#a duck writes

[aduckwithears]

Sharing this in its own post. See here for context - basically a scene in Job's basement "planning" what to do with the kids... like most of their plans it is lacking in details, but makes up for that with longing glances. (i guess i write fic now??)

---

I'm torn, because this conversation could have happened in the cellar, or it could have been a speed-run on the way back from seeing God talk to Job. Anyway, I ended up writing the first scenario. Feel free to fill in the blanks afterward with any, um, more physical activities you like, you degenerates (affectionate).

Aziraphale's First Magic Trick (or, how Crowley unwittingly starts the career of The Amazing Mister Fell, an act which will have Repercussions)

Aziraphale is very full. He's never been fuller. Although he has no reference point for his own stomach, he is starting to suspect that a human would never consume an entire ox. By oneself. In one sitting. 

He glances over at Crawley who seems to be completely enjoying himself, lounging with head lolling back, his wine cup half raised, and eyes half closed. There is a temptation to linger on this sight, but Aziraphale remembers (after several longish moments) that he, as an angel, cannot be tempted, and rapidly readjusts his gaze. It falls upon a clay bowl and 3 multicolored shape-shifted children.

"Crawley, the children!"

"Hmmm?"

"The children! They can't stay newts!"

Crawley hoists himself up on one elbow and looks over at the bowl. "Nahh, not newts. They're a type of lizard - meant for the desert, them. They're fine."

Aziraphale levels a stern, if slightly greasy stare in the direction of the demon. "That's not what I meant. How are you planning to return them to their parents?"

Crawley looks surprised. He had been trying to think of the exact type of lizard the form of the transformation had taken. He thought it might be a grecian but that didn't seem quite right. Greco? Still not it... He tries to focus through the wine. "Back to their parents? Doesn't seem very demonic." He shakes his head. "I got rid of them - no more kids, poof, gone - seems like it would take a miracle to get them back." He waves a hand dismissively. 

Aziraphale huffs out a breath. "Well, they can't stay that way forever. If we could get them back to Sitis and Job after the bet is over, maybe they could be taken as new children..." He trails off, realizing what he is saying.

Crawley is now sitting all the way up, wine goblet forgotten and dangling from his fingers as he slowly raises both eyebrows and aims a golden gaze at the angel. "Ohhhh, do go on," he drawls. 

Finding it suddenly very important to look anywhere but Crawley, Aziraphale feels his shoulders hunch. The taste in his mouth is too oily and his tongue seems raw. "Ahhhh," he says eloquently, casting his eyes about the cellar and encountering bare oxen ribs in his attempt to not look at the attentive demon. He turns his gaze miserably to the floor. 

Several minutes pass and the uncomfortable silence grows, until a wiggle turns into a rustle turns into a black dressed form elegantly scooting (possible if you were once a snake and your human spine is open to suggestion) a little closer to his despondent companion. 

"What about a magic trick?" 

Aziraphale flicks his eyes over to where Crawley sits nearby, long legs folded, gazing up at him. "A... trick,” he manages over his oily tongue.

"Look," says Crawley, "between you and me, Gabriel couldn't tell these kids from Cain and Abel. I doubt he can even count to three." Aziraphale chokes a little, halfway between a laugh and gasp, but he must hand it to the demon, Gabriel has never seemed to be the brightest angel in the choir. He thinks about his recent conversations in Heaven and Gabriel’s insistence that God will provide seven new children to Job. Via Sitis (oh that poor woman).

The red hair and beard shimmer in the low light as Crawley leans forward and catches Aziraphale's eyes with his own. "So we'll do a magic trick. Sitis's births have to start sometime, why not right away?"

"Because... uh... well, you see..." Aziraphale himself is completely at sea. He reflects that perhaps humans do not eat entire oxen because it seems to diminish the power of thought. Does he have a general working knowledge of human reproduction? Yes. (He'd been on the human planning committee after all). Could he explain it to the wide-eyed being sitting in front of him? No. This is probably due to the taste of oxen stifling his brain. No other reason. Certainly not. 

Crawley sighs, points to decimated ox. "Do ya get it? Ribs!" He grins. 

Aziraphale feels his mouth drift open. He looks at the ox, ribs glinting white in the flickering light. He remembers another day, a flickering morning, and a woman taking her first breaths… and more importantly, a birth process Gabriel would believe… “Eve!”

The demon’s grin, impossibly, widens. “Exactly. Even if there are a few angels hanging around it should be easy to plant a few ribs, sneak in a few lizards” (what WERE they called? Gemini? Arghh…) “…and poof! Kids!” His hands flutter in the air. A distant, anachronistic part of Aziraphale’s brain categorizes these as Jazz Hands.

“Magicians!” Aziraphale allows himself a small smile. His shoulders relax. He crinkles his eyes towards Crawley, misses the small intake of breath from his demonic cellar-mate. “That could work!” He hesitates. “As long as no one asks directly which children these are, we should be fine!”

