#<- LITERALLY

[star-lights-up]

i want them to wear the comic outfits so bad it's not even funny

kinda crazy these are the same characters

something happened man what the hell

HELLO???

[kheprriverse]

OOT Zelda! This took like... 3 days LOL

I'm still a bit iffy on the colors used for her, so this may change in the future until I figure out a good palette.

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor

Independent Study 01: Art

Series masterlist

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Eddie reflects on your most recent study session.

WC: ~1.68k

C/W: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!! I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll just say that Eddie has some alone time… (If you’ve read the rest of this series you’ll likely not be surprised by any of the content, but if anyone feels strongly that this part needs any specific cautions LMK 💙) No physical descriptions of reader, but she is described as wearing makeup (though this isn’t integral to the story and it’s only one line)

A/N: I know I promised you Lesson 3 was coming soon, but I couldn’t help thinking about how Eddie and reader might feel after their recent tryst in the library, so this extra was born (and you can shout at me about it in the comments if you wish, I would love it ISTG 😂).

As if it wasn’t bad enough already, he muses. Eddie’s been increasingly distracted, and even his Hellfire campaigns are starting to suffer. But ever since that kiss (oh fuck, that kiss) in the library, Eddie absolutely can’t stop thinking about you.

The situation only gets worse when he’s alone, and is compounded further anytime he’s naked.

He’s already jerked off to the thought of you so many times, and he’s certain you knew exactly what you were doing when you brought those (silky, stained) sleep shorts to school for him. (He’s ashamed to admit that he’d spent that morning break under the bleachers with them pressed up against his face, breathing so deeply he almost hyperventilated, and since he got them home they haven’t left his bed.) But he still feels like it’s somehow wrong for him to think about you like this, and he’s sure you’ll see it written all over his face…

This isn’t the first time he’s thought about you whilst he’s in the shower, either. In fact, that started even before you became his tutor - it just took you wearing a particularly short skirt to biology class and it rapidly became a favourite pastime of his.

But today, thanks to your unexpectedly steamy study session in the library, his his cock is already fully hard, standing proudly in front of him within moments of him stepping into the tub, and his mental imagery is especially vivid.

He manages a quick wash before the throbbing between his legs demands his full attention, and his thoughts inevitably turn back to you.

Taking his cock lightly in his hand, he imagines kissing you gently, slowly. He remembers how your lips and mouth felt against his, and how your hands crept up his back over his shirt just hours ago. He recalls every movement, every sensation, as if to burn it permanently into his memory. The feel of your lips, how you smelled, how -oh god- how you tasted. He thinks about how gentle and soft your tongue was, and how he can’t get the sensation of it sliding against his out of his mind. It’s jostling for space next to the thoughts of how much he wants to use his own to explore every inch of you, if you’d ever let him.

Then, in his mind, you’re going over more test questions with him, just like you were in the study room. Except now each time he gets a question right, you praise him, stroke his face… and remove an item of clothing.

Eventually your clothing is all gone and you’re kneeling in front of him here in the shower, the warm water cascading over you in sparkling rivulets. Your naked body seems to glow, and your skin has an otherworldly, fantastical iridescence. Your pretty makeup smears and runs, creating delicate streaks of colour down your cheeks. And you’re wearing a shining tiara made of precious metals and sparkling stones.

His Princess.

Your knees are spread, leaving yourself open, and he imagines how you’d feel on his fingers. Soft, warm, wet, waiting.

He suppresses a moan, lest any of his neighbours are passing by. The flimsy walls of these trailers are hardly soundproof.

He curses as he imagines your hands running over his taut quads, your lips kissing them, then your soft, warm tongue tickling up his inner thighs towards his cock.

Eddie strokes his fingers delicately over his sack, imagining it’s you licking him, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes as you promise,

“Let me show you what a clever boy you are, Eddie. How much of a reward you deserve for working that beautiful brain so hard.”

