#obligatory cross post

[neomechanical]

rollcake rollcake, yummy yummy yummy!

#obligatory cross post #furby #2005 furby #rollcake #:D #baby 2005 furby #emototronic furby #my furbys #cornflower #chicken borger #furblr #sand baby furby #sleepy pink furby #food #my cute lil bunny tea set aswell

[eriochromatic]

Happy Cross Guild Valentine’s Day!!

What did you receive from your secret admirers? 🍫💐🧸

#one piece #cross guild #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #erio art #erio stuff #obligatory valentine's day post

[moongothic]

i would love trans crocodile but im very cynical that oda would write him in a respectful manner. thats not even thinking of how horrible that one portion of the one piece fandom would treat him

Yeah the fandom sucks and I'm going to strangle everyone (including the cishets who claim to be trans allies and then use "Crocomom")

But with Oda it's weird because like. The more I think about it, the more I'm like... 50/50 about Oda being able to actually deliver good, respectful trans masc rep.

Like I've posted about this before but One Piece does have this on-going theme of having characters "stuck in wrong bodies" or "having one's body changed" (sometimes reversably, sometimes irreversably; sometimes against their will, sometimes consentually). Which, in theory, in my mind, does kind of signal that on some level Oda understands the idea of being "the wrong sex" (whether or not that's a good way to explain The Trans Experience™ is a whole different subject but it's an old fashioned explanation that Oda would probably be/is familiar with) But at the same time, while the concept pops up again and again in One Piece, Oda doesn't really dwell too deep into the idea of what that's like. Like, emotionally. How it feels like to like, get turned into a toy or be a child who gets aged 20 years or to get turned into a cyborg or a giant child or have parts of your body permanently turned into animal parts (sometimes with a will of their own) etc

And like. Part of me understands why, Oda does tend to want to focus on writing a story he thinks teenaged boys would be interested in reading, and he has often stated he wants to have fun with his story too (like that's partially why Luffy's a Rubber Man, because Oda thought giving Luffy a ridiculous ability would make him more fun to write and draw long-term, which is valid as hell) This is why for example Oda has avoided doing any romances in OP, and while there are dark themes in the story, often he has done his best to avoid making them too blatant, as some things would be too mature for his youngest readers (like, for example until Kuma's backstory, it was never explicitly stated what would happen to the slave wives of the Tenryuubito, even saying it was "implied" would be pushing how that subject had been treated until now)

So like. Because of that, I understand why Oda hasn't dwelled into The Feelings™ part much/at all despite the "stuck in the wrong body" narrative appearing time and time again

Either Oda thinks it'd be too boring either for himself or his readers, or he hasn't dwelled into it because he doesn't really understand gender dysphoria and can't relate to the experience (despite how often it shows its face in OP). Or it could be both, even

The thing is though, as OP has gone on, while I wouldn't say Oda has "broken his writing rules", Kuma's backstory alone has pushed them to a new limit with the love-that-never-was story and the all-but-explicitly-stated storytelling.

So a part of me wonders, if Crocodile is trans, could Oda actually like... take a slightly deeper look into his feelings and explore his queer experience? ('Cause god knows, if Crocodad Real, then there really would be a literal coming out-story built into his backstory that would be extremely unavoidable, and as I've mentioned before, the fact that we haven't gotten to learn almost anything about his backstory yet is Kinda Fucking Sus)

Also I do want to mention how... like Oda gets a lot of bad rap when it comes to queer rep in One Piece, but the more I think about it, I think it's more an issue with the terminology and how translators have gone about either localizing it, or more often than not, leaving it unlocalized 'Cause like. Yes the "okama" would be horrible trans rep but... really... they're not trans representation. They're representation for draq queens. Piss poor draq rep, but still, they're draq queens. And just like our very real life drag performers; some of them are cishets. Some of them are gender non-conforming gay men. Some of them are nonbinary*. Some of them are trans women. Obviously lumping all of these people into one group is kinda offensive (which is why "okama" is (as far as I understand it) such an unpopular term even amongst queer people in Japan), and the way Oda often chooses to draw these characters looks no different to how gender criticals choose to present trans women in their propaganda.

*Like Bon-chan, who explicitly states they are both male and female. And Iva-chan, who switches between boy-mode and girl-mode from time to time, could arguably be called genderfluid (though any specific terminology is up to debate). Both are nonbinary draq queens.

And yet, despite all that. It can not be understated how if you put aside the nameless background gag-characters, Oda does treat the actual, proper queer characters with respect. Everyone would agree that Bon-chan is an absolute hero, we would all die for them. Iva-chan (and Inazuma too) is explicitly presented in a heroic light, seen as someone who helps people and fights for justice (with the Revs)

And then there's the first binary trans characters we've actually gotten, Okiku and Yamato. And I'm pretty sure we would all agree Okiku is 10/10 perfect trans fem representation (I am not entirely serious, I'm not trans fem so I can't speak for trans women here, it's just that I can't see anything Horrendously Wrong with how Okiku is presented within the story- not actually perfect but all things considdered, damn good). She is stunning, people around her (INCLUDING SANJI!!) don't just view her as a woman but would go out of their way to date her (as in, she is seen as "desirable", and not as some kind of a disgusting freak to avoid), she is heroic and sweet and kind and just. IDK I love her And while I'm sure many trans mascs would agree Yamato may not be how they want to be seen by the world (though having Yamato ID as a man while having the biggest moobs is surely validating for a lot of people, including anybody who might not want or be able to get top surgery and/or HRT), again, he is only presented as heroic within the narrative and respected by the characters around him, Luffy especially, which is by far the most important part; the protagonist going out of his way to be respectful of trans characters does represent the values of the story.

And like.

Think about how Oda has treated Crocodile so far.

Like, although we're all having a bit of a laugh over the whole Cross Guild thing, Oda is still treating him as a cool character whom he presents seriously and treats with respect. Like Oda wants the readers to see Crocodile as at least a little bit cool. So I can't imagine him pulling a full 180 with how Croc would be treated in the story if he was revealed to be trans, especially when the potential foreshadowing for that was laid out in the story years ago already.

