#yeah like. these guys aren't hard to draw so i did it. that's about all i can think to say.

[nobody-knose--archive]

“pwease, sir, may i have some mowe?” said somebody, probably, upon learning i was generally neutral on the prospect of drawing more homestar runner

#homestar runner #that nk there is my artist's signature. i hear all the cool kids have one these days. it stands for nobody knose #tis i #yeah like. these guys aren't hard to draw so i did it. that's about all i can think to say. #i had to put some actual effort into coach z but the others were quick & easy #feat. the usual ms paint default colors except for a few bits of marzipan & some parts of coach z #ms paint can't do purples well nor were the greens varied enough for coach. only two greens is too few greens #to the world and back again #image descrips in the alt text asper usual #uq #delight of sight i'm really seeing yeah #oh and for reference Don't Call Me Sir i did that for the dickens reference and that's it. i won't tolerate any more sir-ing

[lawrites]

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

-----------------------------------------

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

-------------------------------------

And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

---------------------------------------

#lawrites #plus size reader #x reader #reader #plus size fic #gotham #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #gotham rogues x reader #gotham edward nygma

[lawlietscaramels]

The person that asked about L with a reader with motor tics made me want to ask about headcanons for Mello and Near being close with someone who has both verbal and motor tics?

Reader with Tics ╾ Mello and Near

I was going to put verbal and motor in the title but it was so long... M & N (m'n'm haha) separately let's go!

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

Mello

the main canon thing I know about Mello is he's a bit of a dick. so I hate to say it but he's probably going to poke fun at you. until he realises he's genuinely upsetting you, at which point he mumbles something and stops.

you might find a box of chocolates outside your door as a wordless apology.

there will still be the occasional jab

but he's going to go "secretly a sweetheart" mode

because if he's close with you, he's close with you for a reason and that reason is that he cares about you. (even if he kind of hates himself for it)

So, like L, he'll start asking questions, some insensitive, but he's trying to learn so he is no longer such a dick. unlike L he won't do any research at all lmao so the most obvious things will leave him with a shocked Pikachu face...

I actually think if your verbal tics are words as opposed to simply humming or clearing your throat etc, he'd start saying those words more often. just using them in general conversation no matter what they happened to be.

that's actually something that a lot of people do, did you know? we tend to use words more often if we're close with people who say them often

someone will have to tell him eventually that drawing attention to tics can make them worse, at which point he'll freeze up for half an hour and stare at the wall - probably in embarrassment, it's hard to tell. for a few days after that he'll be really awkward just because he's not used to not talking about things.

Mello is the kind of guy who completely blows past taboos, but knowing that focusing on your tics makes it harder for you means he won't want to bring it up anymore

but yeah after maybe a week or so things go back to normal

well as normal as things can ever be with Mello around...

Near

Near, on the other hand, will seem not to notice you have tics at all no matter how disruptive they are to you or how often they show

but of course when you tell him he just quietly says "I know" and goes back to building a tower out of pipe cleaners. though he might invite you to join in considering you're already there

He's so much better about it than Mello lol

he just doesn't really care either way if you have tics or not...

you're still you.

I also hc that Near has some kind of motor disability that affects his legs so he probably is more understanding of potential discrimination or struggles you may have faced

if one of your tics led to you knocking down one of his buildings he'd get a little upset but definitely not as much as if anyone else did it.. he'd probably make you help him rebuild it... that or make you sit five feet away for a while

Like L, I think Near would probably get a little bit scared if your verbal tics were yelling out words. no, actually, he'd probably get a little shocked at any sudden movement or sound. he's not obvious about it though, his body just jolts a little and he goes still for a moment, then returns to normal

he doesn't really ask any questions because he probably already knows everything he wants to know, but he's happy to sit and listen while you talk about anything - tic-related or not - if you'd like that. he will probably not talk back though haha

er

I think if he heard anyone, particularly Mello, giving you trouble over your tics, he'd throw dice at them

... anyway

yeah he's just chill about it in general. Doesn't see it as anything that needs particular attention: he's more interested in your hobbies and whether you like solving puzzles than the fact that sometimes your body acts in ways you can't control.

bodies are pretty stupid, aren't they?

mmm, I think that's it. thanks for reading :)

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

#sorry this took so long sfdhshgkh #death note #death note headcanons #writing #dn #lei writes #near death note #nate river #mello death note #mihael keehl #near x reader #mello x reader #x reader #death note x reader #headcanons #anons

[deadbydangit]

Hi! I am glad to see your blog is taking off!

May I request the "walking in on reader changing" prompt but with them noticing scars on reader (accident or from injuries) with Ghostface, Leon and Pyramid Head?

Thank you for inspiring me to draw

৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

Aww. I'd love to see your art sometime! And thank you. I'm close to 100 followers. It's insane that this crazy little idea I had one day turned into something successful. I can do that, I'm just going to tweak the prompt a bit.

With a clumsy Reader.

Ghostface, Leon, Pyramid Head

Ghostface

"Ha! Loser."

Did you actually think he'd be sympathetic?

Yeah right.

His favorite thing to do online is watch videos of people falling down.

"Ha! Babe, come watch this guy eat it!"

He's an asshole.

But Danny loves you.

If you get seriously hurt, he'll be there.

He doesn't have any medical knowledge, so he'll pester Sally till she helps.

And he's really good at pestering people.

Sometimes, he'll even trip you on purpose.

So he can catch you.

"Aww, you're falling for me."

"Saves your life, guess you owe me a favor now."

Like he didn't just trip you.

Sometimes, he trips you just so he can carry you.

It isn't his fault you're so damned cute.

Leon S Kennedy

It doesn't matter how many times you fall.

He'll always be there to catch you.

Like a princess.

Like he caught Ashley.

Even if he's a few feet away.

He's amazing at it really.

All that training comes in handy.

Leon didn't think he'd be using it to protect his clumsy s/o.

But he doesn't mind.

But if you could watch where you were going that would be nice.

He's always worried about you.

Always.

He has enough medical knowledge to patch you up.

He's not a doctor.

But he can provide the basics.

Some days, when he doesn't feel like dealing with you getting hurt, he'll just pick you up and carry you.

Don't argue with him.

He does it because he loves you.

Pyramid Head

He is in a world of panic.

Humans aren't supposed to get hurt that much.

Or fall that much.

Or walk into things.

You worry him every second of the day.

He'll consult every killer and survivor who would have any idea about this type of thing.

He can't stand to see you get hurt.

It's going to take a lot to calm him down.

Someone will have to explain that you're clumsy.

It's just how you are.

He still doesn't like it.

If it were up to him, you'd be carried everywhere.

But others told him that isn't good for you.

He just wants what's best for you.

He just loves you so much, it's hard to see you falling and getting hurt all the time.

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd survivor #dbd ghostface #dbd leon s kennedy #dbd pyramid head

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| 25. Sex Pollen ||

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Matt Murdock x Frank Castle X female reader

Warnings: male masturbation, p in v, oral (male receiving, female receiving, and m/m), creampie, cum eating.

Author's note: this is just ridiculous 🤣 dedicated to @idrinkcoffeeandobsess thank you for the idea!

You're pulled into the back of Frank's van by the scruff of your jacket, clouds of reddish smoke swirling around you. "What the hell was that? Tear gas or something? Shit, eugh it tastes awful!"

Frank has his hands wrapped around your arms, looking you up and down. "Definitely not tear gas. You'd fuckin' know if it was. You alright though?"

You cough again and nod, "I'm fine, just need some water, or maybe something stronger at this rate. Did you see where they went?"

Frank shakes his head. "Couldn't see fuckin' shit out there. Red? You okay? You look like shit man."

Matt's curled up against the inside of the van, head tilted down between his knees. His hair is all ruffled and sweaty from his mask and you notice his breathing is shallow and fast.

"Matt?" You reach to touch his arm and get knocked back away from him as he scrabbles to get away from you.

He steadies himself in the corner. "Shit, I'm sorry! Please just don't, please don't touch me… I need to, need to get home."

You move back as Frank crawls into the front cab behind the wheel and starts it up.

"Okay, we're on our way. It's alright." You clear your throat again, suddenly feeling warm.

"D'you think it was some kind of pepper spray? I mean, it's not painful but I feel really hot, do you guys feel that too?"

Frank pulls at his collar. "Yeah, a bit. Figured it was just all the runnin' from those fucks."

Matt's pulling off his gloves like they're burning him. His forehead is beaded with sweat and he's shifting about uncomfortably, clawing at his suit. "Hurry up Frank, I can't stand it in here."

The three of you enter Matt's apartment via the fire escape and the roof so you don't draw any unwanted attention from the neighbours. Leather, kevlar and blood aren't the most subtle of fashions. Matt hurries awkwardly down the stairs and into his bedroom, almost ripping the door off its rollers.

You and Frank gulp down some water and you pull off your jacket before you sit on the couch. It was so fucking hot.

“No! Y-you both need to leave. Now.”

"D’ya think I should go check on him?” You start to rise but then you hear Matt’s voice, unsure and apprehensive in its tone.

“Matt, what’s wrong, did you get hit?” You pull open the door of the bedroom a little way. There’s a trail of his clothing strewn on the floor leading to the bed where he’s sat in his boxers on the opposite side facing away from you. He’s still breathing hard, his arm is trembling but you can’t see why.

“Matt, what are you-”

“Fuck! I told you to go- you can’t be here, your scent is too fucking strong, the stuff we were hit with- it’s- oh god…”

You watch open mouthed, suddenly feeling extremely heated as he leans back on the bed, and you can see his hand fisting over his cock rapidly. The dampness between your thighs suddenly increases tenfold and Matt chokes out a moan as he locks on to your scent.

