#and then i just languish UGH

[skitskatdacat63]

I feel uninspired and lack motivation for art again so I thought of an ask game for me :)

Send me(or comment) a number from 1-34 and I will draw my corresponding oc

I mentally struggled over whether I should make this post, because ik ocs are niche and probably not many people care for it, but I realized I could have been using those hours to y'know. Actually draw something. So I might as well just post it

[muffinrag]

girlies I am in hell

[twinklepuzzle]

Don't want to go to bed bc I finished a good fic and I'm upset that it's over. Has nothing to do with sleep, I'm just pouting about it

[mechaknight-98]

Home Run (NSFW) Ft. Sohee

The winner of poll for Wednesday’s fic. Hope y'all enjoy.

Sohee had always loved baseball for the entirety of your relationship. It was so all-consuming that you often wondered if she loved the "sport" more than you. You couldn't stand the sport however mostly because of its glacial pace, and lack of stacks in moment-to-moment play. Rugby was more your speed, but you learned the tells and watched 4 full seasons of Eagles games. at this point, you knew the sport almost inside and out begrudgingly, but you loved Sohee and she did make it worth your while. when watching the last game of the season you partially zoned out as a new game on the switch came out. so you were enjoying that Muted so Sohee could get the full experience of watching her team. As the game winded down you looked towards the stat sheet to catch up on what was going on.

"Ugh well, there goes our chance at playoffs." Sohee groaned indicating that both the game and her team's season were over.

Absent you say, "Their playoff hopes were dashed ages ago and until they do something about their offensive play then they will continue to fall behind the pack."

Sohee turns to you surprised, "How do you know this she challenged

"Well, defensively they are great 12 strikeouts to 8 is insane, they also had a similar number of at-bats, hits, and batting averages. the disparity comes in runs batted in and bases on ball which contributed to an early lead for the Giants that was just too much to overcome. You explained without looking up from your switch.

"but other games have been closer!" Sohee asserted confidently.

at this point, you look up from your switch to smile at your lovely girlfriend and say, "Baby I love you but your team finished 9 out of 10 in the rankings this year. I know you say it's not a "numbers" game and there is more to it than stats but in this specific case the numbers don't lie." To soften the sting you kiss her cheek.

Sohee smiles and says, "Since when did you become an expert on my team."

"Babe," you groan, "We have watched this entire season. Now I know they are not the same team as last year but at least for this season, they had offensive issues. That much is apparent with how many games ended in one-sided games of 7-2 or 8-0, or..." Sohee seeing your point kisses you before you start running more numbers off. Quiet as it's kept she would always get so turned on when you talked baseball. She was dripping wet when she straddled you as the kiss languished into a full make-out.

"Someone's feeling frisky." you tease.

"I just can't help it. When my boyfriend knows his stuff it makes me all excited." Sohee replies demurely, she would never admit it to you but whenever you started getting super into the stats and numbers her head would begin to spin with arousal and she always had to resist the urge to just drain you then and there. Today though you were both off for the next couple of days so she could fuck you as long as she wanted. She began the horizontal tango by pushing down on the couch as she began to kiss you more fervently.

"Um, babe I hate to kill the mood but can I ask that you give me one second to let go of the switch." You asked as she broke the kiss to breathe.

"hm," Sohee huffed.

"Hey I can't massage your ass the way you like if I don't have both my hands." you tease. Sohee smiled gleefully and let you go. you run to the dock to place your switch before going back to her, and she wastes no time returning to her attack on your body, but you are not merely prey. you counterattack her kisses of your neck and collarbone by massaging her bountiful rump. She mewls in pleasure eager to egg you on. As the two of you kiss her tongue is the first to explore your mouth. She draws you in and refuses to relinquish control as she has her tongue dance along the whole of your mouth. when she breaks the kiss to breathe a trail of saliva links the two of you together still Sohee licks her lips and purrs before unfastening your belt. You groan in pleasure as she fishes out your cock and begins to suck on it. you try not to push her down as her cheeks hollow and she takes you further than ever, but the comfort and warmth of her throat cause you to buck your hips which leads to a further loss of control as you begin to relentlessly fuck her throat. You watch as your girlfriend's eyes roll back as you continue to use her throat to pleasure you. the sounds of gags break the silence of your shared apartment, as she submits to you wholly and completely. You continue to use her throat with reckless abandon

You don't stop until you feel your release and cum down her throat. As you sense, you see Sohee stare at you with a look she has never displayed before. She gets up and smiles at you lustfully. "You like using me like a little fuckdoll?" she says with angered lust.

"You like just using my throat like it's your toy?" she pressures. She begins to corner you and of course, this leads to the bedroom. she pushes you down and begins to suck your cock again. you groan as she takes you down her throat, but this time it's different as she begins to manipulate her throat muscles in a way that's foreign but insane to you.

"Oh God," you scream as Sohee works over your cock. Sohee smiles and eggs you on

"You gonna cum for mommy. Come on cum down Mommy's throat like the good boy you are and I just might let you fuck my pussy." You can't hold out much longer as Sohee continues to relentlessly suck and gorge herself on your rod before you cum again, but she's not done with you yet. she begins to rub your cock to get it hard again

Your overwhelmed body barely can stop the moan of pleasure and discomfort as Sohee takes you inside. She smiles at Sickly while watching you squirm under her.

“Babe please stop,” you beg but Sohee begins to ride you oblivious to your discomfort she chases her high.

“Oh I just love how you fill me up,” she says as she begins her deadly body roll her tight tummy hypnotizes you as she continues grinding on your cock. She continues to chase her release despite your protests. You groan and wince as she pushes you further and further past your

limits, while she loses herself more and more to pleasure. Eventually, you pass out.

When you wake up your head is pounding as you feel something wet and tight on your crotch it's Sohee. She's passed out while you're still inside her. You chuckle and adjust so the two of you can cuddle together. When you get into a comfortable position Sohee nestles closer.

“I may not know baseball but you are my favorite home run,” you say as you fall asleep again

[vampfucker666]

just got 100% ends/cgs/scenes............................. good lord

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here..welcome to eighteen..

