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kingsoowolves · 1 day ago

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study break | lsh

pairing: high school best friend!Sohee x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k

a/n: I kept thinking about sohee's freckles and how best friend!Sohee would loooove to cuddle with you on study breaks and this came out. This work made me realize how much I like writing banter during smut. I'm a little crazy, me thinks.

contents: best friends to fwb to lovers. smutt and some fluff. Sohee is a teasing little shit. cheating, reader has a boyfriend, mentions of said boyfriend during sex (so trigger warning for all of that). switch!reader and switch!sohee. they are both on the last year of high school. fingering, sex without a condom, cumming inside.

for reference: I mention the Suneung in this, which is the korean exam for university entry, also known as the college scholastic ability test (CSAT).

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like.

You’re in that limbo zone between light and heavy sleeping, the start of a dream forming in your mind when a firm arm encircling over your waist pulls you from it, waking you up. You sigh as you feel the stiff body press against your back next and then a face nestling in between your shoulder and neck and a nose breathing in the smell of your hair.

You pat the hand resting on your belly and ask, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Lee Sohee’s gruff voice affirms from your neck. “Just wanna cuddle.”

You chuckle and let your body sink against his chest, your hand resting atop of his to intertwine your fingers between the space of his. “Okay, loser. Let’s cuddle.”

But despite Sohee’s statement of just wanting to cuddle, soon enough he crosses a leg over your body, glues his hips to yours and starts pressing short soft kisses on the back of your neck.

You open one of your eyes to stare at the clock on Sohee’s nightstand, the display showing it’s already near 06:30 p.m., which means it’s time to go. Then you untangle your hand from Sohee’s hand and press it against the mattress beside your pillow to move yourself up and out of it. “I should go home. My parents may be wondering where I am.”

“Wait,” Sohee whines, his arm tightening around you and keeping you on the bed with him, his sleepy face looking adorable and stuffy. “Can’t you stay for dinner? You can shoot them a text. They won’t mind.”

You crane your neck back to look into his eyes. “Sohee, I should go. We’re not going to study anymore. And you’re already–” you press your lips together and look down to where his pelvis is pressing on your ass, at the obvious bulge inside his pants. “You’re hard. And last time we said it was going to be the last time.”

Sohee smiles at you when your eyes focus back on his face and moves his hand to tuck in a strand of hair behind your ear. “We always say that. And it never is.”

He’s right. It never is. Though, the first time it happened it really was an honest mistake.

Since you’ve gotten to your last year of high school, you’ve been having study sessions with Sohee, your best friend since elementary school. Sometimes you go to the school library after your classes, but most times the study encounters happen in your home or his. A couple of months ago, when you guys were studying at his place and you were drowsy from pulling an all-nighter the day before because of the biology exam you had in that morning, Sohee suggested you take a study break to sleep it off. Just thirty minutes so you could get your brain working again.

Half an hour later, you were cuddled together on his bed with Sohee’s erection pressing up on you, much like you are right now. Back then, you made a snide remark about how he was a virgin who got hard from just being close to a girl and he counter attacked saying you were too much of a chicken to do something about it. You were never the one to back down from a challenge, so one thing led to another and… you did it.

It wasn’t planned. It was just a spur of the moment thing, a stupid mishap you could blame on your teen hormones and teen stress over your classes. After that, you both silently agreed on pretending it never happened and life went on like normal again, your friendship remaining intact. Except for the fact that when you laid on your bed late at night, you could see Sohee’s face contorting from pleasure behind your closed eyelids and hear his whiny moans of your name ringing inside your skull.

After the second incident, which happened only ten days later, you labeled it a mistake and promised each other it would never happen again. After the sixth time, you started to take the pill so you could do it raw. And on the eighth time, it didn’t happen during a study break, but when he dropped you off at your place after a day with your friends in a carnival. You still remember trying to muffle your moans to not disturb your parents upstairs while Sohee ate you out in the downstairs bathroom.

So, if your numbers are correct, right now is the fifteenth time. And Sohee is right. It never is the last one, not really.

“We can’t keep doing this, Sohee,” you state while he caresses your cheek. You try not to lean into his touch, but you fail miserably.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, thumb rubbing under your bottom lip. “Aren’t you stressed from studying so much for the Suneung? I’m stressed, too. Let’s get rid of that stress together.”

Your eyes drop to his lips and the wistful words that are coming from them, his voice enticing you to do all the wrong things. “Sohee-ya–”

“I think you just need to be fucked nice and deep and then you’ll be all good again,” Sohee continues, descending his hand to your uniform shirt to unbutton it. “And Sion-hyung hasn’t been able to do that lately, right?”

Sion would be your boyfriend for two years now. The one who went to study computer science at Seoul National University. The one who you haven’t seen for over three months. The one who, despite meeting you for a few school breaks here and there, has been more and more distant each day, taking hours to reply to a simple text. The one who didn’t even care to fuck you the last time he saw you. That Sion. He’s just one more of the many reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.

“No,” you reply, licking your lips and gulping down your saliva as you watch Sohee’s hand wandering from your opened shirt to the bottom of your skirt. “He’s been b-b-busy.”

“I know. Poor guy, too busy to fuck his own girlfriend,” he says, the sarcasm dripping from each word. He flips your skirt up and grabs a handful of your now exposed ass, watching the way your flesh pours in between his fingers. “You must be feeling so needy, right, Y/N-ah? Because of his disregard towards you. You're lucky you got me.”

“Shit, Sohee,” you whine, moving an arm to rest on his shoulders. Your upper half is twisted up while your legs remain laid sideways, but you don’t care because Sohee starts grinding his clothed dick in between your butt cheeks and it feels amazing. “Keep doing that.”

At your request, Sohee presses himself more forcefully against you, his right hand beginning to toy with the waistband of your panties while his left one holds your face. “Yeah, Y/N-ah? You like it when I hump you like that?”

“I like it so much,” you whisper over his lips, staring into his eyes, the cute mole on his right waterline almost disappearing when he squeezes his eyes and huffs while he moves against you. “I like it better when you fuck me, though.”

Sohee’s gaze glints at your confession, at you giving up so quickly, offering yourself on a silver platter to him. That’s all he ever wanted.

“I can do that,” he says. He drops a light slap on your right butt cheek, making you jolt, more from the shock than from the force he applied, his fingers massaging over the spot right after. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

You nod fervently, moaning when you feel Sohee’s hand finally pressing on the crotch of your underwear over your clothed cunt. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, Sohee.”

Sohee smiles at your desperate state, then leans in, muttering against your lips, “Anything for my best friend.”

You move your hand to the back of his head to crash his lips against yours. You’ve been addicted to the taste of Sohee’s mouth ever since the first kiss. You love the softness of his plump lips against yours and how his tongue is quick to invade your mouth and lick every crevice of it. You love the breathy moans he releases while kissing you and how his protruding canines dig on the flesh of your bottom lip. But you love it even more when he makes you stop the kiss with a moan because he stuck his hand inside your underwear.

“Fuck, Sohee,” you groan, hitting your head back on the pillows while he spreads your juices all over your cunt.

“Shit, you’re always so wet for me, baby,” he says while he watches his fingers playing with your pussy. “Do you also get this wet for your boyfriend?”

You bite on your lip while you tug on the hair on his nape and Sohee squeals. “Shut the fuck up.”

Sohee scoffs at you and moves his hand to the front to rub at your clit, making you support your hips in the air. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

In spite, you move your hand down the front of his body to reach for the bulge in his pants, outlining it with your open palm. Sohee moans and the circles he’s drawing on your clit falter a little as he looks at your hand palming him. “Instead of trying to rile me up, you should be doing what I asked you,” you say, undoing the button on the top of his pants and opening his fly. When you reach inside to grab his cock, he moans again, resting his forehead on your clavicle while you pump him. “Fucking me.”

Sohee rasps his teeth on your skin and moves a hand up to nudge on your shoulder, moving you until your back is against his sheets and your legs are open with him kneeled in between them. Then he moves the same hand to shove his pants and boxers down, making his cock and your hand spring free from them. His dick stands red, angry and pretty under the warm light of his bedside lamp and you lick your lips while you watch the precum falling from its tip.

“Riling you up is part of fucking you, baby,” Sohee says while his other hand keeps working on your cunt, his fingers slipping down to prod at your hole. “Ever heard about foreplay? Or your boyfriend never cared to get you ready before putting it in?”

“Quite the opposite,” you counter, closing your fist tighter around his length and fastening your pace to see the way he closes his eyes and opens his mouth, trying so hard to contain his sounds. “He never needed this much time to get me there.”

Sohee puffs air from his lips and smiles smugly at you, bending down at the waist to press his chest against yours. “As if that fucker could ever get you this soaked in so little time,” he spits, serious eyes set deeply on yours and two of his fingers finally inserting inside you, coaxing a moan of his name from your lips. “Or have you moaning his name like that,” he continues, massaging your walls with hard and measured swipes of his fingers. “Or get you to plead–”

“Fuck me, Sohee, please,” you groan out, an unknown source forcing the words out of your mouth, probably propelled by Sohee’s digits inside of you.

Sohee’s wicked smile grows even more and he rests his forehead against yours. “Exactly, baby, exactly that.”

Once he’s satisfied that he made his point, Sohee tugs the waistband of your underwear down until it’s off your body, throwing it somewhere on his room floor. He gets back to you instantly and you spread your legs to give him space while he settles above you, your hands on your knees, waiting for his next move. He presses his forearms beside your head and brushes hair out of your face whilst his cock nudges the inside of your thigh and you move a hand down to grab it.

“Condom or no condom?” Sohee asks and you look at his eyes for a brief moment before moving your gaze back to the image of your hand moving up and down his length leisurely.

“I’m still on the pill,” you say, your peripheral vision catching how Sohee tries so hard to hide his smile on the curve of his elbow.

Then he’s also sliding a hand down to grip at the root of his dick and you let go of it just as he puts it over your pussy, his tip brushing against your slippery folds. “Fuck, you already feel so good like this,” he says, breath fanning your cheeks.

“You always feel good, Sohee-ya,” you admit back and Sohee gazes at your eyes when he finally slips inside of you.

You both moan in unison at the feeling and Sohee stills when he’s buried to the hilt, a hand gripping your hip while the other presses down on the mattress beside your head. He lets himself feel your drenched warm walls enveloping him for a moment. You scratch your nails at his lower back and clasp your free hand around his wrist, wrapping your legs around his waist to move him impossibly deeper inside of you and rutting your hips against his to feel pressure on your clit.

You still maintain eye contact through it all and once Sohee starts to move his hips backwards and forwards, he grabs your hand that’s around his wrist and pins it beside your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. You stretch your head upwards slightly and that’s enough to have him leaning down to kiss you. It’s a messy kiss full of spit, teeth and tongue, but with him thrusting deep and slow inside of you and his hand connected to yours, it means everything.

Then a particular hard thrust has you biting his lip and whining. And just like that the moment is gone and Sohee is back to teasing mode, his eyes glinting with mischief when he asks next, “Do you let him hit it raw, too?”

“God, you yap too much,” you exclaim, moving your hands to shove at his shoulders until he’s on his back, his cock slipping out of you. You climb on top of him and put it in again, then clasp your hands over his on both sides of his head, immobilizing him. “Stop ruining the mood.”

You watch Sohee visibly weakening from the change in position, his eyes droopy and his teeth sinking on his bottom lip. This way he hits a new angle inside of you that always makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, but you set a serious gaze down his face while rolling your hips into his and he stutters out a hoarse moan that inflates your ego.

“Fuck, I love it when you get on top,” he says, his eyes focusing on how the ends of your pleated skirt scrape his lower abdomen every time you move, covering the view of his cock inside you.

“Then shut the fuck up and take it,” you reply, snapping your hips harder over him and looking at how he scrunches up his eyes and opens his mouth in a groan.

Seeing Sohee like this, under you and completely at your mercy, with pink cheeks, heat blooming at his neck and his mouth closed – if not for the moans and whispers of your name he occasionally releases –, he’s never looked more beautiful. Not that you’d ever tell him that. So you concentrate on the moles that decorate his pretty face and start riding him quicker and sharper, applying more force into the palm of his hands and dropping moans of your own.

After a while, Sohee opens his eyes to look down at your skirt again and you feel him trying to loosen one of his hands from your hold. But he always gets so powerless when he’s under you that he doesn’t have the strength to do it and he ends up just pressing his blunt nails on the back of your hands. In turn, you press your knees tighter around his waist and drop some of your weight into the palm of your hands, keeping him still.

“Wanna see it,” he whines, his pleading eyes looking from the bottom of your skirt to your eyes and back again. “Please, baby–”

“No, you don’t deserve it,” you reply sternly and he whines again.

Sohee being sullen and subby is really a sight to see. There’s no resemblance of the man that teased you and made you mad a few minutes ago. Right now, there’s only a whiny pretty boy being confined below your body, his bottom lip jutted out as he tries to plant his feet to the mattress, trashing his legs when he isn’t able to do it.

He looks truly majestic.

“Quit moving around,” you command before bending down to kiss his puffy red lips.

You kiss him slowly, accommodating his lips between yours and then stroking them with your tongue until you lick your way inside his mouth. You take your time with it, savoring the taste of Sohee and swallowing all of his throaty sobs, releasing one of his hands so you can move your palm to his face, tipping his head back so you can kiss him better. Sohee whines one more time and you think you’ll never get tired of the sound of it whilst you feel his hand creeping down to your ass, his fingers pressing into your flesh when he starts to help your flow, moving you up and down his shaft.

Once you’re done tasting his mouth, you move your lips to his cheek, kissing every mole on his cheeks and the one on his waterline, your hand going down to unbutton his uniform shirt so you can press your mouth to the beauty spots on his clavicle and shoulders next. When you start adding your teeth into it, Sohee becomes restless, finally being able to get rid of your firm hold so he can press his fingers on both sides of your waist and buck his hips up to meet the roll of yours.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says while you nip at his pulse point. “If you keep doing that, you’ll make me cum.”

You snicker at him and pull back to look at his face, one hand pressing on his cheek and another on the collar of his shirt. “You like it when I kiss you, pretty boy?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his gaze stuck to your lips. “I like it. I like– I like you.”

Sohee kisses you then and you push his confession to the back of your mind while you taste his desperation on your tongue and ride him faster. When he releases a groan that halts the kiss, you sit up and grab his hand on yours, moving them to the bottom of your skirt. He quickly takes the hint and bunches the fabric up, securing it around your hips so he can watch where you two are connected.

“That’s what you wanted to see, Sohee-ya?” You ask, making a show of decreasing your movements and rolling your hips slowly, the sound of your cunt squelching around his cock filing both of your ears.

“Yes, fuck,” he moans, griding up and into you to get you to speed up again. “You look amazing taking my cock like this, baby. You make me so crazy, fuck.”

“Your cock feels so good inside me, Sohee,” you say, leaning forward slightly to feel his pubic bone press on your clit. “God, I hate you so much.”

He smirks, bucking up with a sharp thrust that has you moaning and weakening in his hands. “No, you don’t.”

No, you don’t. You don’t hate him, not at all. And that’s the damn problem.

