#gonna need an animation soon chat…

[survivalthespongebobthekiller]

Bluey but instead it’s arcane and bluey and bingo are vi and Caitlyn’s fankids and caitlyn is chilli and vi is bandit and uncle stripe is Jayce and trixie is viktor and there fan children are muffin and socks

[our-inspire-verse]

Doing Absolutely Nothing rn. Art wise. Im just kidding im really busy again, now that the holidays are over and i don't feel like i have acid in my bones emotionally. Happy 420 am its almost time for bed

Woe, Inspire Husky upon ye!

[belovedcherie]

also also !!!! i got the first volumes of sign of affection and skip to loafer i am a happy girl

[moonstruckme]

Dizzy

summary: when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual

cw: alcohol

modern au

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.7k words

You can always hear when James’ friends come over. The door opens and the sound of them comes pouring through into your flat, the boys always in the middle of bickering or joking or telling some incredibly animated story. 

When you hear their noise late on a Friday night, you pause the movie on your laptop and head for the door, drawn towards their loudness. James’ friends are rowdier than anyone you hang out with, but it’s a happy sort of ruckus. They’re fun and hilarious and surprisingly kind, and you enjoy chatting when they come over. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Sirius sing-songs, spotting you as soon as you emerge from your room. You laugh at his scratchy, worn-out voice. He sounds like he’s probably been singing at the top of his lungs all night. Dark eyeliner has transferred to the skin under his eyes, but Sirius is the only person you know with his particular ability to make dishevelment look rock-and-roll instead of slobbish. 

“Hi,” you say back, grinning at him. Your eyes search behind him to find Remus, just coming through the doorway. As always, he looks completely different from his other half; whereas Sirius has unmistakably just gotten home from a night out, Remus could just as easily have been at the library in his jeans and t-shirt, except for the faint black smudge where Sirius’ eyeliner has seemingly rubbed off on his cheek. Then you catch sight of James, drooping like an overwatered flower with his arm slung around Remus’ shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” Remus grunts, heaving your roommate through the entryway. He tries to send you a smile of greeting, but it’s more of a well-meaning grimace. “He just needs to drink some water.” 

“I won,” Sirius says giddily, stumbling over and grabbing your arm. “I outdrank James Potter.” 

There’s a nervous edge to the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. “That’s great, Sirius, congratulations.” You cast an alarmed look towards Remus. “You all had a competition?”

Remus shakes his head. “They had a competition.”

“I won,” James says suddenly, picking his head up as if revived from a deep sleep. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, I’m the winner.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You can’t even walk, Potter.” 

“I can,” James defends himself, and slips his arm from around Remus’ shoulder. Both you and Remus put your hands out cautiously like when a toddler takes its first steps, but James totters safely to the couch, leaning against it like he’s just finished a marathon and directing a smug smile towards Sirius. “Suck it, Pads.” 

Sirius’ lips curl impishly. His unsteady gaze settles on Remus, still hovering by the door. “Gotta get home to do that.” 

“Alright,” Remus says quickly, stepping forward to take his boyfriend by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. “We’re gonna go home and get to bed—to sleep.” He’s blushing something fierce, and you do your absolute best not to smile. “Prongs.” James looks up from where he’s been toying with the fabric of your couch throw. “Drink some water, and then go to sleep, yeah?” Remus raises his brows, waiting for confirmation, and James presses a solemn hand to his heart. 

“Your wish is my command, Moony-boy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes but turns to go, sending you a quick goodnight with an apology embedded in his voice before he shuts the door behind him. You lock it, and turn back around to find James performing a lazy somersault over the back of the couch and onto the cushions. 

“James,” you laugh, and he smiles up at you like he doesn’t know what’s so funny but is happy to be a part of it anyway, “do you want to come into the kitchen to have some water?”

James turns pensive. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Mhm.” 

“Then sure.” He hops up a bit too fast, and has to put his arms out in front of him to regain his balance. 

You take his forearm in your hand, knowing you won’t be able to support his weight if he really falls but hoping you can at least slow his descent, and begin walking him toward the kitchen. “Are you feeling dizzy?” you ask him.

James hums. “A bit. But in a good way, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway. “Well,” you say with certainty you can’t feel, “that’s good. Chill here for a second, okay?” You prop him up against the counter, and James melts against it instantly in that easy way he has, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles in front of him. The edge of the counter has to be digging into his back, but James makes it look like the most comfortable spot in the flat. 

You start to grab a glass from the cabinet but then think the better of it, opting for a less destructible plastic cup. You fill it with icy water from the tap. 

“Alright.” You pass it to him. “Don’t drink it too fast.” 

James takes the cup with a smile that’s really much sweeter than your tiny gesture warrants. Then he proceeds to slide the rest of the way down the counter, until he’s sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the floor. After a moment, you decide to join him, crossing your legs under you and letting your back rest beside his. The floor just seems like the place to be right now. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, James seems content to sit in silence, sipping at his water. Neither of you are looking at each other, or really anywhere in particular. It’s definitely a Friday night, more of the noise of voices and traffic making their way up to your flat than you hear on most days of the week, but your home itself is quiet. The light in the kitchen is dim, coming in from the lamp you’ve left on in the living room, and your body relaxes instinctively in the peaceful dark. 

James has nearly emptied the cup when he says, “Hey,” as if he’s just remembered something important.

You look at him. “What?”

“There’s no ice in here.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did you want ice? I can put some in, I just thought you preferred drinks without ice.” 

Even in the dim light, you can make out enough of James’ eyes to see the brown in them go absolutely molten. He turns toward you more fully, his shoulder and cheek squished up against the cabinets. “Aww, you knew.”

You laugh at him, his smushed cheek pushing his glasses up on his face and his bottom lip jutting out slightly. The effect is that he looks both worryingly drunk and decidedly endearing. “Of course I know,” you say. “We’re roommates. I’m bound to pick up on things.” 

Your words do nothing to curb James’ adoration. “Still, you noticed,” he says, maudlin. “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The word resounds in your head like the happy chime of a bell. James is always calling you that, but usually it seems thrown away, a light little endearment he tacks onto his addresses without thinking. This feels different. It lingers on his tongue like caramel, soft and sticky sweet. Sweetheart. 

“Of course,” you say again, and you’re grateful for the poor lighting that’s hiding your blush. “Ready to go to bed?”

James looks at you like you’ve asked him to solve a calculus equation, thick brows knitting together. Maybe it’s the endearment still ringing in your head, but you really want to smooth the crease from between them with your thumb. You don’t. 

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” you admit. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I could be.” And then he’s hauling himself up, an overly complicated process that involves getting his feet underneath him while he’s already using the counter to pull himself off the floor. You have to bite back a smile as you watch, and when he’s done James extends a hand to you. As if you’re the one who needs help. 

You take it but don’t actually put any of your weight on him as you stand, grabbing his empty cup from the counter. James’ hand is big, engulfing yours easily, and the condensation from the cool water still lingers on his palm. He doesn’t let go as you start towards his bedroom. You tell yourself it’d be mean to pull away on your own. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, once again like he’s discovered something fascinating. “I haven’t even asked—how’s your night been?”

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop laughing around James. “It’s been good, thanks. Not as eventful as yours, I take it.” 

James hums in unhappy affirmation. “Lucky you.”

“Well, seems like you got the true night-out experience.” You bring him to sit on his bed, bending to untie his shoes for him and setting them by the door. “Do you wanna sleep in that or change into pajamas?” you ask, fighting the urge to tack on the honey that pushes at your lips. 

There’s no deliberation there. “Pajama pants, at least. I can’t wear jeans in bed, m’not a monster.”

You smile to yourself, locating a pair of pajama pants on the floor and holding them up for him to see. “These okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You toss them to him. James starts to strip, and you turn around quickly, going into the bathroom. “So, aside from the drinking contest, did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says lightly. You fill the cup with water from James’ sink and find a bottle of ibuprofen in the drawer underneath. “It wasn’t bad. Remus is so busy lately, it’s good to get to see him at all, and beating Sirius is always fun.” He gives a little laugh. “He’s such a sore loser.” 

“He seemed to think he’d won,” you say, your tone teasingly dubious. 

A harrumph. “If Remus doesn’t set him straight on that, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckle.

“You’ll tell ‘em, won’t you?”

“For sure. Do you have your pants on yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You go back into the bedroom to find James comfy under the covers, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me to tell you, sorry.” 

“No worries.” You smile. He looks so sweet like this, curls splayed out around his head on the pillow the way a kid draws rays around the sun. You set the cup and pill bottle on his nightstand, using your proximity to study his face. His pupils are huge and unfocussed, and the smile he’s aiming at you is a bit too dopey for your liking. “You said you were dizzy…do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“No.” James starts to push himself up as if to make his point, then decides against it, resting his head against the edge of the mattress with a tiny grimace. “Maybe.” 

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, grabbing a wastebasket from under his desk. “Here, I’m going to put this by the bed just in case, okay? And you’ve got water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.” 

James doesn’t respond. He’s looking at you dazedly. 

“James.” You tap his cheek lightly. “Do you understand? You need to use the wastebasket if you feel sick.”

His hand emerges from beneath the covers, fingers braceleting your wrist. “Stay with me,” he mumbles. You’re glad he’s definitely too out of it to feel the quick bumping of your pulse beneath his fingers. When you hesitate a second too long, James tightens his grip beseechingly. “Please, sweetheart?” 

There it is again. Your brain buzzes in response. 

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing a soothing touch against the inside of his forearm, and James releases you. “I was watching a movie before you got home. Want to finish it?”

He agrees, and you go across the hall, retrieving your laptop. You climb over him on the bed, pretending not to feel the brush of a big hand across your hip as though meant to steady you. You settle your laptop between the two of you and press play on the movie.

James leans over, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re always watching this,” he murmurs. “You don’t get tired of it?”

“Not really,” you reply. “It’s my favorite. But if you are, I can change it.”

He makes a humming sound, and you feel the vibrations in your shoulder. “No, s’alright. Bet you can quote half the film, though, can’t you?” 

You grin. “I’m scared,” you say, in time with the actress on your screen. “I don’t wanna get hurt.” You can feel James smiling, his cheek smushing against your shoulder. You lower your voice into a gruff mockery of the male actor’s intonation. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

James makes a soft sound of amusement. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. 

You fall into an easy silence, blue light cast over your features as the familiar scenes play out quietly on your laptop. You keep sneaking glances at James, thinking he’s either about to fall asleep or be sick, but he’s watching the movie contentedly, head a solid but welcome weight on your shoulder. He’s evidently decided to discard the shirt he’d worn to the bar, and the skin of his bare shoulder is warm where it presses against your arm. He adjusts his head a little, and his curls tickle the underside of your jaw. You don’t know how he gets them so soft. Not through any strict regimen or product, apparently. One good thing about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s never the one who runs out the hot water; he’s in and out of the shower in ten minutes every time. And yet, if you look closely enough, you can usually find at least two or three perfect coils in his hair. Genetics, you suppose. James was blessed with a good lot of them. 

The movie’s not half done before you’re yawning, your eyelids feeling like someone’s sewn fishing weights into them. You try not to shift, but your shoulders rise with the involuntary inhale, and James looks up at you. You yawn again, covering your mouth with one hand as a tear forms in the corner of your eye, squished out when you blink. You wipe it away. 

“Wait,” James says. You go still, looking over at him curiously as he adjusts against the headboard of his bed, pushing himself further upright. He tilts his head. The back of his index finger brushes gently under your lashes. “You always get teary at night,” he says softly. 

You know you should get out from under his touch, but you can’t make yourself. “I tear up a lot when I yawn.” 

Just thinking about it has you yawning again, and James takes your face in his hand, catching the tear that falls from one eye. 

“Don’t cry,” he begs you. “If you cry, I’ll cry.” 

You take his wrist in your hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m not crying, James. I’m just tired.” 

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss, feather-light, just next to your eye. You freeze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay, m’sorry. You’re tired? Wanna go to sleep?”

You have to clear your throat to make sure your voice comes out right. “Sure.” It’s still a bit hoarse. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

James takes your hand, a willing captive between two of his as he draws it into his lap. He settles his head back onto your shoulder. “Okay. You’re too nice to me.” 

“I’m not,” you say, before you can think the better of it. “You’re the nice one.” 

James only hums.

You swallow. “Goodnight.” 

You’re waiting for a response, the movie on your laptop just now getting to the scene where the love interests give in and confess their feelings for each other, when you feel a wet spot forming near the collar of your shirt. Slowly, careful not to jostle him, you tilt your head to look down at the source of the drool puddle. 

James already asleep.

