#//like yeah stick it to the man but only if “the man” isnt him or his superiors

[adamsappl]

honesty seems to be something that's very important to adam -- say what you will about him, but he isn't a liar. keeping the exterminations quiet is as close to a lie as he gets ( but i would say it isn't technically a lie of omission, as that would require someone questioning the goings-on in hell and adam not bringing it up in his answer ) and he actively seems to hold a lot of disdain towards liars ;; particularly towards vaggie.

when he confronts her in episode 6, she lies about not knowing what he's talking about -- and it makes him drop the fun, overly-obnoxious act he puts on to question if she REALLY thinks he wouldn't recognize her, asked as if she thought he was that dumb. and again, one of his last lines in you didn't know ;; "did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar? " he was already pretty angry by this point, but while it's definitely condescending, the delivery of this line makes adam sound almost angry FOR charlie, and i feel like how sure adam was that exposing vaggie would damage her and charlie's relationship beyond repair only emphasizes that. i mean, one of his first formative experiences was being cheated on. it only follows that being lied to, ESPECIALLY about something so important, would be a dealbreaker in adam's mind.

but i find it especially interesting that "don't lie" isn't on adam's list of what he believes gets someone into heaven. and this isn't about lying specifically, but i also think it's interesting that "don't kill" isn't on that list, either. he's a massive hypocrite in other aspects, but murder is something he has nuanced feelings about. killing another person is a situational case, but not theft. it's so interesting.

[hauntingblue]

Skypiea time part 2

She is a woman..... this is sanji's influence... in whiskey peak his slashes were non gendered

Ace just letting himself get pushed into the river like aight my bad I will take my punishment.... he really is so well mannered (it sounds like I'm talking about a dog)

Conis showing that nami influence.... gfs....

Nami and luffy twins moment look how relieved she is... this whole fight is so theirs...

Also how funny it is that the milk girl gave ace a shirt.... also new pants??? She must think he lost the shirt in the river.... no girl he is just a slut...

Nami: okay ❤️ yay ❤️

Noland just thinking about where karugara is and if he is alright in his EXECUTION!! SICK AND TWISTED

OMG BOUNDMAN INSPO????

NO ACEEE NOOOOOOOO

THE END OF ACES STORY IS THAT THE COFFE IS NO LONGER BITTER BC THEY SERVE IT WITH MILK AND WHY AM I EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT

[moonstruckme]

hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!

cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense. 

Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes. 

A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically. 

“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him. 

“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?” 

“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him. 

And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt. 

You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.” 

Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again. 

“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?” 

“Until August.” 

Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again. 

“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!” 

You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders. 

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?” 

“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.” 

“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.” 

You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.” 

Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.” 

“We can go back to your place,” you offer. 

“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.” 

[o-sunny-day]

Oh right. The other one.

CW: Undertale rant/analysis

Ive played Undertale- hundreds of times. and lately ive reflected on how the game is supposed to make you feel IN THE MOMENT- since ive kinda forgotten a lot of that. Because of the aforementioned ✨“hundreds of times”✨

Everything ofc still feels just as captivating, but nothings surprising because im not playing it from the perspective of someone who has absolutely no idea whats going to happen next. Sometimes I overlook and forget how the little details are supposed to make you feel/think about the characters. Like how Undyne is implied to be an abusive boss. After you get to know her, then replay, you hear how Papyrus talks about her at first, and see their interaction as you enter Waterfall, and you completely understand!

But BEFORE- youre like “oooohhh she’s threatening him-“

On this topic, I rewatched some playthroughs, and saw their first reactions to geno papyrus death, and I realized. that this room placement. IS SO COOL!!!!

Normally its like- yep! I just befriended/beat papyrus, time to continue on my way- oo hi sans! sure, ill go to Grillbys with you! Even on replays, you’re not really excepting him in any room hes in, im just like “oh yep, theres the man.”

But when you kill Papyrus for the first time, usually on a geno route. That same thing kicks in. You’re not predicting him to be there cause youre focused on the room youre in currently, but when you GET THERE youre like “oh yeah and thats where Sans is” but he’s NOT THERE and you stop for a millisecond and go “oh, no yeah, that makes sense.”

…the silence doesn’t help either.

Its worse that he’s all over the underground too, not just in the start of Waterfall. Even not seeing him in front of the mtt resort is just a slap in the face 😭

If youve gotten to the phase of killing people on purpose to see what will happen, youve also gotten to the phase of KNOWING theres gonna be consequences, so Sans not being there shoudnt hit as hard as it does BUT IT DOES (at least for me)

The typical reactions to Monster death in general that you cant avoid are Undyne and Sans’ speeches, and neutral run phonecalls. DIALOGUE. things that appear because of what you did. But with Sans its not what he does or says (up until the judgment hall) its what he doesn’t do.

He doesn’t bother to show up, to say anything to you because what is there to say??? Ignoring how personal it is for a sec- Sans knows this isnt your first time playing, but doesn’t comment on it (much). Right now he still believes the anomaly just wants to be happy, so gives the benefit of the doubt.

That is until you kill the dude that is impossible to kill on accident, or argue in self defense.

Now Sans knows the anomaly just wants to know what will happen. Doesn’t care if its bad or not, they’re just curious, so theres no point.

STILL he wants them to reset and do something ELSE so he halfway pleads with them in the judgment hall to rethink what they’ve done. The fact that he asks an answerable question feels important to me, like hes searching for something, ANY reason. But maybe hes trying to make you see that- there was no reason. Youre DUMB and you should RESET because- WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS????

What I also find really powerful even on replays, is the silence after he drops lines like this. Especially the judgment hall question. Sometimes I do sit there and soak in the silence like- “jesus. Yeah, why DID i do that?”

My main point of this entire thing is, I LOVE this game, I LOVE Papyrus and his impact on the game even when he isnt there, and I wish I could play it for the first time again, and fall in love with it all over again, but alas, hitting myself with a rock to screw up my memory only works 17% of the time,

so im happy enough sticking with changing my perspective, and taking a moment to remember what it felt like to accidentally kill toriel and realize your actions have consequences, to beat Undyne the Undying, to hug Asriel, to hear that Undertale was getting a “sequel”, and to hear that dreaded line, “Then why did you kill my brother.” all for the first time again.

[yippeeometer]

here are some ships i believe in with my life with the full intent of pss pss pssing my fellow swashbucklers into my comments :D

NH/VT/ME. hammy monty and maine. not only do i think they match each others freak i think they actively make it worse. theyre the definition of new england gothic not in the sense that theyre trying to haunt people but in that they own lighthouses and like to stand in big empty fields freaking out the locals. also they dont come seperately im afraid monty IS inside maine's sweater during ur meeting

WY/MT. oh my god my wife is a bitch and i love her. my wife is a bitch and shes mean to me and im thinking of throwing myself into a volcano to see if theres any nice rocks i can get her. wy has the kind of social anxiety where he hasn't seen anyone in 6 months bc hes afraid to leave the house but he has to be physically glued to montana to not commit violence.

UT/CO/NM/AZ. my four corners you are soooooooo precious to me i cant believe it. theyre the warmest cuddle pile u can imagine. theyre hatting each other w sticks. theyre a one star rated tribute act. theyre the couple fighting in the dairy isle. theyre having dangerous sex to the soundtrack of paddington 2. theyre everything.

PA/MA. theyre just serving toxic codependent loserhood. they trauma bonded once when they were 17 and thats it since. theyre sooooo disgustingly meant for each other that youre begging them to just split off from the country bc getting a room just isnt enough atp.

WA/OR. breaking news the two worst people you know have found each other and have only enhanced the things about them you hate. they hate to see two bitches serving cunt but unfortunately, these hags are fused together and they'll stay that way to spite you. they publicly divorce 8 billion times a week but ore is caught multiple times gossiping to his husband in morse code when phones are eventually banned from the table.

NY/NJ i can't explain this one anymore than its just the most down bad behavior youve ever seen subtley disguised by the age old excuse of 'its just satire'. mans staring at ur ass in the meeting talking ab 'oh its for the bit'. im just saying ik you two like to fight but does he really need to straddle you to get a punch in.

IL/NV okay yeah it started off as a joke but like. the two scariest little freaks trying to out mafia each other. nevada blushing kicking his feet as illi sends his fourth hitman of the week bc nv was flirting w everyone and their mama to get back at him. utah looks at him with a mixture of confusion and dispear.

[withered--s0uls]

Oh look it's another GD crossover

Ghost Drone AU - @electrozeistyking

You already saw all this art but shhh HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

This originally started out with me just wanting to draw Beanie interacting with the Intertwined Codes Kids but then I added some extra stuff lol.