You’re already tired and slowing down, your back aching and your thighs burning. So when you suggest to change positions again, Sohee has you pressed under him a beat later, his body crowding yours to the mattress as he drops kisses on your face and chest, his dick sliding in and out of you in a quick rhythm. He tugs down the cups of your bra enough to attach his mouth to one of your nipples and your back arches off the bed as you feel him lavish your hot skin, his hand rubbing around your other nipple and then pinching it.

You feel you're almost there, the flames spreading from the tip of your toes and fingers to your wrists and ankles, your breathing coming ragged as your brain gets mushy, your cunt starting to convulse around Sohee’s dick.

“Sohee-ya,” you whimper, locking your ankles over his ass and tugging at his hair.

Sohee sucks on your nipple one more time and gazes up at you. “You’re close, Y/N-ie?”

You nod, stretching your neck and squeezing your eyes, your hands becoming edgy on his shoulders, fingers trembling. “Gettin’ close.”

“Hmmm yeah,” he groans, rearing back slightly to once more gaze at the way his cock spreads your pussy open and how it gushes around him. “Feels so good, right? It’s like your cunt was made to take my cock, baby.”

You nod again and your pelvis starts to shoot up in time with his movements, your bottom lip trapped behind your front teeth. “Yes, made for you.”

Sohee glances up at your words and then bends down again to rest his forehead against yours, an elated look taking over his features whilst he cups your face with one hand and slides the other to rub at your clit. “Made for me, baby.”

You breathe deeply while he starts the little revolutions on your clit, and you try to contain the string of moans that threaten to get out of you. Sohee still has his stupid uniform shirt with his stupid nametag pinched to it and every time he moves, it comes to your line of vision, making you acknowledge over and over again who’s fucking you, the three syllables of his name taunting you.

One snap of his hips and the nametag is on your eyes. Lee Sohee.

Another snap. Lee Sohee.

A third snap. Lee Sohee.

A fourth one. Lee Sohee.

The fifth one. Lee Sohee.

You grit your teeth together and cover the thing with your hand, closing your eyes while you press it into Sohee’s chest, hoping the pin attached to the back of it digs on his skin. However, you begin to feel the letters of his nametag on your palm, branding your skin repeatedly, still in the same pattern of his cock sliding inside you and his hand drawing circles on your clit.

Lee Sohee.

Lee Sohee. Lee Sohee. Lee Sohee. Lee Sohee. Lee Sohee. Lee Soh–

“You should break up with him,” Sohee says suddenly, breaking you from your trance.

You snap your eyes open to see his irises close to yours, giving him a confused look with a scrunch of your eyebrows. “What?”

“Break up with him,” he repeats. “If you were mine, I’d fuck you like this every day. I’d never neglect you like he does.”

You shake your head slightly, your sanity starting to slip away from you because of his cock, his hand and his words. “Sohee–”

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, pressing harder into your nub and thrusting faster deep inside you, the sound of your skin continuously slapping together ringing on your ears, the walls of your cunt contracting. “Be mine. I want you to be my girl.”

You shake your head again whilst his words register inside your mind. “No, you’re just saying that because you’re about to c–”

“I’m saying it because I mean it,” he presses on. “I love you, Y/N. Please be my girlfriend.”

It’s hard to think clearly with Sohee’s cock hitting the spongy spot inside you and your impending orgasm licking at your sides, making you flex your thighs and your brain becoming foggy. But the earnestness dripping from Sohee’s eyes and the way your heart swells and constricts inside your chest with every word out of his mouth gives you the answer you’ve known for so long. You just chose to hide it from yourself and from him.

You love him just as much. Maybe even more.

“Yeah, okay,” you stutter out and Sohee smiles, his eyes turning into beautiful crescent moons you feel the need to kiss. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Sohee.”

He seals your promise with a kiss, then pulls back to whisper against your lips, “Then cum on my cock, my pretty girlfriend.”

You feel some sort of shame burning on the apple of your cheeks that his words are enough to make you snap. But it is soon washed over by the intensity of your orgasm, how it quickly trickles to all of your limbs and makes you grind up harder and faster into Sohee’s dick and hand, how it so powerfully cascades down on you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess getting railed by your new boyfriend.

When you come back from it, Sohee is kissing your face and his cock is twitching inside you and you know he’s getting there, too.

“You look so beautiful falling down for me, baby,” he mutters, thumbs skimming on your cheeks. “I’m gonna cum for you, too, okay? Where should I?”

“Inside,” you request, locking your arms around his neck to keep his face close to yours. “Mark me as yours, Sohee-ya.”

“Oh, fuck,” he exclaims, fucking you even faster, his hips stuttering with every hit of his tip on your g-spot, his face falling to your neck and his whines getting muffled by your skin. “You’re mine, baby.”

It doesn’t take long. Only a few more thrusts of his hips and he’s there, spilling hot cum inside of you that makes you moan with him. He keeps moving, though, getting you both overstimulated in the process, and only when you press a thumb hard on his clavicle, he whines in fake pain and stops, pulling out and letting his limp body fall beside you.

You look at the fan spinning in Sohee’s bedroom ceiling and wait for your breathing to slow down, thinking about what you just did. Then you start to feel your bra digging on your skin uncomfortably and you pull the cups back to their place again, adjusting it on your chest. When you look to the side, Sohee already has his dick inside his boxers and pants again, his fly still open, and he’s shifting closer to you to snuggle. He crosses an arm over your front, his hand closing around your upper arm on the other side and his lips dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sigh into his hold and move your head to look into his eyes. “Sohee-ya,” you whisper.

He looks tired in his post orgasm bliss, his eyes half-away closed already. “Yeah?”

You drop a kiss to his nose and say it. “I love you, too.”

Sohee smiles and pecks your lips languidly, his mouth not leaving yours for a few seconds. “I know,” he says when he pulls back.

His hand then slides down from your arm to in between your legs, his fingers finding the moistness of you and his cum there. You whine out at the feeling of him touching your abused cunt.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, sitting up to look at it. You sit up, too, and watch as his eyes become hazy because of the way your fluids are mixed together. “God, you look beautiful with my cum slipping out of you.”

You chuckle at him. “You’re such a pervert.”

Sohee looks at you with a glint in his eyes and a wicked smile on his lips, showing off his cute canines. “Should I take a picture of it and send it to Sion-hyung to make it easier for you?”

You slap his right shoulder with your full force and he cries pitifully. “Don’t be an ass. I already said I’ll break up with him.”

You get up, flicking your skirt down to cover the smudge of Sohee’s remnants on your thighs and catching your panties by the foot of his bed. You put them on and feel how the liquid soaks through them and stains them. Then you start to button your shirt back.

“Wait,” Sohee grumbles, moving down to sit at the bottom of his bed and pawing at your waist until you stand in between his legs. He hugs you and looks up, resting his chin on your stomach. “You’re already going home?”

“Yeah.” You slip the last button inside its case and straighten the collar of your shirt. “I told you, my parents are probably searching for me.” Then you hold Sohee’s face and kiss the four moles on his cheek before dropping your mouth to his for one last kiss. “Besides, our study break is over, loser.”

If you liked this work, please consider sharing your thoughts with me on the replies or on my ask box. thanks for reading! 🧡

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psithurista · 2 days ago

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Hey on the off chance you’re a fellow Australian seeing all our American mutuals in absolute despair today, you need to get really fucking serious right now about our own upcoming election. Historically we follow America into left- or right-swings. This time, we are already there. What happened in America shouldn’t be a shock to anyone who paid attention in Queensland. People in my home state voted for a racist, ultra-conservative Christian pro-life advocate whose only policy was putting traumatised ten year-old First Nations kids into adult prisons instead of the guy promising cheap public transport, free school lunches, and cost of living relief through reduced electricity bills and car registration fees.

You need to look at the Auspol news stories from today alone if you don’t think shit is already fucking dire.

Jing Lee was threatened and intimidated into voting with Joanna Howe’s frankly terrifying abortion amendments despite the prior commitments she’d made otherwise. Parliament is abandoning its responsibility to protect whistleblowers, including the one that revealed the unlawful and unethical debt collection practices in which the ATO was engaging. The government quietly made its response to the DSP inquiry today, and that response was “We don’t need to do anything because it’s been so long since this was raised.” This, following the Disability Royal Commission where over two hundred recommendations were made from the findings and not a single one was implemented.

And now the spineless little cunt who sold out every single one of his values the day he was elected Prime Minister announced the social media ban is going ahead. In order to enforce this, what this will almost certainly mean for you is you will, under legislation, be required to connect your ID against all of your internet use. If the implications of that when it comes to censorship, personal privacy, freedom of information, media and journalistic freedom, the ability to organise and the ability to protest, particularly when faced with the prospect of the reversal of women’s and LGBTQ+ peoples’ rights not to mention the everpresent Newscorp machine don’t scare the absolute living shit out of you, then they fucking should.

We are NOT America. All the posts you’ve seen today claiming third-party or independent voters are to blame for the second coming of Trump do NOT apply to us. We have a beautiful thing called preferential voting. This means that when you vote Green (the only major party working to protect abortion rights AND your freedom and privacy online, the only major party calling for the dissolution of AUKUS, the only major party calling for meaningful sanctions on Israel AND an overhaul of our disgusting asylum seeker policy (especially crucial after the IDF openly announced today they have no intention of allowing displaced Palestinians to return home), the only major party trying to wipe student debt and make uni free again, the only major party trying to protect and EXPAND Medicare, the only major party with a serious climate plan, and the only major party actively prioritising a reconciliation plan to treaty with First Nations people), your vote is not wasted even if you’re the only person in your electorate to do so.

If a single other Australian person is following this silly little blog, please please please realise that we WILL see a repeat of the American election here if we don’t start getting serious right now. I don’t know a single LNP voter who knows fuck about shit about policy and isn’t just voting based on however their family voted, and most of them are horrified when they actually hear what they’re voting for. Talk to your friends, family, co-workers about the policies Dutton and Albanese are proposing. Make a bunch of Volduttonmort memes and stick them up around your city. Just fucking do something.

I'm so scared guys I'm so scared

#auspol #i know there are at least a handful of you here who are also australian #if the platform my shitty smutty fanfic has generated can convince one person to vote green it will have all been worth it #long post #important

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hearts4werka · 1 day ago

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NNN day 7 | Underground Secrets

summary: your boss has set up a dangerous mission for you—to take down the intel of the notorious rival gang, The Vipers. Your boyfriend, a drug dealer of a rival organization, Chris is advising you not to go through with the plan because of how dangerous it is for someone like you, will you listen to your boyfriend or value your reputation over the risk of life and go through with the plan?

warnings: ANGST, gang membership, drug dealing, strong language, mentions of committing murder, arguing, a dangerous mission, the risk of life or death, illegal possession of firearm, illegal underground gangs, viewers advisory is supervised! Proceed to read with caution

authors note: and the one week mark finally arrived! Tysm for all of the love and support I’ve received during this whole week and I’m proud to announce that week one has been done, there’s still a lot of steps to take before reaching the end but we’ll get through it! Luv y’all so much & hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The city's dim lights flickered like a heart in distress, throwing long shadows that danced over the crumbling warehouse walls. I slumped against a rusted pillar, arms crossed, determination etched on my face. Chris, the infamous drug dealer from the rival gang, stood before me. His messy hair showed the exact replica of the tension in the air. Our eyes met, his glare sharp, frustration carving lines into his hardened features.

“Are you fucking insane?” Chris exclaimed, running his fingers through his messy locks in pure frustration with my stubbornness. “You’re seriously thinking about going through with this? Killing that intel guy for the Vipers? That’s a one-way ticket to getting yourself killed!” I straightened my posture, breaking the heavy silence between us like hammer on glass. “This is my job, Chris. I’m backed into a corner. My boss demands results, and if I fail, I’ll be the one buried in a ditch.”

“Do you really think I want to see you six feet underground for some bullshit mission?” He closed the gap between our bodies, his voice filled with urgency. “Listen, I’ve seen how these Vipers play. You’re walking into a total trap. They’ll have their eyes on you, and the moment you walk in, you’ll be history.” I stood my ground, not letting his shooting fire walk all over my resolve. “What did you just say? It’s just a job, I’m good at what I do. I can handle myself for once.”

"‘Handle yourself?’ Chris scoffed, a bitter laugh rumbling in his throat before escaping past his lips. “This ain’t some amateur shit, this is the Vipers we’re talking about! They don’t play nice, and this intel guy, he’s not your average rat. He’s got layers of protection, and I promise you, they’ll be ready to take you down.” His words hit hard, a mix of care and frustration mixed together. But I couldn’t show any signs of vulnerability. ‘I get it, but you can’t decide for me. I’m no damsel in distress, Chris. I can fight my own battles.’"

“Fighting and getting yourself killed are two different things,” he retorted, fists clenched together and almost threatening to do unspeakable acts. “And what do you think will happen if you go in there and fail? You think they’ll just let you go? No! They’ll take you out, and I won’t sit around and wait for news that you’re dead.” “You’re trying so hard to act like you give a shit about me,” I shot back, my anger rising to higher levels. “When have you ever given a shit about anyone but yourself? This is my life! If anyone’s making the final choice, it’s going to be me.”

“Damn it, you’re right,” he murmured, his voice barely a breath. “I can’t afford to care about everyone. But you…” He rubbed his face, laying the vulnerability I never saw coming. “You matter. I don’t want another goddamn funeral to attend because of this war.” For a minute, the walls between us felt like broken glass, and I noticed a spark of connection. But that spark couldn't wipe the weight of the mission on my back. I stepped back, shaking my head. “This deep in, I can’t back down. It shows weakness, you know how they treat that in this game.”

Chris's blue eyes blazed with intensity. “And if you have to sacrifice your life to prove a point, then what does that make you? Some fucking plaything for a bloodsucking boss? You deserve better than this!” A sharp stab pierced through my heart, a mix of rage and something deeper like fear. Fear for my life. Fear for this weird connection that felt like a chain. “This isn’t up for discussion, Chris. I’ve got a job to do here.”

His tone softened, becoming almost desperate. “I’m not asking you to quit. All I’m asking is for you to think. We can come up with a better plan. We can…” he paused, then added, “we can work together.” I become blindsided by his heartfelt sentence but I couldn’t let him get anywhere near danger this high of a lever, even though he is a strong ally to have on your side, I can’t bear the idea of him stepping into the wicked battlefield against the Vipers with not enough experience with them beforehand.

“I’m not letting you get anywhere near danger like this, it’s The Vipers. Without any experience with them in the past, there’s no way you’ll make it out of there.” The weigh of my decision hung above me like a noose, knowing how desperate he’s already got to make me stay and to what levels he could climb to make me think I have no other choice. “I’ll be fine, you can’t do this shit alone.” He pleads, the look in his eyes almost begging me to let him go with me, the vulnerable side of him is starting to show that rarely anyone gets to see.

While in the middle of the conversation mix between stubbornness and desperation, my phone rings inside of the pocket of my jeans, alerting me of an incoming call. Pausing for a moment before answering the call, finding out it’s coming from my boss with a demand to get the job done as fast as possible since if the Vipers figure out our plan they’ll be on the move immediately. He hangs up the phone, it beeping which indicates the call has reached an end.