And then you’re running your tongue up the full length of his cock, all the way from base to tip, but this time you’re not using biological terms, not trying to educate him. This time, you’re just filling yourself with him, suckling on his swollen head and sliding your wet mouth down onto him, further, further, until the tip of him is nudging your throat.

He thinks back to the last time you were on his sofa, your last ‘lesson’, how good you looked and felt when you took his cock in your mouth and looked at him as he grasped your hand. How your tongue swirled so devilishly before you nodded so sweetly and let him cum down your throat. How you licked his release from your lips…

He feels his balls tighten and a familiar sensation stirs in his abdomen, but he doesn't want this to be over yet, so he grips and squeezes that part of his dick that he knows will stave off his orgasm, opening his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, focussing on the swirl of the soapy water as it spirals down the drain.

Breathing deep, Eddie allows himself to slowly and elaborately create a new fantasy, this time imagining he’s pressing you up against the tiled wall.

He wonders what your wet skin might feel like against his, and how your tits might feel against his chest, beneath his hands, in his mouth.

He pictures what it’d be like to nudge your feet apart, just a little, and slot his hips between those luscious thighs.

How it’d feel to push through your glorious folds with the tip of his cock, and slide slowly into your warmth and wetness. The thought makes his breath leave his body in a rush, and he has to stifle another moan.

He wonders how pliant you’d be, whether you’d tell him how talented he is, how much you love it when he does this, how good you’re gonna be for him.

He wonders whether he'd be sweet, telling you you’re so beautiful, how he'll always take care of you, and treat you like the princess you are.

Or whether you’d be filthy, spilling profanities as you urge him to fill you deeper, take you faster, go harder.

And whether he’d ever have the balls to talk dirty to you, and tell you how well you take him, how your cunt is so perfect for him, how much he wants you, and adores fucking you.

Dick slick with foaming shower gel, Eddie’s swollen member slides almost effortlessly into his fist. He braces himself on his free forearm, palm flat against the tiles, imagining your body is between him and the cool ceramic, moving you both with each thrust of his hips.

He imagines his warm chest pressed to yours, and how the water feels trickling over and between your writhing forms as it flows over his shoulders, across your tits, over his balls and down between your thighs.

He groans into the steamed up space as he bucks up into his fist, imagining it’s your wet and willing pussy. Would you cum like this? It’s his fantasy, so of course you would… He wonders how it would feel. Would it be like he’s read about, where you’d be tight around him, squeezing his length as you rode out your high?

He can almost hear your moans as the head of his cock hits that special spot inside you that - just as you promised the first time you came over - you taught him to find. His ego lets him imagine he’d be skilled, maybe the best you’d had, and he imagines how your voice would eventually crack as you'd breathily tell him, just as you did in the library,

“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”

All of it combined is enough to tip him over. His hips stutter and his abdomen tenses as he cums with a broken groan, his vision becoming spotty as his wet spend spurts high up the tiles, some of it almost reaching eye level, sticking to the wall in sweeping, dripping splashes and the rest running down over his hand and wrist.

He squeezes himself, milking his cock of every last drop, whispering your name as he leans his forehead against his forearm and rests there, catching his breath. He’s not sure if he’s ever cum that hard by himself, and he certainly never has in the shower.

Vision clearing, he appraises the evidence of his lust. Human art on ceramic canvas.

However, for once it’s not an artistic display of his that he wants anyone else to see. He makes a mental note to clean off the tiles higher up than he normally would, and begins to rinse off under the cooling stream.

Shit. Wayne’s gonna be pissed when he comes home to find he’s used up all the hot water, and he doesn’t even have an excuse.

As he sluices the mess he’s made down the drain and his post-orgasm fog starts to lift, Eddie starts to feel like the deviant perv he’s sure he must be. He also realises how increasingly difficult it’s getting for him to suppress the various feelings he has for you. How the hell is he supposed to face you after this?

Is this that thing he’s heard about? Post Nut Clarity, or something?

Coming down from his high, he wonders what you’re doing right now. Probably hanging with friends, or diligently doing your homework. Something innocent and worthy. Wholesome.

By stark contrast, as he considers the somewhat-uncomfortable, almost-permanent semi he sports when you’re anywhere near him. Or, when he knows you’re in school generally. Or, fuck, simply just whenever he thinks about you. Suddenly he’s grateful for the cooling water, as his dick threatens to get hard again just from the mere thought of seeing you in class, or passing you in a corridor.

But then there’s also… the other feelings. The ones he’s never experienced before. The ones that tell him there’s so much more to this than just ‘having fun whilst tutoring’. At least, there is from his perspective.

Because what if this is just a temporary arrangement, and once he passes biology class you’ll have had your fun and will move on. Maybe even with somebody else?

Or, what if you feel the same?

And honestly? He’s not certain which prospect terrifies him the most…

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked this little extra ❤️

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Next part: Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

If you’d like to join the taglist for this series or my general one, just drop me a comment, ask or message letting me know, I’d love to have you on board 💗

Taglist (open): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons and because you said you like fantasies @mediocredreams 😉

[hermitcraftx]

mumbo, to scar: "you know, you're the second person to give me a diamond block. i must just exude......" pause "poverty."

scar: yes, this man right here, he exudes... you look like the man whos gonna take your money at the bank

helppppppppppppppppp scar really said ok monopoly man heres some help getting started

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

For a blog called the badly drawn sanses, your arts be improveing- at least in my eyes lol. Just saying I like your art <333!

i'm probably gonna go back to low-effort to curb burnout (posting twice a day and whatnot) but in the meantime, have a Killer in the less non-bad artstyle :D

[losingcontrolatincreasingpace]

i need more shitpost noise rock like Execution Commentary. it just scratches the itch in my brain

[catilinas]

this happened to my buddy cicero

[felixravinstills]

@felixravinstills moodboard

inspired by @persephoneprice

This is in some sense a poet’s basic work. Poets, critics, historians, archaeologists, artists spend their working lives as necromancers, raising the dead in order to enter into their imaginations and experience, an ordinary and probably necessary human pastime.

—Emily Vermeule, “Creatures of the Day: The Stupid Dead.” Aspects of Death in Early Greek Art and Poetry

Fun Facts:

I apparently can only make moodboards if they are the moodboard equivalent of crack treated seriously...

Most of these pictures were in my camera roll... Pinterest hates me so...

Moon jellies are my favorite animal (picture taken in an aquarium I visited once)

That eye is my actual eye!

With the exception of the myrtle wreath, Leonardo da Vinci sketch, and Monet painting, all these pictures (excluding my pfp although I did Photoshop that one) were taken by me.

The Monet painting and the da Vinci sketch have always fascinated me because highlights an artist's fascination with death/a kind of objectification of the subject. (according to a story that might not be true, Monet couldn't look at his dying wife without thinking about how to miss the colors for the painting)

The notebook with writing is literally a boring entry from a random day from my own old journal. (first page I flipped to that didn't have anything super personal on it)

also Monet painting and myrtle wreath are a reference to other sideblogs lol

The quote underlined in blue in the book page is the quote I have under the moodboard... (I dug that book out just for this lol)

[psychesetra]

lif updat or whatevr ft. mention of @/the-real-gmail

voice reveal ig.. was yoo lazy tot yp it all

[purrfectnothing]

silly guy..

[bidamonalbarn]

FOR EVERY QUESTION WHY!!!! YOU WERE MY BECAUSE!!!!

[upper-eepy-sleepy-girl]

why am I upper eepy? well it's simple, I spend all night modding my desktop til I think it's perfect..

[no0t2]

@checkadii

I literally just woke up so this is the worst time to post this but ngl I have this problem where I wanna talk about it but I blank so fucking hard and fall flat on my face that I end up not talking about it anyway out of sheer embarrassment.

