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#calls him edgy and everything
cinereuz · 1 month
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Game Zack would bully the hell out of anime Zack tbh
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nomsfaultau · 5 months
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SBI SCP AU character playlists
Tommy:
Rose by The Oh Hellos (I mean I'm doing an entire animatic wip, it fits and I have essays to prove it. Anyway violence, the power of names/narratives, truth, hypocrisy, how sacrifice and love tie together.)
Sunken City by David Wirsig (Tubbo associations, mostly symbolic/vibes past the prison break. The euphoria of escaping and how the world beyond is confusing and unrecognizable. The idea of journeying with a friend to the ruins of what was once your life. 6th verse as finding a new home in found family. 'God free me from the burden of my thoughts')
Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives (Tubbo, and how Tommy tries to distance himself to protect them/is the only reason Tubbo stays in a group with people they abhor. Touch starvation, hands as dangerous, seeing himself as a monster/burden. Again. Did an animatic for this one.)
Wilbur (yes they're all by Will Wood for the bit):
Misanthrapologist by Will Wood (Philza, for their light/dark dynamic and untangling of Wilbur's loathing of society and himself. WHiT Constellations interlude. I imagine 'can't keep a straight face while I'm praying' as Phil trying to get Wil to meditate but they end up laughing + 'don't you revolve around someone else' as a chide to Philza post Anderson's death)
Love Me, Normally (If he were honest with himself. Wilbur is wracked with jealousy for humanity that he disguises as hatred. Die young mentality, insomnia, bridge 2 addressed to the void, 'Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious?' as a comment on the danger of anomalies and if they should be contained)
BlackBoxWarrior (An entire life spent running from the Foundation and their experiments + trauma, repressing the past, general void madness, 'a map to every victim of his love' as the scars the void has left)
The Blade:
Red Water Dreams by Aviators (The sea motif of the voices, being a vessel for The Blood God, finding blame in those who unleashed his apocalyptic revenge. The entire chorus fits so well. 'Vicious thoughts are stirring/And I hunger for their power')
Paralyzed by Aviators (He's just an Aviators boy, what can I say, it's the violence and upbeat tempos man. Really this is The Blood God's song. His challengers as a duty to cull, as he's forced to hunt down every last foe that laid a hand upon his vessel. The thrill of battle, impending doom, 'I will give you one fair chance' because he really does seek a good fight. The Blade is the one paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch as his body is used for destruction)
Turn Out the Lights by The Crane Wives (Because The Blade does actually handle The Blood God/voices pretty well. I feel this song captures the way he just sorta rolls his eyes and shrugs off the intrusive thoughts most of the time)
Philza:
Rule #9 - Child of the Stars by Fish in a Birdcage (Wilbur as a wanderer, but works for any Collected for fostering their growth. Father vibes. Philza raising his children to be strong, independent people. A gentle expectation of greatness, because he picks out the exceptional among humanity)
Hot Tea by Half Alive (His sheer adoration of his Collected, also fun to swap the roles so that it is the god showing devotion. The pure warmth and sweetness matches Philza. In retrospect I need a song about protective violence but eh I set a 3 song limit.)
