#the notes I took XDD

[countlessrealities]

Send a 💋 for a short drabble on a time our muses kissed || Selectively accepting !

@mcltiples sent: 💋 { To Evil Rick from My Weird Rick ! }

There were many things Rick didn't understand of the shows his partner had him sitting through whenever he didn't feel like watching them on his own. Almost everything relating to relationships, romantic ones especially, puzzled him, because he could never relate to the dynamics. No matter how much researching he did, no matter how deeply he dissected them. They never fully made sense.

And, as a consequence, copying the motions felt unpleasantly unnatural to him.

Yet, that hadn't stopped him from trying over and over. The moment he had understood how much his alternate enjoyed that nonsense, he had directed a decent amount of time and effort in providing the other with at least some of it. At times, forcing himself wasn't easy because of how tedious or foolish it all was in his eyes, but he had quickly come up with a way to make it all less obnoxious for him: he had started to put his own spin in the scenarios, adding the sort of flavour he could enjoy despite the absurdity of the situation.

Of course, seeing that his partner enjoyed his adaptation had spurred him on getting creative with them.

Lately, he had noticed one particular recurring scene in many of the movies his alternate so assiduously consumed. Yet another thing that made no sense to Rick, but that seemed worth the trouble...if done how he was picturing it. Besides, there was a new prototype of nano-explosive he wanted to test.

It was the perfect chance to catch two birds with one stone.

The plan was easily set in motion while his partner was occupied in another room of the bunker, busy enough for Rick to be sure that he wouldn't come out before he was done.

The text subject he had procused for that particular occasion was appropriate for what he had in mind: an alien belonging to a species whose members were mostly made of fluids and gelatinous tissues.

Strapping it on the ceiling after having paralysed it so that it wouldn't make a sound was easy. Calculating the right amount of explosive to inject inside it, instead, was a little trickier and Rick checked his calculations thrice before proceeding. The smallest mistake could have ruined the whole set-up.

When his alternate joined him, just as he knew the other would have, everything was ready. Rick had come to stand underneath his chosen guinea pig and, once his partner was within arm's reach, he didn't hesitate a split second to grab him by the front of his jacket and yank him forward.

His other hand hit the button of the small remote control he was holding and the moment thick blood and cold pieces of organic matter started to rain down on them, he pulled the other into a kiss.

The gesture was as sloppy as the mess the exploding creature had made, with all too much biting and too little kissing, the taste of his alternate's blood mixing with the alien fluids on his tongue. His grip on the other's clothes was too tight, forcing them too stiffly close for them to achieve the right angle, but that didn't stop him from holding them there until the last drop had fallen.

By the end of it, they were both soaked from head to toes in blood and gore, which was the result Rick had been aiming to achieve. After all, the characters in the movies always got soggy wet during those scenes, so he had assumed that this was how it was supposed to go.

"K-Kiss in the rain," he announced taking a step back, in a flat tone that certainly didn't convey the right sort of sentiment. "C-Carry on."

And with that, he turned on his heels and headed back to the workbench were a bunch of unfinished toxins were waiting for him. One task achieved, onto the next.

[factual-fantasy]

!!PLEASE READ END MESSAGE BEFORE REBLOGGING!!

So guess who got a big break from their projects and was also informed about Clowns boundaries? <XD Me!!

I was super cautious to draw fanart of these characters at first.. But after getting some informative comments (thank you guys!) and thinking it though.. I don't think any of my artwork would cross a line. So here I am! And BOY do I have a lot of experimenting to do on these partial redesigns.

I'm sure you've noticed Sally is bright blue and very spikey. I was going for a young blue star look, but now that I'm looking at it.. ehh,, blue might not be her color, idk. Also her cool glow effect took so long to draw that I only drew it on 1 canvas. So definitely gotta think of a better way to draw her glow.. Barnaby needs some work too. I don't like how his fur patches came out. They look spray painted on.. Also Frank's vest and Sally's sweater took AGES to draw. I either need to find a faster way to draw them or just redesign them all together. Same with Poppys feathers, they took forever to color-- aaaa

ANYWAY, you guys get the point XDD First time drawing these guys to the fullest and my interpretations need some work. But I hope you like these drawings none the less!

Also important note!!

To avoid any potential drama or uncomfy stuff, please only tag this post as the individual characters, and "Welcome home arg" No other tags of any kind. No ships, canon or not- No exceptions. Just avoid any and all potential problems by tagging simply. Individual characters and the series name. This would be very much appreciated and would encourage me to come back and draw more Welcome Home stuff. Thanks you guys! <:)

[popopretty]

BSD Chapter 108

In the narrow room - Part 4

Finally a longer chapter, and it was such a roller coaster!!! Now I don't know what is true anymore and I can't wait to see what will happen next.

Please note that neither my English nor Japanese is perfect. Please let me know if you find any mistake!

SPOILERS AHEAD

Sigma shows the piece of paper he picked up earler (that has the word "Help!" written in Russian) to Fyodor and asks him if he is the one who wrote it. Upon seeing the piece of paper, Fyodor has a breakdown. He starts screaming and keeps saying "Help me! Help me" in Russian. When he finally calms down, his experession changes and he looks like another person. He asks Sigma what year it is.

Atsushi is fighting Akutagawa. He keeps calling to Akutagawa, saying that he knows Akutagawa is still there. Because he didn't kill Aya, and Atsushi knows that it is because of their promise. He tells Akutagawa that the 6-month limit has not been over yet so it is not yet time for them to fight each other. Akutagawa doesn't seem to listen and keep fighting him, forcing Atsushi to launch a counter attack. But when he is about to his Akutagawa's face, he stops himself because he thinks he is gonna kill Aku with the tiger strength if he is not protected by Rashomon. Akutagawa takes the chance and catches Atsushi by his arm and leg by rashomon.

Atsushi shouts to Akutagawa to wake up, reminding him that he wants to become stronger. He says that the real strength is not when you compare it with each other, but it is the strength to face with your own self, and that is the "real strength" that Dazai is looking for. Upon hearing that, Akutagawa has some reaction, and Atsushi thought it has worked. However, Akutagawa goes a head and rips Atsushi's arm and leg off. (Bram is seen watching that while saying 'He is not that naive')

Back to Sigma and Fyodor, the "new" Fyodor tells Sigma that the Fyodor that Sigma knows is the bad guy, and that he can not stop "him". But he can see hope in Sigma so he takes out a knife and asks Sigma to take it. He says it is the "Sword Kladenets", and it may look like a normal dagger, but it is similar to the holy swords and is the only thing that can kill "the one that is his ability". He holds it out to Sigma while saying sorry because the bad Fyodor is the one born out of his weakenesses, and that he has let his own abiliity take over him.

Sigma lowers the knife bun and reaches out to take the dagger, but when he gets closer, Fyodor turns back and stab him with the same knife, saying 'Just kidding'. Fyodor then tells Sigma that it is just an act to get Sigma to lower the knife. And that multi personality act is so cliche, but it can make people lower their guard, and that the dagger is no more than a normal life he took from the guard.

Fyodor asks Sigma if it is painful. Because if he becomes an agency member, that pain will keep coming to him as the agency is Fyodor's enemy. He then asks Sigma if he still wants to become a member of ADA despite all of that. Sigma tries to get his gun back but his move is all read by Fyodor. Fyodor then tells Sigma that now that he knows how determined Sigma is, he will let Sigma touch him and read whatever he wants to read, if Sigma has that courage to do so.

Fukuchi is on the call with the Secretary in the government, who has no option now but to tell him how to unlock One Order. The Secretary questions Fukuchi about his action, and tells Fukuchi that he will have to throw away all the Fukuchi fan merchs he has at home now (TN: Sorry it is so funny I have to include it xDD). Fukuchi tells him to just do that and finally opens One Order.

Aya and Bram sees a bright light from the tower when One Order is unlocked and Bram says there is just secondds until the world burns.

That's all for this month's chapter! The next one will be released on August 4 (Japan time).

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter just like I do.

