#i gotta stop with the metaphors lol

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHT

in which graves are dug up, walls are built, and nobody knows what happened in the bathroom that night.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.6k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

8:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: hey, do you guys remember the first night they met? 

BIRDIE: you mean when we took her to the bar to meet everyone and they very clearly fell in love at first sight? no, doesn’t ring a bell. 

DINGUS: stop being such a fucking smart ass

NANCE: @DINGUS What about it? 

DINGUS: she just called me asking me about it. said eddie was nice until you guys went to the bathroom. apparently he acted differently when you guys came back, but i can’t remember anything about what was said?? did eddie actually start acting differently??? 

BIRDIE: i remember that! thought it was weird or eddie just started overthinking? i dunno. i was in the bathroom obviously.

ARGYLE  😎: oh i remember that night very clearly brochacho

ARGYLE  😎: kind of surprised you don’t, dude

JOHNNY: Oh God yeah @DINGUS you’re living up to your namesake dude

NANCE: You really don’t remember, do you? 

DINGUS: @NANCE and how the fuck do YOU remember? you weren’t even there, nance. you were in the bathroom as robs put it.

NANCE: Best friend privileges. You really might want to remember, Dingus. 

BIRDIE: @NANCE message me real quick? 

DINGUS: hey! no fucking whispering! that’s not fucking helpful! @JOHNNY @ARGYLE  😎 what did i say? 

NANCE: @BIRDIE I will. Let me call Eddie first.

—

HOUR EIGHT - 11:00 PM

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop - you were trying to sleep. If anyone asked you, you could have honestly defended yourself. The couch was uncomfortable, your back aching as you repeatedly twisted back and forth to just try and find a minute of rest. Your mind was reeling, still replaying all of your moments with Eddie leading up to this night. Suddenly, you were overthinking it all. You couldn’t differentiate between things that really happened, or things that you’d simply blown out of proportion due to your innate need to spin the narrative of Eddie being the villain. 

“Yeah, I… I think she’s sleeping.” 

You hadn’t even heard Eddie opening his door finally, your back facing the hallway as you stayed curled up tightly. His footsteps are heavy as he gets closer to you.

“She’s… uh, she’s on the couch.”

Immediately, you can hear a shrill voice shouting over the line. It’s hard to miss. You can imagine the way he’s wincing, holding the phone out from his ear in an attempt to not let her scolding damage his ear drums. 

“I didn’t think she went to bed!” he hisses, trying to stay quiet, under the impression you’re still asleep, “I- Jesus H. Christ, Nance! Calm down, calm do-” he’s cut off as the anger over the line still leaks into the calm air of the room, “No. No, I wasn’t- I was going to let- Nance. Please, can I get a fucking word in?” 

You hold your breath during his pause, and the clear scolding, Nancy’s scolding, finally ceases. 

“I wasn’t going to let her sleep on the couch,” he says slowly. You almost turn over, almost face him and show him you’re very much awake and not sleeping. “I didn’t think she’d go to bed while I was in there. I thought… I thought- Jesus, I thought at worst, she’d snoop through my shit. Maybe go for a walk or something. I didn’t- I just… Fuck, I needed space. It’s just been a long night.”

Nancy’s voice is no longer audible, but it’s clear he’s listening to what she has to say. You’re nearly overcome with guilt; you’ve done plenty of things wrong, but to eavesdrop on a private conversation? It might be your worst crime against Eddie yet. 

Suddenly, he says, “It’s just been a lot.” 

Something in his tone has changed. It’s gone soft, whispering from his lips in sudden muted blue. It’s a type of sadness you can’t quite place – it’s the kind of mourning you’d seen in his eyes in the photo. 

Nancy must say something, because he hums in response. It’s obviously not good enough of an answer for Nancy over the phone, because her voice grows back to audible levels, less shrill, more stern. 

Eddie answers with words this time. “I… I think I do.” 

He thinks he does what? 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

He’s more sure in his answer the second time around to the unknown question. The guilt grows. Inflating, turbulating, ready to crack your ribs. The vines are no longer there to hold you together.

You’re put out of your misery when Eddie murmurs out a bye, Nance and you can hear his phone snap shut. If it were just a mere few hours ago, one hour ago, you would have made a comment about it - you would have joked again about what year it was, how maybe the two of you should get to sleep so first thing in the morning, you could drag him down to the Apple store to get a normal phone like the rest of you. But you’re not a time traveler, and Eddie is still an ocean away from you. 

And you’re not a strong swimmer. The water’s were rocky, were vicious, and if you dared to try and backstroke to his side of the water, you’d surely drown. He had to come to you. 

You’re praying he comes to you. Eyes tightly screwed shut, still resembling a ball on his old couch. 

Please reach out for me, your mind screams, please wake me up. Please tell me to come back to bed with you. Please tell me we can forget all the words said in the kitchen. Please, please, please. 

You don’t know where the pleading comes from. But whatever gods and goddesses may exist, whatever higher power in the Universe that would normally ignore you, hears out your silent pleas. 

His hand is warm when he first grabs your shoulder. 

It’s not rough, surprisingly gentle as fingertips press into your clothed skin and the first shake comes. It’s hardly enough to rouse a truly sleeping person. And Eddie realizes this as the second shake is a bit more firm, moving you a little more with a soft whisper of, “Hey, wake up.” 

The command isn’t as harsh as you’re used to from him. It’s crushed velvet, smoothing over your skin like the blanket you’d previously pondered for, making the guilt begin to deflate. A slow release of air and the accompanying feelings of dishonesty and disloyalty leaves your chest weathered when his next whisper comes not only louder, but closer.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta get up,” he insists, but all you care about is his cologne. He never changed it from that first night. Always something warm, always something spiced. And you hate it, because it’s still the feeling of coming home from a long week, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll carry you if I have to.” 

That makes your sleeping facade crack. Your lips betray you - one twitch, and Eddie knows you’re awake, pressing you to roll onto your back. 

“I know you’re awake now. Let’s go,” you can hear the dimples in his tone. You can picture the lazy smile, the shining eyes. With your eyes closed, you can pretend you never had to meet mean Eddie. When you’re not looking at him, it’s almost as if the man you initially met still exists, to have and to hold, to make inside jokes with as you let the scenery around the two of you fade to black. 

You crack your eyes back open to find him looking down at you just as you’d expected, but not nearly with as much mischief or mirth as you had craved. 

The Eddie you first met is gone. He’s not coming back, and you can’t live with your eyes closed. Hell, maybe he had drowned in that ocean between you two as well. 

Maybe if you took the leap, just attempted to take on the waves, you’d meet him somewhere at the bottom of it all. 

“I thought you said you’d carry me?” you tease. 

His hand. His hand is still on your shoulder, and his palm is still searing you. You couldn’t pull away from its burn if you tried. 

“I’d carry you if I had to,” he corrects, “You’re awake, therefore, I don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know. I think my legs may be broken.” 

Eddie says your name firmly. It takes you off guard, momentarily distracts you from the way he squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you out here.” 

You decide against putting up any further fight. You’re just happy he’s talking to you again. How odd and peculiar that feeling is. 

You rise from the couch and take him in. He’s no longer in his jeans, having traded out his earlier day clothes for something more comfortable. A pair of comfortable grey sweatpants, one or two sizes too big with the drawn string pulled to its limit and tied into a knot. He’s wearing a faded band shirt, loved in every way possible: it’s been cut along the bottom to shorten it in length, several holes torn along the torso and in the neck hole, the once black fabric now a stormy shade of grey far darker than the sweatpants. There’s a logo across the chest, peeling away at the edges. 

“Deftones?” you ask, squinting to make out the words written amongst the logo, “What is that? A band?” 

He chuckles, almost in disbelief, before he realizes you’re serious, “Wait, you’ve really never heard of them?” 

You shake your head, “No, are they any good?” 

You’re still making no move to stand, Eddie towering over you as you tilt back to meet his gaze. The disbelief is morphing, ever changing, pulling in and out of his features like the sea against sand. Like the waves of his self-imposed ocean that taunts you. You only dig your toes into the sand, you only stand at a far enough distance to not get your feet wet yet. You’re not ready to dive in. You’re not brave enough yet. 

His chuckle this time isn’t in disbelief. 

“Yeah, yeah. They’re great. I can show you them later, if you just come to bed.” 

The game of teasing and begging is over, and you refuse to push your luck. He’s talking to you. Normally. You finally stand and shrug off that hand on your shoulder, finally trying to get your wits and not glance down at the waistband of his boxers. 

“Okay, lead the way,” you gesture before spinning your upper body around with your feet planted in place, a soft crack coming from your back. 

There’s no words exchanged in that brief walk to the bedroom; there’s nothing else to really say. The fight happened, Eddie locked you out, you’re both having to start from square one. The ocean still calls to you, and there’s nothing you can change about it. 

His room is the same as it was hours ago, when you’d locked yourself into it. A little messy, a little boyish, but comforting all the same. 

“A couple ground rules,” he finally breaks the silence. Oh, this oughta be good. “One, no more looking through my shit for…. Uh, magazines.”

“Trust me,” you hold up a hand in defeat, “Learned my lesson the first time. You can keep your gross Playboys.” 

His brows wrinkle in minute irritation, “Gross? They’re not gro- You know what? Whatever. Yeah. Stay away from my gross playboys. Second rule, I have enough pillows we can make a… wall, I guess?” 

You have to bite back your amusement, you have to remind yourself of the roar of an ocean. Maybe if you taste the salt on your lips again, you’ll remember that this is all temporary. 

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. 

“Obviously that means staying on your side of the bed. And it’s not a big bed, obviously, so-”

“What side of the bed do you prefer?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He’s dumbfounded despite the question not being a hard one. “The bed – which side do you prefer?” 

“I, uh, I-” he brings a hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he rubs his curls that are matted at the nape, “The left, I guess? Or I mean, if we’re looking down at it, it’d be the right, but…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the side he’s referring to, the one closest to the wall, “You know.” 

A nervous Eddie is a sight to behold. The fidgeting, the flush of his neck and cheeks, the stuttering sentences. He’s nervous about sharing a bed with you. 

“Perfect,” you offer a smile, although you don’t think it does much for him considering he’s looking down at the ground in bashfulness, “I prefer the right side. I just refer to them by left or right when you’re laying down, by the way.” 

You don’t have to add that tidbit – you don’t need to reassure him that your mind works in the same way as his in the slightest. But you do, and the red of his cheeks lightens. 

“Cool,” he murmurs.

“Cool,” you echo. 

The awkwardness can be afforded as the two of you straighten out the comforter, not needing to focus on shaking hands or fluttering chests as Eddie climbs in first and begins to rearrange his spare pillows as a barrier. His sweatpants slip down a bit lower as he does this, and you catch sight of the band of his boxers.

The band of his boxers pressing into the jut of his hips. The streak of alabaster, soft and unmarked unlike his arms, and the coarse patch of hair that interrupts the center of it all. 

“Have you ever considered getting hip tattoos?” you blurt out, and immediately, you both freeze. 

You really need to learn to think before you speak. 