If you're a reader of Intertwined Codes, this kinda sorta spoils future stuff bc only the twins have been mentioned in the Draft/Teaser fic but oh well. You have been warned.

IC!Uzi wouldn't like actually meet GD!N bc they'd kinda decide that "hey, let's not have the widowed man see an alternate version of his wife that actually got live." simply out of respect kinda?? So she would stick around at home with the kids whilst IC!N goes out to look for Beanies Dad after their kids drag her to them lmao.

So yeah she doesn't necessarily know the extent of the mans depression, the kids just mentioned there only being a dad so she just specifically asks about GD!N in this doodle

IC!N would quickly pick up on GD!N not being completely okay, even without being told any details. So he probably would end up sitting him down to talk on their way back to the IC!Doorman families place, wanting to help if he can in any way. (He runs a Daycare and tries to also be a support to any parent that needs it, so I feel he out of habit would lean into trying to do that with GD!N)

More/The kids under the Cut otherwise the post looks so long rip

I will go over each of these one by one (can'tdo close ups bc 10 image limit, I'll reblog this in a second with the close ups.)

Left are the Code-Related Nuzi kids, right are the adopted ones.

Code related kids

Zagi:

Not much to say, I'm still working out their personality - they're maybe 2-3 years older than Beanie, so they aren't too far apart in age. :)

Orita:

She's the sibling who started the trend of putting stickers on her siblings, so she DEFINITELY would do the same with Beanie.

She also probably originally was going to show her how to build a weapon, but her parents promptly stopped that lmao .

She would think it's really cool that Beanie has a custom core icon & in general is completely customized from the start! She herself was originally put into a regular worker body (just with the tail and headband being custom made by her mom), she had to build the DD forearms herself. She also has a sticker of the DD icon on her core, covering the WD icon :3

Rexim:

At this point he has enough siblings to be past the "ew a little kid" phase, so luckily Beanie gets spared that. His main camera is damaged, he only really uses his headband optics to look around, so he would kinda just look as if he's staring past her a lot. But bc of the obvious cracks in his visor I feel she would pick up on the fact he's not actually ignoring her.

Also he definitely would just play music to her, because IC!Uzi kinda always has music on whilst working in her workspace he kinda picked up some of her taste in music (Hence he's playing the same song that Uzi is shown to have been listening to in Ep7)

Raven:

First up THANK YOU Zeisty for helping me brainstorm silly stuff for them. They're a little ball of chaos now and I love them.

Anyways.

They would join Orita in bedazzling Beanie, and then they'd start talking about bird facts and also try to get Beanie to talk about her interests.

(Their height difference isnt 100% accurate bc halfway through drawing this I changed the IC timeline, making Raven about the same age as Zagi instead of them being a teen, so I kinda had to manually try and semi-fit their heights lol)

Adopted Kids

Ray:

Nothing to say. He's a baby. Tho whilst I was outlining this one I had to giggle because of how big he is in Beanies hands. She's so tiny 😭💕 /affectionate

Annika:

Oh boy. Ann.

Annika is the eldest kid & was adopted a while before Zagi was coded / whilst the parents were organizing the code copies for Zagi

She does NOT know how to talk to other kids. Never did. It made her stick out at the orphanage wing because she just avoided everyone. And it is very chaotic when Olivia and Ray first show up, because Ann's only idea of talking to other Drones is "well you got to be relatable" so she brings up the siblings dead parents bc like, her code parents are dead too. Both pairs dying to DDs. So yeah she probably would be the first, if not only one, in the whole household to just bring up GD!Uzi. She would do it like it's nothing either.

IC!Uzi would promptly get her to stop and sit her down having a conversation about "what did N and I say about trying to connect on that topic?"

Like IC!Uzi would actually feel really bad about it despite Beanie not knowing her mom. Bc she herself obviously didn't remember IC!Nori growing up but still didn't like the topic.

Olivia:

Olivia, as I said, was greeted with the topic of dead parents by Annika as well. So she probably would kinda interfere when IC!Uzi goes to sit Ann down to talk.

She would feel the need to apologize for the older girls behavior (which Ann would apologize for herself later too ofc) and would try to get Beanie to go play something together whilst IC!Uzi sorts that whole situation out.

She's also the closest to Beanies age probably, just was forced to mature bc of what happened to her parents, despite being taken in by Nuzi shortly after. She still obviously acts like a kid tho when comfortable, so I feel she would kinda ease up around Beanie and actually act more like a 4-5 year old around her.

Bonus? Bonus!

Needless to say Beanie would return home covered in stickers & hairpins (Orita & Raven have more than enough of those, they'd just let Beanie keep some)

RIP GD!N having to get her out of those stickers once they're back home

Also, for the "*humming*" variation of the picture I blame @k1k0oftheworld. Kiko was in vc with me when I was talking about how Beanie would be covered in stickers when she gets home, and saw the doodles as well.

He proposed the following scenario after seeing Rexim show Beanie IC!Uzis playlist:

Beanie humming dead batteries song & GD!N having a breakdown bc it reminds him of GD!Uzi

I do not take accountability for this, I was going to spare the poor widowed man.

(I scrapped the idea of him not knowing ab the IC!Doorman family and him getting a mini heart attack when Beanie goes "I met Mom today" in favor of him and IC!N meeting & talking - I WANTED TO SPARE HIS POOR HEART)

@k1k0oftheworld you owe him money for a therapy session now /silly

Anyways that's it, I'll put the close ups in the reblog like I said 👍

[dunmeshi-darlings]

I was inspired by those cute little mouse Beast-Man Kui drew.

How about a super tiny mouse Beast-Man (based on a Half-Foot I guess to make them extra tiny as opposed to a Tall-Man Beast-Man) joining the Laios party?

Who would let them sit on their shoulders? Would Izutsumi try to hunt them? Would Senshi let they hide in his beard? (I'm imagining just a tiny pink nose sticking out there now)

Oh good heavens anon this sounds absolutely adorable! i wish this was a thing in dungeon meshi because i would love to see adorable little mouse beast-men.

He would adore you and ask all kinds of questions, asking if he can look at your whiskers and tail, he would ask questions about what its like living as a mouse beast man.

Laios would offer to carry you around in his backpack, Hanging out in his pack as you read through his monster manual impressed with his knowledge as well as how strangely good he is at drawing...at least when drawing monsters

Marcille would find you absolutely adorable and and tiny, and if you have ever wondered what it feels like to be a purse dog you will find out as she will carry you around and dote on you. even if you get mad at her she cant help but find you adorable and try to give you scratches.

Chilchuck has to constantly get onto her and remind her that you are not in fact a small purse pet and are instead a living sentient person and you deserve respect and not to be treated like a pet. Much to her embarrassment and her forgetting that sometimes, she says she cant help it your little face is too cute.

Chilchuck actually treats you like a regular grown person, he doesnt infantilize you or anything like that. He is incredibly curious about how you seem to be related to half-foots but not the same. That maybe the fact your a beast man changes some things up and you are your own unique race.

He makes sure to help keep you out of trouble in fights, he already knows he isnt good in a fight so he can only imagine the amount of trouble you would have. He would always make sure to get you to a safe spot or keep you hidden so you dont get hurt or anything.

You are absolutely correct he lets you hide in his beard, your little mouse nose sticking out as he goes about his work or cooking. bringing various bits of food down to his beard for you to taste. Him making you his official taste tester as he cooks to make sure it all tastes good.

He also often asks you to help him with the cooking, mostly retrieving ingredients and bringing him his tools he needs for the cooking as he goes about cooking. you are his favorite little assistant chef.

You ever see tom and jerry? yeah thats whats going to happen, you two are going to pick and mess with each other constantly. she chases you around like a regular cat, and you harass and poke at her and take bits of her food when she isnt looking.

Dont be mistaken, you two are the closest in the entire group. bonding about being beast men, your experiences being viewed how you are, and as well as just being inftantalized. You two would be ride or die for each other and would kick the ass of anyone that tried to mess with the other one. you two are the only ones allowed to mess with each other.

