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drconstellation · 6 months

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The Ineffable Ducks

What's with all the ducks in Good Omens that Crowley seems to be inordinately fond of? Turns out, they do have a narrative purpose, they're not just in there as a running joke about Crowley's fondness for the animals of Earth.

They appear in both S1 and S2, and get mentioned in several seemingly random places. Like, really random. There are quite a few in St James Park, where the ducks live, where the international spies also clandestinely meet, where Aziraphale and Crowley meet on several occasions, and where Crowley and Shax have a meeting, exchanging information in S2E1.

Ducks also get referred to here, when Aziraphale suggests they use humans to search and spy out the missing Antichrist, but Crowley insists it will be near impossible because suspicion slides off the boy like water off, what ever water slides off, because he has an automatic defense system.

The he remembers the ducks(!) later in the Bentley when they discuss using their respective networks of highly trained human operatives (Shadwell and the Witchfinder army), and Aziraphale asks if Crowley has a better idea than his. "Ducks!" Crowley suddenly utters.

The ducks that are always there, that you see but don't see, gathering bread crumbs, when any kind of surveillance or secret spy work is being discussed.

Nah, I thought, it couldn't be a sly ref to this famous cartoon by Larson, could it?

Aziraphale and Crowley are always afraid that someone is watching, or listening to everything they do, from both sides. I mean isn't that partly why we got the ending we did in S2, because they have had to be so covert with their communication to each over the centuries they've forgotten how to speak plainly to each other?

Heaven has definitely been watching...

And Hell certainly noticed Crowley's act of kindness in the Edinburgh cemetery, swiftly summoning him to Hell for punishment after his kind deed on behalf of Elspeth.

Then when the duo meet in again 1867 Crowley wonders if "ducks have ears" before declaring they must do - that's how they hear other ducks. So its no surprise that when Crowley asks Aziraphale for holy water that he writes the request on a piece of paper to hide it from those invisible ever-present watchers they know are never far away.

When we come to the start of S2, where Crowley is slouched in St James Park once more, reading the Tadfield Advertiser, and yelling at the Azerbaijani secret agents for feeding the ducks bread. Crumbs, it was alright to do this in the book, and S1, why is wrong now? Has Crowley suddenly become woke and caring for the ducks? Nah.

There's a lot more to it than that. I realized this is the missing Grain offering from my post about altar offerings (see The Altar of Eccles Cakes) in S2. A Grain offering represents a voluntary expression of devotion to God - or the other side you're supposed to be aligned with, in this case.

Shax is part of this scene, discussing the latest news from below, and she mentions some special intel that Hell has received, from their own secret squirrel network. Of course they would meet in St James Park to discuss this, along with all the other spies. While Shax tries to get some intel out of Crowley about what might be going on in Heaven, because she knows he has contact with a certain angel who owns a book shop, Crowley responds by refusing to show any devotion to his former side at this point, and isn't going to give any information away that could be useful. He also doesn't have any intel at this point, anyway, but he's not going to give that away either! Heaven and Hell are toxic, and no one should be going anywhere near them, in his opinion. So stop feeding them that devotional bread!

After Shax asks what they should be feeding the ducks, he eventually says "Frozen Peas. It's good for them, they like it."

The short period of "peas" since they stopped the impending Apocalypse has been enjoyable, and good for Crowley and Aziraphale, but the forced meeting with Beelzebub later that day soon jolts Crowley out of any complacency when they indicate that the "generalized understanding" Crowley thought they had with Heaven and Hell after the body swap to leave them alone, the one Aziraphale-as-Crowley negotiated, while asking for a rubber duck, no less, was looking very shaky and fragile indeed.

And one more random duck ref to discuss.

I was inspired to write this section by lalalunamoth's post calling Muriel a duckling imprinted on Crowley, and of course I did not save it, did I, and a search does not bring it back up again (found it!), so if you're reading this, or know that post, please let me know! I read it, and thought, cute, but nah, then realized that Muriel was sent on a surveillance mission to Whickber St to ascertain the truth of Aziraphale's 25 lazurii miracle. And she did act as the eyes of Heaven, writing up some reports, called Crowley "grice," then followed him around during his escapade in Heaven just like a duckling following a grumpy gander drake while he did his own surveillance measures in a Tactical Turtle neck, channeling his best imitation Sean Connery voice (have you noticed that as well, people?)

No, no, the op wasn't wrong - those big cross ducks, er grice geese, they make good guard dogs, no?

With special mention to Crowley acting as a surveillance duck just prior to this, and Mr Brown doing his own "spying out" of Aziraphale.

To finish this meta, there is one other figure who notably offered the ducks bread, in the book. This passage, which is surely relevant to S3, but didn't appear in S1, shows another character still devoted to God in a way. Lets give Death the final word:

Crowley: "Maybe it's it's all part of a great ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire. And don't bother to answer. if we could understand, we wouldn't be us. Because it's all - all - "

INEFFABLE, said the figure feeding the ducks.

"Yeah. Right. Thanks."

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dilf-din · 3 months

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Forever Winter (If You Go)

Carmy Berzatto x reader

WC: 1200

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, panic attacks, allusions to suicide, light language

A/N: I feel like I don’t see many things addressing Carmy’s grief, so here a little blurby blurb of reader helping him through a panic attack. This man need a hug.

The intimate sounds of dinner rush roared in your ears. The soft blush of candlelight pressed a kiss to every profile and warm smile seated in pairs around you. A hundred pleasant smells swirled around the room, echoing off the walls and teasing of delicious bites to come. Silverware sharp against plates and lovers sharing hushed laughter were drowning out your thoughts as you stared at the white table cloth and empty seat in front of you, anxiously checking the time every twenty seconds.

Carmy was late a lot, but he was never this late. Never on your anniversary.

Every text sat unanswered, every call going to voicemail.

The waitress stopped by to refill your water one more time, giving you a sympathetic look. The basket of bread had been reduced to crumbs, and you could probably recite the menu from memory at this point. You knew you couldn’t sit there forever keeping another well paying pair from a warm meal.

“I’m so sorry. Here, keep all of it,” you apologized gathering your coat and bag and dropping a few twenties on the table to compensate for her time.

You quickly dodged waiters and trays of decadent looking food on your way back to the door. Another call straight to voicemail. You tried to ignore the worry that hung heavy around your neck. The Bear was only a few blocks away, so you opted to walk, knowing you could make it more quickly than flagging down a cab in Friday night traffic.

Teases of flurries danced down in the rough wind dotting your lashes and the wool of your coat. Underfoot, slush crunched with every step of your boots. The roads were sure to be icy in the morning.

Inside your head you kept repeating the same prayer.

“Please be okay, Carm. Please be okay.”

The seconds you stood waiting at each crosswalk for the light to turn green felt like an eternity.

“Please be okay, Carm. Please be alive.”

Each beat of your heart a silent plea to the night sky.

You unsteadily fished your keys from your coat pocket as you crossed the last street, checking your surroundings before letting yourself into the Bear’s front door and locking it quickly behind you. All the lights in front of house were off, just a dull stream of yellow poured out from crack in the doors, leading in the direction of his office.

“Carm? Baby?” you called out, tentatively but loud enough for it to carry through the empty building.

Unsteady legs carried you through the kitchen and around the corner, holding a breath involuntarily as you searched for that familiar mess of curls.

