#sorry for the shitty cropping on the first one

[jujubamp4]

is it dandadover for me?

[lemongogo]

anyways . silly thing

[starrynightsforever]

I am Thinking

It’s All About ME, Not You -Greer Lankton (quoting Patti Smith), 1996// “Sun Bleached Flies” -Ethel Cain, 2022

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: dubcon-ish due to suggestiveness and alcohol, yandere, breakup, depression, schemes, manipulation, office au for some reason

part two in Gojo's pov

fem reader

It’s been two weeks since your breakup—since you got dumped on your sorry ass.

You wished you could say you were fine, wish you could say fuck that guy, anyway, good fucking riddance—that you’d make him regret it, that he didn’t know what he lost, that he’d come crawling back begging your forgiveness soon enough. You really wish you were that girl—the one who gets up and dusts off and gets back out there with her head still held high. You really do.

But no, you’re one of those girls who feel silly getting dressed—worried that you’re trying too hard. Fuck, it’s hopeless. You feel like shit, and you look like shit, and you don’t even want to go out anyway—it’s just some shitty office party at some shitty little bar where everyone’s going to make your breakup their business. It would be best not to go—leave them to talk shit about it behind your back. 

Sure, you could slap on your best tough act and tell them all to go fuck themselves, but why bother? You’re just going to drink too much and end up doing something you regret.

And oh, how right you were.

It’s not even been a good few hours before you’ve got the office slut’s tongue down your throat—all but clinging to him as you press your body up against his. Manicured hands tussled in his pretty white locks, pulling on him while sucking each other’s faces, leeching off the feeling of his hands grabbing your waist—oh god, it feels good to be wanted again.

Yes—yes, this is what you need. Fuck your ex-boyfriend, he’s probably out fucking some skank himself. Well, two can play that game. He’ll see. You’ll make him see. That fucking asshole—

Oh no.

“Wait—stop,” you break off the desperate kissing. 

Hanging your head while steadying your breath, you push both hands flat on his hard chest, keeping him distanced even as he leans after your lips. 

You swallow thickly, then wipe your mouth, taking a step back. “The fuck am I doing…”

You don’t dare look back up at him. Beyond embarrassed, you just want to get out of there as quickly as your feet can carry you—catch the first cab home and forget all about it. Pretend it never happened. 

“Sorry, ‘m gonna go,” you mumble as you start walking away, leaving your confused colleague behind, alone outside the bathroom stalls, still recovering.

You make your way down the hallway with dim neon lights flickering overhead, feeling swallowed up by the graffiti-littered walls.

What a sorry place for mistakes.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I was about to be one of those girls.” You shudder as you wrap yourself in your own hug, feeling silly for wearing a cropped jacket—and why the fuck is your dress so short? You’re not a fucking teenager anymore. “Fucking hell… I’m such a mess.”

“No, wait.” A tug of your jacket holds you in place. Oh, but you really don’t want to look at him. It’s humiliating enough already that you’d sought him out for validation—you don’t need his pity as well. It’s Gojo, for fuck’s sake. A different girl brings him lunch about every day—the whole office knows.

You might just die from the toll of it.

“Com’on. I’m perfect for this, aren’t I?” he asks under his breath while maneuvering you up against the wall again, his dewy breath brushing your scalp as he peers down at you in wait for your answer.

“What are you on about?” You veer away. You should be in a cab already. Better yet, you should have never gone out in the first place. What was your goal here anyway? To not wallow in your own worthlessness? And you really thought seeking Gojo’s seal of approval would make you feel any better about yourself? The office hottie and the century’s ultimate fuckboy?

Fuck, it’s so wrong on so many levels, you feel disgusted with yourself.

“We’re both drunk,” he states, but you don’t really want to hear it—head too filled with your own bullshit to heed any of his. You swear, if he tries any one of his sleazy pick-up lines on you, you’re gonna knee him right in the balls. It would be nice to get fired now anyway—you’d take it as a blessing.

What he says instead is unexpected—brutally and grossly honest, “You need a rebound, right? And I wanna fuck.”

Your thoughts stop shaming you as you look back at him, returning his gaze with an awaiting silence, allowing him to go on.

“So let’s use each other and blame it on the drink.”

It sounds like the lyrics of an angsty heartache song they might have played back inside the bar—the muted thuds seeping in through the walls makes it all but true. And still, there’s something oddly enticing about it, even as it makes you cringe.

“No hard feelings. No strings,” he continues, a small grin playing in the corner of his lips. “Just a good ol’ tit for tat.”

He almost sells it. But you’re just one too many bad nights too tired to buy.

“Don’t be dumb—” you dismiss and try nudging him away again—only, he doesn’t let up.

“C’mon—you’re angry, aren’t you?” he poses with a quirked brow. “What better way to stick it to him than fucking the hottest guy around?”

It stunts you. Suppose that had been exactly your objectives tonight, unknowingly and much to your shame. At least you can find some mediocre solace in your next confession, for as it turns out, “I’m not that kinda girl.”

It’s a depressing outcome. Made even shittier by how you sort of wish you were—that kind of girl. The type who doesn’t let anything get to her, who moves on and doesn’t think twice about it—who fucks the hot guy in front of her and wakes up feeling empowered the next morning. If only you weren’t such a tragic fucking loser…

“Be her for a night?” he suggests, still not having given up. He cups your chin and brushes a thumb over your lips. It’s really intimate, makes you feel pinned beneath that look in his eyes—as if the sky was coming down upon you. His words are low, brushing your face with heat as he says them, “I promise, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all about him.”

Goddamn it—there it is, the fucking pick-up line. Now, it doesn’t really make your knees weak or anything, but you’re sorry to say you can’t deny it’s tempting, either. 

Besides, you really didn’t want to go home and spend the night crying yourself to sleep—again, now paired with regrets about this night on top of it all.

You look at him through the thicket of your mascara, into those big blue puppy-dog eyes looking at you in something so strange such as earnest. Oh God, he really wants to do this for you, doesn’t he? He could go find himself any other girl—everyone had been eyeing him earlier—it’s not too late for him to simply go pick any one of them up. 

Is this his way of being considerate—being a good colleague by offering you a fuck? Ugh… that makes you feel so fucking pathetic. But then again… why does it really matter? You couldn’t really stoop any lower at this point—might as well have some fun while at it, right?

You were out of ice cream anyway…

“C’mon,” he drawls, eyes growing heavier as he leans further in—once again, only a tiny inch separating you. So close you taste his breath and feel his voice on your lips. “Don’t make me beg.” 

You don’t. No, you end up saying not another word. Too busy drowning your sorrows, getting drunk while kissing him breathless.

And oh, you and your bittersweet heartbreak taste so good on his tongue—coercing your boyfriend into dumping you was the greatest ploy for your heart he could ever do.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[cute-sucker]

can we see pogue!rafe telling reader one day they're gonna make it and be much more comfortable and then she can have everything she wants IM SORRY pogue rafe makes me angsty

note: this is pup and pogue!rafe all the way. inspiration from pogue!rafe goes to @.princessbrunette

you're very low maintance overall, wearing dirty scuffed shorts, and a wife beater that you stole from rafe. sometimes rafe has to grab you to tell you how dirty you look, smelling of grass with marks of dirt on your jorts.

he gets more annoyed when you continue to wear his clothes. a white unbuttoned shirt with a cropped tee, and while rafe will raise an eyebrow then and then again telling you that you're gonna get cold, you can see the feigned annoyance that flickers in his eyes time and time again. but he doesn't get too annoyed with you, somehow kinder, and sweeter with you than anyone he knew.

sometimes people were surprised, the way that he would cower for you. one time you had come home with a bruised hip after ducking to get a softball for a bunch of ten-year-olds, and came home wobbling for him to soak you a bath, chastening you to be careful. if you told anyone how soft he was for you, they would laugh, swearing that you were lying.

sometimes you had to get rafe to stop doting on you in front of his friends, rugged workers who would raise an eyebrow every single time they saw rafe kneel to tie your shoelaces.

"every goddamn time pup," he muttered lowly, "you're going to trip and i'm gonna have to kiss your boo boos? huh? answer me." rafe whispered crudely, while licking his lips as you flushed trying to look anywhere but his co-workers.

(you hated it so much that later on you were shoving your tongue down his throat telling him how much you loved him)

life was good. life was sweet, even if you couldn't get the nicest thing that there was in town, or that sometimes you had to settle for those cheap restaurants, or even if you had to dig out the nastiest rench out of the toilet after it had dropped. (okay, the last one was just a fun adventure rafe had told you not to do)

but there's something about that dress in the window. that stares back at you, and you can't help but feel this aching in your heart. it's this feeling that you can't escape when you walk past it every single day. the little ruffles, and the sheer beauty of the dress. sometimes you bite your tongue before walking past it, willing yourself to stop yourself.

when people told you a dress was meant for you, you had laughed toying with your jeans, wistfully nodding your head. the worst thing about it was the price tag.

one time you had willed yourself to enter in there, cold hands in your pants, as you skimmed past the other clothing to cut to the dress. just turning it over, you felt as if someone punched you in the stomach. 200 dollars? goddamn it, and then you quickly walked out, forgetting to say goodbye.

when you reached home, you pushed the door open in your shitty apartment, quickly going to get a strawberry soda. you ignored the raised eyebrow that rafe gave you, and before you knew it you were sniffling and running into the bedroom.

"uh—shit, hey, what's wrong?" his muffled voice rings clear into your head, "pup. can't cut me out like that. i thought we worked on that. managing your emotions and n’shit." there's a tone of concern in his voice, and you know he's stopping himself from barging in into the small room.

that was the first thing the two of you worked on. due to how small the place was, and given how much space both of you needed, you had rules to knock if the other went into a room, angry. rafe had started it, sitting you down telling you that sometimes he needed to be alone.

you bite your lip, folding yourself into a ball, as you mewl a "you can come in."

rafe entered the room with a sigh, folding his hands seeing you scrawled on the wooden floor. you bat your eyes, wispy eyelashes wet from crying, and you can't help yourself but reach out for him. he sits next to you, nudging you to scoot closer. you do, pressing your face against the folds of his button-up, smelling in the scent of peppermint and dirt.  

"you wanna tell me what that was about?"

you sober up, as he sits down next to you. you push your face closer to his chest as you shake your head. you couldn't dare tell him why you were feeling so horrible. you couldn't tell him you felt horrible because you couldn't have some stupid dress. money issues were something that rafe was used to, and for you to use it against him would be inhuman. no, you had what was the most important—rafe.

"so you're—you're gonna sulk?" he drawls, voice cruelly sweet, "c'mon kid, you can't just leave me hanging here. my sweet girl can't be crying."

you hiccupped, rubbing your eyes as you detached yourself from him, "no, i really can't tell you."  

now he was on alert, eyes sharp as he looked you over. you were never the one to cry and not tell him what was going on. make matters worse you would mope for weeks over the smallest thing. be it an animal documentary, or a story of a baby dying before meeting their mother. last week you had sobbed over the death of a ladybug.

"hey? hey!" rafe shook his head as he leaned closer to you to wipe away your tear, "did someone say something to you? just give me a name. i'll take care of you, you know i will."

this made you cry even harder, and you watched rafe look completely confused, as he tries to console you, you watched him bite the inside of his cheek, rubbing his hands against his sides. he looks completely helpless, and out of his element.

"it's about a dress," you whisper out, unsure as you look up at him, watching his lips twitch into a jeering smile.

"shit kid. all this-" rafe waved his hands around, a condencing tone edging in his voice, "all of this is about a dress? what's it made out of of—and uh, what the hell happened?"

somehow you can't help but laugh at his increditious tone, and realise how stupid it was of you not to tell him in the first place. he's your boyfriend, practically your best friend and everything to you.

you sniffled, "theres this dress that i see on my way to work, and it's so pretty, and i wish it was mine. every single time i see it, i feel like i'm betraying you."

rafe looked confused, running a hand through his hair "how would you be betraying me? 'just a dress."  

now you feel like crying even more, snot running down your face as he grabs your face to wipe it away, "no, rafe! not the dress. it's—" you let out a heavy sigh, "it's not the dress. it's the concept."

he looked amused, rubbing your back, "and that concept is?"

