#oh yeah and spoopy

[spam-caine-askblog]

clowns are scary?...who gave you that idea anyway heres pom, everyone loves pom :)

@triangularitydubs,@phantomgamer77 @minicomics what ya'll think of her?

[ruiiplume]

2023 vs 2012

Miwa by Melodeiia redraw

[604to647]

Red Herring

3.3K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You make Detective Rockford a Halloween costume.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please).  Established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), lingerie, semi-public sex, desk sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV, bad puns, half-assed costumes.

A/N: Since The Rockford Portfolio was born from @mermaidgirl30’s Ocean Challenge this summer, I thought it was only fitting to write the same couple for Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge (as always though, the stories in the collection can be read standalone ☺️)! Tim's hatred of Halloween is heavily influenced by Amy Santiago from Brooklyn 99 🤭🤭 Happy Halloween and spooky season everyone!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘 / Series Masterlist

Tim was right.  Halloween at a police precinct is a mess.

The streets outside are absolute mayhem, crawling with costumed Halloween revelers stumbling and celebrating in various states of undress and inebriation.  No one seems to care that they’re causing a ruckus right outside of a building full of cops.  Even walking up the stairs to the main doors, you had found yourself side stepping at least two incidents of vomit, and you still feel a little worried about leaving the trio of drunk Power Puff girls on the bench outside even though they had giggled that they were fine when you asked.  There’s no safer place for them to be, you suppose.

The inside of the precinct is no less chaotic than it is outside.  It’s exactly as Tim had described.  You chuckle to yourself as you pass a couple of patrolmen headed out as Jedi Knights and think back to your conversation earlier this month when Tim told you he would be working on Halloween.

Curled up in Tim’s lap, you’re scrolling through TikTok as he watches some police procedural on the TV that he keeps grumbling at when you come across a few spoopy videos, “Do you think you might want to do a couples costume for Halloween, Detective?��

Tim actually grimaces.  He hates Halloween with a passion, “Oh Shutterbug, I’m so sorry – I have to work Halloween.  I work every Halloween.”

“Every Halloween?”

“Yeah - ugh. Halloween is honestly such a gong show.  People think costumes make them invincible for some reason,” he closes his eyes and scowls at the memory of Halloweens past.  “Every patrolman works overtime and is out on the streets breaking up fights, putting people in the drunk tank, getting drunk drivers off the streets.”

He’s not done; Tim brings his paw of a hand to his face and massages it in irritation, “The entire detective squad comes in to help process every idiot that’s brought in: DWI.  Underage Drinking.  Disorderly Conduct.  Assault.  Vandalism.  Trespassing.  Theft.  You name it, gorgeous.  Halloween is a fucking mess.”

You chuckle a little, you’re not used to seeing your normally unflappable detective so out of sorts, nevermind at the mere thought of a children’s celebration.

“Does everyone hate Halloween like you?”

Tim cracks a smile at this, “No one hates things the way I hate things.”  This has you giggling – Tim can be terribly grumpy.  “I guess not everyone.  The precinct gets decorated and there is a costume contest.”

“Oh!” You perk up at this, “And they arrest people in costume?”

“Might as well,” Tim’s face screws up in annoyance again, “It’s not like anyone respects the uniform on Halloween.  You have better luck getting compliance as Godzilla.”

For a second, you imagine Tim sulking behind his desk, filling out public intoxication reports dressed as Batman and you have to stifle a snort of laughter, “But not you though?  You don’t dress up?”

“Nope.”

“What’s the costume contest prize?” your eyes twinkle.

“No, nope,” Tim kisses the nose that you’ve scrunched up in mischief, “What do you plan on doing for Halloween, Shutterbug?”

You look thoughtful, the truth is you’re not really up for anything too exciting this year, “I’m probably going to volunteer at the library to give out candy, then I told the girls I’d meet up with them at a pub for some food and drinks.  Then they’ll head over to a bar or club or something that’s hosting a Halloween party and I don’t really want to do that.  Maybe I could come hang out with you?”

“Of course you can, baby.  But just be prepared, it’s going to be messy.”

The bullpen is loud – every desk is occupied by a dog tired, costumed detective taking down statements, yelling into their phone, or typing aggressively away on their computer – some of them doing all three.  The holding cell is overflowing, and the occupants are either wildly indignant about their detainment or completely unphased and appear to be continuing whatever reveries that had brought them in from behind bars.  There is no in between.

The commotion is so much more unruly than it usually is; it might be unsettling, except for how comical it is to see Tim’s colleagues in various costumes doing their very serious jobs. At a quick glance you see: a bumblebee, a Pikachu, two pirates, an Aquaman, and three Howls from Howl’s Moving Castle.

The juxtaposition of these outfits to the cacophony in the room is hilarious.  You spot and wave to Tim’s partner, Detective Arnold Calloway, who’s dressed as Elvis on your way to Tim’s office.

