#crab me a plenty

[scottie-draws-sometimes]

Finally after so long!!!!! I’ve done fully colored redesigns of the mane 6 (w/ matching background!!)

So happy with how they all turned out. I also have one for spike and the cmc, so I might post those next!

[horusmenhosetix]

I would like everybody to look at this dramatic photo of two crabs mating

Thank you and have a nice day

[allroseshave-their-pricks]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

:O thank you!!!

Sharing music recommendations with my friends

Swing dancing!

When people send me reels that are secretly rick rolls or weezer riffs

The fact that my thesis defense is on Tuesday and then I'll be FREE

Concerts!!! I love my fun little punk/emo garage shows :)

[brickwhartley]

Dear People of Tumblr,

I don’t know if you heard the news when it dropped, but I left the sunny island of Clawland in the rearview mirror a few months ago and stepped into a role back here at Tumblr as Chief Officer of Merchandising and Physical Engineering. I’ve been sharing my wares over at my Emporium, and more importantly, you’ve been buying! 

Things have been going so darn well that last night, I had plenty of time to reflect on how far I’ve come. No blockers in my way, KPIs going through the roof, everyone happy with their new mugs and pins and tshirts, and me at the head of it all… everything’s coming up Brick, right? 

But one thing about merchandising is, well, it’s fun, and creative… but there isn’t much clicking. Brick Misses Clicks! 

I thought about how dang popular my little crabby friends were on the dashboard when I was away. Spawning like crazy! There’s no denying it: you kids love those crabs. You’re even spending cold hard cash sending them to each other. 

So, the question was: how to combine that kind of clicktastic feature you know and love, with something new? Something FRESH? 

And then, it hit me!

🦀🐛🧀👻🐴🍪!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I hereby announce that I’m taking temporary leave of my position at the Emporium in order to jump teams and become Tumblr’s Chief Reactions Officer. 

Beginning today, you’ll be able to SLAM those react buttons at the bottom of every Tumblr post to express your emotions. On the web at least. Not in the mobile apps. (I’m a budget whiz, but not that much of a whiz.)

And listen, this is short notice. I haven’t slept all night, putting this together, ever since the idea struck me while stargazing and reflecting on my life and choices. So the actual reactions available to use are limited for now. They were actually just the most recently used emojis in my phone.

But I just know you’ll love them anyway. Because they come from me, BRICK! 

Yours clickfully, 

Brick Whartley Chief Reactions Officer Chief Officer of Merchandising and Physical Engineering (On Leave)

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

hungry eyes | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick is a great cook, and a chef must taste-test all his meals, mustn’t he? including you.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), finnick is a munch and a thigh man, praise, swearing, cum swallowing, fingering

notes: i’m so sorry about the long-writing-time-to-short-word-count ratio. i don’t know if i like this ahhh. lmk what y’all think <3

word count: 3.5k

You were passing through the entry room of your house when the front door opened with a slight creak. Stepping through the doorway was Finnick, dressed in a white billowy Henley shirt (he had a few buttons purposely left open and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows) and a pair of dark grey pants. 

His hair was a windswept mess of bronze waves with different strands poking out in various directions, but he somehow made it work. He looked… 

Wow. 

You, on the other hand, were still in your pyjamas, wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and cosy thigh-high socks. 

As soon as he entered the house, you could tell what kind of mood he was in. Drained. That tended to happen whenever he had to spend the day with his prep team and prepare for an upcoming event in the Capitol. 

His cheerless eyes found yours and you swore a spark of life flickered in them.

“Hey, Finn,” you said. “Are y—oh!” 

Before you could finish, he had wordlessly stepped towards you and collected you in his arms. Your feet left the ground as he picked you up and continued walking further into the house.

“What are you doing?” you gasped.

Your legs curled around his back, your body leaning into his chest so as not to fall backwards. He smelled really nice, like how you imagined sunlight hitting the sea on a warm summer’s day would smell. 

“Making something to eat,” he finally spoke. His eyes briefly flickered to yours. “I’m hungry.”

Well, you did send him off that morning with some of last night’s leftover crab cakes, so he couldn’t have been that hungry. Plus, he was with his prep team. They would’ve had plenty of fancy Capitol-esque food on hand to satiate him.

Weird.

“So that means I don’t get a hello?” you teased.

Finally, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips sweetly and softly to your own, his hands not-so-sweetly squeezing the plush of your ass as he did.

He pulled back and gave you a mischievous look. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You smiled bashfully in response. “Hi.”

You had passed through the archway into the kitchen, the entire room now being bathed in sunlight from the four o’clock sun. It was the picture of a perfect beach house—driftwood and seashell ornaments, sand-coloured benchtops, and large wooden-framed bay windows.

Finnick set you down on the counter facing the stove, your legs now dangling over the edge. 

“You just had to bring me into the kitchen with you?” you asked.

He was already out of your arms, scouring the cupboards for various ingredients for whatever it was he was planning to cook up. 

“Gotta have something pretty to look at,” he said, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

Warmth crept into your cheeks. “Right. Obviously.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, apart from the clatter of a metal pot being set on the stove and the splashing of various vegetables and chicken stock being thrown into boiling water. Your legs swung lightly as you watched Finnick in quiet admiration. 

Steam wafted into the air, bringing with it a sweet herbaceous smell. You hated to admit it, but Finnick was an unbelievable cook; much better than you were. He was constantly offering to teach you his culinary skills which often led to the two of you spending hours together in the kitchen. Burnt and over-salted meals were a common result. Regardless, you enjoyed the time together.

Sometimes it even led to other things as well… things very unrelated to cooking.

Finnick seemed to hyper-focused on the soup he was stirring; he was being unusually quiet, making you wonder what was going on inside his head. Had something happened during the time he was away?

“How’d you go today?” you asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, humming a vague response.

“Mm,” you copied, wearing a teasing smile.

He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. Then he did something weird. 

His head turned again, and he gave you a double-take, eyes falling from your face and to your legs. Your pyjama shorts had ridden up to the crease where your legs and hips connected, and your thighs were squished together on the counter, the cuff of your thigh-high socks digging into the soft flesh. His eyes flickered to yours once more before he turned back around.

Very weird.

An unexpected wave of goosebumps travelled down your entire body. You swallowed nervously and averted your eyes to your lap. It was absurd how a single look from him could cause you to react so strongly. He had so much power over you.

You crossed your legs, palms flat against the bench top on either side of you for support. The entire room was filled with the sweet aroma of the broth Finnick had made, causing your mouth to water from the mere thought of the warm liquid soaking into your tongue.

He lifted the pot from the stove and turned it off, scooping the contents into two bowls. However, when he turned around and walked over to you, he was only holding one.

“Just glad to be home with you,” he said and offered you the bowl.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking it into your hands.

The bowl was hot against your palms and fingertips, almost burning right down into your bloodstream as the golden liquid wafted steam into your face. Finnick’s gaze followed your movements as you lifted the spoon to your lips and finally felt the delicious heat seep into your tastebuds. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed a noise of pleasure, already craving another spoonful. “Tastes really good.” 

“Yeah?” He tilted his head.

Finnick was gently lifting one of your legs into his hands, massaging your calf through the cotton of your socks. His hand wandered down to your ankle, stroking over it with an affectionate touch before gliding back up to the underside of your knee. You had hardly noticed his affectionate behaviour, too distracted by the vibrant tastes filling your mouth. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked half-heartedly, focused on getting another mouthful in.

“Sure am,” he murmured.

Selfishly, you paid his words no mind even though you really should have. You had just lowered the spoon back into the bowl, watching the soup cover the metal when suddenly, your leg was being lifted over the other. 

Now this got your attention.

You swallowed the warm liquid, eyes looking up at him in confusion. He uncrossed your legs, nudging them open with his hands on your inner thighs before he positioned himself between them. Your thighs were now hugging either side of his hips, your grip on the bowl frozen with uncertainty. 

“What are you…?” you began, but then he was gently taking the bowl and spoon out of your hands and placing them on the bench beside you.

“Told you I’m hungry, sweetheart,” he said. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Been waiting all day to see you. And these socks…” he trailed off with a sigh, sliding his fingers just beneath the band digging softly into your thigh before letting it snap back in place. “Well, now I’m practically starving.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. God, you were already breathless. 

“Oh,” you whispered.

He bit his bottom lip and kept lowering his gaze to your mouth, looking at you as if you were a grand three-course meal and he was on death row. 

“I just need a taste,” he spoke almost pleadingly. “Will you let me?”

Not a single neuron in your brain was firing at that moment. With the way he was staring at you, how gorgeous helooked, and the fact that he was practically begging to be between your thighs, it was almost impossible to say no. It was also impossible for you to verbalise it as well.

“Please, baby. You’ll let me, won’t you?” he pleaded.

The growing desperation in his voice had you sinking your hips into the counter, feeling yourself begin to ache for him. Of course, as you did this your thighs grew expanded even wider from the pressure and Finnick seemed to like that very much. You could tell from the way his cock left a large print across the front of his pants.

You nodded, speechless.

“You will?” His hands found the sides of your thighs. “Good.” 

Within seconds, he had dragged your body to the edge and collided your pelvis with his. He felt as hard as he looked. You gasped at his eagerness but were immediately cut off by his lips crushing against your own, leading you into a kiss that mirrored the hunger he must have been feeling inside all day. 

His hand moved into your hair, holding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He was leaning into you, moving his lips so assertively that your body had to lean back to get a sliver of respite. You were buzzing with anticipation like electric currents were moving through your veins. If he was kissing you like this, what would it be like when his lips were further below?

