#It's all empty and dull

[whspermy-name]

Bored bored bored bored

[chickenscribbles]

Everything functions perfectly fine without you.

[starry-sophrosyne]

I have zero clue if I got the colors right, but drawing these portraits is a lot of fun lmaoo

Also added the slight headcanon that after returning from being abducted, the only thing Anton had of that place was a purple ribbon he ties his hair with, the memories long faded, but he can't bring himself to get rid of it.

Alright, that's all I got, back to the rabbit hole I go, hope ya'll like it! :D

HERMIT. HERMITTT YOU COOKED HOLY SHIT. I CANT TELL YOU HOW ACCURATE THIS IS TO MY PINTEREST BOARD FOR HIM OMG THE LONG RED HAIR AND THE GREY EYES??? YOU COOKEDDDD YOU COOKED SO HARD.

@pen--anon @sopping-wet-cat-wizard LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT OUR DOOMED LITTLE BOY OH MY GOD. THE PURPLE RIBBON??CRUSHED. IM CRUSHED. I'M- AUGHGHHHASDKHHAKSFHK

[spookythesillyfella]

Hey spooky! Question, do you have a persona? (I wanna give you a hug)

hihi !!!

yes i do !!! and thiz ask haz reminded me that itz been AGEZ since i made a reference sheet for him

itz been relatively unchanged since two yearz ago ; just a vampyre cat hybrid thing thatz dead and rotting away – utter nonsense . yknow ?

★ uncensored verz under cut :

[acoldsovereign]

If short on food, is she willing to eat another race?

{{ Oh, this is probably my fault--whoops! But, thank you for the fun question!

The reason why I say "probably" is because I have this tendency to have a set idea for my muse (in regards to personality, worldbuilding, lore, plots, etc) and I don't write it down in detail through my RPs, even though I have mental and physical notes. I'm gonna make a pledge right here and now to not do that anymore.

Anyway.

Maiz's first inclination is to eat other Races.

Her preferences are: the spines, brains, livers, kidneys (assuming the Race has them or a close equivalent), while her drinks are their blood and very rarely, their cerebral fluid. Culturally, this was done alongside the primary diet which included the Saiyan equivalent of grains, fruits, dairies, meat, alcohol. . . you get the idea. Post Genocide, Maiz solely ate other Races and continues to, in most verses/situations.

She's fully capable of eating food-food, though, if the option is there. Through threads, I've discovered she's alright with coffee and teas. Water is fine, too--it just has a weak taste to her.

[varjopeura]

.

[pinkskiddo]

I feel like the best kind of depiction of halloween in movies and tv is when the set is absolutely covered in homey halloween. I'm talking warm/natural lighting, bats and spiders and pumpkins everywhere, fun decorations in every shot, even the scary decorations are good if paired next to the other properly.

Some pumpkins thrown around, sparse bats and cobwebs, and harsh, sterile lighting is the worst. It makes the set and scene feel more like an office manager's idea of what's appropriate to decorate in the workplace, not an actual real person having fun and enjoying the holiday. It's a bad look and feel. Give me a vomit of fun and warmth over it any day

[zombienarc]

-

[diaryofanormalkid]

K but when. It feels like the rapture will come before this happens so lol

“Someday, someone is going to look at you with a light in their eyes you’ve never seen, they’ll look at you like you’re everything they’ve been looking for their entire lives. Wait for it.”