Tim’s door is open but before you announce yourself, you take a moment to ogle your handsome boyfriend as he types, brows furrowed in concentration at his computer.  He’s not in costume but you can’t complain – Tim's usual crisp white dress shirt stretches taut across his broad frame, his hunched shoulders restrained slightly by the unforgiving leather of his gun holster. His tie is loose but it’s the only thing that’s loose - Tim’s rolled up shirt sleeves strain to contain his beefy arms, and from where you stand, you can see his exposed forearms flex tightly with every furious punch to the keys on his keyboard.  Even without a costume, Tim Rockford looks like a superhero.

“Happy Halloween, Detective.”

The smile that breaks across Tim’s face when he looks up and sees you is nothing short of breathtaking, it sends a blooming warmth through your chest that quickly winds its way down between your legs.

“Happy Halloween, Shutterbug.  How’s your night going so far?”

“Pretty fun!  The library had so many kids coming in – I gave out so much candy!  And dinner was good – the girls say hi.  What about you, baby?”  You walk around Tim’s desk and lean down to place a sweet kiss to his lips before massaging his weary shoulders.

Tim sighs, “As good as can be expected for this godforsaken holiday.  I’ve been to the hospital for interviews twice, and now I’m processing a mountain of misdemeanors.”

You ghost your lips behind Tim’s ear and smile when the little puff of air you blow makes him groan.  Planting chaste kisses to the back of his neck as you continue kneading the hard muscles of his back, you chirp mischievously, “I have something that could make your evening more fun, Detective.”

Tim leans back and spins his chair around to face you, smirking, “Oh yeah?  What’s that, Shutterbug?”

Chuckling, you reach into your purse and take out a headband with two springs coming out the top like antennae and hold it out to Tim.

“What’s this?”

You point to the tops of the springs: on one you’ve glued an empty packet of Trident gum, and to the other is affixed a small dog toy in the shape of a shoe that you had found at the dollar store.  Giggling, you place the headband over Tim’s head and tuck the ends behind his ears, “It’s your costume, Tim.  You’re a gumshoe.”

Tim groans and drops his face into his palm.  The resulting bounce of the little objects over his head makes you giggle even harder, “See?  You were already dressed up and you didn’t even know it.”  You wave you hand over Tim’s body.

Detective Rockford peeks through his fingers and when he sees your impish grin and how much joy your mischief is bringing you, he can’t help but grin himself, “Alright, gorgeous.  Where’s your costume, then?”

Delighted at how easily Tim’s given in to your silliness, you reach back into your purse and pull out your own headband – a red one with similar antennae to match his black, but at the end of each of your springs is a little plastic fish, swaying and jiggling erratically as you slip the band onto you head and jovially announce, “A red herring for my dashing gumshoe to chase!"

Tim lets out a low gruff of a laugh, one that crinkles the eyes that are already always soft for you, his smile as relaxed as his shoulders now are, “Where’s the rest of your costume?  Shouldn’t you be wearing red?”  He teasingly does the same waving motion you did to him earlier over your closed trench coat jacket.

If possible, your smile gets even wider when you reply, “I am!  You want me to show you?”

“Sure, baby.”  To Tim’s surprise, instead of opening your jacket, you coyly saunter over to his office door, closing then locking it.  On your way back to him, you start to undo the knot of your jacket belt, letting the lapels of your jacket fall open to reveal the sexist red lace lingerie set Tim’s ever seen in his life.  As you slide between Tim and his desk, perching gingerly on the edge, you snicker at your boyfriend’s drooling expression. 

“Trick or Treat, Detective Rockford?” you flirt, fingers hooked under the warm leather straps of Tim’s gun holster, lightly tugging to beckon him closer.  He obeys.

Hypnotized, Tim slowly brushes his fingers over the frill of the delicate fabric that lays tantalizingly over your delicious curves – leaving goosebumps on your supple skin everywhere his hands graze, and even places they don’t.  He unwittingly licks his lips at your pert nipples, already at attention and tenting the crimson red floral lace that hug your tits so prettily – Tim can’t help himself; leaning forward in his chair, he takes one in his mouth.

The soft gasp that you let escape exhales to a throaty groan as you feel Tim’s hands travel down your body; they come to a momentary rest at your hips - tugging teasingly at the ruffled skirt of the garter belt before trailing down the straps.  As he rubs the bands that loop around your mid thighs between his thick fingers, Tim chuckles into your chest, “Is that what you wore at the library, baby?”

You giggle uncontrollably and shake your head, little fish above your head dancing wildly on their springs as you push back a little to show Tim how you’re still wearing your modest, library appropriate red dress, but that it’s been unbuttoned and left open under your trench coat.  Eyebrow cocked in amusement, Tim hooks his fingers into and pulls down the cups of your bra before diving back in, and you think you hear him mumble something like Dirty girl, through his mouthful of your breasts.

“You never answered my question – trick or treat, Detective Rockford?”

With some reluctance, Tim parts from the softness of your tits to lean back in his chair, ogling your near naked form shamelessly while he pretends to contemplate his response.  Finally, he scootches his chair forward and cups one of his powerful hands beneath your boobs and presses so that you lean back – his other pries open your legs so you can accommodate the expansive width of his shoulders.

“I think you already chose ‘treat’ for me, Shutterbug.”