All this to say; Oda is not perfect at all, but considdering the things he has gotten right so far, I think there is hope he could pull it off. Because Oda is for Queer Liberation.

Really, my only concerns would be whether or not there's a risk Crocodile could get somehow detrans'd during the story (I'm praying the Haki theory isn't an option, really Doc Q might be the only true risk here), if he's stealth and that got presented as "a wrong thing to do" (which I'd hope not, like our previous queer characters have been okay with being openly queer but that may have been more for the readers than anything else. At least, I hope, god knows if Crocodile is and wants to be stealth trans then that's his right and he shouldn't have to out if he doesn't want to, and yeah, I don't want him to be demonized within the narrative for being stealth (if he's stealth, for all we know he could be out)) and like, most importantly, what'd end up being Crocodile's "motivation" for transitioning in the first place

Like. God. I just. I don't want there to be a twist where Crocodile transitioned because "being a woman was weak" or because he "wanted to be acknowledged by Whitebeard" ('cause WB doesn't take women into his crew) or "the scar in his face made him so ugly he decided he should be a man instead" (seen unironic Redditors suggest that. Almost lost my mind) or something

Like I hope someone's at least tried to explain gender dysphoria to Oda. Like the man does have actual queer friends in real life (some of whom inspired characters in OP), so I'm hoping at least someone's tried to explain the feelings that come with The Trans Experience™ to him so that, if Crocodile's trans, then Oda can actually try to base his reasoning to transition on those feelings instead of any stupid "reasons" that no actual queer person would relate to

But it all just boils down to... Is Oda willing to actually dwell into those feelings and explore them in the story.

It... it really could go either way with Oda

So yeah. Anon, I'm with you, I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was at least A Little Worried. But also... I want to be hopeful. Because I do believe there is reason to be hopeful.

Only time will tell how it'll go

#Moon posting #Asks #Sir Crocodile #OP Meta #OP Spoilers #Long post #CW Discussions of transphobia #For the record- cishets using ''crocomom'' for like fandom tagging purposes is fine #But outside of that. P e r i s h #Literally no need to misgender him. #(And obligatory disclaimer: yes if you're trans masc you get a pass on misgendering Crocodile. I'm @'ing the cishets not you) #(Also I'm not dead serious. It's just a pet peeve and god dammit I need to complain about it somewhere djkfghdskfgh) #While I'm at it with the tagging complaints please for the love of god tag your genderbends so people can blacklist and avoid them #Your Cross Guild Yuri is fun and fine but for some people having a trans man get presented as a woman in fanart #For no other reason than “girl pretty” pretty much #Can be just really emotionally draining and painful when the world so explicitly **does not want you to be trans** #Just. It'd be The Nice Thing To Do. You can draw your fem Croc just. Please tag it. For the love of god. #These tags are an absolute mess yeehaw

[scrambledlikeeggs]

Rambling again!

I just had a thought: imagine third life but treebark is like dogwarts worse kept secret, the entire server knows.

Except skizz.

The first member of the red army is watching them do increasingly more romantic things and justifying it as bromance and then slowly putting together the pieces.

The rest of the red army know and are having a laugh watching him figure it out (each server member finds out in there own personalized shenanigan- even desert duo know before skizz)

And eventually skizz just asks the rest of the server about it and they don't know how he doesn't know because they're not subtle, he eventually confronts the two and they make skizz promise to not tell anyone and skizz is just trying not to laugh at both them and the fact he should have figured it out sooner

(And Martyn and Ren have been sneaking around, failing miserably at it. Martyn knows people know but it playing along with it for Ren. Ren also knows people know but hasn't revealed it yet as he enjoys sneaking around)

I might actually have to fully write this.

#scrambled rambles #trafficblr #traffic smp #trafficshipping #treebark #renchanting #I don't post ship stuff often so crossing my fingers this is tagged correctly #Also hope people see my vision #Obligatory characters not cc #The brain rot is leaking out the sides

[reaperlight]

Thinking again of the headcanon that Eddie Brock studied abroad in London for a semester while in college and picked up a bit of British accent...

(And also maybe briefly had a thing with Jack Harkness because of course...)

#An American Symbiote in London #venom #venom 2018 #symbrock #eddie brock #obligatory doctor who crossover #doctor who #torchwood #jack harkness #tom hardy #tom hardy's accent #venom fic prompts #comedy #fic prompt #fanfic prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts #(annoyed I can't find posts on my own blog... anyway) #when eddie & his ex cross paths again... cue jealous symbiote noises & shameless flirting

[bookwyrminspiration]

i did this to myself taking a british literature class in the first place but I am getting so sick of jesus. dude you and ur mom were in the last three in a row you can take a break bud

#shitpost #quil's unholy underworld #(obligatory this is not intended to be antagonistic towards people of this faith or the faith itself clarification) #surely there are other things to write about guys #it does not always have to be about your christ1an faith #<- that's censored purely so this doesn't show up in that tag because this post doesn't belong there #as I was saying #yes that faith was/is important to a lot of people #however. there have to been some other guys too right #guys who were writing about not that #please #its like none of them were considering I would have to read so so much about the cross guy when i took this class several centuries in the #future

[daddys-radioactive-milk]

Call him Aurelius of 22 the way he conquered my ass.

#and then Ceaser kills us both #sorry this crossed my mind and now I HAVE to post it #fnv #fallout #fallout new vegas #inspired by that post that talked about how Aurelius of Phoenix’s name was really cleaver #I need one obligatory gay joke per month #oc: 22

[akkivee]

hype shit at 2am let’s go rhyme anima➕!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#this is vee speaking #plus is so on brand lmao i’m glad it’s plus #obligatory hype post of the atm lol when i say i have never been happier to hear that op than i did in the stream lol #so what on earth is day two’s announcement??????????? hypmic console video game????? idk what’s bigger than new anime season????? #and the fact we’ll get more info during a live is WEIRD like yeah there’s been info drops before but like that was new divisions lol????? #and the mini lives like the cross a line one but obviously that one doesn’t count since it was part talk show lol #hmmmmmmmm 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 #😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴

[soupy-harry]

Rawhide, S03E03: Incident at Dragoon Crossing

#obligatory signal that I am resuming rawhide #rawhide #rawhide gifs #clint eastwood #rowdy #wishbone #my gifs #gifs #tvandfilm #tvgifs #western #season 3 #incident at dragoon crossing #my post

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?

toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.

normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.

but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.

toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.

his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.

toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”

“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.

