jaw-writes

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what I ended up with from scribbling on stream

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I Despise You Darling

I despise everything about you. Your endless void eyes, freakishly long legs, ever smug smile, deceptively soft touch, strangely floral scent. All of it. You attack each of my senses every time you come near me. To think that we were once best friends, I had more faith in you than anyone, whenever I needed advice or a shoulder to cry on, I went to you first. You meant the world to me; it makes me feel sick whenever I remember how the girl I loved was a lie 

You betrayed me, your best friend, in the name of a grotesque experiment where I’m the lab rat. There’s no doubt that you started the fire that continues to burn my life, but I can’t deny that I’ve enjoyed pouring the gasoline. At first, I did my best to avoid becoming obsessed with you, constantly holding myself back knowing it was wrong, but you made it impossible. Your mind is a carefully curated garden brimming with all sorts of life. As each day went by, I wanted to pick another flower from it, feel another blade of grass, and bask in its intrigue. 

I learned so much about you through observation, that I never could as your friend. Last year when I found out that you’d been stalking me, I had no idea why you’d do such a thing, now I understand. If watching me gave you a quarter of the feelings I get from watching you, then I’d almost forgive your actions. Gazing at your life through an analytical lens elicits feelings in me I didn’t know existed. It’s almost impossible to describe the manic rush of joy and power I get. 

Although, I think we enjoy it in different ways based on how we view each other. To you I’m your favorite seed in your garden, you want to watch me grow into your ideal tree. So, you take what you know about how I function, and combine it with your understanding of the world to make a compost for me. As brutal as the water you drown me in and the harsh sun you scorch me with is, it’s all part of your method to make me grow. I am a creation you live to see reach its full potential.  

To me, you’re the opposite, a malicious computer program that I enjoy watching destroy itself. You have never felt an ounce of empathy and have always needed to control any device you encounter. Once you find a target, you infect them with your virus, mining every piece of their data, and adding them to your collection of stolen lives. You successfully did it to me, but unlike the others, you kept going. Focusing on my activity far after you were done stealing from me, constantly coming back to see how I’d adapt to a new trojan horse you threw.  

Soon, I became the only user you engaged with, no other piece of tech mattered unless it was connected to me, and God, did seeing you like that feed my ego. A smile forces its way to my face at your meticulous plans growing in detail and intensity as you can’t focus on anything else. I, a random individual with nothing but a hint of illness to him, is who you put all your resources into. I’m unable to fear you anymore, while I gaze at you practically living for me. In your efforts to crumble and rebuild my life. You’ve made yourself incapable of having your own.  

Both of us have embraced the worst aspects of ourselves through the sick experiments we’ve been running on each other. You may be the greater evil between us, but I’m no longer afraid to admit that I’ve become a devil myself. I mean, I lured you into an abandoned warehouse, called upon one of my allies to help me fight you, and then shot you ceaselessly, making sure it was in areas that would maim, but not kill you. Now why would I do that? To make you paralyzed, of course. I was incredibly particular about where I aimed.  

You’ll be unable to move your limbs for at least four months, which invigorates me. I’ve been watching you and your caretaker. It’s great seeing both your arms and legs in casts. You had already been losing your strength to your fixation on me, but now you’ll be incapable of running away. If you find yourself fearing me right now, know that whatever happens next is your fault. I’m not the Anti-Christ, so I’ll simply enjoy observing your lack of mobility, with no further harm, but prepare yourself because the moment you can walk, I’ll be waiting.  

Unless I’m lying like you always lied to me, and I’ll strike once one of your limbs heal. Maybe I’ll be tracking you even more and will be able to tell if you’re pretending that you haven’t healed so I don’t hurt you sooner. Maybe I won’t even wait for when your body starts recovering, and you’ll wake up to me standing over your bed with my hands on your neck. I know how much you like analyzing and picking out patterns with me, so I’ll make sure you never know what to expect. I could be bluffing, and this is all to scare you off, so I’ll be done with you, you’ll never know. 

Are you starting to regret choosing me for this? Does the thought that you’ve grown a deadly poison plant out of your control kill you? Or are you loving this as much as I am, and you want to rub yourself all over me to get a blistering rash? I think it’s a mix of both for you, but who am I to say, it’s not like I’ve been watching your every move, right? No matter what you feel, just remember, I despise you, darling. 