“Uh… what?” Eddie chuckles nervously, presenting an opportunity to redeem yourself. 

He didn’t even have to catch you staring. You’d outed yourself.

And yet, you choose to double down, to take the embarrassment in stride as if it doesn’t phase you, “Hip tattoos. Have you ever thought about getting some? I think they’d be pretty sick.” 

Your self-destruction pays off when Eddie smiles up genuinely at you. Sugar coated sweetness, a bit of authentic amusement. 

“You’re right. They would be pretty sick.” 

He should have mocked you for staring at his hips. He should have taken the opportunity to embarrass you and run, but the tides are shifting between you two, and you keep taking two steps closer to his ocean. The sand only grows colder and colder the closer you get to the edge, and it has your mind reaming with the possibility of what it would feel like to recklessly dive in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that again, this time into the microphone,” you make a fist, an invisible microphone in your grasp as you thrust it out towards Eddie. 

He laughs. He laughs, and its reverb travels through the caverns of your chest. Suddenly, you’re sipping a watered down Amaretto Sour and his breath smells of Jack & Coke, and the lowlights of the room have become treacherous bar lighting as you lean into his shoulder, sitting side by side on bar stools. 

The echoes still carry as he swats away your hand, eyes squinted with the mirth you’d be seeking out since he ‘woke’ you up, “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, a funny idiot.” 

“Oh, now you’re just pushing it too far.” 

“Too far? I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.” 

Why don’t we ever hang out? Why don’t we ever banter like this when out with the others? 

It’s so easy, easy to continue to giggle as you turn out the bedroom light before crawling into bed with him, feeling his warmth radiating even through the pillows between the two of you. Pillows, oceans – they all have started to feel the same. 

Once the two of you have settled, you on your side and Eddie on his back, a nicer sort of silence blankets you. It’s almost as soft as his voice when he woke you, almost the same type of crushed velvet if you don’t reach out to it. But if you were to touch it, brush your fingertips over the material with intention and inhibition, you’d find the roughness. Roughness that mimics sand amongst an ocean’s waves, a roughness that says there’s more to be spoken about. 

“The bed’s nicer than the couch,” you speak out loud rhetorically, not necessarily to him, but to the coarseness. To the sand and to the fake velvet, “More comfortable.”

“I know,” he answers to fill the space. I know, meaning he’s slept on his couch. 

It makes sense. It’s his couch. But your mind runs rampant with the scenarios. Did he discover this through afternoon naps after hard shifts? Or maybe after one too many night outs that ended in collapsing face first into the cushions because he was too drunk to make it to his bedroom? 

You jump when he sits up suddenly, “Fuck.” 

“What’s your problem?” you twist from your position of your back facing him, squinting into the darkness.

“The photo.”

“What photo?”

“Photo evidence, you idiot! We have to send a photo to those fuckers.” 

You had nearly forgotten that this is what this is; your friends and a bet are the pushing force behind this all. It’s not fate, it’s not the moon bringing two tides  together. You didn’t happen upon his beach because you two decided to give this, whatever this was, a fighting chance. 

You sit up next to him, crinkling your nose, “My phone’s in the living room, I think.” 

“I can go get it.”

An offer of chivalry you didn’t even have to ask for. 

Same as him sharing the bed. Same as him paying for your meal when you forget your wallet, or catching you when you trip up steps outside a bar. You really wish the list would stop growing. 

He’s shuffling out of the bed, down the line of pillows and off the end of it, before you can even protest. You didn’t even tell him where the godforsaken phone might be besides that it’s in the living room. That doesn’t stop him. 

It feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a full minute, before he’s returning back to the room. He’s looking down at the phone, your screen lit up and basking his face in the only light in the room. 

“What is it?” you can only assume the chat is messaging for a photo, by the scrunch of his brows and the small part of his lips. 

“Nothing.”

That was the first thing that made your stomach drop.

The second comes when he returns to the bed, fighting his way up into his original position, handing the phone over to you as you glance at the notifications. 

A notification from Steve. A private message, not sent in the groupchat. 

STEVE-O: i’m sorry, i really don’t know what happened that night. the others won’t tell me either so they’re kind of useless. whatever it was, i don’t think it was you, though, honey.

Honey. Mother fucking Steve Harrington, and his need to use nicknames. 

“All good?” Eddie asks, as if he didn’t just have access to this message, as if he doesn’t know what Steve’s said. You don’t know why the thought of Eddie seeing Steve’s careless nickname throws you over the edge. You just assume he’ll take it out of context, that he’ll spin it as a weapon against you. 

“Fine,” you curtly reply, opening your phone and ignoring the message, going straight to the group chat and opening your camera. Your heart is still racing in terrible inconvenience as you glance over your shoulder at him, “How do we wanna take it this time?” 

“I don’t know about you, but I personally just love to take it laying down-” 

“Are you trying to make a sexual innuendo right now? Because if so, stop. It’s terrible.” 

More giggles, more chuckles, more taunting waves of a daunting ocean that is scaring you less and less. Maybe the jump is worth it. Maybe the initial chill will break and show you warmth. Maybe it would never be cold to begin with. 

At least he’s teasing you, which is a good sign. You lay down in the same position as earlier, this time Eddie propping himself up to peek over the wall of pillows so his face is in the picture. 

It’s too dark to really see your faces very clearly. You can still make them out, to be fair, but it’s hard. You have to strain your eyes quite a bit to make out the mess of your hair and the indents of Eddie’s dimples.

Eddie’s dimples. His dimples. Oh God, he’s smiling.

“Turn on the flash,” he reaches over, invades your space with boy and spice and nostalgia to tap on the screen himself and do as he had just requested. 

“What was the point of telling me to do it, if you were just going to do it yourself,” you grumble, trying to yank the phone out of his reach. He only leans further, pressing into the boundary of pillows, his collarbone knocking against the back of your shoulder. 

Warmth. So, so much warmth. It occurs to you that it’s not just the smell of his cologne that feels like a long week’s homecoming; his touch and presence can manage to do the same, when he’s not being a pest of course. 

“Shut up and take the photo,” he bickers before giving up and settling back into his pose. He even adds to it, throwing up a peace sign with the hand not holding him up.

You can’t help but tease him for it, mimicking the motion with your own hand and failing at holding back your tittering. When you tap the button to take the photo, the screen flashes white and you both immediately groan before rubbing your eyes. 

“Fuck.”

“Wow, bright idea.” 

“Was that a pun?” Eddie stops mid eye rub, side-eyeing you, “Fuck off. That was a terrible pun.” 

“I never said my puns were good!” you try to defend yourself, blinking to bring relief to your scorned irises and focus on the photo of the two of you, “I said my jokes were good.”

“Puns are jokes.” 

You completely ignore him, and instead sigh deeply when you see the photo, “We need to retake it. No flash, this time. They can adjust brightness on their own time.” 

The photo is terrible, truly. The photo captures the moment somewhere between your enjoyment of copying Eddie and the pain the two of you had brought upon yourselves. Squinty eyes, coiled lips. Two peace signs of two drastically differently sized hands. 

Don’t you dare, you scorn your mind at that trail of thought, don’t even start that comparison.

“Why?” Eddie protests, once again beginning to lean over and take a closer look at your phone, chest brushing your shoulder again, “Oh, c’mon, it’s fine – just send it so we can sleep before they bother us again.” 

You just shake your head, already reopening the camera app and being sure to adjust the settings. No blinding this photo. 

“Say cheese, pretty boy.” 

It’s not until you’ve tapped to take the photo that you both realize what you’ve said. 

Pretty boy.

Eddie is leaning in still, just as he is in the photo you’ve taken, and both of you look far too happy to be sharing a bed. The words – the nickname, the compliment – are still formed on your lips in it. If the flash was on again, you’d see the blush of his reaction. 

Neither comment on it. You won’t lean into your embarrassment for a second time tonight, and Eddie isn’t in the business of teasing you cruelly anymore, it seems. 

You can hear him swallow hard before he asks, “Is that one good?” 

“Fine,” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Um, yeah, it’s good. I sent it.” 

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

The awkwardness is stifling. Heavy and drowning and goddamn stifling. 

You toss your phone far too quickly onto his nightstand, wishing the bed would swallow you whole. 

If you two were friends, it would have been mindless teasing. The same as when Steve calls you honey, or Robin rambles about how hot you look on a night out. But you two aren’t friends.

You two aren’t friends because of some mysterious change that occurred in Eddie while you went to the bathroom. You haven’t forgotten the burning question, and the longer you two lay there, the more you let it consume you rather than regret. 

“Hey, Eddie? Can I ask you a question?”

He’s laying flat on his back as he answers you, hands nervously wringing on his stomach, “You just did, but sure.” 

It should be a good thing. He’s still teasing you, it’s still a good thing. But all your questions die in your throat. 

What happened when I went into the bathroom that first night?

Why did you turn so cold towards me?

 Was it my fault?

Why aren’t we friends? 

The last one doesn’t go down without a fight. It reverberates and battles you, it tries to pull you into the ocean head first. 

Why aren’t we friends? 

“Do you still drive a motorcycle?” 

That sure was a funny way of asking what you needed to. 

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly puzzled by your random question, but nevertheless he says, “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” 

You’re picturing him stalking away from you again, without so much as a goodbye, straddling the bike and tucking his head away into the motorcycle. The last glimpse you’d ever had of everything he could have been to you. It’s enough to make your eyes water, your bones shake, your toes curl into coarse sand until they bleed. 

The next time you hear his voice, he’s whispering your name. You don’t respond, and so he tries it again, saying it a bit louder this time. 

“I know you’re not asleep. No one can fall asleep that quickly.”

“I can,” you snap, still choking on his waves and personal mourning, a yearning you need to find the grave of once more to bury – for good this time. 

“Clearly, you can’t,” he shuffles, but you don’t check to see if he’s sitting up. (He’s not, he feels like his back is glued to the bed). His voice is back to crushed velvet and kindness, vulnerability and softness, a sort of home you can never return to, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

That piques your interest. You turn, laying on your back and looking at the same ceiling as him in that moment, “For what? Earlier in the kitchen? Or at the bar?” you feel his flinch, and are quick to add, “Because consider it water under the bridge, okay? You’re forgive-”

“I mean for everything. I’m sorry for… everything.” 

Everything. Ten letters, four syllables. It means a whole lot more than it should be capable of. 

“Everything?” your voice is hardly audible as you turn to look at him. He’s half hidden by the wall put between the two of you. But if you squint, if you adjusted the brightness, you wonder if you’d see his eyes shining with the same remorse yours burn with. You wonder if you’d see the dirt caked under his nails from also digging up graves he shouldn’t have tonight. 

“Everything.”

Ten letters, four syllables, one leap of faith. The ocean isn’t as cold as you’d thought it would be. 

—

BIRDIE is typing…

DINGUS: i swear to god rob. if you’re not about to tell me what the fuck i did that night, you better lock your phone and just go to bed. 