[fandomfics]

Animal

One shot

Pairing: Superman/Clark Kent x Fem Reader

Description: When you try to hide from your creepy coworker you find yourself in a tight space with a handsome journalist you've had your eye on for a while.

Fanfic Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️

18+ MDNI

Locked in tight space, grinding, kissing, groping, oral (F receiving), semi public sex, caught in the act, teasing, unprotected p in v, not proof read

All smut babyyy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hey doll, where ya goin?" Jackson calls after you. You walk quickly away from the break room through the maze of halls trying to lose him as soon as possible, then you see an open door. A closet. He is about to round the corner behind you when you slip in and close the door quietly.

"Hey, what are you-" before another word slips out of whoever is with you, you clasp a hand over their mouth and shush them with a finger hovering over your lip.

"where'd ya go? Let's just chat about this, okay? We can handle this like adults..." Jackson walks down the hall past the door and when you can't hear him any longer your body relaxes with a sigh.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You choke out as you drop your hand from Clark Kent's mouth. "Fuck, I -"

He can clearly see the distress on your face as you repeatedly apologize, on the verge of tears.

"Hey, it's okay," his voice is soft, "what's going on?"

"That asshole groped me in the break room. I just needed to get away from him..."

"It's okay, he's gone, you're safe-" he begins before you interrupt him.

"Oh, I know I'm safe. I ran before I snapped and beat his ass to a bloody pulp."

A look of realization comes across his face and he chuckles. "I see. we still have a problem though..."

"Yeah, what's that?" You say as you turn and try the knob, the door doesn't budge.

"We're stuck." You turn to see his face scrunched with a small knowing smile.

"At least I'm stuck with you and not that fucking animal." You scoff.

Suddenly he stalks forward and you push your back up against the door and the two of you are toe to toe.

"You think I'm not an animal?" A shiver runs down your spine as he continues to speak, his usual chipper demeanor and wide smile gone. "I heard you talking to your friends about me last week. About what you'd let me do to you. Sounded pretty animalistic to me."

"Oh, you uh...you heard that huh?"

"I did, we got time to kill if you're still interested."

Your hands shoot up to his face and your lips crash into his, he slots his leg between yours, and his hands find your hips.

He pulls away to catch his breath, "You sure?"

"Hell yes." You reply panting.

His lips find yours again in a frenzied kiss, his hands move your hips to grind on his leg and you groan at the friction. Hurried hands rip buttons from their place and you feel your soft skin press against his hardened muscles. He trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, you throw your head back and he immediately uses the opening to bite the junction at your neck and shoulder.

Your breath hitches in surprise as the sensation sends electricity coursing over your skin. The slight pain heightens your senses and you grind harder against him. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

He immediately stops and pulls away, a wicked grin on his face. An exasperated groan leaves your throat before you beg for more. He drops to his knees and snakes his hands up your skirt, his fingers find the hem of your panties and he quickly pulls them off.

"Look at all this," He gloats as he examines them. "I think I'm gonna need a taste." His words shake you to your core and another groan escapes you.

"This won't do at all, you're gonna have to keep quiet for me, don't want to be interrupted before I even get the chance to fuck you, do you?"

You whimper at the thought and he shakes his head. "Open." You obey, opening your mouth so he can muffle your cries with your panties.

"Good girl." He pats your cheek with his large hand. He guides your hand to lift your skirt so he has an unobstructed view of you as he buries his face in your weeping cunt. His tongue expertly explores your folds causing you to involuntarily buck into his face. He moans into you sending another wave of pleasure through you. Your free hand weaves into his hair and you push him into you harder as you roll your hips forward. You suddenly feel a finger probe your entrance and you encourage the movement

"Yes please, fuck." Your muffled whisper breathless. Slowly he works you open, adding fingers until he's pumping and curling three inside you just right.

"Please let me cum!" You whine through the fabric in your mouth.

"Go ahead." He states simply and you finally get your release. He works you through your orgasm until your twitching as you ride the last of it out. He removes his sopping fingers and licks them clean. Your legs wobble as you try and catch your breath and he stands to support you by the waist.

"let me know when you're ready for round two." He growls in your ear.

"Fuck me, please." You rip the panties from your mouth and the words come out without thinking, a sinister smile adorns his lips.

"Hands and knees." He orders. You're almost ashamed at how quickly you turn around and drop to the floor, but the orgasm that just ripped through you leaves you dumb and wanting.

You hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, you begin to turn your head when he catches you.

"Eyes forward." Another simple command that shoots straight to your core. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you push back unwilling to wait any longer.

You gasp when he fills you completely, he chuckles before pulling back and snapping forward hard. His pace is staggering and leaves you drooling as you both chase your high. The obscene sounds of skin on skin mask the approaching footsteps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, don't stop." You choke out.

"Shit, me too." He groans out.

Just as you both start to climax the door opens and Jackson stands in the doorway. Clark keeps fucking you through until you're both finished maintaining eye contact with Jackson until he slams the door shut.

Panting you both collapse to the floor next to each other and laugh at the look on Jackson's face.

"We didn't get to everything on your list. Might have to do this again sometime." He quips with a wink.

[cutielando]

Hello love, how is everything going?🫂

I'm the one from the Jay in the truck fic, which was amazing, you made someone very happy today (someone is me)😚🩷

If you have time you could write one where Jay dates the reader but he is a few years younger than him, but he's so proud to have met a girl like her, maybe someone on the team makes playful comments about it because he is tough in part but it is as if he was always so soft with her that they come to not know him. maybe they even see a couple of hickeys on him but he looks proud because he is LITERALLY so in love that he kisses the ground where she steps and he loves that they know he has a girl, a little pretentious about it🤭

Maybe also after a difficult case he looks for her because she is his safe space.🫶🏼🥹

This is a bit messy but I'm not good at putting ideas together, I apologize, also english is not my first language in case this is something difficult to understand.🥹🫶🏼

Also sorry that there are so many haha you can take them if you want or just let them pass if you don't feel comfortable, sending you love!💌

comfort person | jay halstead

synopsis: in which he worships you

my masterlist

Jay couldn't believe his luck, in all honesty.

Ever since he could remember, his luck when it came to love and personal relationships was close to being non-existent. His relationship history was excellent proof of that.

But everything seemed to change for the better when he met you.

You had met in a bar, out of all places. Hit it off right away, chatted over a drink, promised to stay in touch.

And oh boy, had you stayed in touch.

You were wary of hanging out with Jay at first, mainly because of the dangers of his job (that he sometimes reminded you of) and because of the age difference.

5 years was not that much, if you were being realistic, but it was still something. You were afraid that you wouldn’t be the woman he was looking for, maybe his expectations in life didn’t align with yours.

Thankfully, you were very wrong about that.

And so, you found yourself together, 1 year later, happier and more in love than ever. Much to the joy of his team, who made it their mission to tease the fuck out of Jay every single day at the precinct.

Especially when they would notice certain marks on his neck after a wild night in bed.

Such an instance was right after the team had finished a very hard case involving a child kidnapping. When Jay got home, you could tell he was absolutely hammered and needed to unwind, so you did the thing you knew would help him out.

The next morning at the precinct, you went with him to say hi to the team, but you got teased instead.

“Woah, did an animal attack you last night?” Adam asked Jay as soon as he got a good look at his colleague.

Jay furrowed his eyebrows, while you were trying to hide your blush in his bicep.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, checking his arms for any kind of marks.

Adam smirked and pointed to his neck, which immediately made your boyfriend realize what he was talking about.

Even though you couldn’t see it because you were hiding your face into his arm, you could tell Jay was blushing furiously while being teased by his close friend.

“Don’t you dare say a word” Jay threatened Adam, who could only laugh at the situation between the two of you.

“I’m gonna go now” you murmured to Jay, quickly standing on your tiptoes to peck his cheek before basically running out of the precinct.

Jay could only blame Adam for your quick departure, much faster than what he had been hoping.

“She certainly keeps you active” Ruzek said once he came back from their break room with a cup of coffee.

“Shut up, Ruz. You’re just jealous you’re not getting any” Jay commented, making Adam act offended.

"I'm just saying, she's sure keeping you busy and fit" Adam continued, giving Jay a sly smile.

"She makes me happy" Jay confessed, smiling to himself when he thought about you and your relationship.

The conversation died with that, a new case putting a pause on Jay's thoughts about you for the time being.

Jay hadn't expected the case to be as rough as it was, and he felt awful by the time he got home to you. He was tired, his limbs were sore and his heart ached. The only thing he wanted in that moment was the sole comfort of your presence, your comforting hugs and just quality time spent away from his job.

When you heard the keys in the lock, you excitedly ran to the front door to welcome him, but your smile was instantly wiped off your face when you saw just how broken and tired he was.

"Rough day?" you asked as you cautiously watched him taking off his shoes and hanging his coat on the hanger.

"Yeah, got a tough care after you came home" he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before going into the bedroom, placing his gun and badge into his safe before coming back out and joining you on the couch.

He melted into the soft couch, his hand finding yours instantly. You felt for him, not even wanting to imagine how tough his job must get on the hard days, like this one.

You moved Jay's head off the back of the couch and maneuvered him until he was resting his head into your lap, your fingers softly running through his soft hair.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the serene atmosphere that had settled between the two of you.

His eyes opened and looked at you, dozens of emotions swimming behind his irises. The only thoughts that occupied his head were how lucky he was to have you, how cared for he was and how much he loved you. He cherished you more than you could ever know, especially in moments like this one, when he is reminded of just how grateful he should be for the life he has.

"I love you" he whispered softly, making you smile at him and lean down to peck his lips, your free hand caressing the side of his face softly.

"I love you more" you whispered back, licking your lips.

And so, the entire evening was spent exactly like that, whispering love confessions to each other like they were a secret to the entire world.

But you loved every second of it.

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[merlucide]

The matchmaker has found a match……

@thebestsetter your match is….

ISAGI YOICHI!

x kindhearted, fun, exciting, attentive, vb player, fem!reader

RAAAAAAAAGGHHH

OKAY, NOW HEAR ME OUT BOO.

Yes, he’s basic, yes he’s bland

but

BUT, he’s caring, responsible, competitive and a silly lil guy!!

Idk what trope but either Mutual Feelings or Childhood friends :3

tbh I think you’d like be like his ideal type too??

anywho-

You’d be like doing your own thing and he’d just stare at you a think ‘She’s so pretty..’

and then he realized ‘oh no, I like her!!’

He would find every excuse to be around you, oh you need someone to help you carry for science project? Well what do you know! Isagi is already picking it up!

Need some one to spike? Isagi is literally Hinata wym (his spikes are awful, but you teach him how to do it and then becomes decently good actually!)

He confesses on accident lmao

He had finally, FINALLY, mustered the courage to ask you out!!! After literal YEARS of pining after you. 💀

He was supposed to tell you to meet him at the fair, because he had something he wanted to tell you (confess) but instead of

’Hey- We are still good for the fair right? I have something I wanna tell you there :-)”

he said..

”I’m gonna ask you out at the fair- you’re coming still right?”

sigh, Isagi, Isagi, Isagi

and you are just like ‘??? Did I hear that right??”

and it takes him a second to realize what the flip he just said

he just turns all red and is stuttering out incoherent nonsense

he wanted to die so bad

and you’re also like terribly flustered and caught off guard by the sudden confession

You had a feeling he liked you, but you weren’t sure if he really did feel the same!!

you just awkwardly-nervously tell him you feel the same and answer his original question with a soft ‘yes’

and he’s just like ?!?!??

i’m sensing a theme here..

He actually, genuinely, CANNOT believe YOU like him

like WHAT. This pretty, smart, funny, amazing, perfect, girl- actually likes me?!?

‘..so like …. Um … are we like… dating .. now ?’ is all he says

Real smooth Isagi, real smooth 😐

You then ask if this fair is a date now

which he’s like ‘I guess it is’

You both do the awkward goodbye and he goes straight to the boys bathroom and splash’s water on his face

He was genuinely tweaking

And that’s how you two became a couple! :3

The fair date was really fun, but super awkward bc, Isagi 🙂‍↕️

He tried winning you those big stuffed animals, and failed miserably 💀

He really wanted to get it for you too— then you ask if you can try it

You win on the first try.

hes just like ‘🧍‍♀️’

super embarrassed lmaooooo- but super impressed

Also he like… wants to hold you hand… but is like overthinking it so bad

‘Is it too soon??’ ‘Yeah it’s too soon’ ‘Would she even like holding my hand??’ ‘No she wouldn’t’ —-

Doesnt end up holding your hand 😔

You both end your first date on the ferris wheel

You both just chat about wtv, and that you didn’t think he’d like you

and he’s like ‘WHAT’

After he walks you home he immediately changes your contact name “Y/N-san” to “my girlfriend y/n💙”

Now! General HCs! :3

Isagi is such a good hype man ong, like you’re not feeling your best? Well Isagi is gonna make you feel like a thousand bucks!!

