#two times faster

[moon-doodle]

i got headaches on headaches on headaches all day

[shotmrmiller]

instead of ivf or natural conception, i need neighbor!ghoap jerk themselves off in front of you and then stuff their cum into your pussy with their fingers cuz they refuse to fuck you unless you're gagging for it and they don't care to leave you a shaking, sticky mess after either.

you wanted their sperm so that's all you're getting. unless you ask nicely.

[mobius-m-mobius]

(i n / s p)

[baconplasm]

(hands them over)

[buttercupshands]

rewatched Kurogiri's holiday story from ultra impact (not related to sketch at all)

(but it did inspire me)

on another note

finally!!

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[thechibilitwick]

don’t you hate it when this guy name kirisaki shidou comes over and just starts shidouing all over the place

[shaadowmilkcookie]

he

[front-facing-pokemon]

[corrodedcoughin]

From the outside Eddie presents as a person with very little care for the opinions of others. This however is a shield, an armour class so high that no roll is beating him. Or so he likes to think. Truth is, it's shitty armour that would dissolve in water. But he can't let anyone know that. Needs to keep up appearances, needs to keep performing. 

This would all be fine if it weren't for the fact that Steve Harrington is aiming a metaphorical water pistol at his heart at point blank range. 

When did it start? Oh, who knows! 

Eddie knows, oh Eddie knows alright. Shamefully it wasn't even a mind-meltingly-he’s-so-hot-take-me-now moment that made Eddie's weevil brain latch onto the idea of Steve and never let go. No. It was during lunch period, because is there really a more romantic setting to have your heart shattered and reformed into the image of your new love? You see Eddie was attacked! Ambushed by his feelings! The traitors! He was mid conversation with Jeff about the best unconventional food combinations. Eddie was arguing for bananas with sliced cheese and was not being given a fair hearing on the matter when he turned his head at the most inopportune moment. The moment that ruined everything. Because in that head swivel Eddie saw Steve being Steve. He saw 'The Hair' without the mask. Steve had been tapped on the shoulder by one of his sport boys and had turned around to display a perfectly normal serious face. Except, on that serious face was two carrot sticks placed in his mouth like walrus tusks before he decided to further ruin Eddie by breaking out in the most disgustingly beautiful fit of laughter. Then! Then he had the audacity to take the sticks out and shove them up his nose. This was complete idiot behaviour and Eddie had never been more endeared in his life. Fuck. 

'Ground control to Munson, anyone in there?' Before Eddie could register what was happening Gareth had appeared from behind and started knocking on Eddie's head. Gareth could try all he wanted, Eddie was in a severe case of ooey gooey heart eyes over The Societal Norm that was Steve Harrington. 

'You okay man? You look vaguely constipated. More than usual I mean. You eat too many of those vitamin gummies again?' Gareth had taken a seat next to Eddie now and was promptly swapping out their lunch trays. His chocolate pudding to Eddie, Eddie's vanilla to Jeff and two applesauces to Ian. In return Gareth got an extra pretzel, no sweet tooth on that boy, which they all agreed was concerning and confirmed their theory that Gareth did not have earthly origins. 

'Dude shut up. And anyway it was ONE time. AND WHO TOLD YOU?' He didn't mean to shout but when a man's bowel's movements are brought up in a public setting what else is he to do? And...and oh no. Oh no, no. Eddie had turned back to get another sneaky look at Steve and was met by the whole table staring back. The whole table including Steve. Steve that was now making eye contact with Eddie while smiling in a deliciously confused way. Delicious?? Why was he giving Steve food adjectives? Who was he becoming? Next thing he'll be wanting to take a bite out of him!...maybe...maybe that wasn't such a bad idea actually, file that in his ‘think about later’ box.

'Harrington is totally staring at you. Eddie stop looking at him, stop! Do not engage with them! I swear to god I just want one lunch without drama!' Jeff said, finally breaking into Eddie's consciousness. 

Feeling himself going bright red Eddie returned to his body just as Steve waved with a carrot stick in hand. Bright red was now a thing of the past. Eddie's face was crimson. Eddie’s entire body could probably be used as a beacon for airplanes looking to land. Eddie's only option now was to seek employment as a court jester in order to make use of his permanently altered complexion.  Internally screaming, and maybe very quietly outwardly screaming too, Eddie swivelled abruptly in his seat. Fixed his gaze on the table in front of him and absolutely did not think about pretty Steve looked with a vegetable stuck in his face holes. Except he did and didn’t stop thinking about it for a long time.