“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.

“it’s not my fault!”

“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”

you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”

“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”

“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.

“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”

another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”

he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.

“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.

“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.

“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”

“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.

“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”

you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”

his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”

he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.

“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”

you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.

“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.

“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.

“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.

you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”

“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.

“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”

toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”

“yeah but—”

“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”

his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.

“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”

you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.

“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.

“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.

“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.

“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.

but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #zenin toji x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #toji drabbles #jjk headcanons

[semischarmed]

Demonizer

Hope you’re not religious…

———

Parker Mills here sure was. The cross, dutifully hanging on his neck in every other post. The obligatory bible passage quoted on the profile. A “#believer” given every other caption. The works. By all accounts, religion had been good for him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Friendly to all, despite the evangelizing. Virgin too- saving for marriage, of course. His parents on the other hand were vile fucks. The Mills often terrorized our small town’s tiny lgbt community but by some stroke of divine luck, the son of those demons turned out completely normal. Better than normal. Parker was probably the nicest jock in town. Parker also turned me the fuck on. With Parker, I just knew. Just knew that those kind blue eyes and gentle smile adorned that angelic face and ripped body. Knew that with his family’s wealth and that face, he had the makings of the town menace. Knew that despite all this, he was entirely clueless on his appeal and unwilling to share his god-given gifts. Many have tried to corrupt poor Parker, but the man was a saint. He even looked uncomfortable doing anything beyond a quick peck on the lips. I just knew I could make him my own cocky motherfucker.  

There were a handful of options in the dark web. Entirely different avenues ranging from a neurosurgeon offering direct transplant to a ritual for astral projection. It took 1 month just to sift through all the possibilities and options. Each one felt messy or required some form of constant maintenance. They wouldn’t do. I wanted Parker  permanently. All of him-body, mind and soul. At last I had landed on the Demonizer Potion. The effects seemed to vary drastically, though they all seemed to warn of its corruptive properties. In the end, I chose it because it filled the most important niche for these products for me- I could actually afford it. 

Finding a witch to procure this particular potion was… surprisingly easier than expected. In fact, it was downright effortless. Miranda, a witch just a town over, scoffed when I mentioned it to her. “A girl’s gotta pay her bills. Besides, It’s a lot easier and a lot cheaper to hide out here than it is in the big city.”

And that was that. For the “low-low price of $500”, I had the demonizer potion in hand. The drink was pitch-black. Darker than black even. And it seemed to pull all warmth from the room in an otherworldly, sinking feeling. I had no doubt this thing was the real deal. I read the instructions: “Drink with your intent.“ I imagined mine.

- - -

I knew the perfect time to strike. It felt oddly fitting to take him during a service. In the church’s bathroom, I took a quick swig of my future. Just a third of the black substance. I gagged as I felt it stream down my throat. And I winced, expecting a burning sensation. No-not a burning sensation. It was more like a pit of nothingness spreading throughout my body to my fingertips. The burning came after. All at once, the world around me spun as I felt my body leave physical manifestation. I watched as my spectral hands flashed white then black in a pulsating pattern, before finally settling on a grey.

Parker Mills sat, listening attentively. They seemed to be playing some religious music. My only religion sat right in front of me. In devilish glee I began to stream into him. Inch by Inch, I flooded into his thick dick. He made a small grunt at first insertion.

Parker shifted in his seat as the worship choir continued singing. His face grew red as he tried to hide a growing boner. The worship singing droned and I felt a sharp pain in my head. As if empowered, Parker’s own soul began to push me out. 

In the end, I only managed to slip a bit of the grey essence into him. It did not seem to have much effect, aside from giving him an inexplicable need to grab the flask from the bathroom floor. I tried to make a mental note of that.

I sighed, defeated, as I fled into the night. In the darkness, I recuperated as I planned my next visit.

- - -

This time, there would be no fanfare. No choir to welcome our joining and my rebirth. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay in this world without his warm flesh tethering me mortal, so I knew I had to get in him fast. 

I followed the man to his apartment, sitting patiently in a dark corner of his bedroom as he went about his day.

When he was close to sleeping, he turned off the light and sat on his bed in a meditative tone. I watched in anticipation as he closed his eyes and began to pray. “Lord, ple-“

“Mmhhmph!” I struck the man a snake, prying his full lips open and forcing his body to gorge itself with me. 

This time, no music. Just the sounds of a teary-eyed Parker choking on invisible mass. Drool ran down his cheeks as I inched more and more of my form inside. His neck bulged and eyes grew wide and bloodshot as he tried badly to reject the intrusion. Lubricated by Parker’s own saliva, by the taste of Parker, I greedily dug into his insides. 

Parker’s body began to move involuntarily. Deep in violation, it tried in vain to get me out. He smashed his head over and over again across the apartment wall trying to shake me out. I only forced myself inside harder. His head shook as it contorted in odd angles. Biceps started scratching at his own throat, trying to get me out to no avail. Eventually, they were forced splayed open as Parker’s body began to travel up the apartment wall. At first, his legs began to kick, then shake, then they begun to dangle ominously off the ground. In a perverted facsimile of his religion, I strung Parker up his own apartment wall, arms outstretched in a blasphemous pose as if to welcome me. “All are welcome..no, I am welcome,” I thought to myself. I continued my assault.