BIRDIE stops typing.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #i gotta stop with the metaphors lol #i know it would notify them that robin stops typing but i think it'd be so funny to watch her lil bubble of dots disappear #robin was ready to scream about them sharing a bed

[futzingbarton]

someone who discarded me like a used rag showed up on my dash last night as i was about to sleep, despite them having said they were done with tumblr about 3 years ago, so that was a fun punch to the face

but the real kicker is i was so startled i closed the app and dealt with the emotional dysregulation so i don't even remember what the username was and now that means i get to either 1) go through my blog to find what their screen name is now, thereby losing my sanity to the halcyon days of nostalgic remembrance that will inevitably lead into absolute despair, or 2) sit around until they randomly post again leading to yet another surprise gutpunch

#hate that i can't stop thinking about it either but that do be the tism for you #it has as usual been an abysmal holiday season and huzzah we gotta sprinkle on some more bs before the year is over #guess i can...try to project this onto my fnv character in the fic lol #nikarant #oh right i also have these tags #i want my owl back #owl is a metaphor for those years of my life

[end-of--the-line]

Hey, my friend. From me to you, happy holidays. I’m grateful for your presence in my life and in my Notes. Hope 2023 treats you well, and that your holiday is as survivable, thriveable, and as tf2-spyable as you could hope for. Best, ~Tim

aw shit thank you for being in my notes! i hope your holidays are kind and as dog filled as you desire, even if you did just cite tf2 spy at me lmfao

#asks #voice of god #im awful at responding to nice messages but this made me smile so yknow. had to give it my best shot #doesnt help that im a little bedridden rn but what can you do lol #my illness ridden state may prevent me from forming coherent paragraphs but it cant stop me from bein glad youre here #here in the metaphorical sense since youre on the other coast but the sentiment stands #hope you know that i thoroughly enjoy seeing you around be it notes or messages or dashboard posts #also #sorry i always end conversations early or waaay after they should be over lmfao #from me to you thank you for being a homie and one of my only mutuals who can share the weight of homestuck #''thank you for being a homie'' sounds stupid as hell actually but its ok some things dont need to be coated in 7 layers of irony #ok gotta wrap this up before the year ends cmon #happy holidays! heres to tumblr mutuals and (one more week of) crawling through the year lmao :)

[sysig]

Toybox (Patreon)

#Doodles #Original #Tala #Couple new ideas from this one #The most important one being a thing that I Knew™ but forgot lol #I also forget how to phrase it as a way that isn't just about like - dog training? Even tho Tala is also a puppy plushy lol #It also applies to humans! It's when you want to encourage the avoidance of a specific behaviour you have to y'know #Provide an alternative and not just say ''No more of [this]'' without giving something else to do #You can explain yourself up and down and be perfectly reasonable as to why you shouldn't swim in the radioactive lake #But if you don't give a kid something else fun to do they might find their resolve crumbly #That's this lol #Want to stop playing with just that one thing? Gotta offer alternatives #I mean - I was doing that in a literal sense but I never visually metaphorized it lol #So now I have and it feels clearer and cleaner and easier to see and work with ♪ #And Tala gets more toys! Which is fun :D #She likes Totem but Totem is no Webkinz Tala is pretty into Webkinz haha #She ended up with Mimzy the Whimsy Dragon - I have never claimed to be the most creative namer even as a child lol #Mimzy won by virtue of being in the Goldilocks Zone of nostalgia lol #A) She's named and I actually remember what it is #B) She wasn't one of the Original run that I had and therefore sacred #and C) She's got important emotional connections that even the OGs don't #So that's fun :3 She's also surprisingly fun to draw so added bonus! #Her shiny pink belly is very cute do like

[caterpillarinacave]

ah yes. The terror.

#You know. The ever present fear becuase of the trauma #You know the “I’m living in a little glass just waiting for it to shatter” #Trying to go about life but eyeing every crack in the wall #The ever present fear always just below your surface that you didn’t get away from them #Metaphorically tiptoeing in your own house becuase your terrified that your gonna trip and that persons gonna think about you again #And theyre gonna come over with a hammer #Always smiling as big as you can because they know everything about you #Gotta look constantly relaxed constantly happy unbothered not angry not dramatic because of they start talking I can’t stop them #And even if someone *did* believe me -which context points to they won’t - I can’t live with people knowing those things #Look at me bordering on madness because of a relationship when I was fucking eleven. Good lord I’m pathetic lol #…I’ll stop being weird on main my bad

[romanarose]

Yes, Uncle Tommy?

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

DBF!Tommy Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: Something something, Santa's not the only one coming?

or

Your dads friend's kid brother, Tommy, fucks you while Joel watches... but Joel cant keep his hands to himself

Warnings and Content: Big, girthy age gap, degrading, rough sex, cucking Joel, objectification (calling her a toy, a sex doll etc). Tommy is playfully teasing you but it's in jest. Jerking off, cream pie and cum in face, make up smearing, ass eating, praise, "daddy" joel, "uncle tommy" threesome between brothers but they are far away from each other, but watching. ball sucking, mentions of oral, m and f receiving, slapping, pinning down, nipple play, spitting. EXPLICITE AND LOVING CONSENT! This was a lot so if i missed anything LMK!!!!!

Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, reader is much younger than Joel and Tommy. Mentions of readers stomach jiggling but i think most (not all i'll conceed!) do when folded and pounded lol. Mentions of a "bruising grip" as a metaphor but not mentions of bruising or coloration.

The requested part two to Yes, Mr. Miller? but you don't gotta read before.

1.7 k Words

**************

"Jesus Christ!" Tommy laughed at you mockingly. "Look at her, struggling so hard to take it!"

Joel knelt behind you, fisting his cock above you as you chocked on his balls. "Be nice, baby's just sensitive." He warned his brother. He liked to watch Tommy's cock disappear into your little cunt.

"Yeah cause your scruffy excuse for a beard was all up in between her legs for hours before you decided to invite me in."

Joel had intended on fucking you raw in your bed again, but when Tommy heard the sounds coming out of your door, he put two and two together. After a brief, whispered deliberation with you, Joel invited him in.

'Be my own, personal porn star.' He had instructed. You knew just what Joel liked to see, and now he had the perfect view. Still, you couldn't help the sounds that drew Tommy in the first place so to keep your mouth occupied, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth. After he decided you were a little overwelmed, he switched to his balls.

"Poor little, baby..." Tommy mused. "Get'n awfully squirmy... wassamatter? Can't take it?" It was mostly playful mockery, but also his way of checking up on you.

All he got was a muffled whine as slobbered on Joel's fat balls.

Joel sat back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you but dragging his heavy balls on your face along the way, making sure to smear your make up as he spat a glob of spit on your before slapping you across the face.

"Uncle Tommy asked you a question, baby. Didn't daddy teach you your manners?"

Choking back a sob as you're stretched to the limit at the core of you, Tommy slows down to allow you to breath without his cock punching the air out of your lungs.

"Y-yes, unclemmmm, uncle Tommy?" You ask in your bestest, goodest girl voice.

"I said," Tommy grabbed your hips and yanked you down till you hit his pelvis, making you gasp. He dropped his body down to kiss your neck and said in a soft voice. "Are you doing alright?"

"Yes, Uncle Tommy, thank you sir." You seal it with a kiss on the lips and a buck of your hips, spurring Tommy on again.

The younger Miller groaned, pulling back and smiling at his brother as his hips snapped into you with fury. Both kept their shirts and a light jacket on incase they needed to clean up quick, and the way you were crying out, Joel wasn't sure you could keep from alerting the whole house when you came.

Joel placed his hands on your shoulders, pinning your wriggling body down. "Hold still, little girl..." Joel chastised, shuttering a bit at the lose of stimulation from his rough hands.

"M'm sorry daddy" You whine, but do little to stop the writhing on the bed.

Soothingly, Joel ran his hands down your still-clothes chest, swiping over your hard nipples and going back to rub your neck, repeating this motion and keeping you pinned down.

"It's okay, sweet girl, it's a lot, isn't it?"

It was, it was so fucking much. Joel was longer, but Tommy's cock was fatter, splitting you open wide. Despite the ache, you we so, so fucking high off pleasure right now, you could scream. Your stomach swooped with every thrust, Tommy hitting you right in your core as Joel massaged you, neglecting his own aching cock.

"Such a good little girl for us Joel, thanks for sharing your little toy." Tommy smacked your thigh, forcing you to bite down on your lip to prevent the yelp. "Hurts so good, but she's taking it anyway. Fuuuck, brother squeeze'n me so tight I think she's about to cum! Pathetic little thing, ain't she."

"Ohhh, she just wants to be good, Tommy! She just wants to be a little fuck doll for her daddy and uncle, bet her whole family can hear her little pussy getting torn apart." As Joel brought his hands down again, he squeezed your tits in a bruising grip, sure to leave a mark, before rolling your perky nipples between his fingers.

"Fuck, daddy!" You cry, making Tommy laugh again.

"I dunno Joel, I reckon you better fill her mouth up again before her real daddy comes in to find her being used like a blow up sex doll."

"I think you're right, brother."

"Always am."

Joel knelt up again, balls dangling above you and you open your mouth eagerly to taste his musk, but Joel surprises you by lowering himself down so his ass was right on your mouth. You could feel his balls on your chin as her jerked himself, muffling your moans and cries and begging with his ass.

"Oh fuuuck yeah, that's it, my dirty little girl"

Tommy chuckles, never relenting on his pace on you, fucking into your waiting body with everything he had. "Fucking nasty. She'll just let you do anything to her, huh?"

"Pretty much. Little girl just wants to make her daddy proud." You and Joel had actually talked about ass eating before and you said you were game, given the proper sanitary measures. Joel never actually did anything you didn't want or anything he hadn't asked about.

Glancing to the side, Joel saw your teddy, the little toy he had you clutching when he fucked you over thanksgiving and god an idea. Taking the toy and gripping at the neck, Joel pressed the button to your clit right above where his brother was defiling your little cunt. "Teddy wants you to come, baby."

He feels your whimpers reverberate between his ass cheeks as you like into him, tongue prodding at his tight hole. You briefly had the thought of slipping a finger up his ass, but remember that had not been discussed yet. You wondered if he'd let you peg him.

Joel looked up at Tommy, his brother's boyish face grinning wildly back at him. Joel had made Tommy start of easy, not going full pace just yet as he wasn't sure you could take that for too long, but now, as things were coming to an end, Joel wanted you absolutely destroyed. He picked your pretty make up smearing all over his ass.

"Go nuts Tommy. Fuck her like a rag doll."

Given full permission, Tommy was unleased. He gripped your hips, lifting them off he bed and he heard a muffled squeal before fucking hard and fast, your skirt falling down and revealing your jiggling belly. He was an absolutely mad man, slapping into you with such fervor Joel was carefully paying attention to your grip on his thighs as you ate him in case you needed to tap out, but your never once faltered on your tongue work. Joel took the moment to jerk his cock furiously, his one personal porn star getting fucking right in front of him, and him having the best seat in the house.

"Fuck, Joel." Tommy calls his attention, voice strained and eyes pinched closed. "She's fuck'n cum'n, cum'n real har- oh fuuuuck... shit! 'm cuming so hard!" With a few more grunts, Tommy spilled into you, filling you up with gushes of his warm seed.