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Uh... *checks notes* UH... *flips frantically*...listen my laptop exploded and I lost the original version of this chapter gimme a break. I think it was the oatmeal ch. last off.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

So. Danny is halfway through his squeeze this, please exercises where he has a grippy thing the doctors give him where he tries to squeeze this until they make calm noises again when something bursts through the door.

He’s so distracted that he drops his squeezing machine. 

Everyone immediately gets terse and guarded— the lady who looks out for him the most actually pulls up in front of him? Like, protecting him? With her body?? It’s so far out of left field Danny has to wonder if they’re, like, keeping him for something important down the line instead of just treating him. 

The doctors take shelter behind medical equipment where they can, but whatever the assailant is, it’s too fast for them to put up their defenses. For a second, Danny is instinctually scared— the doctor in the periwinkle scrubs sees him almost every day, changing out his bag and fussing with his lower half under his blankets. The doctor in green makes him do the hand stretches he doesn’t want to do and sit up so that he can do it more often again. 

He’s used to them. He doesn't want that to change, or— Or for them to get hurt. 

The blur darts through the doors and past the doctors and is definitely aimed at Danny, so when the lady catches it (with one hand??) and hauls it up out of reach of Danny’s cot, Danny’s relieved wheeze is genuine and emphatic. Ohgodthatwasscary. 

On the other end of her arm is a teenager. A teenager in a…red…outfit, probably, unless he really likes gray and Danny’s eyes are actually working normally for once. Gray hair. Some kind of face, presumably. 

The teen’s legs keep spinning until he realizes how caught he is. Then he goes completely limp in defeat. 

“Cild Lihting se þridda,” the lady scolds, not unlike how Danny’s heard Vlad scold his cat for throwing paperwork off his desk. “Hwæt eart eow dydest?”

“...Naþing ,” the teenager lies, badly, and it sounds so much like Nothing, mom, wasn’t me, that Danny can’t help but choke out a laugh. 

It makes his chest muscles spasm and his throat sore, sure, but that’s not the point. The lady keeps scolding the teen she’s holding up midair, but the teen lights up at Danny’s choked out wheeze like the sun. Almost literally, actually— the green starts accumulating in Danny’s field of view as his body tries to compensate for whatever’s going on in the atmosphere around him. 

The doctors slowly let down their improvised shields, fetching Danny’s lost grippy tool (ugh) and putting it back in his hand (UGH). Danny gives one, pathetic squeeze of the tool, and then decides to visibly languish, because this sucks, obviously. The fact that no one can sympathize with his struggle isn’t new. Just watch him go limp about it. 

The next time the lady and the teen stop making scolding and scolded noises, Danny looks over; the teenager has been, apparently, wrangled into a hair net and face mask. Okay. So it’s not that Danny is off limits then— or maybe he is, but either way, it’s more about getting people into the right gear than about keeping them away from him. Once the teen’s been sprayed down with something that smells absolutely gross, forcibly gloved, and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground, the teen is back on his feet and hollering as he leaves the lady behind. “Þancie eow!!” 

“Slaw, lytel Lihting!” 

Slow, Danny understands, parsing out the weird words as they reach him. Lytel might as well mean little. This sucks. He can never tell if he’s right when he guesses, and he just gets lucky when people understand him back, or whether people are pretending to understand him more than they actually do. Lighting is a weird nickname for a kid though. 

—And then the teen is a foot away from his face and babbling at top speed, entirely at ease with their proximity and hands moving a mile a minute, and Danny has not been losing enough time for that to be anything other than either magic or a superpower. 

Oh, his brain corrects. The word clicks into place. Lightning. 

It’s probably some kind of magic, Danny’s guessing, because as he’s absolutely flabbergasted that someone is leaning into his face and trying to engage him that talk that isn’t happening, his ghost sense flares with a backwash of OMGHIHELLO!!MIS/SEDYOUMISSED//YOUPLAYING?? that. Uh. Is very…a lot? Very intense??

Very…welcoming?

The lady who minds him but isn’t a doctor sighs, picks the teenager up by the waist (??) and sets him a whole foot back. The teen doesn’t even stop chattering, his aura flaring alongside a story Danny is definitely missing, but not unappreciative of. 

He throws something onto Danny’s bed. Danny drops the grippy tool in order to grab it, to the doctor’s verbal dismay. 

But. 

Like Danny’s model shuttle, which never leaves his side, the thing on his bed is Danny’s. This is Danny’s weird, flimsy, squishy toy.

The teen practically vibrates with pride.

…Okay, then. He’s kind of confused, but like. You know. He’s not against this.

Danny picks the squishy, blue thing in his trembling fingers and shakes it around without any sense of fine motor control, and the thing leaps out of his fingers and lands on the floor pretty much instantaneously.

It makes a weird suction noise. Danny peeks over the bed to find it sitting upright, stuck to the floor.

The teen responds by throwing even more colorful, oddly-shaped toys on the bed.

Danny knows enough about doctors to know that there were probably structured plans on how Danny was supposed to spend his time on specific exercises to target specific muscles and stretch specific parts of his hands, but the teen sits at his bedside and plays with toys Danny doesn’t remember with him, and no one stops them at all.

It’s nice.

For about an hour, until Danny truly tires, it's almost…normal.

[marinersubmariner]

You are hard to find.

I actually have a longer Ben-on-Lah’mu AU picspam that precedes this and has been languishing unfinished for a few years (?!?! ugh.......) because I wasn’t happy with the manips. Maybe if I drag my feet long enough they’ll just bring back Ben Solo and make my desperate photoshopping obsolete!!

The short explanation is that I put Ben in exile on Lah’mu for the aesthetics (I LOVE SPACE ICELAND) so he’s just alive and hanging out and being beautifully melancholy. But for this particular edit I imagined a slightly different backstory (...an imaginary AU of an imaginary AU...........) in that instead of “he didn’t die” this is “TROS still happened as-is and he got resurrected afterward” and this specific moment is Rey finding him and them seeing each other for the first time since Exegol. The vague story in my mind is that maybe she managed to pull him back to the living world but through some transdimensional mishaps he got dumped out somewhere random and Rey had to track him down. And while he was stranded on Lah’mu he had to just chill and become a farmer.