“Carmy?” you called out as you rounded the doorway into his office and found him huddled on the floor. He had tight fists buried in his curls and his breath was coming quick and ragged. Tears tracked down his cheeks disappearing under the sharp line of his jaw, his eyes unfocused and glazed over.

“Shit. Carmy? Can you hear me?” you shed your coat onto the floor and crawled down next to him taking his head into your hands.

He looked at you with pleading eyes, like a scream he didn’t have the strength to let out.

“I’m here. I’m here,” you reassured, never dropping his gaze. You had been through this with him before a few times. He did his best to keep it buried so it didn’t burden you, which inevitably led to all the grief bubbling over.

“I know it’s hard, but try to breathe with me,” you directed, drawing deep breaths through your mouth and holding them before slowly exhaling.

His eyes bore into yours as he tried to override the panic and get back in the driver’s seat of his body. Each breath, each call of your voice, the soft touch of your hands, it all began to ground him.

“It’s me, Carm. I’m real. I’m here,” you repeated. Minutes passed just mirroring each other’s breathing, and he felt the fear slowly release its grip on him.

When his heartbeat finally slowed to a normal pace, he slumped forward into your shoulder, his body exhausted from being in that state for so long. Your arms snaked under his and you stretched your legs out to sit against the wall, pulling him into your chest. You stroked a gentle hand through his hair and pressed kisses to the crown of his head. He buried his ear against the soft flesh of your breast in search of your own heartbeat.

You never pried, never prodded, always waited for him to come to you when things got bad. Sometimes he felt like talking, sometimes he didn’t. What Carmy was willing to share was entirely up to him. Some nights you held him for hours in silence, and some nights he opened up.

“I, uh, I thought I saw him,” he said quietly. His grip tightened on your dress. He drew another shaky breath in before continuing, “I was listening to some music while I was finishing up some payroll stuff and I, I saw him walk by. And he smiled at me. And I just,” he trailed off and nuzzled farther into you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while longer, your hands in his curls and rubbing down his back, his fingers fiddling with the zipper of your dress.

“Maybe you did see him,” you said softly, “Maybe he came to see you.”

His lips twitched into a fleeting smile where they were pressed against your collarbone. His weight against you was starting to feel less defeated and more relaxed.

“You think?”

“When you love someone they’re never really gone,” one of your hands trailed down his arms and began to trace his tattoos sending a chill down his spine.

With that, he sat straight up and looked at you with a pleading look like before, but softer, more him.

“I’m so sorry I missed our date, bug.”

“Honey, you didn’t plan this,” your hand cradled his cheek and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

“Love you so much,” he mumbled into your hand, pressing another series of kisses down your arm. With one finger he tilted your chin towards him snd pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Happy two years babe,” he smiled. One of those real Carmy smiles that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Happy two years, Carm,” you exhaled contentedly. The moment was interrupted by the deep grumble of your stomach cutting through the silence.

“Baby,” he laughed apologetically.

“It’s fine, but we’re picking up Taco Bell,” you smiled reaching for your coat.

He pushed up off the floor and offered you a hand up.

“You look gorgeous, lovebug,” he twirled you a little to take a look at the dress and boots you had put on for your night out, “Sorry I didn’t get to show you off.”

“We’ll go out another time,” you reassured while he helped you into your long coat.

“Does it have to be Taco Bell?” he tried to bargain while he grabbed his keys and his own coat out of his locker.

“Non-negotiable at this point, Carm,” you said flatly.

“You know it’s not even real meat.”

“I know, Carmy.”

He gave an exaggerated defeated sigh and followed you out into the cold Chicago night.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you

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wildgeese98 · 2 months

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I'm sorry but at this point how can anyone honestly think "Chester" is trying to warn Sam away from the Magnus Institute? The red canary case did seen like a warning on a surface level but it was also the thing that got him looking into the institute in the first place. I think someone or something knew enough about Sam to know he would immediately start looking into the Magnus Institute if it just happened to come up on his first day working in the creepy story mines.

It also, for the record, knew enough about Gwen to send her exactly the piece of info she needed so go after Lena. And knew enough about Lena to send the exact thing that would get her to promote Gwen.

It knew Colin was the only person who knew they are being listened to. It knew enough about Colin to know that he was the one person who might know enough about the program to pose a threat. And it knew how to push his buttons to drive him to the point where he would be forced to leave.

It even seemed to know which voice would unnerve Celia the most. And possibly gave a statement connected to her background/ origins in this universe. This probably made her more open to looking into things with Sam, further egging on his search.

Something is continuing to feed Sam tidbits about the Institute. It's stringing him along and pulling him in. When he was ready to give it up, here comes "Chester" unprompted with a new Magnus institute related case. And now guess who's GOING TO THE DAMN BURNED DOWN RUINS!? these are not warnings, they are deliberate bread crumbs leading Sam exactly where someone wants him to be.

Meanwhile everyone else is being fucked with to some degree, with the exception of Alice. Although her "I do not see it" powers might make her immune.

None of this is an accident! Strings are being pulled! We just don't know why or by who. Are the Archives Boys really in the computer and trying to lead Sam to the Institute for some unknown reason? Is there perhaps some other, possibly malevolent force that's stolen their voices and memories and is using them to draw Sam in for its own unsavory purposes? Only time will tell!

All I know is, the only one trying to warn Sam about anything is Alice and he has for the most part not been listening.

#there's some suspicious shit goin on rn #the feel like next episode is gonna be a doozy #tmagp spoilers #tmagp #the magnus protocol

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littlemissomega · 7 months

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Hungry

alpha!Rhyand x omega!reader

Summary: Rhysand finds a way to make his mate eat during her heat

Warnings: smut, cockwarming, teasing, reader not wanting to eat but Rhys convincing her too, bargaining, heat and rut, overstimulation, mention of biting/marking, breeding kink, pet names (Alpha, Omega, little dove, baby), wing play/stimulation, food play if you squint, bad writing, not proof read

Note: Both characters have sensitive wings. Sarah J. Mass created the character “Rhysand” in the book series “A Court Of Thorns and Roses”

Masterlist

“Alpha nooo! I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Shh little dove,” Rhysand coos, “It’s for your own good!”

“I don’t wanna, I just want you!” Y/ whines.

“You have to eat, baby. What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t feed my omega?”

“I don’t need food, I need you!” Y/N wiggles her hips up as if to prove it. Rhysand groans.

Since the mating bond snapped into place almost 2 days ago, Rhysand and Y/N have been caught in a frenzy of searching hands and unquenchable need. Naturally, it triggered YN’s heat and Rhysand’s runt. But while Rhysand had suffered the sweat drenched, desperate and foggy musk of his runt before, this is Y/N’s first heat. Rhysand nearly chokes on her needy scent, struggling to control himself. Everything from her dripping pussy, peaked nipples, ruffled hair, and glazed over eyes makes him want to fuck her silly. Well, more silly. She squirms under his graze.

“Omega, you have to eat,” Rhysand orders, voice shifting into that dominant husk that makes Y/N’s bones turn to jello and every fiber of her being needs to obey him.

The burning pit in her core that had been temporarily appeased threatens to swallow Y/N whole. She writhes, gripping the sheets and moaning.

“Pleaseee! I need you in me now! Feel so empty, Alpha, it hurts so bad so achy! Need you so bad!” she babbles. Rhysand moans at the sight.