“Oh…”

“Great. Fucking great.” You hear the grumble from behind you. “Been hit by a fuckin’ sex grenade.” Frank announces.

You turn towards him, suddenly very aware of just how good he smells up close, but you can't believe what the words that are coming out of his mouth. “A WHAT?! What the fuck are you actually serious? What the hell is going on?”

Matt's voice turns low. "I told you… get out, I'll- I'm gonna deal with this. Fuck! Just go!"

“Sorry Red, no-ones goin' anywhere right now. Gotta fuck it out of our system, it’s the only way. Doin' it on yer own ain't gonna work, believe me.” He starts pulling his sweat-damp shirt off over his head.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? I don’t even… is this a real thing?" You can't believe what you're seeing, or feeling, as both Matt and Frank are looking so very delicious to you right now that your underwear is drenched to a ridiculous degree.

"Shit. How do- how the fuck do we do this?"

Frank comes up closer behind you. "Guess you're past the point of embarrassment now sweetheart, huh?" he says, helping you with your vest that you had already started peeling off.

You turn around to face him, his eyes are deep black pools that you want to dive into. And those fucking lips have no right being anywhere else but on your pussy right now.

"You've been through this before?!" you ask him, still slightly incredulous as you feel his heated gaze.

He nods, the fingers of his incredibly large hands ghosting down the side of your neck and you can't stop yourself from leaning into his touch.

"Yeah," he swallows, his eyes roving over every bit of you with a deep hunger. "The effects can only be counteracted by a different source of DNA. You can't get yourself off, has to be someone else…"

Your realise your hands are sliding down his chest, bumping over his ridged abs and vee-line towards the waistband of his black jeans, but Frank stops you with a seemingly herculean effort.

"Nah, not yet. Take care of him first," he nods at Matt who is panting heavily and whining. "he's gonna be feelin' it worst of all."

You strip off your pants, boots and underwear, crawling across the bed towards Matt. He reaches for you desperately, pulling you over him, immediately grinding against himself against your core.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry I'm sorry, I can't stop… please, please will you… fuck you smell so fucking good-"

"I- I, I'm on birth control but do you have any-"

Frank grunts, stalking towards the bed with an extremely obvious bulge in his pants.

"Won't work sweetheart, DNA remember? Gotta be au naturel."

You nod slowly. "Fuck… okay, okay…"

"I'm clean, I'm- oh god-" Matt's quick reassurance is enough to have you taking his angry looking cock in your hand and slowly sinking down on him. His hands jump to grip onto your hips, he's practically vibrating under you, holding himself back, waiting for your permission.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"Matt," you hush him, even though you're similarly overwhelmed by the intense sensation. "you don't need to apologise, it's okay, none of this is our fault. Let me help you."

He fills you so deliciously, throbbing inside you. When you slowly start to move he groans, digging his fingers into your flesh as the fog begins to clear and he can see you laying out a path to his release.

The hot desperate itch you're feeling is being scratched so fucking good you can't help moaning aloud, your head snapping up as Frank's hand comes to the side of your face, his other palming his cock through his pants. You paw at his belt, looking up at him with wide eyes as he starts to unbuckle it, watching you ride the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Matt's hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling you down to press against his body, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Y'feel amazing," he murmurs, relaxed now, his hips now undulating up to meet yours in increasingly powerful thrusts.

Frank moves onto the bed above Matt, knees either side of his head. His fingers stroking gently down your spine gets your attention, his cock bobs inches away from your mouth, dripping precum. Your mouth drops open almost automatically and he groans deep as you move forward, swirling your tongue around his glistening tip before you take hold of his shaft and wrap your lips around him.

"Holy fucking shit." Frank's eyes start to close as the hot wet feel of your mouth is everything he's been needing since the street. He snaps them open again as he can't not watch. Your tongue teases around the head of his aching cock while you're still fucking yourself on Red, the whole scene makes him twitch and leak. You moan as you take him deeper into your mouth, stroking what you can't fit in, and he feels it right through him. Matt guides your hips so you don't have to think, too wrapped up in the tight, velvety heat of you to worry about Frank being so close, his musky scent filling his head.

You whimper as Matt picks up his pace, fucking you hard and fast, chasing his end. You feel his rough fingertips graze over your swollen bud and you groan around Frank's cock. He starts moving his hips, fucking your face and somehow it's all you need.

"Fuck baby, if I'm honest, I didn't need to be hit by that stuff to want this from you."

You pull your lips off him for a second to reply, "neither did I."

"How about you, altar boy?" Frank grills.

Matt feels up your tits as he continues to rut into you. "I want you… both." he confesses, gaining enough clarity to bring his thumb to rub over your clit as he fucks you so hard and fast you can't respond, so hard that-

"Fuck, fuck I'm gonna cum."

Matt groans in relief, hips stuttering wildly as you can almost feel him painting the inside of you as you reach your orgasm simultaneously.

He winces slightly as you climb off and pull Frank down onto the bed.

"Yeah..." He's staring, watching the cum drip down your inner thigh and can't hold back any longer, hauling you up to sit with your legs either side of his head so he can lick it up.

"Oh… oh shit," you moan as he works his mouth over you, fucking you with his tongue. Frank echoes your sentiments with a deep groan feeling him jerk under you as Matt climbs over him taking his thick cock into his mouth to suck.

Frank's got no qualms now, taking whatever you and the devil want to give him. And whatever magic Matt works with his lips, tongue and hands is translated right through from Frank's mouth to your pussy, and you're high as a kite on it. The three of you are a writhing mess of unbridled lust, easily working each other closer to purging the effects of the sex pollen.

And after it's worn off?

You don't think any of you could stop if you tried.

#kinkwasthereaminuteago #matt murdock x frank castle x reader #matt murdock x female reader #frank castle x female reader #daredevil x female reader #the punisher x female reader #daredevil smut #the punisher smut

[marihem]

Let me be the one to ask. How did you come up with this Queerplatonic Frans concept? What drew you into making this?

Aww thank you for asking such a delicious question, pal! Hope you're ready to listen to my 1 am rambles XD

Alright so, to be completely honest...I actually don't truly know how Romance works to execute it myself 😬

Haha yup, sadly, the concept of Romance and Romantic Attraction didn't naturally come to me my whole life and I had a hard time understanding them. (Skill issue, amiright?) So I learned about them through fiction. And even then, my understanding of Romance was a little bit different from what it's usually is (spoiler: it wasn't actually Romance, the word I needed was "Queerplatonic").

I've drawn ship arts before I started drawing Frans and let me tell you, almost all of them were 2 characters just standing next to each other, no hugs, no kisses. Maybe they'll look at each other with fondness. And I was like "hell yeah, I've achieved Romance 😌" pfft.

My 2020 Frans works were where my ship art skills got improved. But you can still see that they aren't explicitly romantic (like, the first time I drew a Frans forehead kiss was for a request). Whatever, I was drawing stuffs about my fav lil guys and I was happy... and yet a tiny part of me wasn't feeling it, like it felt...odd to call them romantic. All these shippy art and I still felt uncomfortable to draw something extremely Romantic. (...this kinda sounds similar to a comphet kind of situation, you get what I'm saying?)

2 years later, I learned about the term "queerplatonic" and just like that, everything made sense =o Now THAT'S the kind of relationship I've been thinking about all these years and it felt magical. Suddenly, with this new knowledge, drawing shippy art felt more comfortable for me, cozy even. Cuz now, the "romance" I'm making is like something a little special for me.

And then I thought "what if I...👀" I grabbed Frisk and Sans like figurines and used them to make my own little ideas of a queerplatonic relationship as they were the perfect materials to work with for me.

I've actually been busying myself with thinking up ideas for them a year before I revealed it to my mutuals, even long before I revealed it publicly 😅

Still, my Roommate Banter AU Frans is still classic romantic. I've only been making funny lil contents of them but I swear! They're secretly crushing on each other, there's romance underneath! I just suck at Romance 😭

So yeah, TL:DR, I don't completely understand romance so I did what I felt comfortable and did actually get the most, approach a ship with a queerplatonic lens.

Tho I'm still learning about Romance cuz there're other ships I'd love to draw shippy art for XD

Anyways, yeah thank you to anyone who read all of this and thank you dear anon for indulging me with your ask <3 Have a lovely day/night ^^

#asks #thank you for the ask! #frans #ah it felt so good to talk about this #even if it looks like i'm just talking into the void #but we all know that void is full of many wonderful things hehe #also i'm so tired and i should sleep but i couldn't so here i am #it's past 2 am by the time i'm done typing cuz i kept getting distracted #again thank you if you read all of this including the tags #imma pass out now #good nighttt #i hope there aren't typos and grammar mistakes above #aroace struggles amirite? #qpr frans

[barrelrollgif]

i hate the side of the deltarune fandom that is like “kris is evil!!1!1! kris is a psychopath who would kill everyone if we werent controlling them!!1!”

like, no. that is actually not factual. stop giving me fanon chara flashbacks. stop making kris out to be a sadistic killer.

this is really inaccurate and honestly kind of annoying. so, here’s some things that show how inaccurate the “kris is evil” speculation is:

kris has broken out of our control before and never directly harms anyone. they had the chance to. they DIDN'T.

the snowgrave route smile? that’s an illusion created by the fence. this may be an intentional illusion, but no, kris is not enjoying this. kris isn’t happy, kris isn’t indifferent. kris is noticed by susie and ralsei to look upset after the frozen chicken incident.