Crawley scoots back and resumes his comfortable position from earlier, refills the forgotten goblet, raises another toast. “Angel, the archangel Gabriel wouldn't notice if his wings were on backward. You bring the ribs and gecko-kids (that was it!! Geckos! Course it was!), I’ll do the talking. We’ll be fine." He takes a deep drink of wine.

Aziraphale's smile grows and he thinks that maybe a few of those ox bones need a little more work to be truly clean. He wiggles a little at the anticipation of the rich taste. He casts a quick glance at his companion, who seems, true to his word, not particularly lonely. His magician’s assistant. They will be fine. 

[cairafea]

my favourite genre of seventeen is when they're straight up lying

ref:

[aduckwithears]

"Crowley, I'm going to need the use of my hand." *

"Nah" <hand-holding intensifies>

"... Quite right." **

*Aziraphale needs to be able to use both hands for reasons likely related to Plot

**Ah, it probably isn't that important.

I want Aziraphale and Crowley to hash out all the emotional shit the first fucking episode of S3 and the rest of the season is them toddling around as they always have, trying to save the world but like... kissing about it.

[mournfulroses]

Henrik Ibsen, from a play titled "The Wild Duck," featured in Six Plays by Henrik Ibsen

[puck-luck]

Trevor gives off the vibes where he’d love just being in his girl even if it’s not sexual like they’ll just be sitting there watching tv and before you know it he’s inside of her and they’re just vibing together. I also feel like he’d be so into free use with his girl like he’ll be playing video games and she’ll get off while she uses him or she’ll be laying there reading and he’s just inside of her getting off on his own

4 + 1: Free Use with BF!Trevor

I.

After talking about it, you’ve taken to wearing thongs and an oversized t-shirt around the house. Trevor needs easy access, after all, and you had made a promise. 

You’re reading a book on the couch when he gets home from some Ducks event. You’re laying along the length of the cushions on your stomach, knees bent and ankles crossed, kicking your feet in the air aimlessly. The book is propped up against a throw pillow and you’re lazily turning the pages. 

When Trevor arrives home, you look up at him. “Hi, baby,” you greet. “Good day?”

He’s the perfect picture cuddly boyfriend, which is why he’d been late getting out of bed for this event in the first place. He hadn’t even had time to change. He’s still wearing those BU sweatpants you love so much and the white hoodie he’d found at the foot of your bed. 

Trevor offers you a complacent smile. “It was fine.” He walks over to the couch and pushes your legs down until they’re flat on the cushions. He collapses on top of your back, laying with his head just between your shoulder blades.

You let out a small chuckle, barely more than a puff of breath, and return to your book. You’re being pressed into the cushions by a lot more than gravity now, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have your boyfriend so close, especially as he’s snaking his hands up the sides of your shirt and tracing your skin.

He kisses your spine. “Can I?” Trevor asks, his voice muffled and pouty against your back. He shifts up on his knees so he can press his hips to your ass.

It’s the first time that Trevor has wanted to do this since you talked about it. Free use. Goosebumps rise on your neck. 

“You don’t have to ask,” you remind Trevor, although it’s nice that he did since it’s the first time he’s actually going to use you like this. “‘m all yours, babe.”

Trevor hums proudly at that, pecking your shoulder before pulling away from you entirely. He leans back on his heels and pushes his sweats down. 

You look again to your book. You can feel Trevor stroking himself to his full hardness and you bite your bottom lip. You’re wet thinking about how Trevor just wants to be inside of you, to treat you like no more than a hole to be filled when he wants to fill it, but you’re not particularly inclined to participate. That’s the whole point, after all, isn’t it?

He pushes your legs apart, then settles between them. The blunt tip of his cock probes your entrance and sinks into you.

The drag is harsh and it gets harder and harder to read as Trevor becomes more drunk on this feeling. You feign nonchalance. 

Trevor grips your hips and drives his cock into your heat over and over and over again. There’s no regard for you, for your pleasure. It’s only about his pleasure and, honestly, that makes you feel good. Trevor’s climax, in this state, means much more to you than your own. As long as he’s feeling good, then you’re happy to be used.

He doesn’t waste time on anything other than chasing his orgasm. You get to hear Trevor in his purest state– this is like fucking his own fist in complete privacy, but instead, he’s fucking into you. You get to hear all of his grunts and groans and puffs of breath and stifled whimpers, all of which he makes when you’re together too, but he likes to make them more manly and sexy when he’s putting on a show for you. Truth be told, you like these better. You like that Trevor can’t stop the stutter of his hips and the keen that escapes his mouth as he starts to shoot off inside of you.

You love how he moves to bracket your ribs with his arms, palms flat on the couch. His hips continue to move as he works through his orgasm, cum dribbling from his tip into your cunt. Trevor’s lips find your neck, your shoulder, your spine… he plants grateful kiss after grateful kiss to your back until his movements slow to pure stillness and Trevor lays against you.

