#spooky rainbow

[measuredandslow]

I am so incredibly obsessed with this I cannot even describe it 🥳

[daily-spooky]

Rainbows mixed with black goth aesthetic goes crazy hard

[whydoihavetoart]

girls night

[godihatethiswebsite]

18+ – The 141 take bets on No Nut November

CW: alcohol, breeding kink, cam girl, edging, slight Ghoap

Frothy pints drip condensation onto tacky laminate in the back corner of the local pub. Four men glance around at their companions with self assured smirks, so sure it’s them going home with the generous wad of cash piled high in the middle of the table.

Only one of them is right.

John 'breeding kink' Price is the first to lose No Nut November, rutting into the pillow wedged beneath his hips less than a week in with a feral primality driven towards a singular instinctual purpose. Desperate grunts and growls muffled by soft plaid sheets mimic tender flesh trapped between drooling canines. All those years of self-discipline don't mean shit once he eyes a pretty young thing wobbling down the aisles of the shop with a basket full of formula and a ripe round belly – swollen, heavy, fixed to pop. Fertile.

Simon is the next to drop outta the race, earbuds keeping the siren songbird all to himself in the paper thin confines of his rustling tent; the shy dove with her dark flushed cheeks and whimpering mewls who posts on Thursday nights to get herself through university making his rifle-calloused palm keep pace with the sparkly battery-powered rabbit lewdly shlicking between her folds, the 'top donator' headline flashing victorious on his screen keeping her chanting his name with each shuddering orgasm. 

Kyle nearly makes it the whole month – stupidly proud of himself for it too. Stumbling out of the barracks last year at 3am wearing the evidence of the vampire he'd brought back from the bar (watch still stuck on Bogota time) having cut his chances off real quick. This year is gonna be different. Pure determination; a marksman’s precision. No more slip-ups. Too bad his cousin's stag night rolls around three days before December, the charming temptress spinning her seductive web in neon stilettos leading his intoxicated form behind a beaded gossamer curtain, a couple hundred poorer and his heartbeat in his pants.

Fast forward to the back of the pub.

A pair of twinned groans concede defeat to the youngest sergeant, muttered insults barked without bite into the dark malty liquid of their drinks with half hearted regrets at being bested. Yet while the other two may relent in their failed endeavors, the chastised clicking of a tongue stops Kyle’s outstretched hand from collecting his winnings.

Stunned eyes shoot towards the uncharacteristically chatterless Scotsman across the table. After all, no one ever suspects Johnny. Why would they? Big dumb mutt always flapping his gob, chasing after anything on two legs that’ll give him the time of day. The least serious member of the unit with a nose for mischief and a taste for easy women. Poor pup just can’t help it if he has trouble keeping his leaky red rocket to himself. There’s no point in even entertaining the idea really.

But that’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? Ever since basic – when he was just some punk kid from the outskirts of Glasgow spouting too many words with too much nonchalance. Mentally writing him off as anything but the squadron’s class clown. Counting him out before he’s even had a chance to tap in. 

They forget he’s one of them sometimes; honed, sharpened, regimented to perfection. A sniper’s focus mixed with advanced pyrotechnic chemistry. Analytical interest bottled in an understimulated mind. There’s a stubbornness in his veins that begs for a challenge – that thrives in the environment of other people’s miscalculations. 

Think he can’t do it? Watch him surpass expectations. Tell him not to cum for a month? Fucking bet. Thanks for the hefty sum sitting fat in his wallet. Tough luck boys. Next round’s on me.

Besides, it’s not like the other members know about the long nights spent with his head tipped back against the headboard fisting his angry red cock, edging himself for glorious hour after hour to relieve the stress of a hard fought mission. 

Well, except Simon that is…

Masterlist

[reallesbiancorn]

Why don't ghosts ever possess cool dolls like Bratz or Monster High?

[redactedhaunt]

rainbow bite 🌈🦇 and reanimator sciset 💚💉 for halloween spooky season!

[jakeromanoart]

ALLEY ALLIANCE 🐈 this year’s halloween collab with @comicspasta (her lines my color) ✨ available as a print here this will be the 6th jake/pasta halloween collab ⚡ first one was back in 2019 before we were dating and this year we got married 💗

"your jacket is worn ragged from years of keeping you safe, and all the souvenirs you can’t seem to let go of are weighing you down. dirty puddles collect on the asphalt of the alley, reflecting red-tinged moonlight. it’s hard to find a living creature out of doors these days. it’s even harder to find a friend. Maybe that’s why, when the three-eyed alley cat paused to look your way, you held its gaze. maybe that’s why when it moved on, you followed. maybe that’s why you ignored the warnings. maybe it’s the best choice you’ll ever make."

[acquired-stardust]

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night Playstation 1997

[teashopcrafts]

The Colorful Spirit Board Collection is growing! For all the whimsical spooky people out there.

