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#im with u anon
preciouslandmermaid · 2 years
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I'm still not sure why I'm attracted to Carmy....but man 🥵🥵❤️‍🔥
Honey, I'll tell you why. FIRST OF ALL - Jeremy Allen White never got his white boy of the month recognition.
But, beyond that, Carmy is capable/talented (there is something inherently sexy about anyone with a specific skill set). Carmy actively tries to improve himself, apologizes when he fucks up, and is genuinely a good person. His eyes are pretty and look tragic and he has a fucking fantastic nose.
Those are all the things I can think of off the top of my head. But, I think we can all just agree: HE'S HOT.
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princessg3rard · 2 months
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Hi
Your pfp reminds of one of my moots
And u seem to be friends with one of my moots
So
I'm going to follow you
great logic 10/10 seems very nice to me <3 also hiiii new friend !! :3
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cali · 1 month
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inferno darling groudon supervises the end of a lot of things
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crops and a link to this as a print
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are you gay?
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lesbianviolet · 1 month
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happy to report that im sooooooooooooooooo normal ^-^ and will continue to be so
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beescake · 3 months
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im a sollux kinnie and ur art is great. like a delicious meal. 1 million courses. my compliments to the chef.
AOGHHH TYSM I REALLY APPRECIATE IT
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in gratitude i present a little guy doing setup for the first time 🐝
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skrs-cats · 26 days
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set after leafpool dies, before the bonus scene w jayfeather dealing w that grief gets resolved. guess who was bitter over a certain cardboard character bitch not being included in that
Next
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eddiesghxst · 9 months
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no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.
you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)
it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.
but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)
anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶
BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.
also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie
18+ — MINORS DNI
word count: 1k
————
Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.
He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.
You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”
You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.
Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 
He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).
He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.
Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.
You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”
You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 
“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 
He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.
And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.
It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3
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mrghostrat · 2 months
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knew i was gonna have fun with all the funky shapes in this one so i made sure to get a recording going!!
plus flowers for ur mutuals 🌸
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wispscribbles · 4 months
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I want to eat your art and writing thank you so much
Haha well I'm always happy to keep you all fed. Here, have some old sketches <33
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tojisun · 5 months
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sun!! i hope you’re doing well sweetheart <3
i’m on my period and feeling miserable :( i’m just imagining biker!simon and his big warm hands massaging my lower back and being my personal heating pad
i feel like he’d be so doting and sweet…and i just know his cuddles are IMMACULATE
my goodness my beloved im sorry for how late my reply to this is!! i hope ur feeling a whole lot better today :(( and that u were able to rest well hhhhh
no ur right!!! big man like simon gives out good hugs!! just, warm and comforting over all <33 // biker!simon mlist
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simon leaves as soon as he can, your message still bright in his mind – im dying lol.
“Not on my watch,” is what simon replied, trying to be playful if only to distract you from your pain.
he says his goodbyes to his friends, waves at john who tells him he’ll close up the shop and that simon doesn’t have to worry about it, before walking towards the parking lot. he snags his helmet, snaps it on, and hefts himself on top of his bike.
he traces the initials engraved on his gloves before bringing up his hand to the mouth of his helmet and presses it in lieu of a kiss. then he’s off, the purr of his engine smooth as he whips against the wind.
simon’s left you on his bed today, bundled up in his sweater and underneath the blankets. you’ve been teary-eyed as you bid him goodbye, trying to assure him that your period’s not kicking your ass.
“just go, si,” you said, huffing when simon continued to stand by the edge of the bed, hesitating.
“i don’t wanna leave you when y’r like this, sweetheart,” he replied, bending down just enough to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.
“you can’t just skip work, y’know?”
“if it’s for you, i can.”
it wasn’t a lie – you two knew this – but you insisted, giggling, and told him to just remember to bring snacks when he returns home. he kissed you goodbye and drove off.
simon didn’t forget his promise, of course. his bag’s full of chocolates and cookies and a pack of electrolyte drinks. he knew the medicine cabinet was stocked but simon got extra pain medications – for cramping and nausea – in case you needed more.
johnny had seen simon’s grocery bag and asked that simon tell you that johnny’s wishing you to get well soon. then, kyle and john overheard and they gave simon the extra ladyfingers stored in the break room.
simon parks his bike and almost stumbles on his feet when he lurched out of his bike. he speeds through the stairs, thundering footsteps echoing, before tearing through the fire escape door.
he fumbles for his keys, steps into his apartment, and has just enough coherence to remember to toe his shoes off, place his helmet on the counter, snag his gloves off, and wash his hands. then, simon’s back in his room. back where you are.
you’re still buried underneath his quilt, curled into yourself. simon would have cooed at how little space you are taking up on his bed but he hears you whine, exhausted face peeking out of the quilt, before weary eyes meet his own.
“i’m home, sweetheart,” he breathes out, watching as your face breaks out into a smile.
“hey there, baby,” you reply, shuffling until he sees you lift a corner of the sheets for him to crawl in.
simon doesn’t even care that he’s still in his work clothes, not when your pretty eyes are pleading him to slip in and finally cuddle with you. so he drops his bag and takes his jacket off, before slipping underneath the quilt and sliding beside you.
you’re blinking up at him as he settles in, your warm palms reaching up to caress his cool face. he hears the faint hum that rumbles from your throat and simon huffs a fond laugh at the small smile tickling your lips.
“how do you want me, love?” he asks, his own hands claiming their rightful place by your waist. he rubs at your sides the way he knows you want – smooth glides with just enough pressure, grounding you into him.
“spoonin’,” you whisper, sniffing, before turning away from him with your mind made up.
simon laughs, pressing the quiet puffs of it on the back of your head as you shimmy towards him, pressing your back to his chest, before falling putty with a quiet sigh. he loops his arm around your waist, the heavy weight of his palm falling just underneath your belly.
“lift y’r head up a bit,” simon murmurs, humming when he slots his other arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. “good girl,” he murmurs as you fall back into him.
simon fixes the sheets as you shuffle closer again, nuzzling your face onto his arm with a pleased grumble, and he barks a laugh at your sudden sneeze.
“shit, sorry,” you croak out, hiding your face behind your palms.
simon laughs. “don’t be, sweetheart.” he kisses the back of your head again. “feelin’ better?”
“a bit,” you reply, and simon trembles when he feels your fingers glide along his arm. “now that you’re here.”
jesus. you sure know how to make him ache with the weight of his love, huh sweetheart?
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IT GOT TOO LONG IM SORRY!! but yea :(( i hope u are feeling better luv <333
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inkskinned · 1 year
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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
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isjasz · 5 months
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POSSESSES YOU
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[Day 123]
Uh I got possessed what happened
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temeyes · 21 days
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hear me out: Gaz tummy
(There isn’t enough love for Gaz and it make me kinda sad tbh he’s so pretty)
~Valentine
oh anon, i'll do you one better-
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gaz tatas, you're welcome
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nyancrimew · 8 months
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i get called homophobic slurs in public, do extremism research, and have seen some shit absolutely no one should have to see just doing my work - and you still genuinely think sending me an anon ask calling me the r word and threatening me with comical ass violence would get anything more than a giggle out of me?
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yeosin-n · 1 month
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Omg ur so wonderful!!! I was wondering if we could give horror some chocolate? (And if he's up for it maybe even a hug... Or a kiss) please? I love ur stuff btw!!!!
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I ALMOST FORGOT HOW HOT HORROR IS he’s so fun to draw
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