As Parker screamed, I weaved through each crevice until I could find the core of his soul. It looked pure and white, aside from the small speck of gray in my earlier intrusion. Gingerly, I pried the soul’s own mouth open as I laughed. I wanted Parker to his depths. Parker to his very core. And so I burrowed and coiled. Shackled myself to it. Shackled him to me. Like a trap jaw, his soul’s mouth closed. Forever sealing me in nice and tight as I continued squirm and fill into Parker. His spirit was mine. It bent in odd and unnatural angles, contorting until it tore. Outside, I felt Parker’s thrashing head slow into a twitching. 

I wanted-no needed every part of Parker to myself. So I begun to fill into the tears of his ravaged soul. I then felt the the fibers of those tears heal- with me embedded. Euphoric. Stillness.

Parker’s pale blue eyes shot wide open, dilated. “P-Please,” he whimpered, before they go glassy and a smile began to form on his lips. Parker’s flesh collapsed into a pile on the floor, body, mind, and soul spent. 

- - -

My first breath as Parker felt out of this world. Parker’s body was his temple after all. When I felt his lungs fill for me, and air flow into us for the first time, I felt the power in his drawn breath- Like having an athlete’s lungs chained to my whims. I felt our drawn air circulate inside me, tickling bits of me in drunken pleasure. Granted, I was not that unhealthy in my previous flesh, but this new home was unreal. Merely existing in his flesh felt like an unburdening. Energy brimmed from fingertip to fingertip and my mind raced with a clarity I did not know possible. 

“I can’t believe you just feel like all the time” I teased as I twirled my new perfect hairs. I couldn’t help but giggle in my new perfect voice. Hearing it vibrate into a low moan was music to my ears, as the man’s hand travelled and cupped his own perky ass. “Fuck,” I panted breathlessly as I massaged my new right asscheek. The Jock’s face twitches in vain retaliation. “Fuck you feel so good…” I twisted his nipple. “Thank you for saving yourself for me.” Hearing and feeling this Parker, a Parker the world has never seen- A Parker he himself had never seen, drove me mad with lust. This was a private Parker, my Parker, one bound to me for my personal enjoyment. A moment exclusive to us. This seemed to light a fire in the original Parker and I felt my soul shiver as his encapsulated mine. “g…g-get the fuck out of me!” He spat.

With newfound agency, the original Parker ran to his desk and managed just one action before I could wrestle back control.

I gulped. My shaking hand dropped the empty flask as I felt his intent hung around me like a death sentence. “Cast this demon out of me”.

Control over my perfect meat-suit went dark. Like a barrier emanating from within, I felt myself squeezed out of my home. Then falling. Falling for an unbelievable amount of time. I blacked out.

- - -

I awoke with the smell of sulfur in the air, the sky was dark and glowed a faint orange. I stood as I surveyed my surroundings, horrified. I saw a sea of bodies writhing and groaning. 

“Is this..?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish that sentence. I closed my eyes as I thought of the potion and the life I gave all to come to this. I didn’t even have a chance to play with my new body. A sensation stopped my racing mind abruptly.

It was a hand. 

One of the bodies on the floor moaned as it spoke in velvet. “Are you joining or what?” I shook it off me as the realization slowly dawned on me. It wasn’t groaning… it was moaning. They were not damned. At least, they were certainly not upset about it. 

Then I felt something else stir inside me. Hope? No- At least, not my hope. I grinned as I realized what had occurred. I took note of my spirit- a spirit that was a part of Parker’s. Partially superimposed. Partially one. We were bonded together, even as souls. When his sleeping soul came to, I felt that hope of his immediately vanish. He grabbed our merged face in horror, before looking around. 

“B-but, I never did anything… I was perfect…” Parker trailed. I felt a blackness pour out of me. That’s it? Is that all there was to being a demon? These people were not suffering in the slightest. If anything, this was something to look forward to. This time, I felt no resistance from Parker as our shared soul began to fondle itself. Our face, however, was stone cold. Parker was in control.

Feeling all that he had to look forward to, something shattered in him. I felt as much- Rage. Betrayal. Then, Liberation. He looked up into the sky with a sneer and hands outstretched. “This what you wanted, asshole? I do everything right and you still put me here? How much time did I waste in those stupid lectures? How many people did we turn down?” I immediately felt the pieces of this new Parker worm into my psyche. “Fine”. He said with a broken satisfaction.

Like a root, he spread throughout me. Bonding each of us tighter and tighter. This time, I felt a natural cockiness exude from Parker, and by extension me. It felt wrong, coming from Parker. At the same time, a part of me felt like this truly was Parker. This time, the disillusioned man continued fondling himself on his own volition. He brought me into the fold, guiding my movements. “Bro…” . I felt mind mind dull in euphoria. “Bro….”. It rolled off our tongue lazily. Something about it just felt natural. “Parker, if you don’t stop… we’ll”. His mouth opened in a wide smile as he gave both pecs a squeeze. “I know. Enjoy the ride bro”. All at once the pieces of Parker rooted into brimmed with energy. “Fuck it, right? You should be thanking me for this… My body is my temple… and I’m letting you live in it. Thanking me is the least you could do.” Searing pain hit us both. Despite all this, he retained a crazed expression as he kept defiling his own soul. Bit after bit, I felt him kneed soul into mine. Though terrified, I couldn’t help but soften. This was truly a side of Parker I had never seen. Here he was, tainting himself- tainting us both- locking us to eternal damnation. Into one being. And he laughed while doing it. I could feel it in his depths. A raw aggression. A depraved, sexual hunger in him. One that swallowed me infinitesimally. One that strung me up inside him, fed me pieces of himself. Fed me too much of himself. Fed me to him. My head was spinning as the lines between us blurred even further. This new Parker coursed through me as he guided me to finish the job. Let’s sin in this temple together. The last, innocent piece of the original Parker spurted out of our soul in a torrent of spectral cum. We could see the weightlessness of it. We watched as it floated up to the dark sky. This remnant of the original Parker-the original me, would be mine. I drew the land into me, felt empowered by the flames as I jetted up. In unbelievable pace we ascended back to the living world. 

