#cryptic babble

[angryqueercrypted]

its been what? four years since the comic ended and im still fucking crying over hockey boys

[years-of-minecraft]

Oh my god they’re back

oh my god

what is this going to mean for mean gills

MARTYN????? MARTYN BUDDY HOWS THAT CRYPTIC PAST TREATING YOU

[extreme-neutral]

oki dok

2, 25, 28,34

These are mostly questions on relationships and cy+people

Ps - soz these are numbers, for some reason I can’t copy text from the ask t.t

2. what is their sexual/romantic orientation and gender?

*Catherine Tate’s voice in thick Scottish accent* He’s a gay man now

25. Answered

28. what do they find attractive in others? what’s a turn-off?

Big tight manboobs and a silly dog are very attractive.

Okok.

This is a taught one. Mainly because he doesn’t judge others much.

Here’s a thing, he doesn’t realise that, but treating him like anything than just his present person (like an idol, someone from the past, some imaginary personality) turns him sour, big time.

Aggressiveness, even positive, scares him.

Unkind treatment of pets is a big no-no.

Everything opposite to those is definitely attractive to him.

Sorry, I can’t come up with a list of definitive traits!

34. are they nostalgic for their sidestep days or eager to move on?

Just to be clear, Cy has completely disassociated himself from Sidestep and perceives himself as almost entirely different being.

Cy mourns naive little Sidestep, who genuinely started to believe his masters’ goal was just to help people. And that he was doing a good job of it himself, being a good dog. Only to be put down like a rabid one when they got their hands on him.

He IS nostalgic of that delusion of hope and self-assuredness Sidestep had. But it’s really hard to recall feeling like that over the cold anger he feels for what was done to Sidestep and will keep happening to others…

[thou-babbling-brook]

Same character different games I won’t take criticism

[emotionalcadaver]

Health Update

Welp turns out that I have Raynaud's disease on my left toes, which have been turning a purplish red color since about February. Considering that I had pretty much convinced myself that I was dying between the time I went in the see my primary care provider and the vascular specialist, I'm counting this as a win.

For those who don't know, Raynaud's disease is when the smaller arteries that supply blood to the skin constrict excessively in response to the cold, limiting blood supply to the affected area. There isn't much treatment required outside of keeping the area warm.

This has been something that's been stressing me out for months, so it's a huge relief to finally have answers (and reassurance that my toes aren't going to fall off).

That being said, part of the test for the disease involved me having to submerge my poor toes in ice cold (and when I say cold, I mean COLD) water for two full minutes which was awful and I never ever want to do that again.

[whysamwhy123]

I am being SO mean to Hook in this fic. Like...OUCH. I mean, technically, it’s Jack that’s being mean to him, but it’s my fault, obviously. And it’s only gonna get worse 😈

I keep thinking as I slowly pluck away at this one, am I gonna get cancelled for this? Or is this more cringe than creepy? Are people gonna think I legit hate Hook? Because I don’t...I just wanna make him suffer a bit, you know? I don’t know if I’m even doing a good job with that Suffering but whatever.

Still need to figure out exactly when he’s going to start crying though...

[duckguts]

Your local rural America cryptic

(but make him adorable)

[our-inspire-verse]

You guys ever have a confusing ass dream and feel like you were just crushed by an 8th dimensional being? Fear and sadness and upset were not things in the dream but it was all SO overwhelming. There was a lot of other emotions too but joy was a major one. Just loud voices, laughter, dancing. So many faces and things happening all at once. It felt charged up like with electricity. Firey and horrible /pos and burning in my entire body.

I feel absolutely insane rn

[finex09]

so this isnt a major thing BUT. i have been thinking thoughts.... more specifically abt how i kinda wanna get into v-tubing/streaming in general bc it seems like a fun lil thing to do and like. becoming a streamer kinda is a major career choice nowadays that actually gives u money sooooo...👀

anyways bc of this fleeting thought that will probably leave as soon as it came, ive been thinking of the persona id adopt and while being a phoenix seems like the right choice (duh), I also think it'd be really funny (and more unique?) to be a greek sphynx. yanno, the woman/lion/bird hybrid that gives riddles n shit. I think itd be cute!!

also so that i could put in my bio "a sphynx named phoenix"

[virune]

Oh oh story prompt!

"After a rather long day, two very tired hedgehogs find out they've been sharing a secret resting place"? Hope that makes sense, just two hedgehogs being like "oi this is my isolated sleepy spot-" LMAO

Sonic was bone-tired.

Eggman had really pulled out all the stops today. Droves upon droves of badniks, all powered by a chaos emerald that the doctor had somehow managed to get his mitts on. Then, if that weren't bad enough, he'd even brought Metal Sonic along with him, if only to add insult to injury.

It was all over now, at least: with the help of his friends - Tails' smarts, Amy's perseverance, Knuckles' strength, and Rouge's cunning, the doctor's evil plot had been sufficiently brought to an end, one destroyed badnik at a time.

"Wasn't expecting you to join the party, Rouge," Sonic had told the bat, smiling at her as she dusted off her immaculate clothes.

"Well, let's just say I happened to be in the area." Rouge's replies always seemed to be intentionally cryptic, Sonic noticed. "And besides, any chance I have to knock that rotten doctor down a peg, I'll take. He's a nuisance for all of us."

"Hah! Can't argue with that." Sonic rubbed his arm, and then reached out a hand just as Rouge was about to fly off. "Wait! I - can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Big Blue." There was a twinkle in the bat's eye, one that Sonic only usually saw when Shadow was nearby. Speaking of which…

"How come Shadow wasn't with you? Is he… on a mission?"

"That's right." Rouge's eyes seemed to glitter even more, as though she could sense his disappointment. "Very important business. I'm sure you understand."

Sonic offered a smile. "Yeah."

"Why, were you hoping to see him?"

"What - I - no! I was just curious! You two are friends, aren't you?"

Rouge's hand found a place on her hip, pinning Sonic in place with a gaze that seemed to be able to find anything it ever searched for. She had always been so incredibly perceptive - especially when it came to Sonic's little… crush.