His cock remains inside, acting like a plug to keep the cum from leaking out of you onto the couch. Trevor hooks his nose over your shoulder. “I hope I didn’t disturb your reading,” Trevor mumbles. He takes some of the fabric of your shirt in his mouth, tugging on it. “Couldn’t resist.”

II. 

“Hey, babe, c’mere,” Trevor calls from down the hall.

“What, Trev?” you reply. You scrunch your hair in a towel, having just gotten out of the shower a few minutes prior. When he doesn’t reply, you roll your eyes and leave the bathroom, making your way into Trevor’s game room. “What, Trev,” you repeat in a more exasperated voice.

He looks over his shoulder and moves one of his headphones to the side. His face splits into a grin. “Oh, good. Take your towel off and come here.” He spreads his legs, scooting back in his wheely chair so you can fit partially beneath the desk. “I want to use your mouth.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, then shake your head and chuckle. “Really?”

Trevor nods and lifts his hips enticingly. 

“Are you going to game while I suck you off?” you ask.

Trevor nods again and smiles wide. 

You start to laugh again, walking over to where he sits and putting your hands on his knees. You bend at the waist and peck his lips before sliding to your knees. 

Trevor grabs a hairtie from the desk and ties your hair into the world’s most hurried bun. Then, he leans back in his chair and picks up his controller. He puts his headphones back over both ears and resumes his game. He lifts his hips as you start to drag his waistband down. 

You lick Trevor’s tip slowly with the flat of your tongue, peeking up through your eyelashes as you do and catching the way the corners of his mouth turn up. His eyes stay on the screen. 

The hair on Trevor’s thighs is soft and you pet through it as you slide his cock into your throat. You scratch your nails gently over his skin, closing your eyes and starting to bob your head. Trevor’s cock is thick and tastes slightly salty as precum oozes from his tip and seeps into your warm mouth.

Trevor’s breath is deep and his expression remains mostly unaffected. You aim to change that.

You swallow him down as much as you can. Trevor’s cock flexes with your swallow, filling all the space that you give him. You gag, but force your way down until your lips are wrapped around Trevor’s base. You lift your eyes to his face and find Trevor’s gaze on you, wide smirk on his face.

“Showing off?” Trevor asks knowingly.

Stilted by the cock in your mouth, you shake your head. 

“Then fuck your mouth for me, will ya?” Trevor instructs goodnaturedly, nudging you with his foot and grinning at you. 

You choke a little bit on Trevor’s cock when you laugh at his words, but you pull off and put your mouth to work.

You lay your hand flat on Trevor’s hip and caress his abdomen with your thumb, bobbing your head up and down. His tip knocks into the back of your throat as you push yourself down, alternating between lathering your tongue over his tip and deepthroating him until you have to pull off and gasp for breath. 

Trevor plays on. You can hear the clicking of his controller and the way he’ll let out an annoyed groan whenever something goes wrong on the screen.

You lap at his tip and fit your lips around his crown, sucking softly and flicking the tip of your tongue over his slit, collecting the precum there and begging for more to come out and coat your tongue. You hum and take him down about halfway, drawing your fingers gently up and down the rest of his shaft. You’re barely touching him in this moment, just ghosting over his veins and ridges. When you take him all the way down, you cup his balls and roll them in your palm. When you give them a squeeze, Trevor’s cock jumps in your mouth.

It’s the first physical reaction, beside how hard his length is, that you’ve gotten from Trevor.

You repeat the actions over and over. Trevor’s cock is steadily leaking precum now, the taste filling your mouth, and you can feel his pulse growing more and more rapid on your tongue. You breathe through your nose, choking yourself on Trevor’s length and allowing spit to drip down his cock until he’s positively coated. 

Massaging the vein on the underside of Trevor’s cock with the flat your tongue, you swallow around his tip. His cock jerks again, bumping into the roof of your mouth a telltale three, four, five times before pearly white cum shoots down your throat in long, thick threads.

You swallow around him until Trevor is done coming and there’s nothing left in your throat but the aftertaste. 

You kneel back on your heels and use the momentum to make your way to your feet, pecking Trevor’s mouth again and heading back to the bathroom to finish your post-shower routine.

III. 

You’re wearing Trevor’s pink sweatshirt, the one with Roman numerals on the breastbone, and chopping up vegetables for a pasta sauce. You’ve already got four tomatoes halved and thrown in the blender, plus an onion that you cut into quarters. There are a few cloves of garlic thrown into the blender with those veggies and you’re about to start blending them, once you finish chopping this carrot into fine little pieces. Really, you’re just trying to blend all of your veggies that are about to go bad together so that they don’t go to waste. Even if it tastes like shit, your boyfriend is like a vaccuum when it comes to any kind of food, and he’ll eat as much as you give him.