- - -

Final bits of soul continued to ascend but with a swift, dark grip, we grabbed it and jammed it into our body’s chest. I watched my meat shudder at the feeling. It breathed into life, but remained unconscious. Our soul now brimming black, I caressed my perfected form in satisfaction. We were Parker. And we needed every bit of ourselves to be whole. On that note, I jammed our dick right into the Parker Meat body’s chest and watched as it shuddered. Caressing the face now wholly mine, I jammed our dick in again and again, reveling in the body’s shaking. I watched it claw into the floor, legs kicking and flaying in some automatic attempt to keep its own soul out. I only continued with faster and faster pace, grunting in his manly tone until finally-release. The invisible barrier around flesh punctured and I willed my spirit to pump bit after bit of myself into the small orifice. The Parker body only made gurgling noises as I streamed inside. Once all of me was finally home, I felt my flesh begin to enclose me and laughed as I felt the barrier reforge- only with me inside it this time. I made quick work of the last piece of the original Parker’s soul. Staining it black and integrating it into myself.

Tears now flowed freely down Parker’s flush cheeks. His hands caressed his thick biceps in gratification. We were finally complete.  

I moaned as I felt myself overcome a familiar sensation that my old body often experienced. However, this sensation was entirely foreign to this Parker-flavored bod. Electricity coursed inside me, and moans turned into screams as shook back and forth in a downright religious experience. My back arched in violent delight and I felt the lights go out from my new pale, blue eyes. Parker’s first cum- our first cum together- absolute pleasure. My jaw slacked and drool began to escape as I was still reeling from the sensation.

Mess. I sat there panting for a second, chest and stomach soaked and coated in our liberation. I scooped a bit of the white and stared at it in my hand, watching this body’s own seed violently shudder and contort unnaturally before phasing into a dark mist. In demented glee, I felt the mist like an extension of myself and began feeding it into the rest of the untouched cum still outlining my abs. I licked my lips in savage pleasure as I watched as the rest of it slowly turn dark and soon felt it also under my control. Exquisite. I sent the small package of myself into the air, flying towards one of my teammates. Just a small piece to convince him to submit himself to Parker’s temple.

I couldn’t wait to show the town our new self. We are Parker. And all are welcome to worship at this temple. “Let us pray”.

- - -

Now, have you accepted Parker as your personal lord and savior?

#male possession #male body control #male merge #male takeover #malepossession #soul possession #male corruption

[l0vem41l]

star stickers and best efforts.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop

author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs

if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.

maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.

the customers are another story.

sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.

“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”

while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.

“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.

at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.

his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.

you shake your head.

“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.

much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”

you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.

“my job.” 

“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.

“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”

you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.

sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.

go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.

“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”

“language.” he chides.

“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.

“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”

the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.

“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.

“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”

“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.

you groan and manage to shove his arm away.

“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.

“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”

with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.

and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.

“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.

“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.

“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”

sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”

something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.

you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.

meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?

— reblogs always appreciated!

#fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf dca #sundrop #fnaf x reader #sundrop x reader #fnaf sundrop #dca x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sb headcanons #sun x reader #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf security breach headcanons #dca x self insert #how do i tag again #help wanted 2 #kind of #not really

[genderkoolaid]

Tumblr.com/kikurihiroienjoyer/729469124420517889

Yknow i almost at least partially agreed w this post for a second (mainly in the context of certain cultures having different views on gender/sexuality than we do now) but then you randomly insult trans men in the tags and the reblog is nowhere better- I’m sorry but we kinda HAVE to infer certain figures are transmasc because trans men are consistently erased from records, even ones that explicitly said they were men get rewritten as “women escaping patriarchy by disguising as a man”

[obligatory Don't Harass People notice]

love how the post itself is so general and normal and then the tags just go full mask off "i'm mad that transmascs are talking about things >:(((" and then the rb tags which are just unchanged TERF rhetoric

the funny thing is if you actually acknowledge that modern labels and gender constructions can't be applied to historical figures then we have MORE potential figures in transmasc history. its when people cling to the idea of "they could be a lesbian OR a trans man, we can't say (so we'll assume she was cis)." for any kind of collective trans history to be narrated, we have to acknowledge that there are people who could not identify with our terms even if they wanted to, and that what makes them part of trans* history is not whether or not our labels can be applied to them, but the experiences shared between modern trans* people and people of queer/varied genders throughout history. Like when we talk about George Sand being part of transmasculine history, thats not because they were For Sure A Trans Guy, but because as cross-dressing woman they share trans*- (in the expansive "gender variant" sense) -masculine experiences.

L + ratio + "there's enough actual transmascs do that with" people hate us for calling them transmascs too + transmasculine history can also be feminist history if you understand transfeminism + why are you only complaining about transmascs here? do no transfems ever simplify historical figures and use modern terminology to describe their genders? + booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

#m. #ask box #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity #transunity

[templetogavage]

Weekly Weighing (03/31/2024 to 04/06/2024)

Here are (more than) seven posts from gaining and encouraging Tumblr I enjoyed this week.

1. https://www.tumblr.com/vinnyeats/746507054171226112/gotta-love-krispy-kremes

Starting off with @vinnyeats in a classic fat boy pose, looking like a hog with an apple in his mouth.

2. https://www.tumblr.com/suitedbeef/746512630474309632/easter-pig

With Easter passed, it only seemed right to honor @suitedbeef and his themed outfit. Pleasingly snug, as always.

3. https://www.tumblr.com/sumbellies/746645036774604800

This week's first obligatory before and after picture. Congrats to @chubbxo for the 80 pound gain! And thanks to @sumbellies for getting this on my dash.

4. https://www.tumblr.com/gainingbellyboy3/746807659353817088

@bellychaser57 collected some excellent pictures of ratthew413, a chubby singer who I'd recommend following. Click through for more.