Rainbow, 80s Cyberspace, and Notebook Doodle make up the list so far, but there are so many more ideas kicking around in my head.

What theme should I do next?

Use code JUSTBECAUSE for 20% off!

Check out the shop: https://teashopcrafts.bigcartel.com/

[kidcorebuggy]

Happy Halloween 🎃👻

[sugarpopparty]

(Dark) Moon Prism Power! 🖤🌙

[measuredandslow]

I am. So fucking hyped for these omg. The skull one cannot handle turbo mode and also I think I want the middle to be bigger BUT the CAULDRON. Y’ALL THE CAULDRON. I’m gonna be a stitch witch for real lol

[blush-daisy]

Halloween earrings this year🔮

[bunny-bun-draws]

May-June Commissions ✨

Commissions done on June and part of May! Thanks as always for the support! Hope you all like them~

Credits:

@tothefairest-blog (Chibis 1, chibis 1 with extras)

juliokahverengi2 (Instagram) (Chibi style 1)

c4detzx (Instagram) (Chibi style 1)

Sheri (Chibi style 1)

Gothic (Chibi style 1)

pulseswarm (Instagram) (Chibi style 1)

@lillystarreds (Chibi sketch, Pride chibis, half boddies full color with background)

@ludwigbeilschmidts (Chibi sketch, Pride chibi)

@cupcakes-and-british-tea (Chibis sketch, Pride chibi)

SweetPayaso (Chibis style 1, chibi heads)

@elysianbells (Chibis style 2)

@samrut (Pride chibis)

@shu-dzhoker (Instagram) (Pride chibi)

[godihatethiswebsite]

Simon Riley x reader - Hot Cocoa

CW: childhood abuse, implied alcohol and drug usage, angst/comfort

You didn’t know it at the time, but it was more than just a cup of hot cocoa.

Soft hands–so unlike his mothers–never having been braced against the impact of another’s cruelty, yet clutching his with the same maternal insistence as you slip the steaming mug of sweetness between the gnarled, calloused proof of his misfortunate life. 

There is no preamble of cracked leather; no metal branded welts to be found from a diseased monstrosity who does not care if they are hidden. Simon’s knuckles are intact, not bruised nor split against his sperm donor’s chin. Sentinel instincts are rendered obsolete without the triggering sniffles of his traumatized sibling. No need to keep playing the brave little soldier – the screams of nearby children are not born from brutality.

Doe eyes gaze up at him with an exuberant sparkle, no glassy haze plying you into absent submission. Water molecules of heated breath turning crystalline vapor in the frosty night air hold no trace of ABV – no lingering aroma of whiskey sorrow. The tremble in your bones is from a lack of knitted mittens, not survival induced adrenaline spikes. Frozen fractals catch in silken strands kept immaculate and washed, a polished sheen so unlike her familiar limp straw, reflecting the untarnished soul within he’s done his best to keep pure.

The failure of his mother’s visage haunts his waking past, but the dying warmth of her love renews in an unexpected presence.

He never told you of the act – the ritual of younger nights in a bygone civil hellscape. When the door had finished rattling on rust weathered hinges and the taillights of abuse were all but distant fireflies. When his brother crawled out from his false sanctuary of childhood innocence, having braved the monsters beneath the bed rather than the one he still called ‘papa’. When the woman who should’ve loved them better remembered who she was, the pain of mottled flesh replacing the lucidity of the mind. When he saw his mother for who she was: a woman worn down by sadistic malice. Who was just as much a victim with the scars left on her skin, the pockmarks on her elbows forced there by a stronger hand, the blonde hairs scattered and bloody pulled like cobwebs from her scalp.

Red rimmed eyes spoke wordless apologies for the naivety of her past; for the regrets of choosing wrong the father of her children, the life she wished she had the chance to go back and undo. 

A dead end promise to fix the mistakes of their future – someday.

He clung to the cheap disposable cardboard like the memory of crawling into a threadbare twin, shadows kept at bay with the weak glow from Tommy’s nightlight. The kettle whistled as the pair of them settled, packaged powder dumped into chipped ceramic and brought to them with a shaky smile. He would never voice aloud his own preference for less marshmallows, to give force to the cracks already shattering her resolve. If not for her sake than for his brother’s. 

The expression on your face brings him back from gloomier times, wrapped up in festive cheer all windswept and frost bitten, a backlight of radiance from the bustling market stand you purchased the beverages from. He watches as overeagerness singes your tongue, the small yelp of complaint soothed by a mouthful of whipped cream, the pain doing nothing to retract from the unbridled joy you feel in this simple cherished moment.

You. 

A gift–he knows–sent from heaven by the broken woman he forgave so very long ago. Her promise to him taken physical form.

It’s so much more than just a cup of hot cocoa.

It’s healing.

Masterlist

[stimboard-radio]

Kevin (Spooky Month) stimboard

✭ with candy stims

✫ RQ'd by @candyclazzyashton !

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