Spades Slick & Diamonds Droog

You ship ssdd? So do I, so here's a bunch of it! (Characters from the homestuck intermission) NSFW sometimes.

[umbralundertaker]

that part where Draconian Dignitary calls Jack Noir 'slick' and thinks itd be a funny name to annoy him with, and in the trolls' session Jack Noir goes by Spades Slick... 😊

[okunewww]

Slickdroog slop

[trail-to-the-artpocalypse]

sloog

[jackdignitary]

[okunewww]

I hate them they need to die

[jackdignitary]

[okunewww]

they're just stupid

[smuppetier]

look at these dang old men they’re babygirl fr

[themidnightcruise]

no homo (they're furiously gay)

[jackdignitary]

[slickdroog]

sooo much props to you for keeping this blog running for all these years!!

Ah!! Thank you! I love these boys to the moon and back, so I can’t help but pop in and look for more art and fiction of them once in a while!

[hippoinspector]

lean

[arts-boxcars]

request for an ssdd of some variety pretty please :3

i hope this counts oops

[themonsterghost]

pride requests from my stream ☺️ happy pride month!

[ontdah]

They have been married for like, 300 years.

[zzoupz]

yippee..

[smuppetier]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

hey SlickDroog shippers come get y’all juice!

I wrote a fic for my otp and figured I’d share it here for my fellow degenerates <3 muah

Summary: You are the right hand man of the Midnight Crew, which really means you are Spades Slick’s babysitter. You don’t actually mind keeping him in line. His temper is vicious but so is your own, and you know how to keep his head on straight when it counts. You just wish being his right hand man actually meant something to Slick. You’re the closest to him, always have been, but it seems you’re just another employee with a fancy title. You doubt he’d consider you an associate, forget about friends.

Your brow furrows, putting the first dent in your calm facade. He never did appreciate you, or if he did he never bothered to show it. After all he may have built this city but it’s you who’s held it together. You grip the cigarette in your lips and leave it there, freeing your hands. You take Slick’s disheveled shirt collar in your fists and yank his face up close to yours, only bending slightly down to meet him as the toes of his leather dress shoes brush the floor. “If you don’t need me,” your eyes narrow, “then get rid of me.”