"Of course," she said, her voice smooth and nonchalant. It made his fur stand on end. "Don't sweat it, hon. I'm sure you'll get to see him soon."

Before Sonic could babble out a flustered reply, Rouge took off at last, disappearing into the darkening sky.

Wow, was it that late already? Despite his frazzled nerves, Sonic found himself feeling tired, mouth stretching open into a generous yawn. Well, since Eggman had been taken care of, surely it couldn't hurt to grab some shut-eye.

Luckily for him, he knew a nice little spot. Somewhere quiet and undisturbed. And it wasn't too far from here - at least, not at the speed he was capable of.

And so, with a final wave goodbye to his friends, Sonic vanished up the mountain in a cobalt blue streak.

---

Someone was in his spot.

Even from up on the bank, Sonic couldn't miss the orange glow coming from the cabin windows, nor the smoke billowing from the chimney. It was getting darker still, and somebody had stumbled upon this place and made it their own.

But who?

This old cabin had been left, seemingly abandoned, up on a mountain. Surely nobody could find it under normal means. Sonic himself only found the cabin because he'd decided to take a detour from his usual running path, winding up the mountain until he was pushing open the door to look inside.

It was a nice little cabin, too. Nobody came back to claim it so Sonic decided to… well, make it his own little place, so to speak. He didn't have any qualms sleeping outside, but sometimes curling up in front of a warm fire was nice too. So what if he wanted to indulge himself from time to time? He thought he'd earned that at least, saving the world as often as he did, and as he continued to do.

So to discover that someone else had snuck in while he'd been distracted made him a little annoyed.

He didn't want to just barge in the front door - after all, if they were capable of scaling the mountain, Sonic couldn't underestimate whoever was inside. Was it Eggman? Had he found the cabin somehow? Had he followed Sonic there and set up a trap?

Whatever the case, Sonic had to be ready for a fight.

He approached as quietly as he could; stealth was never his forte, but if he wanted the upper hand, then he needed to be delicate. After all, he'd hate for his beloved cabin to get destroyed in an altercation. Maybe he could take down the intruder swiftly, or find some way to lure them out before they fought. Keeping the cabin intact was his main priority.

Sonic went to peek through the window, but he grit his teeth with some irritation to find that the curtains had been pulled shut. Damn. What now? The front door lacked any windows or mail slot. How could he get inside without being noticed?

He saw it then. On the second floor. An open window.

Hah! Had the intruder completely forgotten to close it? Sonic took a couple steps back and gauged the distance - he could probably climb up. A running jump would be too noisy. So, giving himself a moment to stretch, he braced himself against the bricks and began to ascend.

His fingers hurt, digging deep in the crevices between each brick, but he pushed on. The window was inches away now. He pushed himself up, brushing the windowsill with his fingertips and hoisting his body up. Slowly, silently, Sonic climbed through and into the bathroom.

It was dark. But it was also empty. A good sign. That meant he hadn't been caught yet. He closed the bathroom window behind him before he tried the door handle, opening it as carefully as he could to avoid making any sound. It was so uncharacteristic of Sonic to move this slowly, but he tried his best, because his favourite sleeping spot was in jeopardy.

He tiptoed along the carpet at the top of the stairs and peeked down over the railing to see if he could spot anything. The glow was brighter from here and he realised it was coming from the hearth in the living room. Someone was using up all the firewood! Oh, the nerve. If they weren't dangerous, maybe Sonic could convince them to leave.

The first step creaked under his weight and Sonic froze, expecting alarm bells to sound off, expecting a trap to spring, expecting badniks to swarm him. Anything. Instead, nothing happened. The fire crackled. The peace continued on.

OK, well, he wasn't in trouble yet. He still had time to figure out who the intruder was. Taking a deep breath, Sonic made his way down the rest of the stairs. He was standing near the doorway now. The living room was just around the corner. He could see the shadows of a figure dancing on the opposite wall; whoever they were, they'd made themselves pretty comfortable on the sofa.

Sonic squinted his eyes. As he focused harder, he realised that the silhouette looked vaguely familiar. They weren't moving - were they asleep? - but he couldn't deny that the stranger seemed to have quills that turned upwards at the end in a way that was so distinct, so unnatural for a hedgehog to have.

He inhaled again, and he caught the unmistakable scent of lavender in his nose.

It couldn't be.

He turned the corner at last.

"You!"

Shadow jolted upright, the book he'd apparently been engrossed in falling from his lap and thudding against the floor. His red eyes met Sonic's, burning brightly against the glow of the fire.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Shadow asked.

"What am I - what are you?" Sonic cried, incredulous. "This is my cabin!"

Shadow removed the green woollen blanket from his legs to stand up. "Don't be ridiculous. I found this cabin months ago."

Sonic balked. That couldn't be right. He found the cabin. He'd been coming here regularly for weeks - months, even!

"I don't understand. This is my favourite sleeping spot. I didn't think anyone else knew about this place…"

Shadow retrieved his book from the floor, dog-earing the page he was on and sitting back down. "That makes two of us."

"So, spill. How often do you come here?"

"Couple times a month. When I have a moment."

"So do I." Sonic stepped closer. "Listen, I had to deal with Eggman today. Rouge was there. Where were you?"

"Elsewhere," was all Shadow answered.

Sonic clenched his fists. He was always happy to see Shadow, although he'd never admit it, but he wasn't happy about this new discovery.

"Alright, well. I'm pretty tired, and I wanted to rest here tonight…"

Shadow stared at him. "So?"

"So!" Sonic fumbled, gesturing vaguely to the door. "Leave! So I can relax."

Instead of leaving, Shadow tilted his head to the side. "Why don't we both just stay here? I'm willing to tolerate it, if it's all the same to you."

Sonic's mouth snapped shut. His face was warm, and not because of the fire. Absolutely not. There's no way he could relax with Shadow, of all people, around. Especially not in such a… comfortable, domestic setting. It was too much for him. He'd rather run a hundred laps through a blizzard than cope with his stupid feelings.

A hand patted the empty spot on the sofa, breaking Sonic from his thoughts.

"Sit. I want to finish this chapter."

