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20 Years Old

[renii53]

Remake(? Of the new Rock-Afire Volo Showtape

[renii53]

So blue!

[renii53]

Dook siendo Dook

[freakafiredumbass]

me introducing beach bear to my kinks be like

[renii53]

I want to draw him like this

[freakafiredumbass]

Am I free to share a nsfw Beach Bear headcanon

Is this a safe space

[freakafiredumbass]

Sharing anyway because fuck it

He has a lifeguard kink

[bugsinpinkcum]

[p1neapple228]

Dook & BITCH BEAR

[lightningdust206]

[duendeconlentes]

bitch bear doodles bc i didn’t like how i was previously drawing him

[freakafiredumbass]

I’m gonna be real with you guys

If I had the resources and the know-how, I’d probably make a life sized fuck doll of that Bear

I’m that unwell

[renii53]

In all honesty, I would do the same

I understand you buddy

[freakafiredumbass]

SCREAM - Beach Bear X Reader

Characters: Beach Bear x Horror fan!Reader Summary: Movies don't make romantics, movies make romantics more creative... Warnings: References to murder and gore (this is a Scream inspired fanfic, if it aint obvi), slight suggestiveness, but it fades to black. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Word Count: 632

AN: This idea came to me at work, this fic is very self indulgent and I may be the only one to read this, but you guys are gonna eat whatever the fuck i cook for yall. bone apple teeth. no beta fic. If you want the full experience, Don't Fear The Reaper by Gus Black is a must listen while reading.

The clock read thirty-five minutes past nine, and it had been a long day. For once, you ‌had the peace of your room, silence, just you and the weird feeling of being watched while you reclined in bed, scrolling through your phone. You couldn’t shake that feeling. So, to relieve that anxiety, you went to the window to assure yourself that no one was there. “Boo!”

A face appeared at the glass, making you jump with a rather embarrassing yelp. “Hey, hey! It’s just me!” Beach Bear spoke through the glass. You opened the window, scowling at the intruding polar bear, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” you grouched. “Well, it occurred to me that I’ve never sneaked in through your window before.” Beach Bear smirked as he tried to come in through the small opening, “... And now I realize why.” He grunted with a bashful smile. You rolled your eyes and helped the oversized creature into your room with a huff. “What are you even doing here?” “I got bored,” he hummed as he paced around your room, glancing over the various knick-knacks and decor, “I was at home watching TV, and um… The Exorcist was on. Got me thinking about us.” With a scoff, you folded your arms over your chest and leaned against the now-closed window, shaking your head fondly. “I know you don’t watch that shit, you can’t fool me.” You pushed away from the wall, “But, I’ll give you points for what you’re trying to pull. Watched this movie over a hundred times.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body pressed against the solid, furry warmth of his. “Yeah? Doesn’t it get too repetitive after a while? Too predictable with the same slashing, same screams, replaying the same plot over and over again…?” He caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

“You notice new things when you watch a movie more than once.” You defended. “That’s true, but don’t you ever wanna shake it up now and then? Too much blood and violence might make you go crazy.” He leaned in to kiss you, but you halted his muzzle with your palm. “Movies don’t create psychos; movies—” “---Movies make psychos more creative, I know.” He groaned, “But seriously, watch a new genre sometime.... That honestly gets me thinking a little.” He leaned back a bit. “We are two different genres, you know. Two different stories, different people.” “The way you’re talking, it sounds like you’re about to break up with me.” You muttered. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying!” He quickly replied, raising his hands, “I’m just saying, it’s like we’re reading from two different scripts sometimes, and it’s hard to connect with a co-star that thinks they’re doing Halloween, but I want something like, I dunno, Dirty Dancing, maybe. I want us to have the same plot, just once.” “Dirty Dancing.” You repeated, raising a brow.

“Why not?”