pie eating? tire slashing? dark world opening? if i was being possessed and i just broke free for a moment i would eat an entire pie and be a bit destructive. also, the tire slashing and dark world opening may have been deliberately planned. not sure what the plan is but they aren't trying to hurt people. like i said in my first point, kris did have a knife and instead of stabbing toriel and susie, kris opened a dark world and slashed the tires of their mom’s car. if kris was trying to hurt them, stabbing them with a knife is more efficient than slashing tires and opening a dark world.

at the end of chapter one, kris defends susie. if kris was a sadistic killer, they would’ve just watched. kris actively defended susie.

kris probably isn’t the knight (implied to be a bad guy.) the king and queen probably would’ve recognized them, as they have seen the knight before. kris is not trying to bring about the roaring (which seems to be the knight’s goal) and the roaring would kill everyone so… yeah.

kris tried to tell undyne about dark worlds, and it is implied that kris tried to tell undyne because dark worlds can be dangerous and they didn’t want people to get hurt.

i probably missed some examples but overall, kris probably isn't evil. sure, it’s implied that kris has a dark sense of humor and a mischievous streak, but kris doesn’t seem to want to hurt people. if anything, they seem to be a silly kind of pacifistic outside of our choices.

more fanon things i despise under cut (slightly problematic stuff in first paragraph, very problematic stuff in second paragraph)

oh yeah also, another common fanon misinterpretation. referring to kris with he/him pronouns. no what the fuck why? they are literally only referred to with they/them pronouns in canon. it literally is not that hard. where are you getting “he” from? where?

drawing kris with huge tits is another fanon misinterpretation! if you do this, i will block you. what the actual fuck is wrong with the people who do this? i hate to break it to the fan artists who do this but they’re a minor. that is implied to be nonbinary. but most of all they’re a MINOR. don’t do that. just don’t. that is gross.

anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#kris deltarune #kris dreemurr #deltarune #deltarune theory #canon vs fanon #meep morp #anyway this took half an hour im tired now

[tyrantchimera]

Root of Evil symbol

Watched Helluva Boss recently and decide to look into the symbol of the "Root of Evil" a bit. It appears in episode 1 and episode 3 ("Murder Family" and "Spring Broken" respectively). Was just wanting to draw it at first but then I started wondering about the symbolism. So I've broken it down a bit below:

The whole symbol kind of resembles trees or antlers but some parts seem mildly different than others stylistically, which can be hard to see when the symbol is combined (or doodled over like I did lol).

The centre of the symbol seems to resembles an upside-down cross or sword. Knowing this as an evil symbol I want to say it's supposed to be the cross, but both iterations of this symbol show a clear gradient in the thickness of the line so the sword imagery cannot be entirely dismissed. Or maybe it's a dagger? Backstabbing/betrayal is definitely a theme that goes well with evil in general.

The lowest tier of 'branches' on the symbol is different from the other because the 'tines' of the antler-like structure are very rectangular. It's like they've been filed down, or perhaps they aren't meant to resemble spiky horns/branches at all. The more I look at it the more I wonder if they're supposed to represent feathers or something. Upside-down angel wings would certainly be thematic with the upside-down cross/sword imagery from earlier.

The middle tier of 'antlers' is the smallest, but also most central. It perhaps represents hands pushing outwards, but personally it looks a lot more like deer horns to me, though the one line that goes out both sides is oddly notable since all other spiky bits on this symbol are only on one side of their respective 'branches'. Honestly kind of reminds me of a radio antennae mixed with antlers. (I may be obsessed with Alastor of course, so I am definitely biased lol)

At first glance the top 'branch' also looks like antlers, but the curve of the base, combined with the curve of the spikes, makes me think of bug legs more than anything. You ever seen a grasshopper leg? Or seen too much Hollow Knight art? You probably know what I mean.

I know Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel take place in the same universe, so as a chiefly Hazbin fan I can't help but make connections here that might not actually exist. But that's probably just me making wild, whacky, unfounded theories. After all, it's not like we know of a group where at least one of them has something to do with bugs, another has wings, and the central character has both antlers, a radio theme, and/or an upside-down cross in their outfit somewhere...

Wait. Oh. Yeah we do.

So I'm pretty convinced that these guys have something to do with the "Root of Evil" that the one crazy family in Helluva Boss episode 1 intended to honour. Even if Alastor is the only one who really knows what is going on, and is dragging the others along for the ride...

On that note, there sure is a lot of red eye symbolism in both Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel when this subject comes up. Helluva boss correlates these two concepts with a decent amount of certainty too imho. Have a couple images to prove my point. Need I say more?

Actually I'm not saying more because I'm just lazy. lol. Anyways, I hope you all had fun with this concept. Build on it as you will...

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #alastor #husk #nifty #theory #only one thing kind of bugs me #the eyes are supposed to represent evil #but mostly you only see them in the pride ring #do these eyes only care about the sinners? #have I just missed seeing them in Helluva Boss? #Or is the being associated with these eyes lurking in the Pride ring? #your guess is as good as mine #HH theory #roo #root of evil

[frogychu]

Antirrhinum Ch. 2

ellie x gn!reader

ch. 2 of 4

other parts: 1 / 3 / 4

words: 2.2k

Hanahaki (花吐き病) ; disease affecting the lungs, proven to be caused by keeping one's true feelings hidden for too long Or Where you and Ellie have been friends for years until she finally slips up, coughing up petals in front of you.

a/n: really putting the slow in slow burn for this one guys and ofc the work will always be cross posted on AO3 here!

Snowflakes swirl around you as you wait for the door to open. The awkwardness of waiting around is starting to make you regret coming to Ellie’s garage in the first place.

It's taking an abnormally long time; did she know it was you? Should you knock again?

Plus its fucking freezing. Maybe this was a mistake.

The lights aren't even on inside, maybe she should be left to sleep if she's that sick.

Ah. Should've brought something for her.

Just as you're overthinking about soup, the lights turn on inside, and the door opens just a crack.

“Joel I told you, i'll be fine, it's just-”

You decide to cut her off before you gain any more knowledge you’re not supposed to. “Uh it's not Joel.”

She stops talking and the door swings open, revealing her dishevelled figure.

You won't lie, she looks absolutely terrible. She has horrible eye bags, seemed to have slept in yesterday's patrol clothes, and is much paler than usual. You're not used to seeing her in such a poor state, and it is quite the sight.

It's making you almost feel bad for bothering her.

She looks at you sheepishly, “Oh, hi.”

Not wanting to make her feel any worse than she already does, you decide to cut to the chase. "Jesse told me you're sick?"

"Oh, uh, not really. I'm fine-"

You swear you're starting to turn blue as you're talking out here, you even start shivering. Ellie cuts herself off as she very obviously takes notice.

"Oh shit, did you want to come inside maybe?" She insists.

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude, I just wanted to check on you."

She pauses for a long while. Her expression saddens as she closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath.

"Please."

Oh.

You waste no time grabbing the door handle and letting yourself in, closing it behind you. She's being oddly vulnerable with you, you wouldn't dare give her a hard time now.

It's awkward for a while. She motions at you to sit on the couch, so you do, after taking off your coat. You're watching her pace around slowly like she doesn't know what to do with you.

You're looking around the room, unsure of what to say either. Her room is cute, messy but cozy, it's dimly lit by her fairy lights and lava lamp, just enough to illuminate all of the art she put up above her desk.

One of the drawings catches your attention; it's a portrait of you.

When did she-

She finally spoke up, breaking your train of thought, “Uh hey, do you smoke?”

“Well, yeah, but are you sure we should be doing this while you're sick?”

“I'll be fine.” She answers abruptly, as she walks over to her desk and puts in a random CD into her CD player. ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden starts playing quietly in the background.

She quickly walks over to her bed and grabs a small tin from her nightstand, sitting beside you and handing you the tin. You open it and take out a pre-roll, holding it to your mouth and searching for a lighter.

Ellie reaches into her back pocket, “Here.” She reaches over and lights it for you and you can't help but feel your heart race a mile a minute at the closeness.

The smoke invades your lungs as you breathe in, holding it before exhaling and handing the blunt over to Ellie. “You sure we should be doing this indoors?”

She shrugs, “If you want to go outside, be my guest.”

You take the blunt out of her hands as she passes it back to you, “I value my limbs thank you.”

She chuckles in response and you decide to speak up again, “So why did you skip out on patrol then miss ‘not sick’?”

“Didn't feel like going?” She lies.

You're skeptical. “Right…”

“Look, I'll tell you later.”

“You mean you'll tell me when you're high?”

“Yup.” She nods her head.

You laugh at her honesty, “Fair enough.”

Selfishly, you're a little glad she's in a poor state. It's letting the two of you break the ice that accumulated over the years, and you're definitely enjoying this side of her better. Both of you smoke in silence for a while, but there's undoubtedly less tension now, it's comfortable.

That is until she decides to talk again. “We should watch something.”

“Like, a movie?”

“Yeah. I was thinking something like an action movie…” she trails off.

You squint your eyes at her, “You want to watch Curtis And Viper don't you.”

She frowns, “How did you know?”

“It's like, the one thing I know about you, I literally can't forget.” You chuckle.

“Well maybe if we didn't fight all the time, you would know me better.”

Woah?

“I'm sorry, are you blaming me for this? I never meant for things to be this way.”

She gets up in a huff, “If you didn't then why didn't you try to change?”

It's escalating all too quickly, now you're standing too, blunt put out and long forgotten. “This goes both ways you know!”

“Yeah, we're both to blame for this shit friendship!”

You can see the regret in her face as soon as the words come out of her mouth.