[7cfc00]

could i req a sparrow.... perhaps in a cute outfit. if i was wrong and requests arent open feel free to ignore this <3

yeah sure heres the guy!!! hes so mother coded

[snazzi-strawberri-artz]

AUGHH CLASS ASSIGNMENT YIPPEEE!!! Had to make cut out silhouette designs for 3 of our characters!!!

[waterme-stories]

My Top Blorbos of 2023!

Thanks @virgo-dream for the fun template! And @bil-daddy for keeping it surreal.

(and very big thank you to the folks in the Spiderpool and Cablepool and @ageplay-may servers. This year was a Lot and y'all kept me sane and engaged with the world.)

[petrichorium]

I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT EX HUSBAND SHANKS 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Okay I was thinking a relationship that’s like SUPER chill and casual. Like literally fuckbuddies turned lovers; u stay on ur home island and he’s off most of the time. Was based close by in the first year or two y’all met and got close so he was around more often but eventually it becomes him stopping by every few months for a few weeks and the two of you keeping up contact while he’s gone. The progression from just messing around to a committed relationship is slow and largely unsaid until Beckman tells you his captain has turned down every other woman for the past two years and you realize you aren’t much searching for other men yourself; soon enough you’ve got matching rings and as untraditional as it is it works.

And I’m just thinking abt how like…….. ur happy w ur life on ur little island, it’s relatively safe all things considered under his protection and you’ve lived there your whole life and all you rlly wanna do is keep your head down and stay there. Getting involved with Red-Haired Shanks puts a major flaw in that plan but it’s easy to forget who exactly he is. He doesn’t hide it, ofc not, but he’s so… unremarkable seeming that it’s difficult to remember, especially when your interaction with him is isolated to a scant few days or weeks when he’s most at ease and the only thing he’s thinking about is you.

But………. then you’re reminded otherwise. It’s silly really, because of course you know. It’s been years since you first met him, you’ve seen the wanted posters and you’ve heard how people talk about him, but knowing in abstract—contrasted by the man who’s managed to marry you, all wide smiles and incessant drunken love confessions and never dodging a well-placed swat from your hand—is far different from seeing in person.

You board his ship for a little trip; something small, only a few days to go retrieve a gift for you that Shanks had foolishly left a few islands away, low-risk and entirely in his territory. But it all goes sideways and you’re forced, quite suddenly, to realize just who you’ve managed to fall for—and exactly what kind of power and prestige he wields—while trapped with nowhere to go but remain on his ship with him and his crew for the days it takes to return.

You feel stupid more than anything, balking like this after one (frankly minuscule) fight. You don’t leave his cabin the whole trip back. He brings you meals, holds you when he can, tells you how much the crew misses you, but he doesn’t understand just how much you’re questioning. How much, you wonder, do you really know Shanks? Bordering on ten years is quite some time but when you only see him a scant few weeks out of those years, how much does it matter?

The ring on your finger, the way he looks at you—they settle on your shoulders more like a noose now, no longer making you giddy. How long until some bitter rival of his storms your home searching for you because they can’t touch him?

How much is he worth it when the lives of everyone in your hometown stand at risk?

You’re smart enough not to pick the fight until you’ve returned. You have it at the door of your home, long overdone and frankly terrified, all but melting down once you’re truly alone with him for the first time in a week. He doesn’t yell back—doesn’t do much, after attempts at soothing you fail, except watch you with a mildly surprised expression on his face.

For the first time in years you don’t let him stay the night, or see him off when he leaves the following day. You sit up on your roof and watch his ship disappear over the horizon and assure yourself that clearly you aren’t cut out for being his.

(But two months later that ship appears again, and an hour after docking there’s a knock at your door, and you can’t help how your breath hitches when you see that red hair beyond the peephole…)

[wren-kitchens]

oh, another day, another sunset

2659 words

there are not nearly enough things to do inside, and those activities that do exist have all been completed at least five times over by now. honestly, joel is considering just going outside and seeing how far he can get before he dies—he guesses the base of the mountain at least, if he sprints. of course, no one else is suffering the same boredom as he is because the deadly weather outside is just rain. honestly, being a blaze is fun until it starts raining and you can’t do anything before it stops.  maybe joel should have based closer to the water, since he’d at least be able to fish for the time being. not that fishing sounds like the most entertaining thing in the world, but it’d beat just sitting around doing nothing. somehow more annoyingly, he can’t even do anything relaxing, like take a bath, because joel had the stupid idea of building most of his base out of very flammable wood, and if he tried to pour lava anywhere near the houses, they’d burn immediately. not to mention how many naps he’s already tried to take only for them to last ten minutes at most.