“You really will be the death of me, little dove,”

Rhysand pulls her into a sitting position- having to support her weak body- into his lap. His fingers graze the tips of her wings, and Y/N almost cums on the spot. She instinctively grinds against his hard cock. A growl rips from his lips and he grabs her hips, stilling her.

“I’m feeling partially gracious, so I’ll make you a deal, mate,” he groans into her ear, pushing her sweat stick hair back.

She whimpers in response, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells of Ilirian leathers, fresh parchment, night drenched breezes, and cracking fire. The fire goes straight to her core.

“You eat what I feed you, and I’ll let you warm my cock while you do it,” Rhysand proposses, picking up the bowl of praise and little pieces of bread he summoned earlier.

“Okay, please, Alpha, just need you in me so bad!” Y/N practically cries. His cock twitches under her before he slides in in one fluid movement

Y/N clutches Rhysand’s shoulders as she struggles to adjust to his size. She’d lost count of how many times he’s made her cum, but it never seems to be enough. Her body craves more, more, more. Needs it. He becomes the very air she breathes in the frenzy of her first heat.

She tries moving on him, but he grabs her nips, anchoring her against him. Y/N lets out a moan and he takes the opportunity to pop a grape in her mouth.

“Chew,” he orders.

Her jaw obeys on its own accord.

She swallows to say, “Alpha, please, I need more!”

“Yes you do need more grapes, little dove!” Rhysand coos, slipping two more in her mouth.

Y/N pouts, but chews and swallows all the same. She wiggles her nips, searching for some kind of friction; causing Rhys to pinch her thigh.

“Hey!” she exclaims. Rhysand stuff a small pice of bread in her open mouth.

“Be good,l little dove,”

Y/N swallows and licks the crumbs off her ips. Rhysand’s cock twiches in her. An idea pops in her head.

“Alpha, can I have some more grapes?” she asks innocently.

His brows shoot up.

“Of course, omega,”

Rhysand slips a grape through her lips, but she closes them before he withdowls his fingers. Rhys looks at Y/N curiously until starts gently sucking on his fingers. His eyes fill with lust and a growl bubbles up in his throat.

“Careful,” he advises, every syllable dripping with dominance.

Y/N releases his fingers with a ‘pop’, and bites down on the frappe. The sweet juices fill her mouth and she swallows.

“What do you mean?” she asks, again acting innocent.

Y/N leans forward so her nipples graze Rhs’s toned chest. She wraps her arms around his neck, allowing her fingers to graze his wings. He moans and jerks his hips up into her. Y/N’s head drops against his chest as hot sparks radiate through her.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you little dove?” he groans between his teeth as his cock shifts in her tight walls.

“Eating grapes?” she responds breathily, reaching for a grape and popping it in her mouth. The movement causes her to shift an inch off and back against his cock.

Rhysand’s hand grapes her hips with a near bruising grip.

“You’re making it really fucking hard to be a good mate right now,” Rhys groans against her neck. The area prickles, “Cause all I can think about now is all the very very bad, inappropriate things I want to do to you. And I can’t do all those things if you’re running on an empty stomach,”

“Your cock’s got me feeling pretty full though,” she whimpers, squeezing her tight walls around him.

“Caldron fucking boil me,” Rhys growls before snapping into action.

IN a flash, Y/N is flipped on her back with her knees flush against the sides of her chest. Rhys pulls out almost all the way before thrusting back in, causing a moan to slip from her lips.

“There you go, little dove, is this what you wanted?” Rhysands pants, thrusting into her at a relentless speed.

Every drag of his cock inside her is like fire and light and night exploding, and all Y/N can do is nod, throwing her head back. Every drop of coyness drains from her body.

Rhysand takes the opportunity to connect his lips with her new mating bond. The mark of his fangs is a stark contrast against her flushed skin. Y/N writhes under him as he sucks the freshly injured skin between his lips.

“Oh, is that sensitive?” he rumbles against her skin. Y/N nods again, lacing her fingers through his hair.

Y/N’s chest rises off the bed as Rhys’ thumb makes contact with her throbbing clit.

“And that?”

“Fuckkk, gonna cum, Alpha,” Y/N mewls, her toes curling.

A hand glides across Y/N’s wing, and her world shatters. Stars explose in her vision and every cell and nerve in her body pulse and pound and light on fire.

Y/N can barely control her body and doesn’t know what to do with it at once in the intense pleasure. Her hand slides down and grasps onto Rhysand’s wings, tugging the feathers gently.

Rhysand’s shouts and moans of pleasure join hers as his hot cum fills Y/N. The overwhelmingly full, warm sensation shocks her as Rhysand’s knot swells into place. Her head falls to the side and her back arches off the mattress. Y/N is subconsciously aware of saying something, but has no control of her words as tears of pleasure glide down her cheeks.

“Holy fucking Mother, ‘s so good, so good oh my god, don’t stop, too much, so full! Fuck feels so good, caldron boil me, fuck you fill me so well, holy fuck feels so full!” Y/N writhes, tugging and twisting on the feathers of Rhysand’s wings.

Rhysand can feel another climax boiling even though his hips had stilled; his knot practically gluing him in place as his mate pulse and squeezes around him. Just the wing stimulation has him right on the edge.

He grazes his fingers back and forth across his mate’s wings, stimulating her in such a gentle yet instantly pleasurable way. Y/N squirms enough to rock the bed.

“So good, so good, can’t! Oh my Mother, too much!” Y/N babbles, pressing herself further into the mattress.

“I know, little dove, just one more time. Cum one more time for your mate. I’m gonna cum too, pump you so full of my pups you’ll hardly be able to walk,” Rys groans.

They had never talked about having children before, but in that moment, Rhysand has an uncontrollable need to keep his pretty mate knocked up, glowing, and dripping his cum for the rest of her life.

“One more time,” he repeats as he presses his thumb against the hypersensitive spot on her wing, simultaneously grinding into her as much as his swollen knot will allow.

“Rhysand!” Y/N screams as he fills her again. Night explodes through the room.

His load of cum fills her to the brim. It feels she’s about to burst as her climax hits her. Y/N’s vision blacks out and all she can feel is Rhysand’s hot cum.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, little dove,” Rhysand moans.

A night drenched breeze cools her sticky skin as the world comes back into reach. Her eyes flutter open to see Rhys panting above her.

“Wow,” she moans breathilly.

“Wow,” he repeats, smirking at her.

Y/N lets go of Rhysand’s wings as she realizes how tight she was gripping them.

“Fuck, are your wings okay? I didn’t know I was being so…”

“Rough? Don’t worry, I liked it, little dove,” Rhys chuckles, flipping them over so Y/N is resting on top of him. She collapses against him.

A whimper slips from her lips and Rhyand’s knot slips deepers inside of her.

“I know, baby,” Rhysand coos, “It’ll go down soon. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Y/N whispers.

“Good,” he repeats, gently rubbing her back.

Y/N’s eyes droop shut and she feels sleep calling as Rhys taps her gently. She hums in response.

“I think I found my new favorite snack,”

Masterlist

Don't forget to like, reblog, and follow<3!