He thinks you’re the most perfect person to exist and cannot fathom you thinking you’re anything else but that

super sweet when comforting too, he’ll either hold your hand, hold your shoulders, or actually hold you when he comforts you.

Btw he gets super pumped up at your vb games, he’s like wearing your school/jersey colors and cheering for you in the bleachers

At first he didn’t really understand how the game worked, since the only sport that exists to him is soccer 💀

Really likes playing volleyball with you! He’s really good at digging and passing and so-so at spiking. He’s STUNNING at setting, because of yours truly 😚 like yes, I taught him that 🥹

hes got a mean serve though 😋

Now!

for the affectionate scale! Id say he’s about a 8/10 tbh

Hes like a clingy cat who always wants to lay on your lap lmao

always holding your hand, ALWAYS.

is a sucker for cheek kisses omg ><

He gets all blushy-n-gushy when you kiss his cheeks (anywhere really, but cheek kisses are his fav!!)

He gets soooo flustered when you give him affection or he gives you affection

eventually he gets used to it but he still blushes when you give him some love <33

He loves the simple hugs :) He loves squishing his cheek against you shoulder/neck and rub circles around you waist, while you massage his neck and blue locks (haha pun intended ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °) )

Loves laying on your thighs obviously 😌 loves anything with your thighs tbh

His ideal date is probably going to see a movie or just walking around wherever and getting dinner 🙃

He will literally do whatever you want — so just tell him whatchu wanna do and he’ll be on board!!

Really appreciates it when you come to his games <33 it makes him feel so loved and valued <33

also feeds his ego 💀 in his mind he’s like ‘haha yeah, my gf came to my game, these losers don’t even have a gf 😌’

super cheesy btw- but it’s like the best kind of cheesy

Brings you pretty roses :) and likes to buy you keychains whenever he finds one he thinks you’ll like

love any gift you wanna give him, but really melts at the heartfelt ones

help I really yapped on this one 😭

anywho I think you guys would be real cute :)

I ship fr fr😽

hope you like it! 😭💗

(also did see your inbox question but by the time I got it I was literally done with the HCs 😭😭 …. HOPE YOU STILL LIKE IT??)

runner ups!

Kuroo Tetsuro

Karasu Tabito

Bokuto Kotaro (HEAR ME OUT..)

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 2/12)

hiii here's these two again, enjoy!!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie still hates you, you're way too nice, and gareth fucked up big time

contains: enemies to lover trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, reader gets injured (nothing crazy), eddie hooking up with someone that's not reader, mean eddie, sexual themes, a glimpse of needy n sad eddie, mild violence (eddie punches someone), and Eddie being nosey <3

word count: 5.6k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie can’t do it.

He can’t fucking stand you. He hates that you’re everywhere, always around, always lingering— like a fucking hawk— just silently watching and waiting for one of them to fuck up. And he hates that you carry that fucking journal everywhere, always jotting down notes about whatever bullshit you write about— and he’s sure it isn’t any good either way because most of the time, the band does the same shit every day. There’s nothing for you to write about. They do a show, hang out backstage, catch wind of some party, stay out until they can’t physically walk anymore, and crash as soon as they get to the hotel. 

It’s the same shit. Yet, you’re always writing something down as if something new has happened— as if it’s something intriguing and eye-catching. 

You barely talk for the first few days; you just watch and observe, and Eddie thinks this must be how animals at the zoo feel— on display and putting up some fascinating show. He hates it.

After the third show, you start to loosen around the edges and start actually talking, like a normal human being. You talk to Jeff the most, laugh at his shitty jokes and ask him questions about songs and lines he’s written in past songs, and Eddie hates that. He hates watching you sit next to Jeff and scribble in your journal as Jeff strums out a new hook. 

He hates that whenever he brings you up to Jeff and makes some snide comment about you, Jeff never joins in— just shrugs and says, ‘She’s not too bad, actually.’

As if Eddie would ever believe that.

Gareth hardly pays any mind to you; he's too busy checking out chicks and just… being Gareth, but you’ve talked to him on multiple occasions. Eddie’s caught glimpses of you two chatting at rehearsals or in the green room. You even sat with him at breakfast the other day, and Eddie— Eddie almost blew a gasket because that was his fucking seat.

You’re ruining everything, and nobody seems to notice except for Eddie, and it’s driving him nuts.

“Dude, you’re gonna scare her away if you keep glaring at her like that,” Jeff mumbles, turning back to his guitar as he runs a dust cloth over the neck of the instrument. 

They’re in the studio today because there’s no show tonight, and against all of Eddie’s wishes, Richie still invited you to come sit in for their session. Eddie watches through the glass of the sound booth as you settle in on the brown couch, pulling out that stupid journal and a pen, mindlessly clicking it a few times before writing a note. Ridiculous. 

Eddie glares at Jeff and works the gum in his mouth as he pulls a face, “Good. She can blow off the face of the earth for all I care.” He grumbles, sitting down in the metal chair beside Jeff. 

Jeff looks at him, raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and shakes his head, “She’s not going anywhere, man. You’re gonna fuck it up if you keep being so… hostile toward her.” He points out. Eddie leans back in his chair, pulling out a box of cigarettes and sparking up. “I’m not gonna be the one to fuck it up,” Eddie mumbles through smoke, “You guys are practically feeding her all the information she needs on a silver fucking platter. She’s a goddamn shark.” 

Jeff scoffs and says nothing more as he continues cleaning his guitar. Eddie glances at you and watches you talk to the producer, smiling and laughing at something that Eddie can’t hear because the mic is off and the door is closed. 

Aside from how annoying and creepishly lurk-y you are, Eddie can admit you’re pretty. You have a pretty face, pretty smile, pretty hair, a bright look in your eyes that Eddie can’t stand because you look at the rest of the band like they hung the fucking moon when they speak. You look at everyone as if they’re so important, and Eddie thinks that’s dumb. 

He glances at Jeff, watches him silently for a moment, and glances back at you, takes a hit of his cigarette before speaking, “You like her?” he asks.

Jeff glimpses at Eddie and laughs with a shake of his head, “Isn’t that precisely what you’re pissed about?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, like,” he kicks the heel of his shoe into the floor, “Do you wanna fuck her?”

Jeff pauses his task and watches as Eddie puffs on his cigarette. “I have a girlfriend, Eddie.” He reminds the boy. Eddie glances at him and scoffs, “That chick from Chicago? Thought that was just for fun.” He responds. 

Eddie remembers the girl from a few weeks back, remembers Jeff sneaking her on the bus while they had dinner. He didn’t know they were serious.

Jeff shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, “No, man. She’s come to like every show— and her name is Naomi; she’s not a chick.”

Eddie grunts in response, burning to the end of his cigarette when Jeff stands up and nudges him with his foot, “Just talk to her, dude. She’s not as bad as you think she is, and she asks good questions— actual questions, about the music and shit. None of that,” he waves a hand in gesture, “stupid shit we get from reporters. She’s good. Just try.”

Jeff leaves Eddie to mill about it and finish off cigarette, snuffing it out in the ashtray sitting on the amp. Eddie doesn’t believe Jeff one bit; he thinks you’re a liar who’s mastered the art of manipulation and has weaseled your way into gaining his friends' trust. He doesn’t believe you are here for the music, as Jeff had said; he thinks— knows— that you’re here to find the cracks.

You’re here to find the cuts and bruises and press into them so you can tear them apart piece by piece. A starved monster, preying on his band for some sick and twisted story to feed the media so you can climb the ladder of your industry. Eddie has met and knows people like you, and he can call your bluff from a mile away.

He doesn’t believe Jeff. But he does, however, know how to play your game. 

The next day is show day— the fifth show of the residency, and Eddie is in a good mood. He woke up with a girl in his bed, got high, went for a short walk to a nearby cafe, and even signed a few autographs for some lovely fans. On top of that, you haven’t shown up for rehearsals yet, and Eddie thinks the world is working in his favor today if you skip.

He’s playful today. He jumps on Gareth’s back and makes him run down the rows of the arena, screaming and hollering like wild animals. He and Jeff take Richie’s golf cart and go for a spin backstage, giggling when the security chases them and tells them speeding backstage is prohibited. They don’t listen, though; Eddie ignores everyone’s warnings and keeps hauling ass down the nearly empty hallways, swerving around boxes and equipment like a madman.

And Eddie may be mean sometimes; he may push people's buttons for the hell of it and do things he knows he shouldn’t just to get a reaction out of it, but Eddie isn’t cruel. He isn’t a psychopath who likes hurting people, so he doesn’t mean to speed past you and spook you badly enough to stumble into a stack of road cases.

Eddie saw you, and he tried to warn you, yelled out for you to move out of the way, and even honked, but you had a pair of headphones stuffed over your ears so that you couldn’t hear the squealing wheels of the golf cart or Eddie’s warning. He almost took you out. Almost. But he didn’t because he swerved at the last second, and you panicked and stepped back, stumbling on the heel of your shoe and falling onto the cold cement floor, slamming your back against the black boxes.

Eddie curses and comes to a screeching halt, parking the golf cart and following Jeff as he jogs over to you, quickly asking if you’re okay and helping you to sit up. As you speak, your face is twisted in confusion, wincing and sitting up, “I’m fine, I just— I just fell, it’s fine.”

Eddie watches from a few feet back as Jeff helps you stand up, face pinching in an expression of pain when you put your weight onto your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t believe it for a second. “I think you might need to get that checked—” Eddie cuts Jeff off and speaks the first thought that comes to his mind, “Why didn’t you move out of the way?”

You look at him, anger replacing your look of pain as you glare at Eddie. You grip the band of your headphones and wave it at him, “Because I didn’t fucking hear you, jackass.” You snap. “What, you couldn’t see the big ass machine hurling your way?”

“No,” you seethe, “You shouldn’t have been driving that fast anyways; this isn’t my fault. The least you could do is say fucking sorry.” You spat. And Eddie just thinks you’re a brat. Before Eddie can respond with an even bitchier response, Jeff is cutting in with a wave of his hands, “Okay, this is fucking stupid,” he scoffs, “just let me drive you to medic so you can get checked.”

Eddie doesn’t even bother helping Jeff get you to the golf cart; he simply watches as you fake your limp all the way to the vehicle and thank Jeff for helping you get in. Jeff looks back to Eddie and raises an eyebrow, “Are you coming, man?” 

Eddie wouldn’t willingly spend a minute with you if someone paid him to do it. 

He shakes his head with a scoff and tells them to go on, he’ll meet them at the stage later on, and Jeff takes off without another word.

“Did you try to hit the journalist with a fucking golf cart?”

Eddie’s good mood is long gone. 

After the whole golf cart fiasco, Eddie took his time walking around backstage and burning through cigarettes before finding himself in the room filled with snacks and drinks. He’s standing at the table filled with chips and sodas when Richie storms in and starts causing a goddamn scene.

“What—” “You know what I’m talking about.” Richie snaps. Eddie’s face twists in annoyance, “I didn’t try to fucking hit her; she didn’t move out of the goddamn way because she’s an idiot,” Eddie grumbles, returning to his task of sifting through the different brands of chips. Eddie doesn’t believe you’re actually hurt. That pathetic fall was as minor as a fall can get, and he thinks Jeff and anyone else who believes your shitty acting skills is dumber than a rock. 

Richie snatches the bag of chips out of Eddie’s hand and tosses them onto the table, ignoring Eddie’s protest as he speaks, “She sprained her fucking ankle, man.”

Eddie scoffs, “She’s faking it, Richie; anybody with brains can see that from a mile away.” He rolls his eyes. Richie looks at Eddie as if he’s lost his mind, as if Eddie is the worst villain to ever grace the goddamn planet, “You’re fucked up,” and Eddie’s stomach twists in some weird way he can’t explain. 

“You have some serious fucking issues, man. That girl did nothing to you, and you treat her like shit.” Richie spits, and Eddie hates how his throat feels tight, like someone shoved a golf ball down his throat. “Get over yourself.”

Richie leaves Eddie in the empty room, silent and, against Eddie’s wishes, feeling like the shittiest man alive. 

Eddie’s good mood feels like a dream now.

He’s silent throughout rehearsals. He sings his parts half-assed and plays his solos half-assed, too. You watch from the side of the stage, propped up on one of the road cases to take the weight off your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t even glance in your direction the entire time. He avoids you at all costs, leaving the room when you walk in, going the other direction you’re walking in, and even skipping lunch to avoid crossing paths. 

