#babbling hours

[lemonlilactea]

Everyone say thank u to my discord friend who inspires not only more of the emmrook fic but also angst concepts like

What if Rook was in the Fade prison for years from their perspective, weeks from the team perspective?

What if they spend long enough in there their hair grows and their skin begins to sallow and they don't quite starve, but their body is aware it is missing something

Bonus if Emmrich romance, and they have YEARS to ruminate on the things they said to him before becoming trapped

Anyway maybe I'll. Write it

[homerforsure]

TL;DR: it's not my ship, but they were done dirty

I always always always come back to that weird little reveal that when they were first floating the idea to bring Tommy back, they said it was to do a storyline with Eddie and it got switched to Buck because it was too weird or tricky to have them both break up with their LIs offscreen but only one actress could come back.

Because a stepping stone relationship makes perfect sense for Eddie. Something short and intense with angst and softness for him to get to this moment of letting himself feel joy and to taste how truly good it can be. He didn't need an endgame relationship right now. He did need to have his "first."

Buck didn't need that. Buck is absolutely ready for his forever and he has been for a while and giving him the "inviting Natalia to move in and then catching his own bad habit for once and backing out" would have been great.

But that didn't happen. Instead Eddie had to sit like a hot dog on one of those rolling warmers for a season while Buck started the queer dominos falling (and I admit this is a little bit from a Buddie endgame perspective because it doesn't feel to me like the show was deciding to explore the a character's sexuality just for exploratory purposes and I'm willing to admit I have a blind spot here.)

And honestly I think the fact that Oliver cares so much about Buck and telling this story well both for the character and everyone who sees himself in him and that Lou met that energy turned the storyline and the relationship into a more beautiful beginning than it would have been in the hands of other actors.

Which gave the show it's next problem. Because we can all see that Buck is ready for his forever love and you introduced a new love interest and then instead of sticking to a few episodes of awakening and moving on, I think they saw that people were starving for it and latched onto it and Tommy harder than they expected. So it's an easy thing to do to milk that for a little bit longer, but it was absolutely the wrong choice because people got invested in a way they wouldn't have if this had ended after the original number of episodes we expected.

And Buck and Tommy worked! I think you can nitpick relationship things if you weren't that into it and write a breakup narrative using those seeds, but their puzzle pieces absolutely fit together. So much so that they definitely had forever after potential that everyone could see and a lot of people were excited about and investing in and oops wait that wasn't the plan.

So what do you do? You either abandon the plan and embrace the accidental beauty that you discovered and let it ride or you write your way out of it. Give them some hurdles, some angst. Give them a tear-jerking breakup that respects what you built and the viewers who are invested in it and slowly work your way back to where you wanted to be.

They didn't write their way out of it.

And I so don't want to believe that after the work the actors put in and the viewer feedback that they were still viewing the relationship as a placeholder ready to be yeeted once Eddie's arc got back in position again, but I'm not sure what the alternatives are?

Either it's being talked about that this is the last season and so if they're really doing buddie then it's now or never? Or actually the internet is not a valid reflection of the viewership as a whole and someone from on high said the plug should be pulled?

Or the storyline was stumbled into and fumbled around from the beginning and never treated with as much care by the people in charge of it as it was by the people who loved it.

IDK it's just messy messy storytelling and I say that as someone who is not a multishipper but who does value a good story and a good narrative. They let the relationship go on for too long to end it so abruptly. If there was going to be a breakup, there was a better one to be had and it doesn't make me feel good that my preferred happy ending could come from one that breaks the heart of so many of my friends. And if it isn't in the service of a bigger, already in motion endgame, literally what the fuck?

[jagalart]

Hue 16

[sroloc--elbisivni]

there are some headcanons where it's like. 'i would enjoy this as a light seasoning in fic but certain chunks of the fandom have become more committed to this than the actual canon and made it load-bearing in scenarios where it simply doesn't make sense'.

