#i hate these fuckers...

[lovelycrimsonredsnow]

RANKING VISUAL NOVEL YANDERES [revamped vers~!] now that i actually played the games lol-

•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚──────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚ *•¨•.¸¸☆¸¸.•¨*• ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ｡･:*˚:✧•¨•.¸¸ﾟ･☆¸¸.•¨*•

jack ☁︎ [swwsdj] : 6/10, honestly he isn't that bad ...i dont want him to choke me though i see you laney

doe ♡ [john doe] : 9/10, i wanna step on him and crush his skull like a twig and also bury my face in his tits <3

Seth ‹𝟹 [dies irae] : 7/10, he's a bastard [hes so bbg i love him NVJGBJGHSKHJK]

Ren ✬ [fdwy] : 4/10, pervert incel femboi

Alan *ੈ✩‧₊˚ [mdhm] : 8/10, i wanna kiss his scars and tell him he's my princess :3

Sol ❣ [tkitb] : 8/10, COME AND FUCK ME EMO BOY- not really but i do wanna smooch him 😘

casper ✣ [adwd] [i know he isn't really yandere buuuut 👀] : 100/10, POOKIE 😍

Mychael ꕥ [mushroom oasis] : 10/10, AHHHHHSKIFJHZRGHSBIUYS LEMME CUDDLE YOU

jacob ❀ [lurking for love] : 4/10, average height...average personality...average cock-

Damon ☘ [broken colors] : 9/10, HE'S SO BBG CODED AHHHHHHH

peter ۵ [your boyfriend] : 2/10, get yo rat lookin' ahh out of my sight 😒

tate・[frostbite] : -300/10, andrew tate-

koolie ❤ [tentador leeches] : 3/10, ... i feel bad for him a little bit but also FuCk YoU

Bo ✮⋆˙ [datcha bo]: 1/10, UHM....wtf was that one 'feed me' screen...😨

ellias 𝄞 [tgogm] [again...isnt really a yandere but i like him] : 8/10, LEMME MARRY HIM BITCH-

Monika ᯤ [ddlc] : 8/10, self aware ai >>> irl ppl

Yuri ღ [ddlc] : 5/10, WTF YOU MEAN 'it's soaked with fluids...' 😰😰😰😰

404 ✪ [monster x mediator] : 7/10, 💊👈😀 TAKE IT IT'S FOR YOUR BIPOLAR BITCH-

[antomatkoen]

🩸🩸🩸

freak behaviour 🤦‍♂️

[nixiecat]

the "shave your pits" guy is back in my notes and this time is being transphobic to my followers so it's pit posting time again!!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The dog days are over.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[ananxiousgenz]

my mental state rn <3

[piss-stained-jorts]

"i wanna see something other than the same edgy horror stuff when a beloved character becomes public domai-"

FUCKING MAKE IT, THEN.

the literal only difference between you and those horror directors who took mickey and winnie the pooh and made them into the horror you hate so much is that they made something and you didn't.

MAKE the romcom. MAKE the deep and existential meta horror you want to see. MAKE something cozy and child friendly. MAKE MAKE MAKE MAKE MAKE

don't just sit there and bemoan the things you don't want to see! MAKE THE THINGS YOU DO WANT TO SEE. BECAUSE NOW WE CAN MAKE ANYTHING. THAT'S THE FUCKING POINT!

YOU DON'T NEED PERMISSION. YOU DON'T NEED TO BE SOMETHING FIRST. JUST MAKE WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE.

YOU CAN'T STOP AN ARTIST FROM TAKING A CHILD FRIENDLY THING AND MAKING IT INTO HORROR. THE LITERAL ONLY PERSON YOU CAN STOP, AND ARE STOPPING, IS YOURSELF.

DON'T FUCKING WAIT FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO MAKE IT FOR YOU. PICK UP A DAMNED PENCIL/KEYBOARD/WHATEVER AND MAKE THAT THING YOU WANT TO SEE, GOD DAMMIT!!!

[negasonik-teenage-warhead]

little rats

[zigzthingz]

I can now die happy

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Woven bonds

You've been sold to an orc by your father, and have now been shutting yourself in, laying in bed and hardly eating, pert'ah wants that to change. warnings/tags- bedrotting hints, arranged marrige but pertah loves you so thats nice, i love my ocs i wanna eat them, pert'ah speaks with semi-broken english

word count- 698

The wooden door of Pert'ah's hut creaked shut as he stepped inside, his heavy boots brushing against the woven rugs scattered on the floor. The interior of the hut was small but tidy, with simple furniture and shelves adorned with the intricate tapestries and sculptures he had crafted over the years. The air smelled of pine and earth, a scent that was both comforting and foreign.

