#mar's stuff

[lastknownstatus-alive]

whatever, idc anymore - woe, dragons be upon ye

bonus:

[marcenning]

finally got around to completing this lineart comm for my good friend @blymathin-cove

feat. the beautiful O Sol!April, who belongs to blymi + @elitesheepi - art of the au can be found here and its fics here and here

[ivararara]

NEW YEARS SMOOCH WITH AMIR!!

[kissyghosty]

i understand halloween was 5 days ago but someone asked for some halloween fluff so i must provide

insp by a prompt on the server!

[ao3 link]

Simon has to repeatedly tell Soap no, he can’t use Ghost’s good knives for something like this. While they’d be in familiar territory to their original use, this is…different. Something that doesn’t require such deadly efficiency and sharp edges.

Still, Soap sets into the hapless target with a gusto that would make the old Ghost proud, if not somewhat terrified. “Have at ‘em, love.” He grunts, turning away as Johnny sets out to complete his task. Something about a “masterpiece” is mumbled by Soap, but Ghost is already plopping down on the worn-in couch with a glass

He looks around as the tell-tale sounds of knives plunging in and ripping out chunks takes over the apartment. A bookshelf full of plants. A pile of haphazardly-stacked books. Grow lights. Halloween decor that is totally meant for the holiday being near and not because Ghost and Soap like the looks of it year-round, meaning it’s left out. Miscellaneous sizes and shapes of terrariums dot any spare space left, which Johnny insisted on having far too many of because “at least you don’t need to remember to water them!”

Miss Catty is curled up on one of the shelves next to a grow light. Her tail flicks at random intervals, though her eyes stay closed. Simon is sure that if he were to check, she’d be purring fiercely. The grow lights let off a comfortable amount of warmth and their cat eagerly took advantage of it. Simon takes a moment to mull over his actions before quietly clicking his tongue.

The (rather huge) black Maine Coon’s yellow eyes open as if inside a void. Over the sounds of Johnny’s work, Ghost can hear her faintly trill as she stretches luxuriously before hopping down to wander over to the couch with him. She makes herself at home in his lap, taking up nearly all the space on his thighs. He can’t quite find it in himself to be bothered as his strokes down her back rhythmically and repeatedly, an action that’s become incredibly grounding and calming to him.

“Ah, shit.” Something clatters to the floor in the kitchen, garnering both Simon’s and Miss Catty’s attention.

“You’re carving a gourd, Johnny, not digging information out of someone. Take it easy.” Simon’s voice is low and rumbly and filled with mirth.

Johnny either doesn’t notice Ghost’s presence or doesn’t acknowledge it. He sticks the blade of the knife back into the orange flesh of the pumpkin in front of him. Previously-carved chunks sit on the table next to him, accompanied by the rather-disgusting innards in a bowl. Ghost pulls a chair out to sit down across from Johnny and watch him work.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Soap teases. “You don’t see it the way an artist like myself does.” He sits back momentarily as Miss Catty jumps up to investigate his work. She sniffs the gourd curiously before sneezing and deciding it’s not worth her time. “You li’l shit! This is inspired by you!” Johnny taps the flat side of the knife against the carved pumpkin in exasperation.

“Spin it around so we can have a look, yeah?” Simon drawls. Johnny does so eagerly, wiping off any remaining debris.

It’s…certainly something. He can tell Soap went for some sort of cat face, but the lines are uneven and jagged. One eye is noticeably bigger than the other. One of the ears is completely hollowed out compared to the other, as if he had changed his strategy midway through working. 

“Looks good,” Ghost tries and fails to hide a smirk behind his glass. 

Soap looks like he’s won a prize. “Did it m’self.”

Ghost starts separating seeds from the pumpkin guts, putting them aside. When Johnny asks about his actions, Ghost explains. “Jasper knows how to cook these and make them real good. I’m gonna save some to give to them. Could probably save some chunks for their critters too. They’d appreciate it.”

“Jasper’s critters are probably dead tired of pumpkin at this point. Still, I’ll check.”

“You even have a light to put inside it?”

A moment of pause. “No.”

“There might be old tea candles somewhere in here,” Simon murmurs as he stands to ruffle through the junk drawer in the kitchen. Johnny props his head up on an open palm, blatantly ogling the other appreciatively. 

Their cat sticks her head inside the hollowed-out work, yellow eyes wide and curious. After a moment, it’s not just her head inside the pumpkin. She manages to squeeze her front legs and shoulders inside as well before wisely deciding that it wouldn’t be that smart of an idea to get stuck inside it, retreating just as gracefully.

Ghost comes back a few moments later with a tea candle in his fingers. He slides it across the table to Johnny with a lighter following its tracks right after. The candle is lit, producing a small, wobbly flame that looks like it’s doing its best to stay lit. Gingerly, it’s placed inside the pumpkin and the top is plunked back on before Soap darts over to turn the apartment’s lights off to appraise his work.

“Best work yet,” he grins at Ghost after thoroughly looking it over.

