#SHIT SHIT STAR I MEANT STAR WRONG SHAPE

[st4rguy]

heheh cucumber flowers are kinda star shaped and cucos main motif (other than cucumbers obviously) is stars i just think that's cute

[a1ecmcdowell]

all the times mechanic!dean was humbled by bimbo!reader - 18+

★ ˚⋆

dean was convinced, a lot of the time, that not a single coherent thought existed in the white noise of your brain, just accepting that you were one of those girls with a pretty face to her legacy. it wasn't a bad thing. he'd never admit it, but seeing your face light up when he explained something to you was one of his favorite looks on you - the glimmering wide eyes, the o-shaped part of your glossy lips as the pieces clicked into place.

other times, he was floored by the capacity of that pretty little head and the information it held. completely floored. you never said anything with malice either, or chastised him for not thinking in the same way that you did. just stated the things like fact, typing away on your pretty pink iphone with your pretty pink manicured nails, not even looking up to see that you'd taken his breath away.

there were a lot more of these instances than he cared to admit. he was a proud, prideful kind of guy, often convinced that it was his way or the highway.

until you came around.

he'd started a list on his phone, of some of those times, cementing them into a vault of your history. maybe he'd show it to you on your wedding or something cheesy like that, that he knew you would love. or maybe he'd keep it to himself, as to not humble himself further.

when you'd called a car's failing engine a "tummy ache", and that was how he figured out that the cause was the owner putting in the wrong gas.

the first time you talked him into trying on your panties, and he'd tried to deny it heavily, and you'd said, "it's just clothes." and it was so simple but he'd never thought of it like that. like holy shit, yeah, it's just clothes.

when you'd tried to hook up with him at his work, in the backseat of his car no less, and dean desperately tried to keep some semblance of professionalism at his job, and you were like "who's gonna see? no one comes here." and he proceeded to fuck you into the leather with, you guessed it; not a single customer to see the fogged windows and the rattling frame.

you got him to start saying things are cunty and that's not even the humbling part. the fact that he could not fucking stop himself from calling everything cunty when you were around was.

when you'd called the stars "little suns" and now every time he looks at the night sky, he can't help but think if you're looking at the little suns too.

he'd been staying late trying to finish a car and you'd gotten upset and told him "who's gonna need their car this late?" and yeah. who the hell was? he made it home in five minutes and made up for his time away.

he told you that one day he'd take you to meet his family and you called them the witch burners with the straightest face he'd ever seen. yeah. they did do that sometimes. but don't say that to their face.

sometimes his old habits would kick in and he'd start doing everything for you, like he did growing up with sammy, and you remind him every time that you were his baby but not his baby.

he joked that you were baby vers. 2, and you'd said, "you can't call everything you park yourself in baby." he started calling you princess immediately after.

he'd grabbed your hair once when you were bent over during sex and you whirled around so fast he honestly thought you were going to kill him. like there was more fear in his eyes then than there was in some of the hunts he did before he retired.

when you insisted in front of his coworkers that, no, you did not want to drive your car if he was there to tote you around already. like, fuck him, honestly, for not assuming you would want to be chauffeured. he was still living that shit down.

"no, dean, i'm not blowing you right now, this is a chanel lip gloss." right. because he was supposed to know what that meant. "i am not wiping chanel off with a paper towel, dean." tell chanel to get off her fucking high horse, thanks!

he tried to be romantic once and put his hand on your thigh while driving and you glanced down with a pout and said, "your filthy oil hands :(" with that exact sad face. he didn't know how else to convey the utter devastation in his typed list without the fucking emoticon. you'd have thought he ran over your baby or something.

notes, guys ... i fear they are rent free rn. something ab grumpy/sunshine in any form is going to do it for me every time.

tags ( if some of these dont work im gonna run up and down the street butt naked on god ) @titsout4nicholas @deans-yn @dipperscavern @devoursweetly @jasvtsc @panickedbitch @t3l3vangelism @jensenacklesfan69 @manicjk @mkendlic @hischrrypie @deanswidow @figthoughts

[ma1dita]

hiii can i have 1 ticket to the give em' a pumpkin to talk about starring luke castellan with popcorn and candy??

welcome to my nightmare

[STARRING: LUKE CASTELLAN x reader “Just forget you saw this happen.” “I’ve just never seen you this mad before.”] wc: 700+ a/n: no warnings this one's just dumb and goofy and inspired by sylus x mc's aether tie from LNDS if yall have ever played haha; title from the alice cooper song

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

For the past week, you and Luke Castellan have been stuck at the hip. Well, kinda…and definitely not by choice.

“I swear to the gods, when I get my hands on you Castellan…” 

“Sure, go ahead. Call on Nemesis again and maybe this time if I stay quiet, the goddess of retribution will keep me out of whatever stupid punishment you get next!” he spits, yanking at the invisible force that has your wrists linked together. You chew a guy out in the presence of a sacred temple once and now you’re stuck to him indefinitely. Perfect.

“We can’t go out like this,” you groan exasperatedly, “you’re messing with my game.” Luke’s eyes might roll to the back of his head if he tries any harder. Everything is always a game with you—and he’s about to lose it.

“You’re the only person I know that would pull the shit you do, y’know? He was being annoying,” Luke scoffs, remembering the barista who was trying to chat you up an hour earlier. He never thought he’d say this, but he absolutely cannot wait to get back to Camp Half-Blood. You stop in your tracks to protest, “He was being nice! And I was trying to score us a free lunch, but you had to be all macho, ‘Can’t you see she’s cuffed?’ CLEARLY NOT!” The invisible link between your wrists strengthens as you try to tug your arm away from him—the pull almost tightening around your skin as his arm follows the shape of yours with no dispute. 

“He was too nice. There was something wrong with his face.”

Your eye twitches as you snort, “I’ve just never seen you this mad before, is all.” Luke stops short in front of you, turning suddenly and it makes your arm jerk towards him. Standing toe to toe, he looks down at you with an unreadable expression, grumbling, “I’m not mad.”

“Jealous, then.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I think it would be less painful to hack my arm off with a sword than be stuck to you,” he starts walking again, hoping that if you stop trying to start a fight you can make it back to camp by nightfall. It’s never that easy though— you start walking back towards the cafe, making his knees buckle at the force of the redirection, “Are you serious?”

“You won’t mind if I walk in there and get his number then?”

Luke’s bound hand catches yours so that the unfamiliar feeling in his stomach will settle. Actually, he does mind—and he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to be stuck to you for the rest of eternity if it meant you don’t go back in there to get that guy’s number. 

There’s an unspoken tension that reverberates through the both of you as you stand there in the parking lot and neither of you can find the words.

“Don’t.”

Luke’s voice is soft under the flickering streetlights, “Not without me,” and you could’ve sworn he was going to say something else, but he doesn’t. 

“Not like I have a choice…” you start, and he bites his lip reluctantly—”Not like I would want to. Brighten up, Castellan. We still have to get home.” Your tone is less serious now, nudging your shoulder against his, and you’ve barely noticed he’s still holding your hand, or the fact that the pull between you two is less of a punishment and more of a surprising reward for this situation.

The gods do love a good joke.

Walking back into the cafe, you follow Luke towards the direction of the bathroom and he’s back in a goofy mood now that there’s an irrevocable understanding between you two. He pushes the door open slightly, smirking at you as you scan the area to see if anyone’s watching you follow him into the men’s bathroom. After a week of having no privacy due to your predicament, nothing is that awkward anymore.

“So…” he smirks, “You wanna hold it?”

You whack him across the chest. A glass clatters to the floor behind you and it’s the cute barista from earlier. Your face pales, “Just… forget you saw this happen.” 

With Luke’s eyes meeting his, he tugs you in by the hand anyway.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[darin-nidk]

Prettier when quiet. | Male!Reader x Vox.

Content: R18. Implied vouyerism, blowjobs, male genitalia, dom/sub undertones, service bottom M.Reader, submissive top Vox.

"— currently Vox is busy, if it's an emergency then tell me your name and contact information so I write it down". (Y/N) was Vox's righthand, cold and heartless secretary that gave away their soul in order to secure protection, a roof over their head and a job in exchange for their skills (or newfound demonic powers). Not to mention, working for Vox meant working for the rest of the Vee's to some extent — mostly calming down Valentino's tantrums and nonsensical unfiltered wrath when one little thing went wrong; since Velvette was a sweetheart in comparisson to those other manchild two overlords.