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

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comfortless · 3 days

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If it's not too much trouble or boring to write, may I ask for more König taking care of sick reader? Thanks :)

(The anon that asked for the other sickfic and that is sick again 🥲)

König brings you breakfast. Tries, at least. There was an attempt made to ensure that the plate of hastily thrown together food and the big mug of lemon tea look nice together. Warm bread and your favorite jam, butchered on the plate with the butter running off to the other side of it entirely. He’s not a chef, and breakfast isn’t quite his forte; König much prefers you cooking in the mornings and the lazy way he can drape himself over you as you do so.

But… you’re ill and look so somber and adorable tucked into bed, wearing one of his shirts and hardly able to keep your eyes open when you’re presented with food. To think this poor little angel would have to suffer so… He momentarily sets everything aside, tells you in a quiet tone of voice that everything around the house has already been handled, so all you need to do is focus on taking care of yourself. No. Actually, he can help you with that too.

Despite any protests, you find yourself seated in his lap, one large hand gently caressing your cheek as a digit prods at your lips. There’s an expectation of compliance. He knows what’s best, or, has himself convinced that he does.

“You have to eat,” he chides, bringing the bread right up to your mouth. Apple butter for the first bite, some other sticky confection on the next. And as frustrating as it might be when all you would like to do is curl back into bed and nurse your aching head with the comfort of a cool pillow, König does not let up until every crumb on the plate has been cleared.

There’s a dollop of jam smattered across your bottom lip from being hand-fed like a disobedient pet. Then, a warm tongue grazing over it and a mouth leaving a trail of kisses up to the peak of your warm cheek. “Messy little thing,” he huffs against your temple. “And your tea..?”

Thankfully, he doesn’t try to scald your mouth feeding you that, too. His hands find your hair instead, then massage at the nape of your neck as you sip away at the bitter drink. There’s a rumble in his chest as he tries to soothe you, humming a song his Oma used to sing to him as a boy until your eyes shut and you relax against his chest in sleep.

If or… when you do try to leave the bedroom, you’re met with a horribly doting brute. He isn’t entirely sure what else he can do to console you. He isn’t one to sit about on his phone for hours on end, but his search history is assuredly a mess by now. You’re not given the chance to walk even a foot past the threshold of your shared room before you’re picked up and toted about like a bride on her wedding day with no warning.

Medicine is pressed into your mouth by his hand while you’re sat on the countertop, trying to assure your weary, giant nurse that you’re fine. He could stand to relax a bit. König is nothing short of a tense, anxious nightmare when he’s worried about something, especially something as important as you. It’s no surprise when you find yourself lying back on the couch with his face buried into your chest as you stroke at the top of his head, the overgrown buzzcut prickling the tips of your fingers. He smiles in his sleep, babbles something like a wish as his hands twitch to squeeze at your sides.

“Just… stay right here.”

#never a bore! i love writing silly soft fluffy Kö #anything to try and cheer up the lil wisp in my phone screen heheh #i hope that you are okay! i will send you all of the love and light in the world hand feed it to you too if i must!#until then i hope you’re resting up and drinking lots of water!

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buddiebeginz · 7 days

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I really wish some of you would realize that when actors agree to do these kinds of interviews most of the questions are preapproved before hand. There will at the very least be some kind of conversation between the actor's team and the interviewer about what questions they may not want asked. So if 911 and Abc really wanted to focus on Tommy and Buck and stop talking about Buddie (which would make the most sense if Buddie was never happening) I’m positive they'd stop answering questions about Buddie.

Also Oliver could have answered that question about Buddie in many different ways he especially could have done more to downplay Buddie happening if he didn't think it was ever in the cards. He's always been very careful to not try and get our hopes up.

He made it a point though to talk about how much chemistry Buck and Eddie (and him and Ryan have) have and said "there's stuff there" between them. He also talked about how if Buddie were to happen he wants the story to be done carefully so as not to perpetuate any queer stereotypes. He literally could have just kept his answer short and sweet and said like he's done in the past that he gets why people ship them and he's open to whatever happens next on the show but he didn't. I just don't believe he would have given such an in depth answer about Buddie if he thought the show was never going there.

Also like was pointed out in this post Oliver's body language was very telling in that part of the interview. He's also usually pretty articulate and he was searching for what to say there and it definitely felt like he was a bit guarded about how he answered so as not to give anything away.

The other thing I think some of you have to realize about will they/won't they storylines is up until the show decides to show their hand they're going to let the audience think that the story is going in one direction. So right now they want us to think that Buck is with Tommy and Eddie is straight.

But they've also been laying down the bread crumbs that will eventually lead to Buddie going canon. Buck's whole bi awakening was centered around Eddie and Eddie has been connected to things ever since. They had Eddie show up to Buck's first date. They had Buck more upset that he lied to Eddie than the fact that his date with Tommy didn't go well. They had Maddie talk about Buck having something he needed to tell Eddie. They had the coming out scene with Buddie mimic the kiss scene with Tommy in some ways. They have Buddie showing up to the bachelor party/wedding in a couples costume when Buck is supposed to be going with Tommy.

Then they're starting to lay the pieces for Eddie's Catholic guilt storyline which will ultimately (likely) lead to a coming out storyline for him as well.

Please do not let any of the interviews and articles get you down or make you jump ship. I’m more convinced than ever that Buddie is happening. I also don’t believe for one minute that Tommy is Buck’s forever love. That person is Eddie. We just have to be patient and let the story play out. We are closer than we have ever been before to seeing our couple together for real.

#911 spoilers #buddie #911!#oliver stark #buddie s7 #911 s7*#os inter

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agentc0rn · 2 months

Text

Flâneur

What if AZ is seen wandering in the city lol. Might not happen, may happen, who knows.

Short story I randomly made up for no reason if anyone wants to read based on this art (it's not the best but I wanted to indulge in my thoughts):

He wandered. It took great effort and time to get around the labyrinth of buildings. It did not help that his aged senses struggled with grasping all the novelties he had never seen before in his lifetime, nor did it help that hundreds of curious gazes and whispers accompanied him all the way through.

He had been well used to eye contact; not because of his height, but rather because of his status and duties he once held. Though now he was no more than a lost empty shell of a man, merely equipped with a heavy heart and a luggage full of harrowing memories and bygone knowledge that seemed of no use here.

He was a nobody, yet his presence was pronounced. Aside from his stature, his ragged, dull-coloured outfit and his long, unkempt white hair contrasted greatly with the finely made dresses and suits worn by the inhabitants of this great megalopolis. He stood out as a sore thumb, a prickly weed amidst a garden of small colorful flowers. Even though this place was formerly his home, he only became a stranger, a foreigner both in time and space.

Shunning the looks, gasps and hurried whispers he had garnered, he marched on, with no destination set in mind. An old habit that had turned into a lifelong custom - an eternal wayfarer he had become and identified himself as, since he had no home to return to. It had been long gone, washed away by the tides of time.

He could not help but admire just how the place brimmed with life - the way the afternoon golden sunlight poured down on the wide paved streets and avenues, where people chattered and strolled about, carrying bags full of goods purchased from the market stands. Carriages rocked and passed by, along with carts loaded with supplies of organic products. Pidoves pecked on bread crumbs at every chance they could get.

The longer he observed, his mind stirred up thoughts and ideas and imagination of all sorts. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he saw himself opening up the mass contraption, unleashing a huge brilliant beam of light that pierced through the clouds, the skies, to the heavens above, soon to scorch upon the earth. Destruction was his legacy, forever engraved onto his name, a grave sin of his that took the form of a key that he long bore for centuries. The effects of his crime more or less tagged him everywhere, lurking around within his shadow.

