#top posts 2022

[oldinterneticons]

Top icons posted to @oldinterneticons in May 2023

[numberserk]

sixnine 2022-early 2023 dump <:) enjoy

[snickerdoodie]

“Sugar and Spice”

Summary: Everyone knew Jake Seresin was a charismatic player. Whether it was flirting with girls at the bar or charming his way out of any situation. But what happens when the blond pilot finally meets his match?

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

A/N: hey guys..I’m not even gonna lie I completely forgot to post this lmao, I got a liiittle busy with everything and it completely went over my head. But here it is! Finally! After two months. This also isn’t proof read, per usual, so sorry if anything sounds off. Enjoy!

Jake’s chatting along with Rooster and the gang when the door suddenly chimes open, taking a quick glance as any human would, but what he sees isn’t what he’s expecting. In comes you, dressed up in a simple white tank top and probably the shorted daisy dukes he’s ever seen, not that he’s complaining though . His eyes rake over your body before he travels further upward, smirking to himself when you accidentally make eye contact. Giving him a nod and a classic small smile, you make your way over to the bar, soon getting into a quick conversation with Penny.

“Well I’ll be damn,” He says into his beer, taking a long sip before wiping his lips with a grin. That causes Rooster to quirk a brow at the unexpected comment.

“What’s up with you? Find a new pair of tits to ogle at?” He quips, noticing Hangman’s intense stare across the room. Seresin shrugs, a smirk still plastered on his handsome face.

“‘Could say that. Could also say I might have just found myself my girl tonight.” And with that, Hangman scoots himself out of the booth he was sitting in and makes his way across the room, gaze dead set on you sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He ignores the unwanted calls and shouts narrowed to him from his friends, too caught up in his next words. Taking a seat on the empty stool next to yours, leering on your exposed skin before continuing.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here sittin’ by yourself?” You turn your head to the sound of the voice, not even hearing him come up beside you. At first, you do a once over at the man, taking in his striking green eyes and Hollywood smile. Then you take notice in his uniform, his sunglasses perched on the fold of his shirt. Must be one of those pilots you keep hearing about. Turning your upper half to him, you smile.

“Doesn’t seem like I’m sitting alone now, does it?” You quip back, setting your drink down on the countertop. The man’s smirk grows wider as he rests an elbow on the wood.

“Aw, no need to thank me, just doin’ what’s needed of me.” You just now realize his country accent, standing out in certain phrases; it makes you fight back a blush. You raise a brow nonetheless.

“Is that so? Did you magically think I wanted you here, Blondie?” You know he wasn’t expecting the nick name when his brows raise for a split second before shooting back down to their original places.

“Eh, I don’t need’a think, I just know by heart. Y’know, with my magical powers ‘n all.” He imitates quotations at the end of his sentence. You huff out a laugh at his words, eyes cascading down to your watered down drink. Taking a sip, you focus your attention back onto the man in front of you. That stupid grin still plastered on his lips.

“Well can your magical powers tell you the name of the lady you decided to make your next target?” It came out a bit harsher than you intended, almost regretting your words. Truth is, you *were* enjoying his company and that southern drawl of his. He honestly was making your night a bit better than just sitting there alone, drowning in your drinks and mind while some overplayed Toby Keith song played on the jukebox.

“I’m afraid that’s somethin’ I can’t do. Care to help me out here?” Relieved he didn’t say anything about your earlier statement, you bite your lip with a smile, nodding.

“(Y/N),” you state, almost missing the way his eyes light up more at your declaration. “What about you, G.I. Joe? Got a name to the face?”

“As a matter of fact I do, gorgeous. Most people call me Hangman but I’ll make a special case and let you call me yours.” He winks with that cheshire grin. You fight back both a blush and a large smile this time at the cringy and overused line.

“Is that so?”

“I’d sure so hope so, ma’am.”

You both stay silent as you stare at each other. While you bite the inside of your cheek, he scoots himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other. You can smell his sandalwood cologne and the beer he’d been drinking previously before coming up to you. Hangman notices your lack of response and licks his lips, eyes flickering from your glass to your hair then to your lips before continuing.

“Tell ya what, sweetheart” he starts, catching your attention, “You name the game. If I win, you’re buying me dinner. But if you by some miracle manage to beat me, you won’t have to endure my charming company ever again.” He finishes, looking very confident in his proposition. You tilt your head and fully face your body towards him, your legs scooting between his as he widens his stance to make room. You swear you could have seen his adam’s apple bob harshly at the movement but you payed no mind.

You narrow your eyes slightly before a small smile stretches across your lips. With the confidence that this man passed on, you carefully lean forward so your palms are resting against his firm thighs. Bracing yourself as you lean in closer. Hangman bites his lip before tilting his head down, his chest heaving in a breath before he speaks,

“You gonna take up on that offer, darlin’?” He drawls out, voice raspy, almost sultry. You look him in the eyes as you lightly squeeze his skin, his smirk growing.