However, as of now, (Y/N) was sitting on the big boss' business chair and taking phonecalls while having said boss underneath the office desk and in between their legs, gripping their thighs and forcefully keeping them appart. The secretary in question was using one hand to write down the information from the caller while the other was gripping tightly the edges of Vox's screen, fingers curling as they found their way into some sensitive ports causing the overloard to twitch and moan around their cock, (Y/N) is sure they heard Vox's knee hitting a side of the desk.

To think (Y/N) was initially unwilling to start this extremely unprofessional office romance fuckbuddy situation... Whether Vox had used hypnosis, or spiked their drink (or whether (Y/N) had purposedly wore tight clothing without underwear to leave no place for imagination, among other less than noble tactics), it didn't matter when his generous sized cock was buried ballsdeep inside their needy hole, arching their back when his cock was slightly curved an angled at the right sweet spot making (Y/N) see stars, cumming shamefully quicky upon feeling pleasant vibrations hitting their prostate — fucking Hell, how did (Y/N) reach their high without Vox's dreamy cock that rearranged their insides, stretching their hole, shaping their gummy walls entirely to Vox's demanding cock. Toys weren't the same, and their fingers were no longer satisfying.

(Y/N) needed to get dicked down by their narcissistic egocentric boss.

"Thank you for trusting our services, sir, we'd love to keep our business on float. Have a lovely day", hanging up by practically slamming the phone down, (Y/N) moaned loudly as they felt Vox's long tongue wrapping itself around their sensitive member. The secretary was delirious with pleasure, Vox had initiated a vibrating mode of sorts, such pleasant vibrations sending waves of pleasure through their feverish body. "Ah, fuck! You mn, you are so good for me sir, haah".

Thrusting their hips upwards, (Y/N) was fucking their boss' throat, feeling the ocasional zap and electric shocks that made their balls feel close to release though all of that wasn't enough, tears were present in the corner of their eyes as they tried to pull away their boss from their weeping cock. "Shit, ah, Vox please, sir, I need, mngh..! Nno, I don't wanna cum like this, sir I need you ah, inside—".

Nonsensical blabbering left their lips, drool rolling down their chin as they felt oh so close — yet it abruptly stopped. Vox had pulled away and wipped his screen with a handkerchief that (Y/N) had prepared with anticipation. Standing up, the overlord had an evident bulge in his pants. The sight alone making his secretary swallow saliva, (Y/N) never pegged themselves as someone to like to suck cock, but Vox's? Neatly trimmed pubic hair, the way the tip had a bright cyan color. Truly a mystery as to why they liked to wrap their lips around his cock, taking it down their throat as much as they could yet enjoying inmensely when Vox would push their head down to take more, regardless of gagging and feeling tears in their eyes—

"As much as I'd love to have you on your knees worshipping my cock", that seductive voice of his, his claws gripping their face and forcing them to look directly onto his eyes, the sharp edges of his claws pressing painfully against the skin of their cheeks yet not quite tearing it. "I need you to bend over my desk, I've got a meeting in an hour and oh, believe me... I have to ruin that pretty face of yours or I won't be able to focus".

If you like my stories, consider donating to my Ko-Fi! Even cents are plenty of help!

Y si hablas español, 'tonces no seas garca y dame $2 para honrar el billete que no esta en circulación y que ni siquiera es de colección a mi MP .

[luvhiromi]

i love you, i'm sorry | satosugu

content: inspired by gracie abram's song "i love you, I'm sorry". so basically this is about gojo's pov about geto and i thought the bridge from that song was perfect for it. the lyrics in this fic are in italic but not bold just an fyi for you guys. happy reading!

c/w: satosugu itself is a warning, angst.

w/c: 664, so short ik

He was… everything. In the quiet of the night, his words linger like a beloved whisper, soothing my soul and filling my heart with comfort. He says my name in such soft loving whispers that send shivers down my spine. In his arms, I find my sanctuary, a warm embrace that shields me from the world. With him, we were the strongest. 

Unfortunately, he is just a wistful memory. I always find myself drifting back to the times we've shared. Those memories both warms me and leaves me yearning for him. I’ve always thought of the laughter we shared under the summer sky, the quiet whispers in the night, and the way his eyes would be shaped like a crescent moon when he smile.

I’ve always thought how I didn’t realize. How sudden everything about him seems so gray. He was so devoid of color, lost all of his brightness. When I finally saw, It was all too late wasn’t it? You’ve made up your mind. I couldn’t bring myself to hate you for it. 

Suguru. Do you know what a wistful memory is?

Here’s a brief definiton:

Wistful Memory, moments have become—bittersweet, tender, and ever so precious. They are the echoes of our love, lingering in my soul, reminding me of what we had, what we have, and what we will always carry with us.

When I saw your mind and body conquered by another when you have no control of it… Your soul still recognize me didn’t you? You were standing right before me, my brain and my eyes knew it was you. But my soul said otherwise. 

You were the best as much as you were the worst. You were the sweetest of dreams, wrapping me in bliss, and the most haunting of nightmares, killing my peace. You were my greatest joy and my deepest sorrow, the one who lifted me high above the clouds, only to let me fall into the abyss. You were everything good that ever happened to me, and everything that broke me, all at once.

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first. In the quiet corners of my soul, where no one dared to pursue, I loved you—long before the world made it seem wrong. It started long before the higher-ups told I had to execute you. And though it may never be understood, it was the first love, the truest love, that I ever knew. 

I was a dick, a habit to kick and age-old curse. Times I pushed you away, not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t know how to show it. I’ve carried the weight of my own shortcomings, the scars of past mistakes. It’s not easy to break free from the patterns that have haunted me for so long. 

I tend to laugh whenever I’m sad, I stare at the crash it actually works. My laughter becomes a balm, soothing the wounds that losing you has carved. I gaze at the wreckage of my life, the chaos and the pain laid bare before me, and in that midst, I find a strange sort of solace. Laughter becomes my defiant cry against the darkness. Laughter has become the wall to guard my past, charmed with humor as people say. 

Making amends, this shit never ends. The quest for redemption feels like a relentless tide, washing over the shores of my regret, where every effort to amend seems to dissolve into an unending sea of resolution. It feels like rubbing salt into my wound every time I saw you. I couldn’t bare to do it when I first saw you, I don’t know if I regret it.

I’m wrong again. I was always wrong, seeing only shadows where there was light. As time unfolded, it got worse.  I’ve misread the map of your soul, casting shadows where light was meant to dwell. Your presence was my guiding star. My one and only best friend. 

Love is the the most twisted curse of all. I love you Suguru, I’m sorry.

a/n: my first fic here! english ain't my first language so don't be too harsh on me. i recommend reading this while listening to the song. i also saw an edit of them with this song in tiktok *chef's kiss* it's so good.

[italianhomosexuality]

you don't have to know what to say or what to think on ao3

The first time it happens, it's an honest mistake.

(The times after that are also honest mistakes, but Nico feels like he should've known better.)

He's been working really, really hard to learn American Sign Language. After his three days in the infirmary, after working night after night, talking to Mr. D, struggling to learn how to open up to other people and how to finally be a 15-year-old teenager who tries his best to not let his lifelong trauma get to him too much, Nico di Angelo had become close friends with one Will Solace.

He'd never thought he'd be able to have a friendship with someone like Will. Someone who didn't take shit from anyone—he made sure to make that clear—, but was doting and cared for everyone else, sometimes a little too much. Someone who was as bright as the sun itself, who could light stars in the sky just by smiling, who could coax Nico's fears out of him and make him feel equal, not judged.

Someone who Nico could see himself loving.

Okay, and, woah, that might be a little too far, but was he wrong? He was finally allowing himself to feel hope after The Incident (mental trademark), letting himself have friends and a crush that didn't feel like ripping his insides apart and stir-frying them for dinner. So what if Nico's eyes lingered a little too long on the way Will's hair glowed against the infirmary's emergency lights?

(“Nico, when the siren rings and lights up, you stop everything and you go help!”, Kayla had yelled at him the first time it happened. He only felt death in the air after Will finally started running after the patient.

It was that bad.)

Who could blame him, then, for wanting to learn the language the boy he liked felt more comfortable with? Will had assured him that he did just fine with English, that his Cabin Nine hearing aids worked more than perfectly, but Nico had seen the way he got excited whenever he got to sign with someone. There were a few Deaf demigods around camp and Will knew every single one of them. Sometimes, he would sign while speaking, and it made Nico's Italian self happy because hand gestures! Then it made Nico's gay self happy because Will's hands, oh my gods, and then Nico wanted to learn how to make Will's face light up like that.

So, he learned. He got familiar with the computer in the Big House, watching YouTube videos on the matter, practicing in the mirror, going up to other campers who were signers and fighting social anxiety like his life depended on it. He had nailed most stuff by week three. The power of hyperfixations.