[disregardcanon]

yellowjackets no crash au where the team goes to nationals when jackie and the senior group are in their junior, not their senior year of high school. the deal with shauna and jeff is still happening, and jackie finds out about it AT nationals. 

jackie’s a mess about it and the team doesn’t care beyond her being off her game (come on, it was a dick move but you don’t like jeff! we know you don’t like jeff!) and the team mainly just tries to stay out of it and make her focus on the goddamn soccer match.

she spends all of the time that she’s not spending snooping on shauna keeping an eye on some of the other drama happening around them, including coach scott getting into a fight with coach martinez about leaving next year (which seemed like it involved him... being gay? huh) and a lot of bullying and pressure from the coach on his son “flex” to go out and interact with the girls instead of just holing up in the hotel with javi. (it gets more intense the worse the fights with coach scott get, and jackie has a suspicion it’s related to travis’s reputation of never, ever dating.)

she does poorly in a critical match and ends up losing their chance to go to the finals. they end up with 3rd, but the entire team is super pissed off about it. she gets back to town and stews in frustration and jeff breaks up with her because well, she knows now! why shouldn’t i be with shauna who actually kinda likes me? instead of jackie who keeps saying we need to just make it work.

so here’s jackie: languishing over the summer with no best friend and no boyfriend and much reduced social status and trying to figure out how tf to fix that. so she corners travis and is like “hey be my boyfriend to get your dad off your back” and we get a delightful Jackie and Travis Kinda Being Each Others’ Beards situation while they go into their senior year of high school as jackie tries to convince herself that it’s just about the social status and not a deep fear of being found out about something and also UGH SHAUNA I MISS YOU UUGGGHHHH

[lipglossanon]

thank you for keeping me anonymous <3333333

i bring forth ideas i can’t seem to flesh out past the ~just vibes~ stage that have been in my notes for weeks so if any of these inspire you feel free to use them i just don’t want them to be wasted

real dad leon walking in on you masturbating in the shower

the krauser x leon thing had me thinking of step bro leon making you come downstairs and he lets his friends use you while he watches and instigates or like a more fucked up version of truth or dare but it just involves him and his friends using you

cat hybrid reader being held face down in the bed with leon’s hand in the back of neck to immobilize her like a normals cats scruff does so whenever he wants to get his dick wet he just manhandles her until he can grab the back of her neck and make her do what he wants her to

- 💀

(i had one of real dad leon and lactation kink and him being like “it reminds me of when your mom had you” but i wasn’t sure how weird that would be also shapeshifter/wendigo leon and just fluff,,, i know that’s not like me but imagine like sexual fluff,,, just you two scrolling through pictures for him to replicate/shift in to whether it happens to be tentacle dildos shapeshifter leon with a tentacle dick has been on my mind since november or like a really soft fluffy sheep, i think he would like being petted or brushed- back to the tentacle dick thing,,,,, octodick. i will not elaborate but i think of it like a propeller hat or uno, fun for one or to eight people at a time)

💀 anon, hiya!! 👋

And of course! I would’ve either met in languish in my inbox or deleted it before I ousted you to the masses 😆

And you can bring me any and all ideas!! If I don’t get a chance to use them maybe someone will!!

Ahh real dad walking in is such a good fic idea!!! 👀 and it would be easy to write ✍️ so maybe… 🤔 🤭

AGAJGL mean Leon tricking you into letting him and his friends run a train on you 🫣 I’ve thought about something similar with stepdad Leon but couldn’t really get my thoughts pieced together lmao 🤣

Poor kitty! 😂 I could see that being a dark stepdad Leon thing too; you think you’ve been on your best behavior but Leon is just in a mood so he’s grabbing you up by the scruff and pinning you down so he can fuck his aggression out 🥴 🥴 and honestly now it’s Pavlovian anytime he touches your neck you just get wet 😵‍💫

Ugh 😩 lactation kink!!!! I’ve really been meaning to write another one. They’re so hot 😌

Wendigo Leon and fluff??? 🥹 he would be such a sweetie for real! He likes how it makes you all soft for him so he’ll go the extra mile 🤭 AHSKGBL no but that’s such a good idea!!! He likes to try out different dicks with you just cause it makes you into such a mess 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 and octodick sounds insane ngl 😜

I truly do love seeing you in my inbox 💀 anon!

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

DC crossover anon: OKAY OKAY SO CONSIDER… Kate and Dick Grayson. The PARALLELS. Dick knows what it’s like to just be a normal guy on a team full of powered people, to feel like you need to earn your seat at the table. Dick fought for respect as Robin, as Nightwing… Kate did it as Hawkeye. She went toe to toe with Steve for this right. Dick struck out in a new town like Kate did in taking off for the west coast. They understand the hero worship, only to be struck with how human your mentor really is. And listen, if Kate had a nickel for every time she wound up running with a former circus performer who pretends to be a himbo but is actually really fuckin smart…? Well, she’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.

A/N: I am so sorry this has been languishing in my drafts for months and even though i have more thoughts i want to post it because hi i am IN LOVE with them ilu dc nonny

Oh my godddd ohhhhhmy goddddddddddd

I am seeing them getting ready for (superhero) work and realizing they picked up the wrong batons which is so DUMB and so CUTE or maybe they even got as far as superheroing and Kate is like HUH well THAT wasn't supposed to happen as she's standing over some twitching goon and calling Dick like "Hey babe I think we need to label the batons better just a thought" and Dick who is FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE because Kate doesn't have tasers is like YA THINK???? (I am so sorry for yelling babe I wasn't mad at you I was mad at the situation and also the literal clown I was fighting)

Do they meet at a rich person gala and Kate is trying to figure out if Bruce is Tony Stark rich dude or Justin Hammer rich dude and realizes what better way to infiltrate this sus billionaire than by getting tight with his kids? They both absolutely know how to ballroom dance. Do they meet because Kate decides to take some aerial classes??? DUO ACRO ROUTINE MY BELOVED?!?!?! (OH my goddddddd Dick teaching circus classes? Kate and Clint taking circus classes and he critiques Dick the whole time but they bond over how the Joker is a bad clown. Not like evil, but like, bad at being a clown. The fucking audacity of him.)

