#but it's also 6am

[puekjh]

Guys, what if Jeremy has always been super insecure about his glasses, so he would often just take them off pre SQUIP because he thinks he looks more like a loser with his glasses? But he also looks more like an idiot without them, because he's way more clumsy without them. And when he gets the SQUIP it tries to get Jeremy to just wear his glasses, because there's nothing wrong with wearing them and a lot of people have them, but what might actually effect Jeremy's popularity are all his insecurities, because the others might pick up on that. Don't get me wrong the SQUIP is still terrible, but I think this is a much more interesting storyline than just removing his glasses.

[lambment]

Dont know if you were joking about needing catboy references a couple of weeks back but here ya go

Theres one for sheep too if you need that

the sacred texts.... thank you for bestowing it upon me

[sky-is-the-limit]

Okay, dearest followers, be honest.

Which one of your fictional crushes do you truly believe that you could pull irl? Realistically. Taking all factors into account. Whether you were in their universe or not, up to you. But be HONEST.

[papanowo]

i think dan should get to be a little weird too. as a treat

[compaculaaa]

Promise

[k7ino]

first 2 are based off my twt drafts beacause iam. unwell. and the other 2 are based off the gays from nj snl sketches again. im Not Well

[heartorbit]

i just wanted to draw the ave mujica outfits .

[wasyago]

so, would you?

nothing important under the cut, you don't need to look haha

[carissime]

Literally no thoughts just Gojo after your wedding carrying you over the threshold of your hotel room. You’re not leaving for your honeymoon until the morning but he nearly trips on the doorframe in his haste.

“You really don’t need to carry me—”

“But it’s tradition, we need to consummate the marriage!” he insists. Within seconds his lips are against yours and he’s fumbling with the light switch, and you finally swat his hand away and just beg him to take you to the bed.

He works the zipper of your dress down, part of him sad that he’s not going to see you in this gorgeous gown again, but then it reveals your white lace lingerie and the groan he lets out is broken and guttural and desperate.

This is far from the first time he’s seen you like this, but there’s something about this moment here and now that makes it so much more intense, so much more intimate and he just never wants to let you go.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and his breath hitches.

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Shh, I know. Just lemme take care of you, like I promised.”

And when he sees the gold band on his fourth finger pressing into the skin of your hips as he sheaths himself inside of you, he nearly loses himself, sending up a prayer to whatever gods are listening that he can keep his promise to keep you safe and happy forever.

[padawanduck]

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[calmparticles]

complete strangers

[marclef]

i went to Pride today, may have gotten a bit excited from all the different people and flags and stuff. so i drew some Fakes to get my excitement out hehe ✨

(he can change colors to match Peppino, so, who's to say this isn't an option as well?)

[four-pointed-leaf]

hey guys mira’s gonna go to taco bell and get stuff do you want anyth. oh. um. you guys like. good? yeah? okay it looks like you’ve got it handled i’ll just get you a crunch wrap for later siffrin bye

[fast-burn]

day 13: free use for winter warmers, maxiel, explicit, 1k

If it's a race weekend, there is a whole protocol involved. There are schedules to cross-reference and inconspicuous paths to travel around the back of the paddock. They have to do it out of sight, tucked away in someone's driver's room. Even if the media is expressly forbidden from publishing any pictures, the track is still always crawling with fans who all have cinema-quality cameras on their phones.

At the factory, it's easier.

Max can push Daniel down between his knees, under the table at some boring meeting, and everyone just politely averts their eyes. He can have Daniel in the little office space they've set aside for him to take Zoom calls, or in the middle of the cafeteria, or on top of the RB19 if he wants. Or like now, after another hundred laps in the sim when he's groggy and his eyes are practically square from staring at the data all day.

He catches Daniel's wrist before he can walk past for a coffee break and tugs him until he stumbles and sprawls into Max's lap.

"Max," Daniel complains, echoing GP across the room.

"What? I just need a little pick-me-up." He's already stiffening in his pants. He can usually hold off, but the beauty of this arrangement and of being at home base is that he doesn't have to. That's the deal.

GP looks at his watch. "Alright, we'll take twenty minutes then, instead of ten." There are mutters of agreement, and most people wander off for caffeine and a piss. Daniel starts unbuttoning.

"You're a naughty boy," teases Daniel, eyes twinkling as he shoves his jeans down with his underwear, just enough to expose himself. "Insatiable today. What is this, the third go?"

Max doesn't answer that, just leans forward in his seat and kisses Daniel. There's no language in Daniel's contract about it--the one thing that Daniel doesn't have to give Max, but does anyways. When Max reaches around, Daniel's hole is puffy and hot. Daniel sighs and deepens their kiss, tilting his head and licking into Max's mouth. Max presses his middle and ring finger inside Daniel. He thrusts them a little, curls them, then uses the leverage to encourage him up so he's balanced on the frame of the sim rig, right where Max wants him.