"that i'm not happy with you, and that i'm so greedy because i want a stupid dress, and that you deserve better, and that i'm just in it for the money!" you burst out, wailing at this point crumbling into rafe's arms. "i'm a bad person, rafe! i'm a bad person-"

and he says nothing. instead he gathers you in his arms, gently rubbing your head, as you whimpered softly. he's whispering something softly to you, as you try to burrow yourself closer to him.

"kid?"

"yea?"

"you're not a bad person for wanting something nice and new. especially if it's something that matters to you, uh, you gotta let yourself feel like that sometimes," he whispered out awkwardly, but when you look up at him you see the way that his eyes crinkled earnestly. he really cares about you, really cares about you.

"hell," he let out a laugh, "sometimes i feel like that. sometimes i want what those kooks have. those private jets, and houses and golf, and that doesn't make me a bad person," and then he gives you a soft smile before sobering up.

"what it means is that we gotta work harder for it," rafe mutters, pulling you closer, "but you and me?"

you nod waiting for him to say something.

"you and me are in for it. big time. and if it's some fancy dress you want, shit, i'm going to get you that dress, but you gotta wait," he coughed.

"i know this looks bad," he said, nudging at the apartment around the two of you, "but it's going to get better."

then he rests your head on his shoulders, and you feel more grateful than you ever.  

[rhapsody-clown]

Guys please I am BEGGING you to pay more attention to the art you're reblogging

I've seen 2 different posts this week in the poolverine tag of stolen art and they both had over a hundred notes and no one calling them out.

The easiest way to tell is to compare the watermark/signature on the image with the username (no signature in combo with weird cropping is an immediate red flag). Here's one that I've seen recently making the rounds, I highlighted the signature and username to compare

They don't match. HOWEVER, there are artists whose signature is different than their user, and if you're not sure, check the blog. If they're an actual artist, you should be able to tell immediately because there will be other art pieces that match the signature and style. Art thieves tend to post multiple pictures as well, but the key differences are: the speed at which they post (your average artist isn't posting 3 different pieces back to back in the same day, at least not without an explanation), the signatures and watermarks of course, and noticeable differences in artstyle (and even artists who practice different styles are still gonna have tells that it's their art like the shapes, anatomy, coloring, shading are going to resemble each other)

Back to the example blog, let's look at their other posts.

The first was posted the same day as the poolverine piece, and not only is there no signature + obvious cropping, it's a completely different artstyle. There was no credit for the og artist on the post. The second also has a different signature and artstyle, and of course no credit to the original artist. We know now that this person has no problems with posting other people's art and letting people believe it's theirs.

One of the most common excuses these reposters give is that they found it on pinterest or some other site, where there was no credit, and wanted to share it anyway. Except it took me 3 SECONDS to find the artist of the poolverine art by reverse image searching, which you can find HERE. I unfortunately couldn't find the source for the Scarlet Witch art, but I did find the source of "Y/N's hero suit" HERE. Of course, not being able to find the source is even less of an excuse, because you should always get the artist's permission to repost, and you can't do that if you don't even know who the artist is.

This isn't meant to make you feel terrible for unknowingly reblogging stolen art, I understand that if you're just scrolling along it's easy to just reblog something you like without thinking, I've done this myself before, which is why I'm so particular about the art I reblog now. If you're willingly reblogging art that you know is stolen, then you're up there with the thief in your shittiness and you can go fuck yourself.

You shouldn't have to go sleuthing just to reblog art you like, but unfortunately the internet has shitty people that steal, so it's better to be safe than sorry.

[urhoneycombwitch]

breathe in the air

eddie x reader x steve. part i

foreword: this is part one/set up for a fic I’ve been chewin’ on. cw is for both parts and will get updated- no actual smut in this first one but please heed the tags anyway. +18 mdni as always. (@somnambulic-thing you inspired me to write from Eddie’s pov! 💖)

cw: smoking (weed and nicotine), R’s hair is mentioned but unspecified texture/length, also wears Eddie’s shirt, R has breasts + V,  Eddie and Reader are both varying degrees of stoned while performing sex acts (please be safe IRL and don’t read if that makes you uncomfy!!), pt. ii will have: voyeurism (Eddie and R fool around and Steve watches), blow jobs, masturbation, both the boys being Down Bad™️

wc: 2.5k (part i)

_____

The sun has sunk low over Forest Hills, Eddie’s room cast in deep blue where the golden path of his bedside lamp doesn’t touch.

He’s lighting up a post-sex cigarette, one of the best things this shitty world has to offer, in his opinion- second only to feeling your warm body against his; writhing and wriggling with pleasure, neck craned to let him lick the sloping sweat from your skin- or times like now, when you’re calm and satiated, nude under the comfort of sheets and the weight of your head on his chest.

Casting a hand out to shuffle blindly through the bedside table, Eddie wraps his other arm around the sleepy length of you, pulling you tighter to himself; your response a wordless, happy little noise. His hand deep in the drawer catches on a stray cigarette, then around the hard plastic of a spare lighter. With a sigh of contentment, he kisses the top of your head before bringing the filter to his lips.

Sparks catch under his thumb, cherry of the cig burning red- like some sort of sleeper agent responding to the click, you sit up with a jolt, stealing the mess of sheets upwards, exposing Eddie’s lower half to the cool air.

Eddie swears, startled- thinking you were almost asleep, he’d been nearly careless with the open flame- tossing the lighter aside, he reaches towards your back that now faces him. “Jesus, babe. Give a guy some warning before you snap to attention like a damn general.”

Thumb pressed to the notches of your spine, palm wide around your lower back, Eddie can feel the quiet giggle that shakes through your ribs.

 “Sorry,” you whisper once you’re finished, still staring at the far wall like you're trying not to break a spell. Your arms are crossed, sheets bunching around your chest- “Had a thought.”

“Must’ve been a good one,” Eddie muses, thumb following the line of your spine down, like he’s petting an oversized cat.

In true feline fashion your back arches into his touch, encouraging his palm to sweep up again, to your shoulder blade this time as you murmur, “I wanna go swimming.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s immediately agreeable, taking a long drag from the cig, letting smoke fill out the hollows around his lungs. “We’ll go to Lover’s Lake tomorrow. Heard it’s gonna be a hot one.”

Hawkins is having a record heat wave for the second summer in a row- as if all the damn underground monster shit and horrific earthquakes of last year weren’t enough already: global warming to top it all off. The sun has been merciless these last few weeks, peaking midday, nothing for it but to lie in a heated daze on the kitchen tiles of whoever’s house is the least amount of bitch to get to.

Not that Eddie’s complaining about you being half-naked most of the time. He thinks this is the year you might actually kill him, now that he can touch you, call you his- every curve of upper calf in those short shorts, every soft slip of stomach peeking out from cropped tops- he’s got enough spank bank material to last until his deathbed. (Which he’s decidedly allowed to joke about, since, ya know, the whole almost-dying thing last spring.)

Eddie moves on haptic memory to set aside his cigarette, searching pinky-out for the lip of the ashtray (ceramic, with a poorly-drawn Snoopy, the ears far too big- you’d laughed until you cried over it at the thrift store; he was fifty cents poorer that day but rich and dizzy off your glee). 

“No, not the lake. And I wanna go swimming now.” There’s a hint of petulance in your voice, walking the thin line of childish whine that only appears these days after you’ve smoked, tongue and desires loosened and lax with the help of the finest hash stash in Hawkins. 

There’s a smile threatening to split Eddie’s face in two. He’s been working at that hard-won wall of your solitude for ages now, showing rather than telling you it’s okay to ask for things, that you’re safe to make requests and hell, even demands, from him. Eddie’s not sure what he wouldn’t do for you, at this point- hasn’t found that line yet. Probably doesn’t exist.

A monster of my own design, he thinks, fondly, sweeping the hair from your neck so he can see the outline of cheek and jawbone, reflective with lamplit glow. “Baby, there’s nowhere to swim right now- it’s dark and that’s not real safe. Tomorrow I’ll make us some sandwiches- we can drive out to the lake, you can get stoned and I’ll play lifeguard.”

It’s probably too much to hope you’ve swallowed this bitter pill of compromise in silence, but based on the lack of response, it’s certainly possible. Eddie presses his thumb into the muscle where your neck meets shoulder, massage a silent apology for saying no when you’d been so good to ask. 

Crickets chirp in chorus outside, sound dampened by the glass window- he needs to open it soon, get the hot air out and night breeze flowing (though he is loath to replace the heady smell of sex wrapped like a cozy blanket around his room).

He feels you shuffle under his hand, eyes popping open to watch- you’ve tucked your chin over the dip in your shoulder, looking down the slope of your own nose at him, an expression on your face that makes Eddie’s stomach flip (with nerves, fear, excitement, hard to pinpoint exactly).

Your voice is quiet but steady when you speak, Eddie’s massaging fingers freezing to a halt when you say, “I know a place, open right now, with a lit-up pool. And a lifeguard.”

A thin tendril of smoke from the ashtray floats into Eddie’s vision as he stares blankly at the ceiling for a moment. Then he sits up, crushing the cherry into Snoopy’s wavered outline (sorry, pal) before brushing arms with you, patient and stern with a headshake to match- “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why-y?” That petulance is back, Eddie’s heart kicking up in response; it’s your turn to give the physical affection, winding your arms in a closed loop around his neck, forehead bumping against his jaw as he works it back and forth. 

His stitched-tight resolve quickly unspools as the wet plush of your lips track a path across his throat; he clears it before squeezing at your side again, one last argument to try and stick like cooked spaghetti to a wall. “You’re high.”

You snort, puff of breath sending goosebumps across his skin, rapidly cooling from lack of your affection- “Yeah, and you’re not. So you can drive us there, and then smoke again with me before we go in, and Stevie boy will keep us safe in that nice, heated, well-lit pool of his.”

Even as you speak, Eddie’s shaking his head, but it’s more in disbelief of his own weakness (namely: you). He slips a hand to your cheek, pulling back to take you in- mischief shimmering like twin stars in your eyes as you lock onto his gaze, lips parting pliant when his thumb swipes at your bottom lip. 

“You gonna behave yourself?”

It’s less of a question and more of a check-in, the meaning behind the words an undulating variable, a riddle with a thousand different answers.

The one you do give is complimented by a wicked grin, punctuated with a quick kiss (awfully chaste, considering your bare front pressed against his), your mirthful delight at having won both unsettling and tantalizing.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

With a sudden push to his chest, Eddie goes down easy for you, hair spreading riotous across the pillow as you move with shocking fluidity to throw a leg over his hip. Your hands meet in the middle of his chest, just under the rippling ink of a crow in flight, settling your weight comfortably on his stomach. 

Eddie’s sure you can feel his pulse, jack-rabbit fast, as you dip to kiss beneath his jaw. His hands automatically settle on your hips, grip tightening with each loving kiss you scatter over his collarbones, his sternum.

He’s half-hard under the sheets by the time your lips find the hitch of his ribs, stuttering and expanding to meet your mouth- can’t be faulted, really, not when your bare chest gleams in the low light, the top of your head imploring for the warmth of his wide palm to rest. 

Just when Eddie thinks he’s in the clear, that the call of your needs (evident in the slickness pooling just under his navel where your naked cunt rests) will drive the call of your wants to distraction, you sit up again, using your planted hands as leverage to swing completely off and away.

The coldness of your absence is cruel and unusual punishment. Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, deciding right then that he won’t be above begging tonight- when you suddenly reappear with a clean beach towel in either arm, pulled from the bowels of his closet.

There’s youthful, honest enthusiasm to your movements- something that’s catching, apparently, ‘cuz Eddie’s tipping himself out of bed with a resigned sigh, pulling boxers over his flagging dick and answering your spree of questions about these new evening plans.

“Sure, bring a water bottle. No, babe, we don’t need sunscreen- it’s night. Yeah, I’ll bring more weed. How ‘bout you bring me that old shoulder bag and we can bring some stuff with us.”