He then pulled away to observe you. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered, gently smoothing the hair beside your face.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the brief tender moment. Your hand moved onto his and gently squeezed as you looked up at him, gaze doe-eyed and full of false naivety. You knew you were only spurring him on.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he said before pressing another peck to your lips. Then he started to go lower. First, he kissed the length of your neck and then the skin above your breasts exposed by your low-cut shirt. “Perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect thighs.”

He was crouching now, trailing kisses down your stomach which had your fingers weaving into his hair. The descension halted at your upper thighs. His lips left a warm tingling sensation that spread across your skin with each tender touch. You watched him begin moving higher, entering a dangerous region of your inner thighs with lips that were trademarked for trouble. 

The air in your lungs was in short supply now.

“Just so sweet and so…” His fingers slipped into your waistband and pulled your shorts down your legs. The fabric fell from your ankles and there you sat, your glistening cunt bare and reflecting in Finnick’s green eyes. “So wet.”

Feeling nervous due to his penetrative stare, you attempted to conceal yourself and began closing your legs. He tsked and forced them open with two sturdy hands. He continued marvelling at the slick that coated your folds, committing the image to his mind.

“So perfect,” he exhaled.

You were getting impatient now.

“Finnick,” you whined. “Please. Just… Just do some—" 

You inhaled sharply. He had rushed forward and finally connected his warm mouth to your cunt. 

High-pitched breathless moans were already spilling from your lips as his harsh tongue delved between your folds, lapping up the arousal that had leaked out. Your body was restless, which was evident from the way your fingers pulled at his hair, hips bucked into his mouth, and thighs clenched around his head. 

Hunger and starvationwere not the right terms to describe how he was acting. Not at all.

He was insatiable.

Finnick’s shoulders slid beneath your thighs, forcing your legs to dangle over them. His arms were curled around your legs while his hands kept your legs clamped open from the top of your thighs. He suctioned his lips around your clit, the sensitive flesh growing more swollen as the pressure he applied increased.

You placed a hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady, keeping the other hand buried in his golden waves. Your head fell back with a loud moan. He was shaking his head side-to-side in a manner that could only be deemed as animalistic. He was eating you out like a fucking animal. Like he was a predator, and this was his kill. 

“Oh, my god!” you cried out.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue dragging from your opening and back to your clit, savouring every ounce of sweetness he could pull from you. A dull pain was coming from your upper thighs and you quickly realised Finnick’s fingers were digging into your skin. Each time your thighs tried to shut, his fingers buried deeper into your flesh. And mixed with the feeling of his tongue lapping you up, it felt rapturously overwhelming.

His tongue began flicking your clit at such rapid speeds that you weren’t even sure a vibrator could replicate it. You were now pulling, no, yanking at his hair all the while your hips were moving closer to his face. The pleasure was so devastating even your body wasn’t sure what to do with itself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice vibrated against your clit, “y’gotta strong grip.” 

Your chest heaved as you looked down at him. “Finn, don’t stop.” 

And of course, he pulled back an inch to look up at you. The sight of him between your legs was fucking glorious. A mix of your juices and spit was dribbling down his chin, coating his lips in a shine you wanted to taste. His hair was dishevelled in a way you could only describe as a sex-crazed mess. Oh, and the way his blown-wide pupils were looking at you… like he had a whim to devour you whole right then and there.

“Stop? Who said I was ever going to stop?” He smirked.

Then he leaned in and fell back into his previous rhythm. The heels of your feet dug into his back. He was essentially making out your cunt. His tongue was swirling around your clit and kissing it sweetly, as if doing so offered you any reprieve from the exquisite torment he was inducing. Your stomach muscles were aching in the most pleasurable way, sending signals of pure arousal to your brain that made you feel intoxicated.

“Like fucking sugar,” his voice muffled into you. 

He tongued your entrance, forcing as much as he could inside you. Your walls fluttered with warmth around him and you let out a needy little whine. He flicked his tongue upwards inside you as he slid in and out, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he moaned at your taste soaking into his tastebuds.  

One of his arms unravelled from your thigh and his tongue retracted from inside you. You whimpered in displeasure, only to gasp as something longer immediately replaced his tongue. Finnick’s mouth was entirely focused on suckling your clit, meanwhile, the two fingers he had slid inside you were focused on pushing your body over the edge.

“Fuck,” you breathed heavily. “Fuck. Oh, f—ah!”

The pads of his fingertips pressed into that swollen spot deep inside you, knuckles prodding your walls as he curled his fingers. He was wildly flicking his tongue over your clit with the added help of his head shaking side-to-side.

You were writhing. Your body had never known such powerful sensations before meeting Finnick. Even after all the time you had been together, you were still trying to get accustomed to how intensely he made you feel. Given that information, you could feel your orgasm rocketing from deep within and to the surface. Flames licked at the muscles in your stomach, spreading like wildfire from your clit.

Finnick looked up at you, and you looked down at him. Look how good I make you feel, his cocky eyes spoke. Your parted lips were dark, flushed with heat and arousal, letting each and every debauched sound echo around the ceramic-tiled room. He plunged his fingers inside you again and your head fell back. You knew he was laughing. You could feel it.

The noises filling the room were pure sex. The sound of Finnick’s fingers squelching inside you, of him sucking and lapping at your pussy, and your whiny half-crazed moans—they were all that could be heard. And then suddenly your body started tensing.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Finn, I’m—I’m—Fuck!”

And there it was.

Finnick didn’t stop. Hell, he somehow even managed to pick up his pace.

Your thighs clamped harshly around his head; this would’ve worried you if your brain actually had a single thought running through it. Shockwaves of bliss crashed over your body; they consumed you. Your moans came out as choked noises and filthy gratified cries of Finnick’s name as he sucked and curled his fingers in and out. 

You felt him speaking, most likely words of praise to talk you through your high, but you couldn’t hear. White noise buzzed in your ears. Part of you could feel him collecting your juices with his tongue as the built-up tension gushed from your cunt. The other part of you was gone.

At least for a brief period.

When you came back to reality, Finnick was starting to stand back up. His hands were holding both your thighs, keeping them from violently trembling. You stared at him, waiting for the spots in your vision to disappear and the buzzing in your ears to settle. There was nothing you could do about the liquid seeping onto the bench top.

He surveyed your dazed expression, mild concern etched into his features as his eyes flickered between your own. His hand gently cupped the side of your face. 

“You here?” he asked, lightly dragging his thumb down your lower lip.

Sweetness coated the tip of your tongue as you licked your bottom lip. Well, no wonder he enjoyed doing that so much. You tasted really… good.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

He gave you this beautiful dimpled smile, and he dropped his hand once more. His eyes were on yours, gleaming with mischief as he dragged two fingers up your folds, glazing them in a white shine. You were so sensitive that your hips jerked forward at the light contact, causing him to chuckle softly.

You watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and within milliseconds, you were reaching out to stop him.

His fingers were so thick and long, and with your arousal coating them, it was damn near impossible to deny yourself the pleasure of having a little taste as well. So, with two hands holding his palm, you guided his fingers towards you. 

You eyed the liquid for a moment, hesitated, and then licked a long strip from the base of his forefinger and up to his fingertip. Then, closing your eyes, you wrapped your lips around the length and began sucking. It was a potent taste, both overpowering and lingering. Not bad though. You moved onto his middle finger, this time keeping your eyes on Finnick as you sucked it clean.

His expression reflected something of astonishment, letting out a perplexed chuckle as he watched. With a wet pop, his fingers were out of your mouth. You were holding his large palm and pressing a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, a tender and affectionate gesture compared to the act you just pulled.

Finnick shook his head at you, wearing a disbelieving smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

“What,” he echoed your response under his breath. He grabbed your chin, leaning down until you were face-to-face. “You play a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

Then his lips were on yours and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, all that could be tasted was you. That previous animalistic air about him had dissipated; he was gentler now, kissing you in a way that was adoring rather than bordering primal. Not that you had been complaining.

His pelvis was pressed against yours. More accurately, his cock was pressed against your pelvis. Whoever made his pants must have used strong threading. He was so hard that you were surprised the seams hadn’t ripped apart and exposed him altogether. You were surprised but also thankful because undoing his pants was your job. 

Your hands moved to his chest and pushed him backwards. His lips left yours with a displeased grunt. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Finn,” you said, your hands trickling down his torso. “I’ve worked up an appetite myself as well.”

He looked down at you, eyes oozing with seduction. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

You slid off the counter, feeling his erection glide over your body. The fragrant smell of marinated vegetables and chicken still lingered in the room. You should have felt disheartened about not finishing the mouth-watering soup Finnick had made—or perhaps even the entire pot. But as you sank to your knees and began unbuttoning his pants, you realised there was one thing that was a great deal more appetising. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw him looking down at you with a lazy smirk. 

Your lips stretched into a sinful smile. “My turn.”

[basilpaste]

i had a whole big idea for this, but im afraid im not terribly good at comics! or drawing fast!!! but its isas birthday!!! happy birthday!!

(the gifts are under the cut! written out!)

"Thank you! But, oh Change, you really didn't have to get little ol' me anything, ehe!"

"Nonsense, Isabeau." Odile huffs fondly. "You're part of our little team, after all. Did you think we'd forget?"

Maybe a little? You don't even entirely remember telling them about your birthday! From the look on Mira's face, though, you must have told her. It seems like she orchestrated the whole thing.