[topmalereaderblog]

I'm not 100% percent sure if this request follows the rules so lemme know. but could you do a bottom male reader TOPPING miguel o'hara for the first time? like he isn't a dom by any means so Miguel has to guide and tell him what he wants him to do. and the reader's probably nervous because he doesn't want to break Miguel's ass xDD

Miguel O'Hara // Mature Thoughts⚠️

Imagine: First times are always weird, but they do hold a lot of passion, and it's no different for Miguel and you.

"Okay, mi amor carful," Miguel said, trying to help you as much as possible. It was gonna be your first time topping, and you were by far the clueless person when it came to this.

"I am. I'm trying to make sure I don't hurt you."

"You're not gonna hurt me, mi vida. I'm a Spiderman, too, just take it easy and relax."

"Okay, now let's start small prepping. Get the lube and stretch me out slowly," Miguel could see your hesitation, but you listened to him regardless you trusted him. He felt your fingers circling his hairy hairy hole and push in "mierda~."

Miguel said with gritted teeth as his head fell back against. You could feel him clench around your finger he was warm you and you were starting to get excited. You moved your fingers, trying to pick up a pace.

Miguel moved his hips, trying to match your fingers stretching and thrusting inside him.

"Okay, love, I'm ready," Miguel was breathing heavily as you took out your fingers front him. You carrful lined your cock with his hole and pushed in. You moaned at the tightness and gripped onto Miguel as you bottom out inside your hairy balls, resting in his hairy ass.

"That's it, love estás asiendo un buen trabajo solo relájate," you could feel him move his hand across your back you nordeste and pulled out slowly you thrusted inside him with a little bit of force.

"That's it baby just like that," Miguel said closing his eyes your.

So, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your moans bounced off the walls as the pace you set was brutal. You couldn't help it the way Miguel warm walls stretched around you was pleasurable.

"C'mon estoy cerca mi amor más profavor don't stop," you could feel Miguel's hairy legs wrap around your hips pulling you closer.

"Miguel necesito- need to-," you felt your lips smash against Miguel. He could feel your groans as he kissed you.

"Inside baby cum inside me but not yet I'm so close Okay can you do that for me," Miguel asked pulling away from your lips he saw you nod as you pulled him in another kiss this time more desperate and filled with need.

"That's it, c'mon, so close, baby fucking hell~," Miguel came his warm walls tightening around your length triggering your owns orgasm. It felt too much that you continued to thrust through your orgasm feeling overly sensitive.

As both your orgasm came to and end, you looked at each other, trying to catch your breaths. You felt his hand on your cheek soothing you "you did good amor."

You didn't have energy much to talk opting to lay your head down on his hairy pecs nodding in agreement. "I wanna try again b- but later."

"Okay, baby, rest." And with that, you did you didn't even notice you were still buried inside Miguel feeling too sensitive to pull out. After a while, you both feel asleep, your bodies recovering for the next round.

Authors note: thank you for requesting you were right it doesn't follow the rules but I saw this more as a mature thought so I allowed it.

[cyber-dump-171]

Chapter 1: Roadside Help

The End is Near (Gravity Falls x Reader)

← Prologue | Masterlist | Chapter 2 →

Word count: 6.9k.

WARNING: mentions of violence, nausea, blood, injuries, weapon and gun usage, a monster, and body horror.

Note: thank you for the likes and reblogs! Btw, this is the first time I write a character with a country accent, I apologize if it's horrible xdd

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‘Good evening, folks! Or is it morning? Well, either way, fantabulous of you to tune in at The New Wave Network, where we’re grooving no matter the time of day! It’s the 2nd of October and the clock strikes at 1:15 a.m. Hoo boy! We’re just a few weeks away from Halloween, so, let’s set the mood with Shadowplay’s new wicked song “The Graveyard Shift”. Have a listen, folks!’

As you step on the accelerator, pine and cedar trees zoom past your window and the outside world becomes a blur. You've been surrounded by greenery and nature for two hours now, and while it's been a pleasant sight at first, you're quickly becoming concerned as the scenery repeats itself. Your destination seems completely unreachable, almost non-existent.

When you woke up two days ago, you didn't expect to uproot your entire life and move halfway across the country for your job. It started when you arrived at the precinct that morning; a week earlier, rumors of a possible promotion in your unit had spread like wildfire, leaving your colleagues and friends suddenly on top of their game.

For example, Craig, who always had food stains on his shirt and an unshaven face, wore immaculate button-downs and slicked-back hair. Jack, who had always flipped the bird at your boss whenever the old man wanted something, now happily made his coffee and showered him with sickly sweet compliments.

You, on the other hand, were content with your position as a forensic scientist. That's not to say that the possibility of a better salary and even having your own office away from the row of wall-to-wall cubicles wasn't tempting, but you weren't exactly desperate for a change within the precinct. You were planning on moving sometime soon.

But that thought flew out the window as your boss immediately dragged you into his office and offered you the opportunity. But what the rumors didn't tell you was that it wasn't a promotion... you were being transferred to another precinct to fill an empty position and it offered better benefits, like a new house and a higher salary... though it was in the middle of nowhere.

It was a tempting offer, and you almost gave in when you were shown a picture of the beautiful house. But something kept nagging at you: the town. Gravity Falls? Never heard of it. Sure, you don't know every single place in the United States, but something about it told you to not take that chance.

When asked why you were chosen, your boss simply replied: “You’re the perfect candidate for this.” He didn't let you probe further into his answer but fervently insisted on hearing your verdict. He almost checked the "yes" box on the form until you physically stopped him.

“I’ll think about it,” that didn’t last long, because as soon as you exited the office and made a beeline to your cubicle, you ran into Jackson Murdock, an asshole who thought he was more important than the moon and who worriedly took far too much pleasure in pestering you, leaning against your desk and sneering that he would love to take said “opportunity”. 

So, without a moment’s thought, you turned right back around and shook your boss's clammy, wrinkled hand. His smile was rather off-putting as he handed you the paperwork.

And that's how you found yourself here, your entire life packed into a myriad of cardboard boxes shoved into your car as you drive through a darkly lit, foggy forest. You were supposed to arrive five hours earlier but ended up getting stuck in traffic due to a massive accident. 

The soft rock tune from the radio fills the quiet space as you tighten your grip on the steering wheel, desperate to stretch your legs. “Fucking hell, where are you, Gravity Falls?” as if on cue to your annoyed tone, you finally drive past a massive weathered billboard with the town's name accompanied by a: ‘Nothing to see here!’. 

“Finally,” you murmur in relief as exhaustion tugs at your eyes, the coffee from earlier did nothing to keep the sluggishness at bay. You lean forward, eyes squinting as your foot deftly shifts to gently press against the brakes, slowly decreasing the car's speed. The last thing you want right now is to miss a possible exit into town and end up deeper in the woods.

Speaking of which, you knew that Oregon was famous for its breathtaking scenery and gorgeous natural landscapes, but where the hell were you driving? Outside your window, the forest looked like something straight out of those recently popular horror movies that everyone in the precinct was talking about.

Tall, monster-like trees stretched far into the sky, their dense foliage and branches so intertwined that it was almost impossible for any of the moon's rays to penetrate through and illuminate the dirt road. Past the bare nature that forms a pathway, there is nothing to see, not even other trees, rocks, or signs of wildlife. It's completely pitch dark and dead.

Your stomach is in knots, perhaps from the lack of food or the scenery outside. Whatever it is, you need to get through this as soon as possible, because you're exhausted, and the less you're near this road, the better. You crank up the heat a little more and take a sip of the now-cold coffee that sits on the cup holder, as the engine of your car hums quietly climbing over a dirt hill, its dim headlights breaking through the thick fog.

But before you get very far, you come across a peculiar sight. Down the small hill, parked on the right between some large rocks, is an old, somewhat battered red pickup truck. Exaggerated clouds of thick smoke billow from the raised hood, and through your window you notice a pair of hands clutching some tools in a desperate attempt to repair the car.

Curious, you approach the vehicle and catch a glimpse of what you assume to be its owner, blowing away the gray clouds while coughing furiously, his small round glasses barely hanging from the tip of his nose and his green patterned shirt stained with grime. Your headlights cast a shadow on the car, and when the man hears the sound of your car’s engine, he lifts his head excitedly, but accidentally smacks his forehead against the hood.