“I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to-”

Your eyes get welled with tears, “You think our friendship is shit? Do you even like me? What am I to you?!”

“You're my best friend I-”

“Don't. Just stop.”, you grab your coat, “This was a mistake.”

And just like that, you're storming out the door, with hot and angry tears streaming down your face as you walk back to your house. As soon as you get in the house, you close it behind you and slump to the floor. It's pathetic, but you can't help it.

You knew the two of you would've had to have a talk sooner or later, you just didn't expect it all to blow up in your face. You've never fought with her this badly, you're devastated. You lay on the floor for a while, knees to your chest and only the sounds of the strong wind in the crack of the door keep you company.

Numb is the only word you can use for yourself as you finally get up and make your way up your stairs. Not even bothering to get undressed, you slump into bed early in the morning. Nothing could help process your emotions better than simply not thinking about them at all.

-

You wake up abruptly to the sound of banging at your door. By the time you were awoken by the knocking, it was dark out. You slept through the whole day.

Great.

Nevertheless, as much as you were - somehow - still exhausted, you ran down the stairs to tend to the sleep-disturbing culprit.

The knocking is still loud and persistent. “I'm coming!” you yelled, a little frustrated at this person's determination. You opened the door wide.

It’s Ellie. Ellie who has red eyes and a tear stained face. She's holding something.

Food?

It looks so fucking good, you dont even know what it is but you’re ready to forgive her just with this. You hadn't eaten all day.

She finally gains the courage to speak after letting you stare at her, “I'm sorry. Let's not fight anymore. I shouldn't have said any of that to you it was…stupid”

You want to kiss her, pull her into a tight embrace, hold her face and tell her everything is going to be ok. But you don't, for now.

Baby steps.

“I'm sorry too. I don't want us to be weird. Can we just be friends again? I just…I just want you to like me.” You answer honestly.

She gives you a soft smile of relief, “I do like you, even if I give you a hard time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You can't help but blush at the mention of her liking you, even if you know it's just as a friend. Still, you can't stop wondering what it would be like for her to confess to you like this.

Ellie speaks up again, before your daydreaming gets out of hand, “So, uh, did you want some or…” she motions to the dinner she had brought you.

“Please! Oh my god, I haven't eaten all day, you are a saint.” You thank her as you snatch the plate out of her hands and drag her inside.

She stumbles a little as you're dragging her by her arm. “Woah, hey, you don't even know if it's good or not!”

You stop and turn to look at her, “I literally could not care less right now.”

“Ok but i'm warning you, you've never had my cooking so-”

“Wait, you made this?” You cut her off.

She scratches her neck as she gets red in the face, “Oh, uh, yeah I did.”

Your heart feels warm and your stomach is full of butterflies. You can't help but smile softly at her as your face gets equally as crimson, “Thank you.”

“Nothing to it.” She answers nonchalantly.

You sit down at your dining table, not even bothering to heat up the food. It's a type of stirfry thing. Ellie sits beside you, looking at you nervously as you take a bite. Oddly enough, it's delicious. You didn't strike her as being much of a cook but you have to admit it's more than edible.

“Is it tolerable?” she asks.

You answer her between mouthfuls, “Are you shitting me? This is the best meal I've had probably ever.”

She laughs at your exaggerations. “Shut up, you're just saying that.”

“It's true, I swear!”

She shakes her head in response instead of saying anything back. You smile happily and keep eating your food. Looking out of your window as you ate, you noticed that the bad weather had finally stopped. You comment on it, trying to make conversation, “It's finally nice out.”

“Aw man,” she chuckles, “I can't believe we're talking about the weather, but you're right.” She pauses before talking again, “We should go do something.”

You answer her as you're shoveling the last of your food in your mouth, “Like what?”

“You'll see.” She answers you ominously.

“Okay, creepy.”

She questions you, “You trust me?”

You soften your expression, trying to be more sincere, “Of course I do.”

“Good, come outside with me.” She orders you, getting up from her seat and grabbing your coat. Taken aback by her sudden change in tone, you do as she says without answering her, or putting your dishes away.

She holds your jacket open for you and you slide your arms in. It's endearing, you get all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You open the door and let her go out before you, and close it.

You both walk out into the street, and she smacks your arm, pointing upwards to the sky. It’s completely clear; you can't help but feel so small looking up at all of the bright lights in the sky. Although, your view is slightly obstructed by the street lights.

“Wait Ellie, I have an idea.” You tell her as you try to grab her attention.

She looks down at you, “What's up?”

“Follow me.” You insist, as you already started making your way to your destination.

You bring her to the back of your house, where a ladder to your roof is propped up against the siding.

“It might be a little more unsafe because of the snow and stuff.” You warn her.

She shrugs, “It’ll probably be fine.”

Next thing you knew she was making her way up, and you soon followed after she made it. You both lay down on the snowy roof and look at the stars quietly, until she started naming and pointing out different stars and constellations.

“That big bright one over there, that's a whole galaxy, Andromeda.” She points to a different spot. “And there beside it, Cassiopea, and Orion's belt over there.”

You listen to her rave about space for a good while, she's cute when she rants like this. “Didn't strike you as that big of a space nerd.”

“Is knowing more about me that terrible?”

“No.” You answer immediately.. “I like being around you, remember?”

She shrugs, “Trying to.”

You sit up and turn to face her, “Ellie, I'm sorry for how things have been between us for however long we've known each other. Let's be friends like normal people are friends, who know each other's favourite colours, who let each other know when something is wrong. I'm sick of this.”

Ellie immediately gets up, “I'm sorry too. And I'd like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles at you.

Having at least the smallest amount of progress puts a smile on your face, but you knew there was a lot more to be done if you wanted to get closer to her. “So, what is your favourite colour?”

She laughs, “Oh man, are we really doing this?”

“Absolutely we are.” You answer, as you lay back down in the snow to look up at the night sky.

This was about to be a long night.

a/n: SOO what r we thinking thoughts.. prayers? n e ways hope u all liked it !

tags: @champagnelovers101 @luvagirl222 @florenceisacoolname @cherriesnwatermelons @sufloerfs

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #tlou x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us

[rubyreduji]

[minors dni]

music major jihoon whose friends forced him to take the class with them but jihoon is absolute shit at art and he knows it

so the first couple weeks go awful. jihoon's hands are made to make music, not draw anatomy. he can tell the teacher hates him too because why is he so fucking awful at this

then once all of the intro stuff is done jihoon walks into class one day and sitting in the middle of the room is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. then the professor starts the class and it slowly dawns on him what is happening and then holy shit you're naked and of course you are because its a figure drawing class so they're going to be drawing figures but still what the fuck

and the professor is going on about how everyone should be appropriate and respectful but jihoon's dick is already half hard and he can't stop staring at your perky nipples that are the prettiest color jihoon has ever seen

jihoon realizes that everyone else is getting their supplies ready and he fumbles around to do the same. in the middle of the room a cloth is laid out on a small platform and you drape yourself over it. your legs hide your core but your breasts are still on full display and jihoon thinks he's not going to have blood circulation in his brain after this

jihoon is already bad at art and now he can't even focus properly because you're all soft curves and smooth skin and holy shit you keep staring at him back and why are you doing that because its making jihoon's dick even harder now. your eyes are sultry yet soft and jihoon has to keep shifting around just so he can hide the tent in his sweats

the whole class jihoon struggles to get his drawing finished. he goes to draw a line and then he gets distracted by the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hip and he can't do it

"fifteen more minutes and then we'll see how every did, okay?" the professor calls out and jihoon panics

quickly he starts to sketch, trying his best to capture all of your beauty. when the fifteen minutes is up he wants to cry. his picture doesn't even look like a human body, let alone the godly figure you have

reluctantly jihoon turns his canvas around and he wants to hide away forever. everyone else's drawings are smooth, accurate lines that capture your nature perfectly while he has scribbles and lumps

you stand up and walk around the class to inspect the pictures yourself. you tie your robe back on but its so loose that everytime your body moves slivers of skin are revealed and your breasts are practically spilling out, your cleavage on full display

when you get to jihoon's you stare at it before cocking your head to hte side a bit. "huh. it's...unique." jihoon wants to die in a hole holy shit. "not awful, just different," you assure him but jihoon is still incredibly embarassed. enough that his dick is starting soften again even though your breasts are practically in his face

the professor tells everyone to finish up their drawings before next class and jihoon is in turmoil as he walks out of class, held hung low

"hey! excuse me!" jihoon stops when he hears a soft voice calling him. he turns to see you and he flushes. "hi! i noticed you sort of struggled in class, which is totally normal, but i was just wondering if you wanted any help? i'm an art major too so."

"i'm actually a music major"

"see even more reason to accept my help! but, only if you want!"

"no you can uh, yeah...i'd like the help"

"great are you free right now?"

and maybe it's a good thing jihoon is bad at art because now he's in your apartment getting his dick sucked by you

in your defense, you guys did start out doing art but the second you stripped of your clothes jihoon's dick decided to make an appearance again. you were trying to convince jihoon his art skills aren't that beyond hope when you noticed it and realized why jihoon was struggling so much. and so you decided to help him out in a different way

so now you're on your knees, sucking at the head of his cock

"h-holy fuck," jihoon mutters. your tongue is digging right into his slit and jihoon is losing his mind over it. his hands grip your hair in his fingers. "oh shit, shit, fuck." jihoon is cumming, painting the inside of your mouth white. you suck him dry until he finishes cumming and when you pull off jihoon slumps back in his seat

you wipe at your mouth before giving him a smile. "how was that?"