Just then, Joel pulled back off your face just in time to spray the hot white on the red and black mixture of your make up, releasing with a grunt.

"Fuck darl'n, such a sexy little fuck doll for me..." When he was finished, Joel rubbed your teddy on your messy, soiled face. "Good girl.... such a good girl..." He coaxed Tommy to lay down, redressing himself before grabbing your makeup removing wipes and the baby wipes you added to your collection for days like this. He grabbed a few make-up wipes and tossed the baby wipes to Tommy. Joel sat on the bed, pulling your limp body towards him to rest your head on his lap. As Tommy took care gently wiping your aching and puffy pussy, tender in his strokes but thorough, Joel wiped down your soiled face, both whispering words of praise.

"Such a pretty girl"

"Did so well for us, princesca."

"Perfect thing."

Once you (and teddy) were clean, Tommy made his exit with a parting kiss, leaving you and Joel together.

"How do you feel, baby girl?" He asked, smoothing his hand over your face to sooth you.

"Great, Daddy. How do you feel?" You wanted to check in with him too. Fucking you at the same time as his brother may not have been the threesome he initially proposed, but you hoped you weren't dissapointing.

You could feel the smile in his voice. "Absolutely perfect, darling girl. amazing"

You laid there on his lap for a few moments until you heard the bathroom door opening after Tommy and your dads tell tale footsteps up the stairs.

"Heya Tom, where you been hiding?"

"Oh," Nervous laughter as he patted his stomach. "Just, you know, the eggnog. You know how I am with dairy." Tommy is talking too loud, signaling Joel to make his escape.

Joel mutters 'shitshitshit' and quickly put his shoes on, you scrambling to push him into the closet.

"You seen Joel lately? Or my kid? Wanna make sure she ain't drank too much. She gets a little dizzy sometimes with alcohol."

"Uhhh no man, ain't seen 'er. Joel i think went out for a smoke though."

"I'll check in her room."

"OH, uh, you know, she might be sleeping." He was so fucking loud and a bad actor.

You shut the closet door, and scramble back to your bed just in time for your dad to knock gently before carefully opening and calling your name in hushed tone. "High honey, you feeling okay? Disappeared there for a moment."

"Yeah dad, I'm alright. Just feeling a little under the weather is all."

"You have too much to drink?"

"Yeah, that might be it..."

"Ill get you some water, alright? And a bite to eat. make you feel better. Be back in a sec."

"Thank you daddy!"

When the door closed, you tell Joel it's clear and he comes out of the closet.

"Go, he's gonna make me leftovers, now's your chance!" You begin shoving him to your door, just Joel stops, pinching your cheeks with his thumb and forefingers.

"Don't you ever call another man daddy, understood?"

Through your squished cheeks you murmur. "Yes, Mr. Miller." He kisses you on the forehead and makes his exit.

*****************

Special shout out to @pedge-page bc the teddy scene was from their work Plushies Series Masterlist that fried my brain!

Thank you for all your love on yes, mr miller? i hope you like this too!

Im not getting rid of my tag list, but im adding an update blog, @romana-updates ! come follow and/or turn on notifications so you dont miss a thing!

But if being tagged is more your style, comment on the tag list linked above!

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fem reader #tlou smut #tlou #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #daddy joel #Christmas #christmas special #the last of us christmas #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller smut #dbf!tommy miller #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #uncle tommy #uncle tommy miller

[consciouschunkofmoss]

.

#screaming crying throwing up #mlb is trending and i just saw the most amazing gifset xubeuznevjsns #literally i cannot express how fucked up i am rn for not being able to watch anything about it rn #ugghhhjnghhhhh #also yes i am still on this train and probably will not get off until the very last stop so #a metaphorical train i mean lol #and yall just gotta deal with me yelling and freaking out until my chem exam is done and get to go back home

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: Sometimes, you just gotta use Steve. And sometimes — he’s just gotta let you.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, PWP, vaginal sex, overall filth, etc.

A/N: Something I came up with last night because some of us are sluts for Steve’s tight little jeans, and the monster he’s got caged inside of them. ;) This has zero plot, and it’s just filth, but I’m proud of myself because when I was writing it, I felt like I was able to form sentences again (that I actually liked, lol). Hope y’all enjoy it too? And I am working on more stuff, plus the plus sized Eddie angst/comfort that I promised! ❤️💘❤️💘

The explosion of cinnamon amongst a molten, midnight black is impeccable — it’s delicious. He’s completely gone and you’re not sure what reality you’ve landed upon, your body not still or sound. If there’s control you aren’t exactly sure who has it (does anyone, really)? There’s a rumbling sound that’s dislodged from his diaphragm, his chest — thick with chestnut curls — expands on a jagged breath. Your back arches again, that undeniable shift helping you push your hips with all they’re worth, owning your movements.

“Oh, fuck. H-honey, I can’t —“

He cuts himself off, pearly white teeth sinking into the swollen skin of his stubble bitten, top lip. Your sclera is shrouded in tears, the crystal liquid overflowing, spilling down your lash-line. He almost has to check in with you, but as your fingers find your nipples and give them that extra stimulation — he ceases, his abdomen muscles crunching beneath the tremors. He’s about to speak and you beat him to it, bearing the tendons in your throat.

“Yeah… s’ fucking good. Love it.”

He has to drop his head to crest into focus, bowed between defined shoulder blades, his large hand reaching to cradle your cheek. He nearly blows his load right then and there, a wince crackling across his features like an electric shock. Your fingertips are the pulsing magnets, his body your dynamite to explode. His mouth feels chapped and dry, but he knows that it's his throat that’s raspy, brimmed with velvet arousal, stroking the flames that lick below his navel everytime you work your heat back onto his cock, using him.

And he tries another turn at coherency. “You love what, baby?”

You’re without pause, humming, feet planted into the mattress, toes curled into his baby blue bed sheets. Mingling scents of your soft perfume, his cologne, laundry detergent that littered the laundered sheets, and sex — it’s fanned with your possessive rhythm. Still, you sound more capable of speech — albeit — drenched in a honey wrapped heat, capable of destroying you both in the most aching burns. “Love having my cunt filled with your big cock, Steve.”

“That right?” It’s through clenched teeth that it separates itself free of his throat. His calloused thumb pad finds your cheekbone, pathing a way only he can ever know, one that slithers across your jaw and presses into the corner of your mouth, prying open your lips to hear you beg just a little more. “You know that you take it better than anyone else ever has, honey? Like you were made for it.”

Those words ignite your blazing inferno, your hips raising off the mattress and pushing, retracting into a rough bounce, an encouragement, a plea. Steve has never seen you like this before. A goddess amongst his broken knighthood (he needs to stop hanging around Eddie when the dude has Hellfire and goes all nerdy on him with metaphors), summoning his body for your sole pleasure, bringing him to the brink and shattering the release before he can even begin to sample a taste. Everything stings, prickling his tongue, locking his muscles into submission, his hair constantly swaying in his sweaty forehead and matting there, leaving him to blink rapidly. He isn’t sure what time it is, aware that he’s been bouncing you in a painstakingly, agonizing rhythm over his swollen cock, no one cumming, left to graze that high with fingertips.

Steve can barely take it anymore, his balls throbbing with unshed release, posture growing sloppy with choppy exhaustion. But damn it feels so fucking good, with his bones satiated and melting, fusing into his overworked muscles. And then you run your fingers through his chest hair, your digits stretching to splay across his jugular, arm elongating to assist. Steve wraps a limb around your back, using his forearm to propel you forward, your pussy taking him the rest of the way with a slick squelch, an immediate press of your milky white cream seeping out around where you’re joined, soaking him. His fingertips press into the meat of your back, tapping idly, squeezing.

“My dick is fucking soaked, honey. You’ve just been using me up for the last hour, huh?” His plush mouth finds the skin behind your ear, your breasts smashing into his chest and sticking.

He nibbles a little, alternating with that diabolical swipe of his tongue along the side of your neck, seizing your salty exertion — your body dusted in layers upon layers of it. It’s Steve who takes this movement, falling back onto his haunches and raising a bit to tighten his hold around your lower back, the other lacing your hands together and wiggling them between your thighs, making them part further, your limbs still wrapped around his waist, now draping over top his hips. He uses his nose to nudge your gaze, redirecting it to where he slides out enough for you to see his cock shining with a mess of you. “Look, honey. You see all this mess?”

If you weren’t totally in love with this man, you would’ve been flooded with shame. You’ve gotten yourself so fucking wet from simply riding him at a cruelly, leisurely pace, that your thick essence has patched itself around the public hair at the base of his shaft, slicking it back and bubbling away with a peeling squish — one that drizzles down and strings across his full balls. He can’t take it anymore, his hand sliding up your back and fisting into the back of your hair. You surrender, almost letting yourself get swept out to sea once more, but Steve brings you back into the moment. “Watch this with me, baby.”

Finding that overwhelming scene between your legs, Steve uses the strength in his hips to bounce you, your cream dripping onto his thigh, and — what’s at his base, sticking to your skin, the hair tickling your clit in ways that have your eyes rolling back. Everything inside of you shouts and tightens, taking hold and bolting you to him. He already feels it inside of your warmth, your walls fluttering, squeezing, pulling him impossibly deeper inside. “Fuck, I’m cumming, Steve. Baby, I can’t hold it, please —“

“Shh, shh. I know, honey. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He buzzes through a partial hiss, jaw agape as he feels it right on through with you. The pressure is almost too much, enough to knock him onto his ass.

You’re a whimpering, quivering heap of bones and flesh, body stuck so tightly to him that he’s holding you in his lap, fucking you on his cock as you take it now, Steve in charge of capturing the high. Another squelch in the quiet of the room, a warmth of arousal that’s accumulated below your ass, Steve’s palm shoving into yours, and his lips pry yours apart, tongue rudely licking its way into your mouth and you completely come undone, drenching him into his orgasm. If pulling out was on the table, the forsaken table is in shambles at the moment, Steve’s thick, hot release sinking into your insides, body welcoming him home.

By the time the prolonged highs end, Steve piles onto his back and takes you with him, silence blanketing the room as his hand finds the flesh of your tummy and massages. Aftercare will come soon, as your limits were damn near overpowered by your cock hungry need for your boyfriend and that monster he keeps in his pants. It makes you giggle as he smiles breathlessly, welcoming your cheek onto his hairy chest.

“Never seen you like that before,” he mumbles.

Your hair is a mess when you raise to answer. “It’s not my fault you wear those tight little jeans, Harrington.”

~*~

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb

[ckret2]

I love the fact that the axolotl is kind of a neutral entity.

Many headcanon it as a being that wants to do the righteous thing no matter what. But here it just seems to interfere when it's part of the deity job deal or out of curiosity.

And it's funny because bill thought as well that the Ax would be like a god of justice, and the way he reacted when he realized that was not the case it's so funny, but also made me wonder how they will interact with each other in the future!