“I have to go, don’t follow me.” I provide, shoving my phone back into its spot while picking up the black hand gun sitting on a nearby old crate. “Don’t dare to argue with me about this further, I have to get it done before the Vipers catch on.” He slumps over to me, rolling his eyes at how idiotic my decision is. Delivering a soft kiss on my forehead before letting go of me completely, glancing down at my face with sorrow etched into the features of his face. “Just don’t die on me, okay?” “I won’t, I promise.” With the last words placed on the table, I take off and walk towards the exit. Slipping on my helmet for protection before hopping onto a black motorcycle, sparing Chris one last glance before taking off into the dark dangerous night with determination to prove my worth and end the Vipers for good.

Guestlist!

| - @strnzzvsp - @sturnsxplr-25 - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

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imsuperhungry · 1 day ago

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the game

The living room is dim, with a few soft, scattered lights casting a cozy glow. Your mom is sprawled on the couch, casually lounging and watching what you can only assume is Grey’s Anatomy. You chuckle to yourself, wondering why she’s so hooked on that predictable show.

The soft thud of your shoes on the carpet makes her turn her head, catching you just as you reach for the door. Her eyes narrow playfully, and you can feel her watching you, even from her cozy spot on the couch.

“Just to make sure—you’ve got your taser with you, right?” she asks, her motherly instincts kicking in as she gives you a careful once-over. You can see the hint of worry in her eyes, not quite ready to let her daughter head out alone.

"Yes, Mom," you say with a little giggle, rolling your eyes. You remember the day she handed you the tiny pink taser, tucked in a shiny metal case, and told you to keep it close whenever you're out alone. "You never know what could happen," she’d warned, especially since things can go wrong even when you're not alone.

“Just trying to make sure, baby,” she says softly, standing up and coming over to where you stand by the couch. Once she’s in front of you, she gently cups your face, her thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. Her gaze is soft, filled with all the love and care only a mom could have.

“Mom,” you whine, even though you secretly love her coddling. Still, you really don’t want to be late—your first date has to start off perfectly!

“Okay, okay!” she exclaims, hands raised in mock surrender, as if proving her innocence. She flashes you one last smile, and you can see the wheels turning in her head as a new idea begins to form.

“Maybe,” she starts, her voice teasing, “when you get back, you can tell me if he’s a good kisser!” she adds with a playful giggle. "I could totally grab us some ice cream, your favorite takeout, and we can talk about him all night long!" she squeals, her excitement bubbling up at the thought of the perfect evening ahead.

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "Fine! Fine, if you insist, Mom!" you say, but the mask of frustration slips away as a grin spreads across your face. The thought of a cozy night in with her fills you with excitement too.

"Great! Well, I guess I'll see you when you get back, honey," she says, walking you to the door. You spin around, and she plants a sweet kiss on your cheek in the doorframe, pausing for a moment to take one last look at you. A warm feeling of pride swells in her chest—you’d grown up so much.

You glance at the time, realizing you should’ve left three minutes ago. With a quiet, frustrated “Shit!” you dash to your car, hoping you can still make it on time.

You yank open the door and squeeze your way inside, twisting the key into the ignition. As the engine hums to life, you quickly glance at the window, checking that your look is up to par. The darkness outside makes it easier, especially with the soft glow of the dashboard lights barely illuminating the space around you.

You finally pull out of your driveway and head to the skatepark Seb instructed you to drive to. He had originally wanted to meet at his house, but then his mom and hyper cousins showed up, and he said they would "ruin the mood.”

As you drive out of the neighborhood, you turn the radio up to kill the silence hanging in the car. The moment you twist the knob, you hear your absolute favorite song playing, and it instantly slaps a smile on your face as you cruise down the road.

After enough red lights to make you want to pull your hair out, you finally arrive at the park. The moment you see it, a sketchy feeling creeps up on you. The place is empty and completely closed off from any late-night visitors. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion—what exactly is Seb planning to do at a closed-off skatepark?

You silently thank your mom for forcing you to bring the taser; it provides a small sense of security as you step out of the now-turned-off vehicle.

You glance behind you and notice two other cars parked far apart from each other, clearly indicating that the drivers don’t know each other. Upon a closer look, you recognize the car closest to you as Seb’s, meaning he’s already at the park.

You quickly send him a text, asking where he is, feeling a bit uneasy standing alone in the dark, empty parking lot.

Almost instantly, Seb sends you a text, practically commanding you to stay in the parking lot—he’ll be the one to come and get you.

"Okay," you reply to his last text. "But pleassseee hurry, I'm sooo colddd," you add, hoping he’ll pick up the pace.

"You didn't bring a jacket, doofus?" he replies, making a grin sneak onto your face.

"...No," you admit, already knowing he’d warned you that the night would be way colder than the day.

“Dumbass,” was his last message before you turned off your phone. You giggle to yourself, then start to admire the nature around you, taking in the quiet stillness of the night.

Winter nights were almost coming to an end, and the bitter temperatures were slowly fading, which made you happy. Sure, winter was amazing, but once Christmas was over, the cold started to get old.

The once bare trees were beginning to bloom in beautiful hues of red, green, and yellow. The leaves were still sparse, but their delicate colors were more than enough to make you feel much happier with the surroundings.

You're snapped out of your tranquil state by a sudden tap on your shoulder. Instinctively, you reach into your bag, your hand immediately finding the small handheld taser. Without hesitation, you point it toward the person who just brushed against your shoulder.

Only to recognize the familiar messy heaps of hair, the big eyes staring back at you, and the pale, veiny hands raised in the air to show they meant no harm.

"Oh shit, sorry Seb," you say, bashfully tossing the taser back into your bag. Your face heats with embarrassment. So much for a good start to a date.

"You just carry a fucking weapon with you at all times?" he asks, his voice cracking in shock.

"What, better safe than sorry, no?" you reply, regaining your composure.

After a moment of awkward silence, neither of you could contain the laughter bubbling up in your throats. You both immediately doubled over in laughter, the tension melting away.

After a minute or so of giggling, he looks at you with a playful grin and says, "Can't wait to tell everyone that you almost shot me on our first date." His voice is light and teasing, and his eyes twinkle with that dreamy, mischievous spark that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes and laugh, teasing him right back. "You shouldn't have run up on me like that, you scared the fuck out of me!"

He looks down and laughs some more before locking eyes with you.

"I was gonna tickle you," he says, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"I'll fucking kill you," you say, locking eyes with him. Your playful tone has vanished, replaced by a more serious look

“oh.”

After a few seconds of silence, you smile and suddenly run up to him.

"Let's go skate, hm?" you say, your voice light as you sprint toward the park, excitement bubbling up inside you.

All you hear is his ugly laughing (which you secretly find adorably cute) behind you as he follows along, the sound making your smile grow even wider.

After a few rounds of trial and error, with him patiently teaching you how to use the skateboard, you finally manage to land a few basic moves. It’s a little wobbly at first, but the thrill of getting it right feels amazing.

Under the soft glow of the streetlights, you sink into the warmth of the bench, leaning against each other as you share a cigarette. The night wraps around you like a soft blanket, the air filled with a gentle stillness.

There are no words exchanged, but the silence feels perfectly at ease, a comfortable pause that allows you to savor the quiet intimacy of the moment, just enjoying each other’s company under the stars.

You roll your eyes at him, unable to suppress a smile that breaks across your face like the dawn. There’s something infectious about his laughter, and you feel a warm flutter in your chest, the kind that comes from sharing a moment of lightness under the stars.

“Anyway, should we get up?” you ask, looking at him with a playful smile.

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, pressing the glowing cigarette bud against the ground and stepping on it with a decisive motion.

You place a foot on the skateboard, concentrating on finding your balance as you look down at your feet. Just as you start to get the hang of it, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder from in front of you. Curiosity sparks within you as you glance up, turning to see who has interrupted your moment of focus.

You widen your eyes and snap your head up for the second time that night, your heart quickening as you take in the sight of a girl who looks strikingly familiar. There’s something about her that tugs at your memory, but you can’t quite place where you’ve seen her before. She stands there with a curious smile on her face, and you find yourself searching your mind for the connection.

“Uh, yes?” you ask her, your confusion evident as you try to place her in your memory.

“I think you’re the girl I called pretty at the game we had last week,” she says, her smile widening as she speaks.

You begin to recall the girl who had called you pretty in the locker room after your last game, and the memory stirs something warm inside you.

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s me,” you say, your voice warm with recognition. “Uh, what do you need?” you ask, trying to sound polite while your mind races with curiosity about why she’s here now.

“Well, my boyfriend, my friend, and her boyfriend are all here tonight, so we were wondering if you’d want to come with us?” she replies, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

By now, Sebastian is standing next to you, listening intently as she speaks.

You glance over at him, about to reply. “Uh, sur—”

“No thanks, we’re about to leave anyway,” he interjects, cutting you off with a firm but gentle tone. He then grabs your hand, clutching the skateboard with his other, and begins to pull you both away from the moment, leaving the invitation behind as you step into the night together.

When you reach the parking lot, you turn to Sebastian, curiosity bubbling up inside you. “Why didn’t you want to hang out with them?”

He looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I just wanted it to be the two of us. I felt like they would have ruined the whole date,” he explains, and you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words.

“Okay,” you say, trying to hide your smile. “Well, there’s the diner we usually stop by at. Wanna go?” you ask, hopeful for more time just the two of you.

#oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yanderes #x reader #yandere oc #poly yandere

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schoolhater · 3 days ago

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it is election day. i wrote a little essay to share with my IRLs who can't fathom why i might want to abstain from participating in the bloodshed by putting holocaust harris in power, or giving the transpbobic and anti-abortion green party federal campaign money. i've reposted the entire thing under the cut for anyone who wants to read.

but before i begin: donate to mohammed al-habil. he is recovering from surgery, his little sister is chronically ill. the genocide ruined his senior year of high school. it’s his birthday today. he should be celebrating and instead he’s begging on an internet full of people trying to justify the continued destruction of his entire people.

learn more + donate

i keep hearing from people defending their choice to vote for the genocider that even though the democrats are bad, the republicans are worse. or that this election is the most important one. i often see trolley problems that declare that the *only* people who would suffer under the democrats would be palestine, and, because *americans* would suffer under the republicans, we have to put aside our grievances about the potentially-three-hundred-thousand-and-thiry-five people who have been murdered in the past thirteen months and offer our full support to the person who did it.

nearly every time settler colonialism has occurred in history, the first wave of settlers is some vulnerable yet radicalized population who believes they will achieve prosperity in the new world. the uae-backed rsf is establishing settlements using refugees from other african countries in southeast sudan right now. the first wave of israeli settlers were poor. even herzl planned this in the 1890s, in 'the jewish state' he writes that the first wave of settlers should be poor farm workers. and now, the modern settlers in the illegally occupied west bank live in and they are the most radicalized most. despite facing extreme racism within israel, arab israeli settlers are among the most radical zionists. the first settlers in america were poor and tired religious extremists from britain. when they came here they didn't have shit except the military backing of the empire and the carte blanche to commit massacres of indigenous people.

imperialism needs these vulnerable people. it needs to funnel the oppressed populations it creates back into the machine to enact further violence. these people are effective cannon fodder against the indigenous population. they are vulnerable enough that they cannot resist, but their lives are comfortable enough thanks to subsidized housing and special treatment that they begin to identify wholly with the imperialist entity, so they don't even want to. if you're stuck thinking 'well, of course kamala and trump are the same to palestine, but trump will be worse for us!' you've taken the bait. that's exactly the kind of attitude that is allowing this genocide to happen right now. do you know why the usa gives subsidized healthcare to israelis? why we give so many benefits to veterans? why do thousands of people risk their entire lives to come here after we destroy their countries? the usa wants to recruit you into participating in the genocide of gaza so you never oppose it, because it would mean opposing yourself.

even kamala harris knows this. multiple times she's repeated some version of "sure people care about the genocide, but they also care about the price of eggs" as if these things are remotely comparable. because to her supporters, they are. to americans, the rest of the world does not even exist.

i said this on my instagram story and i'll say it again - we understand that the israeli elections are just a performance of democracy to pacify criticism of a violent genocidal apartheid system. none of us would really care if netanyahu stepped down tomorrow because we would see the bombings continue. well, america is the world's "israel"! to the rest of the world, america is that attack dog that only ever brings death and suffering. and regardless of which party is in charge, that doesn't change. and the democrats arent even hiding it anymore.

what the discourse around this election and seeing so many people i once respected voting for the genocide has taught me is that there is no red line for the majority of americans. we are the most self centered, narrow minded, backstabbing group of settlers on this earth. we have seen the terrorist organization that occupies the land we live on fund 70% of the most vile horrific crimes against humanity - the most nightmare inducing rapes, tortures, kidnappings, incarcerations, concentration camps, people being burned alive, people being ripped apart, rendered unrecognizable as human bodies, literally vaporized, killing over three hundred thousand people over thirteen months - and we still want the entities that did all this to exist tomorrow. we want to invest into a future in which all of this still exists.

and when asked to stop, we will threaten to do worse. a greater evil is imagined.

what does this make us?

....

i refuse to participate in this bullshit even to support a third party candidate. i refuse to be bought. i refuse to invest my time and energy into an institution that kills children. i don’t care who runs it.

i wanted to push back against this idea before the polls close as a sort of last ditch effort to be heard. i am not being heard right now. i have gotten into way too many arguments with people i once respected over why voting in favor of a genocide might not be the best idea. and every time i am met with utter disrespect - i am not treated as a person with a political perspective based on my experiences and learning, i am treated like an idiot. and the people voting for genocide are pragmatists, somehow. in lieu of a reason to disagree with me they resort to belittlement. i feel betrayed. i hope this rant changes some minds; if not, let it explain why i treat you differently now.

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lynnsenpai · 2 days ago

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MIS ch.6, p.172 - Lights On

You can also find this page (and all the ones before it) on these sites: Comic Fury Tapas DeviantArt Now that we've checked up on (almost) everyone, let's really get the ball rolling here. The next several pages will be sticking with this crew, and it will run for a few weeks.

So we open the scene with Theo, Eiji, and Belial, now on Oleander Street where they've been told they can find the thieves. Theo is frustrated because searching for the thieves isn't quick and easy. Eiji is frustrated because he wanted to handle this alone. And Belial seems a bit more than frustrated, if we're being honest.

Everyone's a little tense (relatable). It's been a long day (very relatable). Hopefully, these kids won't get overly emotional and say or do things they know they shouldn't. ***

Also, just so you all know: I'm not going anywhere. Shit's scary right now for us in the US, and there's a lot of despairing going around. I definitely don't blame anyone. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I feel it too. That said, as miserable as I am today, it's all the more reason to keep at it. It is my job to write comics about found families, self-acceptance, recovery from trauma, and hope in dark times. And maybe it's obvious, but I think people are going to continue to need stories like this for a while yet.

