#this fic was so nice to read <3< /div>
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amogus-real-not-clickbait · 13 days ago
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part 1 of a little comic / art sequence that i've been working on! :D it's part tribute, part experimenting with brushes n colors and trying new thingz :]
| 1 | 2 | ... |
and thus continues my endless quest of spreading the carrot fics like a plague! if you've seen my art floating around you probs already figured that this au holds a very special place in my heart, forever and always!!
if you haven't heard of it, it's a fic series by @crowned-ladybug called carrot soup!! it made me wish i could speak colors and i need more people to share my struggle xd
go check it out if you're into sweet voice lore and qpr level gayness and just wanna feel warm and soft and warm (hurt/comfort my beloved) <333 there are some heavier themes cos everyone's traumatized but they're working through it! be sure to check the tags and stay safe! <3
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c-kiddo · 6 months ago
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its not even fully canon but 1 thing that immediately breaks my immersion when i read a fanfiction on occasion is when people write the clays as like having lots of separate rooms in their house. like i dont think they have a dining room. i dont think they have a dining room table with chairs like a suburban family. i dont think all of the kids have their own rooms. and even if that ends up being the case in the animated show then itll still be wrong
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lukazade · 10 days ago
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If I had a nickel for every time I drew my favs getting a nice little sleep in a warm comfy place I would have.... maybe too many nickels.
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jadecantcreate · 1 month ago
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in the whitchlite carinval. straight up “caking it.” and by “it”, haha, well. lets justr say. My chad
(some gideon exploration & little doodles)
#ok i think i might be obsessed with freeform#its just…so low stakes yk?#and very simple#idk its nice to use for little things like this#it was supposed to be some ideas for day 18 of loa shiptober (tattoo artist/florist)#but i got sidetracked#what can i say#gideon lovers (cough cough dragon cough) enjoy your mans <3#i really like how the half body shot came out#gideons body type is so nice to draww idk why?#i definitely draw too many skinny ppl (i love you kremy but you’re literally built like a wine glass) so i enjoy some more variety i guess#conflicted over how the portrait came out#do i like it? do i not like it? who knows…what a mystery….certainly not me……..#i should probably draw torbek frost and gricko more#but my mind is preoccupied with middle aged man yaoi#speaking of middle aged man yaoi…….#ive embraced the cringe within (its dead! if youre not hurting anyone do what you want!!)#and written my second coalecroux fic (shoutout to my beloved mutual szare for beta reading it!!!!) and im in the process of polishing it up#so….stay tuned……#will probably draw a Specific Scene (tm) because im proud of it like a toddler is proud of their silly cute crayon scribbles on the wall#ALSO#thank you to the person who pointed out to me that gideon doesnt actually canonically have uneven horns its just hair#i have elected to adopt the uneven horns thing regardless because IMPERFECTIONS RAHHH#theyre more fun to draw for me#ok ill stop rambling now#thanks for reading <3#once upon a witchlight#legends of avantris#gideon coal#ouaw
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tennessoui · 2 months ago
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it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏
#there’s a threshold I think of what I accept in comments about characters#and their actions or about who is in the wrong or what should happen#because I do like reading people’s opinions#and sometimes when someone is like I didn’t like obi-wan in this fic#I’m like makes sense! maybe you weren’t supposed to or maybe the argument they had was supposed to not be clear cut on who is right#because arguments in real life don’t always have a clear cut winner or morally superior person lmao#I’m ok with that I’m ok with comments saying boo this character is annoying#because sometimes they just are (eg the amount of people who just don’t like obiwan in pbatmb like?? yeah of course he’s not gonna be nice#but I digress lol#anyway but there’s a threshold of when comments about not liking a character go too far and you’re just like.#saying mean things about the writing itself and that’s not something lm gonna allow to be normalized#no matter the intention behind it#you do not type a comment like this knowing it wil be send to an author#who will get an email notification about a comment#click on it and go oooo long comment :D and then go oh.#you don’t do that it’s rude it’s being a jerk#I’ve been here for like 3 almost 4 years I feel ancient in this fandom sometimes#and I’ve gotten so much feedback on my work through that time and so many nice comments and community#but mean comments can really hurt especially new writers#and they can make people who maybe would write fic for a fandom decide to not#like this isn’t even that mean I can almost see the writer just wanting to say how they feel#but sometimes you do not have to 🙏#also I just think this understanding of the characterizations in the fic and probably their understanding of the characters in the films#is a wee bit trash but that’s for me to say in the long tags of my own blog post and not for me to comment on their fics for the fandom#(they don’t have any but I did check because 3am kit felt nosy)
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sweetsuo · 3 months ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬
Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader
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Cw. afab!reader. Cheating. Infidelity. Dacryphilia. Temperature play. Burning. Fingering. Smoking.