You’ve been like a ghost all day; everywhere Eddie goes, you’re somehow there, walking with a shitty limp as if trying to rub it into Eddie’s face that, ‘You did this. This is your fault.’ and Eddie can’t stand it. By the time the doors open to the arena, Eddie is more than ready to finish the show and steer clear of all traces of you.

You watched the show on the TV in the dressing room, silently snacking on a bag of Ritz crackers with your foot propped up on the coffee table beside the couch. The medic advised you to avoid putting pressure on your ankle for the next few days so you couldn’t have your usual front-row view of the show. 

The boys do good; they perform a new song they’re working on, and the crowd seems to have loved it. As usual, they get up to their ritual backstage antics, pregaming for whatever party they’ll attend, loud and obnoxious music, and cheering on whatever drinking game they’ve made up. You’re silently writing in your journal, updating the last entry on what you’ve witnessed today. Interpretations on the new music, drabbles on what you and Gareth briefly discussed about his childhood, and quick notes on whatever comes to mind while writing.

You hardly notice Eddie stumbling through the dressing room door until you hear him bumping into the side table with a curse. You look up, silently watching as he looks around the room, searching for something you’re unsure of. You try to keep your voice level to not scare him, but he is startled either way, “What are you looking for?”

His eyes are low, puffy around the edges from the alcohol he’d tossed back earlier, hair tousled with curly strands clinging to his lips. His lips are slick, swollen, and red, clothes askew on his lean frame. His jeans are unbuttoned, belt clinking as he sways a bit, licking his lips as he stammers, “Uh… my uh, my jacket—” he blinks, stumbling to lean against the door and blinking hard, “M’looking for my jacket.”

Your eyebrows raise as you watch him, the disheveled and captivating mess he is, bleary eyes gazing at you through a cloud of eyeshadow and whiskey. You breathe and point to the chair in front of the vanity, “It’s over there.”

His gaze follows your lead, landing on his strewn jacket, cursing as he walks across the room. You busy yourself with your journal, picking up where you’d left off. You can hear Eddie rustling behind you, and you try to avoid glancing back at him, but you fail, glancing in time to watch as he leans forward into the mirror to tug at misplaced strands of his hair. 

He’s silent for a moment before clearing his throat, glancing back at you through the mirror, “I’m uh… I’m sorry about,” he gestures to your elevated foot, forgetting you’re not even facing him, and rubbing the back of his hand to rub his nose and sniffling, “About your foot… Was really shitty of me.”

You glance back at him, a ghost of a smile gracing your lips, “Thank you, Eddie. I appreciate your apology.”

Eddie scoffs, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and shoving a stick between his lips with quivering fingers, “Yeah, well, that’s the first and last apology you’ll ever get from me so…” you silently watch as he lights his cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke and glancing at you through the mirror, “cherish it.” 

You quietly sigh and shift in your seat, ignoring his remark, “You going out tonight?” You ask.

You watch as he steps away from the vanity and walks over to the couch, plopping down on the farthest side from you with a deep sigh, “That’s the routine.” He mumbles around a cloud of smoke.

You nod, an uncomfortable silence settling over the two of you as you continue writing. Eddie is slumped down in his seat, quietly puffing on his cigarette as he gazes at you through low lids, “What are you writing?”

You look at him; pen paused over the sentence you’d been writing as you tilt your head, “I’m working on my piece… you know, the piece you’re starring in.” Eddie grumbles in response with a single nod of his head, and his eyes are so low you’d almost think he’s falling asleep if it weren’t for his determination to finish his cigarette. 

“Why— why haven’t you asked me anything?” Eddie asks.

You look at him, doing your best to keep a neutral expression as you fold your hands over the paper of your notebook, “I wasn’t under the impression you wanted to be… bothered.”

Eddie glances at you, scoffing, and you remind yourself that you’ve already somehow made the man despise you, so it’d be better to hold your tongue, opting not to remind him of the shitty attitude he’s had since you met. “I’m part of the band, aren’t I?” He shrugs, picking at the loose threads of his ripped jeans. “Shouldn’t I have as much coverage as… Jeff?” He mumbles, and you think he might be under the impression that you can’t hear him, but you do either way.

Your eyebrows raise, and you shift in your seat once again, “Well… would you like me to ask you some questions?”

Eddie is more gentle when he is drunk, you think. More pliable, softer. The stone-hard deflective shield he has thrown up for you has withered beneath the alcohol. Where his eyes are usually cold and sharp, they are now softer and telling— of what, you’re not sure yet. He shifts further into the couch and shrugs, and you take a deep breath and flip to a clean page, scribbling Eddie’s name in the corner.

“Okay, Eddie,” you begin, turning ever so slightly to face him. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me about who you are aside from the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” You glance between your notebook and Eddie, patiently waiting as he takes a drag of the burning paper. He looks at you, the majority of his face shielded behind unruly dark curls, and the room is so silent it’s nearly deafening.

Eddie shakes his head so gently you almost don’t notice the movement, “I don’t…” he bounces his leg once, “I thought this was about the music.”

You nod, “It is.”

Eddie gently blinks, like if he blinks too hard, the earth might shatter, and you think it’s beautiful, and you think you might hate that.

“It’s about the music, but I can’t write about the music without knowing the creator, can I?”

Eddie looks at you, eyes almost clear with lips parted around smoke. He blinks again, and you smile in encouragement, situating the pen in your grip. He looks at you, studies you, his gaze dropping to your awaiting hand, and his face twists in some expression you can’t put a finger on.

Before Eddie can speak, the door opens, both of your heads snapping toward the door as a tipsy Gareth pops his head inside, “Eddie, come on man, the car’s here.”

If Gareth had noticed the odd combination of you and Eddie sitting on the same couch, willingly enduring each other's presence, he wouldn’t mention it. 

You look back to Eddie, and you almost want to stop him as he gets up because, god, you were so fucking close. So close to finally touching Eddie. But he’s gone quicker than he came, the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering like a ghost, and despite Eddie giving you absolutely nothing to write about, you find yourself writing about him either way with nothing but his scent to aid you.

Eddie is drunk, and he can not, for the life of him, stop thinking about you.

A girl is climbing over him in the back of a taxi, and Eddie can only think about you. The look of pain you had when you stood up after falling, the way you looked at him as if he was the bane of your existence— it makes Eddie’s stomach churn, and he wishes the culprit for his nausea was the alcohol, but it’s not. Eddie knows it’s not because the second he thinks about the way you smiled at him in the dressing room, the way you said his name, the way you spoke so gently despite how much of an asshole he’s been to you, Eddie’s sick stomach settles and erupts in this annoying warm flutter.

Eddie can’t think of anything but the fact that he wants you to smile at him more, wants to hear you say his name again, and talk to him in your gentle way.

His face pinches in frustration, fingers gripping the girl's waist as she mouths at his neck. She moans against his skin, grinding down against his bulge and grinning when she feels him rut up against her. Eddie mumbles something, he’s not sure what he mumbles because his brain is split between worlds of scary feelings and arousal, but the girl laughs, scraping her teeth against his thumping pulse, “That journalist?” She asks.

Eddie blinks away the foggy cloud, “Huh?”

Lany pulls away from his neck and looks at him, biting her lip and tilting her head as she rubs up against him again, Eddie grunting in the back of his throat as his face twists in pleasure. “The journalist. You said her name.” Lany hums, drifting her hands up Eddie’s chest and grappling at the collar of his unbuttoned sheer top. Eddie blinks again and shakes his head, “I didn’t,” he denies.

Lany giggles, “You did, Eddie.”

Eddie glances over her shoulder, making awkward eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and he slightly grimaces and looks back to Lany as she leans in, ghosting her lips over his and tauntingly whispering your name. Eddie grunts in protest, squeezing her hips in a warning. Before he can say something, Lany kisses him with a hum before pulling away to where her lips brush against hers as she speaks, “Did you fuck her?”

Eddie pulls away from Lany, a look of distaste on his face as he glares at her, “Did I— what? No,” Eddie cringes as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard— and it’s not, and Eddie… Eddie hates that, he thinks. “No, I didn’t fuck her. Are you serious?” “You want to fuck her then?”

“I want you to stop talking about her,” Eddie counters, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip and watching as he drags the plump flesh down, grinning when Lany nips at his fingertip. “Maybe put these pretty lips to good use, hm?” He taunts, grin widening when she nods and sucks his thumb down to the last knuckle, his jeans tightening at the feeling and sight.

And if Eddie did say your name, he doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he’d been thinking of you for whatever odd, fucked up reason, and he doesn’t try to figure out what that weird flutter feeling is when he thinks about your softness, the softness he’s been depriving himself of.

He doesn’t dwell on any of it because Eddie is drunk, and when Eddie drinks, he thinks of and does stupid things, things that sound good at the moment but will screw him over in the long run.

And Eddie wants nothing to do with you anyway, and it’s not like one half-assed drunken conversation changed that, right?

Eddie’s got a blistering headache and a churning stomach as he stands outside the studio the following day. It’s drizzling, gloomy clouds drooping over the looming buildings of New York, and Eddie always hated this kind of weather; he preferred a full storm over the tease of a shower.

New York has never been Eddie’s favorite place, it’s dirty, and reeks of trash, and the people are shitty, but he likes how easy it is to blend in with the crowd; not many people notice him here, and that’s rare these days.

He’s leaning on the stoop of the building, tiny drops of rain dripping from the portico onto his leather-covered shoulders. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he watches the traffic go by, taking slow puffs to ease his body.

He hardly notices you when you bounce up the stairs until you stand just two steps below him. He glances at you and sees the coffee cups in each of your hands. You extend one out to him, “Would you like one? They accidentally gave me two.” You offer.

And you’re fucking nice. Despite how shitty Eddie has been towards you, you’re still nice to him, and Eddie, for the life of him, can’t stand it. He thinks you’re weird, insane, stupid. Thinks you were probably dropped as a baby more times than anyone can count because there’s no way somebody in their right mind would willingly give him the time of day when he’s treated them as shitty as Eddie has treated you. He nearly ran you over, for Christ's sake.

Still, Eddie doesn’t falter, “No. Probably spit in it on your way here.”

You laugh, and it irks Eddie in a way that makes him want to shiver as if the sound were nails scraping against a chalkboard. He distracts himself with a drag of his cigarette as you say, “I didn’t, but thanks for the idea.”

Eddie grunts in response, focusing on the last of his smoke as you tell him you’ll see him inside before walking up the rest of the stairs. Eddie barely acknowledges you as you pass him, but he acknowledges the sound of something dropping beside his feet. He looks down with pinched eyebrows, eyeing the notebook lying on the wet ground.

It’s your notebook— obviously— he’d know that stupid journal from anywhere. It’s a pale yellow with two leather straps you like to tie in a lousy bow, and Eddie believes it’s an annoying color, but he thinks that has more to do with the fact that you chose it. Mindlessly, Eddie picks it up, shaking off the rainwater before it seeps into the pages, and he turns to give it to you because he’d assumed you realized you dropped it, but you’re gone.

Eddie blinks, eyeing the door and the book in his hands, and Eddie knows he should just follow you and give it back because that’s the right thing to do. Knows he shouldn’t peek inside to see what your mind is like, knows you’d probably kill him because Eddie would do the same if anyone looked into his thousands of journals back home, but his fingers itch, and before he can stop himself, he’s flicking his cigarette bud away, leaning against the building and cracking the front page open.

Eddie’s not sure what he’d expected. Maybe something interesting, like a list of dudes you’ve fucked or some rant about a friend, but Jesus, how much more boring could you get? Grocery lists, reminders to book appointments, dates for work meetings, boring shit that Eddie could care less about. He flicks through nearly half of the book before anything piques his interest, snickering when he comes across a page of you talking about a guy named Danny, “What a sap,” Eddie mumbles to himself, softly chuckling and turning the page.

He flips through a few more pages before halting because Eddie's name is right at the top of the page. 

The door opens, and he jumps, fearing you might be searching for your lost journal, but it’s only a staff member. Eddie watches them trot down the steps before returning to the treasure in his hands, eagerly reading as if the book will turn to dust before he gets a chance.

And Eddie thinks he’s fucked up, screwed up in ways he never really wants to address. Despite Eddie’s outwardly attitude of thinking he’s the best at everything and knows all, there are still ugly parts of him that he so badly wants to reach inside and pull like weeds from a garden, crack his chest open, and take it from the root; pieces of him that can make him crumble quicker than a house of cards on a rickety table. 

However, the way you write about Eddie— the words you use and the so careful placement of each thought— it makes Eddie feel something he forgot he ever could about himself, and he doesn’t like how it makes his insides twist. He hates it. Eddie hates that you can read him as if he’s a fucking children’s book. Hates that you can see and point out parts of him that have been lost for so long he’d thought it was a dream. He can’t stand it. 