She claps her hands together cheerfully, "So! Who wants to go first!"

Bonnie waves their hands wildly, hopping up and down. "Oh!! Oh me! I want to give Za my gift!!!"

Heh! It doesn't seem like anyone's willing to fight them on it. After a moment of silence, they cheer, rushing off to heft up a small gift bag. They hurtle back towards you and present the bag dramatically.

You gingerly take the bag from them and pull it open. Inside is a-

"WAUGH?" You yelp, dropping it!

The bag falls on its side, sending the contents tumbling out. A spider?! A spider!

A... spider-shaped pin cushion.

Oh.

Bonnie lets out a long hard laugh, pointing at you, "Hahah!!! You thought it was a real spider!! Spiders don't get that big, dummy!"

"You'd be surprised," Sif speaks up, batting their lashes oh-so innocently.

You shiver. Bonnie also shivers.

"Thank you Bonbon for the pin cushion." You say, grabbing it off the ground.

... Stabbing a spider-shaped thing might feel kinda nice, actually. It was obviously a prank gift, but you'll still get plenty of use out of it!

Bonnie grins at you brightly.

Odile steps up next, bowing her head to you. She passes you a neatly wrapped box. You carefully remove the paper (its pretty!) and unfold the box.

Oh! A book!

Colour Me Curious: A History Of Colour Theory.

"Back in Dormont's House," she glances back at Sif when she says the word Dormont, you pretend you don't see, "you mentioned having an interest in colour theory. A librarian a few towns back recommended this to me. I figured you might enjoy it."

You nod rapidly. Oh!! You're surprised you haven't looked into it yet! You're not sure how you forgot! Especially considering the weird shade - colour - you all have seen! With your eyes!

"Thank you, m'dame!!" You say, trying to be mindful of your volume.

She smiles, "Of course. I'd like to hear what you take from it."

"Of course!!"

"Okay! Okay, um... me next!" Mira pulls two boxes from her dress pocket (?????) and holds them anxiously, "I shouldn't have gotten two! I don't want to overshadow anyone else! But! I think you'd like these both! So! So. I got them both! Happy birthday, Isabeau!!"

You scoop them from her arms, "I don't think anyone is worried about you overshadowing them, Mira!"

The rest of your friends hum in agreement.

"Okay."

A beat.

"Start with the smaller one!"

The smaller one turns out to be a light novel of some sort. Oh! She's talked about this one before!! How she thought you'd like it because it's super cute! You thank her and place it softly on top of Odile's gift before turning your attention to the larger box.

This is...

"Oh?" You squeak, feeling a little choked up.

"Oh?" Mira echoes, "Oh no! Do you- do you not like it?"

You grab the gift from its box, running your hand along the grain. Oh no! You might cry! Oh Change!

"Mira!! Mira this is so expensive? This is so much?" You feel unworthy to even hold it.

This is like... three meters of silk?? It's dyed such a rich lightless shade? That's unbelievably expensive!! It's beautiful and so well made that you're not sure what to do with yourself. Oh crab.

"It wasn't so bad, really!!" She yelps, worry clouding her expression.

You very softly (very, very carefully) tuck the silk back into its gift box. Then you throw yourself at Mira, sweeping her up into a tight hug. She cries out, clinging to you. And then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you thank you thank you???"

"Waaa!!" She laughs, "I'm glad you like it!!!"

"I know I know lightless isn't really your shade but you HAVE to let me make you a bow with this, Mira!!"

"Ah!! If you want to!!"

"I Do!!"

"Okay!"

You pull away from the hug, glancing back at the silk. You feel your chest swell with joy!! Oh Change!! This is so much stuff! And you're still not done!

Sif looks... a little bit nervous. They shift the box they're holding in their hands and shuffle up to you. After a moment of hesitation, he holds it out.

"... Happy birthday, Isa."

You take the box with care. It's small, but heavier than you're expecting. There's a bow on top that Bonbon snatches after you take it off. All of these gifts have been a surprise! But you're really not sure what Sif got you!

You open the box.

A piece of lightless fabric sits under the lid. It's embroidered! Not perfect or flawless, but done with care. Darkless spots are scattered on its surface and in big capital letters, it reads "You're A Star!"

Oh!! You get this joke, now! It used to only make sense to Sif but you know now!! Your chest feels light. You laugh.

"There's more." They say quietly.

You nod, gingerly removing the embroidery and setting it to the side. It reveals... a wood carving!! You pull the carving from the box, turning it over in your hands. This is you!!! It's a carving of you!!

How did you not notice him working on it??

"Sif!!" You gasp, "Sif it's perfect!!!"

"O-Oh?"

"This is beautiful!!! You made this? And the patch??"

He looks away, hiding his face in his cloak, "Um... yeah."

"I love them!" You grin so wide it hurts your face, "I love you! All of you!! This is all so... ah!! I need to start thinking about gifts for your birthdays, now!!"

"How about we finish celebrating yours first?" M'dame hums.

You feel light as a feather. You love your friends - your family - more than you can say.

[iamadequate1717]

Stede's Strange Day

I want to talk about Stede Bonnet's very strange day. Let's look at the progression of just what Stede sees.

He spends the night with his boyfriend for the first time, and his boyfriend brings him breakfast in bed like Doug did for Mary. They talk about their reunion. Stede is very happy right now!

His boyfriend tells him that he envisioned him as a beautiful merperson and that he thinks he saved his life.

They get dressed, and they go out on a breakfast date on the town. Stede tells Ed about the letters he wrote, and Ed loved that!

Stede then discovers he has a fanclub! Ed laughs and is happy for him! They're going to go down to Jackie's so Stede can enjoy this some more!

Ed throws in some light banter/teasing about this turn of events, and Stede literally squeals before they run off giggling together.

They get to Jackie's, and Ed continues to encourage Stede!

Ed leaves him to it! "Enjoy the night" are his parting words.

So Stede enjoys the night!

He's being accepted! And he still talks about his boyfriend while being fawned over!

Everyone tells him he's awesome! He offs an assassin while saying something cool! No one is making fun of him!

After a bit, he goes to find Ed to share in his fun! He's had a great day.

Only, he's immediately met with this with no context: Ed regrets being with him! Ed is leaving immediately!

Remember: Ed's last words to him were "Enjoy the night!" This is complete emotional whiplash. Stede knows right away what the problem is, but Ed shuts it down.

Ed wants to be a fisherman! A proclamation completely out of the blue! Stede tries to talk him down. That fish wasn't so awesome that it should completely change Ed's life trajectory, casting Stede out of the way.

Ed disagrees and abandons Stede with no real explanation or listening to what Stede was trying to say, which isn't a great move for a healthy relationship.

Basically, Stede spent a few hours (only a few hours!) enjoying himself (in a manner that Ed encouraged him to!). He did nothing awful (because murder is cool in this show), and was a lot tamer than what Ed and company were doing in 1x8 (turtle vs crab is mean!).

I'm going to go more into Stede defense in another post. "Last night was a mistake" is an egregious phrasing to use with the man you love who has self esteem and trauma issues (we know what he means but it can be interpreted much worse), but Stede took it in stride. But for some reason people act like Stede committed war crimes with the fish comment? Ed sharing his day and Ed excising himself from Stede's life are different contexts and the fish is viewed differently in each lens. It was an OK fish, and Stede did nothing wrong. Stede is right that Ed is a coward, and I don't think Stede saying a few slightly harsh things in the heat of the moment when being blindsided like this is a character flaw.

Ed behaved appallingly in shutting down the conversation and refusing to even give context to what was going on. With 1x9&10 and Stede deciding Ed was better off without him, I saw plenty of comments about how Stede couldn't make a major life decision for Ed like that. With this, Ed has made a major life decision for Stede (I'm going to dump him and remove myself before he can choose piracy over me!), but I have yet to see the same comments, and I know exactly why that is.

...

More Stede defense!:

[a-twistedheartslonging]

*cough cough* so uh.... nonhuman jade??? I feel like he would frog blink at me

Either that or not blink at all/hardly blink, most fish don't have eyelids, and even though he and the other mers do it's not like they would need to underwater. Tbh Seb and Mal would prob do that weird blink.

Anyway, since He and Floyd are the same kind of creature, stuff from Floyd's post will be repeated.

He still has his ear and arm fins even with the potion. He can make his ear fins wiggle and droop and they will sometimes do it unconsciously, perhaps because of how he’s feeling or if he’s eating or sucking on something. Unlike Floyd, Jade will do his best to control it since that shows his emotions and he doesn't want others to be able to read him, though that's not to say he won’t do it on purpose like when he fake cries. The whole “being able to produce tears” thing wasn't something he could do until he got on land. Fish don't have or need tear ducts. Still, if it's just the two of you he might give a fin wiggle to hear you giggle, he be silly like that sometimes,

He can make the arm fins flare out and go down so he can get shirts on easier, and they will flare out when trying to be threatening.

Still keeps some of his eel coloring and stripes along with his claws. His hands start with that not-quite-white he has and become more of that green-blue going up.

His fingers have little bits of webbing and...are kind of creepily long. 

Doesn’t blink as often as a human should and his eyes glow in the dark, along with his habit of staring it can be a bit startling. 

Like his brother, is very instant on getting you in the water with him for some reason. If you can't swim, he'll offer to let you ride him. Though he is capable of outspending a broom you don't worry about him trying to zoom like Floyd, that doesn't mean he won't try to scare you in the water though. He may be more polite than his brother but he's still a little shit.

Has no belly button or nips.