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Anyways the “essay” about the energy sword to character development pipeline below the cut

Ok so like yea tucker-crunchbite-junior is, obviously, the first instance of the sword-quest-companion theme/trio that im like, rattling in my head rn

Tucker finds the sword, crunchbite shows up and theres the “quest” that challenges tucker both in the false intent (you need to be the hero) and the true intent (SA leading to Junior which is not handled well but it IS important) which is a push against tucker’s character thus far in that he’s the comic relief, make everything a sex joke archetype— he doesnt take it seriously, he doesnt see himself as important beyond getting just enough recognition to be “hot” and now he’s made to be the so called “hero” and the true plot puts him in the one position that he probably never thought could be him. Bc he wants to get laid so… yeah. Pushes his character if you give it like three seconds of critical thinking and not just the standard “haha alien baby bullshit” (that said, i do enjoy fics that explore crunchbite more and play with the potential of the “joke” shitty character into someone less sinister, but im doin my best to stick to canon rn)

And JUNIOR, oh man, because theres the thing that really solidifies this for me like

The dude who doesnt care doesnt bother is all jokes and ‘man whatever’ energy is a dad, and it starts with him trying to avoid it but he really fucking quickly steps the FUCK up for Junior and its the start of his development that people are like “oh he learns to be a leader on chorus” which i mean kinda yeah but he never struck me as a Leader even on Chorus even tho he does decidedly lead, its not the same as when kimball leads or when wash leads or carolina

He’s leads as a dad bc he is a dad

Not always a good one, but he’s trying and yea sometimes that means being the asshole, sometimes that means screwing up but it also means you fucking care and you take responsibility and you put yourself in danger first (the rescue mission, leaving the lieutenants behind)

And that doesnt start on chorus! Its the most evident there sure but

it starts with junior

It starts with him going after tex to protect his son, it starts with him trying to be a diplomat so they stay together, in sending junior away so he is safe while tucker buys time protecting the temple, it STARTS with him looking at church and going “leave my kid out of this” and yeah the way rvb was written and approached does Not take that seriously bc it wouldnt and if it did it would be a very different show but the implications are there and its acknowledged with tucker’s photograph of junior with his 5th grade basketball team (“i know right? Who carries actual pictures anymore” -tucker) which i could go on about THAT too but suffice to say its very clear that tucker cares so gd much about his kid and yeah his character development isnt super linear but you can basically pinpoint when it starts with the sword and junior

The second run of this trio of things is actually grif which is admittedly, a stretch, a big ol reaching for straws (okay, TECHNICALLY grif is the third run, but i’ll address that in a minute) largely a stretch bc grif… does the pattern backwards

This IS S16 stuff so if ur a shisno paradox hater i respect that, i however am gnawing on it with everything i have and will be going feral so this is your warning thank u for reading the tucker side of it mwah appreciate ya

Anyways

Grif does his plot backwards during timetravel shenanigans

He gets the alien companion/friend who contrasts his character first in Huggins

Grif is a loyal friend, but he is lazy, even after s15’s breakdown and apparent change of tune, he’s still looking to take the path of least resistance, avoiding the call, trying to keep things from moving

Enter Huggins: zippy, full of energy, excitable and just so different in that she is not only so proactive she puts herself in danger (which helps everyone in the long run/plot but its the principle) but shes so fucking lonely

As far as she knows, her family is dead, except for muggins who is so dettached from her, he might as well be a coworker and not her brother

Compared to grif, who has a family even when he tries to push them away (the reds, the blues, KAIKAINA) but hates taking action

Huggins is the start for grif’s arc of “it sucks but someones gotta do it” which in their case is best shown as the trudge across the bottom of the english channel which is so fucking funny to me but it really pushes both of them and puts them firmly in the friends category

Huggins cant zip ahead without grif, grif cant stop moving because huggins wont let him, so they find their little balance of gas vs brakes and together they cruise along p well

The actual push of the “quest” is grif having to be the one who steps up (kinda like tucker but its to the left) he’s the one who starts getting everyone together again across the timeline, even if he is very,,,

Well he’s very Grif about it, but it is still fundamentally, the change in character

Tucker isn’t a always good dad, Grif isn’t always a good instigator of action

But theyre trying and theyre working on it and grif’s arc suffers a Little from being so late in the show and thus not having much of a parallel to pull on but you could argue he gets the parallel from s15 anyways with the refusal of the call (from fake church/loco) and rescue mission but i hesitate to call that a parallel bc its literally back to back but an argument could be made for it which i love

Enter part two: the alien quest giver

“Wait wasnt that huggins”

NOPE huggins was alien companion! The Bestie in grif’s case,

The alien fetch quest comes from atlas, in that stupid wishing sequence but cmon it wouldnt be rvb if the character development wasnt sandwiched inbetween obnoxious gags and stupidity

The quest is less important here admittedly bc again, with grif doing this in reverse its not the challenge to his principle character that it was for tucker, his connection to huggins was the challenge, and this becomes the final push into the development, the “you have a role, now play it” that gives grif the final shove into Doing Things literal!! And his prize? For this character development arc? An alien sword

And thus the inverse version reaches an end, sort of (im pissed that technically he loses his sword, im also ignoring that he loses it in canon bc he fucking earned it okay this is a bit of canon i will ignore and loophole my way around it)

And now we track back to Chorus and to the second iteration of the sword-quest-companion plot

Locus

Now okay i will admit this is conjecture and pepe-silvia-on-corkboard-with-red-string fuckery at this point but hear me out okay!

He gets the sword with Felix’s death. We know this. What we dont know is how the fucking hell he gets off Chorus! We just see him show up later with A’rynasea. The vaguely alien (maybe sentient?? AI? Its implied with the way he addresses her but we literally have her for like two episodes) ship that seems to be the driving force (literal) (bc shes his ship) behind his chosen redemption arc where he pushes himself to help others at no apparent benefit to himself, but because it is, and i quote “the right thing to do”

Arguably, Santa could be Locus’ quest giver, seeing as how he is the one who triggers the whole shift in view for Locus in the first place and that is, technically, what crunchbite does and what atlas finalizes for grif! But the problem is we simply dont have enough of A’rynasea to draw the parallel between her and Locus as personalities, as companions for it to work for me??? But that might just be me overthinking? But it does make Locus’ version is a bit messier depending on who you consider his quest-giver but as far as I’m concerned, he’s still on his quest snd its just up to interpretation if A’rynasea is his companion?? or if theres a secret third alien for Locus that we never wouldve seen even if they planned for that bc its red vs blue and im just delusional about locus and his role in plot and this is just me firing concepts blindly into the sky at this point like - yeah i could still theorize what kind of companion characterization i think locus would work well with bc its more about the wielder than the companion in this sense (sorry junior and huggins i love yall i promise) but thats a completely separate rant at this point and not nearly coherent enough at this exact moment to add it PLUS its ridiculously self indulgent and only marginally canon compliant/adjacent but i will never not be amused by this very specific plot beat happening enough to draw these parallels, as tenuous and vague as the parallels are

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

father ts personal fanfic

includes angst and break up phone calls.

note: this is just something small i wrote for myself of my characters. figured id share! its not amazing, but its something.

im sorry, sweetie, please dont go.

i always knew that you would know.

i know that what i did was wrong.

i always thought id be more strong.

dylan sits at his desk, laptop open to his true crime blog, “NaturalWrath”. he had typed out about half of his journal page and was still typing out more

he had his cd player on, “Youre Gonna Miss it All” by modern baseball was playing. it was a good night, his grandparents were out of town and he had the house to himself.

his phone vibrates against the wood of the desk, making him look over. he raised a brow, seeing as though his boyfriend, sascha, was calling. he thought he was out at a show tonight.

he pulls his hands away from the keyboard and picks up his phone, accepting the call and putting it to his ear.

“hi sascha.” he answered simply, waiting for the other to talk.

“hey, dyl,” sascha replied, although his voice sounded weird, serious even “we gotta talk.”

“yeah, whats up?” dylan didnt think anything of it, he was too focused on what he was doing anyway.

“look, i think youre real great ‘n all, but this aint working out.” it shouldnt have been a surprise to him, but it was.

“what do you mean?” his confusion is clear and suddenly hes ten times more engaged in the conversation.

“you and i are just - going separate ways. i dont think i can be with you no more.”

it wasnt wrong at all. sascha was free spirited and was living his life to the fullest while dylan was stuck in his room constantly studying or working on his blog.

“what?,” he still seems confused, it wasnt getting through his thick skull, hearing the music and yelling in the background only made him jump to conclusions “are you drunk? high? should i come pick you up?”

its the most concerned hes sounded in their entire relationship.

“nah, i aint,” his voice is clear “again, youre great, man, but this isnt for me or you.”

dylan is quiet for a moment, pushing up his glasses and swallowing hard.

“i dont believe you. you must be drunk or something - ill come get you.” he speaks as he stands up, grabbing his car keys from where he kept them on his desk.

“no, im fuckin’ not,” his voice makes the other stop in his tracks “im tryna let you down easy and youre not letting that happen.”

he isnt even sure what to say to that. he couldnt think of what he mightve done wrong.