As you work on digging through the mess of a combined closet to find something suitable for swimming, Eddie folds the two towels that you’d found along with a baggie of joints into the bag. You’re humming under your breath while getting dressed, and Eddie’s staring at all the leftover space- what does one pack for a nighttime high swim with one’s girlfriend and the guy you’ve both sort-of mentioned threesoming with?

He tosses in a well-loved edition of your favorite book of poems, figuring the Harrington abode will have plenty of snacks. Food for the mind, he thinks, then snorts at his own joke. 

“C’mon, snorty.” You beckon from the doorway, an old t-shirt of his just swishing past the dark strip of your bikini bottoms, van keys held aloft. 

At the front door, there’s a brief argument about coats (you think you’ll be fine without, Eddie disagrees vehemently) which Eddie wins, wrangling your arms into the sleeves of his oil-stained work jacket before locking the front door behind you both.

Eddie smiles, a secret, pure thrill watching you tiptoe gingerly across the gravel on bare feet (too stubborn to actually wear the sandals that hang from either hand). His coat is bunched up around your ears while your legs poke out like some sort of winterized bird with bare legs. 

There’s a bright pang of love that suddenly hits hits sideways, a dizzying urge to sink on denim knees to the ground, sharp rocks be damned, just to kiss the tender spot behind your knees, to feel the hill of your calf under his tongue…

Your giggle breaks his reverie, impatient and pointed jiggling of the locked passenger handle clunking out into the quiet park. “Quit staring, weirdo. You coming?”

Hope so, Eddie thinks, spinning the key ring in looping arcs around his pointer finger. He bypasses the porch steps completely, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Your cheery mood is sustained during the short car ride as you chatter animatedly about some coworker drama that you forgot to catch him up on, Eddie’s hand drawn like a magnet to your upper thigh while he drives. 

But by the time he’s pulling the van next to Harrington’s beemer, your eagerness has waned, speech drifting off into silence once he’s parked. 

“Hey.” His voice draws you back to him, a bit, your eyes too wide and roving for his liking, coat sleeves clenched around opposing fists as you hang onto his words. “Sweetheart. We don’t have to go inside. Can go anywhere- diner for some food, back home, the damn trash heap for all I care. Just want you to feel safe.”

“I do,” you counter, earnest but chest still punching a fast rhythm. “I feel safe. I just… you think he’s even awake?”

There’s a yellow glow coming from one of the second-floor windows. Your fingers twist harshly around fabric in the dark, breath loud. 

Eddie nods, then kills the engine and grabs behind his seat for the Ziploc of pre-rolls, an offering held to you between two ringed fingers. “Want a bit of Green Courage before going in?”

The van windows are soon fuzzily obscured with a haze of smoke, sprinklers for the pristine lawn nearby hissing to an automated start at the turn of 11 PM. The weed coaxes your earlier state of relax to the forefront, this time with an added layer of giggles, which Eddie finds desperately cute. 

He’s sure he’s high now, too, ‘cuz he’s unintentionally focusing really hard on your lips as you speak, and you’re letting him, corner of your mouth quirking when you ask, “Gonna take me inside, Munson?”

“Uh huh.” An automatic response, just so he can keep staring- when you pop the handle of your door open Eddie reaches, faltering before landing on your face, cupping the tilt of your cheek- “Meant it. Earlier. Just say the word. Take you anywhere.”

Weed fragments his speech but you melt with understanding, leaning into his hand, your lashes sweeping sweetly at the bridge of his thumb as you whisper, “Okay.”

You’re out the door and he’s left scrambling in the wake, hauling the strap of the packed bag over one shoulder and snapping up your forgotten shoes from the footwell. He locks the doors (nevermind that this is a nice neighborhood, can’t trust rich people farther than he can throw ‘em and Eddie has always been better at running over shotput on field days) and hikes it across the grass to where you stand, a beacon of beauty under the porch light.

“Ready?” he asks.

Your bare foot- flecked with wet grass- trails up the back of your opposing leg, veins at the whites of your eyes spidering pink with anticipation (and the fresh joint) as you turn to smile at him. “Yeah. Bring it on.”

“Your wish, my command,” Eddie says, winking, knuckles pulled into a fist to rap at the front door of one Steve Harrington. 

___

[END: PART ONE]

[piftamere]

the eclipse

one - lonesome town (wc : 900)

Today, objectively, sucked. 

First Akaashi got dumped, no warnings, not even a fight. Just a simple “we need to talk,” followed by the most unoriginal breakup excuses, “I just want to focus on school,” “it’s not you, it’s me,” and so on. In the alley behind the store during his break, too.

Then, as if the universe was testing him, he spilled coffee on his white button-up, one his now ex-girlfriend had bought him, so maybe it was for the better. The coffee shop Suna recommended was packed, he had to shuffle through a noisy crowd and his earphones were dead. 

To top it all off, the backup shirt he borrowed from his aforementioned dark-haired coworker was cropped. He wasn’t in the mood to show his midriff on a Tuesday afternoon, or ever really. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Akaashi dragged his feet up to the counter. A red-haired barista was sculpting something unrecognizable in the foam of a latte, while beside him, a girl was carefully decorating a cupcake, her tongue sticking out in concentration. 

It was pink and green, covered in tiny star-shaped sprinkles. Actually, now that he thought about it, the entire shop seemed to be star-themed. Even the drinks had space-related names, like “Galactic Espresso” or “Cosmic Latte.”

He watched as she cheerfully held up the cupcake in front of her coworker’s face, eyes expectant. “Tada !”

“Beautiful, Yn. Now please serve the next customer.”

She huffed, mumbling something about how he barely glanced at her new creation as she turned to face Akaashi. 

Her apron had various starry pins, and a few even adorned her hair. He caught the way her lips moved, but didn’t register a single word that came out. His brain was too fried from the shitty day he was having.

He blinked a couple of times. “Sorry ?”

She smiled brightly, not looking the least bit annoyed. “Hi ! What can I get you ?”

“Hi… huh. I don’t know.”

“You… don't know ?” She tilted her head, with a puzzled expression. “Maybe I can recommend something for you ?”

He hesitated but eventually nodded.

She studied him for a moment, and for some reason, it made him nervous. Like she’d be able to see exactly what kinda day he was having. Like she could tell he was feeling like absolute shit.

If she did, she didn’t point it out. Instead, she tapped her chin pensively, then snapped her fingers. “You look like you need something sweet. How about a Pink Stardust ?”

“A what ?”

“It’s an espresso with milk, strawberry syrup, fresh strawberry slices, and whipped cream, with stars sprinkled on top, obviously.”

Akaashi cringed on the inside but he’d already held up the line long enough, and she looked so sure of her choice that he just sighed and gave in.

As he paid, she grabbed a marker. “What’s your name ?”

“Akaashi, what’s yours ?” he asked as he saw her write his name on the plastic cup and suddenly wished to disappear in the ground.

She chuckled. “I’m Yn. You can wait over there while I make your drink, Akaashi.”

He quickly shuffled out of the way, trying not to look as awkward as he felt. A few minutes passed before she called his name, “Here you go ! Also, I love Radiohead !”

He stared at her in silent confusion until she pointed to his (well, Suna’s) shirt.

“Oh… Yeah, me too.” Akaashi chose to lie to her face instead of explaining that he was having the worst day of his life.

Her eyes lit up. “Really ? Name five songs.”

“Huh…” Akaashi froze.

She snorted. “That was a joke. Can you imagine if I was serious ?”

He exhaled a small laugh. “Right, that’d be embarrassing.”

She chuckled again, and he found himself mirroring her without thinking. “Have a nice day !”

“You too.” He gave her a half-smile, cup in hand as he walked over to a quiet corner of the shop. There was no way he was going back to work anytime soon. Suna could survive on his own. Probably.

Akaashi warily took a sip of the pinkest drink he’d seen in his life. It was sweet. Really sweet. The kind of sweet where he could feel the sugar attacking his teeth as he swallowed. 

But also, somehow, it wasn’t terrible. Actually, it was kinda good.

Sighing, he pulled out his notebook and flipped to a blank page, but his brain refused to cooperate. He just stared at the empty page, pen hovering above it uselessly.

He took another sip, shifting his grip on the cup, then paused.

Something was written just beneath his name.

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

Akaashi blinked, he glanced back towards the counter. She was busy making drinks, still smiling, still effortlessly bright. She didn’t even look in his direction, didn’t wait for a reaction. She was just… nice.

He hesitated, then ripped a corner of the blank page he’d been staring at and scribbled something, folding it up, along with the biggest tip he could afford.

As he got up to leave, he waited for a moment when she was looking away before slipping his note and money under the tip jar. Before she could turn around, he escaped through the door, his heart a bit lighter.

facts

yn can read

she's not the most efficient barista, she's too chatty

in case it's not clear the first note says "you made my day a little better with your kindness, thank you for that.”

suna and yn haven't met yet

akaashi's handling the break up well right?

suna has a video of akaashi pouring coffee all over his shirt

author's note

i'm sdgbkjsbdf!!

the eclipse - next

taglist : open!

@lvtilzs @evilari111 @keijicentric @loriiiroari @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wordsofelie @rowensboat @luvvmae @sunasstovetop @hrithi11 @graveantics @0rangej0e @sugacor3 @spectoo @softtashoney

[babybatss-blog]

Hii, I'm Brazilian, so I'm sorry for this shitty writing

can you write something with SDV Sam? I rarely see fanfics with him and I wanted a creative boost to imagine what his married life with the farmer would be like (with all the scenes, even some spicy ones 😉)

WITH YOU

(Stardew) sam x reader, 1400 words

a/n: since you left it pretty vague I tried to make this not too plot heavy, instead it’s a simple drabble on marriage with out fav bachelor! I hope this is what you were wanted lovely x

cw: proposal with a ring instead of mermaid pendant, marriage, slight out of characterness (which makes sense trust me), mentions of adult activities but nothing explicit, slight swearing, kissing and making out. Talk of babies at the end.

How he managed it, you’ll never know. For a man so often oblivious and clumsy, he pulled of the proposal of your dreams.

It was 11pm on a Friday, and after Sam randomly disappeared from the bar under the guise of a full bladder you thought something was off. Abigail and Sebastian were oddly giggly, the other patrons far too watchful of you and Sam was taking way too much time than he should be. Eventually you got up, walking to the bathroom to only find Alex. “Oh, he left.” He simply stated, a matter of fact tone that lazily disguised a strange excitement. “He went to the beach.”

You walk down to the beach, muttering to yourself about what he could possibly be doing. He didn’t have much to drink so this wasn’t some dumb wandering, and he seemed relatively happy earlier so it couldn’t be that something upset him. Come to think of it though, he did appear overly fidgety, like a man with something stressful on his mind.

As you near the beach, shimmering lights start to appear. At first they remind you of Zuzu city, but once you see the man standing in the middle of them, you know that you are actually home. Your home stands within the candles, a grin on his face as you realise: this is it. The day you have dreamed for since you were a child, wishing you could have. It doesn’t take a very long nervous speech from Sam to bring you both to tears, choking out repeated agreements between lovesick kisses and hugs. The next couple of months are spent in a bliss, no matter how stressful. It turns out that Sam was contemplating the day of your marriage just as much as you were, so the collaboration of the wedding went by as a breeze.

What colour is the aisle? Blue. What type of bouquet do you have? Wild grass and Dandelions. What is served at the reception? A mix of pizza pockets and joja cola (despite how unprofessional it may be, this had to be done.)

And the honeymoon phase never ended. It may be because you never actually got to go on a honeymoon, but the two of you spent everyday in a comfortable paradise, going about your daily tasks and enjoying each other’s comfortable company. “Do you think you could teach me how to plant crops?” He asks out of the blue, when the two of you were cuddled up on the couch watching another horrible sitcom. Surprisingly, Sam has managed to mellow out in his locked down lifestyle, swapping his late-night escapades for meaningless conversations and the sound of heavy metal to the rain on a drowsy afternoon. You snort, shocked by his change in attitude. The Sam you knew, so boisterous and uncontrollable has been replaced with a lovesick old pup, preferring spending time with his partner over risking his life.