You cringe at the image and watch as the poor man stumbles away from the truck, holding his head in pain as he almost falls to his knees. You feel sorry for the guy, not only did his car break down in the most eerie place possible, but it also happened in the middle of the night. Still, you remain cautious, silently reaching for the police-issued Taser tucked in the left pocket of your coat, which is haphazardly lying on the passenger seat on top of your purse.

Even though the man looks scrawny, and you assume that if he were to throw a punch it would only leave a nasty bruise, you can't help but think that he might want to inflict some harm on you. You've read countless files, back in the archival rooms of your old precinct, of victims who kindly stop to aid others only to be robbed or even murdered in return. 

Dazed, the man looks up in the distance at your car, and his eyes light up in pure relief at the sight but are quickly replaced with desperation as he furiously wails his arms around, silently begging you to stop. Meanwhile, you maneuver the vehicle to the side of the dirt road, harshly pulling on the hand brake as you swiftly attach the taser’s holster to your belt before quickly lowering your sweater to cover it. 

Cold, harsh air bites at your warm skin as you lower your window, making sure to keep your feet near the accelerator and your left hand on the hand brake to book it as soon as this man tries to do anything remotely suspicious. Soon, two shivering hands cling to your windowsill and you’re finally able to get a better look. You noticed that he clumsily cleaned his face and glasses using his sleeve. ‘He’s rather cute.’ 

“Yer a lifesaver! I’ve been sittin’ here for what feels like a whole eternity!” he exclaims in a thick country accent, giving you a closed-eyed smile as he shivers from the freezing wind. You make a small note of his fast speech and silently wonder if it’s the temperature or an underlying anxious habit. 

“No problem, what can I do to help?” you don't mean for your voice to sound so monotonous, but you're exhausted from the long drive and the eerie atmosphere isn't helping. The man removes his hands from your car, opting to shove them into his pants pockets as a puff of condensed breath escapes from his mouth, his back hunched at an awkward angle. “Do ya happen to have a lantern or somethin’ to light up this here mess? I just wanna see how bad this damage is.”

You decide not to blurt out that his car might be beyond repair, as you swear the thing will burst into flames in a matter of minutes. Instead, you wordlessly reach for the open cardboard box on the floor of the passenger seat, silently thanking yourself for putting your work stuff in the front, as you quickly find the lantern and hand it to him. “Careful, it’s an industrial flashlight so it might be a bit heavy.”

The man beams at your actions, his cold fingers gently brushing against yours as he takes the lantern from your grasp. “Thanks a bunch! Could ya give me a hand here and hold this light for me?” he asks rather cheerfully as you mull over your answer. Well, the faster he gets his car fixed the sooner you’ll be able to get home and sleep. 

After a few seconds of silence, you wordlessly nod before rolling up the window to preserve the little heat left inside and then turning the key on its side, your car ceasing its small vibrations as the motor shuts down. You don’t waste any more time as you grab your coat and kick the door open, immediately slipping on the warm attire as your teeth slightly chatter. ‘Fucking wind, why is it so cold? It’s not even winter, yet.’

The man has already made his way back to the pickup, and your tired eyes notice that the amount of smoke coming from under the hood has, thankfully, decreased. Taking wide strides, the dry leaves crunch underneath your boots as you quickly approach the man and gingerly slide your hand out of your pocket, your index pointing to the flashlight. 

He perks up at your presence, but when his gaze lands on your face, you notice in the dim light that a small blush adorns his pale cheeks.

He stares at you for a few seconds with a dumbfounded expression, and it's only when you clear your throat and jab your finger forward that he seems to snap out of it, clumsily handing you the lantern as he focuses on the car's motor. A rather awkward silence ensues as you simply shine the light on the battered machine and he quietly tinkers with it. You should ask him his name.

“So, what are you doing out here at such an hour?” you ask, holding back a yawn. The man doesn't look up from his work, but you notice a small, rather endearing smile on his lips. “Oh! Well, my college buddy moved out here about a month ago and was lookin' for a research partner. Asked if I'd help him out and here I am!” he remembers enthusiastically as he looks at you for a moment, quietly inquiring about your reasons for being here.

“I’m the new Chief of Police in Gravity Falls,” if he was about to try something, then perhaps mentioning your work would dissuade him from that thought. Instead, however, his eyes twinkle with what you assume is excitement as he gives you a broad smile. What a bizarre man. “Well, I reckon we'll be seein' each other a whole lot!”

Suddenly, as if processing his words, he pales at the implications of his sentence and stares at you, eyes wide. “N-Not like that! I’m a law abidin’ citizen, I-I swear! We ain’t doin’ anythin’ illegal!” his panicked reaction gets you to laugh out loud, the light slightly shaking in your grasp. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I get what you were trying to say,” as the laughter dies down, the two of you fall back into silence, but this time it is more comfortable.

Unfortunately, it doesn't take long for the man to let out a frustrated sigh as he runs a dirty hand through his caramel blond hair. “Darn it… radiator’s busted,” he mutters under his breath. He won't be able to start the truck tonight; he'll have to look for a spare part. But your conscience won’t allow you to leave him here, especially when you feel as if something might jump out of the bushes and attack you.

Yes, the forest is creepy, but you doubt it is plagued by cryptids. At most, some predators are lurking around.

You lean over to take a look at what's in his truck; there aren't many boxes or luggage stuffed in the back seats, and it seems like everything fits perfectly inside your car. “Hey, how far’s your friend’s house? I’ll take you there,” he perks up, a hopeful expression washing away the worries and stress of the broken car. “Really!? Oh, bless your soul! It should be ‘bout ten minutes from here.”

The man scurries off to put his tools away and pushes the hood shut before getting his luggage out. Meanwhile, you leave the right-hand door of the back seat open as you start to take some things from his hands, wanting to hurry the process as the cold has now seeped into your bones and you can't stop shivering. You think the cold will kill you before any imaginary monster can.

Soon, the man's truck is empty and locked, but just as you're about to climb into the driver's seat, he lets out a small gasp and rubs his hands roughly against his trousers before extending one to you with a polite smile. “My mama would give me a piece of her mind for bein’ so poorly mannered. I'm Fiddleford H. McGucket, pleased to meet ya.”

You return the greeting firmly, noting that his hand is calloused and freezing, as you reply curtly with your name. Fiddleford repeats it under his breath, testing to feel how it rolls off his tongue, but a strong gust of wind causes you both to rapidly let go of each other's hands as you hurry to get into your car.

You waste no time turning on the heater, both of you breathing a sigh of relief as the warmth relaxes your muscles and soothes your frozen skin. Soon the wheels are turning and the sight of Fiddleford's truck grows smaller and smaller as you make your way along the foggy road.

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The ride is peaceful as Fiddleford leads the conversation, telling you a few facts about himself before turning his attention to you, his dark eyes full of curiosity. You cringe a little, not meaning for your voice to be so flat and your responses to be curt, but you're still getting used to socializing and you're tired. You also don’t understand what’s so interesting about yourself. 

But Fiddleford doesn't seem to mind, enjoying the brief silences and conversations he has with you as he stares out the window. You also finally start to see some signs of civilization in the form of crude wooden signs haphazardly nailed into the trunks of trees, indicating how far the town is. After a few bumps in the road, Fiddleford pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolds it.

“Ok… so, when ya see that sign sayin’ we’re three kilometers from the entrance to Gravity Falls, turn left,” from your peripheral vision, you watch as he extends a finger and motions to the side. “Your friend lives quite far away from town,” as the words leave your mouth, you’re made painfully aware of the taser still strapped to your belt. You hope that Fiddleford didn’t trick you… you were starting to like him.

Thankfully, your comment seems to resonate with him as he turns to look at you with an excited expression. “Right!? Told’im the same thing! But he said the place was perfect ‘cause there’s a ‘large concentration of specimens’ or somethin’ like that. Gosh, what a pain s’going to be to go to the market every week,” you can help but quietly chuckle as he huffs in frustration, relief coursing through your body.

Soon the two of you return to your normal routine, and before you know it, you're turning your blinker on and maneuvering the steering wheel as the car begins to enter the man-made driveway. A few meters ahead, you see a bizarre A-shaped house with the lights on, and Fiddleford exclaims happily, "That's the house!" 