Universe mash up where the Avengers et al and the Justice League et al come together for some reason and Nightwing and Hawkeye are impressed with one another in a professional way and then Bruce(Wayne) and Steve(Rogers) decide to set them up by sending them on fake missions together only because Kate is Kate it keeps backfiring and the fake missions all become real missions. It's OK though because they all come together to defeat an interdimensional villain and then there's a frantic makeout session

Kate and Dick would be able to pull off one of my favorite tropes "we've been dating for 3 1/2 years but everyone thinks we just team up to fight crime." Everyone thinks the teamups are because their teamup name is NightHawk. Obvi. Whatever version of them getting together, a total of three people know. One of them is Damian who Does Not Care Thank You Very Much (he does. He cares SO MUCH. when is the wedding he wants to know he had BETTER be a GROOMSMAN, RICHARD. He's already training Lucky to be the ringbearer. But he super mega doesn't care he thinks they're idiots.)

UGH SECRET IDENTITY SHENANIGANS (assuming a crossover where Kate can maintain a secret identity for more than 30 seconds) does the general public think that Dick is dating Hawkeye? That Kate is dating Nightwing? DO THE BUTTS MATCH????

How long before she gives up and starts calling him Dick? She absolutely can't at first, stop LAUGHING, Tommy, and at first the Batfam thinks she's kind of posh and weird like Damian because she's calling him "Richard" does he even actually want to be called Dick she doesn't know!

How into it is Dick when they go to some super shitty bar in Bludhaven and she kicks his ass at pool? He is so super into it its not even funny, honestly any time Kate kicks his ass he is VERY into it.

Kate is out here a small business owner where she is LITERALLY a detective and then at night saving the world? Dick why does that weirdly sound like Bruce? Dick? Do you call Kate daddy Dick WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY ITS A SERIOUS QUESTION

Also I was looking at this on my phone and my eye caught the phrase "struck out" and I am obSESSed with Dick striking out with Kate (trying to date her to get intel on her dad?) while Jason actually gets her to agree to dinner and obviously Jason will never let Dick forget this ever. After dinner--during dinner?--something happens and that's when they realize that Hawkeye (who has been flirting with Nightwing and they're sort of crime fighting dating) just went on a date with Red Hood (they shoot at each other once a week) and that Kate TURNED DOWN the guy she has actually sort of BEEN DATING FOR TWO MONTHS???

Tim texts the entire Batfam about this. Babs steals Kate's phone and texts her entire team. It's terribly embarrassing for Dick and Kate but really brings their teams together.

DICK ADVISING KATE ON GETTING A SIDEKICK?!?!? Damian trying to convince kid!Loki to be Kate's sidekick? DAMIAN AND KATE TEAMUP WHEN DICK IS SICK!?!?! And just. The amount the Batfam would adore Kate. Because she's Kate, because of how happy Dick is when he's with her, because she shares interests with like all of them, Kate and Damian SWORDFIGHTING

I can't decide if Dick's acrobatic training is the only reason he can beat Kate in a fight, or if it's the only reason Kate can beat Dick in a fight (I think they're pretty evenly matched.) On the one hand, Dick's use of acrobatics in his fighting style is pretty unusual and even trained fighters are going to be unprepared for some of his moves. On the other hand, I can see Clint either showing Kate some tricksy moves from his circus days, or Kate just picking it up by observing him. Idk it would be very funny because the acrobatics thing is unique, it gives Dick's moves an edge and he's honestly not used to losing fights and then Kate just. Fucking clotheslines him.

Now that I think about it,

Okay. okay. For Kate, fighting Dick is a lot like fighting Clint. They're built similar and have the acrobatics background. Kate is used to fighting people like Dick. Dick is less used to fighting people like Kate. You remember that picture of an eagle sitting next to a housecat, where it was captioned "I eat things like you, but not your size/I eat things your size but not like you"? That's them.

They also do yoga together after a long night of fighting crime. Also Kate is so protective of Dick it's kind of funny, Dick is ABSOLUTELY capable of taking care of himself but he is SO OKAY with Kate taking care of him, of her being a little feral about him in public, he wants the title of Boytoy. Tim says that Dick is Kate's poor little meow meow and look. points were made. Dick is just SO GOOPY about her in private but if you so much as look at Hawkeye in that tone of voice Nightwing will wreck your shit.

[writcraft]

For the Wip title game:

Gosh, so many intriguing titles. Anything Little Compton Street sounds exciting, as does vampire Snarry.

That said, I think I am most curious about If She Ever Leaves. The fact that it looks to be characterised as just Hermione rather than a ship stands out to me. Also, I would love to read more stories focusing on some of the female characters - variety is the spice of life.

Thank you so much for the ask! I have mislead you with If She Ever Leaves WIP title, because it is a ship fic (Hermione/Ginny) but Hermione's POV is very immersive / introspective in this fic in a way that makes me think of it as hers.

This is a story I have actually posted snippets of over a couple of years now, and I desperately want to write it but it's heavy. Ron and Hermione are together at the start and trying desperately to make it work even when it doesn't. It hurts to write this fic because it take me back to the awful pain of breaking up with someone you love, just not like that. If I'm experiencing that funk writing the damn thing, it makes me think it might be miserable as hell to read. I also have no clear sense of the end, how does Hermione/Ginny turn out okay with that set up? And I love a happy or hopeful ending. Ugh.