Your girlish squeal as Tim lays a sweet kiss to your clit through the thin fabric of your panties is louder than you’d like and you quickly cover your mouth with a hand in order to muffle it.  As Detective Rockford open mouth kisses your panty clad cunt, your eyes roll to the back of your head and the flatness of your palm becomes insufficient to contain your escalating moans – when Tim pulls the gusset of your underwear to the side, the snap of cool air hitting the wetness of your exposed core pulls a cry from your throat that can only be stifled by biting down on the heel of your thumb.

The sting from your teeth causes you to buck into Tim’s face and from that moment forth, there’s no holding back his animalistic lust.  Tim licks fat stripe after fat stripe through your folds to the tip of your hardened nub – every new path made by his tongue dug deep and true.  Your pooled arousal is collected and swirled over your sweetest dips and waves, then sucked and savoured in his mouth like his favourite whiskey.  It might actually be.  Tim’s own groans and growls at the sweetness of your taste vibrate right into your cunt and straight to the tightening band beneath your belly.

Eyes taking in the lascivious sight above him, Tim’s dick strains painfully in his pants: his pretty girl is laid near bare and gorgeous, tits bouncing while her face screws up in pleasure, mouth stuffed with her own fist. You're a true heaven that contrasts starkly to the hell of mundane paperwork that Tim thought would make up the bulk of his Halloween shift, still sitting next to you on the very same desk you’re currently writhing on.

With a feral grunt, Tim tongue fucks your slit while his nose and the elastic hem of your pulled back panties work your slippery clit in tandem.  He builds and builds until he knows you can’t take anymore, then pushes you over the edge with the tenor of his baritone command to come.

You crest with a wild cry that’s barely contained by your now aching and wet hand, drool running down your wrist as your body shudders with wave after wave of indescribable pleasure.   

Only when he feels your lithe body settle does Tim rise to his feet and undo his belt.  Lips and facial scruff still shiny with your release, he grins a wolfish grin, “Now it’s time for 'trick', gorgeous.”

Kissing you roughly, Tim busies himself with pulling out his leaking cock as you return his affections just as fiercely, spurned on by the taste of you in your own mouth.  He pulls back to clean his face with the back of his arm, and you whimper when you unsuccessfully chase after his lips.

“No need to be greedy, Shutterbug. Your Detective is going to fuck you now,” smirks Tim, notching himself at your entrance and sliding in with ease.

The heft of him still leaves you breathless every time.  When you look up at Tim, you find his face relaxed in a look of reverence that tells you he feels the same about the welcome of your warm walls.

“Going to fuck you hard and fast, 'kay baby?  Don’t have much time.  Can’t have anyone coming in and seeing my pretty girl split on my cock” Tim’s mouth slots over yours and he drinks in your moans at his dirty promise.  One of Tim’s meaty hands grips your hip so hard you know he’ll leave a bruising imprint of his desire for you to find tomorrow, the other grabs your lacy garter belt like a cowboy would the reins of his horse; as he starts to ride you, every punishing drive of Tim’s cock leaves you marveling that the delicate fabric doesn’t rip to shreds under his efforts.

“Fuck me, Detective,” you breath, nipping and sucking along Tim’s strong jaw to behind his earlobe where he’s most sensitive.  Sticking out your tongue to lick down the column of Tim’s throat, your mouth jolts against Tim’s bobbing Adam’s apple as he continues to thrust into you like a man possessed.  The scrape of your teeth and the soothing lave of you tongue over the responsive skin at the base of his neck, cause Tim to groan, low and throaty.  When your fingers thread through his soft curls and yank down so to expose more of his neck to your sinful mouth, he retaliates by reaching for your breasts, roughly kneading and worshiping before directing his attention to your nipples.

Without letting up on your sopping hole, Tim rolls and pinches, pulls and tweaks your pert peaks, all while gritting out dirty words of praise:

Pretty thing came to a police precinct tonight to get fucked, didn’t she?

So fucking hot in your little outfit, gorgeous just for me.

This pussy's made my whole fucking night, baby.

You can only hope that your near pornographic wails are adequately buffered by the thickness of Tim’s chest, as you bury your face against the wall of him.  The combination of your tight and slick cunt and the added friction of your panties, now soaked with your cream and pressed taut against his cock, has Tim on the expressway; when his pace starts to grow frantic, he leaves your perfect tits to press his thumb down on your clit.

“Oh fuck, Tim!  Fuck, I’m going to c-” Tim’s solid and comforting circles on your crying nub are enough to send you over the edge again.  Your heaving breaths against his neck and the fluttering of your walls as they clamp down on his length send Tim barreling to join you soon after.

Hands still in Tim’s hair, you card through his dampened waves as the two of you rest forehead-to-forehead, exchanging tender butterfly kisses and soft words of devotion during the comedown from your twin highs.

Knock, knock.

“Rockford.”  It’s Arnie.

Tim slips out of you and tucks himself back in before walking to his door, waiting with his hand on the handle to make sure you’ve had time to right and button up your dress before he opens the door to see what his partner wants.

“Rockford, do you have that repor- What’s that?” Detective Arnold Calloway’s eyes widen and he points to the still bobbling springs on the headband that Tim never took off his head.

