I think… I have figured out the reason I never get gendered as a guy anymore and it’s making me have…. A lot of really complex feelings

chester’s favourites (1980)

some pre-reaping Katniss and etccccc

Random thoughts

Hc that Katniss and Prim wear oversized pre-loved clothes bought from the hob, which are lots of men’s wear left behind by the peacekeepers. And it makes sense to get larger clothes to grow into and whatnot. So yea it doesn’t fit the best but they are mended and presentable! On another note I like the blue grey washed out aesthetic of district 12 in the movies so I tried to put that here

Anw I been struggling to draw esp with this one for like weeeeks so pls pat me on the back for finishing it /sobs

i hate trying to figure out how to treat my long hair cuz all the results are like this

some favourite pesterlog exchanges.

Found you ☀️

my guys:)

Don’t u hate it when you draw something and then ur like “wow uh no one follows me for this fandom” haha lol anyway

Undertale is a pretty cool game, I may have a favorite character from it uh—

Frame 16 (plus some evidence that there’s more than the stills)

Podcast John Watson, the man that you are

Non human characters am I right

Birdman doodles

(1) new message from svsss cast

heartbreaking: this viral post is saying things you completely agree with in the most irritating way possible

Poppy oughta know by now that with Branch, clear communication is absolutely key

suggestive

i was doing some thinking about scenes from scream vi and i just realized that public transportation, namely subways and buses, would be the place to tease virgin, ghostface ethan. it’d be so crowded and your body would sway back and forth with the momentum, of course you’d end up pressed against him. you’d be able to feel the way his body would tense against your back and the way his breath would hitch when he feels your ass nudge against his crotch. he’d automatically know this isn’t good; he’s never been stellar at concealing his feelings for you.

in his mind, he considers himself fortunate that you had yet to catch on to all the little methods he’d use to disguise his arousal, such as covering his lap with a pillow and faking sudden urges to use the bathroom. but now, you’ve lodged him between a rock and a hard place, and he can’t allow himself to slip up now—not when he’s just earned your trust enough to be allowed such close proximity. he tries to think of anything else—skin peeling off bones, vomit, a severed penis—but it all proves to be for naught, and any attempts to wiggle further into the corner to escape are only nullified by the lack of space.

you feel so soft against him, every shift of your head or stance flooding his senses with the fragrances lacing your hair and attire. his face is warm, paranoia festering in his chest as he struggles to prevent the manifestation of the desire already stirring to life between his legs. you'd surely hate him—be disgusted with him if you discovered how perverted he really was. but, you already knew. you knew very well. you just wish he knew that his feelings were reciprocated.

his head knocks back against the wall, and he tries to occupy himself with squinting at all the cracks and peels of paint on the ceiling. but you insist on interrupting his peace again, this time closing the remaining distance by nonchalantly leaning your back against his chest and consequently increasing the pressure on his cock. now, he can’t just ignore you. it would be impossible. when you decide to tempt him with an experimental grind of your ass against him and a teasing smile, his next inhale is quiet yet just sharp enough for you to detect, and you jolt in surprise when a shrill clang abruptly resounds overhead—the collision of the silver rings adorning his fingers with the metal support bar above you as he grips it tightly to stabilize himself.

his free hand clamps down on your hip, strong fingers cold to the touch and bearing an unspoken command to stop moving. suddenly, it’s as if he has you caged in, trapped between him and the unsuspecting woman in front of you. he leans forward, holding you firmly in place while he curls over your shoulder. his gaze is heated as it drills into the back of your head, the weight of it pinning you to your spot. it’s as if you can feel him bearing down on you, his presence overriding your own, swallowing you up. he’s behind you, above you—you shiver when his hand abandons its place at your hip and instead slides across your stomach to splay over your lower abdomen.

he’s everywhere.