luckiestduck

[luckiestduck]

Honestly being a secret SchlattBur shipper feels like being in the closet, if I were to out myself i'd experience as much oppression and hatred as the LGBTQIA+ Community (Or even more).

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Sugar Spice and everything nice🍬

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shlap shlap shlap shlap (sound of my titties hitting the bars in my minecraft jail )  let me out! let me outtttt!

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all boys do is listen to acid rock and stare directly into a flashlight 

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don't care didn't ask plus this hole you put me in wasn't deep enough and i'm climbing out right now

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sketch of a hardworking mother and his child

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cocktail night contemplation.

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my quackity design for qsmp . guys i love qsmp

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this one is still killing me

[luckiestduck]

Quackity is genuinely so distracted by the feeling of warm skin and thick muscle under his hands that, for a moment, he thinks what fucking allergy? Only a moment, though. It’d suck to get found out so soon. “Yeah, man,” Quackity says as he moves over to his chest, standing in front of him, dabbing a little more oil on his fingers. It was a struggle to manage anything like genuine conversation while massaging oil into Sapnap’s chest, lingering much longer than he has any right to, but he managed. “I know Niki wouldn’t mind the company, and we’ve got plenty of room.”

Can’t stay on his chest too long, unfortunately. At least Sapnap’s abs are just as nice to rub his hands over, massaging oil down towards the hem of his shorts, following the path his happy trail so kindly provides. And then he’s pulling his hands away before he makes the mistake of slipping them under the hem of his shorts, standing up and grabbing a paper towel from the roll to wipe the worst of it off. His pants are loose today, thank fucking god. He’ll definitely be remembering the way Sapnap felt under his touch tonight, though. “Alright, I think you’re all good. Anywhere I miss?”

Sapnap’s skin is warm, soft, dipping under his fingers slightly as he rubs the oil into his back. He tries not to let himself linger too long, doesn’t want to rouse suspicion, but he thinks he gets caught a little anyways when Sapnap flexes, showing just what kind of muscle he boasts on his biceps. Quackity swallows, throat clicking, lingers a little longer than he needs to before he grabs some more oil, massaging it into Sapnap’s other arm. This is probably the best day of his fucking life.

“You know, you ever need help with that—“ holy shit, what was he saying, there’s only so far he can push the ‘friendly neighbor’ bit before Sapnap calls him out on it— Though he thinks, maybe, Sapnap wouldn’t mind a different kind of friendly if the grin he gives him is any indication. “I mean, it can’t be easy to massage yourself. I’m not exactly a masseuse, but I can at least help get the places you can’t reach.”

[luckiestduck]

“Hats are in style this spring,” Quackity lies. More like everyone in this apartment building has something wrong with them, but Tommy’s clearly going through enough without Quackity wringing him out to dry. Even buzzing down the worst of it won’t get rid of the red marks where— honest to fucking god, it looks like he took an actual razor blade to his scalp. Quackity was going to have to congratulate Purpled on managing to pull one over so hard on Tommy (not that it was particularly hard, mind.)

The first drag of the razor, he took through the largest tuff of remaining hair, right on the side of his head, slowly working in. Quackity could only be grateful that the toilet was nowhere near the mirror; he was fighting back laughter, and he might actually feel a little bad if Tommy saw the look on his face right now. “You should have Tubbo come on over too, while I’ve got the razor warmed up. Better yet, just shave him in his sleep. He’ll be thanking you in the morning, probably.”

Alright. Maybe fix was a bit of a stretch. But Tommy lights up, stands to his full height from that uncomfortable crouch he was in, and Quackity figures, what the hell, right? He can do his damndest. Might just end up shaving the motherfucker bald, but from what he can see Tommy's head isn't that weirdly shaped, and if he's worried about 'getting bitches'- well. A little lie here or there about shaving it for solidarity with a friend who has cancer or some shit will at least make him seem less insane.

Quackity doubts Tommy will be getting any real bitches, anyways. "Could stick some glue on the bald patches, let you crawl around under the bed. I haven't vacuumed in a while so the dust bunnies might help cover it up." Quackity grins, reaching into the cabinet, pulling out an electric razor. "Fix is a pretty strong fucking word, but I can make it look like less of a hack job, if you want. I'll let you borrow a hat either way: up to you."

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“Susan, that fucking bitch,” Quackity says, dutifully pulling open the cooler, squinting at the bottles they have available. As much effort as he’s giving it, it’s still just buttered popcorn. Quackity considers the pairings for something both buttery and salty and grabs a chardonnay, turning it over in his hands before knocking the drawer closed with his hip. As he hears the first kernel or two start popping, he nabs the corkscrew from the cabinet drawer, setting it down before moving back to the pan, shaking it over the burner.

“You wouldn’t believe the shit she’s put me through, Niki,” he continues, the pop, pop, pop growing louder, less spaced apart. “That woman has me tearing my feathers out by the fucking handful. Do you want extra butter on your bowl?”

Niki scrambles up his shoulder as Quackity pushes himself up, proudly sitting down as she uses him as over-glorified transport. There’s a tug at a strand of his hair, wrapped around her hand for balance, but he’s used to it enough that he doesn’t even flinch, heading into the kitchen. They’ve got a few bags in the cabinet, easy to pop. Quackity decides to be fucking fancy with it though, grabs a pot from the cabinet and the bag kernels they keep for special occasions, a small enough kind that Niki can comfortably hold and eat it as a pixie.

“Romcom and popcorn,” Quackity says, turning on the heat, pouring some oil in the pot. “Next thing you know you’ll be making me pour us both some wine.”

[luckiestduck]

His slutty looks and abandonment issues have captivated me