It haunted him.

He took a deep breath and doddled the other way, searching for a place to sit. His legs needed a break and so did his mind. He continued onwards until a fragrant scent reached his senses, causing him to stop in his tracks. Taking a closer look, he found a cart stocked with motleys of blooming flowers. There, a short, petite woman donned in a white dress looked around the pots, still yet to decide on which one to choose.

He couldn't help but draw near, all while memories seeped into his mind where his younger self plucked a handful of flowers, tying them and placing them onto his beloved one as a crown. As he bumbled towards the cart, the short-haired brunette took notice of his presence and backed away from him, startled. He mumbled an apology with a tilt of his head, stepping away from the cart. Once she regained composure, she smiled and invited him to come forward with a flick of her hand, quickly dismissing the awkwardness of the encounter.

"Lovely, aren't they?" she said, leaning towards one pot filled with daffodils and sniffed one. AZ did not expect the lady to speak, yet alone to him out of all people. But he did not want to rudely decline a conversation. He hardly exchanged a conversation with a human being for so long in the countless years of his wandering.

He yearned to regain a sense of humanity again, for he had long lost his sense of self along the way in his descent to desolation.

"...Yes, they certainly are," words parted from his lips. "Fleetingly beautiful. Small, but valuable. Truly Earth's finest wealth." With his gloved, coarsened hand, he gently lifted a drooping rose and over to the lavender. The lady in white's smile remained as she eyed his solemn expression. Her soft gaze held a tender curiosity, free of disdain and wariness, unlike the gawking reactions from others. She turned away briefly, returning to her search for some moments just before re-opening her mouth.

"With all of that cumbersome load and thick garment, you must have traveled a great distance. From where you might be?" She inquired. On her right, a Floette drifted up towards AZ, smiling brightly the same way her partner did. As soon as he caught sight of the Floette, it broke his stolid, stony expression. He tried to utter a response but failed. From the bottom of his stomach, grief resurfaced, securing his throat at a chokehold. Tears blurred his vision and he fluttered his eyes quickly. The Floette tapped on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, but a few tears trickled down his pale, hollow-cheeked face.

"I...I apologize. I am suddenly reminded of something," he stuttered and looked away in shame. He had thought he had dried all his tears up after all these years.

Taking a quick gander at her surroundings, the lady beckoned to him to follow and he did so without a complaint until they reached a small alleyway, where ratattas scrambled out about. The lady fumbled in her bag and pulled out a handkerchief. "This should be a better place. I should be the one giving an apology, you did not do any wrongdoing. I am no fan of the public either." He accepted her generous offer and dabbed at his eyes, then gave his thanks.

"In a way, you remind me of my grandfather," she said. "Gentle, soft-spoken and fond of nature." As she spoke, the Floette twirled around AZ in a small happy dance. He cracked a weak smile, then returned to his usual countenance. .

"Do I?" he questioned.

"Your mannerism and tone precisely resemble him. I would have loved for him to meet you, surely you would have been good friends."

He smiled and said nothing. They stood in silence, gazing outward at the end of the alleyway, with small streaks of people flowing in and out of the street.

"It is better for me to go now. I worry that I am troubling you, having meddled with your errands," he said with concern, looking downwards at the lady. "I thank you for your acts of kindness. I truly appreciate it." For every word he said, he meant it. He glanced sideways at the lady's Floette and it dawned on him that he had something with him that he could give to the lady as a return of favor.

AZ dug into his pockets.

"This may not be much, but I hope that you may use these to grow in your garden." He said, extending his long slender arm towards her, handing her a bag of red trillium seeds that he had collected not too long ago in his journey, in hopes of planting along barren areas long affected by the war and the destruction of the ultimate weapon.

"Oh, you are too kind, traveler! I have heard of these before, but never have I expected to possess them!" she placed both of her hands on her chest, gushing. "Do you see this, Fleurine? We can grow more!" she beamed to her companion, who spun around once more in great joy. She turned back forward to him and grinned.

"Before we depart, my name is Acacia for your knowledge, should we ever cross paths and meet again. It was a great pleasure of exchanging some brief pleasantries with you, good sir! May your journey be filled with great tidings!" she waved at him, joined by her Floette, who waved her flower at him.

"Likewise. My name is AZ. If we do not meet again, then let those seeds be a souvenir of me. I wish you a prosperous life ahead," he said."Au revoir, Ehzie!" the young lady called one last time, and made her way back to the market. Waving back and nodding, he trotted off. He managed to make his way to the end of the city, apparently named Lumiose, with hope sprouting within his ancient, grief-ridden heart.

#pokemon fanart #my art #pokemon legends z #pokemon legends za #pokemon legends z-a #pokemon az #AZ #pokemon #pokemon legends #floette #this is probably one of the few times I drew city landscapes... there's some crookedness but nonetheless a worthwhile challenge and practic #I made the girl dress up in white to represent innocence and have a floette accompany her.#kalos #az pokemon

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animetrashlord-007 · 10 months

Text

Warnings // yandere

Another house ransacked.

Another trail gone cold.

Another dead end.

Weeks of searching and nothing to show for it. Like a ghost in the wind, you vanished. Just up and gone. He won’t go as far as to say he underestimated you and yet…

What started as a game is now a matter of pride. He simply cannot allow you to win, cannot allow you to best him. And while it is unbecoming of him, he searches for the smallest clue: a burlap bag, severed sprouts, bitter solanine. It won’t lead anywhere useful – he knows this. Even so he follows your bread crumbs.

Going through the motions, he tracks the peddler unfortunate enough to have sold you a bag of potatoes. The hunt is tiresome to him now, perhaps even loathsome. He gains no real satisfaction from slaughtering the fodder you’ve placed in his path. What he truly desires is your pretty little throat between his teeth. He doesn't want to play anymore; he’s ready to collect.

So he continues this infernal chase, the distance ever-shortening, your energy always waning. The cards are stacked in his favour. You'll relent soon. Your little form is no match for him. Eventually your limbs will fail you, your mind will break. The moment your heart hesitates marks his victory.

You will fall.

And when you do, he'll be there.

Ready to snatch you up,

Ready to devour.

Then you'll learn what it means to tempt a king.

#midnight delights #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna #yandere #yandere sukuna #yandere anime #yandere x reader #sukuna x reader #yandere jjk #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #anime x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #male yandere x reader #anime yandere #animetrashlord-007

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cerealboxlore · 6 months

Note

I absolutely love the idea of the rock of eternity having a studio Ghibli aesthetic

I just...I love the clutter

This is an adorable and extraordinary headcanon, and I love it!

It would make sense that after centuries of searching for a new Champion of Magic, the wizard would neglect keeping the Rock of Eternity, tidy and clean. Dust gathers up and walls crumble, but the beauty of its magical essence stays the same.

Plenty of doors leading to all sorts of realms and rooms that clutter from the ground to the ceiling. The Wizard's ghost floating through without worry, while Billy struggles to maneuver through them like a maze, and tries to walk carefully without tipping over a tower of spell books heavier than he is.