Sonic frowned, willing his heart to stop racing. He eased himself onto the sofa next to Shadow, staring straight ahead. For some reason he was afraid to look. Shadow was much too close.

"Rouge recommended this book to me." Shadow's voice was soft and deep and it all but made Sonic nearly jump out of his pelt. "I'm about halfway through now. She expects to hear my thoughts on it."

"Oh?" Sonic dared to look, then, if only because Shadow's attention was directed down at the book in his hands. He scooted closer, just a fraction, to see what the writing was like. The scent of lavender was much stronger now. "Is it good?"

"I'm enjoying it," Shadow admitted. Sonic caught the ghost of a smile on Shadow's face and decided that he liked it, and would very much like to see Shadow smile more often.

"Good," was all Sonic could say, quite hopelessly, as he willed himself to relax into the sofa cushion. His eyes drifted closed for just a moment, exhaustion setting in as he basked in the soothing warmth.

"Let's agree that this cabin is off-limits for fighting," Shadow said. His eyes didn't leave the book, but Sonic wasn't so sure he was actually reading anymore. "It's too nice to ruin."

Sonic's mouth suddenly felt dry, but he worked hard to get his voice back. "Y-yeah," he stammered out, feeling like an idiot. "I don't think either of us will wanna give it up, right?"

Shadow hummed in agreement. "We'll just have to compromise. That means sharing."

"Sharing," Sonic confirmed. Despite himself, he found himself smiling at the idea.

Basked in the firelight, he snuggled just a bit closer to Shadow, whose body was as warm as the fire. He could probably get used to this, he reckoned.

Before he knew it, Sonic fell asleep to the scent of lavender and an arm around his waist.

[angryqueercrypted]

told myself I need to cut down on tiktok to cut down on my phone time and I accidentally just replaced it with reading mountains of destiel fics

[shiyorin]

What do you think it would be like if primarchs used social media?

Lion El'Jonson:

Private account, doesn't accept follower requests

Rarely posts, usually just sunset or forest photos

Uses emojis sarcastically in replies

Has 20 followers but thinks it's way too many

Fulgrim:

Aesthetic pictures pose artfully depict exotic hobbies and runway couture 

Filters all photos to perfection  

Constantly debates high art vs pop culture 

Thirst traps cause monthly massacres

"Like for a follow back 🔥" 

Perturabo:

Photos are exclusively poorly-lit fortress blueprints 

Bio is 25000 character treatise on siege tactics

Follows exactly 12 history scholars 

Hates everyone and everything on the site 

Actually ran some incisive political commentary bots before being banned

Jaghatai Khan: 

Only posts the sickest motocross and extreme sports clips

Videos have insane views but no captions 

Fans think he's a cryptid until rare livestreams 

Hijacks Fulgrim's comments to hype rad stunts

Leman Russ:

Changed his name to 'Wolf Daddy 🐺'

Shirtless hunting/drinking photos get 10K likes

Roasts everyone in comments but they love it  

Followers think he's a viking hipster meme page

Follows biker gangs, sled dog accts, scholars of old Terra 

Rogal Dorn:

Only posts are architectural blueprints and records of fortifications

Gets into epic debates about structural principles in comments  

No one knows if he actually loads new content or just archives old

Somehow gains tons of followers thirsting for DILF

Konrad Curze:

Pure darkness and screams in hazy JPEGs 

3 followers and they're all bots

Posts disturbing ‘prophecies’ and murder puzzles

Under investigation for doxxing

Sanguinius: 

Angelic selfies bring all the followers to his page    

Flowing locks and golden abs get 20K likes instantly   

Quotes poetry in every reply but no one understands 

Only follows animal shelter and children's hospital accounts

Ferrus Manus:

Only follows engineering/robotics pages

Posts heavily filtered machine shop mini-documentaries 

Photos of custom machines that make engineers weep

Comments are unintelligible techno-babble  

Somehow gains huge gym bro following thirsting for muscle

Angron:

Gets banned monthly for graphic content and abuse

Posts angry rants about society in broken caps

Got suspended after sending death threats to Guilliman

Only follower is Khârn who comments 'THIS' on everything  

Roboute Guilliman:

Shares updates on the latest Codexes 

Only follows serious history/philosophy lecture pages

Posts long analyses of governance strategies 

Constantly lectures others in comments

Has blocked half his followers for trolling

Mortarion:

Aesthetic is grimy gas mask selfies in back alleys

ONLY reposts plague doctor memes from 2003

Bio is endless copypasta about essential oils

Gains cult following of goths, metal heads and preppers

Magnus:

Endless livestreams talking about theoretical magic at 3AM with 2 viewers. 

Tries making TikToks explaining sorcery but the videos are an hour long each.

Overexplains memes and emojis in long-winded threads

Memes and facts threads blow up as the most esoteric

Horus Lupercal:

Selfies showing off abs get him 50K followers in a week

Posts stunning photos from across the Imperium with #blessed captions

Fan club is half the mankind 

DMs from people asking for selfies blow up his notifications  

Lorgar Aurelian:

Aesthetic is dark robes and candlelit monasteries

Constantly reposting zealot sermons out of context

Accidentally starts wars of faith whenever he livestreams

Got suspended for uploading hardcore Slaneeshi hymns

Still has 10 alt accounts all named Brother [REDACTED]

Vulkan:

Only follows puppy accounts and craft bloggers

Posts Happy Holiday baking tutorials and dad jokes

Likes and comments positivity on everyone's posts

Followers think he's the nicest DILF ever online

Secretly the biggest wholesome meme page

Corvus Corax:

Only darkness, shadow puppets and cryptic poems

No one knows if he's real or a myth on the deep web

Internet detectives can’t trace his true identity  

Only sends encrypted coordinates in mysterious DMs  

No one has any idea what he's trying to say  

1 follower is Alpharius who only replies 'No, I'm Alpharius'

Alpharius/Omegon:

Constantly pretending to be other online  

No one knows their true forms or agenda 

Takeovers of government sites spark conspiracies

Leaves clues implicating everyone else’s schemes

[cranetreegang]

An Unexpected Flight - Ominis x FemReader

I loved writing this. But I also love flying around on Highwing. Like I had The Escape and Buckbeak's Flight playing in my head as I wrote this.