But just as you're about to step on the gas to start driving up the hill, a figure suddenly dashes out of the trees and you instantly hit the brakes, stopping the car just in time to avoid hitting the person standing a few inches from the hood. You and Fiddleford lurch forward as you gasp in shock, staring with wide eyes and fast-beating hearts at the scene ahead of you. 

You grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you hold your breath from the momentary fear that quickly turns to worry. In front of you, a young boy, no more than 16 years old, stares blankly at the window like a deer caught in the headlights. His face is deathly pale, his cheeks sunken as his chest rises and falls at an increasingly rapid pace, puffs of white steam quickly condensing against the cold air. It’s almost invisible, but you notice he’s trembling either from the cold or fear.

But what makes your stomach fall is the state he’s in. Three long cuts decorate the lower part of his jaw, the blood around the wound is dried, he has a busted lip and a large bruise surrounds his left eye, you can see that he is having trouble keeping it open, perhaps it is already starting to swell. 

His blond hair is disheveled, mixed with twigs, leaves, and dirt. There are several cuts and other wounds on his neck and near his stomach, his shirt has four large gashes, although he does not appear to be bleeding in that area. But that does not explain the fact that his hands and part of his forearms are covered in dirt, moss, and a combination of fresh and dried blood.

From what you can see, he's wearing pajamas and doesn't appear to be armed or carrying any kind of weapon. Nevertheless, he appears to be in a state of hysteria and shock so any sort of rapid or sudden movement could lead to a violent reaction or you could scare him away. You must approach him with caution.

You get out of the car, taking care to open the door gently but quickly, not hearing Fiddleford's warning to wait. The sound of the door seems to wake the boy from his stupor, and as you expected, his face falls swiftly and he begins to back away, his body shaking uncontrollably. “Please… don’t hurt me,” his voice trembles, filled with panic as his eyes become crystalline, tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just worried, are you okay?” you stay put, making sure your tone is as gentle as possible to not alarm or scare him away. You notice that the atmosphere outside is deadly quiet, you can’t hear the singing of the crickets, much less the howling of the wind. ‘What the hell is going on!?’

“I need to know you’re human,” the boy demands in a shaky tone, having put a good distance between you and him. You raise an eyebrow at his request, but he seems deadly serious as his forehead furrows and his jaw clenches, his fists balling up as if ready to fight if you don't comply. “How do you want me to prove I’m human?”

For some reason, the question seems to put him at ease, as he relaxes his posture though he remains rather hostile. “I… I don’t know but… I-I just don’t know who to trust,” through whispers, tears spill from his eyes as he holds a hand out, terrified. You stand still for a moment, completely confused as to what to do, but it seems the best way to calm him down is to tell him about yourself.

“My name is (Y/N),” you begin and gently close the car door as you take a step forward. The boy perks up, teary eyes staring at you in confusion. You continue, slightly shivering as a gust of wind passes by, yet you don’t hear anything but your voice. “I’m 25. I graduated from Backupsmore as a forensic scientist… um… I hate bees and my favorite color is-”

Before you can finish, the boy suddenly bolts from his spot, his frail arms quickly wrapping around your torso and hugging you as tightly as he can. Unfortunately, due to the force, you come tumbling down, your back harshly scratching against the dirt. You're shocked for a moment, but then you feel his tears rapidly soaking your sweater and his bloody hands tightly clutching the material as he wails loudly, the sound reverberating through the dead ambient.

Somewhat stiffly, your arms embrace the boy, one hand gently rubbing circles on his back, which is shaking as he sobs. His skin is frozen, he's been out for a long time. Fiddleford quickly gets out of the car and crouches down beside you with a worried look on his face, quietly asking you if everything is alright. You just give him a small smile in return, hoping to reassure him.

"M-Miss, please help me, I'm so scared," he mumbles between loud cries, hiding his face in your shoulder. You just nod and guide him through some breathing exercises to help him think more clearly and calm down. When the crying ceases, you take off your jacket and drape it over his shoulders hoping it will warm him up a bit, while Fiddleford gently places a hand on his head.

"Let's start at the beginning, what's your name?" your question in a soft tone. The boy lifts his face from your shoulder and two red-rimmed eyes look at you sadly. "M-My name is L-Lawrence W-Woodworth," he replies scared, the words barely leaving his mouth as he shivers. "Nice to meet you, Lawrence. This is Fiddleford, my friend," the brown-haired man gives the boy a slight smile as he nods.

"You have to tell me what happened, how did you get here?" Lawrence shudders at your words but dryly swallows, as if to gather courage, and begins "W-We were coming back from my house, Dylan, Kyle and I... we were working on a s-school project. And out of nowhere, I don't know what it was, but s-something came out of the trees and..."

His palms harshly wipe away at his eyes, though he winces as he grazes the injured one. Fiddleford silently encourages him to continue as he rubs his shoulders. “I-It ripped Kyle’s s-stomach out… D-Dylan called 911 and t-then in the woods something that looked like Kyle but wasn’t Kyle… it even talked like him… it was just standing t-there and i-it started to chase us… w-we got separated and somehow I ended up here…”

You can't believe what you're hearing. If it weren't for the fact that Lawrence looks completely paralyzed with fear, you'd think this story was taken from a horror book. Could the monster be a product of the possible trauma of seeing his friend badly hurt? Or did they mistake the killer, who was standing at a long distance from them, for a more twisted version of a friend? Those are the only explanations you can currently come up with.

You look up and notice that Fiddleford has a much more serious look on his face, he seems to believe everything the boy says. But before you can question him, a bloodcurdling scream followed by a distorted roar echoes through the forest and Lawrence looks up, what little color he had regained in his face drained away. "DYLAN! OH GOD IT'S DYLAN! I HAVE TO GO GET HIM!"

Lawrence is about to run off into the woods when you grab his wrist to stop him from moving, causing the boy to yelp in pain. "Sorry, but you're not going, you're injured and putting yourself in more danger. Fiddleford, take Lawrence to your friend’s and call the police. I'll look for the other boy," you order firmly, before getting up and going to your car, opening it forcefully and diving between all the boxes.

Behind you, you hear Fiddleford gasp in surprise, his boots breaking several branches as he quickly approaches your figure. “(Y/N), be extremely careful, please. Whatever it is, it's dangerous. Please tell me you're carrying a weapon or somethin’,” the man exclaims worriedly. You quietly nod before you notice a small, thin, black briefcase, unfamiliar to you tucked between some cardboard boxes labeled “kitchen”.

Quickly, you unlock the clasp and open the lid, revealing a Smith & Wesson Model 4506 stored in the middle. Your stomach twists, this would be your first time using this thing. But you swallow that fear, a kid is in danger. Fiddleford gasps as he watches over your shoulder as you quickly load the gun with nine rounds and strap the holster to your belt, right next to the Taser. "Don't worry, it's police-issued, I've got a license and I know how to shoot."

You quickly head over to your driver’s seat, shut the car off, and grab the lantern that you stored in the glovebox. As you turn around, you quickly shove your car keys in Fiddleford’s unexpecting hands and turn over to look at Lawrence, who’s now standing up, still trembling. “What does your friend look like?” you walk over to the car, momentarily covering one of the headlights.

“D-Dylan’s tall, has short curly black hair, dark skin, and glasses. H-He was wearing… I-I think I white T-shirt,” you nod, creating the mental picture of his friends as you begin to sprint over to the forest. “BE CAREFUL,” Fiddleford’s voice filled with concern sounds distant as you book it, the cold wind cutting at your skin.

The forest is deadly quiet, the only sounds you can hear are your rapid breathing and the crunching of dried leaves and twigs as your boots stomp over them. Your stomach curls into a knot and your mouth goes dry as the faster you run, the darker your surroundings seem to get.

"DYLAN!?" your voice echoes through the trees as you flash the light around you. There are only trees, trees, and more trees! They are all starting to look the same. And the fog makes it worse as you can barely see past a few feet in front of you. You exhale exhaustedly, pausing for a moment as you try to regain your sense of direction. Your muscles ache from the sudden movement, you were more used to a life behind a desk than running in the field.

"OVER HERE! PLEASE! HELP ME!" your head whips to the right as you hear the distant screams of a young boy. There was no time to waste, as the force you used to push yourself forward caused the soles of your feet to kick up a patch of dirt and moss. You call his name again, trying to locate him more easily, and he answers, his voice much clearer now. 