It's not that the Rock of Eternity is dirty or messy, no, it's that after an eternity of existing, one tends to stop caring for organization and where one leaves their personal belongings in their abode. Billy knows this is what the Wizard says, but the child would like to include that this is HIS abode now, too. With his new chapter as the Champion of Magic, the Rock of Eternity becomes cleaner. Well, as clean as a place can get after a 10 year old goes ham wild with a broom and a duster.

Still, after cleaning, the mess and disorganization never truly leave. There will always be stacks of books in areas of the Rock of Eternity where there should not be. There will always be potion ingredients hidden throughout the walls and halls like left behind bread crumbs. And there will always be the Wizard, who passes through the former silent halls of his home and now smiles, knowing his home is in good hands.

Billy has a home again, and the clutter is his to cherish.

#this was such a lovely ask #tysm for the ask!#Billy Batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #rock of eternity #studio ghibli #I think there's an ancient and magical beauty to the Rock of Eternity that we haven't seen yet #I would love to explore it one day in depth

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lolasimms · 1 year

Text

lazy sundays

Summary: Your wife has an affinity for all things orderly, neat and precise. You on the other hand are the complete opposite. To her Sundays are for productivity, but you have other ideas.

When you walked into the kitchen, your wife was already seated at the table eating her very practical breakfast. She was a very particular person. As always, her black coffee was to her right, served in a plain, white mug. A cup of water sat to her left.

Next to the water was a plate of plain, buttered toast, and beside her coffee was a small container of greek yogurt. A mostly eaten grapefruit sat unfinished in a bowl in front of her with a jagged, spiked spoon next to it. Her precise meal was part of what she insisted kept her body in shape. To her breakfast was simple, she'd spend the rest of the day pumping her body full of protein anyways.

She didn't hear you come into the room. Her tablet was propped up on its stand, and she was scrolling through a patient assessment from the hospital in between bites of bitter fruit and strong coffee. Walking up behind her, you tousled her wet hair as you passed by her, disrupting the smooth style.

You yawned on your way to the coffeemaker and pulled your favorite mug out of the cabinet above. You set the giant, mug etched with Moroccan patterns, down a little too loudly, earning your wife's attention.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she teased, pushing her hair back into place. "Sleep well?"

You grunted and poured a glug of vanilla syrup into your coffee before returning the bottle back to the pantry and kicking it closed. You grunted at her, not ready to speak yet. Coffee first. Glaring at her from behind your mug, you took a long sip of coffee out of the mug. You tipped the mug up, flashing her your middle finger.

Your hair was a mess, and your eyes were still tired. You'd thrown on an oversized, ratty t-shirt with holes around the collar, worn thin from years of use. You padded back over to her in your fluffy slippers and bent to give her a kiss. While your lips met hers, you reached over and took her tablet, taking it with you as you returned to your seat.

"No work on Sundays."

Abby gave you a half hearted scowl while leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest as if she was going to challenge you, but then thought better of it. "So," she asked with a smirk, "Are you going to eat breakfast today or just over-caffeinate?"

You tucked your leg under you and sat down before taking another pointed sip of coffee just to flash her with another flick of your middle finger. "I haven't decided yet."

Abby hummed and pushed the plate of toast across the table to you. "Eat." The two pieces of bread were toasted to your exact specifications: lightly browned and slathered in butter with each piece being cut into four sharp little triangles.

"Wow. Toast." You teased, opening your mouth wide and shoveling in a toast point. Your cheeks bulged as you chewed, and she shook her head at you. "You shouldn't have gone through the trouble, babe." Crumbs fell onto your shirt when you spoke with your mouth full, and you brushed them onto the floor.

Your wife was ever amused by your carefree nature - whatever that meant. She thought you played too loosey-goosey with life, and you thought she had a stick up her ass at least 90% of the time. Her proposal had possibly been the most unromantic experience of your life and could have only been worse if she had presented you with a prenup attached to the ring. But still, you'd jumped up and down with your hands over your mouth, screaming your acceptance before pouncing on her for a kiss. You'd knocked the ring out of her hand, and you cried for fifteen minutes straight in the middle of the park where you had met while she searched the grass. Of course, when she found it and slid it on your finger, you started crying all over again and subjecting poor Abby to the accusing eyes of anyone who passed by.

"What's the plan for today mommy?" You wiggled from side-to-side in your chair doing your happy dance while you ate the rest of your toast.

Abby looked very satisfied with herself when she told you that she had already done everything on her to do list. "I went for to the gym, showered, called dad, put in a grocery order, did a little work, and had breakfast."

You glowered at her and shoved another toast point into your mouth to keep from telling her to shove her over-efficiency up her nicely rounded ass.

"What about you, darling?"

Shrugging, you chased your food down with a couple sips of coffee and dusted your fingers off over your plate. "Same shit I do every Sunday." You felt her eyes on you when you hopped out of your seat and set your plate in the sink before returning to the table and clearing her away.

"So nothing?"

You smiled while you rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. You didn't need to see her to know that she was still leaned back in her chair, legs fully extended and crossed under the table, arms folded across her chest, left eyebrow raised with her blue eyes sparkling as she spewed what she considered to be impugnable sarcastic wit.

You closed the dishwasher and hit it with your hip to make sure the latch caught. Abby was sitting exactly as you expected her to, and you cocked your head to the side as you drank her in. Her honey coloured hair damp, as it rested against her Henley top. Pink lips soft as ever and arms looking so delectable you thought you'd combust right there.

"Mostly, yes." Your hand was on your hip as you leaned against the counter.

She hummed at you as she left her seat to retrieve her tablet. "Well, if you have nothing planned, I'm going to keep working." As she passed you, she dropped a sweet kiss on your lips before refilling her coffee before retiring to the living room.

Trailing behind her, you grabbed your phone from the charger in the beroom and took a seat across from her in the armchair that faced the couch. You scrolled through social media mindlessly, liking and hearting, chuckling at memes, and quickly becoming bored. Putting your phone down, you leaned your head in your hands and sighed heavily. Abby glanced up from her work, saw you were fine - just over dramatic - and went back to working.

It was hard to get over how hot she was, and you loved looking at her. You did it often - just sitting and looking at her. Every piece of her was perfect. You loved her toned legs and how long they were and how strong she was. Her pants always hung low on her hips, held up by the most adorable ass you had ever seen. It was perfect for squeezing and making her yelp when you bit it. An accidental little moan slipped out when you thought about the last time you'd gotten your hands on her. Abby's hands stilled and her eyes snapped to yours. The look she gave you confirmed she knew you were perving on her.

"Stop ogling me."

You groaned and slumped in your chair. "Ugh, but I can't help it." You dropped your head back and complained to the ceiling. "You don't understand," you whined. "You're just so fine. I can't help it."

Abby deadpanned. "You'll live." And then she went right back to working.

You snapped back up in your seat and glared at her, testing her to see if she would break first but knowing full well that it would be you. Her eyes were on the tablet, but her hands were idle, and she was having trouble keeping her amused smirk at bay. That little upwards tug of her lips might as well have been an invitation. Crawling out of your chair, you padded over to her. You stood next to the couch, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you waited for her attention.

Your doting wife continued to pretend to ignore you. She continued to work, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the tablet and not you. If she did, the game would be over, and what would be the fun in that? Wiggling your fingers greedily as you reached for the table, you plucked it out of her hand and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"You're an ass. You know that right?" Taking her hands, you opened her arms and crawled into her embrace. You settled onto her lap, rocking your hips against her with a coy smile. Abby hummed deep in her chest when you kissed her chastely. It was the sweetest whisper of a kiss with your hands on either side of her face.