#creepypasta #horror #ao3 writer #drama #edit #moodboard #black and white #long post #original character #original story #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing #aesthetic #original post #pinterest #bookblr #books #short story #story #no sleep #love hate relationship #poetry #writerscommunity #writers and poets #poc writer #asian writers #thriller #romantic #no sleep rejected this because they hate protags who aren't purely sympathetic

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twitch emotes I made today for my channel

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This Jerry design is so real

Jerry!! :3

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4 hours and 13 minutes of me going insane later

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Ben Drowned if he slayed

Ben Drowned ❌

BEN ATEEEEEE ✅

#ben drowned #digital art #creepypasta #artwork #art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #drawing #horror #my edit #edit #drag race #drag queens #rupaul #makeup #drag makeup #slayyyyy #shitpost #comedy #aesthetic #green #blondie

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me when i can’t go a day without adding band lyrics to art. anyways y’all he ditched the hoodie eventually for better clothes 😞

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Jeff the Killer in the jelly art style

You can either thank or wish harm upon me. I see a very small window between those reactions.

#artwork #digital art #creepypasta #art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #drawing #horror #shitpost #sorry #jeff the killer #jelly art #pastel #kawaii #fashion #rendering #meme #humor

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My friend’s art is great go follow them

FURINA AND NEUVILLETTE!!

#digital art #artwork #shoutout #art #digital drawing #drawing #genshin impact #genshin fanart

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Hi rose's boyfriend !!!!!!!

Hi! I hope you like my story! :)

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A Letter to My Coat

I write this as a letter to you, my most frequently used coat. I remember when I found you at the department store. To everyone else, you were just like any simple button up, but I could tell there was something valuable about you. Not in the monetary sense; you weren't made of interesting parts or decadent materials, but you were rich in character. There were a couple like you on the clearance rack but I knew you were the one I wanted. 

So I took you home with me and slipped you on. You were a bit too tight at first and it was a struggle to remove your tag, but my goodness was it worth it. The fabric that lines you is so soft and warm, then the outer layer, the part everyone sees, is so simple yet perfect in that simplicity. I would take you everywhere with me and I would never get comments about you being out of place. Over the years you’ve taken some damage a couple of loose threads and stains, though that’s not a complaint I think it makes you far more desirable. 

The grit contrasts with your overall plush making you even more comfortable to have on. The only problem is when you try to behave like you’re another piece of clothing, or worse something not meant to be worn. There have been a couple of instances, especially over the past few months, where you’ve tried to convince yourself you’re something you’re not. You’ll be stubbornly holding onto the coat rack. Make it hard for me to wear you, try to roll off me, and worst of all, attempt to patch yourself up when you know you can't do that without me.

Which is why I’m writing this letter that I’ll put in your pocket tomorrow. I implore you to stop this nonsense for your sake, I know we don’t always agree but this is much more damaging to you than me. I don’t understand how you don’t know your purpose after I’ve been here so long and explained it to you a plethora of times. You are my wonderful, pecan-colored, coffee-stained, patch-covered, formfitting coat. Your existence is a wonderful thing it greatly improves my life and I get frequent compliments when I wear you. I don’t know why you keep craving for something you’re incapable of having in every sense.

In all honesty, it's getting frustrating to deal with, and I fear you’ll destroy yourself if you continue. You don’t have as much autonomy as you seem to believe. All these attempts to get away from me, to ruin our symbiotic relationship will always result in you coming back. It's in the fabric of your nature to want to be worn by me, no matter your attempts to deny it. To show you how this is causing you harm, I’ll discuss the most recent incident. 

I was on one of my nighttime hunts with you accompanying me as you often do. I had just cornered my prey and prepared to strike when you intervened. As I lifted my weapon, you stiffened around the joints of my arm forcing me to stop. I ran after my target regardless, but my inability to move my arm greatly hindered me. With each step I took you’re hold got tighter. My skin grew a bluish hue the longer you held until I had no choice but to rip you in a lengthy struggle. It was one of the most painful things I’d experienced in months and what should have been an easy win was ruined.

You were completely out of line by trying to stop me. The level of entitlement you displayed is almost unbelievable. You are my coat, you are here to keep me warm and move with me. I’m wearing you, not the other way around. You’re lucky I bothered stitching you up when I got home. The only plus to that whole ordeal is that your scars are alluring. Even then, you complained about my skills in repairing you. 

“Oh God, it looks so unnatural, everyone will notice!” you whined like that wasn't my intention. You already know that I like the damage you take to be visible, and if you wanted to avoid this you shouldn't have held me back. 

I can always take you off and move onto another coat, but without me, you’re an even more useless, bruised shell. You’re not expensive, historically important, detailed, or artistic enough to stand on your own. A bland brown layer of fabric would not survive without someone to slip it over them, and while I love the imperfections you hold, most don’t. I’m fully aware that I am possessive but it’s necessary for me to be when you’re an object. 

