#tim wright

[v1nc33]

my neck hurt like hell the whole time i was drawing this oh my dear. i tried to stylize tim because his face proportions and bone structure are awesome but i'm still moving towards my comfort of stylizing and simplifying

[crowsvpigeons]

[rebisrot]

tim commits mitosis

[mickey-bees]

i wanted to hop on the archie comic redraw thingie + ref under the cut

[c4rdin41]

If no one got me ik my masked alter do 💯

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Tim: Fuck capitalism. It’s a rigged system that keeps us poor and isn’t fair. You shouldn’t need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Tim, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should’ve tried not being poor.

[chxrillz]

this is one of the prettiest jam drawings I've seen what the freak

They’re gonna kiss guys !!

[shitty-mh-aus]

Marble hornets but instead of meeting in college they meet in grindr

.

[blorbos]

it's Tim! ^o^

[strawberryflavoredvenum]

I hc that the "masky masky masky masky masky" thing did happen but it was a tic for toby and not him trying to be annoying. Tim trained him and was the first person he talked to when he first got to the mansion and for a while he was the only name toby called. Tim filters it out and now toby has to yell to get his attention. It doesn't happen as much later on but can pop up sometimes. The other proxies definitely thought toby was being annoying on purpose.

I think their relationship is complicated. Since tim trained him, toby was fairly close to him when he first became a proxy. They definitely also butt heads a lot. Once toby was trained and made more friends in the mansion, he and tim didn't hang out as much. Tim understands. Toby is fairly younger than tim so they have a sort of older brother/ younger brother dynamic (tim being 28 and toby being 18)

[angelkiddo-woah]

YAYAYAYA

[v1nc33]

sorry for ticcimasking all over the place

[cadennwaden]

partners

[4kingz]

masky nsfw headcanons warnings : 18+ minors dni, rough sex, degradation, breathplay, manhandling, dubcon vibes, sadistic tendencies

Acts like he’s in control—because he has to be. Masky doesn’t just like control. He needs it. It’s not a kink, it’s a survival instinct. Every movement feels deliberate, like he’s trying to pin down the chaos in his head by pinning you down. His dominance isn’t showy or theatrical—it’s rigid, intense, and a little suffocating in the best way. You feel like you’re being handled, like every inch of you is being assessed, tested, and claimed.

Silence isn’t mercy. He’s not talkative in bed, not unless he’s whispering commands or low threats right into your ear. But the silence? It’s heavy. Charged. He watches you like you’re prey, and when he does say something, it’s sharp and cutting, designed to make your stomach drop and your thighs twitch. And if you try to get smart or bratty? He won’t yell. He’ll just tighten his grip on your jaw and say, “You’re not that cute when you talk.”

He’s not talking to you, but you’re the one he’s inside When he is more talkative, it’s not for you—it’s because he’s spiraling. Muttering about a fucked-up job, someone testing him, or how he messed up. His voice is low, bitter, angry, and it doesn't stop once it starts. He fucks through it. No eye contact, no softness—just tension bleeding into every thrust. His grip is bruising, rhythm punishing, like he's trying to outrun the noise in his head. You’re not the target, you’re the outlet. The tether. And when he’s like this, you feel everything he’s too angry to say.

Unrelenting. Calculated. And kind of a sadist. Masky isn’t a frantic fuck. He’s methodical. He takes his time like he’s solving a puzzle—except the puzzle is you, and the goal is to break you down piece by piece. He doesn’t rush to the finish; he drags it out, keeps you right on the edge until you’re shaking, begging, and losing your mind. The more you fall apart, the more satisfied he looks. There’s a glint in his eye when you cry a little—he lives for it.

Hands-on, always hands-on. He uses his hands like they were made to hold you in place. Around your throat, gripping your hips, yanking your head back—he grounds you with touch. He’s not afraid to manhandle you, and if you resist? That just makes it more fun for him. He’s not into “gentle correction,” nah. He’ll push you into position with a shove and growl “Stay.” If you move? That’s a whole new punishment.

You don’t fuck Masky. Masky fucks you. You don’t lead. You don’t set the pace. He does. You’re lucky if you even get to ask. But the flip side? He pays attention. He knows how to break you down, but also how to build you up exactly how you need. He won’t call it “care,” but when he wipes the tears off your face with his thumb or steadies your trembling legs post-orgasm? That’s his version of it. He’s not heartless—just wired to hide the softness under control.

He never really leaves. Even when it’s over, Masky’s energy lingers. He doesn’t do sweet cuddles or soft pillow talk, but he looms. Smoking outside your window. Sitting silently on the edge of your bed, fully dressed while you’re wrecked and naked. Watching you sleep, then disappearing before morning. He haunts more than he stays—but the space he takes up in your body, your head? That’s permanent.

[mickey-bees]

Please more vampire au, pretty please

here’s tim biting himself :)