I hope y'all enjoy!!!

Summary: Ominis gets an unexpected owl to meet up with the Fifth year. He wonders what's in store for him and her 'surprise'.

Word Count: ~1,600

Read more of my Ominis Fics Here!

-------------------------------------------------

As Ominis descends down the stairs, he senses her waiting at the north exit door, just as her owl said. While her letter had been unexpected, and the message somewhat cryptic stating only to dress warmly, he finds himself giddy with what she wanted to show him.

“Ominis!” She calls out to him as he approaches her. A smile begins to overtake him as he can feel hers radiating back at him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”  

“Of course. Your letter was rather vague though. Where exactly are we going?” 

She holds out her hand for him to take, which he doesn’t hesitate to do, then she says, “It’s a surprise. So, no peeking.” 

“Ha! Another surprise? How do I know you won’t just drag me into the lake, then leave me for the Kraken?” Ominis gives her a cheeky grin, making her laugh.

“You’ll just have to trust me. Besides, I won’t let any harm befall you.” 

While he had been jesting, her rather serious vow made his heart flip in his chest. He gives her a soft smile as he says, “I do trust you. Lead the way.” 

It is strange to let someone else guide him. Since he’s had his wand, he’s had no need for anyone to lead him around. The exhilaration of letting her take them across the school grounds, putting his full trust into her, sends a thrill of excitement through him. He feels the hard stone walkway under his feet and the sounds of students flying over with the air whooshing past with their excited cries. They approach the fountain and keep going past. 

“Are we heading to Hogsmead?” He wonders as they leave the campus’ walls. 

“No. Patience, Ominis. We’re nearly there.” 

He can hear the light smirk in her words. Mischievous, he thinks. 

After they cross a bridge, she takes them off the stone path onto a dirt one. One of his brows raises and she lets out a slight laugh at his expression.

“Don’t worry. It’s not too much further.” She reassures him. 

They head down the path which runs along the trickling river until she stops them. 

“We’re here.” She says. 

“And here is?” 

“Within view of the school grounds.” She lets go of his hand and he feels a sense of exposure at the loss. “There’s someone I want you to meet. She’s very dear to me.” 

“Oh? Whom is it? Is she here now?” Ominis turns his head to better hear who just might be waiting for them. The faint sounds of heavy breaths over the babbling brook makes his skin prickle. 

“I doubt you’ve met her before.” She says with a bit of humor lacing her voice. “First, you’ll need to introduce yourself.”

“I-, of course. How rude of me. My name is-,”

“No, no.” She giggles. “Something far more formal. You must bow.” 

“Bow?” Ominis cranes his head towards her then back to the mysterious person in front of them. 

“Yes. Like you mean it. Nice and low.” She encourages. 

Ominis stiffens before lowering his head.

“Back too, Gaunt. Don’t slack on me now.” She teases. 

Ominis huffs with a slight scowl aimed towards her then does as he’s told. The sounds of something ruffling and a pleased chirp gets his attention. A faint notion of who, or really what, he’s introducing himself to, sends a slight chill down his spine. 

“Very good. She bowed back.” She informs Ominis. “You may now approach.” 

Her hand finds his and like instinct he follows her forward until she guides his hand up with his palm facing out. Similar to the unicorn, he feels something cool press into his palm, not nearly as wet though. He pets over the smooth surface until his fingers brush over something soft. His brows pinch as he pieces together what he’s feeling.

“Ominis, this is Highwing. A hippogriff.” 

His stomach lurches at his very close proximity to such a dangerous creature. 

“How on earth did you come across a hippogriff then befriend her?” Ominis wonders while he steps away from Highwing to be closer to his mischievous friend.

“Long story, but I saved her from poachers. Well, Natty and I did.” 

Ominis opens his mouth to express his concerns with such a thing, but she speaks first.

“Now that you’ve met Highwing, how about a quick ride?” 

Ominis stiffens, his head already shaking ‘no’, “This is quite dangerous. I-I don’t even know how to fly. I’ve never even been on a broom.” 

Her hand takes his and for a moment his worries quell.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promised no harm would befall you, and I meant it.” She pauses then adds when Ominis remains silent, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m more than pleased you have met Highwing. We can return to the castle-,”

“I’ll do it.” Ominis interjects. He raises his head up with a sureness in his voice, “I would like to fly. With you.” 

“Oh, Ominis! You’re going to really enjoy this.” She swells with enthusiasm while she helps him mount Highwing. His heart flutters in his chest at the feeling of being on top of such a mighty being then his heart nearly soars out of his chest when he feels her right behind him. 

“Hold on here.” She wraps his hands around a few tufts of feathers at the base of Highwing’s neck. “And whenever you’re ready, tell her, ‘Highwing, go’. Then she’ll do the rest.” 

Ominis situates himself, but he doesn’t know how to brace for what’s to come. He sucks in a sharp breath then says, “Highwing, go.” 

Without further prompting, Highwing takes off at a dead sprint with a sharp cry. Ominis’ heart jumps into his throat and he fully collapses against Highwing, wrapping his arms around her neck. He’s jerked and jolted with every move of Highwing’s four legs. He hears her wings unfurl from under them. The breath leaves from his chest as Highwing leaps into the air and with a few mighty beats of her wings he knows they’re airborne.

Highwing flies higher and higher until Ominis’ fears they’re so far from the ground he would surely have fainted if he did have sight. It isn’t until Highwing planes out and shifts into an easy glide does his heart finally stop threatening to rip out of his chest. 

“Ominis! We’re flying!” Her voice is nearly carried away by the wind as they soar through the skies. He’s aware of her arms tight around his chest and his heart’s now beating rapidly for a different reason. Ominis calms himself enough to take in what is happening. He manages to pull out his wand and the sensations he feels is amazing. Wide open space with the ground far below them. He believes they’re going over the tops of trees. Clouds are just within their reach above them and a great smile comes over him. 

“We’re flying!” He shouts with a nervous laugh. 