“Y’know what? I will, s’not like I’ve got anything to lose now is there, cowboy?”

I also tried to make my format for my fics a little more..interesting looking. I felt like they’re too boring so tell me your thoughts. Feel free to comment if you liked or disliked something! :)

[mockerycrow]

needy, and soon to be pussy-drunk ghost (fem!reader)

connected to this — nsfw below the cut. mdni!!

“please, sweetheart..”

ghost is convinced you want him to die, the way you’re withholding yourself from him. he’s on the bed on knees with you in front of him—laying back on the pillows, your legs spread to give him a view of your wet cunt, how you’re slowly pumping a finger inside of yourself and occasionally slipping it out to rub your clit. it’s pleasant, but you’re doing for the purpose of teasing ghost.

his pupils are wide and dilated, focused on how your finger runs through your wet folds, how nearly creamy strings connect and snap from your finger and your pussy; you always get so horny teasing him, the ghost who hasn’t been able to bury his face between your thighs in weeks. his mask is abandoned somewhere in the room, his face still smudged with eyeblack. “fuckin’ hell—“ ghost groans, watching you spread yourself open to him, a whine leaving you as the cold air touches your hole.

ghost’s jaw aches. his fingers twitch where they remain on his thighs, sprawled out and nearly gripping the fabric of his pants. his gut is hot with need, and his mouth nearly waters every time it seems like you’re contemplating giving him what he wants. “please.” ghost begs—he fucking begs as you slide two fingers inside of yourself this time. “don’t even need t’fuck you, jus’.. just need my mouth on ya, yeah? please, bloody hell—“

hmm. maybe you’re feeling a bit nice?

[raineyraven]

just watched vide noir (2022) and i have to say the tragedy of a man whose love leaves him because he wasn't what she needed him to be, who through his journey to find her again became the man she wanted him to be so that he could get to her, only to reach her and find that it's too late to get her back, who grew and changed in his quest for someone who was always going to be out of his reach and he didn't know it until he'd undergone that change?? that shit fucks oh my god.

[illiana-mystery]

Throwback Thursday: Dead for a Dollar (2022)

[d8tl55c]

more Tempo (community post)

[sharky66]

trying to get myself to post oc art more

[foldingfittedsheets]

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I was so hoping that my unhinged pickle post didn’t make the cut… alas…

[top-wing]

Floof

Ay, it's better than wet feathers, no?

[trying-to-get-somewhere-real]

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[smolmakerel]

Sam knew it was a mistake to stay in New York after what went down last year. Everywhere any of them went, they were harrassed and mocked for views on the internet. Especially Sam.

Even Tara wasn't immune to Sam's cult-like r/Stab subreddit fans, with them believing Tara was secretly masterminding the 2022 killings or she was secretly Roman Bridger's child or whatever wild assumption they wanted to make.

Now another Ghostface pair was chasing after them. Both of them being Amber's parents. Motive? They believed Tara masterminded Woodsboro and wanted revenge for killing their baby girl.

A load of bullshit, if you ask Sam.

Sam may not have liked her when Amber first started hanging around Tara, but she was still a good kid. A little odd, but definitely not a Ghostface worshipper. At least, not until the Freeman family made the impromptu decision to purchase the old Macher house.

And what a great move that was, Sam bitterly thought to herself as she hid behind a barrel on the dock.

She peeked out from behind her cover in search of two Ghostfaces. The dock was lit up in a soft orange glow, which would make the stalking of the Freemans obvious, but Sam saw nothing interesting.

There's a short scream followed by a splash. Sam's heart leapt into her throat.

"Stupid bitch! She bit my fingers off!"

Sam adjusted her bloody grip on her knife. Footsteps thudded closer to her hiding spot.

"Yeah, and she got her karma for it! But we needed her to lure out that Loomis bitch -"

Sam moved quickly and wrapped her hand around Mrs. Freeman's neck. "I would say it's nice to see you again, but it's really not."

Mrs. Freeman froze as Sam's knife touched the middle of her spine. She smiled nervously.

"Sam -"

"What did he do to my sister?" Sam demanded to know. She shook her head. "Damn it, I don't have time for this!"

Sam thrusted the knife into the woman's back. Ignoring the woman's screeches, she dug higher and higher, deeper the knife went until Mrs. Freeman began to gurgle and go limp. Blood dribbled from her parted lips and then splattered on the dock when she fell, Sam's knife not holding her up anymore.

Sam swiped the blood from the knife. But before she could turn around, something caught her attention in the water.

Tara's inhaler floating on the water's surface.

"No!" Sam screamed.

"Yes!" Mr. Freeman appeared from the shadows, grin wickedly wide and knife raised above his head.

Sam gasped when the knife cut into her arm and backed away, dropping her knife at the pain. Her eyes stare at the rippling water where Tara was fighting for her life.

She can't swim.