[moss-sauce]

EEK the pumpkin northstar is so powerful that she levitates enemy titans with sheer willpower

[ultraultrakilling]

using my silly little brain to hc that the game happens over a long period of time [or, at least, starts after humanity has been gone for a while] so the surface has regrown and flourishes with plant life. in thsi essay i will

[yume-fanfare]

"if i were still alive, do you think we could have been friends?"

speedpaint under the cut!

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[squibbedoodles]

evil team family matters are afoot...

SUPER old ver.

[serotonins-stuff]

Katsuki is the type to sing love songs under his breath while cooking you breakfast. Hair messy and no tshirt on, just him, his headphones and your clingy ass wrapping your hands around him from behind.

Occasionally he shifts one headphone to the side, tilting his head to glance at you from over his shoulder. It's either to check if you're still awake or to ask about your breakfast.

"You want your eggs scrambled t'day or sunny side up?"

"Suprise me" you mumble sleepily against his back, whinining when he shuffles towards the fridge.

He huffs in amusement, and a smug smirk tugs it's way onto his lips. "Told you to stay in bed"

"And I told you It's cold-" you pout, before trailing your fingertips over the soft textured skin of his scars "And you're the warmest thing in this house right now, and your singing is so soothing"

You're cute, so dangerously cute that he can't help but shy away from the flutter of his heart after your comment and gentle tuch. However he plays it cool by clearing his throat and shifting his focus back onto the task at hand.

You tighten your arms around him, and your cheek smooches quite comedically against."What song are you singing?" The comfort of his broad and warm back putting you into a comfortable daze.

"Die with a smile by uh- Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga"

You hum with acknowledgement, and he continues to dish up breakfast with you attached to his back like a koala. Occasionaly he'll place bits of food up to your lips and you'll accept them eagerly and hum in delight.

As his song gets to the best part he can't help but turn around suddenly, his firm touch on your hip as his other hand finds the warmth of your palm, and he slips his fingertips past yours, steadily intertwining your hands.

Your head finds comfort on his warm chest and you can feel every harsh thump of his heart while he sways with you side to side. He pushes his embarrassment and shyness to the side, wanting nothing more than spending the early morning with you before you would have to go.

"I'd wanna hold you~" he sing, just below a and his raspy voice reverberates through his chest and against your ear. "Just for a while~"

"And dieee with a smile"

"If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you~"

-----------

A/n

Just a lil something for you guys

Thank you so much for 1k followers!❤:)

[lastknownstatus-alive]

I hear heaven singing when your lips move

[marcenning]

custom icon commissioned by @pyrodox-creates for their @apritellointeractive AU!

feat. their beloved snarky samurai boy

[ivararara]

AMIR DID YOU FUCK MY WARFRAME

[kissyghosty]

prompt was "this is going to hurt" but i made it fluffy. silly little wingies au drabble

Simon Riley shows affection in often-subtle ways: Sitting close enough to Johnny to have their shoulders touch. Tangling their legs under the table while they sit somewhere and have coffee. Fussing over John’s hair and feathers, as haphazard as they always are, trying to get them to at least resemble something like intentional style and not “just rolled out of bed and went with it”..

“Christ’s sake,” Simon mutters under his breath as he tries smoothing down flyaways on Soap’s head. “Do you ever do anything with this mop on your head? Or do you just let fate decide how it’ll look for the day?”

“There’s a strategy to it,” Johnny  explains, giggling underneath Simon’’s fussing. He’d never admit it to anyone--except Simon, of course--that being the target of someone’s finicky nitpicking meant more to him than the other would think. It meant Simon currently  is and  previously was paying attention to the little details about him. It just so happened that the detail he focused on was “fixable” by Simon.

“You need to cut this shit shorter,” Simon rumbles under his breath as he sweeps a hand over Johnny’s mohawk. “You’d have a chance at taming it then.”

“It’s fine as is,” he retorts lightheartedly. “As if you don’t have horrible bedhead when you wake up. Not all of us can just don a mask and hide it.” He can tangibly feel Simon’s face twist further into a frown behind his back. He’s about to spit another quip when he feels tugging on his primary feathers, making him flinch automatically.

“Not all of us are hell-bent on looking like wet cats either.”

“That’s a low blow, Simon.” Johnny pouts. “You can’t--”

“Hush.” Simon says sharply. “This is going to hurt a bit.”

“What’s go--” Simon’s fingers dig into his hair and pull, working a stubborn knot out at the expense of John’s state of mind.

“Jesus,” he hisses, reflexively ducking away from the talons Simon suddenly seemed to have instead of fingers. “Warn a man, yeah?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t give me time to process it!”

“I don’t have time to ‘wait for you to process’ everything I say, daft.” While Simon speaks, his fingers smooth over John’s sheer-black feathers, fingers gently twining through fluff. It instantly calms Johnny down, making him damn near slump over as he revels in the feeling. “At least you look presentable now.”

A slurred mumble is all Simon’s met with. “I’ll forgive you for now.”

[moss-sauce]

this is the only northstar mod that fucking matters

[gracefuldisasters]

happy Mar10 day

I put the guys in jail to celebrate