#spm 2

[imaginethatneathuhpartdos]

...

Nice.

Mr. February (Driller Killer x Reader)

Summary: You get an unexpected visitor while looking through the February issue of Playgirl, whose centerfold of the month is doing absolutely nothing for you. Lucky for you, he’s willing to give you the real thing. At least, you think it’s the real thing.

Note: This is a ridiculous, raunchy, and extremely self-indulgent fic that I wrote mostly in three hours so take that as you will. The reader is a cis woman but no other descriptors are used. This was so fun to write because the Driller Killer in SPM2 is nothing if not outrageous. Shorter than what I usually write, but there’s very little plot to this. Do not interact if you are under 18 or if you post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), hair pulling (m. receiving), finger sucking (m. receiving), light choking (m. receiving) brief daddy kink. Dubcon to be safe since through most of the fic it's intentionally unclear whether it’s a dream or not. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Mr. February was not doing it for you. Blond hair, muscular build, and a boy-next-door smile as he leaned against the door frame of an auspicious suburban house with nothing but a toolbelt on—no matter how many different ways you tried to imagine the scenario, you couldn’t get into it. When your good friend Brenda had a girls’ night at her place, you lamented your sexual woes over glasses of wine. To your comfort, the other women present also weren’t particularly impressed with Playgirl’s recent offerings.

A little after one in the morning, you called it a night, heading upstairs to the guest bedroom Brenda was letting you crash in. Your other friends lived close enough to walk home if they wanted to and decided to stick around longer. Carefully shutting the door behind you, you looked at the centerfold that the group of you had bemoaned. How could it be possible that a man could be simultaneously so hot and so sexless?

You hoped the half bottle of wine you’d consumed would help get your imagination going, not that you hadn’t gone that route before. Undressing down to your bra and panties, you laid down on the guest bed. You grabbed the magazine yet again, as if staring at the nearly nude handyman would somehow make you suddenly attracted to him. 

Huffing in frustration, you glared at the magazine by your side. Brenda had given you the advice to cancel your subscription and try to find something raunchier, more tailored to your tastes than the generic guys in the safest porno mag you could possibly buy. The more you stared at Mr. February, the more annoyed you felt, his perfect smile mocking you as you slid your hand between your legs, trying to find some way to picture the guy in a scenario that would actually get you off.

Minutes went by, and nothing. He was too clean, too sterile, too perfect. You couldn’t picture him being able to do anything besides a pleasureless and mechanic missionary position that plagued the pill-popping housewives of old. Jesus. You’d have better luck with a fully clothed missionary at your front door than the schmuck on the glossy pages of the magazine. 

You threw your arm over your eyes, thinking instead about how much you’d like to kick Mr. February in the toolbelt. Sleep caught up with you more quickly than you expected, because your frustrated, horny brain seemed to conjure up a man that was far more to your taste. Your limbs felt odd as you sat up from the bed upon hearing a low whistle come from his lips as he stood on the other side of the room.

“This all for me?” he asked.

Black haired and leather-clad with a smile that made you squeeze your thighs together, he stalked closer to you, his tongue darting out from between his sharp teeth. His wild eyes took you in with an intensity that was nothing short of famished. He wanted to eat you alive. Finally.

Leaning back in the bed on your elbows, you gave him a confident smile as you pushed out your chest, welcoming the attention. It was your dream, after all.

His hand ghosted your arm as he picked up the magazine at your side, looking it over for a moment. Shaking his head at the centerfold, he hit it with the back of his hand as if in solidarity with your disdain. This guy, am I right? He closed it, his attention on the cover.

“Playgirl,” he read aloud, before bringing his gaze to you, an amused grin spreading across his dangerous face. “Is that what you wanna do? Play, girl?”

Girl rolled off his upturned lips in coils that wrapped around your throat, rendering you incapable of answering. Girl was demeaning, mocking, as if you didn’t have a full time job that paid for your own apartment. Girl went straight to your pussy as you nodded in response to his question.

He licked his lips, tossing Mr. February aside as he caged you onto the bed with his body. You tilted your head up to kiss him, not bothering with any pretense of testing the waters. It was your dream, and he’d kiss you back how you wanted him to, pent up and passionate with the sweetest hint of desperation. Without hesitation, he parted his lips for you, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth, the warmth and taste almost making your head spin at how real he felt. 