[yeonzzzn]

been hella thinking about jay buying you a necklace with his initials on it, using it as a way to mark you as his and ONLY his.

like he’d secretly run off and buy it for you. keeping it hidden in the drawer of the night stand on his side of the bed, waiting until he’s balls deep in your pussy. his back is resting against the headboard while your in his lap, back against his chest. his strong arms are wrapped around your waist as he fucks up into you as your fingers are tangled in his hair moaning his name loud enough that the neighbors won’t forget it anytime soon.

jay would wait until he’s close to cumming, already making you cum twice and moving you closer to your third before letting on arm fall from your waist to reach into the draw and pull the silver chain out. he would be biting and licking your ear, whispering how much he loves you and your pussy, wanting to mark you in every way possible to show everyone that you’re not to be touched. you’re HIS. nobody else’s.

jay would place the chain against your neck and clasping it together at the back, still moving slowly in and out of your cunt to make the moment more loving and sensual. his fingers would trace down the chain, stopping and tracing out the letter J that now sat just above your breasts, “see baby? my initial is around your neck, everyone will know who you fucking belong to.” his words sends chills down your body as his fingers trace down your breasts, over your sensitive nipples, down your stomach and then quickly wrapping his arms back around your waist to fuck into like his life depended on it.

“You’re MINE, you understand me?” he breathes, panting out each word as his cock twitches and releases his hot cum into your cunt, “mine mine mine.”

[y-rhywbeth2]

One of my favourite things about Durge is how complicated their relationship to 'their' body can be. Their blood is always referred to as Bhaal's blood. Any children they carry are his; their 'seed' and the children born from that is always referred to as his. Their flesh is his 'flesh.'

And it doesn't truly obey them, their autonomy is something between a privilage and a 'necessary evil' from Bhaal's perspective because some of that mortal free will is needed for them to be a useful pawn (godly non-interference politics and all). At any moment they could lose control of it as it ruins them again and again and again...

The body Bhaal is loaning them is a 'rotten skull' atop an 'unlovable carcass,' and it violates them. I just find myself thinking that if I were Durge and I'd been freed from Bhaal my first though to being told the life and body are 'mine' now would be I don't want it. I can't think of it as mine, I don't want to think of it as mine, I want it away from me. What did you think the point of dying was??

[kindred-spirit-93]

thetis and her grandbaby

the second panel originally was going to read "hes mine now" lol.

achilles probably jumped in after his mother (who went to show off to her friends), forgetting that neo is very cant breathe under water XD

look at his tiny lil hand holding onto her robes dfghjk. held my baby cousin last night and shes so light and squishy ahh. very babbly too :')

[babypuppiboi]

Thinking about being owned, someone to set rules and enforce them for me, setting up a strict edging schedule to keep me desperate to please, never given release unless it’s for their amusement

Thinking about sudden unexpected inspections, having my pants ripped off and fingers stuffed inside my puppycunt, my mouth getting fingerfucked because good puppies get all of their holes used

thinking about randomly being told commands like a puppy, because that’s what I am now that’s what they made me into

And I wouldn’t have it any other way

[serendippertyy]

MY OFFICIAL DESIGN HCS 🪰🪰

[enden-k]

me: overthinking and anxious im getting fired bc i asked for my disrupted leave

me: actually abt to get promoted to manager

[mushtoons]

people at work are testing me

[lemonlilactea]

Aaah emmrich/Rook wip

NSFW and unfinished and I'm bad at this

It's late, as far as he can tell. It's always hard to tell in the Lighthouse, but it seems most of the team is nestled away in their rooms, a soft quiet laying over the air. Emmrich left Lucanis in the kitchen, nursing his 3rd cup of coffee, to retire to his own room, noting that even Rook appeared to be resting as well. He was glad of it, knowing their leader often neglects their own care for the sake of the greater good, and they even brush it off when it's mentioned. With a sigh, he feels a wave of fondness for them, stubborn and strong as they are. 

His own room is warm, bright flames licking the stone, his books and trinkets filling the space. He even added a larger, comfier chair beside the little table holding his gift from Rook, that lovely statue they bought him. The chair is fit for two, if one is on the other's lap, at least, and they both quite enjoy spending time reading books curled into each other. Lately, of course, time is less and less available to them, and he sighs to himself, regretful. A blossoming romance, one to rival any garden, a fragrance of adoration lingering in his mind when they leave the room. Their skin, softer than any petals, and their eyes brighter than any bloom. Everything about them, Emmrich takes in wholly, and often. He's caught himself staring, likely looking a besotted fool, dreamy and far off as he gazes at their features in moonlight, or crackling flame.

As he moves toward the statue gift, his fingers trailing the details of the carved stone, a noise catches his attention. Quiet and muffled, it sounds like it comes from Rooks's room, through the cracks of the wall. Emmrich, ever naturally curious, takes the few steps to lean his ear toward the widest gap in the cold stone of the wall. It's quiet for a moment, and he thinks he may have imagined it, but there, again- a gasp, stuttered breathing. Sounds of motion and the familiar effort of staying quiet reach his ears, the effect of a hand muffling a moan one he knows well. Heat tears through him, and he has to brace a hand on the wall at the unexpected strength of sudden arousal. 

