#sometimes i just wanna draw a monster... hot monster... To Me....

[cheyisagirlkisser]

.・College Ellie Headcannons゜・

Note: This is more loser Ellie-centric, I wanna maybe do a part two with just reader and her. Some sexual content and mentions of getting zooted below so 18+ warning!

•Art major, but she’s not the typical hot artsy lesbian you dream of her to be. More like rolls a fat blunt and sketches in her journal, it’ll either turn out to be a masterpiece or look like a crackhead had a go with her paper.

•Speaking of art major, when she’s horny and frustrated because she refuses to hook-up…she draws the lewdest art known to woman-kind. Those are her real masterpieces, but she can’t exactly turn them in for credit in her art class, can she? Fuck, the things that woman can make, though. Lowkey uses her exes naked bodies as inspiration though, maybe kind of weird but who’s gonna stop her?

•Doesn’t eat the food on campus half the time. She is embarrassingly addicted to Tai Pei containers and the occasional microwavable egg-roll. “That shit’s nasty, Ellie! Goddamn, just eat the Tacos 4 Life we have on campus.” Her friends will all tell her, but no. It’s like a guilty pleasure. Maybe it’s cause she grew up lower class and is used to TV dinners, has a special trauma bond to food that should be banned and probably is outside of America.

•Wardrobe consists of band tees, honorable mentions to Gorillaz and Falling in Reverse.

•Is actually an insanely talented writer. After reading her journals I feel like nobody talks about how emotional her entries are and she keeps a journal of her own in college for sure, not only for sketching and organizing art but also to write all her feelings out.

“Fuck me, this is my last year being gay.” -After her and Cat’s break-up, probably.

•Hates coffee. Definitely game-cannon, but this is important to the college setting. It’s the classic Monster or nothing, and she will absolutely judge you for drinking coffee. She calls it “the devil’s dirt.” So dramatic.

•Used to watch bad Hallmark movies because of Dina, now watches them alone because she misses Dina. There’s nothing like crying your eyes out to Christmas Under Wraps!

•Has a collection of rubber ducks on her shelf. Doesn’t use her very small space for normal things like her wallet or books, no. It’s rubber fucking ducks.

•Also has a slipper collection in her tiny closet, from Pikachu all the way to dinosaur feet.

•Has the “two-seater” t-shirt (iykyk) but refuses to wear it in public because she’s a pussy

•Favorite fruit is grapes. I just know my girl loves grapes when she can get her hands on them steer clear bc she will NOT share. Favorite candy is gummy worms!

•Actually wears rain boots when it’s wet outside or snowing

•Likes wired earbuds over airpods, listens to Pearl Jam when she misses living with Joel

•Is oddly good at making those little paper stars and has a huge grocery bag of then in all different patterns and colors

•When she starts dating you she shows you her dinosaur cookie-cutter collection because you're really good at baking. (Also bc she wants to see you in a frilly cute apron!)

•Is a slut for hugs. Kisses are cool, sex is great but agghhh Ellie just loves wrapping her arms around you and sometimes when you two are in her dorm she'll just hug you for what feels like hours on end, she calls it her 'weekly therapy.'

•Loves high sex because when she's sober she hates feeling like she's awkward or all up in her head. She also has a tendency to invite you over for sex after smoking.

•Has a septum piercing. Maybe this one is self-indulgent because I would go ballistic over seeing actual Ellie with one, but I say that college Ellie got hers pierced at 16 and didn't cry over the pain but wanted to literally jump off of a bridge the entire healing process it was so bad.

•Sometimes when you kiss her, her septum will slide over and look uneven and she feels fucking NIGERIA FALLS in her boxers when you fix it for her. Also for those of you who are sluts for glasses, you can fix her glasses too and it'll make her just as weak.

[cleaverqueer]

DIY How-To; Aluminum Can Spikes

Preface; This will work with any kind of can as long as its metal. (soda, monster, ect) You can make them in colors depending on which side you trace your stencil on but im gonna teach you how to make them silver

And i cannot stress this enough,

BE CAREFUL WITH THE RAW CUT EDGES OF THE CANS, THEY ARE SHARP ENOUGH TO CUT BADLY

Material needed;

Empty clean aluminum can(s)

Sharp scissors (maybe a stitch ripper for attaching them but scissors work too)

A sharpie or permanent marker

Superglue if you want them perfect

An abundance of patience and caution

1 Gather your aluminum

First step is to turn those cans into flat sheets of metal. Start by making a small cut near the rounded edge of the top or bottom, about this distance

Then cut around the top to connect back where you started and take the ends off.

Next you cut a line straight down the side to interrupt the loop of aluminum.

What I do next is kinda just flatten it the best I can? Press it against a flat surface, make tiny bends against the curve, just to make it easier to work with, always being careful of the sharp edges

2 Make a stencil

So the general shape youre gonna wanna make it is like this

The big point will be the tip of your spike, and the little nubby ones will hold it on

imo it helps to have an extra can to experiment with what works best for what youre going for, but once you figure it out, have one flat cut out piece to trace for the rest, to make sure they all come out the same!

3 Trace a bunch and cut them out!

Sounds easier than it is. if you work with it, you can get more spikes sometimes by drawing them close together, but then theyre harder to cut out. Again, be careful of edges. If you want silver, trace on the printed on sign so you dont get sharpie on your spike (or dont, mistakes are punk)

4 Roll them up

This takes a little practice, but what you wanna do is roll up the wider end of the triangle, one edge over the other, into a pyramid, forming a spike with the point of the big triangle at the end. (this ones harder to draw)

Sometimes theyll stay curled tight on their own, sometimes they need a little help (superglue) i havent figured out how to make em curl perfect every time yet. You can also fill them with hot glue to make them sturdier ( BEING CAREFUL OF THE SPIKES WHEN THEY HEAT UP FROM THE GLUE) But the good news is your spikes are done!

4 Affixing them to your shit

Once you figure out where you want them, hold the bottom triangles on the first spike up to the spot it goes like you mean to put it in, mark where they touch the fabric, and then take your scissors or stitch ripper and cut four little tears that DO NOT connect at those points.

It should look like this, with the center dot representing where the spike point is centered!

You should also give each spike enough room that the tears dont run into each other. I usually do them one at a time but i dont think it matters.

After the tears are cut, you carefully insert the bottom triangles into the rips

flip it over, and fold the triangles in over themselves like a staple

Repeat until youve added on all your spikes and your piece looks sick as fuck

5 Bonus; patching over the studs

So when you do this, like a staple, theres the little pointy bits sticking in, and if its a wearble item, it'll prick your skin. If youre autistic like me thats a big drawback, but you can remedy this by sewing a patch of a thicker material (i use denim) over the place where these spikes are holding on.

[lucillexe]

The snow monster episode!!! (yeah I tried to draw the monster but it mostly looked like a Temu-version of huggy wuggy so nah I'm not posting that)

So EVERYTHING is fine in Lazytown, until Robbie decide to desguise as the snow monster to mess with the kids!

Goldie and Rini, totally aware that this is Uncle Robbie, don't mind and still keep going on their day.. (and since there is way less peoples thank to Robbie, Rini accept to go out to do a snowball fight with Goldie!!!)(Goldie wear a hat she stole from Íþróttaálfurinn once. Rini is wearing a hat that Goldie found a way to steal from Sportacus earlier that day)

The thing is, when Robbie fall throught the ice, in the lake.. Both Sportacus AND Goldie's crystal are alerted! Goldie try to help her uncle.. And fall with him in the frozen lake.

It's @rinirinisbestu Rini who mostly save the day! They find a way to drag Goldie out (with this weird "Rini can and WILL do anything as long as it's for the family" power theiy got) and attach Sportacus' hook aroung Robbie! (THANK YOU, RINI♡)

Buuuut, well.. Robbie is Soaked and cold and scared (near-drowing + hypothermia experience), Goldie is Soaked and frozen (she got less layers then Robbie to cover herself) and scared (I mean she's still 12), aaaaand Rini is scared (for them) and panicked and low on social batterie. Rini just wanna run back home, but Goldie and Robbie need them right now

At the end everyone cuddle in the armchair trying to warm up a bit..

So yeah the end is a bit sad (COMMON THAT EPISODE MADE ME SO SAD AT THE END POOR ROBBIE) because yes, sometimes, having two kids around CAN make the end a bit more sad.

The kids and Sportacus get a bit guilty, bring them hot-cocoa, stay mostly quiet for the rest of the day, visit them too.