Tim has no words.

Your hand flies to your mouth and you barely contain the hysterical giggle that threatens to escape.  Arnie looks past Tim right at you, and his face breaks out in the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  His eyes dance with mirth and you can’t help but blurt out the answer to his unspoken question, “He’s a gumshoe!!!”  The two of you shriek in laughter as Tim stands stiffly, eyes closed in disbelief, willing himself to disappear. 

You bound up to the door and loop one arm around Tim’s waist, the other you arch to point to your own headband, beaming, “I’m the red herring in his case!”

Arnie nearly drops the files in his arms to hold his stomach as he cackles, “Perfect costumes!  Never thought I’d see the day when Rockford dressed up for Halloween!  Forget the report – I need a picture.”

“No pictures,” Tim practically bellows as he storms back to his desk in a huff, headband adornments swinging wildly.

Winking at Detective Calloway, you whisper, “I’ll get a picture,” before you walk back into Tim’s office and settle in on the couch.  Tucking your legs under your bum, you pull out the book you checked out of the library earlier before looking up to your sweet boyfriend who's gone back to typing his reports as if he wasn't just ravaging you on that same desk minutes earlier, “Love you, Detective Rockford.”

Tim glances up at the sweet angel who willingly keeps him company on this horrid night and makes it decidedly less horrid; giving you a soft smile, he winks, “Love you more, Shutterbug.”

The Monday following Halloween, you’re putting the finishing touches on dinner when Tim comes home, carrying a large box that he deposits on the kitchen counter with a look of pride and amusement.

“What’s this?” you ask with curiosity, giving Tim a deep welcome home kiss before opening the package to discover a case of wine.

To your gleeful howl of laughter, Tim tells you that he won the precinct Halloween costume contest this year. 

You’re looking through the box, picking up the bottles and reading the labels.  Malbec.  Gamay. Beaujolais.  Barbarossa.  You take out a bottle of Nebbiolo that you think might work with dinner and exclaim in delight, “Congratulations, Detective!  This is a great prize!”

Tim sweeps you into his arms and presses his lips to your pretty pout for a searing kiss, murmuring, “I got a better one right here.”

Visual aids for this instalment:

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

THE LADDDDD

Happy Ferguson Friday (the 13th), y'all!

He's so kind to us, making sure we don't feel lonely ♥️

[WARNING: minor glitching]

@mysteriouslybluepirate @born-on-a-beach-teach @gydima @drlokiren

[naffeclipse]

I absolutely adore every AU you come up with, but I was actually curious if you had already or were considering writing a traditional DCAxReader? Hopefully I can kick this art block soon because there is so much fanart I want to draw of your stories :) Hope your week is going well! (besides the roof disaster ^^;;;)

On another note... AUs are my brainrot and I keep thinking about that post about the large bed... and spoopy ghosts. Clipgeist? No running away from something that can follow you to the ends of the Earth. Poor Y/Ns just can't catch a break lol

I have a few canon stories with the DCA x Reader on my Ao3 but nothing as grand or long as my AUs! I do have a 'canon' story plotted but I don't know when I'll write it. Hopefully one day!

Ah, that's so exciting! I hope you can chisel that art block down hehe 

It's going good (aside from the roof ;-;) I have this week of school before we go on break for Thanksgiving and it can't come soon enough!

Shaking your hand so hard rn!! I love AUs! And a spooky ghost one? Oh ho, I've always wanted to write a domestic monster scenario!

Perhaps Y/N moves into an old, old house with steep roofs, pointed arches above the windows and doors, and a lovely porch. It's two and a half stories tall (the half story is attic space under the roof rafters) with a four-story central spired tower! All dark wood and even darker interiors. You can't desire if it's Dracula's castle or a fairytale home for the happily ever-after-ed prince and princess. It's even got a secret underground tunnel! What more do you need when flipping a home? You love restoration and you intend to keep all its gothic charm while updating it to be, well, livable.

It's also incredibly cheap! Like, stupid cheap, for something that should be incredibly pricey for its prestige style and historical value. Not that you've ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even you have second thoughts before ultimately snatching up the house key.

The first night is always unsettling—maybe you hear a voice whisper in your ear despite it being dead silent and there's not a soul for miles, but you'll brush that off as getting spooked by old ghost stories your brain conjures up within the ornate decorated rooms.

From there, things get stranger and stranger still. Your paintbrush is moved and you know you didn't set it there because of the wet paint dripping onto the floor. The electricity is ever fickle, turning off at the most opportune moments during the night, like when you swear you saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway, all thin and scraggly with a ghostly smile and an inhuman head framed with wavering energy that almost seems to glow like embers in the dark!

Still, you continue your repairs and restorations, sometimes softly talking to yourself out loud and talking to the house like it's a wounded animal you intend to restore back to its fittest with all the love you can pour out of your heart. Places need love, too.

The most obnoxious thing is that you can't access the tower—the door is always locked, and no matter what key you try, it refuses to budge. You don't dare risk causing damage by prying it open, but you swear you'll get into that tower one day. There's got to be treasure inside with how mysteriously it stands, just out of your reach. Though, you've mostly put it aside for now. Whenever you jingle keys in the lock, you swear you hear a voice grow angry with you, and the hallway becomes so cold you can see your breath.