Time Machine by Miracle Musical (Amnestic arc. Particularly with loneliness and the vehemence in 'look at what you've done now to me', as well as 'I'm leaving today, today' with his confused insistence that he leaves at the end of the week. The way Philza is dragged in and out of grief at the whims of the Foundation, left free floating and disorientated)
Tubbo:
Soap by The Oh Hellos (Actual perfect Tubbo song. WHiT Croplands interlude. Themes of pacifism, how Tubbo is made of pieces, the separation between humans and anomalies and how the Hivemind can cross that barrier. Learning when to let go/hold on with the Tommy, Hive members, Willow. The 2nd chorus as Rhodes trying to convince Tubbo to leave Tommy in Jasper, with the response of 'I think that you’re worth (keeping around/holding onto)' to both Rhodes and Tommy's Never Love an Anchor. And imagining Tubbo saying the last stanza to Tommy makes me so soft)
Escapism by Rebecca Sugar (Dissociation. Grey chapter in general, specifically Pewter for being firm in convictions: 'shouldn't show a trace of doubt' and telling Rosalind the sacrifice won't hurt them, as well as trying to force a dissociative episode when their hand is sawed off)
Saint Bernard by Lincoln (ok this is a troll but also fits well for Cinnabar and Old Gauze. The guilt of failing one's morals. Technically Tubbo is in Indiana satanic and chained up, but I'll let it slide. The Saint Calvin verse is so good for the Rhodes-Tommy tension + Foundation destroying families. Also the way Tubbo blames their self-loathing on Rosalind, making the chorus apt for the Hivemind mess) (but also its funny to give Tubbo the classic edgy character song)
(Bonus) Dr. Blake:
Take Me to War by The Crane Wives (She sees herself as forced to be ruthless to survive against powerful anomalies. 'And I'll rankle the beasts with words' for her manipulation. Also epithets in the dehumanizing way the Foundation avoids names. Verse 3 is Tubbo 'corrupting' the guards when they saved humans from Philza)
Solaria, Kevin / End-World Normopathy by GHOST (Tommy, with religious themes and verse 5/Kevin understood as The Blood God. The cold cruelty of the Foundation, sentience as a failure/flaw in a tool (Tommy), Dr. Blake completely separating her personal and professional selves because to have humanity is only a weakness anomalies will exploit. 'Though you’ll never die, you’ve found that/All eyes are staring at your hands' is an absolutely perfect line for summoning sessions)
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lohstandfound · 5 months
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thinking about my graphic novel series again. i have way too many thoughts about it
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wildandmoody · 1 month
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I can go on a whole rant about how absolutely infuriating it is that some populations of the far-right and neonazis online have decided to co-opt Michael Jackson's fights and struggles with the media, police and his own fucking 'friends' and record company throughout the years for their own gain, but unfortunately I'd have to type it all from my phone and I just Won't. But it is sooo so so frustrating to see it happening in real time. Blocking isn't enough someone needs to seriously and more actively call attention to this on different platforms because they're doing the same thing they always did ESPECIALLY when they were not 'on his side': making up scenarios or using misconstrued context to ignore the fact that the vast majority of what happened to him was personally, financially and racially motivated.
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lhrry · 2 years
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x
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herd-reject-arts · 2 years
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So I'm quitting my job already
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stupiddog678 · 2 months
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i dont have anyone to comfort me anymore
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lafemmemacabre · 2 months
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I know I already made this post but my God, the subculture that was all about how love, peace, and kindness are revolutionary and counterculture isn't punk, it's the fucking hippies. But of course right now hippie culture isn't seen as cool and edgy so fluffy bunny dweebs won't call *checks notes* Mr. Rogers "hippie" for validation of revolutionary-ness and counter-culture-ness, they'll call him "punk".
Holy shit won't you all just stop trying to defang everything you think is cool but isn't woobified enough for you all to feel cozy while doing it?
You're all literally describing flower power principles and, among plenty other things, the punk subculture rose as a reaction against hippies to begin with.
Like, literally THE one thing punks and metalheads will join forces in without hesitation is in saying "fucking hippie motherfuckers". THAT'S LEGITIMATELY THE ONLY INSTANCE IN WHICH THERE WON'T BE ANY INSTANT HOSTILITY BETWEEN THEM AS CULTURES.
Or, what, do you think anarcho-punks deal with the nazi punk problem by stapling a strongly worded letter appealing to their lack of compassion and shit? NO! They at the softest threaten to kick them out of their venues with wired bats (as they should!).
You're all so annoying and uwu-fied to the point of inhumanity. This is why no one other than equally pedantic and cowardly bitches take you all seriously.
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sserpente · 1 year
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By Chance
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Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.
The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.
The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.
The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…
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A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!
Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving
A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.
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The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.
You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.
“Cool bracelet.”
You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.
“Thank you.”
“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.
“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”
And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.
“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”
“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”
You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.
“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”
And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.
Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.
So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.
You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.
“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”
It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”
“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.
Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.
You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.
“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”
“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.
The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.
Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”
“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”
Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.
You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.
That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”
It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.
“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”
“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”
“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.
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You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.
Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.
“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.
The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.
“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”
“I don’t think she will.”
“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.
“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.
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“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.
“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.
It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.
Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.
“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”
“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.
As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?
Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”
“Sure. Bring it on.”
Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”
“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.
“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”
The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.
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Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.
His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.
His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.
Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.
He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.
He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.
Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.
It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.
“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”
You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”
“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”
You hummed.
But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.
“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.
“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”
“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”
You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.
“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.
“You wound me, sweetheart.”
“C’me here and prove it then.”
He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.
Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.
Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.
“I am craving ice cream right now.”
“You are?”
“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”
“At the mall?”
“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.
“We can always stop, you know that, right?”
“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.
You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.
“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.
You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.
It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.
Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”
The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.
Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.
After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.
And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.
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When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.
You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.
“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”
He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.
“What? You okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay but I need to get home.”
“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”
You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.
“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”
“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.
You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.
“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”
“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
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You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.
At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.
You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.
“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.
“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”
“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.
“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”
Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”
“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”
Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”
“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.
“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”
“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”
“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”
“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.
Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.
“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.
Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”
Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”
“Both.”
In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.
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centrally-unplanned · 6 months
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VOR: Henry Kissinger
Ugh, HUGELY overrated, Bismark has nothing on him. What, truly are his accomplishments? Oh, rapprochement with China? You mean the country that had just experienced a huge split with the Soviet Union, to the point where they were scared of military conflict, that was simultaneously backing North Vietnam in a war against the US? And so we opened doors to them and gave them literally everything they asked for, hanging Taiwan out to dry, and in return got absolutely nothing; China's aid to North Vietnam actually *increased* the year after? The corpse of a roadkill dog could have done that.
The "cease fire" with North Vietnam? That's just losing with coat of paint to poorly cover the shame! At least he had the self-respect to try to return his Nobel Peace prize. Ho Chi Minh handed him his ass on a platter and somehow that is a win on his ledger.
Accelerating arms sales to the Shah of Iran in order to back separatist fighters in Iraq? Whoops! Wow, that uh, wow what a call there. Really picked the right side.
Coup against Allende in Chile? That went well! Not to mention...he didn't. Chile coup'd Chile, Allende was a complete disaster imploding the country's economy. The Chilean military asked for permission as like a token gesture, we gave them support that didn't matter. Its like taking credit for a sports team win because you bought box seats, except at this game they dropped the opposing team's family out of a helicopter headfirst onto the pitch.
All the SALT treaty stuff started under Johnson, he continued it which is fine but is VORcel stuff. His grand "pivot to Europe" was trying to link trade policy to increases in defense spending from European partners...which didn't happen. They didn't increase them. We gave them trade deals anyway. Its fucking Trump without the memes.
On March 1, 1973, Kissinger stated, "The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.
Awww "I'm such a cool little edgy boy, look at me and my joke about the Holocaust when discussing systemic discrimination against Jews the Soviet Union, surely this will somehow score me Realpolitik points on the Big Board that I can cash in for prize money while shedding America's moral legitimacy because it makes my dick hard."
He is the academic definition of style over substance, snottily walking from fuck-up to disaster to status-quo free ride and putting a pithy quote about The Nature of Power over it to pretend he had any to begin with. Hurry up and die already so I can stop running into you haggling over hostess tips at overpriced Georgetown restaurants.
F-
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watchmegetobsessed · 22 days
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TOO SWEET
A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNING: mention of blood and bruises
SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 
You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 
Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 
“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”
It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 
Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.
But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 
You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 
The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 
Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 
You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.
Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.
The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.
Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”
Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 
“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 
You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 
“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.
“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 
His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 
“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.
“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 
“I feel like I’m ruining you.”
“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”
“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.
Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 
“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 
You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.
“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.
“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.
“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”
Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 
“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.
“Absolutely.”
Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.
“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.
“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 
“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.