“You? Mr hay fever? No way!”

But less than a week later it happened, and he was collapsed in the grass, sweaty and pouty. “Who knew gardening would be so hard?!” He whined, throwing his head back like a toddler who was told they couldn’t have ice cream. You laugh, walking over and holding his chin in your hand, towering over his weak frame. Your gloves get dirt on his face, but neither of you care because his jeans have been ripped up, hair frizzy, and he even managed to cut himself with a shovel, however impossible that may seem.

“I warned you. But you insisted that you would be fine, dumbass.” “You should have forced me not too.” “I know beautiful boy. I’m sorry.” You croon, crouching down to his level. But all prior anger dissolves within him at the look in your eyes, leaning forward for a deep kiss. Despite his grown-up demeanour, the two of you still love like teenagers, hungry for each other’s touch and fragile after every little look. His tongue lurches into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny like it’s the first time as you groan in pleasure at his unadulterated lust. You would never admit what happened next.

It's not even three months into the marriage now, and Sam wakes up to find you already up, as per usual. You stand at the window with a cup of tea in your hand, and he can smell the mouthwatering pancakes you made on the table. How he got lucky enough to have you, he’ll never know. “Good morning sexy” he teases, slinging his arms around your shoulder and looking out the window with you towards your hard work. That’s one thing he’s always admired from you… Your insane amount of dedication and resilience. When you inherited the farm, it was a battered mess, and after school he would go there with Abigail and Sebastian, always returning home with blackberry cuts and twigs in their hair. But now it is a utopia, alight with all types of plants, animals, and decorations. Plus, you managed to make an insane profit out of the whole ordeal, turning your struggle to pay the bills into shouting everyone at the saloon on someone’s birthday to a drink and a hot meal. “Have a good sleep?” You ask, looking up at him with an adoring smile. “Course, you know me.” Scoffing, you reply with a shaking head “like a baby.”

And honestly, it’s true. If Sam has one talent, it’s his ability to fall asleep in a split second. The moment the lights are off he’s obnoxiously snoring, often crushing you with his dead weight. If he was to be asked why, he would say it’s because of you. Just as much as you view him as your home, he also sees you as his. A safe haven, someone he knows will take care of him and always be there for him, no matter what.

“Like a baby.” He repeats, looking out the window with a strange, squinting expression. It confuses you, but you don’t push. After all, he just woke up. It’s not uncommon for him to struggle with opening his eyes or being a functioning human being in the morning, he’s like a bear out of hibernation. But eventually he lets you into his thoughts anyways. “Actually, I’ve been thinking… How would you feel about trying for baby. I know we are still pretty early into this whole marriage thing, but it just feels right. I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.”

For the first time in a long while Sam seems properly nervous, rambling his words and shuffling about. It’s nice to see that side of him, and truthfully you feel like you were at the start of the relationship too. Happy. Giddy. Excited. “Seriously?! Sam, I thought you said you wanted to take your time with that part of our life??” You place the mug down and turn to him, furrowing your brow. This unintentionally makes him panic, backing up on his words regretfully. “No, no I’m still happy for that. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I know I wanted to take my time. Sorry.” Your heart melts, looking at your husbands worried face. Shouldn’t he know you would never judge? You peck his cheek, holding both his hands with a tender smile. “Don’t be sorry. I’d love that.” In a split second he lifts you up into his arms, kissing your face in a variety of places as you laugh.

“Baby baby baby!” he chants, jumping up and down. Soon he practically launches you onto the bed, lying on top of you and further peppering you with kisses, that uncomfortable stitch in your side forming from your pure laughter and ecstasy. It’s safe to say the next couple of weeks are spent tirelessly trying, in between sessions of rants about how great your little family is going to be.

[calcium-chan]

DRAWMEGLE DUMP FROM LIKEFORVER AGO

drawmegle was this weird little website that was like omegle, except for drawing and nominally fewer nazis?? tho at launch that was a bit of an issue lol (idk the creator went on vacation right after advertising or something? oops). i got sucked into it for like a day or two and ended up drawing a bunch of stuff. ive lost some of it because there was this weird glitch that just deleted my drawings before i could save them or anything. OH WELL. thats also the reason some of these are slightly unfinished. im also going to be cropping most of these to just my side, exceptions where its funny, or the other persons art was nice or whatever. just know that these almost all had people on the other side who were also drawing their own thing. also of note, i wont be posting these in order of creation, its mostly arbitrary tbh

this first one is of haru from dorohedodo. i had just finished reading the manga about a month or so prior, and i really loved this character a lot. disregard the amogus or whatever. dorohedoro is really cool and its really special to me now. not a fan of the anime adaption but what the fuck else is new (im sorry if you like the anime, i just didnt like the style very much). Q hayashida is brilliant, and she clearly just really loves women like a lot, thank you miss Q!

next is this silly drawing of knives chau. scott pilgrim takes off had just aired, and i was slightly enamored with knives for a bit, i kin the scott pilgrim girl fucking sue me. i also drew kim, but the drawing deleted and this was the last save i had WAHOOOOOO its so fucking over. scott pilgrim takes off was obviously really really good in my opinion, and its like the perfect way to adapt an original work in my mind. uh shout outs knives or whatever.

oops shitty cowboy bebop drawing. i like this one well enough for how goofy it is. jets fucking face still kinda gets me. i love bebop a ton, but i dont think ive ever drawn the characters despite that. theyre actually a ton of fun to draw, like their shapes are all super varied and they have distinct style about them. very good cast of characters. i didnt even realize or mean to, but i kinda gave spike a fucking granny face, oops

uuuuhthese pissing dogs are really funny, they were fun to draw, and seeing peoples reactions to this one in particular was cool. having even a little bit of ability to draw on sites like this where randos are looking at your work as youre drawing it is always kind of an ego boost. like none of these drawings are really that great, but for the medium im happy with them, and having people show up and go "woah" was always really flattering and it was fun watching the other people draw and interacting with them in some limited capacity.

ggggundam bullshit. i left the other persons side this time because i thought it was kinda funny. i had been rewatching the early part of turn A gundam, and it really reminded me how fucking cool that series is? loran is like top 10 gender non conforming mech pilots (there are a surprising amount honestly). and it always kinda takes me off guard when i watch any gundam because they were just so forward thinking in a nominally "boy" coded genre. shoutouts the fucking gundam staff frfr.

@oretal joined me for these next two!

a lot of the shit in the second drawing is probably totally incomprehensible to like anyone outside of a select group. were both have that like, 3ds era nintendo brain parasite, so a lot of these are just weird obscure game characters or memes, or just straight up OCs. most of these are actually oretals little characters which have kind of entered that inside joke canon of being so ubiquitous between the two of us (and honestly i assume oretals friend group at large) that i kinda forget "glasses girl" isnt a well known character. many such cases. thank you oretal for drawing silly shit with me! i really like your drawing of james and your madotsuki yapping about blunt rotations to uboa. very cool

uuuh quick fire round of stuff i dont like how i drew but want to post anyways. the first one is my irl husband, aki from chainsaw man. i love him a lot, kinda hate this drawing tho, i think it was the first one i did? the second one is basil from omori, im a big fan of little blorbos who peep the horror, and basil is no exception. my friend got me the little vinyl figure of him for my birthday so i end up thinking about him a lot and i doodle him every now and then. very good design. the last one is kiruko from heavenly delusion. i did not have much hype going into the show after my middling feelings on summertime rendering (they were both in the news for being on disney+ for absolutely no reason). i dont remember what got me to watch it, but by the time episode 2 ended i was stuck in big time. i ended up binging the whole series in like one night and it was such a good time. the prototypical calcium show is probably somewhere between heavenly delusion and made in abyss. its a rough watch at times, but if you have this specific brainrot, its probably one of the best in its league tbh.

second to last is this drawing of vriska homestuck. i kept the other side because it was really pretty. im genuinely quite pleased witht his drawing, its not perfect but for what it is i find it visually appealing enough to like it. vriskas design is probably the best in homestuck, at least to me. its been a long time since ive read through homestuck proper, but something about these little shits sticks with you pretty much forever. actual fucking deadly brain parasites you get from dunking your head underwater in an infested pool, dead within days.

OOPS ALL KUMI CHAN! it had to be alien nine, it could only be alien nine. i love alien nine more than i love any of my blood relatives. kumi is literally me, i love this stupid fucking series so much you have no idea.

[butwhatifidothis]

got long under the cut it goes

Claude does whatever he feels most benefits his goals at the moment regardless of morals. He teams up with Faerghus when he feels it benefits him most, he teams up with the Church when he feels it benefits him most, he teams up with the Empire when he feels it benefits him most and he throws his allies to the dogs when he feels it benefits him most. Like in Houses, Claude tells Dimi before leaving in Azure Moon that this is how he operates and that he only makes moves that he thinks benefit him. That's the story trying to communicate how Claude and Dimi are different. Do fans think he's just trying to be cute or that his words mean nothing?

This paragraph astounds me, because it's just... not true. At all. This is such a profoundly shitty reading of Claude's character.

He teams up with the Kingdom on AM... because Dimitri is immediately shown to be alive, meaning the Kingdom isn't nearly in ruins. Claude doesn't know that Dimitri is alive otherwise - he thinks the Kingdom doesn't even exist anymore, as shown in VW. And since a similar belief is held from Seteth in SS, we can assume Claude thinks the same in that route too.

In fact, on SS the ones who initiate the allyship between the Alliance and Church is Seteth, not Claude - likely because he didn't fuckin' know they were there otherwise! Because Claude just doesn't know much about the goings-on happening outside of the Alliance, and what he does know tells him that those of the Kingdom and Church literally can't help him. And considering how much work is put into putting up the Alliance's neutrality - and how much doing so did in fact keep the Alliance safe for most of the war - he can't afford to help unless a definitive event happens (ala news of Byleth returning) that's guaranteed to make doing so worth it.

Because oh my fucking god, if it was really and truly and honestly strictly and only about benefiting himself and only himself then he would have just fucking sided with Edelgard from the beginning and never would have bothered with the damn neutrality. What point is there in literally ever siding with the Church or the Kingdom, if siding with Edelgard was on the table? In 3H, the only way he """""""helps""""""" Edelgard is through him trying to placate her into not harming the Alliance and his friends, and only if he'd lost against her if he failed in winning. As opposed to the Kingdom and Church, who he goes so far as to fuck with Gloucester's forces to give them a path to the Great Bridge, and on AM gives them his family Relic with no prompt from Dimitri.

Because, wow! When Claude says he only works to benefit himself, it was like he was... lying! Because he has multiple moments on and off of his route where he shows that to be a flat out lie! His words don't mean nothing, they aren't cute, they're meant to show that he wants to put up the front of being a certain type of person so that enemies will think he'll do one thing before he does something else entirely - it's called misdirection. It is a deliberate tactic, and also a showcasing of his character that he would say something like this. We can see that he does not actually embody this sort of mindset through his actions - but, hey, he SAID one thing, so LITERALLY EVERYTHING HE EVER DOES THAT GO AGAINST THIS IDEA must not mean anything!

And, fuckin', when on earth does he ever throw his allies to the dogs in 3H?? Literally when?? Even with Gloucester, he only distracts his men, and he does so explicitly because he doesn't want things to end in blood between them. Can't be Acheron, because that guy betrayed Claude and the Alliance first - and in that vein, can't be Lorenz when he was the one to attack an SS/AM army for the Empire. This is just a fuckin' fib! He does this in Hopes, because Hopes was written by a group of meth-addled giraffes banging their heads against keyboards.

Because, like OP says, GW!Claude is just a braindead idiot, mindlessly accepting that Edelgard is totally okay to side with - even though she invaded his neutral lands and killed many of his people, without ever trying to negotiate with him, and all before lying to his face about doing so, and all after HE HIMSELF WILL EXPLAIN WHY DOING SO WILL FUCK HIM OVER AND NOT HELP HIM AT ALL. This stupid fucking insistence that he sided with Edelgard because he's an opportunist and that that reasoning makes sense for him to think in the narrative falls flat on its face when HE IS THE ONE to point out that HE DOES NOT GAIN from siding with Edelgard. And definitely not after HE IS THE ONE to say that Edelgard IS AFTER THE VANQUISHMENT OF THE KINGDOM AND ALLIANCE AND NOT JUST THE CHURCH earlier in the SAME DAMN ROUTE.