Lube and come slick Max's fingers as he draws them out, leftover from the tail-end of lunch. Daniel's mouth is shiny with spit when he finally leans back enough that Max can pull out his dick. And then Daniel sits right down on it.

Max hisses at the sudden tight heat, can't help but thrust up, hips colliding with the tight muscle of Daniel's cheeks, and then he can't stop. The movement of his cock fucking in and out sounds squishy, sloppy, like Daniel is just a fleshlight that Max has been jizzing into all day. Which. Isn't far off the mark.

"Is it gonna hurt your feelings if I can't come this time?" Daniel asks him, rocking in-rhythm to Max's desperate pounding.

"Yes. No, you," Max gasps, "I think. I think you can."

"Nuh-uh," Daniel murmurs and brings Max's hand to his soft dick. "Here, feel."

Max groans, "Daniel please."

Daniel shakes his head. "You can beg all you want, but I'm fucked out."

It's not fair. If their positions were switched, Max could come all day long if Daniel wanted it. He could just leak like a faucet, dribbling and wetting his clothes with it and everywhere he sat down and everything he touched. There would be no end to it.

Max shifts his hips, thrusts up at an angle that he knows will drag the head of his dick against Daniel's prostate.

"Oh, oh," Daniel groans and Max beams. He feels Daniel throb in his hand.

"See? You can come."

"Nah, don't think so." He leans down and licks up Max's neck, sucks on his earlobe and scrapes his teeth across it, sparks of pleasure tinging in his wake. "You're not gonna last that long, I can tell. It's okay, just use me. I'm good for it. You made me all loose."

Max clenches his abs and his fists and tries to hold on, but then Daniel kisses him again, and well. It's only natural that he climaxes, tired and besotted as he is.

"Phew, that was a pretty nice one," Daniel says as he climbs off Max's lap, grunting like an old man as he straightens his knees. Max has enough brain power to reach up and spin Daniel around, bend him over the steering wheel so at least he can see.

Daniel used to wax, which Max thought was insane behavior and told him to stop. Now he can watch his come dribble out and smear it into the whorls of dark hair around Daniel's hole. He sucks his thumb and his fingers, licks Daniel's ass and slides his tongue inside until Daniel is whining and Max can't taste anything but spit. All clean.

"Okay, I'm good," Max says, and is satisfied by the way it takes almost a full minute for Daniel to get himself organized. Daniel is hard now, but you snooze you lose.

Daniel shoves his palm in Max's face, pushing him mostly-gently back into the seat. "You maniac," he says and rubs the heel of his other hand against the bulge in his jeans. "Look what you did to me."

"I told you that you could come. Go ahead." But the rest of the team is starting to trickle back in now.

Daniel shakes his head. "Maybe I'll wait until I get home. Then you won't be able to participate."

He won't, though. Max is sure of it, that Daniel will corner him on the way out the door at the end of the day and he'll ask for Max to watch, or to fuck him again, because he's not allowed to just take, he has to beg for it instead.

Thank god that Daniel likes this just as much as Max does.

[ping-ski]

csp mini guide: edge eraser!

@lunasun hihi!! i tried to make an visual and wrote an explanation i hope this makes sense but if not then i failed LOL i hope you don't mind the tag

Erase Along Edge (Edge Eraser) text version!

1. Sketch or line as normal on one layer. 2. On a separate layer, below the lineart, color as normal. 3. Return to the lineart layer, and set it as the "Reference Layer". (Toggle ON by clicking on the lighthouse icon!) 4. Return to the color layer, select the "Erase Along Edge" tool, and erase the offending overlap! Aaand then you're done! Try stick to the outside of your lineart to avoid accidently erasing what's inside. As long as your brush size is reasonable, it shouldn't erase what's inside too much or at all unless if your cursor is inside of the lineart!

Quick Troubleshoot

"It won't erase properly?" "My lines aren't opaque and/or is too messy." That's OK!! While I do recommend solid lines (few gaps or none) or opaque lines (at 100% opacity), it's NOT necessary! It just makes using the tool easier! Most of the time you can get away with it, so don't worry about having to change your style or anything. If the lines are not solid (have gaps) or aren't opaque (lower than 100% opacity), please refer to the tool properties/settings! You may need to experiment here. Adjust the "Tolerance" and "Area Scaling" settings and repeat the process until you reach your desired result! Please note: If lines intercept (creating small "pockets) or opacity is still an issue you may have to manually erase anyways (sorry lol). By all means, it isn't perfect BUT it is a BIIIGG time saver once you have it down! The creator (pharan) makes more specific points and fixes in their guide that is far more in depth! I just want this to be easy to understand for anyone who's never used it before or is trying it for the first time! :)