He did it all hiding from Will, of course. It was meant to be a surprise. He would walk up to Will, sign something, and Will would be like, “Nico, I didn't know you signed!”, so Nico would reply, “I learned just for you!”, and they'd hold hands and kiss and skip into the sunset.

A guy can dream, right?

“Hey, Nico!” Will yells out from the infirmary steps. “I'm done with my shift. Wasn't expectin' to see you here.”

Gods, his accent is so cute.

“I just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing,” says Nico, preparing himself mentally for what comes next. “I have a surprise for you, actually.”

“Oh, you do?” Will gives his side-tooth smile, the one he does when he's excited for something he doesn't want to show excitement over.

Nico takes a deep breath.

“Food-you-want?” He signs, slowly but surely. “Me-hungry.”

Will blinks.

“Do that again.”

A warm feeling bubbles up in Nico's chest. Embarrassment, adoration, nervousness, teenage crush? He doesn't really know. He only knows that Will's cheeks look flushed and his voice is barely above a whisper, a tone Nico doesn't get to hear often, so of course he signs his sentence again. He'd do anything Will asks for.

“Do the last sign again.”

“Hum,” Nico starts, feeling a little off. He signs it again, anyway, placing his hand shaped like a C in front of his torso, following a line from the center of his collarbones down to the middle of his chest, then vice-versa. “It means 'hungry'... Right?”

Will takes a deep breath, face redder than Nico's ever seen.

“It means 'hungry' when you do the movement once,” he explains, carefully, doing the sign. The same handshape and movement Nico did, but just once, from the collarbone to the middle of his chest. “When you do the movement twice… It means something else.”

“What does it mean?”

They stare at each other. Nico's eyes are wide. Will's eyes are so blue. Nico would pay more attention to the blue if he weren't so preoccupied with—

“It means 'horny'. You signed, I'm horny.”

—With running away.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The second time it happens, Nico is still embarrassed by the first one.

Maybe it had been his fault to not pay a lot of attention when the online video he was watching went over the five parameters of ASL. But it wasn't entirely his fault the two signs were so similar, right? Will assured him afterwards—after he found Nico and after a few awkward laughs—that it was a very, very common mistake. The signs were really similar, after all. Nothing wrong with admitting that.

Still, Nico couldn't help but feel his face heat up every time he remembered that day. He'd told his crush he was horny. Unwillingly, sure, but it was sort of true! Nico was still accepting what being horny meant, but he knew that, even in the mildest sense of the word, he was horny for Will. Embarrassing, but honest.

So now, they were hanging out in the Hades' cabin, just the two of us and a bunch of DVDs they'd stolen from the Apollo cabin and Chiron's stash in the Big House. A mix of old rom-coms, sci-fi, noir, and historical dramas, limitless options, but they still argued over what to watch.

Nico suggested, finally, Back to the Future. Will adjourned his case.

As Will walks back from the DVD player, having put the disk in there, Nico takes a deep breath.

“You-eat-want-what?” he signs, going over each sign in his head like a mantra. He does not need a repeat of last time. Then, he raises his eyebrows, signing, “Pizza?”

Will goes as red as a tomato in the face.

“N-No, I'm good,” Will stutters, fanning himself like Hazel does when she's shocked. “Not hungry.” 

“You just came back from a 12-hour shift,” Nico deadpans.

“Let's just watch the movie.”

So Nico is taken back to nights at the Lotus Hotel, when they would have movie nights and play Back to the Future in a loop. Marty McFly might have been his first boy crush. Briefly, he imagined Will in a costume like that for Halloween. But, for now, they're doing just fine, thighs close enough to touch, Will's hand nearly making its way to Nico's scalp for some good head scratches, and life is good.

Sooner than Nico would've liked, it's curfew time. The DeLorean is long gone, and Will is rising up to his feet, stretching, his shirt riding up, and Nico sees the sliver of skin, with a little of hair on his navel, and, oh, gods, he shouldn't be seeing this, but Will is really handsome, and—

“Walk me out?” he says, sweet as ever, and Nico can't say no.

“I had a good time,” says Nico, leaning on the door panel. The moonlight makes Will's hearing aids glimmer.

“Me too,” Will replies, smiling. “The infirmary today was as excitin' as a mashed-potato san'which, good Lord.”

His accent got thicker the more tired he got, just like Nico's.

“Good-night,” Nico signs. “Sleep-good, you.”

Will's eyes linger on Nico's hands, then on his face. His expression is unreadable. It seems… fond? Happy? Nico doesn't know. He just knows he wants that big smile.

“By the way, Nico,” Will starts, voice a little serious, “this is how you sign 'pizza'.”

He goes through the motions. It's just fingerspelling, Nico notices. P-i-z-z-a.

Nico furrows his brows. “What did I sign?”

“You signed…” Will takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I wanted to eat, uh, the… The female genitalia.”

Nico slams the door so hard he doesn't know how Will keeps all of his teeth and nose intact.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The third time it happens, Nico is just plain tired.

He had been on a week-long trip for his father, working on some old business in Louisiana, fighting the occasional monster that came his way and shadow-traveling out of danger—no longer to an inch of his life because he didn't want to make Will worry about him. His clothes are a mess, his hair is greasy, there's soil built up under his fingernails, he hasn't had an actual meal in days, and he's exhausted to say the least.

After showering, eating, and bed-rotting any leftover worries away, he sleeps for fifteen hours straight. He wakes up still exhausted, though a little less, so he walks up to the infirmary since he has nothing better to do. Might as well get a check-up while he's there.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says to the head of blond hair when he sees it.

“Good afternoon, di Angelo,” Will replies, looking ready to tackle any challenge, bloody or non-human, that comes his way in his combination of scrubs, cargo shorts, and Jesus sandals. “You look like you're near 'bout past goin'.”

Nico doesn't know what he's saying, but shrugs anyway. “I'm tired.” Then, he signs, “Me-tired. Coffee, me-need.”

Will smirks.

“All you had to do was ask, Death Boy,” he replies, amused, and Nico lights up.

“You have coffee?” He doesn't know why Will looks so smug about coffee, in a way he's never looked before, but he lets himself be led to the infirmary kitchen, watches Will drape over the Nespresso machine, churning out a nice cup of pure, slightly-processed espresso.

The smell is enough to make Nico's eyes open a little more.

“Also,” Will says, putting his doughnut down by the table, still smirking for reasons unknown, “the sign for 'coffee' goes like this.”

He demonstrates. Nico barely follows, focused on taking a sip from his coffee.

“You signed, I need to make-out. You've gotta pay more attention, di Angelo, or— oh, my gods, Nico, breathe! You're gonna burn your throat! Nico!”

☀️🤟🏻⭐️ 

Nico is tired of failing.

It's not like he's failed-failed. Will has been more than helpful, willing to show him the ropes and correct his signs, and they've actually spent more time with the other Deaf campers, practicing and practicing. Nico is still fighting the flush that decorates his cheeks whenever he signs with someone else, but he's getting there. Anything for that megawatt Will Solace smile.

So, on the Fourth of July, as they're watching the fireworks, Will takes his hearing aids off, saying the noise makes it hurt. Nico gets a little antsy, but shakes it off, and would rather focus on the way the red, white, and blue from the sky makes Will's freckles change colors, too.

And he looks so good tonight. He ditched his usual medic attire for something still Will, a white tank top, denim shorts, an American flag bandana to keep his curls out of his eyes and flip-flops. Nico dressed similarly, but in a black t-shirt and black shorts, black socks and black sneakers. No bandana; only Will can pull it off.

The tank-top is low cut enough that Nico can see his tattoo peeking out. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thinks to himself, lost in thought he almost misses the way Will is waving his hand in front of Nico's face.

“Hi,” Will signs. “Here, fun.”

Nico nods.

“Confess-me,” Will signs. It's a closed fist by his sternum, opening outwards, like he's pulling something out of his chest. Nico translates it to, I need to tell you something, then nods again. Will takes a deep breath. “Me-like-you. Me-like-like-you.”

Nico's breath is stolen. He doesn't know where it went. He doesn't know what's going on. Off in the distance, someone whoops loudly and a group of campers cheer, but he can only focus on the opaque thump of the fireworks and his own heartbeat increasing pace against his chest. Will is staring at him, blue eyes like the sky, like the bandana, like the prettiest gemstone one could conjure.

“Sign-you-learn. Why? Me. Special-you. Me-like-you, why? You.” When he points at Nico, the final 'you', he does a flourish, like he's honoring Nico. You learned sign for me. You're special. I like you because you're you.

