reaction to the race whenever something happened, for him to watch on the plane ride home. His favorite one was the one where you went on a five minute rant after his dive bomb in Baku. Like a parent who is trying to explain to a child that jumping of a cliff might not be the best idea. He found it adorable. Just wished he could have you there in person.

"I'll think about it."

//

Cold Brew

"Lando, you're lost in your thoughts again."

At the beginning it was easy. No drama, hard conversations avoided. Just pure fun and light weight life. She was willing to drop everything for him, come out to races and twirl around him, without needing any extra care. She was easy. But she was not you.

Lando smiled apologetically and tried to push the train of intrusive thoughts back in and focus on what his current girlfriend was saying. But it was so hard, when a Taylor Swift song was playing and a raspberry macaroon was just brought to the table next to them. Punch to his guts came free with that. It's been months now since you last spoke together. First two months were fairly easy, he found distractions and one of them even made it to this cafe as well and was now sitting across from him. With seasons turning, it was like you started to creep back in from every corner of each room. Impossible to escape your ghosts.

Lando felt like a prey, trying to escape attacks from everywhere. But there was no one attacking him, apart from his own brain. It's not that you were suddenly all over any place he was at, it's that his brain searched for you.

Was that your car outside? Did he just smelled your perfume? He could have sworn he just heard your heels.

He fiddled with a spoon in his almond milk latte. You hated when he would order that and joked about never kissing him again. It should make him happy that the girl sitting across from him has ordered the same drink as he had. She was a good match on paper.

Just not you.

"Lando, can you please listen to me?"

//

Second batch

"Y/N?"

You turned around, nearly dropping your phone and purse. It was a middle of a busy day for you, emails popping off like crazy and your mind was anywhere but present. The plan was to get a quick coffee and get into the office and join the emergency online meeting your boss initiated.

His voice was something you could recognize under any circumstances. But maybe, just maybe you were mistaken. You turned around slowly, just to make sure that you were correct. As your eyes met, it became clear you made no mistake. For few seconds, you just stared at each other.

"Hey, Charles."

Time stopped. There he was, once again in his full casual glam. He was really good at that, always had been. You never felt like you could keep up, back when you used to date. But it was a long time ago, you both grew up and years added on seemed to suit him well. Just like you observed him, he did you. It was clear you were in a rush, but also rushing somewhere where you were important and needed.

"How are y-"

"Your coffee, madame," the rude waitress interrupted Charles, a signature move you were more than familiar with as a local customer. Unlike Charles. He would usually avoid this place.

"Thank you," you turned your attention briefly towards her and took your coffee, balanced your things and took few steps away from the counter, not to disturb the lady more. Charles ignored anyone, but you. When you regained your composure, he tried asking again.

"How are you?"

His piercing blue eyes were dawning on you, a painting of conflicting feelings locked in them, begging to be set free.

"Um, yeah. Very busy currently," you spoke in a muted tone, still not fully comprehending that you just randomly bumped into him on a day like that.

Soft smile crept on his face. "You look busy." His eyes were trying to catch yours, without much success. Then they flashed to the top of your head and you knew that your hair was probably all over the place.

"Oh, fuck, is it that bad?" you asked, hoping for an honest answer. At least this one time.

He nodded. "It's just the-em..bun?"

"Can you please hold this?" you sighed and started handing him your things.

Without questions, he took your bag, coffee, another bag, notepad and held all of that while watching you trying to fix your hair. It was shorted than it used to be when you dated, he observed. Curlier. He wondered what kind of person you grew into.

"Ok?" you checked geniuenly for his approval, first time you fully locked eyes with him. Stood there, waiting for what he had to say.

Wondered was an understatement. His curiosity was burning him from inside. You used to never leave a stone untouched when you dated together. A quality he searched for ever since with no luck.

"Yeah, perfect," he managed to get out of him and began handing you your things back.

"Listen, I really gotta rush, so..."

It was obvious you were not lying, so he figured trying to keep you there would just make you mad. "Yeah, of course."

"Uh, see you, I guess," you said, barely waited for his response and hopped off to where ever you were originally headed to.

So many things he never found the guts to say. Never apologized. He was ready now. The forgotten notepad he held in his hand served as a glimmer of hope he might get a chance to fix what he once fucked up.

//

The usual, thank you

"Lady, I am sorry, I am showing you on a map, what else do you want from me?" Max said with his signature dead pan annoyed tone and wiggled his phone in front of a poor lady, who barely spoke English. Originally, he thought she was a fan asking for a photo, instead he got stuck in trying to explain the concept of left and then long straight walk to whichever place the tourist was looking for.