Gooood night everyone!!! 💛💚💜

[jollmaster]

i was wondering of we could get some informations about Vepar(no need for a drawing about them Just sum facts! Considering your busy with with work/study/personal then i dont wanna push anything so take your time to write❤️)

hiii thank you! 🖤 and thanks that you don't push me

so, Vepar, different things

• monumental-sized female water deity: when she emerges from the water, she towers above the masts

• contrary to all stories about beautiful mermaids, she's quite frightening in appearance (covered with scales, has claws and long teeth, hair is filled with seaweed)

• at different times she was worshipped as Oannes, Olokun and Sea King

• Vepar patronizes sailors and ships, most of all she loves warships and merchants

• of course, this doesn't cancel the fact that she can both guide on a safe current or pick up in storm, and personally destroy an armada of ships

• hot-tempered and wild, and seriously, you don't want to piss her off

• in addition to storms controls rot and corpse worms; sometimes shipwrecks and corpses of sailors get tangled in her hair after a storm, and worms have a feast

• mother of numerous offspring, both sea monsters and mermaids, one such mermaid is Seviathan's wife

• Vepar doesn't care enough about offspring, but she never pesters offspring and their families and generously patronizes them in times of need

• she's Leviathan's daughter, and if the daughter is like that, don't even try to imagine fully what Leviathan is like

[asmoshoebox]

you know i love those dash simulator posts but it would be silly to make one for bvm haha

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🤖 hellzbelz reblogged blasphem-baby-one-more-time

💿 gerard-streets-thighs Follow

cashier at hot topic yesterday said he liked my shoelaces but he seemed really genuine and i was wearing my boots with the gay laces so i just fistbumped him and walked away. do i deserve to be drawn and quartered over this minor social faux pas yes or no

#prev LMFAO #keep doing it

423 notes

🌈 becks-lox-rebagels

the only thing worse than applying for jobs is interviewing for jobs what the fuck was that phone call ??????? i swear the guy (?) sounded like they were literally dying. prolly just a smoker though 💀 i hope this gig works out man i dont feel great about it

#the good news is my bubbe is coming to see us next week :) #becks personal log

1 note

🤖 hellzbelz reblogged

🚬 maiale-e-fagioli

WHY THE FUCK IS GAS SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE IM GOING TO EXPLODE EVERYONE ON THIS DAMN PLANET

🚬 maiale-e-fagioli

they don't know this post is about the hearse running out of gas on the turnpike last week. with. you know. things. inside of it

#wtf misnis

327 notes

🎸 blasphem-baby-one-more-time reblogged

🤖 hellzbelz

dude qhat if there was a way to make like. so so you knwo how money s madeup right .well wht if it was worse

🤖 hellzbelz

like if isnteadof it being materials we assign arbitrsry value ot based on manufactres scarcity wht if it was digital adn the value was based onlike uniqhe digital signaturess and algorthims qnd all the value came fromn specualotye invensitmetn instea d of anything REMTOELY real lmfaooooooo

doctorsexy-deactivated20210504

🌐 worldheritageposts Follow

Date of Origin: March 3, 2009

#who keeps bringing this back lmao cryptocurrency is already dead

93,672 notes

🕸 inthefogofmyowndarkinnermind reblogged

👻 beetlejuicebeetlejuicebeejeezus Follow

girl help there's a cosplayer on the bus rn in FULL monster mode it's SO FUCKING COOL and also HOT

👻 beetlejuicebeetlejuicebeejeezus

they did like an eldritch double face thing and the makeup is impeccable, it looks so real that i just. i just wanna lick it. "i saw you from across the bus and think you're super intimidating, can i bite you?" but genuinely !!!!!!!!! also they're like suuuper gnc which makes it one morbillion times sexier. god. definitely drawing them when i get home

#woagh that sounds rad as hell. and soooo valid op #like. i just want to eat a demon out and die with its talons inside me #and frankly i dont think thats too much to ask

315 notes

🔥 vintagefaggotry reblogged starry-cocked-adonis

wetnwilde-secondedition

"oh, i don't think you're ready yet," he says, pressing a broad, calloused finger against your dripping cunt. "i wouldn't want to hurt you, after all.....

Keep reading

🍷 starry-cocked-adonis Follow

new blog same fat wet manhole! they will never kill me in a way that matters!

#asmo originals archive #i miss my old url smh

667 notes

💀 damiens-demon-lair reblogged

🕸 inthefogofmyowndarkinnermind

rly loved the dusk over campus tonight 🦇

#omg slay #gothcore #goth #aesthetic #alt aesthetic

25 notes

🤖 hellzbelz reblogged

🎸 blasphem-baby-one-more-time

bee butts. you agree. reblog.

1,634 notes

🔥 vintagefaggotry reblogged

🚬 maiale-e-fagioli

#bestie why are you polling tumbler about this #personally id keep it #makes a great tactile stim

2 notes

💀 damiens-demon-lair

might change my name again. i like damien but it just doesnt feel like me anymore idk idk

#i dont understanddd it just feels Wrong #sometimes i feel like theres really smth wrong with me man #and not in the goth way #like im goth i know that but being a goth guy is just. blegh #goth girls just have so many more options for looks it's not fair

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🎸 blasphem-baby-one-more-time reblogged

😈 mallratgothbandofficial Follow

We're coming.....and we hope you will too...

This Saturday at the Moonbeef Cafe in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania

#BE THERE OR BE SQUARE

[tea-the-not-understanding]

I still surprise that you able to design hot baddies and your sona are just a cat with long hair

Like, give us something to praise you like your characters too

For realsies, I find it hilarious and entertaining to see people love and admire my character designs and sometimes I just do it to inspire others to draw or designs as well.

But if you trying to compliment or show the same admiration towards me, then I might feel a tad uncomfy at it. Like, I do not think I wanna be called mommy or daddy like 70% of you guys who do with my character designs.

Just please keep that to other character to suffer, not me lol

And I only ship myself with coffee or monster energy drinks, need them to keep myself awake and some sleeping pills to knock myself out at night. 👍

And just say my art is good is enough to get me smiling for a whole day lol, and my friends can confirmed it as well like, I share my joy to others.

[frogskelton]

Part 5 of Scooby doo fanfic

Alejandro’s father sat at the far head of the table, leaning his head in his hand.

“So, I see,” His low voice only muttered and sighed, drawing his hand through his hair, after the gang had explained what happened. The room remains silent , remains dull, everyone remains unable to look at each other and see that look of defeat on their friend’s face.

Me Burromuerto swore muttering sometime under his breath, standing up, pushing in the chair, and rubbing his nose bridge left the room.

“Fuck,” he just muttered to himself under his breath. Leaving Tyler, Owen and Noah to walk back in through the dull hallway, the cold floor biting through their shoes. Getting ready for bed the air was silent.

The blinding morning lights seeped through the blinds and right into drenching light intoTyler’s weary eyes.

“Huuhhh, uhh,” Tyler unintelligible tried muttering, squishing into his pillow. Loud voices sounding from downstairs, though the disorientation from just waking up made and of that go in one ear and out the other.

“Guys, guys, guys!” Owen blurted out, racing around the room, already fully dressed, and seemingly somehow full awake. “The news dudes! All the cameras and film crews are here, we gotta go down!”

“Uhhh, five more minutes” Noah grumbled into his pillow, lazily waving his arm around to shoo off the noises.

“Come on, Noah!” Owen said, tugging on Noah’s arm to get him (If it was up to Noah he’d be there for eons) “We need to get stuff, so we can find Ale!”

“Ehhh” Noah kept grumbling, somewhat attempting to get up.

“Wow! Man, I thought you were still asleep.” Owen exclaimed gawking at Tyler who managed to wake up, get dress and be all ready to go in what must of been an instant.

“Yeah dudes, we gotta look for Alejandro.” Tyler said, with a determined look in his eye.

“Mmm,” Noah quietly said, finally getting his head off of his pillow.

“Time to go get some bats, bitc-” Izzy barked, pouncing up on her hind paws.

Cameras and film crews and news reporters scurried everywhere, looking for the next big scoop and where better to get it from the scene of the bat monster’s attack.

“Hi, I’m Chris Mclean, here at the scene of wher-”

“Thanks Mclean, I’m Blain-” One of the news reporters said, shoving the other one out of the way. “Ouch!” Blainely grabbing her foot in pain.

“Out! This is mine! I did everything for this,” Chris Mclean, muttered, pushing back against the, as Noah thought of her as, “fame sucking vampires.”

“Okay, so, split up and get info.” Noah said.

“Sir, what has- people- what do you know about the case?” Owen said, after slipping off, poking a intern

“I don’t know, they don’t tell me anything,” The short intern with eye bags stretching over his face grumbled.

“Oh,”

“Yeah, I’m here to double check everything, mind if I have over all the scripts and sources, you know just gotta make sure, you know.” Noah said, approaching one of the hosts, who just got off camera.

“Kid, loss the fake mustache, you aren’t shit, if you wanna waddle onto the film world, get some makeup to cover up that face and we’ll talk.” Blainely barked, feral devouring her coffee, like she was a wolf digging into some meat.

“Yeah, if only make up could cover up your personality,” Noah grumbled.

“What is she doing here?” Chris Mclean, cornered on one of his the people behind the cameras. “Cheffff, she is the worst and she is stealing his from me.” He whined like some spoiled child.

“Hey Chris, we got this, or I have an idea.” He whispered trying to keep their conversation quiet, while Tyler crept behind some of the bushes, hidden in the garden.

Owen and Tyler had reunited back together, sat on the grass.

“Anything?” Owen questioned.

“Nah, you?”

“No luck.”

“Uhhh,” Noah moaned,

“Oh wait, I think it’s Alejandro’s brother who is being interviewed, '' Owen pointed out, reinvigorating a bit of his energy.

“What’s the point of that?!” Noah groaned, waving his hand in the air. “He wasn’t even there.”

“Yeahh, let’s go watch though, maybe never know!”

Jose dramatized recapping for the loathsome news reporter who seemed entrenched, maybe people in his thrall.

“I swear he thinks Alejandro is like some helpless five year old?”

“Ah, lay off, he is his older brother, probably just protective,” Owen said “Just surprised I wonder who told him, because he wasn’t there.”

“What?” Noah blurted out.

“Yeah, he was out grabbing some stuff to refill the drink or ice or something, I forget, from the back.”

“This wasn’t mentioned before, because?!”

“It didn’t come up in conversation?”

“Owen, Owen, that’s important to the case!”