Has a very strong interest in your feet and legs, especially with how…soft they are. In the official manga, we get to see that Floyd isn't the only touchy eel, though he isn't…rough about it like Floyd. Well, not as long as it's you. He loves to poke, squeeze, and rub them. Very very badly wants to bite but…he’s a gentleman. At least until you guys are together, and he has permission, expect to look like you got nabbed by a small shark then after.

He can't help but be fascinated by how different your body is, he really does want to study you, though funnily enough he gets a bit of stage fright if you try doing the same.

Is a fan of those small clawless hands. Seeing how they prune up when wet for too long, holding them and enjoying that soft warmth. He’s bigger than plenty of people but gets a special kick out of how big you make him feel.

His skin feels different from what humans have but isn't quite the same as when in his eel form. It's soft but also…thick. There’s no way you would be able to break his skin with your bite or scratches, dull little human nails and teeth can't do much. He would be pretty amused at you actually trying to bite him, how cute. It makes him want to tease you more and make you make you angry enough to try more. Still, if you do somehow manage to break skin he’s prepared, can’t have his little shrimp die of poisoning.

Along with eating fish, crabs, and octopus's moray also eat very toxic creatures and as a result, the blood and flesh of a moray are very toxic. They accumulate high levels of ciguatoxins, which can give humans ciguatera fish poisoning (CFP) if eaten. There will be times in a fight where he’ll get his blood on the guy on purpose and Jade has used his blood for…things before. Part of why Jade wants to test “special” mushrooms on others is because the poison won't affect him, and he wants to see how it affects others. Might poison you in small doses on purpose so you'll build up a tolerance.

A moray will often eat anything small enough to fit in its mouth and is capable of taking a chunk out of bigger fish. As a result, Floyd will also try to eat…not food things if he can fit it in his mouth. Luckily for you, Jade has more self-control than his brother so your small nicknacks are safe...for now.

Everything about you just triggers his prey drive. He really wants to bite you, chase you, squish you, put eggs in you, bite you some more. Really hates having to keep up his calm gentlemanly image at times.

Can open his mouth scarily wide and his teeth are longer than OG Jade's, so it's a bit harder for him to hide them like he would with those polite smiles he always has. Very long tongue, you've seen it when he totally wasn't trying to show it off to you. He was just enjoying that ice cream. Funny how you're the only one to get a good look at it though.

Has pharyngeal jaws which are a second set of smaller jaws located in the throat of the moray eel, behind the normal jaws in the mouth, complete with tiny teeth. This set of jaws gets launched into the mouth cavity during feeding, where it can grasp onto food, and pull it into the throat to swallow. Morays are unique in using their pharyngeal jaws to actively capture and restrain prey in this way.

Certain eels have been shown to be surprisingly affectionate with divers they recognize and enjoy petting, rubbing, and gentle hugs. Though a bit touchy, when in public he is nowhere near as touchy as Floyd. When alone? Just as bad if he knows you are comfortable with it.

His gills are still present so his rib area is a weak spot. Getting hit there would really hurt and really piss him off.

Is nocturnal and prefers dark places, especially when sleeping. He also likes being snug and wrapped up for sleepies. In the sea, he would like to sleep in small places with his brother and would love for you and him to share a sleeping bag when camping.

Moray have a spongy, sluggy texture from their lack of scales. To top it off, these fish are covered in a thick mucous layer. Believe it or not, mucous serves a very strong purpose in nature, typically providing a protective barrier over otherwise vulnerable layers of skin. Your stomach should have a thick mucous layer to protect it from the acids inside, and similarly, a fish without scales can make good use of this snotty, slimy substance to keep it safe from toxins and physical damage as it occupies its rocky habitat.

The green moray eel is actually brown under all the snot; it’s just covered in a thick green layer of mucous. In some species, this mucous is even toxic, making them a particularly nasty prey item. Luckily what Floyd and Jade have isn't the toxic kind and will make your skin pretty nice. Jade will use this in his favor to get more cuddles. Careful though, he may do what Floyd does and perform what is known as a slime attack by slapping someone in the face with his tail, it is very unpleasant to get in your mouth.

The smallest moray, the Snyder’s moray, is around 12cm (4.5in) long, and the largest is more than 3m (over 10ft) long and weighs up to 30kg. A huge moray eel in Indonesia has been witnessed feeding on sharks and I like to headcanon the tweels are pretty big in their mer form and not just because of tail length.

Morays actually have pretty bad eyesight and a keen sense of smell to make up for this and rely primarily on chemoreception such as smells and tastes to navigate their world. I do wonder if the twins need glasses but don't use them or maybe wear contacts. 

Jade is very good at tracking you down by scent and likes it when you smell like him and him smelling like you. Though he loves cuddling and hugging you, it isn't just for affection. He’s giving you that eel stank, plenty of the others are weary around him and you smelling like him can help keep others away.

Unlike with Floyd Him leaving clothes at your place is never out of forgetfulness. He plans everything out. Insistes that you put on his coat when it’s cold out and drapes it on you before you can say no. Hoodies aren't usually his thing, but his ass bought some just for  “forgetting” them at your place. They're actually some fancy name-brand ones. Still, even with his planning, he could not prepare himself with how good you looked in them…it was so big on you, and you looked so cute and now it smelled like you and….

The moray can form a true knot with its body, that it uses as leverage to pull on prey items like slippery fish. They can also use this method to create strong pressure to break food items into smaller pieces. It’s thought that the skill is passed on between individuals. So, if you want to escape eel cuddles…good luck but it's probably not going to happen. Even in his more human form his long arms and legs will be wrapped around you. Kinda funny thinking of the tweel's parents teaching them how to become living knots though.

Certain types of eels can change their sex. The leaf-nosed moray born male, transitions as they age, switching to female later in life. This transformation determines them as “sequential hermaphrodites” I like to headcanon that the tweens can also change sex or already have both in their mer form. 

Morays can have around 10,000 eggs at a time, and when the larvae are hatched, the eels are fully translucent. I like to think the boys started out as tiny little things you can hold in your hand.

Regular eels do seem to have some courtship rituals. Some of which being displays of behavior, such as graceful movements and vibrant color changes and I already like that headcanon of the tweels being bioluminescent. Maybe he convinced you to come down to his dorm's special pool one night and decided to show off for you. Showing off that beautiful glow while doing these cool tricks in the water. A positive reaction will likely be taken as acceptance, so unless you tell him no, you will receive some wet slimy eel-loving.

Male eels may compete with each other for the attention of females showcasing strength and health to impress a potential mate. Welp, time for Jade to invite you to a hike and show off, expect to be carried after he makes up after walking into an area, something about the grounds stability and how only a seasoned hiker like him knows the proper steps to safety. Dude will lift up a whole ass dead tree trunk stuck in your path. Will also be even more of a menace towards the other guys.

Eels also release pheromones into the water to attract and communicate with potential partners but...hmm you're just a human and on land. With the others being beasts and all, they would be able to smell it easily and know to stay the hell away from him but would his little shrimpy notice? I think at most that if it's something that you can smell it probably just seems like Jade has just smelled a bit…musky lately. He is probably around you even more and keeps close to see your reaction to it. He probably gets sad if you tell him he stinky and takes it as you not wanting him. If you compliment it? Very happy eel time.

As for the rest of what he does, it's little things like bringing you food which is often cooked by him, little trinkets that made him think of you, and getting territorial around others. The latter usually ends up with him not bothering to hide his teeth as he “smiles” at whoever is talking to you, likely having his hand on your shoulder or waist while doing so.

[doberbutts]

I remember reading a post that men are the oppressor class so why would they bother to dismantle systemic patriarchy when they actively benefit from its existence? And as I read it, I thought, Damn, so an entire half of the population can never conceivably help us, and the people who love men in their lives are doomed. It wasn't a helpful post. It basically felt, here's some actual material analysis on feminism and said, That trying to educate and make men be part of feminism is fundamentally a flawed effort, because again, they are the oppressor class, why should they care about uplifting the oppressed?

And it made me think about this very good pamphlet I read, explaining how the white worker remained complacent for so long because at least they weren't a Black slave. And that the author theorized the reason labor movements never truly created exceptional, radical change is because of internal racism (which I find true) and failure to uplift black people. And the author listed common outlooks/approaches to this problem, and one of them was: "We should ignore the white folks entirely and hold solidarity with only other POC, and the countries in the Global South. Who needs those wishy-washy white fragile leftists who don't care about what we think or want?" (roughly paraphrased.)

And the author said, This sounds like the most leftist and radical position, but it's totally flawed because it absolves us of our responsibility to dismantle white supremacy for the sake of our fellow marginalized people, and we are basically ignoring the problem. And that blew me away because this is a position so many activists have, to just ignore the white folks and focus entirely on our own movements. I wish I knew the name of the actual pamphlet, so I could quote entire passages at you.

But I feel this is the same for men. Obviously, we should prioritize and have women-led and women-focused feminism. But saying that men are an oppressor class so they can't reliably be counted upon in feminist activism--it's such a huge oversimplification. And mainly, I'm a Muslim, and I've been treated with plenty of misogyny from Muslim men. And also plenty of misogyny from Muslim women. And I love my male friends, I want men to be part of the movement, and I dunno. Thinking about communities, movements, and the various ways we fail each other and what it means to be truly intersectional keeps me up at night.

I don't know the pamphlet you're talking about but I've read and been taught similar. There's a reason much of my anti-racism is so feminist and most of my feminism is anti-racist. Many people coming at this problem from a truly intersectional angle have seen that there is no freedom to be had without joining hands across the community. Not picking and choosing our allies based off of identity but off of behavior.