It’s been a couple of months since you and Trevor started this free use journey and you’ve stopped wearing underwear altogether when you’re around the house. Trevor has ruined a few pairs already, by stretching them out or physically ripping them off of your body due to his lack of patience, and you’d rather not have to buy new underwear every other month. 

It’s lucky that you’re wearing nothing, given how Trevor walks in the front door after practice and drops everything where he stands before beelining to you. He presses his face into your hair and breathes in deeply, shoving his hands up the sweatshirt and kneading your boobs.

“Long day?” you ask, chuckling and chopping up the final pieces of carrot before putting the knife to the side. You pick up handful after handful of carrots and toss them in the blender, eventually wiping your hands on the teatowel you’d thrown on the counter after washing the tomatoes. 

“The longest,” Trevor replies. One of his hands leaves your chest, retreating to pull his cock out of his pants. He fists the base and rubs his tip against your folds until he’s hard and straining and you’re slick enough for him to press inside.

You’re doing your best to pour a dash of vegetable oil and a bit of heavy cream into the blender so that the vegetables blend more easily, but Trevor has started to thrust against you. The carton of heavy cream slips and you pour way more than you wanted to, but you catch your mistake before the sauce will be too creamy. You close the carton with one hand, using the other to find purchase on the counter and brace yourself for Trevor’s bucking hips.

He notices your stiffness and slips his hand back up to your boob, holding both in his hands and keeping you in place so that you don’t have to. “Sorry, baby, I’ll be quick,” Trevor murmurs with a kiss to the back of your neck. “I needed this.”

“Don’t apologize, Trev,” you say. “You feel good. Take what you need, sweet boy.” You press the button on the blender and the loud whirring fills the room, but you can feel the puffs of Trevor’s breath on your neck and his low moans next to your ear. 

He pinches your nipples beneath the sweatshirt and the feeling travels through your body to your pussy, squeezing Trevor tight. He swivels his hips against you, grinding deep before he draws back and starts to pound into you again. His forehead meets your spine. You can practically feel how close he is already, even though it’s only been a few minutes. He just needs a release after a long day and you’re more than willing to offer that to him.

You press your hips back and watch Trevor’s reaction in the glass of the blender. As he throws his head back and furrows his eyebrows, jaw dropping open, his hips drive into you in a slower, harder, more precise way. His body claps against yours and you turn off the blender just as Trevor comes, moaning out loud and flooding your cunt with his seed. 

You transfer the blended sauce into the pan on the stove and hit a few buttons, setting it on low heat as Trevor pulls his cock from your pussy and watches the cum drip from your hole. He pushes it back in with his fingers, then guides his softening cock to your entrance and fills you again. He stays behind you like that as the sauce simmers, playing with your boobs and kissing your neck as you dump the strained pasta into the sauce and mix them together. 

“That looks good,” Trevor mumbles. He kisses the space right behind your ear. “You’re so good to me.”

You giggle when his breath tickles the shell of your ear, shivering at the sensation. You turn the noodles over in the sauce. “It’s ‘cause I love you,” you tell him.

Trevor brings a hand to your clit, circling his fingers. “Gonna get you back after we eat,” Trevor says. “Make you come a couple of times.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply. You reach for the teatowel and hang it over your shoulder. “Now, clean me up and put this in the laundry after, will you?”

IV.

The next time Trevor needs you like that, you’re asleep in bed. He didn’t expect you to be up waiting for him. That’s a honeymoon phase thing– you guys have been dating for a while. You’ve gotten into fights. You’ve been living together for a while now. You both have seen the best and worst parts of each other over time, and you’ve gotten comfortable enough in this relationship that you and Trevor are both perfectly okay with your not waiting up for him after every game.

But after a long east coast roadie, Trevor has been missing you. You look so pretty in his big t-shirt. When he peels back the covers, Trevor sees that it has ridden up to show off your stomach. Like you’ve been expecting him, your legs are spread apart and, as always, you’re not wearing panties. 

Trevor smiles. You’re ready for him. 

He bends down and kisses your cheek, then moves slowly to the other. He slides into bed with you, having stripped down to his boxers already, and shifts between your legs. He rolls his hips down into your core, his clothed bulge gliding against your folds.

You stir, the hand resting next to your face on the pillow coming up to blearily wipe at your eyes. “Trevor?” you rasp, confused and sleepy. 

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry for waking you,” Trevor whispers. He purses his lips and brushes them against yours. 

“S’okay,” you reply. “How was the game tonight?”

“It was fine.” Trevor kisses down your neck and brings his fingers to your slit. “I missed you.”

He can feel your cheeks shifting as your lips widen into a smile. “You are such a horny guy,” you tease.

Trevor pushes a finger into your heat, feeling the slide grow easier with each thrust. “Can’t help it when my girl is so pretty,” he says. 

“Hmm,” you hum. “Be quick. Wanna cuddle.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist. 

