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smash that like button if you’re here for loving stricklar hours in this chili’s tonight
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as a matter of fact, send my some stricklar prompts my lovelies, i’m feelin it tonight
some stricklar with glamour mask!bular and culture shock, for @raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul.
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Strickler really should have seen this coming, but he can’t say he’s surprised when Bular stares down at the stuffed bear in his hands, lifts it to his face, and tears off its head with his teeth.
“This is vile,” says Bular, muffled by the stuffing and pink fluff packed into his cheek. He’s still chewing.
“I could have told you that,” says Strickler, dryly. “Human tongues have different tastes, which you would know if you could be bothered to ask before taking a bite out of everything you see.”
Bular’s face twists in disgust at the reminder. “How long must I wear this skin?” he growls. “It is revolting, it is beneath me, and it itches.”
“The deal was every other week,” says Strickler. It’s far from revolting, he can’t help but notice, surreptitiously looking up and down the mountain of human-shaped muscle that Bular has become. “Surely you haven’t forgotten so soon? Live among humans until you have learned that they are not food. This is not a difficult concept to grasp, even for you.”
Bular snarls at him this time, baring his teeth, and it’s both frightening and a bit ridiculous now that they aren’t sharp anymore. The stuffing and pink fabric between his teeth don’t help. “Were it not for my father--”
“Yes,” says Strickler, examining his fingernails. “Were it not. But it is, isn’t it?”
Bular curls his lip, glaring murder down at him; locks of his greasy black hair fall in his eyes as he does so. Strickler stares right back up at him, his heartbeat fast and his face calm, and waits politely.
Finally Bular looks away, every inch of his huge frame tense, and spits out a cute little plastic eye before turning to stomp away between the colorful tents.
Strickler glances sideways at the kid running the horseshoe booth, who is staring after Bular and the trail of stuffing in his wake with terror on their face, and sighs. Best keep up with him if I am to be his nanny, he thinks wearily, and throws a couple of twenty-dollar bills at the kiosk before he follows him deeper into the fair.
"Me and you
You and me,
Do bad things in the night time."
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Reblogs > Likes ✨
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CHAPTER THREE AAAAAAAAA
Plz read it ill lov u forever
*Shia Labeouf voice* DO IT!!!! (Regarding persmisson for more Glamor Mask/Stricklar Content)
AYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOD THIS IS A FUN IDEA AND WRITING BULAR BEING A SHITTY BRAT IS A JOY
@dragon-of-the-sky said: God I would love more of this!
@ endlessnightarts said: ooooh this could go good places! excellent prompt!
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aaaaaaaa thank you guys!! credit for the original prompt goes to @raging-dumpster-fire-of-the-soul; the thought for the circumstances behind it popped into my head while i was writing and i like it a lot, and i might write more of it sometime with their permission if they’re cool with it :D