As used in a previous example, a white abled moderately wealthy man saying "wow Healthcare sucks in this country, why does this system suck so bad" should be told "hey, this system sucks so bad because it's built off of sexism, racism, classism, and ableism. You want to improve the system? Fix those things and it will be much better in the long run" and not "shut up you're a man. Healthcare is always going to be better for you". The second response doesn't fix that Healthcare is still a problem even if you are at the "top" of the privilege ladder. If we want true change, we have to dismantle the entire system at it's core and build it up without the yuck, otherwise you're gunna get to the top and realize this place sucks too.

Something something if the crabs worked together to hold each other up, they could all get out of the bucket and be free.

[molags-balls]

One thing that bothers me about the Elder Scrolls community on Tumblr is their tendency to want to get rid of all the evil lore and characters in the game.

There’s plenty of evil lore like Aylied and Dunmer slavery, the creation of vampires, Pelinal’s genocide, racism against refugees, etc. Plus characters like Arondil, Naris, and Harkon.

The immediate response of a lot of TES fans on Tumblr is that this lore is bad and should be retconned or that the developers are bad for including it.

But if you remove all traces of evil and cruelty from the games, then who is left for a good character to kill and hate? The game would become a psychopath simulator where the only people left to kill are all innocent.

We need evil characters so that wet have people who are satisfying to fight and kill. Without evil characters, good characters would be destined to fight wolves and crabs forever.

We need more evil characters- not less! The more evil characters there are in the game = the more moral the player can be and the more justified our kills are.

[beachylupin]

Gotta Go Home || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

this is based on the anon request fulfilled here! (its a moodboard too!! :-D) i really hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to see more of her!! feedback and comments are always appreciated <3 word count: 3.6k warnings: angsty!!!, lots of swearing, mentions of hazing, mentions of underage drug and alcohol use, quickly edited, reader is kinda mean (lol), talking about someone having crabs

“Puh-leasee,” Robin gushed, pulling on your arm as you dragged on down the hallway. “Everyone will be there, and I don’t want to look like a total dweeb being the only one by myself. You know what happened at the last back to school party that you didn’t show up to, right? Or should I remind-”

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled. Tammy hazed Robin in front of a crowd of twenty people, calling her the world’s biggest butch. To counter that statement, Robin made out with Zack Stone, her stand mate. Not her finest moment, and it was all your fault that you weren’t there. You fully and completely accepted the blame.

It was your responsibility to protect her, and you let her down, but now that Tammy had moved to Nashville to start her Ms. Piggy impersonator career, you almost felt like Robin would be safe going alone.

“Please-”

“Define everyone?” You asked, your nose scrunched. “Where is it?”

“Jason-”

“Carver’s?” You guffawed. “Are you high?!”

“No, but we could be tonight,” she gushed quietly, a smile growing on her face as she watched you roll your eyes as you opened your locker. You wiped a small smile off your face with your hand and began digging in your locker. She drove a hard bargain

“Come on! It’s the back to school party, dingus. I’m telling you everyone-”

Your eyes narrowed as her rings clanked against the locker door, opening it enough to peek around at you. Her cheeks were flushed as she glanced behind you. You knew what she was getting at: the real reason she wanted to go, and it had to do with the ginger girl that walked quickly past the two of you.

“Vickie going to be there?” You asked, and she dropped the door.

Robin crossed her arms defensively, avoiding eye contact. “Psh, no-”

“Oh,” you cooed, a faux-disappointed pout forming on your lips. “I’m only going if Vickie is going.” You grabbed your books, closing your locker as you faced Robin again. “Guess I’m not so I can’t give you a ride,” you shrugged. “Sorry.” And you turned to leave.

“You’re a stain,” she groaned, grabbing your shoulder. “I’ll get on my knees-” Robing started sinking, her hands pressed together. “Pleeeeease,” she groaned. “Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Christ, you’re dramatic,” you huffed, restraining yourself from pushing her over in her half crouched position. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

“I owe you my first born,” she gushed, throwing her arms around you. “I love you, I love you, I love-”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, hugging her back. “We have to get to class-”

“Fine,” Robin let go, half pushing you away from her. She turned to leave, then turned around with a quirked brow. “Nine?”

“Yes,” you sighed, clutching your books to your chest. “Now go before you’re late to chemistry again.”

“Oh,” Robin said, her hand on her chest. “Kaminsky loves me.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you separated, getting to your class before the bell rang.

You groaned to yourself, not realizing that you didn’t take into an account how mini the skirt actually was. You tugged it down, making it reach at least your mid thigh over your sheer black tights. You had on a black button up top with a jean bomber over top, considering the chilly autumn weather and how your skirt was going to do nothing for you.

Your hair was styled like Brooke Shield’s: softly curled with plenty of volume. Your makeup was like hers too: mainly natural with glossy lips. 

As much as you hated parties, you loved dressing up, but dressing up usually meant going to a party.

And so it goes.

You didn’t necessarily hate parties, but you definitely didn’t enjoy them. It was always the same ten people doing the same stupid shit and playing the same stupid games, or at least that was at the parties Robin always begged you to go to since the hazing. Plus, the parties that Robin invited you to usually included Steve Harrington, who you made out with at a party last winter.

Long story short: he was a senior and had just broken up with Wheeler. You were a junior and knew that you were a very obvious rebound, but frankly didn’t care. It was exhilarating.

Who knew a dark closet would be the perfect place to have one of the best makeout sessions of your life?

It could’ve easily been a new thing, but as addicting as it was, every time you saw him now, it was weird. It really shouldn’t have been, but you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or avoid him at all costs once you saw a different parasitic girl attached to his neck at every party he was at after the incident. Catching the love bug sucked.

The two of you would always catch eyes though, exchanging an awkward, tight-lipped smile at every fleeting glance. You found yourself hopelessly waiting for that moment every time.

Side-tracked by the fact that you didn't want to go, you were running late, and it took at least fifteen minutes to get to Robin’s. You grabbed your keys and bounded out the door, slipping loafers on your feet before they hit the sidewalk.

Robin had been drinking. You could tell by the way she looked around at the dark, empty yards before clambering into your car.

You turned the radio down, giggling. “Worried Cooper is going to see you stumble?” You nodded toward the chained up dog on her neighbor’s lawn.

“Shut up,” she hissed, her sour breath wafting to your face. You pretended to choke, waving your hand in front of your nose. “Oh my God. Shut. Up!” She groaned, digging in her bag for what you assumed to be a piece of gum.

“You smell like a distillery,” you scoffed, pulling out of her driveway.

“You sound like a bitch,” she huffed back, chomping on the gum she found at the bottom of her bag, throwing the wrapper on the floor of your car. “I was nervous, okay? Vickie won’t notice, will she?”

“You gonna get that close for her to notice?” You retorted, already knowing the answer, and mouthing “I don’t knoow,” over Robin’s sing-songy confession.

“Are you going to finally talk to Steve?” She countered, her eyes narrowed. 

“He’s going to be there?!” You asked, your voice sounding more desperate than you hoped. 

“I told you, you snot. Everyone is going to be there.” When you didn’t answer her, your face turning sullen, she said, “He thinks you’re pretty, you know.”

“He thinks anything with a pair of boobies is pretty,” you huffed, turning on the main road through Hawkins.

“Ugh! I hate that word,” Robin grumbled, pretending to gag.

You decided to poke the bear, grinning. “What? Boobies?” She groaned loudly in response, stomping her feet. “I don’t know if you know this, Rob, but you like boobies.”

“Stoooop-“

“I’ll just start saying titties then,” you said, shrugging as you turned down Jason’s road. “He thinks anything with titties is pretty.”

“God, that’s somehow worse,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. Her head snapped to you. “But that’s not true. Steve’s… he’s changed.”

“Changed how?” You asked, glancing at her. “Changed by fucking more girls than just Nance? He became a womanizer, Robin.”

Robin shot you a pained look. “I’m not saying you’re wrong-”

“So you agree,” you said, cutting her off. You sighed, parking along the street a block down from Jason’s house. You looked at her as she fixed her face in the mirror. “Look, I know Harrington’s your friend or whatever, and I know that you love the idea of us together, but-”

“But it would be so cute!” Robin turned to you, grabbing your shoulders. “What are you so afraid of? Is it rejection? Because he definitely won’t reject you in a skirt that short.”

She looked so hopeful that you’d just say fine and get on with it, but instead you sighed, “Do you want my honest answer?”

Her hopeful look dropped out of her eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to contract-”

“Oh my God!” she groaned, her head hitting her headrest. “You’re not going to contract anything if you just talk.”

You huffed, getting out of the car. Robin followed you, slamming the door behind her before half-running to catch up to you.

“Are you jealous?” She asked, hooking her arm around yours.

You guffawed, buying yourself time to formulate a lie. “Jealous?” You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Linda Swanson had the worst case of crabs this side of the Mississippi, and she latched onto him at graduation like she was feeding off of him, and you’re asking me if I’m jealous?”

That part wasn’t a lie. Linda Swanson actually had crabs, and you only knew because she was in your gym class your junior year. You swore to God her empty panties had a heart beat.

“She had crabs?” Robin asked, laughing as you nodded, disgusted. “Steve never mentioned catching crabs from her.”

“Why would he tell you if he caught crabs, Robin?” You asked, mentally cursing as soon as you saw how full Jason’s front lawn was.

“Because he tells me everything,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the yard. “Oh, look! There he is! We can ask him!”