Rook is moaning, in their room. He'd have to be an idiot not to put the pieces together, they're obviously masturbating, he can hear another moan barely creep into his hearing. His own breathing has already quickened, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat.

He should step away, stop listening in. They would want privacy, they wouldn't want someone, him, listening in, would they? But he can't make himself do it. His hands clenched into fists against the wall, his head turned to keep an ear near the crack, feeling a chill breeze pass his skin, seeping into his Rooks's room. If only he could follow, simply ease through the gaps and caress their skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His lips, leaving a trail of kisses and marks, possessive and tender and- 

Before he can either stop himself or shake out of his reverie, something beyond a simple groan creeps through the crack. A word? Not quite, he thinks, straining to listen, no shred of shame for the way he's pressed against the wall, listening to his darling moan into empty air. 

‘Emmrich..’

His eyes widen, his jaw drops and he feels another searing round of heat clench his gut. They're calling his name, touching themself. They're thinking of him, just as he thinks of them in those nights where he'd rut into his fist, biting a pillow to muffle his own cries of their name. He almost has to gasp for air, the realization of the fact they want him just as badly as he needs them. 

Without thought, one of his hands falls from the wall to squeeze his length through the fabric of his trousers, the material a little strained by his growing interest. Emmrich has to actively remind himself to keep quiet, to keep his reactions to the unknown show to a soft whimper. He wishes he could see through the little gap in the wall, wishes he knew how they touched themself. If they'd let him touch like that. His hands, adorned in gold, trailing down the curve of their side, gripping the flesh of their thigh or gripping hard enough to bruise. The way he would revere them, every movement a ritual of adoration, a piece of proof of his devotion to them, to his Rook, his dearest.

Another moan from their room, louder now, as if they're losing the presence of mind to quiet themselves. His hips press into his hand, into the wall, and he leans his forehead to the cool stone to try and regain some kind of composure. It would be more possible if he couldn't hear the gasping breaths from Rook in the other room, the mental image of their lips parted and their eyes half lidded making him clench his jaw. They'd look lovely with a flush across their cheeks, and their chest, for that matter. A stunning, unique specimen, a prime example of everything he could possibly want, everything he craves. In truth, he's had to keep himself from distraction anytime they've shown any kind of skin, and it makes him feel all the more desperate for them. 

And gods, what would their touch be like? Would they want him to lead, or would they? Rook, their strong hands running through his hair, gripping his shoulders, trailing across the expanse of his constantly covered form. Their fingers, tracing teasingly along his waistband, under his shirt, across his chest…

He takes a shaky inhale, face half pressed into the stone as his hips roll into his own grip once more. A brief, quiet sound of his own tumbles from his lips like a drop of rain, hardly noticeable in the torrent of sensation that his body is providing. What he wouldn't give to tear this wall down, break the barrier between them so that he might show Rook in every feasible manner how much he wants. 

He can't help but let his hand begin to move against his length, pressing into the fabric roughly as his mind continues to paint a picture of lust, each movement a brushstroke in his mind, the image of his Rook laid below him, their chest heaving with breath. He can picture it, their hair below them like a halo, their fingers entwined with his. In his mind's eye, his teeth graze their neck just as a real gasp slips through the wall again, as if they can feel his imagined motions.

A stuttered breath of his own makes him lean into the wall and pause, needing to recenter and think. Is this a terrible idea, getting himself off at the whimpers and groans through a crack in the stone? Would he be able to look at them after without the echo of their pleasure in his mind? And, oh, what would they think if they saw him like this? Desperate, pathetic little whines into the stone, his body pressing itself forward to find any kind of pressure, anything more. Would they stare, their eyes raking over his form, watching his attempts to be quiet while his hand shoves into the fabric, the metal of his rings meeting hot flesh with yet another noise he tries to muffle. 

He has to turn, his back meeting the wall, head leaned back, his teeth biting into the gloved hand covering his own mouth. He wants to be quiet, not to be unheard but so he can strain to listen to the next gasp from Rook’s room. How he wished he could be there, even just watching them as their hands trace along their own skin, deft fingers finding pleasure where they so wish. Those fingers on him, what they might do…Their verbal teasing translating to how they touch him, never quite where he’d want. Emmrich feels his back arch from the wall and his grip tighten around his length, his next breathy gasp matching the one next door. Between moments, he can hear their voice again, a soft plea. ‘Emmrich, please, fuck…’ And if that doesn’t make his jaw drop, along with his gut, stalling his movements lest he finish far sooner than he’d like to admit. In his hazy mind he almost laughs, Rook once again making him feel far younger than his years in so many ways. Instead he inhales a breath that catches in his throat, eyelids fluttering as his hand starts to resume the slow glide up and down, the metal rings adding a tantalizing sensation to the motion. 