"And you're needy." Abby's hands slipped under your shirt. She leaned into you, asking for another kiss. You gave it to her, and she took more than you were giving. She nipped at your lip and tugged your mouth back to hers. You moaned into her mouth, and she swept it away with tongue. She tasted bitter - like coffee and grapefruit - but she felt good.

Underneath the hem of your shirt, she pawed at your bottom, kneading your ass while she guided you to rock back and forth on her lap. You felt her crotch as she ground it up against you; you were greedy for her - just the hint of her arousal making you clench around nothing. Hands wandering from her broad shoulders to her hair, you sank your fingers into the gorgeous strands you were obsessed with, grabbing it at the root and making her seeth. You broke the kiss and pulled her head back, holding yourself just out of range.

Abby bared her teeth at you and tried to nip at your neck, but your hand in her hair acted as an anchor and kept her at bay. Rising up on your knees, you held your lips just shy of her, close enough to feel your warm breath drift across her lips but far enough away that she couldn't steal a kiss. You basked in the power of depriving her of what she wanted - consequences be damned. Teasing her with a little taste, you licked her lips playfully. Abby immediately tried to snap her teeth at you, but she was too slow to catch you.

"Come on, wife. Let me go." She wasn't asking. It was an order presented as a choice. Her hands were starting to roam your body, skimming up and down your sides, ghosting your skin with her fingers. The featherlight touches erupted goosebumps on your skin and sent your shivering as an excited chill ran through your body. She knew exactly where to touch without even having to look at you.

When her hands brushed the bottom of your breast, you tugged her hair back farther in warning.

"Are you looking for trouble, baby?" Her voice was low, and her eyes sparked trouble. You knew that tone well, and you loved what came along with it.

You nodded deviously and licked the side of her face, disappointed when she didn't react. You had at least expected her to look surprised.

"I warned you once," she said. "Let go."

You shook your head from side to side. You weren't giving up your power - even if it was just an illusion.

"Remember, you did this to yourself." was as much of a warning as you got. Abby pinched your nipple hard, making you buck against her. Your grip in her hair loosened for just a moment, but that was all that she needed to pull herself out of your grasp. She moved quickly, grabbing your wrists and forcing them behind your back. The position pushed your back into an arch and put your breasts in her face. Your nipples were hard peaks, and you looked on nervously while she rubbed her lips over them.

"Are you going to be good?" She sucked your nipple through the shirt, and you tried to pull your hands free. She looked up at you with her mouth on your breast. The fabric of your shirt was starting to darken, wet with her spit.

You whined, trying to wiggle out of her hold while still keeping her mouth on you. Abby held your wrists tightly and snickered at your helplessness. She moved to your other breast and repeated the same torture. She teased you, switching back and forth between them until her plan backfired and she ran out of patience.

She looked at you desperately, undecided. Her choices were either to let you go and touch more of you and risk your impertinence or leave you restrained and her choices limited.

You took advantage of her frustration and ground yourself against her clothed-cunt. You knew you were soaked and probably had left a wet spot on her grey sweat shorts where you had been rocking against her.

Still, Abby held your arms behind you and held you hostage on her lap.

"You could just let me go, darling." You teased her, doing a fair impression of her voice.

"But I don't trust you" she copied yours, and you scoffed.

"I don't sound like that," you argued. At this point it didn't matter if your arms were behind your back or not. Your bratty attitude didn't require the use of your hands.

Abby's eyebrow went up and gave you a stern look. Her beautiful eyes were framed with the most delicate blonde lashes. Even when she was trying to look angry, you found her face sweet. She was far too serious in everything she did, and you loved her for it. Just thinking about how much you loved her made your heart swell, and you knew the moment that she saw how deeply you felt for her written across your face.

Abby released her grip on you and let your arms free. Immediately, you lifted your shirt over your head and let it hit the floor. Abby watched you silently as you crawled off her lap and stood to remove your underwear. You smiled sheepishly as it slid down your leg, and you kicked it away. She always looked at you like you were beautiful, and you still weren't used to being so thoroughly adored.

You held your hand out for her to take. "I'm going back to bed. Do you want to come?"

Abby snickered and took your hand as she stood up. "Pun intended, darling? She tugged your hand and led you to the bedroom while you rolled your eyes at the terrible joke. You hopped onto the bed, bouncing on your knees while she undressed and squealing when she grabbed reached into the draw for her strap, quickly putting it on and then you turning you around by the waist and crawled on top of you.

She kissed you without a word, nudging your legs open with her knees and sliding between them. Her arms caged you in on either side of your head, and you snaked your arms around her neck and begged for a kiss. Abby wasted no time in giving you what you wanted. Her lips were soft and pink, and you lost yourself in how she made you feel. Eyes closed, you sighed happily as she kissed you until you were dizzy and obsessed with what her mouth and tongue were doing.

Her strap was sliding back and forth against your slit, your slick wetting the pink piece of rubber. Abby bucked causing you to moan, positioning herself at your entrance. You lifted your head to ask for another kiss, while she guided the tip of the strap into you. While she slanted her lips back over yours, you smiled into the kiss. Your mouth went slack as she pushed into you; the slow burn muddling your brain. Abby's lips moved to your jaw and your neck and your ear. Her mouth was everywhere she could reach as she moved your hand out from between your bodies and fully sank into you.

Arching against her, your body pressed against hers and your limbs folded around her. You clung to her, draping your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Abby settled her body weight on top of you and slowly began to move, dragging out your pleasure with long strokes and slow pushes into you. Your need was building. Each time she pulled back, she left just enough inside you to make you clench around her, desperate to stay with her.

"More. Please, Abs. More. You're torturing me." You whispered your plea against her neck, kissing the secret spot under her ear that only you knew about. Your teeth grazed against her skin. You nipped the same spot, and she growled at you and snapped her hips against yours.

Her name fell out of your mouth on a curse, and you sucked the same spot into your mouth, lathing your tongue over it before sucking at it again. You worked the spot, not stopping until you had marked her.

You begged her again for more. She was too soft, too gentle, and you needed more . You were so close and you just needed a little more.

Abby lifted her head and rose back up on her knees. She looked at you greedily. She gripped your thighs and hauled you roughly against her. You back arched and you called out when she bottomed out in you.

"Harder. Please. Fuck me harder. Please." Your hands grabbed at your breasts and pinched your nipples. You were ready to come. "Let me come on your cock, please please please." you whined and pleaded while she slammed her hips against yours and gave you exactly what you had asked for.

Abby sucked her thumb into her mouth to wet it before dropping it to your clit. You continued to beg for more while she rubbed you. Her fingers and strap were pushing you towards ecstasy. Your body clenched around her.

"Come."

With one word, the need in you snapped, and your orgasm hit you.

Out of breath and exhausted, she pulled out and flopped down onto the bed beside you, immediately pulling you to her and kissing your forehead. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it whoosh out all at once.

Resting your head on her chest, you patted her chest contentedly. "I told you Sundays were for staying in bed."

