#v bandana

[starflungwaddledee]

alas, it seems the christmas mystery shall remain unsolved 🎁 happy holidays!

[nex-has-gender-envy]

Oh no, Venom haven't understood the point of movie. . .

It's fine guys, Eddie will explain it to him later

Got inspired after seein ACTUAL og text to this panel and Venom deadass saying "mojo dojo casa house"

[ato-dato]

Breaking! Local senior citizen is embarrassed about past hair choices!!!

[goldenbeastkeeper]

@nxtleftbehxnd

Of anything Valor was expecting to see today, it was not someone with a tattoo of something unequivocally and undeniably from the Boiling Isles. Sure, the human realm had stories about creatures that harkened back to ones that had likely come from the demon realm, but over time their appearances had warped to such an extent that they were quite distinct from the actual creatures they were sourced from.

So to find something that actually looked like something from the Boiling Isles . . .

Someone who'd been to the Boiling Isles was here. Whether they'd always lived there or it was a human that found their way there and made it back . . . He wasn't going to pass up this chance. It'd been more than 20 years since he and Flicker had gotten stuck here, and even if this person didn't have a way back, even just having someone else to talk to that had been in the Boiling Isles and knew what it was like would be invaluable.

The one who'd gotten the tattoo directed him to the mall, and luckily the artist was not that difficult to find there.

He stood at the edge of the hallway watching her for a few moments, working up his courage, before readjusting the bandana that covered his ears and approaching.

"Hello?"

[immortal-cataclysm]

HEY. THINK FAST *throws two idiots at you*

[tarmac-rat]

Badlands chic

[risingsunresistance]

my bag may not be as ✨aesthetic✨ as some people's but IDC IM HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!! all my little things on display yayyyyy

wouldnt be complete without my "nether star" on the side :3c

[elvenbeard]

One ticket to Barbie please!

(loving this look a little too much, it's just for fun... but also, he's fucking slaying it xD I want just like, 2% of his confidence, please?)

Poses💜 Coat 💜 Pants

[suntails]

saw the barbie movie 2day 🎀✨

[venelona-turtle-den]

If you were a demon, what items would be required for your summoning ritual?:)

A pack of sourcream chips, red panda fur, a charm, a bone and a bottle of mineral water

[starflungwaddledee]

Bandee and Starstruck 🎀💖

starting off my february starstruck dee ship-a-ganza with the big one. they do seem like... the obvious answer, huh...?

they have far and away the most development together and the strongest personal relationship, both in what i've posted, and in her story overall! would kill or die for each other in a heartbeat. i would be absolutely lying if i said i'd never thought about it, but i'm not 100% convinced my thoughts lead me to romance specifically...

they're already pretty insane about each other! starstruck in particular is madly in love with bandee in every way it's possible to be. loves him the way he loves kirby, i think (pretty sure he does not know this. might be shocked to learn it.)

however she's daft as bricks, so he'd have to initiate, and i can't really imagine anything in their relationship would change.... so he'd have to mostly want The Title or the Performance one way or another, and i'm not super sure he would!

[chiropteracupola]

The vibe of your blog is a comfortable loft with walls that are covered in sketches and first drafts. Your tables are covered in half-formed projects of all sorts of mediums. There is always the sound of pencil scratching on paper. The windows are circular and small, providing a view of the outside only when you stand near them to look out. Whether it's sunny out or storming, the room is always well lit.

oh! very cozy! and thank you for the reminder to turn on the lights!

[totentnz]

you know in a happier version of worlds johnny gets a body and v is like "u gotta talk to kerry" so the three of them meet in a sonewhat public place and then v is like ok imma dip you know where to find me and naturally neither of them knows where she is so eventually she comes back with a big ass teddy bear she won at the arcade and on the ride back the bear sits in the passenger seat and kerry and johnny have to sit in the back

[juice-boxy]

Hey you said you wanted requests for rottmnt doodles?:D can you draw Mikey or Leo trying to learn how to play ukulele?? Idk I love this hc

He’s pretty good at it actually

[airship-full-of-dragons]

....those are weird cowboys. now to get them, actually

[hanasnx]

“ I CAN FEEL IT, CAN YOU FEEL IT, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE AIR ” — rafe cameron.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: kinktober; takes place in obx s4 e1 but there’s a slight change; also happy birthday @princessbrunette :) i wrote this for you in mind; and based off of the scene in f&f where dom picks letty up calling her his trophy. WARNINGS: spoiler warning for obx season 4 episode 1 ノ non canon compliant: i made rafe win the race ノ size difference ノ established relationship ノ objectification ノ impact play: ass smack ノ mild exhibitionism bcos of pda ノ praise ノ sexual content: p in v stuff ノ dirty talk.

Your feet sink into the sand as you traipse alongside RAFE CAMERON to his station in the race. His large hand envelopes yours, keeping you balanced as he leads you to his bike. The roar of revving fills your ears, loud enough for your boyfriend to have to lean down to your level to speak to you, walking you through the process and your role here. You’ve never been a flag girl before, but he told you she needs to be a “hot piece of ass” and he wants these boys heads still spinning when he wins the race. As a distraction, you were the only girl he wanted for the job.