Instead of replying, you closed the gap between the two of you, lips meeting softly at first, but breaking away before it got intense. “Horror romances exist.” You murmur against his mouth. “And what movies make that up?” he humored, his claws tracing the shape of your spine, forcing a shiver. “Corpse Bride, Dracula, Phantom of the Opera…” You let your fingers curl around his lei. “...Alright. Let’s be Edward Scissorhands, then.” He purred before your lips met again, and finally, this one went uninterrupted, hands wandering and exploring, breaths and murmurs mingling as one, eventually ending with you against the bed, and him looming over you with his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “Now,” His breath was hot against your ear, one hand gliding up under your shirt, “let’s see if I can figure out what makes you scream…”

[duendeconlentes]

doodles i did based off of @blutomindpretzel ‘s amazing n delicious fic <33

this took wayyy too long for how rough it looks lol

[freakafiredumbass]

is this anything

[cheese-soda]

*crosses eyes at you*

[dook-s-dad]

My first rough sketch, all hand drawn by a person, of one of the infamous pages within the RAE coloring book.

I’m so conflicted. I want to redraw everything, so the fans can have quality work to color and enjoy. At the same time, I am doing it for free, when someone should have been paid to do it in the first place.

Maybe the statement I am sending in itself, is worth the circumstance of doing it for free.

What are your thoughts? Perhaps I can team up with a few artists who are also passionate about it. We could all recreate these pages in our own styles to show just how much variety and talent is out there.

Reply and/or message me if interested.

[freakafiredumbass]

I always forget how big these guys are until I see actual people standing next to them

Like, if hes that tall just sitting down, he must be fucking massive standing up

[blutomindpretzel]

ouuu shit

[blutomindpretzel]

Sittin’ too Long

note: semi-sentient animatronic maintenance, showbiz pizza animatronic technician reader/user, takes place modern day, if anyone finds this post no you didn’t- hes so pretty everyone be quiet. don’t really know about this one, it’s kinda weird but like whatever. possibly incorrect animatronic anatomy- brat bear

HAPPY VOLO DAY!! so jealous of whoever can go have fun for me yall- also this has been in my drafts for way too long I had to bully myself into finishing this garbage

The weeks are grueling, and the summer sun is so unforgiving that you consider boarding up the windows just to keep the animatronics from disintegrating with how often they’ve been breaking down

“If I have to replace one more mask, I swear to god i’ll start burning them myself.”

“I take it your summer’s not going too well?” A coworker teases, though the smile was plain mocking with how stressed you were. Kids were out for summer, and a significant amount of your coworkers had either moved off to college, or downright quit to pursue better careers- something you honestly should’ve done as well.

you just roll your eyes, leaning on one of the tables in the back of the showroom and watching them run, painfully critiquing every misplaced jerking of a movement or slight tearing and melting on one of the masks.

luckily the children watching didn’t really notice- though were no less creeped out by the animatronic character’s clumsy performance on stage

“You could just shut the stage off.” She shrugs, you try not to glare her way.

“Right, because I make the decisions around here.” You huff, deciding to just turn your body her direction to avoid the mechs. “No. I’m just glad I don’t make the payments towards new masks and parts.”

She sighs with a soft careless smirk, one formed from restful sleep and non-metallic smelling palms. “If it helps, I don’t notice anything.”

You shoot her a sidelong glance but make no effort to argue further. “Just tell Jason i’ll have them working better by tomorrow morning- if I talk to ‘im, i’ll just end up coming off bitchy.”

She huffs a small laugh. “Well, to be fair-“

Your glare silences her well enough to raise her hands in surrender.

“Fine, but don’t come whining to me when he makes you stay overnight again.”

you knew it was going to be another late night, though that didn’t make the work itself any less of a needless chore when the manager could just as easily order better quality parts

you hadn’t worked on the animatronics in a week- meaning no one had even touched them in regards to maintenance

with a heavy sigh, you climb onto the stage long after the last of the guests left you to your misery work

taking mental notes of the various colorful ‘issues’, you step about the stage, trying not to trip over any props as you walk circles around the animatronics- careful not to create any more problems for the future

Dook needed a new mask- that was obvious- but you could just as easily either paint over cracking or torn areas to trick the light or replace it with an older unofficial one

Fatz’s jaw was permanently slack, so he needed repairs on his mouth lever- again.

Mitzi’s eyes had grown yellow- probably haven’t been replaced in a while- a fix so simple you almost hugged her rigid body

And then there was Beach Bear. He was… fine; visually, at least. Though, to the trained eye you’d forcibly grown since working here, it was obvious he had air-leaks somewhere…

Now the fun part.

You huff, grunting softly when you kneel at Beach Bear’s side at the control panel, running through each of his movements in an attempt to sift out any leakage.

