#but i have a lot of ideas for stories

[bymwrites]

I don’t have anything for WIP Weds so have this Sashannarcy eSports AU write-up I’ve been thinking about instead

-

Marcy is an Epic Competitive Gamer best known for being the world's best Vagabondia Versus player, an older but still technically live service 1 on 1 pvp game. She's sponsored by Calamity eSports and streams, but rarely and without voice, but she's still pretty popular just for her gameplay that's several cuts above anyone else you could be watching.

When Vagabondia United, the next entry into the online versus Vagabondia games is announced, Marcy's fan base is excited to see her dominate ANOTHER game; and Marcy's happy to oblige them... Until she learns it's a 3v3 game. 

Marcy isn't known for making friends in the community. She doesn't make tutorials, she hasn't done a collab for a decade, her organization has no other competitive VBV players signed because *why would they when they already signed the best*?

So the announcement passes and Marcy remains stoic about what her plans for VBU are because she doesn't have any... Until she gets an email from the eccentric owner of Calamity saying they've found some teammates for her to play with. She immediately writes back that she's not interested, and the owner responds that they aren't interested in using Marcy's contract to force her to play BUT they will be using it to at least force her to meet her potential teammates. Grumbling about lawyers, Marcy gets ready to meet the two idiots that Cal wants her to play with.

-

Frannie is a household name in the VTuber scene and has been for a couple years now. Of course, Anne Boonchuy isn't nearly as famous a name, even though they're one and the same. Rising to stardom in the VRenaissance, the duality of Frannie's positive attitude while playing rage inducing online games paired with her vicious temper when she did rarely get mad or, as happened more often, when someone fired the first shot at another member of her team, put her in a difficult to find and extremely popular niche.

But Anne wanted to keep her anonymity, which got harder and harder to do as she got more and more popular. She'd deleted all her oldest collabs, before she had adopted the Frannie avatar, to keep her friends (some of whom were her IRL friends rather than online ones) protected from the horde of her fanbase, the size of which frankly terrifies her, as thankful as she might be for them too.

Eventually though she thought she'd have to stop, that the struggle to keep herself hidden would become too much and she'd have to give up her fame, her face, her fun.

Until a curious benefactor made an offer she couldn't refuse; retain her anonymity, they'd take care of all that, and in return she'd work with their collection of creators. They didn't even want the money she was making beyond some extremely sensible maintenance costs; just for her to play with a pretty all-star list of creators, some of whom she hadn't even thought herself in the same realm as yet.

So began a perfect symbiosis, as far as Anne was concerned, and so it was that when her benefactor, who in five years hadn't once failed to hold up their end of the deal, asked to meet with her in person to discuss a potential opportunity, she agreed readily.

-

Two years. That's what the doctors said when Sasha asked them when she could play again. She'd asked them to repeat that, she must've heard them wrong. Two years. There must be something they can do?! Two years. Fractures can't be rushed if you want a return to peak performance; cheat the recovery and the bone will never be like it was again.

No Olympics, no WBA, no nothing. The sport of basketball had taken her temporary retirement from the court bleakly, but not nearly as hard as her team; or Sasha herself.

She sat in her hospital bed watching them lose matches they could've won if she'd just been there and when it came time to leave the hospital, four months into two years, she'd already decided she wouldn't blame them if nobody came to see her off. She wasn't even sure where she was going, really.

What she did not expect was a car waiting for her with the owner of the Toads in it, but that was what was there outside the hospital that day. She'd expected a polite but firm "renegotiation" of her contract; but again, what she expected wasn't what she got. 

The news her contract had been sold to someone else and for a real, albeit discounted, price apparently too, wasn't expected either. But that’s what the team owner told her, and when she asked WHY someone wanted her contract, he said they have a game for her to play. Without legs? She’s skeptical, but, well, what else is she gonna do for a year and a half, right?

[chloesimaginationthings]

The death of Vanessa and the birth of Vanny in FNAF

(Inspired by this art by Yuto Sano)

[puppyeared]

littlest furth shop

@laikascomet

[nibbelraz]

A writer and His number one fan hater

[westywallowing]

he's,,, a cat

adrientte fruits basket au ;)

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

[lomlompurim]

What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.

Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.

What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.

(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)

So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.

The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.

His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!

And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.

The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.

Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.

Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.

The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...

Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.

"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.

"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"

"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"

-TBC-

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

M'lady, doth this harlot bother thee?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[valewritessss]

The Stoll brothers just suddenly got the responsibility of being head councilors after their older brother betrayed the entire camp and yet they’re “just comedic relief”

[tea-cat-arts]

I simply think this fandom doesn't give Wei Wuxian enough credit for the various ways in which he saved Lan Wangji

[hypnautic-cereal]

SPOILERS FOR THE NEW WELCOME HOME UPDATE…AGAIN‼️

I am begging to the internet gods that I was fast enough to make this edit

It’s a bit lazy, especially since I didn’t know what to do for ending bit, but I don’t really mind all that much

[forgettable-au]

I love it when you guys like all of my posts but sometimes you'll get to the veryyy old stuff and it's so embarrassing cause my art looked SO different and also THE STORY WAS SOO DIFFERENT (I retconned lot of stuff at some point)

But also I'm so glad this comic is finally being posted and seeing old posts getting attention reminds me of how much I've progressed ♡ so that's nice

Still embarrassing ...

But very nice♡ glad to see new people finding this au everyday

[puppyeared]

xīn yá ref update ^_^

[linddzz]

Latest idea floating around in my head: a twist on the Hob saving Morpheus from the time-out ball, except that's where they first met each other.

Hob's still immortal, it's just that Death was the one who came and gave him the deal of meeting every 100 years

(is this also bc I'd love Death being Hob's centennial buddy? Her being way less reserved and straight up telling him who she is. Her delight at his delighting over life. The rage in him when Eleanor and Robyn die. Death took them and she wouldn't even say anything to him when she did it. Also I'd like to see him just immediately choke and squirm like a bastard as soon as he starts explaining his new shipping business to her in 1789. Yes and hell yes gimme Hobsie and Death as bros.)

So Hob is trying out new stuff again. He's never tried out being a magus and gets himself in as a member of Burgess' order and eventually an acolyte.

And then he's introduced to the "devil" that Burgess keeps in the dungeon. He's to help study up on strengthening the wards around the sphere and all that. And boy is he deeply, super uncomfortable with the sight of this frail man trapped in a cage.

("Don't let his pretty face fool you." Burgess will tell him, "the thing is a demon who would destroy us all if given half a chance."

To be fair, Morpheus does not help his case at all and his expression clearly says "you fuckin bet I will")

And Hob is Hob. So while he's working on studying up on wards (which so happens to involve a lot of careful, detailed study of the wards around the sphere) he's chatting at the thing in it. He complains about the boss, talks about the War, tells the demon about his day while the demon either glares at him or makes a hilariously big show of not paying attention. Sometimes Hob straight up shirks work (with a winking "you won't tell the boss right?") And just reads books.

And he nearly shrieks in surprise when he's reading some new novel called The Hobbit out loud and looks up to find the demon watching and obviously interested. So of course Hob is gonna keep reading him stories and keep studying those binding spells super closely.

And ok that's where I gotta admit the story doesn't have a solid conclusion in my head yet (besides obviously Hob is gonna bust Dream out and then get kissed a LOT) but I do have one bit where Morpheus first talks to him and of course it's just cryptic weird shit. Because Morpheus has started watching this shit-wizard who won't shut the fuck up back and can tell that something is OFF about him.

So just imagine Hob is yammering away about how he thinks the masters kid and the gardener have something going on, and he nearly shits himself when the "demon" presses a hand against the glass and says

"Death has touched you. I see it now. My siblings marks upon you. Is that what you are here for? To report to them? To let them see how low their family has come? So they do know what has come of me then, and they have sent you to chatter away and truly make it clear that they will do nothing."

Hob's just like. "WHAT?? SIBLINGS?! You TALK??! Hang on you know Death???!" But Morpheus already is back to curling in on himself in a furious pissy sulk

[cienie-isengardu]

Zuko and Azula in "The Beach"

Lately I think a lot about "The Beach" episode [x], especially about this small detail of great teamwork Zuko and Azula have during the game.

Zuko is looking ahead, directly facing their rivals (who had the control of the ball at this moment) but his body is clearly lowered to the ground, left hand most likely touching the ground, legs bent and widely spaced - a clear contrast to Mai standing near and how he stood before on two separate occasions

which is why I think Zuko willingly create an opportunity for Azula, so she could jump higher - something she definitely used to their team’s advantage. If Azula simply jumped on her brother’s back when he wasn’t expecting it or wasn’t ready, he would probably just fall face down from the impact but as the scene shows, he had no such problem nor was angry about it in the following scenes.

During the game sequences there was no dialogue shown between our protagonists, so it is hard to determine if Azula in advance called Zuko to give her a “lift” or Zuko offered on his own, or did they were that much in sync they just acted without thinking. Regardless I like this few seconds long interaction, because for me it implies how they trusted each other despite all the rivalry and bitterness from previous episodes. Like Zuko trusted Azula won’t use that moment to hurt/humiliate him by overuse of force, the same as Azula trusted in Zuko’s strength and that he won’t mess up by losing his balance. It is a small thing but no less sweet to see them working well together when fighting for the same goal - what reminds me a bit their teamwork from the previous season finale.

Interestingly, it was also the second time Zuko assisted Azula in scoring against their rivals while not scoring himself any point on screen. The first time happened almost right at the beggining of the game (second from total five sequences)

while each girl have the solo sequence of winning a point:

Azula's first attack,

later Ty Lee landing on the net

and Mai kicking the ball (and presumably scoring)

while Zuko’s two actions are shared only with his younger sister while there is no sense of competition between the siblings, something contrasting a lot with some previous and later episodes.

Azula is bossy and competitive through most of the episode and her brother lets her be that without a complaint. Azula and Zuko get along pretty well and A) do not argue (with the exception of the campfire scene and then they argue not even for the whole scene itself) and B) don't get on each nerves the way they do in the palace, with Ozai's presence looming in the back of their mind. I absolutely adore this episode, as it humanizes all our Fire Nation characters by showing them as teenagers outside the war zone but also giving us a bit of insight into what Azula and Zuko could be if Ozai didn't pit them against each other. And they could be a great team!

[nixie-deangel]

just got a unhinged Hangster idea where Jake comes from a RICH family and who moonlights as a contract killer and is a serial killer, who meets completely ordinary Bradley, who is just absolutely drowning in debt, most from his mom's medical care and his university school and is working three jobs and just barely managing to scrape by and doesn't question this rich goes sudden interest in him.

nor does Bradly care when Jake starts insisting on buying him things, or paying for things because he's just so tried and lonely and just desperately wants someone to take care of him.

and who better to do that then a hot unhinged man, who seems to have money he wants to spend and just wants to make him happy?

just. Pillow princess pampered Bradley (it's what he deserves!!!) and service top Jake, who's covered in blood and blushing so pretty as Bradley breathily tells him how good he is, while he rails Bradley within an inch of his life.

I just have a mighty need y'all.