I'm not good at structuring my thoughts properly either because of ADHD, but here goes I guess.

I usually gotta segway into the topic if it's relevant to the conversation usually via,, friend convo, I don't know how people do deepdives of characters and whatnot I can't do that. I'm not sure why that is, this always has been a thing for me where I've got some level of understanding and my own HCs and such but they're not written or anything, so I can't express them.

To me Postal is just a silly series (minus P1 and Redux), not to be taken too seriously. So I don't really think about the "lore" that it has so much. I can ramble about Postal: Brain Damaged tho, that's probably my favourite cos of gameplay... And the designs as well as the soundtrack. It's just such a good game, I never thought shooters would ever be a genre I'd like to play, as I was so against playing them (thanks Half-Life for opening up my eyes). I can say definitely with confidence that retro styled FPS are especially something I find fun? Not on intense difficulty or anything either, I usually can't go above normal.

I've listened to "Straight Outta Suburbia" for like over an hour straight, I'm pretty sure even during while I was drawing one of my BD sketches lol

Back to Postal in general, I frankly haven't done enough "research" on it where I can properly speak about it aside from the games I've played (P1, P2, Paradise Lost and P:BD) And they're all games that are super different from each other (aside from P2 and PL, but even then). I'd also say I'm still pretty new to the series, speaking as I haven't played all of the games yet. Frankly, I was planning to just stick to P2 and that's it, glad I didn't.

Postal 1 I remember making me feel all sorts of weird things when I both played it and after I finished it. The load up intro scared the shit out of me the first time I opened the game, to where I had to pause for a minute. And it kept spooking me each time I did open it. I think that was kinda the point of the game as it's pretty dark compared to it's counterparts. I won't get into the lore of the 1st Dude cos I've seen people pluck at each other's feathers over the interpretation of him. But essentially, guy looses his shit during an episode, starts killing everyone. (Or just, "hostiles", depends how you play the game.)

P2 is so wildly different (aside from the fact that you can shoot people) that when I first opened it I was so confused how I was met with THAT Dude. I was surprised to hear him talk more beyond than just "BLEED" or "Only my weapon understands me". At the time I was also wrangling personal fears and feelings(which I don't know if I wanna get into, let alone if people would even wanna hear it lol) over playing the Postal series, so my initial expectation towards the game was:

"Okay, I know this is going to have some offensive shit in it, there's parts that won't be fun probably." And hoped for the worst, surprisingly a lot of the stuff in it I didn't find that bad, most of it is definitely fucked up, but nothing I couldn't handle, surprisingly. I played neutral-y, so I only attacked whoever attacked me, but I'd bail if I had the chance.

Paradise Lost plays similarly to Postal 2 (as it's literally the same branch of game just in the form of DLC). But I've found myself enjoying it way more than Postal 2, mostly cuz I found some of the jokes in it actually funny.

P3 I haven't played because I got rick rolled by RWS on the website so I'm not gonna play it out of spite </33 (But I've seen gameplay)

Postal: Brain Damaged is like, even more different than the previous entries as it's a retro styled shooter. But it has the charm of a Postal game and MAN is it good, I think the fact that it was released more recently is what made me enjoy its humor more. And it just!! Is so fun in general like wow, I'm still processing playing the game and I've already been thinking of replaying it because of how much I've enjoyed it. Definitely recommend trying it out.

AND WOWWW this has gotten long oops. Sorry.

I wanna note tho that, although there are aspects of Postal I enjoy, there's a lot of them that I don't, namely the offensive bits, some of them are genuinely fucked up where I can't go past them even in a comedic sense. Which I think is OK. I still enjoy other parts of it :^]

[bookwyrminspiration]

hahah nooo dog I’m dogsitting don’t have a stomachache and shit urself you’re so silly haha 🤪

[meirimerens]

the drama of these fucking boots. equestrian au is just an elaborate excuse for me to look at riding equipment online and daydream about owning it