My plan after this is posted is to take the day to myself. Eat some comfort food. Play some Metaphor:ReFantazio. Open some virtual Pokemon card packs. Do some light reading. And stay offline as much as humanly possible. Just… do everything in my power to ease up a little. And then it's back to work. I hope you'll be there to read what comes next.

I love you all, so please, take care of yourselves. No matter how hopeless it feels, don't give up. We need to all be in this together.

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holylulusworld · 2 days ago

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SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first

Self-help group for killers masterlist

“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.

He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.

“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”

He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.

The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.

For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.

He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.

“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”

“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”

“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got earlier than everyone expected.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”

“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”

Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.

The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.

“You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”

Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.

If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.

Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.

The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.

God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.

The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...

Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.

“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”

“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”

Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?

The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”

“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Baber got a point there.”

“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”

“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”

“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”

Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”

Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”

“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”

Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”

“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”

“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”

“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.

“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”

“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”

The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.

“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”

“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”

“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”

“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.

“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”

“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”

“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”

“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”

“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”

Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.

“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”

“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.

“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”

“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”

“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #god the bounty hunter #robert pronge #andy barber #steve kemp #SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

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izaacs-notdeadyet · 2 days ago

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Zombie Apocalypse au!!

I really need to come up with a better name cause "zombie apocalypse au" just seems bland and "tlou outsiders au" is just too long 😔😔 def drop some ideas if you have any.

Anyway!1!1 dally design drop!!

Gon be real, I did not have fun drawing this and I think it shows in the art but fuck it!! We ball. This is like maybe my second time drawing dally and I can't get him down well for the life of me. Kinda going threw art block I think but we stay on the grind 🗣️🗣️🗣️

While he wasn't fun to draw, he was definitely fun to think up his story in this au. I think I'm gonna be a bit selective with what all I say abt the gang from now on, cause I'm really considering turning this into a fic (would y'all read about this?)

Anyway!1!1 time to yap

Dally didn't grow up in New York

But he grew up in a gang with a lot of survivors from New york

The gang "leader" was pretty tough on Dally, he was the only kid and no one really liked his being there much

He was only there cause his dad had somehow managed to talk the group into letting him join when Dally was younger

On the topic of Dally's dad,

He wasn't a bad guy, but dally and him never got along much

He never hit dally though, only one time

Dally snuck away to go exploring in the city

And ended up pissing off the leader of their group real bad

He made Dally's dad hit him, kinda in a moment like Sarah's dad hitting her in the walking dead video game (take this as loosely similar, cause I've never played nor watched the walking dead)

It was then Dally decided to leave and take off on his own at only 12.

He wasn't going to let anyone hit him like that again or hold that kind of power over him

He wandered around America and maybe even Canada for awhile

I like to think he used to have a horse, one that either died or got stolen, but he loved it a lot while he had it

He found the gang on their trek through Oklahoma.

By "found" I mean found their camp and tried to steal from them, not realizing they were right outside

When it went wrong he ended up holding Two-bit (who had been sick at the time) at knifepoint, trying to get them to give up their shit

Darry ended up talking him down, convincing him to just sit and talk (made harder by Steve and Pony agreeing on something for once in their life, and it being on killing Dally)

Dally ended up staying at their camp for the night, planning to leave in the morning, but Two-bit found him at the campfire later that night

They had a talk, Two-bit didn't blame him or dislike him for what he'd done, he was the first one to forgive and really be okay with Dally's presence.

Come the next day, and Two-bit was up before anyone else regardless of how sick he was, standing up for Dally and saying Darry should let him stay.

It took a bit of convincing, but Dally was allowed to stay, and he just kinda ran with them since

#the outsiders #the outsiders movie #the outsiders novel #the outsiders zombie au #dallas winston #dally winston #darry curtis #darrel curtis #Two-bit Matthews #two bit mathews #steve randle #ponyboy curtis #Izaacs art

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pixitarot · 1 day ago

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bang chan as a bf

🅽🅾🆃🅴: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛ��ʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ

i didn’t expect some of the cards i got tbh. please take this with a grain of salt lol.

pros:

- a hopeless romantic. i think i mentioned this already in my ideal type reading but he is big on just being with that one person for the rest of his life.

- a desire to make all of his person’s wishes come true. yall know that song by big time rush “any kind of guy” i was hearing that in my head lol specifically the lyrics “any kind of guy you want girl, that’s the guy i’ll be, turn myself upside down.” corny ik, but i think he would say cheesy shit like that lol. i literally have not heard that song in a minute. basically he would do anything that his person desires. they want a dog? he’ll get one. they want to take a dance class? he’ll sign them up for one. those are just some examples

- he lovesss to spoil his partner. i honestly think gift giving could be a big love language for him. it makes him feel good seeing his partner enjoy things that he has bought them or things they have bought with his money

- he would defend his partner no matter what. he does not fuck around when it comes to the people he loves, so if someone disrespects his person, he won’t stay quiet

- he’s always keeping his promises! even with his busy schedule, he will make time for his person . i think he could even have this routine where they like go watch a movie every saturday or smth. reminds me of when he would go live every sunday lol. if he wouldn’t be make able to make it, he’ll schedule it for the next day. he will always do something to make up for it

- he’ll always keep the relationship feeling new. yk how the honeymoon phase wears off, he’ll do everything to make things more fun and romantic. he could plan so many cute dates. he would always know the right things to say. he could literally give u butterflies even 5 years of dating him just because of his smooth talk lol

cons:

- chan could be….pretty dominant. now this obviously doesn’t mean he’s gonna go crazy controlling his person. however, he’s a natural leader. he leads in his career, and it melts into his relationships as well. he likes to be the one to make the decisions. he could be stubborn in his ways so he won’t back down. it’s his way or the highway vibes

- chan can be hot headed. it seems like he would try really hard not to fight with his person, but it just never works out. he could be pretty passive aggressive when he gets mad. i’m not gonna lie i feel like he could bicker a lot with his partner.

- remember how i said he loves to spoil his partner? well he could use this to his advantage as well. chan could do/say something to upset them and he’ll spoil them as an “apology.” ik some of yall would find this a pro lol but this can cause resentment overtime. maybe he isn’t good at apologizing, but with communication from both sides, this can change.

- i think chan can be super overprotective. i could say possessive aswell, but im more so getting overprotective. it’s like he has this fear that something could happen to his partner, and this can scare him. it could be something he overthinks about a lot in relationships. it’s almost paternal like. like a father worrying about his daughter. of course, many could see this as a pro, however, it could get to the point where it becomes suffocating because it’s like…are you my father or my boyfriend? i’m seeing him lightly scold his partner for being out late lol. it’s stuff like that.

astrological dice:

leo, cancer, 6th house, 3rd house

romantic and fun, and confirmation on the routine thing with the 6th house. communication is something he’ll need to work on. he could be nurturing to his partner with the cancer. i think he likes to be the one his partner goes to if they’re sad.

i want to emphasize that the cons could easily be changed overtime. if he had a partner that sits down and talks to him about their boundaries, chan would 100% listen and would stop doing whatever makes his person uncomfortable. i honestly don’t think chan is too experienced when it comes to relationships…so it is also a learning experience for him.

#bang chan #chan #stray kids #skz #tarot #stray kids tarot #bang chan tarot #kpop

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calm-with-anxiety · 2 days ago

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If I see or hear people defending their votes for Trump with “well I didn’t really know her policies and plans for her presidency” I will burst into flames. We live in a time where almost every piece of information is in your hand, you could’ve Googled her plans, it was on her fucking website for weeks, it was 80 pages of policy and how they planned to pay for it. Like you chose to be an uneducated voter that got information from commercials and short form video.

The economy line is bullshit because his plans will make everything more expensive, tariffs are payed for by you, you think the multibillion dollar company will take on the extra cost to buy and ship goods by lowering the CEO salary, no, they will make the item more expensive because they never promised you a $200 tv, but they did promise stockholders a dividend of $10/share. His mass deportation policy will cause the economy to collapse because immigrants, legal or illegal, do the jobs that others look down on. You never see a line of white guys in overalls hoping to be hired for below minimum wage to pick fruit for hours in the sun, you don’t see young white men showing up to construction jobs that the builder has subcontracted so it’s cheaper to build. The bedrock of the U.S. economy is cheap labor and a majority of that is immigrants who are looking for jobs that don’t require knowing perfect English and have employers that look the other way when you don’t have documents because they know you will work for anything.

Don’t even get me started on healthcare, outside of women’s healthcare which will get worse, if he finally gets rid of the affordable care act, aka Obamacare, they will replace it with nothing. The man was president before and after John McCain put his thumb down they never tried to make a new policy that wasn’t throwing the whole program into the trash. Also the affordable care act is more than just low cost healthcare, it put in place pre-existing conditions, for those too young to remember, the insurance companies could deny you coverage all because you might get cancer one day because your mother had it, you would have to pay out of pocket for an inhaler because asthma was a pre-existing condition, even if you were diagnosed with it later in life. Don’t forget what the vaccine situation will be, especially if he puts RFK jr. anywhere near it, like there is actual fear that Polio will come back because guess what? Most people under the age of 40 are not vaccinated for it because it was considered eradicated due to the mass vaccination of children in the 50s and 60s. When you complain about feeling like shit after getting the flu shot or a Covid booster, that is the vaccine working in your body, your body is doing an internal workout so if and when you come in contact with those viruses you won’t be getting extremely sick or die because someone doesn’t know how to cover their cough.

I think this election was proof that you can have all the information and still know nothing because you chose to know nothing. People vote with their eyes, not their mind. Gas where I live has been under $3.00 for months, it’s been under $2.50 at the warehouse stores for weeks, but because an ad on tv said prices are rising people believed the tv over their own experience. People saw grocery prices increase and blamed the administration when in reality corporations took advantage of Covid shortages, raised prices, recorded historic profits, and didn’t start bring prices down until this summer after people realized what was happening to some extent and even then they didn’t return to pre-2020 prices because the profit still needed to be high, they looked at the $2 increase in a bag of chips over 4 years and blamed democrats and not Lays.

This is going to be a painful 4 years, for many people here and abroad, Ukraine will have to depend on Europe which is starting to lean conservative as well and the war in Gaza will take an extreme shift that will make the last year look like a paper cut in terms of humanitarian assistance and a possible end. It’s already getting on my nerves as people tweet “we keep fighting” and “we need to be strong so they can’t do all they plan to do like the first time”, it’s not going to be like the first time, the adults in the room he had with him, many who came out and supported Harris, are gone and now it will be yes men that he was told to put there by the extreme right like the supporters of project 2025 and billionaires. And for those saying “well maybe he will die in office”, you think JD Vance is better? He allegedly picked him because DT jr. suggested him and if you have ever seen jr. and his takes you would know Vance can be worse.

This is gonna hurt for many people that will now be seen as lower than second class citizens and you won’t even have lower prices to show for it as that seemed to be the reason you voted for him, enjoy your expensive goods as people lost rights.

#election 2024 #us politics

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introvertedandscared · 1 day ago

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i was recently given a writing prompt simply titled 'blue' on an online forum i use, and wanted to try my hand at doing something for it.

i'm actually really proud of it- i dont know if its my best work, it always feels that way after i make something new, but it was really therapeutic to write and hey, practice makes perfect. ill never be any good if i dont work towards it.

this piece is an expression of my gender and identity, told through a narrative perspective. most of these events are either heavily fictionalised or not actual events in my life, and i'm unsure if the main character is actually me or not, but it is heavily related to my personal thoughts, feelings, and history.

its about 959 words, a short read, enjoy! and keep an eye out for more writing on this blog if you liked this ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Blue

My favourite shirt is blue. Not a bright, attention-catching blue, but a soft one. Like blue hydrangeas. That’s not why it’s my favourite—I don’t even like the colour blue all that much—but it’s what everyone notices about it. When my mother comes into my room and asks for the laundry, she’ll point out ‘the blue one that you wear all the time’. When my friends and I are coordinating our Halloween plans, they ask to borrow my blue shirt for their costume. My brother will tell me that my blue shirt has somehow ended up in his closet. I’ve come to think of it more as a title than anything else. My Blue Shirt. All words capitalised, because they are important.

The reason it’s my favourite shirt is because it’s mine. I bought it with my own money—I had a whole 15 bucks I’d earned from babysitting—at the small thrift store on the corner after school on a Tuesday. It had been the first thing I’d picked up off the rack, not even checking the price or size. I had a curfew, and I knew that if I didn’t buy something that afternoon, I never would. I was 12, and the shirt I grabbed was 3 sizes too large, but I didn't care. I wanted it.

I still remember the woman behind the counter that day. She was probably middle-aged. At the time, I was transfixed by strands of her greying hair. She seemed radiant and wise. Untouchable. She was beautiful.

When I laid the shirt out in front of her, she looked directly at me for the first time since I’d entered the store, an amused expression playing across her face.

“You know this is for a man, right?” She asked, taking in my short stature, my girlish pigtails and sport shorts. My t-shirt that had recently started clinging to all the wrong places on me. I hated my clothes; my mother bought them all. She asked me for my opinion, sometimes, but I was only ever given the option to choose between the lesser of two evils. This shirt or that one. Those skirts or these jeans. Lately, I’d just let her take over completely, letting my eyes wander through the aisles while she shopped. No matter what store we were in, my gaze would always land on the men's section. I always let it linger for a second too long.

“It’s… for my brother. Last minute costume change for his, um, dance team. He needs something blue,” I mumbled through my excuse, terrified the woman would question me more, but she’d already started ringing my purchase up. The bubble of hope that had been growing in my chest ever since I’d ridden my bike out of the school gates that afternoon finally burst, into something bright and fiery and right. Something completely new.

Later, at home, I tried the shirt on in front of my mirror. It reached down to my knees and looked utterly ridiculous, but it also didn’t hug my torso and hips trying to accentuate not yet existent curves. It made my body little more than a formless mass of cloth.

Five minutes after I put it on, my brother walked by my bedroom door. He took one look at me and laughed, and I laughed with him. He said I looked ‘stupid as shit’—words I still found scandalous at that time—and I’d agreed, but once he left I couldn’t bring myself to reach my own eyes in my reflection. I was scared of what I’d see.

It’s been four years, and I still have that shirt. I’m wearing it now, bent low over the bathroom sink, scissors clutched tightly in my left hand, watching my hair swirl down the drain. I feel bile rising up in my throat at the sight, but it’s not from… disgust or panic. It’s- fear. I am scared to see myself. I am scared to know, because once I do there is no going back. It may not seem like it, but I am not one to dwell on the past. I live in the now. The now where I have just sheared away all of my hair at 3 AM, in the house my great-grandparents built with their own two hands. I wonder if they would be disappointed in me.

I don’t know if my mother will be mad—it’s hard to tell with her—maybe she’ll scold me, or laugh and schedule an appointment to get the mess I’ve made fixed, or maybe she’ll reach out, eyes soft. Maybe she’ll finally see me.

But I need to see myself first. I have been blind for far too long.

I steel myself—taking a sharp, shuddering inhale of air—and look up into the face of the mirror before me. I look up, and it feels like the final piece slots into place. The final piece of a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve for four years. For my whole life.

The face staring back at me is no longer a reflection but a reality; the burning feeling in the centre of me flaring to life, consuming everything I thought I was.

