#toloveakiwi

[sybaritick-moved]

For the handwriting meme: 6, 18, 22, 33, 37

kiwi!!

bonus:

[itsaaudraw]

I'm screaming over the fact that Slappy's evil twin's name is SNAPPY.

the next, unknown evil twin’s name is gonna be Scrappy

[qdc-anna]

Low key noticed you reblogging some of my PM posts, which makes me suuuper happy! Also see you really like Sixy~ Have you read any of the comics? I can send you screencaps of Sixy both in puppet and human form if you’d like? Sorry if I seem weird coming at you suddenly, I just get excited when I find someone else that likes this series lol :P

EEK! Hello there, fellow Puppet-Master fan! I still can’t fucking believe it that I’m a puppet fucker now! I also dragged @waifuside into the Puppet-Master limbo as well, so check her out too!

 Yes, I read the comics… Great artstyle, It had a pretty sad ending, tho..

Eeeh… I just stick to the Puppet Sixy, tbh!

Anyways…. Nice to meet you, Tolo!

[slasherbastard]

Brahms and

“I am damaged.”

(Gives me Heathers vibes lolol)

(gif credit: toloveakiwi)

Warnings: Angst. A lot of Angst, swearing, suicide mention Word count: 2112 Notes: I was this close to writing a bad ending with the manor burning down but I felt bad for Brahms in this one - ALSO if you read this before I edited the first paragraph I’m sorry for the confusion lmao

A fresh start was what you needed. You managed to get away from your family once you took a job across the country as an accountant but you got lost on what felt like a never ending road heading to the middle of nowhere. When you first discovered the Manor it was by accident. You’d been walking for who knows how long among roads surrounded by trees, scared you’d eventually end up trespassing onto someone’s property - but instead you found yourself outside big open gothic gates.

The sun was starting to set and you tried calling out to whoever might’ve been inside the house behind the black spiked fences for a good half hour before going against your morals and just going inside. That’s when you discovered a few odd things. You didn’t know whether to start on the fact that there was drying blood on the floor or the chalk-like substance beside it next to the broken glass belonging to the mirror on the wall, it was a lot to take in.

You assumed that whoever was in the house had decided to flee or maybe someone had broken in - not counting yourself - it was a bit much to think about considering the fact that you were tired as hell and just wanted to sleep. You saw some bunched up blankets and pillows on the couch just feet away from what looked like a legitimate crime scene and decided that sleeping would be a terrible idea, but you were so tired that once again your morals were abandoned as you passed out curled on the white couch cuddling up to the blanket.

That morning, you met the man in the porcelain mask.

You watched him with wide eyes and worried yourself with thoughts of him hurting you and the blood puddle from last night flashed like a ‘life before your eyes’ memory as you tried to imagine what this large figure could do to you - not sexually, although those thoughts were close behind. He got close and as much as the mask creeped you out and you prayed you were dreaming, he didn’t turn hostile, instead he just asked for your name in a high pitched child-like voice.

“Y-Y/N. I am so sorry if I intruded - do you live here? I was just getting ready to go if-”

“No. Stay.” Stay?

“I can explain, sir. I was just so tired and the gates were open and I just needed to-” You gripped your head as an ache hit, you couldn’t tell whether or not it was caused by your own rambling or if it was from the confusion of the events you’d witnessed and were witnessing.

The man - who you later found out was named Brahms - explained as little as you’d wanted. A doll and a list of rules, why? Who knows? Definitely not you, he just expected you to roll with it and so you did. You were a little scared of him so you decided to follow the rules if it meant keeping you alive.

Cut to a few weeks down the line. You’re still living in this gothic daydream of a house with a mysterious man who gave you Phantom of the Opera vibes, things were surprisingly going well for you. For example, you weren’t dead and as weird as it sounded, you and Brahms were now a thing.

Was it weird kissing porcelain lips rather than real ones? Yes. Was it weird falling asleep next to that face? Yes. Was it weird how he never took that damn mask off unless your eyes were covered? Yes. But you managed to deal with it.