“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Personally I think making König a loser is a refreshing trope cause yeah edgy König is fine but I want this big beefy guy mansplaining the German wars of unification to me while meticulously piecing together 9,036 lego blocks to build the Colosseum of Rome.
Yes! I love mean edgy Konig as much as the next gal, but no one is saying that he can't be mean and a loser at the same time! This guy will act tough and mighty on the battlefield, crushes the enemies skulls under his boot, and then laugh in their faces as their guts fall down the floor...only to return to you, his sweet little thing he keeps hidden, and falls head over heels for you( This guy is such a loser, you literally have so much freedom even as his captive. He will bring you anything you want - movies, books, games and lego sets that you could collect - and would drag you over with him to whatever dates you want, even if he is uncomfortable with the idea of sitting at the fancy restaurant and thinking if he could ask them for plain pasts and meat without sauce because he is too used to bland military food. You can't even say that the captivity is boring - you actually decided to pursue research in military history, if only to understand whatever the hell your captor/boyfriend/loser husband is talking about most of the time. He is mansplaining(it's actually his unique thing called konigsplaining) everything to you - and even if you're an expert on the matter, you must admit that he is not making any mistakes in his words and it makes you kinda embarrassed. He will drag you on the couch with him so you can watch Star Wars together, and he is too immersed in telling you every tiny fact to even consider touching you inappropriately. Cockblocked by your bf being a loser
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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hi mei! i absolutely love your stories! you’re a really great writer 🥰
i was wondering if u’d be interested in doing a hotch drabble about him with a s/o who seems really intimidating but is actually really soft and sweet?
like maybe it’s her appearance that makes the team intimidated by her—edgy clothing and dark makeup and stuff—when she shows up to hang out with hotch on his lunch breaks. and she’s like ‘i feel like your team doesn’t like me :(‘ and he’s like ‘honey, they’re borderline scared of you’ but it’s fluffy.
if you don’t wanna that’s totally okay! i did a bad job explaining but i’m sure you’d do an amazing job :)
love ya!! hope ur having a good day
Aaron loves when you visit him at the office for lunch, but you don't look like you're in high spirits yourself. When you sit down its with a huff and a hiss of the chair accommodating your weight, only adding to your dramatics.
"This might be my career in profiling speaking," Aaron begins, his voice soft in case something is terribly wrong, "But something tells me you're not having a good day, sweetheart."
"You're good," You tease him, and he wishes you could laugh about it together, "Aaron, I think Doctor Reid is afraid of me."
Aaron has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Doctor Reid is afraid of buffets, he thinks, but it's not an abundance of germs that unnerves Spencer about you, it's- well, it's everything he knows about you.
"Honey," Aaron calls upon that sweet tone again, "He doesn't know you very well."
"You didn't deny it!" You groan, falling back into your chair and abandoning your soup on his desk, "I knew it. What did I do?"
Aaron looks into your eyes, black-lined and sharp. He watches you chew on your cheek, your black-stained lips moved by the nervous quirk. Below your tense jaw is a chain that rests against your neck, not a full choker but not loose, either. It nearly disappears into the hem of your jacket, black leather that falls over a rather graphic old band tee.
"It's not what you've done," Aaron explains tentatively, "It's probably- well, how you look."
Your nose scrunches, and Aaron marvels the fact that you seem to have forgotten your appearance, "How do I look?"
"Like a doberman pinscher in human form," Aaron bites off a corner of his sandwich, chewing it in lieu of pressing the matter further.
"I like dobermans." You supply weakly, "Why is he afraid of me?"
"You're just not what he's used to," Aaron sighs, swallowing his mouthful and leaning across the desk, hand outstretched, "He probably thinks you could dismember him with those nails."
You place your palm in Aaron's own, and he flips your hand around to showcase the rather impressively sharp acrylics you're sporting.
"And your boots are heavier than he is, I guarantee it," Aaron nods down at your thick-soled black boots, ones that give away your entrance from a mile away by the sound of their rubber hitting the ground.
"He's just..." Aaron searches for the right word, trying not to disparage you or Reid, "Skittish. You should talk to him, though, honey. He likes science, and literature, and Star Trek. Pick something from one of those categories, and I promise he'll never stop talking to you for the rest of your life."