Soon you come to a clearing illuminated by the moonlight, and sitting against the trunk of one of the trees, his head tucked between his head and a hand on his left shoulder, is the boy who fits Lawrence's description.

"Dylan? My name is (Y/N), I met your friend, Lawrence, I'm here to take you to safety," you say breathlessly, watching as the boy slowly lifts his head, tears streaming down his face as he quietly holds back a sniffle. "L-Lawrence is okay? H-He's not hurt?" you nod softly and quickly walk over, kneeling in front of him and as you give him a warm smile.

"Yes, he's with my friend now, and help is on the way. Are you hurt?" now that you're closer, you notice that there's a deep cut on his left cheek and that his glasses are nowhere to be found, most likely lost while running through the woods. As you gently encourage him to roll over, Dylan hiccups, having cried the last of his tears, before carefully removing the hand that was holding his shoulder.

Underneath his bloody palm are two deep, heavily bleeding cuts that look very similar to the ones on Lawrence's shirt. Up close, the injury looks unnatural, and you can't put your finger on what could have done this; you assume it could be something like a hook, but the width of the gash is much wider than a butcher's hook or something heavier. "I-It got me when I tripped on a corner. I managed to f-fight it off though," he admits sheepishly, dropping his head back to his knees as he recalls the encounter. So that was the scream.

"You were incredibly brave, don't be ashamed, Dylan," you whisper comfortingly, focusing your attention on treating the wound. Placing the lantern on the ground, you grab the bottom of the sweater with both hands and pull in different directions with enough force that the threads begin to snap. Ripping the fabric until it reaches above your belt, you pull so that it goes around your waist, gathering enough to make a makeshift tourniquet.

Dylan watches quietly as you successfully separate the torn piece from your sweater. "Okay, this is going to hurt, but I'm going to wrap this around your wound, okay?" he nods shakily at your instructions, lowering his knees and stretching his injured arm out to the side. You quietly guide him to take deep breaths as you slip the fabric underneath the armpit and tightly twist and turn the cloth, softly apologizing when he winces or gasps for air.

After a few seconds, you tie a knot with the remaining cloth, successfully stopping the bleeding for the moment. Dylan tests his arms by stretching and moving the limb before standing up and grabbing the lantern left on the grass. "Where did the attacker go?" your eyes scan the area around you, but the overwhelming darkness and fog make it impossible for you to see what is beyond the clearing. The area is so quiet, so devoid of life, that you can hear your heartbeat, which begins to pick up as you hear the crunch of leaves and twigs.

Dylan and you have not moved an inch.

"Mooooooom," a distorted and crooked voice wails sadly from the trees, shaking you to your core. Its pitch goes up and down as it gets closer and closer to where you're standing, calling out in pain, searching for its mother. It doesn't even sound like a human, let alone an animal, it's as if something is painfully trying to imitate human speech.

Then you remember what Lawrence said: something that had the appearance of his friends yet it wasn’t him. There's no way... there's no way that things like that exist… Those are just myths, right? You feel Dylan tense up next to you and the light source emitting from the lantern begins to shake in his grip. The creature is determined to find you, it keeps calling out, and whatever it is, it is big, as the ground beneath it shakes and rumbles slightly whenever it takes a step. 

"When I tell you to run, keep going straight until you find a hut. Don't stop and don't look back," you command in a hushed whisper, feeling your heart pounding loudly against your chest as your nimble fingers quietly unlock the holster and grab the handle of your gun. “O-Ok, please be careful, ma’am,” he replies, holding the lantern tighter.

Soon the footsteps are shaking the pebbles scattered across the ground and the mushrooms growing in the trunks of the nearby trees, and you can feel the vibrations in your ears. Beside you, Dylan slowly begins to back away from the noise, inching closer to where you first entered, while you stare at the source of the sound. "Mooooom... I want my mom," it cries again, this time louder, and you shudder at the disgusting tone in which it speaks.

"I hate it... why does it sound so much like Kyle?" Dylan whispers through clenched teeth, this time further away from you. So you were right, it's trying to imitate human speech, but you wonder why it's calling to its mother. You don't have time to answer as a massive figure begins to break through the mist, and you hold your gun tightly, raising it so that the barrel points straight at what you assume is the creature's head.

But you freeze up as soon as the thing reveals itself. The monster is incredibly tall, it reaches to the middle of one of the pine trees and you estimate it to be about two meters in height. It is dragging its arms on the ground, massive hands with dirty nails pointing up towards its pale and bony palms, and its head is tilted to the side, in a childlike manner. 

Sunken and completely hollow eyes with a single silver dot are staring directly at you, the toothless mouth is open wide, creating an oval shape in which you can’t see anything other than an empty void, while distorted boyish cries are coming from the deepest parts of its throat. 

Worst of all, you finally understand what Lawrence and Dylan were saying. It has copied the appearance of a young ginger boy, but because its body is so large and deformed, it looks as if it has stretched an image of what you assume to be Kyle and plastered it onto its body. 

The skin is ghostly pale and looks pulled and torn, its hair is a mangled mess with various bald spots revealing a fleshy black interior, and its "clothes" look painted over and reveal a thin torso with paper-thin skin that closely exposes a skeleton with way too many bones for you to count. It twitches unnaturally as it just stands there, looking at you while begging for his mother without moving.

You can't begin to comprehend what the hell is in front of you. It doesn't feel real, the lack of sound around you, the intense fog, and the imagery make it feel like you're in a lucid nightmare. But you're brought back to reality when you realize that Dylan is still behind you, crying softly as he stares at the mockery of his friend's image. "Run on the count of three, okay?" you don't take your eyes off the creature.

"One," your body's facing forward, you move your dominant leg a step back, both feet planted firmly on the ground as you aim the barrel to hit right between the monster's eyes. It doesn't move, only keeps twitching and wailing in a deep tone.

"Two," you steady your body and take a deep breath as your finger hugs the trigger. Behind you, Dylan prepares to run. Once he's gone, the moonlight will be your only guide during the fight. Your heart beats faster as you take one last breath...just get this over and you’ll go home…

"THREE!" without wasting a second, you squeeze the trigger and fire, a flash of bright light shooting from the barrel and the bullet lodging deep inside the creature's head. The sound of the gun being fired echoes through the forest and you swear you can hear birds flying from the trees and some of the sound comes back. Dylan has already started to run, straight ahead as you instructed.

The shot sends the monster reeling a few steps back, but in retaliation, it lets out a distorted roar so loud it makes your eyes vibrate with pain. You don't let that deter you, though, as you load the second bullet into the chamber and prepare to fire at the creature's chest, right where you think its heart is. Unfortunately, it recovers rather quickly and stands up shakily before charging at you like a bull, swinging one of its gigantic arms in your direction.

You're able to dodge the attack, but the limb is so heavy that as soon as it hits the ground, the force knocks you to the ground and the weapon almost slips from your grasp. Luckily, you hold on tight, but the creature is relentless, one of its clawed hands grabs your right ankle, its sharp, bone-like claws digging easily into your flesh, tearing some of the skin. You grunt loudly, your teeth clenched as tears sting your eyes, but you aim the gun at the creature's shoulder and fire.

As the bullet connects with the skin, the monster screeches and painfully removes its claws from your ankle, nursing its new injury instead. You back away as fast as you can, grunting in pain and after a considerable distance, you do your best to stand up, limping slightly as you plant your feet firmly on the ground and load another bullet.

And you fire the third one.

And the fourth.

And the fifth.

“Won’t you just die already!?” you scream in frustration, fear and paranoia seeping into your mind as you watch the monster rise from the ground once more, five small holes in different parts of its body spilling a tar-like liquid onto the grass, staining it. It's almost invincible, no matter how many bullets you fire, it seems to do nothing but temporarily stun it and make it scream horribly.

You jump to the side as the monster charges forward again, but it miscalculates and runs straight through the tree instead. The impact is so powerful that it leaves a massive hole in the trunk, but it is temporarily stuck there; as it struggles to free itself, you waste no time finding its ankle and stomping down as hard as you can.