“… and all you gotta do, baby, is make sure those guys are lookin’ at you. Show off a little something—just this once, I don’t care.” he explains, and you nod your head while brushing your hair out of your face from the wind. The two of you stand aside his bike and he mounts it, swinging a long leg over it. It creaks from his weight, and you roll your tongue between your lips. Without sunglasses, his gaze is narrowed, meeting yours in the light as he tugs you closer to him. “You look good. Prettiest girl on Figure Eight.” he assures you, the corner of his lips quirked as he checks you out. The tiniest booty shorts you could find and a stringy bikini top, you looked good enough to eat. If Rafe wasn’t so concerned with crossing the finish line while these cucks were still drooling over you, he’d be a little jealous they get such a treat. “Man, you are eye candy. Give me a twirl, c’mon.”

It eases your nerves, grinning bashfully to yourself as he raises your hand over your head, twisting on your toes to show him your outfit. He bites his lower lip hard at the sight of the underside of your ass hanging out of your shorts, and he can’t help but give you a tap. You whirl around from the swat, and catch his eyes flash up.

“Mm, baby.” he exclaims, talking about you like you’re dessert and he’s got a sweet tooth. He doesn’t give you a chance to scold him for smacking your ass around all these people, “C’mere,” he murmurs, yanking you to him until your body is draped over him on his bike. Your manicured nails brace on his chest while he steals a kiss, humming in surprise at him when he tilts his head to deepen it. Takes advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue along yours in a proper good-luck-kiss, which only makes for a string of spit to connect the two of you when you part. You breathe hard, chest rising and falling from thrill as you search his expression. There’s a glow of love-sickness in his eyes.

You try to milk more attention. “I don’t know if I can…” you begin, alluding to how shy you’re gonna be in front of all these people.

“Oh, don’t start that shit, you’re gonna be fine.” he dismisses, seeing right through you and shrugging you off him so you get it’s time to stop being clingy. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He plucks his helmet up, and rounds his body to place it on his head while you reluctantly leave him.

When it’s time to start the race, you hold up two bandanas—donated by some guys trying to buy you drinks—and Rafe scoffs to himself, patting himself on the back for being such a genius. “Who wouldn’t be lookin’ at you?” he thinks, while he revs his bike. You even give the crowd a little shake, your girls strapped in your bikini top swinging teasingly right before you set them off with the bow of your bandanas and the low dip of your arch. Rafe could’ve sworn one guy glanced over his shoulder to check out your ass bent over because he lost control of his steering for a second after. The race was on, and you did your job exactly how your boyfriend wanted you to.

Some kook with too much time on his hands made his way through the crowd to invite himself into your atmosphere, watching you as you eagerly await Rafe’s return and your signal to drop the flags for the winner.

A voice too close to your ear alerts you, resulting in a minute jolt of your body when he speaks. “What are you doing after this?”

Brows furrow as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Oh, uh, I dunno right now.” you reply, but you’re not showing interest. It would depend on Rafe’s victory. You refocus, keeping an eye on the horizon and the roaring metal of competitive bikes. Rejoining the crowd’s enthusiasm, you react with them when someone wipes out.

“Me and the boys were gonna head to a kegger in the boneyard. You should come.” he tells you. Again, too close for your liking. He’s not particularly bad-looking, or grabby, but you don’t like how he’s standing right next to you and stooping to speak in your ear.

You face him again to respond, but the race takes your attention away, shutting your mouth to whirl around just in time to see Rafe drive back into view, sand kicking up behind his wheel.

After a close call, he wins, and when it’s safe, the adoring crowd cheers as it floods the scene to congratulate the riders. You’re one of them, beelining to Rafe without a second thought. He’s discarded his helmet, tossing it haphazardly to the sand as he meets you.

“Ah, there’s my trophy.” he says, hands clamping onto your waist to lift you from the ground. You squeal with delight, bracing on his shoulders and kicking your feet up. Slowly he lowers you until you can wrap your arms around his neck. He’s hot and sweaty, and smells like it too, inhaling his scent deeply as you embrace him and he spins you around. You’ve completely forgotten about that kook you left behind.

“Did so good, precious, did exactly what I told you to.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, whipping his bike jacket off behind him while you lead him by his jaw deeper into his place.

“Mhm, had to give them a show. Like you said.” you exhale, nodding fervently as you press yourself to him, desperate for some friction.

“Didn’t I say you’d be fine? Huh? What’d I say?” he goads, and stoops, signaling you to jump into his arms. He catches your legs, securing them around his waist before his hand cups your backside and his other pins you to him by the back of your neck.

“I did so good!” you reply, a little perkier than you’d meant to. It breaks him out into a grin against you, and he snickers through his nose. Bringing you to his bedroom, he settles your back onto the bed.

Lips locked, and bodies tangling together, he struggles to find a spare second to keep talking, “Gonna give me my prize? You gonna put out for the winner?” His hips surge, and a familiar hard outline sweeps across the crotch of your denim.

You nod, poking your tongue out in concentration as you help him to undress fully, and you wiggle out of your booty shorts. The peek of your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed, and Rafe’s lips overlays yours, sucking on the pink tip there toyingly. You relax into it, untensing them to melt into a real kiss as the tip of something else nudges against your sex. Already wet and aching from all the teasing today, you go limp at the promise of what’s to come. Bulging mushroom head lazily thumbing in and out of your slit makes your head throw back and jerk. “Rafe…” you whine. Sodden lips mouth at your cheek and jaw, working their way down to make out with your neck as his hips shallowly rut.

Ringed fingers clutch your face, tucking your chin in the web of his index and thumb. It faces you to him, and you look up at him with doe eyes and pretty brows in an upturn. He wants to watch your reactions as he pushes in deeper and deeper, finally sheathing as you cry out. It’s a stingy stretch, and he can see your want for it in the roll of your eyes and the flinch of your delicate expression. “Yeah, baby, gimme that trophy. That’s right.”