 Genre. [ fic. Smut. See tags for notes.] You're Megumi's girlfriend and his father is not someone you thought you'd catch the eye of in the kitchen.
Wc. 3.6k
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This was fucked up. It was fucked up and you knew it was. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it’s the only way your heart squeezed in that sickeningly pleasant way – the only reason you wanted to sleep over any more.
You looked up at him, eyes dancing over the serenity in his features. Handsome. Somehow boyish in the length of his lashes and the way his lips parted in a slight laugh. He made you feel like an endangered animal – preciously encaged for safety and sanctuary yet never letting you see home again.
Your breath fluttered and you were completely certain he could hear the way your heart swirled in your eardrums. It was evident in the way his head tilted slightly as his deep gray-blue eyes went from your chest, to your lips, to yours eyes. You held your breath, rolled your lip between your teeth, and averted your eyes.
The tile of the kitchen floor was cold against your bare feet and Megumi’s shirt was big enough to graze your knees. The chill of the counter against the side of your hand reminded you of everything outside of the one in front of you.
“W-what?”
“Can I have the milk?”
Toji leaned his hip on the black marble countertop, hand laying over yours on the cardboard milk carton as he took it from you. It was a slight graze of a touch, but you felt the calluses of his fingers trickle across the delicate skin of the back of your hand. You repressed a shudder. Your chin dipped down. Your hand let go of the carton.
“Thanks. What’re you doing up so late, Princess? Gumi kick you off the bed again?”
You felt the warmth of his body as he shifted, bicep grazing onto your upper arm as he poured the milk into the coffee. The nickname always peeved Megumi in a way he couldn’t fully explain. You would reassure him it was fine, it’s just because his dad was a dick. Toji said it was because Megumi spoiled you.
“No,“ you watched as black espresso turned to a pretty caramel. Suddenly your tea wasn’t as appetizing anymore. For a moment your brows furrowed and you were aware that it was 3:15am, “why are you drinking coffee?”
Toji laughed. It’s deep and gruff and sounds like tires over a gravel driveway. This time you can’t suppress the shudder. It’s been this way since Toji came back from his business trip. You never met him up until the last semester. At least not in person. He was usually away. Megumi never knew what he did or how he afforded the house. 
Either way, whenever classes let up or between semesters, you’d come to his suburban home and basically live with him. You loved Megumi very much and you have for the year and a half you’ve been dating. You’d kiss him goodbye whenever you left to see your parents, but there was something about his dad that kept you coming back.
Maybe it was the first night you woke up in the middle of the night. Megumi had kicked you off the bed by accident. There was only so much room for two 20-years-olds and a large dog. It was bound to happen one day or another. It was simply unfortunate that you scraped your arm on a bent piece of metal from his bed frame, leaving a long scratch that pebbled red. You traversed down the steps and having forgotten your glasses on the nightstand, had to rummage through the drawers to find a band aid.
Toji was there, leaning on a counter by the sink, gazing out the window. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco lingered despite the open air. At first, your throat cinched around your thumping heart. You thought he was an intruder. You couldn’t see his features, but the way the moon abstractly bounced off them, you immediately knew who he was just by shape. Megumi got his good looks from someone and that someone was right in front of you.
“You’re bleeding,” he stated blandly, only taking a second to look at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I am?” You knew you were. That’s why you had your arm up like an injured paw and a hand in a drawer full of homeless kitchen appliances, “I am.”