You're mostly satisfied, but you let your hand rest in Aaron's for a moment longer, and he'd be a fool to drop it.
"Am I scary, Aaron?" You ask earnestly, and his smile is warm as he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss at your knuckles.
"Not to me. And not to anyone who knows you," He promises, "But... it is nice to not have to worry about carrying a gun when we go out together."
"Aaron!" You laugh, "I'm not a weapon!"
"You could be!" Aaron insists, tugging your hand over to his lunch and dragging your fingernail across his sandwich, "Here, honey, cut it for me, would you? They forgot to give us knives."
"Stop!" You insist, but your laughter gives you away as you turn back to your soup with burning cheeks, "Just you wait, Aaron. As soon as Penelope stops running whenever I enter a room, we're gonna talk shit about you for this."
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st4rfckerz · 2 months
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Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader
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word count: 1.8k
warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.
summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.
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The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.
"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.
There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"
"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.
"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."
As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.
"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.
You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.
"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"
"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."
"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.
"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.
"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.
"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.
His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.
"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.
"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.
He is.
"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.
"Why would I want to hang up?"
"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.
"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"
"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.
"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.
"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.
"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."
He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.
"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.
"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."
"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.
Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.
"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.
"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.
"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.
Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."
There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.
"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.
He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.
You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.
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time traveling ballpit: "into the pit." don't you fuckin tell me it wasn't time travel, they call it the "time-traveling ballpit" IN the ultimate guide that is a CANON descriptor
spring bonnie replaces some kid's dad in real life: "into the pit." we dont talk about that enough that's the REAL funny part of the short
plushtrap gets hit by a train: "out of stock." pretty self-explanatory. also had human eyes and teeth
funtime foxy taxi driver: "room for one more." it's the first nightmare this dude has and so you're not even expecting it and suddenly funtime foxy is just THERE
never explaining what the FUCK "the new kid" ending was about: if you've read it you know what i mean
springtrap mpreg: "in the flesh." i know the proper fandom term is matpat mpreg but the man's retiring let's cut him a little bit of slack
afton fuckin explodes: "the man in room 1280." i was noooot fucking expecting THAT
fazgoo: "he told me everything." i think the name speaks for itself
PUPPET FORKLIFT RAMMING INTO 15FT AGONY AFTON MECH: "the cliffs epilogue." why did nobody warn me about that one. everyone warned me about the mpreg and the ballpit and nobody about charlie being strapped to a forklift in the attempt to push the giant 15ft afton mech screaming "I AM AGONY" like an edgy teenager into a fucking lake to drown him. this one's my favorite personally. charlie forklift certified
9yo burns "just say no" onto drug dealer's forehead for kicks: "gumdrop angel epilogue." they set that shit up like jake was gonna kill the guy but instead he took the WAY funnier option
sea bonnies: "sea bonnies." sea bonnies.
michael in the bushes: "you're the band." michael loses animatronic freddy's possessed head and stalks the person who bought it, digs through her attic and hides in her bushes, and then follows her to a new house and hides in her bushes AGAIN. then when her kid is kidnapped he drives her down to freddy's in an awkwardly silent car ride, saves her kid from puppet tentacles, and explains nothing
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glorified-red · 1 year
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I'm seeing all the hate The Sun & The Star is getting on this hellsite and its so obvious that people aren't reading this book for what it is.
It's literally a children's novel written for children. The book is supposed to be easily digestible and stupid and explicitly written because kids books are supposed to be completely laid out.
Rick has always written dorky things in his books but he has also prioritized writing about real world issues and struggles. He's written about trauma, abuse, PTSD, depression, anxiety, etc. For years.
So here he is writing about deep rooted insecurities and self-doubt and learning to accept all those dark parts of yourself as well as others, AND tackling internalized homophobia and queer struggles, and we're upset the book is too focused on the relationship?
The entire point of this book is to teach the audience how to navigate a rocky relationship with compassion and understanding. It's showing that relationships aren't perfect, you can be upset with your partner and your partner can be upset with you but the point is that you talk about it and you try to do better.