Highwing glides down and Ominis smells the Black Lake before he feels the cool spray upon his wind-chilled face. Flying is far better than he could have ever imagined. Having had Sebastian try to describe broom flight in detail, Sebastian left out this undeniable sense of freedom. Perhaps this is due to the mode of transportation he’s currently on, Ominis thinks to himself. 

Ominis slowly releases his death grip on Highwing and spreads his arms out similar to the beast below him. He can hear her laughing while he begins to whoop and holler. She mimics his cries of joy with her own until they’re both laughing with glee. Highwing shifts and Ominis quickly grabs hold with a surprised cry. Highwing soars past the lake and follows along the river with ease. Ominis could spend hours flying, he realizes. 

Her arms around his chest tightens before she rests her head upon his back. It’s like he had been dunked in an ice bath then surrounded by an all too warm blanket. He wishes he could see her expression. He imagines it’s tranquil right now with how she rests on him. He engrains everything he can about this moment into his mind. The wind ruffling his air, the feathers in his hands, Highwing’s mighty wings just under his legs, and her hold around him. 

Before he knows it, Highwing takes them into a smooth landing at, where he presumes, they first took off. She releases her hold on him then dismounts. She assists him in doing the same. It takes a moment for his legs to return to him, finding the ground to be spinning after such an experience. Ominis turns back towards the majestic beast.

“Thank you, Highwing.” Ominis gives another low bow towards the creature. A chirp then a nudge of her beak against his temple is all the indication he needs and he walks away with a wide smile.

“Not bad for your first flight.” She grins. 

Ominis, not waiting for her, seeks out her hand until he’s able to securely latch onto it. He wonders if she can feel the tremors still racking through his body from such a thrilling experience.

“I must say, I see the appeal of it. I don’t think there’s anything quite like it.” Ominis hums in thought. “Sebastian’s going to be green with envy when I tell him.” 

“So, that must mean you would be interested in flying with me again sometime?” She wonders. 

His smile gives himself away. He knows this, as she giggles with excitement. 

“I can’t wait until our next flight then.” She squeezes his hand. “Now, since we’re already off campus, how about a butterbeer to celebrate?” 

He nods, “A butterbeer would be perfect right about now. My treat.” 

----------------------------------

AN: When I first rode on Highwing, I nearly cried. Then I was bummed cause my computer took a shit on itself and lagged out and there was no music as Natty and I flew by campus. And you know damn well I did the whole 'glide over the lake just barely touching it' bit. I have ZERO shame NONE! Hopefully the next playthrough I'll get the full experience cause just wow. So freaking cool.

Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed! <3

Read more of my Ominis Fics Here!

[weebsinstash]

Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader

Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!

me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down

Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!

Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok

You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.

You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"

You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard

I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while

"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"

[gaycrittercentral]

YESS WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE THE FANKIDS ‼️

Hhhhdhdgshgd I’m very shy abt them but I’m gonna be brave since a couple of y’all were curious!! :’> here they are!!

There’s four of em and their names are Maisie, Lacey (short for Shoelace), Crowbar and Junior. They were born tiny, hairless and wrinkly and developed the ability to zoom around and track smells before they managed to open their eyes so they start terrorizing Jimmy Two Teeth before they can even see him, they’re like a horrible mix of naked mole rats and piranhas lmaoooo

Also here is the first drawing I ever did of them :’)

When I was designing them I felt like there were already so many fankids out there that are a really perfect fusion of both of Sam and Max’s looks, and I wasn’t crazy about trying to do it myself so I just made an army of little maxlets. The Maxlings, if you will! But I did give them longer tails in later drawings and Crowbar has floppy ears like Sam, so they didn’t completely skip his genes jfkhsgs ^^; I have planned out how they came to be but I’ll probably put that in a different post (maybe I’ll even write a little thing for it teehee that might be fun). But I can describe them a little here!!

Maisie is the oldest (as in the first one to be found, they weren’t really born in the traditional sense so \_:p_/) and she just really loves sharp objects lmao. She is mostly non-verbal, but in kind of a Ferb way where she’ll occasionally throw out a cryptic one-liner and mostly remain silent with kind of an ominous stare. Her sisters and brother are completely unfazed by this and have absolutely no fear of her, but she loves being scary to everyone else. She constantly seems like she’s about to commit an act of incredible violence but she doesn’t like to be caught doing it, so it’s all off-screen. She feels like it’s scarier that way. Max is very proud of her.

Lacey (Shoelace, because she used one as a teething toy as a baby which is baffling because neither of her dads wear shoes where did it come from??) is one of the middle kids. She likes dressing up and bounces around between masc and femme and both and neither. She also likes chatting a mile a minute with Crowbar, and she’s less of a twig than her sisters. Later in life she might try and get a lil buff like Sam. She mostly likes to go along with her sisters’ ideas because her head is pretty empty a lot of the time, and she’s slightly less inclined to jump to violence than they are. But only slightly. She also maybe picks up Sam’s habit of grabbing random items.

Crowbar is the other middle kid and fairly precocious. She’s the first one to unlock language capabilities (I have a comic about that I can post later!), and she loves trying to imitate Sam’s vocabulary. Not that she’s, like, good at it yet, but she’s trying lmao. She’s always very cheerful and bouncy and probably the most likely to cry a little if something goes wrong, but also frequently swings back around to bouncy happy and tends to forget whatever upset her immediately. She swings violently back and forth between having zero thoughts and being head full many thoughts that she has to babble loudly all at once.

And Junior is the youngest, the smallest, the baby of the family. He’s very shy and sensitive, and his sisters are like his own personal bodyguards lmao. He has a lot of sensory issues that his dads make sure to help him with, like getting him soft clothes and a noise cancelling beanie (bc he ears not really suited to headphones) and shooting out overhead lights when they’re too bright for him hdkdhshs. He also likes napping in Sam’s pockets and under his hat and Max loves carrying him around like the baby he is. He’s also a creative little dude and he likes drawing (and also eating the crayons afterward).