“So you are,” he chuckled. Toji stood at full height and you swore you nearly gasped. The corner of his scarred mouth curled then flattened as he turned to you. He grabbed a paper towel, fingers grasping onto the tips of yours. His palm was warm, soft, tender on the flesh of your arm. The paper towel pressed to provide a temporary fix as he guided you along to the bathroom to pull out a bandage.
You remember every moment of that night; how the sink felt pressing against the small of your back and how his thigh leaned almost too heavily onto yours as he meticulously took care of the minor cut. In his defense, the bathroom was small – one of the ones that fit awkwardly under a staircase and only had a toilet and a sink. It didn’t excuse the way his hand brushed your hair back when everything was settled. You still felt guilty that you tilted your chin to better feel the backs of his fingers against your neck.
For as often as you felt guilty, soon to follow was an echo of his parting words.
“Mr. Fushiguro takes care of his guests – especially Gumi’s Princess.” His smile was strangely sweet when he exited the bathroom, leaving you to collect your staggered breath.
It was that night, and plenty of nights after, that you woke Megumi up by putting his hand on your cunt and asking if daddy could take care of you. The kisses he’d press to your forehead lingered warmly, lovingly. Bitterly.
Brought back by the metallic thwip of a bic lighter, Toji cupped his hand to the flame, lighting the cherry cigarette you would smell when you were lonely in your dorm. It overpowered the familiar scent of eucalyptus you’d once loved.
“For the same reason everyone drinks coffee,” He laughed once through his nose, expression slackening as his gaze lingered on yours. He dragged on the cigarette and exhaled for longer than usual. The swirl of smoke passing over the curve of his lips was beautiful. He quirked a brow, curiously entertained, “Withdrawal?”
You dry swallowed. He offered you the cigarette with an offhand comment you couldn’t quite hear. The end of the cig faced you and you leaned, wrapping your lips around it. The subtle graze of his fingers on your lips tickled. You never smoked before. Through thick lashes, your gazes met and you swore something passed over his. You sucked. You coughed. You secretly loved the taste of burnt cherry.
“That’s not how you do it,” his voice was dark navy and for a moment, as small tears welled from the remaining spasm of your lungs, you thought he would scold you for lying. Hushed, he pressed the cigarette back to your lips, “Try again.”
Obediently, your lips found their way around the stick. You had Toji’s attention on you in the same way a starling bird had a peregrine falcon’s. You felt wanted by something hungry.
You waited patiently for his order, looking up to him with those pretty, expectant eyes. You barely noticed his hand slowly pulling the cigarette. Your lips stayed connected. He felt your breath fan the backs of his fingers.
“Are you going to suck it, or what?” There was a bite to his voice and you took a long, nervous drag. The crackling burning paper filled the space between you. You tried to inhale it all and the burn made your eyes water. Toji’s head tilted by a minuscule as your lips detached, leaving a small string of saliva attached to the end. Bleary eyes matched his, desiring his approval. His free hand cupped your cheek, giving a slight tap, “I’m not going to spoil you like Megumi does, Princess.”
Strong hands grabbed under the thickest part of your thighs, hoisting you up and onto the cold marble counter. Megumi’s shirt was disregarded and hiked up to the crease of your hip. The hiss of hot ash sprinkled on your thighs matched the heady hiss your tongue made against teeth. Toji smirked. The burn was replaced by his rough hands smoothing over the supple flesh. He gripped your ass, hauling you to the edge of the counter.
This was wrong.
Your heart throbbed in your chest and even more between your legs. Your Thighs squeezed together as Toji leaned into your neck, biting hard. His thumbs dug into the junction of your thigh and hip, keeping you sat firmly on the counter top.
Megumi was upstairs.
Toji’s mouth trailed down your neck as the tips of his fingers traced up along bare skin. You could feel him smirk against your neck. Surely the warmth of his lips could feel how fast the blood pumped through you. You felt light headed, impatient for the touch of his chilled fingers. The man before you nudged his cheek onto yours and you felt the subtle graze of his spudding 5 o’clock shadow.