Do those words mean nothing? Were those words meant to just be cute? If GW!Claude really thought that, then sees Edelgard violently invade his neutral lands, THEN sees Edelgard lie about doing so directly to his face, then WHAT, in the GODDAMN EARTH, could have made his brain think "Yes, siding with THIS ONE will help me out, this person who has shown multiple acts of extreme hostility and who I think wants to VANQUISH. MY ENTIRE COUNTRY" ???

And like the reblogger above me says, he's written with writing that at least appears to have been done with... not the best intentions in mind. He goes from someone who only goes for violence as a last resort, to someone chomping at the bit to inflict as much violence as possible (because, hey, no, forcing Sreng into the war is very much not mitigating violence). He goes from someone who makes meticulous plans that strike at vital points in the enemy's defenses, to someone who will just galivant about the place invading the Kingdom as is his wanton inclinations. He goes from someone who has grand ambitions that are close to his heart and mind at all times and have been close to him since before he entered Garreg Mach, to being someone who can't even begin to think about what the fuck he's gonna do after the war's done. From someone who is open-minded about hearing from those around him even if he distrusts and dislikes them, to not even thinking about trying to learn anything after hearing one piece of information that feeds into his confirmation bias.

And hey, look at that, out of the four named Almyran characters in Hopes, three of them are violent, idiotic invaders, and two of them have to be steered by the righteous whities (after being transformed into idiotic violent invaders, mind - Nader might have liked to fight, but that by no means means he also likes to pillage). And the last one? Completely irrelevant to anything regarding the story. Not even a playable character. He dies, and the only one to give a shit at all is Rhea, not Claude.

But back to Claude specifically; he goes from being a smart, open-minded, kind leader, even around his trust issues, to a cruel violent idiot who can't be trusted to look after a cat, let alone an entire country. Like, hey, yeah, as a fan of Claude I do, in fact, have a problem with that. And I have a problem with people like you, nonnie, who will just go on and on about how anyone with an issue with GW's shitty (and racist) handling of Claude's character only have issues because wE JuSt WaNtEd ClAuDe To SiDe wItH dImItRi. All while you will just COMPLETELY FUCKING IGNORE how everything GW!Claude does after Part 2 strictly and only benefits the pretty white woman, even if it directly fucks GW!Claude over by his own damn admission.

Fucking NOTHING of Claude's ambitions are ever sought after in GW once Part 2 hits - border relations between Fodlan and foreign countries are fucked because of Sreng and Claude's handling of Almyra regarding it, the Kingdom will HATE HIM because of his violent and unjust actions towards it, the Alliance is going to become a vassal state of the now strengthened Empire who will now not have to worry about the Kingdom. Meanwhile, again; the Kingdom is weakened; the Alliance will have no chance at standing up against the Empire, by Claude (and Holst's!) admission; Rhea is dead, and thus the Church is fucked; all while the only thing the Empire has lost is one shitty general no one cared about anyway. Edelgard gets everything she wants. Everything. The end of GW is her getting Fodlan on a fuckin' golden platter, while GW!Claude eats shit in the corner. But no, please, tell me more about how this totally doesn't treat Claude like "a third party that validates their side." Eat my ass

is GW's direction really that crazy when you think about it? feels more like people are just salty that Claude didn't team up with their faves on his route because people look at Claude as a third party that validates their side. But what I saw in Hopes fit what I thought about Claude from Houses Claude does whatever he feels most benefits his goals at the moment regardless of morals. He teams up with Faerghus when he feels it benefits him most, he teams up with the Church when he feels it benefits him most, he teams up with the Empire when he feels it benefits him most and he throws his allies to the dogs when he feels it benefits him most. Like in Houses, Claude tells Dimi before leaving in Azure Moon that this is how he operates and that he only makes moves that he thinks benefit him. That's the story trying to communicate how Claude and Dimi are different. Do fans think he's just trying to be cute or that his words mean nothing? Claude's not a man of rigid principles, he's an opportunist. He, the other characters and supplementary material repeat that same message about him over and over again too. like Claude's not supposed to be a uniformly kind person, he's friendly and pleasant to talk to but someone that can be amoral or moral depending on the circumstances. And in GW, an alliance with Edelgard was more personally beneficial to him than trying to team up with Faerghus. They have the bigger force, they're paying Leicester significant reparations, they're getting stability at his southern border and they want to eliminate the same threat.

I mean.... It kinda is a crazy direction.

The issue isn't just the differences between Hopes!Claude and Houses!Claude. That could be a whole other explanation on its own, but since you have framed it as in-character, let's go over the other reason why it is a poor direction on its own.

The biggest issue, anon, is that Hopes!Claude... is an idiot.

Nothing he does or says makes much sense when you add up all the worldbuilding elements together into one big pile.

For example, he decides to side with Edelgard and wipe out the Church. He believes this will end the war quicker, and remove Edelgard's justification for war. And if that justification is gone, then Edelgard will have no choice but to cease her aggressions, or else the war is no longer justified.

However, this logic ignores sooooo many things. The first is that Edelgard publicly declares that the Kingdom and Alliance are false nations that only exist due to meddling forces. That should be a red flag right there and then. Not only that, but Edelgard invaded his nation and beelined for the capital. That should have been another red flag. If Edelgard didn't wish to take over the Alliance, she would have had no need to go for the throat.

Claude even admits that Edelgard might not stop her war. He should know that someone may not stop a war just because it is no longer "justified". And yet, he continues to side with her.

Here is another one. Claude puts a lot of blame on the Church for... basically everything wrong with Foldan. Forced marriages. Fierce border protections. The existence of nobility. The lack of freedom for nobles. I mean, just everything and anything you can think of, in his eyes it is the fault of Rhea and her Church.

But how can he come to that conclusion? Does he live under a rock? Is he not the leader of the Alliance? Does he not know that Edmund, within his own Alliance territory, makes trades with other nations outside of Foldan? When he went to school, did he not see how people of Duscur, Brigid, and Almyra got places in the classroom? How a woman from overseas got to be a Knight of Seiros? Even if he only spent two weeks there, surely he saw something, no?

He is also a prince of another nation. A nation with no Church, and no Crests. And they still have a King and nobility of their own. So why is he blaming the Church for such things? He literally is from another nation.

Hopes!Claude feels like he was written by a young author who is just starting out. There is no logic to his thinking. He just hates the Church because the writers needed him to.

And what makes it worse is that Claude is supposed to be the smart one. He is lauded as the brilliant tactician. The guy who thinks 5 steps ahead in every chess match. But he comes across as the most ignorant of the three lords, who cannot see past his own nose.

So yes, this is why is it a crazy direction. It's not just because of any misalignment of his character from Houses. It's because within Hopes itself, Claude is just a moron that it is hard to take him and his thought processes seriously.

[xhoneygirlxx]

Training Wheels

Eddie Munson x plus sized fem!reader

summary: two roommates in love never seem to work. or do they?

warnings: slight angst, mentions of insecurity and people being mean to reader. fluff. jealous eddie. possessive eddie. roommate au. modern au. idiots in love. friends to lovers. reader and eddie are 21+. y/n is not used (babe, baby, princess, sweetheart used). smut, 18+ only, minors DNI. slight dom/sub dynamic. unprotected p in v, reader is described to be on birth control. oral receiving (f). fingering. cream pie. sexual innuendos. swearing. mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is sober!! shitty writing and grammar mistakes.

*if I miss anything please let me know*

a/n: hey loves! I decided to make this post into a little series, this being the first of many to come. as you all know I’m not good at writing smut so please be kind to me! I hope you guys enjoy this little self indulgence piece!! I love you guys <3

I love everything you do,

When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do.

I wanna ride my bike with you,

Fully undressed, no trainin' wheels left for you,

I'll pull them off for you.

Walking out of the sanctuary of your room, you make your way over to the hallway mirror for one last makeup check. Running the tip of your tongue over your teeth, you check for any remnants of the red lipstick that sits on your lips. You check over the tips of your black eyeline to make sure they're still in place and not smudged.

With one last look you run your fingers through your hair, you head towards the door. Walking past the living room you see Eddie laying on the couch with his phone in his hand, more than likely scrolling on tik tok to pass the time.

"Hey Eds, I'm going out with the girls tonight. I'll probably be home late." You call over your shoulder as you collect your keys and purse from the kitchen island.

The sound of shuffling comes from behind you, the motions of your best friend pushing himself up from his slumped position. The nonresponse from the man behind you throws you off just a bit, quietly questioning why he hasn't said anything.

Turning around to face him, you have a hand back and forth to pull him out of his apparent stare. "Hellooo, earth to Eddie."

"S-sorry, what did you say?" Eddie stutters out as his eyes trace down the outline of your figure.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head in faux annoyance. "I said, I'm going out for drinks with the girls. I'll be home a little late."

Big brown pools snap up to your gaze and for once the intensity of his stare holds something you can't understand.

"Whatever." He snaps at you pushing himself up from the couch, brushing past you to head to the kitchen where he grabs a beer.

The complete attitude change from your best friend rattles you completely, especially when he has never raised his voice at you over the many years of friendship.

Not wanting to let the little hiccup ruin the rest of your night, you grab your things and head towards the door.

From the moment the front door shuts, Eddie feels like his whole world has shattered. He wanted to smack himself for his icy demeanor towards you, for snapping at you for no reason at all. Actually he did have a reason but that wasn't the point. The point was you were his best friend and you didn't deserve the passive aggressiveness from him.

It's not like he could control his emotions when you were wearing that sexy outfit. Your breasts sat so nicely in that red corset crop top and the little pudge of your tummy peaking out at the bottom was something close to an early Christmas present.

The sinful fishnets that wrapped around your plush thighs were just mocking him, laughing at his hardening cock. Then that tight little skirt, God did he hate it. He hated the way that it called out to him, begging him to rip it right off of your body.

Those plump lips he wished to kiss for years, were masked in a red tint from your lipstick. It disgusted him how he imagined ruining it, smudging it on your chin with the tip of his cock.

Eddie was angry with himself for thinking these things about his best friend, the girl that's been there with him through think and thin, the girl that's owned his heart from the moment he met her, and how he so badly wanted to fuck the ever living shit out of her.

To make matters worse, you were going to a bar. A bar that was probably filled with gross pricks that would try to get in your panties. He had to sit with the thought of you letting them take you home, how you'd giggle at their dumb jokes and how you'd moan so pretty as they slipped the tip in.

The whole time you were gone that's all he could think about, jealousy rushing through his veins and the green eyed monster rearing it's ugly head out of him. He sat on the couch all night, staring at the wall as he let all the thoughts get to him.

He needed to tell you how he felt and he needed to tell you now. So he waited and waited until you'd eventually stumble through the front door.

Creeping into the front door as quietly as you can, you kick your shoes off by the front door and set your purse and keys down on the kitchen island. Walking over to the fridge you grab a water bottle, putting the plastic rim to your lips and swallowing the cold crisp liquid hit your dehydrated tongue.

"You're home early." Eddie says quietly. Jumping slightly, you turn your attention to the living room where he sits on the couch, not bothering to look at you.

Swallowing the last of the water that sits in your mouth, you release a small breath. "Yeah, we didn't really feel like getting blacked out." You laugh slightly and clear your throat when you realize he still seems to be in his mood.

"Plus all the guys at the bar were busted, so." You shrug closing the cap on your bottle.

Rounding the counter, you make your way to your room not wanting to piss Eddie off anymore. To your surprise Eddie follows you, heavy footsteps hot on your trail as you open the door to your room.

"So you didn't talk to anyone?" His voice holds a certain kind of heat, like he's waiting for you to say the wrong answer.

Walking over to your dresser, you bend over to open the pajama drawer and grab the first oversized shirt you could find. "What if I did? You gonna punish me, dad?"