“Robin-” You warned, but she ignored you.

“Steve?!” Robin shouted, gaining his attention and waving her arm above her head. “Steve Harrington, is that you?!”

It was him alright. Steve was standing in a group of other alumni talking wildly with his hands, a gold watch on his wrist. He glanced at the both of you, not needing to squint with the help of the wire-rimmed glasses resting on his nose. He smiled widely, patting a few of the boys on the arms as a goodbye as Robin began to cross the lawn.

“I’m going to fucking kill-” About fifteen people looked your direction as Robin yanked you toward him, the grip on your arm becoming intentional.

“Hello, ladies,” he said, meeting you halfway, alone, with a beer in his hand and an award-winning smile on his face. “I didn’t think you guys would be here.”

“Okay, you’re the one at a high school party, Mr. Graduated,” Robin scoffed. “What’s with the glasses? Makes you look… pretentious,” she said with an accent, her nose wrinkling.

“I need them,” he said, taking them off. “I like seeing sometimes.” He stuck them in his pocket, glancing at you. “How are you?” He asked you. Specifically you “I haven’t seen you in awhile!”

You could feel yourself clamming up. You puffed out a nervous breath, shrugging. “I’ve been busy.” You glanced at Robin for help, but you could already see the word vomit rising in her throat.

“Hey, quick question, do you have crabs?” There it was.

“Robin!!” You gasped, acting shocked. “What the fuck-”

“No!” Steve looked beside himself, his eyebrows pulling together to form a deep crinkle in his forehead. “Who told you that I have-”

You floundered, watching Robin’s brain load another response. “Have you seen Vickie- Ow!” Robin had slapped your arm, scowling. “What?! It’s only Steve.” You crossed your arms.

“Not everybody needs to know who I’m looking for, shithead,” she hissed, grabbing Steve’s beer from his hand. “Apparently, Linda had crabs,” she said, finishing the rest of his beer before stalking off, wandering up to her clan of band nerds.

“I never hooked up with Linda,” he stated, looking at you. “Are you guys high?”

“I wish,” you sighed. “Robin’s drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said quietly, watching her talk to some of the other band kids. “Should we get high?”

You shrugged, happy the original topic was abandoned. “Yeah, probably.” You also were happy that he was alone. This could finally be your chance. “I have some,” you offered him the joint that you were anxiously playing with in your pocket.

Steve half smiled, putting it in his pocket. “Come on,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. “I know just the place.”

You followed him, weaving your way through the small crowd as he greeted nearly everyone he passed by either saying, “Hey, man! What’s up, buddy?” Or slightly waving, a high five usually being exchanged. He greeted a few girls with a chaste kiss on the cheek, glancing behind him after every one to make sure you were still following.

You smiled tightly at each one, your hands staying balled in your pockets. You were following Steve inside like a lost puppy until you perked up when your favorite clarinet player was bopping toward you with the others in her band row.

“Oh, Vickie! Hey!” You said, beaming toward the ginger. She paused, the rest of her friends walking toward where your favorite trumpeter stood in the front yard, drunkenly hanging on Zack’s shoulder. “Robin is looking for you! She actually came specifically to see you!”

Steve slowed and looked around, seeing that you weren’t following him anymore. He joined your side, greeting Vickie with a smile.

“Buckley?” She asked. You nodded enthusiastically, eyebrows raised. “Oh, really?” Her cheeks turned slightly red, her hands instinctively fixing her hair.

“Yeah, she’s in the front!” You said, patting her back as she huffed out a small, “Okay!” And took off toward her friends.

Steve scoffed from beside you. “Rob’s gonna kill you.”

“Yeah, well, karma’s a bitch,” you said, shrugging, walking further into the house. Steve followed you closely. “She wanted to talk to Vickie anyway,” you said over your shoulder.

“What’s karma got to do with this?” Steve asked, eyebrows furrowed as you shot him a look over your shoulder. “Robin made you talk to me, didn’t she?” He asked, and you gave him no reply, weaving your way through people. He grabbed your elbow, pulling you into a half-empty hallway. “What’s your deal? Are you mad at me or something?”

“Nothing is my deal, okay?” You shot back, trying to make your lie not obvious. “Let's just go smoke. It's bad enough being here, and I’m currently doing it sober.”

Steve furrowed his brow at you before saying, “Yeah, okay.” He let go of your elbow, walking away from you back into the crowd, his destination almost in sight.

You followed, desperately ignoring the way that girls threw themselves at him. You shouldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t yours.

But you could feel yourself turning green the further he walked into the small sea of people, every girl waving or giggling as he passed.

Was Steve really that oblivious to how much you liked him, or did he like being chased?

Going out through the back patio door, Steve checked over his shoulder to see if you were still there. You were, and still were, glaring at Tammy Thompson as she was weaving her way toward Steve where he had stopped halfway through the crowd.

“Oh my god, Steven!” She said, speaking with a fake Tennessee accent. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

She rushed to give him a hug, and you grit your teeth, watching as she kissed him full on the mouth.

“How’s Tennessee?” He asked as she threw her arms around him, connecting eyes with you.

“It’s soo good, Steve,” she gushed, completely ignoring you. “You should come visit me. We’d have soo much fun.”

“Yeah, maybe!” He said as he grabbed her arms, gently pushing her off of him. He looked at you, his mouth in a tight lipped smile as he slapped your shoulder, his hand resting there. “Well, we should be off, shouldn’t we?”

You shrugged as Tammy looked between the two of you. “Yea-”

“Oh my god, are y’all together?” Tammy didn’t hide the disgust from her face.

“No,” Steve said quickly. Your heart dropped at his honesty.“No, we’re just… smoking. She came with Robin. She’s up front.”

“Riight,” Tammy said, looking you up and down. “Well, have fun, you two,” she smized, smiling a small, bitchy smile.

“Yeah, we will, thanks,” Steve said, watching her as she walked away, catching the clenched-jaw glare you had as she walked away. “There it is!” He exclaimed, pointing at you.

“There what is?” Your tone sounded snappier than you intended.

“There’s something wrong-” Steve chided, his eyebrows raised.

“Nothing is wrong,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

You could feel yourself turning childish, the green-eyed monster baring its ugly teeth.

Steve gasped, taking a step toward you. “Are you the one who told Robin that Linda had crabs?” He asked, his face angling toward you.

You scowled. “She did have crabs.” 

He gasped again, smirking, silently confirming that he liked a chase and you were falling for it. “You’re totally jealous, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “No, I’m not jealous, Steve.”

“Are you going to look at me when you’re saying that?” He asked quietly, his voice husky as he leaned toward you.

The moment suddenly felt intimate, like there weren’t at least thirty people in the backyard with you. You swallowed thickly, meeting his brown-eyed gaze. “I’m not jealous,” you said slowly, hating the way your cheeks burned.

“Then why don’t I believe you?” He asked, his smirk turning wolfish. “You know, you seemed pretty tense around Tammy-”

Something in you snapped. Tammy fucking Thompson.

“I don’t like Tammy.” Your glare turned steely. “She fucking hazed Robin, and here you are, letting her flirt with you the next year? You’re a dick.”

Tammy Thompson. You were so distracted by wanting to gnaw on Steve’s stupid face that drunk Robin was going to have to interact with Tammy mother fucking Thompson.

You grit your teeth. “Fuck!” you spat, turning on your heel, reluctantly making your way back through the crowd.

“I’m a dick?!” Steve called after you. “What do you mean I’m a dick?!”

You whipped around, facing him. “You told her where Robin was, you fucking idiot! I’m sorry that you didn’t care about her this time last year, but Robin was ruined for at least a month.”

Steve’s face softened, his hands running through his hair. “I totally forgot.”

“Yeah, I know you did,” you said, your voice hard. “But I didn’t, okay? I’m going to go fix this now.”

You couldn’t let him bother you. You needed to get to Robin’s rescue.

You turned back around, feeling Steve’s looming presence as you slipped through the patio doors. You stopped, causing him to run right into your back. You whipped around again.

“What?!” He said, his eyes wide.

“Stop distracting me!” You shouted, your eyes equally as wide. “Go fuck whatever creature with legs and a pulse that you’re going to fuck and leave me alone!”

Steve scoffed, smirking again. “You’re so jealous-”

“You know what?! Yeah! I am!” You didn’t care anymore. You had to get it off your chest. “I’m jealous, okay?! Are you happy now?! Do you like making girls crazy about you?! You’ve done a fucking fantastic job with me, Steve!!”

Steve’s smirk dropped, his gaze softening. He looked like a kicked puppy. “Really?”

“God, you really are fucking insufferable!" You shouted.

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, frowning. “I didn’t mean-” He reached out to touch you.

You could’ve screamed, but instead you stamped your foot, pushing his hand away before weaving through the crowd away from him.

You didn’t care if he followed you or not. You were just focused on getting to Robin before Kermit could.

You pushed your way out the front door, finding Robin still propped up against Zack, Tammy nowhere to be found.

You breathed a sigh of relief, joining the band nerds in the front lawn. Vickie had weaseled her way close to Robin, but not too close. She smiled, staring at the blonde girl.

“Hey guys,” you greeted them, eyes locking with Robin’s. “We need to leave.”

“Awww,” Robin cooed, her head obviously heavy on Zack’s shoulder, her eyes flicking to Vickie's. “I’m having fun.”

“Well, I just remembered that I need to work in the morning,” you said, grabbing Robin’s arm. “Come on.”

“I don’t wanna leave,” she groaned, hanging her head. “Steve can give me a ride home.”