“Huh, I mean I suppose that could be important.”

“Owww,” Tyler muttered the thorns sticking into his skin, while he tried to stay as quick as possible.

“We can play the long game, you know good old sabotage?”

“Oh darling, you know me so well,” Chris snickered. “So we watch Blainely completely mess up and watch her look a fool after, you know what?”

“Ouch!” Another thorn stabbing into Tyler’s arm.

“What was that?” Chris said, suddenly worried.

“Let’s keep it down.” Chef whispered, as they walked away from where Tyler could hear.

“Nooo, come backkk,” Tyler muttered “Ouch!” more thorns stabbing into him as he slightly moved.

“So here you are!” Blainely’s show voice spitting out the dialogue held up by one of the grumbling interns. “The illusive Bat monster striking fear into the hearts of many is an honest soul,” She said “Who is very hot and I am very attracted to?” She read off, very very confused.

“Who knows what we will see next of this creature and where he could strike next! Back to you John.”

“Heh, I know some girl in high school who’d probably write a couple dozen fanfics about that” Noah quipped “Though that feels like I’d be vomit inducing.”

“Hah, yeah man! I’d read it whenever- uh- whenever- I uh- want to vomit, yeah!”

“Ow, ow ow,” Tyler whispered “Need to get out, need to get out from Al- OW!” he desperately attempting to shift his body out of the bushes, though only to be met with more thorns.

“Heyyy, kid what are you doing in there?” Chris leaned down to Tyler, still attempting to get out.

“Just gardening?” Tyler said, attempting to find an excuse.

“Not well.” Chef said, lifting Tyler out of the bushes.

“Thanks man.” Tyler sighed, after being plopped on the ground.

“Don’t worry kid!” Chris chuckled, patting Tyler weirdly in the middle of his back. “Run along now, don’t go jumping into more bushes and trust the word.” Chris and Chef walked off smirking at each other about something.

“Sure, dudes” Tyler essentially said to himself, since they’d already walked away, aqs he walked bye.

“Hey Tyler!” Owen said, waving at him, Noah standing by him, “Oh man, we’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Ah, shoot sorry man” Tyler awkwardly laughed, picking out some of the thorns stuck in his skin.

“Ooooo, the looks bad,”

“You reckon you could help get some out of the back?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, course man, yeah anytime.” Owen said, spinning Tyler around

“What the hell?” Noah blurted in.

“What, wait, wait is it??”

“It’s some kind of note…” Noah quietly muttered. “An address?”

17 east crystal cove road

Come down and say hi to your friend

I’ll be there ; )

"Ohh, like hell, obvious tra-" Noah attempted to caution

"We'll be there!" Tyler standing up tall

"Uhhh."

"Yeah, for Alejandro!" Owen said, meeting Tyler's eyes

"Yeah, for Alejandro." Tyler

"Hm! well he does still owe me, can't let him go missing now." Noah said, meeting the other twos eyes

"Yeah! Now it's time for some revenge on that turd!." Izzy pounced in.

"Where the hell have you been?!”

[theghostbunnie]

Hey, I just want you to know I really like your work! It's beautiful and really creative, and I think you understand these characters to a T, cause your headcanons are extremely in character.

Speaking of which: do you have any headcanons for David and Gwen, both individually and as friends?

AAAAAAAAAAAA TYSM THAT'S SO SWEET 💖💖💖💖 I tried to awnser this the other day but realized I was multiple paragraphs into a character analysis and not HCs (if any of you guys left me an ask and I haven't awnsered it yet I still always appreciate it I probably just plan to draw something for it or haven't got the time rn)

When David says something like "before nature took me against her bosom I was in clown school in france" (I'm not kidding he says bosom lmaooo) but he knew he loved nature at age 10, so either he was there before age 10 or the nature not yet embracing him bit meant he was withheld from it. Either his mother sent him there (cannonicaly doesn't have a dad) or he had the WEIRDEST college "figure yourself out, experiment" phase and I'm guessing the latter. He had a sudden spark of a new special interest and wanted to try pursuing it but his clowning instructor(?) scared him out of it after awhile.

I HC David wanted to be a clown bc he loved all the family friendly etiquette rules especially, ontop of the obvious making people happy and entertained.

David cannonicaly loves the zodiac signs and allthat and potential hot take but that man is a Sagittarius ♐.

David is stubborn and I feel this is an obvious fact about him but I wanna go further in depth with a HC that sometimes if he doesn't like something he won't just be in a general ol denial about it, he will full heartedly actually believe hisown truth instead.

Maybe not a "David as an individual" HC but I like to believe he respects, and likes QM's company alot! (When the man isn't being *too* off-putting) like when he's telling that ghost story about respecting your elders we see a cabin with a framed picture of silhouettes that look like QM were related to them and even the book in the story has that octopus God on it. So I assumed that was actually a real place somewhere in the woods David saw at one point/QM took him to. Either during his time as an employee or a camper himself. Also Quarter Master seems *at times* to be annoyed at David. Not like body language or facial exspressions I just get that vibe from his attitude and phrasing. He lied when he told him "fighting animals is apart of his culture" to get him to leave him alone about it I just know it.

Gwen is an anime watching "otaku" or atleast had a phase and has probably watched unheard of semi f*tish series that only lasted 10-12 episodes with really long title names. Genuinely rewatching the show so much of her screentime is hating her job in different ways or reading, writing, or playing VR 🌽. Or being a hopeless romantic. (She could've stayed with Graggle but only liked him for her monster f*tish and to romanticize herself as this YA novel MC)

She definitely LOVES x reader fics and takes on a slightly new persona in her fantasies.

I HC her with a bit of stage fright and her love for music being casual instead of a passion, that ontop of wanting to make something for herself is why she didn't piggyback off her dad's career and go into music. His career did atleast pay for whatever degree she wanted to persue (how she was able to get so many) and her fear of wasted potential is what made her have so many to begin with.

She partially willingly puts herself into positions where she gets burnt out to the point she's gotten kinda used to it.

So that's kinda why she can call it out early in David and tell him when he needs to have a break in that one EP.

David offering Gwen to read one of her stories she writes to the campers leads me to either believe he doesn't know what she writes is 🌽 or that and she also shares her sfw writing with him to get his opinion. (Which is nearly always positive but I feel like people forget David has his moments even if HE'S unaware of em) like "This chapter is excellent, Gwen!! Gosh, I'm just on the edge of my seat!! And there's only half the grammar mistakes of last time! :DD" and he fully means that as a compliment.

David also definitely got Gwen into astrology. She only cares about learning facts about her own, finding out the birthdays of celebrity and fictional characters and then seeing if they're compatible. Woman with identity issues? Eats it up.

They both loved Bob Ross before they met and it was one of the first things they bonded over as they were becoming friends. I HC Gwen was chipper at the job at the very first bit but it QUICKLY wore her down, David going off that first impression kept his excited team-loving liking of her, where as Gwen as she got to know him over those first weeks grew really annoyed with him as a coworker, but once getting to know him further than that the friendship started to become mutual.

[soldiertf2cockandballs]

THIS BLOG IS 18+, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE SOFT-BLOCKED

i warned you so don't complain lol

oki so

☆Introductions☆

Hellooo!!!!! I'm Azrael, He/Him, 21. My main is @bittersweet-zarzamora

i'm mainly into tf2 :3

This blog is for posting and rebloging stuff that's too horny or suggestive for my main.

i will also post previews and links to nsft art i've made :D

i'll make text posts sometimes too but keep in mind, they'll be pretty pathetic and sad most of the time lol

↓↓ Tags i use, kinks, dni and some notes before u follow ↓↓

first things first

do NOT flirt with me

i made this blog so i could express myself, i will answer asks related to characters i like and take art requests but that's it, please respect my boundaries. i'm not into rp so please don't try to do that with me either, thank u.

related to requests, they're closed rn but info for when they're open, i'm gonna be a tiny bit more picky with them but I'm pretty open to kink and like drawing this kinda stuff so don't hesitate to send me one :3, keep in mind that they will probably take a while, also please don't spam them or i will block you. Also i don't do art for gimmick blogs

when it comes to ship requests i can draw any ship from the most popular to the rarest one :P. just no incest, no animals (like, irl ones, monsters are fine) and don't send anything that includes characters under 18

also i can draw any kink that is on my list a lil bit below, if u want me to draw something that's not on the list don't hesitate to ask about it :> tho don't forget i can deny any idea i don't like

oki with that out of the way

☆Tags☆

#me saying stuff :] : Text posts.

#my art : Art tag.

#me rebloging stuff :] : Reblog tag.

#asks :] : Answers to asks.

#not my art : When rebloging other peoples art.

#cw *******: Content warnings

☆Kinks and shit i find hot☆

i'm including these so you know what to expect from this blog :P these are just the ones that im actively into but again i'm pretty open with kink so if u wanna request something that's not mentioned here plz don't hesitate to ask :D

there's obvs gonna be lots of vanilla stuff too but these will appear from time to time lol

Breeding

Omorashi/Watersports

Oviposition

Monsterfucking

Expansion (specially breast expansion :P)(but anything is cool lol)

Size kink (both realistic differences and micro/Macro)

Musk/Scent kink

Puppy play

Pony play

Leather

Boot kink

Wax Play

Sounding

Genital torture

Milking (both cock milking and lactation stuff :P)

Bondage

Dom/sub dynamics

S&M

Weapon play

Edging

Overstim

CNC

i'm a sub btw so if y'all see me talking about these it will be from that perspective :]

i'll try to tag any content that includes kinks, if i forget plz lmk :P

also

stuff i'm not into: ageplay, fauxcest, scat, forcefem (i'm neutral on forcemasc :P), detrans, abdl

☆DNI☆

Anyone under 18

TERFs, SWERFs and Gender Critical

Anyone bigoted towards the LGBTQIA+ community

Ableists

Racists

Anti-Kink

MAPs/PEARs/Pedos

Zoophiles

Notes

If you're a minor i will block you full stop, this is for both yours and my safety, please respect this.

