#I do like drawing spooky things though

[flameultra04]

Linktober Shadow Day 11: Dead Hand

I haven’t participated in Linktober since 2021, but I knew this year I wanted to redraw my first ever entry from three years ago. I’m happy with the improvement! …And the nightmare fuel. Geez.

Original from 2020

[livvylubug]

I don't know if this has been asked yet, but how or why is Cyn with the ladies group? I'm genuinely curious of the circumstances. If you're not ready to answer that quite yet I have a simple question, what do all the ladies like to do as hobbies?

Uzi was fully aware of who she was rebuilding, V of course tried to attack cyn the moment they saw her.

but considering how they found her? Uzi had to sympathize with her situation, After all she’s been in a similar position.

Tw: robot gore

[dexter-erotoph]

nobody knows how much it tears me apart that outside of sm3 we will most likely NEVER see how dexter normally is we wont see how he used to normally speak or look or what he liked to do for fun or his talents or his friends any of the stuff he surrounded himself with to make him as content and happy as he looked on his last day living normally before he got forced to regress after likely having to work so so hard to earn a life he was comfortable with. like i need you to understand HOW much you have to go through and how deeply frustrating and tormenting it must be to have this happen LOOK

[loppiopio]

the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅

(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)

it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>

(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)

[crayons-and-glitter-glue]

I think about Sun and Moon's original versions a LOT, and I don't get why people say they're not expressive!

Or perhaps, I do, and I just wanna ramble. Anyways! Big ol warning for lots of talking, some fursuit gifs and analyzation of body movement.

So, they have flat, immobile faceplates, right? Technically, yes!some argue that this makes them immediately inert and expressionless and opt to enhance their expressions. And this is a-okay! Do what you like!

But as someone who used to be a costumer, and wears a fursuit on occasion,

(Sorry, I love this gif so much)

BUT! When in a mascot costume, fursuit, or any other costume with a mask over one's face, the performer has to learn how to move in order to portray the emotions necessary for character engagement with the audience! Whether it's exaggerated head bobs, using your hands to talk, or making everything a bit of a spectacle, even the way you tilt your FACE can affect how you look.

Even MUPPETS do this with their limited range of expression. And we can easily draw those conclusions of how the boys were programmed to act in canon!

Take Sun's default animation in the daycare, just standing there.

It's very obvious here what he's trying to portray, and who his programmed audience is- little children! When costuming around little kids, you wanna use big gestures, and get on their level because you can seem HUGE AND SCARY to them! You wanna get down towards the ground, make big sweeping cartoon motions, and make sure all your movements are ROUNDED- not jabbing, sharp, or sudden- so that the kid isn't ever surprised, but rather delighted by your performance as a costumer. I'll show you an example by the amazing performer, Temba the Bat! (Made by Toxicoon, I believe.)

Big sweeping motions, slow without being too spooky, and generally friendly motions while swaying the head! Looks kinda similar right?

Another point is, though, these exaggerated motions don't really... turn off when feeling other things. Sun and Moon don't have a customer service mode, and that's WILD to me that their programming requires them to act like this all the time. Exhibit B: Sun's pain in the transformation scene.

He's making such exaggerated motions and movements to INDICATE he is in pain or holding something back. He's gripping his face like something is trying to come out of it, and even dramatically falls backwards to indicate a loss of control in his body. Whether the way the fall looks so cartoonist was intentionally programmed in, I couldn't tell you.

And then... there's Moon.

This is SO cartoon villain sequel, isn't it? The hands tapping delicately on the surface, the exaggerated head tilt, all of it is so wildly exaggerated in such a smooth way to let you know "Ah! I'm in danger! Great!"

And yet... he still is low to the ground. Still in that pose of going after someone SMALL. Performing for someone small. His evilness is almost completely exaggerated and, dare I say, fabricated by his programming. Of course, the virus probably had something to do with it but LIKE! Look at that range of motion!

Idk what the point of all this is, I just wanna say: it's totally understandable to make the boys super duper expressive in the artistic, flat 2d styles i see a lot!

But man I do hope someone draws them biblically accurate while expressing something else because that would be hilarious to see Sun throwing a temper tantrum by banging his fists on the ground and flailing while his face is just

:D

[naffeclipse]

I absolutely adore every AU you come up with, but I was actually curious if you had already or were considering writing a traditional DCAxReader? Hopefully I can kick this art block soon because there is so much fanart I want to draw of your stories :) Hope your week is going well! (besides the roof disaster ^^;;;)

On another note... AUs are my brainrot and I keep thinking about that post about the large bed... and spoopy ghosts. Clipgeist? No running away from something that can follow you to the ends of the Earth. Poor Y/Ns just can't catch a break lol

I have a few canon stories with the DCA x Reader on my Ao3 but nothing as grand or long as my AUs! I do have a 'canon' story plotted but I don't know when I'll write it. Hopefully one day!

Ah, that's so exciting! I hope you can chisel that art block down hehe 

It's going good (aside from the roof ;-;) I have this week of school before we go on break for Thanksgiving and it can't come soon enough!

Shaking your hand so hard rn!! I love AUs! And a spooky ghost one? Oh ho, I've always wanted to write a domestic monster scenario!

Perhaps Y/N moves into an old, old house with steep roofs, pointed arches above the windows and doors, and a lovely porch. It's two and a half stories tall (the half story is attic space under the roof rafters) with a four-story central spired tower! All dark wood and even darker interiors. You can't desire if it's Dracula's castle or a fairytale home for the happily ever-after-ed prince and princess. It's even got a secret underground tunnel! What more do you need when flipping a home? You love restoration and you intend to keep all its gothic charm while updating it to be, well, livable.

It's also incredibly cheap! Like, stupid cheap, for something that should be incredibly pricey for its prestige style and historical value. Not that you've ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even you have second thoughts before ultimately snatching up the house key.

The first night is always unsettling—maybe you hear a voice whisper in your ear despite it being dead silent and there's not a soul for miles, but you'll brush that off as getting spooked by old ghost stories your brain conjures up within the ornate decorated rooms.

From there, things get stranger and stranger still. Your paintbrush is moved and you know you didn't set it there because of the wet paint dripping onto the floor. The electricity is ever fickle, turning off at the most opportune moments during the night, like when you swear you saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway, all thin and scraggly with a ghostly smile and an inhuman head framed with wavering energy that almost seems to glow like embers in the dark!

Still, you continue your repairs and restorations, sometimes softly talking to yourself out loud and talking to the house like it's a wounded animal you intend to restore back to its fittest with all the love you can pour out of your heart. Places need love, too.

The most obnoxious thing is that you can't access the tower—the door is always locked, and no matter what key you try, it refuses to budge. You don't dare risk causing damage by prying it open, but you swear you'll get into that tower one day. There's got to be treasure inside with how mysteriously it stands, just out of your reach. Though, you've mostly put it aside for now. Whenever you jingle keys in the lock, you swear you hear a voice grow angry with you, and the hallway becomes so cold you can see your breath.

So, yeah, you're saving that for later.

The pivotal moment of you even considering a haunting is one night when you find yourself overwhelmed and stressed from the ever-growing list of chores and how everything is falling apart faster than you can fix it. You dissolve on the living room floor into thick tears. You're usually so put together, even when alone. You hate crying. There's no one to hold you together except yourself, so why fall apart in the first place?

Your little moment of getting it out is interrupted when a quilt falls over your shoulders. A soft, heavy quilt of midnight skies and dotted pale blue stars that was never in this room.

You leap to your feet, quilt falling away, and call out in classic horror victim fashion, "Who's there?" but no one answers. In frozen terror, you stare at the room, expecting something, anything to jump out or scream at you, but it's so, so quiet. All is still, like apologetic comfort.

That couldn't have happened. No draft, no forgetfulness could explain how a quilt was draped over you as if by a concerned friend.

You stare at the quilt and decide that you've had a long day. You go to your room, unable to relax even once you're under the covers, feeling something cold and misty above your bed.

When you wake in the morning, that starry quilt is draped over your lying form. You did not put it there.

Something or someone else tucked it around you.

[marleyybluu]

Oscar x pregnant!reader

Wc: 1.9k

warnings: daddy issues, use of OMB scenes so spoilers I guess, sad Spooky, shitty ending cus my attention span cut out

"No, no, no! You can not put down two draw fours!" Yn shouted at Cesar while the two dabbled in an intense game of UNO. Cesar chuckled waving his one card in her face. "You're just mad because you're losing." He bragged. Though it was confirmed she would never admit it, she quickly pouted and placed her hand on her stomach, he chuckled shaking his head knowing the card that she was about to play. "I'm gonna tell your niece or nephew you didn't let their mommy win."

Her boyfriend Spooky could be heard letting out a bellyful laugh from down the hall, he emerged from his room making his way toward them where they sat around the table not too far from the living room. "Mamita, you can't say that every time you don't get your way." She stuck out her tongue. "I can and I will for the remaining six months."

He rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Fine," She reluctantly picked up eight more cards just for Cesar to dramatically slam his last one on the table. He stood up took the last swig of his beer and rested the empty bottle on the table, he was next to kiss her head before grabbing his things and heading out. "I'll see you guys later, I'm with Monse if you need me."

"Have fun." She called out. The door closed and the house was once again silent, Yn gathered the cards and packed them nicely back into the box they came in. She heard the sound of the front door opening and assumed it was Cesar, she said "What'd you forget knucklehead?" But frowned when she was met with their father, Ray. A few days ago the older gentleman had found himself across from the traphouse, Cesar panicked about a stranger just stalking outside so Spooky went to investigate, and with Yn's nosey ass at the window, she noticed Spooky's body language and he was not happy.

Spooky never spoke about his dad, maybe once, but that was it. She could tell he had resentment in his heart for that man, he was a stranger and for him to pop back up after all these years wasn't ideal for anyone in this situation. YN had to admit it was nice seeing Cesar happy and hearing him talk about all the things they were going to do and how much they had to catch up on but judging by the look on Ray's face right in front of her... those plans would never set in motion.