“I’m your ride home, and we’re leaving now,” you quipped, throwing her arm over your shoulders. “Bye, guys!”

They all wished you a quiet goodbye, Vickie’s gaze lingering on Robin’s face the longest. You rolled your eyes, dragging her far enough away.

“Tammy is here,” you told her quietly. 

Robin suddenly regained all ability to walk. “What?” She asked, looking around. “Where?!”

“Last I saw her, she was kissing Steve.”

You didn’t mean to exaggerate, but it was a low-blow, and the green gremlin inside of you was pissed, trying to convince you that you hated Steve almost as much as you hated Tammy now.

“Oh god,” she groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you lied airily, letting Robin walk down the sidewalk on her own. “Are you not mad at him?”

She shrugged. “Steve’s an idiot. I’m sure you’ll figure that out soon enough.”

You stayed silent. Steve really was just an idiotic boy. You checked over your shoulder, spotting him scanning the yard near the front door.

“Do you actually work tomorrow?” Robin asked, pulling you back to her. 

“No,” you said, smiling as you looked at her. “Want me to spend the night? I still have another joint in the car.”

“Please?” Robin said, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “We can watch stupid TV and smoke. We can talk about how much you hate Steve and how hopelessly in love with Vickie I am.”

You nodded, your smile becoming tight as your heart sunk. You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. “As long as I don’t have to come to another stupid party this year.”

“Deal.”

[mlmxreader]

What Remains | Cooper Howard x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ '' How I end up here''

And

"I wanna know who I'm looking at"

With ghoul please

( I didn’t watch the show but this character I.... What I'm thinking is bad...) ❞

: ̗̀➛ Cooper Howard is long dead, but maybe a part of him still lives in The Ghoul. Even if it's only a little bit.

trigger warnings : ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of violence, jealousy, sex references, violence references

╰┈➤ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Cooper was too busy with searching the chem box to even think about looking up; with you standing guard so diligently and with great loyalty, he didn't know of any reason why he should have.

After all, you had been travelling together since you saved him from a group of super mutants, and although it was not easy, you had gained each other's trust, confidence and now it felt odd if you weren't together - you were a team, now, after spending so long together.

Of course, you still had disagreements, though, like when you wanted to help your old friend Valentine and Cooper it a bullshit distraction.

"Thou shalt not get side tracked by bullshit every time," he had grumbled, even whilst aiding you in helping Valentine.

It still made you laugh when you thought about it. He never wanted to play the good guy and was really only ever out for himself unless there were enough caps in the question; but you could see it, the layer of decency hidden under all that lone wanderer bullshit.

The humanity that he so desperately tried to snuff out. Trying to run so far from what he used to be but still clinging onto gope that somewhere in all the shit, there was something - someone - to bring him back. To pull Cooper Howard back into the light at last.

You cleared your throat, drawing his attention at last.

"It's gettin' dark, Coop," you told him. "We ought to find shelter for the night, then keep going."

Cooper grumbled even though he knew that you were right; being so close to the edge of the Glowing Sea was more dangerous at night than any other time.

Ravenous deathclaws stalked the land searching for anything they could devour. Glowing ghouls with rotted brains and empty dyes were just waiting at the chance to consume any sort of meat. There was always something in the shadows.

But Cooper still slammed the chem box shut and he still stood up and gestured for you to follow him back to the ruined house not far down the road.

It had only one bed, but it still had a roof, and that was better than nothing.

At least you weren't on that fucking foggy island again with all those gulpers and anglers and crabs. so there was that.

"You take the bed," Cooper told you with a huff. "I'll just sleep on the chair."

You shook your head. "Why don't we just share? It's plenty big enough and it wouldn't be the first time."

Cooper huffed as he took his hat and coat off, putting them on the chair before sitting at the edge of the bed; he watched you with great curiosity, taking notes of every movement as if he was studying you and trying to learn your behaviour.

You didn't think much of it - he had been doing it for a while now.

Well, ever since you met up with that Ghoul Mayor who had endlessly flirted with you; you knew Cooper didn't like the fact that you flirted back, but you assumed it was only because he didn't want you to be distracted by the oh so handsome ghoul.

"Hey," you cleared your throat as you looked at him, the buttons of your shirt undone to expose only the slightest glimpse of your chest. "We're okay, right?"

Cooper glared up at you, then nodded slowly. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"You've been different since Goodneighbor," you said with a shrug. "Ever since that Mayor invited me to stay the night, you've been weird."

"Thou shalt not-"

"Get side tracked by bullshit every time, I know, I know, but it ain't that and you know it," you told him, folding your arms across your chest. "It's like you had an issue with him wanting to get in my trousers."

He glared at you for a moment, then shook his head with a scowl. "How'd I end up here? Bein' fuckin' questioned about why I cockblocked that Mayor you fuckin' couldn't wait to jump on."

"Hust tell me why, Coop," you sighed.

"He weren't right for you," he told you with a sneer. "He didn't know what it's like out there for people like us. He spent all his fuckin' time in an office doin' chems - he don't know. Someone like that can't be right for someone like you."

"And you think you would be?" You asked with a raised brow. "Then why the fuck didn't you just tell me? Why the fuck did you have to go all stupid and weird?"

Cooper grumbled. "Shut up about it, would ya? It don't matter - I ain't... I ain't who I was and I ain't never gonna go back to it. So shut up, lie down and fuckin' sleep. We'll head out first thing. Second dawn comes up."

"Or what?" You challenged.

"Or I'll take you back to Goodneighbor," he all but growled out. "And you can stay there with your pretty boy Mayor."

"You wouldn't," you shook your head, narrowing your gaze at him. "I'm not an asset to you, Coop, and you care about me - whether you admit it or not. You care, you just won't let me in... but you want to... so tell me, because I wanna know who I'm looking at: The Ghoul, or Cooper?"

His expression softened as he looked down at the ground to hide his weakness, groaning and sighing heavily. "My name was- is Cooper Howard. I'm a bounty hunter, and I hated the way that Mayor looked at you, spoke to you... but I can't be what you want, and we both know that."

You came to sit beside him, your hand landing on his thigh. "So you can't be yourself? Because that's what I'd want. I'd want the snarky, violent, asshole who shoots first and asks questions later."

Cooper didn't say anything, just put his hand on yours and nodded slowly; he couldn't bring himself to say it, in all honesty. He tried to long to snuff out his humanity that it felt wrong to even try to engage with it again; Cooper Howard was dead, and he knew that.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, please consider donating to help Mahmoud rebuild his life.

[denaliwrites]

Horrible Things

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor notices you like to cuddle the crab plushie he got you, so he decides to get you another one. Sequel to Cute Things.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: The most horrifically realistic crab plushie ever.

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

"You -- you get that thing away from me!" you whined as you backed up into one of the seats by the console. Carefully, but simultaneously in something of a panicked hurry, you crawled on top of it and perched precariously. All the while, you had a finger pointed menacingly at what the Doctor held in his hand.

"What?" he asked innocently. "What's wrong with it? I thought you'd like it!"

You wagged your finger at the object he held. "That is evil! Cursed. Possessed by the souls of every crab that's ever died by human hands."

"What?"

The barely contained laughter in just that one word only spurred you to press deeper into the seat. "You heard me, jackass. Now get it away!"

"Aw, but it's cute," he protested, turning the crab plush to look at him. "I rather thought you'd name it the CRABIS."

"The -- Doctor!" you whimpered. "It -- I'm sorry, but it's way too realistic to be cute! And where the fuck are its eyes!?"

He looked at the crab thoughtfully, turning it this way and that so as to examine it. "Huh. That's a good question," he admitted.

"Crabs have eyes," you said. "But that cursed crustacean has none!"

You could tell that the Doctor was having a great time with this. His lips kept twitching up in flashes of crooked smiles that he struggled to rein in.

"Eyes are the windows to the soul, yeah?" you asked.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice curious.

"Well, that thing doesn't have eyes -- and it looks soulless!"

"Hey, now," he said, managing to sound somewhat serious, "plenty of things don't have eyes but have plenty of soul --"

"But not that!" you protested. "That's some Chucky shit!"

"What--"

"That thing's gonna come alive in the middle of the night and kill me!"

"Now you're just being mean," the Doctor pouted, settling the crab neatly on the console. "Look at it. Harmless little thing. Cute."

You hissed, much like a cat, in the crab's direction before slinking off the seat and down the hall towards the bedrooms, also much like a cat.

You awoke that night to strange shuffling outside your door. Forgetting all about the events of earlier that day, you got up and opened it, expecting to see the Doctor. Instead, you were met with empty air.

You looked down the hall in both directions before shrugging and turning to close the door.

Just before you did, though, something caught your eye and you looked down.

Sitting just outside the entrance to your room was the little crab plush, and in one of its claws was a knife.

The scream that came out of you was loud enough to rattle the TARDIS. It echoed down the hall and the sound of the Doctor's jubilant laugh echoed back from somewhere to your left.

You picked up the crab and its knife and stared at it balefully. "I'm gonna kill him," you told it. "I'm gonna take this stupid knife and I'm gonna kill him with it." Though the crab didn't answer you, you suspected the Doctor heard you, based on the gleeful cackle you heard in the distance.

[dsudis]

Adaptive Tea Making

For @domaystic Day 5: Learning Something New.

Dream is human now, and determined to learn how to make his beloved a cup of tea. He just has a small difficulty with time to get over.