If you don't have your age or age group on your blog and try to follow me i'll either soft block you or send you a message. depends on my mood lol.

Not into pro/antishipper discourse but if ur ok with incest and/or pedo ships please either block me or DNI

[sodorsteam]

Doctor's Orders

SOOOOO i wrote a little standalone Rook story U uU

as per usual, it is set in TTTE Sodor, but is mostly my own goofery.

WARNING! there is: Alcohol use, illness and a brief blood draw scene, so please be aware - if that shit freaks you out you might wanna skip this one!!

ANYWAY - i love to write! it's kinda one of my unused 'muscles' so if you like it, please let me know <3 and if you think there's things i can fix, let me know that too! <3

1 No One Knows

The Island of Sodor.  No other place on earth is quite like it.  Digging its heels against the steady pull of progress, it has stood against the monster of Modernization quixotically, a knight errant wreathed in steam.  Predictably, the island has secrets. And one of those secrets was returning to his shed, red faced and wheezing, after a particularly grueling day as one of the Living Locomotives on the NWR.

#141 Rook Drummond may not have been the busiest engine, but nonetheless he bore his labors with glowing pride.  As the NWR’s sole M7, Sodor University’s shunter at Pottersfield, and shepherd for The Ferryman (Sodor’s funeral train), Rook was careful, attentive and hard working, like any other engine.  And like many of his fleet mates, he was known to drive himself rather ruthlessly as far as his work ethic was concerned. Usually, he had routine maintenance at the steamworks, and his student drivers were instructed in tasks to extend the longevity of his replaceable parts, and maintain the bits that were meant for the long haul.

Of course, none of this applied to that particular situation that made Rook so…Rook.

As he returned home slowly, he could tell that it was going to be an unpleasant evening for him.  His boiler ached in that squirmy, uncomfortable way that he couldn’t articulate to anyone.   Not that he would have; calling attention to his various complaints was terribly rude - the most grievous of faux pas.  But in this case, he knew his affliction was one that could not be solved with a trip to the works, because of course most engines didn’t also have boilers that could be full of organs and blood occasionally. 

Rolling into his berth at Pottersfield, he patiently waited for his crew to dump his fire and bed him down for the night, bidding them a pleasant evening as they filtered out casually, their dirty coveralls stuffed into plastic bags.  Only when hours had passed and darkness fully settled over the bog did Rook finally shake and gibber, his eyes losing focus and face going slack as his whole engine frame seemed to bulge and distort, billows of flesh and gore exploding outwards to reform into the neat shape of an indeterminate beast, pleasantly plump and fluffy, standing on tiny compact hind paws and thick scaled forelimbs. He staggered for a moment and sat down hard as his boiler…No. My guts! gave an upset gurgle. He winced and rubbed a paw on the curved surface of his belly. “Gracious, this doesn’t seem quite normal.” he muttered. 

He had tried his best to ignore it.  Of course, a Very Useful Engine did not complain about a few boiler aches.  Even if those aches felt like he’d swallowed a bucketful of hot lead slugs.  But over the weeks, the slugs had been increasing in size and the bucketfuls had been coming more frequently.  It made him feel bloated and nauseated, and sometimes, only sometimes, he’d actually felt querulous enough to neglect using honorifics when addressing his crew. Scandal!

He could not go to the hospital.  He knew that. A voice, soft and sibilant, just below the surface of his consciousness, warned him that if he went to a hospital there was a very good chance he would not come back.  And he had far too much work to do to be pickled and put into jars, which is what that voice also implied in its slippery, whispery way.

But it seemed that the grace period on ignoring the issue had run out.  He would have to break down and seek medical attention, or simply break down.  He slowly got to his feet and slumped to a cluttered desk shoved near the wall of his shed, where the students stashed various bric a brac for their weekly work at the archaeological site deep in the bog.  He opened the first drawer, which squeaked open reluctantly, it was so jammed with rumpled papers.  He removed a thick sheaf of paper and peered down his nose at them, through his little round glasses.

His paws trembled as he rifled through the stack.  Pizza delivery, bakery services (Novelty shaped cakes our specialty!) dry cleaners.  A drop of sweat rolled down his long nose and dotted...Ah.

‘ANTON KOZLOV, DVM.  Services for agrarian and domestic animals.’

Rook tilted his head to the side as he reread the information out loud.  He wasn’t sure if this applied to ‘industrial animals’ as well, but he stifled a moan and a greasy belch into his paw, and realized he probably had no choice in the matter.

It was pickle jars or this.

Rook neatly replaced the papers, straightend his back with a litany of pops, and gathered his pocket book and overcoat.  

***

2 SCOTCH   

Anton Kozlov’s family had come to Sodor by train generations ago. And even if they were not Sudrian forged they had taken to the life there as if they had been, and his whole family had flourished. Kozlov had as well, but he had secrets too.

Perhaps they were not as secret as he thought though, as his clients had been dwindling slowly since Masha had left him.  It was true that there were many veterinarians on Sodor, given that the island fully embraced its agrarian lifestyle, but there was more than enough work. But Masha had left him. And he hadn’t thought much of the work was worth doing. Sudrian scotch though, now that had been worth doing. Again and again. As soon as he stepped inside his home and locked the door behind him, he felt the weight of the bottle in his hand before he even set his house keys on the hook.  By day he was a respected member of the community; tall, broad chested and strong of limb, dark hair going gray at the temples, with deep set, intelligent eyes. By night he was just the man Masha had left because he liked that aforementioned scotch too much.

Kozlov had returned home at about the same time as Rook, but he was now half a bottle deep and sitting in the dark of his comfortable renovated farmhouse on Trevithick Row, wearing his silk undershirt and scrubs. The television was on, trying to pierce the haze of his intoxication, telling him all about the state of the world.  He was looking at his expensive orthopedic shoes, with their gel inserts and arch support, and wondering if the spots on the toe were blood, mud or shit.  He frowned. Sometimes he wondered if his life was the same. He’d been voted the best veterinarian on Sodor by the chamber of commerce for 15 years. That was achievement.

He picked up a chip from the white plastic take out tray (don’t worry- the chips had been accompanied by terribly overpriced but terribly delicious beer battered, organic ling cod from a trendy seafood shop in town. Not skint was the good doctor.) and swished it around in the cold curry sauce, eating it by rote.

That was nadir.

He was content to continue this spiral round the drain for the next few hours when he heard what he thought was a knock at the door. He looked up sharply.  Certainly, malignancy lived in the shade of every city, but it seemed to have a harder time taking root in Sodor’s soils; and found even less sustenance in Wellsworth. But Kozlov’s closest neighbor was a mile and a half away. His ears strained. The knock came again. He stood. Somehow managing to shake off the double vision of self-medicated drowsiness, he grabbed the M1 Carbine that lived peacefully over his door, hoping that it was more awake than he was and would succeed where he failed at intimidation.  He boomed out a loud ‘Who is it’, gripped the doorknob and let the night air and cricket symphony in.

He heard the soft howl of a steam whistle, far away, haunted and haunting.

Kozlov stared out into his neat front lawn, hanging from the doorjamb like a sailor hanging from the mast.  He grunted, seeing nothing, and carefully turned himself to skulk back inside, cowed.

“D….Doctor Kozlov? Dee Vee Em?” 

Kozlov’s watery eyes rolled downwards to catch sight of a small, phenomenally ugly child in a moth eaten suit. Except that children did not generally dress like 19th century undertakers.  Nor did children have railroad spike noses, horsey ears, and a long swinging tail.

Kozlov just continued to stare, then realized that the not-child had asked him a question, and was politely waiting for a response. 

“Ye.” 

That was all the university educated man could muster.  He dropped the bottle of scotch he’d been nursing and cursed eloquently, the resultant high pitched glass bomb of noise startled the man-creature, but it seemed to recombobulate itself just as easily.  He (he!?!) nervously cleared his throat and spoke in a soft, deep little voice that Kozlov had to crane forward to hear.

“I apologize for the lateness, doctor.  Your leaflet did say you were open after hours…”

The little thing held out a worn, foxed sheet of newspaper. Kozlov took it, eyes still pinned on the visitor. He forced his gaze to the object in his hand, and staring back at him from the yellowed page was an advertisement Kozlov himself had placed in the local Sudrian papers 23 years previously, when the economy had slowed to a crawl and he’d been making his scotch money by assisting difficult deliveries of calves and foals at all hours.  He stared incredulously, reading the fine print that stated he was open to late night inquiries.  Well, here it was late night, and here was an inquiry. He opened his mouth to complain, but the little man winced.  He put a wee hand (paw!?!) to his belly,  his strange pinched face crumpling.  

The way Kozlov could see it, he had two options.  He could go to bed. Which he probably should have done so hours ago. Or he could help.  

A lifetime ago, Kozlov had been given his diploma and taken a vow that stated he “will strive to promote animal health and welfare and relieve animal suffering”.  And to his credit, he had done so as much as possible when he was called on to do so. Even after Masha had left.