When you turn to face Eddie you see that his jaw is clenching and nostrils flaring with anger. Although you should ask him what his issue is and match his energy for being rude to you, you simply play into it. If he was going to be pissy with you, why not have fun with it?

"I mean there was this one guy, said I had the nicest lips he's ever seen." Your voice holds so much seduction you could work for a sex hotline, you think.

Walking over to him your stare is alluring, pulling him right into your whirlpool just to spit him back out a dazed man.

"Wanna know what else he said, Eds?" You ask with a pout, "He said that he couldn't wait to see how good they'd feel wrapped around him." You dance your fingers up his tee shirt teasingly.

Of course this wasn't true but he didn't need to know that. The thing was you wouldn't touch anyone with a ten foot pole, not when your heart belonged to your best friend. With that being said, you often had to resort to your own hand to take care of yourself while picturing the beautiful man in front of you. It's not like you could do it often when he just happened to be your roommate but it happened enough that you felt guilty for thinking about your best friend that way.

You watch as Eddie balls his hands into fists, knuckles turning white with how much force he does so. You know for a fact that he isn't jealous, he's probably mad about your lack of stranger danger and wants to lecture you about how it could be dangerous to you. To postpone that boring ten minute ramble, you add more fuel to the fire just for the hell of it.

You bat your lashes up at him, biting your lip as a giggle seeps out. "Want to know what else he said?"

When he doesn't answer you, you giggle at his pissed off expression before continuing your little performance.

"That's okay, I'll tell you anyway," Lifting on your tip toes, you place your lips right by his ear, "he said he couldn't wait to see how tight my pussy felt."

You slowly let yourself fall back onto your feet, staring up at him with a wide smirk. Before you can enjoy your victory of pissing him off Eddie's ringed hands grip the fat of your cheeks.

"You're real funny, princess, but I'll let you on a little secret," Bending slightly to be eye level with you, he grins widely at you like a hungry wolf. "That won't be happening any time soon, wanna know why?"

He uses the same tone on you and it makes your legs clench together in need, the thin fabric of your panties soaking from the gush of arousal he's making you feel.

Nodding the best you can, you mumble a yes through your squished lips.

"It's not gonna happen because you and I know that cunt is mine."

The way he says it makes your heart stop. There's not one ounce of question, no hint of laughter or a joke, just pure seriousness. You furrow your eyebrows complete befuddlement.

Eddie chuckles loudly, chest vibrating from the volume all while you still try to understand what he's implying.

"See, this is why I was so upset earlier," One of his fingers finds the low neckline of your top, lightly tracing right where it sits over your breasts, "You put on this sexy little outfit. Made me s'hard, sweetheart, and then you left me all by myself. S'not nice, is it?"

You shake your head and his lips spread to show his pretty white teeth. "That's right, baby. S'not nice but you did it anyway." He pouts, feigning sadness.

"Then you come home and mock me. I should punish you for being such a bad girl, what do you think?"

The threat and the ache between your thighs makes you whimper and he laughs sadistically at you.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Releasing his fingers just a bit, he gives you just enough room to move your lips to answer.

"Don’t wanna be punished, m’sorry." Your eyes begin to mist over with tears, the overwhelming emotions running through you ready to spill out right.

Jutting his lip out, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip smearing the pretty red onto your chin.

"Hmm I don't know if I believe you." Cocking his head to the side, he trails his eyes over misery that comes from your own.

"I swear I won't be bad anymore, j-just please." You beg as tears start to fall from your eyes.

To prove your point, you rack your nails over the growing bulge in his jeans. When a small moan rattles in the back of his throat and his eyes shut in pleasure, you take that as a sign to lightly squeeze it. The moment you do he hisses through gritted teeth, snapping his eyes back open.

"Get on the bed, baby." Not wanting to make him ask twice, you all but run over to your bed laying down at the head of the bed and let your head fall back on the pillows.

As he stalks over to you, he palms himself through his pants. The sight itself makes you wetter, causing you to clench your legs together tightly to quell the pulsing of your sex.

"Be a good girl and take your top of."

Leaning up, you scramble to get the article over your head just as he asked. Your breasts bounce from their confines, sitting a tad bit lower due to their size.

Embarrassment burns through you, anxiety rising the longer he stares at your bare chest and tummy. Snapping out of the moment just for a second, you pull your arms over your chest.

"I um, I'm sorry about all the stretch marks and stuff. I know it's not so appealing to have to look at all this so if you want me to put a shirt back on we can."

Your too ashamed to look at him, finding solace in the design on your bed's comforter. Out of the peripheral of your eyes you can see him moving towards you. Hesitantly he taps your legs, a silent ask of permission to have a seat. Shuffling your legs back just a bit, you give him enough room to sit.

The bed dips with his weight and the beat of your heart begins to go faster. His hand reaches out to you, his thumb and forefinger lightly grasping at your chin. Turning your head to look at him, you slowly move your eyes to where your head has been pulled to.

Eddie looks at you with kind eyes, the same ones you're so used to seeing. Brown eyes sparkling brightly under the low light of your bedside lamp.

"Baby, I promise you I love every single part of you."

"Everyone says that until it's all over and then they act like they don't know me because they're repulsed by the thought of their friends finding out they fucked the fat girl."

His face turns into a serious one, like he wants to jump up and fight whoever has made you feel self conscious.

"Well guess what, I love the shape of your body. Baby, I think you're the sexiest woman to have walked the face of the earth. You do realize you left me here with blue balls for over three hours right? Like I couldn't get rid of them no matter what I did."

You snort loudly and quickly slap a hand over your lips to hide the laughter that continues to spill from your mouth. Eddie raises his eyebrows in shock, grasping at his chest in mock hurt.

"What, you don't believe me? Well I will have you know that I have been blue balled by you over one thousand times in our friendship."

He promptly crosses his arms over his chest with a harrumph. You let the hand covering your mouth fall, now using it to swat at his chest with a bright smile.

"Shut the hell up, no I haven't" You laugh and he gapes at you.

"Um excuse you, yes you have," He swats back at you, "Why do you think Steve's mom's expensive hand towel went, huh?"

"That was you? Steve had a whole pity party over that thing, took him like sixth months to get over it." You gasp and he only shrugs.

"Not my fault I had to jerk off because you decided to wear that bathing suit. Besides I was doin' them a favor, imagine the horror on that woman's face when she found it dry from my cu-"

His sentence is cut off by your palm. You grimace lightly at the image he's painted for you in his words and it makes him chuckle under the weight of your hand. Then he starts licking all over your palm making you flinch back with a disgusted noise.

A belly laugh comes from him when he sees you wipe your hand on the clean comforter that covers your bed. When you look up at him with an unamused look, he only beams brightly at you with the hint of his dimples.

"As I was saying, I'd love nothing more than making the woman that own's my heart feel good. Will you let me?" He looks at you adoringly and you can't help but slip right into the comforting warmth of his eyes.

When you say yes, Eddie jumps from his sitting position with a fist in the sky. He pulls childish laugher from you as he continues to victory dance over your answer. After a moment he collects himself, clearing his throat before making a "very serious" face that only makes you laugh even harder.

Pulling his shirt over his head and letting his pants fall down to his ankles, he's only left in blue checkered boxers. Laying back down on your bed, you let your hands fall to the wayside so he can see all of you.

Tapping your knee once more, he doesn't have to ask you to part them for him since you're quick to do so. Settling himself between your thighs, he lets his eyes wander over the expanse of your body, the same one he'd dreamed of for years.

You do the same, using your eyes to trace over the ink that covers his chest, the same ones you prayed for all these years to touch. Your hand finds it's way to his face, cupping his cheek softly.

"You're so beautiful, Eddie." You want to tell him that he's so pretty you could cry but instead to decide to keep it to yourself, just for now.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing it to his lips and placing a delicate kiss on the same palm he'd licked only moments before.

"Thank you baby, but I think you're prettier." The sincerity in his voice makes butterflies appear in your tummy, all of them flapping about in joy.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, letting all the words you never got to say come out with just your eyes. The unwavering love that the two of you have for one another spills into this moment and fills both of your heats with the love they yearned for.

You're not sure who makes the first move but it doesn't matter, not when his lips fit so perfectly with yours. It's soft and loving at first, the two of you trying to memorize the way your lips feel together. Then you let your tongue sneak out just a little, asking for permission to enter his mouth and he quickly obliges.

With all the love and unspoken feelings out, the two of you go at it like hungry wolves. The desire, lust, and want mixing itself into the moment after years of waiting. Tongues dance in sync with each other, mapping out the one place it's always wanted to.

Then he grinds into you and you push your hips up to meet his motions, whining into his mouth loudly. Using your teeth you bite down on his lower lip, lightly pulling it back making him groan.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He pants using one of his hands to snake up to the harden bud of your nipple, pinching it roughly before groping the doughy flesh in his big palm.

You mewl at his touch, pushing your hips up once more to find any sort of friction to help with ache of your untouched clit. Eddie pulls away suddenly causing you to whine and pout. Chuckling and shaking his head, he uses his hands to shimmy your skirt over your hips.

"Relax, princess, I just wanna get a taste of this pretty cunt. I promise I'll give you what you want."

You try to close your legs but his hips stop you from doing so. Leaning up on your elbow quickly, you look at him with wide eyes.

"You don't um-, you can skip this part." It's frantic and it makes Eddie pull his hands off of you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something-" He can't finish his sentence before your cutting him off.

"No you didn't do anything wrong, it's just guys usually skip this part." You chew on the inside of your cheek.

Eddie's eyes also go wide, comically so. "You're telling me, all those pricks you've been with never ate you out?"

You shake your head instead of answering knowing your voice would ultimately fail you. He kisses his teeth and blows out a loud breath. "What a shame, those assholes didn't know what they had."

You roll your eyes even though a shy smile begins to show on your face. Still hesitant in his actions, Eddie looks at you for reassurance that you're comfortable.

"Listen, I don't have to do this if you don't want to, but just know if you think you're doing me a favor by saying I don't need to go down on you is nothing but a crime. You'd seriously be depriving me of the one thing on my bucket list."

The apples of your cheeks round even more with how hard your cheesing. Leaning up, you pull him into a soft kiss before laying back. Letting your thighs back open, you look up at him challenging.

"Show me what you got, big boy."

Smiling ecstatically, he shimmies himself down onto his stomach right between your legs. Using both hands he grabs at your fishnets, right where they sit over your center, and rips them making a large hole for himself.

Before you can chastise him for ruining your favorite tights, he peaks up over the hill of your belly, "I'll buy you another pair."

Going back down to his place, he runs his finger tip over your thong covered slit. You jolt from the small amount of pressure of his finger making him stifle a laugh.

"Jesus, you're soaking." He says quietly while still running back and forth over your dampened panties.

Pulling them to the side, he pulls the fat of your lips apart to get a good look at your glistening sex. When he runs the tip of his tongue from your hole to your clit, you lift your hips once more.

Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he keeps you in your place against the best. He does the same thing again but this time he uses his whole tongue.

"You taste s'good, s'my new favorite meal." It's muffled due to the cushion of your thighs but you still hear it.

Sobbing in need, you try to shimmy yourself into his touch. Getting the message, he dives back in shoving the warm muscle right into your tight hole.

Flicking his tongue in and out of you, he removes one of his hands from your thighs and pulls it back down to your cunt, using his thumb to swirl around your aching clit.

"S-shit, just like that." You encourage him, moaning even louder when he switches his tongue and fingers.

With two of his fingers now filling you up, crooked just right and his tongue circling around your clit, you feel the burn in your belly. When he hits the sponge spot you can't reach yourself, you all but scream out in euphoria.

Pulling off your bundle of nerves with a pop, he looks up at you with a Cheshire Cat grin.

"Is that the spot, baby? S'it feel good when I hit right there?"

You can't answer him, too lost in the feeling of his fingers. You toss your head back and forth, babbling and moaning from the feeling.

"Awe, I haven't even fucked you yet and I got you all dumb. Isn't that right, honey? I got you stupid just from my two fingers?" His voice is cocky and it makes you clench around him harder than before.