When you said you wanted a fresh start this isn’t what you had in mind but weren’t really complaining at the same time. At last, you were happy. You always dreamed of living away from everyone in a cottage in the woods where your only responsibility was to bake bread and not worry about anything, and this was just as close as you were gonna get to that - a manor, where your only responsibility was to care for Brahms. He’s so mysterious, it makes you feel something that you couldn’t explain. But as weird and unexplainable as it truly was to you, you were still happy.

However, things started going sour after an incident that occurred after lunch one day. Brahms’ had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and he was constantly throwing tantrums over the smallest things. You’d just finished the dishes and Brahms was sulking around the dining room table shoving at the chairs and kicking the table legs every time he passed one.

You were growing sick of him and threw the dirty rag you were holding onto the counter and squawked at the older man. “Brahms! What is your problem?”

He stopped and looked up at you for a few seconds before a string of apologies fell out of your mouth, as genuine as they were they also seemed so shallow as you watched Brahms’ eyes. You weren’t standing close enough to see any twitches or expression in those eyes, but you did see what looked to be tears. It broke you.

That’s when Brahms started growing distant. Usually he loved being around you and lived and breathed you but now it just feels like the real Brahms is actually dead and haunting you. You thought It’d blow over in a few days - or in Brahms’ case, a few hours - but it didn’t. He continued to just linger like a ghost, you could feel him watching you but he’d never speak a word and if you tried to initiate a conversation with him he’d disappear.

He began spending more time in the walls and his side of the bed was now occupied by nothing, growing cold. His guilt from the other day was eating him alive and you weren’t actually sure if he’d been eating either since the meals you left him in the freezer stayed there. It worried you, but you couldn’t get through to him, which made you even more worried.

---

That night you heard a loud bang come from downstairs and quickly sat up, swinging your legs over your bed and onto the floor you pushed yourself up and ran for the bedroom door. You opened it then stopped before going back in to grab your phone, switching the phone’s light on then making your way downstairs as quickly as you could. Brahms was on the floor, the fridge was open, and the pot of spaghetti you made for dinner was now sprawled across the kitchen floor. Brahms looked up at you and you expected to see shame in his eyes, but they looked dead instead - Not as if he didn’t regret his mistake or that he didn’t care, but he just seemed dead inside.

You knelt down beside him and reached for him but before you could say his name he was up and running for the closest entrance to the walls. “BRAHMS!” You called after him but he didn’t stop, so you ran after him. Being in the walls for the first time was weird but all those feelings felt as if they were miles away while Brahms was racing through your mind even quicker, he seemed to be moving faster as if he were trying to get away from you. You continued calling after him until he turned a corner into his loft and stopped dead in the middle of the room. He didn’t turn to meet your eyes or talk, he just stood there with his back to you looking down at the floor.

You took a few seconds to watch him just in case he was planning on doing something but he didn’t, he just stood there. You tried to step forward and reach for him but your limbs stayed put, so you let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Brahms, please.” Your words were shaky as you tried not to cry. “I told you, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I didn’t-”

You stopped when Brahms slowly turned to you - a part of you was relieved that he’d finally stopped ignoring you - and said those three words. “I am damaged.”

Neither of you spoke as you tried to collect your words but you couldn’t find the right words. “What?”

“I am damaged.”

“No you’re not Brahms-”

“YES I AM!” He raised his voice and you took a few steps back, bumping into the wall. “I am a monster.”

You were very confused at this moment, you thought Brahms was mad at you for yelling at him but he was mad at himself? You took a step forward but he took a step back, purposefully trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I’m a monster.”

“Brahms you are not a monster. You are not damaged, you’re not bad.” You tried to convince him as he began rummaging through a box on the floor, you began biting down on your thumbnail softly as he picked up what looked to be a news article and shoved it into your chest with a slight bit of force.

You looked down and grabbed the newspaper as he went to let go and you began reading. “I killed her.”

You clicked your tongue as you tried to take in this new information, you were finally starting to realise why he held so much back from you, especially when it came to his past. Letting out a breath you looked up at the man. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you.” You were shocked by the words that came out of your mouth and shocked that you meant everything you’d said. You were standing right next to a murderer and you weren’t scared.