I press a gentle hand to my chest, pressing down the two masses of fat and connective tissue that have always seemed to burden me more than my peers. I let the folds of blue obscure them until it almost looks as though they are not there. I wish more than anything that they weren’t.

I take myself in, gaze reverent and disbelieving.

My blue shirt is my favourite shirt, because unlike all my others, it fits perfectly. Ever since I first bought it, it has fit perfectly.

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screams-in-writing · 2 days ago

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*launches Mr. Puzzles into the air then choke slams him into the ground*

One shot below, if you just want to read it here. Be advised, it’s near 10k now:

Summary:

A tattered, beaten-up Mr. Puzzles plush comes into your possession; it makes you wonder when you’ll get to see the real one again.

Tags from ao3:

- The day started off normally enough.

There was the usual struggle upon waking to blink the bleariness out of your eyes.

Finding clothing in the dark made extra difficult because you forgot that there’s a light switch in your room. Or, you know, actual sunlight, if you’d thought to open up the curtains.

Rummaging around the kitchen for breakfast while continuing to struggle to wake and see through continued blurry eyes.

Taking so long with breakfast and finding clothing beforehand making you end up jogging to work with said breakfast down the sidewalk. The later unfortunate recollection that you’d left your lunch at home.

A typical day, really.

But what wasn’t typical was being stopped by a coworker at the end of your shift to be given the saddest, most beaten-up pathetic excuse of a plush.

A coworker called out your name, causing you to turn back to see what was up.

”Here you go.” Your coworker said without preamble, thrusting a plushie out for you to presumably take.

It was one of those long-limbed Mr. Puzzles plush.

“I found this in the dumpster behind the cafe while taking out the trash.” Your coworker was staring somewhere near your shoulder as she continued to speak in a hushed tone. “I felt like I was being watched, but no one was there. Still, I didn’t want to tempt fate, so I took the plush out, left the garbage bag, and decided I’d give the plush to you.” With a quick moment of eye contact, then away, she added. “Mr. Puzzles liked you, right? So he probably wouldn’t take it as badly if he saw a plush of himself in such a terrible state if you had it. Instead of someone he thought might have vandalized the plush on purpose.”

Mr. Puzzles sure did seem to take offense to his likeness being destroyed or otherwise ridiculed.

“He hasn’t been to the cafe in years.” Your coworker said bluntly. She then paused, blinked, then awkwardly looked down when she caught a glimpse of the saddened expression on your face. “Sorry. I forgot he hasn’t visited and you...” Another pause. “I mean, I’m sure he’ll turn up again; everyone on the cafe and your podcast friends miss him too.” Another awkward pause as her own expression twisted into discomfort. “Sorry. We know you took him being gone out of the blue the hardest.” Off to the side. “Dammit, I’m shit at this.”

You accept the plush from your coworker as she abruptly thrusts it closer. Then, you watch your coworker randomly walk back into the cafe, but you don’t take it personally.

She tended to have trouble looking people in the eyes and spoke bluntly what she felt in the moment, but you always appreciated the honesty.

Turning your attention to the plush in your hands with its ridiculous long limbs, you find that you do actually feel bad for this plush version of Mr. Puzzles.

Your coworker had been correct; the real Mr. Puzzles hadn’t been around for some time. Years, in fact, since you haven’t even gotten to speak to him.

It wasn’t his fault or yours that the portal between your worlds had been destroyed.

You hoped the smg’s would be willing to make another one, but there was no way for you to communicate with them, so all you could do was wait, and hope.

…you missed Mr. Puzzles a lot.

Smg4 and his friends too, but not as much as the tv headed man who’d begun to mean so much to you.

Stubbornly swiping a sleeve over your face, you head back home with the poor plush, planning to clean it free of any dirt. But you did have an aversion to putting it in the washing machine, or even in a laundry tub to do by hand, unless you didn’t submerge the plush’s head.

This was because you remembered Mr. Puzzles couldn’t have his metal tv head submerged underwater.

You knew this was a plush that you held, and that getting it wet wouldn’t do anything, but you couldn’t help but fall back into memories the longer you stared at the tattered Puzzles plush. You think you may even have another plush like this (one of many the man sneakily smuggled over to your world, and into this town, some of the people delighted by the silliness of his long-limbed plush).

As you got to cleaning, you take in more details of the incredibly poor condition of the plush.

Its left arm was missing from the elbow down, some wires poking out of the cotton inside. Incredible attention to detail, you thought, compared to the other plushies of the same type. You turned the plush over and back to scrutinize the chest area.

Why did the tarted fabric show material beneath that looked like the color of the grayish skin Mr. Puzzles had?

It was kind of in poor taste, considering whoever had this plush decided to slash the plush’s chest and torso with what appeared to be a knife.

It unnerved you to see what looked like traces of dried blood on the areas of the ‘wounds’ with cotton poking out of the cuts too.

You hoped it was just ketchup.

…there was a lot of cotton poking out of the poor plushie.

The color came off with some extra scrubbing, and once you deemed the Mr. Puzzles plush clean, you decided that you couldn’t leave the body torn open like that.

It just so happened that you had thread that matched the plush’s oddly Puzzles’ skin tone colored body, and set about sewing. You were careful to not leave much of the stitching visible, using the ladder stitch you’d learned to use some time ago.

Once that was complete, you finally allowed yourself to focus on the worst of the damage apart from half a missing arm.

The face of the plush.

Usually, it had a mad grin on it along with the eyes that Mr. Puzzles tended to get when he was visibly agitated or feeling a particularly strong emotion. Aka when he was trying to tamp those emotions down instead of flying into a rage.

This plushies ‘screen’?

Completely gone.

The plastic was missing.

The face itself was cut beneath the eyes, and it looked like someone had peeled the top half of the screen face up and off to the side, cotton practically bursting out from the seams no longer there. Beneath, the was a long cut that tore deeply across the technicolor smile.

You used some spare fabric to wrap around the upper half of the plush’s head to prevent the stuffing from coming out further (why you did that, you weren’t sure, but it felt right to do in the moment.

Tomorrow, you’d sew up the mouth, so it didn’t tug at with side of the plush’s head.

It was going to take a lot to fix the poor thing, but you decided to do just that.

As you set the Puzzles plush up on the fireplace mantle and propped it up against a box you put behind it, you kind of just…stared at it for a moment.

Just seeing its condition made you sad.

You inwardly agreed with your coworker from earlier.

The real Mr. Puzzles wouldn’t appreciate the sight of a plush in his image so shabby and beaten to.

…you missed him.

So, so much.

It had been so long since you’d last seen Mr. Puzzles.

Giving your head a little shake, to not fall down those spiraling thoughts, you decided to let the plush dry overnight. Then, you could see what you could do to piece the rest of it back together.

Seeing the poor state the plush was still on, you wanted to do your best. It was unnerving that it looked like someone had been torturing Mr. Puzzles via the plush.

I was unable to move.

It was dark.

A darkness stretching out before me with no light in sight.

I couldn’t see; there was only a darkness that stretched out before me.

A murkiness, with any speck of light denied to me.

I was alone, suspended in this dark isolation that seemed unending.

Not even my own mind was like this, even if I was alone, because I at least had the light of the numerous televisions all around me.

Here?

I had nothing.

It had been a long time since I’d seen anyone.

Heard anyone.

So long since I’d last held you in my arms that I almost feel as if I’d forgotten the sensation, with how trapped I currently was.

The fear and terror paralyzed me as surely as my currently useless body outside of this darkness was.

There was no way for me to even know how long I’d been in this state.

It was a shame that whenever I was released from this terrifying prison that I wouldn’t even be able to put it to use in a show.

I couldn’t even say why I thought that, but I presumed it had to do with how I ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Now, would this be considered horror, or a thriller, I wondered.

It wasn’t like I was being haunted by some ghost or being hunted by a creature.

Something had caused me to become like this.

Suspense, I guess.

Fear of the unknown when there was a sense of something not quite right, only to be unaware until it was too late.

It certainly felt more horror-esque, considering I was aware and yet unaware to do anything about my current situation.

Hm.

I might be able to make something after all.

A freezing chill flowed over me.

Or not.

This was quite unpleasant, and if I could have screamed, I would have done so, regardless of the possible ridicule that may have come from Smg4 or the others, should they happen to be anywhere nearby.

The cold slowly dissipated.

I felt a little better, for some reason I couldn’t place.

Warmer.

Almost safer.

Then it was gone.

As I settled into a listless state of unfeeling immobility. there was only one thing on my mind, apart from escaping this place.

I hoped you would forgive me for being away from you for what seemed like such a very long time.

Today was your day off, which had now become ‘fix the Mr. Puzzles plush’ day.

You gathered the materials that you thought you might need, including another Puzzles plush to replace what the damaged one was missing.

It seemed a shame to ruin a perfectly good plushie, but for whatever reason, you wanted to fix the Puzzles plush you’d placed to dry overnight on the fireplace mantle.

Maybe it was because your coworker had found it in the dumpster, indicating that someone had decided the plushie wasn’t worth keeping and had thrown it away? The thought didn’t sit well with you, perhaps considering how isolated you’d leaned Mr. Puzzles had been once you’d gotten to know him better. The way the man worried for the longest time he’d be rejected by you, even though you, too, were concerned about the same in return.

The whole ‘this other person couldn’t possibly want me, could they?’

How wrong the both of you had been in that regard.

A pant of sadness, as you went about getting the supplies spread out while reaching for the plush to lie in on the kitchen table, musing where to begin with the poor plush.

The fabric wrapped around the head was hiding the worst of the damage, so you decided to start there.

First, you carefully used as similar colored thread you could find to sew the damage across the technicolor smile.

Next, you unwrapped the fabric around the upper half of the plush’s head to begin to push the cotton back inside, and, using gray thread, began to sew the edges of the television screen between the fabric peeled away that held the eyes and the teeth. Then, folding the fabric with the eyes on it back down, you slowly began to sew that back together, until the face of the plush was restored.

It wasn’t perfect, but no one would be able to tell that the face had all but been torn open with cotton spilling out.

Carefully, you took the plastic screen part off of the other Puzzles plush, and arduously began to attach it to the initially damaged Mr. Puzzles long limbed plushie.

With the face of the plush restored, the screen you’d just put over it a near perfect way, you realized that the previous damage to the face was more difficult to see through the somewhat reflective surface.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Smiling at the plush, you look over its ‘clothes’ and the half missing arm. “It’ll be even better when I finish fixing you up a bit more.” Your smile fell as you stared a the plush you’d picked up, holding it under its arms. “I hope I’ll be able to see the real Mr. Puzzles in person sooner rather than later.” Your voice became a hushed whisper as you hugged the plush to you. “I miss him so much. There’s so much I’d like to say to him.”

You prop the plushie up on the table against a box of sewing supplies, and grasped its right hand.

The plush hand was oddly limp.

“But maybe I can just talk to you, silly as that is.” You flopped the small plush hand in your hand in a wave. “That way, when I do see him again, it will be easier for me to say some things to him. What do you say?”

Naturally, the plush Mr. Puzzles said nothing.

There was a jarring of this cold, lifeless place.

It felt like I was on fire, but wherever I was couldn’t possibly be a real fire. I felt I would have somehow been able to know, but then again, how could I know that?

I knew nothing but the darkness and the silence, wherever I was.

All at once, I regained my sense of feeling in my body, but with that came a variety of horrors that hit me one by one.

I couldn’t rightly parse through all of these sensations and the creeping fear while I continued to immobile and therefore, completely helpless. This was only slightly made better by the fact that the darkness was slowly leaving my vision, allowing me my sight once more. But what I saw, I could almost not comprehend, and while my sight may have been restored, I found myself unable to speak, no matter what I did.

My body hurt with a deep, painful ache, but that was something I could handle because a massive relief washed over me upon seeing you.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

Somehow, someway, you’d found me, but there was no chance that you had any idea what you’d found.

As you spoke to me, I yearned to reach out to you. I wanted to wipe away your tears while you talked to me. I so desperately wanted to hold you in my arms, but I wasn’t able to as was now.

Trapped.

I was trapped and unable to do anything about it.

Only watch, as you spoke your hopes and sorrows to me about us reuniting, while you continued to sew up the tears within this body.

When I was back to normal, I was not going to trouble you with just how painful each stitch was, nor how much I wanted to scream and writhe in agony as you sewed the forearm and hand you’d taken from the other plush and attached it to mine.

I had no idea how that would translate when I was restored back to my usual handsome self with my beautiful metal head.

I wouldn’t hold it against you, however, since you had no idea what it was um you held in your hands as anything other than a plushie.

That was a worry for when there was a plan to help me change back, and for that, I needed to get you to realize it was me.

To figure out how to have you understand what you held in your hands; that it wasn’t just any old Mr. Puzzles plush.

It was me.

The real Mr. Puzzles.

And the longer you spoke to me while putting the finishing touches to the plush’s (my) body, I realized that you had no idea that I wasn’t in my home world.

I was here with you, in your’s.

But for how long?

Was I in danger, or did being in my current state mean that I would be fine?

While you made little fixes to my (stupid) plush body’s clothing, I was rather flattered that you’d decided to put together a little ensemble different than the usual long-limbed plush’s of the me’s I’d brought here to your world.

In fact.…the outfit was beginning to look like my suit tailcoat I’d worn to a party with you, complete with little puzzle-pieces and stars adorning it that you’d likely found at a local craft store.

I loved the care you put into it, even if you thought I was merely a lifeless plushie.

In a way, I was, unable to speak or move.

As the day progressed, you eventually were satisfied with my restoration, and set me back up on the mantle of the fireplace.

I desperately attempted to get your attention, and the only way to do this was to play with the trick of light on the ‘screen’ of the plush. I figured out that I could subtly change the expressions beneath the plastic

So many times, I almost caught your attention, but whenever you turned to look at me, you obviously saw nothing out of the ordinary.

I wanted to screen in both frustration and despair.

This wasn’t fair.

We were together again, yet I couldn’t speak, was unable to move.

Useless.

This plush body was useless!

Please.

Just let me get your attention, for one moment.

Please see me.

Even if you yourself couldn’t fix this situation I found myself in, at least you would have been able to know it was me.

I couldn’t stand this; the watching and the waiting.

The only time your hands were on me was when my stupid body ended up sliding one way or another on the mantle of the fireplace.

When it happened for the third time, not of my own volition, I was certain you’d have grown weary of it, and put me somewhere out not sight.

Instead, you picked me up, and brought me to your bedroom for the night to hug me.

I dearly wanted to embrace you in return, but all I could do in this state was just lie there, useless, as you used my plush body to comfort yourself by holding it close to your chest. At the very least, it was nice to be good for something, despite being unable to speak to you. I couldn’t even to let you know that I was there with you.

It was infuriating, if enlightening, to be motionless, hearing both your heartbeat and your voice as you spoke to me.

Had I been able, my screen would have been lit up bright with a heartbeat covered blush and averted eyes.

It took longer than I would have liked for there to finally be an opportunity to get you to see that I was right there next to you until finally, I had one.

It was just unfortunate that the way I was able to let you know who I was ended up being distressing for both of us.