"Y-yes, don't s-stop. Please don't stop." Your voice trembles and cracks but you don't care.

Doing as you asked, Eddie pulls your clit back into his mouth and pumps his fingers even faster into you. Your getting closer and closer to the edge, toeing right at the finish line of your orgasm.

Your hand finds it's way to the back of Eddie's head, pulling the curly hair at the roots. A loud moan comes rips right out of his chest, vibrating your clit that's he sucks on.

That's all it takes for your toes to curl and your back arch off the bed. Eddie's name falls off your lips like a sacred prayer until you can't speak anymore. You're completely catapulted into cloud nine, floating high up above in pure bliss.

Eddie's voice pulls you back into reality, helping you come back into your body where your bones have completely melted into your bed.

Now leaning over you, Eddie pushes your sweat soaked hair out of your face and places delicate kisses on your wet skin.

"You did so good for me, honey. Such a good girl for me." He's gentle when he speaks and it calms the erratic beat of your heart.

"Kiss?" You rasp out and he gives in with a small snort at the mess you've become.

Pulling away quicker than you'd like, he looks down at you with a dopey smile.

"You feelin alright?" Nodding you push your hips back up to meet his covered shaft, and he laughs breathlessly. "Alright, alright, I'm gettin' there."

You giggle up at him and he's quick to peck your lips once more.

"You're so fuckin' pretty when you laugh." It's so soft, like he's letting you in on a secret no one else knows and in that moment you melt completely.

When he leans back on his haunches, he begins to look around your room and you realize what he must be searching for.

"I'm clean and I have the iud, so if you're comfortable you don't have to use a condom." The moment you finish your statement Eddie closes his eyes tightly, scrunching his face up like he's pained.

"Sweetheart, you can't say things like that unless you want me to blow my load right now." Opening his eyes, he looks at you with a straightest face.

You clap your hands over your cheeks as you burst with laughter. "I didn't even say anything!" You exclaim.

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, he begins to shimmy his boxers down his legs. "I didn't even say anything, shut up." He mocks throwing his boxers to the floor.

Leaning over you once again, he uses on arm that's he's bracing himself with to line himself up to your hole. Guiding the tip of his cock through your folds, he swirls your wetness around before nudging the entrance.

"Once we do this, we can't go back to being just friends." He gazes at you trying to catch any hint of hesitation from you.

Instead you smile fondly at him, "I don't want to go back to being just friends."

His lips stretch into a smile and his eyes sparkle with warmth. "Good because I don't think I'd be able to after this."

Going ever so slowly, he pushes himself into you causing you to gasp at the intrusion. You've had sex before but Eddie is bigger than anyone you've ever had, the stretch from him is unlike anything you've ever felt.

Using his free hand, he swirls your clit to help with any uncomforting feelings you feel. "I know, baby, you can take it." The reassurance causes a spark to run through your veins.

Pushing himself all the way in, he waits to start moving so you can get accustom to him. When you give him a nod, he begins to pump into you at a faster pace than before. Looking down at you, he watches as your mouth falls open into the perfect O shape.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Better than I could have imagined." His words make you clench around him and he whimpers loudly from the feeling.

Eddie pushes your thighs up to your tummy causing him to go even deeper, hitting that sweet spot only he can find.

"Oh my God." You cry out loudly and Eddie lets a breathless laugh fall from his lips.

"M'not God, baby, but I'll shit-, I'll take it as a compliment."

"F-faster Eds, please. Wanna cum, wanna cum s'bad." Your eyes begin to prick with tears with how good you feel.

Eddie obliges, thrusting faster than before. The slapping of skin and the squelch of your wet cunt fill your room. The pretty moans and whimpers that fall from the man on top of you ring out in your ears and in this moment you wish you could record them.

"You take me so well, s'like you're made for me."

You can't say anything, too wrapped up in the live wire that you've become. The rubber band in the pit of your stomach is pulling tighter and tighter with every pump of his cock, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

"This pretty cunt is mine. Say it sweetheart, say it's- fuck, say it's mine." Eddie demands.

"S'yours, it's yours, Eds." You cry.

Removing one of his arms that sit next to your head, he goes back to thumbing at your clit causing you to grip onto him harder.

"This body, those lips, your heart, they're mine. Say you're mine, baby. I'm all yours, have been from the beginning, now say I'm yours." It's not a demand but more of a plea.

Your mind is reeling, the feeling of Eddie is everywhere and your heart has finally found it's rightful place with it's rightful owner.

"It's all yours, s'all yours. Always has been." You shout as tears begin to roll down your face. "I'm gonna cum, m'gonna cum. Want you to cum too, Eds, want it inside me."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up? Want my cum to drip out of you so everyone knows who you belong to?" He grits out and that's all it takes for you to wail.

You release around him, gripping his cock tightly as you gush around him. Eddie isn't too far behind you, spilling his warm seed inside of you.

With one final grunt and thrust, Eddie collapses on top of you. The two of you sit for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch your breathing. Pushing himself up on his knees, he slowly pulls out of you causing the two of you to hiss out at the same time.

He sits for a moment watching his spend fall from your still clenching hole before pushing it back in with his fingers. When he's done with that, he leans over the side of your bed and picks of his shirt and wipes off the mess between your legs.

"Please do not tell me you're using your shirt to clean cum off of me." You deadpan as you stare at the ceiling.

Eddie snorts using the now soiled shirt to wipe himself off. "I mean I could use Mrs. Harrington's-"

"Absolutely not." You shout, pushing yourself up balancing on the palms of your hands.

The two of you fall into a fit of giggles, the fuzziness of your afterglows clearly in effect. After they die down, the two of you sit in silence unsure of what comes next.

Moving your legs to the side of your bed, you push yourself up from the bed. "I'm going to go shower but if you'd like, you're more than welcome to join, lover boy." You announce over your shoulder, picking up the discarded sleep shirt from before.

"Oh no, it's- I'll just stay." He stutters nervously and a part of you wants to tease about where his confident side went.

"Suit yourself," You shrug, "but just know you'll be missing this." Picking up the back part of your skirt, you show him your fishnet and thong covered ass.

When you look back over your shoulder you see him with a fresh coat of pink colored flush coating his cheeks, staring unbashful wide eyed at your behind.

Feeling like you haven't teased him enough, you shimmy your backside causing it to ripple in movement. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way." You say as you walk towards the door.

Springing from the bed, Eddie wraps you in a bearlike hug from behind. "Nuh uh, I have to come with you now."

Pushing back on him with your rear, you continue to shake your ass against his hardening length. His hand cracks down hard on the doughy flesh making you squeal in shock.

"Fuck I love this ass. Can't wait to see you do that under the water." He teases biting his tongue.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you place a kiss to his lips. "Whatever my baby wants, my baby gets."

Turning back on your heel, you pull him by the arm guiding you to the bathroom with you.

"Hell yeah I'm your baby," He pumps his fist in the air then clears his throat quickly to play off his dorky celebration. "I mean you might have to let everyone know cause if I do it, it won’t be pretty.”

"Alright Rocky Balboa, lets get in this shower so I can so you what it looks like from the back."

Thank you all for reading! love you all <3

-

-

-

-

[deathzgf]

( almost ) all of my sketches & wips from ~ 5 november 12023 - now

vaguely oldest - newest but i am lowk just fuck it we balling it

ogay let ' s go

shitty hamlet hamilton thing to start us off yay based off of that one line in the musical

thomas jefferson

i cannae remember if this was meant to be sj or cami but Pony

GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD

me versus drawing sj with a Fuck Ton of piercings ( the demons )

kill

This Fucking THING

holy fucking shit my first napolexander art

yeah

i drew this whilst rewatching 2023 napoleon in cinema Based upon a 2002 napoleon scene

james fitzjames

shkroeder please i have a wife and kids

ekkochoso

i hate his stupid fucking hair so i drew a cat with him

i love my wife i forgive her for almost killing me

thomas jefferson getting high with the french except rousseau keels over and dies whilst robespierre just Oh Dear

idk why i drew the social contract that thick brah

based upon a twitter interaction i had with the owners of these ocs

what the fuck is going on in the upper right corner

different jules times ( 1789 , 1793 ( ? ) , 1794 )

calijules i drew on the plane to japan

i also watched succession on the plane . catboys & catgirls You ' re welcome

turn washington ' s spies hewlett sorry i am the # 1 annalett yuri truther

jules ref sketch i forgot to fucking crop

sleepy calijules

violent calijules

freak

+

[justworthlessreblogs]

the evolution of cure paradise and cure lune, 2017-2025

cure justice already got her own post but i wanted to share paradise and lune as well because They Are My Blorbo OCs Your Honor. just like justice, they've gone through a lot of changes (especially lune)

i'll start with paradise first:

the very first image of cure paradise in existence, from the same day as cure justice, december 29 2017. i am SO sorry about the horrible photo quality this is a photo that was taken that same day, late at night, on a shitty iphone 5 and i don't have the sketchbook it's in with me right now to get a better one. she's had basically the same exact hairstyle since. her eyes look Like That because i was trying to copy the dokidoki style at the time (and had no idea how it worked)

the first fullbody, and in color! this one is dated december 31 2017. for some reason cherry blossoms were a huge motif originally and i don't know why. i think i just really liked cherry blossoms (i still do)

this one's from april 2018. there's a new costume variation up in the top left corner, but what's really interesting to me is that there's a baton like justice's (except with star toppers insteadof a fleur-de-lys) in this image even though i know for a fact she was planned to have a bow as her weapon from the start. maybe i thought about changing it and decided against it

also from april 2018, her in the dolldivine sailor moon oc maker. same day as justice

july 2018. this one features the most notable change to her hair, which i was trying to figure out in this image: should i keep the loops around the base of her pigtails or change them to a more star-like shape to go with her motif? i ended up going with the star shape. AND THEN CURE STAR TOOK THEM LESS THAN A YEAR LATER BUT I REFUSE TO CHANGE THEM ONCE AGAIN I WAS THERE FIRST TOEI!!!

this one also features the earliest (from what i can tell) appearance of her cropped jacket that resembles justice's except it's open. that's important too

also from july 2018, her in the glitter cure maker! this yellow/gold/brown color scheme stuck around for a long time. i honestly kind of dig it i wouldn't mind using it for a yellow cure in the future

paradise also got a design in the style of the puzzlun sprites, but i sadly never took a photo and the sketchbook with it is at home. if i remember to take a photo next time i'm there and update this i will but no promises

glitter cure maker v2, circa november 2018

since i hit a lull in precure art soon after this, there's more gaps. once again the only thing she got in 2020 was her as a funko pop

the brown has become orange

finally, in october 2022, we've reached her final design! she's got green now, since i felt that green made a lot of sense as a sub color for a cure with a very tropical name. there's actually a traditional art ref slightly older than this image but ONCE AGAIN I DIDN'T TAKE A PHOTO CURSE YOU PAST JUSTIE. anyways. i realized that now that i had a slightly more advanced program than ms paint (firealpaca) i could draw over memes now and could become unstoppable. so here she is with a bazooka because she deserves it

finally, a more recent image - her as a precoord, from july 2024. after i got my first precoord i went on a precoord kick in my sketchbook designing hypothetical precoords for my cure ocs. i love precoords so much you guys they're one of my favorite pieces of merch ever

next up, lune!

our first art of her, from december 31, 2017, and unlike the others she got color! the dress is uh. something, though i do like the boots. as you can see from the very start she was intended to be a bit of a grump

from a few weeks later (january 20, 2018) we have this one. lune i am so sorry i am not sure what is going on here

from april 2018, here she is in the sailor moon oc maker

i found this in my photo album and i'm 99% sure it was intended to be yet another attempt at figuring out at least a basis of a design for her. it's dated may 2018. why are her eyes red now? i have no idea

from july 2018, lune in glitter cure. this is the first time she's had her hair down and worn a bow, which would become a regular thing later on

lune's v2 glitter cure, november 2018. i kind of like the red, though it unfortunately it didn't last

finally. in 2020. i found a design i liked. it originated when i was drawing the modpre girls as funko pops.

