dr-exophil
Dr. ExoPhil
~the doctor is in~
•exophile•pan•polyam•female•
I'm just your average writer; I will probably be posting 18+ things in the near future
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please don't start gatekeeping monsterfucking. literally anybody can have any kink, can we all just get the fuck along? i've been through the discrimination too, and from my own family no less, but i'm not a dick to white people or to straight people. what do you want them to do, change their race? no, because that would be racist. want them to force themselves to like the same gender or change their gender identity? that's literally what the straights did to us, still sometimes do to us. so what if they're into werewolves or zombies or what-the-fuck-ever? we have something in common with them, is that a fucking problem? two wrongs don't make a right, so stop trying to say that they can't be like us. we are not above them, or vice versa; our value isn't determined by who we love or what we look like, it's determined by how we act, and a lot of people aren't acting very rationally recently.
just be kind, please. stop fighting fire with fire.
i genuinely don’t get cishet monsterfuckers. for context, in the wake of shape of water i participated in this loving-the-monstrous type discussion event slash publishing party wherein i debuted a short story about a woman who “befriends” a cave monster—but that isnt the point. the point is i had to hear straight women talk for hours about how the appeal of monsters is some kind of weird “taming the beast” fantasy—loving a monster until it loves you back, sounding like every bad beauty and the beast take ever.
And there’s my queer ass being like literally none of you get it. this isn’t about power, this is about love and alienation and acceptance. you dumbasses, I’m the monster. this isn’t a metaphor for your shitty boyfriend, this is a metaphor for my own alienation from a society that tells me a the way i am and the way I love are grotesque. this is a fantasy of love free of judgement, separate from societal standards that I’ll never live up to anyway. that ghoul doesn’t care if I’m fat, they think it’s hot that I eat well. that immortal fae creature doesn’t care if the gender on my birth certificate matches the one I use now, they barely have a concept of gender in the first place. that tentacle monster doesn’t care if I shave, they don’t have eyes
monsterfucking is queer culture, everyone else go home
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This is a God tier shitpost
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i genuinely hate when people will make a long post and then put a tl;dr at the bottom that just says “go back and read the fucking post it’s not that long” LIKE,,,,,, TL;DRs ARE ACCESSIBILITY RESOURCES YOU ASSHOLES???? LITERALLY IN THE SAME VEIN AS IMAGE DESCRIPTIONS??????? you HONESTLY do not have to be such a fucking dick about it that you would take an accessibility resource and then twist it just so you can be passive aggressive, honey your neurotypical is showing
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Cash app $onlyliyah31
Venmo @pabloliii
PayPal @pablowliii
Https://linktr.ee/Pabloliii
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reblogging so that I can use these for inspiration for my alien's clothes later
Zareena spring 2018 rtw
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But mermaids have no tears, and therefore they suffer so much more
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i need to play skyrim again...
Staying Productive
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Pssst
Hey, are you an artist or writer with WIPs?
Come here... I got a secret for you pssst come ‘ere
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this would look really good on some aliens
i thought that “vein jewelry” was going to be. jewelry designed to look like veins, maybe? jewelry made out of real animal veins, at worst. it’s. it’s not.
vein jewelry is jewelry you insert into your veins
there should be a german word for when you prepare to experience horror, but are still somehow shocked by how it plays out
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I've just had the most brilliant idea... have any of you hornball exophiliacs watched the show "deep space 69"? if so, would you be interested in seeing a very similar series of stupid extraterrestrial sexual encounters posted on this blog?
#exophilia#exophilia-imagines#alien x reader#alien x human#monster x human#monster lover#interspecies romance#tetraphilia#teratophilia#aliens#alien#scifi#this would be a completely stupid series filled with a lot of ridiculous Sexcapades#just the way i like it#idiot writer
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"Honey, it's Halloween!! You're supposed to give them candy!!!"
“They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who’s laughing now?” you say as you whacked the ghost again.
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Sleep paralysis demon/nightmare x reader (nsfw)
This was begun on a Twitch writing stream, with lots of input from the chat, and while I did say I would post it straight to Tumblr, I ended up adding another 3k words to it, and a tiny bit of plot, so I figured I’d put it up on Patreon first. Since Patreon supporters voted so highly for a ‘nightmare’ on the ‘next monsters’ poll (thank you!), I thought it should go up there first too.
Our reader has been experiencing anxiety and insomnia lately, and this draws something to us… There’s a bit at the start that’s got creepy vibes to it, but the creature means us no harm. Because of the sleep paralysis element, I’m going to say watch out for non-con vibes, but nothing really happens without our consent first time round. Just putting it here in case that’s a major issue for anyone.
Ft. dapper mothman landlord Reggie, and gnoll best friend too.
“You’re living where now?” Francis practically barked into his whisky as you sat together after work. The gnoll’s enormous, dish-like ears flicked forwards, dark and fuzzy and full of concern. “Seriously, you do know how shitty that part of town is, right?”
“It’s not that bad,” you growled, taking a sip of your own drink and leaning back into the soft leather back of the chair. You stifled a yawn and blinked, the exhaustion of a week’s worth of broken sleep catching up to you in one brutal rush.
Francis flicked an ear and levelled you with a flat look, dark eyes serious for once. “You’re kidding…?”
“Ok, fine, it’s not amazing, but it’s really not the worst bit of town. Anyway, it’s all I can afford right now until I find a new job.” That seemed to shut him up on the subject, at least for now. He couldn’t argue with your dwindling bank balance after all.
“When’s your first interview?” he asked, raising the whisky to his lips and sipping it with surprising elegance for someone with such big hands and such a powerful jaw.
Taking a deep breath, you forced the nerves down and muttered, “Monday. I’m not prepared, but at least it’s something.” You tried not to think about the inbox full of rejection letters which, in a mere two sentences and with surgical succinctness, told you that they were not hiring, nor looking to hire, nor to take on any new staff just at the moment. Thank you for your interest.
It wasn’t interest; it was sheer bloody desperation.
“You’re not going to be at all prepared if you get mugged to death on your way home tonight,” Francis grumbled.
“It’ll be fine.”
He looked at you again and took another final drink of his whisky, long tongue lapping out the remaining dregs before he set it down with a clonk on the circle-stained table. “Please text me when you get there?”
With a solemn promise to do just that, you stood and he followed you outside into the cool evening. A scuffle of dry leaves drew your attention to your right, and the fleeting shadow of a cat projected huge along a brick wall made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Francis’ concern had got you jumping at the smallest things, and as you separated from him with a warm hug and the reiterated promise that you’d be fine, you gritted your teeth and told yourself in no uncertain terms not to flinch at the slightest sound.
Keep reading
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