To think that my plush body could take actual damage that caused it to bleed made me wonder if I’d taken more damage right before and after I’d he’d been in that darkness from before.

I couldn’t recall how I even ended up this way, and now all I could think of was the very real deep aching pain from my neck.

You could not believe that there was just a random dog who just so happened to be near your home’s front porch that snuck the Puzzles plush away from you to use as a chew toy.

And just a week after you’d finished restoring it!

There were so many branches in the yard, so why couldn’t the pooch have gone after those?

You chased the dog around to your backyard, the silly thing thinking it was a great game while it shook its head now and again, which furiously shook the Puzzles plush as well. The play bows the dog gave you when you got close were cute, as wee the snorts of breath from past the dog’s muzzle closed over the plushie. And when you got too close, the dog danced out of range to solidify its actions with the ‘play’ part.

It took some time trying to catch the dog before it could dart away, and when you finally got a hold of the plush, you got the weird sensation again that you needed to be careful. You almost immediately let go, however, when the dog thought you were changing the game to tug of war.

But this got the dog to follow you around, and even waited outside on your front porch as you dashed in and back out with a treat in a last ditch attempt to get the animal to galley go.

You weren’t so sure why you were so frantic to get the Puzzles plush away from the dog, but here you were.

“Here boy.” You paused, tilting your head at the dog. “Or girl. C’mere good doggy. Look what I got for you.” You held up a dog bone and waved it; you’d grabbed from inside the house to bribe the dog to let go. One of your roommates’ friends had given some dog bones to all three of you, as a joke, since that friend knew none of you had a pet dog. But hey, it was working out to have those on hand now.

The dog’s ears perked up upon seeing the treat. With a big, wagging tail, the dog dropped the Mr. Puzzles plushie near your feet and sat, intent on the dog bone.

”Good job.” You praises the dog, waving the treat, then tossing it off the porch. With a furiously wagging tail and happy barks, the dog picked up the treat and darted off.

Distantly, there was someone yelling for the dog over the pet having the gall had to somehow jump the fence to run away.

Sighing and shaking your head, you stoop and pick the plush up. You look the plush over after feeling it damp in some places from the dog’s mouth. Your grip shifted and became more firm on the plush when you noted, in alarm, that it was not only saliva making the plushie wet. There was something trickling down the plush’s neck.

It looked like blood.

Unnervingly enough, it was warm and tacky like blood while it sluggishly slid down along the plush’s neck to its upper body.

That was not normal.

Your mind wasn’t exactly sure what to make of this, but there was something telling you to help.

Sooner rather than later.

You head back into the house and wrapped the long-limber Puzzles plush up in a blanket, as if this would somehow help whatever was going on. Washing your hands free of dog saliva and blood (?) you picked up the blanket with the Mr. Puzzles plush tucked within. After locking up the house, you hurried down the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a very busy time a day, so no one saw you booking it down the sidewalk with a panicked look on your face.

You didn’t exactly have a plan, apart from maybe finding something useful in the house Mr. Puzzles used at the edge of town when he visited your world.

Why?

You weren’t sure.

It wasn’t like you were exactly thinking very clearly right now.

In no time at all, you reached the house.

Standing in the front entryway, you fret about what to do.

Really, what were you thinking? This was a plush you were carrying.

Why would it be bleeding?

Was it from the dog instead?

You were about to leave the house, feeling self-conscious about the overreaction, when you recalled you’d not checked on the portal for months. The house you were in just so happened to be where the portal between worlds was located, safely in the basement, behind a password locked door.

Might as well take a look before you leave. It really was a shame it wasn’t working.

Sighing, you walk over to the door to the basement, and, entering an passcode, entered then closed the door behind you.

One safety check passed.

You closed the door behind, and walked down the stairs after flicking on the light. Holding the blanket close, you made your way down the staircase, mind drifting with each step.

What was it you were expecting to find, other than to confirm whether or not the portal was back up and running.

Hope to see other friends again?

Sadness that the portal may not be there after all?

You paused at the base of the staircase, blowing out a slow, slow breath as you steeled yourself for disappointment.

Just look.

Might as well get it over, and who knows?

Maybe things will be different this time-

You sucked in a sharp breath, looking first with confusion, then with slowly dawning hope.

There was a telltale light beneath the door on the other side of the spacious basement.

It couldn’t be…could it?

Holding the blanket with the Puzzles plush tighter to your chest, you cautiously stepped forward and reached out to carefully enter the code to the door. Taking another breath, then letting it out slowly, you shove the door open and step through it, before leaning back into the heavier door in order to it shut behind you to be resealed.

As soon as you heard the sound indicating the door was secure, you turned.

And stared.

Uncomprehendingly at first until slowly, a smile made its way onto your face as excitement grew.

The portal was back.

It was working again!

It looked stable, the glowing swirl that looked like a galaxy of blue and white.

The portal looked exactly like it was the first time it had been created. And to prove that it was working, the computer on the desk was on.

When you appraised, you were able to see that there was a note that was left open a document.

‘Sorry that it took so long to fix and stabilize the portal. I hope you’ve been doing okay. It’s hard to tell how much time passes between the two worlds, but since they’re parallel to one another, the time ought to be similar.

Is Mr. Puzzles there with you? No one has seen him for about three years over here.

Is he all right? Tari was wondering, since she mentioned something about seeing him enter the portal, but said she doesn’t remember seeing Puzzles coming back through before the connection went down. Even if he did go through, he does have tools over there to keep up on maintenance. Tell him that he still has to fix one of the sheds here in the showgrounds that he put together and then left everything in limbo.

Everything should be good to go with the portal though, so feel free to visit!’

You figured the message was from Smg4, even if he (and 3) merely tolerated Mr. Puzzles’ presence for your sake. As did many of their friends and acquaintances. Smg3 and 4 were both well well aware that it made you happy to be with Mr. Puzzles, and the tv headed man just so happened to behave himself, for the most part, while around you.

Wait.

You reread the document note, and frowned worriedly.

Mr. Puzzles wasn’t in his home world?

For years?

That seemed rather specific, considering you’d not seen Mr. Puzzles for three years as well.

You gaze drops to the blanket and the plush there.

There was no way.

You turned the blanket bundle to get a better look at the Puzzles plush.

But…could it be…?

“Mr. Puzzles?” You asked incredulously, as you tentatively checked the plush’s neck again. When you pulled your hand back, you came away with what was undoubtedly blood, tacky between your fingers. You gripped the blanket near the plush’s head as you leaned over it. “Is that…is that really you? How in the world did you end up like this? Have you been like this for three years? How…when did…?”

Questions later.

Right now, you didn’t think about the craziness that was the possibility of Mr. Puzzles being turned into a plushie. All you thought was to get him somewhere he could get some help. This also meant that you didn’t care about whether or not the portal would remain stable when you use it.

“If this is really you, we’ll figure out how to get you back to normal, don’t you worry.” You told the plush. Holding the blanket to your chest, you start up the portal, and barely wait for it to form before you step into it.

Once on the other side of the portal, you’re actually met not only by Smg4, but 1, 2, and 3 as well.

Convenient, that.

You hoped that one of them knew what the hell happened to Mr. Puzzles because you sure as heck didn’t.

None of the Smg’s were able to speak or even greet you as you practically thrust the blanket wrapped around the long limbed Mr. Puzzles plush (possibly the real one too?) and spoke hastily.

“I thought this was just some random plush thet my coworker found in the dumpster, but a dog just recently had it in its mouth, shaking it around. And now it looks like the plush is bleeding around its neck like what happens to Mr. Puzzles when he spends too long in my world for too long. Can you help him?”

At least, you believe this is what was going on, as you couldn’t think of any other explanation as to why there was honest to goodness blood on the neck of a plush toy filled with cotton.

Thankfully, no one asked questions, because the moment all of them saw the fresh blood sluggishly trailing down from the plush’s neck, all four of them took you seriously that you were serious, that this was actually urgent and you very much were not a joke.

There was a wave of relief when I was finally back in my home world, but I wasn’t especially keen on being around Smg4 and the others like this.

Helpless, and unable to move in this stupid long limbed plush body.

There was still the fear that someone would want to take further revenge against me for what I did in the past. Even if things were better than before, even if I’d made some amends with a few of Smg4’s friends, I knew there was a long way for me to go.

And that not everyone would forgive me.

I could live with that, when I had others I was able to rely on, including you.

It didn’t mean that fear didn’t rise when I saw not only Smg4 and 3 approach me, but also the ones I leaned were called Smg1 and Smg2.

And when my vision was lost again, I was scared.

What were they doing to me?

I…

I couldn’t do anything to stop them, but you were there too, and I trusted you. Trusted you to make what you believed to be the right decision to figure out how to get him out of this predicament.

But it didn’t change how scared I was that something might go wrong.

I was nervous, in that darkness I was suspended within, while I waited for whatever it was the Smg’s were going to do to me.

The longer the darkness continued, the worse what could happen began to filter through my mind.

Would they trap me in this plush, so I would never be able to escape or do anything ever again, to never be able to speak to you or anytime else? Were they actually going to be able to help me return to normal?

Time seemed to stretch out in an agonizingly slow manner.

My hearing went next, leaving only silence within that darkness.

I held onto the knowledge that you were in the room with the others, and that you would yank my pathetic plush body away should anything happen to go wrong.

The pain soon began, interrupting the usual numbness I had been within. The aches and burning agony began to trickle in, then a fire of sensation rippled across me like lightning.

The sensations like he was being stretched out soon followed.

It was uncomfortable.

After being unable to move for so long, I couldn’t even begin to fight back against such a sensation. As much as I wanted to, I felt too weak to resist the feeling that was returning to my body. Despite how unbearable it was becoming, I would withstand whatever was currently happening to me.

I trusted you.

There wasn’t any way you would let them hurt me. Not after everything we’d gone through to get to where we were now.

All at once, my hearing suddenly snapped back into existence. The voices around me slowly become clearer, until I heard someone saying my name.

Sensation came back to me, as I realized I could suddenly feel my own body. My own non-plush body, feeling utterly exhausted and in pure agony like I had stayed for too long in your world.

…I likely had, if my neck was bleeding as a plush.

Someone said my name again, a hand patting my metal head incessantly.

My…my head.

My television head!

At another thump that rattled my handsome metal head, then my screen flickered on when someone turned the dial on the side of my face.

I let out a simulated gasp while convulsing on what appeared to be a flat cot or gurney. My left arm felt significantly lighter than my right. In fact, my entire body felt very heavy, especially what was left of his human body. I felt like I’d run a marathon, or had been beaten up and tossed down a tall staircase.

Unfortunately, you sewing part of the plush arm onto mine did not save my left arm now that I was no longer in that plush form.

It was missing from the elbow down.

But my metal arms and legs could be fixed now that I was home. I was certain that I had extra pieces in the house at the edge of the showgrounds to make the necessary repairs.

Once I was more lucid and less like I was just staring off into space, I was able to see just how I was able to return back to normal, and they I had, in fact, been taken somewhere else than the place the portal was.

E. Gadd had been a part of the help, along with the Smg’s.

I must have been out of it longer than I’d realized, because as I lie there on what was, in fact, a gurney, I found slowly growing dread within my chest.

Three years, I heard someone say.

Had I really been trapped in that plush for so long?

Struggling to make sense of my rather unnerving experience, I had trouble listening in to all of the voices speaking around me.

I’d been away from you for three years.

And yet, you’d still held out the hope of seeing me again, when you’d believed that I was just on the other sides of the portal.

So much lost time…

I absently tuned back into the voices speaking around me to avoid the unnerving way that my time as a plush had ruined my sense of time for so long. And as I listened to the explanation provided to me, the whole situation was made worse in my mind.

From the gist of it, I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A simple mistake, that had caused so much grief and uncertainty for you, and suffering as well as mental torture for me.

From the sound of it, someone had been aiming for Luigi, who’d been working in his flower shop.

I just so happened to be browsing the selection that was being offered. I’d likely been considering getting you something for one reason or another before everything had gone dark.

King Boo was a name brought up as a likely culprit, or someone working for him, and that Luigi was more than likely the target and I’d just unfortunately gotten got caught in the crossfire.

But it was neither here nor there, since I was back to normal. It wasn’t like I could tell anyone how I’d ended up in your world, anyway; unless someone had thought it a particularly funny idea to send more of my marketable plushies to your world, and I’d just so happened to be tossed in with a box of them.

I’d likely never know.

I would just have to be more aware of my surroundings, out and about, until I could confirm it was an isolated incident.

For right now?

I was just relieved to be in my own body once again, and not trapped within that of a plush’s.

I hummed noncommittally when I heard Smg4 say that he and the others were going to give me some space to get myself back under my own control. I suppose I was rather stiff and felt far more weighty than I ought to have been.

Oh, I was not looking forward to performing maintenance in myself when my motor control properly returned to me. But it was nice to be able to have some privacy to relax and adjust to being able to move again under my own power when before, I was helpless and unable to move at all unless someone moved me.

But the quiet was a double edged sword, as the situation slowly sunk in and the silence reminded too much of what I’d just escaped from.

It was just as well that I was left alone for a time, as emotions began to overflow, right before I broke down, overwhelmed as well as immensely grateful that I was myself again.

You waited (impatiently, really, really impatiently) outside of the laboratory room like professor E. Gadd, Smg4 and the others had asked you to. It took quite some time before you saw anyone, which made you a little nervous for Mr. Puzzles wellbeing.

Would something go wrong?

Would the tv headed man be all right?

Would there be any lasting impacts for Mr. Puzzles by being trapped in the form of a plushie (or was the plush itself)?

Either option had its own horrors that came with it, but with both, you were very concerned about just how aware Mr. Puzzles had been in that state.

Did he remember the whole time, only bits and pieces of it, or would Puzzles just think he’d taken a very long nap?

You weren’t sure if he would tell you, considering he’d likely not want to think about it long-term. He’d kept silent on his past actions with the Smg4 crew for a long time, so this could be something that he either touched on at a much later time, or not at all.

Again, it likely depended on how much Mr. Puzzles remembered his stint as an immobile plush.

The time couldn’t pass quickly enough.

It seemed like hours had gone by before you were finally allowed into the room where Mr. Puzzles was.

You do think a lot of time had passed, but for you, in this world, it was much harder to tell the time without seeing the sun or the moon. And not to mention the physics and such were distorted here for you. One benefit seemed to be not needing to eat as often, while on the other hand you needed a very long, good nights’s sleep to feel refreshed.

The moment you were offered an open doorway into the lab room, you went immediately with quick murmurs of thanks that you’d be sure to voice better later on. Right now, you were just happy to be able to see Mr. Puzzles. You sure hoped that being shaken around like a dog toy didn’t cause him any lasting harm, but since no one told you anything to be concerned for, you hoped he really was fine.

The man was ridiculously durable for someone with a television for a head.

There was always lingering concern that Mr. Puzzles might eventually take too much damage for him to easily recover from.