i later sketched it out with normal proportions (and notes on what colors to use):

after i was done i was like. wait shit. her hair looks like cure marine's. but i was so happy to finally have a design i was satisfied with i didn't care enough to change it

digital lune! this was traced over a star twinkle precure screenshot in january 2023 (the blue cure in the background is cure borealis from my fanseason northern lights). i got really into tracing over precure screenshots my freshman year of college since i had time to kill, a computer mouse, and thought it was really fun seeing my cures in the precure art style. this is actually one half of a "cures as tumblr posts" thing, the other half was cure ghost from supernatural precure asking a question about mirror people

and here she is in july 2024 as a precoord

as some bonuses, here's the five star dressup cards i drew for them in 2022 and 2023, as well as some of my favorite group pieces!

justice's 5 star

paradise's 5 star

lune's 5 star

moderation's weezer era, november 2023. and if you never saw the original post, yes that is cure black on the left. she got a new outfit

a moderation soundtrack cover, november 2022

and finally papepipu moderation, february 2023

[lover-of-mine]

I keep thinking about the Tommy leaving post and the Buddie being ready for each other post and I feel like there's a comparison I want to make here but I'm not sure exactly what it is but something about Tommy leaving because he was not down with that whole mess of date, understandably, but also Buck's boatload of issues still even tho Tommy came back & they're in this "maybe this could be the something I'm ready for" & potential issues that might crop up going forward like will Buck be hesitant still or dive headfirst or some combination, will Tommy feel like it's too much or just not working, will it be the thing that finally makes something click in Buck's head that he needs to go to therapy bc hey Tommy is different from his exes but the issues are still the same idk or he decides it's not working bc it's not the thing he wants but he's ready to figure that out so again therapy! but also when he realizes he's in love with Eddie & they could be it for each other he knows he doesn't want to make those same mistakes and the way to do that is to be honest with himself and Eddie and it's not perfect but they're both in it and self enough aware they know they can make it work together (therapy would be so good but also Maddie or Bobby have some wisdom here too) like a desperation almost of I love him and I want him and this is it for me but I'm so scared of losing it all and it's like well. What are you gonna do about it? Are you gonna let yourself have this? I read a fic today where when they were discussing starting something but Buck was scared Eddie was like "we deserve to be happy too and being with you makes me happy" and that's all I want now okay sorry this is so long and probably makes no sense but I didn't know who to send it to I can stop rolling it all in my head over and over again send help or a sedative my god they make me feral and all these new ttpd edits are making it 10000x more

Okay, I see what you mean, and I am team Buck/Therapy first and foremost, but let's discuss Tommy outside the perfect queer Yoda people seem to have put him in. First of all, Tommy didn't come back, the energy that exists there is that there would be no second date if Buck didn't ask him for coffee (and Buck only called because Eddie told him to). I don't blame Tommy for walking away, the situation Buck put him in is shitty, but he did not come back, he indulged Buck in a coffee for whatever reason I don't understand. I don't understand why someone would agree to go to someone's sister's wedding after one kiss and half a date they walked out of. But what I'm getting from Tommy is that he's not gonna put up with Buck's bullshit just because he's cute. And Buck is diving in head first, asking someone to be your date to your sister's wedding after half a date where they left you on the curb when he's out to exactly 2 people is somehow crazier than buying furniture with Natalia, because at least there he had what? 3 successful dates under his belt? Buck is in the hamster wheel, this time with a guy. Dating a guy is bringing him clarity in some aspects of his life, but he is still showing the same patterns when it comes to dating. Will he break out of his pattern this time? Who the fuck knows. Realizing he's repeating these patterns and letting go before he gets in too deep, realizing he needs to work on himself, would be a major sign of growth from him, but Tommy pointing something out and making him take action works too, but I don't know what or how that could be approached. I was talking about this with someone last week, I'm pretty sure i sent them a voice note of like, 12 minutes on this, but do we trust Buck to separate the way he's infatuated from what he actually needs? That his bisexuality is his no matter what? Because I don't. If he's still that insecure about Eddie when Eddie has been stable in his life the whole time they've known each other, then I don't trust him with anything emotional, really. Could he wake up one day and realize maybe it was about Eddie, see what's in front of him and proceed to work through his insecurities? Sure, they could go there, especially with how intertwined Eddie is to bucktommy, make Buck realize his feelings, work through his insecurities somehow and realize he needs to talk to Eddie and that they will be okay no matter what. But the thing is, Eddie loves Buck too much. Like the post said, he loves Buck at his own detriment, so if Buck goes all weird on him for whatever reason again (which he probably would if he realizes he might be in love with Eddie, he would panic, 705 Buck would freak out if realized he's in love with Eddie) he's gonna internalize that, and that's something they need to address before there is any movement into making them romantic.

Because now that there's a real chance buddie is gonna go canon, they need to address some problems that were created between them, mainly the way they assume things about each other a lot instead of having an open conversation. All they need is an open conversation, I will accept if the show magically decides they can talk to each other now, that the issue was the denial, but Buck needs to ask for shit, he needs to talk when he's insecure, he needs to not let Eddie get away with assuming he's right, and Eddie needs to stop assuming he can read Buck's mind, he needs to call Buck out when he's getting in his head, and he needs to stop trying to fix past mistakes with someone else, they need to actually be able to address things that hurt them, because they will hurt each other, the question is how they work through the problems. Dating your best friend, even more after being best friends for this long comes with issues, the adjustment would be intense because they have an intense relationship already. And they both need to let go of the idealized version of what a relationship should look like they have. Can Tommy help Buck there? Yeah, absolutely, but he also shouldn't be expected to hold a grown man's hand through his own feelings, yk? Buck doesn't know what he wants and he's working through it, allegedly, so, like, there's potential there but I have no idea how this can unfold tbh. They need to get to the point where they're like "I deserve happiness" but also realizing that happiness doesn't look the way they think it does, that it's never gonna be perfect, but that it is worth fighting for, you don't find it, you make, works here too, but the thing is, you need to keep making it as long as you're together, love is not all it takes, the fight never stops. I've been thinking about this a lot too.

[lookingforyn]

Got a odd one tumbling in my head- Sorry if it sounds too silly! Also I dunno how many characters you accept in a single ask, so in case like all of the THH boys is too much-

Can I ask for Kiyotaka, Mondo, and Makoto with a Ultimate Farmer!SO who is bad at flirting? Like they want to impress their friend/crush, and what's the first thing that comes to mind to gift them?

A self-made and aged cheese wheel worth thousands! They gotta match their adoration in weight, and a cheese wheel is pretty heavy!

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SOOOO MUCH YESSS!!!!!

Makoto Naegi, Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Mondo Owada X utimate farmer gifting them a cheese wheel

SFW, headcannon format, fluff, gender neutral reader, killing game setting

━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━

Makoto Naegi

•He likes to hear stories about what farm life is like. It’s impressive to him about how much you know about crops and animals, although that type of life is DEFINITELY not for him.

•So he was a bit confused when you brought up helping you out with roping cattle after expressing his opinion on how a guy like him would probably burn the place down by accident

•”I’d love to see how well you do with my cattle. Uhh I mean with my help, I mean you’d probably be awful so you could just watch me do it. OH MY GOD I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY IT LIKE THAT JUST FORGET WHAT I SAID!!”

•You just wanted to spend time with him but every time you brought up things to do with him at your farm, everything you could conjure up in your head was met with the worse possible outcome due to Makoto’s lack of skill

•Then one idea stuck with you… a giant cheese wheel

•You knocked on his door early in the morning your eyes had sprinkles of joy in them ready for his reaction to be out of this world. Who didn’t like cheese?…unless he was vegan or vegetarian or worse… lactose intolerant

•You were so nervous your hands started to sweat profusely in anticipation of embarrassment by your own making. Makoto opened the door a soft yawn escaping him as he did so

•”Makot! I uh- I-!!” You suddenly lost control of the wheel it quickly rolling into Makoto the weight of it all pushing him onto the ground. “I’M SO SORRY!! LET ME HELP YOU!” You quickly pushed it out of the way, with all the work you have to do from your talent unlike Makoto you’ve built up quite the strength

•”Wow Y/N what happened?!” He said sitting up from the floor. He then saw thw cheese wheel laying on the ground beside him. “Is that… cheese?” He said standing up to examine the piece of dairy. “I wanted to gift you something you’d enjoy but I got so worked up I wasn’t thinking about if you even ate dairy, sorry about running you over with it I di-“ “It’s huge!!” He shouted thw fragrance making his mouth melt

•”You… like my gift?” You said not sure if his remark was a compliment or an insult. “I love it! Hey can you grab some crackers or whatever you have with this we can eat some together for breakfast!” “Together?…” you said to yourself softly “Yea definitely! I’ll be right back I’ll get some drinks too!” You said in excitement. You were right, who didn’t love cheese?

Mondo Owada

•You worked up a good sweat in the kitchen your arms feeling more jacked then ever since being forced into this “school”

•The aroma of delicious and delicate cheese covering the kitchen head to toe like it always does whenever you make your famous family’s cheese wheel

•It made you feel like home, like in this shitty place a part of the farm came along with you

•While reminiscing of the life you could be living at this very moment, you didn’t even notice that the wheel of cheese started to roll out of the kitchen and into the arms of Mondo Owada

•Your lucky he caught it before it knocked him off his feet. “What the fuck! What is this?” He shouted lifting it up to investigate this circle of death

•”That would be mine!” You said rushing over to him. “You made this whole thing in the fuckin kitchen? Do you have another talent you’re not telling us? What’s next a godamn rocket scientist?” You laughed at his dramatic comment. “No it’s just a recipe I was taught through my family, this baby is a cheese wheel it makes us a lot of money.”

•”Well I don’t think cheese should be this heavy.” He threw it over his shoulder walking over to the kitchen but you stopped him by tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. “I got it but thanks!” You took it off of his shoulder and into your hands hurrying back to the kitchen Mondo following close behind

•”Holy shit.” He said to himself “What?” You carefully placed it onto the ground not wanting another accident to occur. “I didn’t know you could lift all that.” You started to clean up your mess not expecting for this compliment to be thrown your way. “Yea well farm life is not easy there’s a lot of physical labour involved.”

•You blushed luckily your body wasn’t facing Mondo for him to see. “When you’re done, you and me in the gym I’m gonna push you pasts your limit.” You turned and smiled excitingly. “I count on it.”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

•”You’ve never had a big fresh thing of cheese before?!” You asked him making conversation over breakfast before the rest of the class came for the daily morning meeting. “I’ve never had a big fresh thing of cheese before no. But I have had cheese before in the many varieties such as cheddar, parmigiana, gouda, American, Swiss-“

•As he kept listing cheeses all you could think of his lit up face as you walk in with the biggest wheel of cheese he’s ever seen in his life. You waited for him to finish up while eating the rest of your food “Oh and blue cheese!” He said ending his dairy rant.

•That same day you made sure to spice it up extra for him throwing in the best of the best in there (at least what you could find in the kitchen)

•The time came and your nerves were running high but that also included your anticipation. “You’ll love it Taka!” You said as your hands covered his eyes. “Are you ready?” He nodded energetically

•”3.. 2…. 1!” Your heart sank from what you were seeing. The wheel you’ve spent so much time and effort on had fallen apart crumbs of cheese scattered around the table that you left your then in tacked cheese wheel was placed upon. “Taka I’m so so sorry I, we’ll I tried to make you your first cheese wheel to try and I guess I got distracted and-“

•He grabbed a handful of cheese crumbs and stuffed it into his mouth fast and swiftly. “….WOW!!!” He looked to have stars in his eyes as he grabbed another handful. “THIS IS FANTASTIC I LOVE IT!!” You were taken back by his reaction but you were definitely not disappointed. “Really?” You asked “OF COURSE I WOULD NEVER LIE ABOUT SUCH AN AMAZING TALENT THANK YOU Y/N!!!” He said bowing over and over again to you. “I’ll pour some drinks.” He smiled at you more excitedly than a little kid on Christmas. He has such an amazing smile.