All four of them are little goblins who have no concept of morality (like even Junior, he may be skittish but he still condones violence and chaos hdkdhshs) and will eat almost anything. They are truly their fathers’ children shjfjjdgdjshsh, and speaking of which Sam and Max are thrilled to have them around and completely obsessed with them hehe. They pretty much just carry on with their cases like usual except now they have a small pack of land piranhas that they can sic on difficult suspects lmaoooo

And I have some more sketches of them I can post, too!! So I’ll probably bounce back and forth between that and the virtues for a bit hehe :>

[ddejavvu]

Devil's Food - Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)

WC: 3.4K / navi / preview / request

Summary: A few weeks ago, Eddie decided on a rather bold body mod: splitting his tongue. Now that it's finally healed, you become devil's food, his first experimental meal

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), oral sex (f receiving), lots and lots of kissing, nipple/boob play, gratuitous use of the nickname 'angel', looots of angel/devil dynamics

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Three weeks. Three weeks of nothing but liquids, nonsensical babbles, and pitiful whimpers of pain, and Eddie’s tongue is finally healed. You’ve been eating with him out of solidarity, but if you never have to have another bowl of bland soup you’ll be the happiest person in the world. 

Crumpled up papers are strewn around the room, scribbled down notes from Eddie when his newly-forked tongue failed him in verbal eloquence. You admit, you are going to miss hearing him ask you for applesauce, a slight lisp invading his words and softening them on his split tongue.

Body-mods are an exciting adventure for you and Eddie. A tattoo here, and piercing there, but nothing as bold as splitting his tongue until now. He’d expressed an interest in the devilish procedure for months before he’d finally gained the courage to go and have it done, and though the recovery period almost made him regret it, he’s happy with his decision.

So happy, in fact, that he’s been performing tricks for you all day.

“Babe,” He babbles, teeth hitting his tongue clumsily “Look!” 

You turn to glance at him, watching as he smooths his tongue over his lips, each side going in a different direction. It sends a shiver down your spine and you congratulate him, a slight fluttering in your belly.

“Holy shit, Eddie, that’s cool.”

“I know!” He laughs giddily, “God, think of all the sweet shitI can do with this.”

“Like?” You prompt him, knowing he’s going to torment his friends with it, or make it the subject of many cryptic pictures to come.

“Like,” He drags the word out, the two sides of his tongue trembling slightly with the effort of staying together while he speaks, “Kissing.”

He starts off strong, and you wonder if, all along, he’s been thinking about it too. A sly smirk grows on your face despite your efforts to hold it back, “Oh? You think it would be better?”

“You tell me,” He shrugs, suavely gripping your face in his hand and tugging your jaw towards him, “You’re the one gettin’ kissed.”

Then he kisses you, and it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. His tongue snakes into your mouth instantly, all formalities forgotten. Instead of leading you in slowly he devours you, his tongue flicking around your own and up against the roof of your mouth in its vigor.

You rear backwards, away from the incredibly ticklish sensation with a shriek, “Eddie!”

He’s laughing at you, deep and hearty and from the chest, “What, you can’t take it? Too ticklish?” 

He lunges at you, the smirk on his face only growing wider as you scramble to get away from him. But his hands are already on your sides, squeezing and poking and prodding up your ribs to make you squirm.

“Eddie stop!” You beg, tears brimming in your eyes from how hard they’re squeezed shut in glee, “It tickles!”

“It’s supposed to!” He wrestles you beneath him, pinning you down as he straddles your lap and leans down to kiss you again. It’s a short one, with much less tongue this time, but the split muscle laps at your lips once he pulls away. Then he drags it along his own lips once more, humming thoughtfully as it recedes back into his mouth, “You got new chapstick?”

“Pineapple-coconut.” You announce proudly, his sticky saliva drying on your lips as you speak.

“It’s delicious,” He decides, “I might kiss it all off of you.”

A kiss is pressed once more to your lips to accentuate his point. You roll your eyes fondly, “You’ve gotten a lot bolder since splitting your tongue.”

“What can I say?” He has a shit-eating grin on his lips as he stares down at you, his hands braced on your stomach, “Now I’m the devil in disguise.”

His cheesy reference has you groaning exasperatedly, “Eddie, that’s lame.”

“Lame?!” He roars and rears his head back dramatically, then cups your cheeks, squishing them together, “How dare you. I have never been lame.”

“Yes you have,” You giggle, your words slightly distorted from how your lips are forcibly puckered, “Remember when you used to have a crush on me? Before we were together,” You reminisce fondly, reaching up to toy with a strand of his messy hair as he hovers over you, curling it through your fingers, “You were always stuttering, and you always offered to give me a ride home, even if it was inconvenient for you, and you bought me a school lunch when I forgot the money for mine, and you-”

He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, letting your cheeks go. Staring down at you, his eyes light up with indignation, a bashful smirk on his face, “Fine. Maybe I was lame. But you liked it.”

“I did.” You speak from behind his hand, your lips brushing against his skin while you speak. Then you press a soft kiss to his palm, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you gaze dreamily up at him.

A silence falls over the room, serene and fuzzy. It tickles your tummy, makes your heart melt as you watch his grin slowly grow. It starts small, fading out from his smirk but still curving his lips up. Then his teeth poke out, his lashes fluttering as he blinks dazedly down at you.

“Love you, Eddie.” You voice the feeling you knew was consuming him too, reaching up to turn his hand over from where it was clamped over your mouth. He watches fondly as you kiss each of his rings, then an extra to the pad of his thumb, the skin rough under your lips.

“I love you too,” He drones wistfully, bending his arms at the elbows and slowly lowering down to lay on top of you. He’s heavy, nearly crushing you with his weight, but it’s a comforting feeling and you lean into it.

His head nestles snugly against your chest, your breasts squished beneath his cheek. It’s his favorite place to be, beside your heartbeat, and coincidentally, below your neck.

You feel it only seconds later. A soft flick of his forked tongue at your collarbones. The muscle slides smoothly around your protruding bone, sending a shiver down your spine. He feels it.

A soft grin grows against your skin, pride radiating off of it, “You like that?”

“It feels.. Different.” You decide, waiting with bated breath to see if he persists.

Of course, he does.