if this is a bit weird and clunky or the pacing is off then you will have to forgive me because I have been working on this pain in the ass since joel's first video on hermitcraft

me when depression makes my life harder (no one saw this coming)

there are not nearly enough things to do inside, and those activities that do exist have all been completed at least five times over by now. honestly, joel is considering just going outside and seeing how far he can get before he dies—he guesses the base of the mountain at least, if he sprints. of course, no one else is suffering the same boredom as he is because the deadly weather outside is just rain. honestly, being a blaze is fun until it starts raining and you can’t do anything before it stops. 

maybe joel should have based closer to the water, since he’d at least be able to fish for the time being. not that fishing sounds like the most entertaining thing in the world, but it’d beat just sitting around doing nothing. somehow more annoyingly, he can’t even do anything relaxing, like take a bath, because joel had the stupid idea of building most of his base out of very flammable wood, and if he tried to pour lava anywhere near the houses, they’d burn immediately. not to mention how many naps he’s already tried to take only for them to last ten minutes at most.

the most entertaining thing joel has come up with to do is to watch the raindrops slide down the window in some desperate attempt to keep from dying of boredom. sure; he could just message one of the other hermits and ask if they’d keep him company but- well, they’re all definitely busy. joel is busy- or would be, if he weren’t trapped inside, so he can’t imagine how busy everyone else is. 

to be honest- he can't really imagine it because he hasn't exactly asked anyone if they’re busy or not. it isn’t- it’s not like joel is embarrassed about it—of course not! these are his friends, it's not like they'd be freaked out or something if joel asked them to hang out. in fact, he’s been hanging out with loads of people, and just because they asked him first doesn’t mean he couldn’t be the one to ask them. in theory. 

joel is so engrossed in his own thoughts that it takes him a long second to notice that as he was staring at raindrops, a figure has appeared in the street. and- not just anyone, but etho.

panicking a little, joel ducks away from the window and into the corner of the room, where he attempts to look nonchalantly at a book he scrambled to grab at the last second. he realises, a moment too late, that the book is upside down. shit.

“oh- joel?”

joel looks up a little too fast, and finds etho stood outside his door, halfway through putting a book into a chest. “hi boat boy.” he says, and suppresses a wince. way to go.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” etho says, leaning against the doorframe, book still in hand. “I was, um- replying.” he waves the book, looking awkward, and joel grins.

“well, now i’m here, you can reply in person.” joel stands up, tail sweeping across the floor as etho watches. “i’m all e- does that say yoel?” he says, direction pulled to the title of the book.

“I- yeah, iskall told me to.” etho grins, a little sheepishly. “I was asking- y’know, ‘cause you put eefo on your book, I wanted to- uh, match?” a familiar warmth floods joel’s chest, and he feels his smile soften unconsciously. his ear flicks, and etho’s eyes focus on it. “are you- wait, you’re not a wolf anymore.”

joel snorts. “well observed.” 

etho rolls his eyes. “yeah- okay. you look familiar.”

from the look on etho’s face the second joel opens his mouth, he must already know what’s coming. “yeah, there’s a reason for that- we were soulmates? remember? boat boys for life?”

“y’know, i’m starting to have doubts about missing you.” etho says, clearly meant as a teasing insult, but joel is too fixated on the end of that sentence to care.

“you missed me?” joel blurts before he can think about why that would be a very bad idea. “that- I mean-“

etho looks a little awkward again, and joel finds himself appreciating that it’s not just him. “I mean. yeah.” he shrugs, clearly aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile—landing somewhere close to embarrassed and fond. “y’know, I- you’re fun to be around. and I only ever seem to see you when we’re trying to kill each other, so.”

joel thinks that, if he were more poetic, he’d probably note the space between them as being kind of symbolic; all they have to do is walk forward, but neither of them have moved- despite openly admitting that they missed each other. be it pride or doubt or fear of rejection, they haven’t taken one step forward since they started speaking.

but joel isn’t that poetic, and anyway, metaphors are stupid. and to prove that, he’ll walk forward right now. just- okay, just give him a second.

“what was it like?” joel says, maybe too abruptly. “when- after double life, when everyone got back. what was it like for the people whose soulmate was- y’know. there.”

the wind changes direction, and the rain begins to pour underneath the canopy. etho’s hair is getting wet, and he jumps inside. joel grins at him. “i’m- well, I was told that it felt.. kinda like they were cut in half.” etho hesitates. “or- well, bdubs at least said that it was like.. half of him was gone, but not.. gone? like, it was still there, he could still see it and touch it, but it was like touching a tree or something.”