But as much as Eddie swears he hates what you’ve written and as much as he hates that it makes him feel something other than disdain, he can’t stop reading. He wants to read all you can say about him and only exist in the imagery you create of him because Eddie, for once in a long time, is someone in your eyes.

You write about Eddie like he is a person, a human being with real feelings and depth and a history of memories you’ve never seen or heard of before, but you still somehow manage to paint him so clearly. Inside your words, Eddie exists as more than the entity that fame has created him to be, and Eddie can’t remember the last time he read something about himself and didn’t feel like a pawn. 

It’s… refreshing.

Eddie flips the page, thinking there will be more you’ve written about him, but he’s selfishly disappointed when he realizes it’s just a personal entry. He scans the page, nearly deciding to close it for the day, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar name— Gareth.

It takes Eddie a moment to fully grasp the words you’ve written, the meaning of what exactly you’re explaining that you’d apparently discussed with Gareth. As soon as he lets the words settle into his chest, he’s storming into the building quicker than he can comprehend.

Bursting through the room of Richie's rented studio, Eddie makes a beeline for the sound booth where Gareth is busy tapping out a steady beat.

Eddie barely acknowledges you and the rest of the band in discussion off to the side, but his abrupt appearance has halted all conversation in the room. He storms up to Gareth behind his drum set and wastes no time gripping the man’s collar, gaze lit with fire and words seething as he leans in and glares down at the man. The room goes silent as soon as the question leaves Eddie’s lips, “Did you fuck Chrissy?”

Chrissy Cunningham was Eddie Munson’s high school sweetheart.

As the story goes, Eddie spent the better part of high school crushing on the cute captain of the cheerleading squad. For as long as he can remember, Eddie had been labeled as the school freak— something to do with his love of fantasy games and ‘odd music taste’— so he’d never imagined he would get a chance with Chrissy, but that all changed after a weird spiral of events they experienced together.

Eddie and Chrissy dated for a few years until Corroded Coffin went big. The long-distance trial of their relationship didn’t last long; Eddie rarely called Chrissy, and when he did call, they could only ever find time to argue about whatever Eddie had been photographed doing. Chrissy never came to watch the band once they moved out to LA, and she broke Eddie's heart the one time she did. 

So, it’s no surprise that reading the words in your journal has twisted the knife that’d been lodged in Eddie’s chest for so long that he was sure he couldn’t feel it anymore— he was wrong.

Gareth is looking at Eddie as if Eddie has asked him if the sky is blue and Eddie’s mind is a whirling wind of fire. “What are you talking about, man?” Gareth’s eyebrows pinch in confusion.

Eddie sneers and pulls him closer, Gareth leaning so far off his stool that Eddie's grip on his shirt is the only thing keeping him from the ground. Gareth drops his drumsticks to grab Eddie’s wrists as Eddie speaks, “Don’t bullshit me, Gareth. Did you fuck Chrissy, yes or no?”

Eddie looks at his best friend, and he sees lies, something he’s never had to associate with their friendship, and it almost hurts him more than what Chrissy did. Gareth stutters, shaking his head as if he wants to say no, tries to say no and deny that he slept with his best friend's girlfriend, but he can’t.

Gareth whispers Eddie’s name so quietly Eddie nearly misses it, but the quiver in his voice is all Eddie needs to hear to know the truth. Eddie doesn’t take a second to think before he cracks a closed fist down on his best friend's cheek, sending him back, crashing into the symbols in a clatter of noise.

He doesn’t wait to hear Gareth’s spew of apologies, and he doesn’t wait to listen to the pathetic excuses he makes up because he’s marching over to you next, a scowl on his face as he tosses your journal into your lap, and you look up at him in shock, “You dropped this on your way in.” 

And if this is the end of Corroded Coffin, then Eddie’s sure you’ll have one hell of a story to write. That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?

A good story.

————

part three

————

a/n: AHH U MADE IT TO THE END, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975

[13minmailman]

.

Ok so I’ve started working on this art piece back when Qsmp was still ongoing, and I saw a theory (whose username I can’t remember or find) that bbh’s angel form was a cherbium (that may be spelled wrong. It’s the multi animal headed angel warriors) which originally inspired me to create this piece. It’s been a long while, and while I’m not entirely satisfied with the coloring/shading, I’ve decided to release it into the wild. Also if anyone wants to take a crack at coloring this feel free.

( this is where I’m gonna put my thought process behind the artistic designs of the fanart. Bbh’s extra heads are skeletons bc of his connection with death/grim reapers/ I think it looks cool, and are a hyena skull (left) and vulture skull (right) for obvious reasons if you know his Qsmp lore both in and out of purgatory. ( aka his dog role in purgatory plus the soul vultures plus his behavior being described as scavanger plus his crazy laugh) he has a scythe for similar reasons plus it was his main weapon of choice in the Qsmp (and aesthetics) even if I don’t have it as decorated as i originally wanted due to not wanting to over clutter the design and this is supposed to be before his fall, thus him having less of an identity that is later expressed in his clothing due to the monolithic nature of heaven (head canon) even if aspects of his personality due shine through. He has four arms bc I think it’s cool and bc I think it fits his overachiever personality. Also you may notice the mild gore of the arms and heads being a bit bloody/sinewy in their formation, which is bc I believe even in the beginning he was a bit of a mashoschit (this may also be spelled wrong. It’s the word for pain lovers) and also had violence born into him (this may be worded poorly, but o well). He has the ghosties in one of his hands bc I like to think that chat was always kinda lurking around him, and also ties back to his relation to death/the afterlife/ that whole ferryman Chiron (maybe spelled wrong. The Greek dead guy driving boats) thing he had going that he never elaborated on (to my knowledge). His halo is of course a nod to his namesake and which I deliberately made to resemble stained glass due to the frailty of his connection to heaven that would soon be broken. He has throng wings bc four was too many to fit and three matched his heads and his children. He is wearing a hood in a manner I based off of the artwork of mother Mary, bc of course. He has long nails bc I want him to. Oh, and he is wearing his robes like that bc this is before the apple bite and the subsequent establishment of nudity as shameful, and also bc I want him to. And he is not naked bc I don’t want to get flagged as explicit (shoutout to bigboobyhalo for being the punch I needed to commit to the bit). Proportions are exaggerated due to 1. Angels are not bound to conventional human forms 2. Makes a better silhouette 3. What are you talking about the proportions are totally normal 👍 (leave me alone body’s are hard)

Yea that’s it

[eyneyke]

Sam is back live!

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 12 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Jack greeted the stream with his usual energy, waving to the camera. The little box that Felix usually occupied in their videos was now showing Felix's empty chair. “Hey, guys! So, Felix is running a little late today. He’ll be here soon, though. He mentioned something about airport but I didn't manage to catch it, so you know as much as I do.”

The chat immediately flooded with curious comments:

User 109: “Late?? Pewds? Never!”

User 110: “Who's Felix picking up?? 👀”

User 111: “Jack, you should roast him for being late lmao.”

User 112: “Airport? Did someone special arrive?? 👀”

User 113: “Wait, Felix is never late, what’s going on???”

---

Jack laughed, leaning into the camera. “I think you guys are gonna like this. But yeah, Felix will explain it when he gets here. I’m just here to keep you entertained in the meantime.”

He joked with the chat, playing around with a few games while everyone kept wondering why Felix was so delayed.

-40 minutes later-

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Felix stumbled into frame, slightly dishevelled. “Hey, everyone! Sorry, sorry! I know I’m late!”

The chat blew up instantly:

User 114: “FINALLY, HE’S HERE!”

User 115: “PEWDS IN THE HOUSE!”

User 116: “Better late than never, Felix!”

User 117: “What took you so long, man???”

---

Felix rubbed his temples dramatically, exasperation in his voice. “So, turns out, flying from Australia makes you completely unable to call a cab. I had to drive all the way to the airport and back just because someone was lazy.” He gave the camera a sarcastic look. “Because, you know, that's impossible to do.”

The chat exploded with confusion and excitement:

User 118: “WHO DID YOU PICK UP???”

User 119: “Australia?? Who’s from Australia?”

User 120: “Omg is it Marzia???”

User 121: “Did Jack finally move to Europe? 😂”

User 122: “Guys the last f1 race was in Australia!!!”

Felix stepped aside and yelled toward the hallway, “Hey, Sam! Get over here! You’re sooo streaming with me now, because you made me late!”

The chat immediately exploded in excitement:

User 123: “SAM??????”

User 124: “NO WAY, SAM KJELLBERG IS BACK!!!”

User 125: “WAIT, YOU PICKED UP SAM FROM THE AIRPORT?!”

User 126: “OMG IT’S HAPPENING!”

User 127: “THE THIRST RETURNS!”

---

A moment later, Sam casually strolled into the room, his usual smirk on his face. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that hugged his shoulders and toned arms, much to the delight of the viewers.

Felix shot Sam a look. “Look at you. Couldn’t even call a cab, could you?”

Sam shrugged, completely unfazed. “What can I say? I missed my big bro.”

The Chat Loses It

User 128: “SAM IS HERE! SAM IS HERE!!”

User 129: “Oh my god, he’s hotter than last time. I can’t.”

User 130: “PEWDIEPIE’S BROTHER BACK AT IT AGAIN, AND STILL LOOKING FINEEEE!”

User 131: “THE MUSCLES ON THIS MAN AND NOW THE TAN FROM THAT AUSTRALIAN SUN😍”

User 132: “FELIX, YOUR BROTHER IS TOO HOT FOR THIS STREAM.”

---

“I swear, is this a gaming stream or a Sam thirst-fest?”, Felix says as he waits for Sam to get comfortable on the chair next to him.

Jack cackled at the chat’s reaction, leaning back in his chair. “Guys, I told you this would be good. I knew you’d lose your minds when Sam showed up again.”

Felix sat down in his chair, shaking his head with a smile. “Okay, okay, calm down, you thirsty animals. We’re actually gonna play some games. Sam, grab a controller. You owe me after that airport fiasco.”

Sam grabbed a controller, looking completely nonchalant. “Yeah, sure, I’ll beat you again.”

The chat erupted again:

User 133: “YESSS SAM AND FELIX GAME NIGHT!”

User 134: “THIS IS WHAT WE NEEDED!”

User 135: “More Sam pls. Just keep him on the screen.”

User 136: “Jack is all of us right now, just sitting back watching the chaos.”

User 137: “Sam and Felix together are the chaotic duo we didn’t know we needed.”

---

As the stream continued, Felix, Jack, and Sam settled into the flow of things. Sam, still wearing a long-sleeved shirt that hugged his shoulders and arms, sat casually beside Felix, PS4 controller in his hands.

Jack glanced over at Sam and raised an eyebrow. “Dude, why are you wearing long sleeves? It’s not that cold over there.”

Sam smirked. “It’s not fair. It’s hot in Australia, and now it feels like the UK is trying to make me freeze to death.”

The chat burst into reactions:

User 138: “LONG SLEEVES????? Sam, why??”

User 139: “Why cover up the guns???”

User 140: “Felix, this is a crime, make Sam take that shirt off!”

User 141: “He’s hot no matter what he wears, tbh.”

User 142: “Sam’s biceps can break through that fabric, I believe it.”

User 143: “Felix amp up the heating in your place so Sam can be comfortable without his shit. No other ulterior motives from me, I swear.”

---

Jack chuckled at the chat’s responses but didn’t stop teasing. “Yeah, Sam, why the long sleeves? We all know you just came from the sun. You must've gotten a nice colour underneath those sleeves.”

Felix laughed, but then paused as he read a particular comment out loud. “How does Sam not look jet-lagged or tired at all? That’s literally god-tier.”

Jack laughed even harder. “Right?! You’d expect someone flying in from Australia to be dead on their feet.”

But Sam leaned back with a grin. “It’s easy when Max drops you off basically at your doorstep in a private plane.”

The chat exploded:

User 144: “WHAT???”

User 145: “Max?? Like Max Verstappen??”

User 146: “SAM TRAVELS WITH AIRMAX???”

User 147: “YOU KNOW MAX??”

User 148: “PEWDIEPIE’S BROTHER IS BESTIES WITH MAX VERSTAPPEN, WHAT???”

User 149: “Absolute pleasure watching new people find out that Pewdiepie's brother knows and works with Max Verstappen.”

---

Jack blinked, looking baffled. “Wait, what? That makes no sense. Max lives in Monaco, doesn’t he?”

Sam shrugged, completely relaxed. “Yeah, but Max gave a ride to Christian and a few other mechanics so he had to drop them off at Milton Keynes. So, they dropped me off at Heathrow and then went of to Luton for the factory. Most of the mechanics live closer to the factory.”