Still supporting yourself on your elbows, you threw a leg over his hips, pressing his body closer against yours, only exacerbating the flush of heat that’d spread across your skin. His touch made you feel like you were burning, kissed by invisible flames that left you needy for more. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away, dazed and breathless, though his lips followed yours, starving for another taste of your strawberry glossed lips. His were soft, though yours wouldn’t stay that way for long as he nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth, clearly reveling in the whimpers you barely managed to let out. You were almost disappointed when he showed you mercy and gave you a gentle kiss before drawing back.

“Goddamn, you’re something else,” he murmured.

“What about you? Who are you?” you asked, searching his face for an answer. You must have known him from somewhere, unsure if your subconscious could conjure up someone like him on its own.

“I’m the man of your dreams, baby,” he crooned. “I got the tools to give you everything you need.”

He took your hand, placing it over his crotch, his hard cock straining against his tight leather pants. Your breath caught in your throat, he certainly wasn’t exaggerating. Squeezing his erection, a jolt of electricity rushed through you at his groan, deep and unapologetically loud as he jerked his hips against your hand.

“Not so fast, baby,” he said, his smile almost mischievous, like he was letting you in on a secret. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

He hissed through his teeth when you pulled your hand away from his pants, pride bubbling in you for eliciting such a reaction from him, and over his clothes no less. Still, he wanted to take the lead, and after so much frustration on your end trying to make Mr. February fulfill something other than a wonderbread fantasy, you were more than happy to lie back and let your dream lover do the work. He shed his jacket, kicking it to the edge of the bed.

Rough hands glided across your skin, a shiver racing down your spine until he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down until he threw the garment on the other side of the room. He pushed your thighs apart, and you released a shaky breath in futile preparation for how his tongue would feel on your pussy.

He sure as hell didn’t beat around the proverbial bush, his tongue teasing your clit as he slid his index and middle fingers inside you, as if it’d at all be comparable to what you’d felt in his pants earlier. That wasn’t the point of it, though, not when he relentlessly lapped at your pussy, the sound of your own arousal on his tongue almost embarrassing you.

No one could hear it, not in a dream, so you indulged yourself, grabbing a handful of his greased hair and pulling him closer. He groaned against your sensitive cunt when you tugged on his hair, the sensation making your pussy clench.

“You like that?” you asked, your voice light as you tried not to moan out your question.

He lifted his head for a moment, a fucked out expression on his face as if you’d been giving him head and not the other way around. Your wetness glistened on his lips and chin, as he looked up at you. “Fuck yes, do it again.”

You tugged on his hair again, your fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Damn, he looked almost…pretty.

His voice was close to a growl when he praised, “Just like that, baby.”

His face disappeared between your legs again, and you choked out a gasp as he licked up your juices before bringing his attention back to your clit with a desperate pull at his disheveled locks. He held your legs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as if to steady himself as he brought you closer to orgasm.

You could’ve sworn you heard a loud bang followed by muffled screaming. It almost sounded too real to be a dream, and for the first time since this mystery man arrived in your bed, the twist in your gut wasn’t from pleasure.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice soft as it trailed off into a moan.

“Nothin’ but a good time, baby,” he answered slyly. “You just focus on me.”

With a curl of his fingers inside your wet pussy, you couldn’t do anything but whimper in response, pulling at his hair again. You struggled to keep your eyes open, and with no protest from him, allowed them to shut as pleasure crept up on you. 

Your hips bucked as he flicked his tongue on your sensitive clit, and with that you were gone. Your moan sounded almost pained to your own ears, but you’d never felt an orgasm so intense before, one that made your toes curl and your pussy ache as it clenched around his fingers. 

When you were finally able to open your eyes again, he was still eating you out, as if to see whether or not he could make you cum again on his tongue. You whimpered, sensitive and breathless as he didn’t let up. 

His name. Fuck, you didn’t even know his name, and your brain was too fuzzy to come up with anything besides an almost pathetic sounding, “Daddy.”

