I would literally kill for one of our barbie shirts on a print! Is there any possibility of that in the future or would you run into copyright issues? (or if you just didn't want to- no pressure either way!)
thanks so much! i added them to my bonfire shirt shop — same disclaimer as the inprnt prints applies here, which is that if i get contacted by m*ttel i'll be taking these down because i definitely don't want to get sued — but for the time being, here's the links!
Grab your limited edition final girl merchandise before the campaign closes. Featuring Maroon Classic Unisex Tees, professionally printed in
Grab your limited edition came back wrong merchandise before the campaign closes. Featuring Cardinal Premium Unisex Tees, professionally pri
Grab your limited edition gothic horror merchandise before the campaign closes. Featuring Maroon Crewneck Sweatshirts, professionally printe
I love boxer!abby and rugby!abby but have we considered....roller derby!abby?
oh my god. my whip it! heart. the way u have awoken something within me oh my fucking god 🤧 being the new girl on the team and abby’s all hard and mean and like 😡 this isn’t cutesy skating girl, this takes guts, but all the fans really like u and it turns out u can take a hit when an opponent throws an illegal move. abby’s not having it, and she decks them to the ground, and you’re like 👀 i thought you hated me and abby’s like, we’re team mates, right? it’s what we do IM PISSING
im literally reeling at anons ask about DQ because like...that can't be a good practice.like...not only ethics-wise but. There are SO many easier ways to draw foot-traffic to your products aside from being weirdly racist? Especially in a fandom as small as this one where she's already well known as "the weird Chilean cock girl" like...nobody is gonna go "Oh SHE'S selling jewlery? Well I have to buy!" like...the opinions on her have solidified and they aren't changing. I'm just..THATS her business model?? Girl just make a tiktok or a goddamn instagram and do actual advertising im so confused by her thought process of purposefully making everything harder than it has to be im-
🥐 cause I fucking love croissants just like I love YOUUUUUUUUU
TJ 🥐 listen… @pettyprocrastination
There is something in you. I see it so vividly that my tongue gets tied whenever i try to put it into words. I don’t think there are any. You’re very special and by George i wish you could see what i see.
You’re absolutely amazing and so fucking gifted. Whenever you talk to me about your horror writings and ideas i just melt because you care so much and it seeps through your messages.
Every time i see someone who resembles you on campus i get so flustered, i want to run up to them and tell them who they remind me of but i can’t because that’s weird lol.
There’s so much goodness in you that i can’t wait for you to step out into the real world and show everyone what you can do. Don’t let any of these professors or naysayers tell you who you are. You know who you are. You know what you write.
Keep crafting. Keep skating. Keep writing. These are all things that make you, you and all the things that you enjoy doing. Continue to let yourself enjoy them.
You’ll go far, sweetheart. To the stars if you want. They’ll carry you.
thinking about leaving lipstick marks or hickies on sweets and then the other sunburst boys seeing the marks on him and being like :O "IS OUR BOY GETTING LAID!?!?!" just absolute LAD ENERGY as the crowd him. (also is you make sweets some baked goods or anything he gotta hide em because mfs WILL SNIFF THEM OUT AND TRY TO TAKE THEM)
THIS IS SO ADORABLE AND AHHHH YES sweets has little secret hiding places he stashes his food bc those boYS are piranhAS--even blanche goes feral for the baked goods kejrhkejh ALSO I WROTE YOU A LITTLE DRABBLE
ct-5337 sweets / reader
a/n: no warnings just shits and giggles jekewjhr
He leaves your apartment in the early morning, the sky still an indigo blue, polluted with the flashing neon lights and the jets of passing ships overhead. The window by your bed is cracked open, the cool air is sweet and humid, swelling with the promise of rain later. Sweets sweeps his eyes over to you.
You’re still asleep, a mess of blankets twisted around your body--his lips quirk. You look like a burrito.
Sweets sits himself on the edge of the bed and skims his fingers over your forehead. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear and kisses your temple. Lovers look so much softer when they sleep, he thinks--and you’re no exception. His own personal angel with lips made from threads of gold and eyes the color of his own personal galaxy. He’s tempted to wake you, kiss you properly--but he knows that’ll only bring a harder goodbye. He hates it when you cry.
Your eyebrows pinch together as he plants another kiss over your hairline, grumbling in your sleep and attempting to wiggle away in your swath of blankets from the disturbance. Sweets sighs and leaves your tiny apartment, silent as a shadow with the gift you gave him tucked under his arm.
This time he wont let his brothers pick him clean. It’s his present after all. Baked especially for him. A sweet treat for your Sweets, you told him.
He smiles under his helmet and by the time he reaches the temple, the sun is barely crawling over the horizon. He makes it into his assigned barracks without a blip but kriff--he should've left your apartment earlier.
The shuffle of plastoid is deafening in the small space as the squad sluggishly pulls on their armor. The swoosh of the blast doors shutting behind him draw some tired eyes towards him and drift to box he holds. Damnit.
“Mornin’, Sweets,” Kami greets. He fists his eyes and stretches his back with a loud yawn. “You’re up early.”
“Went on a walk,” Sweet’s shrugs, nonchalant and planning out a sixteen step maneuver to reach his bunk and stash away the cookies before his brothers realize what he has.
“Or he never came home at all last night,” The medic’s ever sharp eyes pinpoint the box he holds. With a wink, said medic saunters over with a greasy smile. Void throws an arm around Sweets’ shoulders and jostles his arm. “Say--how ‘bout you gimme one of those cookies and I guarantee, I’ll give ya the good bacta next time you’re hurt.”
“’M pretty sure that’s medical malpractice,” Jaws mumbles, still curled up in his bunk. He grunts as Bruiser whacks a pillow over his head with a firm thwunk.
“Get up, asshat--you’re sitting on my blacks.”
Distracted with warding off Void’s nimble fingers, he’s too late to realize Fuse has weaseled his way behind him--his heart stutters has Fuse’s fingers pull at his collar, revealing the smatter of hickies down the line of his throat.
“Ohoho,” Fuse snickers. “That’s not the only sugar Sweets brought home. Is it?”
A mountain of shocked faces swing towards Sweets--slack jawed and resembling a school of fish. His cheeks flush a deep red as he dips his chin and glowers at the tips of his boots in embarrassment. Bruiser is the first one to laugh. He slaps a large hand over Sweets’ head, nearly crushing his cranium, as he ruffles his hair.
“Sweets is getting laid!” The heavy gunner belts, the ends of his scars scrunching around his eye as he grins. “And they baked cookies for you! Wish I could get someone like that--last time I went on a date, she stabbed me.”
Sweets bats away his brothers hands, and slinks to his bunk tucked away in the corner. Hiding the cookies under the bed will have to do for now. There’s a caterwaul of disbelieving objections and celebratory cheers that do nothing but embarrass. Oh, Maker--he wants to shrivel into a little ball and fade out of existence.
They all freeze and salute as the blast doors swoosh open to reveal Commander Blanche and Sergeant Blue. Blanche quirks a dark brow as Blue rolls his eyes and asks with an exasperated exhale. “Who’s getting laid?”
“Sweets.” His brothers accuse in unison.
His blush burns hotter than a wildfire as Blanche’s mismatched eyes focus on the sharpshooter.
Blanche’s shoulders jolt with a surprised huff. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks...” Sweets grumbles, pitching forward to bury his face into his pillow. It’s not as comfy as yours and it certainly doesn't smell like you either. Smells like mothballs and the GAR issued shampoo. His chest tightens with yearning.
Uhg.
Well...he saved the cookies at the expense of his pride. Sorta...depends on how you look at it.