I actually love so many things about this story. It is (I think) written well, it is human, it hurts, but it also hurts me to write it which is why it has languished in my WIPs for so long. I need a bit of a plan to unblock this one so I can actually finish it and hopefully not make anyone who reads it feel horrible. Suggestions always welcome!

ask me about my WIPs

[erabundus]

❝  ...  you  wouldn't  know  it's such  an  ISSUE from the outside looking in,  but  people actually  get  topographic  and  topological  confused  more  often  than  you  think.  ❞

❝ i see.  ❞

❝  you  get  it!  you're  sooo  smart,  ren  —  of  course  you  do!  but  this  government  lady  who  hired  us  had  no  idea  what  she  was  talking  about.  there  was  this  one  time ...  ❞

the  streamer  drowns  out  the  rest  of  his  words  until  they  become  little  more  than  an  indistinct  blur.  (  white  noise,  humming  along  in  the  background.  )  he  traces  the  edge  of  his  glass  with  one  painted  nail.  the  drink  inside  is  a  dark  shade  of  red  like  pooled  blood  —  it  tastes  like  SOUR  CHERRIES  and  makes  his  mouth  go  a  bit  numb.  not  bad,  but  not  nearly  enough  to  give  him  the  buzz  he's  looking  for,  even  after  two  of  them.  it's  been  ages  since  ren  last  went  to  THE ABYSS;  long  enough  that  the  cocktail menu  is  entirely  different.  he  wishes  he  could  remember  what  his  usual  order  was  called,  but  he's  fairly  certain  the  name  has  been  changed  to  something  unrecognizably  pretentious ... assuming it hasn't been scrapped entirely.

ren  raises  the  glass  to  his  lips  and  takes  a  shallow  sip.  this  was  a  bad  idea;  he  wants  to  go  HOME.

it's  a  bit  funny  how  difficult  that  word  is  to  define  these  days.  is  home  niwa's  house  —  and  the  guest  room  he's  so  selfishly  set  his  roots  in?  is  home  the  apartment,  hollow  and  lonely  like  the  tomb  he  spent  his  childhood  languishing  about?  if  home  is  some  fantastical  thing  that  could  be  found  within  ANOTHER  PERSON,  he  thinks  he's  probably  been  evicted.  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  —  and  that  house  turned  out  to  be  a  great  deal  colder  than  its  inviting  exterior  made  it  out  to  be.  the  ceiling  leaked  when  it  rained  and  the  hot  water  ran  out  too  quickly,  but  it's  hard  to  say  whether  it's  worse  than  being  stuck  out  on  the  streets.  (  alone  and  shivering.  )  perhaps  he  was  simply  so  enamored  with  the  idea  of  having  a  roof  over  his  head  that  he  was  willing  to  take  ANYTHING.  he  isn't  sure.  he  isn't  going  to  try  to  pretend  he's  been  close  to  perfect  —  but  he  doesn't  think  the  lion's  share  of  the  blame  rests  on  his  shoulders ...  for  once.

it's  around  that  time  the  streamer  realizes  the  background  chatter  has  come  to  an  abrupt  stop.  cartographer  guy  (  because  he  still  REFUSES  to  learn  his  name  )  is  looking  at  him  expectantly,  and  ren  slowly lowers  his  glass  in  response.  ❝  um.  what?  ❞

❝  oh!  i'm  sorry,  did  you  not  hear  me?  ❞  ugh.  why  is  he  so  fucking  nice.  it's  nauseating.   ❝  so  far,  i've  been  the one doing  all  the  chatting ...  but  i  invited  you  out  to  catch  up!  ❞   he  flashes  an  awkward  little  smile  that  the streamer  does  not  reciprocate.  ❝  how  have  you  been?  ❞

... oh.  perfect.  talking  about  himself.  as  if  this  entire  conversation  wasn't  miserable  enough  already.   ❝  great.  ❞  he  replies  tersely.  ❝  just  great. doing fine.  ❞

❝  yikes ...  that  badly,  huh?  ❞  the  glare  ren  shoots  his  way  has  him  holding  up  both  hands  in  faux-surrender.  ❝  sorry,  sorry!  geez,  if  looks  could  kill ...  ❞   words  trail  off  with  a  faint  laugh.   ❝  um ...  listen,  i  know  we  barely  know  each  other,  but  even  i  could  tell  there  was  something  STRANGE  about  how  quickly  you  agreed  to  this.  don't  get  me  wrong  —  i'm  thrilled  to  be  here!  ❞  the  streamer  arches  a  skeptical  brow.  ❝  really.  and  i'm also  sorry  if  i'm  crossing  a  line  by  saying  this,  but  —  !  ❞

❝ you are.  ❞

❝  but!  ❞  he  raises  a  finger.  ❝  it  seems  to  me  like  maybe  you're  just  looking  for  a  DISTRACTION.  ❞   and  something  about  the  look  on  ren's  (  traitorously  expressive  )  face  must  CONFIRM  that  theory,  because  it  gives  the  cartographer  the  confidence  to  continue.  ❝  if  something  is  bothering  you,  i'm  willing  to  shut  up  and  listen.  i've  heard  it  can  be  pretty  cathartic  —  you  know,  venting?  ❞

venting.  the  streamer's  gaze  flicks  down  to  his  drink.  he  tilts  it  to  and  fro,  watching  the  single  cherry  swimming  around  its  crimson  contents  sway  from  the  movement.   ❝  you  really  don't  want  to.  ❞  he  says  flatly.  ❝  i'm  a little above  your  pay  grade.  ❞

❝  aw,  c'mon!  i  might  surprise  you!  ❞  a  disbelieving  sigh.  ❝  okay,  well.  how  often  do  we  actually  meet  face  to  face  like  this?  or  talk  —  at  all?  ❞   that  much  is  at  least  enough  to  have  ren  look  back  up  again.  ❝  see?  this  is  basically  as  close  as  completely  anonymous  as  you're  going  to  get.  nooo  strings  attached.  ❞   he  wiggles  his  fingers  as  if  to  EMPHASIZE  the  absence  of  these  imaginary  strings. ❝ i can't promise i'll be able to dispense some sagely advice in return, but it has to be better than keeping everything BOTTLED UP inside! right? ... no pun intended.  ❞ 

he  swallows  back  the  compulsion  to  ask  what  the  aforementioned  pun  actually  is.  ❝  if  you  tell  anyone,  i'll  kill  you.  ❞

❝ sure!  ❞ ... disgustingly chipper.