Now bill knows the body isn't a punishment, is part of what he asked the ax for, to return, but he never said how he wanted to return, so I guess the ax it took the opportunity to temporarily? stop him. Maybe the ax isn't always trying to be righteous but i'm sure it does want to keep bill from destroying the universe.

I'm dying to know how this develops in the next chapters!

I saved this ask from last week's chapter since this week's goes even farther in making him a neutral entity, with Bill talking about stuff like how he handles "casual meet-and-greets."

I do think that the Axolotl very strongly believes in doing the righteous thing; but like... in the same way as a lawyer that takes pro bono cases for defendants who otherwise wouldn't stand a chance. (This is a No Lawyer Slander zone, this isn't a setup for "oh well if he's like an attorney then he's evil lol" joke.) A righteously-motivated lawyer can take cases all day that ensure a downtrodden defendant has his civil rights respected...

... but because of that, he's not taking the big flashy cases that go all the way to the Supreme Court and help nationally change civil rights. (But if he were taking the flashy cases, who would help THIS defendant?)

... and he might be the pro bono attorney of a mass murderer, in which case some people might think defending him AT ALL is contrary to their idea of justice. (But if he doesn't defend him, who will? Somebody's gotta defend that murderer.)

... and if he's in his office working and he sees a bird outside pecking at a bug, he might stop to watch.

... and when he commutes home after work, he might drive a car that burns gas and makes the environment just a little bit worse.

... and at home he'll probably watch TV rather than spend his precious downtime throwing himself into championing yet another social justice cause.

The Ax isn't a flawlessly Lawful Good Fantasy God, he's just some dude powerful enough you could call him a god if you believe in that kind of thing. And "some dude" can fight for justice without fighting for it EVERY SINGLE SECOND.

A pro bono attorney doesn't look like a figure of righteousness when he's commuting or watching TV or having lunch.

And it's probably hard to see what righteousness he's putting into the world at all if you're the bug getting pecked by the bird or splattering against his windshield. What does his "justice" mean to you? Today, Gravity Falls is the anthill.

And—in spite of the above metaphor—this isn't just some random shitty defendant. Bill Cipher is a big splashy Supreme Court change-the-divine-definition-of-justice court case.

#cosmicalunrest #ask #bill goldilocks cipher

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

paimon: when you say you're death, do you mean meta- god!reader: i don't metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or any other fancy way. i'm death. straight. up. (sorry couldn't resist gdjfgnfkjgn but jokes aside what do you think the god!reader story quest would be in the different routes?)

dsfdsfsdf honestly, that's probably how god!reader's proper introduction would be once it's discovered they're a god and what they're the god of lol. paimon would definitely mention the irony of a god of death being a dendro user after that (i discussed in another ask that god!reader almost ended up being electro, but i can see hydro god!reader as another possibility. like the ferryman on the river stix type of beat)

oooh but a story quest?? regardless of the route, i think one that focuses on their job as a god and the public perception of them would be really cool. maybe traveler and paimon even accompany them to the afterlife or some sort of realm that borders the lands of the living and the dead where god!reader might spend a large bulk of their time when they aren't donning a human identity. i like to think since death happens constantly, god!reader is typically in a non-corporeal form to be there for all of them and taking the deceased to the other side. you've witnessed the death of many over the centuries, mortal and divine alike and a lot of lore-related characters we've heard of over the game

but if it takes place in a route where you are romantically involved with one of the seven, i think there would be some differences give or take in a second story quest.

like in an ei route, for god!reader's second story quest she goes and visit inazuma and runs into our main traveler-paimon duo in ritou. we can get more context into the relationship pre-makoto death and maybe god!reader even goes into the specifics about some of the details they typically don't share about the job and how it led to arguments between her and ei due to their eventual clash in morals. but god!reader takes their time seeing how inazuma has changed in the centuries she's been gone since whenever she stopped by, it was for work (since i don't think even a storm can keep 'death incarnate' out of inazuma). it ends with ei showing up and them talking with hints of them potentially rekindling the relationship in the future.

with venti, the traveler and paimon accompany god!reader back to mondstadt after finding out they're actually married to venti and he has been getting antsy as to when the god!reader is making their return since no one back in mondstadt believes he's married. a pretty funny story quest since a bulk of it is venti smugly introducing god!reader to everyone as proof of his being married. but maybe there could be dash of angst as to traveler and paimon learning about when they first met. maybe on the day of the battle against decarabian when god!reader was doing their death god thing and venti first adopted his current avatar...

in zhongli's route, traveler and paimon bear witness to god!reader doing their wangsheng funeral parlor day job and learn more about how the parlor has incorporated amur into the rites and rituals of the parlor. death never stops and god!reader is working overtime

and for the upcoming archons, well we gotta get to know them first before i come up with anything uwu. but foçalors/focalors is really pretty so i would love to see her and god!reader in the same place lol

#look she's answering #genshin x reader #god!reader au #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader

[thosewildcharms]

The dreaded echelon briefing 😔 What was your interpretation of Michonne keeping her gaze steady on Rick when Jadis was spouting her propaganda and trying to make him feel selfish? It seemed like after the emotional work she and Rick did last episode she wanted to makes sure he stayed strong. Not gonna lie I’m so worried about Rick in the last episode (I’m fairly certain Michonne’s safe); “this world is broken, YOU build it back up” “things usually go to shit when people try to save the world in their own way” “til my last breath I’m yours” and the correlation of Rick’s childhood story about the burning crops and possibly burning the CRM to the ground. I know if it were up to Andy and Danai, Rick and Michonne would make it home to their babies. So much death and tragedy in the apocalypse can they please just let us have this 🥲

the dreaded echelon briefing. i don't know what it could possibly be but i know it's gotta be BAD bad.

rewatching that scene with rick, michonne and jadis, i like your interpretation because i think michonne is quite frankly always steadying rick lol but i also think something else was going on there. to me, the hard work in 1x04, as you aptly put it, was forcing rick to admit that he knows that going back to the CRM to keep their family safe is bullshit and just a self defense mechanism for his own trauma. so i don't think michonne is particularly worried about rick wavering at this point - she knows he's fine with killing jadis and going home, they just need the file first. rather, i think hearing jadis mention the "true size and scope of what the CRM is going to do to bring this world back" made michonne in particular realize right then and there that escaping the CRM wasn't enough, that they would have to stop them from doing whatever it is the echelon briefing is outlining. when jadis is talking, they both seem to realize she's hoping they'll leave not just to protect their childrean and alexandria from the CRM, but to protect the CRM from them. michonne held rick's gaze because a) they were coming to the same conclusion at the same time and b) she was silently communicating with him that what she was about to say ("this can't end with us going home") had a different meaning so he needed to follow her lead and play along.

as for being worried about rick. well.

i'll be the first to say that i'm terrible at making plot predictions lol i'm literally just here to watch my favorite people make out. but! i think you are right, that the show is clearly setting up some sort of big sacrifice for the greater good. it's been a constant theme since episode one, and i think the obvious conclusion to that would to be for rick (or michonne) to make the difficult decision to sacrifice themselves or each other for the greater good - if we are to take this foreshadowing at face value. BUT. the show is also very insistently trying to get us to draw comparisons between okafor/thorne/jadis and rick and michonne and giving us the constant refrain that while separately rick and michonne are vulnerable, together they can do anything. i think we are supposed to connect that while okafor, thorne, and jadis gave up not only their loved ones but their own sense of self to commit to the mission (whatever that mission may be for each of them), rick and michonne by contrast are not going to do that. rick, as i've said previously, already metaphorically killed himself for okafor's mission only for michonne to bring him back to life. why retread that? so, when i'm in a hopeful mood, i like to think that all of these red flags we're seeing are going to lead so some sort of fake out only for rick and michonne to figure out how to survive this and get home, while also protecting the world from the CRM. it's just that they may have to make a morally questionable choice, or some other sort of sacrifice, to do so. my best guess is that they might need to mass-kill all of those soldiers at the summit that's happening.

but, i do get it. i'm worried in general, not necessarily because of what's actually happening onscreen but because i've been burned so many times before that The Anxiety will not let my brain do anything other than assume the worst as a self-defense mechanism lol. that's just me personally trying to temper my own expectations though. my fear is actually the complete opposite of yours - i think AMC would keep rick and michonne alive indefinitely as they are clearly some of the biggest cash cows they have. my worry is that i think if andy (or danai) felt very strongly that their character should die or just wanted to be done with the franchise once and for all, that choice would be respected and honored. on the other hand, they have clearly demonstrated with these first five episodes that they are dedicated to giving their fans exactly what they want. and while i suppose episodes 4 and 5 in particular could be seen as a swan song before a tragic end, i don't think either one of them is stupid enough to think fans would be satisfied with losing either of these characters at this point. if rick dying was always the endgame, why not just kill him on the bridge in the first place? what would be the point of all of this? it wouldn't make any sense and it would be incredibly awful writing. michonne dying is simply so inconceivable to me i can't even contemplate it. still, anything can happen and i try to be prepared for that so i'll just say that should either rick or michonne die i'm sure danai and andy would do it justice and make it meaningful and respectful. i'm saying this through gritted teeth btw.

#richonne #the ones who live #twd #am i capable of answering an ask without writing a novel the world may never know #answered #just to reiterate re: that last paragraph #that's just MY anxiety brain doom spiraling and coming up with worst-case scenarios bc it doesn't know how to NOT do that #definitely not saying i have any evidence that andy OR danai have expressed such things nor am i trying to put words in their mouths #like this is very much a ME problem lmdasfsdkla

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Visions And Voices"

Maul returns to be a menace and freak both me and Ezra out.

Obligatory "I've already done a live reaction version of this episode" link.

From the very beginning, with just the washed out dingy lighting and the whooshing wind sound effect, this episode already feels unsettling. The atmospheric touches here with the storm and lightning and the camera movement and shot choice once things start happening evoke a horror movie.

The way they have Hera's voice fading out and going watery every time Maul calls to Ezra, the way Ezra keeps squinting and blinking and the tiny headshake he gives like he's trying to shake off some fatigue or jerk himself alert, make himself stop seeing things...

He looks so frightened. :(

COURSE I DON'T BLAME HIM WITH THE APPARITION OF MAUL LOOKING LIKE THIS.

Kanan and Zeb both trying to shake him awake after he faints. <3

I mentioned in my original liveblog but this episode gives me major Teen Titans 2003 "Haunted" vibes, with the plotline about a character being menaced by an imaginary villain only they can see. Rebels ultimately diverged from that parallel but my mental "If I had a nickel for every time" associations linger.

Something I loved about this episode was just how present everyone was for Ezra, how worried and concerned they were over him. Like here, all the members of the crew, even Chopper, are crowded in Kanan's room waiting for him to wake up.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: How Ezra touches the back of his neck like he's trying to rub out some stiffness or ache.

Oh hang on, did I just stumble across another Kanera-Sabezra mirror?

I DID! :D

Getting a little ahead of myself though, gotta appreciate this moment here with Ezra's fond little smile as Sabine bullies AP-5 about the munitions they're taking.

Also Sabine's "Can you believe this guy?" look lol.