You almost fall forward...you did not expect its bones to be so fragile. But you almost rejoice in pure happiness as you've found its weak spot; it seems that physical actions are more effective. So you don't stop, kicking and punching with all your might as your limbs easily leave dents and holes in the monster's body. Your hands and boots are covered in the slimy dark substance, but you don't care, you're not going to die here.

In your angry tirade, you fail to notice that the creature is now free of the trunk. It turns, an arm swinging violently, making contact with the side of your torso, sending you flying to the other side of the clearing, where you crash hard into another tree, the air escaping your body as your lungs burn from the pain and your back cracks loudly.

Tears cloud your vision as the monster walks toward you, its actions mimicking a predator that has finally caught its meal. Your hands desperately search your surroundings for your weapon, but as you cough violently, you realize that the weapon has been crushed under the creature's weight on the other side of the clearing. “Oh fuck,” you mutter as the creature stands before you and wastes no time reaching down, its claws digging into your neck as it lifts you into the air.

You struggle to free yourself, your throat slowly crushed under the monster's grip, as something cold and plastic digs into the side of your hip. The Taser! As dark spots begin to fill your vision and your lungs burn, your hand reaches for your belt, unlatches the holster, and shakily pulls the device out.

Your scratched thumb quickly locates the switch and flips it on, and with all your might you jam the probes against the monster's skin and squeeze the trigger. As the volt of electricity coursed through the thing's insides, it let out a blood-curdling scream before dropping you to the ground. The pain is so great for the creature that it falls to the ground, rolling on its wrist.

But even though your world is spinning and you want nothing more than to throw up and fall asleep, you push through the pain and stand up shakily as you sprint to the monster and mercilessly stomp on its head, its skull cracking against your sole and the grass. You keep going, even when there's nothing left but a messy pile of mush and the tar-like substance, you don't stop.

You want this thing dead. Gone. Fuck whatever this thing is.

“(Y/N), STOP! It’s already dead!”

══════════════════

Tag list:

@rotknox @devotee-of-bill

[riptide-pools]

New OC : Venomous Blood AU

Meet Viper, the adopted younger sibling of MK the Monkie Kid.

A quiet person. Little to no words leaving their lips as their heterochromia eyes observed their surrounding with utmost vigilance.

Their origins are unknown. As Pigsy found their small form within a basket outside the Noodle Shop. But as they grew, they had realized they're not normal. For their forked tongue and golden eyes conveyed something else entirely.

But what of their connection with their brother? The heroic individual that took the burden the title of of being the Great Sage's Successor?

Confliction; for the glory of being the Monkey King's successor had casted shadows of bond that fell unto his beloved sibling. Their bond reflected like the moon to the sun. Dependent to the light of their brother's ways. As MK's destiny lies with Sun Wukong, they had no one. Abandoned and alone.

It diminished their spirit for the gnawing feeling of darkness looming over their heart with no light to ease their ways. Inkling with darkness though his blood like venomous vengeance.

Macaque saw his past upon them. He'll make sure to not repeat history.

Note: So... I noticed I have a sibling for Mei and Red Son... Now have this guy! I have the Traffic Light Trio Sibling OCs! (who are RGB XDD)

Small Fun Facts about Viper:

Uses they/them pronouns.

A Snake Demon. Viper isn't their real name.

They're a ribbon dancer.

Macaque's (forced) successor.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

Rowan x Reader where he’s just been a little bit too much of a dick and he has to grovel to get her back. Maybe they were arguing and he said something about her not being enough for him.

author note: this screams rowan in heir of fire xdd but thank us much for the request.

𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 (𝕽𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

WARNING: Rowan being mean but then he apologies.

 You knew Rowan could be sweet and loving, deep down, what he needed most was someone to take care of him. Every night, when he returned from a mission from Maeve, the first thing he did was take refuge in your arms. The exhaustion of weeks of travel, of fights, blood and death, was a weight that only you could appease.

    But this time it was different. This time you saw him more distant, more subdued, angry you might even say.

    He had spent a week in a city near Doranelle and when he walked through the door, you noticed something was wrong, he radiated that aura that made many run away from him. You approach Rowan and try to touch him, but you notice how his body tenses. You move your hand away and watch him go to the bathroom to take a shower. You swallow and head to your room to wait for him.

    You hear the water turn off and Rowan comes out of the bathroom next to your room, a towel hanging from his hips and his tattoo glowing in the candlelight. You weren't afraid of Rowan, but at that moment you swallowed and took a deep breath, stealing yourself.

    “Rowan, are you okay?”

    “I’m fine, Y/n.”

    "Really? It just seems like something has happened-”

    “Y/n, I told you I'm fine, don't insist, okay? What I do or don't do is none of your business."

    "Sorry? Rowan, you are my mate, I care about you.”

    A dry laugh leaves his lips, whatever happened to him while he was away you wanted to know so you could help him. Because of the bond you noticed anger, sadness... and rejection. You didn't know what... or who.

    “Y/n, you better go.”

    “No Rowan, I'm not leaving.”

    “Have you never been taught to pay attention? Pff, I'm not surprised that your relationships haven't stood up to you, you are not, nor have you been enough, neither for me, nor for anyone."

    You open your eyes wide and you feel your heart break. Tears begin to fall down your face uncontrollably and at that moment Rowan realizes his mistake. He notices the disappointment and sadness coming through the bond and his heart tightens when he sees you cry.

    He opens his mouth to say something, but you have already left the room and are heading to the guest room. You slam the door and lay down on the bed letting the tears flow.

___________________________________________

    It's been a week since the incident and you haven't seen Rowan all week, you avoided him and when you saw he was in a room you were going to go into, you went to another one to wait for him to come out. Rowan had tried to talk to you but you always left early, even though you knew that one day you would have to talk to him, try to work things out.

    Your house was surrounded by a lush forest, you walked to the waterfall where you always went to bathe or hang out. Leaning against one of the trees that surrounded the lake that created the waterfall, you were reading the second book you had started this week.

    Just when you got to the most interesting part, the smell of pine and snow alerts you that Rowan is nearby. You try to continue reading but you notice Rowan's presence next to you.

    "I want to talk to you"

    “Now do you want to talk? So that? To tell me that I'm not enough? You already made it clear the last time we spoke.”

    You hear him sigh and he stands in front of you, taking the book out of your hands. Without having the book to distract you from his gaze, you decide to look to the side, noticing some flowers that you had never seen before. His hand gently cups your face so you look at his face. Rowan notices the disappointment and sadness in your eyes.

    “I want to ask for your forgiveness. I was an idiot to tell you that, I shouldn't have said anything, but that week was one of the worst I've had in my years serving Maeve. It wasn't your fault and I paid for it with you and I'm so sorry for making you cry... I know you won't forgive me yet, but I want you to know that I'm sorry with all my soul. And I want to fix it, because this week without you has been hell. Please forgive me"

    You had almost never fought like this, some friction as a couple but nothing like this, so, hearing Rowan ask for forgiveness when he almost never asked for it... you knew he meant it.

   You raise your hand to caress his tattoo and leave it resting on his cheek.

    “I forgive you, but the next time you say something like that to me, I'm going to wait for you to transform so I can roast you like a chicken, understand?”

    A low laugh leaves his lips and he picks you up to take you to your cabin.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 / 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆.

[takenbypeter]

omggggggg i have AMAZING wonka fic ideaaaaaa!

What if wonka and reader have been working together a lot lately (platonic relationship) and Willy has noticed that y/n is scratching her arms a lot but he can't see anything bc of her sleeves and so one day he catches her like, wrapping her arms or smth bc shes allergic to the soap they use to wash the stuff and she keeps scratching themmm! so then he like, helps her wrap them and then later when they wash stuff if he sees her scratching her arms he just takes her hand XDD (platonic relationship plsss) THANK YOU!

Prickling Irritation

Willy Wonka x reader (platonic)

Words: 636

You couldn’t take it anymore. This dusty old bedroom, the dripping wet laundry every day, the soap that irritated your skin. You couldn’t do it!

But you had to, all because you forgot to read the fine print. That’s how you ended up here at Scrubbit’s, darn that fine print!

It’s only been about a month since you’ve been stuck here, and already you weren’t the newest member of the crew. The latest member who joined was a chocolatier who went by the name of Willy Wonka.