So, yeah, you're saving that for later.

The pivotal moment of you even considering a haunting is one night when you find yourself overwhelmed and stressed from the ever-growing list of chores and how everything is falling apart faster than you can fix it. You dissolve on the living room floor into thick tears. You're usually so put together, even when alone. You hate crying. There's no one to hold you together except yourself, so why fall apart in the first place?

Your little moment of getting it out is interrupted when a quilt falls over your shoulders. A soft, heavy quilt of midnight skies and dotted pale blue stars that was never in this room.

You leap to your feet, quilt falling away, and call out in classic horror victim fashion, "Who's there?" but no one answers. In frozen terror, you stare at the room, expecting something, anything to jump out or scream at you, but it's so, so quiet. All is still, like apologetic comfort.

That couldn't have happened. No draft, no forgetfulness could explain how a quilt was draped over you as if by a concerned friend.

You stare at the quilt and decide that you've had a long day. You go to your room, unable to relax even once you're under the covers, feeling something cold and misty above your bed.

When you wake in the morning, that starry quilt is draped over your lying form. You did not put it there.

Something or someone else tucked it around you.

[py-dreamer]

Long hair Macaque, my beloved-

No but srsly, one of my favourite designs is just long hair mac and in this au Mammy's figure is just mostly hair.

I was trying to recreate this screenshot:

Obviously there's some difference like I tend to draw a bit chibi (big heads) and I didn't want to make Mac's hair THAT voluminous-

I wanted to achieve sort of a gypsy vibe with these little skrimblos

AND THEN I FOUND THESE:

And I could NOT pass it up.

So yeah...

Oh! And I also gave the sparkly drip to their ears

(Sh!t I just realised, I forgot the shadow creatures... I'll see if I can add them in later)

I COULDN'T for the life of me figure out the hundred yard stare to match with Mac's sharp eyes (how I draw him) and not make it look goofy so I made them spoopy and glowing instead

I sadly don't have much to say about Bai He here since her black hair didn't leave that much room for shading in a darkened environment (I'm so sorry) And this piece was to show off Mac's design more anyway (I promise Bai He will get her spotlight)

(Also Bai He, nor Mk nor Macaque wears shoes. Wukong is the only one in the family who does and I find that funny)

But oh! The hair? Here comes the fun part

(No his hair isn't purple, I just used purple to shade here)

You see I WAS going to use black hair for this photo but i soon realised how much of a pain it was just to shade it (cause i couldn't) and I was just WISHING I could use his white fur instead

And then I realised....

The white fur could be his winter coat.

Some animal's shed their fur in the winter (I think some rabbits do) and grow a new coat, occasionally with a different colour.

Therefore I could make the white fur the winter coat and during the story, his fur could be black to show how much time has passed since Bai He last saw her Baba...

Mwuahahahahahhahahahaha I'm so evil

(I was very proud of myself)

(Also I know macaques don't grow winter coats but just let me have this one ok?)

And why doesn't Bai He have white fur as well then? Well maybe she's just a different kind of monkey or perhaps it's just an age thing.

Funnily enough, when I showed this to my friend, she said he looked heavenly which is funny cause. As much as I love him, Macaque is a smug bastard and he knows it.

Like I know a lot of it was due to trauma BUT STILL

I just personally dislike how the fandom sometimes makes him seem like he could do no wrong and he is "uwu delicate babygirl that needs to be protected at all costs" when this boi is fockin FERAL man.

So despite taking a bit of a back seat in the main plot for this au, Macaque is still a smug bastard behind the scenes as much as he is a good dad

(Gosh sorry for the rant, I just had that pent up for a while now and needed to get it off my chest)

I wanted to post this yesterday on Friday 13th but oh well,

I hope I achieved the mysterious spoopy vibes as the original lol

(Click photo for less sh!tty quality)

(Also pls reblog, as much as I really appreciate feedback in general, I really like this piece and want to show it to more people...)

Gosh we are on a roll with this Shadowalkers au huh?

[starlightshadowsworld]

My thoughts on the Amazing Digital Circus Episode 4: Fast Food Masquerade

Spoilers below

Guys I’m 48 seconds in I can’t be crying already. But Zooble giving Gangle a new happy mask 🥹

“It feels normal. In a good way” I’m glad Gangle I’m so happy for you man.

Unicorn horn?

Godamnit Cain! Well moments over I guess.

Awh I want the spoopy meat adventure. Also is it just because it’s dark or is bubble a different colour?

I dunno if we get sane Kinger again I’d love for it to be like last time.

Oh shit there’s a suggestion box.

And Gangles weirdly obsessed with being normal like that one episode of SpongeBob. Loving all the hand, well ribbon gestures though I am concerned.

That was very weird.

Kinger asking to sit out so Zooble can join is both sweet and suspicious.

Woah woah wait?! Gangle actually was a shift manager? Wait does that mean she wanted this adventurer to pretend everything was how it was?

Fucking hell that’s sad.

I am here for Gangle standing up to Jax though. Gangle and Cain was not a duo I thought I needed but I love this.

Can we…can we take Ragatha out of the deep frier?

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!

“Caine would do anything malicious it’s not in his nature” he sent Kinger and Pomni to hell last episode sure. But why are you so sure of that Jax?

…WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!

Yeah maybe don’t ask for that.

Well I’m crying again thanks for that.

Wait is Ragatha jealous? And off her head apparently man don’t have the pink sauce. Oh my god she is jealous.

Oh cool now Gangles losing it. Who decided it was a good idea to put Pomni on the till? Gloink Queen for the win! I love that shes a genuinely good mum.

Well there’s a new ship.

Does…Does he remember…I don’t…ow.

Not the training tapes. Oh damn Gangle girl draw the comic, make the manga…for everyone’s sake. Also the music stopping, the “why not?” Is so unsettling.

Nevermind this is the spoopy episode.

So in Fnaf you don’t sleep on the job because mini-rinas will crawl into you and make you explode. And in TADC you don’t huff paint until your designated break, got it.

I’m loving the baked Ragatha arc. Wait did Jax just call Pomni by her name? Has he ever done that before?

I felt all those muffled screams and of course the happy mask hides tears.

“You good?” Appropriate response. Yeah we need that Gangle therapy episode stat. Talk to Zooble! Talk to Zooble!

Pomni you wonderful lil clown you!

Yeah punt that mask, oh oh wow I wasn’t expecting the music video. I’m happy for you Gangle if very confused.

Also ayy callback to the beginning.

The sad mask smiled 🥹

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Wait how did Kinger get the highest grade he wasn’t even here?

And Caines glitching.

The Gangle Zooble friendship is everything go me. And hearing that from Zooble of all people is such growth.

And Gangles drawing again 🥰

[sprunki-hcs]

Oh yeah again, I've write the whole story bout this.. This could be my au

Black is dead, he already gone. Everyone was really upset and didnt like it.

Wenda asked jevin to bring him back by doing some stuff (like cultist do, idk). jevin messed up doing it and ended up black is alive again but doesn't act like themself back then.

(forgot to mentioned that Black n Wenda are related. Father n Daughter thing)

Black escaped, he walk to the place where all sprunkies are having fun n stuff. His first target was Wenda, his own daughter. He manipulates her to kill her own friends, controlling her completely.

His second target is Simon, he turned them into some kind of eyeless beast. Controlling them completely

His third target is Durple, same like simon. He turned him into some kind of creature, really scary..(spoopy ooh!!)

🎶.

[redofficialart]

"But Uzi...Friends Don't Kiss Friends"

Oh yeah its spoopy month- òwó

I haven't made anything related to October yet since I had other drawings in mind. Yeah I did this in class-

Murder Drones © Liam Vickers

Doodle © Me

[michaelmylove]

im gonna liveblog hello from the hallowoods when i feel like it, so this is the first one

this guy sounds like Cecil but with a less deep voice

what did he say his name was it sounded ridiculous

is this like wtnv. hell yeah i love wtnv

oooh theme this is fun

so its like... wtnv + early tma?

yeah his dad was not a librarian

spoopy key :3

if i zone out for 2 seconds i miss a ton so. adhd is gonna make this fun

spoopy siren key :0

bro this dude not getting drwoned by sirens is the same vibe as that guy that straight up left the distortion's hallways bc he was gonna be late for dinner

tiny picnic sandwich my love <3 (- this guy probably)

adverts!

weird ass squirrel

the music- :DD fun! so light hearted! yay!

what is being described- ♪ൠ 𝕋ℍέ ⓂＯＮˢ𝐭𝔢г 𝓈ＱǗ𝒾𝐫ｒєㄥ ʷｉｌᒪ 𝓶ᗩᵏ𝐞 Ⓨ𝓸𝓤 𝕡𝐀𝔶 Ƒ𝓸я ⓎόỮｒ ｓ丨𝔫s

*diggory graves*?? bit on the nose

n o n b i n a r y g h o s t <333

yknow what 'diggory graves' is on par with enby names actually

2 ghost?? fun :D

not.. ghost. zombie?? boy is ghost. dig amn't.

aww even in death they're so polite

evil migrane piano?

OHHHHH *KEYS* oh thats clever

heyyyyyyy we'll track down your loved ones but only to tell them to pay for something!

DIGGORY HI HELLO AGAIN

afab enby zombie lets goooooooooo

L E S B I A N

oh no. ded lesbian? :[

persephone?

p e r c y ghost

<333 gay

LESBIAN SONG

yes you have youve got a wife

help the ghosty boy with your zombie lesbian fingers!

damnit ghost logic

why would they break it

I WANT THE ANSWER DIGGORY

its giving the not!them table and im scared

is percy their kid omfgggg

mood

you can remember like nothing dude ??

this is legit so sweet

<33333

im gonna go to sleep now, ill be back tmrw

[ananxiousgenz]

TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 4

ANOTHA ONE. i am so sorry guys, but the muse has possessed me and i literally cannot stop writing. this is no longer a flash fic. i am now a slave to the au. this time will be a direct continuation of part 3 because honestly i wanted to keep writing that but i also just wanted to post it so consider this a kind of part 2 to part 3 if that makes sense

tpp mutuals come get your juice!!! @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde

when he said his name, juno heard it.

ringing in the background like the hum of a crystal wine glass.

the song.

when peter nureyev said his name, the song echoed with it.

"your name has the same melody," juno breathed, eye wide and searching for some kind of answers on the face of this strange, beautiful man. how could his name have the song of spring laced through it?

nureyev shot him a sideways look and took a sip of his drink. "so. what do you do for a living, lady who's going to marry me?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and looking juno over with a gaze he could only describe as skeptical.

"oh! well, I work here at the bar with rita. she's over there. but you've met her already so I don't know why I'm introducing her."

rita gave a friendly wave from her perch behind the bar.

"I also, um. I, uh. I sing. sometimes. not all the time. i'm not bad at it. typically when I do sing, someone will give me a couple bucks. it's nice. oh, and uh, I can play guitar too, but I haven't done it in years, and to be honest, I don't really want to-"

nureyev cut juno off, looking away disinterestedly and downing the rest of his drink. "that's nice. so you're like all the other bar workers in existence. that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd want to marry."

suddenly, the butterflies that had been gradually building in juno's stomach began to unexpectedly drop dead.

"heyyyyyyy, that's not very nice, mista nureyev. mista steel isn't like all the otha ladies you eva met! he's a very supa awesome lady who I love workin' with and-oh oh oh! mista steel! you GOTTA tell him about that song you're workin' on! it's so pretty! and important! I'm sure mista nureyev would LOVE to hear about that!" rita cried, bounding off the bar and hustling over to deliver another drink to the table.

"oh, uh, yeah! I'm working on this song to bring spring back again," juno said, feeling mildly embarrassed that rita brought it up with this man who was still basically a total stranger. "it's not done, honestly, it needs a lot of work. but, when i'm finished with it, it will hopefully fix.....everything."

"wait just a moment." nureyev's brow furrowed and juno's stomach twisted at the sight. even when he was skeptical and defensive and bone-tired, he was still so damn attractive. gods, what juno wouldn't give to just kiss him right now- focus, steel, he's trying to talk to you-

"so you say this song will bring spring back again?"

"yup! at least it should."

"that's...." nureyev placed a finger over his lips in thought. "I haven't seen a proper spring in at least a decade, maybe more. the world has been so wrong in recent years... I shudder to think where it would all end up without the return of warmer weather."

"well, that's the idea with the song. I want to fix it. all of it. when the song is done it should put the world back on track. more sunshine, springs, falls, rain and flowers. you know. all the stuff that's just sort of been missing. maybe you could help me out with it!" juno grinned a bit sheepishly.

"and why would I want to help?" his eyes were cold, almost as cold as the biting wind and frost outside, but juno thought he saw the beginning of a thaw at the edges of his facade.

"because, mista nureyev. he's real good at makin' people feel like life is worth livin' again with that music of his. also, he makes the BEST chocolate cake i've eva had! and frannie agrees with me!" rita chimed in, cleaning the bar top as best she could with her short stature.

juno snorted involuntarily, marveling at rita's ability to constantly be focused on food. "it's true, I won a local competition a few years back for that cake."

nureyev's face had half a smile on it now, and the butterflies in juno's stomach turned into a hurricane.

"so you can make people feel alive again? that's quite a gift, juno. but what else can you offer me?"

"huh?"

"say, for example, if we were to get married. who would pay for the wedding rings? times have been hard, and gold is scarce. how would you do it?"

juno thought for a moment. "the rivers. they've got plenty of gold in them, and if my song works, they'll give it all to us for wedding rings."

nureyev's eyes glinted with something juno suspected was either curiosity or suspicion.

"what about a wedding feast? or a bed? good food and better beds are hard to come by these days. what would you do about that, juno?"

"the trees would take care of the wedding feast, and the birds would take care of the bed."

"with your song." nureyev cocked an eyebrow as though it was a question.

"well, yeah, of course."

"you talk a lot about that song. why don't you sing it for me?"

a wave of panic stuttered through juno's mind. "I can't. I told you it's not finished."

"you said you wanted to take me home and marry me, is that true?

a sly smile crossed nureyev's face, and goddammit it only made juno want him even more. "yes," he breathed.

"then sing the song for me, juno."

juno hesitated, then nodded in spite of himself. he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help it.

he was in love.

and lovers need the spring like a flower needs sunshine. so he'd sing the sunshine back for peter nureyev.

he stepped back, breathed in, and let the notes flow from him like water from a faucet. the song flooded the room, hitting the walls and rushing back to his ears in perfect harmonies, and for a moment, he was back in that wheat field with benten, strumming guitar as he danced like a pheonix rising from the ashes, spinning around and around and around like he was the center of the universe.

and then the song ended. and juno was back in a shitty roadside bar, holding a perfect dahlia in his left hand, with peter nureyev staring at him now, eyes wide and sparkling.

"that's...... you...... how did you do that?" nureyev asked quietly, standing from the table on unsteady legs and taking the dahlia to examine it with shaking hands.

"i didn't do that, the song did," juno muttered as nureyev gently touched the immaculate petals of the dahlia, still damp with dew. rita beamed at juno from the bar and gave an overenthusiastic thumbs-up. juno just rolled his eyes again.

peter nureyev looked at him then, all of the previous frostiness gone from his eyes and something like amazement and love and hope spilling through them.

juno decided that he liked it when he looked like that. it made him feel like he really could fix the whole damn world with that song of his.

nureyev seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and slipped the dahlia into the buttonhole of his traveling coat. "so, what time does your shift end, my dear juno?"

juno thought for a minute. "uhhhh, the bar closes around 10. why?"

his eyes gleamed like a pair of stars as a smile twinkled on his lips. "didn't you say you were going to marry me?"

[dee-the-red-witch]

...because apparently I STILL wind up doing things even when I try and take a day off from stuff... the website has now been updated. Fixed social media links, uodated merch site links, AND OH YEAH TWO NEW MASK DESIGNS AVAILABLE IN TIME FOR SPOOPY SEASON.

http://tormentedartifacts.com

GO YE FORTH AND GRAB YE SOME STUFF. HELP A GIRL MAKE HER BACK RENT.

[palesweetscherryblossom]

TBH I can't take the AFO in this AU seriously. He sounds like he wanted to just get the two to calm down and all by stuffing them in the same cage, but now he is tortured by them just being very lovely, dovey sometimes, and all. Like, no, the guests want to see you to be cool, not have low-key sex on a branch. These two have 0 zero shame. qgen it comes to their acts, and AFO is just so annoyed that he like gets a child for their instincts to stop that and focus on the child. Now, with a child around, they can't engage in the open, and he won't embarrass his guests. On top of that he can show big brain energy as he explains how he got reader and why that quirky family works together.

Imagine you’re some fancy rich MF who wanted to gaze at cool snake and moth people only to spot them in a mating ball. Oh yeah, Tomura would instinctively cover up Dabi and hiss at everyone while Dabi is still being a freak But everyone would probably gush at how adorable Shigadabi is with their baby while AFO is like: No, Tomura, you’re supposed to be spoopy and intimidating! Stop kissing your child!

[xryosakeyx]

Working on next chapter's cover rn (MFW it's the "ah fuck nah pika-pi's gonna tackle someone to the ground again" chapter and not the "holesum funtime with spoopy reaper guy!! :P" chapter)

Oh yeah and here's what Cici actually looks outside her sailor dress (saving the sketch for this chapter instead cuz she's more relavent in CH9 than in eight)

[the-s1lly-corner]

How about a Halloween themed adventure with TADC cast? It’s almost spoopy time after all.

Halloween themed adventure for the cast!

hello hello im probably going to write this and then take a break because my brother keeps pestering me and its genuinely upsetting me and i cant focus on writing when i get like this so uh usually i would do these in separate divided segments for each character but im going to meld them all together for today i was a little stumped when it came to coming up with an idea for this... but murder mystery basically!!

okay so i typed this up three times before deleting it. i dont know what it is with this prompt or if its an issue with me but i am struggling to get the words out. i think its because im irritated by my brother and im only just waking up but so

im just going to write down my ideas here in a straight forward way instead of my original idea (first framed as a fanfic, then as a bullet list of events) so

i think caine would alter the look of the grounds to make it look more spooky for the event. he assigns someone to be the murderer of the game, and explains the basic rules of the game.

game, instead of adventure

i think zooble would be picked off first, which is a bit of a mercy because they wouldnt want to be a part of the game anyways

of course everyone thinks its jax, but is it really?

next to go is kinger, poor man did not stand a chance. this of course makes everyone more on edge

oh also each 'corpse' is replaced by a prop, since they could easily let slip who the killer is if the player were to stay put. caine just spectates the game to make sure to make the switch

kinger is literally just replaced by a normal oversized chess piece, and zooble by a pile of plastic props

next to go is jax

this leaves just pomni, gangle, and ragatha

things are reaching a head

i mean they all thought it was jax, but they couldnt prove it, and now their original thought was debunked..

pomnis anxiety reaches a new high as she stares between the two girls

gangles comedy mask had long since broken and she was shaking

ragatha tries to reason with gangle that its just a game and that theres no reason to cry

the lights go out

a yelp is heard, followed by a second one

then the lights come back on, everyone back in the room; including caine

what just happened?

apparently the murderer was gangle, because admin thought it would be funny to make it the soft girl that no one would suspect

like realistically gangle would not be able to stand a chance against literally any of the cast but i simply

think its funny to picture them squaring up with like, jax

yeah get it girl!!!

idk this is so jumbled up i dont know whats wrong with me and my writing today

[draconicsparkle]

Oh boy oh boy!!! Here we go!!! I can finally start this story!

This beautiful piece was drawn by @valictini. It’s been done for such a long time and I can finally share it with the world! Look at the amazing art! I love everything about it! It’s the precious boys!!! And spoopy Izuru in the back being the eldritch horror that he is.

But yeah! This is the cover art for my new Danganronpa fic that I’m starting. I hope people will be interested and perhaps check it out!