Trevor leaves his lips in contact with your cheek as he pulls his finger from your body and fishes his cock out of his boxers, fucking into your pussy at an unhurried pace. You’re so warm and tight; Trevor hasn’t fucked you in days and he knows he won’t last an impressive amount of time. You told him to be quick anyway. Once his pelvis is flush with yours, Trevor breathes in deeply through his nose and kisses down the curve of your neck. He wraps his arms around your middle and splays his fingers across your lower back, lifting you slightly to provide a better angle for your pleasure… although he’s admittedly not aiming to get you off right now.

Trevor rocks forward in aborted movements. Your gummy inner walls hug his cock tightly, rubbing against the nerve endings along his shaft and tip in a way that has him panting in just minutes. 

Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, pushing into his hair. He feels like he can feel your nails scratching his scalp better now that he cut his hair shorter, even though that’s nonsensical. You sigh contentedly in his ear, chest rising and brushing his. “Fill me up, T,” you croon, pulling him even closer with the leg wrapped around his waist. “Know you want to. I’ll keep your cum inside all night and you can fuck me again in the morning. I’ll ride you, hm? How’s that?”

Trevor feels his cock throb, feels his balls grow tighter just before you clench down on him and he shoots off inside of you. Trevor feels like his brain turns to mush as he comes, his limbs loosening and lips smushing against your skin. He lays atop you when his cock is done twitching and leaking, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and soap and the natural smell that is so you. He could fall asleep right here.

You push at his shoulder and insist that he sleeps on his side of the bed rather than on top of you. 

Still, Trevor pulls you into his side and falls asleep with his nose against the crown of your head.

V.

You’ve been feeling especially feral today. You’re not sure why, but every time you look at Trevor, a lightning strike travels through your body and the energy settles riiight between your legs. 

He’s not even doing anything hot. You’re actually pretty sure you saw him biting his nails earlier and that itch on his nose might have been him digging for gold. You are not sure and you’d looked away so that you could give yourself the benefit of the doubt and convince yourself that, yes, he’d just been itching his nose. Nothing more than that. He’s not that gross. He might be a boy, but he’s not that gross. Surely.

Even if he is a gross, disgusting boy who bites his nails and might pick his nose when he thinks no one is looking… you’re absolutely feral for him today. 

Trevor is sitting on the couch watching TV. His legs are spread wide, creating a nice space just for you.

You’re sitting on the other end, torn between scrolling on your phone and staring at your boyfriend. You think you’re caught staring when Trevor’s hand shifts to his lap and covers his cock, the slight bulge of which you could see in his boxer-briefs. Your eyes widen, then your gaze flies to his face. 

And Trevor is just staring at the TV. He gives his cock an absentminded squeeze and moves his fingers over his length briefly, then stretches his arm out over the back of the couch.

You suddenly blink to yourself and draw your eyebrows together. Why the fuck are you still turned on by a man who just scratched his balls right in front of you?

You need to get this out of your system or else you’re going to be distracted for the rest of the day. So, for the first time, you approach your boyfriend and straddle his lap, planting yourself on his cock and grinding down. 

Trevor is delighted by this turn of events, you can tell by the silly smile on his face. His hands come to your sides and pinch your hips. “Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, his attention now on you rather than the screen.

“Take your cock out,” you command before tugging your shirt over your head and dropping it on the coffee table. “I want you to suck my tits while I fuck myself on it.”

Trevor’s eyes light up and he lifts his hips, shuffling his briefs down until his cock springs free. You can see it reacting to your presence and you wonder, very quickly, if he’s still itchy at all. You stamp the thought down and forget it as soon as it comes, rising up on your knees and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Since you’ve been turned on all day, your pussy has been ready to accept Trevor since the moment you clambered onto his lap. Once aligned, you sink down and take him. You move your hips in figure-eights, gyrating and finding the pleasure you enjoy. When you’re riding Trevor in an effort to make him come, you’ll bounce– but that’s never brought a climax to your body on its own. No, for you, it feels better when you rock your hips and roll your pelvis forward in a scooping motion, punctuated by a series of bounces here and there just to shake things up.

You close your eyes and lean your head back, facing the ceiling in a relaxed pose. You can feel yourself being consumed by the movement of Trevor’s cock inside of you and how it presses against sensitive spot after sensitive spot.

You’re sure if you look down right now, Trevor will be staring at you like he’s looking into the face of God. When you’d first talked about free use, he’d made it very clear that he didn’t want it to just be about him. He spoke at length about how if you wanted to use him, he’d be more than willing. In fact, over the time that you guys have been practicing this newfound kink, Trevor has had to remind you that he wants to be used. You’re finally doing it.

He fulfills your request shortly after you find your groove. His teeth encircle your nipple and tug, his hands wrapping around your back and pulling you closer like he just can’t get enough. He alternates between your breasts, licking and sucking until your nipples are wet, straining, and aching with pleasure. 