“sascha, whats going on? is someone making you do this?” it was his only other conclusion. how could sascha leave someone as great as him?

“no ones making me do nothing. *you* must be on somethin’ if thats what youre thinking,” he wasnt expecting him to be so harsh with his wording “look, i found someone different. im sorry i didnt tell you, but this is me tellin’ you now. shes great and im sticking with her.”

“she? her?,” he was dumbfounded “just let me come pick you up, please? let me talk to you in person.”

“goddamnit, no! i dont wanna see you - i want you to stay away from me,” he snapped, clearly agitated now “you aint got what it takes for this shit. youre too busy with your school bullshit and all that stuff you do online,” if it couldnt get any worse, he added “youre a bad fuckin’ boyfriend. im sayin’ it straight to you now.”

hes at a complete loss for words, he has no idea what to think.

“im sorry this cant work out, but im moving on in life. i cant wait on someone who will never move on.”

its like everything finally clicks for dylan, small sniffles can be heard while tears roll down his face.

“sascha, im sorry, please give me another chance,” his voice sounds pathetic, he sounds like he actually cares “im so sorry, ill make it up to you - ill -“

“no, you had your fuckin’ chance for almost two years. im done, *kenneth*.”

the use of his real name hurt even more. he didnt think he would ever use it or even be this serious - he was always too relaxed. even in serious situations he would be calm.

“sascha, i can do better i swear - just, please, ill fix everything.”

“i hope you do well with your school shit and whatever the hell else you got going on. goodnight, kenneth.”

“sascha?”

the call ends with a click and dylan is staring at the floor, tears falling off of his cheeks and messing up his glasses.

what was he supposed to do now? he didnt have anything or anyone else - he was lonely. he didnt bother with other people.

he wanted sascha, but it was too late for that now. he had been too distant and emotionally unavailable. there was nothing he could do.

[ritz-writes]

@asleepyy so sorry for tagging u twice in one day and i hope im not bothering u with my brain rot 😅

but yes, i did actually dissect the lyrics. yes, i am actually insane. and yes, i love this au quite a lot.

here are my notes and what i think each song represents, tho its mainly just the vibes i get. i made notes as i listened to them (note: i see songs almost always in animatic form. idk if that will effect how i imagine what each song means, but i thought it might be worth mentioning)

join me as i lose my mind over the course of an hour and a half

say what you think: def making me think of them both in heaven and jophiel wanting to ask questions.

running up that hill: AHH this one hurt. very obvious as well. jophiel seeing that azazel shouldnt be a demon. "And if I only could I'd make a deal with God, and I'd get Him to swap our places." i am sobbingggg

what difference does it make?: at first i was going to say its jophiel wanting to figure out what went wrong but azazel makes them promise not to, but i think its better suited for azazel understanding hes a demon, but he cant help but still have faith in the almighty

please please please let me get what i want: fuckkk is this about azazel being a demon but still wanting to do good 😭 short but still painful

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn't've): my first reaction to the title alone was like the second image of the kambucha girl meme. anyway i think this one is about them becoming friends (or more?? 👀) but knowing its seen as wrong. "And if I start a commotion, I run the risk of losing you and that's worse" makes me also think of jophiel talking to the metatron and realizing he shouldnt ask about azazel lest he risk the poor thing being smited.

nothing critical: ohhhh this one gives hella vibes of jophiel not trusting heaven and knowing "something isnt right here" in regards to the fall-- HOLD UP "I know, someone had to go, If not him it'd be me instead" HELLO??? aziraphale asking for jophiel??? is this like after he finds out what azazels name used to be??

flowers never bend with the rainfall: hmm... i feel like this is a plot point song. not sure why. but "And I hide behind the shield of my illusion" makes me think it pertains to azazel

bird in space: oh this ones a bit tricky. i think ive reached the songs that no longer fit the lore we've been given thus far. so the only thing i can think rn is jophiel enjoying earthly pleasures? not rlly sure

angel, won't you call me?: oh fuckkk is this about a fight they have? "I fled at the face of my rival. When I felt his breath at the back of my neck. Angel, won't you call?" theres no way that isnt about azazel saying smth and then leaving, only to be scared he severed his tie to the only person thats been nice to him.

the stranger: first of this is a bop and im loving it. very groovy. the first thing that comes to mind is the "choose your faces wisely" prophecy. ooo is this about jophiel trying to convince azazel hes still meant to be an angel? that he wasnt meant to fall? also, the last verse is sticking out to me... not sure why

all i think about now: fuckkkkk this is giving me the vibes of jophiel finding out azazel Fell cuz of him and feeling guilty about it. "If I'm late, can I thank you now?" FUCKING OW?? oh yeah for sure this is about jophiel finding out and being sucker punched with guilt

ill be your mirror: oh goddd this song. i know crowley listens to this song but i cant remember what its about so lets see. AH SHIT YEAH THATS RIGHT. okay so jophiel reminds azazel that he is inherently good, regardless of if hes a demon. thats what im getting from this (also just tihnking of that ask i sent about the reflective sunglasses bthwjegkrw)

me and my husband: okay all im getting from this is "they r down bad". they r very very very much in love. getting vibes of this being after they stop the apocolypse. or maybe their feelings developing thru the centuries

time in a bottle: oh man this song always gets me. okay so, this and the last song r giving the oh-shit-i-might-be-in-love vibes. but this one is with jophiel's pov, while me and my husband is azazel's

ritz note: the last couple songs have been cute and lovey and i am now terrified of what the next ones r gonna be. cuz i know this fandom. and i am not ready for the pain. i am afraidddd

lonesome town: i fucking called it i knew the happy wouldnt last 😭😭 they had a fight didnt they. yeahhh they had a fight. FUCK why is this so sad but so pretty

across the universe: is this one sad too??? hang on theres a bit thats not in english, what does that mean... "Hail to the Heavenly Teacher." okay so i assume this is an azazel song. this is just making me think of the bookshop fire, but its azazel thinking jophiel died 😭 ....i am staring at the lyircs. i am glaring at the lyrics. this song MEANS something. i just dont know what. but its important. im squinting at it very hard (note: i came back to this song and am STILL glaring at it. its like. its like im seeing it covered in sand but i know theres gold underneath. i cant SEE the gold, but i know its there. this is driving me nuts /pos)

no wonder i: hm.. im not rlly sure with this one. OH?? is this azazel finding out heaven isnt that good?? "Suddenly I'm not so sure. That intentions can be pure." hmmmmmmm

what do they know?: holy shit okay this is a completely different kind of song than the others. im.... glaring at these lyrics too. feels like a plot point but cant tell what it is. i think its about jophiel? maybe heaven too?? idk im grasping at straws with this one

sea of love: oh yay a happy song again 😌 okay this is just short and sweet. gives me forgiveness and/or confession vibes.

who are you, really?: this one sounds important and i am glaring!! makes me think of "we dont need heaven we dont need hell" and also "a demon/angel that goes along with hell/heaven as far as he can". also just makes me think of jophiel speaking.

the moon will sing: i fucking love this song but i dont think ive ever looked at the lyrics so lets goooo. right away i see "I could have been anyone, anyone else. Before you made the choice for me" and think of aziraphale asking and falling for jophiel, and in a way making the choice of jophiel staying an angel. "Instead, I made a bed with apathy" jophiel trying not to care about a random demon. "I shine only with the light you gave me" jophiel giving azazel ideas on how to do "good" while being "bad". also with that line, thinking of azazel saying that to god and being sad about having fallen AUGHH i have a whole animatic in my head with this song and im losing my mind

matephor: hnnnn another important sounding song. jophiel vibes. fight song perhaps?? "Don't look too hard 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me" azazel vibes??? this one is elusive to me but i love it. okay im slowly getting more azazel vibes. like azazel trying to convince jophiel that he is a demon and fell for a reason

providence: right away getting "heaven and hell r bad" vibes. OHH okay okay this is giving me hella jophiel vibes, but specificly snarky and sassy jophiel vibes. of being like "oh yes heaven is oh so great, we kill children! but its for the greater good, of course. gotta beat hell and all that, even at the cost of innocents. all for the almighty and her ineffable plan." (this song is a bop omg)

earth angel: oh i know this one but only with crowley and aziraphale, so im excited to listen to it with an oopsie omens mind set. omg wait why does it hit HARDER. love sick azazel is such a cute image 🥺🥰

what more can i do: hmm.. them being in love but knowing its "forbidden"? cant tell who i imagine with it more

starman: this is just them. classic good omens song, regardless of the au. love to see it 💖

a pearl: AH FUCK ANOTHER SAD ONE. mitski whyy. hm.. azazel song? jophiel?? i think jophiel... tho my mind might be turning to mush at this point so im not sure. one of them is sad

duvet: oh def azazel vibes. oh maybe some jophiel vibes too?? i can see it swaping povs. i think it fits azazel more tho.

ritz note: OKAY the next song is in a different language and for a split second i legit thought i was having a stroke when i pulled up the lyrics ngl bgkewrrkjq

différent de toi: no idea what this song is about but its pretty 😊

oh thats all of them! i think the first half is more coherent observations, while the second half is just... rambling a bit lmao. idk if any of this makes sense. i might also be looking for things that arent there with these songs, but oh well. this was fun!

and now, after looking back at them all, i really does just slowly derail near the end lmao

[eddiemunsonbignaturals]

saying grace

a slow morning— declarations— breakfast in bed. 3.8k words

eddie munson x reader smut, 21+

cw: pussy slapping, not choking but like if ya squint sure, oral without protection, lmk if there’s anything i should tag otherwise

heat.

stuffy stillness; warm, stale air; the scent of clove and tobacco on his breath, of your rosemary hair oil; itchy sweat prickling the button of your nose and your scalp; long, fine hair sticking to your cheeks and forehead; and damp plush—

you take sensory stock, counting all your fingers and toes as your claw yourself to consciousness, up through this syrup-trap pit of sleep. your sweetheart, your Eddie, stirs behind you as you stretch your legs and he closes the steaming gap between you, pressing as much of his skin to yours as possible.

you feel like a raw boulder, like a bag of sand, each 100-pound limb still too heavy to fight off the massive blanket your legs are tangled up in. some sunlight makes it through the thick shag of the blanket, and your humid little bubble glows a deep dreamy orange. you feel a different warmth in your chest that melds you to him, and you wonder if you’ve been here for decades, wonder if you’re really carved from sunwarmed stone.

you feel Eddie’s breath, a deep sigh gusting hot over your brow. his chin is resting on the top of your head. the hair sticking to you isnt yours; the silk scarf you sleep in feels as secure as ever! as in: its slid only halfway off your head, only mostly useless. but it is still snug enough to keep your curls back and off your face. you know your sweat is reverting the blowout further, but can’t bring yourself to give a shit. his arm anchors you to the bed by your waist. you try to sit up, but he’s not budging.

he’s started to “snore” at your gentle attempts at slithering out of the cocoon you’ve built for yourselves, and your eyeroll must be audible.

the slide of your free arm up towards your head where the blanket ends, just under his nose, selfish bastard, takes a whole minute; the slow crawl of your opposite-side leg to the bottom edge of this impossibly large goddamn blanket takes two. you abort the first mission and try to roll away from this chest glued to your back, but he finally abandons sleepy pretense and grabs your wrist in his notably dry hand. there’s a vent up there you can’t reach, and it makes your search feel even more dire. your eddie isn’t moved.

“don’t remember givin’ you clearance f’r travel.” gravelly, you think. so, his throat’s dry too. when he speaks, you feel the rumble through your whole body like you’re made of jello.

“don’t remember fucking asking,” you mumble, still sleepy. then you sigh, too. you don’t want to unstick from him, duh, its too comfy here frying alive, but you’re afraid if you don’t move now that you never will, and also maybe your teeth are actually growing moss.

“i’m roasting. eddie. edward. eddie, i’m dying, i’ll die.” his next shitty fake snore rattles your teeth its so loud, and then he doesn’t speak again.

yeah, fuck the scarf. eddie groans, annoyed at your fidgeting, but the sound lilts and lightens happily as you reach up to snatch it off with another huff. its basically soaked, and he’s pulled back to bury his face in your now exposed cloud of hair. he moans into it then pushes his pelvis slowly into you, then back, then forth again to settle.

it all feels so good, he feels so good; its too hot. but you’re too in love to even think of peeling all this skin apart. you’re rubbing against him where ever you can, toes gliding along his calf, hand sliding up and down his thigh, legs rubbing together like a joyful little cricket, and you feel the dark chuckle rumble in his chest as you wiggle your ass back—as if theres a centimeter of room left between you.

now, you’re realizing with a giddy thrill that he’s naked, that his cock is smushed between his stomach and your back. you’ve let a man into your bed, love a man in your bed, you cannot believe it. you have to get out of this oven or you’ll fall back to sleep like this—have to shower and brush your stale tongue, have to hydrate, have to figure out your hair, plan the day ahead.

or, not. no, you dont have anywhere you’d rather be, actually. you flex your glutes, he sighs, and you mull on how your purpose in life might end here: on your side wearing eddie munson like a backpack, his knee bent and nestled between your thighs, his heavy arm depressing your waist. his downy forearm is pressed up under your arm and between your breasts against your sternum, and eddie’s broad and callused hand is clasped tenty around your wrist. god, he’s everywhere, you can taste him from last night, smell yourself on his hands. of course you can’t leave, and he tightens his grip on you with the top arm while he winds the one outstretched under your head around your neck, forcing your chin up and back, snuggling even tighter.

but still, “it’s, hoooot,” you whine, and you shoot your free hand out into the world outside and flip the edge of the blanket down and over your hips as far as you can fling it.

fuck, yes, oxygen. you gulp the blessedly cool air into your lungs and wake up for real as if you’ve splashed water on your face; it tickles your nose.

he gasps at the chill, and you both shiver together at the splashing relief, but your little jolt ends while he keeps up writhing against you. you hum into his elbow ditch, eye closed against your sun-bright room, and kiss each little bat there in turn, then lap up the skin before it dries of his salty sweat. he feels your tongue in his sensitive funny bone like its between his legs, and he squeaks at the tickle. so cute, so fucking cute. you reach your free hand back to take inventory of him and keep up licking and suckling at him, up his arm and down as far as you can crane your head. but eddie releases your trapped forearm and intercepts, capturing the questing hand against your chest where his once was.

even with both hands full he tweaks a nipple somehow and you jerk, moaning only a little in pain. you’re twisting your head back to face him, but he’s tightening his grip, so you give up. “le’mme up,” you say to his bicep, and he lets out another ripping bear-snore.

the sweat cooling where the sweet chilly air rolls across your body is refreshing, and you smack your lips again and swallow against the drymouth. “need water, munson, come on.”

munson hums, faux thoughtful, and grinds his stiffening length against the rift of your ass. you do arch for him, you do sigh, but you hope he doesn’t feel your heart skip, and he says, “I think I know what you need, princess,” and releases one of your hands, freeing his own to drag roughly over your tit, then your stomach, then down between already spreading thighs. with the pillow-arm now braced across your collarbone he rolls you both a bit, just until he’s mostly on his back and you’re a little on top of him, both half-facing the ceiling.

the sweat, the heat, should be uncomfortable, unbearable, but eddie squeezes the luscious chunk of your thigh just at the apex ‘til you wince a bit, and its a different heat entirely that wipes your mind of practical thought. he shakes it just to watch you jiggle, then massages his way down to your knee, spreading you open.the cool air against your sex makes you shiver again— he might be able go feel the goosebumps as they shake you.

those ripples of movement through you make his cock jump, and his hand’s on the outer thigh now, dancing its way to the back of your knee, then hitching it up so your foot falls between his legs.

eddie groans again, short and deep like its wrenched out of him at the slide of his cock against your back, his slit already leaking a snail-trail along the curve of your bum.