Nico feels words bubbling up in his throat, but doesn't let himself say anything. Instead, he moves his hands like he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror before.

“Me-like-you. Long-how? Long. Favorite-person, you-mine. Date-you, I want.”

I've liked you for a long time. You're my favorite person. I'd like to date you.

With that, he finally gets a megawatt Will Solace smile.

[jewishcissiekj]

Rewatched Hunt for Ziro (Quinlan's one of two TCW appearances, S3E9) because now I have more information about Quin and wanted to judge his characterization but now I have like a bunch of quinobi screenshots so:

Why is this episode so gay. What was the reason. Did they know wherever Quinlan goes homosexuality follows. Oh he has an effect on you. You are both men. What's wrong with you

Dude why was his second line in the ep complimenting a dude Also why is he trying to squeeze his way into every homoerotic relationship of Obi-Wan. First Cody then Cad Bane dude maybe chill Additionbally I strongly dislike his TCW design, maybe it's the blocky shapes that don't fit with the fluid image of him from the comics I have in my mind or maybe it's just that I hate the TCW style and maybe both It just doesn't work for me idk

KEEP YOU FUCKING HANDS TO YOURSELF MAN WE KNOW YOU WANT HIM

Quinobi content but at what cost (reduced to a comic relief character)

Yeah well where else would your eyes be looking deep into the other's eyes what the hell Obi-Wan

I need them dead

This is a 20 minutes episode where men touch each other more than they do in the other 132 Clone Wars episodes love me some 'close friends'

Holy shit they're holding hands!!!@!@!!!11!11 holy fuck!!!!!!21!1

Geuine question what is Quin looking at here for almost 10 seconds. That's not where Obi-Wan eyes are. Is he just staring at hs chest. Is he looking at his- *gunshot* (Is that what Obi-Wan meant by keeping their eyes forward)

I never doubted you moment! Woah this is just like Star Wars: Republic #70-

Hey why are you fighting with another man's lightsaber. Why is he putting his life in your hands. Why. Perish.

Yeah ok next one

You are? hanging off a cliff? with another man?

Insane that this is how their portion of the episode end. You'll know they'll be ok with each other. Especially after seeing that gayass smirk

His only (TCW) apperance after this was in Destiny (S6E12) btw, and probably the only thing close to an interaction with Aayla (HIS FUCKING PADAWAN) in canon

He should've had full Jedi robes here idc if it wouldn't make sense for them to design an entire thing for a bg character that appears for 10 second he's wearing his mission gear it's stupid

[master-of-the-game]

seeing you make oil paintings of elim garak has changed something about the way i perceive art, both in what others make but also in what i am capable of making.

it’s probably due to learning mostly euro-centric art history, but i’ve always thought of oil paintings as like the peak of painting ability? like, it’s fancy and it takes a while so i thought that it must be the best (ignoring the fact that my artistic field is mostly in acrylic paints and 3D sculpting and yet i still consider it very good). and i’m still working on disproving this sort of mentality that there are mediums inherently better than others, because it’s incredibly limiting to my creativity to impose a higharchy, and also it feels kind of xenophobic.

i digress a bit. point is, i’ve viewed oil paintings as a medium only deserving of gallery-type realistic portrait stuff, which is very much not what i do. i don’t make the sorts of fancy art rich people would pay for- the type of art i thought oils were for. i make paintings of comic book characters and sculptures of my personal heroes, i make jewelry and clothes and stuffed animals. stuff that i enjoy. which is good!

but still somewhere lurking in my brain was this voice telling me that on some level my works weren’t as meaningful or creative because they were fan works or made from materials i’m not an expert in or because the only people i draw and paint and sculpt are queer and trans, like me. that because my art was self-indulgent, on some level i suppose i thought it lesser.

but then i see your art. and holy shit! you’re work is INCREDIBLE! at first i was excited because, hey, i’m a big star trek fan, and garak is one of my favorite characters. i love coming across fan art of him, and it always manages to strike a chord with me. but then. as i looked at it closer, i realized it was on canvas. as i scrolled down i realize it was oil on canvas.

before, i’d pretty much only seen fanart as sketches on paper or digital drawings. one that is really only meant art-wise for quick sketches or planning of what will become “real” works, and one that doesn’t actually take up any physical space in our world, and is stored away in a little digital file.

but oil on canvas? that’s not meant to be thrown away, it’s meant to be held in gloved hands, as it is precious, and it’s not meant to be hidden away in the “files” on a laptop. no, those hang on the walls of museums or houses, meant to be displayed with pride for all to see.

and with those too colliding thoughts, that of fan works as some lesser form of art but oil paintings being the art of the rich and talented… well i realized that both were wrong. fan works are not in any way shape or form lesser than original works. what makes my layered ink painting of dream of the endless any less important than my painting of the ocean during a storm? nothing! they’re both good works. and on the other side, there is nothing that makes my oil paintings more important than my acrylic paintings or my sculpture or my knitting. it’s all art, lovely art, in the end. and the only thing that really matters is that i enjoy it.

seeing your art has helped me break some (minor) yet harmful thoughts i didn’t really even realize i had. so thank you for that. also your garak art is fucking good, and it really makes me think about what sort of life he would have after ds9. anyways, thank you. that’s what i’ve been meaning to say (that’s what this whole thing is). thanks for changing my vision for the better.

Oh wow! You know, it is very important and gratifying to know that results of your work make person rearrange their thoughts and views on something. Thank you for your sincerity! Now back to subject. I personally believe that fan work can be something fine and vice versa something fine can be a fan work. One thing that is very important to remember and remind yourself is that most of fine art that you've mentioned - gallery and most famous works (at least in european tradition) - are, well, derivative. Of Bible, of ancient myths. Yes. All this stuff can be considered maybe not fanart - but it is a subject for discussion - but illustration at least. And it is still fine art. Book illustrations - oh well. Sometimes I want to hang them on the wall, especially old ones. So - why not? Fan work always has a connotation of something derivative, and it certainly is... But just as well as most of the most prominent works. Dixi :D So that's the matter. Medium of course matters but medium does not always define the subject of art (except for common sense), as you've said. It's just maybe the cost of medium (some watercolor brushes for some reason cost... ehm. Too much :D) that defines its price, but not necessarily. I like thinking about this issue and discussing it... Plenty room for ideas. Thank you!

[dilatorywriting]

Random question cause I've just seen an event and I'm starting to find idia a bit annoying lol but I do still like him when he makes sense but I wanted to know why YOU didn't like him lol

Okay I give my whole ass disclaimer that I know Idia is a fan favorite and I completely get why. In the words of Hades, I get it. I got it. I got the concept. But I just personally don't vibe with him.

Mostly I think it's because I've known quite a few people with his personality/archetypes in real life who were just absolutely awful, and that colored my opinion a lot. It's a fun concept for a character, very not fun to deal with in real people. Which, tbf, would be the same for pretty much all of the Twist boys. But as a nerd and someone in a very quote-unquote 'intellectual' field of work/education, I have met too many people like this.

But as like, an aside on top of that bias, I can tolerate most traits or flaws in other people, in real life and in fiction. My one, personal, irredeemable, nitpick is hypocrisy. Everyone comes from somewhere different and has different experiences that shape your values and ideals, but the second you start being a hypocrite, you're just proving that it's not the values, it's you being a dick. Idia for a lot of his vignettes etc. is incredibly judgemental of his classmates, while simultaneously lamenting how everyone would judge him for his interests. You don't get to be a dick to people and then be all 'uwu no one likes me' when they call you out on it. Like in the Ghost Bride event! Everyone shows up to save him--intentions entirely good or otherwise--and he spouts off enough ungrateful/mean comments that it turns into all of them basically being like 'fine go die :)' I remember thinking it was the funniest shit, and it was definitely meant to be a comedic moment, but the problem is that he never really recovers from those moments. It's always him being a dick, inevitably getting roasted, and then that's... sort of it.

His one redeeming trait in my opinion is Ortho and his obvious love for him. But like, even that gets tainted a lot of the time. Like in Ortho's vignette for his robes or whatever, he gets so excited to go to the opening ceremony! And when shit goes tits up, Idia just like... refuses to interact with him? To the point that the groovy image is Ortho pressed up against the door just... waiting for him? Ortho would give literally anything for his brother, and yes we're told Idia feels the same, but more often than not he still puts himself first. I'll give my disclaimer that I haven't read Idia's book. I know the gist of what happened to the OG Ortho, but like, I don't have the details. Maybe it gets better. But for the most part, until that book, all I'd really seen was things perpetually working out for Idia whenever he needed it (every event he basically gets what he wants--the new years bags, the wishing star, etc), while never having to deal with the consequences of him being nasty to other people and then just going on to complain more. Which. Ack. It just personally rubs me very much the wrong way.