She pitied him a half-smile before dodging into the kitchen. Spooky sat in the background on the couch observing the cold interaction, internally smiling that she would be on his side no matter the minor details that she knew. Ray disappeared into one of the rooms, Spooky was curious as to what he was there for but was brought out of it when he was called to the kitchen. He got up and followed her voice, she was desperately trying to reach the third shelf and was failing miserably, usually, she'd grab a chair but with a baby inside she was more cautious of what she did.

"Can you grab a plate for me papito?"

"Of course, baby."

She squealed and applauded the small gesture as he handed the plate over to her. "Thank you." She blew him a kiss but he wanted a real one, his hand snaking around her waist he pulled her in tightly. Her hands ran up his neck and landed under his jawline. Their lips touched, fitting like pieces of a puzzle, melting together like it was the first time. She could feel his hands slide a little further down, she gasped at the hard squeeze he delivered she pulled back smacking his chest. "Why can't I have one little innocent kiss?"

"That question is what got you pregnant in the first place." He joked gently pressing his hand on her little belly. Yn shooed him off. Oscar laughed and left her alone only to return to the main area and see Ray with his duffle bag on top of the table packing his clothes up. "Finally cleaning up your mess?" He asked. Ever since he arrived it'd practically become a pigsty, his girl often complaining that she wasn't some maid for a grown-ass man, especially one she had no relation to. Ray avoided eye contact as he answered. "I'm leaving, think I've caused enough drama."

Leaving. All he did was leave, run away from his problems, and scram when things got serious. It wasn't the first time Oscar experienced it but there was no doubt that it still hurt, he felt himself shrink into that little kid again, watching the man who was supposed to be there for him vanish, the man who was supposed to teach him how to become one disappear without a trace leaving him and Cesar alone to fend for themselves.

"Good," He responded. "You tell Cesar your plan?"

There was a moment of silence, Ray had stopped packing and sighed making eye contact with his oldest. "I'll tell him when I get to Bakersfield, there's a guy up there who can help me out... help you out too-"

Spooky had turned cold, that scowl plastered on his face, the boiling hate flashing in his eyes. "I don't need help, I got everything I need."

Ray let out an amused chuckle. "The Santos? That girl?" Oscar took a step forward, fists balled up, father or not he would put down anyone that disrespected his girl. She was his home, his family, she was everything that he needed. "Her name is Yn, and she let you stay with us, not me... if it were up to me you'd be out on the street with the rest of the stray dogs."

Little did they know they had an audience for this performance, not too far off Yn had poked her head from the kitchen she had stopped what she was doing the minute she heard their voices. "I hope they don't sell you out, I hope she's good to you because one day all that love you think you're getting from them is gonna be gone."

"Ray." He warned. "This street shit isn't the life man, you don't have to stay here, go and make something of yourself."

Oscar's eyes softened, and he began to nod in agreement. "Thanks, Papa, you're right. I could be president or a fucking astronaut, maybe even a movie star right? Because I had such a great fucking role model!"

"I had a shitty dad too, mijo," Ray's tone was so nonchalant when he said it and something about it was making Yn's skin crawl it just sounded like he didn't care. "But you gotta let that rage go."

It took everything for her not toa put in her two cents. How do you let the rage from constant and consistent disappointment go? She could tell Spooky had this overbearing feeling that he was a failure, that he failed Cesar, failed the Santos and even failed her-- so how was he just supposed to let that go?

Yn had thought the fire between them had died down, that Ray had left and Spooky was just standing there disassociating at the fact that he was in his twenties and still being abandoned. But when she brought herself into frame the two of them had gone, their muffled argument had moved outdoors. Her feet carried her to the front door, where she stood behind the screen watching it go down from a distance.

"Everything bad that's ever happened in my life is because of you! You're gonna crush Cesar the same way you crushed me!" His voice weakened, almost cracking like he was fighting to keep that little boy inside. Ray was already at the end of the path, one foot almost on the black tarmac road, he dropped his bag and turned around to face Spooky. "You never wrote to me... you didn't call, you didn't even visit not once! Did you even think about me?"

YN placed her hand over her heart, she wanted nothing more than to drag him inside and coddle him for all he's been through but he needed to let this out he'd been holding it in for far too long. She looked as Ray walked back toward Spooky.

"Oscar-" He began but Spooky shut it down. "You wanna know the worst part about not having a father? I had to be a father to my brother without having been a son first!" He sniffled. "I have a girl in there who loves me, who taught me how to love since I didn't have you or mama as examples... she's having my baby and I'm scared that I'm gonna end up like you!"

Oscar broke, completely shattered. Yn didn't think there'd be a day when she heard her partner weeping from the deep sadness that he felt, the sadness that was cloaked in anger. Ray didn't say anything, he pulled Oscar in for a hug and he resisted at first but once again his inner child betrayed him and he loosened a bit returning the embrace and they stayed like that for a while. Oscar buried his head in his father's shoulder, nothing was said, it was a bittersweet and brief moment before that rage entered his system again. That wall reappeared in seconds.

He wasn't little Oscar Diaz anymore he was back to Spooky who aggressively shoved his father off of him. "Take your shit and go, make sure I don't see you here again."

And just like that, he was gone again. Spooky turned around with a pout on his face, he stopped at the front door seeing Yn through the screen. "Did you eat?" Funny that even in his obvious time of need he was still worried about her. She shook her head, stretched out her hand to his and gently pulled him inside. Once the door closed the tears that he had just soaked back up were released once again. Yn pulled him over to the couch, sat him down and then took her place beside him.

He fell apart in her arms. "I fucking hate him." She rubbed his back. "All he does is fucking leave me... what did I do?"

"Ay! You didn't do anything papito, he's just an asshole."

"Am I not good enough?"

She frowned. "You are more than enough my love, I promise you. You are more than enough for me, for Cesar and for the baby. You did a great job raising him and you will do an even better one raising ours."

He lifted his head from where it rested on her shoulder, she swiped her thumb across his cheeks to wipe his tears. "How are you so sure?"

"You already do enough for the baby and they're not even here. You make sure I'm eating enough, you make sure I'm relaxed. I wish you could've seen your face when I told you." Now she was tearing up. "I couldn't have picked a better person to make a family with."

He softly smiled. "I love you."

"Duh." She sarcastically answered which received a decent chuckle. "I love you too, we're good okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." He mumbled. She smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. "Let's eat, yeah?"

"Yeah."

I just felt like writing something kind of sad. idk why.

for the Pedro girlies im working on Truth or Drink3

for the Rio girlies, working on The Nanny 3

trying not to burn tf out lol just put me down at this point.

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love.

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Four

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

questions are answered and truths are revealed. and they both cross lines they won't be coming back from.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, canon-typical descriptions of gore, smut (shhhh don't tell anyone) annnd spooky times, of course

a/n | y'all fucking rock for loving and supporting this series so much <3 my inbox is always open and i love to hear your thoughts about it. also i should mention this chapter is just a little bit longer, so get comfy before reading :)

..................................

The sun is only just rising when she sees him out of her house. Joel finds himself squinting in the faint morning light as he steps out on her porch, his eyes bleary from a night without sleep. 

“We’ll talk more later, right?” She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed as she asks him. He can see the worry lining her furrowed expression and he impulsively ducks his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, wanting to smooth out any uncertainty in her.

“Tonight, after my shift. Can I come by then?” Her expression eases into a smile and she nods, untucking her hand from where it was crossed under her arm to offer him a small tin– of what, he isn’t sure. 

“Salve made with comfrey root. For pain and swelling in those knuckles of yours.” Joel is starting to accept that knowing her is being constantly surprised by her, so he just nods and mumbles a soft thank you, taking the tin from her with his hand that isn’t all bandaged up.

“I’ll see you tonight, Joel.” 

“I’ll be here, darlin.” He’s still getting used to it, being able to reach for her and her reaching back, so his motions are a bit disjointed when he shuffles closer in search of another kiss. She makes it easier, though, bringing a hand to his jaw, a steady guide drawing him in. His nose barely brushes against hers when he jerks away in a flash, biting back a yelp as something brushes up against his ankles. He can tell that she’s holding back a laugh as she smoothly scoops Stevie up in her arms, the feline nuzzling up against her chin immediately.

“I think someone might be a little jealous.” Joel finds himself mirroring her easy smile, shaking his head before leaning in to steal that kiss he had been set on. It’s a quick little thing, Stevie letting out an indignant meow between them as he pulls away.

“You better go before Tommy comes looking for you.” One more look, one more smile, it feels like pulling away from a magnet as he leaves. He moves through town not fully there, his mind swirling with everything she told him last night. But the haze he finds himself walking through quickly clears when he makes it to the gate, finding his brother talking to Mason, who is clearly wound up judging by the way he’s in Tommy’s face. As Joel gets closer, Tommy’s eyes dart over Mason’s shoulder to him, prompting the man to turn around, revealing a clearly broken nose. Mason scoffs, looking once between Tommy and Joel before storming past them.

“Got something you wanna tell me, brother?” Tommy cocks an eyebrow at him, eyes glancing down to Joel’s bandaged hand before settling back on his face. 

“He got what he deserved.” Tommy snorts at that, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Oh, I know. It’s the talk of the town. Joel Miller went where no man has gone before– the witch’s lair.” He knows his brother is joking by the way he can barely get the words out behind a laugh, but Joel is having a hard time finding it amusing, huffing as he shoulders past Tommy, heading toward the stables to mount up and head out.

He and Tommy work well together, always have, and today is no different as they ride out for patrol, but what is normally a comforting quiet only gives Joel more time to stew over her dizzying story.

As far back as we could trace it– we’ve always been like this.

It’s energetic, really. Where others are closed, we’re open wide. 

I see the world in threads. Everything is tied together. What I do– what people call magic– is pulling on those threads.

He knows that he still doesn’t fully understand, but he reckons that she doesn’t fully understand either. What she could tell him, she did. 

She told him about growing up in Wyoming with her mother, how she first told her about these abilities when she caught her talking to a bird, and it seemed to be talking back. 

She told him how her mother was both revered and repelled in their small town, much the same way she is in Jackson. 