Is it such a bad thing for young teens to be learning this?
Is it such a bad thing for them to see that love is effort? And can and will be flawed and that's okay??
This is the first time we've seen this topic discussed by Rick and I've never seen a book tackle this topic because we always see the Hollywood depiction of love---yet that's unrealistic.
This is showing that love can be flawed but still be oh so beautiful. That you can be traumatized and still worthy of love.
And I am so proud of Rick and Mark for not only showing a healthy attempt at a relationship but also showing countless times that those lessons apply to any relationship. They put significant stress on platonic and familial relationships and how that love is also effort, compassion, and understanding.
Yes, it focused on Solangelo a lot.
Yes, it had soooo many flaws that even I cringed and got disappointed at times.
But the fact that we got a book that finally lets two characters talk about their feelings is incredible, and the fact that this new generation gets this book??
If I had a book like this when I was young, showing me how to navigate conflict and that relationships CAN be hard?? My god, the healing that lesson could have done.
Perspective is everything for this book. Hell, perspective was everything in HoO. It showed that how characters are perceived is very different from how they perceive themselves.
Leo was literally always shown as comedic relief and nothing more until we saw how incredibly lonely and sad that kid was from his point of view.
Percy was always said to be intimidating and powerful, but in his perspective, he's a kid who has no clue what he's doing.
So yea, in this book, it may seem like these characters have shifted, but once again, Rick is relying so heavily on perspective.
Nico was edgy and depressed for as long as we knew him, even in BoO when we first got his POV. But now that he's accepted, loved, and healing, why are we getting mad that he's a dork again---how he was before all the trauma? Why are we mad that Nico is growing and healing and becoming himself again because he feels safe enough to do so.
Ofc he's gonna feel different than how he was written a canon year ago.
And this is the first time we've had Wills perspective. He's always been seen as this sunshine happy character but we FINALLY get some acknowledgement that he's deeply terrified. He's shown as a leader and camp counselor but he's got anxiety written in his bones.
He felt like a burden this book because he's a healer. He's absolutely terrified to be a fighter and yet we got to see him become one in his own way. He was out of his element but he was trying.
Because he's so goddamn afraid of losing someone else.
Call Will an asshole all you want, but Nico had been to Tartarus and the Underworld more times than he could count.
Will is literally walking into a place he's never been to before and is the complete opposite of anything he's ever known---for Nico. The comments he makes about plants and lack of sunshine? It wasn't him being a dick, he was him being genuinely confused because hes only ever known earth logic.
If I saw flowers blooming in a pitch black room I'd be a little confused too. He says the Underworld is depressing because it's literally draining his energy.
You yell at Will for not being open-minded yet won't comment on the fact that Nico hardly made an attempt either. Nico could have been more understanding about the fact that Will, a guy who's exploring this place that's slowly killing him, might not like the place at first because he doesn't understand it.
Because Will wanted to understand.
And the second Will finally began to understand the beauty of the Underworld, he was nothing but supportive.
You get mad at Will for making mistakes yet refuse to acknowledge that he learned from them.
The Sun & The Star tackled a hard topic that doesn't get talked about often. It portrayed a queer relationship and it emphasized characters who learned and grew. It's different from other Rick books because that was the point. (And it wasn't just Rick writing it)
This book was about accepting change within yourself and "daring to be different."
And the fact that you can't even accept a book that does the same just shows that the lessons this book taught went straight over your head.
I've never been more disappointed in this fandom. We begged for this book. We begged for queer representation. Yet here we are criticizing every little thing about it as if we aren't lucky to be getting this book in the first place---a book about two side characters.
This book had soooo many flaws but it wasn't a bad book.
Isn't that the point of it all? To love something even though it's flawed? That flaws dont necessarily mean it's broken and bad forever?
It's okay to hate a book.
That doesn't mean it's a bad book.
It just wasn't for you.
There are dozens of other books in this fandom to love and cherish, but don't hate this book just because it's different from what we're used to.
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