5. https://www.tumblr.com/glennk56/746685719971610624/cliff-emmich-in-the-1980s

@glennk56 posts quite a few delightful collections of chubby actors, but when this one crossed my dashboard, I knew I needed to include it. There's a variety of different looks here, for the handsome Cliff Emmich. Check out this blog if you're looking for other posts like this, too, they're a regular feature.

6. https://www.tumblr.com/quiet-admirer/746768984476647424/i-love-this-its-simple-elegant-inclusive

@yourfattestcow responds to @quiet-admirer's call for a BDSM-esque umbrella acronym for fat fetish, gaining & encouraging/weight gain kink, and feedism. I'm fond enough of it that I thought I'd share it- although I do think EFAB and FABE are also worth considering.

7. https://www.tumblr.com/joshcroissant/746814285781614592/ready-for-a-meeting-with-me

This post by @joshcroissant was actually one of the ones that convinced me to go for more than my minimum seven posts. When I saw this, I knew that I would have to include it. What's better than the slightest hint of belly peeking through, the slightest clinging of the shirt fabric to the fat underneath, the slightest rounding of the jawline, hidden by beard...sometimes fat men are just hot, and that's how it is.

8. https://www.tumblr.com/littleandlard/746826870079832064/come-cuddle

Love a pose like this- sometimes it's not about looking as hot as possible. If you're a good-looking guy, like @littleandlard, a bit of charm and sense of humor turns an ordinary, mundane image into something greater. This expression is just perfect.

9. https://www.tumblr.com/ryanporker/746851749427593216/my-patrons-know-to-ask-for-what-they-like-anyone

@ryanporker is out here producing some of the best roleplay/fantasy content in this space, apparently. I've been sleeping on his content. Highly recommend checking out this preview if you're looking for new content and want a solid pitch.

10. https://www.tumblr.com/zangtang/746917658799259648

There are always a few videos I find, and I have to be judicious about which to include- in a big text post like this, you only get one. So I convert one to a GIF whenever I can, and where I think it preserves the appeal. This short and sweet post by @gluttonbeefy is just good fun. Watching a belly flop and jiggle is a core part of what most of enjoy here, I think. Thanks to @zangtang for providing me with this and the next post.

11. https://www.tumblr.com/zangtang/746920967349125120

Belly on a countertop. It's just great to see the way bellies are shaped, to watch them move- even in a still image, seeing the way it hangs...@bearbellied knows exactly how to show off his belly at its best.

12. https://www.tumblr.com/mattyhalled1/746940178372968448/you-did-this-to-me-i-blame-yall

The second and final of this week's obligatory comparison pictures! @ilikeeverythicc has a great shape for this particular angle, I think- it really highlights every inch of fat there. And the contrast on display- there's a reason I try to include one of these types of photos every week.

13. https://www.tumblr.com/feeder86/746901149259546624/tommys-two-hundred

Finally, a snippet of a @feeder86 story. I quite enjoyed the overall trajectory of this one, and highly recommend giving it a read if you're looking for more gainer stories that focus on someone discovering a desire to gain with a partner.

And that's this week's Weekly Weighing!

#rotund roundup #weekly weighing

[drconstellation]

Dr Constellation's Good Omens Master Post of Metas

(Updated 04 May 2024)

See my Google Doc for a full list of Tumblr posts of interest.

Future Echos of the Past

The story of the Great War in Heaven as it appears in the present

#1: The Great War of Tadfield Manor #2: The Newton/Crowley Mirror/Parallel in S1 #3: "Not Even At Gunpoint"

Archangel Gabriel

Supreme Archangel Gabriel often stands on the demonic left-hand side in scene blocking, rather than the angelic right. He’s also fond of taking center stage! Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day First-Order Archangels Part 1: Maybe You'll See An Archangel

Gabriel and Crowley act as both parallels and foils to each other in S2. In Part 1 we look at some of the ways they are alike.

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

Part 2 takes a look at where Gabriel and Crowley oppose one another, as well as highlighting some parallels between their respective partners, Beelzebub and Aziraphale.

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye To Eye

Gabriel and Crowley both have an interesting connection to time.

The Assistant Book Seller

Jim’s knitted vest holds a wealth of symbolic information - and a surprise nod that you didn’t expect.

Giles the Herald

An interesting parallel to Gabriel at the end of S1.

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey

Part 1: Detective Aziraphale

One of the reasons Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh is because it is a narrative parallel to Crowley’s trip to Heaven. There are also a couple of other things we need to consider, too.

Part 2: Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels

While Gabriel is Crowley’s mirror in S2, Beelzebub is Aziraphale’s. And there is a third character that makes an interesting mirror-triangle analysis that combines and reflects both major characters together as well.

Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement

Aziraphale does a lot of reflection about the past while he’s on his trip to Edinburgh. How can this help him in the future?

Part 4: Judgement Day

Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh - and most of S2 - is filled with hints and references to the Second Coming. Gabriel's statue is one of them, but it has another role as well (and it's not for hiding anything under, sorry.)

Part 5: I Know Where I'm Going - coming soon

Archangel Rings

All the Archangels have golden rings, as well as Aziraphale. Find out what they reveal about each character.

The Golden Lions of Heaven (includes Aziraphale's Lion ring) Michael the Watchful Uriel's Star Ring The Brutal Truth about Sandalphon's Ring

A Companion to Owls minisode

Goats, Crows and The Flood

Crawley turns Job's goats into crows to save them. Why crows? And how does this link to the Flood?

Angelic Sheep and Demonic (Scape)Goats

Understanding the link between goats and demons gives you a deeper insight into Crowley's story - and also some of Aziraphale's.

Come Back When You Can Make A Whale

Take a deep dive into the Book of Job - and find out what it might be foreshadowing for S3

Aye, a Newt

Why Job’s children are turned into geckos, and a S1 connection.

Crossing the Threshold

Inside the Dirty Donkey

We’re going to the pub! What secrets does the Dirty Donkey hide behind its name?

Lifting the Veil on the Bentley

Peering behind the meaning of the Bentley’s number plate.

Memento mori

This is one of the major themes of the series - Remember that you die.