Without warning Brahms ripped off his mask before stepping up to you, just inches away from your face as he screamed “What about this! Huh? I am not who you fucking think I am! I am fucking dam-” He bit his lip and quickly turned around, putting the mask back on and trying to quieten his sobs. “Just go. Before I hurt you, too.” he said in a hushed, calmer voice that you almost didn’t hear.

“No.” Brahms turned to you, he was just as confused as you were. “What else have you done. What else are you hiding from me?” You weren’t angry, still a little upset, but not angry.

“You’ll leave me, just like they all did.”

“Brahms trust me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve done bad things too.” You let out an awkward laugh in an attempt to try to lighten the mood but it clearly failed as you cleared your throat and tried to act like it didn’t happen. “Please. I just want you to be honest with me.”

He didn’t respond. Instead he took the mask off and wiped away the stray tears before they could fall. Brahms began to dive into his past, from the murder of his childhood friend to the most recent murder that took place the night you arrived. He answered all your questions and watched you, still worried you’d go against your promises and run but you didn’t. You just stood there and listened, you were glad he was finally being honest - in return you told him about your past and even though it wasn’t as gruesome as his he still listened. By the end of that conversation you felt closer to Brahms, it felt like a twisted version of couple’s therapy but it worked. Brahms was still very surprised at the fact that you stayed even after he admitted to his crimes, he felt a bit sympathetic for you even.

That night the two of you fell asleep next to each other, woke up together, ate breakfast together, it was the most inseparable the two of you had been in months. After last night you’d expected a bittersweet ending - you expected to be kicked out, even - but you were only closer to him, the strange man who once wore a mask of porcelain.

This is as good as your life is going to get, and you’re still happy.

[fuzzychildchopshop]

Clue's Blue by ToLoveaKiwi

[acosmonautsloth]

toloveakiwi replied to your post: There's a dude with an ahegao shirt at my...

He’ll be making the ahegao face as he chokes to death

Nice that will work

[deadcomedianfandom]

Ur blog is A++ quality content d(^_^o)

thank you!

[futurebunnyoverlordoftheuniverse]

Hold My Little Hand

So this is the Puppet Master fic I’ve mentioned a couple times before. I decided to post it here since tumblr nerfed my side account and now no one can see it there. It’s a short fic, a bit slashy, but fairly innocent. It was originally written for @toloveakiwi (whose art inspired it) and was posted on Valentine’s Day 2017. 

Summary: This takes place just before the opening of the first movie and ignores most of the prequel films. Blade and Jester enjoy the view at the Bodega Bay Inn.

Blade leaned back against a wooden post of the low and simple fence, only there to remind guests not to wander too close to the edge of the cliff near the hotel. It was peaceful here at Bodega Bay, especially at sunrise. The sky was streaked with pink and gold as the night and its stars faded away, the sea breeze gently tugged at his coat and hair, and the sound of the ocean ebbing and flowing down by the beach was soothing. The California beach was definitely a place he wouldn’t soon forget when they will inevitably leave.

He had never been the type to take the time to watch the sunrise, not during his first life. In his second life –current life– he and his new family had been on the run from those who hunted his master and the life-giving formula. They had been too busy guarding Andre Toulon to appreciate the sights Europe had to offer as they traveled country to country. They hadn’t even stayed long in Switzerland after safely delivering Peter to a distant relative. Blade let out a quiet sigh at the thought of the boy. He’d been a good assistant to Toulon, just as he promised, but the boy had already lost his father and there was no need to endanger his life further by letting him stay with them.

The memories of his first few months after leaving Berlin faded as he glanced back at the hotel. They’ve been here for a month now and Andre planned on them staying for another, much longer than they ever spent in any other town in this country or in Europe. Andre had even unpacked his old posters and all his incomplete puppets the week before. The United States was a large country and their family was as far from Germany as possible at the moment. It would take time before their trail was found again, and because of that Blade and the other puppets allowed themselves moments to breathe and find contentment in their current home.