She told him that her mother had a vision the summer before everything fell apart, and took her out of her senior year of high school and up into the mountains to hide away while the world crumbled. 

She told him how they lived well like that for many years, until her mother had another one of her visions behind now milky eyes. A vision that it was time to go. 

She told him about the night before they were planning to leave, raiders coming in the dark and a stray bullet finding a home between her mother’s ribs. She wandered on her own for weeks, willing death to rejoin her with her family, but was instead found by Maria and one of the Jackson patrol groups. 

She told him about her time in Jackson. The people she helped. The lives she got tangled up with. And the men whom she always kept at a distance, beacons of grief and reminders of what people really thought of her.

She spoke as if in a trance, her eyes and voice unwavering save for the shuddering breaths she took between words. And when she finished, Joel had risen from his seat and coaxed her up with him, pressing her close in his arms until the shake in her shoulders steadied. 

He’s gotten the truth now, and he spins it over and over in his mind, his thoughts flitting up into the thin mountain air.

…

She’s being followed. Has been since she set out on her rounds this morning, paying house visits to folks in Jackson that need her care. Stevie lets out a sour hiss from her place tucked in her satchel, and she chances a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, the black dog is following behind her at a close but respectable distance. If it hadn’t been going on since she left her house this morning, she probably wouldn’t even notice. But it had been sitting right next to her mailbox, head tilted at her as she stepped down from her porch, and she knew then that this wasn’t just a random visitor. It was an omen.

“Go on, get!” She waves her arm behind her, uselessly trying to shoo the dog away, who only looks at her with that same head tilt. 

Four other times this had happened. 

The first time, it had been an inky black crow, squawking and hopping along from house to house, trailing behind her. They brought him back that night, slung over the back of one of the horses, a smear of bullet wounds in his back.

The second time, it had been a rat that skittered along fence posts and wove between people’s feet. He didn’t even make it out of the gates that morning, trampled to death by a newly-trained horse. 

The third time, it had been a beetle, a creature certainly not indigenous to Wyoming. She kept picking it up in a glass jar and taking it outside, but everytime, it found its way back into her shop. A freak accident, people said, for someone so young to have a heart attack so suddenly. 

The fourth time, it had been a black dog, the same black dog following her today, though it’s now much grayer in the face. They didn’t even bring his body back that time, not after he was infected.

Finishing her last house call, she jerkily makes her way toward her shop, trying to ignore the icy prickle shivering up her spine at the sound of paws padding behind her. She’s trying not to look like a freak, but judging by the glances people are giving her as she walks through town, she isn’t doing a very good job of hiding her mounting panic. 

“I said go away.”

“Woah, I thought you told me you needed my help today, but I can go I guess.” She whips around from where she had been scolding the mutt at the sound of Ellie’s voice, finding her waiting in front of the store.

“I’m sorry, Ellie. I wasn’t talking to you, I was– well, I was–” She motions vaguely behind her to the dog that has now sat on its haunches, panting lightly and looking at them. Ellie, however, is entirely unbothered by the animal, walking right over to it and crouching down to pat its scruffy head. The sight makes her feel a bit sick, knowing exactly what the presence of this animal means.

“C-c’mon, that thing probably has fleas. Let’s go inside and get to work, alright?” Ellie smiles up at her, nodding with a sigh as she walks over to where she is unlocking the door to the shop. She keeps her eye on the dog over Ellie’s shoulder, even as she opens the door and motions for the girl to go inside. 

“You’re acting– weird.” She mutters something about not sleeping well, and although Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, she shuffles inside. Before she follows after Ellie, she sets her satchel down just inside the door, Stevie stepping out and running to the back of the shop in search of the girl. She turns around to face the dog who has now inched closer to her, and does the only thing she can think to do.

The people of Jackson got quite the show that afternoon as she chased the scruffy mutt, her arms waving and muttered curses loosing from her lips, as far away from her shop as she could. 

“You stay. Do you hear me? He’s coming back– h-he is.” With a final huff, she turns on her heel, stomping a direct path back to the shop and slamming the door behind her, Stevie’s and Ellie’s heads whipping up at her blustery entrance. She just huffs at their wide-eyed stares, her shoulders slumping when she glances back through the shop door window and sees that damn dog sitting on the stoop, head eternally tilted.

…

It’s been a slow day of patrol. They rode up around the dam, relieved to not find any raiders, a seemingly perpetual nuisance. It must be late in the afternoon when they decide to start heading back through the thickening woods.

“So, you two are really making a go of it, huh?” Joel glances over at Tommy, grunting at his brother’s prying question.

“Suppose we are.” Tommy chuckles.

“You never did take any of my advice. Good luck, brother. But please, try not to make a habit out of busting people’s faces for her.” It’s meant in jest, but Joel shoots him a hard look from atop his horse.

“You would’ve done the same if you had seen what he did to her.” When Tommy’s brow furrows, Joel lets out a bitter laugh.

“What? Did Mason leave out that detail? I watched that fucker slam her head against a wall, Tommy. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve done much worse.” Tommy mutters a low jesus christ under his breath, shaking his head at Joel’s words.

“Fuck, Joel– I’ll talk to Maria about this–”

“Don’t. Asshole like that– best to just let it go. I think I made my point. But if he tries anything again, I won’t hesitate, Tommy. I just won’t.” Tommy offers him a faint nod, both of them settling back into silence as they continue riding. 

It happens in a flash. Someone– or something– comes bounding out of the trees, spooking Joel’s horse enough that he gets thrown right off. He groans, scrambling to get to his feet as Tommy wheels around, but before Joel can get his bearings, he’s tackled back down to the ground. 

Snapping teeth and garbled shrieks, a disorienting mix as he struggles to push the clicker off of him. He can’t hear anything else, no clue if Tommy is alright, if they have any shot of making it out of this alive. All he can do is flail on the ground with this snarling creature, his bare hands doing little to repel its staggering force.

A cool fear starts to trickle in. A fear that this might be the time he doesn’t make it back.

…

She’s watching the clock, face scrunched into a permanent scowl of worry. The beds of her nails had all been picked raw several hours ago, and she had only stopped when they started to bleed. In her spiraling state, she had sent Ellie off early, not wanting to draw any more attention to her obvious anxiety. Stevie sits in the storefront window, hissing and clawing at the dog who has now laid down in front of the store.

It isn’t her fault. She tells herself this, over and over. She knows that it isn’t her fault. That it hadn’t ever been her fault, not now and not before. Deep down, she knows this, but the nagging voices of Jackson, and what people believe contrarily, seeps in around the edges of her mind, a sour poison that settles thick in her thoughts. And she braces herself for the worst, a full body tensing, waiting for the news to come.

Five o’clock. He should’ve been back an hour ago. But just as the clock rolls over into the new hour, Stevie stops hissing altogether. She gets up from her stool behind the old checkout counter, craning her neck to look out the window, but finds no sign of the dog that had been following her all day. 

She moves before she thinks, leaving the door to the shop ajar as she stumbles out and starts walking briskly toward the town’s gate. When she rounds the corner and the gate comes into her line of sight, the slow creaking of its opening resounding in her bones, her feet kick up into a stilted jog. It barely registers to her that she’s crying, the cool slip of it running down her cheeks. When she only sees Tommy riding in, she stops in her tracks, heart stuttering still in her chest. But she breaks into a sprint when Joel comes into sight, riding in just behind his brother. 

She lets out a yelp of his name, his head jerking up at the sound. A sob breaks in her ribs when his eyes meet hers, and he’s quick to slip down off his horse, taking a few tentative steps forward before she’s crashing right into him. 

A hard breath is pushed out of him as he stumbles back a few paces, his arms wrapping firm around her as she presses her face into his chest, her hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt. When she finally pulls away, she brings her hands to his jaw, holding his face still as her eyes search his.

“Are you– are you ok?” He nods, clearly caught off guard by her frenzied greeting.

“I am, but– how did you– I mean, I’m fine. Just a little bruised. But I’ll live.” His words make a laugh bubble up in her throat, and when she lets it loose he really does look at her like she’s gone crazy.

“The dog was wrong–” She lets out another bright laugh.

“The dog was wrong!” His brow creases in even greater confusion.

“What dog? What’re you talk–” She cuts him off with a hard kiss, a smooch really, the kind that would make a cartoon character’s head explode in a shower of confetti hearts. But Joel’s blush when she pulls away with a sweet smack accomplishes much the same effect.

“I am so glad you’re back.” 

…

“Damn, is this soup magic? Because it’s way better than anything Joel cooks.” 

“Kid.” Ellie looks up at him from where she’s all but face-planted into her bowl of soup, shrugging at his scolding. She takes it in stride, though, laughing at Ellie’s exclamation.

“Not magic– but I’m glad you like it.” It’s a strange sight, her sitting at his kitchen table. It had been even stranger watching her flit around his kitchen, cooking for him and Ellie like she had done it hundreds of times before. But she had insisted after he told her what happened on patrol, not letting him get another word in edgewise as she led him first to her shop to pick up Stevie and that satchel of hers, and then to his house where she had immediately gotten to work with whatever odds and ends she could find in his fridge. Joel would never protest at the promise of a hot meal that he didn’t have to make, and he has to admit that the kid is right, the soup is really fucking good.

The rest of their meal passes quietly, the continuous purrs of Stevie sitting in Ellie’s lap being interrupted only when Ellie finishes her bowl with a contented groan.

“That was so fucking good, seriously. Can you come over more often? Because Joel’s idea of cooking is opening a can of really old chef boyardee beef–”

“Kid.” Joel is entirely mortified, but once again, Ellie just huffs, coaxing Stevie off her lap and standing up to take her bowl to the sink, glancing at them over her shoulder.

“What? It’s true. Anyways, I gotta run– Dina and I are going to movie night together.” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows as she leans back against the sink, but before Joel can even tell her to be safe, she’s already bounding through the house and out the front door with a loud “don’t wait up!” All he can do is slump back in his chair with a huff.