Obligatory Reminders and Crossing the Lines

Have you been wondering why Shax tries to do a mail delivery to Crowley as he escorts the shop keepers to safety from Aziraphale's Eldritch Ball? It seems a pretty random thing to do at that moment.

Stand-Alone Metas

The Ineffable Ducks

What are all those ducks doing? Ever got the feeling that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you…?

The Altar of Eccles Cakes

The Eccles cakes don’t look like they are doing much, but they are there for a reason - so is some of the other food you see.

The Cupperty Ceremony

Every bit of food and drink in both seasons has a metaphorical significance. Tea is no exception. It’s one of the few times an eastern philosophy creeps into Good Omens, but still meets with a western ideal.

When Crowley Met Jesus, and The Other Demon at Golgotha

Aziraphale suggests not one but two demon names to Crowley when they meet at Golgotha. Together they make a clever joke about the Third Temptation that most people miss.

Being Kind to One Another

Some clever and subtle word play on kind, linked between two scenes in the S1E3 Hard Times cold opening.

Once and Future Royalty

There’s a King Arthur and Camelot sub-theme running through parts of S1 And S2. Grab your coconuts and saddle up for a crazy ride through time and space!

Portable People

Crowley's yeeting them around while stress-cleaning the bookshop, Jimbriel is trying to sell them to the investigating archangels, and Muriel just wants to read them all. Should we give a second thought to any of these books?.

Bebop and the Book

Why can Anathema always put her hand on the right card at the right time?

Chiastic Structure of S1

Chiastic structure is a literary device where the story line is mirrored in reverse around a central point. S1 has an amazingly detailed chiastic structure, which actually reveals and confirms some meta speculations!

Chiastic Structure of S2

S1 was a fantastic example of a mirrored story line. S2 …isn’t. But there are still a substantial number of chiastic pairs to be found.

Liberty versus the Tree of Life

A philosophical look at the choices between coffee, freewill and death compared to access to the Trees of Knowledge and Life in the Garden of Eden.

Taking Things At Face Value

How our internalized values influence the way we judge people, often based on their outward appearance alone.

The Rules of Engagement

The Technicalities of Licenses, Permits and the Limits of Authority in Good Omens

If you are looking for more metas there is a group effort on this google doc here: Good Omens Crackpotting Theory Tracker This brings a lot of ops together in the one place.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis

[hey-august]

A Line from Me to You - Chapter 4

Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this? (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, check out the story tag)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: This chapter is SFW, but that changes next chapter!! Buggy x afab!reader.

A/N: Defnitely messed up posting this the first time around. 🤡Posting from my phone, so let me know if it looks weird!

Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Maybe you should pick the next book.”

Buggy would have considered writing those words as admitting defeat if it wasn’t for how shaky your last note was. He could see each jump and jolt your hand made while asking for something less intense than the books Buggy picked.

After you both filled the end pages of “Rocks on the River” with enough saltwater to rival the ocean, Buggy offered another story from his backlog. The third novel you read together was a horrifying tale that pushed the readers into a toxic miasma of fear, paranoia, and unease, which oozed into their real lives.

The whole ship rang with a piercing shriek from the captain when an unfortunate freak tapped his shoulder from behind. A usually common occurrence was tainted by an early scene from the book. Buggy knew the touch wasn’t from grotesquely plump spiders descending from the ceiling, even though he screamed something that sounded like, “Get it the fuck off of me.” 

After reading a chapter full of creepy-crawlies, every small sensation left his blue hair standing on end, which only created a nerve wracking loop. Every breeze and rustle of fabric teased his prickled skin, mimicking the feel of grubby little arachnid and insectoid legs scurrying across his body. The sensation only went away after a frantic midday wash with near-boiling water and the roughest washcloth Buggy could find. After sloughing off more than one layer of skin, the pirate felt confident that he was clean and not infested.

You, on the other hand, had boasted about not being scared of the terrors held within the book. Unlike the invasive imaginary critters Buggy was battling, you were as snug as a bug in a rug when you curled up in bed to read each night. The chilling entities weren’t real, and if they were, you felt safe on the ship.

“I’m just saying, if soul-sucking bats were attacking, I would trust C. Buggy to protect m us.” 

As much as you tried to turn the start of “me” into “us,” the letters didn’t flow right. Rather than drawing attention to the slip-up by completely blacking out the convex letter, you simply crossed it out and hoped the other reader wouldn’t notice.

“I dunno, what if he hid from those horrid fucking things? I wouldn’t blame him, honestly…”

“Maybe…but I trust him.”

“He’s the captain, you’re supposed to trust him.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

You didn’t realize what you wrote until you punctuated the sentence by stabbing the page. Your hand moved quickly and defensively, upset by the assumption that your feelings were obligatory. Your fingers twitched as you restrained the flow of words. Your trust wasn’t unearned, it had grown over time. The seed was planted when you were welcomed to the ship with open arms and watered by his laughter and jokes, the care he held for his eclectic freaks, the little questions he’d ask about their lives at sea, and the flashy stories he pushed them weave. The roots reached deep, following the curve of his smile and tracing the crinkles in the corner of his eyes. 

The trust might have been obligatory at the beginning, but it had since blossomed into more. You weren’t ready to acknowledge the blooms and definitely weren’t going to share the unnamed feelings with a stranger.

Thankfully, Buggy’s preference for avoiding uncomfortable discussions kept him from prying further. His nightly alcohol whispered in a heated voice. It said he should ask, that he deserves to know why you trusted him so much. The voice grew quieter the longer he let the amber liquid sit untouched. Sure, a part of him was interested, but you didn’t elaborate for a reason. Thinking back to “Rocks on the River,” you never pressured him to write more about his childhood friend. Curiosity peeked through some of your notes, but it never confronted him. And he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you, so he moved onto the next section of the story.