❝  ...  ❞  ren  stares  into  his  drink  for  a  moment,  expression  wrought  with  indecision.  he's  reluctant  to  open  up  to  anyone  —  even  the  few  he  finds  himself  feeling  particularly  CLOSE  with.  much  less  a  stranger  with  an  apparent  propensity  for  meddling  in  matters  far  beyond  what  he  has  any  right  to.  nosy  bastard,  the  streamer  thinks,  brow  furrowing  in  wordless  disdain.  at  the  same  time,  he  would  have  SHOT  DOWN  the  offer  long  ago  if  it  wasn't  tempting.  at  least,  tempting  enough  to  warrant  serious  consideration.  his  thoughts  are  a  tangled  mess  and  his  emotions  ugly  and  obscure  enough  to  confuse  even  ren  himself.  he  doesn't  want  to  subject  anyone  in  their  ragtag  social  circle  to  what  poison  steeps  in  the  depths  of  his  consciousness.  frankly,  if  the streamer  could  exit  his  own  head  as  easily  as  he  could  a  car,  he knows he  would  do  so  in  an  INSTANT.  ❝  ... fine.  ❞  fine.  against  his  better  judgement.  he  downs  the  rest  of  his  drink  in  one  go  to  the  sound  of  an  impressed  hum.

❝ ... but buy me something STRONGER than this — i'm going to need it.  ❞

[palbabor-writes]

so i’ve had a draft languishing in my WIPs for a bit.

it’s a getō x reader & it’ll be pre-gojo’s past arc by a few months but will link up with that by the end. no spoilers in this bit tho!

anyhow. here’s a snippet. lemme know what you think 🧐

She’s prickly, unsociable & so brittle it sets his teeth on edge.

A small clan. One of the lesser. Always scrabbling for an edge. Lagging behind those with the bloodlines. Those who like to pretend that the echoes of long faded ichor matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s been years since the Zen’in clan has produced the ten shadows. What will prayers and haughtiness do about it now?

Don’t talk to her about it, Satoru warns. Better to not stoke a fire that isn’t contained. But Satoru has a high-mindedness that’s all his own.

After all, that’s his birthright. And the first in four hundred years to have both. A paragon at seventeen. Of course she’d slip his notice.

She’s a year younger, Shoko reminds him. Part of another three man team. Not any of his business. Why bother? It’s all so very Shoko. Lazy. Practical. Prescribed. She’ll make a fine doctor. If she can be bothered to put in the time.

Despite these warnings from his team mates, he can’t help but look for her name on the rosters. Both familiar and unfamiliar, checking and double checking until he spies her surname. She’s lagging behind. Crushed under the numbers of her peers.

Shit.

But it’s not his concern, he reminds himself. Who cares?

When he knocks on Yaga’s door he has another question in mind. Something eloquent; prepped and well thought out. But the one he blurts out is: why will no one recommend her?

Yaga fixes him with a hard look. Some have tried. Teachers mostly. But most decide it’s not worth the fight. He doesn’t elaborate. And Getō’s original query is so distant now he can’t even grasp at a tendril of an excuse.

I’m a first grade. Let me put her up in the next panel.

You don’t even know her. Yaga intones; sharp eyes boring into Getōs. Besides, you have two missions coming up this month. Not to mention your own panel. Graduation is next year.

I don’t care.

He does though. So much it makes his toes curl and his mind wander. Yaga tells him to get out with a snort of derision and Getō can practically feel his teacher’s eyes rolling as he slides the door closed behind him.

You ever even talk to her? Gojo laughs, popping another mochi into his mouth.

Once or twice.

She’s the rank she is because she can’t hack the system. You know that, right?

Sure, getō echoes, spying you on the training field. But it’s our job to uphold and support our fellow sorcerers.

Ugh, not this bullshit again

If you don’t want to hear it, don’t ask. Getō quips, a glimmer of a smile on his lips

The day after the panel recommendations are announced he loiters by your classroom. He doesn’t mean to be so obvious. He should be waiting for Shoko in the infirmary. He told her he would. But for some reason, this just feels like the right thing to do.

Your eyes snap to his when you step into the hallway, your boots shining with a fresh polish, fingers knotted into tight fists at your side

Did you really put my name up for 1st grade?

Uh, yeah. Getō at least has the grace to scratch at the back of his head, nails sharp against the obsidian strands. This is not going to plan.

Why?

Because I wanted to.

You don’t even know me.

Why does everyone say that, he thinks, nose wrinkling in distaste. Even if it is partially true.

That’s not true, he lies. We’ve gone to jujutsu tech for two years together. Even fought in this years group during the school tournament. And I remember you from martial arts training. That was almost three years ago now.

You’re silent after his litany of reasons and he pads one step, two steps closer.

You aren’t a grade 4. He says, hoping to imbue some conviction into his vocalization. Haven’t been for at least a year. Even then you really came in at grade 2, what with your control over cursed—

And you, in your infinite wisdom, felt I’d just languish in obscurity until you came along and fixed it?

I- what?

I told them no.

Told them? Wait. Do you mean the council? Shit. This isn’t going to plan.

Yeah. Told them there’d be a mix up. You must have put my name on accident. Or as a joke.

He’s getting annoyed; shoulders bunching closer to his ears, upper lip curling until his sharp canine is gleaming in the late afternoon glow of the overhead lights. It wasn’t an accident. And I certainly didn’t do it as some sort of joke. Has Satoru been talking to you? Did he tell you—

Look, you sigh, pink tongue slicking over your bottom lip, leaving a glimmering sheen behind. Getō’s nostrils flare at that and he rocks forward, toes stretching for the tip of his boots. As if that’ll let him soak up more of you. As if it’ll dampen the simmering anger from your eyes.

I don’t need your help.

🧍‍♀️

[extremelyputridfishbreath]

kafka wants him. rolly fears him

Chauncey liked helping people.

Gosh, it was even the reason he wanted to join the EPF in the first place! …Well, more like one of multiple reasons, but still a major factor nonetheless.

It felt good, seeing a penguin’s face light up when he carefully brought down their cat puffle from a tree, or helped move a log that crashed right into their koi pond after a bad snowstorm– even more ‘unimportant’ deeds like simply flagging down a penguin who dropped a coin made him feel warm and fuzzy. 

That was why no matter how bad the temptation he felt was, he had to keep himself from licking the folders G instructed him to sort in the EPF’s archive room.

Sure, the fish oil these important documents were generously doused in was meant as a deterrent to his uncle Herbert…but Chauncey was a carnivore through and through– which made it terribly hard to not want just a taste.