As you entered the lab, and slowly closed the door behind you, the telltale sound of Mr. Puzzles having a breakdown could be clearly heard. You located Puzzles quickly due to this, and found that he was on a small gurney in the corner of the room. You could see that the man was on his side, partially scrunched up in order to make his tall, lanky frame smaller. Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the only one he currently had, was pressed to his screen, the tear-stained expression of misery visible beneath it.

He hadn’t noticed that you were in the room yet.

Slowly, you approached the gurney, thinking it had to have been uncomfortable for him to lie on it all scrunched up like that.

In the same moment, Puzzles almost immediately curled in on himself further.

“Mr. Puzzles?” You softly called out, coming to a halt alongside the gurney so he could see you.

The man’s left arm twitched at the elbow joint, metal showing with wires sticking out. There were also small cables twisted around one another that allowed for motion, which twitched in your direction. The gloved hand over Puzzles’ screen parted fingers to peek at you between them with a sorrowful digital eye. It was quick to switch to a softer expression, the ‘tears’ remaining as the screen was slowly revealed. A tremulous technicolor smile with digital eyes gave off the impression of immense relief.

Seeing the way his hand dropped self-consciously to his neck with an averted off to the side look, you locate some fabric nearby and offer it to him. You waited for Mr. Puzzles to wrap the fabric one-handed around his wire neck. Seeing him struggle, then pause with a slow tilt of his head, you held out your hands in quiet offer. You allowed Puzzles to gratefully guide your hands to help him secure the fabric around his neck, to help support what remained of his cervical spine.

No words were spoken.

Not even when Mr. Puzzles curled his right hand over yours once you tied the fabric off. His hand slid to twine fingers with yours to give your hand a light squeeze, as if in silent thanks. Once Puzzles let go of you, he didn’t even have to ask you to join him, when the man’s body language was all but screaming for you to come closer. So you carefully crawled onto the gurney, surprised that it held your weight as well as Mr. Puzzles.

It was a different world than yours with its own set of rules, so maybe it held because it was just assumed it would if someone was on it?

That didn’t really matter right now.

You sank into Mr. Puzzles’ side and wrapped an arm just beneath what was left of his left arm. Your grasp tightened as you realized that Puzzles was really back; that he was really here with you.

Mr. Puzzles slid his right arm out from under you to wrap you in a snug embrace in return. He’d uncurled himself enough to let you join him, but had almost instantly curved his tall frame around you. He also held you to his chest in a tight, desperate squeeze of someone who feared the one they held might vanish from right in from of them.

You understood the feeling well as you cling back just as tightly.

Another long silence passed, as the two of you just clung to one another.

“Thank you, for taking such good care of me.” Mr. Puzzles was the first to speak, murmuring softly. His hand pet down along your spine a few times before settling between your shoulder blades. “I’m sorry that you were alone for so long, without me being able to visit you or to speak to you.” There was a short pause, then. “Your roommates and your ‘podcast buddies’. Thwy kept you company?”

It was a big thing for Mr. Puzzles to ask that, and without any of the usual derision or scorn. The man had been initially jealous of the time you spent out of his company, up until the two of you had had a serious heart to heart talk about that behavior when it had begun to go too out of control.

“You were all alone too. I’m sorry that you weren’t found sooner.” You pressed your face into Mr. Puzzles’ chest, listening to the heartbeat beneath. “Being stuck as a plushie had to have been terrifying for you. I’m so glad my coworker found you and passed you on to me. I don’t know what would have happened if you’d remained in that dumpster.”

“…I don’t care to know. The very idea I ended up in one is worrying enough.” Mr. Puzzles murmured overhead, as he absently nuzzled the top of your head with the bottom of his casing.

“Could you hear me talking?” You asked after a moment of enjoying the careful nuzzles.

“I…yes, I could, once you’d restored the plush I was trapped as.” Mr. Puzzles said quietly, after a pointed pause. “It was nice to be able to hear your voice again, even if I couldn’t move or speak in return.”

“I hope you know that I meant everything I said to you.” You told him. “And I very much don’t want to let go of you anytime soon.”

“Oh, my dear, you’ll find that won’t be a problem at all.” Mr. Puzzles’ voice, while exhausted, was quick to take on a low, sultry tone while he leaned closer, and drew you closer, in order to whisper alongside your head. “You see, I do not plan on letting go of you anytime either.”

Your breath nearly left you as the tv headed man clung determinedly to you, even going so far as to hook a leg over yours at the ankles.

“I missed holding you in my arms.” Mr. Puzzles murmured, pressing his metal head in a nuzzle lightly alongside your head. He paused, then, chuckling. “Well, one of my arms, anyway.” A happy static sigh as his fingers pressed down along your back. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

“Then don’t.” You grip the fabric beneath your fingers. “Keep holding me.”

“I won’t let go then.” Mr. Puzzles let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I am holding you.” He stated, as if in disbelief. The tv headed man curled around you as much as he was able, in order to hold you as closely as possible to him. “I most certainly am holding you.” The nuzzling resumed. “I won’t be letting go. You’re trapped here with me.” Mr. Puzzles lightly teased as he traced fingers along your spine.

“Even if 3 and 4 try to kick us out?” You asked dryly, comfortably sagging into Puzzles while you hugged him around the waist just as fiercely, lest he somehow vanish from your sight. “Even Professor E. Gadd, since it’s his lab?”

“Even then.” Mr. Puzzles agreed, languidly stretching the leg over your ankles before settling it back. Then, Puzzles tucked the lower edge of his metal head’s casing over yours. After placing a quick spark of a kiss from his screen to the top of your head he spoke a low growl of a promise. “I won’t be parted from you so easily.”

The two of you didn’t anticipate Mario barging into the lab, though it ought to have been a possibility, considering where Mr. Puzzles and you now were.

Mario came to a halt while watching the close snuggling that was currently occurring on the gurney.

You froze.

Mr. Puzzles let out a static crackling noise.

“That’s-a so nice.” Mario raised a phone, a hint of a smile visible under that mustache even from a distance. “How about Mario help you out?”

A snap of the phone’s camera had Mr. Puzzles lunge up off the gurney, while holding you, and made right for the Italian like he was holding terrible blackmail. Mario no-clipped out of the lab without preamble, leaving Mr. Puzzles to let out a growl of frustration as he got to his feet, and immediately gave chase.

The tv man was unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t let that prevent him from stalking after Mario, or from letting go of you.

Yup.

That was right.

Mr. Puzzles was still holding on to you, and was currently actually carrying you in the crook of one arm. This would make it difficult to catch Mario while Puzzles’ left arm was partially missing, but it seemed that the tv headed man was taking the ‘not letting go of you any time soon’ very seriously.

Mario ‘helping’ turned out to be leading Mr. Puzzles on a merry chase until all three of you reached the showgrounds, and the irateness the Mr. Puzzles held began to dissipate conveniently right near the house you and Puzzles used while spending time with one another in this world. Mario winked at you, and, with a glance at Mr. Puzzles, the plumber continued on his way, whistling his theme song as he went.

You didn’t comprehend for a moment about not having to run to keep pace with Puzzles.

But then it clicked.

Not only did Mr. Puzzles carry you this entire way, but from his screen’s expression, he was considering whether or not to continue to his pursuit of Mario. You were allowed to slide out of the crook of Mr. Puzzles right arm, where he’d held you propped in the crook of his arm and against his chest (with your arm loosely around his neck to hang on).

“Puzzles?” Turning, you witness the way Mr. Puzzles had straightened up, his screen reflecting his annoyed right now. But you gave him a quick once over, and you were now paying more attention to the way the man’s chest rose and fell with false breaths, the tv headed man’s mechanical supported heart working overtime with false lungs.

Oh.

And Mr. Puzzles’ dress shirt had three buttons undone and the whole vest was unbuttoned, which gave you a very nice view of grayed skin around the collarbones.

You’d not noticed the bow tie missing until now, which allowed the sight in the first place.

Ah.

Now you knew what Mario was insinuating.

Giving Mr. Puzzles more one on one time with you, so that he could recover in a quieter location he was more familiar with.

Thoughtful.

But you believed you could get Puzzles to calm down and relax a little more if you happened to tease him.

Just a little.

Reaching out before Mr. Puzzles could make a decision on what to do, you grasped him by the open top of the dress shirt. This did quite a lot in securing a rather intense look from Mr. Puzzles. You gave a tug while taking a step in the direction of the house.

Mr. Puzzles was startlingly quick to follow you, and even kicked the door in, as if unlocking it was going to take much too long. The man did put the door back, sort of, by propping it in place when you’d let go of him.

By the time you reached the bedroom, Mr. Puzzles was already in the doorway.

You ended up with Mr. Puzzles practically plastered agaisnt you, his arm wrapped around you the moment you’d torn the top blanket off the bed in case of dust.

Puzzles chuckled low in his chest over your head, then he fell backward onto the bed with you, catching his metal head on some pillows.

Only to make hacking noises as dust entered one of his vents.

Oops.

You’d not thought about those.

But the coughing gave you enough time to discover another, non-dusty, big blanket in the closet. By the time you got back onto the bed, Mr. Puzzles had recovered, despite his screen showing a sniffling expression. But it quickly flashed to an eager, soft smile when you cuddled into him again, this time on your right side so that Mr. Puzzles could lie on his left to wrap his right arm snugly around you. The blanket was swiftly settled over the two of you before Puzzles placed several lingering, tingly electrical sparks of kisses along your throat and neck. He ended the perusal with a lighter static against your lips before Mr. Puzzles leaned his screen to press to your forehead to for a time.

“I love you, my dear.” Hushed, nearly inaudible, as a heartbeat line with a flush over it appeared on Mr. Puzzles’ screen, digital eyes with hearts in them, and technicolor smile lovey-dovey. “I missed you so much.”

A comfortable silenced then a shy stuttering when Mr. Puzzles realized what he’d just said.

“Love you too.” You cling to the man to prevent him from scrambling out of bed and he defeatedly sagged into you. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not!” Mr. Puzzles’ screen was awash with a deep red heart rate, eyes and a self-conscious smile. “Everyone loves me!”

“I think Smg4 would prove you wrong with a few of his friends.” You playfully swat one of his shoulders. “C’mere.”

Mr. Puzzles indulgently shifted beneath the blanket to allow you to pet either side of his metal head. The uncertainty was still there, but he pressed into your touch regardless.

“What I said before? About meaning everything I said to you when I thought I was just talking to a plushie?” You trailed your fingers down along the sides of the television set, before going to rest near the antenna with one hand, fingers gently rubbing the metal there, which drew out a shiver.

“Y…yes?” Mr. Puzzles groaned softly in response as his metal head leaned to one side to encourage you to keep petting his antenna.

“That also means that even if you don’t say ‘I love you’ out loud, I can still see it in your actions when you’re around me.” You scoot closer across the sheets to reach for the other antenna and Mr. Puzzles all but dropped his head to your shoulder as his right arm tightened around your waist. “You gift me things, you spend time with me, you listen to me when I get going on an idea for my podcast. You stay with me if I’m feeling under the weather, and you’ve gotten so much better at giving me the space to hang out with my other friends.” You pet the antenna lightly, before slowly tracing back down over the vents to rest at the back of Puzzles’ neck. “You trust me to help you when you need it.”

Mr. Puzzles lazily leaned his body into yours to carefully topple you over onto your back as he pressed his tall lanky body around you again. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to.

The joyful noises beneath the static and the man’s renewed interest in bestowing you gentle zaps of kisses was enough to have gotten him into a loving, affectionate mood again.

But Mr. Puzzles was clearly overwhelmed from both turning back to normal from a plushie, his own words, and yours, uncharacteristically quiet but for the wordless vocalizations as he gripped you in a firm embrace under the blanket.

The two of you would stay like that for hours, enjoying one another’s company, until it would become your turn to be given kind words of all you did for Mr. Puzzles once he’d gathered himself together. Sadly, being wooed by your boyfriend’s suddenly low, playful voice as he detailed your actions and gestures toward him would have to wait.

Screaming had begun outside, and from the sound of it, Mario and possibly Smg3 had done something to the carnival rides in the showgrounds that made them run loose all over the place. And one such thing was a bumper car that miraculously (somehow) managed to get into the bedroom of the house.

That was one quick, sure fire way to end the mood.

You did, however, prop yourself up on your elbows and held your head up with your palms to watch as Mr. Puzzles failed miserably in his attempt to shoo the bumper car out of the house.

Not only that, the tv headed man was somehow kidnapped by said bumper car.

Mr. Puzzles pitched forward, head first, into it with a high pitched scream, his legs sticking up annd out. Speechless you watched the bumper car zoom out of the hole in the wall.

When Smg4 checked on you to be sure you’d not gotten hurt, you were laughing while peering out the window of the living room.

Your poor boyfriend was taken for an impromptu, unpleasant joyride around the showgrounds in a runaway bumper car.

Once Mr. Puzzles finally escaped (with help from Tari and Saiko) the tv headed man hobbled back to the house to sulk. He’d even half draped himself dramatically over your lap on the sofa (you’d remained in the living room) while you pat his back consolingly.

This was more like it.

You had missed the crazy antics of Smg4 and his crew, but you’d also missed just spending time with Mr. Puzzles like this.

And now, with the portal back in place, and Mr. Puzzles no longer trapped as a long-limbed plush, the two of you would be able to make up for lost time.

#one shot #smg4 mr puzzles x reader #smg4 mr puzzles #See the tags below the cut for the one shot

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carcingeneticist · 1 hour ago

Text

am I insane enough to answer all of this? possibly, anyway!

1. It was few years ago in 1st grade of highschool

2. I used to have an motivation to join fandoms that were conciderd cringe or were weird in some way

3. Yes I was in Undertale fandom before so I heard they have refrences to each other. Also I knew it from some infamous events from fandom

4. idk it's hard to say. I love this series and all and I love it's characters and analysing it but overall I'm not sure?

5. Well honestly yeah. It got me into thinking that everything we do might just be pre-planned and we can't do anything about it, which is my main philosophy I'm currently going with. So in some way it kinda influenced my spiritual believe (which is kinda insane ik).

6. Probably reading it for first time. I sometimes want to go back to this timeframe when during summer I've done nothing but just read Homestuck whole day, not knowing things ik about now.

7. OKAY SO HERE'S FUN BACKSTORY THAT HAPPENED THIS YEAR; I was waiting for a class on corridor when suddenly I hear someone talking about "something doing Karkat cosplay" AND I WAS SO TAKEN ABACK BY THIS FACT BECAUSE HOMESTUCK IN YEAR OF OUR LORD 2024???? I didn't had time to catch up with them and instead as any sane person about something which I'm totally am about Homestuck, I made ig story about hearing someone talking about Homestuck and Karkat specifically (and that I'm only one who can cosplay him jk). and it turned out that one of my mutals from school actually knows this person and I thought oh shit that's kinda embarrassing... but like nothing really happened for a while UNTIL WEEK LATER where I wait on same corridor for same class when I see a paper note on one of locker that strangely seem to reassemble Karkat drawing. I thought 'oh shit is that for me?' so I go up there and OH SHIT THAT WAS FOR ME; there was my name on it (although it's more important f my ig handle but yk) and there was infact Karkat drawn there. So I take this note and not only they drew Karkat and Nepeta BUT THEY ALSO MADE A TROLL SONA FOR ME WHICH WAS SO FUCKING WHOLESOME. so I contacted them later through ig and we talked for some time and bonded over our hatred for Vriska lol. anyway I actually met them for first time today (the day I'm typing it) and they are really coo, I showed them where the artist with Homestuck merch was :33

8. I READ IT FULL 2 TIMES!! (well second one was let's read Homestuck but still lol) but it took a while to read it for first time, I remember that for like 3 weeks of summer I were doing nothing but reading Homestuck.