Felix just shook his head in disbelief as the chat continued to freak out:

User 150: “OMG MAX AND SAM FRIENDSHIP CONFIRMED???”

User 151: “The AirMax dropped off Sam, holy—”

User 152: “I’m dying, what is this? Casual flexing??”

User 153: “Imagine being so close with Max freaking Verstappen that he’s just like, ‘Hey, need a lift?’”

User 154: “The way Sam says it like it’s nothing 😂.”

---

Jack stared at Sam for a second, then burst into laughter. “Okay, that’s just not fair. Felix, your brother is living a whole different life.”

Felix threw his hands up. “Hey, don’t look at me!”

The chat continued to erupt in comments:

User 155: “The chaos of this stream is unmatched.”

User 156: “Pewdiepie’s brother is casually living the Formula 1 girly's dream.”

User 157: “Felix being confused is killing me lol”

User 158: “Sam is just the coolest dude. Like, how?”

---

Sam smirked and grabbed his controller. “Alright, alright, enough about private planes and F1. Let’s play some games, yeah? I have a few days off and I'm not spending them talking about work.”

And just like that, the stream returned to its chaotic normalcy, with Felix, Jack, and Sam diving into their gaming session, the chat still buzzing with excitement over the latest Sam Kjellberg revelation.

Felix rolled his eyes, pulling the game up on screen. “Okay, chat, let’s focus on the games now. No more thirsting over Sam.”

Of course, the chat didn’t listen:

User 159: “Focusing on the game is impossible when Sam is here, Felix, come on.”

User 160: “Sam could just sit there and we’d be entertained.”

User 161: “The internet’s crush is back and Felix expects us to focus? Yeah, okay.”

User 162: “Is it just me, or did Sam get even more ripped?”

---

Jack was laughing so hard, he had tears in his eyes. “Felix, your chat is just done for. You should’ve known this would happen when you brought Sam back on.”

Felix shook his head but couldn’t help but laugh along with Jack. “Yeah, well, now you’re stuck with him. Let’s just hope he doesn’t crush me like last time.”

The chaos of the chat continued, the excitement surrounding Sam’s return impossible to calm down, as Felix, Jack, and Sam settled into the gaming session.

[cookie-crumblr]

Red Lily Down

GN! Reader x Bunny Hybrid Harem

Part 2~

Introductions

Their Info: 💐🐰✨

Part: 1 2 3

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, GN! Reader, No pronouns used for reader, no genitalia descriptions mentioned for reader, bunny hybrid reader/mostly all of the harem is an animal hybrid of some kind, NSFW: sexual themes all throughout, every named character wants you, non con touching, smut, no sex yet! Reader gets called beautiful and pretty(u r), real furs, non con stripping, non con pet play, imprisonment, dark spooky forest,

Disclaimer: This harem’s theme is based off of a mix of Roots of Pacha and Watership Down. Not intended to represent any real or specific person/time/place/ or culture!

You aren’t just gonna lie down and let Aster win.

Definitely not!

You decide to go scout possible foraging locations. It’s starting to become dusky, however. You forget how fast night actually falls, once the sun starts going down.

The moon and billions of stars light your way, bouncing off of the shining leaves of the canopy above you. Thankfully, you aren’t lost, but you’re a little bit more scared than you’d like to admit.

You see the flickering light of a small fire ahead of you a ways, but it’s the opposite direction of the warren.

Eventually you step out of the brush into a small clearing where you find, August’s wagon!

“Why hello there,” a voice carried on a little breeze made just for you, graces your ear. You spin to face a fancy looking bunny guy with two toned hair.

“Hiya, August!”

“I brought you something really special tonight…” He goes to rummage around in a trunk on the back of the wagon. He’s always bringing you such elaborate treasures. You try and peer over his shoulder, but he blocks you just like always.

“Everything you bring me is special!” you roll on the balls of your feet, deciding to face away from him and respect the surprise. Not too soon later you feel warm arms wrapping around you. “Wha—”

His hands gently encase you, and his head rests on your shoulder.

“Let me take you away from here… I can show you life away from the warrens.” His voice is soothing, but is that something you want? “Here, it’s too late tonight, I’ll take you back home.”

“No way, August! It’s not that far.” You laugh.

“Only if you’re sure, Y/n, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He slowly let’s you go and pats you on the head.

You’re in your own little world when it happens.

Thinking to yourself about your options…

It appears you have a lot.

All of a sudden, a burlap bag comes over your head, it scratches your ear, and you yelp out with more than just surprise!

You hear mumbled chatting but can’t make out any full sentences, when…

*WHACK*

Darkness-

“Mmmf… My head…” You’re dizzy and your head is pounding. It feels as though your skull is in the jaws of a tiger.

“Ahh, you’re awake, good.” A ginormous white rabbit hybrid man sits beside you on a massive bed. He’s intimidating to say the least, and you audibly gulp, mouth dry. “Here, you need fluid.” He holds a clay cup to your lips and has you drink.

Your headache is already subsiding, “Thanks…” Your voice is quiet. “Where… Um…”

“You’re home. I am Hellebore. You are my mate and you will rule over this warren with me.” He speaks as though his words are law.

“Wha—” You notice the bed is covered in soft… Furs… Your eyes widen in horror. Your warren doesn’t kill anything so you aren’t accustomed to it. His loincloth is leather too. And now you’re looking at his crotch… His length isn’t even hard and you can still see the sheer size of it.

“Good. You’re understanding your situation, my little mate.” He brushes your hair from your face and runs his fingers down the side of your jaw, then under your chin. “You are so beautiful,” His ear flicks, and he sighs, “I have to go for now, I will see you again soon.”

You’re left to cool off on your own… Gods, today has been so long! You think about resting your eyes… But you’re way too nervous for when Hellebore will return.

“H-hello…”

You shoot up. “Who’s there!?”

“S-sorry! M-my names Dandelion! I’m h-here to help y-you escape” She squeaks it all out hurriedly.

“Why?” You narrow your eyes, she’s standing in the doorway looking around frantically, she doesn’t seem like she’s lying, but why’s she helping you?

“Y-you’re r-really c-cute!” She blushes.

“Aww!” she’s so adorable! your own face is warm, you bound over to her, immediately forgetting the world just to hold her hand.

You do, you take her soft hand in yours and kiss it, “My hero, let’s go!”

Her face is a blaze of red, smoke would probably be flying out of this poor bunny girl’s lopped ears! You have to take mercy on her for now. She looks like she can only handle so much at a time.

She pulls you along through a pathway in the trees when that feeling of being watched hits you again, this time however, it’s too late to be any help.

Your ankle snags in something, it hurts but not too badly. It’s some type of snare you think, but it’s too dark to see.

“There’s that pretty bunny I’ve been hunting”

“AHHH!!!” Dandelion screams “I’ll get help! I promise!!” She runs, her fluffy lil tail flailing up and down. You trust her.

This human man completely either didn’t hear her, or is just disregarding her. Either way, you already feel frozen and small, and like talking to him would be pointless.

“No bitin’ now, I’m only getting this off,”

“Why would I bite you?” You think he might be deaf, he doesn’t seem to have heard you. “Woah!” Your equilibrium shifts as he hoists you up into his huge arms. He sets you on one arm as if it’s a chair made just for you. You feel a little bashful, but, “Where are you taking me?”

Still he ignores you.

You decide to shift and get more comfortable for the ride rather than waste anymore breath.

“We’re here,” He pulls back a branch, revealing a beautiful clearing filled with white moonlight. There’s even a waterfall behind his cabin! You kinda want to jump in, but it looks a little scary too. “Now, what to call you,”

“You can call me, Y/n.” You fold your arms, there’s no way he’s deaf. He’s pretending he can’t hear you!

“How about I just call you, Bunny, for now…” It’s not a question. You end up with a straight face, already fed up with this human man and his weird shenanigans.

“I’m a hybrid. I’m not a full bunny, ya know,” You say.

“You make such cute little sounds, Bunny.” After he hangs up his thick brown fur coat, he approaches you, looking into your eyes fully.

You feel scared suddenly, like he’s finally actually seeing you. But you’re completely exposed.

“I’ll be right back,” He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your face up to look at him.

When he returns he picks you back up, you hold onto his arm, it’s so thick, you wonder for a second what the rest of him is like…

“Bath time, little Bunny,” He pulls at your top, you try to hold it down and end up huddled in the cold dirt.

“D-don’t!” He pays your plea no mind.

Huge calloused hands squeeze your thighs, and pull down fabric from your skin. Some of it tickles madly, some of it feels too rough to bare.

Soon your stripped completely naked, and covering yourself with your hands and legs. For a second you think you can see red adorning his cheeks. You willingly climb in the fire heated bath.

He takes a sponge, and washes your body, thankfully not spending too much time in any one place.

He puts you in a cotton shirt that’s baggy and soft, before carrying you once again. This time he drops you off in a hutch. Possibly the most cruel and inhumane thing you could ever think to be put into.

“No way. You can stop now!” You grab onto the bars and try to pull on them.

He ignores you and goes back inside.

“LET ME OUT!!” You keep screaming until you hear something in the brush on the edge of the clearing. “Hello…?” You peep.

“Hello…” Possibly the deepest voice you’ve ever heard echos you…

“Um… I’m uh… Stuck… C-could you… h-help?” Your heart pounds in your long, fuzzy ears. You swallow painfully while you wait for seconds of absolute silence for the man to do anything at all.

Footsteps crunch through the pine needles.

You behold him as he steps into the moonlight, a gorgeously rugged wolf man. More rough around the edges than even Winter. You watch him wide eyed, as he unlocks the hutch.

He grabs hold of your waist and hoists you out.

“You should follow me. ‘s not safe.” He doesn’t talk much you can already safely assume. Instinct takes over and you grab his hand. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t hold your hand back.

You almost want to thank him, it’s so late now that you know predators are just lurking around every dark corner… Predators like big dark wolf men in the middle of the dark forests, but you don’t think of that, do you?

He takes you into a lively and bustling wolf pack. They’re dancing around a big bonfire in the middle of the tribe.

“Safe. Sleep.” He says, and lays down on a fur covered slab of rock with his back to you.

It’s not as comfy as what you’re used to at all… but you manage to sleep for a little while at least.

“I’m here for them.” a deep woman’s voice rings out like a beautiful and slow song.

You open your eyes and it’s even darker out now.

It’s Gloria! The chief of your sister warren. She’s gorgeous, as tall as Hellebore, too! You practically drool as you imagine her stepping on you. You jump up and excitedly rush over to her.

She smiles when she sees you. “Ah, it’s wonderful that you’re alright, darling. Now, come.”

You follow her all the way to your home. She takes your face in her hands once inside your canvas walls.

“I… Was worried. I’m going to discuss treaties with the woods tomorrow. You’ll be able to go where you wish.” She kisses your cheek and runs her finger down your jaw. A sigh leaves her plump lips, “You’ll thank me next time. I unfortunately have to go for now my sweet little darling.” You hug goodbye.

Your body burns.

You’re beyond exhausted as you trudge your way through the warren. It’s so quiet and creepy, but the gentle snoring wafting out of the open windows all around comforts you. It was really a very short walk.