#wife abby anderson #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #femme reader x abby anderson #reader x abby anderson #abby anderson fic

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mybabydenkikaminari · 1 year

Text

Compilation of Rlain and Renarin references and mentions of each other

Hi everyone! I have become obsessed with my two babes since I finished RoW and I haven’t found any compilation of all the times they talk about each other, so here we are. There are not a lot of them but the list will grow so much in the Knights of Wind and Truth, that I wanted to be ready!! And If you are wondering, yes I am sure that I have every single one of them (thanks to the Stormfather that we can search for words with Kindle). Enjoy the little crumbs that we got <3.

The Way of Kings

None

Words of Radiance

None

Oathbringer:

Chapter 37 - Rock PoV

“Don’t deny it, Rock. Lopen is … well Lopen. And you’re obviously… um… you. But I’m still the strange one.”

Lunamor slapped dough onto a rock, then pointed toward where Rlain -the Parshendi bridgeman they used to call Shen- sat on a rock near his squad, watching quietly as the others laughed at Eth having accidentally stuck a stone to his hand. He wore warform, and so was taller and stronger than he had been before-but the humans seemed to have completely forgotten that he was there.

“Oh”, Renarin said. “I don’t know if he counts.”

“This thing is what everyone always tells him” Lunamor said “Over and over again.”

Renarin stared for a long time while Lunamor continued to make bread. Finally, Renarin stood up and dusted off his uniform, walked across the stone plateau, and settled down beside Rlain. Renarin fidgeted and didn’t say anything, but Rlain seemed to appreciate the company anyway.

Chapter 55 - Rlain PoV:

Rlain sipped his drink and wished Renarin were here; the quiet lighteyed man usually made a point of speaking with Rlain. The others jabbered excitedly, but didn’t think to include him. Parshmen were invisible to them-they’d been brought up that way.

And yet, he loved them because they did try.

“So…” Skar said. “Are we going to talk about Renarin?”

The twenty-eight men shared looks, many settling down around the barrel of Rock’s drink as they once had around the cookfire. There were certainly a suspicious number of buckets to use as stools, as if Rock had planned for this, The Horneater himself leaned against the table he’d brought out for holding cups, a cleaning rag thrown over his shoulder.

“What about him?” Kaladin asked, frowning and looking around at the group.

(They proceed to complain that reading is feminine with one of the most stellar quotes of Lopen: “Drehy likes other guys. That’s like … he wants to be even less around women than the rest of us. It’s the opposite of feminine. He is, you could say, extra manly”)

Kaladin rubbed his forehead, and Rlain empathized.

He felt embarrassed for them-they were simply too concerned about what a person should and shouldn’t be doing. It was because they didn’t have forms to change into. If Renarin wanted to be a scholar, let him be a scholar

“I’m sorry” Kaladin said, holding out his hand to calm the men “I wasn’t trying to insult Drehy. But storms, men. We know that things are changing. Look at the lot of us. We’re half-way to being lighteyes! We’ve already let five women into Bridge Four, and the’ll be fighting with spears. Expectations are being upended-and we’re the cause of it. So let’s give Renarin a little leeway, shall we?”

Rlain nodded. Kaladin was a good man.

Rhythm of War

Chapter 54 - Renarin PoV

We need more, Glys said. We need more like us, who will be. Who?

I can think of one, Renarin said, who would be a perfect choice…

Chapter 79 - Rlain PoV (Honorable Mention)

No, Venli is here, he thought. There were two of them. He’d never particularly liked Venli, but at least he wasn’t the sole listener. It made him wonder. Should they… try to rebuild? The idea nauseated him for multiple reasons. For one, the times he’d tried mateform himself, things hadn’t gone the way he -or anyone really- had expected.

Chapter 111 - Rlain PoV

Keep fighting, a voice said in his head. Salvation will be, Rlain, listener. Bridger of Minds. I have been sent to you by my mother, at the request of Renarin, Son of Thorns. I have watched you and seen your worthiness.

Chapter 114 - Rlain PoV

Renarin knows? Rlain thought

He suggested you, Tumi said. And told our mother about you. He was right. Our bond will be strong, and you will be wondrous. We are awed by you, Rlain. The Bridger of Minds. We are honored.

Rlain had established that he needed to stay, at least until Renarin returned.

#rlain #renarin kholin #rlainarin #stormlight archive #oathbringer #rhythm of war #my post

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stopscammingartists · 17 days

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Not trying to defend Sam's current/recent actions, but I just want to direct people to this post cause I see some people trying to be like "Toby didnt know." No, Toby knew So Sorry was basically just Sam's fursona, that Sam is a fetish artist, and they both onew that Sam was going to get hate when people made the connection. afaik the Kickstarter and Undertale development predates all the FV stuff being public knowledge.

I know this isnt about Toby, but say what you will about Sam, I think the way Toby tried to remove So Sorry, a pretty pricy Kickstarter backer reward (even if he offered a refund) is pretty skeezy. I just wanted to set the record straight here.

https://www.tumblr.com/samael/143135058955

Undertale was released in 2015, the extent of how bad Floraverse can be wasn't seen until 2018. Undertale isn't relevant to the abuse Floraverse does and I am not particularly found of you trying to redirect the conversation away from the abuse Sameal funds in Floraverse to how Samael was somehow wronged by Toby thinking it's a bad idea for a fetish character to exist in an all ages game.

The reason I am humoring you is because Samael tried to set up the same exact dynamic that Glip did with PMD-E, where an all-ages project has closely officially associated pornographic content that's easy to find for kids.

I never put much thought into the Undertale situation because I don't care about peoples fetishes or fetish ocs, but I do care about adults that try to leave bread crumbs for kids to find their fetish content. With Undertale, I didn't put much thought into it because Toby did everything he could to offset the grooming bomb, and was mostly successful, but thinking of it, if Samael had it their way, this could have been very, very, very fucking bad. Of course they would be friends with someone like Glip, actually.

Like, ok, so kids are going to be googling "Muffet Undertale", they're going to be googling "Sans Undertale", they're going to be googling "So Sorry Undertale".

You know what they're going to see when they google "So Sorry Undertale"? Samael's fetish art. Because they're a fetish artist, and they wanted their oc that they use in their fetish content in the children's video game. Their official connection to the project puts SEO weight on their fetish art for these search terms.

That's objectively a problem, and it's not appropriate for Samael to specifically demand a character used in fetish art to be used here. It's also obvious Toby thought ahead about kids finding even fan-made porn content of his characters, which is why he asked for the "undertail" tag to be used early on.

So what was Toby really supposed to do here? No. Seriously.

He offered a refund, but you say that wasn't good enough. (Which...for the record.....why wouldn't it be?)

Samael refused to submit a character that had no fetish associations and would be free of the logistical community safety issues So Sorry comes with.

I think Samael forcing this character into the game, was a massive violation of consent. It's fine to have your fetishes! Really! It is! But it's not okay to force projects to become associated with those fetishes if the team behind it does not want it to be. That's what's fucking skeezy.

So Toby did what he had to in order to protect the kids who would inevitably play his game, he made the So Sorry incredibly hard to find. Kids are less likely to be fond of or look up a character they don't even know exists. I think it was a clever solution to an atrocious situation Samael put Toby in. Which is probably why it only registered to me just now how bad what Samael did there actually was.

#floraverse #so sorry undertale #glitchedpuppet #forbidden flora #forbiddenflora #tip: i am so fucking mad

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