Another lap at your skin, “Good different?” then a kiss to the base of your throat.

“Great different,” You breathe, feeling his hands shift to your hips.

“I knew you’d like it.” He mumbles against your throat, his lips parting slightly to latch onto a patch of your skin. Hickies feel different with Eddie’s tongue split, now there’s two directions it can go in, and each side swirls differently around the skin before he begins sucking. 

“I missed this.” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at your skin, your hands fisted in the back of his shirt, “I haven’t been able to taste you for a while, baby.”

“Taste- Taste me?” Your eyes grow wide, though you aren’t sure why, you know where this is heading. 

“Your neck,” He clarifies, pressing a kiss to the slightly sore spot he’d just been suckling on, “Your pussy.”

“Eddie!” You whine, soft warmth pooling between your thighs at how forward he was being, “Eddie please, I need you, ‘need your tongue.”

“I know,” He croons, “I’m gonna make you see stars tonight, babe.”

He hasn’t even started yet, and you know he’ll keep his promise. The feeling of his tongue, slick with saliva and split down the middle snaking along your neck had been ecstasy, and you’re certain it’ll feel a thousand times better buried in your cunt.

He follows your train of thought, dragging his tongue down and flicking it below the neckline of your shirt. Your stomach caves, your nipples already reacting to his close proximity and stiffening beneath your shirt. You’re infinitely grateful you hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today.

Eddie seems delighted at the sight of your bare skin beneath your top, “Oh, were you planning on this, sweetheart? ‘Wanted t’be ready in case I was all healed?”

You nod, whimpering bashfully behind your lips as they press together, “Mhm. ‘Knew you’d want t’touch me.”

“Oh, really now?” His split tongue seems to be giving him all the confidence of a devil, that’s for sure, because he’s oozing cockiness as he laps at the underside of your breast, “Well, I hate to admit it, sweetheart, but you’re right. You gave me a pretty solid three weeks of favors,” He recalls the sloppy, hazy blowjobs you’d helped him through his healing process with, the boy above you reduced to mere whimpers and blubbers at the feeling of your tongue around his cock, “I think I owe you a thank-you.”

He’s certainly not blubbering now, as his forked tongue flicks around the bead of your nipple. You gasp at the sudden sensation, having gotten used to the warm, wet presence at the base of your breast, and his ringed hand tightens around your other tit.

“Sensitive,” He marvels, the palm of his hand flush to your other perked nipple, putting pressure against it that has your stomach bottoming out, “Does it feel better this way, angel?”

“Yes,” You nod, your head shifting against the pillow beneath it, “Yes!”

“I can tell,” Eddie muses, slotting your nipple between both sides of his tongue, “I can feel you shaking, y’know..”

You suppose you are shaking. A thigh tremble here, the slight flutter of your stomach. Becoming devil’s food is exhilarating to say the least, and you can feel warmth bleeding through your core.

“Poor, sweet angel.” Eddie laments, lips pressing in a pucker to your tit, “You were puttin’ that pretty mouth of yours all over me, weren’t’cha? And I just got to lay there.” He hums sympathetically against your skin, “Well it’s your turn now.”

He moves to your other boob, fingers pinching at the saliva-coated, sensitive nipple that he’d just released from his mouth. He ravishes the other just the same, tongue swirling and flicking and splitting over the hardened bud.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” You’re sure he’s teasing you, because his words fan the flames in your belly, they don’t put them out so that you can relax. But he presses on, his breath against your nipple coming out hazy and gruff, “‘Gonna take care of you, now.”

He sends one last fond squeeze to your nipple, retracting his tongue slowly after. The air of his bedroom is much cooler than you’d prefer, drying his saliva on you and giving your skin a sticky sheen.

Though his tongue is no longer skating across the sensitive skin of your chest, he trails it down your stomach, flicking it into the dip of your belly button. You shriek at the unexpected ticklish sensation, craning up to swat at his shoulders.

“Eddie!” You chide, covering your tummy protectively, “That tickles.”

“Sor-ryI.” He huffs, “‘M not allowed to have a little fun?”

“Not now,” You whimper, fire slowly burning through your core and up into your belly, heat pooling there, “Please jus’ touch me.”

Sympathy, sticky and sweet, twists up Eddie’s face. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh, his nose rutting into the crease between your thigh and your waist.

“I’m sorry, angel.” He croons, nuzzling his face into your soft skin, “I’m just teasing.”

“Don’t!” You insist, your bottom lip protruding in a picturesque pout, “Need your- ah!”

Eddie is very good at following directions, at least when he wants to. You know this, you’ve known this for a while, so when you ask him to eat you out, and he does, it shouldn’t come as a shock. 

But it does, the forked muscle prodding at your slit, sliding over your entrance, has you jolting. You’d asked him to do it, you’re not sure why it surprises you.

“Fuck,” You swear, the sound harsher and more guttural than you’d have imagined possible coming from your throat, “Jesus Christ!”

“Eddie Munson,” Eddie corrects you, and you feel the smug smirk on his lips as they press to your core, “But you were pretty close.”

“Shut up,” You scoff, reaching down to grab a strand of his hair and yank it, “I said stop teasing!”

The groan that he lets out at the feeling of you tugging his hair is unintentional, but it only fans the flames of desire that burn in your belly. His tongue prods harder at your entrance, finally slipping past your slit and delving into your cunt, and he’s not expecting the gush of slick that rushes out to meet him.

“Shit,” He swears, the word near-unintelligible when murmured into your cunt, “So fuckin’ wet, sweetheart.” 

He laps at you like a man damned, sucking nectar from the font of life. You’re his ambrosia, his last meal, his saving grace from the way his tongue devours your weeping cunt.

You can hear your arousal on his tongue, the sticky liquid tripping up his words and dripping down his chin, leaving his skin a shiny, glistening mess. He noses fondly at your clit, swiping his tongue up with a squelch to lap at it, “Have you thought about this before now?”

“Mhm,” You nod, one hand still tangled in Eddie’s locks, “Ever- ever since you got it done. Since.. Since before the procedure, too. Just hearin’ you talk about it was enough.