“That nudge you gave Ellie is going to send me to an early grave.” She snorts at that, sitting back in her own chair across from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I think it’s sweet– a little young love could do this world some good.” With that, she gets up, grabbing her own bowl as well as his and heading over to the sink. He goes to get up, protesting at her cleaning up after them, but finds himself sitting back down with a wince that catches her attention.

“You feeling alright?”

“I mean– no. Feel like I got thrown off a horse, probably because I did.” She offers him a small smile, tilting her head.

“Let me get this cleaned up, huh? I think I can help with that.”

Just a little while later, when she has him lead her up into his bathroom, Joel reckons that her idea of helping may give him a heart attack.

“Do you like the water really really hot, or just warm?” He has to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from the soft curve of her jeans where she’s bent over the tub, fiddling with the faucet, before he can answer.

“Um, I don’t– I don’t know. I guess I’ve never actually used this thing.” She whips around at that, brow furrowed.

“You’re kidding, right? You have this super nice tub, and you’ve never used it?” When all he does is shrug, she sighs.

“Well, I’ll just have to show you what you’re missing out on then. Can you go grab my bag? I left it right next to the stairs.” He pads out into the hallway, finding her satchel slung over the top of the railing of the stairs just as Stevie comes slinking up the steps. 

“She asked me to get her bag for– Jesus christ, I’m talking to a cat.” He swipes a palm down his face, letting out a long sigh, only slightly shocked when Stevie lets out an inquisitive mrrp that sounds a whole lot like a response. 

“You stay, alright? Go– be creepy somewhere else.” At that, Stevie lets out an indignant mroowww, tilting her head at him. It’s certainly a first for him, having a staredown with a cat, but he assumes he wins when Stevie turns away with another little mrrp, padding silently back down the steps. 

When he reenters the bathroom, a haze of steam has filled up the room, and she’s sitting on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water with her hand.

“There you are, thanks for grabbing that. You didn’t happen to see Stevie out there, did you?”

“Hmm? Oh, um, no, I didn’t. “ Luckily, she buys his answer, shaking her head with a light laugh as she takes her bag from him.

“Probably slinked off to find some trouble for the night. Anyways, let me finish getting this ready for you.” She pulls out a cloth sack from her satchel, digging her hand in and sprinkling what looks like salt over the bath. Before he can even ask, she explains it to him with a smile.

“Epsom salt. There’s a lake up in the mountains that dries out every summer and there’s always tons of this stuff on the lakebed. Mixed with a little lavender and chamomile to calm down inflammation.” He speaks before he can really think about it, feeling like a fool the instant the words leave his mouth.

“You’re amazing, d’you know that?” She laughs, keeping her eyes turned down as she swirls the water a few times with her hand before standing up to look at him.

“It should be all set. I recommend staying in there for at least a half hour, but really, if you can soak for more like an hour that’d be best.” She’s moving and talking so fast, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door, that Joel can barely stutter out his response, the flush creeping up his neck only burning brighter when he does.

“Wait– I thought you– um, I thought– would you– stay?” Fucking hell, just bury me now, why don’t you? Her eyes widen first, but then soften as a grin crooks across her lips.

“Joel Miller, are you asking me to join you?” 

“Only if you’d say yes.” Her grin broadens, beautiful and blinding. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

…

She realizes a bit too late that she’s nervous, her fingers trembling at the button of her jeans as they both silently undress. Her ears prick to the sound of a belt buckle clinking, the clean sweep of leather being pulled out of belt loops, followed by the quick thrum of a zipper. But she doesn’t look at him, not yet, to save what little nerve she still has worked up.

And then, when they’re both standing in a puddle of clothes, she wills her eyes to peel away from the tiled floor. She sees him in fragments, darting glances over sun-faded skin and soft strength, a thatch of dark curls that she tries not to stare at for too long. She finally looks at his face, and sees that he’s doing much the same, darkened eyes collecting her. She lets him.

“We should, um, we should get in– before the water gets cold.” She mentally kicks herself for the wobble in her voice, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, he doesn’t seem to notice at all, his eyes still roaming over her. She says his name, and his focus snaps back to attention.

“Um, right– I’ll just–” There’s nothing graceful about Joel Miller getting into a bathtub, and that’s how she knows she’s really taken with him, because somehow she still finds it endearing. And she just about swoons when he holds a hand out to her over the lip of the tub. 

She doesn’t let herself think too hard about it, sinking into the warm water, her back facing him as she sits down between his legs. A careful hand slips over her hip, causing her to peer over her shoulder at him.

“This ok?” She hums her affirmation, letting him guide her back until she’s pressed up against the warmth of his chest. His palm skates over the top of her thigh, arcing out of the water to rest on top of her bent knee. 

“Just relax, darlin.” “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s supposed to be relaxing.” She feels the vibration of his hummed response running up her spine, and it coaxes her to slump further against him, her head resting back on his shoulder.

“Oh, I am, believe me.” She laughs at that, though it fizzles out when his hand dips back down under the water, fingers curling at the crux of her thigh.

“Can I ask you something?” She’s a little too distracted by the way his thumb is rubbing circles into the soft inside of her thigh to be embarrassed by the breathy uh-huh she responds with.

“Heard a rumor about you from some of the women in town.” That makes her stiffen in his hold, only melting a little when he presses a sweet kiss to the side of her neck.

“I bet you heard a lot of rumors from them.” He hums again, low and gravelly.

“I did– but I really wanna know if this one is true.” She tilts her chin up, neck crooking to look at him and the faint smirk he’s sporting.

“They said they’ve seen you out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in your backyard.” Water splashes up against the sides of the tub as she laughs, squawks really, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and tangling her hands behind his neck. She can feel him, warm and hard, resting along her thigh as she straddles him, and she revels in the pretty flush that spreads across his cheeks. She’s got Joel Miller flustered, and she likes it. Taking him for all he’s worth, she leans in, letting her lips trace the shell of his ear as she speaks.

“Only on Halloween, baby.” His fingers grip a little tighter along the plush of her hips, and she has to giggle at the spluttering exhale he lets out.

“Jesus christ– are you serious?” She sighs, tilting her head at him as she tugs lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” He swallows her laugh, lips finally slotting with hers, his palm trailing up her spine to press her closer, and it’s right then that she realizes how badly she had been jonesing for a kiss from him. This one is different than any they’ve shared before. It’s a kiss that takes its time, a slow exploration punctuated by murmuring sighs and wandering hands. She finds that he’s a stubborn kisser, always trying to get the upper hand, his tongue swiping across her lip before licking into her mouth. But she doesn’t let him have it for long, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, reveling in the little groan he lets out and using it to her advantage as she presses closer to him, the peaked slopes of her nipples dragging across his chest. 

He shifts his hips down and away from the back of the tub, giving her space to wrap her legs around his waist, ankles grazing his low back and she thinks briefly that his bathroom is going to be a mess, water sloshing out over the sides of the tub with their increasingly frantic movements. Though she doesn’t have much time to worry about it when he ducks his head down, pressing a sweet kiss to her sternum that is starkly contrasted by the subsequent drag of his lips over one of her breasts, teeth grazing over her nipple before he laves his tongue over the bud. She lets out a gasp of his name when he sucks the delicate skin into his mouth, no longer trying to hold back the grind of her hips into the coarse hair covering his pelvis, his cock brushing up against her ass with the movement. Seemingly satisfied with his ministrations, he pulls away with a sweet little pop, his eyes impossibly darker as he looks at her.

“Want you, darlin, so bad. Can I– fuck– can I have you?” Afraid of what her voice might sound like, her response to him is another bruising kiss, tugging just a tad unkindly on his hair as she shifts her hips back, both of them groaning when her cunt grazes the underside of his cock. 

“Want you too, Joel, please.” She doesn’t care that it comes out like a whine, too preoccupied with chasing the pleasure of his cock rutting against where she wants him most. But she stills when Joel places a firm hand to her hip, her brow furrowing at him.

“We’re not doing this in a fucking bathtub, not the first time.” She splutters out a laugh at his very serious expression, but she realizes he’s not kidding when he gently untangles her legs from around him, tugging her up along with him, water going everywhere as they step out of the tub in a slipping tangle of limbs. She’s finding that she can’t get enough of him, stealing whatever kisses she can get as he pulls her into the bedroom, her lips dragging down the column of his throat and over the top of his chest. And then a quick blur and breathy oof from Joel has them tumbling back onto his bed, her palms splaying out over his chest as she straddles his hips. They don’t stay like that for long though, Joel squeezing her ass and rolling them over in a surprisingly smooth move, slotting himself between her spread thighs. 

All of a sudden, things start to move slower, thicker, as he drags a palm down her torso, flipping his wrist around when he reaches her pelvis and cupping her heat in a flat press. She cants her hips into his hold, sighing at the firm grind of the heel of his palm over her clit. And while it feels good, it isn’t what she really wants.

“Joel– don’t tease. I just, fuck– just want you.” He grins, the bastard, shifting his hand to dip two of his fingers against her entrance, the stretch sweet and stinging when he pushes in. 

“Not gonna tease you, darlin. Just wanna get you ready f’me. Fuck– you’re driving me crazy.” She knows that he’s not just being arrogant, having gotten a good look, and feel, of his cock, but the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping inside of her is only making her want him more.

“Please, please– I’m ready, I swear. Just, fucking–” He shushes her with a quick kiss, and by giving her what she wants, moving his hand away and hovering over her, the heavy heat of his cock resting against the apex of her thighs. 

It’s all quiet communication. He draws one palm along the outside of her thigh, coaxing her leg up, her knee resting against his waist as she opens up even more for him. She drags her hands down his chest, the soft pudge of his belly, before hooking them under and around to press into the shuddering muscles of his back. It’s a languid motion, her hips tilting up to meet his rolling forward, both of them letting out broken sighs as he fills her completely. 

“Fucking– s’perfect- you’re perfect– I can’t– I– christ.” He breathes out a hard exhale, resting his forehead against her sternum, hips still flush with hers. She presses a smattering of kisses to his hairline, coaxing him to look up at her.

“Don’t think christ has anything to do with it, baby.” His chuckle at her smug words turns into a low groan when she flutters around him, both of them going a little sick with the pleasure of it all.