You, however, lay motionless on the straw bed, back turned to him. For days, you had barely moved from that spot. You refused to eat the meals he prepared, refused to speak, refused to even acknowledge him. It was your silent protest—your way of fighting back against this life you had never asked for.

Pert'ah stood near the door for a moment, watching you in the dim light. His brow furrowed in concern as he set down the woven basket he had carried from the nearby river. His broad shoulders tensed as he approached the bed quietly, careful not to startle you.

"[Name]," he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly but holding an unfamiliar tenderness. "You no eat again… you need food."

You didn't respond. Your mind buzzed with anger and sorrow. This was your life now—sold to an orc by your own father to secure peace with a clan your people had always looked down upon. You had been reduced to nothing more than a bargaining chip, and it hurt. The idea of even speaking to Pert'ah felt like giving in.

Pert'ah sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a heaviness that made the frame creak. He didn’t touch you, knowing you wouldn’t welcome it. Instead, he glanced at the clay plate he had left beside the bed the day before—untouched, the stew inside long since cold.

"I make for you. I try make what you like," he murmured, almost to himself. "Not same as your kind, I know… but I try."

He shifted, staring down at his hands—rough, scarred, and calloused from years of weaving and shaping clay. He didn’t understand human customs, not completely. But he understood enough to know you were suffering, and that made him suffer too.

"I know you no want this. I no want hurt you," Pert'ah continued. "I not like other orcs. I make art… make beauty, no war. But I… I want you be happy, even here. I want to try… if you try too."

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting the well of emotions building inside you. His words, though broken, were sincere. He was nothing like the cruel, brutish orcs you had been raised to fear. He was gentle, soft-spoken. But it didn’t change the fact that you were trapped.

"Please, [Name]," he said after a moment, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper. "I know I am… orc. I know you see me and think less. But I see you, and I see… everything. You are strong, kind… beautiful. You no have to love me. I no ask that. But… please, live. I no want you suffer. I will give you what I can, always."

His words hit you harder than you expected, the vulnerability in them gnawing at your resolve. The anger in your chest burned, but so did the guilt. Pert'ah wasn’t the enemy. He had never asked for this either.

Still, you said nothing. You weren’t ready. Not yet.

Pert'ah stood after a few minutes of silence, his movements slow and deliberate. "I leave food here, if you want later," he said, placing a fresh bowl of soup on the small table beside the bed. "I go work now. But… I always here. If you need."

With that, he turned and walked out of the hut, leaving the door open just a crack to let in the cool breeze.

You lay there for what felt like hours, staring at the simple wooden ceiling, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Slowly, your gaze drifted to the bowl of soup beside the bed. It smelled of unfamiliar herbs, but something about it was comforting. Hesitantly, you sat up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders.

at least you knew you weren't alone

[cheesomancer]

What are you waiting for? I'm totally ready, I tell you.

Full art (with close up!) is here!

[noisyghost]

a little follow up to my previous post because i was thinking about how his werewolf form would also change over time. also he gets a dog and that's fun :)

[saetoshi]

itoshi sae can’t sleep well when you’re gone. he’s too used to the feeling of your warmth next to his on the bed.

he spends his nights lying awake, a frown on his face as he rolls around to your side of the bed. he gets a wink of sleep before his alarm goes off. his brows furrow as he contemplates throwing his phone against the wall. (he never does—he hates the thought of not seeing your face pop up on his lock screen more than going another day without sleep).

his phone buzzes in his hand, an incoherent grumble leaving his lips before he rolls out of bed. he glances at the screen, disappointment bubbling in his chest when he sees the text isn’t yours.

he goes through the motions when you’re gone—his eyes lingering a little too long on your bottle of soap on the shower’s shelves. his hand subconsciously reaches for your shampoo, his heart swelling when the fresh, fruity scent fills his senses. he doesn’t linger for too long when brushing his teeth, his eyes actively avoiding your missing toothbrush.

sae can’t stand going to practice when you’re away. somehow, he gets more irritable than usual. he gets pickier with the passes he gives—even pickier with the way his teammates receive the passes. it’s bad enough that his coach sends him home on days like these. (it’s even worse how his manager lectures him on the way home).

he expects emptiness when he opens the door to his apartment, a sour look on his face. he kicks the door closed, a loud slam echoing through the place, his eyes shut closed as he tries to calm down.