But did that oath apply to figments brought on by scotch fueled benders?

Here was this itty bitty man, elf sized at the highest (but perhaps not elf weight: the guy looked like he did not skip any little fairy meals) decked in clothes from the victorian age, looking like someone had mashed a dead kangaroo with a roadkill house cat and called it a day. 

Am I actually going to administer aid to a hallucination?

“I can pay sir.” The little fellow whimpered.

Well. Can’t turn away a suffering hallucination, especially not one with a checkbook.

“C…come in” Almost as if in a dream, Kozlov held the door open wider, to allow the miniature undertaker inside.

Rook inclined his head gratefully, he shuffled into the first home he’d ever been inside. Neat, (thank you to Brigit the maid who came every Thursday) cozy, and well kept. Rook’s little bun feet pattered on the dark wood, his claws like those of an old family dog clicking on the floors, as he furtively looked around at the realm of the House Human; the comforts and conveniences, the accoutrement and ornament.  He liked it.  It was like a soft echo of the pride his Victorian makers had exhibited when they built the engines that had once powered the world; bright and glossy with brass and pin striping.

Kozlov followed him in, still in a state of lazy shock. He snapped on lights and stumbled into his office - clean, white and scrubbed down. He reminded himself that he was dreaming. Or hallucinating. But the hallucination staunchly refused to disappear.  “this way,” he grunted, ushering Rook into the office.

Kozlov grabbed his stethoscope and the digital thermometer from his desk.  As his vet techs were not on call in the evenings any longer, he prepared his instruments himself. He asked curt questions while he did so.

“Age?”

“126”

“Sex?”

“…blush male”

“Breed?”

“Drummond M7”

Kozlov wondered if it would be wise to risk his back trying to lift this Sudrian leprechaun onto the table. He split the difference by pulling over another small stool, indicating that Rook should take a seat, which he did. 

 “What seems to be the problem?” Kozlov asked.

Rook blinked. He’d just been asked more questions about himself than he’d ever answered and was still digesting the experience when the imposing doctor bludgeoned him again. What was the problem? How to articulate it?

As an engine, it was his boiler. As a beast? Deep in his body somewhere, below his heart. In this, the closest he could get to human, he could feel a fierce knot of pain in his chest that radiated angrily outwards, and it was aggressively making itself known currently.  He knitted his worried brow.

“I feel ill, as though I might be sick. And I feel quite tired and uncomfortably full, and it hurts here, in my…erm…this.” He settled lamely, patting the upper part of his stomach.

Kozlov nodded, finding it peculiar that this drunken fiction had such a soft, calming voice. Almost like a lullaby. He nodded, stifling a yawn behind his hand.

“Right. shirt off.”

“M…Must I?” 

The hallucination is shy? Naturally. Why not?

“‘Fraid so Mr. erm…”

“Rook. Rook Drummond”

“shirt off.”

While the fussy little thing shucked its multiple layers neatly, Kozlov looked at the thermometer…he slid the plastic sheaf over the sensor, but omitted the lube; he hoped he’d be lucky enough to forgo the usual method of employ and just ask.

Rook sat shyly, stripped to the skin from the waist up.  He was alway keenly aware he hadn’t perfected his human shape. It seemed far too bulky, far too awkward. Furless, but fuzzy like a peach. And certainly this learned man of Medicine would know just how far off the mark he actually was.

Kozlov kneeled by him, noting the big, badly healed scar on Rook’s left side.  The hallucination smelled like something familiar, and something else deep and vital, unpleasant. The smell made him queasy. He put the earpieces of his stethoscope in and placed the resonator on Rook’s chest.  It was cold. Rook startled back just a little.

“Sir, do you think I shall be able to return to work so…”

Kozlov shushed him, putting a finger to Rook’s lips.  He took the opportunity to put the thermometer in his mouth. 

“Under the tongue. Don’t bite”

Kozlov frowned. He listened hard. He heard a heartbeat…but he also heard an uncomfortable liquid sliding and squelching. Like tectonic plates of flesh and mud.

He blinked. He moved the stethoscope down to this alcohol fueled horror’s belly, and here was a rhythmic cacophony. The phrase meat hell came unbidden into his mind.

He just listened, gorge rising, threatening to make a mess of this clean and tidy exam room. The beep of the thermometer brought him out of his terror-stricken musing, and he removed the probe.  

Error.

Well, that did make sense. He’d felt the heat coming off this freakish vision even before he’d touched him. But here it was, with a Dante’s inferno in its head and an eldritch chorus in its guts, and still on its feet, reasonably coherent.

“You’re running a fever.”

“I’m a steam engine.”

Kozlov rubbed his tired eyes. He wondered what it would look like from the outside. A 50 year old man, a 50 year old alcoholic, talking to himself and trying to medically diagnose a gargoyle or demon or imp or gnome. Trying to keep his life together through the haze of drink that had lowered the visibility in his mind to nil.

But long ago, Masha had told him (ironically, when she too had been drunk on one of their sadly few anniversaries, the gin blossom on her face was the exact shade of pink he would dream about for the rest of his life) that she loved his compassion. That he always helped. And so he would help.

He looked at his patient, who was trying to be as small as possible, clutching his little rat paws, arms crossed over his chest, shy as a bathing maiden. This thing was a hallucination, but he still owed it a proper diagnosis. He had a very good hunch. Well. Good as any. “I need some blood”.

Rook’s eyes widened. He looked to his left and right comically, as if thinking surely he was not for whom the blood was for. Kozlov retrieved the phlebotomist kit from the closet.  He would not have been able to admit that he was enjoying this somewhat, the rituals of medicine that he usually passed on to the techs, but he certainly was.  Granted, he’d have never in a billion years attempted venipuncture while balls deep in the drink on a REAL patient, but why stop the farce now? He rubbed the crook of the goblin’s arm with an alcohol towlette, tied the elastic tourniquet, and readied the vacutainer.

He then realized the goblin was shaking. Quite badly. He looked up at Rook.

“Just stay still.  Make a fist. You’ll feel a little prick and then pressure. Open your hand. Look at the painting on the wall over there. Do you…work around here?”

“On the NWR sir…as a sh…shunter.”

“Mmh, hard work.”

“Yes sir. Very hard…”

“Like it, do you?”

“Oh yes sir…I do. It’s not easy pulling such heavy loads, but the work at the bog is satisfying.”

Kozlov heard the tone of the hallucination change. Pride. Accomplishment. Satisfaction.

Then the samples were collected, the needle withdrawn, and Kozlov placed a neon pink bandage on the collection site. He stared at Rook long enough that the latter started to sweat.

“Get dressed.”

The doctor strode out, leaving Rook alone, confused and smarting.

The whole ordeal had been rather humiliating, and now it seemed this big doctor man was angry with him. He’d never fathomed that he could be so utterly put together wrong that he was offensive. He gritted his teeth, feeling hot shame prickling his cheeks, the ugly bubble of emotion starting to boil over in him…

Meanwhile, Kozlov checked the results.

H. Pylori. He pumped his fist. Just as he thought. 

Kozlov stumbled to the bathroom. In a cabinet, behind bottles of pink bismuth and rolls of unopened antacids was a nearly full bottle of omeprazole and plastic blister packs of antibiotics. He swept the whole lot into a plastic bag.

He returned to the office as Rook was walking out, dressed neatly, unable to look Kozlov in the eye.

“Doctor, I’m terribly, terribly sorry for the inconvenience I have ca…”

Kozlov stopped him.

“Stomach ulcer. Easy to treat.”

He kneeled next to Rook carefully, feeling the alcohol vertigo threaten to dump him on his ass for a moment, and started lifting the strange new treats out of the bag and explaining them carefully.

“Take this every day, once a day. Take these morning and night until they are all gone. Don’t forget. Take a few of these ones every time you…eat? Or whatever you do. No coffee, tea, alcohol or soft drinks. Have a spoonful of this if you feel sick.”

“Give me your hand.”

He opened a roll of antacids and shook three out into Rook’s palm. 

“Eat.”

Rook, responding best to unequivocal orders, ate the little fruit flavored tablets with no delay. 

Kozlov watched him like a buzzard wheeling over a kill. Rook quailed under the scrutiny…the smell of alcohol on the doctor’s breath very strong, his stained under shirt very white. His intense eyes with their dull dagger glare. 

I should have stayed home. I don’t belong anywhere. I don’t want to…oh. I…I feel…

“I feel better sir…” 

Rook murmured softly. And indeed, he did. That horrible burning was abating, and with it the nausea and tightness.  His shoulders slumped, relieved.

Kozlov stood.

“Keep up the meds. You’ll heal in a few weeks.”

For the first time that evening, the doctor smiled.

Kozlov watched his patient as he pobbled back into the night, going gods knew where.

As he stood on his front stoop, he looked at the shards of glass from the broken bottle of scotch. He’d only managed to drink half of it before he’d imagined up the most realistic troll he’d ever seen.  He closed and locked the door and climbed the stairs to bed. 

Masha once said she loved my compassion. Compassion I even had for a figment of my drunk mind. 

He had a lot to think about. But he didn’t need to think about it tonight. 

***

Rook was back at the bog, tucked into his nest.  He had returned home, washed, and slipped into his pajamas feeling lighter and more at ease than he had in weeks.  He looked at all his new acquisitions, the little plastic bottles of pills - the label said ‘KOZLOV, ANTON - OMEPRAZOLE - DR. BEHER. TAKE ONCE A DAY ’ Which he didn’t quite understand but would absolutely follow to the letter.