— Unknown

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

It had never once before this very moment occured to me that the prison pits might've been dark. Idk how I was picturing them, but the lighting had never really factored in

[hoziersredguitar]

reread all my poems and wip drafts again and I feel human for the first time in months

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ fratboy!gojo had been burning a hole through you with his stare all night. you'd been laughing with some random guy, acting like gojo wasn't even there. besides, the way that dude was looking at you? ew, he though.

you batted your lashes, tilting your head with what you hoped was an innocent smile, up at the stranger. one hand twisted a strand of your hair, the other clutched a half-empty plastic cup — a drink gojo hadn't bothered to get you.

honestly, it was grating on him, having to watch you like that. watching some other guy who was practically drooling over you. so, yeah, in his slightly-messed-up mind, his actions were totally justified.

now, your gaze was fixed upwards again — but this time, it was on him. where it belonged, in his opinion. your lashes were slick with tears, mascara smudged artfully across your cheeks, your hair mussed from his fingers tangling in it.

he'd cornered you in the bathroom, cutting the ridiculously long line and just barging in (scaring the absolute shit out of you without so much as a word). but hey, it was his frat house. his rules.

"j— jesus," he grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head. "you say you're virgin, huh? taking my cock like a damn slut, cherry." your hands were busy too, one sliding up and down his length, the other cradling his heavy balls.

you were practically choking on him, your moans and whimpers swallowed by his thick shaft. at first, he'd actually tried. tried to be gentle, remembering that you'd only he one other time you'd only done this one other time — with him.

but patience had gone out the window fast. now, he was using your face, each thrust of his hips sending the blunt head of his cock slamming against the back of your throat.

gojo thought he'd died and gone to heaven. your mouth was so hot and wet, eagerly engulfing every inch he offered. "you— you're doing s'good," he choked out, his jaw tight. (you might've heard a tooth crack.)

you were gagging, and a part of him was terrified you'd actually throw up, but damn, you were determined. and who was he to stop you? after all, the initial idea had been to take things slow, maybe learn a few new things. this definitely counted as new.

"w— was it worth it?" gojo asks, likely rhetorical. "whoring off to some idiot like that, huh?"

drool slicked your chin, followed by a stream of tears. your cheeks hollowed with each deep stroke, feeling the frantic throb beneath your tongue, the way he strained against your mouth. the pressure built, a dull ache spreading in the back of your throat as he thrust deeper.

you didn't get a warning, just a slight tremor in his grip on your hair before his heavy balls clenched, and he spilled thick, hot seed into your mouth.

it caught you off guard, but what really threw him was the way you swallowed every last drop. every single bit.

his eyes were wide as he helped you stand, watching you brush off your sore knees.

"ch— cherry, you know you didn't have to... i mean, i should've pulled out, i'm sorry—"

you give him a lop-sided grin, "don't be silly. i wanted to."

oh. oh.

gojo might not be your boyfriend, but he sure pressed a soft kiss to your tear-streaked, mascara-smudged cheek like one.

[digitaldiseas3]

dear diary, i feel as though it gets harder and harder to feel anything sometimes 💖 there’s a good bit of frustration between me and my housemates over little things and it all kinda accumulated into one big Thing that is now a Conflict we have to address tomorrow bc we were all too hormonal to have the conversation tonight. and it was bad enough that one of them is staying the night with her girlfriend bc the conflict freaked her out and she didn’t wanna be alone. and i know the other one is probably both anxious and still frustrated/mad over the whole thing. and in the past i totally would have been a wreck over it like i would’ve been super anxious and upset and like. crying myself to sleep. but instead i don’t really feel much of anything! like of course i hope the situation clears up when we talk it through tomorrow but like. that’s about it rn. i feel stuck on the “fine” emotion like a sim. it’s like i can barely even feel stress over school right now even though i know i have a lot that’s really overwhelming. i felt stressed and overwhelmed even earlier today! i felt pissed off and frustrated and petty and bitter earlier! but once i had to slip into my Diplomacy Mode to deescalate the situation, it’s like i can’t turn my emotions back on :P

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Gravity Falls was strange, and the townsfolk even stranger, it seemed.

The twins had been unceremoniously dropped off on the side of the dusty road, the roar of the bus engine fading away as the driver wordlessly drove off without fanfare. The poor man had almost seemed close to tears ever since they had entered the thresholds of this seemingly innocuous town, all too eager to speed off and away while leaving the two children coughing and wheezing in its dust.

It had not even been a full minute since their lackluster drop-off before they became well acquainted with the oddly sociable and irritatingly chatty inhabitants of Gravity Falls. A single conversation with a pair of boisterous policemen already told them all they needed to know about the history of the town, as well as the whereabouts of their Great Uncle Ford.

"The Mystery Shack," the townsfolk had called it. It seemed as though their distant uncle had earned himself somewhat of a reputation amongst the locals. He was the town cryptid; the ever elusive mad scientist that lived in the outskirts of town in this so called "Mystery Shack". No one really knew who he really was; but everyone knew exactly who he was.

So, when the twins found themselves stood hand in hand in front of the rickety old shack, they hadn't really known what to expect when door had swung open with a deafening slam.

He was a strange man, their Great Uncle Ford. He seemed nothing like the cackling looney lab-coated madman they had imagined from what meager hushed information the townsfolk had offered them. It seemed as though the tales of a scientist gone mad that experimented on stray children that wandered into his spooky "Mystery Shack" was but a cruel rumor.

He mostly just seemed unhealthy, to be honest. His sickly, pale frame utterly drowned in the thick red woolen sweater that practically seemed to hang off of his lanky body like a second flap of skin. It made him look almost child-like, like a kid trying on their parents clothes; which somewhat diluted the intimidating effects of his looming height.

Although, the townsfolk's apparent fear of their Great Uncle Ford seemed to have some merit.

For one, Grunkle Ford really didn't seem all too human. He wasn't inhumane, per se; just, not entirely himself, if that made any sense. Looking at him was like looking at an incomplete puzzle; or looking at someone who you remember all your life wearing a hat, suddenly coming to work one day without one, and it takes a little too long for you to remember what is missing.

It was like Grunkle Ford had lost pieces of himself. Somewhere, to someone. His eyes seemed... almost empty. They were a little too dull and a little too opaque, lacking the lively shine of life everyone else seemed to have.

Another thing was that Grunkle Ford wasn't entirely alone. There was... someone else. The twins couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but they could feel its stare, whatever or whoever it was. They could almost feel its stare, a non-existent eye trailing a weird prickling sensation across their skin. The twins recalled the words of one of the townsfolk, a tall bestacled man with haunted blind eyes; although unseeing they could have sworn his gaze never seemed to leave them, as all he said was:

"Don't catch IT staring at you"

The twins had an odd feeling that IT was looking at them right now.

They didn't even notice when the pale bony hand of Grunkle Ford suddenly reached into their personal space, barely registering his words at all, much less the extra fingers that adorned each of his rough, worn palms.

They didn't take the hand.

If the twins had thought the outside of the shack looked decrepit, the inside seemed somehow even worse.

Every inch of exposed wall, ceiling or floor were utterly covered by sprawling symbols, summoning circles, and indecipherable words that seemed to be in an entirely different language than any the twins knew. They overlapped and tangled into one another into big, messy, red splotches of clustered nothings.

There were notes, diagrams on ripped pieces of aged looking paper scattered everywhere, with hardly any room for post-it notes squeezed wherever there was room. Lit and unlit candles were placed absolutely everywhere; either hidden in the dark corners or openly stood in the middle of the floor; sometimes in a circle, sometimes not. The melted fallen wax had coagulated into a hard white mess onto the floor; the smell of cheap vanilla scented candles intermingling with the smell of halloween fake blood (and Dipper was convince there had to be some real blood there, too) to create a sour concoction that stung their noses unpleasantly.

The shack was sparsely furnished with rarely any furniture at all. Not even a couch, the tables and chairs simply pushed to the walls to make more space for the endlessly swirling symbols and pentagrams. The twins were hesitant of stepping on any of the summoning circles, carefully sidestepping the candles and walking over the line of the pentagrams.

The attic, where they would be residing, was not much better.