“Y/n?” Azure yawns…

[serxinns]

Romantic Bakugo vs Yan Platonic class 1a

requested by @roxanndrummond (sorry for the wait)

• Now you were class 1s favorite sibling and you were coddled 24/7 like how the girls would invite you to big slesleepoverwhere the girls would constantly fight over what activity should they do with you and the boys were your overprotective bothers denki and Sero always ruffling your hair and play fight with you while shoto and Iida would spoil you with expensive gifts and needs

•But there was one boy in particular and it was no more then Bakugo Katsuki now Bakugo was 1st pissed and confused about why we were getting coddled and babied by his classmates so he decided to observe and learn more about you the morehe hanged out with you the more interested he was in you that which soon became an obsession he wanted you for himself and himself only

•By time passed he gifted you small things like all might matching keychains and an aggressive letter that was threatening but was an invitation to either his plate or somewhere nice he would always scold you for not doing simple tasks and would flick your head just to see that mad annoyed face dude almost exploded but fought it

•Everything was going swell for him until his classmates noticed his strange behavior but he wasn't gonna back down anytime sooner whenever Izuku Shoto or Iida "Scolded" Him to back off he'll laugh bitterly and tell them to fuck off, The girls would glare at him from afar whenever your happily chatting with him but he didn't care he didn't give two fucks he was memorize by your adorable face

•Your friends tried to warn you about Bakugo making him a cruel and mean monster but you would always defend him making your friends shocked and scared they all thought that the Angry dude had you wrapped around his finger and was gonna steal you away from them! But they weren't backing down they were gonna protect you and promised to pull you away from anger and katsuki was the danger

•Whenever katsuki would bring you small gifts Hakagure would sneak in your locker and steal the roesents and throw them in the trash but katsuki has a trick up his sleeve and would replace the trashed gifts with better gifts

•everyone was fighting over who would be your partner of your katsuki Partner then he'll go easy on you he didn't have the courage to hurt you he would never he only "hurt" you with little empty threats if your not then he'll REALLY go all out on you he'll flex his quirk and abilities on one of your friends always yelling "YOU SEE THAT DUMBASS THATS HOW YOU FIGHT DONT BE LIKE THESE EXTRAS"

• When your back is turn it's always a war katuski fighting with dekusquad telling them to back off while bakusquad and tokoyami are telling him that your theirs and they don't need you to date anyone they don't want their little sibling taken away from them they had to up their game

•they would spy on Bakugo to see if he was gonna try anything to ruin your innocence whenever Bakugo and you are alone when it's either studying or even sparing they would always barge in and try to ruin the moment for him asking if they would spar which you happily Agreed to which made bakugo even more pissed, whenever bakugo and you were busy chatting Mina or tsuyu would call you over for some help with some homework smirking at the blonde back while he's on the edge of ruling them apart with his two hands

Whenever you and bakugo wanted to go out and hang out kids would send a small animal like an ant or Mouse to spy on the two of you it worked for many times until you squealed at the cute little mouse and picked it up and bakug notice a mic on it so he rip it off and broke it

• Whenever your in class the bakugonsns the rest of the classmates all darting glares whole bakugo glares at all of them all with dark tendencies in their eyes like they were ready to pounce each other

•your friends and bakugo loved you the way you are that's will no matter what they will fight to get your attention affection and love!

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 34 - Dominic Monaghan

Lizards have a distinct smell, turns out. Kinda dry and dusty, but also…mildewy? Or at least this overgrown cave lizard does. You focus on that as you drift in and out. The pebbly hide, not slimy at all, presses against your cheek as you come more and more into your own body, and you shift your focus to the movement of muscle underneath. Wonder if big boy here is more a komodo dragon, or more a dinosaur. It’s warm, whatever it is.

It’s too had to keep both eyes open. Especially with your head pounding so bad. You open the one any wider and it’s gonna pop right out.

Every drag of air into your lungs hurts. Cause you’re folded over the back of a lizard like a fucking saddle bag. Feet tied together so tight all you feel is a scorching ache up your shins. Your knee joints is filled with ground glass. Hands still bound and every step and shift of that lizard sends shooting pain blasting up your arms.

They ain’t untied you. Didn’t even loosen the ropes. Your fingers is gonna die and drop off and them bitches called you a slave but slaves need hands to work.

They’re gonna kill you. Soon as they figure out how to get past the fucking brainworm.

Your bladder wakes up. And you realize you feel air on your ass crack. Cloth draped over your legs, but not between. A skirt? Your memories is shredded meat, but one bubbles to the surface: something breaking during the pain and hot liquid on your legs.

You pissed yourself at some point.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to bury your face against the rough hide.

They must’a stripped your pants and them panties (Astarion made that for you and now it’s gone, too). Probably so you don’t smear on and stink up the side of the lizard.

You twist your head enough to spot the actual saddlebag next to your head. Recognize the spider design worked into the leather.

Bitch Queen sits perched in that saddle, back so straight you could use her as a leveler at a construction site. You don’t say nothing. Stay still and quiet—don’t draw attention, give them nothing—but soon, your bladder don’t give you any option. And you say, in Common (sweet jesus you miss Gale), “Piss.”

They do stop. Untie your feet and drag you off to the side. Your toes don’t work no more. Feet won’t take your weight. Skinny stands there over you as you hobble on your screaming knees. He makes no move to help (not that you was expecting it). Your hands don’t work enough to hike up the wrap they tied around your hips, and eventually, Skinny scoffs and leans down and wrenches it up so hard you almost fall.

You try not to think. At all. Certainly not about the wet on your own thighs.

You want this to be over. Want all of this to go away. But it don’t. It just drags on minute by minute, second by second, and you got to be here for every part of it.

Astarion got away, at least. He’s out there, somewhere. You could reach out. Could check. Know for sure if he left you. He said he would after the river. He’d save himself. Leave you to torture and death. And as Skinny hauls you back, lifts you onto the lizard again and sets to work trying your feet back together (the pain takes the air outta your lungs), you almost reach for the group chat.

But you don’t. You can’t.

Too much of a coward. Too much a wounded animal, trying to slink to its den and lick the gaping wound shut.

Off y’all go again, and you’re stuck in the present, in your body, an unwilling passenger to all of it.

***

You know y’all’ve stopped for the day when hands yank you off. You startle, and then hit the ground.

They leave you where you fell. Lead the lizard off and Skinny pulls some kinda something outta his pack to feed the big boy, murmuring and stroking its pointy muzzle as it chomps. Bitch Queen and Short King Shithouse talk in a huddle to the side as the others lay out bedrolls and distribute rations.

They do not give you food. They do drive a stake into the ground, produce a leather cord, and tie your bound, screaming feet to that. Aside from that, they leave you be. They do not speak to you, do not sink spectral claws into your mind, and they don’t give you water.

You’re gonna die. The knowledge seeps into you, lying there in the dim light of surrounding mushrooms. People feed prisoners they intend to keep alive. Their disregard speaks for itself. You’re nothing but cargo to them. A piece of mail to take back and open up and then discard. You can only watch as they crunch and slurp through their food and drink. Notice Skinny sitting off by himself. The others ain’t really taking to him. Haven’t the whole time you been awake enough to register that. Some kinda pecking order?

And then he notices you watching. Cocks his head and looks to the huddled group of women. Stands.

You tense.

He comes over. Stops, standing over you. Looks down a second, and then pulls out his water skin and crouches down.

“Drink?” he says in Common.

Gotta be a trick. You look from the water skin to him and back. His face is blank, neutral. Your tongue sticks to your mouth, so dried out it feels it’s gonna crack like a slug under a sprinkling of salt. But Skinny just crouches there, waiting. It probably wouldn’t help them if you keeled over of dehydration? Which means y’all have to be at least another day to wherever they’re taking you?

You tentatively open your mouth.

Water gushes over your face. You try to twist away, hacking and sputtering, but he only dumps more, following you. Water sloshes up your nose, catches on an inhale and then you’re really choking. Coughing and gagging shit up. Can’t even thrash with half your body rigid with pain. Can only lie there and pant, eyes and nose streaming.

Then you manage to glance up. Catch a flash of movement in the dim light. Pain crunches into your face. His boot. White agony bursts through your skull, boils your brains. You lose a moment or three, and come to, choking again. Not on water or snot, this time. It’s blood.

Bitch Queen says something, voice cracking like a whip. The blur that is Skinny backs away and folds into a bow. One of the women nearby shakes her head.

Pretty sure your nose is broken. Pretty sure your front teeth might be cracked. Your eyes water so bad that you lose sight of everything else but dim movement. Can only roll yourself to your side—a human can drown in, what, a couple teaspoons? You remember enough of basic first aid to know the recovery position.

They leave you as you lie there in torment. You’re there a long while. Or maybe not. Can’t tell. Everything is hurt and cold. You’re alone. Always, always alone. Even when you had Uncle Randy and your cousins, you was alone. Because that’s what you know. All you know. And despite ten fucking years and counselors and therapy and medication, you don’t know how else to be when it comes down to it.

You don’t trust how else to be. Because it always ends in something like this.

You’re gonna die. Hurting. Alone. That tiny ember in you will try, as it tries now, to stay lit. But you always known that someday, something would come along and finally snuff it out. It won’t up and just let you die—you’ll keep on breathing to the end. You’ll even marginally pay attention, keep an eye out, just in case. But someday, and someday soon it seems, it’s gonna—

The drow are quiet. Not a peep. Not a breath. They’re completely still, until you catch the flutter of hand movements. Are they signing? Hard to tell in the dark with your eyes streaming.

They’re all staring intently in the same direction, though. You try to wriggle yourself enough to follow, but your body’s too fucked up. It gives out and you drop back, panting.

And that’s when you feel it. Shift to press the side of your face to the ground like some “good guy Indian guide” from some dumbshit western.

A rumble. Steady and low, it shivers through the ground.

Somebody says something. Gear rustles.

The rumble don’t change pitch or frequency. It’s kinda…familiar? You blow a blood bubble outta your nostril and try to pop your ears…

That’s a fucking birdshark. The fuck is another goddamn fucking birdshark doing out here? And is it…it’s getting louder.

Oh hot fuck. It’s getting closer. Coming right towards this camp. Why in the sweet, flying fuck—

A presence taps at your mind. It feels like bare feet on cold sand laced with sharp rocks just beneath the surface. Silver bright, like the flash of a trout in the murky depths. A hint of dark humor like licorice flavoring in a strong drink.

You crack open the door to your mind. Just a little. Still trying to keep your wibbling guts from spilling into the connection.

And there he is.

Something hisses. Thwips. A drow rasps horrifyingly and stumbles. One of the women clutches her throat. There’s something wrong with it, with the shape…

Oh. Yeah. An arrow would do that.

Drow draw knives and curved short swords. The rumble gets louder and louder, and Bitch Queen finally breaks the silence to snap an order.

A flash in the dark. Something pale. Something fucking fast erupts out of the shadows. Tumbles into a roll as several arrows hiss over his head. He comes up in a crouch, bow already drawn.

He releases. Catches Skinny, standing in the back, right in the thigh.

“Hello, darling!” he says in Chondathan. And then, in your mind: it’s his turn, now.

Which is when the birdshark explodes outta the ground just behind him.

[annie-creates]

The biggest star

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1500

Note: It's another International Women's Day so let's celerate with something a little different this time, I got inspired by the Pearl's quote. There's not many Ravenna fics being written so I hope you'll like this one.

With the early morning sunrise you got out of bed ready to feed the few animals you took care of at your parents’ farm and prepare the dough for a fresh loaf of bread. Every morning started like this, ever since you could remember. You took care of your responsibilities and duties, cleaning around the house or taking care of some gardening. Your mother prepared all the goods you were going to be selling at the town market that day and your father tended to the fields and cattle.

“Don’t forget to get all the fresh eggs.” Your mom reminded you as you prepared today’s commodities.

“Yes mother.” You nod, no matter how old she had a habit of reminding you of everything, just to be sure.

The road to the town square was bumpy as always but lucky enough you didn’t live far away enough to encounter any robbers or muggers. There was a stall by stall, your neighbors selling baked pastries or meat. Your family’s business was more in eggs, milk and vegetables. You helped reach, pack and hand over packets amongst packets of goods, happy that today is gonna be a good day for your business. With the money you make you’ll buy other things you weren’t able to provide for yourself like flour or leaven.

“Mother, can I go take a look around?” You begged tired of standing in one place all day.

“Fine, but don’t take too long.” She waved you off.

Your eyes sparkled with joy and you took off exploring the town you knew all too well already. Back when you used to go to school you traveled here by foot almost daily, but since you turned thirteen you were tied up at the farm with work. You’ve learnt to read and count, but there wasn’t much more needed in your life. You lived day by day identical to the previous one and it was incredibly tiring to you. You wanted to see more of this world. Live in all the places the merchants who sometimes visited your town told everyone about.

As you neared a group of women with one of the queen’s guards in the middle, the gathering peaked your interest. It was known that queen Ravenna wasn’t one to visit around or get out of her castle too often, and the same was true for her guard. Sure, some of the lower ranked soldiers always overlooked gatherings like this, but this man’s uniform proved he was ranked much higher and was one of the closest to the queen, so his appearance was certainly unusual.

“Slowly, ladies, you all can take your chance tomorrow.” He commanded the crowd giving out some instruction slips. “Here, you, take one too.”

He pushed a pamphlet in your hand as soon as you got close enough to be within his reach. Reading the few lines written on there, you learned that the queen is looking for a handful of new maids and ladies fitting at the court to keep her company. Could this be the chance you’ve been waiting for? All the ladies chatted around you about how interesting and undeniable chance this was. One that comes only once in life. That got you convinced, even if they didn’t choose you in the end, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you passed on such a chance.

When you got home that evening, you prepared dinner with a bit more enthusiasm and ate faster than anyone has ever seen you do before, ready for this day to end so the next one can begin. You took care of braiding your hair before going to bed to have some pretty waves in the morning, cleaning your face and brushing your teeth extra good. As you went to bed, you took a moment to pray to the universe.

“Please lord, make me the biggest star the world has ever known. So that I make it far, far away from this place.” You didn’t know what star you wanted to be, but as far as it got you a different life, you didn’t care.