He was unlike any who joined before, he was ambitious and bold in his speech, at first it was amusing, but as he continued, he was quite motivating.

However, you would prefer not to do anything that got you into further trouble so here you worked at Scrubbit’s giving up on a way out.

Although it sucked, the work wasn’t the worst of it, no, the worst of it was the fact that you of course had to be allergic to the laundry soap used for the sheets.

Before here, you weren’t even aware of such an allergy yet ever since being stuck here you noticed how itchy your arms would get and of course with itchiness came redness.

“Ugh,” you groaned as you rubbed your forearms not wanting to itch them any longer. After a whole day of washing clothes they were prickling with every touch. Giving them a final itch, you slap them before grabbing a cloth.

Holding one your forearm up against the small desk you place the cloth underneath and holding one side with your mouth you try to wrap it around and tie it, without much success.

“Uh!” You grunt in annoyance at your lack of accomplishment. That’s when Willy happened to walk by your doorway.

“Hey what’s going on here?” He asked first taking note of your position before spotting your arms which were practically red from scratching.

You shake your head immediately pulling the sleeves from your shirt down, “oh nothing, I’m just allergic to the soap we use but it’s no biggie, I’ll manage,” you let out with a smile.

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough explanation for the boy because he took it upon himself to enter your room and hold a hand towards you, “let me,” he instructs and at that point you figure, why not? So you hand over the cloth.

“Here,” he stands opposite you and pulls your hand towards him before placing the cloth underneath it. Carefully he wraps it around, not too tight, before securing it correctly.

Without a word he holds out his own hand and you hand him the other cloth as he repeats the process.

“There, all done.”

You glance at both of your arms before turning back to him, “thank you.”

He grins with a single nod, “anything for a fellow hostage of Scrubbit’s.”

You share a small laugh and bid your goodnights, your arms itchiness letting up a tiny bit as you hoped the next day would be better than the last.

But much like the last it was similar as you woke up just as you do every day since being in this hell driven place.

Waking up, you get ready and clock in for work. After a few hours of washing laundry and the soap drying against your skin you begin to feel it again. You reach up scratching just a little, trying to relieve the itch.

You hadn’t even realized you’ve done it, until you felt Willy reach out to stop you, and you do, shooting him a thankful smile as you try to return to your work.

This whole situation was not the most ideal, but it’s the situation you were in. You were just glad you had a good friend like Willy there with you.

[moodbroads]

randomly back on wigglypaint again- aint gonna lie it looks good with all color themes XDD

anyways i just thought this lil guy would relate to some of yall- remember, as im in a community that all suffers from plenty of things (and i do too), dont be afraid to get help, though therapy is the best option since they are trained for many years. telling your therapist that your a nonhuman and have much pain within your human body will get them to do the proper research and do their best to help you. humans can indeed help nonhumans- and have so many times before.

dont be afraid to ask for therapy either! it took me some years to find the perfect type that fits me- and there are plenty of unique ones with unique people that will make sure you are your most comfortable. it might be scary at first- trust the process. its totally fine to not talk to them for many sessions or sit on the floor! they will be patient for you- to help you. its also totally okay to switch as many times as you want! dont be pressured to stay with a person your supposed to trust when you dont- though it takes time to earn trust so i do recommend atleast 2-3 sessions. think of the first as a warmup!

extra note that might help more people: you might wanna to track new medicine your taking in a writing journal or computer notes! (especially about what your feeling!) i personally find it helpful as i never really saw myself 'changing' when i take medicine. though it will never change you or your personality- medicine is supposed to help and heal you, like a mini therapist for your inner body! :D sometimes you have to take it forever, although other times you can use different ways to treat the problem- dont be afraid to ask if thats an option! i know some people dont like pills- but i bet there is another option or area to practice taking them! tictacs or jellybeans are kinda fun to take as a practice option XDD

[sin-cognito]

Ooh, how about Swapfell Red bros in C2 and D2? Or Fellswap Gold with E2 and A2. Maybe with some color palette adjustments if that'd look better.

Right before hitting send, I realized I didn't specify which outfit for which brother. And yknow what... that's fine. :D

Sorry for the wait, I also couldn't decide which outfit to give which brother so uhh... You get all of them.

Alright, on a more serious note, the Fellswap Gold was pretty easy to figure out, I really don't see Coffee wearing E2! XDD And he looks good with a hoodie on. Meanwhile, deciding which outfit to give to the Swapfell brothers really was a struggle. I can see them wearing both, but with different settings. In the first one, Black is your typical edgelord while Slim is this awkward and shy but very eager puppydog who likes to wear comfy clothes. But in the other one, you can imagine it's Black's day off so he allows himself to wear something casual, while Slim like to look tough and like a bad boy to warn off potential danger (AKA people who will try to flirt with Black).

Anyway, they took time (and I went back to work last week as well so less time to finish these) but I'm really happy with all 3! I had fun (except that moment when I realized I forgot to draw the choker around Slim's neck so I had to copypaste it from the other illustration XD)

[factual-fantasy]

Heya Factual! Congrats on the 23,000! Yet another well deserved milestone earned by your hard work and dedication! Really sorry about the cold- we always seem to get sick at the worst of times! Definitely don't do anything crazy till you're 100%, but thanks for making that really cute celebration piece- you can really tell how much the factual Fam cares about you from their worried expressions...and then there's Gerald, who refuses to let his happy demeanor waver for a second! Though then again, he is still quite young- he might not even understand the concept of getting sick yet!

And on that note, at least till you're better, I definitely won't send any unnecessarily exhausting Asks like last time ( thanks for answering that so thoroughly though- that was really cool! ) and just keep it simple- and my ask today is regarding the simplest Mario enemy, the goomba!

You've mentioned them in the past as beings created by Kamek- How does he do it? How long has he been doing it? Are the goombas sentient, or just savage constructs? How many are there, in ratio to the Koopas? Did the bros have to fight through a bunch of them on their way to the castle? And do any of their variants exist, such as the micro goombas, para goombas, or giant goombas? We require the Goomba Lore!

Thank you! :DD I'm doing my best to take it easy.. I've spent most of my days recently either sleeping, sitting, or playing Pokemon Scarlet XDD that's relaxing right? Yes, I believe so-

As for Gerald, he isn't ignorant to my condition- he's actually meant to be surprisingly emotionally aware. :0 He's smiling though all this because he wants the others to be happy. And if he's calm and smiling, maybe we'll smile too.. 🥺

I was intending to draw a comic that goes into Gerald's character a bit more... But I just haven't been well enough recently to take on a project like that.. :((

And don't worry about "exhausting asks", I encourage them! :D I could really use some lengthy asks as a form of distraction to be honest.. 🥹💔

Speaking of asks, about your Goomba questions..

Well, starting with Kamek actually- I have intentions to make him a few hundred years old. Being the most powerful magikoopa there ever was supposedly.. and he's been associated with the royal Koopa family for generations.. though this idea is in canon limbo, because I'm having trouble figuring how exactly he's managed to live so long. Considering how magic works in my au.. his lengthy life span shouldn't be possible..

None the less, even though I haven't gotten that idea to fit yet- I love it so much that most of the au kinda branches off from it- <XDDD so with that established, Kamek brings Goombas to "life" using magic of course!

I was thinking that the ability animate dead/inanimate things is a very complex magic that took Kamek years to learn. And he was only finally able to master it in the last 100 years or so.

Now for the Goombas, they are not sentient for sure. They are just these little.. zombie like.. machines. They start as poisonous mushrooms and when they are "brought to life", they gain this desire and need move and attack anything that doesn't appear to be a Koopa.

As for the Koopa to Goomba ratio.. I'd say they make up 1.5/10 of the kingdoms population. They are very disposable and "easy" to make.. but they are relatively fragile creatures and take a while to grow.. plus the Goombas don't live very long. Since they uproot themselves upon being "Goomba-fied", they eventually wilt and die.. :/ so that number doesn't ever go over 1.5.

I'm sure Mario and Luigi had to squash some on the way to save Peach the first time. But it was only after her rescue that one landed a bite on Luigi..