He feels near insane, his body in control and his head addled with lust, with need. An inferno under his skin, crawling through his veins, a fire started by Rook, and one that could only ever be quenched by them. 

[homerforsure]

Update: I’m feeling really good with minimal side effects and I’ve been doing some things that have felt impossible for long time (Moved suitcase from the living room to the basement! Moved bike rack out of back seat to the basement! Paired socks! Chopped onion!)

And I’m partly trying not to be too excited because maybe it’s a fluke or temporary or whatever but I’m also like. Just profoundly sad. That it could have been this easy and I felt so shitty for so long. What could I have done with all those months I spent in bed?

It’s not worth hating myself for, but I think I probably will be grieving it for a little while.

[thesungod]

there are things i don’t fw in the fire and blood adaptation but god i want to kiss the writer who decided to make Helaena Targaryen like that™️. from standard tragic fantasy mother to neurodivergent prophetess who’s a pretty princess obsessed with gross insects forced to marry her brother who loves her like a sister but doesn’t get her. her doomed by the narrative slay. her cassandra-esque appeal. her martyrdom. crazy

[bonefall]

i found a god awful doc about this one person (who, too, is a god awful being) trying to reason why mudClaw would be a bad leader. I'ma try to find the doc but meanwhile I'll submit this because someone could have the link, I'll need your honest thought about it bcs why are we defending oneWhiker now

Anon, buddy, I'm gonna have to sit you down and gently discourage you from casually calling random human people "god awful beings" in my inbox like this. Not when you're just talking about relatively basic media analysis. That isn't ok or normal.

I hope that when I speak harshly, it's coming from a place of condemning hurtful actions and the tangible harm that they cause. I don't appreciate people trying to get me to directly beef with other people directly by requesting I break down their individual posts or analysis documents (when I ask for people to share links, it's so I can see and prepare to counter the ideas because they usually "float downstream" if they get popular); but in a second ask, you linked this document and there's nothing harmful in it. In fact, it's got a far more neutral tone than I'd take if I was writing an analysis about Mudclaw.

If you couldn't tell the difference between a document like this and one that contains active abuse apologia rhetoric, I would be filled with concern. But I don't think you read it. I think you maybe skimmed it and stopped reading, or just heard the title.

Because this document literally says this;

and your takeaway, something you felt so strongly about that you came to me hoping I'd validate it, was "Why Are We Defending Onewhisker Now."

Art is a tool we can use to explore our own biases, and teach us something about ourselves. That overwhelming sense of anger and disgust that you probably felt when you saw "Mudclaw Would Be A Bad Leader" made you jump to an emotional conclusion and you assumed something that was not said. I know the feeling. You might have had a reactionary impulse.

You are not a bad person for doing that-- you're human. You can grow.

Why did it upset you this much, though? Is there something very personal about this that set you off? ...are you spending a lot of time in spaces online that keep you angry? These are questions for you to reflect with.

I do not know the owner of this document or "what they've done," if anything, so I will not link it, because their Discord is at the bottom of the doc. If they are truly a "god awful being", please do not engage, just block and move on. Nothing is accomplished by following around 'A Bad Guy' and boosting their cat takes.

But something VERY bad WOULD be accomplished if I indulged an anon for a situation I know nothing about and unwittingly became part of a harassment campaign. How do I know that you've got good intentions?

I usually just delete unsolicited links to docs and videos that are 'fightbaiting' like this-- trying to get me to beef publicly with a 3rd person. But I've seen more of these than usual lately so I would like to try and cool it down.

[yeonzzzn]

okay but why is the middle photo so ghostface!jake coded??? like imagine our jakeyn is arguing over jake not being careful after a night out of committing crimes and you’re throwing it at him how he could literally be caught at any moment and jake is just smirking his evil grin and laughing and you just go:

“have you ever been handcuffed?”

jake’s grin would grow even wider as he pushes you down onto your shared bed, spreading your legs with his knees and settling in between them, rocking his clothed hard length against your heat and responds:

“like sexually or by law enforcement? because i am so down for you to handcuff me baby.”

good GOD all I did was go to pinterest to look up something for a request and found that quote and now i’m shaking