Your stomach thrums with excitement, clit swollen and making contact with Trevor’s abdomen when you swivel your hips just right. You repeat the motion over and over again until it’s just not enough, snaking a hand between your bodies so that you can rub your fingers over the bundle of nerves in rapid passes. You make a soft noise halfway between a whine and a squeal when the balloon of tension in your gut explodes and forces your eyes, closed as they are, to the back of your head. You swear that if your vision wasn’t black, you’d be able to see the back of your skull with how strong his orgasm is. 

Trevor moans against your tits, bucking up twice and spilling into your heat, adding to the mixture of warmth that is coursing through your body and making you feel like jelly. You sag against him and Trevor holds you tight, burying his face between your breasts and kissing your sternum. He stays there for only a moment before kissing a line up your neck to your lips. “Fuck, that was so sexy,” Trevor breathes out. “Let’s do it again.”

i need to write a dom trevor fic soon bc hot so we might see some free use in that too, these were all pretty soft so

[dragonpyre]

Literally saw a take where someone went "if you don't use AI for writing, how do you get your ideas?"

Spacing out in the shower like god intended. Next question

[therealmrrobinson]

THE DAY THE EARTH BLEW UP: A LOONEY TUNES MOVIE Movie Review

Let’s be honest, when it comes to movies, the Looney Tunes brand has not had a very good run this decade. In 2021 there was Space Jam: A New Legacy, which turned out to be nothing but a shameless commercial for all things Warner Bros., and then there was the infamous tale of the shelved Coyote vs. Acme movie that may never see the light of day. So it’s with all of these tragedies that it’s a miracle that this movie, The Day The Earth Blew Up, even got released. (Granted through Ketchup Entertainment and not WB. themselves.) Not only that, but it’s also incredible that the end result is undeniably the best Looney Tunes ever made.

THE GOOD

What separates this movie from something like the Space Jam sequel, is that it is made by people who clearly love Looney Tunes. Despite the fact that we only have three characters, this movie stays true to who they are. Daffy Duck is more reflective of how his was when he was first introduced and before he started being paired up with Bugs Bunny. He’s a complete lunatic, he’s overly confident, and has a tendency to cause more trouble than what they have to deal with in the moment! Meanwhile, Porky Pig is the more sensible of the two, complete with his famous stutter. Eric Bauza does a fantastic job voicing both characters and much like Mel Blanc long before, it’s incredible how many of the Looney Tunes characters he’s able to voice to perfection. Petunia Pig is also a fun character. She manages to be the most sensible of the group, while also being crazy and…dare I say looney in her own way!

The animation is spectacular. It’s great to not only see classic 2D animation, but also 2D animation that was made for a big screen experience. The last two animated movies that I can think of that look like they were hand drawn are The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim or Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. In both instances, you watch those movies and question the reason to release them in theaters. The animation in The Day The Earth Blew Up is not only smooth and well detailed, but it also amplifies the insanity and comedy. One of my favorite gags is with Farmer Jim, the adopted father of both Daffy and Porky. While our two main characters are fully animated, Farmer Jim is mostly a static drawing played for full comic effect.

The movie is not just hilarious in how it captures the spirit of Looney Tunes, but also how it works as a parody of the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. From mind control, alien goo, 50s style flying saucers, and the title of the film itself, this movie is a perfect homage to those old school science fiction movies. However it’s mixed with that very chaotic tone that you expect from Looney Tunes and features enough twists that make the movie feel fresh and funny! The big masterplan of the alien invader is ridiculous but makes sense within the nature of the film!

OVERALL

This is about as good as a Looney Tunes movie can get and the flaws it has, aren't worth mentioning! I never got the appeal of Space Jam, and this is coming from a kid of the 90s. That movie should’ve been my childhood, but it just doesn’t work for me. As for Looney Tunes: Back in Action, I have a soft spot for that movie, but even then I can’t deny that The Day The Earth Blew Up blows that one out of the water. It’s got spectacular animation, it’s fateful to the source material, the characters are fun, and it’s jam-packed with jokes that made me laugh hard! Not to mention it has a lot of heart when it comes to Daffy and Porky’s friendship. It’s a reminder of what made Looney Tunes work in the first place and why they will endure until the end of time despite David Zaslav’s hatred for them!

RATING

GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO SEE IT NOW!!!

[thesunniestgoose]

YEEEE DUCKIE LETS GOOOOO

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Scope of our Existence

Alien: *Goes for walk through park*

Alien: *Sees human friend sitting on bench near pond feeding strange animals with crumbs and goes over to them*

Alien: Greetings friend Jim.

Jim: *Turns head* Oh, hi Gilmek.

Alien: What are you doing?

Human: *Turns back to feeding animals* Pondering existence and my place in it.

Gilmek: *Confused* Is this a human joke?

Jim: No, I am being perfectly honest.

Gilmek: *Stares at animals, then back at Jim*

Gilmek: If that is true then why do you feed these creatures?

Jim: They’re called “Ducks”.