“okay, good morning, baby.”

he asks, “can we make a mess?” and you answer by sinking your teeth meanly into his rounded bicep. its supposed to be, “yes please,” that’s what you say, but its muffled by all his ivory flesh in your mouth. eddie hears your accommodating, “yeph, pleaph,” and sets out to prepare his breakfast.

he’s hooking his foot around you knee and trapping your leg open, the prickly scratch of his hair lighting up your sugar-sanded skin like tv static. you press into him for the sensation, and before you can register how fucked you are, he tucks two fingers between your lips and spreads them, exposing your inner folds and swelling clit to the cool air. you hum a breathy ‘uh huh’ around his chewed and reddening arm as he rubs a v-shape up and down your wet lips, and he’s a little distracted with how the sound nudges him on, the little high breath it pulls from him. he’s like a furnace, his exhaust against your face makes you struggle against his grip again.

you’re torn between staying latched and turning to gnaw on his tongue instead, but anyway you repeat your encouragement—‘mm-hmm, mm-hmm!” —right there, exactly right, thank you. its like you’re innocent in this, just answering the rhetorical of his sure fingers. then, after like, eight passes? you realize he’s fucking around with you.

eager now, blood pumping a bit faster, you hump into his palm and he shushes you, so you do it again, and he laughs into your hair when your hips leave the bed to chase him. you grow bolder in your need for him every day, he can’t believe how lovely you are, that you’ve let him see you want him so bad. its a long way from the ice-queen he met all those months ago. but you’re still biting him, slithering your tongue along the seam of his locked elbow, needing the occcupation. not hard, not to bruise, jaw loose enough that he can hear it more clearly when you tell him, “listen, listen— i need water. le’mme up!”

no, actually. he doesn’t think he will.

you can hear the smile. “well, which one is it? you need me more? this?” he says, dipping just a bit below your hole and swiping up, making you twitch hard, “or water?” oh, please. “f-mmm,” you start, but he stills his hand over your heat and cups it like he’s shielding you, a warm cover. he’s got you, you’re safe and held, even trapped in purgatory.

then, “release me, heathen,” he has the nerve to order, so now you’re biting down with intent to harm, force increasing incrementally. he feels you try to fuck up into him again, and he’s running out of time before you break skin. eddie flexes his thigh— gets his heel into the mattress, in what you realize too late is preparation— his leg still traps yours down, a bit of a stretch burning in your inner thigh and hips and making you leak, coating your ass, and your other leg can’t unbend fast enough to close before he pecks your cheekbone through your fluffy hair and then delivers a burst of punishing sharp taps against your clit. the wet slap makes you jerk and squirm as if shocked, heat burning over your cheeks anew. you’re almost shy, now you’ve been scolded.

almost. you’re caving your stomach, curling in against the sting, trying to avoid another onslaught and sinking deeper into the heat building in your stomach, and at last you release his arm with shock, your high choked cries stutter and echo through his head, go straight to the root of him—‘ah—hah- ah!’ they’re forcing your mouth open enough for him to adjust so you can’t take another bite out of him, tighter now so you can’t turn your head.

free now, eddie slides down past your button again and you gasp as his callous catches it on the way down. scratchy, so so good, almost like new. you’re shaking one leg a little, craving more friction, so he dips into the well of sap leaking from your aching pussy, then back up to press lightly against the underside of your clit, swiping left and right, then around and around, no real pattern or rhythm. just reveling in the clicking and squelching of your running wetness.

but he takes pity upon your next raspy, “please? baby, please,” and slows his already slow circles, pulls out from between your slit. “still thirsty,” he concludes, and you’re asking so nicely. you’re so sweet for him in the morning, it seems, so much more willing to melt instead of sharpening, more ready to ask for what you need. he’s gentle in gliding up and down your outside lips, pressing down on them, then releasing your leg and arms together. he drops a kiss to your shoulder and moves to sit up, not breaking all contact, but you miss him behind you already. you grab his hand without thinking, suddenly worried he’s leaving the room but he doesn’t break your grip, just squeezes you back, kisses the corner of your growing pouty frown, and sits up to dangle over the foot of the bed, swinging his legs to lay behind your back.

you’re finally unrestrained but don’t move, can’t, except to press your thighs together and rock them side to side, sliding the two halves of you against each other. you knead idly at one breast, and ghost your finger tips across both nips, watching his body bend, his muscles move beneath his skin. you wait as he sits back up holding your full carafe of water and chugging it. he grips the fancy glass pitcher with both hands and gulps down half the volume, and you recall how he had scoffed at it when he visited your room the first time. you think of the meadow you laid in together, in a position just like this: facing each other, legs extended behind one another, fingers clasped in your weird handshake. like you’re about to play a hand clap game, like he’s going to read your palm. so comfortable hunched together from almost the beginning.

you take the carafe, and gratefully sip as fast as you can for a while as he watches your throat move, you naked chest rising and falling with each breath. his wide brown eyes chase the errant water droplets streaming down your jaw, dripping into your lap. he takes his time checking you out, following the line of you down for a bit, then movement catches his eye. you’re flexing your toes, content, and his hot hand finds your clammy ankle to cradle it, and the warmth spreads up through you, down to your soles. soothing, perfect. outside the bubble of that blanket, you’re colder again than he is, but he’ll let you decide to cover up if the spirit moves you.

he smooths up and down your leg, just because he can, because he knows this familiar ease still sends chills into you, primes you. you announce to yourself, “we have to like, get up and do something. can’t just sit here,” then you’re vulnerable, twisting at the waist to place the mostly empty vessel on your nightstand with both hands; eddie isnt one to waste an opportunity.

“that’s what i’m saying! time for breakfast.”

he’s tying back his hair, smoothing his damp bangs all the way back and lying down. you still haven’t placed the water jug yet— even empty, its solid and bottom-heavy— as he bounces to scoot down the bed, pressing his chest against the strawberry skin of your bum and thick thighs, you exclaim your vexation, almost dropping the thing down and then looking over your shoulder.

“eddie, jesus! can you act like,” and the question is forgotten as he slices his hand between your legs again, widening a gap big enough to fit his head through. your own sense leaves you— your eyebrows shoot up, your smile feels feral, but you let yourself be rolled half on your side again so he can lay more on his back, get one arm under your leg, and hook one hand around the outside of your thigh, hoisting you a little over his shoulder. you think of his rings, of what almost happened. then hes yanking you towards him with a satisfied grunt, so your ass is flush against him. he whispers his thanks at your sex, licking at the oozing evidence of your arousal— “there you are—” and he kisses your pussy with tongue, sucks one lip into his mouth, then the other, lets out a stuttering groan of relief like a starved man at banquet.

“eddie, jesus, eddie.” its a ragged plea, you sound wretched to your own ears, and you don’t know what you’re begging for. maybe a moment to breathe, maybe you just want his name in the air, want him to know how much he kills you, wants his —either way, his chest soars with it, abs flex to the beat. he lives for your pretty mouth around him, even like this. he wants to say, you slay me, you’ll never get it, on your sweat and soft laughter and scowls, i’m sated, but he says:

“s’ no time for saying grace, baby, save it,” and his mouth barely moves around the warning, too focused on lining up his nose against your weepy slit and taking in a big cool breath of air before pressing it in and smothering himself. he wants to kick himself when your giggle is cut short, because its he that robs you of breath when he puckers his lips around you ripe clit and sucks only lightly. you make up the difference when you squeeze his head between your thighs. he’s so at home, its silly.

the press of your thighs, the press of his against your back helping to prop you up. his lovely head peaks only a little past your tummy from this angle, and he sighs happily when your fingers rake through the front of his flattened curls, scratching at his scalp. he’s humping the air like a dog, and you just want to feel him. you reach behind again and this time meet fired iron, the generous sheath of flesh easing his way against your palm. he keens into your pussy as he devours it, hips already stuttering a bit as his eyes screw shut, as you squeeze him at the base of his thick, perfect cock, feel it jump as he knees you gently in the back. you pump it with as much dexterity as you can manage. you start words and can’t finish them, pitch climbing higher and higher as he licks you out and pants into you, pushing you further and further out of orbit.

“f—, sh—, gahh— eddie, mmm eddie yes, please, just like th—hng,” that’s you, trying so hard to sing his praises and failing. he’s too much, this early, and it’s knocking you out.

you work his length, and you’re pulling back the hood of it all and swiping the considerable pool of gelly cum around and around the head of him when he spurts hot a wet across your arm, trembling. you know its not over for him though, not nearly, but you abandon tricks and agility for something simple, letting him fuck your tight hand and twisting a bit, gasping.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, and he could live off the creamed honey you’re dripping down his chin, grinding into his face. he presses the message into your heat, with the knob of his nose carving the way through your folds, slurping and suckling to your rhythm. so sensitive, so responsive, he opens his eyes to watch your perfect tits tremble and bounce as your body jerks in time with his work. his tongue is almost too slick as he laps at you, flicking back and forth where you like best just under the crest of your puffy clit, so he presses harder, puts his whole face to work. it says, yes, princess, take whatever you need, fuck yourself on me, i’ll take care of you as long as you allow it.

you didn’t vocalize through the great long huffs of breath you heaved out at first, chest rattling, or moan aloud at the feeling of his nose burrowing deeper and lower with each swipe up and down and up again. but now the pressure is deepening in your gut, the snake of ecstasy curling and twisting you up inside as eddies evil tongue goes impossibly wide and flat, spreading your nectar all about, and he then narrows as he presses into the opening of your cunt. you can feel him testing you, not quite pushing in even though you know he feels you clenching around nothing, sucking him in, asking him in, and he won’t go yet. you’re panting now, and losing patience. you need his tongue inside, and have to say so. “eddie, for fuck’s sake,” and you pull on his scalp when you feel him giggle against you. “eddie, hah- please baby, please can i have it?”