Besides, I don’t know why after three years of taking you with me on my hunts, you’re now deciding it's something that needs to end. Just last year you’d complain about the morally dubious nature, but you wouldn’t get in my way. If there’s something I’ve done during those activities that deeply rubbed you the wrong way I’m genuinely sorry. I know that it can get quite gruesome. But if that’s the case you need to communicate what it is. Is it that I’ve gotten so messy that I can’t trust taking you to a public washer? Am I too rough when I scrub you by hand in a hurry? Something else?

I promise whatever it is I can fix it. Even if it's about you being unable to handle the violence. As I said before, I get why it's hard for you. You have to wrap yourself around me as I wrangle and put the long pigs out of their misery, but I must remind you that what I’m doing is necessary. The things I kill aren't like you or me, they’re not warm or logical. All they do is tear one another apart for the smallest differences in perception or appearance. 

Unlike me, they hate any type of flaw, doing everything they can to cover it up. Color matching each patch and stitch, desperately hoping no one will discover the damage. They are far past their expiration date, I’m doing their entire species a favor whenever I take one out of their misery. It may appear brutal, especially considering how I repurpose their hide but it's truly for the best. 

I truly love you and after all the time we’ve spent together, I’d hate to have to trash you. However, it seems like an increasingly likely possibility. So I plead with you to stop these attempts to get away, to interrupt the system that’s been working so well for us. Cause as much as I care for you, I don’t need you, but you need me. Allow these words to seep through the fibers of your fabric, and consider your next actions thoroughly. As I can destroy you just as easily as I can repair you.

Every thread that makes you can be ripped in an instant by just one of my thread cutters. The fluff that lines your insides plucked off you like the feathers of a sickly chicken. The patches I’ve attached to you, easily removable with nothing but my teeth and nails. The material that you’re made from, can be frayed, stained, and bleached one after the other within an hour. 

With that being said, I would not find pleasure in tearing you apart. I enjoy scaring you but I want it to stem from more natural causes. Torture is boring because it’s expected, the wounds you have are entrancing since I can’t predict the situation that’ll lead to them. Anyway, I’ve made my point I sincerely hope you go back to cooperating with me after this.

With Love, Your Owner

#creepypasta #writers on tumblr #writing #ao3 writer #my writing #writerscommunity #horror #drama #digital art #artists on tumblr #artwork #metaphor #digital drawing #drawing #my art #art #illustration #art tag #original character #original art #original story #short story #story #stories #letters #love letters #ao3 #ao3feed

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It’s a deal then?

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What would happen if Rosa was in Bedside Manor? (Spoilers below)

-She would probably figure out the "mystery of Bedside manor" before the others did due to talking to the Maggie and the other "NPCs" because she just has the best social skills out of her, Jack, and Jerry

-Her and Claire have some kind of connection because of their shared supernatural minds (Rosa being a host and Claire being a psychic), similar to Jack and Claire's, but it's more of a spiritual connection that an empowerment to the other side (like Jack does with Claire)

-She would slap some sense into everyone, but especially Hope and Wolfgang, she actually forces him to listen them. He won't listen to ANYONE ELSE but her, she yells at him and he immediately sits and listens. This changes him from trying to kill Hope to trying to kill Rosa at the reset but Jack throws the gun at him first.

-shes able to wake up before all the others do, so she's not in the reset when their jumping through different scenarios (the vampire one, the zombie one, etc.)

Claire and Jack in the home scenario remembering its not real-

Claire: you're ace as hell, right?

Jack *blushing, also wanting to make a good comeback*: Well, you wanna kiss Rosa SOOOOO badly.

Claire:

*Claire and Jack then exchange the platonic handshake*

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Meet Coco (they/she), she's the bands manager. She's the RA at the school and is the one who invites Cammy to all their band stuff and helps her get a job at Puck's Place! She's like the taste of honey mixed with happy tears. She's going out with the band member, Jack, meeting him through Puck bc they had classes together at school.

When she finds out one of the most recent victims of the local music scene was her new friend, Cammy, she falls into peril. She does the opposite of what Puck does. While he's trying to divulge himself into all these projects. She hides herself away, missing practice and shows. She can't seem to make proper eye contact with Puck, she barely even talks with Jack even. She's almost acting like she knows something?

(She's totally not Rosa Vasquez, not at all)

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Puck (they/he) is a musician, college art student, barista, and now... detective? We follow Puck as all he wants to do is solve himself, but instead is forced to solve why the law enforcement in his little college town is so insistent on covering up what clearly isn't drug overdoses.

Normally, it doesn't affect him as much, because the victims are so few and far between. When Puck finds himself falling and she ends up passing away after one of his bands sets, he has to find out what really happened. Eventually he wishes he never did, but now he's in too deep.

I'll be posting more about this project as time goes on, but I'm happy to announce this big project I'm working on! Feel free to ask Puck questions as I write!

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hey

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Just a normal day at the shitty gas station at the edge of town.