"holy shit y/n," jihoon says breathlessly

"mmm," you hum as you reach down and start to finger yourself, your fingers slip in and out of your wet pussy. jihoon stares intently at the way your folds glisten

"fuck," jihoon whispers before he's sliding onto the floor next to you. he moves your hand away from yourself so he can replace it with his own digits. you gasp when he pushes two in

"f-fuck. so thick"

jihoon's dick aches painfully. he just came but his dick is stirring around, his biological need to fuck you overpowering his refactory period

his fingers are drenched from your arousal by the time his dick starts to rise again. he removes his fingers from you and wraps his hand around his dick, using your slick as lube to get him up to full mast

"j-jihoon," you whine. quickly he positioned you two and slides into your needy pussy

"god you're so hot," jihoon mumbles. he slowly starts to move his hips and when he realizes there's not resistance, your pussy willing and ready, he quickly picks up the pace

soon you two are going at it like rabbits. jihoon pistons in and out of you at a rapid pace while you moan like a pornstar under him. he grips your thighs and pushes them up at your chest, fucking into you even harder at the new angle

it takes maybe four more thrusts max for you to cum around jihoon's dick, drenching his thighs as you squirt all over him. jihoon groans at the feeling and quickly pulls out so he can jerk himself to completion all over your stomach

you're both panting heavily as try to recover from what just happened. you're bodies are thrumming with pleasure and adrenaline and when you suggest to jihoon that you guys for round two in the shower he quickly obliges

he never does get his art project finished

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi smut #woozi x reader #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #svt woozi #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

[911-on-abc]

a snippet of my NFL!Buck AU ! please let me know if you liked it and maybe I'll write more!!

Buck was getting a little too familiar with the backseat of this police cruiser. Like, he knows that they aren't supposed to be the most comfortable of environments, but it wouldn't hurt to give him a little bit more leg room, right?

However, when the door opened to his Coach's scowling face, Buck regretted any negative thought he ever had about being stuck in here. Just shut the door and take him straight inside the station, thank you very much.

"You know Coach Nash, we really have to stop meeting like this," the police officer said as she took the cuffs off of Buck's wrist. She wasn't wrong. Buck had hoped the same thing too.

"Hey Bobby," Buck said, drawing out the 'y' in the 'hey,' as he shot a sheepish smile to his Coach, but the expression on Bobby's face didn't change.

All he got in response was a curt "Evan." Getting first named was never a good sign.

"I promise Coach I didn't start the fight," Buck scrambled to explain, "I wasn't even drunk! Officer..." Buck shot a look at the Police Officer's name tag. She's arrested him a couple of times before, and Buck suddenly felt bad that he didn't know her name, even though he expected to never see her again after the first time. and the second time. and... "er- Grant can back me up."

"It's Sergeant Grant," she corrected, "and you better remember that, Buckley, because I may not be as kind the next time I have to put you in the back of my patrol car."

"Uh yeah... Sergeant Grant... look, I swear Bobby. I didn't know she was his girlfriend!! The guy was acting really gross and she was looking uncomfortable, so I told him to knock it off, and then–"

"Buck, that's enough," Bobby cut him off, "Athena, thank you for calling me. I appreciate it. This won't happen again."

"Mmhm," Athena hummed as she opened up the driver's side door. How did Bobby know her name? "Until next time, Coach Nash."

As she drove off, Buck spun back to Bobby, opening his mouth to try again, because he had to explain that he was serious - that this wasn't going to be like last season. He'd changed. Or at least he was trying really, really hard to change ever since Bobby had given him an ultimatum and another chance. He went to every practice. He stopped hooking up with random influencers in dark club booths. He was working hard to not feed into his "Party Boy Buckley" reputation. Bobby had to see that.

"Buck, just get in the car."

Shit.

#911 fox #911 abc #911 fic #911 ficlet #buddie wip #wip #buddie fic #buddie #evan buck buckley #bobby nash #I don't know if I'll ever actually write this fic #but this just came out of me so I had to put it down somewhere #Bobby is Buck's coach #but everyone else has the same job #I'm serious I am looking for feedback #because I'm never actually published anything beyond a drabble #sorry for the ramble #sar writes #nfl!au #NFL!Buck #NFL au #my post

[swords-of-a-soilder]

Remove Problematic CCs

Section 2

"The Qsmp is problematic"

So fun fact twitter hates this fandom and everything it stands for, I'm not kidding when I say the amount of people I saw calling the fandom, toxic, racist, misgontic and ableist is interesting to say the least.

So of course when the SulhasSpace issue happened some people ran with it as proof that the fandom is the problem. Now I've show you guys an racist account before in the last account of interest (burnbook Qsmp) So I'm not here to pretend it's not a problem, it absolutely is.

So yes I get where these are coming from to some degree but Twitter doesn't forgive or forget, and there's of course the fact that not ever "fan" is actually a fan.

That being said they are two sides to Qsmp twitter right now,

1)Chill fun time, drawing your faves.

2)your faves are problematic and if you don't push for them to be kick out your a terrible person.

A common discussion I see on the twitter is often, "oh you're defending your faves, you call out any creator but your faves" completely ingoring the fact that most the stuff their holding said faves accountable for are ages old.

They call us parasocial but then make post after post advocating for members to be removed from the SMP, it's making rounds, so I want to clear any misinformation on Twitter and make it clear when creators apologize.

I bring you back to this tweet (please don't even interact with this person Thank you.)

You might remember them from the bonus section, this was posted jan 5 2024 with 1.3K likes (Jesus) so allow me to clear the air on some accusations.

In the reply of this they link a thread stating all problematic behaviors of creators, however MAJORITY of the this thread is just attacking the fan base I'm not even kidding.

Here's the thing, the bad apples aren't the fandom, it was this same behavior that had people attack dsmp fans.

Say what you want about Dream but you can acknowledge the dsmp fandom got so much hate for simply existing because a few of them were bad.

Because as someone who's been in both, and left both oddly who was previously a full on dream Stan and just sorta grew out of him. People hated us just for liking the dsmp.

They attacked minors in cosplay called us fatherless and cringe (and like yeah but still) overall make fun of Nurodiverst kids for having hyperfixations, and their justification was we're all terrible people.

Here's my thing, you don't actually care, you don't care about the alleged victims or the people who's lives are at risk; You want to make the fandom look bad.

You could have easily said "A person on twitter told another they hope the us gets bomb" and yeah I understand it was in the context of the Qsmp but people are not their interset, don't water people down to the things they like, then you're just making stereotypes.

How is it any different than saying, "a kpop stan did this, a furry did that,"

Also while I'm on this compersion of both I've noticed a constant conflict in regards to the Forever situation vs Dream situation with the parties on either side the other cc is guilty but theirs isn't.

I noticed this as soon as the accusations dropped actually a lot of people even here on Tumblr, where saying "this is what we deserved" and at "least dream didn't actually do it"

Tô be honest I noticed the fandom was at odds before that even, they were sudden talk here on Tumblr which means the topic likely came from Twitter of the dsmp compered to the Qsmp.

And I'll be honest dsmp was getting dragged, I read these thinking, 'why are we comparing them, they're clearly different with their own stories.' I still wonder that.

I don't want to fight with dream SMP fans, I use to be one of you , I had a freaking fan fic plan that was just c:! ranboo getting teleported into the Qsmp.

Why don't have to fight, but I guess with dream being unlikable, that makes things very hard.

Anyways I'm getting of track, when this person does have a important Calm it's often.. wrong

Ok no, to both of these.

1) she was not the only woman on the server, Jaiden joined the server at the very beginning, so unless I miss an noticed that Jaiden actually used macs pronounces that's a fuckin lie.

You can see Jaiden right there behind Foolish, on the very first day. This isn't hard to confirm, it doesn't even take a second.

I read the tweet and immediately went, nah that's not true I remember Jaiden, And what do you know Jaiden was in fact a member at that time.

(looking at this image gives me so much Nostalgia omg..)

2) she was not the only one being harassed, in fact they literally contradict their own statement with proof bad was receiving hate at the same time

Political lore, as in election season? I mean it must be I can't think of another political Qsmp event that bad was involved it huh crazy but If thats the case then Baghera wasn't the only one receiving hate thats... that's crazy, you're crazy.

Non of the tweets that screenshot are misogynistic, it's just people who believe the dream accusations criticing her attendance to his concert.

Also let me be clear real quick, I am AFAB in fact tmi I haven't even gotten on T, it's difficult to here and I'm afraid of getting hate crimed.

So I understand misgony, I live it, this is not what this is; Criticizing a woman isn't inherently misgony.

When you guys said "Qsmp had a misgony problem," is that what you guys meant, a woman gets hate and it's automatically misgony and not a section of the fandom being toxic..? Ok

#qsmp #qsmp investigation #qsmp discourse

[jorisjurgen]

The Crepin-Lore Manifesto.

Part 3: Painful History

[PART 1]

[PART 2]

So, was Kerubim Crepin a good brother?

A bad brother?

For Atcham, it doesn't seem like his vendetta is due to being mistreated by Kerubim. It's not even subtext.

He's perfectly aware he's just using Kerubim to have someone to blame.

But it doesn't necessarily mean that Kerubim wasn't a bad brother.

As we've seen in The Wheel Of Fate... At the time of their childhood, he hated Atcham, viciously.

Or, he was scared of being othered, like him.

My personal pet theory, is that Atcham couldn't take life at the orphan temple anymore, being bullied for his differences.

Kerubim watched, and did nothing about any of this. They were just children, after all.

If Kerubim suffered so much from spending a single day in his brother's shoes, is it really that hard to imagine what Atcham's life was like?

Atcham lost his family too, just like Kerubim.