“Say it again, baby,” he groaned.

“Fuck daddy, more,” you pleaded.

Gripping the sheets for some kind of leverage, you came, harder this time as you let out a moan that seemed to echo throughout the room. In the back of your mind, you were wondering if you were moaning so loudly in real life. Would they wake you up? Would they even mention it?

Licking up your pussy again for good measure, he lifted his head, looking to you for your direction. Weakly, you shook your head. He smirked a bit, crawling back up to you and pressing his fingers that had been inside you against your lips which you mindlessly opened your mouth and began sucking.

His eyes were wild again as you sucked your cum from his fingers, dragging your tongue along each one as you looked at him through hooded eyelids. He pushed his fingers further back in your mouth, his knuckles brushing against your lips. 

“You think you can take more, girl?” 

Your whine was muffled from his fingers in your mouth.

“Don’t tell me I wore you out already,” he teased.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your mouth before sticking them in his own, to your shock. It didn’t last long, though, because his lips were soon on yours again. You kissed him more passively this time, considering why you felt so exhausted, as if it were real. In a dream, you’d be able to last longer despite your pent up frustration thanks to Mr. fucking February, couldn’t you?

You felt too good to question it, and brought your hand to the side of his neck, caressing the skin with your fingertips before moving them ever so slightly to squeeze gently. He moaned into your mouth, and you smiled a bit, squeezing again. Placing his hand over yours, he guided you to put more pressure, and with the way his hips jerked when you did so, you were sure he was going to cum in his tight leather pants. It was a wonder he could even move in them, even if he were just a figment of your horny subconscious.

“Aren’t you hot with all of that on?” you asked as you moved your head back slightly, noticing the sheen of sweat on your own bare skin.

He grinned. “I’m hot with it off too.”

You laughed, until you heard the screaming again, but didn’t pay it any mind. Weird things happened in dreams all the time, and you wanted this one to last as long as it could. If not, you hoped you dreamed about him again, that it wouldn’t be something you’d have a fleeting memory of when you woke up, only to forget it the moment you got out of bed.

Unfortunately, he had other plans, as it seemed like you blinked and he was standing next to the bed, fully dressed again, his hair looking like you’d never even touched it. Licking your lips, you took in his appearance. The next time you dreamed about him, maybe you’d have him do something more interesting with the leather. He cracked a grin, as if he knew what you had been thinking.

He picked up the discarded magazine, looking at it once again in amusement before throwing it into the garbage pail by the nightstand. “You’re not gonna need that anymore. Not that Mr. February was doing you any good anyway.”

“Nope,” you agreed. “It’s all you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, baby.”

You tilted your head, unsure of what to expect next. If you were lucid dreaming, couldn’t you wake yourself up? Though, you weren’t sure exactly how to do that. The clock in the room read a normal time, you knew enough that in dreams they’d be distorted. Sighing, you supposed you’d just wake up on your own naturally.

Your dream man leaned down, regarding you with a tenderness that seemed odd on him. He caressed your cheek, the cool leather of his glove giving a slight reprieve to your warm skin.

“See you tomorrow night, sweetness,” he said, giving you one last kiss before you blacked out.

You woke up, a cloud of grogginess still in your mind, a whisper of soreness in your limbs. You looked down at the wet spot on your sheets, brushing it with your fingertips and bringing them close to your nose. It smelled of you and something vaguely familiar, though as much as you wracked your brain, you couldn’t identify it. What a weird dream. At least, you thought so, until you noticed your panties on the floor, right where he’d thrown them.

[beebfreeb]

All you need

[shartfinz]

super detailed Mr. L for no reason anyway all design decisions (except for the goggles) are informed by my dad being a mechanic when I was like 0-11

[gazumirei]

AND IN A FLASH TARTAR BECAME THE WINNER OF THE RANDOMIZED TUMBLRSEXYPEOPLE TOURNAMENT

I didn't know ya'll tartar fans would pull through like this holyy shat😭

[max-the-silly-guy]

they watch magical girl animes together

[spmcomic]

[camprell-art]

Welcome to the Circus!