This time, you completed the book first. Usually, you refrained from reading while on duty, but finishing the horror novel under a full moon in the crow’s nest seemed like a fitting end. Settled under an inky expanse that spilled into the still sea, you read words illuminated by moonlight. It didn’t take long for the whispers of subtle waves to take on an ominous tone. The rattling of the gently swaying ship became inhuman guttural groans. 

Creaks from other crew members on duty became less frequent and far less comforting. Their footsteps and shadows were no longer welcoming - they were unsettling and teased your fraying hold on reality. Seated so high above the others, you had no way of knowing if the life on deck were familiar or fiendish freaks. Laughter carried on the wind wasn’t jovial, but sinister. You tried to close the book, to stop the words from pulling you deeper into their dark world, but it didn’t work. You were already lost in fear and needed to claw your way out.

---

Buggy figured you would spend the night reading and woke up early to see if the book would be ready for him. He slipped the third annotated book into an interior coat pocket and headed to breakfast. Only a few pirates filled the hall - a mix of those eating their first meal of the day and those filling their stomachs before sleep. Despite the differences, everyone embraced the quiet morning and only the sounds in the room came from cutlery against plates, mugs on the wooden tables, and open-mouthed chewing. It would be a normal scene, except for you. Unlike the others, who were stuck in the cozy twilight at either end of sleep, you sat wide-eyed and jittery in front of a sparse meal. The captain approached the corner you cowered in like a scared animal.

“You alright? Something happen last night?” His voice was pulled low with concern.

Your eyes darted around the room, afraid of missing some unknown monster during this conversation. “I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long night.” You shivered slightly, fear and anxiety still running their courses through your body.

“Hey,” Buggy whispered softly as he crouched low, his leather boots creaking with the movement. “You sure that’s all?” His hand rested on the bench next to you. He wanted to reach out and keep you from shaking, but a different fear kept him from moving.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, looking everywhere but at the man in front of you. 

A moment of silence let you know the answer wasn’t accepted. You glanced at him a few times before getting stuck in the deep pools within his eyes. It always happened to you so easily - his pupils were large and dark enough for you to fall in those ocean-colored eyes without a second thought. Buggy raised his eyebrows, the movement also tugging the tip of his round nose, and tilted his head to the side. He could see through the flimsy facade you were hiding behind, so you let it go and took a deep breath. 

“It was a really long night, Captain. I think I’ll feel better after sleeping. I’m okay, really.” You emphasized the last word by nudging his gloved hand with yours. Just the smallest amount of touch to let him know you were being honest.

Buggy nodded and left without another word. Any details you were reluctant to share were housed in the book sitting in his pocket. 

---

The rest of the story that was written in the novel and documented your night  was devoured in his quarters, while the plate of breakfast sitting a hands-reach away on the desk grew cold. It was a different experience to read a horror book during the day, when the bright sunlight eliminated any errant shadows and kept the unknowns that resided in the dark at bay. Still, the author was skilled enough for goosebumps to cover the pirate’s body. He ran his hands along his arms and legs to iron away the physical response. 

As Buggy soothed his own unsettled nerves, he thought about you. How scared you must have been, alone and in the dark. How the fear followed you through the morning and you couldn’t shake the feeling. Literally. For a brief moment, Buggy imagined holding your trembling body, just as he was holding his own. Would you trust your captain enough to let him protect you from a fear response?

Although the pirate couldn’t bring himself to comfort you physically, he had an idea that could work. Filling with bubbling excitement, he sprang out of the desk chair, nearly toppling it in the process, and sprinted out of the room. A moment later, a lone hand whizzed back to toss his reading glasses on the bed and close the door.

---

You woke up as the sun was turning in for the evening, surprised that you managed to fall asleep. Thinking back, you might have actually passed out from exhaustion and worry. The orange glow now painting the walls in your room was comforting. You stretched your limbs to bring them back to life and put your arms behind your head. 

Staring at nothing in particular gave your mind permission to pursue its own entertainment, so it drifted back to the paranoia and apprehension you thought had left. Threads of their presence remained and tugging at them brought pieces of the story. Examining those moments was easier in the golden light, but as the warmth receded and night returned, so did the unease. Rather than staying inside and alone, you hoped to find companionship and protection with the late night crewmates.

Waiting just outside your room was the smell of fried food and smoked meat to keep you company. As you wandered the belly of the ship, you passed your mates filling their own bellies with greasy food and alcohol. The ebb and flow of movement seemed to be going to and coming from the deck. Following the alluring scents of popcorn, cotton candy, and sweet dough, you stepped into the open air. 

String lights adorned the ship, traipsing from mast to mast, illuminating the sails, and snaking around the deck railing. Hundreds of lights bounced on the rippled sea, creating a bubble of light that was periodically outdone by the handmade fireworks launched into the sky. As sparks rained down in a beautiful rendition of a meteor shower, you caught the silhouette of the captain standing at the helm of the ship. If anyone knew what ignited tonight's floating festival, it would be the man in charge.

You weaved your way across the deck, grabbing two bottles of beer on the way. Having learned from earlier events and rumors among the crew, you stomped your feet a little louder than usual to let Buggy know you were approaching, so he wouldn’t be caught off guard and attempt to swat you away in surprise. When he turned to see who the visitor was, you offered him a drink.

“Are we celebrating something special?”

“There doesn’t have to be a reason to have a party,” Buggy said, as though you should know better. “Besides, my crew always deserves a night like this!” He spread his arms and gestured all around him.

Despite the bright lights, enough of the night hung around to hide the blush on your cheeks. Eager to hide the heat behind alcohol, you held out your bottle. “Then here’s to us!” 

Buggy tapped his bottle against yours harder than he expected, causing a fountain of bubbles to overflow from both containers. You both leaned in to stop the spills before taking a proper drink. 

Little did you know, this was his first drink of the evening. Buggy, who was known to spend nights with his sloshing spirit in hand, had planned when and how much alcohol would be available. He considered how to drag out the crowds and stagger the inevitable crash as people blacked out and passed out. The pirate captain wasn’t sure how successful he’d be against soul-sucking bats, but every detail that would chase away another dark and lonely night was taken into account.

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