Again, I completely get his appeal. His character design is absolutely gorgeous and sometimes the guy says some genuinely funny/unhinged shit. My favorite characters have literally tried to kill people and I'm sure drive some people into an absolute rage, so like, no judgment here. He is just very much Not My Vibe. At least, not at the moment. Maybe it will get better in Malleus's book.

[callmelyc]

Written for Twitter julance:

#2023JuLance

Week 1: Sharpshooter, Part 1- The Birth of a Name

If anyone on this planet had looked up they'd think lance was a shooting star. Blue lighting up the night as she hurled down to the planets surface to crash-land like a meteor in the night

And now here lance was hiding in the desert rock formations watching galra swarm the wreckage. It's just his luck to not only be separated from the others but to also have fallen smack dab into the center of a galra invaded planet.

"Shit-" lance curses watching them poke and prod at his baby blue from a safe distance but he knew he wasn't in any shape to fight right now and he sure as hell didn't want to be a prisoner. He'd barely spotted them to begin with with his head injury and all making his vision spin.

Just when he thinks the soldiers might turn to come his direction lance feels a small hand touch his own. It takes everything in him to not full body flinch and risk blowing his cover so he holds his breath.

He glances down slowly.

And is surprised to come face to face with a small....gecko?...looking closer lance thinks they remind him a lot of the Geico mascot but large enough to be a small child. They're about three feet tall, pastel yet colored like an oil spil when the sunlight bounces off their scales. It's honestly pretty mesmerizing to look at he could admit, if only his head wasn't swimming and everything hurt-

Stop it lance ur getting off track!

"Uh...hello?" Lance whispers warily only earning a smile from the little creature.

"Hello! I am selkie!" They say brightly "please follow me"

"W-wait I don't even kno-" but his protest fall quiet as his hand is taken in a surprisingly strong grip and he's pulled through tunnels that exist through the cliff sides. Selkie stays quiet throughout their trek and though lance had the second thought to fight the alien off he felt it was safer to trust this geico mascot over the galra anyday.

So here he is in a tightly fitted cave following behind someone smaller than pidge noting that every change in lighting causes selkies skin to shift both in pattern and color. It's....very distracting and it's not until they come to a stop that lance realized he didn't watch their path here.

"You are safe here!" Selkie says proudly looking up at lance with the cutest smile drawing him out of his own head and back to attention.

He glances up to take survey of the location only to find them still inside the cave system it's just a dead end "where are we?"

"The caverns" a new voice announces causing lance to finally be more on edge yet turns to see another small gecko alien of the same height as selkie "it is the only place the galra cannot navigate. Their large stature causes them to get stuck in the tunnel systems."

Oh. Well that makes sense lance thinks "and you are...?"

"I am Lorix, I am the leader of the Gekkota people." Lorix squints at lance taking in his stature "are you of the crashed vessel?"

"Oh you mean Blue? Yeah a mission gone wrong I was separated from my team and crashed here" lance watches how Lorix reacts to this for a moment deeming him a little trustworthy "My name is Lance, I'm the Blue Paladin of Voltron"

Lorixs eyes widen just a fraction "Voltron is real?"

"Yep! And it's our job to help where we can so-" lance kneels down to be eye level with the two "why don't ya tell me a bit about your galra problem."

As it turns out the skin shift wasn't just for show nor their small stature. The Gekkota people are known to be able blend into their surroundings through color reflection off their scales. That paired with their ability to fit into small tight spaces meant they could be practically invisible intruders and the galra wanted them for forced spy work.

"When they overtook the planet most fled into these caverns to hide-" selkie added before turning somber "they have started to flush us out through poisons, we fear they may result to other means soon"

As he watched these two share their story lance had already known hed help them but looking at them now only solidified his resolve.

"Hey-" he says into the silence gaining both their attention "how far up do these tunnels go?"

~*~

Lance finds himself learning the cave tunnels over the next day and a half because if his plan was gonna work he needed all the pieces in place perfectly. As it turns out the tunnel systems go all the way to the top and deep into the ground below the base surface level. It reminded him a lot of how ant farms or burrow systems might look: tight passageways, circular dead ends, and hundreds of interconnected pathways.

The point is it's easy to get lost and he doesn't wanna die down here especially if he's aiming to help these people by fending off the galra as they come.

So he's memorized the paths he needs, he knows the positions he'll switch between like the back of his hand. The galra won't ever spot him and they'll be falling before they get the chance. It's more ruthless than he's used to being, but lance was alone here and he had an entire planet of innocent people to help. you can bet your ass he was gonna do it by any means necessary.

Lance sit here now waiting for his moment to act. There's specific times the galra will send out people to do the rounds in an attempt to capture more of the people here and with blue close by they might even be looking for him. Little do they know lance won't let them get that far.

He's crouching in his first position atop the left cliffside just out of sight, Bayard drawn and formed into a sniper rifle. When the first galra patrol comes into view he lets them get a little too close just to make sure they don't catch on too quickly.

A deep breath

In and out

Three shots fired in quick succession followed by three bodies hitting the ground. The bombs they'd had in their hands go off but this time no one in the caverns is fighting the poison.

Score 1 for Lance and 0 for the Galra.

This continues over the course of the next three days, galra appear each group growing larger than the previous and lance strikes them down one by one from altering positions so they never spot him.

He rotates the choices, ya know to spice things up a bit, really lay on the confusion and he knows he's winning because they've grown increasingly more frustrated.

The galra attacks grow more violent too, they've gone from smoke bowms filled with poison to flat out trying to crumble the caves themselves. Eventually they switch it up from simple small patrol groups to full on fleets of galra and sentry combined, both more heavily equipped.

So he switches his tactics too, lance doesn't let any get close if he can help it. He's shooting from further away now, further than he thought himself capable of hitting his mark, but with every shot fired he never fails to hit it like a bullseye. The moment he sees them in the distance, the moment he can tell it's an enemy and not an innocent bystander he lines his rifle and takes his shot.

His cover provided Selkie and Lorix with the time and safety to gather more of their people into the same tunnels as well as gather more needed provisions. It also allowed for Intel gathering.

"They have grown weary of you Paladin Lance" Lorix says one day during a down period "you have taken so much of their forces here they had to request for backup"

Lances alien sandwich falls from his hand "backup?"

"Yes! They seem to have contacted a secondary fleet in a neighboring galaxy-" he says between chews "we are a dead zone, the only life in this galaxy exist here so they did not think to send more aid until you arrived."

"Yes yes!" Selkie adds "there is much radio chatter about the missing blue paladin. They do not have the equipment to move your crashed vessel but with the backup they seem hopeful in gathering it"

Lance let's that information sinks in while continuing to eat his previously dropped sandwich-dont judge him!- before his mind zeros in on one part "did you say there was radio chatter about me?"

"That is correct, from various sources it seems" Lorix confirms with a nod "some galra some otherwise-"

Lance grips lorixs tiny shoulders "otherwise?? Did you happen to catch any names or descriptions? Do you know what they were saying?"

"Ah- well," he says seeming to think it over "there was a mention of a coalition? And a princess Allura looking for a blue paladin"

"Oh thank god-" he sighs "that's my team, if they can get a signal they can give us backup."

Selkie and Lorix exchange glances before frowning "how will we do that?"

Lance looks back at them pausing to think it over for a minute and smirks "actually....I have an idea"

~*~

It's nightfall when they choose to act, lance knows for a fact they've stationed a heavily armed set of guards around Blue and he also knows she has her particle varried up and loaded. So all he needs to do is get in just close enough to phase through it, run in, set off her emergency signal for his team and hightail it out of there.

First things first though, the guards.....

There's surprisingly only three sentries but for some reason this really sets lance on edge. Something doesn't feel right about this but he can't back out now. He takes his stance, sends a small hang signal to Lorix and Selkie who are on standby and runs out into the open guns ablaze.

It's the first sentry getting shot down that tells lance what's wrong. They were decoys, once shot they send off a visual signal while simultaneously blowing up, which lance found out the fun way.

Aka getting thrown back a few hundred feet and gaining yet another head injury.

Fighting to get back up he knows he has to work fast, that signal couldn't have been anything good, so lance runs. He runs as fast as he can dodging the best he can when the remaining sentries charge towards him because if he can just get to blue she'll let him in.

He feels her weak energy reach out to him and smiles.

He can do this.

Throwing himself into a clean slide he slips right under the final sentry and luckily right through blues partial barrier that flies back up the moment lance is safely inside.

"that's my girl!" Lance cheers climbing back into the safety of her hull.