“what’d the door ever do to you?”

his eyes snap open, his head whipping to the side. his annoyance melts away almost immediately—the corners of his eyes softening the longer he looks at that grin on your lips.

“nothing,” he breathes out, kicking off his shoes in a hurry before closing the distance between the two of you.

a smile worms its way onto his lips when you stretch your arms out. he walks into your embrace, hugging you tight until you’re patting his back and telling him you can’t breathe.

he rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes drifting to your suitcase next to the couch. “when did you get back?” he asks, his voice soft.

“not too long ago,” you reply, gently rubbing circles on his upper back. you chuckle when he pecks the crook of your neck, giving him a small squeeze. he huffs, his arms tightening around you before he kisses your clavicle.

“i missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“i know,” you say, patting his back in a soothing manner, “i missed you too, sae.”

“don’t leave for long ever again,” he adds, pulling back just enough to look at you. he frowns when you laugh, bringing his hand up to flick your forehead.

“i was only gone for a week,” you grumble, rubbing the spot he flicked. your eyes scan his face, your brows furrowing slightly. “you’ve been gone for longer.”

“it’s different,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears flushing. “because we’re on different timezones.” (it makes ignoring the distance easier, he wants to add. but he won’t—not today, anyway).

you sigh, faintly shaking your head. he tsks, pouting as he rests his forehead against yours, “it’s not the same when we’re in the same time, but in different places.”

his hands gently pry yours from his back, the corners of his lips quirking up into the hint of a smile when he laces his fingers through yours. his eyes find yours, a soft hum leaving his lips. “don’t leave for too long ever again,” he repeats, his words hushed.

“it was just a week,” you murmur, your eyes softening in amusement.

“a week too long,” he quips, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you open your mouth to reply before he cuts you off, “don’t ever leave for too long without me ever again.”

you puff your cheeks, softly sighing before you nod. “okay,” you say, shaking your head when he smiles. he can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth when you call him a spoiled brat under your breath.

“good,” he says, giving you a quick peck.

“good,” you echo, leaning up to give him a peck in return.

a soft hum leaves your lips, your eyes warm as you gently tug him into the bedroom. (neither of you choose to say something about the way he grabs your suitcase as you drag him away).

he doesn’t complain when you shove him down on the bed, placing his head on your pillow before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“i’m too old to be tucked into bed,” he says, his eyes following your movements as you pull up the comforter to his chin. (still, he can’t help the grin growing on his lips when you smack his knee).

“just go to sleep,” you say, hoisting your suitcase on his side of the bed to unpack. your eyes flicker to his, a teasing smile on your lips, “you look uglier with those bags under your eyes.”

“i hate you.”

“whatever you say,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“i missed you,” he yawns, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“i missed you too,” you reply, your voice full of affection when you glance at him.

“you better be here when i wake up,” he murmurs, yawning once more as his eyes close. there’s a smile on his lips as he drifts off to sleep, his heart lighter than it’s been for the week.

“i wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

[boimann]

Can we get a close up of the heavymedic drawing from the meet the tf2 artist post? Pretty please?

Sure but only because you asked so nicely

[sargent-space-dork]

I retired on my skylanders tumblr so now I'm posting here so I don't have to deal with creep gooners, anyway totally unrelated here's some transformers AU work!! UH this is all for a personal AU, it's not like, based on one continuity its based on all the ones i like, and I get to choose the lore so. I also shouldn't have to say this but better safe than sorry, don't use my designs for your own stuff.

im gonna be super silly and name my tf au the same thing as my other nontf au so no one can tell them apart :)

[mewniemoon]

A 'what if Nari had Wings" doodle that went way out of hand. He's angry he splattered bbq all over himself :( So sad.

heres the sketch if u wanna peep at it:

[bikefuckersoftheworldunite]

Valentino Rossi drinks champagne as he celebrates the victory of Yamaha team in the MotoGP class of the World Motorcycle Grand Prix at a Tokyo hotel, 2005