Gilmek: Why then do you feed these ducks if you are pondering such philosophical matters?

Jim: *Shrugs* It helps me put things into perspective for myself.

Gilmek: *Sits next to Jim* How so?

Jim: *Throws oats and watches ducks eat them up.*

Jim: What do you think of these birds?

Gilmek: *Watches ducks eat the oats* They seem primitive in nature, yet beautiful to look at.

Jim: They have been around far longer than the human species as a whole and predate many other species on our world.

Gilmek: And?

Jim: And they have largely remained the same for the last few thousand years compared to humanity.

Gilmek: I guess.

Gilmek: Different species progress along different points of development and evolution; yet your species has far outpaced their development so why compare to them?

Jim: Because if you take a human from three thousand years ago and drop them in today’s society, or handle it the other way around and drop someone from today three thousand years in the past; chances are high that they would not be able to survive.

Jim: But ducks?

Jim: You could drop a duck from today’s age five thousand years in the past and it would feel as at home as it does right now.

Jim: *Looks at Gilmek* How can we possibly compare to that?

Gilmek: *Opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself as he ponders the statement*

Jim: *Tosses more oats* “How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks…”

Gilmek: Did you make that?

Jim: *Shakes head*I’m not nearly as poetic.

Jim: A human author named Dorothy L. Sayers wrote that one.

Gilmek: They must be popular in this time for you to remember it.

Jim: They wrote it four thousand years ago in year of 1935 on my world.

Gilmek: *Looks at ducks again*

Gilmek: You humans have a somewhat disturbing and intriguing relation with your planets animals.

Jim: *Chuckles* You should see what we do with our cats?

Gilmek: Cats?

Jim: Furry creatures about yay high *holds hand below knee* and covered in fur.

Gilmek: How do you treat them?

Jim: We dedicated a few gods around them at one point.

Gilmek: ………

Jim: Come to think of it they may have never gotten over that with how they still treat us in return for our love.

[zylev-blog]

HONK! CRASH!

Danny woke up with a jerk. He laid in bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling and listening to the chaos downstairs. He could hear something running around the house honking, his dad yelling, and the sound of a gun going off. He didn’t have enough sleep to deal with this. All he had wanted was to sleep before school, but was that ever going to happen? No! Why was it always him that had to deal with everything?

“GRAB IT MADDIE, IT’S GETTING AWAY!” Dad yelled.

“I KNOW, JACK!” Mom yelled, shooting her gun again.

CRASH!

Danny rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, tossing the covers off of him and putting his feet onto the floor. Just as he was about to get up, he heard thumping coming up the stairs. Great! Now he would get in trouble if he didn’t try to head off whatever was running around their house. He ran over to his bedroom door and yanked it open, running down the hall until he was face to face with a black duck. It wasn’t even a ghost! The duck had a patch of blue around its eyes that looked like a mask, and blue markings down the side of it. In his confusion, the duck slipped between his legs and kept running down the hall.

Jazz screamed from somewhere downstairs. “There’s another one!”

“IVE GOT IT!” Dad yelled.

Cursing, he ran after the duck just as his Mom ran up the stairs. He grabbed the duck off of the ground, ignoring it as it hissed at him and tried to bite him.

“What the fuck?” He asked Mom.

“Language, sweetie.” Maddie said while she aimed the gun at the duck in Danny’s hands.

“What’s going on?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the duck squealing.

CRASH!

They both ignored the sounds coming from downstairs. Danny decided it wasn’t his immediate problem, so he said nothing on what sounded like Dad plowing through a wall at top speed while running.

“We thought these ducks were ghosts at first, but they’re not. We don’t know where they came from.” Maddie took a step towards him, a frown on her face. “They came out of the portal.”

The duck was still trying to bite him. It couldn’t even break the skin of his hand, so he didn’t try to fight it.

“Weird looking duck.” He commented. “Ducks aren’t blue.”

The duck squawked loudly in protest.

“GOT IT!” Jack yelled from downstairs.

“Can we like… throw it back in the portal?” He asked.

“It could come back in. We don’t know where in the portal it came from.” Mom said, lowering the gun now that the duck had stopped trying to escape.

“You think another dimension?” He asked as they walked downstairs.

“Perhaps. For now we’ll put them in the holding pod and figure out what to do next.” Mom led him down to the lab.

When they got down there, he added the duck in his hands to the cell that housed the other duck. The other duck was differently colored from the first. It was black, with green feet, a green mask around its eyes, and red markings along its body. The duck seemed to be howling bloody murder.

“This one put up a fight!” Dad said proudly. “Too bad it’s not a ghost.”

“Great. I can go back to sleep now, right?” He asked tiredly.

“You sure you don’t want to help with the interdimensional search? You’ve always been the best at this.” Mom offered.

“No thanks.” He declined, yawning. “But if they’re still here when I wake up then I’ll help.”

“Okay. Good night, sweetie.” Mom kissed his forehead.