He said nothing, but you heard the change his breathing. Hiis middle finger slipped between your glossy lips - the touch was so cold, you gasped and your cunt clenched on nothing at all. The pad of his middle finger moved slowly in a circle, then traced down. It was so slow that your body writhed for more. To try and coax the digit in, your entrance throbbed. He headed to call to its beck. Rather than satiate your starving sex, Toji brushed up to your clit. Totally in control of you, his fingers dance in cruel repetition.
His spare hand trailed up your torso, pulling his son’s shirt up to expose you bit by bit. The shirt never came off, no. It’s not like he needed it to when you wore nothing underneath it. He’d be lying if he didn’t notice how your nipples perked and your stance shifted when he entered the kitchen. He felt your eyes on his back when he opened the fridge. Deliberately (and with the goodness in his heart), he allowed your longing gaze to linger on him. It was laughable that you were pressing your bare chest into the palm of his hand, The tissue malleable and molten under his touch. It was euphoric. You gave into his touch so desperately.
Toji’s grin widened, Cheshire-like against you. His breath was hot against your ear and the baritone of his voice was enough to make you swallow a whine, “Maybe Gumi doesn’t spoil his Princess like I thought. You’re really this cock hungry? I barely touched you,” his finger tapped on your swollen clit and you jerked in response, curling forward and trembling digit gripping onto his impossibly tight shirt. Practically on the brink of tears from the way he teased you, you wondered how hands so cold could feel like they burned like the ash on your thighs.
Fuck. Fuck.  
The hands gripping his shirt slapped the cold counter when you pulled your torso away to back on your forearms. Your brows knit and your chin tilted back. Megumi’s shirt draped over your tits like fine silk. What a fucking delicious sight. Desperate. That’s exactly how you looked with your nose scrunched and lips drawn in a tight line. Your fists were balled and legs spread wide, separated by his body. He admired that the first thing spilled on the freshly installed black marble was the drool of your cunt.
Toji persisted despite the painful ache of his cock. He wanted you to grovel for him, prove his suspicion that his son lacked the same skill to make you a drooling mess. Why? The answer was simple instinct to him. The aftermath of his divorce left him in shambles. But then again, papers were filed the second he fucked his sister-in-law on wifey’s new BMW (and doubled down on when she found the recording of him with the couple’s therapist). Validation, maybe. He had nothing to prove or no need for it. He just wanted to know that he could fuck anyone he wanted anywhere he wanted, no matter who they were.
You opened your mouth to scream in frustration. Your legs shook, every part of your body wanted something to fill you. Empty. Empty fucking. Empty satisfaction. The slap was followed by the sound of skittering upstairs.
You paled and your heart threatened to burst with anxiety. Complete silence took over the kitchen and your mind emptied, listening for the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s footsteps. Eyes looked over your shoulder and suddenly you were very aware of the fact that every entrance leading to the kitchen was an open walkway.
The man between your legs had paused then, lips slack as he listened. He had good hearing. Good senses. His fingertips sprawled on top of your mound, palm pressing against your fluttering entrance absent-mindedly. It was merely the dog. He trained it to only bark or alert of certain triggers. This was certainly not one of them. Your reaction though- he could work with that.
His fingers circled your clit and you feared he would continue his cruel tease. Toji could see through your expression like the Bermuda seas. He leaned forward, hand slowly tipping over your entrance as his words filled your mind, “What happens if you’re caught?”
Your breathing stopped completely. Dread, excitement, and two long digits filled you. Just as you had expected, every second of teasing coated your walls. Every nerve ending had been meticulously prepared for something to touch them, trigger them to ignite. Your walls spasmed readily and your knees gripped the sides of Toji’s hips. He experimented with you for a while, salivating when tears pinched past your lashes. In the back of his mind, he needed you to break before you got his cock. He was getting slightly impatient. His hands were cold and you could feel every single motion of his fingers in you. Your mind could paint a picture of every ridge his digits had to offer simply from his temperature.
He leaned over. His tongue was hot. With a single broad, strong, and long open-mouthed lap along your clit, you unwound. A free hand slapped over your mouth, muffling the near animalistic yowl you let out. He smirked.
Bet Megumi never heard that sound.
As soon as your walls slowed and your voice died out, Toji shoved the band of his sweats under his cock. He could tell by your blissed out glaze that you weren’t entirely processing what was to come. He could fix that.
Hands pulled you half-way off the counter. You yelped, shivering at the slick on the surface beneath you. Toji held you under your knees, practically forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. He cooed, “Good girl.” The way you stared at his cock like it were god itself had a dribble of precum roll down his length. A bare minimum of 8-9 inches stood at attention, positioned right under you. Your arousal drizzled over him and if your mind worked, you would’ve offered to lick it off like one would a warm sugar glaze.
He adjusted his arms so that the underneath of your thighs were supported by his hands and your knees hooked over his arms. Your own arms wobbled and shook. The muscle ache was blunted by his thick tip pressing onto your entrance. You had no option but to give him the reins. His focus was entirely on the junction between his tanned cock pressing into you. It was almost endearing, how this look of fascination came over his harsh features, enrapturing your gaze like a renaissance painting.
He guided your hips in a circle, bending his knees slightly to swirl against you. The scar at the corner of his lip twitched in gratification when you throatily let out a long high note. He lowered you onto him in bit by bit. Slight thrust in. Draw back. Slight thrust in. Draw back.
Every. Single. Time. He drew out, you wanted to cry out. You could take it. Toji continued to carefully make his way into you. He was large and he learned from mistakes of drilling in too soon. Sure, he slipped in easy enough, but he still met resistance to the stretch. He didn’t want to hurt you. Or at least that was until you opened your pretty mouth.
“Stop fucking around. I can take Gumi’s dick, I can take yours.”
Your lips formed into a pout and the words backhanded his ego. So this is what Megumi dealt with. Oh no, he couldn’t have that. You were obviously trying to get a rise out of him like the brat you were. Toji darkly chuckled, “So this is what’s got him around your finger, huh? You want me to ‘stop fucking around’?”
He pulled your right leg across his chest so that it rested along his left shoulder. The left leg was guided around his waist. “By your command, Princess.” He thrust in hard, shoving his cock through the tightness. The pace was relentless. Harsher, meaner, heavier than even Megumi’s was at his roughest. Your mind erased the fact that you were in the kitchen of a house. It erased the fact that your arms felt like they were going to tear. It erased the sweat under your palms as you white-knuckled the edge of the marble. It erased Megumi, peacefully asleep upstairs.
All you felt was the hot vibration of your clambering walls and the searing hot brand of his cock burning into your core. Everything fuzzed, scattered with every near full pull, then came crashing back with every push. The position itself allowed for the force of your own weight to freely bounce back on him without him needing to do much. He still gripped your limbs with such force there would be bruises.  He wrapped your other leg around his waist patting your thighs to grip him as he changed his thrusts to slow, deep. Toji peeled off the shirt, a glisten to his every muscle under the dim light as it reached over his head. Arms were up high as it was shimmied off, but his thrusts were controlled. Abs worked, tensed in a motion so beautiful that you were absolutely certain that this was and would be your only religious experience.
The shirt hit the floor. Toji licked his thumb. The palm of his hand rested along your pubic bone, tilted so that he could graze your clit in such a gentle, yet effective way that you reeled. You bucked with him, using your legs to draw him in more until you felt a sharp pleasure rake your cervix, claw down the up-side of your walls. He dragged out. He thrust in.
He was close and was grappling for why the hell it was taking you so long. He felt how you squeezed his cock over and over. Your breathing slowed whenever it happened and there was a certain flicker going off in your half-lidded gaze. Your walls got tighter each time, but never released. For once in his life, Toji Fushiguro thought he had met his match in stamina. There was a click of his tongue, “What the fuck are you waiting for? Are you a dog? Only can cum on command, bitch?” His words came from annoyance and impatience.
You nodded.
Trained her like a bitch, didn’t you?
“Cum.”
There was finally release. The hot iron brandish pressed hard into your walls, your abdomen, your throat. Your walls shuddered so violently, Toji nearly lost grip. A beat behind you, his cock thrusts jerked. You’re mouth opened with a silent moan, all muscles tensing in response. Hot. He was hot and fast and you felt each rope melt along your walls and drip off.
Pulling out his softened cock, Toji looked to the dark tile ground beneath you coated in a mix of a translucent glaze and thick white. He took mercy on you then, leaning and looping an arm under your back and pulling you to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and for a sprinkle of a second he could see what Megumi saw. One hand held you up under your ass while the other pulled his sweats up. The house was quiet once more as he grabbed paper towels to clean you up.
After all was said and done, Toji sat on the couch with you on his lap, nestled into the crook of his neck. His hand supported your back as you sniffled your way back to the present day. He wasn’t great at aftercare and if he were being honest, any quick fuck had ended when he came (which was usually last). He was indifferent to the sniffles and indifferent to the way you made little sounds of comfort to yourself. You were doing what you needed to to keep yourself together. If that included reliving each moment Megumi placed a loving hand to your cheek and cooed at how well you did, then so be it. Who you craved at the end of the night wasn’t him. 
Toji wasn’t one to be possessive - yet he rubbed small circles on your back, believing that he could be. 
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feroluce · 3 months ago
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Randomly consumed today by the thought of henghill cuddles, but like from a specific point in their relationship, like after they've only recently started laying in the same bed together.
It's something that takes them a long time to work up to; they both have nightmares, and yeah, Dan Heng is a Vidyadhara and he can heal himself beyond anything Boothill could accidentally do to him, but still. Boothill is made of metal now. He's heavy. It wouldn't take much, just a single flailing limb to cause some damage. He still gets up after Dan Heng falls asleep, and sneaks down into the guest cabin in one of the other cars.
But he'll lay in bed with Dan Heng until then. At first Boothill would always try to situate a blanket between them, because well. Metal isn't exactly pleasant to cuddle. But more and more lately, he's noticed Dan Heng keeps worming his way around their soft barrier and just kind of...rubbing his hand along him? Open palm up the curve of his side, across the planes of his chest, into the star-shape at his solar plexus, down the plates of his abdomen, back to his side again. Fingertips tap soundlessly against metal, or press into dents and divots, or smooth over old scars in the steel.
"Ya don't hav'ta do that, ya know."
"Does it bother you?"
Dan Heng's hand has already stopped, settling somewhere on the futon, neutral ground. Boothill clarifies that no, it doesn't bother him. But he can't feel any of it. He only knows he's doing it because he can see the motion out of the corner of his eye. Dan Heng doesn't need to go through the extra effort to do things for him like he would someone with a normal human body.
And Dan Heng goes quiet, just long enough that Boothill gets curious and turns to look at him over his shoulder. He has the cute little furrow between his brows, like when he's thinking.
And then he opens that pretty mouth of his and says, "That's alright, I think I'm doing it for myself, anyway" and Boothill nearly wheezes because wow, Dan Heng is almost never quite that honest when it comes to himself fdklsajlkd
Boothill cackles in surprise and asks point blank what he means, because what could he be getting out of that? Given the implied permission, Dan Heng's hand starts it's usual route again. Side, chest, solar plexus, abdomen, side. Boothill can practically hear him chewing on his words.
"I like that you're warm," is what he finally says, and Boothill suddenly feels like a bullet has just grazed something vital. "All the processes you run increase your temperature," Dan Heng's hand fans out across a span of steel and he holds it there, like he's soaking up the heat. "And your metal is smooth, it feels pleasant to touch," his fingertips move in circles, slip into a divot perfectly sized, rub back and forth. Boothill silently wills one of his cooling fans threatening to open up to stay closed.
"I like how you feel under my hands. That's all." Headshot! No recovery possible.
"...Suit yerself, then," and Boothill quickly turns back over before Dan Heng can see it in his face, how close he just hit to his heart.