Maybe they did end up in a mad scientist's house, after all.

[kismetlotts]

cw: mentions of oral sex, first date with Simon Riley, Simon is very awkward, drabble

Simon Riley being such an awkward and blunt individual when it comes to dating- it freaks you out because you don't know where you stand. In the SAS, Simon was a cold-hearted bugger, even to his own team. There was little they knew about him and he liked to keep it that way because when things were private they were easier to deal with. What would the point even be filling his teammates, co-workers, in on private matters?

He was impassive. Socially awkward but not in the shy, anxious way people would assume. He could never read the room or bring himself to give a shit, he did what he wanted and took little to no notice of what others though. It sounded fine, and for the most part it was.

But dating was fucking hard- being paired up with real whiny, bitchy women who would just complain over every minuscule thing- fucking hell, he wasn't a goddamn therapist. He didn't have time for people like that- his job showed him how short and vague life can be and he wasn't letting anyone waste his valuable minutes. He hated dating, hated putting himself out there just to come back home and sight in relief at the emptiness- he hated everything about it until he went out with you.

Your first online interaction was a mess of you trying to use some god-awful pick-up line that everyone aside from Simon could comprehend. 'What that mean?' and 'Ok.' Being your only two responses and what the hell, you were intrigued. He was just so- cutting? So rambunctiously dull in a careless manner, you couldn't help but wonder what he was life in real life. And after a few more messages back and fourth, there was no need to wonder anymore.

You drove to the restaurant you were meeting at yourself as he didn't even offer to come pick you up. His overwhelming chivalry and charm, clearly seeping in through his actions already! But honestly you were glad that he didn't. It gave you an exit just in case the date was bad and you just had to leave. Driving there yourself on the first date wasn't anything out of the norm anyway but you were used to men offering most of the time.

You greeted each other at the entrance and you were not expecting from a few blurry selfies of him to be so tall and jacked. Muscles only just squeezing out the armholes of his shirt as he nodded to you and walked inside. Not opening the door for your or even bothering to hold it after himself- nope. Just walking inside as casual as he can be; you couldn't contain your laugh.

He ordered what he wanted to eat, letting you order what you liked as well and the two of you finally got to talking. You shared things about yourself, listened to his deep, gruffly voice share things about him and honestly- it was probably the weirdest yet the best date you had ever been on.

You weren't used to people being like this and it made you surprisingly comfortable and not so on edge as usual. There had been dates that you had gone on that you thought were great; you felt a connection, they said they reciprocated but after it was over ghosted and blocked you for some reason. It hurt you every time and with Simon, you felt like that wouldn't be the case. He seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't mess about and wouldn't still be at the table if he felt nothing.

The food came and Simon dug straight into his steak. Your cheeks warming slightly at all the people sat around the two of you, eating softly, chuckling and sipping on red wine meanwhile Simon just enjoyed himself. His chin was dripping from the juice, fingers messy because despite the knife and fork he made an attempt to use- it was just easier with his hands. Deep brown eyes catching your own and blinking in confusion. His chest fluttered at the sound of your chuckle, a small smirk inching onto his face and he hadn't felt this relaxed with someone in months. He hadn't felt able to be himself.

The dinner went on as you swallowed and picked at your food, not wanting to scare him away or embarrass yourself which was stupid given how messily and carelessly he ate. You knew he probably wouldn't care at all but still- you did it anyway. Looking up at him as you placed your fork in your mouth, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Fucking hot. The lighting was so warm- and suddenly the room felt burning hot. The electricity between the two of you, high voltage and you bit your bashful smile down. Stomach aching in arousal as he sat back in his chair watching the way your lips chewed and swallowed.

"I want to eat you out."

And you almost choked. It was so calm, so nonchalant as it practically just leaked from his mouth. No awareness, no worry for who else might have heard him say that- simply just placing his cards upon the table and informing you of what he was thinking about. Horror coating his face as he saw you splutter and choke on your words, mouth agape in shock. He didn't mean to say anything wrong- he thought that was how it was supposed to go, was it not?