The fixated furrowing of your brow twitches when you hear a small grunt above you.

“You could’ve just asked what was wrong instead of picking at the valves.” Beach Bear tilts his head down at you, expression slightly strained though no less teasing- it was clear he liked watching you struggle.

You flinch, nearly banging your head against his surfboard, cursing under your breath as you regain your composure, and glare up at him. “Could you let me work in peace for one night?”

He has the audacity to nudge your arm from the valve-bank with his clawed foot; “‘S at my back.” He explains cooly, demonstrating by leaning back on his board- followed by a loud hissing sound, “you’re welcome.” his smile is aggravating, eyes lazily squinting through the tousled curls of his blonde hair as he watches you.

Rolling your eyes, you stand and grab his shoulder to straighten him up again. Beach Bear tenses, eyes widening a fraction before gathering himself to flash a smirk up at you. “Gonna fix me up, or bang me up more?”

“You’re lucky I haven’t quit yet.” You grumble, hiking around his board to settle behind him, and carefully undoing the fur at the back of his neck.

You un-snap the pelt, opening it enough to expose his back through a sort of soft-white curtain. Ignoring the shiver that drags from him, you grab one side of the body shell and work it open from behind, revealing the mech inside- it looks fine, maybe was just being dramatic.

“Move back again.” Your murmur, and it takes a moment for him to comply- as if occupied by something else. When he shifts his body back on the board, the usual soft click from the pneumatic cylinders controlling the acton sounded strained, following the movement with another sharp hiss of released air.

“How long do I have left?” He quips, though his voice is uncharacteristically effortful.

You try not to punch out one of his cylinders and decide to run your thumb along the elongated rod, straining your wrist to reach inside his body shell as you search for any breaks in the pneumatic cylinder while he keeps his body reclined for you to work.

His shoulders tense and his smirk falls- groaning at your intrusion. “Take it easy.” He grits- though it sounds close enough to a whine- turning his head to the side to try to look at you- though you make no effort to meet his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would keep still on stage.” You nudge his shoulder with your free hand before removing your palm from him, furrowing your brows when he relaxes. “It’ll need to be replaced, but I could just as easily weld it- that is if you stop whining.”

He shoots an unimpressed smile over his shoulder and huffs; “just try not to break anything when you’re back there- don’t want you messin’ up my stage-presence.

You don’t fight the grimace your face forms at him and his ego. “Just be quiet and stay still.”

leaning down to fish at the fake plasticky-grass below his board, you retrieve your tool-bag

he’d been prone to leaks recently due to overexertion on stage- something you’d scolded him for night after night when you inevitably had to weld any leakage points or full on replace pneumatic cylinders or air hosing

you grumble to yourself, holding the back of his neck to keep him compliant as you tried your best to fix the breakage

he doesn’t fight- not that you’d expected him but to- but he was oddly… obedient like this; as if he’d anticipated it. he’s tense, sure- but Beach Bear keeps still- in fact, he’s leaning back to encourage better access.

ignoring the idea altogether, you snap closed the back of his body shell and button up his fur again, smoothing a palm over his broad back to ensure anything wasn’t free of coverage.

Not sparing a second for you to move out of his line of motion, Beach Bear leans back, testing the motion successfully this time.

“Not bad,” he draws out, lazy smirk on his face as he watches you climb out from behind him- inconsiderate asshole.

Zipping back up your tool-bag, you huff exasperatedly at his sudden shift in nature.

Before you can chew him out any more for his carelessness- something you truly should’ve gotten used to by now after countless months of fixing up this godforsaken robots- he keeps leaned back on his surfboard, strumming lazily on his guitar- as if to silence any further scolding he’d come to expect.

“Same time tomorrow night, then?” He hums, tilting his head slightly to look up at you through his curly hair. His tone is smooth, though no less condescending considering his attitude.

You scoff, standing your ground and crossing your arms. “You planning on breaking down again?”

He shrugs, tilting his guitar upwards a bit to strum a careless scale. “If I have to.” he explains, teasing smirk playing on his lips.

note: this took embarrassingly long, I could just never get the idea right and this is totally a weird one sooooo- I KNOW ITS ASS I JUST WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIM AGAIN OKAY