Count Bleck is the Ringmaster, Timpani is the Funambulist (aka the person who walks on the tightrope), Nastasia is the animal enchanter and hypnotist, Dimentio is obviously the Magician, Mimi is Dimentio's assistant and the Contortionist, (I can imagine both of them being acrobats too), O'Chunks is the also obviously Strongman and the Fire Breather and lastly but not least Mr.L is the globe of death motorcyclist!

[galaxygermdraws]

Mr L possessed me tonight so I decided to just post a bunch of Mr. L stuff. Honestly surprised I just have yet to show off the Super Dimentio design I did because I really love that thing. I think more people should incorporate Plant Horror into this game.

(relogs with tags/comments are appreciated .Asks too. Thankyuuuu)

[peachi-blossom]

Non-Hazbin Hotel characters that are better than Vaggie

I don't actually hate Vaggie that much as I do with Charlie and Alastor, I just find her character very very bland (basically Homura Akemi but bland). Like, she literally has no chemistry with the other characters, including Charlie. Vivienne Medrano is horrible at writing relationships, especially platonic and familial relationships. Not to mention her name is after a uhh you know (I immediately guess what her name is when I first saw her back when the pilot became a thing.)... Which is INCREDIBLY INSULTING TO WOMEN BECAUSE THAT JUST REINFORCES SEXISM TOWARDS THEM. Women are more than just their bodies. Vivienne Medrano is such a massive disgrace to women. No, not just women, to humanity.

One more thing I have to say, snakes are not slimy Vaggie.

[thereaderinsertlady]

Nassy made him wear the cone of shame because he kept licking his wounds like a cat. Drew this bc of @alovelylonelygoodra 's post :3

[bizabumblebee]

Don’t worry guys Jayce and Viktor are ok they’re just here

[enviousennui]

I'm going on a small trip for a few days so wanted to post a few doodles I've done in my new sketchbook!

Also, Psychonauts fans - Check out this zine

I've been using a lot more mixed supplies so far. Ohuhu markers, posca pens and coloured pencils all used together - I'm really leaning into the fun side of it instead of worrying so much about aesthetics and all that.

I will be doing more scrapbook-esque pages with tons of stuff collaged together as well, but I need to build up that sorta stuff first. What you can't see in the photos is fanta wrappers and a paper chopsticks packet.

[mscribbles]

i might make serious content at some point but this ain’t it

[legobiwan]

[sliding you a 20] do you have any thoughts on super dimentio

hoooo hooo ho ho ho ho ho ho

Yes. Many, many thoughts. Uhhhh, this got a little long. It's been a hot minute since I've been able to wax ineloquent about this topic (one of my favorite topics). It's also 3AM and I have unbelievable insomnia right now, so caveat lector and all that jazz. I'm not exactly sure what I'm writing here, but it's a lot of writing ahhahahaha.

I think it's very interesting that Count Bleck was not a vessel for the Chaos Heart, nor was Dimentio (at least initially). Bleck commanded the Heart's power and was protected by said power due to his knowledge of the Prognosticus, but the only person who could actually be a vessel for the heart was Luigi.

And why our man in green? I have a theory about the Prognosticus and its prophecies, that they were less specific than the book's wielders would have thought. After all, prophecy requires belief and thus simple statements are woven into paths of self-inflicted destiny. I don't think Luigi was the only being who could have hosted the heart, but he was, as it were, the right man for the job in the right place at the right time.

Now, let's remember that Luigi was turned into his monster form before Dimentio merged with him and Chaos Heart. Dimentio didn't have to do that. He absolutely could have pulled a Bleck and just puppeteered monster!Luigi around while enjoying the benefits of the Chaos Heart's protective shield. But he chose to merge with the Heart and with Luigi. To gain more power? Or just for the lulz? I'm tempted to say that Dimentio only thought this through partway, that his "spicy concoction" was a bit of improv that would reap eventual benefits that he might not have realized at the time.

And what would those benefits be? Well, let's think about this. The Chaos Heart is essentially an immortal force that can't be destroyed, only delayed. Now that Luigi and Dimentio merged with heart, this means all those atoms went into the metaphysical blender and now there's a bit of the Chaos Heart in Luigi and Dimentio (and a bit of Dimentio in Luigi and vice-verse), all of which has fascinating implications.