Handing you a napkin and sitting forward a little more as he apologised with a guilty smile. You shook your head, mind still spinning from his words and body boiling with a newfound sexual desire. Sipping on the glass of your drink to calm yourself as you assured him it was fine, telling him it was no big deal.

But, holy fuck.

[monstersholygrail]

Your Werewolf bf pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt, low growls rumbling in his throat as he tries to gain enough friction to make up for the unbearable barrier of the condom between you. Your laughter mocks him, even as it breaks between your whiny fucked out moans. You clench down, making your hot core even tighter around his massive girth.

Your bf throws his head back, a long howl leaving his throat at the sensation. Yet it’s not enough. In any other case he’d burrow his face into your neck and release his pent up frustration by claiming you and littering your body with his marks. But he can’t even do that.

“Take it off,” he snarls, speaking as much as he can with the muzzle covering his face. The metal soaked with his slobber and drool.

A lazy smile spreads across your lips, your mind registering his words but too lost in the pleasure to fully respond. You can only moan, voice cracking and whimpering as he plows his length into your tight heat. The force jerking your body back with every thrust even as you weakly try and meet them.

“Nyyaaah—hmmm. C-choose o-one— ahh!” You force out between wrecked moans of bliss.

Werewolf bf’s eyes flash dangerously. He leans down, trying to snap his jaw at you, and it only fuels his rage when he remembers he can’t, the muzzle stopping him again. He picks up his pace, his hips a blur as they snap into your weeping cunt. Claws sinking dangerously into your plush hips. You cry out loudly, body warping unnaturally with the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

He watches you carefully, his anger only sharpening his instincts. He knows your every sign like the back of his hand. He knows how good he’s fucking this tight pussy of yours by the way your eyes flutter just as your cunt does around his cock, he knows he’s turned your brain into mush as your lips spew incoherent babble, and he knows you’re about to cum when he feels you clenching around his length as if preparing to milk him dry and force every last drop of his seed into your fertile womb.

“This is your own damn fault, baby. Makin’ me choose the fucking condom!” Your Werewolf bf snaps, his voice raspy with need even as a feral smirk spreads across his face.

He slips out of your spent cunt just as you’re about to fall over the edge and an agonized cry rips through your throat at the loss. The sudden emptiness inside you knocks you off your axis, your body lost in the missing sensation. Werewolf bf doesn’t waste a moment, flexing his hands, and gripping onto the stretchy latex before shredding it to pieces.

Once free from one-half of his torturous confines, Werewolf bf slams his length back inside of you. Relishing in your screams as he splits you open in two on his giant cock. He stays all the way inside you, his fat aching tip grinding against that special spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Every nerve in your body spasms and sparks to life and before you know it your vision is flashing white as your orgasm overtakes you.

Werewolf bf roars as you suck his cock deeper and deeper, practically forcing his knot inside of you and making you whimper at the stretch. Your body violently shakes as cum on his cock, your mind gone as he’s fucked you stupid. He grins down at the sight and it’s that which has him flying over the edge, pumping seemingly endless spurts of his seed as deep inside you as he can get.

Your mind is truly gone as all you’re able to focus on is the sensations buzzing through you and your bf’s hot sweaty body pressed up against you. It’s only soft clinking of metal followed by a dull thud that has your attention returning to this plan of existence. Your eyes flutter open and fall onto Werewolf bf’s discarded muzzle.

His eyes glow with an unspeakable lust as he gazes down at your limp form. A low groan leaves you and you weakly shift to bare your throat for him because one look and you knew. He was gonna fuck you through the night till you repaid him an orgasm for every time he wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh but was denied by the muzzle you say he wear. He slowly hovers over you, his hot breath fanning your neck and sending chills down your spine, letting you know what’s to come.