Nobody ever helped him. And in the end, he was probably treated as if it was his own fault, that he was mistreated.

This sort of thing would fit in, with his characterization.

He's not a bad person, just embittered by his life.

Even as an adult, he's at best treated like an ugly, neurotic freak. Despite his status as a terrifying assassin, he is not respected, just feared.

And being so old, he rightfully has no reason to believe that the world is better than that. Atcham doesn't have anyone in his corner.

And with how Kerubim, and life itself, seem to treat him, I don't blame him.

But what does Kerubim actually think about Atcham?

Because... things aren't so cut-and-dry.

Say - which character related to Kerubim looks unlike most people - enough to, perhaps, be bullied for it - and has lost their parents?

...Yeah. You know what I'm insinuating.

Loving two Black Sheep, and Parallels

...One of the things I never addressed in the last post, is the fact that besides guilt borne of thinking he took Julith's life...

Kerubim carries guilt for Atcham, too. Despite the way he often talks about him, he feels protective of his little brother.

Even the fact that he made sure that Joris wouldn't have issues with his body like how Atcham had, saying that he himself is just some guy, while Joris is special, says a lot.

Seeing an orphan, who was sure to take the brunt of that hatred upon himself if anyone knew his mother was Julith, and who looked so different from others...

How could he not think they were similar? How could he ever not want to protect him?

When Kerubim is being vulnerable, all the insults he has for Atcham dissipate.

I like to think that both Indie and Atcham were brothers that had ruined his life, yet made it worth living.

But in the end, all that's left is, well, the knowledge that he can't fix this, and the desire to, at the very least, have Joris by his side.

...The only reason Atcham ever listened to Joris was their similarity, as well as Joris's age and convictions.

But the only reason he gave family and hope a second chance - is someone finally stepping in to protect him.

And, of all the things Kerubim ever said about Atcham, only this scene really matters.

Aaaand, this draws my insane, three-part compilation of esoterically connected infodumping about the most insane family of Krosmoz to a close. Can you tell I wrote 2 giant character study fics about them yet? Can you feel that I have like 30 wip ideas in my head still?

This is just my thoughts about Atcham and Kerubim, so you know that thoughts about Joris buzz in my brain like bees - especially considering ecaflip demigods keep their memories, and what it means for this trio's relationship. Maybe one day I'll write a post about that too, but that day is NOT today.

These three love each other so much, and I hope I could make you understand what I see in them, just a little bit, after reading this.

#krosmoz #dofus #atcham crepin #kerubim crepin #kerub crespin #joris jurgen #myanalysis #ro.txt #I am insane and diseased. bless. #wakfu

[pocketramblr]

Ask Game : How about an au in where Manual is a Todoroki (Any type of relative)

oh, you mean like when i said Fuyumi should adopt Manual as her brother? Or when we just made Manual the oldest todoroki sibling here, here, (and then...) here? or the separate fic where he's the oldest sibling and also the personification of water and the water cycle itself? Or the series where Tensei and Masaki are Vampire Fuyumi's scions and they're members of the Todoroki clan?

Just kidding, im sure everyone who saw the family tree reblog knows which one i'll talk about here.

1- Masaki, eldest Todoroki Himura child, does not have the quirk his father wanted. He also did not have an ice quirk useful to the Himura family. But he is the eldest, and an eldest son at that, so he's still trained and included by the family. Growing up though, Masaki knows that he's not quite right, not quite what people wanted of him, and tries hard to overcome it. He trains, a lot. He studies the family tree the Himuara clan is so proud of, and then branches out more, as if that'll earn their approval. (he knows most of the whole chart ehehe)He trains to the point that he doesn't just have the ability to manipulate water, but create it too, as his parents create fire and ice. Unfortunately, he can only do this by drawing on his body's stores, so he ends up out of breath and dehydrated too easily when he tries, and wielding large amounts of water is terrible for finesse. Touya, a bright firecracker of a second son, is trained instead. He hurts himself in training too, but can keep going, unlike Masaki. Masaki eases off, still training, still going to be a hero, but giving his little brother more of a spotlight. He's satisfied with what he has. But his brother and father aren't.

2- Masaki stops caring about training with overwhelming power, and focuses on learning how to move small amounts of water with better grace. He dives into the detective part of the job, even as Enji largely neglects passing this on to Touya. He uses his weird knowledge of his family tree for connections- why does he keep getting invited to such high level meetings, missions, and parties?? oh well, you see, Captain Celebrity's sibling married one of Masaki's mom's siblings, so they're in-laws-in-laws, and Ryukyuu's uncle married another one of CC's siblings, so of course Masaki got an invite. He isn't even bragging about his connections, or using them for ill, he just shows up and if people ask why, he says it so matter of fact that they're like 'oh yeah of course, i mean if Manual were my cousin's cousin's aunt's neighbor i'd invite him too, cmon in man." It's amazing how most heroes are more likely to know how they and Masaki are connected than to be aware of the fact that Masaki is straight up Endeavor's son. He doesn't need to be networking this hard. he's doing it anyway. He likes, after all, to be treated normally. He just has a skewed view of normal- but i mean, so does Fuyumi! they're just different skewed views.

3- Sadly this is not a Tensaki au for the simple reason that on one of Endeavor's parent's side, Masaki is distantly related to the Iidas. Now that would not be a problem for literally anyone else, but Masaki took the advice of "if you know how closely you're related, you're too closely related and applied it to his life, not thinking that most people do not in fact have a full knowledge of all of their relatives up to tenth cousins four times removed, and a partial knowledge up to fifteenth six times removed. Tensei is bemused when Masaki asks him how the crawler vigilante is doing, since they never officially partnered, and even more so when Masaki explains "Oh, no, it's just that he's been mentored by my uncle Oguru, has my grandparent's speed quirk and he's like, sixth cousins with your mother, only three or four times removed, so i thought maybe he might have mentioned it to you. But i hope he's doing alright, seems like a good guy and i know that bee bombing thing last month was rough."

4- Masaki dyes his hair brown to look more normal, and because he feels like his natural pink hair clashes with his costume too much. (Hey wonder if all that sexism in the family maybe impacted his view of it too. He very much disapproves of Touya's actions and words but maybe he doesn't want a girly pink hair color either.) Anyway, he also didn't stay at his father's agency for clear reasons. Once his own agency is set up, Fuyumi asks him if he'd consider taking in Natsuo- because he's completely neglected by their father, mom's in the hospital still, touya's dead, and Fuyumi's busy with school, Enji, and Shoto. Masaki agrees, and Natsuo ends up going into school for logistics with a science minor, still considering med school later.

5- "hey uh pocket is dabi not touya here" well that chart was made before the reveal. by not a whole lot of time lol. So, MASAKI doesn't think Dabi is Touya. After all, Touya is Dead. and Dead People do not attack school camps and set trees on fire. Dabi is, therefore, infinitely more likely to actually be Masaki's half uncle- he's pretty sure there are other kids on the fire side of the family, and it gives him a reason for hating Endeavor and his kids so much. Masaki stands by this even as his other siblings start cottoning on to the true identity of the arsonist. He's too normal to believe Dabi could possibly be Touya. After Jakku, he gets a call from Tensei like "hey man, i just heard about the news and i'm so sorry, you know you helped me a lot with my brother and family mess so i'll help you with your brother and-" and Masaki goes "OH THANK YOU i know other things like Eraserhead cutting off his own leg are more important, but i cannot believe my uncle would steal my dead brother's identity like that, with that awful dance-" and Tensei is like 'ah, right.' and just... lets him rant a bit to feel better, before he sniffs and goes 'its actually touya, isn't it.'

#anon #pocket talks to people #ask game #wow. i dont know if this man is very ill or very well. maybe both.

[chinchillamajor]

Reflections From A Barroom Mirror (Star Simon/Bad End AUs - drabble ficlet)

Star Simon finds himself back in a world he's already been to, once.

Oodles of my highest kudos to @mushroomnoodles for creating this little world (and so many others!) for Star Simon to be able to visit. I write a heck of a lot faster than I draw, so please excuse the lack of doodles for this one.

Trigger warnings: referenced mass death/catastrophe (Bad End pregnant Simon AU); implied but not shown Simon mpreg; alcohol use/alcoholism; death from alcohol poisoning mentioned.

Join me on the other side of the readmore, if you want. I can't say it won't hurt, but... I think it's still worth it. :3

"Haven't we been to this world before?" he asked Dandelion, who glowed faintly, saying nothing in reply. "Something about it feels familiar."

---

Star was confused at first, when he hopped through that night's dream portal.

He looked around the bar he'd appeared inside. Then stopped, recognizing the man slumped at the row of seats facing the bartender, along the far wall. Noticing, with a wince, the four-eyed baby wriggling quietly in the stroller parked beside his seat.

Star walked up to this alternate Simon, and took a seat on the stool next to him. "Water. No ice," he told the bartender, who looked back and forth between the two nigh-identical men, then shrugged, and got out a new glass.

This world's Simon didn't seem to have registered anyone was there next to him, until Star spoke.

"Hello, again," Star said. "This is strange... I don’t think I've ever been sent to a world *twice.* Much less where a version of our kiddo's already been born."

Simon raised his head away from his two bent fists he'd been resting it upon, blinking at Star blearily.

"I guess Dandelion figured you might need some extra help," Star added with a shrug. He squinted a little behind his glasses, trying to remember. "You... had a seal put on you, didn’t you? And Princess Bubblegum was building a dome for you, for when you were gonna have your kiddo?"

"Yeah... Sounds like me," Simon began, his words sliding together from too much alcohol. "For everyone's SAFETY."