baby, finally, “hmm?” you know he wants you to say it, so you have to, you have to push past the last shreds of prudishness and say to the room, “eddie, baby, please. would you please put your tongue in me? i need it, fuck me? fuck—“ and you hiccup another gasp, and let out a long solid whine as he pushes his tongue and two fingers into your sobbing hole, curling them in opposite directions to spread you open and search for the other buzzer, the vulnerable spongey spot inside you that set your whole body aflame.

he’s gripping your leg so hard it almost hurts, then sliding that hand up to cup one breast without looking, and with the fingers inside massages your spot relentlessly. your abs are seizing and your leg begins to spasm, you don’t have it in you to force quiet the short needy gasps he’s fucking out of you, breathy pants that each end in a whine almost like a question.

in the haze, as you approach your precipice, you grab his hand and make him reach up high to your mouth, where you suck two of his thick square fingers between your lips and bite down, just to keep him still. he presses down against your tongue and sparks dance behind your eyes with impending release.

you just need something to occupy your mouth while you come, he had said once. to shut me up? you had wondered, but no—he was right, when you couldn’t talk, or wouldn’t, you wanted pressure. every hole filled at once, to feel full, covered in him. and he could only oblige, ever the gentleman. you’re saying his name around his fingers, crying it,

and then the trembling reaches its zenith, and you’re bending your body around him, pouring into his mouth like a doomed ray of light around a fresh black hole, fucking his chin like its the last thing you’ll ever do. his gravity pulls you in so profoundly that you’re scared you might scatter into nothing. your gripping his hair so hard you know it has to burn, and the deep buzz of his moans, so throaty and mean they’re more like growls, run through you so deliciously it shakes you in the nape of your neck, curls your toes.

his mouth stays the course, but when the plunge of his fingers stretching you to bursting is joined by his thumb finally breaching the gate of your vicegrip asshole, soaked and winking, a thousand thousand tons of your being condense into an inch of space, your universe turns to one bright burst of white heat as you come all over him, gushing around his agile tongue and fingers with a cry that rips rough through your throat, sobbing high and tight.

you draw your knees up to your chest with him still between them, and he moves his mouth against your pussy still, kissing out of you slowly. then, panting himself, he watches his star collapse.

back against the bed, one arm draped over his legs and the other still clasped over your panting open mouth, shocked ‘o’ of your lips shiny with drool. he doesn’t have to pry your legs open because your limbs are back to jelly, and he doesn’t have to shield his arms from your teeth, because you’re still coming back to the world when he lays his weight on top of you, elbows by your ears holding him up. he coaxes you with kisses, reminds you, “come on, danishes,” and strokes your hair back and off your neck as you spread your legs to wrap around him, feeling his hardness settle wet under your drenched thigh. you come back to him with a deep breath and a soft whistling exhale, eyes fluttering open, and he’s kissing the teary corners of your eyes and grinning. not smug or gloating, just happy.

you say it together as he leans in to press his lips to your slick forehead, “love you,” and you can’t help but roll your eyes. he shivers at your nails along his back, your lashes on his cheek.

all your little tasks can wait, you think again. he looks at you like he has the world in his arms; you close your eyes and thank whoever’s listening for bringing you home.

••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••

[they-toldmeto]

Bros ego inflated with that last ask (Iwanthimsooooooooobad) Anyways, what's your opinions on your co-workers? Any favorites in particular?

" sure I've got some opinions- " " some might not be very nice but what the hell- "

" first on the chopping block, Jeremy. This guy seems to have an issue with me. Dunno if hes one of those horoscope freaks or if hes just being a dick but he seems to have had it out for me for a while. Avoids me and is always giving me looks. " " tried so hard to be his friend too, whatever man. At least hes staying in his own lane, wouldnt want an accident to happen... "

" Next up! my main man Mike!! Honestly the dudes the closest thing to a genuine friend ive had in a long time. With the exception of Charles. Hes not only a looker , but hes not afraid to take and lose bets and also has got some pretty funny yet horrible jokes. Best of all he isnt judgemental , i just love talking about my sexcapades and adventures with him. Great to know i can be myself when hes around. "

" Fritz , Kids too stuck in his head. too focused on living it up rather than caring for his family. Ive tried telling him he should appreciate what he has... he just doesnt seem to get the hint , kept shrugging me off. Take it from someone who lost everything. Appreciate what you have before you lose it. "

" Charles? ohhh PG!!.. nobody else like him in the world, strong , moral , kind and patient. Been my best friend since we were tots! Been with me through it all honestly. Sure ive been kinda crude to him but he still sticks around. Hes all i have left yknow? "

" but yeah , thats what i think of them. got a few sticks in the mud but whats fun about life without a few assholes? "

[otherentrance]

if i had a nickel for every time david tennant played a space alien who quoted a line from shakespeare to shakespeare and then the poet himself went "i might use that" i dont even know how many nickels id have. probably not a lot but its weird that it happened more than once

ahem

so doctor who s3e2 am i right. The Shakespeare Code

the most unrealistic thing about this episode full of witchcraft and bullshitting people is that shakespeare did the whole "now get out- *sees someone pretty* oh, ok, nvm sit down" but it was about martha and not david tennant. do i need to start shipping the doctor with literal shakespeare out of spite??

so martha and ten sit to chat with The Poet, right, and martha starts doing that thing where she tries to talk using words that pop culture associates with the time just for ten to turn to her and go "no, no, dont do that". rose tyler in the opening of Tooth and Claw is that you?

speaking of rose! "psychic paper, um, ..long story. oh i hate starting from scratch" right so martha doesnt understand the psychic paper because she's new. and i love ten's line here! "i hate starting from scratch"

its funny, because we know how much ten misses rose. we know how much emotional baggage comes with finding a new companion. yet we forget just how long the doctor has been doing this

i havent seen the classic era of doctor who, and i doubt anyone on tumblr has either, but the doctor has, presumably, been loosing people for a long time

& i appreciate how theres a real sense of experience in ten's line here. ofc he doesnt honestly mean "i hate starting from scratch", its just that when you do something for long enough little annoyances about it can tire you. and ten is, among other things, very tired

(similarly, i do very much appreciate this interaction between The Poet and ten. "and you, sir doctor, how can a man so young have eyes so old?" "i do a lot of reading." "a trite reply, yeah? thats what i do." & then ten's got this look on his face! tired eyes, slight smile, like he's softening. recognizing something of himself in shakespeare of all people. god i love him so much)

i think its fascinating, too, how theres a sense of.. unimportance(?) to his new companions when theyre new. like over the years, the people the doctor has interacted with have become just that- people. sure the significance and uniqueness of certain people stick out, but eventually you start seeing just how similar we all are, innately

and theres certainly something to love in that sentiment, that people are at their core very similar, and the doctor certainly loves humanity. but he doesnt know martha well enough for her individuality to matter entirely: she's another chance at happiness, another opportunity, instead of a fully understood person, to him

isnt there something so human in that? isnt there something a little bit tiring about having to unveil yourself to every new person you want to know? isnt it just a little tempting to pretend youre different? to pretend all that emotional baggage, all that history, doesnt exist? they dont know you, they wont unless you tell them, so dont. this is how you outrun the past, by throwing yourself into the future

(completely unrelated but this episode is so funny about queer stuff in hindisght. "so those [actors on stage in 1599] are men dressed as women, right?" "london never changes" like excuse me??? are you trying to imply something sir???

that whole "there was only one bed" scene in which martha is almost flirting but ten just completely ignores it

& then ten is annoyed that martha and shakespeare are stopping to chat so we get: ten: "come on, we can all have a good flirt later!" the poet: "is that promise, doctor?" ten: "oh, 57 academics just punched the air" pardon??

the witch [villain of the week] being seductive to trick ten? "thats one form of magic that isnt gonna work on me"??? oh??? ace ten confirmed????

and then the episode finishes off with banishing the evil witches by shouting "expelliarmus!" and ten throwing in a "good old JK". like i know they didnt know she was an ass in 2007 but man this episode is a rollercoaster)

um. yeah. im normal about doctor who

[daemon-in-my-head]

No but Gortash is actually an insane madman. That man saw a massive dragonborn with 2-4 rows of a lot of razor-sharp teeth and figured "I'm gonna stick my dick in that."