You could hardly sleep from the excitement for the next day, rising even before the sun could and running around your chores the fastest and best you could. You got out your best dress you only used for weddings, funerals and church visits, hoping it would be good enough for the queen. Will you get to meet her? From what you heard her grace and beauty was like no other, and her magnificence preceded her. Ready for breakfast and to get to the part of town stated at the pamphlet in time, you arrive at the table.

“And where are you going off to in your best dress?” your mother wondered.

“There’s a selection for queen’s escort today in town, I thought I’d give it a shot.” You admitted unsure of your parents’ reaction.

“Queen’s escort? You?” she scoffed. “You better not slack on your duties because of this nonsense.”

“Of course not mother.” You didn’t expect your family to be supportive of your goals but it still stinged.

When you finally arrived at the town hall where the choosing was taking place, there were some more guards and other officiants. You’ve learnt they are the ones responsible for the first selection, picking only a few of the dozens of girls who auditioned to come to the castle and start learning all the tasks that come with living along the queen. Some would be then chosen as maids, some would find themselves amongst chefs or seamstresses and only a few would get the chance to become the queen’s escort. Or you could fail completely and they’ll send you back home as fast as you came.

As they picked and chose what girls to take with them and who to turn down, the lucky ones squealed with happiness and the other ones cried. When it came to your turn, two of the men examined you with eagle eye, finally deciding to let you pass. A big rock fell off your heart so hard it must have been heard through the hall. You were in. You were gonna come to the castle and learn to become one of queen’s closest people. You couldn’t believe your luck. As you stepped in their carriage and let it take you towards your new destiny, you hoped to not let anyone down, especially yourself.

As you arrived at the castle and got settled in crowded rooms for servants and valets, another harsh regime started. You spent days and weeks learning and observing all the different tasks performed around the place. Every night you went to sleep exhausted and every morning you had to get up with a smile on your face. But as some of the girls started falling off your hard endeavor started to pay off. After a few weeks you started learning around the queen, your first meeting being unforgettable.

“Good morning.” She greeted you from her throne and you all bowed low. “I see we have some great adepts here. I hope you all will raise to the occasion and become wonderful.”

She was fierce and strong, that much was evident. All the stories of her beauty fell short as she looked like the embodiment of an angel to you. It was a moment you couldn’t get out of your head for a long time and every time your training got hard, you reminded yourself that this is exactly what you’re going through all this for. To serve the queen however she pleases. Her charm and grace hardly left your mind and with every meeting you worshipped her more and more. You were so smitten with her character and glamor you felt like you could hardly breath sometimes.

After two months spent with the queen you all were finally done with your training ready to become permanent residents of the castle. You hoped and prayed wherever they assigned you you’d get to meet her at least sometime. Only being in her company would make you eternally grateful. You didn’t know if you could live it the same place knowing she could be right behind the wall yet never seeing her really. Some of the girls who became your friends over the time were sent to the kitchen, some became maids and charladies. There it was again, the stone on your heart hoping to not be sent home after all your efforts, hard work and dedication.

“And you.” The queen herself stood in front of you in all her beauty. “How would you like becoming my personal escort?”

Your eyes lit up with her offer, hardly believing what your ears were hearing. Little did you know your infatuation with her impressed her and she too enjoyed your particular company. This was going to be the start of a wonderful future for you both.

“Yes, my queen.” You bowed to Ravenna stepping towards your new exciting life.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

oh my spaghetti gods.... they actually made the episode

Ha ha, I love that for them honestly. I figured that the Team would put out one of these after WOTFI, it would be either a regular silly episode, a "Mario Reacts", or a Remaster.

...OMG I haven't clicked on the episode and I just realized something: you know how at the end of WOTFI, Four proposed the idea of taking some of the abandoned stuff in Puzzle Park and bringing them to the Showgrounds? He can now have the teacup ride

that was slick as hell

(the following is my live reaction:)

of course, you GOTTA present the WOTFI merch

also james and luke just goofing around gives me serotonin :)

Mr Puzzles: "...Now you're 5% less disgusting to look at." :0 that has so many implications but I'm not gonna say it

ANYWAY That's-a so nice!

THE TEACUP RIDE

Alright, everybody who drew baby Four, we gotta get on it again

sorry,,, just them :)

also, Three, it was your idea dude

THE OATS "Now with less fun! :)"

just the way Four hid behind Three [*head in hands*] chat, I'm not going to make it by the end of this episode

The Star Trio (TM) everyone

...wait, does Three actually smell like peanuts or is it just for the meme? [*writes that down*]

Four: "My only suitable parental guardian!" Four, Karen's right there

I can't believe the retirement home is in America smh (like no seriously)

AY there's Old Man Hobo

this reminds me of that one scene from the "You Used to Be Cool" episode

(if you couldn't tell, Three's one of my favorite characters)

PFFT HAHAHAHA THEY KEPT THAT IN I'M DEAD DUDE

Three, why do you need medicine? you just got turned into an old man

MASTER OF DISGUISE

PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA?! MARIO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, ITALY IS GOING TO REVOKE YOUR ITALIAN CARD

the nurse jumping out the window... [*thinks back at Mr Puzzles' Clubhouse when Max jumps out of the window*] sorry WOTFI flashbacks

anyway, they're adorable

huh i guess prison-UH I MEAN- the retirement home has a basketball court, who knew

HE DROPS THE SOAP I'M SO GLAD THEY KEPT THAT IN

...wtf is that slop?

also blue goo- [*loud airplane noises*]

Three: "Meggy? Is that you? You look uglier than usual-" DAMN well, it's good to know that you're still Three

The two frames-per-second running animation, ah a classic

BINGO NIGHT (no no Ink, bingo night was last week) (aw man)

Three, it was your idea bruh

also you're in the SMG4 universe for how many years? plot convenient devices are the norm, Three

HEY SWAG

Hal's here too!

they do be scheming

...wait [*DRAMATIC GRASP*] THE SONIC X THEME SONG!!! 🎶ROLLIN' AT THE SPEED OF SOUND (MAKE TRACKS) QUICKEST HEDGEHOG AROUND, GOT OURSELVES A SITUATION, STUCK IN A NEW LOCATION WITHOUT ANY EXPLANATION, NO TIME FOR RELAXATION-🎶 [*gets shot*]

despite everything, it's still you :)

if I had a nickel for every time an old guy says "No Mario, don't", I'd have two nickels. It isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

THE OATS CAME BACK FULL CIRCLE BABY

Frof the SnOATman :)

"On that day, the FBI learned the true meaning of Christmas: oats" SOMEONE MAKE THIS INTO A MOVIE

wait, FBI, you JUST noticed Four and the getaway car?

"dig a hole...poison the guards...KILL the the witness."

The hole, the poison, the old man being the "witness". Wow, Three's plan actually worked! Well, except for the "kill" part, the old man still lives. BUT STILL!

this part was actually emotional wtf

"Good to have you back, SMG3! ...SMG3?" aw 💙💜 (i ask for so little)

Three: "man, I think that was my dad..." Four, once again knowing they came out of USBs: "...ok"

CARNIVAL YAY you better not drop something on me bc (1) it's too soon and (2) you Team like to torture me

PFFT just putting Four's regular head on a baby body is everything

ferris wheel jumpscare

and AY james got to be credited for the writing (i mean, obviously)

And congrats to ggf0ur for having your art in the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Another fun and silly episode, just what I needed after school work and WOTFI. Still can't believe they made it into an actual episode haha! Having the Star Trio in an episode is always a blast! I truly enjoyed this one.

As much as I find it funny that Four needed Three as a parental guardian to be on the teacup ride, it would be a bit better if the reason for the age gun was that they never got to be actual kids, unlike the rest of the crew. Then we could've gotten baby Four and Three, oh the possibilities. Maybe that's just me idk, but I'm happy with what we got.

And the Ferris wheel in the Showgrounds again, at this point it's a sign. I have to gather my thoughts together for my "Ferris Wheel Wedding" idea.

Fun Fact: for those who are wondering, the WOTFI website is surprisingly still up! Ofc you can't put submissions in anymore but I find it hilarious.

Fun Fact 2: the guy who made the faces for Mr. Puzzles has a proper Twitter now (link)! Go and show some support to the Team! I do want to bring it up because the Team may have made some editing/animation errors (like the subtitles having SMG4 instead of SMG3) and people are getting upset about that, but it's literally not a big deal. I know the Team is trying their hardest to bring out episodes every week. Besides, mistakes could go under the radar, it simply happens.

Now, if you excuse me...

DON'T BLINK, DON'T THINK, JUST GO GO G-G-G-G-GO GO (n-n-n-n-n-na, n-n-n-n-n-na) SONIC'S ON THE RUN, SONIC'S NUMBER ONE! SONIC, HE'S COMIN' NEXT, SO WATCH OUT FOR SONIC X! GOTTA GO FAST (SONIC), GOTTA GO FAST(SONIC)! GOTTA GO FASTER FASTER FASTER FASTER FASTER- [*gets shot again*]

[lovechrissturniolo]

14/ day two - night |18+|

contains: Lea taking the lead, teasing, undressing, blowjob

"What's up with your face cam switched off, brother?" Matt's voice echoed through the headset.

"Got the light off cause my eyes hurt. Look kinda messy right now." Chris murmured.

"Fix that! Chris girls are already asking for you!"

"I'm going to! Relax!" he cut his brother off quickly, staring at Lea, who had just stood up and was undressing herself right next to him.

The Chris girls comment had caused a stinging pain in her chest and she felt the urge to make him forget about them. Entirely.

She wore nothing but a black lace slip which barely covered anything as she leaned over to kiss his neck, her bare tits touching his chest.

mute

"Hold on!" Chris gasped, still staring. "That's NOT slowing down!"

"Have you ever had your cock sucked on stream?" she whispered, looking him straight in his eyes, biting her lower lip.

"No?" Chris answered with a husky voice while his eyes narrowed. Something in her behaviour had changed and he was confused about what it was, as she quickly pulled his jeans down without breaking eye contact.

"No fucking hesitation, huh?" he growled between clenched teeth and his gaze became like that of an animal, hunting it's prey.

"Chris girls gotta wait!" Lea huffed defiantly. "Too fucking bad!"

"Oh, so that's it?" An amused, devilish grin appeared on his lips. "You fancy a competition!"

"Competition where!?" Lea replied snappishly and knelt between his legs.

"Hold the fort for a minute and talk! Have to go to the bathroom!" Matt announced.

Chris frowned and rolled his eyes.

unmute

"Yeah got it!"

Lea stroked the outline of his cock, looked greedily at the clearly defined bulge and ran her tongue over her lip.

"Alright chat," Chris cleared his throat and tried desperately to open a conversation. "How y'all doing?"

Lea grinned cheekily at him and shook her head slowly, forming the words "Pathetic attempt!" almost soundlessly.

Oh, Chris hated that - in the most pleasant way possible - she could clearly tell from his look becoming dark and greedy.

He forced himself to look back at the screen. "Oh wow, your grandma's 90th birthday? That's cool!" he answered to the chat, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Lea pulled a face, mocking Chris' expression: "Wow, so cool!" as she pulled his boxers down a few inches.

Chris's jaw dropped at the cheek of it! Half of his mouth twisted into a stunned grin.

Lea obviously offered a challenge he was willing to accept.

"Making out just wearing the new fresh love hoodie..." he read casually from the chat and pretended it to be an accident. "I definitely didn't have to say that out loud... But sounds good to me!"

Chris played the game well, Lea had to admit, but she was confident of winning - after all, he was defenceless.

She licked over the protruding shaft of his cock and teased its tip with her fingers.

Chris winced and bit his hand to stifle a moan.

mute

"Fuck!" he cursed. "Take it out then! Look how hard you fucking make me!"

"You need to keep the conversation going, right?" she shot back, freeing his hard member from the fabric of the boxers. "Talk to them, go ahead!"

unmute

"Day two of streaming, isn't that crazy?" sighed Chris and adjusted his sitting position, while Lea let his tip slowly disappear into her mouth. "Time goes by so fast it's insane!"

He closed his eyes and put his head back from pleasure. "We gonna make a break soon, chat! Fortnite gets annoying..."

Her mouth caressed his cock in the most agonizing way possible. These slow and sensual movements drove him crazy.

mute

"M'gonna fuck the shit out of you as soon as Matt is back! Y'know that right?" Chris moaned desperately.

Looking down at her head bobbing up and down on his cock almost made him lose control.

unmute

"Matt, are you back?" he groaned, pretending to just be annoyed. No answer.

Lea sighed quietly. She really wanted him to fuck the shit out of her when Matt was back...

Chris tousled his hair and placed his free hand impatiently on the back of her head.

"I'm back!"

"Good, gotta go to the bathroom too!" Chris groaned and hit the mute button.

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