“did he say tree?” joel says, not quite knowing how to respond to the rest of that.

etho gives a grin. “well- he said moss, actually.”

joel snorts a laugh. “yeah, I thought he might.”

“circling back to your new hybrid, it’s just occurred to me that you’re a blaze.” etho says, and joel cackles. “wh- you can’t make fun of me for that- i’ve never seen you as a blaze!”

“etho,” joel is grinning. “you thought I was gonna sit in here and do notihing voluntarily? I thought you were meant to be my soulmate- you should have known.” he shakes his head, mock-disappointed.

“do you-“ etho says suddenly, and joel looks at him. there's something- oddly soft about his expression. “I mean- do you think we’re, y’know. still soulmates?”

“I- probably?” joel says, some kind of tightness in his chest. “I don’t really know how soulmates work, but- I mean. i’d- i’d like to be.”

joel doesn’t realise that he’d been moving his tail until he accidentally smacks it into the bookcase behind him—painfully. he suppresses a yelp and jumps forward. etho looks like he’s trying not to smile at him, and joel resents how much he doesn’t care about it.

“well, I hope you wouldn’t be doing that the whole time.” etho says, sounding both amused and enormously relieved.

joel scoffs. “if you keep making fun of me, I will.” he pauses, before saying, very deliberately, “eefo.”

something in etho’s eyes softens in that weird way again, and joel almost frowns at it. “wh- okay, you’re not allowed to do that either.” he grins. “yoel.”

“speaking of,” joel says, stepping towards etho in what he hopes is an entirely innocent manner. “you came to drop off a book?”

“oh- I mean, we don’t have to read it right now.” etho says, hurriedly putting the book behind his back. joel’s curiosity is piqued tenfold. “it’s not really that interesting, I was- it’s mostly me making fun of you, actually. so.”

joel smirks. “oh yeah? what were you making fun of me for?”

“I- y’know- how obsessed with me you are.” etho says, clearly trying to look smug and failing miserably. “with- you still have that shirt. with my face on it.”

joel snorts a laugh, and etho’s eyes crinkle in the corners. “yeah, and you’re in my base, without being invited, to deliver a note that you won’t let me see.” he takes a step closer, now dead set on reading the note and hoping it isn’t abundantly obvious that’s his goal. “honestly, etho, it’s just getting ridiculous now, I mean- you- what are you doing?”

etho blinks, apparently oblivious to the stupid thing his face is doing. “what?”

“you’re doing a thing. with your eyes.” joel says, suspicious.

“oh- well joel, that’s called blinking.” etho says, mock-innocent. he cackles as joel makes several indignant noises in offence. “how am i meant to know what you’re talking about? i’m doing a thing with my eyes all the time!”

joel gives a huff of annoyance. “you’re giving me a look.” he folds his arms.

“wh- no i’m not?” etho says. honestly, if joel didn’t know him, he’d be fairly certain that etho was just playing dumb right now. however, joel does in fact know etho pretty well, and therefore knows that etho is just that dumb.

“you literally are- honestly, it’s kind of funny how dumb you are right now.” joel grins, edging closer under the pretence of getting up into etho’s space. the man in question seems to have completely forgotten he was holding a book in the first place, which he now holds limply at his side. “do you seriously not know you’re doing it?"

etho gives an exasperated huff, which joel  recognises as a very joel-like thing to do. okay. so etho picked up his mannerisms. who cares? "I don’t even know what you’re talking about. what am I doing?"

"you keep doing this- thing with your eyes." joel is in reach of the book now, but the confusion on etho's face is too funny to ignore. "they go all soft."

finally, there's a look of understanding that flashes across etho's expression—which is immediately replaced by an incredible amount of embarrassment. "oh- it- i’m doing that, uh- visibly?"

it's joel's turn to be confused now. "you- what do you mean, visibly?"