As for their variants, the micro and Giant Goombas surly exist! Though king Goomba might not because the original brown mushrooms probably don't grow that big-

As for para-goombas.. hmm.. I know there won't be any Goombas with wings going around. But perhaps there could be a Goomba that can release airborne spores.. or at the very least can attack from afar.. that could get them the title of para-goomba! :0

I think I covered everything, I hope at least-

Thank you for the ask and interest in my au! :DDD it was a nice read and took my mind off of all my ailments for a short time 🥹💖

[be-side-my-self]

Watching Season 4 of Only Murders In The Building. (E9)

Rewatch of ONLY Murders In The Building to prepare for season 4:

<Part I> // <Part II> // <Part III> // <Part IIII> // <Part V> // <Part VI> // <Part VII> // <Part VIII>

<S4 E1> // <S4 E2> // <S4 E3> // S4 E4 // <S4 E5> // <S4 E6> // <S4 E7> // <S4 E8>

This is no rewatch but my new posts can also easily be blocked because I'll continue to use #OMITBRewatch as a tag. I'll also tag #OMITBS4. While quoting, I use M, O, C for the main characters.

Beware spoilers! (watching on wednesday)

S4 E9

Let's see... who killed Sazz?

Who tried to kill Glen?

I feel like when someone says "He is going to ge the death of me!" it is more figuratively than literally.

Getting a job offer after being hit by a car... the american dream.

Okay... the nurse is irish too?

Going back because how big is the chance to have an irish nurse as an irish patient in america? I genuily asking.

Also I would have banned Charles and Oliver too...

A witchy board.... it's weegee board, Oliver! (in before I know it's Ouija)

That looks like really good beer... I want to try it because I like beer even though I'm no fan of pils. I'll survive though. I am a peasant though.

C: "You know, I've been thinking. You're getting married in a few days, and what if I took you out and bought you a non-beer drink to, uh, celebrate?" O: "Charles, are you offering to throw me a bachelor party?" C: *inhales* O: "I don't care what people say. You're not an ice prince."

Oliver, do you really want the kind of party that Charles would throw as you bachelor party?

I feel like i've seen the bartender before... gotta check out the actor... maybe not?

Only Sazz, Glen and the director knew what happened... is the director Dudenoff?

RON HOWARD?!

Love Olivers reaction... I paused and he is like >:0, while Charles is mildly surprised and Mabel looks like she has no idea who that is (tbf I mostly know him from The Simpsons). Anyway I guess Oliver does not like Ron.

LMAO I WAS SO WRONG XDD

O: "Finally, a celebrity this season!"

aww in the theme song we now see Howard walk his cat and dog.

nice how they hide the protegés face.

O: "Ron-Ron and I are close personal friends."

When Oliver says it like that I will now assume that Ron dislikes/hates Oliver.

Or does not remember him.

Why are we hearing about Ron Howard's nipples?

... what a mess... also yeah invite Tom Hanks to the Bachelor party

W - hiskey A - List Celebrities N - aughty S - ecret

C: "Got it. H-E-L-P."

Of course Mabel asks Bev.

Okay, let's take notes of the drink receipe because that starts out promising and with that I mean disgusting. 1 can (0.5 l) of Red Bull original (barf) 2 BiFi or mini salami ??? In a mixer and mixing it until it's a nice... barfy colour. I was expecting some kind of alcohol...

Oh Bev hates Ron?

Crew Member: "Everyone, we need all 'Escape from Planet Kongo' NDAs signed before entering." That explains the title... and autobiographic???

... I love that they are all overestimating their importance.

That security guard is really nice.

lmao

great casting scene.

GLEN IS AWAKE!!

With an irish nurse.

"Couple old men and their caretaker?"

You learn everything about a person while sharing off-menue soup.

Uh-Oh...

No! Don't cut off the oxygen to Glens brain!

Also what is up with American hospitals (in TV shows)? Everyone can just walk in an kill people, huh?

oh god... yes please discuss this while the whole set is watching you... what kind of lovers squarrel is this? Besties at it.

omg... it's aliens.... Kongonians are aliens. Certainly autobiographic.

Why does the nurse sound like she knew Glen since forever? Did they? Did she know him before?

Someone give Mabel a broom so she can go "There, there."

"Breaking news. Nicky 'The Neck' Caccimelio, the Dry Cleaning King of Brooklyn, has been reported missing. Though he has ties to the Caputo crime family, officials say they do not suspect foul play at this time." <- Putting this here for later reference.

... so... uhm... is this about the Irish vs. the Italian Mafia?

HOOOOOOO!!! wait a second! In that flashback scene the director assistant is the same as the one with Ron Ron? That would explain why he recognised Charles as Brazzos! He knew Sazz!!

.... right because it was a Ron Howard movie xD Forgot about it again because I watched that part yesterday.

Besties are at it again... and with "at it" I mean being angry at each other.

Awww Oliver is the emergency contact for Charles :']

They really are besties.

BESTIES ARE BEST MAN FOR EACH OTHER! and get colonoscopies together.

Of course ... lmao holy shit!

That was not a Dialog Marshall... it's a Monolouge

Important: that super light, long hair of the stuntperson.

RIP Ron Howards eyebrows.

I bet there is something important in that crate of beer.

Of course there is...

It's the correct sole on those shoes. ... Ron-Ron is the murderer!!!!1

Rex Bailey ....

Add a Beard and some glasses... don't tell me it's Howard... don't don't

OH... okay...

lol okay.

Uh Oh...

Also wow, Sazz wanted to talk with Charles about the movie but as in, she wrote a script. That is why she wanted to talk about the plot holes. To get the script right!

Wow. Oh gosh, Mabel is hardcore. She is in a room with a double-murderer and does not give a shit.

That is the reason for Sazz to be killed... bUT

we still don't know how to fill the plot-holes. Who wrote the notes?! Is there even a big bad in the background? .... is it Uma? j/k It's probably Howard.

[artthemasquerade]

Don't Leave Me Behind comic

I thought it was high time I try making some comics again, this time digitally and made this four page comic series, man even when keeping it simple and wordless it was a ton of work! XDDD But I did have fun with making this though and would like to make more in the future, though not right away as again this took a lot of work!

I will say that I've gained a new found respect for comic and manga artists for being able to crank out pages weekly/monthly this isn't easy even with how simple I kept it! XDD

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram, a note on deviantart or artistree https://artistree.io/missn11

[neutrallyobsessed]

on that note, funny gandhi screenshots i took during that rewatch xdd what gandhi are u feeling today~?

[sweetshrimpyboi]

Back in a voice chat the other night a bunch of friends were suggesting dressing Emile in Piers outfit from pokemon and like OMG I couldn't resist it XD This took forever to do but i'm happy with how it turned out eeee!! I feel like Emile would definitely love wearing something like this often XD So my friendos defo made he right call XD (Note Emile cannot sing to save his life so hes defo pretending the only singing he can do is this weird alien like song for his best friend Nils that has this comforting effect but it probably wouldn't sound good being performed XDD) Also Emile definitely decorated his prosthetic for the outfit too XD

Also this pose absolutely kicked my butt too ;v;

[mikalara-dracula]

first boys reaction when they hear s/o say "I love you"

The Diaboys reaction to hearing their s/o say "I love you" to them—

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Hi there, @turtle-four!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm very sorry about the wait! I have 50+ asks in both my inbox and drafts so it's a lot to get to. Hope you enjoy reading it. Feel free to request again anytime! :)

The "*smirks* I know" squad: Ayato, Kou, Laito, Kino, and Shin.

The "*chokes/spits out water*" squad: Subaru, Carla, Reiji, and also Ayato again.

The "*acts dumb and questions 'Really?'*" squad: Ruki.

The "I see" squad: Also Reiji, Carla, and Ruki.

The "Says 'Sorry, what did you say? I was half asleep' but really wasn't" squad: Shu.

The "I knew it/Finally, took you long enough to admit it" squad: Yuma.

The "*becomes confused/speechless and says 'I love cake' instead*" squad: Kanato.

Note: This idea comes from that one 70's show ep where Eric doesn't know how to say I love you back to Donna, and says "I love cake instead" lmao xDD.

Link to the video clip.

The "hesitates and doesn't know what to say" squad: Azusa.

The "Holy shit! They love me!" squad: Everyone!