Doctor’s orders, after all.

He rolled on his side and closed his eyes.  Somewhere out in the dark, he heard the howl of an engine, and felt, at least for now, that he was a part of something very large and powerful, something proud and brave. And that was a secret he enjoyed keeping.

***

[lunariamv]

about me :>

so i just realized i cant just be some random person posting stuff without much context..... so here we go

┊⠀┊   ┊⠀┊

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚     ✧

˚✧

hi, my name is lunaria, or luna ^^

˚✧ some grill that wants to be a artist, writer, and maybe like a lowkey game dev

˚✧ i consume a lot of media: video games, anime, yt, movies, tv shows, books, fanfics, etc

˚✧ i really love the impact media and stories have on the world and people, and there's a lot i love, but also there's a lot out there that frustrates me, or feels like it's missing something, so i wanna throw my hat into the ring and make my own content for me and other girls like me <3

˚✧ atm i write fanfics to practice writing and build an audience, and i draw fanart to improve art skill, also just so i have an art portfolio,,,, cuz if i just started posting games without much of a background i feel like ppl are gonna be like,, "who tf is this???" lol

⊹˚. game dev??? ⊹˚.

i'm really interested in making my own games, specifically rpg maker ones because rpg maker/rpg horror/indie horror is my fav genre (pewdiepie's misao gameplay was my first horror game ever <3); i just love retro horror style a lot

so i'm practicing pixel art and stuff and then later i want to learn some 日本語 so i can translate the games, and also learn to make music so i can go full toby fox lol

and then maybe later on if i got rlly ambitious and had a lot of money id make fancy otome games, manga, fancy horror games, and pERSONA FOR GIRLS

i have a lot of ideas for diff series and id love to share them all <3

⊹˚. my inspirations: ⊹˚.

˚✧ game wise: currently my inspirations are charon (of those yan charon games) and dsp (ik they go by a different name now but that's what i know them as, also its funny because the name reminds me of darksydephil HAHAHA); i like the retro pixel and slight horror themes and aesthetic of their games, but i dislike the writing, so i'm gonna make my own :D

also i like the idea of an oc multiverse like dsp's so i want that too

toby fox is also technically an inspiration too; i wanna learn music so i can make my own bangers with little references and leitmotifs for fun :>>>

˚✧ writing wise: i have a lot, but my main inspirations are mostly like writing in the anime-ish games; danganronpa, persona, ace attorney, yttd, kakegurui; psychological stuff where you gotta think about them, but they also have unique quirky characters and they interact with each other in creative ways

also horror and psychological, i like writing about scary stuff and characters with their complexities, and addressing the rlly messed up parts of humanity and society bc its spooky;; sometimes with a very dark nihilistic outlook bc i love angst, or sometimes with an optimistic one

((thats kinda why i like yan stories but more in the horror sense, like look at all the crazy scary stuff this person is doing lol))

but for characters in general, i like stuff with FEMCS <33333 persona 3 with ya girl kotone shiomi, danganronpa v3 with kaede, sara in your turn to die, genshin lumine, and that one part in ace attorney where we get to play as mia fey

that's also why i lowkey like the writing in romcom/chick flick movies, cuz its just unique characters and stories and usually has a female protag or a group of girls as the mcs

LIKE MISS CONGENIALITY, MEAN GIRLS, AND LEGALLY BLONDE I LOVE THOSE MOVIES SM AND I HAVE MILLIONS MORE EXAMPLES BUT WE'D BE HERE FOREVER

but aside from heavy and horror stories, i also like simple cute straightforward stories like older barbie movies XD (or winx, mlp, bratz, monster high…); they're just really wholesome and cute where ya girl goes on a magical adventure with quirky characters and learns good lessons like trust, courage, friendship, etc…

ITS MUSHY BUT I LOVE IT AAAAA

so my main theme is being a girl and doing stuff, bc girlbossing is fun

but ya know i like making hot guy characters too wwwww

⊹˚. my art/writing style ⊹˚.

i'd say in general its like a mix of asian themes with western; its like anime but with western elements in it

i'd also sometimes like to explore other cultures too, kinda like how jjba has varying characters bc that's cool;; but if i have characters with varying nationalities its because i want to, not bc a woke person held me at gunpoint

⊹˚. aesthetics ⊹˚.

i have a lot that i like, but here's my main favorites i guess that will be in my things

˚✧ cute + edgy; melanie martinez, lucy loone, yandere, ddlc;; basically anything where you juxtapose cutesy with scary horror -- its so fun and subversive

˚✧ femcel/female sigma/doomer girl/anti-egirl; LANA DEL REY LANA DEL REY bc i'm a sad girl

˚✧ retro things; 80s and 90s but mostly early 2000s stuff; early internet, old stuff, y2k, scene/emo, mcbling -- huge emphasis on mcbling, i love the girly hedonistic aspects of it -- ayesha erotica, panty and stocking, bad girls club;; that aesthetic i love it sm LETS DO OUR NAILS AND PARTY ^^^^^^

˚✧ internet horror stuffs -- indie horror, analog horror, internet mysteries, meta horror, local58, mandela catalogue, fnaf, creepypastas, liminal spaces

˚✧ then some internet guy stuff -- vaporwave, cyberpunk, blade runner, hotline miami, madness combat, carpenter brut, etc -- i'm tomboyish in this regard xd, i fangirl over guns and edgy sigma guys fighting

⊹˚. extra stuff about me (bc who tf r u >_>) ⊹˚.

writes a character bio

˚✧ name: luna

˚✧ some randy girl that likes to make stuff

˚✧ not rlly a weeb but i like asian culture a lot, japanese, chinese, korean, vietnamese, thai, laos, filipino (yes), etc

˚✧ sigma?? i think people should be rewarded based on talent and skill, rather than their identity. if i am successful, its because my work is good, not because i am a minority. i'm also learning to draw, write, make music, etc because i want to make content without having to rely on others for assets. why ask other people if i can do it myself? B)

˚✧ i like cute things and being girly, like dressing up and having stuffed animals and cute stationary everywhere :> if i have a chance to be extra and decorate something, i will take it in a heart beat

˚✧ i'm a stocking kin, i love sweets, cake specifically, and milk tea (im addicted to boba its horrible T-T)

˚✧ i like tea, i drink 2-3 cups a day :) oolong is my fav atm

˚✧ cat >>>>

˚✧ unhealthy attraction to fictional men… currently thirsting over tohru adachi 💀💀💀 LOL my friends are like "eww wtf is wrong with you???" i must be a raccoon because i really love garbage

☸ my links ☸

all my links are on caard, but here's an organized list of the main ones; my tumblr will be my main hub for stuff i guess; the degree of activity ranges ;-;

˚☸ art stuff

✧ newgrounds (i wanna be a newgrounds girl tbh)

✧ twitter

✧ insta

✧ tiktok

˚☸ writing stuff (fanfictions)

✧ quotev

✧ wattpad

✧ archive

˚☸ oc archive

✧ deviantart (bc im too lazy to code toyhouse atm)

also apologies if i dont respond to things fast enough, im shy

˚☸ dividers by cafekitsune

[hours2hours]

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Hold on, I’m going to get help.”

My arms hang loosely over the windowsill. A breeze blows through the plants but the sun is so warm the chill isn’t bothersome. No, what bothers me is the voice that comes after that line, the words that Mateo’s killer mumbles over and over. The mystery of it all could drive me mad. Could it be a clue, or just deranged ramblings? When dad showed the police I thought something would come of it. Days have passed since then and nothing. Maybe Annie and Joel are right about the cops out here, maybe they really don’t care.

The only way I could think of another lead is through Mateo himself, and the way he was acting before he disappeared. But recollecting those mundane days now feel like a red-hot stick of iron. Remembering feels like a memorial, like admitting he’s dead and gone forever, but I still have to try.

Mateo was away at a friend’s place for two days straight, but I knew it was a lie. Mateo never had friends in Matlock Beach, and almost as few back home. It wasn’t something I thought about much, just didn’t click with others like with family. He always seemed one step out of reality, took any chance to escape with his drawings and stories. When others went out to party he’d escape to the woods with nothing but his spirituality and a sketchbook. I think it scared a lot of people off, but he never seemed to mind. We had each other. He’d make me come outside and I’d be his connection to others. We were messed up but covered each others weaknesses, we were company and inspiration, brothers. 

The other sign was his state when he finally stumbled home one morning, one week before he disappeared. His hair and face were caked with dirt and grime, cargo pants torn at the knees, shirt ripped from the collar. He sat at the dinner table, I awaited an explanation, but he only stared through the window. I tried to tell him that Dad and I were worried, but he didn’t even seem to hear me. Mateo whipped out his sketchbook and scribbled with black pastels, mumbling some half-hearted excuse and a made up friend’s name. 

I didn’t want to push force an answer, because if something was wrong he would tell me. Mateo told me everything, first kisses, nightmares, dreams, to depressive thoughts he still had.

Or maybe I just needed an excuse not to ask.

“What're you drawing?” I eventually asked. “New cave-dwelling monster?” He stared laser-focused at the page and didn’t answer, not so subtly shifting his arm to block the image. 

As time went on and I assured our father he was alive, Mateo eventually pulled out a pencil and began writing. Sometimes he would scribble little notes or stories when the idea struck. But he just kept going, on and on and on. When I stood to ready myself for school, he’d almost filled the page with writing.