“Can I move, darlin? Shit– I’m not gonna last like this– feels too fucking good.” All he needs is her jerky nod for him to arc his hips away before snapping back, deep and slow, finding a push and pull that has them both sighing with each thrust. It feels like he’s everywhere, his mouth open and hot across her chest, his damp hair tickling the skin over her collarbone, his murmuring groans mixing with each of her sighs, and his throbbing length, every inch of him spreading her open again and again and again. She has half a mind to be embarrassed by how quickly she’s tipping over the edge of pleasure, but she doesn’t care, not when Joel is coaxing her into it with low drawling praises.

“That’s it, honey– so good like this– so beautiful– shit– come for me, please– need to– need to feel you–” He brings a trembling hand down over her pelvis, deft fingers drawing circles over her clit and it becomes too much all at once, his name leaving her lips in a quiet cry as she falls apart around him. He fucks her through it, his pace slowing into more of a deep grind that jostles them further up the bed with each stroke. All she can do is hold on, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, her hitched heel pressing into his low back as he chases after his own high. She pieces herself together enough to drag her hand through his hair, pulling his face down so she can murmur in his ear.

“Want it so bad, Joel– please, baby– wanna see you come for me– let me see you– let me have it.” He groans out her name, sounding more like pain than pleasure as he pulls away, leaning back on his haunches to sloppily stroke his glistening cock. She moves in a haze of desire, scrambling onto her hands and knees, her face coming level with his flushed length as she drops her jaw and sticks her tongue out, spit pooling from want as she looks up at him through her lashes. 

She watches him closely as he comes with a slur of curses, breathless as the salt of his spend spurts onto her tongue, smudging across her lips and dripping down her chin. His shoulders slump, chest heaving as he runs a trembling hand through his hair, eyes not leaving hers as she sits back and swipes up the stray come on her skin, sucking her fingers into her mouth with a low hum. She’d never call that taste appealing, but the fact that it came from him, a sign of his pleasure which she had been sovereign over, sends a shiver up her spine as she swirls her tongue over her fingers. 

…

She’s trying to kill him, she has to be, with her little smile and the lewd pop of her fingers leaving her mouth.

“You’re fucking unreal, goddamn.” She laughs at his exclamation and he swallows the sound, pulling her in for a kiss, his mind going fuzzy at the taste of what he assumes is himself on her lips. Even though he feels like he just ran a marathon, he can’t help but deepen the kiss, their mouths molding and moving as they lay down in a close tangle. 

When they do pull away from each other, it’s with a shared sigh, and she rests her cheek on his chest, right where he knows she can hear his racing heart. She presses a kiss to that spot before tilting her chin up to look at him.

“I’m really glad you came back today, Joel.” His brow furrows, thinking back to earlier and the strange things she had said, her frantic greeting, and the relief that had been clear in her eyes. Another piece of her that he doesn’t quite understand. But he’s ok with that, with not knowing everything about her, at least not yet. She’s already unfurled so much of her life for him, and he’s prepared to wait patiently for whatever else she’ll offer him. As long as he gets to have her like this, warm and soft, keening into his touch, eyes hooded with a shared pleasure. 

No other words are needed, not right now. He coaxes her chin up with a gentle press of his fingers, stealing one more kiss before they both settle down in each other’s arms. 

................................

taglist (i added some folks i thought would like to be, let me know if you want added or dropped lmao) : @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh

[aka-indulgence]

Ravioli with children???? Who are not scared of him, cuz i wanted to draw an oc of mine giving him a hug :3

Ravioli, contrary to his, uh… whole face, is great with children! He always steer clear of bothering them, but he will occasionally try to say hi if they spot him while walking down the road. (It’s to be expected when most of them run away screaming as soon as they see him, but hey, adults do that too.) He likes to reward kids that are brave enough to walk up to him with candy or sometimes with a toy they want. Unlike with adults, he tries to be as less intimidating as possible. He’ll even return children who get lost in his woods, as opposed to making them lost like a lot of spooky things in the woods do (though this doesn’t stop some people from telling kids he’ll eat them to keep them out of the woods.)

Would definitely spook the parents if they saw him, though fjhdfjhd

[blackreaderfics]

🎃Wildcard | Jason Todd x Reader🎃

↳ Pairing : TitansDCverse!Jason Todd x Virgin!Reader

↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : A round of Cards Against Humanity gets a little wild during “Game Night” at Titans Tower

↳ W.C : ~3.4k

↳ A/N : welcome to spooky season. this is my first ever fic for kinktober🧡👻 idk if this is controversial buuut I love that actor’s portrayal of Jason🫣

↳ Tags + Warnings: dubcon elements, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, orgy, stripping, degradation (“slut”), coercion, alcohol consumption (beer), teabagging, bullyish!jason x shyish!reader, reader wears glasses, reader is a virgin, jason is kinda a dickhead lol, side characters (rachel, rose, gar, and conner) are there, for sake of convenience they’re all 21+

“Oh come on,” Jason groaned exasperatedly as you set your glasses on the coffee table. “Glasses don’t fucking count!”

After a successful mission and saving the world for the hundredth time, the Titans decided to unwind in the best way they knew how: a night in with board games and beer.

As usual, Jason had tried to make the games a little bit more exciting by adding a “fun twist”. Jenga became a drinking game; drink if you make the tower fall. Uno had become “draw or dare”, you could choose to draw four cards or get off scot-free by doing a dare. 

The “grownups” of the team—Dick, Kory, Hank, and Dawn— had excused themselves to do “grownup things” leaving you and the remaining group of young adults in the living room. Currently, you were now in the middle of another particularly heated game of Cards Against Humanity, the interesting twist being the person with the best card could choose for someone to strip an article of clothing.

Jason had been targeting you the whole night; teasing you for the baggy clothes you always wore. Purposely, just to annoy him, you’d only taken off your accessories and your zip-up hoodie.

Admittedly the clothes you wore didn’t really fit you right. You’d opted to wear oversized sweaters over fitted shirts, and unflattering pants over a more hip-hugging and slimming fit. Before you became a Titan, you were shyer than you were now. It had only been recently when you started to come out of your shell and get closer to your teammates. 

“Be for real. Glasses do so count!” You retorted. You had all but discarded your outer layers and were now left in pants and a tank top. You could take up a few turns with your socks and shoes if you needed to.

“Why do you guys wear so many layers?” Gar piped up. All he had on were his boxers and a single sock. Conner, who was sitting next to him, was equally fucked, only, with no socks as a buffer.

“Because we play idiotic games like this,” Rachel remarked dryly while drawing an extra card from the pile.

You and Rachel were the only ones currently safe from any unnecessary exposure. Rachel did wear a lot of layers, and despite having lost multiple rounds, still looked very much clothed. Rose sat far off on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal looking on with about as much judgment as a girl with one working eye could. 

“You know, offer still stands. You can still join us, Rose,” Jason addressed the grey-haired, eye-patch-wearing girl without looking up from the cards in his hands.

“Hard pass. I’d rather watch you losers get destroyed.” She then unceremoniously returned to munching on her cornflakes.

Your gaze settled on Jason who’d shed his leather jacket and still remained in a plain black tee and jeans. He was unfairly attractive in the most basic of clothes. And though you hated his playground jibes and dirty humor, you couldn’t help but develop a little bit of a crush on the messy-haired boy. When his eyes caught yours, you could see the wheels in his brain practically turning as his smirk grew wider.

“How about…” He started slowly, “Boys versus girls. If you guys win, then we’ll get naked. If we win, you guys get naked.”

Of course he would suggest that, you thought to yourself glumly. The thought of showing your naked body to your crush didn’t excite you, it only made you more nervous.

“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re losing,” you said, masking your anxiety with a chug of your beer, “Conner’s literally only got his underwear left.” 

Conner, hearing his name, suddenly perked up. “For the record, I have x-ray vision. I can already see everything anywa—” Gar nudged him in the ribs to keep him from talking.

Jason shook his head. “It’s no fun if we already know who’s gonna win. Let’s vote on it then. Who here agrees to a wildcard match?” He raised his hand, and predictably the two other boys followed suit. “And who wants to play the way we’ve been playing; the boring virgin Y/N way?” He taunted cheekily.

You felt your cheeks warm again. He was never letting you live down the fact that you had confessed you were still a virgin during a past game of “Never Have I Ever”. You raised your hand and looked around for support. “Rachel,” you hissed desperately when you found she had not raised her hand. 

“Seriously? They suck at this game. It’s not like they’re gonna suddenly win out of nowhere," Rachel whispered back.

“In that case, I’ll play too,” Rose hopped off the counter and plopped on the couch next to you. 

“So nice of you to finally join us,” Jason crooned. “I’ll let you do the honors.” He passed her the deck he’d been shuffling for her to deal and sat back. 

After Rose had dealt all the cards, you looked at your hand. The deck you were playing with was a custom-made deck that Dick had ordered to round out the Tower’s impressive board game collection.

As a collective, you all pooled in ideas resulting in a deck of cards ranging from the peculiar to the mundane; from “taking shots off Nightwing’s ass”; to “Batman’s Worst Nightmare”; to names of each of your superhero aliases including all of the Justice League. For some reason, however, all the cards in your current hand were names.

“Make me laugh,” Rose ordered primly as she set down her card and folded her arms in expectation. It read: 

“If I could fuck anyone right now, I would fuck ______”

“Damn,” Rachel sounded impressed, “that’s certainly one way to start a round.”

Gar immediately threw his card down, followed by Rachel, then Jason. Only Conner and you were left.

“Time’s ticking Y/N,” Jason tapped a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Usually you would fire a comeback at him, but this time you could only frown as you chose your safest option and slid it tentatively over to the pile in the middle. 

“Time’s up, Conner,” Rose said as she gathered the cards. He passed it over face down, obviously not very happy about his choice. 

“Okay, we have a ‘Wonder Woman’,  a ‘Poison Ivy’….” She glanced around the room to see if anyone would give themselves away. “A ‘Robin’—wait...” She barked out a laugh. “I can’t not address this. I pick this one. Who fucking put down Robin?”