“I’ll just get a pizza after this.” Chauncey muttered to himself as he entered the archive room, briefly fumbled with turning the lights on thanks to his costume’s flippers, and carefully sat the stack of folders down onto a nearby table. “Maybe I should see if Blanche is free when I’m done…”

He knew he wanted to get to know the Frost Bite more– not only because of her friendship with his dear cousin Richter, but because he’d never known one before he met her. It was always nice to learn more about other cultures, and he was sure that Blanche probably had interesting stories about her home to tell– or at least a few good knock knock jokes.

For a moment, just a brief moment there was the sound of paper moving, but when he looked back at the folders he was happy to see they didn’t fall off of the table.

Shrugging it off, he pawed through the first folder’s contents to see it was an assortment of G’s blueprints, and given that the vast majority of them didn’t go higher than 1000, it seemed these were mostly duds.

I guess a pistachio shell cracker is a pretty niche invention… Chauncey shut the folder and headed over to the proper file cabinet. But gee, it would sure be convenient for me!

Maybe he could convince G to accept money to build one? Sure, his invention work was largely done pro-bono with the occasional need for fundraising, but something as wonderful as this couldn’t possibly languish in development heck forever, right?

“Shoot.” Chauncey pouted at the sight of the file cabinet being too full. “I guess I’ll um, put this in the bottom shelf–”

Chauncey’s neck fur stood on end as he felt someone’s gaze on him.

Ugh, really? Chauncey sulked, looking at the security camera in the corner of the wall, its red light blinking to indicate that it was recording the room. Geez, I thought I’d be used to the cameras by now…

Oh well, it was just a minor inconvenience– and not one worth dwelling on at that. Carefully pulling out the bottom cabinet, he placed the folder inside nice and snug before blowing a kiss at it. He hoped if Mukluk was on camera duty, they didn’t see him do that– the last thing he needed was for them to tease him for having the audacity to put a little extra love into his job.

Like sure, it was silly. But that was the point, wasn’t it? If you take your job too seriously and don’t spice things up, you end up like Richter– well, that wasn’t the best way to put it, or the nicest… Sure, Richter could be a little obtuse, and yes it was boring to talk about work with it sometimes, but it had a great worth ethic and personality, and that absolutely shouldn’t be treated as a thing to scorn—

“aw man, this tastes so sucks. if i knew it was gonna be THAT bad i woulda just licked something else.”

It was a familiar voice, mild disappointment and all– and it’s owner sure wasn’t supposed to be in the room with him, and especially not touching important documents.

Spinning around, Chauncey caught a glimpse of Scrabble hurriedly flicking the lights off.

“Scrabble–” Chauncey sputtered, trying to find his words. “I– did you just come here to lick the folders because they smelled like fish? I mean, I can’t blame you but…”

Flick. The lights were back on, and rather than a small black crayon drawing of a penguin standing in the room with him, Rolly stood in his place.

“Where’s Scrabble?” Chauncey looked around, and even behind him just in case. “I– I didn’t hear you waddle in, but I guess secret agents are supposed to be stealthy…but then again I dunno if Scrabble would really have loud footprints. Um– what I’m getting at is have you uh, seen him when you came in?”

“nah man.” Rolly smiled widely. Maybe a little too widely? “i think i’d notice if i saw a sexy beast like him though.”

“Well, ah…Rolly.” Chauncey gawked at his flippers, one of which clearly had five fingers. “What…detailed and anatomically accurate hands you have?”

“freakin’ shizz…” Rolly looked at the problem appendage and narrowed his eyes in frustration. Come to think of it, weren’t his eyes usually a crimson red and a faded pink instead of an obsidian black too? “how many fingers am i supposed to have?”

“Um…none, ideally? According to Richter anyway, I don’t see the big deal about penguins with hands–”

The fingers were gone.

“Normal one.” Chauncey exhaled under his breath. “This– I’m having a pretty swell normal one…”

“Not to be rude,” Chauncey nervously placed a paw on his neck. “But…your eyes aren’t really the right color either.”

“man, forget this.” Rolly stuck his tongue out, before he…became Dot. “surprise it was me pot all along!”

Chauncey bit his lip, sharply exhaling from both the pain of it and the effort it took not to laugh.

“Well…” Chauncey steeled his resolve. “I– you know, Dot.” He gently corrected, sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs, patting the spot next to him. “If um, if Scrabble was here, you know what I’d want? I’d want to talk to him as himself, and um, not as my coworkers. I think it’d be nice.”

Dot looked thoughtful for a moment, raising a brow at Chauncey.

“dunno…if i was scrabble i’d be thinking this is like, super sus bro.” She said, taking a step forward despite her hesitance. “how do would he like, know you’re not a liar liar plant for hire? it could be a trap.”

“Well…” Chauncey looked over at the security camera. “You’re– I mean he would already be on the camera anyways, so what’s the harm in a little chat? Besides, it’s just me doing my mediator stuff with him, and you– Scrabble didn’t really do anything to get in trouble besides…lick stuff, as far as I can tell at least– so he’d get off easy anyways.”

That answer seemed to placate the drawing as he sat next to Chauncey in his true form.

Most of the others saw Scrabble’s ability as intimidating– understandably so, Chauncey supposed. Though Scrabble had yet to run around as him yet for whatever reason, he knew he wouldn’t be any more comfortable with it than Rolly or the other penguins he liked to copy, let alone the penguins he pretended to be in order to sabotage their sports team and give Gin a easier win…

But there was something so beautiful about shapeshifting, or metamorphosis, or whatever you wanted to call it. The problem wasn’t that Scrabble was a shapeshifter, so much as his tendency to use his shapeshifting to cause problems for others. But surely it could be used to help others, right? Or at least, help in an acceptable way, rather than to cheat in competitions.

“You know…” Chauncey looked down at the drawing, who mimicked his curious look. ”What did you use your shapeshifting for before you came here? If um, you don’t mind me prying.”

“let’s talk about something else.” Scrabble frowned. “‘s not like it was that different from what i do here…mostly.”

Right– so that topic was off the table, and he’d make a note of that.

“Well…hm.” Chauncey scratched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this isn’t a question, it’s more of a statement really. But I think it’s pretty neat that you’re a shapeshifter.”

“...what?” Scrabble’s eyes widened.