"I know your hurt baby girl but don't worry-" he pats her side gently while sifting through things to get to the emergency panel "I'll get the team right on it"

Lance works the fastest he can through the dizziness, sets off the SOS signal and does a repeat of his initial fight only this time to leave. It's a narrow escape made possible only by the help of Selkie who manages to trip a sentry into another just long enough for them to get back into the underground.

They move quickly for a bit only deeming themselves safe once back to the center "what do we do now paladin?" Lorix ask worried "the beacon the sentry sent us worrisome-"

"I know" lance sighs "the only thing we can do now is wait. I'll take watch, hold em off as long as I can and hope my team catches the distress signal fast enough..."

Selkie puts a reassuring hand on his arm "you are not alone in this fight paladin lance, we can do what we are best at-" she smiles at him and it clicks "if you are a ghost to them, then so shall we be"

The battle that ensues is a tough one, lance positioned at the highest possible point sniping down enemy after enemy while the Gekkoas work from the ground camouflaging themselves so quickly it confuses the galra enough to be taken down by them. Together they make a deadly team, moving in silence and to the galra invisible the waves that hit them go down like rain.

By the time daylight has arrived on the final day, Voltron arrives and gives a helping hand. They're quick to pickup on lances strategy and in less than an hour they've finally freed the planet Euble and all it's people.

And with their victory lance can finally rest.

~*~

"Sir, we have a report" a large galran says to his commander.

The commander turns, his frown a permanent fixture yet he doesn't glance up from his small device "What is it Vox?"

"It's about Euble, the ghost won sir. They have been freed with the aid of Voltron."

The device in the commanders hand snaps in his crushing grip, the frown turning into a snarl "What?!"

Silence hangs heavy before the commander turns to hit his fist angrily on the nearest wall "we have to report this to the main fleet-"

A com system appears, a video transmission going through before a higher ranking officer picks up the call "what is it Commander Krox?"

"Euble has fallen, The Ghost Rite won"

An angry tsk can be heard through the screen "and who is this Ghost Rite that took down all your men?"

"The sniper of Voltron..... The Blue paladin"

[myrequestblog]

Mafiafell Sans X Reader Probably Incorrect Quotes

Sans: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?  Y/N: It was autocorrect.  Sans: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?  Y/N: Yes.

~~~

Sans: Y/N is playing hard to get.  Sans: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

~~~ Sans: *angrily presses Y/N against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?!  Y/N: ...  Y/N: Are we about to kiss-

~~~

Sans: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-  Y/N: I wrote you a poem.  Sans, already crying:You did?

~~~ Y/N: The stars are so beautiful...  Sans: They're just giant balls of gas.  Y/N: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-  Sans: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.  Y/N: Oh...

~~~ Y/N: What are you in the mood for?  Sans: World domination.  Y/N: That's a bit ambitious.  Sans: You are my world.  Y/N: Aww...  Sans:  Y/N:  Sans:  Y/N: OH.

~~~ Sans: Did it hurt when you fell-  Y/N: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-  Sans: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.  Y/N: ...  Sans: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

~~~ Y/N: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Sans is? Because Sans is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

~~~ Sans walking into the kitchen and seeing all the limes peeled: Y/N, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.  Y/N, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

~~~ Y/N: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.  Sans: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

~~~ Sans: Is something burning?  Y/N, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.  Sans: Y/N, the toaster is literally on fire. ~~~ Y/N: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.  Sans: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?  Y/N: Seize the dick.

~~~ Sans: Where are you going?  Y/N: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn't get me one!  Sans: I told you I did! Its coming here on Friday!  Papyrus, knowing full well that Sans got Y/N an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

~~~ Y/N: How do you tell someone that you wanna have sex with them in a polite way?  Sans: Excuse me Mx. Would you give me the honours of indulging in sexual activities with you?  Papyrus: What the fuck is wrong with you two?

~~~ *at 3am*  Papyrus: *runs into Sans’s room and turns on the light* Wake up sleepyhead!  Sans: *wakes up* Wha-!  Papyrus: *cackles*  Y/N: *sits up from where they were sleeping behind Sans* What the fuck, man?  Papyrus: *jaw drops* Wait WHAT-

~~~ Papyrus: Hey, what’s up?  Sans: The sky.  Papyrus: No, I meant like, what are you doing?  Sans: Oh, Y/N.  Y/N: *highfives Sans* Nice!

~~~ Papyrus: I like your top, Y/N!  Sans: I have a name, you know.  Y/N: *sighs* Why. Why are you like this.

~~~ Papyrus: So… I’ve seen you’ve been spending a lot of time with Sans recently.  Y/N: No, Papyrus, it's not what it looks like, I swear.  Papyrus: Oh really? So no reason for me to be jealous?  Y/N: No! You’re the only one for me.  Papyrus: Is that so?  Y/N: I promise! Sans and I are just dating, okay? They’re my partner.  Papyrus: So there are no best-friends-feelings involved?  Y/N: You are still my one and only best friend! They’re just the love of my life, nothing more!  Papyrus: But I’m still the platonic love of your life, right?  Y/N: Of course bro!  Papyrus: Bro...  Sans: What the-

~~~ Y/N, looking through their clothes: Has anyone seen my top?  Papyrus: Sans's in the kitchen.

~~~ Papyrus: Sans doesn’t deserve you.  Papyrus: If they don't treat you right by now, you're gone.  Y/N: I'm gone.  Papyrus: Now go chop their dick off.

~~~ Sans: Are you a painting?  Y/N: What-?  Sans: Because I want to pin you to a wall.  Papyrus: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG THEM OR SOMETHING-

~~~ Gaster: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.  Papyrus: I sleep with a knife.  Y/N: Both of you are pathetic.  Gaster: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?  Y/N: Sans.

~~~ Gaster: *about Sans and Y/N* They make a cute couple, huh?  Papyrus: They certainly are standing next to each other.

~~~ Gaster: What’s the announcement, Y/N?  Y/N: It’s a lecture. Papyrus’s gonna tell us everything they know about sex.  Sans: It should be an enjoyable 60 seconds.

~~~ Y/N: This food is too hot... I cant eat it.  Sans: You’re very hot, and I still eat you.  Everyone at the table: *silence*  Papyrus: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!  Gaster: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

~~~

Sans: Y/N! I can't do this stupid math!  Y/N: What’s the math problem?  Sans: Well, we have to add the bed, subtract the clothes divide the legs, and hope we don’t multiply.  Gaster, covering Papyrus's ears, while Y/N smacks Sans upside the head: Not going to lie that was hella smooth.

~~~ Papyrus: Y/N, you'll be working with Gaster and Sans.  Y/N: Alright! My fantasy threesome!  Everyone else: *blank stares*  Y/N: ...Of people on a team.

~~~ Papyrus: Do you love Sans?  Y/N: Yeah, I do.  Papyrus: Gaster! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks!  Gaster: We all love Sans. You should've asked if they were IN love with them.  Y/N: I thought that was implied.  Gaster: ...  Papyrus: ...  Y/N, looking straight at Gaster: Congrats Papyrus, you just won 100 bucks.

~~~ Y/N: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.  Papyrus: Throw rocks at he.  Sans: Hot Dogs.  Gaster: Kill him.  Y/N: Thanks guys.

~~~ Papyrus: Why do you look like that?  Y/N, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?  Papyrus: Like you’re dead.  Y/N: It’s because I’m dying. Leave me here to perish.  Gaster: Y/N accidentally called Sans “babe” in front of everyone today.  Y/N: *sobs into the floor*

~~~ Sans: That's ridiculous, Y/N doesn't have a crush on me.  Papyrus: Yes they do.  Gaster: Yes they do.  Y/N: Yes I do.

~~~ Sans: I love you.  Y/N: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.  *Sans and Y/N kiss passionately*  Papyrus, to Gaster: You owe me 20 dollars.