___

Hob looked over at Dream, who was perched on a stool at the kitchen bench with his ever-present notebook open to a fresh page, his phone unlocked beside it, and an actual stopwatch beside that. He had a pencil in his hand, freshly sharpened, and a second pencil also perfectly sharpened set beside the notebook.

Hob had secondhand text anxiety just looking at those pencils. 

"Ready?" Hob asked, though surely it was not possible to be more ready than Dream currently was. 

Dream didn't even meet his gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on Hob's hands. "Ready. Please show me, one more time, how to make a cup of tea the way you like it." 

As Dream spoke he wrote on the pristine notebook page: Hob's tea instructions. His handwriting was crooked and crabbed but legible. 

"So--there's water in the kettle already," Hob said, feeling like possibly he was the one being tested. However he made this cup of tea, Dream would continue making this exact cup of tea for him forever. 

Hob was fine with that. Hob would frankly have been fine with continuing to get wildly undrinkable cups of tea from Dream forever, but Dream was determined to learn this particular human skill correctly, and seemed somehow convinced that this time he was going to crack it. 

Hob flipped the switch. Dream turned on a timer on his phone and then wrote down the first two steps: water in kettle and turn on kettle. He also wrote to one side, Phone timer: total length of process and drew a little line beside it to be filled in with a number later. 

They had learned, after Dream had committed a series of frankly baffling tea mishaps including "hot water with no detectable trace of tea" and "oversteeped to the point of activating an immortal's gag reflex through sheer bitterness" and "boiled the kettle dry" that Dream had no real sense of how time passed. It passed how he wished it to pass, in the Dreaming, and even in the Waking he had always been able to nudge reality a bit to make the flow of time conform to his narrative sense or personal convenience.  

Now that he was divested of those powers and operating a human body, the linear flow of time had so far made absolutely no impression on Dream. Hob had had to point out to him things like "if you wake up and it is still dark, it is still night, and you will probably want to go back to sleep until it's light out" and how often meals should happen.  

It was the tea that had made it clear that even telling Dream times when things should happen was not very helpful to him. He couldn't seem to hold the numbers in his head or make sense of them when he consulted a clock. Hob had simply started giving him other ways of gauging the passage of time, teaching him about the sun's position in the sky at mealtimes and when Hob returned from work, and about the activity of people visible from the windows, and which programs on the telly corresponded reliably to morning, afternoon, and evening. 

Hob had spent long stretches of time--most of his life, really--without access to clocks. People nowadays were obsessed with them, and with precise timing for everything, but Dream wouldn't need to worry about being punctual to a work shift or keeping all sorts of appointments. Hob could help him with where precision was needed, and could teach him to get along where it wasn't. 

Tea, unfortunately, was a matter of some precision. When the kettle let out the first gurgles, Hob grabbed the tea canister. "Plenty of times I just use bag tea, but my insufferably posh lover seems set on spoiling me, so," Hob scooped tea into the strawberry-shaped infuser. "This is what we've got in place of a tea bag. Time-wise, either should work the same." 

Dream faithfully wrote down prepare infuser (or tea bag).

"The timing for the kettle will change a bit. A smaller amount of water boils faster. There's a bit over two cups in right now," Hob pointed to the line on the side, "so it takes a little over two minutes." 

Dream wrote down kettle boils and then waited watchfully until the kettle hit its automatic shutoff and consulted the time. Kettle shuts off, he wrote down, and then 2:38 with a tidy little asterisk beside it.

"Infuser goes in mug," Hob narrated. "Pour the water over it, leave about an inch at the top for milk. And start your stopwatch, because this is the bit I couldn't tell you, because I do it by feel." 

Dream started the stopwatch and scribbled down more notes, drawing a little box for the all-important steeping time to be entered. Hob watched the mug, wondering once again how he did know when it was done steeping. He'd tried more than once to describe it to Dream, but none of his descriptions had been at all helpful--as proven by the various disastrous cups of tea--and had only frustrated both of them. 

He wanted to fill the silence, but Hob didn't dare mess this up for Dream, when he was so determined to get this right. Most of human life had come easily enough to him, once he set himself to adapt to it, but tea had thwarted him. Hob was a little worried that Dream was building this up into some kind of epic battle of wills he had to win to Succeed At Being Human. 

Dream looked up at him expectantly and Hob looked back down at his mug, a little worried that he'd gotten distracted--he'd certainly oversteeped his tea enough times for one reason or another--but no, a sniff and a glance told him it wasn't quite there yet. "Almost," Hob said. "Not really a bad cup of tea if you stop now, but not quite." He drummed his fingers, waiting for-- 

"Ah," Hob said, "Now." He reached for the infuser and lifted it out, and the stopwatch clicked at the exact instant it cleared the top of the mug. Hob set the infuser in the sink and then swirled the cup of tea, giving it another sniff to be sure, but yes, that was a just-right cup of tea. He grabbed the jug of milk and looked to see that Dream was intently watching before he poured in a dollop. 

Dream's eyes narrowed slightly and then he nodded and wrote down a specific liquid volume that Hob was sure was in fact precisely correct--Dream's spatial skills were laser-accurate and slightly unnerving.  

"And a spoonful of sugar, because I'm feeling like it today," Hob said. "I do honey sometimes. Sometimes two spoonfuls of sugar." He stirred in the sugar and sipped. "And that's--" 

Dream clicked the timer on his phone and recorded the time, then picked up the phone and tapped rapidly at it. "Tell me that the water should boil about now," Dream said, and held out the phone like a reporter's microphone. 

"Water should be boiling about now," Hob parroted obediently.  

Dream nodded, tapped at the phone again, and said, "Now tell me the tea is ready."  

When Dream held out the phone, Hob said, "Tea's ready, love." 

Dream was startled into a smile at that addition, and asked, "How is it?" 

"Just right," Hob said. "But if you--" 

Dream shook his head, still smiling, and went back to tapping at things on his phone. "These things are amazing, you know?" Dream said. "I thought I would have to learn magic, but these are like little prosthetic memories. If you work out all the steps, you can make it do all these things for you. Well, not for you, you don't need it. For me." 

"I mean, I'd be lost without my calendar and things," Hob said. He'd never thought of technology to solve Dream's difficulty with time. He'd thought it was just more clocks all the way down, there. 

"Watch," Dream said, and then, to his phone, "Computer, making a cup of tea." 

"Acknowledged," his phone replied, because Dream had watched possibly too many sci-fi movies with Hob at what had turned out to be a formative time in his life. "When there is water in the kettle, turn the kettle on." 

Dream mimed flipping the switch on the kettle. 

Nothing happened, since Dream was still a good yard away from the kettle. Reminded, Hob ran some more water into it and put it back. He was sipping his tea again and nearly choked on it when his own voice came from Dream's phone. "Water should be boiling about now." 

"Computer, wait," Dream said, and the phone was back to its Computer voice when it said, "Acknowledged." 

"In case there is more water in the kettle," Dream said. "If there is less, I will be able to tell it to skip ahead when the water boils." 

"Computer, resume," Dream added to the phone. 

"Prepare the infuser, then pour boiling water over it." 

Dream mimed dropping the infuser into the mug, then pouring the water. "Computer, steeping." 

"Steeping," the computer said, sounding slightly stilted like it had had to assemble that word from individual sounds instead of having it pre-recorded.  

"I'll be able to use this for anything to do with timing," Dream said, scratching down more notes in his notebook. "I just have to set the intervals and key phrases, and optionally recordings for specific announcements, and then I will be able to do things that need timing. As long as I have my phone. Possibly I should get one of those watches." 

"That's no trouble, then," Hob said, pulling out his own phone to order a watch to sync with Dream's phone. "And you know I'm always happy to be your speaking clock, love."  

Dream came around the bench and kissed him, curling a hand around Hob's on his mug. "I shall feed you your lines when I need them," Dream said, and somehow it was desperately romantic and made Hob so proud he could cry, knowing Dream knew that Hob would always be glad to help him do things in his own way. 

He opened his mouth to try to say it, his heart almost too full for words, and was cut off by his own voice from Dream's phone. "Tea's ready, love." 

[Now on Ao3!]

[chrollohearttags]

nail tech!mikasa eats pussy like a woman starved! spreading the lips open, spitting on the clit and all. a very nasty woman and we love her.

god YES! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 let me tell you, miss Mika is a freaky ass bitch. This woman would have you scaling the walls and screaming her name with the way she puts it down. The messier the better in her opinion..pressing her hands into your thighs to keep you pinned to the bed, sucking on the clit and flicking her tongue all around it. Using plenty of spit (both hers and yours because she’ll finger fuck your mouth and make you drool while you’re coming all over her face.) I mean sucking on the pussy lips like crab legs! Slurping loud as hell, moaning against your folds and even rubbing herself to the sounds of you whimpering because it gets her so turned on. She does not stop until your legs won’t quit shaking and even then, she’ll keep going. Lord knows how many times you actually nut in her before she decides to let up and give you a break.

[bicokun]

The thing that always amuses me about Renfield every time I read about his time in the institution is that his behavior is honestly not that strange. Like, plenty of people eat bugs, first off. I guarantee Dr. Seward’s probably eaten shrimp. And, oh, he started feeding them to spiders and then ate the spiders, big whoop. Go to Thailand and you’ll find fried spider legs at the market. And, look, you have no room to talk if you’ve eaten a king crab. Then he gets to birds and it’s like… that’s just poultry, man. Who doesn’t eat some kind of bird?! Hell, even his whole “it gives me life” thing is literally true. He’s getting calories and nutrients, that’s literally keeping him alive. That’s just what food does.