9. KARKAT, KARKAT AND ONCE AGAIN KARKAT. MY BIGGEST KIN AND BLORBO I LOVE THIS GUY TO DEATH

10. Cal. just cal.

11. probably Gamzee but that's a common take i fear

12. common opinion number 2: Dave (but all of beta kids are great and I love them)

13. common opinion number 3: Dirk, but honestly he and Roxy fight in my head for this spot bcs I love them both sm (I actually love all Alpha kids as a group, they have such a great dynamic)

14. common opinion number 4: Karkat obv

15. Porrim is only dancestor I like.

16. Sufferer definitely, I love Jesus analogy with him and Karkat (but I fucking hate kankri).

17. honestly probably John's dad in beta timeline since he was only one who actually cared about his kid, but if we count alpha Dave then him

18. MAYOR. Common opinion number 5

19. Calliope she's honestly such a sweetheart

20: FEFETA JUSTICE!!! >:(( but I also love davepeta^2

21: Idk really!!! I think like I would get along with most characters (except the ones I don't like) but maybe like Roxy or Dirk? or overall Alpha kids actually lol. Also Nepeta would be really fun as a friend!!!

23: I think Terezis one; I love Karkat's because I would actually use that one irl but Terezi's quirk is not only fitting her but also creative in a way you could still read that. also >:?

24: Cronus because it's just Eridans quirk but worse

25: "ATTENTION WORTHLESS HUMAN, THIS IS YOUR GOD SPEAKING"

26. Dirk: Unite Synchronization

27: Heir of Grief easily, my Spotify stat shows that

28: I've been recently constantly listening Sweet - Trickster!Jane song by Phemedic!!! i love how it shows the sugar high as if it was real drugs and it's both sweet but creepy

29. Moonlight Tsundere/ I'm still here/ Calignous Waltz (there's a lot of good ones okay???)

30: One for the money by ikimaru (BUT THERE'S SO MANY GOOD ONES IT'S SO HARD TO CHOOSE ONE AUGHH)

31: I don't rly have one ://

32: YES!!! Okay so I thought about this a lot but 30/90 from Tick tick boom is literally about John/Karkat's birthday

33: Love in time of Juggalos by sburbanite - I CAN'T RECOMMEND THIS FANFIC ENOUGH, PLEASE IF YOU LIKE DAVEKAT AND REINCARNATION AU'S THIS IS LITERALLY BEST THING EVER PLEASE READ IT.

34: IKIMARU, IKIMARU AND ONCE AGAIN IKIMARU, I know they aren't in Homestuck fandom anymore and that's valid but their Homestuck art is so good, it's the most accurate depiction of characters I ever saw I swear. I love their art sm and their artstyle feels so comfy.

35: BET!! So Let's say Davekat would be more of out of quadrant relationship because obv, so then Aradia <3 Sollux, Roxy <> Dirk, John <3< Terezi (only potential healthy kismetitude we were shown) and Karkat o8< Jade o3< Karkat (this is stupidest shit ever and I love it)

36: A few but the one in my mind that stuck in the most is (obv) Karkat goes to convention

37: I spent some time of my life watching analysis videos of Homestuck characters so yeah obv

38. based on the adding your month to date of birth it would be Vriska and honestly no. Just no.

39. Karkat............. And Dirk (who said that??)

40: I DID KARKAT FEW TIMES (I did him yesterday from time of writing this) but I also want to do in future: Dirk, Dave, Gamzee, John and probably more

41: I would want to be derse but sadly I'm too prospit....

42: I hate both but between two bads i would choose meat

43: Fuck felt, make me a member of the midnight crew

44. RARE OPINION I THINK?? But alpha!!!

45. Red because of course

46. Canon, I'm sorry but i'm lore kind of Homestuck reader

47. Knight of heart!!! apparently it's popular classpect but I chose it for myself so it's mine

48. Knights outfit is honestly one of better god tiers designs ( - condom hood) and heart color palette is also one of nicer tho if I could I would change pants and boots.

49. ohh that's actually really interesting! my Homestuck sona color is red and I think it would be same for me (or it could be also hot pink honestly) and for quirk I'm pretty sure it would be same as I type casually (a lot of abbreviation, using mostly lower case and using u instead of you.) but I could also totally go Karkat typing mode.

50: Again same as my sona's; a scythe (or maybe like a kitchen knife)

51: I DON'T HAVE ONE YET!!!! OKAY BUT I CAN THINK OF SOMETHING QUICKLY; CascaderGame? that's stupid but whatever I said I'm just thinking of it as I'm typing.

52: Okay so my first one is definitely Dirk and Nepeta (I just think they would get along great!) also on that note; Karkat and Dirk since I think they would have really fun dynamic. Also John & Karkat since we waited on that for so long. and more interactions between Alpha and Beta kids!!!!

53: As I said earlier yes!!! I have kid Sona Ryan :DD

54: YESS!!! I'm currently in middle of making a whole session with my fantrolls and kids!!!

55: well yes as I said earlier lol

56: Do you mean as in I immediately think of Homestuck or my fav one? the one I almost always think about Homestuck is Zodiac; for me it doesn't exist anymore as just a concept, it's only Homestuck. Also typing quirks are very THE Homestuck refrence.

57: Probably some plushie in my room, I think throwing in my Rainbow dash plushie could be fun

58: I WOULD ABSOLUTELY, GIVE ME THE COPY RN

59: YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY I'M WINNING THIS SHIT.

60: Mostly fragments of it since I don't really care that much ://

61: again just fragments

62: Yep!

63: Yep!

64: I started playing it but honestly got bored since I don't really care all that much about Hiveswap characters :// (sorry!!)

65: yep

66: Actually no and I don't really care about it.

67: no and I also don't care

68: YESS!!! AND I LOVE IT SM!!!

69: nope

70: YES AND I THINK THERE'S FEW!!! So first of all definitely the plot since it's a common knowledge a lot of fans have problems with understanding it first read (but I understood it completely first read!!!! >:)) and second the characters and dynamics between them (because some of you are really missing a lot of points in them.............)

71: I would love to know more about earth C if it wasn't such a pile of hot garbage. Also the lives of alpha Dave and Rose, and Beta trolls on Beforus (I ACTUALLY REALLY WANT TO KNOW THIS ONE, LIKE PLEASE.)

72: I love how creative it can get and how insane it sometime is!!! I love seeing the fanarts and fanfics written by us (especially if the description of fanfic is just insane and it ends up being golden). Also I love all the other works like fansongs, animatics, fancomics, lyricstuck ect!!!! everything you create is great!!!!

73: I don't like some treatment of certain characters in fandom :// also i don't like how a lot of people are easy to just hate on certain ships (like Davekat was recently very hated on). I absolutely understand not liking all ships because I also have a lot of ships I dislike but there's no reason to publically hate? like at least do it privately ig

74: I forced my one friend to read it, so yes :33

75: I HAVE SOME STICKERS AND PINS I GOT AT CON FROM ARTIST ALLEY!!!! (ALSO MY KARKAT PLUSH IS INCOMING SO I'M WAITING FOR HIM >:334

76: ......*inhale* JANE DID NOTHING WRONG IN HOMESTUCK ABD THEY HAD NO RIGHT TURNING HER FASCIST AND RACIST IN EPILOGUES. I LOVE JANE AND I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND HER!!!!!!! MY JANE IS NOT A FASCIST!!!!!!

77: I said my popular opinions before lol

78: I HATE MOST OF DANCESTORS, I DON'T THINK THEY SHOULD EXIST AND BRING SOMETHING TO THE PLOT, AND ARANEA BIT WAS A FUCKING JOKE

79: oh god just one thing........ uhh Karkat and Sollux were moirails on Alternia up to the Murderstuck. there. (or I would make bro into fanon version of him because I fucking lol him)

80: JANE BEING FUCKING FASICT IN EPILOGUES.

81: I was recently watching con-air (yes because of Homestuck lol) and it reminded me of all scenes were John was roleplaying this movie and I think they were very funny lol

82: Vriska has such a great fucking design, I'm so sad she's such a 8itch. Also a lot of dancestors has cool designs

83: Maybe Aradia? since I started liking her after she god tiered. but besides that I don't think so, I liked most characters from beginning (or from beginning hated them)

84: There's few that are kinda under the rule: we were shown in canon they wouldn't work, but the biggest offender for that for me is Karkat x Nepeta... Because Karkat said canonically he wouldn't want to date her and shipping them together feels weird for me :// ig I feel similar way about Karezi. Also Rose or Kanaya with any men.

85: I'm not really a fan of neither if I'm honest lol. I prefer ships that have sense canon wise

86: On earth C the main cast is treated like gods and they can walk in into and restaurant or shop they want and get everything for free, because they are gods, who's going to tell them to pay money? (my favorite kind of hcs is just ignoring epilogues and creating my own earth C LMAO)

87: All of the let's read Homestuck voices are canon to me actually (well the first ones because they changed some of the voices later and they don't fit that well ://)

88: Intermission. Okay let me tell you something to intermission fans who tell you, you have to read it to be real Homestuck fan, no tf you don't. You can skip entire intermission and loose nothing.

89: I made few arts and I wrote some fics (but I have plans for a longer ones!!!)

90: OFC!!! I'm even celebration 612 and 11/11!!! (which is really soon so HAPPY 11/11!!!!!!)

91: Only Karkat's and John's/Jane's (Rest of kids have really weird birthdays tho, like why don't they get their special date and instead they are stacked on top of each other?)

92: I think the og hussies one when they are blobs without necks, I think it looks really silly and fun

93: MAKES TEREZI LOCO, SHE WANTS TO KNOW THE SECRETS THAT SHE CAN'T TASTE IN MY PHOTO. DYING JUST TO KNOW THE FLAVOUR, I AIN'T DOING HER NO FAVOR-

94: yes dead media from 2012 Tumblr XDD no but srs I think it did because I really crave media similar to Homestuck

95: I can't explain it well but I think south park? mostly probably because of kid focus and a lot of pop culture refrences (or a space that feels very closed of, especially in first seasons of South Park)

96: Because I have freeze reaction everytime I see something I could connect slightly to Homestuck (I can connect everything to Homestuck, I'm master at that)

97: when they are a loser stuck at home

98: Liblo sign of inescapable but I don't really relate to being a Libra so I prefer to think I'm Canlo sign of the thespian (even the description fits me more!!!!)

99: none

100: I'm heart bound, of course it will!!!! It's actually in top of my interests and definitely one of my favorite things!!!! :333

wow I'm finally done with this

Ultimate Homestuck ask game! (100 questions)

1. When did you start reading Homestuck?

2. What made you want to check it out?

3. Had you heard about Homestuck prior to reading it?

4. What does Homestuck mean to you?

5. Has Homestuck influenced you in any way?

6. What's your fondest Homestuck memory?

7. Have you meet friends through Homestuck?

8. How long did it take you to read Homestuck? Have you read it in its entirety?

9. Fave character? (overall)

10. Least fave character? (overall)

11. Fave "problematic" character?

12. Fave beta kid?

13. Fave alpha kid?

14. Fave beta troll?

15. Fave dancestor?

16. Fave ancestor?

17. Fave guardian?

18. Fave carapacian?

19. Fave cherub?

20. Fave sprite?

21. A character you'd be friends with?

22. A character you wouldn't be friends with?

23. Fave quirk?

24. Least fave quirk?

25. Fave pesterlog?

26. Fave flash?

27. Fave song/songs?

28. Fave fan song?

29. Fave Broadway Homestuck song?

30. Fave lyricstuck?

31. Fave Homestuck AU?

32. Are there any non Homestuck songs that make you think about Homestuck?

33. Fave fanfic?

34. Fave Homestuck writer/fan artist?

35. Fave ship? (alternatively: fave ship in each quadrant?)

36. Have you read any fan adventures?

37. Have you watched any Homestuck video essays?

38. Who's your patron troll? And do you identify with them in any way?

39. What characters are most like you?

40. If you do cosplay, which Homestuck characters have you done or would like to do?

41. Prospit or Derse?

42. Meat or Candy?

43. The Felt or The Midnight Crew?

44. Beta kids or alpha kids?

45. Red team or Blue team?

46. Canon or fanon?

47. What's your classpect?

48. Do you like your god tier or would you modify it to better suit your taste?

49. If you were in Homestuck, what would your color and typing quirk be?

50. Your strife specibus?

51. If you have one, what's your chumhandle?

52. What character interactions would you have liked to see/see more of?

53. Do you have a kidsona or trollsona?

54. Have you ever made fan kids or fan trolls?

55. Do you have any Homestuck OCs?

56. What's THE Homestuck reference for you?

57. Quick! You gotta prototype your kernel sprite, what are you dropping in there?

58. Would you play SBURB?

59. Do you think you'd win SBURB?

60. Have you read The Epilogues?

61. Have you read/are you reading Homestuck^2?

62. Have you played Pesterquest?

63. Have you played Hiveswap?

64. Have you played Friendsim?

65. Have you read the Intermission?

66. Have you read Problem Sleuth?

67. Have you read Jailbreak?

68. Have you read Paradox Space?

69. Have you read any of Hussie's other works?

70. What's an aspect of Homestuck you feel you know more about than the average Homestuck fan?

71. What's an aspect of Homestuck you'd like to know more about?

72. What's something you like about the fandom?

73. What's something you dislike about the fandom?

74. Would you recommend Homestuck to new readers/friends?

75. Do you have any Homestuck memorabilia/merch? (official or not?)

76. A hot take or hill you'd gladly die on?

77. What are your popular opinions?

78. What are your unpopular opinions?

79. If you could canonize one thing and one thing only, what would it be?

80. If you could uncanonize one thing and one thing only, what would it be?

81. Are there any panels you particularly remember or enjoy?

82. Is there any character you like aesthetically, but not personality wise?

83. Is there any character who's grown on you over time?

84. Is there a ship you don't particularly like/straight up hate?

85. Do you have any crackships or rare ships?

86. Any headcanons you'd like to share?

87. Do you have any voice claims for the cast?

88. Did you find any part of Homestuck boring?

89. If you're a creative, do you have any Homestuck related projects?

90. Do you celebrate 413?

91. Do you remember the characters' birthdays?

92. What's your favourite art style within Homestuck?

93. Karkalicious definition?

94. Has Homestuck influenced what you look for in fiction?

95. What's a non Homestuck thing that you think has strong Homestuck vibes?

96. Others could clock you as Homestuck fan because [blank].

97. You recognise fellow Homestuck fans because [blank].

98. What's your extended zodiac sign?

99. How normal are you about Homestuck?

100. Will Homestuck stay somewhere inside you forever and ever wherever you go?

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