[droppingartintotheinfinite]

little fic/poem thingy i did about dave and bro

-

TG: i keep thinking about you

TG: its stupid i know

TG: youd call me stupid over it too

TG: sneer or sigh or some shit so id know how goddamn disappointing i am to you your would be knight raised and trained to be a hero given every opportunity to live up to you and endlessly fucking it up failing at it harder than i probably wouldve at school if you let me go to one

TG: but you gave me so much shit its all piled up in my head a big ol mountain of fecal matter flies buzzing around it and that many flies are fucking loud ok i can barely fucking hear myself think in here

TG: and i gotta get it all out somehow and tossing it into the infinite void of your goddamn inbox like yesterdays garbage or me in a spar with you when theres stairs nearby seems about as likely to work as any other thing

TG: so

TG: i think

TG: actually

TG: fuck this is hard

TG: i

TG: i kind of hate you sometimes, bro

TG: and i

TG: god

TG: fuck it you know what

TG: here ill ironically rap it

TG: i coulda been a poet man

TG: i coulda been a star

TG: and instead here we are here i stand the last will and testament of a dead fucked up broken little man

TG: you musta thought you were god cuz you put me up on the cross

TG: every damn day but im not jesus im just bleeding freely from these fucking holes you cut into my palms

TG: or maybe you thought he was god or it was just a semi ironic nod to a mythos you knew was wrong or it was just your note to play in sburbs shit song

TG: damn thing went on and on

TG: the chorus was my death or maybe that was the melody and the chorus was my endless panting breaths a medley of exhaustion left me huffing puffing never able to catch my breath never able to find a fucking end to that heady rush of deadly bloodshed dripping steady

TG: was it your will or his will that led in letting my blood spill bloodletting red spilling all over the floor hands blistered raw desperately gripping onto that fucking sword

TG: holding tight like it was a lifeline like i was ever gonna win a fight against you like if i just tried harder cried harder id somehow come out fine like being a hero of time ever meant anything but a shitty corpseparty conga line

TG: like i didnt wonder some days if youd give a fuck if i fucking died

TG: and god bro i didnt hate you for the crime of making me john technically created me but youre the one who brick by brick laid out the shape of me cut me like a gemstone to get the grade of me

TG: always a failing grade never a pass maybe you always knew id be a failure at this class for all it was supposedly made for me maybe they all knew and i was the last to understand that my dumb ass never woulda had a chance

TG: sorry if im being a little crass but i learned it from you because you taught me everything i knew and everything i know too i know im too much of a screwup failout dropout loser to live up to you

TG: thats the lesson you taught me best the message you drilled again and again into my head and its the one that sticks with me now youre dead and gone all these texts left unread whether theyre sitting in your inbox or bouncing around in my head

TG: youre a hero and im a pawn and maybe im wrong but that seems a little fucked up a little messed up kind of a not great thing to tell your son

TG: and it took me so goddamn long to understand that

TG: for the truth to dawn on me that it wasn’t wrong of me not to wanna play along to the song he wrote for me the one thats broken me the one you sung for him so loyally all along

TG: did you want the best for me when you took a sword to the chest for me or was that just another test for me you faced down death for me and lost and sometimes i wonder if you loved the rest of me or any of me and all this thinkings gonna be the death of me but i cant stop

TG: i feel like im gonna pop all these thoughts bouncing round and round my head like rubber fucking balls and they call me a god but im just a shitty kid in shitty pajamas and what are the odds ive ever earned a nod like that applause like that a cause like that and god, bro

TG: it was fucked up

TG: what you did to me was fucked up

TG: you arent even a real ghost but yours wont fucking leave me alone no matter how many times i tell myself youre gone

[gooopy]

also 🌧 and 💔...

WOAAAAA GOOPY HOW COME YOUR AWESOME FRIEND LETA YOU HAVE TWO ASKS. YAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

🌧 what would they do if they have some free time and no responsibilities?

-scully i think would drive around a bit in his shitty car. Pack some lunch and a few beers and drive out somewhere pretty, sit in the bed of his truck and eat his lunch and drive home (being a little tipsy makes him drive better <- NOT TRUE.) And then he would probably not know what to do with himself, maybe get drunk for realsies and sit out on the steps of his porch and watch the sun set and the moon rise, look at the stars and make up shapes and sleep off his hangover the next day without needing to go to work. (He still wakes up on time, but lets himself curl up in bed for longer)

-teddy i think would similarly go out and drive! Go to a nice little cafe hes been eyeing, treat himself to little goodies. He would be obsessed with little treat memes if he had tumblr. Bring his camera out to a park and take some pictures of flowers and bugs, go to a fancier grocery store and pick up some high quality chicken for walter at home and maybe a bouquet of flowers to spruce up the dining table! Eat out too, just fully treating himself! Then go home and sit at home (if he really has NO responsibilities then the photos he took will develop themselves while he sits on the couch!) And tell walter about his day (shes indifferent and is only mildly interested in the fancy chicken)

💔 how are they at forgiveness:

-scully forgives way too easily. Its a bad habit, he tends to get real mad if someone does something to him but as he thinks about it and it simmers in his noggin he starts to think about ways its pro'lly just his fault. He shoulda seen it coming, or hes assumin' shit about what they meant, or hes just plain rememberin' wrong or didnt understand. Makes sense, hes not the sharpest tool in the shed. Then he goes and says sorry for reacting the way he did and the cycle repeats

-teddys a lot better about it. Hes got more of a spine for sure and has a much better idea of when someone actually made a mistake and when theyre just saying sorry to be nice. Tends to accept apologies, and the chances of that happening tends to go WAYYYY up if you get a little goody for him along with it. Wont apologize for standing up for himself (unless he really needs their favor, like a boss) and doesnt mind giving the cold shoulder until he gets an apology in turn. When he gets a little loopier he tends to forgive way less though, assumes everyone has it out for him and has some secret ill will!

[gerardpilled]

I'm not even particularly invested in this bc I don't read MCR fanfic, but you shouldn't go around saying people who enjoy fanfic need to be psychological evaluated, this only makes you sound like a bully who gets off on guilty tripping people. Just leave them be. Also, I'm guessing you're lacking a little context, but the bulk of MCR fans were actually 13-15 when the band peaked and they just believed in the stage gay the band members performed at their live concerts. It's important taking this in the context that in the mid 2000s any kind of queer representation in media was nonexistent or completely stereotyping and offensive (I recommend watching @verilybitchie video on emo subculture and bisexuality). Sometimes, believing in something, even as absurd as it may sound, is important to people and how they understood their own identities. T.a.T.u was fake af and yet I don't think I'd have come to terms with my own identity, sexuality and so on so early on if I hadn't had watched two girls singing about their undying love for each other on MTV. I know it's easier shitting on people when you dehumanize them as some kind of horny weirdo nasty queer girls that are somehow abusing these middle aged white celebrities for fantasizing about them, but to most people, these famous rock stars live in another world quite literally. Maybe you're a upper middle class person who lives in LA and meets celebrities grocery shopping on a regular basis, but remember that these artists are actually famous world wide and most fans won't ever be able to see them playing live. And then, there's the fact that in most cases, it's journalists that bring up fanfic during interviews for shock value, and not the fans. Also, you guys seriously need to stop overreacting about shit celebrities said 15 years ago on twitter.

Hi, okay so you’re referring to this post I made but the thing is I wasn’t talking about fanficiton, I was talking about genuinely believing Frank and Gerard had a secret romance. Perhaps you’re right that my wording was a bit harsh and rude, but the over reaction was meant to be at least a little funny.

I read and have always read mcr fic if I’m being honest! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it because like you said we are never going to have contact with them and I personally can separate fiction from reality. I actually watched the video you’re referring to months ago and it has actually shaped a lot of my current opinions on the cultural impact of mcr. The thing is it’s not 2007 anymore and I was more referring to the people on tumblr who have more context than a stage kiss. There are people out there that when presented with all the facts in the world believe that Gerard and Frank are going to leave their wives and be together. I have gone through periods where I thought there was something more that went down between them but these days I just don’t really care if it actually happened or not. The way I read fic or think about their relationship is through hypotheticals where I think stuff like “wow if this actually happened it would have been so interesting!” but I know it didn’t. I would definitely be considered a “weirdo nasty queer girl” I just think putting genuine weight into the belief that they are in love does more harm than good to younger, impressionable people at this point in their careers. That’s just me though

[arclundarchivist]

Spoilers C3E45

Turn back, ye shits, or be SPOILED!

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Right, so first and foremost glad to see Tal back.

Secondly, hot damn Morri is terrifying, fucking Old Lady from Spongebob, AH! Real Monsters looking ass. Quite curious to see where things go with her in two weeks.

Now on to FCG, while not the biggest reveal of the session, Letters origin as a Harmonious Aeormaton is a curious thing. If they were meant to be protectors, and guardians, seemingly caretakes/companions for singular individuals was his “line” targetted exclusively, by what ever Mage caused the Care and Culling, or were “lines” like Devexian, or forms like a Hodmedods used? Also the Professor stated that he has never heard of a Aeormaton with healing abilities which further adds confusion to Letters purpose.

Did the person he was given to show him faith, and that was why they were chosen to be murdered in the first place due to rising Anti-God sentiment in the Age of Arcanum?

Also did this happen after Aeormaton’s were emancipated? Because if so, it adds another shade of darkness to his predicament as a Sleeper Agent.