You watched him struggle impatiently as you waited by the door with two coffees in hand, amused as usual. Whenever he was frantic like this, you just could not help yourself.

The two finally parted ways, Max waved her goodbye and then rubbed his face. Annoyed and tired, he was like that the past few weeks.

"Tough day the office?" you joked and handed him his coffee.

"I wish. Give a photo-hungry fan over this anytime, please."

You grabbed his hand, an subconscious gesture at that point. "Come on, we still have some time before we need to leave for the plane. Let's enjoy this walk."

He kissed you, not bothering to turn his head around and search for people with their phones ready to photograph. Max stopped doing that a long ago. His "not giving a fuck" attitude was a turn on for you in any shape or form.

The two of you walked for a few moment before you had your first sip of the coffee. A small frown escaped your face upon the first sip. "Never liked the coffee here, it's so bitter."

He had a different opinion, as per usual. "Yeah, but I like the place. They keep their bullshit levels on low. The staff is pleasant."

Max was always about getting to the point straight. Made it a very interesting quality when you fought. But you would not have it any other way.

"Is that why you wanted us to take the longer route and come here today?"

He calculated his response. "Hm, not really. Apparently they might be closing soon. Slow business."

"Ah, shame. Great location," you replied, not exactly affected by that new information.

"See, knew you'd like it," he said with a suspicious joy in his tone.

"Why are you so interested in me liking that place?"

"Well. I was thinking of buying it if they really go under," his response came with a tone suggesting he had already made that decision.

This time, you couldn't hide your shock. "Max Verstappen, what the fuck?"

He just chuckled. "Oh you'll love it. We'll have our cute little place."

"Is it because of Leclerc's ice cream? Are you jealous?" you asked, still baffled. This man will probably never stop surprising you.

He stopped and looked at you. "Good thinking, we can get his ice cream here. That'll dram crowds. I'm happy you're on board," he said and gave you a small kiss on the cheek.

"Never said that," you tried to protest, but knew it was a lost battle.

"But you'll be. For me, please? I'll make sure you always get free coffee?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm, but you knew better than that.

So be it. You searched for a hint of doubt in his deep blue eyes, but only found determination and devotion. "Free bitter coffee, what a win!" you cheered sarcastically, but an honest smile formed on your lips.

"And a kiss with it," he bargained with a devious smile.

Was there ever any other choice than the magnificent man standing in front of you? The answer was clear to you. Where ever he went, you followed and vice versa.

"And a kiss with it."

[shakespearean-dream]

woaaahh first post!!

it has taken me so much longer than it should have to build up the courage to post on this website 😭 i am so traumatized from the tiktok art community it’s ridiculous. but i love these stupid guys too much not to share so yall get to feel my wrath ❤️

i love making these silly hc/figuring out sheets where i draw characters (n make fun of them at the same time) and that seems postable so here’s my take on gorrister and glynis!!! playing gorrister’s scenario in the IHNMAIMS game changed my brain chemistry and i had to expand on em a little bit. (ellen’s scenario also changed me fundamentally so if yall like this one ill do her next👁️👁️)

ok i’m just gonna post this and Not Think About It so i don’t freak out LOL thank u for reading if you did 🫶

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse

Word Count: 4869

A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!

Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 

“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.

You nodded. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.

“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”

“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 

Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.

“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 

“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.

“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.

“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “

That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.

***

The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 

“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.

“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.

“Great,” you mumbled.

“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.

“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.

A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I��� help you?”

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 

They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.

In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 

Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.

Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.

“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 

“I saw you inside,” she told them.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.

“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”

***

Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.

“I do,” he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 

“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.

“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.

You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”

 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 

You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 

“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “

“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 

You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 

“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.

The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 

You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.

“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 

The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 

‘Dammit.’

“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 

You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

You three obeyed.

“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”

“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 

The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.

“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”

“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”

You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.

“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”

“None taken.”

“But what about the shotguns?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.

Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.

You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.

Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 

You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 

While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.

“Need help?” you smirked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.

“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.

“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”

“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.

You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.

Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.

“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 

You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”

“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.

Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.

“Super,” the older brother muttered.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.

“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.

***

You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.

The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”

Sam nodded. You chortled.

“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”

“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.

“What about you?” 

Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 

“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 

He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.

He shot you a look.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”

“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”

“What, at pool?”

He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”

“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.

You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”

You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”

You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 

“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.

“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 

He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.

You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 

“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.

Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”

“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”

You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 

“Um, weird question,” you started. 

He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 

“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”

And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.

“Dean?”

“Hm.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

***

Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.

“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 

“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”

About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 

The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  

“Let them through.”

“Thanks.” 

You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.

“You okay?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” sighed Sam.

“What the hell happened?” 

“Hook Man.”

You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.

“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.

“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”

Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 

“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.

Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”

“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook—”

The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”

“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 

He said nothing.

“Exactly,” you giggled.

***

Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.

“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”

“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.

“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”

Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”

Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 

Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.

“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.

“Dean and I will take the church, then.”

“We will?” the older brother asked.

“Yup.”

You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.

You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 

“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 

Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.

“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.

You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 

“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.

Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”

You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”

“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”

“I have,” you said. “My mom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “

“Catholic?”

“Oh, very.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”

Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.

“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 

Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”

His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.

“So did I,” the older brother answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”

“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.

“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.

“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  

You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.

You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 

You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 

“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”

“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen. You and those two boys—”

Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 

“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 

You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

[alistreinn]

Anyone care for some dogday brainrot!!?? 🐶🌞🌻🧡💛

This is my version of dogday!! I've been super obsessed with poppy playtime ch 3 and the smiling critters so much. The chapter on its own was so much more creepy and lore based then the others and it absolutely captivated me. The smiling critters freaked me out a lil tbh but after a bit I got also super obsessed. I absolutely LOVE dogday since the first time I saw him and what happened to him in the game was so awful he deserved so much better, the poor pup (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Anyways drawing these guys has been so much fun and the redesigns I've been seeing are super amazing so I've wanted to do mine and now that I have I literally want to draw them all the damn time. The one on the left is a more streamlined design cuz I honestly forgot his eye spot on the other one lol. But I wanted his face to resemble sun rays in a way and I am really satisfied with the way he looks in my style.

I have catnaps ref done already and posted em on my Instagram but I'll make a lil drawing page for them as well cause it was so fun to do for this guy. I hope y'all like this just as much as I did making them!!

(The ref on the righthas my insta watermark btw)

Likes and Reblogs are very cherished if you enjoy or save em <3

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite (and some of my personal doodles)

Alrighty, so I finally found the motivation to draw up the entire I.M.P crew and finalize their designs! Introducing my version of the new and improved Immediate Murder Professionals!

I'm so freaking lazy so I didn't add shading or anything extra like that because ughhh. I also decided on some defining traits for imps depending on their ring, but only for the gang and the rings we've seen in the show so far

Wrath imps are larger, stronger, and spikier than other imps. Lust imps have varied bodies, but all have heart shaped barbs on their tails and leathery wings on their lower back. Greed imps are more slender than other imps and often wear jewelry. Gluttony imps are small and fast, high metabolisms so they can gorge. Sloth imps are easy to identify because they usually are just lying there doing fuck all and lack barbs on their tails.

Also, the scarring for imps is the same. White markings indicate scars. In the show I feel like it’s hard to tell what’s a scar (like Blitzo’s facial marks) and what’s a birth mark (like Moxxie’s freckles) so for my own sake, white marks are scars, black marks are birth marks or tattoos, end of story. Millie got her scars from fighting in the wrath ring, Blitzo got his scars from the explosion, and Moxxie’s freckle-like scars are cigarette burns. Should also note that imps are immune to hellfire, but not normal fire because... uhhh idk honestly it just seems more logical. 

~ Helluva cutoff starts here ~

I kinda wanna show off my own imp designs for my little demon thing because helluva boss posts get traction and I just wanted someone to see them, so if you only came here for helluva content, feel free to stop reading lol 

Okay, so I wanted the imps to all look like the same species but at the same time not at all. Essentially the imps in my series are based more on folklore surrounding them. In christian folklore imps are straight up evil, but I want all of my imps to just be little guys. Look at em, they’re just little guys. Imps were sometimes thought of as the familiars of witches, taking forms of different animals, so I wanted some of the imps to look animalistic, but it’s their behavior that reflects it more (which is hard to show in a still doodle). Also the imps are just color coded here so I know which is which, imps aren’t actually these specific colors in my world. 

Greed imps tend to bind themselves to objects that they particularly adore – in some tellings imps were bound to objects like crystals and could be summoned by their masters. So Greed imps often have a specific item bound to them that they guard with their lives.

Sloth imps are the most harmless when they’re tired, it’s when they’re awake that they become the full on imps of folklore. They’re often paid in sugar cubes and used as servants in the sloth ring. 