The room erupted into fits of laughter rivaling a high school classroom as they watched you sigh and bashfully raise your hand. 

“Oh, would you now?” Jason raised a curious eyebrow at you. 

“I-in my defense, there’s more than one Robin,” you sputtered pitifully before he could tease you further. You watched him stand up and begin to raise his shirt, giving you an eyeful of v-line and toned midriff. “W-what are you doing! I didn’t pick you!” 

Despite being only in a tank top, you felt yourself getting hot. Gar and Conner had equally toned bodies, but they weren’t affecting you the way Jason had been. Just to spite you, he kept his eyes on yours as he raised his shirt as suggestively as possible, bringing it up over his head and tossing it in a pile on his leather jacket.

“Just giving the person who wants to ‘fuck me right now’ a little preview.” He said, smile smug like he was doing charity for letting you see his 6-pack. 

Yea, real fucking Mother Theresa.

“Well, too bad I can barely see it.” You waved a hand in front of your face, “No glasses remember?”

“Come sit on my lap, mama, I’ll give you a closer look.” Jason plopped back on the sofa, abs flexing as he reclined with his legs spread wide, inviting you to sit with a pat on his thigh and a wicked smirk to match.

“Ugh, gross,” Rose made a face but appeared to be humored by Jason’s antics. 

“Anyway,” you interrupted desperately trying to change the subject. “Since I won, technically that means the girls won too. Rules are rules.” 

You had barely even finished your sentence when the boys immediately moved to take off their clothes. Your mouth went dry as they sat nonchalantly before you now, cocks resting against their stomachs.

In any other situation, you’d probably find this extremely inappropriate. They were your teammates. Sure, you lived together and had walked in on the occasional member changing or just getting out of the shower, but you were a bit buzzed off of the booze already, and this was different— you couldn’t help but stare.

“So uh…what now?” Gar’s nervous laugh broke the silence and everyone turned towards him; he blushed under the newfound attention.

“New game?” Conner suggested. He appeared to be just as clueless as Gar but with less of the blushing.

Rose looked over at you and Rachel for guidance, but seeing as neither of you knew how to react, the grey-haired girl merely shrugged back at the boys. “I’m down.”

“Ok, new game,” Jason agreed. “If you can make all of us cum in 10 minutes then the girls can get TV remote control privileges for the rest of the year.”

“All of you including Conner?” You asked brow raised, “He’s a super, that’s not fair.”

“What? It’s not like he has ‘super cum control’ too.”

“Actually, yea I—”

“Don’t answer that,” Jason cut in, annoyed. “Ok fine, I’ll give a handicap. If you can make one of us cum in 5 minutes untouched then the TV’s all yours.”

“Do you think we’re stupid, Todd?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Well…” He paused and tapped a finger to his chin to consider Rachel’s rhetorical question, flinching playfully when she raised her fist to jab in his direction. “Ok ok, but 5 minutes is a long time!”

“I meant the untouched part.”

“Your handicap is you can’t touch us, and our handicap is Logan.” He jabbed a thumb to gesture at Gar who looked like he was meditating to calm himself down. “He’ll probably reach the big ‘O’ before he reaches nirvana.”

“Deal, but if it’s gonna be like that then let’s raise the stakes a little.” Rose countered. “Not just remote control privileges. We get control privileges. Over you guys. If we win, you have to do whatever we say for the rest of the year.”

Jason fished his phone out from the pocket of his jacket and set the timer for 5 minutes. “And if we win, the same for us too.” He started the timer and sat back.

You, Rachel, and Rose made a beeline for Gar, who’d still had his eyes squeezed closed in the middle of the sofa.

“Fuckin’ hell, I should’ve known you’d try ‘n cheat,” Jason grumbled and stopped the timer. “No double or triple-teaming. One to one only and I get to choose the pairs.”

“And why should you be the one to choose that?” You turned toward him, trying (and failing) not to look at his dick. It was long and thick, with a slight curve and a pretty pink color at the tip.

“‘Cuz you wanna fuck me so bad,” he simpered, an impish grin playing on his lips.

“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes.

“Let him choose,” Rose challenged unfazed at Jason’s constant goalpost moving. “Whatever strategy he thinks he has isn’t gonna work.”

Jason ignored her and carried on with making the pairs. “Rachel and Conner, Rose and Gar.” He pointed directly at you, “You and me.”

Upon his directions, the three of you moved to stand in front of your now-designated partners. Finally satisfied, Jason set the timer again and pressed start. Almost immediately Rachel and Rose set to work on their mission, stripping their clothes down to their underwear. You tentatively followed suit, shimmying out of your jeans and kicking them aside. Jason eyed you, fully reclined in his seat with his hands comfortably behind his head. 

“Well, this is gonna be easier than I thought,” He yawned, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

“I doubt your porn-addled brain has ever seen a real woman before, Jason.” The taunts you directed at him should’ve sounded more confident, but instead were dulled by your nervous fidgeting at the hem of your shirt. 

This was the first time you’d ever been half-naked in front of a boy. And not just any boy, but a boy you liked. But the way he always seemed to tease you and make sexually insensitive jokes at your expense made you anxious. It wasn’t overt bullying, but the little comments he would sneak here and there were beginning to eat at you. If you showed him any more of your body, would he make fun of you even more?

“Trust me, I’ve seen plenty,” He assured, “But how ‘bout you jog my memory and demonstrate?” His gaze moved down your chest and back up to your eyes, daring you to take it off. 

You fidgeted again under his stare, feeling a sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and something else you could quite place. When you glanced over to the other pairs, Rachel had already taken her top off and Rose was in the middle of a strip tease. 

“Four minutes,” Jason announced, with a bored expression. 

Feeling a sense of urgency, you pulled off your tank top, exposing your lacy bra. When his dick twitched, both your eyes shifted to the hardening situation in his lap. You could see him fighting the urge to touch himself now, and that gave you a burst of confidence. 

Rachel and Rose were now in between Gar and Conner’s legs, not touching them, but teasing them by blowing hot air on their cocks. You followed suit, with only three minutes left you had to do something. After all, forfeiting your will to the whims of three boys with raging hormones didn’t seem like a fun idea, especially since you knew how playfully vindictive they could get. They’d probably try and make you human furniture or whatever other sick and twisted thing they could think of. You shuddered at the thought of the kind of torture they could come up with.

You sank to your knees and sat between Jason’s legs. You watched him involuntarily swallow and sit up straighter, pulling his hands down from his head to steady himself and clutch at the couch cushion beneath him. 

“Three minutes,” Jason glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t as confident as he was before. If anything, he seemed much more distracted by your presence at his feet.

Satisfied with his change in demeanor, you only smiled at him, fluttering your lashes at him as you brought your mouth closer to his balls. You opened your mouth and exhaled softly.

He hastily brought a hand to his cock—beads of precum already spilling from its tip—and made minute motions with the pad of his thumb to calm himself down. His chest raised with shallow breaths as he looked down at you now, eyes heavily lidded with lust and wanting. 

“Fuck it—” He hissed and without warning, reached his other hand around the back of your head, pushing your nose into his balls as he began to jerk off. Your eyes widened, taken by surprise at his sudden actions.

From where you were kneeling you could already see Rachel and Rose giving their partners full-on blowjobs, completely forgetting the game they had agreed to earlier. The sensation in your stomach moved down to your clothed sex, and you could feel a tingling sensation as he rubbed your face obscenely against his balls, moaning with need.

“Open your mouth —oh fuck— please.” His voice sounded strangled as he held you at the base of his cock, masturbating desperately to chase his release.

You obliged his request, opening up and taking his balls into your mouth, looking up at him as you felt his grip on the nape of your neck tighten. He was clearly getting off from the sight of you beneath him, massaging thoroughly with the flat of your tongue. He brought your head back and, with his other hand, held his cock by the base. 

He groaned again when he saw your lips now glossy with spit. “Open f’me again, baby?” he asked despite the fact that the tip of his cock was already being pressed to your lips. Your cheeks warmed as he let out a moaning “fuuuck” when you opened your mouth again to allow him inside. He pushed your head down deeper to take all of him in, and your eyes began to water as the tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat. 

“You don’t know how fucking pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he murmured, releasing the pressure off your head for you to catch your breath. He let out a short laugh as if your gasping for air was funny to him.

“Had no idea you were such a fucking slut under all those clothes. How’re you a virgin when you’re takin’ my cock this good, hm?” His voice was gentle and soft but borderline condescending as he spoke. 

Jason brushed away a tear from your eye and leaned over to bring you into an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. A string of saliva connected at both of your lips when you separated. 

“Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it open,” He instructed. Within seconds he was guiding your head back on his cock, bucking up into your mouth and against your throat. You made a garbled sound, which only seemed to make him thrust harder. 

“Oh fu— that’s so fuckin’ good, baby keep doin’ that,” he moaned, though you weren’t doing much except letting your head loll up and down like a brainless doll with the support of his hand at the back of your neck. 

The living room was now filled with the pleasured moans of the three boys and the gagging ‘gluck gluck’ sounds of the three girls as each of them fucked into your mouths, getting off on the lewdly slick sounds of their cocks pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm. Your mouths became just another hole for them to fuck.

“Shit—” His hips stuttered; he was close. He brought both hands to your head pushing it down so your nose pressed against his base. “You know how to swallow right, baby?” He grunted. 

You couldn’t respond with words readily—your nose was plugged and his cock clogged your windpipe— instead, your throat closed over his tip, as if a Pavlovian response to his question. He groaned and not shortly after, you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. 

When his softening cock finally left your mouth, you swallowed his sticky release as best as you could with your punished throat. He swiped some of the cum the had dribbled down your lips with his thumb and pushed it past your lips, making you suck it. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly as he watched you suck his thumb, mesmerized by the way your eyes locked on him. A loud moan from Gar interrupted, making both you and Jason tear your eyes off each other. The green-haired boy was currently stroking his cum onto Rose’s waiting tongue. About a minute later, Conner came too. 

It was only then that you realized that Jason had come the fastest; faster than the “handicap” he’d claimed Gar to be.