A sudden rustling sound then came from behind Blade’s post. He climbed quickly to his feet, turning to face whatever was coming his way. His ready knife automatically lowered itself at the sight of Jester pushing wildflowers and tall grass away as he made his way to Blade. What was Jester doing here?

Blade made a gesture toward the hotel. Did Andre send him to bring Blade back? Jester shook his head, his face still smiling. The older puppet walked over to Blade’s post and took a seat against it. He then looked over at Blade and patted the space next him. So Jester wanted to watch the ocean too, huh? Blade wasn’t going to object; he enjoyed Jester’s company, and sat back down next to him.

Jester was sitting cross-legged as he swayed along with the breeze. He never did like to stay still when humans, excluding Andre, weren’t around. He cooed softly at the view of the ocean, obviously finding it as lovely as Blade did. Not that Blade was looking at the ocean anymore, his gaze solely on his companion. Jester – Hans, a distant memory from another life quietly whispered – was a beautiful puppet. He wasn’t intimidating in appearance like most of the other living puppets, but he was so very clever and his ideas had helped them more often than not. Looking back at all the times his friend had bought them time to attack or had lightened the mood when tensions were too high among them, Blade honestly couldn’t help but appreciate Jester’s presence in his life.

Suddenly, Jester turned and caught Blade staring at him. The younger puppet tensed up and quickly turned his “eyes” back to the ocean. He hunched up his shoulders as he heard Jester giggle, embarrassed that he allowed himself to stare at his companion for so long. Then he felt a wooden hand rest over his wrist. Blade forced himself to look back at his friend and noticed that Jester was watching him now, a question in his gaze. Blade found himself nodding in response to it. Jester cooed happily and scooted closer to him until their sides touched, his hand never leaving Blade’s wrist.

They stayed that way until it was time for Jester to return to the room to get his paint touched up. Blade was sad to see him go, but they could always do this again tomorrow morning.

--

Blade was wrong; they weren’t going to see the sunrise again for a long time. He knew from the moment he spotted the Germans heading for the hotel. He knew even as he beat them back to their room to warn the others. He knew even as Andre told him that everything would be fine, that they would be safe. He wanted to believe Andre, he really did, but his old memories of personally witnessing their enemies' cruelty were still sharp. He had trembled in Andre’s hands, knowing that this would be the last time he would see his master. Andre carefully placed Blade next to Jester, before closing the trunk and sealing his wooden family away behind a secret wall panel.

In the safety of the dark, Jester reached over and held Blade’s wrist. He didn’t let go as they heard the knocking and the voices outside the room. He didn’t let go when a gun fired a single bullet and the room’s door was forced open. He didn’t let go long after the men tore the room apart and their voices faded away. Jester never let go of Blade even as they slept for nearly fifty years and for that, Blade was grateful.

He only wished he could hold Jester’s hand back.

[richletozier]

you can blame @toloveakiwi for this awful inside joke of meme pics

[sybaritick-moved]

i haven’t posted selfies in like what, 3 weeks? so for the 0 people that are surely thirst following me, heres some recent stupidity

[acapelladitty]

Can you recc your favorite blogs for follows ?

Since i don’t really know what you’re into i can’t really recommend specific fandom blogs but i can rec some of my favourite people? (alphabetically)

@dolphinsjukebox @enygmass @gothamscitysirens @lankybrunettepartdeux @midnightsingvogel @neuroticnygma @sinclair-solutions @spyvstailor @timethehobo @toloveakiwi @thebustystclair @waiting4codot @zombiebrainsoup

These are the first ones to spring to mind as being the people i speak to the most often or have known the longest. Each of them are insanely talented in their various fields (be it art, writing, fisting or voice acting) but the one thing they all have in common is a good head on their shoulders mixed with a wonderful personality/wicked humour.

[orchiddarling]

Prompt 31 "stop biting that fucking lip" for Stefano ❤️ love your writing btw it's fantastic! 💜💙💚

Awwwshucks! Thank youuuu so much!! I hope you enjoy this!!!

StefanoValentinix Reader \  Biting

Prompt:“stop biting that fucking lip!”

Pairings:Stefano Valentini x Reader

Warnings:none.