“Night mom, Night dad.” He waved as he walked back upstairs.

As soon as he got back upstairs, he found Clockwork sitting on his bed. He screamed in frustration.

[aduckwithears]

A few more people have found this blog so here's a pinned post with links to my metas, little things/gif series, art etc and the nuts and bolts of stuff here in case you want that:

I'm a rabid reblogger of most everything Good Omens from meta to shitposts to fan art to fic to edits. Some of it ends up in a queue but mostly it's a firehose. Show, book, all are welcome here. I've been in this fandom one way or another a loooong time (yep, tumblr elder here) and can quite comfortably hold multiple and sometimes opposing characterizations and theories in my head at one time. I do try to tag but I'm gonna be honest it's less about organization and more about using the tags to chat and snark and get emotional b/c it makes me happy. That being said, #good omens s2 is my current season tag but i'm not marking spoilers anymore.

I use #fan art and #good omens meta and #good omens theories and #good omens speculation. My own stuff I tag with

#a duck talks

#a duck gifs

#a duck draws - Good Omens fan art

#a duck writes

I love wordy additions to posts, and if you yell in the tags we are family. Oh, might be NSFW stuff but not usually. PS I don't love angst but I guess I do now? Thanks season 2!

And... since there's a few out there now, some links to my metas and things.

Little fic of a conversation in Job's cellar

Credits split-screen colors

Let's Talk Laudanum

Little things to love about gos2 series

GOs1/GOs2 Parallels in gifs

A comforting thought

The bookshop as Eden and 2 different Apples

Crowley's 1827 outfit

The scent of bitter almonds (an alternate coffee theory NOT having to do with mind control)

Road Trip fic prompt

Aziraphale's Fairy Tale

The Duality of Jane Austen

aaaand... my post freaking out about s1 that broke containment a bit

[meidailies]

there are some things a cruise can't solve

this was a commission for @ezmiho of a scene from a fic by @tomb-bloom-noctem 💙 thank you very much!

[mournfulroses]

Henrik Ibsen, from a play titled "The Wild Duck," featured in Six Plays by Henrik Ibsen

[brotherly-lov3]

Some self-indulgent evil Huey cause why not

[pikawings]

I present the duck candle art for a wip (character ref If You Give A Bat A Burger)

Step 1: place duck in a bowl of water

Step 2: allow for ambient ecto to be absorbed into the duck

Step 3: when the duck is fully saturated, murder burn it

Final product: ecto infused water, great for adding into soups or drinks for extra energy or used as the base for ectodejecto and other medical needs

(For the wip ’Doctor Duck’, name also a wip. I got some notes, but it's not good enough to start writing)

For an AU where GK Danny works for Penguin because he is the only one with a family plan. He’s the on-site medic for big missions, a bouncer in the Lounge and animal caretaker mostly for fun. He learned most of hisnmedic stuff from Frostbite and Victor Fries whom he is friends with. Jazz is in a coma after she got severely injured when rescuing Danny from the lab. She can't go to the GZ bc it would kill her and Frostbite doesn't know human medicine enough to be of help. Penguin pays for her private hospital room that Danny has decked out with ducks of various use. The ducks are red because of Blood Blossom extract which attracts ecto rather than repell it.

(Ik it sounds like I got a plan for this but it's too wonky and I don't have everything planned out yet so it's locked in the basement for now)

[inbarfink]

So let’s go through this one-by-one, shall we?

Red Guy

Flat affect in voice, not very expressive 

Or from the perspective of other Red Guy, he is far too expressive and tend to smile at inappropriate situations

Express emotions either ‘too little’ or ‘too much’ in terms of volume, very little in-between

Speaks very bluntly 

Feels physically uncomfortable with bright colors

"Well, this isn't that fun, is it? can't make out where I am in the room like this. What if I'm standing in an embarrassing area?" "I actually don't mind it. Kind of a nice break from all of those... garish colors"

Duck

Loves cataloging and organizing things as a recreational activity

Anthropomorphise inanimate objects (like ACTUALLY inanimate, not teachers)

"You have to jab it hard or it won't respect your choices!"

Has a hard time fitting in in ‘normative’ social groups

Odd sensory sensitivities

"You're supposed to say that the floor is too loud or the window is disrespecting you"

Yellow Guy

Relies on a heavy amount of social mimicry in unfamiliar social situations

"I'm making bits and parts, although sometimes I feel a bit like the bits and parts are, eh, making me."

Tends to understand metaphors and turns of phrases very literally

Which is actually a trait that he displays even in his hyper-intelligent ‘Charged’ mode

"Oh there he is, it's about time." "Yeah, what have you been doing?" "Um, okay, let me see... We were learning about electricity... I completed a crossword puzzle..."

Who is also very sensitive to sounds when two or more people are speaking at once

He also seems to have ‘clumsy’ motor functions in both ‘forms’

In conclusion: