#brainworms for a year now maybe

[detrimonious]

i wanna draw my OC's more this year!!!!

[daincrediblegg]

one of these days I will fully articulate an essay on the costume design in the terror (for crozier specifically because I have so many brainworms about it) but it is not this day

[chroma-imp-draws]

Decided to redesign my own redesigns of the Trix once again, because I support women's wrongs <3

(old version here)

here's also a speedpaint where I talk a but more about them: https://youtu.be/CPxklymWu8I

[batfossil-fr]

it’s been a while since I’ve done much art. here’s a fun little headshot for creosote on FR of their dragon Viatryx!

[swallowtail-ageha]

Melina and Messmer tragic siblings.... miyazaki martin i have forgiven you for the radahn thing but ONLY because you threw me this bone

[medi-melancholy]

i humbly offer some sketches of my son boy yusei from a while ago

i finally figured out what he does with his hair when he’s older.........

[lannisterdaddyissues]

I love reading your replies and brainrot tags! It motivates me a lot and I will keep drawing for this! Thank you so much 😭 baby!Bradley will be such a cutie! He likes baby!Jake but doesn't want to admit it gshags, I keep wondering who can be Bond then my friend said Hondo and omg inagine a big doggo, so huggable 🌷 icemav chemistry remains the same hahaha with Mav and his horrible cooking and Ice being a perfect husbando 🌷 both love their little family! (Also imagine Cyclone in a tennis battle with Mav and witnesses him cut a tennis ball into pieces lol)

NGHNSFHJGFAHJf oh my GODDD hondo as bond is so cute wtf 🥺i am LIVING for this, he does have such huggable energy and he and mav would still have that friendship that transcends human and dog communication…

NOT CYCLONE AS FIONA THOUGH you are such an evil genius for that, i can’t get the mental image of cyclone in an ugly wig and tennis dress out of my head now 💀 god help me

[sharkieboi]

watched The Amazing Digital Circus last night (all episodes that are out at least) and I’m having like every single thought about it

[live-at-fortune-city]

I hope going thru my art tag is like getting flung around. like the only defining thing that stays consistent is those mfs are kitty

once again i sincerely apologize to new followers on here. my content is sporadic and my interests are ever shifting

[the-artist-grimm]

Brainworm won't leave me, about angst of your Narilamb but on the other side of the coin.

So Imma just write about it even if I should be sleeping right now. Do what you wish.

Fate is irreversible. The Lamb would die a sacrifice, even the God of Death couldn't prevent it. Sure they had delayed it; allowed the Lamb to show the Bishop of Old that their fate was already written. But with it done, there's nothing stopping fate to strike once more.

The Lamb could feel it in the air, in the bones. Perhaps the crown had allowed them to feel the presence of an end. And theirs was soon to arrive.

Perhaps Narinder still had hope, that their weapon could return after their sacrifice. That the Lamb could be kept by his side and that of his kits. Yet the Lamb knew better than to rely on only hope.

The Lamb's heart was full, of love for who is now considered family to them. For Narinder, Aym and Baal. And for them, The Lamb would do it. Sacrificing their life for their freedom. For the kits to finally see the world the Lamb has told them so much about. For Narinder to feel the rain against their fur once more.

With a resolve of steel, the Lamb is ready, in an outfit they've carefully curated for their last moment. Perhaps it is full of old memories; inspired by any remaining traditions of the sheepfolk who will soon vanish with the Lamb. Maybe something akin to marriage; as they have accepted that they would never see the day of their own and that the freedom of their loves should be the happiest day of their life.

With a sad smile, the Lamb dedicate their death to the three person who fills their heart with love. Ripping it from their chest and crushing it; letting the large amount of devotion they had for their God, and the Red Crown, float back to its rightful owner. The Lamb swore they heard the screams of Aym and Baal, calling for the first time their Baba. They could feel a pang tug and their heart, even if no longer in their chest; never knowing before how much they longed for the both of them to see the Lamb like a parent.

Their weapon discarded, both kits rushed to the Lamb's side, begging, pleading for them to not leave; grasping at the Lamb's ever colder body.

Maybe in a moment of clarity, The One Who Waits sheds their gargantuan form for that of a more reasonable one. They are silent, whirlwind of thoughts and emotions flying through their head yet they chose to ignore most; going straight for the Lamb. Tears already flowing unbeknownst to him. Maybe they were the Crown's.

It's kinda funny, the Lamb never thought they would had been able to hold Narinder in their arms fully; yet even in this form he is as beautiful as the day they first met him. The Lamb smile softly at him, barely hearing him talk about promises to bring them back, cursing himself for his greed and his stubbornness, that he shouldn't had ignored his feelings when really the only thing he now desired was fading infront of him.

Maybe, just maybe, the Lamb can reach for a goodbye kiss. Not the one they had dreamed of, but it was their last chance before vanishing into the same ashes that covers the entirety of Narinder's realm; leaving now three black cat free, yet so cold and alone.

THIS IS AMAZING WHAT THE HECK. ALSO HOW ARE YOU IN MY HEAD (adding the angst art first in case people don't wanna read my lore dump lol)

Like Anthea WOULD have died had Narinder not let slip just how much he cared about them. He didn’t confess his love-he wasn't ready to do so just yet, but upon seeing the lamb break down in the ruins of their home village shortly before they'd started on Silk Cradle, seeing them finally let all the years of grief and anger and guilt take over and swear that no matter what they’d get him and the kits out-that while they couldn’t save their family they would save his even if that meant their death, in the ‘good’ ending sort of speak (which yeah has the betrayal but it leads both to grow and eventually be happy again), he tells them no-that freedom isn’t worth it without the lamb leaving the gateway alongside the twins and himself. He would not accept any outcome that didn't have them by his side.

Having spent their whole life giving up things for others, Narinder essentially saying he’d give up his freedom, the thing he wanted most, for them was what made the lamb want to try and have a future. Because here was someone who wanted Anthea by his side because he cared for them, and they realized they wanted that too. It's why in the good end Anthea starts weaving a courtship sash for Narinder, because while they didn't bet on his feelings being romantic, that admission was what made them realize they'd long fallen in love, and it was the one thing they could do to show just how much those words meant to them. A promise in return to be by his side as well in whatever way he'd have them. A promise to live.

Had Narinder held his tongue and not given into the impulse to say ‘no’, or had he instead told the lamb that their fate was to die, then Anthea would have laid their life down one last time. They might've realized they'd fallen in love sometime before that, but the desire to see their beloved and their children free would've outweigh the desire to be 'selfish' and want to be free with them.

5 chains bound the god they’d grown to love, and though 4 were linked to his siblings the 5th metaphysical one could only be unlocked by the sacrifice of a devout heart. It had been Shamura’s final failsafe. They knew that Narinder may be able to kill the bishops in his rage, but had counted on him never finding someone willing to sacrifice themselves like that.

But the main theme of Crimson Angel is expressing your feelings, and in the bad end, neither Anthea or Narinder learn to do so. Narinder keeps his love close to his chest, while Anthea loves the one way they know how-through sacrifice.

So yeah thank you for the fic and I shall now add it to the little metaphorical trinket box of ‘fanart/gifts to look at in awe'

[ahalliance]

interesting lore moment with the francophone yesterday (as in, it personally gave me brainworms) ft. qétoiles’ horrible, no good, stupid (lack of) self-preservation . subs in English, transcript below the cut

All spoken in French — translated into English subtitles

[Video transcript:

Etoiles: And, actually, I have a theory. Basically what happened is that I’ve just returned from a mission from Cucurucho.

Antoine: And what was the mission?

Etoiles: To do a dungeon, and to recover something from the dungeon.

Antoine: And what was this “something”?

Etoiles: And the “something” was a book that sorta says that I’m a test subject.

Antoine: A test subject?!

Baghera: What’s up with your arm? You’ve got a coded arm.

Etoiles: Uh, it’s from holding the shield, basically.

Baghera: Ahhh

(Pause)

Antoine: Watch out that it doesn’t contaminate you, or else you’ll turn into a code, man.

Etoiles: That’s impossible, man, I can’t be a code.

Antoine: That’s what the old codes said before becoming codes, you know.

Etoiles: No— well, we’ve never spoken.

Baghera: Maybe you shouldn’t be using the shield as much then, no?

Etoiles: Well, as it stands, I’ve been using it for a really long time, and my mind is still healthy, honestly. And the proof is—

Baghera: Well, half of his face took the brunt of it instead.

Etoiles: Yeah, but it’s not all there is, you know.

(Pause)

Baghera: Let me worry, Etoiles, right now.

Etoiles: You’re right. You’re right! But everything’s going well, I’m doing very, very well—

Antoine: It’s true that you look a bit sick.

Etoiles: Uh, yeah, for the past seven years, it’s a chronic illness, it happened—

Antoine: No, but not this one, the other— you seem even sicker, still.

Etoiles: Yeah, okay. Yeah but no, I’m fine. No, no, it’s fine, honestly.

End Video Transcript.]

[qilingxiong]

happy friday! have an isolated piece of my latest brainworm that is qiao wanmian and di feisheng become almost-friends in li xiangyi/li lianhua's absence, getting a little weird with it because no one else in the jianghu watching would let them:

"What do you think he'd say, if he saw us right now?" Qiao Wanmian sighs to the ceiling. Her voice is level; Di Feisheng can't tell if the question stems from nostalgia, or the sheer absurdity of this situation.

He glances over at Qiao Wanmian, laying down with the covers pulled up to her shoulders, dressed modestly in a sleeping robe. Down at himself, reclining on top of the blankets. He's still mostly dressed, only his outermost layer a concession to the late spring night. His boots are stacked neatly at the side of the bed. The lights in the room haven't even been snuffed out; it's still early yet. Chatter and the sounds of other people gathering filter up into the room from the tavern below.

"I think he'd laugh," Di Feisheng finds himself saying, over it, "because he knew since he was seventeen that I don't care for women."

There is a noise from beside him. Di Feisheng nearly jumps, reaches for a dao he didn't bring, didn't need, around Qiao Wanmian. Unfamiliar, the sound is, until he realizes it's an amused snort. Followed by laughter, real laughter, bright but ungraceful in breath. Qiao Wanmian's shoulders shake, and Di Feisheng can only lay still and blink bewilderment at her. He has gathered, from both Li Lianhua and Fang Duobing's complaints, that humour is not a skill he possesses.

She laughs, and laughs, until the sound begins to fray, until it might no longer be laughter at merely his words but something more, and then the laughter cuts off into a single sob.

And then silence.

"Di Feisheng," and there are tears reflecting the lantern light in her eyes, but Qiao Wanmian's voice is warm, "Xiangyi may have been foolish, but I think one would be hard pressed to speak to you and not realize that."

Something tugs at the corner of Di Feisheng's mouth. He realizes it's a smile.

When did someone last dare to joke with him, enough for him to smile?

Cautiously, he sets the smile free, lets it gradually spread, while Qiao Wanmian's gaze remains fixed on the roof beams. Enough unpredictable things have happened tonight. Maybe, just maybe, for the better. What's one more?

"Some people didn't," he says. "Even after years," and for the first time in months, the scars at his wrists, his ankles, do not tug tight and itch at the thought.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Take my hand (we'll make it, I swear)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 3

Prompt: Mutual pining

Rated: G

CW: Steve getting vecna'd; Some violent imagery

Tags: Idiots in love; Fluff and angst

Notes: Based on this beautiful piece of art by @house-of-the-moving-image and that one "Steve gets vecna'd" brainworm I've had forever.

It's always different in the stories, Eddie thinks. When the heroes in the stories realize they're in love, it always comes as this big revelation. The sunlight will glisten off the fair lady's hair, or her eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky and the hero will suddenly realize that he is in love.

It wasn't like that for him. No dramatic moment, no sudden epiphany. It just sort of … snuck up on him over the past year, and when he noticed, it was too late. He had fallen, completely and irredeemably.

Then again, he is no hero. And Steve is most certainly not a fair lady.

He is still beautiful, of course, lying here in the soft, green grass, hair tousled by the breeze, golden highlights brought out by the setting sun. Eddie's jacket draped over him to fight off the chill.

He's asleep, finally, after what seems like ages, pulled under by the exhaustion of the last few days and that fucking Bon Jovi song blaring from his headphones on an endless repeat loop.

Eddie huffs, twists the daisy he has plucked between his fingers. If he strains his ears, he can just make out the words.

Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear…

Steve's fingers twitch in the grass and Eddie's gaze flies to his face, half expecting to find his eyes wide open and sightless, half expecting him to start floating again and fuck, what will he do, he can't do shit, please, God, he can't-

But Steve’s eyes are closed, his face relaxed. Eddie sighs in relief. Then, following a sudden impulse, he reaches out and tucks the daisy into Steve's hair.

He's no hero and he can't do anything to protect him, but he can make sure he rests while he has the chance, can make sure he has music and beauty and sunlight surrounding him. It's what he deserves.

He deserves so much more.

The harsh snap of the tape ending almost makes him jump out of his skin. Steve flinches awake with an adorable little snort, hand flying up to pull the headphones off. His eyes dart around wildly for a second or two before they land on Eddie and he sags back to the ground.

"Hey," he smiles, voice still sleep-slurred and hoarse. "Sorry, did I doze off?"

The flower is still in his hair.

Eddie snorts, pillows his arms on his knees so that he can hide behind them.

"Are you kiddin' me, dude? You can sleep all you want."

Steve hums vaguely and props himself up on one elbow, busies himself with opening the walkman and turning the tape.

"Feels wrong though," he mutters. "Y’know… just chilling here while the kids-"

"Stevie," Eddie says. Maybe it comes out a bit too harsh, because those pretty eyes blink up at him, confused and a little hurt. He groans.

"The kids are old enough," he then continues, more softly. "They have Wheeler and Buckley with them. Not to mention Supergirl. You don't have to-"

"-babysit them anymore, I know." Steve flops back into the grass, worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "I still feel useless, though."

They stay silent for a while. The wind is getting chillier, now that the sun is dipping behind the trees, and Eddie is starting to shiver in his flannel.

"Thank you, though," Steve mumbles. "For staying around, I appreciate it."

He sounds so small and lost and scared. Eddie plucks another flower so he won't have to look at his face. Hopes that Supergirl will tear Vecna's shrivelled black heart out through his ass and squish it under her shoe like a bug.

"Anything for you, Stevie," he says. Means it.

Steve blinks at him and quickly turns his head, but Eddie imagines he sees the ghost of a smile twitching at his lips.

"Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"I …" Steve watches the blades of grass glide through his fingers. "There's, um … something I've been meaning to tell you, but … I think I'm scared of what you'll say."

Eddie chuckles. "Oh, I already know."

Steve's hand freezes. "You do?"

"Absolutely, man," Eddie nods. "You're not being exactly subtle. There's no way the snack mix comes with that few pretzels, of course you're stuffing them in your face in the kitchen. I mean, be hone- ow!"

Steve has just punched his arm.

"It's not about the pretzels, you asshole," he grins, but then his face goes serious again. "It's… shit, I didn't want to tell you like this, I-"

"Then don't."

Steve's brow crinkles. "But-"

Eddie talks right over him. "You wait until this is over and you tell me when you think the time is right. I'll be there and I'll be waiting. Just like you. We're both gonna be there, okay?"

Steve huffs an exasperated laugh and scrubs a hand down his face, pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he yawns.

"Promise?" His eyes are very bright.

Eddie nods, smiles so wide that his mouth hurts with it.

"Of course. Now go back to sleep, dumbass."

Steve doesn’t protest as he pushes the headphones back over his ears and presses play, just settles back under Eddie's jacket and lets his eyes slip shut. Eddie listens to the opening chords of the song for what must be the thousandth time and wonders if he should take Steve's hand and promise that they'll make it.

Instead, he tucks the second flower into Steve’s hair and prays that it'll be okay.

All of my holiday drabbles

Part 2

[yujateaandpi]

Hi! Internet stranger here!

Thank you so much for making this gravity falls comic. I've been having a rough couple of weeks, and seeing a new page has been uploaded every few days has really been what's keeping me going.

I have no idea how you're churning out these pages so fast! We readers love the timeliness, but we also want you to make sure you're not straining yourself, remember to take breaks and drink plenty of water :)

Thanks for the awesome creations and a comfort read <3

Sending you a sibling hug! I'm sorry to hear that you've been having some rough patches. It's gnarly out there, and the world is sometimes too hard on us. I'm grateful to hear that my sad story's been cheering you up, haha! Please take care of yourself and I hope life makes a sunshiny comeback for you soon.

LOL tbh I'm zooming through now because in about a year (IF ALL GOES WELL I REPEAT IF ALL GOES WELL) I will be venturing into Doctor School, where Free Time is an extinct species. After that is Residency, then Real Doctoring, then Life I suppose! I actually do not know if I will ever have the time to do a project on this scale again (maybe not until I'm old and retired hahaha), so I'm trying to cherish these particular fandom brainworms and create as much as I can humanly make now. I'm in a rare pocket of time in the application process where all my stuff is in The Void awaiting judgement (also called PLEASE TAKE ME Purgatory). So while I have some downtime (between like. A gazillion other passion projects) I am churning like an Amish butter maiden. Hey, if this blessed site is still up in thirty years, maybe I'll make a sequel LOL!

[gremlingottoosilly]

hello👋 not the same anon as the one from here:

https://www.tumblr.com/gremlingottoosilly/741389495501553664/housewife-idea-ish-what-do-think-k%C3%B6nig-does

but would König be open to his wife using pictures of him in her scrapbooking things? like what if she makes him look really cute with certain aesthetics in her projects that it just warms his soul that she would make him (considering that he might have a negative perception of himself) look like a wonderful piece of art?

you don't have to respond, just wanted to get this brainworm out of my head. love your writing💌

He would be very reluctant at first. Maybe more chill if you're using the pictures of him in a helmet and the hood - although it's pretty funny, considering the cutest style of the scrapbooking you're making. Just some dry flowers, little stamps, and cute stickers - and a photo of a guy covered in blood with a weapon in their hands. It looks weird, but he likes that you can adore that part of him. He finally found someone who is willing to accept him - to take him as his lover and not just some part-time enjoyment. He would collect the art pieces, smiling every time you managed to either snatch a photo from a base photographer - they soon learned to just give you a copy, the colonel's wife deserves everything in the world after what she's been through with a husband like this - or to just snap a polaroid yourself. Konig bought you an instant camera and a couple dozens of photo paper bundles - now he is feeling like a celebrity, with his wife always trying to snap a secret picture of him in a pajama or without anything at all. He is way more reluctant about using photos of him without his face covered. He is just...he doesn't understand you, truly. Why would such a perfect creature like you even want to look at him? He is more than willing to wear the mask around the house to spare himself from looking at the scars and the face that earned him years of bullying - but you pepper him with kisses, cover him with lipstick stains, and then snap a picture of him, dazed and high on your kisses. You're a vile creature who is taking advantage of how whipped he is by you - how much control you have over him. You love love love making him into art - using the tickets he learned to save so you could make a postcard with it and his photos, giving you flowers that he dried between the pages of some dumb book he was reading on deploeyment. Konig is slowly learning to love the man on the photos - after all, if he has such a devoted wife...

[bendycxmet]

Under Your Spell—Vash the Stampede

Summary: You are a top supporter of a trending camboy. What you don't know, is that that camboy is your friend and roommate, Vash.

Word Count: ~3.3k

Pairing: gn!reader x camboy!Vash the Stampede

Content: sexual content, nsfw, 18+ MDNI!, masturbation, edging, voyeurism, whiny vash, teasing reader

a/n: got the brainworms for camboy vash from @biancalattei and @awkwardchick87. my only solution was to put pen to paper.

|masterlist|

sharing an apartment with vash was a blessing. rent prices in the city drove you two to ultimately decide to room with each other. besides, you had known each other for years and decided that living with each other would be a breeze granted how well you two got along. 

you and vash had retired to your rooms for the night for quite some time now. its almost like routine. you claimed you wanted to rot in bed, watching your shows for a couple of hours before work the next day, leaving your spot beside him on the couch an hour before he resided to his room way down the hall for the night.

yes, the two of you were impossibly close, practically stuck at the hip now, but how could you ever tell him that you needed to go get off to your favorite camboy? that's a secret that will be carried to the grave. 

something about this camboy separated him easily from the rest. he had enough charm and personality that watching his streams never made you feel guilt or shame. the easygoing smile that graced his face like he actually enjoyed interacting with his fans, comments that would stream in faster than your eyes could catch, and his deep, rumbling laugh that almost acted as foreplay itself. it always felt like talking to a close friend. until he of course whipped it out. 

he was blessed with a gift, is all you could say. he was the perfect size all around, his cock long enough to only give pleasure without causing pain for your insides but thick enough that you can feel him fill you up. well, at least that's how you envisioned it in your fantasies. he was a pretty pink, the tapered tip a delightful rosy red. the wispy blond happy trail that led down to him was neatly kept. you imagined how it felt to touch him there before pleasuring him, feeling the soft, fine hairs between your fingers. 

his body was nothing but lean muscle, a full chest connected to hard, outlined abs, flexed arms and toned, thick thighs always clenching as he neared his climaxes. you never saw his face. or hands, hands that were covered with ruby leather gloves. for whatever reason that may be. you also were 100% certain that he wore some type of wig, a smart move you would say. maybe he had unique hair to match the rarity of the beautiful person he was. he also always sported a bunny mask that obscured his whole face, only leaving his lips for the audience’s viewing pleasure, which only fueled your fantasies more, his lips always pulled into a smirk or cute smile, sharp teeth on display, teeth meant to dig into your flesh- 

ok, you were getting sidetracked. you quickly tapped into your phone to play some music through your speaker, faking that you were occupied with something else that was not watching a man touch himself on camera for thousands to see. you plug your headphones into your computer and click on the hidden bookmark saved to immediately take you to his stream. 

please wait for the stream to begin.

read the loading screen. the chat was up and alive, discussing what he could possibly be doing for the night. you adjusted yourself on your bed, towel beneath you, toys to your left. you waited with bated breath, ready to hear his deep voice come through your headphones. 

“hello hello!  how are we all doing tonight? hope your week went well, my lovelies. but not too well. not without me, i hope.” you giggle, blushing slightly as you watch his sweatpant clad form come into frame, adjusting himself in his chair. you could never see anything past him, his room obscured in total darkness. you wish you could though, just to know what he was like. oh well, all that mattered was him. 

it was obvious that he had nothing on underneath his sweatpants, the hard outline of himself evident through the thin gray material. he was leaning casually back in his chair, leaning his head to the side onto his raised fist, chatting with his fans for a couple of minutes. it was obvious that everyone was getting antsy to see him pleasure himself. you shoot a quick comment into the void. 

his eyes light up instantly.

“hi bonbon721! good to see you’re here. as always.” he adds with a sly wink. you cover your face with your hands. he always says hello to you, but it never fails to fluster you. of course, you were one of his first fans, loyal and supportive even six months later. you had an eye for budding talent. more comments come in, greeting you. other fans also knew of you, mostly since you always commented witty remarks. your comment quickly begins to accrue upvotes. he laughs heartily.

“see what you started bonbon? ok, fine. let’s get started. can’t fault a guy for wanting to get to know you before taking you to dinner.” he quickly drags his pants down, his cock jumping out immediately to slap against his toned stomach. he draws in a quick inhale, the cold air hitting his sensitive length. 

always ready for us, huh big boy? 

his eyes catch onto your comment, a flush spreading throughout his body, a dribble of precum leaking from him. he averts his eyes for a split second, glad his mask obscures his embarrassed expression. although, nothing escapes your attention to detail. oh, had you pulled that reaction from him? the thought twists the coil in your stomach tighter, squeezing your legs together to quell the ache between them. 

he spreads his legs further on the chair, leather-clad fingers coming down to grasp himself. a shuddering sigh leaves him, head thrown back. 

“what would you like me to do today, chat?”

>obviously touch yourself.

>do u have a flshlght

>edge yourself until bonbon tells you to cum.

>ooo

>agree ^

>yesss

you choke on your spit, sending yourself into a coughing fit. what? huh?! had the chat been scheming before you clicked in for the night?

wait, why me???

>because you’re the top supporter silly. it’s the stream’s 6th month anniversary too. lets celebrate

>and besides, our boy here has you as his favorite~

before you can type your rejection of their logic, wanting everyone in the chat to receive the same love as you do, a dark chuckle interjects.

“well, we gotta give what the people want bonbon. what do you say? play around with me?” your fingers shake as they hover over the keyboard. you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, before clicking the keys.

you better hold out until i say so then.

you are so thankful that there is a screen separating the two of you, coming off as a bold and confident fan rather than the flustered, meek supporter that you actually are. 

a shaky laugh rings out into your headphones, the abrupt tightening of leather on skin hinting that he enjoyed that comment. well, enjoyed being bossed around, you had gathered from all the streams you have joined in on.

now fuck your fist like you mean it.

his hand comes up to the tip, circling it in tight circles, gathering the precum dribbling from the slit to ease the glide of the leather glove against his shaft. he twists his hand on the upstroke, wrist bending back and forth as he stroked himself. his free hand flew out to grab onto the desk on a particularly good twist of his dick, teeth digging into his bottom lip, preventing his moans from slipping out. a withering whine slips out however, thrashing his head to the side as if he could escape the euphoria thrumming through him, licking up his spine. the dings of the chat bring him somewhat back to reality.

open your eyes, pretty. remember your promise. not until i say so.

stop biting your lip and let us hear you. and keep your eyes on me. 

you type out your demands, adding one hand back in your pants. you’re already halfway there, seeing as this camboy always gets you hot and bothered just with his appearance. the chat has gone silent out of respect of you commanding him, the only thing notifying him that he and bonbon aren’t alone is the reactions floating in quick succession at the top of the comments tab. the instant he lets go of his lip, a stuttering moan comes flying out his mouth.

“‘s so good bonbon. please, let me cum. ‘m almost there.” if you could see his face, you would be able to see the blush covering it. for now, all you can see is the flush covering his chest and ears. oh. you can tell he feels good. 

got a couple more things i need you to do. cup yourself.

he lets go of the desk to grab his balls, hissing in despair at the onslaught of pleasure that shoots through his body. he arches his back, strengthening the hold he has on himself down there, bating his release. he whines loudly, hand releasing himself to quickly cover his mouth with his arm.

what did i say?

“i know i know im sorry. i just have…neighbors… that i dont want to disturb.” his eyes flit to his bedroom door, checking to see if you turned on the hallway light to check on him for that outburst. nothing. he breathes a sigh of relief. you must be asleep. or the walls are actually thick here. he sends a silent thank you to the construction people who built this building. 

dont want them knowing how good you feel? i certainly wouldn't mind hearing how good my hot neighbor is feeling tonight. maybe they’re doing the same thing as you right now. who wouldn’t?

you blush at that thought, imagining vash touching himself. damn the bathroom for separating your rooms. what you would give to hear that.

vash was in the same headspace, sharing similar thoughts. he moaned, imagining you touching yourself to his groans and whimpers. no way. you definitely didn't see him in that light. the movie binging you two indulged in every night could only last so long, you claiming you wanted some time to destress before bed, always leaving for bed before him. he relished whenever you two would touch knees, or when you would lean into his side, getting comfortable for the two-hour movie. recalling how you smelt of your body wash and detergent earlier tonight only serves to make his cock throb harder.

increase the pace.

dont have to tell him twice. he goes back into his rhythm, one hand down below, the other moving up and down his length, the rosy tip turning redder, implying his imminent release. gasps and groans ring out. his thighs shake with each upstroke, tears appearing on his waterline. he tries to blink them back, not wanting the chat, especially, bonbon, to see how easily worked up he is. he heeds your commands from earlier, keeping his eyes forward.

stop

you giggle mischievouly, happy to be in control of such a beautiful man, one that follows every whim you can think of. the whine he lets out is comical, the tears trailing down his cheeks, appearing underneath his mask, hanging off his jawline. 

“noooo please have mercy! i don’t know how longer i can hold out for.”

tell us the story of how you tripped on your apartment steps again.

“seriously?? i can’t even think straight bonbon. all i can remember is a friend of mine nearly collapsing on the floor, laughing when they saw how pouty i was when i came to them for help.”

he never mentioned that detail before. funny, you had been in a similar scenario with vash a couple months ago. if you weren’t so horny in the moment, your confusion could have been a revelation.. 

ok, i kid. chat, is it time?

>god yes 

>i dont think i can hold out much longer either

>he looks so hot already

he waits in anticipation, entire body quaking in his chair. his eyes are fixated on the comments section, waiting for your command. 

come, my good boy.

a moan that can only be described as pornographic rips from his chest, his leathered hand stroking himself with a vigor you have yet to see so far in his streaming career. a shudder rips through you, your hand flying to your toy to put it to work. you wanted to be right there with him when he came. 

he begins to blabber, hinting at his cresting release. “ohh my godd so good baby. so go-” his voice hitches, ending an octave higher. you see his eyes squeeze shut through the slits in the mask, jaw dropping open. his body seizes completely, a rumbling groan echoing into his room as he shoots ropes of cum all over his red gloves, his thighs, and his stomach. he whines as he continues to squeeze out the last remnants of his orgasm, lip quivering over gritted teeth. 

it’s almost as if you're there with him, your toy quickly buzzing your release to life, collapsing backward onto your bed, eyes rolling back into your head. you could've sworn that groan rang out closer to you than just in your ears…

you feel the towel beneath you become moist, the cool sensation pulling you back to your dimly lit room. you feel slow, ears ringing from your release, and begrudgingly pull yourself up. it feels as if you’re swimming underwater, floating. the light creeps back into your vision, eyes blinking until it clears enough for you to see the computer screen again.

holy. shit. your eyes widen, hands coming up to cover your mouth. vash is laying back in his chair, still recovering from his release. white is streaked across his thighs, droplets of his release streaming down the thick muscle while pools of his cum stay gathered in the valleys between his defined stomach. he’s panting loudly, small groans interspacing each exhale. you look down at yourself, realizing that you too have made a mess rivaling his own.

>yall seeing this????

>that has to be the most he’s cum in a looong time. maybe ever.

>new kinks discovered?? 

vash lolls his head back forward, reading the flurry of teasing statements. post-nut clarity hits him full force, and he laughs loudly out of shock and overall astonishment. “you might be right chat. i haven’t felt like that since i was a hormonal teenager. bonbon–you did something to me.”

you scream behind your hands after quickly typing your response.

you did so good for me. for us. thank you

now go shower. you’re gonna be sticky soon enough

he sighs, feeling the ecstasy leak from his body. tonight turned out better than he could of ever hoped. “yeah yeah i know. ok everyone. wow. 20 minutes flew by huh? for me it did at least. but have a good night everyone. happy anniversary! lets chat again next week. love and peace!”

>love and peaceeee

>good night king

>sleep tight my cumlord~

he gets up from his chair, pulling his sweatpants back on. you rub your hands on your face. maybe you'll shower too. usually you didn't make such a mess of yourself, but tonight was definitely an exception. you’re about to close out of the tab when you see he is still streaming. he doesn’t seem to realize though, perhaps still feeling the effects from his orgasm. you watch as he takes his gloves off, teeth pulling at the red material. you lean forward, happy to see a new part of himself. you still. 

right as he pulls his right hand from his glove, a glint of silver catches your eye. a ring with engraved flowers sits on his ring finger. a ring…you had given him for his birthday this year. 

he glances up, and jumps slightly. “whoops, missed the end call button. alright, night for real guys.” he waves, before the screen goes black.

you sit there in silence, the desk lamp in the corner the only thing illuminating your dark space. you shake your head. maybe it’s a coincidence. it's not like that ring is the only one to exist in its style. even though you found it at your local farmers market. from a local seller. you decide a shower is desperately needed. as you exit your room, you head for the bathroom next door, tip-toeing as to not wake vash-

vash who steps out from his room right as you reach the bathroom. you shriek. he shrieks. 

“what are you doing up?! i thought you went to bed an hour ago?!” he questions you. you see he makes a move to cover himself, but not before you catch onto several things that are lit from the LEDs in his room. 

he’s shirtless. wearing only gray sweatpants. your ring sits on his right hand, the hand that's moving desperately to clean cum from his stomach. your eyes then catch onto the bunny mask that’s sitting on his bed behind him.

you start screaming. he starts screaming. “WHAT WHAT IS SOMETHING BEHIND ME?!” he whips around, putting himself between you and the potential threat. 

“YOU CANT BE HIM NONONO-”

he turns back around and grabs your shoulders. “hey, slow down. what are you talking about?”

“im bonbon721… from your streams-” your eyes are tightly shut but you dare a peek at him. he’s as white as a sheet. or as his cum from earlier.

“i. um. dont knoww. what you’re talking about-” he stutters.

“oh don’t bullshit me vash. i see the mask behind you. i know you cam. and you’re damn good at it too. no wonder you have thousands of subscribers.”

you can feel the heat radiating off of him. he swallows, and drops his hands from your shoulders, down to your hands. “you don't think…it’s gross?”

vash had kept this secret to himself. he really liked you but was afraid you would see him differently for jerking himself off in front of a camera for strangers. you had always shared secrets with each other since you were young, but this was one he hesitated to share.

“what? of course not. i respect the hustle. plus-” you hesitate. if you were to finish your sentence, it would change your relationship with vash. but you see the pleading look in his eyes, and realize how much of a fool you were for him. you already came this far, especially when you admitted you were bonbon, his top supporter. “-it’s kinda hot,” you finish with a whisper.

he’s relieved, all his previous worries off his shoulders. his shoulders sag, and he leans down onto your shoulder. goosebumps break out on your skin from his proximity. he smells like sex and sweat.

“you did a good job. i wasnt lying when i said i’ve never cum like that before in over a decade.” he releases your hands, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer. you relax into his touch, massaging the muscles of his back. “wanna know something?” he whispers in your ear. you can only hum. “in all my streams, i always think of you when i touch myself.” he gives your ear a lick as he pushes into you slightly, making you feel how hard he is. again. 

you cry out at his confession, pushing his chest back to look at him at arms length. he’s completely smug, head tilted, smirk kept back by the sharp canines digging into his bottom lip. he looks at you from top to bottom, seeing the light sheen on your legs. 

“i liked being bossed around, more now knowing it was you doing it. mind if we do it again?”

you feel hot. who would dare refuse an offer like that? 

“why not? but let's take a shower. it’ll save us some time, especially once i’m done with you.” you push him backward, kicking the bathroom door shut behind you.

a/n: you have been subjected to me having too much fun with a fic. i got in a silly goofy mood while slutting this man out. thank you everyone! teehee xoxo

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Part 2!