Because, if you have even a part of an immortal force that's now part of you - what does that do to your own mortality? I'm pretty convinced the only reason Luigi isn't dead at the end of SPM is the Chaos Heart. (And Dimentio might be in the Underwhere, but if Luigi survived, then Dimentio isn't 100% done, either). And this begs the question, then - can Luigi die? Will he age naturally after this whole event? I have...some definite opinions on this that I don't want to reveal quite yet (I will get back to writing once this stupidly busy semester is finally over), but I do think it's fitting that the man who deals with the undead on the regular might just have a little bit of paranormal going on himself.

And that doesn't even touch the idea that Luigi may have inherited a bit of Dimentio's magic (and madness, possibly). (Okay, so I do love the idea of Luigi just snapping his fingers one day and a box appearing out of nowhere. Just...the angst possibilities are so, so delicious. Yes, this might happen in one of my stories. :D

But getting back to Super Dimentio...I wonder how conscious Luigi was for that whole episode. My thought is that he was not so much in the driver's seat, not due to the Chaos Heart, but due to the Floro Sprout stripping away all of his free will. (Which means Luigi never actually made a decision, as written in the Prognosticus and is another reason I firmly believe the whole drama with the Chaos Heart and Dimentio is so not resolved at the end of SPM). You have to ask - if Dimentio had managed to get Luigi to join his side of his own free will (and I think he could have made that happen, if he had had more time to manipulate Luigi) - would Luigi have been able to control his monster form? Survey says (survey of one, that is) "yes."

And poor Mario throughout all of this. You have to figure that the moment he caught sight of his brother in that form, Luigi dead in his mind. And this is why, unlike Mr. L, I think Mario would have no guilt about destroying Super Dimentio. Luigi, at that point, was gone.

Except he wasn't, as we know. And now Mario has to come to terms with the fact that he twice tried to kill his little brother, because the only way to save the world was to destroy the one person who meant everything to him. And he would never do that. And didn't. Because Luigi was dead the moment that monster appeared. But Luigi wasn't dead. And this is what Mario shoves far, far down into the deepest recesses of his consciousness. He never wants to think about that battle again, he can't stop himself from seeing that terrible image every time he lays eyes on his brother once they're back in the Mushroom Kingdom.

And Luigi? He knows something is off. Mario is acting weird. Luigi himself feels weird and he can't quite place what the issue is, what that itch in the back of his brain is trying to tell him. Why he tends to tilt his head at any question, why his laugh has gained a sharpened edge, why that little voice that always told him to be careful, you could get hurt is quieter than it has been in years.

The day he greets Mario with a lilting "Ciao," a word foreign on his tongue no matter what his last name might suggest otherwise - that's the day it clicks.

That's the night he finds his brother passed out on the couch, two empty bottles of Mushroom wine toppled on their sides.

That's the night Luigi packs his bag and walks out the front door in search of answers.

[gazumirei]

WELCOME TO FINAL ROUND OF RANDOMIZED TUMBLRSEXYPEOPLE

Reposting what I said earlier again

Note: this tournament isn't about how hot or strong the characters are, this is just Acknowledging characters that aren't really Viewed as tumblr sexypeople and obscure characters on the sexypedia, also I just wanted to add some of my faves to a poll because I'm mentally ill☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

This tournament isn't about how hot/Attractive or how popular or power the character isThis tournament is mainly just putting the spotlight on lesser known characters that are officially deemed as a tumblrsexyperson,(according to the sexypedia, a wiki dedicated to documenting and cataloging different kinds of characters that fall under the label of tumblrsexyperson.) Or just obscure characters that are not really recognized as sexymen by the mainstreamAlso please don't get mad that a favorite character of yours isn't in this tournament, i either don't know who your fave is or they're not on the sexypedia. This tournament is just for fun and not competition so please don't start fights with people that don't share the same opinion as you.Ok I'm done yapping :p

[max-the-silly-guy]

Marlon after his husband destroys manglewood and doesnt come back a day later and yell out "JUST KIDDING IM NOT EVIL OR POSSESSED" but instead invades bunkum lagoon and kicks the queen from power and attempts to commit mass genocide