#honkai star rail#henghill#bootheng#hsr dan heng#hsr boothill#pardon me I read a really really good porno this morning and was feeling inspired fjdklasjfkld#Look soft fuzzy super plush things are my faves- but nice smooth metal is so so nice too.#you know those fidget toys that are silky smooth material and they just have like a perfect little divot to rub the pad of your thumb into?#that's the kind of thing I'm getting at.#plus. plus!!#Dan Heng seems to dislike the cold. And we see why in 2.4 when he comments that the Shackling Prison is as cold as he remembers it.#And Dan Heng sleeps in the archive for a reason. he likes the sense of security in there.#it's a huge deal for him after being so violently hunted for so long#and I love the thought that Boothill reminds him of that. He's warm and he whirs and he's made of metal like some of the machinery in there#Dan Heng likes that regardless of whether he realizes why or not.#he likes to touch him. he just likes how he feels <3#and I think that would be something important to Boothill too because like. I don't think he HATES his body or anything.#but he didn't exactly get it under happy circumstances. and he does consider his human body as a toll that had to be paid.#he refers to any malfunctions as frightening to other people in one of his parlor car lines.#he refers to himself as a man already dead.#So I think it would hit a little harder than Boothill's prepared for to hear Dan Heng not only doesn't mind but even likes his body as it i#they're so sweet I love them so much uweh#hsr#dan heng#boothill#my fics
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nonsense-is-everywhere · 5 months ago
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Being silly.
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SIKE! THIS WAS AN AD FOR MY NEW FIC THE WHOLE TIME. Boy I had you fooled. Anywho, here’s the summary along with the tags.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: SMG3 & SMG4 (SuperMarioGlitchy4)
Characters: SMG4 (SuperMarioGlitchy4), SMG3 (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Mr. Puzzles (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Bob Bobowski (SMG4), Fishy Boopkins (SMG4), Meggy Spletzer (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Tari (SuperMarioGlitchy4), Luigi (Nintendo)
Additional Tags: Little Mr. Puzzles is very important to me, Cannon typical shenanigans, SMG34 if you squint, Relationships aren't the focus tho, Takes place in the middle of the Puzzlevision movie, Little Puzzles is like 11 to me and will be written as such, May have projected my adhd onto him a tad, No beta we die like Axol did, Angst, Relatively new to the fandom, Anon is on because I'm a nervous person, The SMGs and Mini Puzzles are the main focus
Summary:
SMG4 and 3 escape one channel, just to be hit completely off track and fall into a seemingly endless void.
After meeting the floor, they find themselves in a room with a shadow like memory of a child, who is ecstatic to have finally made some friends.
If you’ve been wanting to see more Mini Puzzles centered fics like me, then consider reading.
And as much as I like thinking of interactions between Mini Puzzles and Mr. Puzzles, they won’t be seeing each other in the fic for a while 😔
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cryscendo · 6 months ago
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Fic: Amantium irae: a quarrel of lovers
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“If you want to be loved, love.”
Read Amantium irae, or “the royalty au”, on ao3!
HQ Version of Cover Art
Summary: Kurt never had his sights on being king, but it was always something of an inevitability. He would one day become king of Merula, and that day was approaching faster than he liked to admit. In that, his father insists on him taking a personal knight — something that he had always protested.
When his knight, Blaine Anderson, enters his life, he finds that things become much more conflicting than they once were. The prince finds himself having to navigate being a ruler and letting someone in that he never imagined that he would want around.
Art: Alice / @warblercore @mistyintherivers
Rating: E (for later chapters)
close ups of the cover art under the cut!
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laesas · 1 year ago
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RamKing + Venus Flytrap || by kinnbig
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grahamcore · 2 years ago
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if you’ve read a metric ton of fanfiction and had your memory of canon retroactively altered you may be entitled to financial compensation
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shesmore-shoebill · 2 months ago
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putting maybe an unreasonable amount of thought into the logistical question of "why is no one else coming into the greenroom during this fic and why are they sure of that" considering the amount of fics (that i fucking love) that have people fully fucking in said greenroom that i would have never, in my life, questioned the logistics for.