“So…I’m guessing that means we won?” Rachel had already started pulling her clothes back on. Since she started dressing, everyone else mundanely followed suit. 

Jason tugged his jeans back on, “Sure. Fine. Whatever, we’re all yours for the next three months,” he sounded less than enthused but still took the time to find your discarded tank top and jeans and toss them over to you as well.

Rose threw her shirt back on and adjusted her eyepatch. “Girls, what are we thinking? Anything we want our new servants to do for us?”

“Hmm…” You tapped your chin in mock thought, giving Jason a sly look that could give one of his own cheeky smirks a run for its money. “Oh, I‘ve got a few ideas.”

©️ blackreaderfics // dividers by cafekitsune & poison-aesthetics

[7-wonders]

It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why. 

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.” 

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.” 

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric. 

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?” 

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events. 

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

[meanbossart]

Just gotta say that the way you draw facial expressions is soooo dynamic, and your art makes me grin with equal feral glee when I see it. 🥰

I love your spooky smiley deranged durge, will you tell me more facts about them?

Thank you so much! And YES i certainly can uuhhh lets see

-In my personal canon he has no name, having first assumed to have forgotten it along with everything else and later being told/figuring out that he renounced any in favor of being called Bhaalspawn, Slayer, Death Bringer, Bhaaling, and any number of edgy titles we hear throughout the game lol he did this pre-tadpole to emphasize his birth-right and deny himself any personal identity. He never picked a name for himself post-tadpole and everyone just refers to him as The Drow, Astarion also calls him his usual pet names.

-He's not necessarily one for luxuries but still likes pretty, ostentatious things, especially jewelry. Pre-tadpole DU drow wore them generously, post-tadpole doesn't understand his own fascination, but he likes wearing rings and holds some sentimentality for specific pieces. (he never threw away the "magic" ring he stole from the tiefling child in act 1)

-Every expression of love and affection he had pre-tadpole came out pretty twisted, but with this in mind he very much adored Orin, though you would never guess it from seeing how they interacted with each other.

-The patterned scars on his chest, face and neck were mostly self inflicted (the rest he had Orin's help for). The one's on his arms were an "accident" kinda but he still put them there willingly (and gleefully lol)

-He has a borderline irrational hatred for drow women. He hates drows in general, though mostly because they're uptight and snobby and less so because of, yknow, all the slavery and child killing etc.

-Despite looking evil as hell he's very much morally neutral post-tadpole. He's pretty much a "do what you have to do to survive" kind of guy - and sometimes a "because i want to" kind of guy lol.

-He thinks very highly of himself which makes him overly bold. This got him through the whole campaign and destroying the brain but it also makes him a huge liability LOL its also a source of conflict in his and Astarion's relationship because he lowkey doesn't think Astarion can make it without him - he continuously and completely fails to realize how this is an issue.

-The only other people he has respect for and trusts are Shadowheart, Astarion and Jaheira. Ironically these are all people he didn't get along with well at all at the start.

-He's kind of a hopeless romantic, he's just weird about it. He's pretty much picked Astarion as his person and kind of devotes his life to him now, sometimes to a troubling extent.

-I'm writing a whole story that takes place post-game here where you can gleam a lot more about his character and learn things that i can't share yet because it would be a spoiler hint hint nudge nudge

[sugarpasteltmnt]

I've been compleatly OBSSESED with neon void so far!!! It's by far my favorite fic of any I've read!! After every chapter I have to take a second to do the happy stimmies because you write all of the scenes so well. Whenever I see a new update I clear the next hour for reading it and the subsequent geek out sesion for how AMAZING it always is. You write extremely well, you convey the characters so acurately, the fight scenes are creative, the way you write Leo's perspective is AMAZING, love the font changes, the angst PALPABLE, and just over all I love everything you're able to do with this concept. The way you can see Leo's mental state deteriorating through out the fic is just *chefs kiss*. There's so much I love about the fic that I can't possibly list everything.

Also the established difference between teleporting and portaling is so great, it adds to the pure panic that void causes for the boys aside from, y'know, crazy dude capable of beating Big Mama within an inch of her life and STRAIGHT UP OFFING a buch of other yokai. It does wonders for establishing him as a threat even though he technically isn't for the turtles. Plus I'm sure that once they find out who Void really is, it will add a bunch of tension since they'll need to stop Leo from literally SCATTERING HIS ATOMS ACROSS SPACE.

AND THE CHAPTER PREVIEW ISTG I've never gotten so much serotonin from being in this much pain ;0; The gif is perfect to set the mood, I can't wait to see what happens. You're ablility to choose just the right thing to stab so many people directly through the heart is nothing short of super-natural. BUT PLEASE give the boi some happiness, if not for his sake, for mine-

ANYWAYS this is all a VERY long way of saying, I absolutely love this and I had to draw the silly boi being the silly boi. I needed to draw him happy for the health of my heart ;-; (don't worry though, I'm working on some tasty angst right now)

Can't wait to see where everything goes, GOOD LUCK TO CASEY but there only six chapters left so we're getting to the end game now >:D

Please have a wonderful rest of your week :D

THANK U SO MUCH ;w; I’m so so happy that my fight scenes are followable/enjoyable, and tho they are a binch to code I’m so happy you enjoy the funky fonts and formatting ;w; i know reading blocks of text can be intimidating/tiring for readers, so i try to break it up to help with the pacing and sprinkle in some fun, spooky fonts as treats 🩵

Something i really, REALLY loved about Rise was the fights. Not only was the animation amazing, but it was always so creative. I try my best to make the fight scenes as silly as the boys can be, while utilizing their adaptive skills to use their surroundings to their advantage.

And bruh trying to balance Leo’s insanity in a believable way has been such a (fun) challenge so it makes me so happy to hear you like it 😭🥺 and I’m so glad people seem to like the ‘teleportation’ gimmick I’ve got going on (and that it hopefully makes sense omg)

(And i will admit I’m a little proud of my chapter previews because they are so fun to write, and i like to reassure readers that 1) i have a plan and 2) I’m keeping myself accountable to finish LOL)

Also aksdlaskdhaksdh thank u for this art this part especially is SENDING ME WHEEZE 🤣🩵❗️

[factual-fantasy]

29 asksss

Yes

@britneyt

Aw! Thank you! :DD

@gilbertsphotography

The elven style ears are meant to make them look less human and to match the Wario bros. :0 My AU's Peach and Daisy are these tall elf like creatures, not humans. They are the same species as the Wario bros.

Jangles would prepare himself for this brutal duel in "put em up" type battle stance. Ready to give this fight his all.

Only to be squashed by Jangle. Alas, he is made of plastic <XDD

@pinkpenguin88888

XDD Thought that was a bunny at first-

:DD Thank you! But hey, nothing's stopping you from book marking the post or saving the link to it somewhere :0

@whereismycupofcoffee

Honestly I have no hope. I'm thinking its gonna bomb like the Ruin DLC did, lore wise. Calling it now there's gonna be a character named VANESSA and her nickname is VANNY even though this movie is about the first game and has NOTHING TO DO WITH VANESSA. There's gonna be a kid named Cassidy, another kid named Gregory, circus baby is gonna come out of nowhere, there's gonna be a nightmare animatronic reference, one kid is gonna look like the crying child for no reason, Springtrap is gonna talk a lot and take away the horror- its gonna be a mess. The lore will be a terrible. mess.

Horror wise it might be awesome but I am NOT looking forward to all the crap they're gonna mix in with the lore. Its soooo simple, just make a spooky movie that captures the terror that the first game created. Recreate the mystery and horror. Bonnie disappearing, Foxy running down the hall. Freddy's music. Maybe Golden Freddy?? Hints of a darker past with dead kids. It would be awesome. They don't gotta complicate the lore by adding all the other games into it but I know they will-

@palettepainter :DD Thank you!!

@randox-talore Nope! The flowers don't make them bigger. They just give the bros ice/fire powers :}

@devastatorst

Pretty much XDD

@andysalleyway

:DDD Thank you so much!! Honestly I'm surprised by the number of my followers that are into the same fandoms I'm into. Sounds like I've found my people! XDD

Thanks, I'm hoping it finally gets through to people and they'll just leave me alone..

It is! But ya gotta DM me for it so I can sus out your blog :x

I need to have some idea of who I'm letting in-

:DD Thank you so much! Also sorry, I don't take requests :/

@montygatorshusband

THANK YOU! I don't support any ships from any fandoms, I just personally don't like them. So having people harp on me and my AU because a "canon ship" isn't in it was really annoying.. 😓

Glamrock Bonnie and Foxy would be thinking "Wow, they look different/great! :00"

Glamrock Freddy and Chica are like "WHY IS BONNIE SO LARGE"

Oooo that would be cool! All my versions of Bonnie are slow, so having him throw things at Gregory would be terrifying-

@ocinstituterep

The reason why I haven't drawn any classic mermaids like that is because it felt kind'a weird to add a half human creature into the Octonauts universe. Considering humans don't exist in it.. Now that post with the mermaid thing actually has the creature looking humanoid for sure. Because it would look more alien if it was human. But I kept the scales because a straight up half human mermaid would just feel out of place-

@mashmellowy

Firealpaca! :}}

@oddesto

XD Thank you!! Also my WHOLE BLOG?? Dang. I apologize for all the Gravity falls cringe you had to see-

XD Factual Fanta, that's great 🤣🤣

@citrusfruitman

I think those people are just salty because they wanna draw my stuff but I wont let them. My true fans will have basic human respect and just not draw fanart without sending me hate and rude comments.

@danman22ful

Monty is much more mellow and kind in the Partial swap. Although he still can be a bit of a grump sometimes. The way Bonnie is treating everyone (mostly Foxy) really angers/upsets him.

Roxy hasn't changed a whole lot tbh. Full of grief and self loathing. Except I don't think she'd have this "I'm better than you" attitude. Her thinking that Freddy's death was her fault would crush her. Just like Monty was crushed in the OG au.

:DDD Thank you!! Also really? :00 Wow, great minds do think alike! XD

Aw, I'm sorry that you relate to Bonnie's struggles, <:(

I was thinking he would do 1 of 2 things.