But this leads me around to Ludenis, in a curious fashion, one could say. Firstly, the Hubris of this fucker is so thick you can taste it. Secondly, I’ll admit, I didn’t believe he’d be drinking his own Koolaid/acting the true believer but I am willing to accept I may have been wrong. Yet, his whole comment about “Power is just a Tool,” makes me think he does not share his Cults “devotion” to this new world, or Otohan’s belief in being “better” than baseline mortals.

I desperately wanted to hear who was on that list of Historic Ruidusborn, especially since he was so cagey about his own connection to the Moon and the Beast trapped within.

That and seeing a comment from someone made it click as to why the Ruby Vanguard(If it Was in fact them and not Otohan doing some fuckery), is that they were likely after lore regarding the Gau Drashari, if any remained, and their connection to the rituals of the Prime Deities. Could be off base, but it would be an interesting reason.

Yet, what drew my attention the most was his rant to Fearne before he left. About seeing the Wrath of the Gods first hand. Now at first blush, while the cast seemed convinced he was talking about the Calamity, I thought he was full of shit or they were just reading that wrong. After all, he is from Molaesmyr, which was destroyed in some unknown disaster, which he was indeed alive for. Yet, the fault for that disaster seemingly lies on the shoulders of Aeor and their fuckery, due to hints laid back in C2.

Yet, a thought struck me. Ludenis lived in Molaesmyr, but shit it was never stated that he was born there. He’s an Archmage, more than that an Elven Arcmage, who has long showed interests in powers that manipulate the fabric of reality and have the power to roll back the wheel of time. What if...what if Ludenis did see the Calamity, though some form of immortality or the usage of the Clone spell he survived into the modern age, but what if we go even further than that. What if he was a Mage of Aeor, what if he saw the “fear” of the Gods first hand as the “hated rivals” returned to Family once more and struck their city from the sky in an act of monumentous Divine Intervention.

A shard of Aeor landed in Molaesmyr. He could have in some shape or form landed with it. The folly that devestated the city, corrupting the Savalierwood, and eventually leading to the breaking of the Star Razor? A misstep in his attempts to finish his people’s work. After all, he said it himself Killing the Gods, “Has Been My Life’s Work.”

Hell, wouldn’t it be wild if he was behind the Care and Culling? Nah...unless!

Moving away from that crazy old bastard...we learned the likely name of Ruidus’s people: The Reilora. Somal claimed they were behind the Flairs, not Predathos, so either they are working for the entity, their likely creator and she wasn’t in the know as much as the others were, or there is some more nebulous shit going on up there. After all, like she said, some of them appeared in Flesh, while others were simply energy. But most importantly, she stated that some were kind, empathic, caring...could that just be a ploy, or is there something else going on up on that Moon. To quote the codger himself, “Creations outgrow their creators”, and that includes the purposes given to them. If Predathos created them after consuming Ethedok, and Vordo...what did he make them out of, and why would they not also wish to throw off the shackles seemingly placed on them by the divine.

I still say Ludinus’s plan is doomed to failure, likely a cataclysmic one if he “succeeds”, especially since, with the nebulous entity and existence of the Luxon, who is to say Predathos wouldn’t simply turn his attention to Exandria, even if he consumed the Gods first?

Also I saw someone say the Gods dying would be a good thing, cause the Raven Queen would get ate, allowing Vax to come back and I just...I don’t think that is how that would work at all.

Also saw another, claiming that a Ruidus win could allow CR to divorce from WoTC, since most of the Gods are pulled from base D&D content and I just...I don’t think even if they did pull away it would be anywhere near that simple.

[boilingrain]

Rain Draws Ashfur Several Times

So Ashfur won that poll I made about which Warrior Cats villain I should draw, so instead of doing the normal thing and drawing him once, I decided to rotate him in my mind for a bit and then draw him multiple times

I am completely normal about this greasy, melodramatic loser

I tried to stick to canon (or at least, the depiction of Ashfur in his sprite on the wiki), but this looks wrong to me

So then I drew my own personal design for him! His stripes n stuff aren't meant to be that dark, I messed up while coloring him but I didn't want to redraw him. The only problem was the stripes, so I didn't feel like it was bad enough to justify completely redrawing him

While usually it's something I save for cats with the -heart suffix, I gave him a heart shaped marking on his chest. It was whole when he was a kit, but as he got older the heart "broke"

Realistic? No. A fun design choice? Yes

Also while I'm not very good at drawing spotted tabbies (or tabbies in general tbh), that's what I draw Ashfur (+ Ferncloud and Brindleface) as

Then I drew him in the style that I draw Starclan cats in! I've been meaning to talk about how my Starclan/Dark Forest designs work, but the more important details for Starclan cats are that they're lighter in color than their living appearance, any markings are sharper or star shaped if applicable, whatever killed them sparkles and that the longer they're dead, they start looking less like cats

That last one is a bit hard to explain in words, but for example Firestar would start looking like he's actually made of fire, Longtail's tail would get even longer or Hollyleaf would start growing actual holly leaves out of her body

Body horror, but not as disturbing to look at or as painful to the cat as it is for the Dark Forest residents.

While Ashfur's death technically didn't have anything to do with fire, I think he'd always be surrounded by smoke as a reminder of what he tried to do (I was mainly thinking of Holly, Jay & Lion when I put that in, but it could also be easily connected to Ashfur's part in Firestar losing a life to the fox trap)

I imagine the smoke would be there as a reminder to him that just because he was let into Starclan doesn't mean that he's completely off the hook or that Starclan didn't see the shit he tried to pull. I also think that he wouldn't really get to deliver prophecies or anything particularly important.

I have to imagine that he was trying really hard to not lose it when Hollyleaf was allowed into Starclan (considering the Starclan trial stuff, Ashfur was probably at Hollyleaf's trial, because we all know she definitely had one)

Also I made a little doodle of a wet Ashfur. My Ashfur isn't very big or muscular, he's actually short and scrawny. He just looks a bit bigger than he actually is because he's really fluffy

Dark Forest Ashfur (as he should've been in canon)

I'm not sure why the picture quality on this one is shittier than the others

I'll talk more about how I draw Dark Forest cats at a later time, but some of the more important stuff is written down here already.

All Dark Forest cats have red outlines, though. No exceptions.

If I remember correctly, it's mentioned that there's no prey in the Dark Forest/Place of No Stars, so my Dark Forest cats are all real skinny. The longer they've been there, the more starved they look.

Unlike how Starclan cats will have their appearances change based on their names, Dark Forest cats will have their appearances changed based on their deaths (or the circumstances around it) and their crimes. Much like Starclan cats, your appearance changes more the longer you've been dead.

Cats like Ashfur or even Hawkfrost will have begun to change, but it isn't as bad for them yet as it is for cats like Mapleshade or Thistleclaw.

(Since I'm probably not going to draw Thistleclaw any time soon, I'll just tell you that one of the things done to him as a result of being in the DF is that despite being still mentally the same age as he was at his death, his appearance is that of an apprentice, and probably on the younger side at that. His treatment of Tigerpaw, Spottedpaw and Tiny, as well as being why Bluefur had to get rid of her kits, leading to the death of Mosskit, means that I get to hit him with the baby stick. Have fun being intimidating and using your power against people now, idiot)

Additionally, whatever killed a Dark Forest cat is still there. Yes, this means Tigerstar 1 is solidly Not Having a Good Time(tm)

Ashfur is burning from the inside out, both because of Firestar + the Fire Scene, but also because he fueled himself with his hatred of Squirrelflight after she ended their brief relationship. He let that anger and hatred fuel him, and now he will become the fuel for a fire. Naturally, this means he's now very hot to the touch and he radiates a ton of heat.

Dark Forest Ashfur gets an extra eye stripe that he doesn't have in his living design and also longer eyelashes because I wanted to try and make him look more like he has mascara running down his face... it made sense to me when I drew it.

And here's something a lot dumber

I wanted to draw a quick & silly bad doodle, so here's Ashfur as that one Elmo meme but I was too lazy to look at the actual meme for reference

(This is what color his stripes n stuff are supposed to be btw. Dark gray, I just accidentally made them black before. The only one of these designs that's supposed to have black stripes is the Dark Forest design, and that's just because the DF cats are darker in color than their living designs)

I was going to add more art to this post but then my brain decided we were done drawing for now despite how I had more ideas, so this is all you're getting, I guess.

Admittedly, this was really fun to do and I might do something like this with the polls again at some point. I'm actually really proud of this art, too :)

Sorry that I'm really bad at drawing spotted tabbies, I wear I'm trying to figure out how to draw them better