A fog clouded over Sam's already dark eyes and made them black with hatred. An inhuman growl erupted from her throat.

"You son of a bitch."

Mr. Freeman scowled. "You killed my precious wife, and your slut sister killed my precious daughter! How does it feel to lose someone so close to you?!"

Mr. Freeman raised his knife and slashed again, but Sam caught him by surprise. She grabbed his arm and halted it from coming near her. Her head raised.

"I wouldn't know," Sam hissed.

Crack went Mr. Freeman's wrist. The man cried out and tried to back away from Sam who was stalking forward slowly.

"Ge-Get away from me! I-It was just a joke - a prank! Like Amber did!" Mr. Freeman swallowed as a line of sweat dropped down his brow. He continued to back up while placating Sam. "You don't have to kill me at all!"

Sam grabbed the knife Mr. Freeman dropped. She examined the dark red dripping from the blade and down the handle. There was too much for all of it to be hers. Some of it might be Mr. Freeman's who's missing half the fingers on his left hand, but she wasn't thinking about his wounds right now.

Tara. Her blood. Her sister. Drowning.

Sam didn't know what she did to Mr. Freeman. She blinked and he was gone, but her arms were stained red as well as the wood below her feet.

Sam came back to herself and dropped the knife. Without any other distractions, she jumped into the inky black ocean.

She was blind in nature, desperately waving her hands around under the water to grab onto something, anything that could be her sister.

She had to come up for a deep breath on the first dive.

Diving down again, Sam was starting to lose hope. She couldn't lose her baby sister, not after everything that's happened between them. Not after being reunited for only two years.

Then her hand brushed something. Sam grabbed and pulled whatever it was to the surface.

She gasped and coughed out freezing cold water and began swimming back to the dock.

"C-Come on, T-Tara." Sam's teeth chatter from the extreme cold of the Atlantic seeping deep into her bones. "You're g-going to be o-ok. Sta-Stay with me, mi vida¹."

It took all of Sam's strength to haul Tara's limp, freezing body out of the water and onto the dock. From there, Sam pulled herself up and checked on her sister.

Tara was lying there, wet and cold and not breathing.

Sam muttered every curse she knew under her breath. She knelt by Tara's side and hovered her hands over Tara's chest.

Those very same hands that butchered Mr. Freeman.

Sam nearly faltered. What if she accidentally killed her sister by trying to bring her back to life? Her hands would snap her ribcage which would puncture her lungs and heart.

She could kill her sister.

But she couldn't wait any longer. Gale was taking too long to show up.

So, with a silent prayer, Sam began to give Tara CPR.

Tara's body jerked at each chest compression and fell still when her nose was plugged and air was forced into her mouth. Her lips were tinged blue and were icy.

"Por favor. ¡Por favor, Tara, respira!²" Sam begged.

She was running out of time. If she couldn't get Tara breathing within the next couple of minutes...

Sam kept her steady rhythm.

She could hear a crack from Tara's ribs giving way under her hands. Tears cascaded down Sam's face, and she began to wail.

"Tara!" Sam plugged Tara's nose and blew into her mouth again. She returned her hands to Tara's chest and -

Tara began to cough out salt water, body jerking with each retch she took. Sam cried in relief.

Tara whimpered as she was lifted slightly, laying loosely in Sam's tight embrace. Her breathing was wheezing and sounded watery, and Sam knew she had to go to the hospital now.

"Sam?" Tara whispered.

Sam nodded, kissed her forehead, and brushed wet hair out of her face. "It's me. I got you."

Rough breathing escalated into wet sobs of terror, but Sam didn't think of them as heartbreaking. It was a sign that Tara, her baby girl, was alive.

"'m so c-cold..." cried Tara. She clutched at her chest which was tightening with pressure. "Can't b-breathe..."

Sam cursed herself for leaving Tara's spare inhaler in her jacket which was given to Gale earlier in the day. And if she had her jacket, she would've wrapped Tara up in it while she herself froze in her soaking gray tank top.

"I know, mi vida¹, I know," Sam soothed her sister as best as she could. She could hear the sirens wailing closer.

Tara curled into Sam's embrace and continued to cry as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

—●—○—●—○—

1: "Mi vida" - My life

2: "Por favor. ¡Por favor, Tara, respira!" - Please. Please, Tara, breathe!

[oceandiagonale]

okay. 42 inbox, 31 drafts. not all of them are oc sunday things but a lot of them are,,,,, hmm,,,,

(for the new folks, oc sunday is a thing where people send in their pokemon ocs and I post them because having ocs is rad and everyone has their own spin on the pokemon world/plots/stories. but I haven't done it since last july)

[vandrawsing]

(some) things i didn't post in 2023 :) my wish for 2024 is to keep having fun with my drawings and with all of you, chin-chin 🥂

[pee-com]

to all of you who saw the batman rerelease....

i hope you have a lovely day.

[5eraphim]