Sabine immediately knows to send Chopper for Kanan. (Oh look, the two of them being the Most Important People in Ezra's life again. :D)

Sabine is very worried and alarmed this whole scene. She knows this isn't like him and oh ouch there are those Teen Titans "Haunted" feels come back to stab me again.

It's not actually clear what Maul was doing with this whole making-Ezra-see-him-everywhere trick--and you know it was deliberate, Ezra wasn't getting anything useful out of his end of the mind bond--but honestly the visions going unexplained are effectively creepy and unsettling enough. Personally I think it was one part to scare Ezra, make him doubt himself and his own mind, make him and everyone else think he was going crazy, and one part to manipulate him into doing something horrible he'd regret so that the Rebels would cast him out and drive him to Maul.

:((((

Hera understandably takes Ezra off the mission in light of events and heads it up herself. There's very soft worried mom energy radiating off her in this scene.

I'm kind of amazed Kanan and Sabine putting a tracker on Ezra without telling him didn't get any rancid takes complaining about how ~cLeArLy tOxIc~ it was. Maybe people actually remembered the part of Ezra's characterization where he tends to impulsively go off half-cocked to save people and figured, "Oh, Kanan's taking some obvious precautions in case he does that." Or maybe they decided given two previous kidnapping attempts Kanan was allowed a little paranoia over his kid.

Aaaaaaand this is the first we've heard Ezra's theme in a while.

(Note: Sabine has already painted one of Ezra's new Scout Trooper helmets, which he decides to wear to see Bendu. Even though the last time they rode the speeder into the Bendu's hollow he didn't bother wearing a helmet at all. Upgraded your comfort item/security blanket metaphor there, Ezra, eh?)

Full on horror strings here as we pan up to Maul just chilling like a creeper at the top of the hollow.

The way Ezra almost steps between Maul and Kanan. <3

Something I loved this episode was Ezra consistently rejecting Maul's attempts to touch him, smacking or shoving his hand off his shoulder, deliberately stepping away and keeping a distance.

Since a straightforward request was denied, Maul resorts to blackmail, threatening to broadcast the location of the base to the Empire and oof, Ezra's face.

Maul then dangles the "key to defeating the Sith" carrot in front of them, which activates Ezra's Hero Complex and hyper-responsibility and is what makes him agree to go. See, Maul is his responsibility, it's his fault Maul is even after them in the first place, so Ezra feels a sense of obligation to take care of him as a personal problem.

Love how Kanan says Phoenix Squadron will just wholecloth pack up and move to a new base in order to keep Ezra safe. I don't think it works like that Kanan, lol, but the spirit is appreciated.

Ezra's awfully confident that Maul won't hurt him and, ngl, that is not a risk I would have taken. But Kanan decides to trust Ezra and so the snippet of Ezra's theme that's been playing (marking his gesture of self-sacrifice) gives way to the same cue that played when Vader was descending on top of the TIE Advanced in "Twilight of the Apprentice", kind of an auditory callback to Malachor and the start of this whole arc.

Sabine's already getting the Phantom II prepped. <3

Dathomir looks appropriately hellish. Twisted gnarled trees, barren rocks, broken architecture, drenched in deep red with fog obscuring the horizon.

It's subtle at first and grows more obvious as the episode carries on but Maul is a little bit, ah... bipolar in his actions and displays of emotion here. He oscillates between speaking calmly, growling in frustration, outright snapping at Ezra sometimes, cackling to himself randomly, and of course dropping his voice down into that soft, vulnerable cadence that's his go-to whenever he wants to garner and play to Ezra's sympathies. Ezra takes his erratic behavior in stride, for the most part, doesn't flinch or comment on Maul's mood swings.

Really do love the environment work Rebels does. <3

Ezra flippantly dismissing Maul's murder hoard as "junk" lol.

"Fun" easter egg to note: The scrawled Mand'oa on the wall spells KENOBI.

Aaaaaaand our introduction of the plot device that is the darksaber, displayed prominently under a cubist painting of Satine, whose theme plays as Ezra examines the darksaber. This reference is pure fanservice for TCW fans. It basically means nothing to me emotionally, I was never a fan of Satine or her romance with Obi-Wan, so mostly I just feel offended and creeped out on her behalf that a painting of her got hauled to Maul's murder cave and defaced.

(Interesting to note that the slashes of... paint?... blood?... stuff crosses out Satine's eyes and cuts her throat. Is Maul reveling in his murder of her, trying to relive it by destroying her image? Did he stub out her eyes to stop her from "staring" at him? Who knows.)

Okay I lied, Ezra flinches precisely once, right after Maul yells at him not to touch the darksaber.

I like to think it was possibly calling out to him, the kyber crystal inside a natural siren song to Force wielders, and that's how Ezra knows it's some kind of lightsaber and not just a weird stick.

Love the drums in this music cue. It's got some exotic-sounding eastern instruments in it too, I think I might hear a bit of didgeridoo?

Subtle animation appreciation moment: How Ezra screws up his face in preparation to down the potion, it obviously doesn't smell or taste very good lol.

The music turns frantic and rushing when we cut the Sabine and Kanan landing out, like it's telling them to hurry. More exotic instruments, some kind of tinny percussion, cymbals maybe?

Right, so this episode was clearly another Halloween special right? Has all the perfect trappings of one lol.

Maul strays into Dangerously Genre Savvy here; he never intended to pay for using the Nightsisters' magick himself and his dialogue to Ezra seems to indicate he didn't intend to sacrifice Ezra to them either. So his plan was either to evade the spirit witches long enough to get away scott free, or he was counting on other members of the Spectres to come after Ezra trying to save him.

Either way, it leads to one of the creepiest scenes in the show.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The bewildered way Kanan's head jerks around right before the Nightsister spirit possesses him, like he can tell that something freaky is there but he can't tell what or where.

The unnatural character movement the animators use for Possessed!Kanan and Possessed!Sabine is really good; they're limp like puppets for a bit before the spirits take full control, and even afterwards move in jerky, inhuman motions.

And thus a half-dozens angst!fics were written lol. (And still not nearly enough.)

Ngl, Maul technically does show Ezra how to save his friends buuuuut he gets no points for that since he clearly thought Ezra would just write them off and come with him.

I'm still amazed he didn't just kidnap him right there. Kenobi obsession too strong I guess.

Other people have already pointed out the irony of Maul screaming at Ezra to forget the past and his attachments while himself being obsessed with the past and clearly trying to use Ezra as a Replacement Goldfish for Savage but I'll mention that anyway.

You know, the Fridge Horror of this episode is really unsettling. I know at least one fanficcer and @better-call-mau1 have asked the question of how, exactly, does possessing Kanan and Sabine allow the Nightsisters to rebuild their clan? They're either going to use Kanan and Sabine to perform some kind of freaky necromancy ritual, use them to lure other Rebels in (seems like it'd have limited effectiveness, eventually Rebel Command would decide retrieval isn't worth it), or they would rebuild the clan using more... ah... conventional means.

Add that unsettling thought to how possessed Sabine seems to stalk Ezra, specifically, while the possessed Kanan returns to the altar and fkhkhffjhjhgggfgjjjj--

Yeah.

"That doesn't belong to you!" "Then take it from me, Jedi!" Are they talking about the darksaber or Sabine's body?

...Yes.

This music cue is amazing. Possessed Sabine scrabbling on the ground like a feral animal while Ezra just calmly Force Pushes her out of the threshold is excellently staged.

Well that's a heart eyes expression if I ever saw one lol.

Sometimes I like to listen to different language tracks for specific dramatic parts of shows or movies, to see how other actors do it, compare performance notes and kjsahfkajshfkajh one of the Chinese Nightsister-possessed Kanans was one of the most horrifying scary things I've ever heard.

This scene is just heartwrenching. A lot of this episode was spoiled in the trailers so this maybe didn't have as much dramatic impact as it should have had at the time but I still found it pretty gut-punching. A little short, maybe. That's about it.

This is one of Ezra's finer moments, frankly, outsmarting and defeating the Nightsister spirits. You really feel the care he has for Kanan. Love it. <3

From the moment Ezra said that the answer to destroying the Sith was "Obi-Wan Kenobi" I think I knew it was a false flag and what Maul had manipulated him to see. Because, obviously, they key is Luke.

Interesting how Ezra thinks if Obi-Wan doesn't, eventually, fight, that the Sith can't be stopped. He's pinning a lot of hopes on a man who doesn't, ultimately, wind up being the narrative Chosen One who accomplishes that task. Again, more on that later in "Twin Suns".

Ezra seems to pay Sabine a glance as he passes, aww.

*PORTENTS OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT*

This episode is one of my favorites, and the "Haunted" mental connections are only one of the reasons why. It's got great dialogue, creepy suspense, adorable subtle Sabezra moments, furthering of Maul's slow mental degradation and descent into full ruin, and Ezra gets to be amazingly self-sacrificing, brave, and awesome in it. What's not to love?

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabezra #space dad and his precious pumpkin child #rebels rewatch #kanan x hera #liveblog

[dangerously-human]

for the fic writer game: 3, 4 for take his hand, 8, 20 for merry metamorphosis (am I trying to make you write pregnancy fic... maybe), 27 for ch2 of here's a safe place, 37, 49

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

I write a lot of family life for traumatized characters, stuff that requires a lot of intentional growth but also leaves space for tenderness. Love me some literal sleeping together, too. I mostly write post-canon, and a lot of introspection. And I think I'm always working off of an assumption of redeeming the narrative, in a sense - not that things will always go well, but they will always have meaning. It's the Christian worldview, I suppose.

4. What detail in [Take His Hand] are you really proud of?

Honestlyyyy, I could wax rhapsodic talking about this fic and how it came to be. Lucy's chapter may be killing me a little bit, but there were parts of Lockwood's that truly feel like they came from outside of me (we've talked before about the Holy Spirit influence on this one). I know I already mentioned this in my reply to your comment, but the fact that Lockwood was praying with his old rosary beads from when he was a kid when the call from Penelope Fittes comes in says a lot. It's a nod to (part of) what Lockwood chose to pray about, after all those years of distance - the right opportunity to invite Lucy to come home - and it also ties the success of the company to a lasting legacy for the Lockwood family, which is such a key aspect of understanding Lockwood himself and just what he's trying to include Lucy in. It also says that he unpacked the literal box of memories, however painful, even if he's not 100% ready to unpack the metaphorical one - except he has started to, he's praying and acknowledging the God he feels let him down (or maybe the other way around, depending on the day), and he's doing this thing that reminds him so strongly of Jessica and their shared grief. It's not "solved," Lockwood still has a long way to go and a lot of Jacob-like wrestling with the Lord to do, but at least he's stopped running in the opposite direction and actually let himself feel something - which is what the Black Winter is all about, in his arc. I could go on about this for ages, truly.