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naranja-301 · 2 months ago
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I HAD NO IDEA THIS COULD HAPPEN!
So many people interacting on my twitter I feel a bit overwhelmed so...HI GUYS HOW ARE YA?? XD
So like, after doing this I think in the possibility of Fiddleford interacting with some of the other Stans of a different era so...yeah.
I'm not gonna make this a long (lier btch) thing bc 1, my brain is tired and 2 out of much ideas BUT I still want to write this idea I have.
Scenario: Fidds it's feeling tired, he was working to much, even more with the appear of all this Stanleys because of the new copy machine he and Ford made. And sure, the other Stans noticed the tiredness of the farm man, specially one with a colorfull Red and purple suit. Even with all the inner toughs that are troubling the con man, he tries to offer help…at least a bit.
Fidds is on his way to his room, his hair messy and with some eyeshadowns below his eyes, he worked for a couple of days with Ford about how they can return the efect of the machine bc this one alike the photocopy cannot erase the clones via water. Ford excused this because "any time he slipped and dropped some of his coffee on the clones he made of himself the clone dropped down" but then understood that yeah, maybe that would be more convenient than just not being able to erase them when no longer needed.
while opening the door of his room he can remenber well how Stanley make his way to him, talking in a nervious voice and trembling hands how when "looking" at the machine all these clones of himself came out one be one and he had no idea how to stop it but break it, now he was out, sended be Ford to look at replacements to fix the machine and meanwhile figure out how to return all Stanleys to their era, or just get rid of them.
He lays on his bed, leaving a tired sigh, hands on his stomac looking at the ceiling.
He was about to close his eyes and get some sleep but them he hears a knock from the door, it sounds soft, almost like if the person on the other side was doubting to do it and that coughs the attentions of Fiddleford, who with a groan stands up from his bed and walks to the door, opening it and meeting with one of the Stans, the one that tried to sell him some "rip-offs", leaning on the corner of the door and looking at his side, a bit unconfortable with his hand on the neck of his shirt.
"You...eh...you ok?"
It was kind of surprising see the man that talked to him with such a confident and even a bit cocky attitude talking with him with such a low, almost wipered voice. but sure Fiddleford noticed the unconford and tension in it and he could only think than damn, sinse many time Stan felt that inconfort to even get a bit close to anyone? to feel like he could be in danger if he made a step foard and just...show he cared?
"yeah, I'm ok, just...a bit tire' is all..."
There is an akward silence after that, none of them seemed to dare to talk, one because of the insecurity and doubt of keep talking and the other because of the fatigue he felt.
Fiddleford was about to talk again when some words that that Stankey said shutted his mouth.
"Want a massage?"
"what now?"
"that if you- agh....that if you want a massage...you are here because of me isn't it?...Can I...help a bit?"
That sure is...a proposition. A massage? at the mention of the offer Fiddleford could feel even more the pain on his back and shoulders, his body craving for relaxation and rest after so much work.
He is about to answer when his mind stops in track because the one who is asking him for it is Stanley but not his Stanley, it would be ok to allow this "stranger" aproach to him? even if it was for something so maybe odd or maybe simple thing as a massage?
"...I think...that would be nice. Thanks Stanley"
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emily-mooon · 6 months ago
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Noticed there wasn’t a ton of photocheer fanart and I wanted to change that (which why isn’t there more these two dorks are so cute together!!!!)
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messy-and-bi · 20 days ago
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Step 1: find a longfic to read
Step 2: spend 3 consecutive nights up late reading 180+K of Kalluzeb WiP
Step 3: use almost all 10k characters of the AO3 comment box to tell the author how good the story is
Step 4: profit come to Tumblr and rec the fic. It's The Monsters Amongst Us by RedGecko7 (SnippyFox4). You're welcome.
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sexynetra · 10 months ago
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Guess who wrote a fic loosely based on this video 🤭
Thank you @thecollectionsof for encouraging me <333
“You trust me, don’t you?” Dawn smiled hopefully — a dazzling grin that had Amanda’s brain shorting out.
She did trust Dawn. More than she trusted anyone in the world.
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