A/N:Gifsbelong to the owners, in this case…  toloveakiwi.I do not own these gifs, they are used with the utmost respect.

Youwere sitting at Stefano’s desk, attempting to sketch an image that wasforming in your mind when a streak of blue light appeared beside you.You jumped in reaction to it, knowing it was Stefano, “You have tostop doing that, you’ll give me a heart attack.” Stefano chuckleddarkly and traced a gloved hand down your cheek, “Is that apromise?”

Youhated those jokes, you couldn’t tell if he was truly serious or not,“No, I just don’t want to die, okay?”

Youwere tired and a tad grumpy, this didn’t bother him in the slightest.He grabbed your paper, holding it up at odd angles to study it. Youtried to grab for it but he kept taking it just out of your range ofreach, “I know, it’s complete shit. I’ll fix it up or start a newone.”

Stefanobrought the paper down to look at you, he smirked, “I think it’s awonderful representation of me, although I never pictured myself as adevil.” He studied you carefully as he placed the paper in front ofyou again, walking behind you, “Don’t ever call your work ‘shit’again, understand, bella?” His gloved hands came to rest on eitherside of you on the desk, his voice whispering close to your ear, “Youare a masterpiece, never forget that.”

Youbent your head to look upwards at him and bit your lip to quell thenervous feeling, “Yes, Stefano,” you answered quickly, notnoticing that you bit your lip so hard, you were bleeding.Stefano’s eye flashed and in an instant his demeanor changed, “Stopbiting that fucking lip!”

Hebent down and took your bottom lip into his from the spot above you.He sucked at it and traced his tongue along the bite, his breathingbecoming heavier. His hands moved to grasp the back of your chair,spinning you around so he could properly ‘tend’ to your wound. Histongue lapped at the blood while crashing his lips into yours. Youpressed your hands against his chest, touching his blue suit. Yourbody was begging for oxygen and it felt like he was draining thatwell dry, you pressed again in an attempt to separate.

Thistime he obliged, licking his lips. His eyelids were slightly closed,you could tell he had gotten satisfaction from that encounter, “Ohmy bella,” he said through ragged breaths, “My (Y/N). You aremine and mine only.”

Youwere able to breath again, nodding when he spoke of you being his.You were brought here to help him and instead you fell for yourcaptor. That was never good and from what you had heard, his other'help’ were turned into pieces of art. That was not something youwanted, “Stefano, can you promise me one thing?” You wrung yourhands in your lap, a nervous twinge to your voice.

Stefanostared into your eyes, you could feel the lust emanating from him,“Anything, my dear.”

“Pleasedon’t kill me.”

Hecouldn’t help himself, he started to laugh loudly, “Never would Iharm you my bella, others deserve the pain, but you? No, you havesuch artistic potential. You are an artist like me! You appreciatewhat I bring to the table,” he came close to you again and lickedyour cheek, it was slow and soft, making you shiver.

“ And youare mine.”

[shigironki]

I was tagged by @fetacheeseandsoup to make a mood board only out of photos in my library Personally I think this is gr8. I tag @canadian-riddler @jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear @toloveakiwi @riddlcr @reichan-gaz and anyone else who would love to do this!

[fuzzychildchopshop]

Kitty Trio by ToLoveaKiwi

[acosmonautsloth]

A Song For Every Letter In My Name

I keep finding things I got tagged to do a long time ago, so here goes another one...

I got tagged by @jynkiess​, actually by her sideblog @flairytale​

G.I.N.A.S.F.S. - Fall Out Boy Aberdeen -  Cage The Elephant Bones - The Killers Rendezvous Girl - Santigold I ran (So Far Away) - A Flock of Seagulls Eros and Apollo - Studio Killers Let's Go - Stuck In The Sound El Mañana - Gorillaz

I’m gonna tag: @bonelessworm, @00x7, @maidenthestargazer, @unholysavior, @toloveakiwi, @thepavi, @orwell-and-his-unicorn-horn

[isolateddeerbra]

@toloveakiwi NO THIS ONES CUTER 😭😭

Can we please have more of Blade and Jester? ;u; ♥