He chuckles, the sound low, deep, and vibrating through your cunt, “Oh? Well, looks like my sweet little angel isn’t much of an angel at all, are you? You’re a slut.”

He spits the word out like a bad bite of food, like something that churns his stomach and puts a frown on his face. So why does it have a pang of arousal shooting through your core?

“A filthy little slut,” He goes on, mouthing sloppily at your cunt as his words get lost between your thighs, his nose now firmly bumping your clit, “Who can’t stop thinkin’ about my tongue.”

Between long, smooth, silky strokes through your cunt, the tips of both sides of Eddie's tongue flick teasingly against your clit. It makes you writhe, his ringed fingers curling around your thighs to hold you down.

"What," He simpers, his voice vibrating through your weeping cunt, "'S too much for you? I thought you were begging," He presses his tongue flat against your slit, words coming out mottled as he holds pressure there for a split second, "For my tongue."

"Eddie," You speak through a strangled gasp, his devilish tongue lapping up the divine substance that flows freely from your pretty pussy, "Eddie please, don't tease me!"

"My sweet angel," He croons, popping a kiss to your puffy clit, "'M I bein' too mean to you?"

You nod feverishly against the pillow behind you, relishing in the reward you get in the form of a stroke of Eddie's tongue through your cunt.

"I'll play nice now, sweetheart." Eddie promises, and you've never understood the expression 'speaking with a forked tongue' until now. He does not play nice, both sides of his tongue curl around your clit and slot it between them, then squeeze, and you're nearly blacking out.

The moan that falls from your lips, sinful and wanton, only makes his tongue squeeze harder around your clit. The pressure is firm, but his tongue is soft and spongy, and interesting combination that, when paired with his fingers raking through your gaping cunt, has your orgasm rocketing towards you.

Your hips lift off of the bed, and you unconsciously press your pussy even further into Eddie’s face, “Eddie, more! More, please!”

“Greedy,” He taunts you, dropping his tongue from your clit to your cunt once more, his nose resuming its earlier position against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue, forked and writhing, delves into your cunt, prodding and pressing and pushing against your walls and stretching you with every lithe flicker. His fingers are still pumping lower, working you further open than you thought was possible. The final straw comes when he braces his tongue flat against your cunt, dragging it tantalizingly firmly through the mess of slick through your entrance, and up to your clit, soaking it in your own arousal. The soft flick of his forked tongue, each side brushing against your sensitive bud, paired with the warm gush of arousal that coats it, sends you over the edge, your hips stuttering where you’re holding them off of the bed and your hand tightening in his hair.

You ride out your orgasm on his tongue, using the fistful of hair that you’ve grabbed to mash his face further into your cunt. You’re surprised he can breathe, but you’re certain that if he had to choose oxygen or your throbbing cunt, he’d choose you anyday. He groans into your cunt, deep, raspy ‘good girl’s only furthering your stimulation as you rock against his face. His nose repeatedly bumps your clit, a rhythm that helps you cum until every last jolt of pleasurable stimulation has turned to a mild burning sensation.

“Eddie,” You moan pathetically, your stomach still aflame, “My god, that- that was so good.”

“I can tell,” He smirks, slick still smeared over his chin and even shining on his nose. He licks his lips, once more showing off his tongue tricks as each side separates to slide over a different side of his mouth. Once he has your arousal gathered on his tongue he stands from between your thighs, giving your pussy a fond pat that makes you jolt in your place.

“I take it you like my tongue,” Eddie drawls amusedly, joining you on the bed once more, and hovering over where you’re still flat on your back with a pillow under your head.

“Yeah,” You nod, breathless as you try mustering a smile through your post-orgasm haze, “Yeah, that was- wow.”

“Wow.” He nods, using his thumb to swipe away a smear of slick on his nose and offering it up to you. You eagerly surge forwards to wrap your lips around his thumb, loving the way that he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue and watches your throat bob while you suckle him.

“All clean,” He tuts after a moment, pulling his finger out of your mouth, “Now let’s get the rest, angel.”

He leans forward, chin jutted out slightly. You’re only confused for a second on what to do, then your tongue snakes out of your mouth, much more in one piece than his is, and swipes across his chin. The taste of your own cum is one you’ve grown used to while dating Eddie, because he’s very eager to kiss you with it all over his mouth. You clean him up with long, languid strokes of your tongue, raking over his chin, lips, and flicking once against his nose. He chuckles deep and genuine, then presses his lips to your own, his tongue still stained with your arousal as it darts between your lips.

Kissing Eddie has always involved a lot of tongue, but now that it’s the feature of the day, it’s relentless. He flicks it over your lips, rolls it languidly against your tongue, and you swear no one has ever gotten closer to actually sticking their tongue down your throat. Each side of his tongue roves independently over your own, and the sensation draws a whine out of you, long and desperate and needy.

He only pulls away to tease you, nudging his nose against your own and pressing his forehead to yours, “I think this is the most fucked-out I’ve ever seen you, and I only used my tongue.”

“‘Feels really good,” You absentmindedly hum, already pressing your lips to his once more to try and entice him, “Like- like the best I’ve ever felt, Eds.”

“Really?” He quirks an eager eyebrow up, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to do that again, then.”

“Please.” You nod feverishly, playing with the strand of hair you’d yanked on only minutes prior.

“Well you helped me a lot while I was healing,” Eddie muses casually, though there’s heavy intent behind his words, “What, like every night? Really seems unfair I only help you once.”

“Wait!” Your eyes widen as his hand snakes over your waist, already squeezing your hip suggestively, “Water first.”

“Water?” Eddie echoes incredulously, a frown tugging his brows down, “You’d rather have water than my tongue?”

“Eddie I’m gonna pass out,” You insist, still fuzzy-headed from your orgasm, “I need water.”

“Whatever you say,” He chuckles, untangling himself from you as he trudges to the kitchen to fetch you a glass, “But you’d better chug it, babe, ‘cause we’re shooting for three more before lunch.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

tags: @sweetpeapod @zmxchs @lightvixxen @sillypurplemurple @kittenslovie @frogers @tayhar811 @live-the-fangirl-life @thefreakofhawkins86