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

Captives Come Home by Run Kid Run is just BEGGING for Other Side fic, - please, the number of times the lyrics repeat stuff about creeping shadows and the other side! - and maybe I'll write it eventually but I'd be equally happy to read it if someone else did. Would love to see it start with Lockwood and Lucy's first crossing ("There's hope inside that box you close/That only opens when your life explodes/On the other side, come home"), then tackle when the whole crew is there ("Don't you know you gotta get up/Get up and find a way back home?/So hold on tight, let's go/Leave behind false sense of hope/Where creeping shadows call your name") and then focus on post-canon efforts to clear the fences so the captive spirits can finally reach their final destinations ("As I'm waiting for the world to end/I'm clinging on to oxygen/I'm pulling captives by the hand/Come home, come home"). I have not shut up since my first read through TCS about the Harrowing of Hell imagery and, yeah, I just think I deserve this one, as a treat.

20. If you wrote a prequel to [A Merry Metamorphosis], what would it involve?

I know I already said this to you the other day, but bestie, do I have good news for you! Next (new) project on the list is literally this. 😆 To be fair, it doesn't exactly take a lot to encourage me to write pregnancy/kidfic, lol. But yeah, been thinking a lot about protectiveness and what that would look like for Lucy and Lockwood as they prepare for a baby, and how that would interact with their work (logistically and emotionally), considering they're still pretty young when they have Ivy.

27. How long did it take to write [Here's a Safe Place to Lay Your Heart Down ch. 2]? Describe the process.

FKlejgklaegl well. According to the date I created that Scrivener file, parts of that chapter were written in early September, and I just published it to AO3 last weekend, so you can do the math. Here's the thing about Lay Your Heart Down: while the core themes/message remained the same throughout, it went through several iterations in how I conceptualized it, and that made the writing process AGONIZING, because it was a constant repetition of knit/purl steps and untangling and reworking. (I don't knit, so take my metaphor with a grain of salt.) Honestly, this mostly came about because I kept asking myself if The Necklace counted as an engagement ring in Lockwood's mind, which obviously I kind of answered in Woke Up in a Safe House Singing, and that pivoted to a very vivid idea of how Lockwood would think about picking out a ring for Lucy and what it would look like and why. So. That could have been a drabble, but I also have a lot of feelings about the Touch/possession scene in the second episode, and that had to go somewhere!! And overlapped a lot, thematically. So a lot of the Lockwood having a self-isolating freakout stuff from ch. 2 was written first, plus the bit immediately after THB with the broken headphones and remembering watching Lucy dancing. All that used to be together in one chapter, which was going to be sandwiched between Lockwood picking out the ring and a sweet future scene that featured the ring somehow - the narrative started out even less linear than it ended up. (That final scene is now its own WIP.) Then I ended up with all the canon-era relationship development in the first chapter and the second could focus on that core conflict, Lockwood panicking about those lines from the show - "he gave me the ring, he wouldn't hurt me" - but in the context of all the various ways he could get Lucy hurt, because old conflicts (internal and interpersonal) tend to reemerge at transition points like the engagement period. A couple things that got me unstuck with this chapter were actually writing out more of what happened on the job that went wrong, letting Lucy be more upset (while still understanding), working out that Lockwood's fear this time was less about Lucy getting hurt and more about being the reason for that happening, and drawing direct parallels to Fairfax and Annabel (which in turn let me work in that good stuff about devotion and mutual belonging).

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

I'm not shocked Onward, Ontologically has gotten very few eyes on it - if nothing else, Continuum is a tiny fandom, even less active now than when I was originally writing for it, plus Kiera and Alec are a complicated ship (I'm often curious if they would still be a rarepair if the fandom were larger, though - I could see it going either way). It worked for my Yuletide recipient, though, and that's all that really matters. I really like the quiet domesticity of it, and that it leaves space for the S3 conflict between Alec and Kiera to remain somewhat unresolved - I like complicated, and I don't think an easy resolution would have been realistic after everything these two went through and did to each other, and the tangled doppelganger web.

Within this fandom, one I wish got a little more love was Smoke & Shield. Gen is usually a bit, idk the right word, quieter? So I wasn't expecting as much excitement as with my Locklyle works, but I do think it's a really good character study of Jessica and her relationship with her little brother. I got some truly lovely comments on it that tell me it still found an audience to resonate with, though!

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Well, since you attacked us all with baby fever, here's a snippet from the "Lucy learns she's pregnant with #4 via George's powers of observation" fic. (I don't think I've posted this bit before? Idk, this is the problem with lingering WIPs!) I've been WIP-hopping a lot, but this is one that's gotten a bit more focus lately:

With arms outstretched to take one twin off my husband’s hands, I explained, “I’m not even sure yet myself. It honestly hadn’t occurred to me until George said something, but…” My voice got smaller as I finished, “I think he might be right.” Transfer completed, Lockwood let his hand linger, then drop to hover just over my belly. At the open wonder on his face, I blushed. It wasn’t as though we hadn’t done this part before - twice, in fact - yet it seemed even at the mere possibility, he couldn’t help looking at me like I was made of something magic. To be fair, that wasn’t all that far off from Lockwood’s normal.

#personal #writer probs: fanfic edition #lockwood & co

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, Jade Harley, Calliope, Aradia Megido, Sollux Captor, Karkat Vantas, John Egbert, Gamzee Makara, Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Jane Crocker, Jake English

Candy, page 21

ROXY: thx everyone for joining us today

ROXY: we are gathered here to honor the memory of alternate universe jade

ROXY: alas we hardly knew her

ROXY: by which i mean we didnt know her at all

ROXY: cuz she fell out of the sky like a week ago and was already dead

ROXY: but i think that based on our long acquaintanceship with alive jade we can safely assume that she was totally rad

JADE: (ugh)

ROXY: so were all here to contemplate the vast cruelness of the universe that such radness was plucked in its prime

ROXY: psst callie the roses

CALLIOPE: oh, of coUrse!

CALLIOPE: pUrple roses traditionally represent love at first sight, however these roses are actUally red roses that we prepared Using a blUe dye.

CALLIOPE: the blUe rose is the most elUsive and mysterioUs of all flowers.

CALLIOPE: the combination of red and blUe in this context is meant to evoke the dUal natUre of death, in that there is nothing more mysterioUs and impossible to comprehend than the vast void of the afterlife, bUt also there is nothing that makes Us appreciate the life and and love that we already have than the mystery of death.

CALLIOPE: while death is terrifying, there is always joy to be foUnd among the sorrow. each time we witness death, we fall in love with the important people in oUr lives all over again.

ROXY: woah callie thats a beautiful metaphor

CALLIOPE: aw, thank yoU roxy. u_u

ROXY: dont sound so humble it is v v deep

CALLIOPE: i jUst can’t take credit for external inspiration.

ROXY: lmao cmon callie youre the literal muse

CALLIOPE: yes, bUt yoU’re...

ARADIA: oh no did we miss the entire corpse party

ARADIA: i hope not

SOLLUX: yes that w0uld be *such* a tragedy.

ARADIA: oh shush you

ARADIA: the tragedy is what i dont want to miss!

KARKAT: ARADIA?

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT... SOLLUX?!

SOLLUX: hey l0ser. it’s been a l0ng time.

KARKAT: IT’S BEEN A...

KARKAT: IT’S BEEN A “LONG TIME”?!

KARKAT: IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY TO ME?! IT’S BEEN MORE THAN A FUCKING HUMAN DECADE!

KARKAT: I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE DEAD.

ARADIA: no i wasnt dead

KARKAT: NO, I MEAN LIKE

KARKAT: “GONE FOREVER”??

KARKAT: I THOUGHT THAT YOU TWO LITERALLY DIDN’T EXIST ANYMORE!

KARKAT: OR AT THE VERY LEAST WERE TRAPPED IN A DEAD UNIVERSE PERPETUALLY COLLAPSING INTO ITS OWN ASSHOLE.

SOLLUX: 0h. n0pe.

KARKAT: FINE!

KARKAT: WALTZ IN HERE WITH NO EXPLANATION WHATSOEVER. SOUNDS ABOUT FUCKING RIGHT.

KARKAT: IT’S NOT LIKE YOUR SUDDEN AND UNEXPLAINED PRESENCE IS ANY LESS OF A JOKE THAN THIS “FUNERAL” WE’RE HAVING.

KARKAT: I MEAN, WHY STOP AT SOLLUX AND ARADIA?

KARKAT: MAYBE FUCKING NEPETA IS ABOUT TO POUNCE FROM BEHIND THAT GROTESQUE STATUE OF THE HUMAN SUFFERER T-POSING OVER THERE.

KARKAT: NEPETA, ARE YOU THERE? COME ON OUT! THE CORPSE PARTY WOULDN’T BE THE SAME WITHOUT YOU!

ROXY: SHOOSH everyone!

ROXY: there will be a reception with cake n candy after the service

ROXY: u all can have ur poignant reunions then

ROXY: before we unite in tearful togetherness we gotta unite in tearful loss

JOHN: wait... there’s more?

JOHN: i thought that nice speech callie made was, like...

JOHN: pretty much the funeral.

ROXY: lol no

ROXY: callie and i were just gettin started

JADE: oh my god...

ROXY: anyway where was i?

CALLIOPE: how the infinite mystery of death makes Us appreciate the love we have!

ROXY: right

ARADIA: so i see you managed to get out of the fridge

GAMZEE: i DiDn’T jUsT gEt OuT oF tHe FrIdGe, I wAs SeT fReE sIsTeR!

ARADIA: i see

GAMZEE: wHeN tHe DoOr Of ThAt FrIdGe pOpPeD oPeN iT wAs LikE i Be AlL sEeIn ThE lIgHt AnD sHiT.

SOLLUX: well yeah

SOLLUX: that’s what happens when s0me0ne 0pens a d00r t0 a t0tally dark encl0sure.

SOLLUX: fuck, i can’t believe y0u’re still this stupid.

SOLLUX: 0h wait i can.

GAMZEE: nO bRoThEr, It’S a MoThErFuCkIn MeTaPhOr.

GAMZEE: A mEtApHoR fOr ThE mIrAcLe Of rEdEmPtIoN!

ARADIA: redemption

GAMZEE: yEaH cHeCk It ThE fUcK oUt.

GAMZEE: i DiD My MoThErFuCkInG rEdEmPtIoN aRc. :o)

ARADIA: is that so

GAMZEE: i BeEn DoInG aLl KiNdS oF gOoD dEeDs At ThE lOsT mOtHeRfUcKeRs.

GAMZEE: pReAcHiNg ThE hOlY wOrD. mAkInG oUt WiTh OrPhAns.

ARADIA: oh hmm

SOLLUX: isn’t it “kissing 0rphans”?

ARADIA: let him talk sollux

GAMZEE: i EvEn GoT a HeAlThY mUtUaLlY fUlLfIlLiNg kIsMeSiS gOiN oN wItH tHaT fOxY hUmAn BrOaD uP fRoNt.

ARADIA: its so nice that you believe all that gamzee

ARADIA: i think i can honestly say

ARADIA: im reasonably happy for you?

ROXY: omg quiet in the back already!

ROXY: were tryin to have a beautiful and solemn proceeding up here

ARADIA: oh im sorry

ARADIA: i do agree that its a beautiful corpse party

ARADIA: but i think it would be even MORE beautiful if we could you know

ARADIA: actually see the corpse?