He gave a dragging, ugly guffaw, but there was no humor in his voice. "Oh, glob, all we were trying to do was keep the Candy Kingdom *safe...*"

Star chose his words carefully. "If it would hurt to bring it up, you don’t have to answer, but... can I ask what happened?"

"Hurt? If it'd-- *HURT?*" Simon blurted at him in disbelief, and gave another cackle. He called out to the bartender. "This guy's new. Asking if what happened might *hurt."*

He grabbed for the shot glass before him, tossing back what little was left in the glass before clinking it back down onto the bar rail, hard. "Why do you think I'm HERE?"

"Something *bad,* then," Star said with a nod. "I won't push."

"No. No, I *wanna* talk about it. Everyone else is sick of me going on about what happened. But *I* have to live with it in my head, all the time," slurred Simon.

He took a deep breath, then tapped the empty shot glass against the table again, twice. The bartender obeyed the unspoken signal, bringing down a cloudy whisky bottle to refill his glass.

"When I woke up... there was my kiddo, there in my arms. Tiny, and wiggly, and *warm*... warmer than I ever figured anyone could be. They gave a little cry, and then..."

Tears began to pinprick behind Simon's glasses, as he began trembling at the memory. "Then, I realized, how QUIET it was. Besides that cry, there wasn’t any sound. Anywhere. In the middle of an entire metropolis. Just the wind.

"I called out for Marcy, and... Marcy was *there,* but..." He shook his head aimlessly, then tossed back the rest of the whiskey. "She gave up *everything,* just to try to help ME. They *all* did. And now... now they're all DEAD, and it's all my fault..."

Star said nothing, as tears began wobbling down his fellow Simon's face.

"There aren't any words for a hurt like that," Star finally said. "And I won't pretend there are."

"Then you're ahead of most of 'em out there," Simon said bitterly, flailing an arm towards the rest of the room. "Don't think I can't hear them talk. There goes Old Man Simon, off to the bar, again. Even takes his kid with him, sometimes. How pathetic can you get."

"Hey." was all Star said, holding out both hands. "You need one of..."

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Simon was already tackling him, hugging Star like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry. Oh my glob, you're being so nice to me, and here I'm just getting my messed-upness all over *you,* too, I'm so sorry..." Simon blubbered through his tears.

"You're hurting," Star replied, patting Simon's back. He could smell the twinge of unknown days with no showers, through a sharp liquor stench. "I can't say I've been where you're at, exactly. But there's a very similar city I can see, on the map *I've* pieced together."

He waited until Simon pulled away before asking, "You mind if I tell you a story?"

Simon snuffled, then said, "Go for it."

"Thank you," said Star, bowing to his doppelganger, and began.

"His name was 'Al,' he told me. It'd been a few days since he’d been kicked out by his parents, for falling in love with a boy instead of a girl."

Star shook his head at the memory. "I would've done *anything* to help him. So I did. I used my magic on him. Scribbled out a sigil, burned it... and gave him a bit of my luck." 

He paused a moment before he continued. "Al was so happy, when he called me, later that night. Said he'd won five hundred dollars, from the lottery ticket he bought."

Simon blinked, not understanding. "So you helped him?"

"I thought I did," Star replied calmly. He glanced away as he added, "The next call I got was from the police. They'd found the business card I gave Al, in his pockets. He drank himself to death, that same night."

"Ah," Simon said, and cleared his throat, sitting suddenly ramrod-upright on his bar stool. "That’s... yeah, that's a lot."

"It was," Star replied, nodding. "It's not the same as what you've been through. But it was enough to stop me from using my magic on anyone but myself, ever again."

He clasped a hand over Simon's. "That’s the thing, though. You can be doing everything right, have the absolute best of intentions in mind... and still get the worst possible result."

Simon's lip wibbled, as he looked Star in the eyes. It was like seeing into the other man's unprotected soul.

"That doesn't mean you're a bad person," he could hear Star saying. "Sometimes, that's just how life *happens.* And you keep going, anyhow."

Simon's gaze flicked away, not sure why he felt so intimidated by this man who looked so much like him.

"You're ME. Aren't you," he stated.

"I'm a *version* of you. One who considers himself to be very, very lucky." Star sipped at his water thoughtfully, continuing, "I've had an awful lot of awful things happen in my life, but... there's always something amazing that happens, too. People I meet. Things I learn…" 

He set the water glass down, now that it was empty. "It's worth it, I can say. Eventually. Even if it always seems to take longer than it should."

Simon's mouth pursed to a thin line, as he stared into his whiskey glass.

"I won't say it all balances out, but... life sure never gets *boring,* either," Star added. "I have my stories I can tell. Sometimes they help other people know they're not alone. And I'm happy with that." 

Star reached for Simon's hand again. "In the grand scheme of things, I may not be able to do much to help anyone out. But. That’s what I can do, so... I try doing it, when I can."

Simon's hands met Star's– both of them, this time, though Simon's were still shaking. 

"I offer my little spark to folks's candles. And hope they see the sparkle inside themselves. Enough to keep going."

Simon let Star's words land. 

He stared off into space for a few moments, then mumbled, his voice low and wavering, "What am I supposed to do?"

"I don’t have the answer to that. Only *you* do," Star said, looking down at both their empty glasses. "But it looks like you've been hiding from yourself. Maybe for a while now. And you're not going to find any answers at the bottom of that glass, no matter how many times you look." 

Star raised an eyebrow, leaning in to add quietly, "I'd know. I had to quit drinking, myself, after my grandmother died, and I got lost for a while. Was way too good at it."

"You got *lost,*" said Simon with a weak chuckle.

"Sure. Everyone does, sometimes. I took the scenic route, for a few years." Star gave Simon's hands a squeeze. "It's never too late to get yourself back on your own path, again."

Simon covered his face with his hands, drawing in a deep, shaky breath.

"Not saying it won't be *hard,*" Star pointed out. "Sometimes, getting back from being lost is the hardest thing you'll ever do. But I *do* think it's worth it. From where I'm sitting now, anyhow."

He leaned back upon his seat. "But, I think I've talked long enough."

As Star hopped down from the bar stool, he pointed right at Simon's heart, tapping his stretched-out black sweatervest. "If you don't remember anything else, just know this much… Someone else out there loves you, a whole awful lot. And he hopes you'll get home safe. Whenever that ends up being. I'm not ever gonna grade you. Okay?"

"Okay," Simon repeated, new tears starting down his reddened cheeks. He rubbed his arm over his face, smearing snot all along his shirt sleeve. "Th..thank you."

"Thank you, for listening," Star replied, giving his shoulder one last pat. "I should let you get back to what you were doing. Take care of yourself, and the little one when you can, okay?"

Simon watched Star walk out from the bar. There was a flash from down the hallway, and then… the sounds around him came back to his attention.

The bartender, choosing not to comment on whatever had just happened, only pointed to Simon's shot glass, and offered, "Another one?"

"Uh," Simon replied. "You know, I… I think I'm good for the day. I'll have some water, please.

"Er. No ice," he added quickly.

The bartender obeyed with a nod.

#star simon au #simon petrikov mpreg #cw implied mpreg #cw death #cw alcohol #cw bad end #cuz that's how things go sometimes

[oneinonemillion]

~~I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me~~~ (🫥🐟)

(Heavily based on this drawing by @theboyskisser. ❤️❤️)

Cw: Bullying (It's silly) lot's of degradation and name calling, kind of creepy behavior coming from Translucent, a strange abundance of teenage yearning, horrible love confession, some foul language (These are two teenage boys in the 2000s, don't expect common decency), some awkward kissing, guilty dry humping .

For Translucent's name, I'm just gonna be calling him nerd or something.

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Walking through the hallways of this shitty school was always a death sentence for just about anyone. Girls with a-cups, guys who didn't lose their virginity in the 9th grade, kids who don't speak a lick of English. It doesn't matter who you are, if you aren't a superpowered freak of nature or rich, attractive, or had a very friendly personality that made people swoon over your sheer presence.

I didn't have any of that. Well, I have superpowers, and I'm pretty well off, but I'm not popular. I was, but a lot of shit happened. Y'know, the usual highschool stuff. A lot of teenage boys get exposed as perverts that use their ghastly powers to creep on chicks, right?

Christ, it's a miracle I wasn't thrown in jail or something. That would be lame. Probably a bit better than school, though.

Anyways, yeah, school fucking sucked for me. People were repulsed by the sight of me, always looking at me sideways when I just walked through the halls, trying to keep my head high before another dick minded asshole humiliated me and pushed my head back down.

It was sometime different people. A cheerleader, a dork with friends, a teacher unintentionally ruining my school year even further. It sucked dick. I made a promise to myself I just wouldn't go to college or anything like that, why would I want to suffer more of the same shitty fate? Loser in middle school, loser in highschool, future loser in college. I was receiving a lot of invitations from some fancy school called "God-U". I thought it sounded gay, but a school full of freaks like me? It made me curious.

My inner monologue about colleges was interrupted by a hand smacking my dried fruit from my hands, sending the dehydrated apples and raspberries cascading in the middle of the hallway. A burning ball of lead built in my throat. Of course. Of fucking course I couldn't get through the day without being the butt of the joke. It's only 8:10, what the fuck?!

I look up into the pretty blue eyes of my assailant, immediately snarling in disgust. I didn't think of turning invisible. People got the wrong idea when I did that. So I'm just standing there, so utterly exposed and watched by everyone.

Kevin Moskowitz. The biggest douchebag you'll ever see, obnoxious and horrible about his status as the top alpha, sneering down at the lowly peasants known as teenagers who actually had a loving relationship with their family instead of overcompensating for a lack of love and attention.