“Um, yeah?” Chauncey nodded. “Look, I don’t like to lie. I think honesty is the best policy, and I’m 100% serious when I say I think it’s cool that you’re a shapeshifter.”

Chauncey had seen Scrabble smile before. How couldn’t he, when he’d seen how happy he was to work alongside Gin? And yet…

There was something about it. There was something…charming? Sweet? Striking? He couldn’t settle on a word, but the way Scrabble’s eyes were squinted in contentment, and the way his smile was wide and genuine…it made him want to see him smile more. 

“‘s about time somebody has good taste here.” There was a trace of smugness in his voice. “i’m just that awesome.”

“Have you ever um, considered using your abilities to help others?” Chauncey carefully asked. “Not– not that you don’t already, it’s sweet that you help Gin. Even for villains, loyalty to your friends is a good trait to have! I just mean well…do you help anyone out besides her?”

“nah.” He stuck his purple tongue out. “that’s boring. i came here to have some laffs, not replace car warranties or whatever penguins do.”

“I guess.” Chauncey slowly said, looking up at the ceiling. The fan wasn’t on, and given Scrabble’s tendency to be blown away by so much as a stiff breeze, that was likely for the best. “But it’s like that guy from the superhero movie said– with great power comes a great responsibility; it might be fun to be a villain, yeah. But is it really…fulfilling for you, or for Gin even, or anyone?”

“well if i didn’t like villainy i coulda stopped five or six stores ago. mleh.” Scrabble stuck his tongue out again, his tone taking an indignant edge. “just cuz you gave up on villainy doesn’t mean it’s not for me, man.”

If Mukluk were here, they would smugly adjust their glasses and lecture Scrabble on the concept of “sunk cost fallacies” and that even doing things you genuinely enjoyed could fall under that if you weren’t careful. If Richter were here, he likely would have escorted Scrabble out the moment he saw him.

But Chauncey was neither his sibling, nor his cousin.

“I just think you deserve better than that. Better than villainy, better than you and Gin pigeonholing yourselves into something that might not even make you happy in the end.” Chauncey replied, fidgeting in his spot. “Don’t we all?”

Chauncey expected Scrabble to take offense to what he just said. He expected that if he didn’t, he’d instead brush it off entirely or change the subject.

He didn’t expect Scrabble to look conflicted.

“wuh…?” Scrabble mumbled, uncharacteristically quiet. “i …do?”

Chauncey thought of his uncle. He thought about how he never seemed to be happy in his childhood memories of him, and how letting his anger, his refusal to ask for help until it was the only option he had left, how his failures were only kindling for the blazing fire that harmed anyone who got near, and could be just as destructive as a forest fire…a forest fire that would even hurt the arsonist who started it as an act of revenge because he just couldn’t allow himself to throw in the towel. Herbert wouldn’t let himself do that, not for his children, not for his nephews, and certainly not for the penguins he harmed just because they wanted to have fun in their home, or for having the bravery to protect what was theirs from his selfish clutches.

“...Yes, Scrabble.” Chauncey swallowed hard. “I think you do.”

[elexuscal]

📬🔪🌾

📬 The best comment you ever received?

Ohhhhhhh no. this is like being asked to choose between my babies. why do you do this to me ;_; Okay so first off. I have received MANY MANY lovely comments. short ones, long ones, key smashes, mini essays. i love and treasure them all I do really wan to shout out to a guest user who, if my memory serves, went by the handle Kitten. They always left the SWEETEST line-by-line analysis of some of my long running Steven Universe fics and talked about reading them with their mum and it made my heart melt and i love you so much thank you

🔪 The fic/chapter that hurt the most to write?

hmmn hmmn. hurt in what sense?

writing angst-- even the most intense, painful, torture and death type? does nothing. i am not just immune. i become another person. i laugh. cackle. MUAHAHAHA. all shall suffer and i will watch the world burn

what hurts the most for me is when I have an Idea and it just won't come together. if it's a one shot, fine. that piece will probably just languish in a text file forever, incomplete. i'll feel sad but not guilty. it's when i have a Pivotal chapter in a long fic that won't resolve it drives me insane. there was one SU fic chapter involve Steven's birthday that i could just NEVER get to work and had to get changed entirely. right now, in my roleswap, Perihelion is being a real asshole about doing what i need it to do. ugh. my bane.

🌾 A fic you really want to write but you haven’t (yet)?

A fic? Singular? ahahahahahhahaha-- [breaks down into quiet sobs]

I have so many fics I'd like to write, if only I had the time or spoons.

For now, I'll choose two to feature: 1. A murderbot/ART body swap that i have the first chapter of written and which i'd love to really flesh out. have them explore each other's functions. MB has an outlet with coming to terms with its more caring side. ART finds the pros and cons of having the type of body that can interact directly with its crew. many Emotions are had. 2. What would be quite an ambitious Avatar; The Last Airbender fanfic about how how a pockets of airbenders survived their genocide, and the ways those diaspora managed to hide, whether retreating from the ever growing front lines, blending in among locals, etc, etc.

[odekirk]

I'm sorry for being responsible for almost all the Howard asks lately. I'm still just sad for his canon fate (and its aftermath) and I just want him to be okay and give him a nice, long hug. And now I'm thinking about Howard gaining insight about his relationship to his dad through his therapy sessions.

no please the only reason i've been letting them languish in my inbox is because they cause me so much psychic damage. i lubve howard asks and i lubve howard

and UGH he had to have started by just talking about chuck and his sadness/grief/guilt over his death, then probably got into the more complicated aspects of their relationship in life, which led them into talking about george...

it's weird because obviously at one point (circa the bathroom scene) howard was really digging deep in therapy and probably dredging up a LOT of issues that he had been ignoring for a long time, but by season 6 when we actually see him with his therapist he seems to be good old buttoned-up howard. i wonder if after he had worked through some of his chuck stuff he was kinda like "i feel so much better, i'm cured, everything is fine now" and kind of... went back to repressing stuff and not wanting to talk about it. and maybe cheryl being the type who "won't talk about anything important" reinforced that and that's why he is so stiff with his therapist in that scene. and his therapist is noticing that and is worried about it and that's why he doesn't even want to allow howard to talk about HHM for even a moment. :(