Gluttony imps are alluding to the fae origin of imps in Germanic folklore, having wings and being generally bug like and little shits. I wanted them to look like pixies almost.

Envy imps are the more attention seeking type who play tricks on humans to garner a reaction. Tricks such as attempting to drown people and such – harmless fun, you know? They’re actually a little based on Kappa I'll admit. 

Lust imps have the habit of snatching babies, as in a lot of demons associated with lust (such as Lilith) tend to be obsessed with babies/pregnancy. The lust imps are nearly infertile, so they love taking babies to raise, then discard them once they’re annoyed.

Pride imps are based on the Lincoln imp (in short an Imp threw a rock at an angel and got turned into stone). They’re fluffy and covered in shiny fur since they live in the frozen layer of hell. Their horns are the largest of all imps, and their biggest source of pride – like if they break their horns, they’d rather die than live with the shame because their horns don’t grow back. 

Wrath imps are based on the old art of imps you can find – bald little creatures with horns and tails. They’re the more feral animalistic imps, often acting on pure instinct and lacking much social structure. They do tend to exercise in their own way, as strength is their greatest feature. 

Anywho if you read all that omg thank you for feeding my ego teehee. But for real, as much as I hate digital, I did enjoy drawing out the imp gang, I might (keyword MIGHT) draw out some rewritten scenes in comic format the most daunting part is actually doing it lmao.

I probably won't shove my own stuff into posts too often, I mostly did it because I wanted to compare my ideas for Imps to Viv's because I think mine are better sorry not sorry lmao. I like to actually research what I'm doing and incorporate it into my art and creations because i think of it like little easter eggs for people who like the things I like. Viv's version of Hell is my least favorite mostly because everything she does feels like bible fanfiction written by a middle schooler who thinks shouting penis in class is the peak of comedy.

[moxfirefly]

Hi!! I really enjoy your writing style and love reading your stuff. I know you're still on soft open so I wanted to ask if you have recommendations for others that do fic requests? Thanks!! :)

Hello hello!

Some of my favorites are on here! As for taking request I do understand my bestie @ray-jaykub is taking request and she also has commissions open for drawings. Hell of a writer, hell of an artist. Whole package this one.

As for some other phenomenal writers that I cherish greatly that have requests open are @raphaelsrightarm Em is fucking aces, writes incredible. Absolutely takes your request and levels it up.

@oozedninjas has been killing it and writes for many versions of the guys. You want some good fucking food, Ooz is a Michelin star chef.

@turtle-babe83 may still be on break from taking request but go through her stuff it’s great! You’ll find just about anything that will be to your fancy!

@teenage-mutant-ninja-freak has been a fave of mine since I joined the fandom and their mafia!au is insanely great.

@memes-in-a-half-shell doesn’t exactly take request but you can run some fun ideas by her and she really is insightful in her own takes. She does have on going series and *chef kiss* she’s absolutely perfect, my Donnie connoisseur if you will 🖤

[shoezuki]

Dya have any more headcanons for sampard?

Maybe ideas on how they fell for one another. Would you see it as an X fell first but Y fell harder or a flirting for fun but realising you've caught feelings?

Or have ya got an entirely different view on it! :D Oooooo. Do you perhaps have a timeline for how they traverse the "enemies" to friends to lovers stages.

Can you tell I love all your ideas and headcanons T-T

thankyou anon i am ghglg. im in love w u now. yes i have Many Ideas bout these two bastards like i have so many thoughts you cannot believe. like i have a post drafted where i write hcs when im bored and headin to class lkshglhg. heres some hcs

sampo falls in love first. very, very early in when he is new to the planet and is just drawing the attention of the silvermanes. It's not exactly some 'love at first sight' thing its more like the first time gep almost catches him sampo thinks 'oh he's cute' and a few times after that he's like 'wait im enjoying this. a lot.' and its downhill from there

whether sampo Realizes it is another thing tho. i can see him just enjoying the attention and thrill of evading the silvermanes and not realizing his disappointment when gepard isnt there is cuz hes infatuated w gepard.

but he Would realize it. at some point itd hit him like. why he enjoys the chase so much n lets himself Almost get caught. why hes memorized gep's schedule and where he patrols the most. and it hits him n hes like 'oh fuck. what the fuck. holy shit.... well anyways.'

(probably freaks out to seele over drinks but he's too incomprehensible through his tears n she has no clue what hes whining about)

Sampo flirts and teases gepard unabashedly, kisses grenades before throwing them into gep's arms, saying 'woah youre so strong geppie' while gep punches the wall behind him narrowly missing his face, leaves notes with lipstick marks on em at crime scenes, all that stuff.

but for sampo. it isnt supposed to actually Go anywhere. he knows he likes gepard more than he should and its kinda just to scratch that itch in his heart yknow.

sampo very much thinks that. gepard is the captain of the silvermanes, a wellknown and noble person in belobog, and sampo's a slimy secretive conman that just enjoys pushing the captains buttons. theres no hope for anything more so he might as well enjoy flustering the captain right?

gepard on the other hand. doesnt allow himself to really think of sampo as anything else but a criminal. it takes a long Long time for him to realize he even feels anythin for him

gepard does look forward to trying to bust sampo, though, in a sort of frustrated way. sometimes the front lines or patrols are so monotonous and sampo's tendency to appear whenever gep's bored out of his mind is impressive

he is insistant on arresting sampo and 'bringing him to justice' to an obsessive degree, though. he's not even typically assigned to investigating criminal cases but he has basically inserted himself into bein the lead investigator of any sampo related case now

(intelligence officers and detectives and other silvermane's are so used to it now. they could be investigating a house fire or a break in, find a note with lipstick marks on it and curly writing, and they all just sigh and call gepard.)

sometimes other worry that his insistence on arresting sampo and how dedicated to it is concerning. they ask why he hates sampo so much n he just says 'hes the most prolific criminal in belobog and needs to be apprehended'

(he cant say he hates him, though. for some reason. he cant figure out why he thinks about sampo so much. he just figures its to arrest him)

gep finds himself starting to relax when sampo sends him on wild goose chases n they both leave other guards in the dust. its probably not intentional, how sampo always seems to draw him away to somewhere quiet and secluded when his head is killing him or he's stressed or exhausted.

(its intentional)

sampo falls first, but gepard is absolutely the one who initiates.

i imagine it'd take... something for gepard to reconsider sampo and let himself think about sampo outside of his criminal record

during a chase out in the snow plains, just sampo laughing and taunting him as gep tries to hunt him down, they get bombarded by fragmentum monsters

sampo holds his own; he fights with a sort of viciousness gep has never seen from him. his bombs arent just smoke, but powerful explosives that shatter fragmentum. he's insanely fast and doesnt even break a sweat. but as soon as theyre all dead he pretends he's exhausted and that gep needs to carry him back to the city before giggling and vanishing.

gepard realizes that this whole time sampo has been holding back. he realizes that sampo could easily cut through the silvermanes, use his lethal bombs or easily outpace gepard and outrun him.

he starts thinking about other things sampo does; how natasha mentions he delivers medicine to him, how lynx sometimes talks about finding supplies and food in hidden ruins and obvious places around her camp, or the notes sampo leaves and how they sometimes give hidden hints about other criminal operations the silvermanes have been tryin to investigate.

he doesnt know what to make of it, what sampo wants or why he's doing this. the next time sampo sends him running through abandoned streets in belobog he slows down, realizes that sampo also slows to his pace so gepard keeps chasing him.

gepard asks point blank at some point, what in the hell sampo wants from him, why he's doing this. sampo doesnt know how to answer. just shrugs and says hes just trying to have some fun.

from then on gepard and sampo's 'chases' tend to... dissolve. sometimes gepard just sits down and takes a moment to forget about being the captain, to relax. Sampo acts like a skittish, stray cat who's ready to bolt until he eventually relaxes as sits by gepard too.

gepard collects all sampo's notes, all the fragments of his bombs with the hearts painted on metal shells, and keeps them as 'evidence' in his desk.

sampo pushes his luck constantly; as soon as gepard relaxes or gives him any room to get closer, he takes and takes as much as he can get.

gepard catches sampo, entirely on accident, when he's off duty. climbing out of a window or something. and sampo freezes but gepard just says 'hey i'm not working now, i can't arrest you.'

(they both know it's a lie. being out of uniform never stopped gepard before.)

sampo starts just appearing more and more around gepard when he's off duty, showing up walking alongside him like he's been there the whole time, or just 'passing by' when gep is in the florist's shop.

gepard leaves his window open. sampo takes the invitation and crawls in and strange hours when gepard cant sleep. he just sits on the couch or a chair or stands there like he is a foreign intruder. gepard just nods and makes him some tea.

when it would hit gepard, that he's in love with sampo and has been for a while, he'd just blurt it out. 'huh. i think ive fallen in love with you'. and sampo would erupt into flames and kiss him so hard his lips bruise