Five quick knocks pop my focus like a bubble. I sigh quietly and wipe my eyes, exiting my room for the first time today.

After carefully fixing my hair, I prepare myself to wave away the missionary or salesperson. Instead, I’m face to face with Joel, who carries a cup of coffee and a forced smile. It’s hard to say if it’s the slight tilt to his right, the fading bruises, or slight redness to the eyes that tips me off. But something’s wrong, something new.

“Brought you a coffee,” he holds out a grey cup from the Cafe, “Double-double right?”

I take the cup and thank him, surprised he remembers how I like it.

“Sorry I didn’t text first just…” He trails off. “Just wanted to see if you felt like hangin’ today.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “That sounds great, you wanna come in?”

“Actually, I was hopin’ to get you out of that room. It’s been a few days.”

A deep sinking feeling fills my stomach, the same one that plagued me back when Mom died. “Old habits are a bitch. Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

After a quick change out of sweatpants and two full minutes managing my mess of hair, I decide the wind will mess it up anyway. I double, then triple check the locks, biding my time before I have to leave to the outside world.

But then I see Joel waiting for me, a genuine smile through all that stifled pain, and suddenly it’s easy. “I’ve got a place I bet even you haven’t found.”

“That’d be impressive,” Joel answers. 

We make our way out of town, walking along the ditch into sunflower fields. We’re out of town limits now, out the West side this time. This area has few crop fields surrounded by dense woods abuzz with insect life. Even at the side of the road the bugs are everywhere; the honeybees working hard accompanied by butterflies, grasshoppers, crickets and spiders. Joel distances himself from the wall of flowers, walks in the very middle of the road. The instinct against things that buzz is understandable. I myself couldn’t stand the things for most of my life until I stopped to observe. “Hey, check this out,” I allow a centipede to crawl between my fingers, tickling me with its tiny legs.

He takes a moment to focus, then steps back. “Get that demon away from me.”

“It won’t bite, c’mon.”

“I heard those things spray cyanide.” He shivers.

“Maybe if you give the little guy a chance, he’ll spare you.” Just as I’m about to put it back, Joel takes a hesitant step towards me. “Happy?”

“Very,” I smile. Joel snickers.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re so damn weird, man.” He smiles and walks closer to me again. 

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Good, ‘cause it is.”

We’re approaching the point where the fields end and forest begins, so I hang a right down a dirt path between flowers and woods.

“Still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Joel kicks a rock into the trees.

“It’s something I’ve been meaning to show you. Trust me you’ll like it.” At least I hope he does. “Mateo and I found this spot after we moved here, before I met you guys.” Joel doesn’t say anything. Soon the sun hides beneath the canopy of trees, sunlight only penetrating the gaps. Joel catches me lingering though, and stops as I gaze through the spaces in the trees. “What’re you lookin’ at bud?” 

“Nothing,” I reply instantly. 

“Been staring at nothin’ a lot lately. You sure?”

“Well are you seeing anything? Cause the ‘quiet kid’ finally snapping seems more reasonable.” 

“No, but…”

“But what?”

Joel bites his lip. “Everytime you’re seeing things, I’ve been hearin’ odd noises. A creaking that gives me chills.”

“It’s not just the trees?”

“That’s the thing. I’ve heard creaky old trees all my life, but they sound nothin’ like this. I dunno. At least you’re not the only one losing it.”

A long pause, and I think I hear what he’s talking about. A squeaky tree? Maybe. But when wind flows through, the sound comes after like an echo. We continue.

Joel stands close to avoid scratching himself on the branches, so much so our bodies are nearly touching. An arm grazes here and our hands skim each other’s unexpectedly. “Hope you’re not taking those mumblings to heart. They’re all brainless, and in a few weeks we won’t have to see ‘em ever again.”

“I’ll try not to take it to heart.”

“‘Cause anyone who gets to know ya knows how kind, and creative, and funny you really are. It’s their loss.” 

Thank’s Joel,” I reply. 

If something’s wrong, would Joel tell me? In the year I’ve known him he's never come to me about serious matters, for a while I figured it was the casual relationship we had. But now we’re investigating a killer with connections to both of us, we were nearly busted for drugs, broke into a restaurant, and it still feels like he’s keeping things from me. Then again, I didn’t exactly ask. Maybe if I hadn’t been so afraid to check up on my brother he’d have told me, then I could have done something to prevent this mess.

“So… shit’s been crazy huh?” I blurt. Normally I’d plan a conversation like this, and this is why. “How have you been holding up?” “Ehh,” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“I hope you know you can talk to me about stuff, if you want I mean. I’m not the best at advice, but I’m a pretty good listener. I’m really glad I met you, otherwise I’d really have no one right now. And if we’re gonna be friends, I want us to talk about the real stuff, I wanna help if I can.”

“The same goes for you.” Joel snickers and looks me in the face. “You’re a good friend, too good for a guy like me.”

“Wrong,” I chuckle.

He pauses, gust of wind blowing shaggy brown hair into his face. “Alright, caught me. Parents kicked me out, took my phone, it’s why I didn’t text first.”

“What happened?

“They got a few emails, ‘bout how I’m failing classes, among other stuff. It’s nothin’ I don’t already have coming.”

“So they just kick you out for the day when they’re mad?” I ask.

“Yeah, you know. The ol’ ‘Go spend the day outdoors because we can’t stand to look at ya’ Schtick. It’s the only way Mom can deal with me nowadays.” My hands fumble around the sides of my pants, feeling for the lone cigarette I had left in them, but no dice on the lighter. Luckily Joel hands me one, then takes it back to light a joint.

Joel sighs, stepping over the emerging roots of an oak tree. “I’m just a screw up. Everyone knows it.”

“Well, you’re there when I need you, and Annie, and Otto.” I take another drag and look away into the trees. “I’d have no one if I didn’t have you right now. I might have lost my mind a lot sooner if you didn’t have my back. So don’t say you’re a screw up, okay?”

“You’d have Annie at least.”

“I only met her because you thought I needed more friends. That was an awesome thing for you to do.”

“I guess.”

“And I like hanging out with you. You’re the only one in the world who I can ramble to about neutron stars or black holes over the phone at two am.”

“Even though I fell asleep last time.”

“You stayed awake for me even when you were gonna pass out. That’s what a good friend does.”

My eyes find his, and they’re just as red as before. He smiles sadly and moves just a little closer to me. After a moment of silence, he whispers, “thanks”.

We arrive at a dead tree on the right side of the path. It’s branches stick out like daggers, bringing me back to the day we found it. It was summer of last year, about a month after moving to Matlock. Mateo and I had been trying to get away from the house because Dad was throwing a fit. He had caught me smoking and flipped out, saying some hurtful things in the name of helping me. Mateo told him off, but I’d already locked myself away for the remainder of the night. Unlike Joel’s family, our parents always sent us to our rooms when they couldn’t deal with us. Until Mateo appeared, tapping on the glass of my bedroom window. We snuck out to kill some time in the great outdoors. He was quite the nature lover, so he took me to the woods where we explored for a few hours. When we found the tree I couldn’t shake its significance. The dead oak felt like an arrow pointing to something no one has found before, and to pur mutual shock, it was.

Joel and I push through sticks and leaves that scratch our faces. Since we’ve gone off-path, we need to walk single-file. It’s a short walk before we arrive, but I still think about bringing up what happened at school the other day. We talked a little with Annie while she dodged detention, but it didn’t really do anything for our investigation. If anything it would point more evidence to Wendy, which doesn’t really help us right now. All we know is that whoever messed up Joel’s car was thinking ahead, which is more than Joel thinks Wendy is capable of. Until we get any other leads it looks like we hit a dead end, and bringing that up now doesn’t seem helpful.

So I make sure to emerge first so I can see Joel’s face as he sees it for the first time. I find it difficult to rely on people’s words to know if they appreciate something the way I do, so many people act polite. But it’s all there in the way Joel’s face lights up in awe. Right in front of us is a deep lake with large and small rocks across the shore, but the rest of the clearing is tall grass flattened by months of private hangouts and smoke sessions away from home. The area is about twenty feet in diameter, and everything about it is perfect. It’s the spot where Mateo and I would come to drink coffee and talk about what was bothering him that day, it’s where I would come to have alone time on the bad days. It’s where I spend my time when I need to draw and be alone, but I know I can trust Joel with it. In a way, it’s a bit more personal than showing him my room.

“What do you think?” I ask.

Joel gazes up into the clear blue sky, at the pine and oak trees that tower over our heads. “It’s like I walked into one of your paintings.”

The current is slow and inviting today, a fantastic spot to sit and study or draw. I quickly find myself at its side to hide my hot face. Joel takes his overshirt off and spreads it out over the grass. He takes a smooth rock and skips it across the water. He smirks at me but there’s something else to his expression, like a bit of pride mixed with embarrassment.

“Saw some woods like those in one of your paintings, with your brother. You take him here too?” He asks. 

I douse the embers on my shoe and place the butt in my pocket. “We found it together, actually. I thought the trees were pointing to something, and they were.” I only realize how insane the sentence sounds after it's said out loud.

“Maybe the forest wanted you to find it,” He says with only a sliver of irony.

“You don’t strike me as a spiritual type.”

“Hell no,” He pauses with another rock in hand ready to throw, but doesn’t. “Why, are you?”

“Religious you mean?”

“Yeah, all that crap.”

“Sort of,” I answer truthfully. “My father held respect for the dead, he builds shrines for my Mother and other family we’ve lost. I don’t believe in it I guess, but it helps me feel close to her, so I understand it.”