KARKAT: OH MY GOD ARADIA, WHY ARE YOU STILL LIKE THIS?

ROXY: oh lol ur right i cant believe that slipped my mind

ROXY: hey jake a lil help?

ROXY: im like hella pregnant here and shouldnt be doing any heavy lifting

JADE: ughhh...

DAVE: yo babe its ok

JADE: easy for you to say! youve got practice with this kind of thing!

DAVE: just remember its not actually your corpse

DAVE: i mean technically it is

DAVE: it both is and isnt your corpse at the same time

DAVE: which yeah the longer you think about it like that the more fucked up it gets

DAVE: but also when you objectively think about it the combined multiverse is a huge tangle of interrelated but totally random events and its only chance that this specific life is the one you ended up living

DAVE: you and that corpse could have just as easily switched places

DAVE: but also that would never actually happen because its not how paradox space works

DAVE: anyway my point is that nothing really matters so chill out

JADE: um, i love you with all my heart dave but youre REALLY not helping right now

ARADIA: now this is more like it

JADE: i cant look...

DAVE: oh

DAVE: here

JADE: uhh... what... are you doing??

DAVE: emotional support yo

ROSE: Dave.

DAVE: what

DAVE: id like to see you do better

KANAYA: Me Too Actually

ROSE: I’m sorry, but I’m not the one whose questionable consolation tactics are on trial here.

CALLIOPE: this isn’t a trial! it’s a fUneral!

JOHN: haha, they’ve got a point rose, you gotta admit.

ROSE: A point about what?

JOHN: um...

JOHN: you’re not great at consolation? just saying.

KANAYA: Oh You Dont Know The Half Of It

ROSE: Excuse all of you, but I’m an excellent advice giver.

JADE: umm nobody said anything about advice giving rose...

JOHN: oh yeah, the advice is top notch.

JOHN: but you’re kind of a weird person to like... cry in front of?

JOHN: no offense.

ROSE: What??

JOHN: the first time i ever got upset in front of rose irl, she put her arms around me and it was so awkward that i had to ask her if she was hugging me or reaching for something on the shelf behind me.

CALLIOPE: everyone, we’re getting rather off track...

ROSE: I was doing both for your information.

DAVE: the first time rose hugged me it was such a disaster we didnt make eye contact for like a week after

KANAYA: Jade Come Here I Shall Hold You In My Arms

JADE: thank you kanaya at least ONE of you knows how to treat a lady in distress!

JANE: Agreed. I’ve always felt that Kanaya has done an exemplary job of providing a model for compassionate, empathetic behavior, which others of her kind would do well to follow.

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?

JANE: I’m sorry, Mr. Vantas. Do you have another unsolicited political opinion you’d like to share with everyone?

KARKAT: CONSIDERING THE SHIT GEYSER THAT JUST SHOT OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE CANNON, I’D SAY MY OPINION IS PRETTY FUCKING SOLICITED RIGHT ABOUT NOW.

CALLIOPE: EVERYONE!

CALLIOPE: be qUiet!!!!!

CALLIOPE: please. roxy gathered yoU all here for a reason.

CALLIOPE: at least listen Until the end.

CALLIOPE: after that yoU can argUe all you want.

ROXY: look everyone im not dumb ok even tho i act like it sometimes

ROXY: i know whats goin on here

ROXY: that were all drifting apart

ROXY: and i know thats just a normal part of growing up and making new families

ROXY: and i guess learning that some people have unbridgeable divides on political stuff

ROXY: i can accept that things arent gonna always be the same as when we first met

ROXY: specially with dirk gone

ROXY: damn...

ROXY: even though its been more than a year i still feel it like he died yesterday

ROXY: what callie said earlier about death being mysterious and full of love is true

ROXY: i dont know if i ever would have gotten up the courage to marry john if dirk hadnt died

ROXY: sometimes i think about what it would have been like if he was still here

ROXY: i think we can all agree that if dirk didnt kill himself there would be some big differences in the lives of people here in this room

ROXY: i cant say if theyd be good or bad

ROXY: maybe when it comes to this kind of thing... like

ROXY: infinite probability and multiple universes and shit

ROXY: good and bad dont matter

ROXY: theres no better or worse just different

ROXY: even with dead jade here whos to say that the world she came from was actually worse than ours?

ROXY: she probably died a heroic death doin something incredible

ROXY: we probably only have the great lives we do right now because of her sacrifice

ROXY: the universal odds of us all being alive and healthy and together like this are so infinitesimally low that its literally impossible for us to understand with our limited linear consciousness

ROXY: isnt that amazing??

ROXY: so even if this is the last time were all ever in the same room like this

ROXY: i think its just incredible we could be here in the first place

ROXY: out of a sempiternal number of possibilities we are the only incarnation of this exact specific moment in all of existence

ROXY: i think that we should all look around and be super grateful for what we

ROXY: wh... what we

ROXY: wh... wha...

ROXY: whoah fuck

CALLIOPE: roxy? are yoU okay?

ROXY: of course im not ok i just WENT INTO FREAKING LABOR

JOHN: oh my god!

JOHN: oh my god!

JOHN: it’s happening, oh my god!!

JOHN: ...

JOHN: oh my GOD!!!

ROXY: omg john are you just gonna keep shouting oh my god or are you GONNA HELP YOUR WIFEY OUT

JOHN: OH MY GOD!!!!!

JOHN: doing ok there, sweetheart?

ROXY: ugh whyd i let you put this thing inside me

JOHN: don’t worry roxy! we’ll get it out as soon as we can!

JOHN: er, by “it,” i mean our child.

JOHN: we probably shouldn’t be talking about him in dehumanizing terms before he’s even born, huh?

JOHN: seems like kind of a bad omen?

ROXY: omg.......... john SHUT UP

ROXY: i need like six gallons of demerol STAT

ROXY: lets GOOO

JOHN: right! going!

CALLIOPE: wait! i...

CALLIOPE: i woUld like to be there as well!

JOHN: hurry up then!

JADE: AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

JAKE: By jove!

DAVE: jesus fuck

CALLIOPE: jade! yoU...

CALLIOPE: yoU’re alive!

CALLIOPE: or, Um,

CALLIOPE: yoU’re not dead!

JADE: i am not jade.

CALLIOPE: then who...

CALLIOPE: who are yoU?

JADE: you know who i am, calliope.

JADE: we met once, years ago.

JADE: you were dead, and so was i.

KANAYA: This Certainly Is A Turn Of Events

ARADIA: ill say

ARADIA: at first i was underwhelmed with the proceedings i have to admit

ARADIA: but that was quite the twist

ARADIA: this may be one of the best death related celebrations ive ever seen :)

SOLLUX: t0p five at least.

JADE: you’re undoubtedly surprised.

JADE: but these events were not unpredictable at all.

JADE: this is exactly what i have been expecting to happen.

JADE: and while i cannot say the same thing for the rest of you,

JADE: i, at least, am exactly where i am meant to be.

JAKE: Hey uh.

JAKE: Not to come off as a total idiot here but...

JAKE: Who were you supposed to be again?

JADE: my name is calliope.

JADE: i am the muse of space.

JADE: and i have entered this body to protect your world.

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #roxy lalonde #jade harley #calliope #aradia medigo #sollux captor #karkat vantas #john egbert #gamzee makara #dave strider #rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #jane crocker #jake english #candy epilogue #page 21

[justsomeunsurefancat]

heyyyyy :3

just coming from listening to Nate's whole Sandcastle Kingdoms album and-

CHILLS

Idek which one is my fav they're all so good!!

also i listened to One Way Ticket and YES THAT IS SO DABI-

thx sm for the recs!! btw what's your fav nwtb song? 👀 (original song or cover, whichever lol)

I'm glad you liked it! (Damn you mentioning the album remided that I haven't actually took the time to listen to the whole albums. I'll probably do that. I must have missed on some of his songs)

I knew it! I love how there's fire metaphors because that's important to FNAF lore, but it also fits Dabi perfectly!

He's got so many good songs I can't pick just one lol. I have a soft spot for all his original FNAF songs though, because that's how I discovered him, maybe Mangled is my favorite of those.

From Sancastle Kingdoms it's probably We Are Ignited, Stop Rewind and Live Long Enought To Become a Hero.

Also I love FVKD, it was a collab with Kellin Quinn, he's the vocalist of Sleeping with Sirens, who I also like, so it was cool to see a collab between them. Also the song is SO 2000's I love it so much.

As for covers, All Hail Shadow, Escape the City, Gotta go Fast, Sonic Heroes and The Rumbling are some of my favorite covers.

Nate has a lot of music so if you want to listen to more of his stuff I'd recommend taking your time, or else you might get very overwhelmed.

[prettysymbiosis]

the gang gets cursed

“how long’s it been?” “too long” 🙊

“what if they edit it to make me look stupid or something?” yeah what if charlie was in a show that made him seem dumber than he actually is? that would really suck

does mac consider the good luck to be that someone could come in and save them from themselves? like does mac just want to be on tv or does he want to be fixed?

dennis: “how the bar comes across is a reflection of how I come across” charlie: “yes!” the bar is the show… they don’t want to make a silverfish show. they’re finally trying to clean up the rot inside their characters :)

charlie is mad at mac for messing things up as he’s trying to fix them - in a literal sense I know that’s an old charlie work dynamic but also charlie in an emotional sense has been getting his shit together this season, like he is doing the real Charlie Work and he’s sick of the gang sabotaging themselves and him!!

charlie’s face when he realizes he might’ve called an old lady a cunt too… I’m telling you he’s becoming a better person

I love this magical, mysterious side of sunny btw! it’s more playful and cinematic

“well if you’re gonna whip it out, we’re on the clock” you tell him cricket! that line makes me laugh every time

also cricket telling mac he’s gotta pick a lane like bro you don’t even know. this guy finally admits he’s gay as hell but he won’t stop eating nuts and believing his mom loves him

big mac lol

CHARLIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (this was when he was telling uncle jack to fuck off and that was my only note)

“do I look like I’m at sea, mom?” “I don’t know…” I think this has metaphorical significance

dennis saying “I get that now” about what leads to curses… okay so maybe you should try being a better person and then you’ll feel better idiot :)

I really liked the way the storylines came together via the pet cemetery, definitely got a kick out of the writing there

I almost forgot to say anything about maureen but rest in power and the fact that dennis is finally burying her and everything she represented seems pretty significant!!!

“cause what they believe influences their actions. but actions do have consequences. like lying, mac.” YEAH MAC (and then he gets lied to next episode... when will it end)

“we know we should be at work” I love when the gang acknowledges never being at the bar

mac may or may not be lucky, but he sure as HELL is devoted. we know this!!!! it’s crazy he’d really be perfect for a guy like dennis… huh weird

there was never any luck one way or the other was there

the ending 😎

so far two mentions of mac having kids and two mentions of “the bigger picture”... not sure what to think yet but I am paying attention

#sunny #always sunny #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #s16e3 #the gang gets cursed #sunny meta #I've enjoyed every episode so far like no flops for me #it's fun to have fun :) #can't wait to see uncle jack die tbh