BUT THAT ISNT EVEN WHERE IT ENDS. There's a plethora of gods in the death domain, each and everyone serving and symbolising another aspect of death. Kelemvor, Lord of the dead and their judge; Jergal, Scribe of the dead; Anubis, Guardian of the dead; Myrkul, Lord of the (un)dead. AND WHO THE FUCK DOES GORTASH DECIDE TO SMASH? Yeah, the gore baby of the only death god that is the literal personification of death, as in dying, as in the Lord of Murders test-tube baby. Out of all the death god's, only one motherfucker claimed the process of dying itself for him. And Gortash decided he wanted to be that guy's son in law.

And once again, there's more. Not only does he not value his life or that of his dick, that man is incredible fucking salty and malicious compliance if it came to life.

Gortash likes the iron throne. Spend years there doing mad scientist shit and repurposed it into a prison nowadays. But if you so much as come close to it, even if you couldn't care less about the Gondians and just want to check his diary collection, or, if you're durge, check out what happened to your families heirloom, that guy fucking blows it up. There's like a plethora of other things he could've done but no, he just straight up obliterates it. AND THEN HE HAS THE DAMN AUDACITY TO DECLARE THE ALLIANCE NULL CUZ HE FELT SALTY. Brother in Bhaal I didn't even touch your little workers, I just wanted to read your dirty little secrets. Keeping the Gondians alive is too painful.

As for malicious compliance, not only is that guy fucking quiet quitting, doing the very bare minimum he's required to do while mourning his late wife's passing, he's also doing what he's told but not the way he should be. He's following Bane, he's supposed to be a tyrant, feared by his subjects. Yet that MF is being revered and celebrated as hero. Yes sure he's ruling the city but in the wrong fucking way. Yet Bane can't say shit, cuz Gortash is still wonderfully vile and feared by the Banites, just not anybody else.

What I'm getting at? Gortash is a maniac. I want to dissect his brain and figure out how exactly he manages to work this way and got as old as he is. Also he's hot, I would.

[dextixer]

Yknow, at first i thought i would just make a thread telling everyone how manipulative this post about how "I dont hate critique but critique bad" is, to warn people about snakes in the FNDM hiding in the grass.

But then this utter clownshoes decided to invoke Monty, to talk about Montys wishes. To weaponize a dead person as a cudgel for a fucking internet argument.

This is why i hate most of the RWBY FNDM, because they are all sunshine and rainbows, all progressive, all nice people, or at least they portray themselves to be until they take off their fucking masks. And then all of these supposedly nice people reveal themselves to be manipulative ratfucks.

So, lets be very clear. If you invoke Monty in your shitty internet arguments, you are just a morally defunct person, you are lower than fucking trash. He is a deceased man. His corpse is not there for you to parade him like a fucking puppet for your own arguments.

The fact that it follows a fake ass "nice guy" facade is just the icing on the cake.

Despite the claims of the OP, they were not "suggesting that hate discourages people" they were being a snakey fuck by at first saying "Criticism isnt bad" and then outlining literally EVERY single tired anti-criticism buzzword phrase in existence. Everyone fucking knows that most of the time "Im not saying x is bad BUUUUUT" leads to the person revealing that, yeah, they are saying that X is bad. Its the most fucking elementary silencer for any argument in existence.

We have the ol reliables of

>"If you no like, just leave" >Conflating criticism with hate >Implying that people should not criticize passion projects >Implying that RWBY receives unique kind of criticism that no other thing does

Alongside that we also have some weird implications that RWBY is disliked for being "cringe" and of course, more instances of conflating criticism with "hate". If one pays attention they could easily spot a pattern, take a shot of your favourite drink anytime you see the word "hate" or its synonim when the supposed thread is supposed to be about criticsm.

As far as for the second part of the post that comes after my reply.

Criticism does not have to be constructive, its good when it is, but if a person can see something wrong, they can say its wrong without offering a solution. I dont need to be a professional doctor to see a bone sticking out where it shouldnt be etc.

And lets get back to the old sticking point "Oh, but why does RWBY have separate critic communities".

Because the fandom MADE it a fucking necessity! Just like with shows like Game of Thrones and many others! You think critic spaces or subreddits are some kind of never seen before thing before RWBY?!

The only reason RWBY has them is because of the fucking Fandom!

The RWDE tag on tumblr only exists because people were ASKED for criticism to be something that people could avoid, by tagging a post as RWDE anyone using this platform can easily blacklist the tag and NEVER see anything from it! And yet the Fandom instead of doing so CONSTANTLY comes into the tag, and then constantly bitches and whines about how criticism exists!

The critics subreddit exists because most people there were slowly pushed away from the main sub. It didnt START as that, but it became that when the mods of r/RWBY decided that instead of moderating discussions they would rather throw out all the critics because fans would NEVER behave in critical posts and would either mass report them or cause conflict!

Whether someone likes RWBY or not has NOTHING to do with personal morality. Its also extremelly ironic that there are constant "uwu, people say me bad because i like RWBY" claims with nothing to back them up while on places like twitter you can see RWBY twitter accounts say that anyone who dislikes RWBY is just a misogynist or the like.

I would rather take the most toxic critic foaming at the mouth about how RWBY is bad over people like op, ratfuck snakes who pretend to have no problem with criticism while sneaking in the same fucking anti-criticism shit into their threads.

I dont even criticize RWBY that much anymore and i mostly just tell the critics spaces to not even talk to the larger fandom, and its because of dipshits like the OP.

Because the RWBY FNDM is full of these nice presenting, nice writing manipulative jackasses who are just smiles and rainbows while saying the same tired bullshit as always. Just a reminder, just because someone is "polite" does not mean they are not full of shit.

[hymn-of-muse]

a fiery show

A Kai Smith x Fire Dancer!Reader Requested by Anon!

It was late evening when the ninja's had all set up camp, Cole gathering the wood for the fire and kai lighting it. Sensei Wu had asked you and the ninja to head out on a mission, a stake out, and so far things were going well.

by going well, i mean things were calm, no movement, no news, nothing. So you were all setting up camp and waiting things out until there was something from the enemy.

While the others were working on a schedule of who'd take watch, who'd be checking the perimeter, and when they'd switch, Kai was tending to the fire, making sure it was well lit.

"man things are boring right now. not a single thing has happened since we got here, this is the lamest stakeout ever" kai grumbled to himself as he poked the fire with a stick before adding a log in the space he created.

"well, the point of a stakeout is kinda just to wait for something to happen. sitting around and doing next to nothing but watching is boring but expected." you shrugged, pointing out the obvious.

"well..yeah youre right..i just wish something would happen while we waited so this wouldnt be so boring, you know?" he huffed, sitting down near the fire and placing his chin on his hand as his elbow rested on his knee.

staring at the flames of the fire a bit, thinking with a short hum, you remembered an old sort of "hobby" you used to do and got an idea, looking back up at kai. "maybe i can do something, to make things a little less boring?" you offered a shy smile with the suggestion

"please, be my guest (name), anything besides waiting around" he sighed, gesturing for you to continue.

you stood up, grabbing a few sticks in each hand and briefly dipping each of their ends in the fire. you held them between your fingers with like thin small torches, raising them out away from you as you backed up away from the fire to give yourself some space.

Kai watched with a curious expression. "hey, be careful, i might make it look easy but fire isnt some fun thing to play around with, you might burn yourself." he warned, unsure what you were doing.

"no worries, i got this" you nodded, taking a breath before you went on with your idea and started waving the sticks about. you moved them with your arms as you went about, twirling and stepping lightly and making a little light show with the small makeshift torches in your hands.

the sticks burned a bit quicker than you were used to and you were careful not to move too quickly as to not put the flames out while you were dancing but eventually they did burn out and your little show had to end.

once you finished, your breath was a tad bit heavier as you looked back at kai for his reaction. he had a face of wonder and surprise as he stared back at you, mouth open just a bit. the only noise that came out of him at first was "whoa..."

"...(name) that was so cool! how did you-? what was-? THAT WAS AWESOME" he was quickly hushed from another ninja nearby for raising his voice.

smiling you sat back down, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath before explaining "thanks! that was a style of fire dancing. i used to do that a lot more before i met you guys, im surprised i still remember how to do it honestly. im glad you liked it."

"and here i thought i made fire look cool, you gotta teach me sometime (name)!" kai chuckled.

"maybe another time, you know, when we arent on a mission" you pointed out, giving a shy, soft and short-lived giggle in response.

"right. would you at least tell me more about it? i wanna hear everything" he asked, an enthusiastic smile on his face.

and with that, you spent the rest of the night before sleep explaining your hobby to him. you told him how you got into it, the different styles and more, and he loved all of it. no longer a boring stakeout.

reblogs appreciated! /np