“Sorry Miles, I didn’t mean to sound like a total ass just now.”

“From your experience I don’t blame you. The fact that our universe exists at all is pretty much as unexplainable as it gets. Some higher power doesn’t seem so impossible.”

Joel jumps up, stretching his back when I know a bug just landed on him. “‘Nuff of that. I see somethin’ over thataway and I’d like to check it out.” 

“Perfect, that was our next stop actually.” About ten meters south stands an elm tree rising far into the sky. It’s base about five feet in width with branches spiraling around. An old bench circles the bottom, swallowed by centuries of growth. It sits in the perfect spot, surrounded by lush green yet shaded and cool.

Joel stares above at the canopy above our heads and steps up the bench. “Seems you’re not the only one who enjoyed it.” He says, hopping down and taking a seat. 

“C’mon,” I take Joel’s wrist in my hand and pull him off the bench, “There’s more.” I guide him to the rear side of the tree, back in the deep of the woods. Several meters away sits a heap of rotten wood, blanketed under dirt and moss.

“I think this was a house at some point, but I have no idea what happened to it. Mateo and I sometimes made up stories.”

“You should tell me your stories.”

“Maybe another time.”

Joel follows to the rear end of the rubble, testing the unstable ground with my feet. Sweeping away leaves with my feet reveals a grey trap door.

“Don’t tell me-”

“It isn’t a sex dungeon.”

He nudges me with an elbow, “So artsy, yet you lack imagination.”

Butterflies shoot through my body where we touched, I try not to let it show. “I’ve actually never been inside. Mateo checked it out once, turns out it’s full of dead things and maggots.”

Joel swallows hard, visible dread crossing his face. “Maybe just a peek…?”

Suppressing the urge to heed Mateo’s words, I place my fingers into the dirt and lift with my legs. The door is heavier than I’d expect, or sealed tightly. Joel shines a light into the murky basement, walls lined with rotten shelves, rat droppings, and of course, lots of bugs. Joel shudders, yet seems delighted at the find. He begins to dust himself off, but he spots something that silences him down to the breath. Joel illuminates a crawlspace in the far corner, leading into a long dark hallway extending beyond the light. Looking deeper, almost mesmerized by the darkness, two points of white light appear. I shoot up from the ground and slam the door shut. Joel eyes me questioningly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.

Joel zips his lips shut, heading back towards the main clearing. He dusts off the bench around the elm tree and takes a seat, I sit next to him.

“Thanks for showin’ me this,” He says. His tone changed since he arrived at my house, subtle, but there’s a little more life in it.

“I’m glad I could finally show someone. Do you want to leave? I know the bugs freak you out.”

He taps my knee with his palm, smiles, “This time, I think I’ll tough it out.”

***

It’s getting late by the time Joel and I are heading back, I can’t help but hope he leaves feeling better than when he came. The sun is hanging low over fields blowing softly. Though the forest is long behind our backs, I find myself staring back, at the silhouette of trees against pink sky. The stars peeking through seem so eerily like eyes.

At some point Joel switched on music, by the time we reach sunflower fields Joel’s playing air guitar, I join in with the drums. “God, when are we starting a band bro?”

“Unfortunately I have zero musical skills whatsoever. In another lifetime maybe.” Things continue this way until we reach my house again. “I don’t suppose you wanna come in again?”

“Thanks Miles, but I’m ‘sposed to meet with Ruby soon, figure out this family mess.” Joel smiles warmly. “But thanks for today. I really needed it.”

At the door I turn to him, “I hope you figure things out soon. Let me know if you need a place to crash, or if you wanna lose at more videogames.” 

Joel pats me on the shoulder, “I will. Night man.”

The door shuts to a quiet house, as it will stay for another endless night.

[thetentaclecommander]

*Why do you seem to mostly write RE rarepairs?* Is a question I asked myself a lot. At first (and the number one main reason) it was that I like this pair, they speak to me and are interesting/hot to me together. Later it was 'oh, cause I just like monster/human ships'. Which woulda held true if I didn't end up doing other human ships so that punched that sole reason in the face. Many pairs I've ended up writing sure, came from fleshing out the AU and becoming ascended extras that I love writing about, too. I'd figure you kinda have to at least like a pair to write it imo (I don't believe in being miserable while you write). But they all tended to be just as rair as my crackship main. This was so unintended. And it's not like I don't like the more common fandom wide pairs (most RE pairs/polys/ect aren't canon so it's not canon avoidance either!) I literally will read any configuration as long as the story moves me. Heck, I've been asked to write more common ships (usually in this rude offtopic way: No, I probably won't write your Cleons or Chriskers unless you venmo me a 'I might think about it' fee - again, I only write for free what I enjoy writing about). Every time this happens, I search the pair requested in question up. I see the sheer hundreds if not thousands of fics for them and ask WHY? You are so well fed? My writing style might not even fit them >.> (thou, I'd be more flattered if that was the angle requests were coming from). This also made me realize I prefer writing pairs that barely have a page of works to their name.

I also think to me it's the 'difficulty spike' in writing a pair that draws me in. Like for example Valenfield*. It's baby's first gateway ship for a reason - they are always in someway together canonically with a pre build professional relationship, have extensive history together, they are simply comfy to pair. Thing is, they have to me so much canonical history it's like 'what could I personally even add that canon didn't already?' I'd feel boxed in cause as much as I'm team 'write whatever you want forever' I personally try to semi stay/dance around within the canon box before I diverge AU nasty style. And Jill and Chris have so many fics already that'd I'd be adding a drop in the available fic bucket; both in the permutation of character interpretations and odds are my added story wouldn't even bring anything new to the table. They are simply Too Easy for me and just don't bring anything new to mind that I could write about. But that also brings up that I simply like creative freedom. I like the generalized canon but not liking that a pair already has an established dynamic/story in canon. Yes, I know you could just...not consider it but I just don't want to rebuild over a thing that is serviceable, I want to build what wasn't there in the first place. Your Valendfields, your Aeons ect kinda has that set up already and I hate having things 'given' to me. If I wanna do a whatif then I will DO a WHATIF. And the fun in doing a whatif is the difficulty. The lack of setup. Like there is NOTHING supporting Nemmy and Jill together. Fucking nothing. Just big baddie mon and soldier fighting. That absolute nothing would scare people away; I see free real estate to get creative and build housing on. Because there is nothing I am able to go hog wild and *make* something. Something that other people are not likely to also come up with (or not in the same way). I can break with established norm and feel like I'm treading new ground. This extended to humans - why not have Ada interact with Carlos? They both operate 'under the table', with one affable with a bit of a scruffy boy outlook despite his history as a merc and the other being a cool and coy spy and not giving out info unless they have to with both being playfully flirty? Who despite both being in the same city never meet? Why not? The canon certainly didn't think they should meet on screen but I did! And sometimes, I break my own rules and think there *is* so much there in the canon imo and not many take it, like Creva. Like, now I'm just doing it cause they deserve more - I've no idea why they are so rare (and no, I don't buy into racism or anything like that as the why I think it's just lack of interest, sadly...and people mayhaps afraid to multiship for some reason?) cause they both are likeable and interesting together. I don't see them as a rare pair yet they are, hmm. *Not to say I don't have them on the future fic docket, shhh

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

vampire eddie knows when your weak human body needs a break in between rounds. He doesn't pull his cock out of you but he shifts you both to a sitting position and lifts a glass of water to your lips (he always makes sure to have plenty of water on hand for your sake) you always feel so pathetic like this but he loves seeing you be so dependent on him

YESSSS THIS THO

i always thought that eddie was the king of aftercare. like this man will get you whatever you need, will check in on you, will cuddle you and kiss you and praise you. you’re going to walk away feeling safe, and loved, and protected, every damn time.

but after he turns into a vampire? his aftercare game is going to go up so hard. his favorite thing to do is make you cockwarm him, especially after you’ve both cum. he always has water on hand, and reaches for it so that you can get a drink. he tells you that you’ve had quite the evening and need to hydrate, smirking as he watches you greedily drink from the glass. he doesn’t thrust into you, instead just allowing your cunt to warm him. he’s so cold now, so feeling how hot your walls feel wrapped around his dick is just pleasure all on its own.

and then he’s going to turn into a smart ass, because it’s eddie and who would he be if not arrogant as hell? asking if you need help moving your hips, because you’re being awfully still. asking if you need him to clean you up, because you’re covered in cum and you’re still a fucking mess. telling you how pretty you look on his dick, and do you need some help speaking, because he doesn’t understand you? thrusting teasingly against your sweet spot before holding your hips down to keep you from moving. gently shushing you when you start to beg.

“patience, y/n,” he whispers, smiling as he holds the water to your lips again. you drink, and he watches with those red-tinted eyes. “that’s my girl. you did so well for me, and you’re still doing so well. wanna stay inside of you all night, even while i’m taking care of you.”

and the fact of the matter is, that’s pretty much how it goes. he pulls out long enough to draw you a bath, and then he’s inside of you again while you sit in it. you cockwarm him as he washes you, from head to toe, his fangs scraping your skin every so often to tease you. whispering sweet little praises and cute little words into your ear, murmuring that you’re taking his cock so fucking well and that you’re being such a good girl for him. how he’s going to take such good care of you, and how you’re always going to be safe with him.

and despite the fact that he sometimes says he’s a monster, you truly have never felt safer than with him.

[shorkbrian]

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex, 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes -  got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you. 

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.  

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different. 

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap. 

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.