I wanted to yell at him. It was hot and heavy on my tongue, all the insults building in my throat. That was quickly sprayed away by Kevin speaking to me.

"woops. Sorry about the fruits, man. I'm pretty sure that wasn't a kosher brand anyways. You gotta watch yourself, bro, I can't keep doing it for you."

I fume. He smirks at me, and I'm stomping away, stepping on dried fruit and a stupid crumbled bag. I was so tired of cleaning up shit that he destroyed. Moskowitz was a fucking dick.

He doesn't even allow me to have a clean escape, a hand tangling in my greasy hair and making me curse, my hands trying to pull his grubby paws out of my fucking hair.

"Whoa there, slow down. I'm just here to ask you something. Just a little *consent*, if you catch my drift."

Kevin Moskowitz winks at me. And he pulls, hard and twists my hair. There's tears of pain in my eyes. Probably not just pain, probably some humiliation and embarrassment that he keeps doing to me.

It's like he targets me. Me only treating me worse than any of the other dicks in our grade. He's just... Cruel. He's horrible and I despised him.

Sure, maybe I used to want to be his friend cause I looked up to him and thought he kicked ass for being a super that people liked.

Yeah, maybe that dream was dashed when he pinned me to a bathroom stall door, staring me deep in my eyes and snarling about how disgusting I am.

Maybe I did cry. Sue me.

"Got a party going on at my place later, thought I should even it out with adding some dorks. And look at you! You're the lucky fuck I chose!"

He tossed me against the locker, my body rattled the doors as I fought tears.

"I don't want to go." I rasped, hiccuping and miserable as I fought back crying. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Not here. Not right now when I'm so *visible*.

His eyes widen, a stupid grin growing on his face.

"Of course you do! Because if you don't, you're going to get your rapist ass kicked right in front of the whole school!" Ohhh a threat. Oh, I'm shaking in my fucking boots.

"No I'm not," I weakly fire back,

"Oh yes you fucking will. Who's gonna stop me? The students? The teachers? No one is coming to help your ass, cause you wanna know why? They know what you are. You're a fucking loser, Schecht."

I bite my lip. Hard enough to make it sting and throb.

"Anyways, see you at the party. We've got rape kits just in case."

His stupid friends giggle along with him. They walked away, triumph with their brutal mental beat down of me. How lovely.

I don't bother to go to class. I sat in the hallway, and I fought back tears until a fat black security lady told me to move my ass and go to the first period. I did it, dragging my feet as the humiliation hung heavy on my shoulders.

The dick head didn't even tell me his address.

I already knew it cause I was a weird fucking kid.

I left before the last bell rang, carefully slipping out of my chair before the teacher could rip me a new one for interrupting the lesson 30 minutes before it was even time to go. Whatever, I'm doing good in that class anyway, skipping one class wouldn't kill me.

I rush out of the front door, the warm air of summer immediately scolding me for wearing baggy shit. Not my fault. I just look weird, man.

I wasn't even down the street before I'm stopped by-

"Hey ghosty I think you're going the wrong way."

Of fucking course Deep would be skipping class. I don't even know why I thought any different of the faggot with blond highlights, thinking he looks cool and not like a total manwhore.

I stopped, closing my eyes as he took my shoulder, guiding me back towards his car he got for his stupid 17th birthday. I hate him.

He basically forced me into the passenger seat. I sit there, staring out the window. He doesn't want to be seen with me. I know he doesn't, that's why he forced me into this stupid fucking car that stinks of the sea and perfume that I couldn't pin point. It makes me upset.

He apparently doesn't buckle his seatbelt. How cool. I didn't either, subconsciously hoping I can appeal to his coolness. I wanted to be cool too. I can be cool. I am cool.

I don't speak the entire car ride, ignoring him as I look at the suburban houses. They all look the same, so perfectly put together and built, not one of them looking disheveled or like you can successfully sell meth in one. It's lame. But I'm not really allowed to complain, cause my bro Reggie came up from nothing. I applaud him, love that guy.

We don't talk much. He doesn't... Associate with me. Not after everything.

It hurts my chest a bit. I loved that dude. He was my brother.

God, why'd I have to be a fucking pervert?

"So, uh... Can I tell you something?"

Kevin questions me. I want to tell him fuck no and tell him to kill himself, but I don't.

"What?" I snap. He giggles at that. It's an awkward sound.

"You know that party, right?"

"Yeah?"

"There... There isn't a party."

Oh. Ok. The rape bells are ringing in my head, telling me to immediately get the fuck out.

"What." It's blunt and directly to the point. What?

"There isn't a party. My friends think that this is gonna be a fucking prank and You're gonna be humiliated or beat up or some shit."

"Why the fuck are you telling me this shit?"

"Because-? Because I don't want to do it. Not today, at least. I just..."

He pauses, pulling over into the park. I didn't realize we were so far past his house.

He pulls into the trees, driving in further and further until I couldn't see the playground or the main walkway. It makes me gag. He seems worried.

When he parks, I stare at him. Wide eyed, indignant, disgusted.

He looks over at me. His eyes look strangely watery, almost pleading for something that isn't there.

"You're freaking me the fuck out." My voice wavers. He blinks.

"DUDE. Why the fuck did you drag me out here?!"

Kevin flinches.

"I... Uhm, you want a cigarette?"

"What?"

He pats his pocket, digging through them and pulling out a crumpled pack. He offered me one. I hesitantly take it.

Kevin's fingers shook as he lit his cigarette, trying and failing miserably to light it the first few times before he sparked a flame. He lights the cigarette. I just hold mine. I hate cigarettes.

He releases a stream of smoke past his lips, one of his hands grasping at the steering wheel.

"Dude."

"Yeah?"

"Why."

I'm asking for the cigarette, the weird ass car ride, the warning. What the fuck was happening?

He hesitates, taking two more drags of his cancer stick. A blush paints his face.

"We... We've known each other for a while, right?"

"I wouldn't say know, because you've only been a dick to me these few years I've seen you." I was displeased, obviously, and he was cringing at that. My scathing rudeness.

"Yeah, I just... I have a crush on you."

Huh.

Whuh.

Uhm?????

"I'm sorry?" I sort of wish I lit my cigarette too because this is smoke worthy.

"I have a crush on you. A- and I know you hate it, and you hate *me* cause I'm a dick, but please. I... I like you, and I think you're the most wonderful-" He gasps,

"The most wonderful dude I could ever ask for. I like you, Schecht."

I wanna gag, but I can't help but... Think about it.

It's wonderful. To be adored by the guy I used to worship and idolize in my creep head. I look like a deer in headlights, shy and horrified. Horrified and flushed. Deers aren't horny when they're about to get rammed by a thousand pound mechanical abomination, so that was a stupid comparison on my part. Sorry, I guess.

"Ok."

"Can we kiss?" He asks, pouting as he looks at me with those stupid baby blues. It makes me frown.

"F-Fine, God you're so fucking annoying."

He laughs, shaking as he snuffs out his cigarette and crawls onto my lap, taking me completely off guard as he slots his lips onto my. His palms on the side of my face are sticky with sweat.

And I lean into it. I lean into the kiss, and I hold him, my hands traveling up his back as we suck each other's faces off. He's making weird noises, garbled and strangled. It's strange, but I can't help but moan back. Kevin's loud. He's whiny, loud like a virgin.

I melt underneath his eager, swiping tongue and uncoordinated lips. I'm suffocating, tasting his spit, the taste of nicotine and Doritos making an honestly disgusting taste on his tongue, but I can't bring myself to care. I just...

I just wanted to keep kissing him. Until I died.

He bucks his hips against mine, and I pull away from the breath taking gross kiss. I stare, wide eyed at my semi stiff cock being stimulated by his boner. God, it was so fucking faggy that he can't even pretend it wasn't. This was a gay moment, he's getting off to another dude.

"I've been- I've been wanting this. For so long." He's whimpering. I can't speak, my eyes wide as I nod along, frantic and dazed. I want him to move. Get me off. I can't answer anything.

"'M so sorry, I'm so sorry for being so mean I love you so much-" He grinds down onto my lap, leaving stars in my vision as I whine and squirm, pulling at his clothes and trying my best to not rip the fucking clothes off his back.

It's like a dance, trying to see who would cum first from the uncoordinated and weird dry humping. We were both so flustered, whining messes as we embraced, touched, and pulled.

"I love you, I love you, you're my everything, I'm so sorry for being mean I wanted you youyouonlyyoufuck-"

"Yeah-" I moan, the only word coming from my pathetic noises.

"You're my- You're my boyfriend-" He whines the word boyfriend like he's dying, whimpering so high pitched and pleasured.

"Yeah- Yeah I'm your boyfriend, we're boyfriends-" Oh look at me. I'm becoming whiny now. I'm getting his fag disease.

Maybe I sorta loved him.

That sends us over the edge. One last sloppy kiss and I'm cumming in my pants, a high pitched keen mingling with Kevin's noises. It's sticky. It's gross, and I need a shower, but I love it so much.

We don't stop kissing for awhile, our tongues are too busy trying to suck the others soul. I wanted him. That's it. Him. That's all I needed, fuck.

Fine. I forgave him. And his stupid pretty ocean eyes.

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A/N: Wrote this shit in two hours. I never really thought of this ship, but it's neat to me. I just like men who hate each other.

Was blasting Dance, Dance by Fall out boy over and over again lmao.

#the boys #the boys fandom #fanfic #rarepair #shipping #fanfic based on drawing #highschool au #i hate it here #the deep #translucent the boys #cw slurs #i hate teenage boys