Either this bombshell that his late friends of 10 years are alive, would be so emotionally overwhelming that he would completely shut down. Literally. They would break into his room and Bonnie is collapsed on the floor. And cannot be reactivated. And when he does eventually reactivate, he absolutely refuses to acknowledge or speak to anyone in anyway..

OR, hearing that Chica and Freddy are alive, would completely drown out any other feeling. They're alive, he would rush out of his room to go see them. All of his stress, all of his anger would be swept away in favor of his anxiousness to see his friends again. And finally, he would talk to people again somewhat. Every day would get easier knowing that once its over he can go see Freddy and Chica again.

I haven't decided which one is better <XD

@burningmusicfunnygiant (Post in question)

Oh a whole mix of emotions. Mostly joy and sadness though.. Joy to see them alive after all these years. But sadness too see the horrible states they're in.. Mostly Freddy's state-

<XD Don't worry I wont. I know some of the angsty bits of Bluey but not enough to draw stuff and traumatize you all-

You are spared this time! XDD

[romione-trope-fest]

Thunderstorms

Title: Thunderstorms

Author: Mertronus

Tropes: OOTP Missing Moment & Cockblocker Harry

Summary: A thunderstorm shakes things up inside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place

Rated T

Word Count: 1190

No Trigger Warnings…unless thunderstorms aren’t your thing

A loud clap of thunder sounded throughout the house, and the room was momentarily illuminated by a flash of lightning. Hermione pulled the blanket closer around her as she tried her best to read through the storm, but the truth was, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was dark, gloomy, and spooky on its own. Add a raging summer thunderstorm to the mix…

And it was downright awful.

Hermione threw her book onto her bed as another clap of thunder sounded. She looked over to the other bed where Ginny slept. Ginny could sleep through anything.

Much like your brother, Hermione thought with a sigh.

The thought of Ron had Hermione on her feet, wrapping her dressing gown around her and shoving her feet into her slippers. If a book couldn’t distract her, maybe Ron could.

Ron and Harry…

Yes, she would find the boys and they would keep her mind off the storm.

Hermione thought that the house was quiet given the amount of occupants in it…surely they weren’t all asleep already?

No, she knew that at the very least, Harry and Ron were awake. They never went to bed early.

She crept toward the stairs to head to the next floor where the boys’ bedroom was, but as she passed the drawing room, a flash of red hair caught her eye. She quickly redirected her steps and poked her head into the room.

Ron sat in the corner playing a solitary game of chess. When her feet hit a creaky floorboard, his head snapped up.

“Hey,” he called out quietly. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said entering the room fully. “I’m fine. What are you doing in here alone?” She perched on the sofa closest to where Ron sat. “Where is everyone?”

Ron sat back in the chair and stretched. His too-short pajama shirt lifted a bit when his long arms stretched over his head, and Hermione caught a glimpse of her best friend’s pale, flat stomach. It was littered with freckles, as was every other part of Ron’s body that Hermione had seen, and she could just make out a thin, light trail of red hair leading down toward—

“Hermione?”

“Hm, what?” Hermione jumped and stared at Ron wide-eyed.

“I said Ginny’s asleep I suspect?”

“Yes,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. “Yes, yes Ginny’s already asleep. In our room. Where I just was…in bed. My bed. Where did you say everyone was?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Mum and Dad are in bed, Fred and George are doing Godric knows what in their room, and last I saw Harry he was with Buvkbeak and Sirius.”

“Oh?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah. I came down here to give them a moment. Felt like Harry might need some time with his Godfather before we head back to school.”

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed. The constant worry about Harry sometimes plagued her. At least here, at Grimmauld, not only was Harry safe, but there were so many others to worry over him as well.

“What about you?” Ron asked as he stood to join her on the small sofa. “Can’t sleep?”

Their legs brushed as he sat, and her breath caught. Even with all of the times she and Harry had touched or bumped into one another in some way, and yet she never felt the way she did when Ron was so much as a foot away from her. In the same room even.

“No,” Hermione said pulling her legs up onto the sofa and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees and looked at Ron. “Can’t sleep.”

A roll of thunder sounded in the distance and Hermione watched the realization cross Ron’s eyes. “The storm.” Hermione nodded. “You’ve never liked storms.” Hermione shook her head. “I think it’s passing though,” Ron offered.

Hermione shrugged. “I think we’re still in for a long night.” As if to verify her thoughts, thunder sounded and it was much louder than it had been just a few moments before…closer. Hermione itched to move closer to Ron, but that would mean admitting that she was even more scared than she’d ever let on.

Ron shifted on the sofa, angling his body to face her. “Hermione if—”

Just then several claps of thunder rang out so loudly that the house seemed to shake from the sound alone. Hermione shrieked and jumped, then hid her face as she tried to calm herself from the fright.

It’s just a storm…nature…happens all the time…nothing to be afraid of. Pull yourself together Granger!

“Shhh, it’s alright,” a soft voice cooed in her ear. She buried her face in deeper and took a shaky breath.

It wasn’t until the smell of Ron invaded her senses that she registered where she was.

His hands were rubbing her back, his arms wrapped around her. Her face was buried in his chest as her hands grasped his shirt for dear life. His warm thighs were under her bum…

Hermione had literally lept into Ron’s lap.

With wide eyes, she raised her face to look up at Ron. She mentally prepared herself for the teasing, the jokes…but she was only met with a look of concern.

“Y’alright?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“M’sorry,” she mumbled, moving to get herself off her lap.

Ron’s arms tightened around her. “It’s okay. But are you okay?”

Hermione gazed at Ron, his face no more than an inch from hers. Thunder sounded outside, but she never felt safer.

“I am now,” she whispered.

One side of Ron’s mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and Hermione’s eyes drifted down to his lips. She wondered how it would feel to press her lips to his…just once. She wasn’t sure if she was leaning into him, or if he was leaning into her.

Or if they were simply leaning into one another.

Time seemed to stop as their mouths seemed to be no more than a breath apart. She could smell the sweet chocolate on his breath. Another breath and—

“That was a loud one, wasn’t it?” Harry called as he entered the drawing room. Hermione jumped up at the first sound of his voice and turned to act as if she were looking out of the window. “You alright, Hermione?”

“Fine,” she breathed out as she tried her best to reign in every emotion that was coursing through her body.

“That last hit of thunder spooked Buckbeak so bad, Sirius and I had a rough time settling him.”

Hermione turned from the window and found that Harry had taken her place on the sofa beside a very red Ron.

“He’s alright now?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the sofa. “Yeah, he’s fine now.”

“Good,” Hermione nodded. “Well, I’m going off to bed. You two need to do the same.”

Without another glance at Ron, Hermione hurried out of the room.

[irradiatedsnakes]

btw in the tmagp launch celebratory stream alice's voice actor said her favorite scene that'd been recorded by that point was "alice and sam go to a place". so i suppose we'll be getting that next week :]

other notes. this statement (hey! actually a statement this time! what the fuck) was SOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

the cursed dice angle is so good, the way the statement giver took on that role (roll), played the part, UGH it's so fun. the theme of choice that was brought up is also so good- just. ONE more roll for old time's sake :) especially given that this is a TMI statement and how HUGE IMPORTANT of a theme choice and free will were in tma, felt very fitting. fantastic, loved that.

continuing on my stuff about the entities in tmagp- once again some things here feel very on the nose, particularly the statement giver literally calling himself a mysterious stranger. this feels like a fun little red herring to me, for people a bit hung up on the entities stuff. that's how i interpreted it, anyways. i wanna know more about this world so fucking bad, dude.

also, the institute's in manchester in tmagp, not chelsea/london. which means no milbank prison, no panopticon. interesting. (though soemthing that was known from the arg already- i really need to deep dive on that. tomorrow, maybe.) statement taking and artifact storage are still a thing, evidently, but noting that there's no mention of an archivist or anything like that. and the subject/agent/catalyst stuff, that's Very interesting.

once again, chester bringing up a magnus-related statement, here in obvious reply to what sam was talking about- just when he was considering to celia about dropping his investigations- clearly (imo) to goad him into not leaving it behind. excellent. and fun given the first TMI-related incident with redcanary had the obvious conclusion of THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE IS WEIRD AND DANGEROUS while also having enough mystery to draw sam in further. sam's seen the canary die in the coalmine and has made the decision to keep digging and that's fantastic.

now! characters! sam's paperwork :) VERY intriguing that he's getting all this stuff and celia's got none of it- he said it was due to that box about the response department, but i've got my doubts about that being the reason he's being saddled with all this weird stuff. also the questions on the thing made me laugh, very good. sam and celia have such good interactions, i love how they bounce off each other. also, with regards to the paperwork- i think there's a connection to be made about the statement giver's continued rolling of the dice (it always felt like my choice.) and sam filling out all this creepy, utterly pointless paperwork to "refuse to give it the satisfaction of giving up".

GWEN AND LENA. nigel dickerson, you know, from tv? possibly. i don't watch television. i do hope we'll be seeing exactly what gwen is being told to do next episode.. delivering something, keeping calm, recording the detailed reactions to what's being delivered. maybe we'll get a bit more of a clue as to what the oair is actually for. i do like that gwen's not become one bit less indignant, skeptical, and disrespectful towards lena now that she's got this job. i'm very excited to see her on her fist job she's gonna suck at it i think

i'll admit i was a little surprised to see teddy again. i was worried for a sec he might be going in the direction of getting dragged back to the oair, but nah. not yet, at least :) and ALICE. ALIIIIICE auaaaaagh!!! i don't know if i have much to say baout this part that isn't just (shaking a plushie in my mouth like a dog). very neat that she has agreed to help sam investigate this and actually go to the institute when she's been so staunchly don't get caught up in the creepy stuff! leave the magnus institute stuff ALONE you don't want to get into this spooky shit! like.. she does not want to get involved with spooky shit and she doesn't want sam to get involved with spooky shit but she cares about him and their friendship a lot and this is obviously important to him. so. (plus, the thing about alice's brother having been at the institute alongside sam and gerry..) i like them both so much. i am so excited for next weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek