t4m3-simp

[t4m3-simp]

SOMEONE GETS ITTT OH MY GOD

(Little spoiler of something I’m making hehehee)

[t4m3-simp]

the like. overall comedic tone of alex's interactions w ena in dbbq maybe overshadow a bit how fucking depressing his situation is and i say that as someone who had struggled with hoarding tendencies ... like yea maybe im just projecting but if you read between the lines and past the comedic overtone you can see. that kinda thing can ruin ur relationships. you become ashamed and defensive. paranoid, even. thats something i can understand as someone who was in a similar spot.

and his emphasis on eyes and perspctive and looking and seeing rlly resonates. his character has a big emphasis on vision, between various voice lines, "kill that man's stare", the censor bar despite having eyes on his model, etc. idk i like him :)

[t4m3-simp]

alex pride + furry version. alt + smaller doodle under cut

he's bi trans to me. and also a rat/ferret thing

[t4m3-simp]

Yes we are all cracking hoarder Alex this summer who with me

[t4m3-simp]

hoarding thyself so no other shall have

[t4m3-simp]

[t4m3-simp]

Alex cant handle all that

[Made a little hc design for Hoarder Alex's ex, how do we feel about it?]

[t4m3-simp]

taskihoarders from magmaah

[t4m3-simp]

Hoarder Alex,,,, god i love how you draw him GRRRR HES SO SILLY

also do you have any more taski art😓😓😓shes so cute in ur style too ALSO YOURE VERY COOL AND AWESOME HITS YOU WITH A BAR OF URANIUM

I made all these in 2 hours just for u

[t4m3-simp]

Never been so happy my whole life

Bing bong

[t4m3-simp]

WHAT THE HELL PEAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is taskihoarder to me

[t4m3-simp]

The dumb ass ship i thought of one day and now i can't stop

[t4m3-simp]

haiii haii I've been loving like, LOVING ur writing and i want to request some headcanons of hoarder alex x reader!!! (romantic ofc)

any, give me any!!! and my. life is yours!!!!

ur amazing btw🫶🫶🫶🩷💥

-🩷💛🩵

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Rat ting for being so nice, my colourful Anon!

- SAINT RUNE

─── ⋆⋅ WASTE UNDER THE BRIDGE ⋅⋆ ──

⛧° Summary: A Compilation Of Romantic Headcanons Featuring Hoarder Alex X Reader

⛧° Character(s): Hoarder Alex (ENA: Dream BBQ)

⛧° Genre: Headcanons, SFW

⛧° Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

⛧° Image Credits: @JoelG

⋆˙⟡ You find out he collects things not for their value, but because they once made someone feel something. He won’t tell you directly—it slips out one day while he’s ranting about “emotional tax” and how he “had to steal that cracked teacup because it was blushing when someone held it wrong.” When you realize he keeps your chewed pencil stub in a silk pouch next to a rusted brooch that “smelled like grief,” you understand he’s been hoarding you, too. He denies it. Loudly. Red-faced. Clutching his bag like a saint clutches a relic. But the pouch smells like your shampoo.

⋆˙⟡ Dates are spontaneous disasters. One time, you suggest a picnic. Hoarder Alex agrees—after packing his entire collection of expired coupons, bent nails, and a taxidermy lizard named Ernesto. He calls this his Emergency Emotional Buffer Kit. You end up sitting on a pile of newspapers from 1992 while he screams at the clouds about a dream he had where you left him for a lampshade. He swears it’s a premonition. You swear you like him. He turns pink and shushes you like he’s protecting a national secret.

⋆˙⟡ He absolutely does not get jealous. That’s ridiculous. He’s above that. Except when someone breathes within 10 feet of you. Then he’s clenching his trash bag like it’s a weapon and whispering things like “They’re mine, thief. Back off before I tax your aura.” You try not to laugh. You fail. He makes a wounded noise and calls you a heartless scoundrel. You kiss his snout and he forgets what he was mad about. (Until tomorrow. When he remembers. And sulks. With purpose.)

⋆˙⟡ He can’t sleep unless you’re holding onto something of his. A shoelace. A cassette tape. Once, he gave you a chipped tooth in a velvet box and whispered, “This… was from a duel. You may keep it. Just… sleep with it close.” You ask what the duel was about. He says “tax evasion” and refuses to elaborate. The tooth smells like peppermint and regret. You keep it on your nightstand anyway.

⋆˙⟡ When he’s sad, he talks to the things. You once caught him lecturing a crushed soda can about heartbreak. “They said they liked the way I yelled at traffic, and now—now they’re reading poetry to the park bench! The bench!” You step out of hiding and hand him a warm drink. He stares. Then mutters, “Stupid… beautiful… altruistic harpy…” before shuffling into your arms like a guilty, growling dog. You hold him until he stops mumbling.

⋆˙⟡ He has written at least seven dramatic farewell letters to you, each time he thinks you’re going to leave him. One is 18 pages long and includes a eulogy for himself written in third-person. You once tried to throw one away. He gasped like you’d burned down the Louvre and then recited the entire thing aloud. With tears. You now keep them all in a little binder labeled: “For When Alex is Feeling Theatrical.” He calls this treason. But he lets you do it.

⋆˙⟡ He made you a gift once. It was a sculpture of your silhouette—made entirely from melted lighters and bottle caps. It somehow looked… perfect. “I made it from the objects that looked at me wrong after I met you,” he says, grinning like a madman. “Now they’ll never forget you.” You’re not sure whether to kiss him or call a priest. You do both. He blushes for four hours.

⋆˙⟡ Hoarder Alex has a list of every nice thing you’ve ever said to him. It’s stored in a moldy journal marked CONFESSIONS AND UNPAID DEBTS. Occasionally, he’ll flip it open dramatically and reread them aloud when he’s feeling insecure. “June 3rd, you said I looked ‘chaotically charming.’ That was a lie, wasn’t it?! Don’t comfort me. It was a pity compliment.” You cradle his face and say it again. He screams into your shoulder like you stabbed him with love. You didn’t. Yet.

⋆˙⟡ Every time you touch him gently, he twitches like it’s the first time someone’s done that without trying to steal his stuff. You once brushed a leaf out of his ponytail and he went silent for a full minute. Then said, in a whisper, “That was illegal.” You said, “What?” He said, “You just vandalised my soul.” Then asked if you’d do it again.

⋆˙⟡ When you’re sad, he doesn’t comfort you in the traditional sense. No. He rants at the world on your behalf. “WHO HURT YOU?! I’LL STEAL THEIR DOORFRAME! I’LL PETITION THE SKY FOR A PERSONAL THUNDERSTRIKE!” Then he brings you something ridiculous—like a bent fork or a glitter-covered napkin—and says, “This reminded me of your anger. It deserves to be hoarded.” It always makes you laugh. Which he counts as a personal victory. His ears twitch. His chest swells. He says, “You’re welcome.” As if he didn’t just gift you a cursed spoon.

[t4m3-simp]

AIM FOR THE TARGET!

[t4m3-simp]

Someone make a hoarder alex x reader plsplsplsplsplsplspls PLEASE.PLEse. IM STARVING. PLEASE.

[t4m3-simp]

Hello ena community today i preseng you the worst rarepair ever

[t4m3-simp]

Your fate was sealed from the start