"I- well, you see-" etho says, turning pink as he talks. "it's- I kind of-"

joel watches with interest and amusement as etho rambles about facial expressions and emotions—in all honesty, he doesn't care an enormous amount as to why etho keeps making that face at him; this is far funnier. joel can’t believe he ever used to think this guy was mysterious.

after a moment, etho stammers to a halt, looking slightly indignant. "don’t laugh at me."

ironically, the offence in his voice makes joel snort, though he hurriedly covers his mouth. "i would never laugh at you, etho." he flicks his tail, waiting in anticipation for the silly argument they’re about to have about nothing in particular.

but that never happens, because instead of insisting that joel is a bad soulmate who is violating his trust (like joel expected), etho hides his face in his hands and mumbles something almost incomprehensible about joel being stupid. uh- what?

joel blinks, trying to think of what could have happened for etho to do this. he’s not exactly difficult to embarrass—something that joel definitely took advantage of when pretending not to know about etho's ridiculously obvious crush on bdubs just to watch the way etho scrambled to change the subject every time joel brought him up—but this is weird.

"are you- did I say something?" joel bends down in an attempt to get a look at etho's face. all he can see is that he’s turned even pinker. "you gotta tell me, so I can keep saying it." he grins at his own joke, but etho just mumbles in response, so joel jabs him. "c'mon etho, what was it?"

etho looks up, practically glaring at joel. "your stupid w- it's your fault." he says, voice softer than usual. joel is incredibly confused, and is about to tell him just that when etho huffs, "it's- you keep saying eefo."

there's a pause as joel understands what etho means, before he gasps in mischievous delight. "etho," he grins as etho groans. "are you telling me that you like how I say your name?"

joel doesn't think he’s ever seen etho look so embarrassed in his life, and it is hilarious. "it's- only yousay it like that." etho practically mumbles. "it's special."

and suddenly, joel is the one who's embarrassed, because- okay, how would you react to being called special by one of the most important people in your life? yeah, that's what he thought, so you can stop judging him for forgetting how to speak for a solid five seconds, because you would too. no- you would. 

that dumb softness is back in etho's eyes, and joel is going to blow up the entirety of magic mountain with himself still standing here. "I- are you oka-"

"shut up." joel says, looking away before etho can do that thing where his eyes crinkle in the corners as he tries not to laugh.

it barely matters though, because etho's laughter is clear in his voice when he says, "you- joel, are you embarrassed?"

joel turns back to glare at etho, but he can’t make it last as long as he wants. look- in his defence- etho is a master of manipulation, okay? he’s probably using mind control or something, so it's not even joel's fault actually.

"you are!" etho laughs in delight, and honestly, he's the worst soulmate ever. "aw, joel."

he wraps an arm around joel's shoulders in what is clearly meant to be some kind of jest, but apparently joel isn't done embarrassing himself, because before he can think about what he's doing, he relaxes into etho. it must be some kind of- muscle memory, or something, because he doesn't even notice that he’s doing it before etho hugs him properly, and another wave of embarrassment crashes down on him. it's worth it though.

"I missed you." joel mumbles, half hoping his voice is too quiet for etho to hear him. 

etho gives a soft huff, closer to joel's ear than he realised he was. "i’m really glad you’re here." he says, as if he doesn’t expect joel to listen. like he'd be doing anything else.

"still feels weird." joel scoffs to himself. "it's so- I can just see you whenever I want. I keep thinking- there must be some kind of- some kind of catch."

"I think the catch is ourselves, I gotta be honest." etho says, mock-weary, and joel snorts. "seriously though- what are we doing?"

joel cackles, looking up. "can't believe you even have to ask- making things harder for ourselves, as always."

etho rolls his eyes, and joel is grinning because it's so sickeningly fond, and it's clear etho hasn't realised his face is doing that just yet. not like joel is gonna tell him—which is absolutely not because he likes the way his eyes go soft, why would you even say that, you’re so wrong. how embarrassing for you.

"I- y’know. it doesn’t look like it's gonna clear up for a little while." etho starts, glancing away in what seems to be embarrassment. "and it's- I can’t imagine sitting here is all that fun. 'cause- yeah." etho clears his throat. "I just- uh. I could stay with you- for a bit. if you want."

joel is going to explode. in a good way. "well- I was getting pretty bored." he says, in an attempt at nonchalance. etho is smiling like he didn't expect joel to say yes. what an idiot. "only 'cause you want to though. not- I don’t care either way, but- y’know."

etho presses a kiss to the top of joel's head, and laughs as he turns pink. "yeah, just 'cause i want to."

"idiot." joel elbows him, but he can't stop himself from smiling. "do i get to know what's in the book now?"

"oh- absolutely not."

[primrosebitch]

Tbh it really is something to have grandmothers (one late 70s other late 80s) who are in better shape than you are, like I go see my grandma and we walk somewhere and i'll be panting before she's even slightly out of breath and it's not like she's in the best of conditions either, and then don't even get me started on my other grandma, she still does sports.